Pandora-allan - PAN-DORA

Aww

New Picrew tagging thing!

Make yourself with this adorable picrew: https://picrew.me/image_maker/400146 and idk tag people if you want

@bisexualcrisana​ @weatherbourne​ @achilles-was-better-than-u​

Mike Pence touched some NASA hardware that said “do not touch” — and in came the memes

“Because you are alive, everything is possible.”

— Thich Nhat Hanh

Greek mythology from A to Z:

[P] - Pandora (Πανδώρα), the first woman, was created by Zeus to neutralize the blessing of fire, which had been stolen by Prometheus from Olympus.

In Hesiod’s Works and Days, Pandora had a jar containing all manner of misery and evil. Zeus sent her to Epimetheus, who forgot the warning of his brother Prometheus and made Pandora his wife. She afterward opened the jar, from which the evils flew out over the earth. Hope alone remained inside, the lid having been shut down before she could escape.

Here’s how it works: we board the train. I sit at the back of the train, facing forward. You sit at the front of the train, glancing back. There is a distance, d, between us. The doors slide shut. The train lurches into motion.

If the train was moving at a perfectly constant velocity, we could pull the shades down over the windows, close our eyes, block out all other frames of reference, and believe that we were standing still, that our journey had not yet started, that it was not yet too late to stand up and disembark and still be standing at the station. But for now there is only acceleration, unmistakable, the train building, building speed, hurtling off towards the future.

It goes like this: we pass light and shade and light and shade and light.

Each time, a shaft of light enters from the very front of the train, through the engineer’s window, passes you and and travels the length of d all the way to the back of the train at 299,792,458 meters per second to reach my eyes. Then a moment’s shadow, then the next shaft of light, and so on, at regular intervals, so that in this way we can keep time.

We are constantly accelerating.

In the infinitesimal amount of time it takes for a shaft of light to travel the length of d, I have been accelerated forward ever so infinitesimally to meet it, reducing the distance each successive beam of light has to travel, narrowing the intervals between them from what you experience up in front, quickening the beats of light and shade and light and shade and light.

Time dilates.

Let’s pretend: that before we boarded we set our watches to move in sync, that they beat in perfect unison, that by some coincidence each tick marks the precise interval between shafts of light from my perspective. Let’s pretend that I am sitting here in the back, my world in order, moving with perfect regularity. The speed of light is a constant. Tick, tick, tick, for every burst of light.

Even then, in the front, though your conscious mind could not possibly begin to perceive it, you might subconsciously begin to sense the irregularity: that your watch was moving faster, out of sync, that each tick came a fraction of a nanosecond before the next beam of light; that, on a long enough time frame, you would eventually come to overtake it, that you would gain an extra second, then another, then another, time compounding inevitably until we both knew for sure that I was lagging behind.

We have to accept this: that the speed of light is a constant, no matter where we are relative to each other, no matter our velocities, no matter the directions that we’re headed. That in the equation of S = d / t, speed is distance divided by time, it is time that has to change to compensate. That if we are to exist under the same laws of physics, we have to accept the seconds, minutes, hours, days, years, all the relative differences between us.

I am seated on the back of the train, looking forward into the future. You are seated on the front of the train, looking back into the past.

Writing Jeyna is like:

The coffee! The coffee orders! Coffee shop! The coffee!

Jellybeans. The in depth analysis of jelly bean colors and how it ties into their relationship

Hands! It's all about the hands

Paperwork. The metaphor of paperwork as in how Reyna always tries to keep ahead of schedule and do it properly whereas Jason procastinates and does it the night before.

Reyna's braids. Jason loving her hair. Enough said.

EYES! EMOTION! EYES!

Streets of New Rome. Stories on each street.

War Games. How rivalry turns to an uncertain friendship.

Senate meetings and defending each other in small ways

The little gestures. Fingers touching, leg shoving, a hand on the back, shoulders clashing. It's the small things!!!

Their friends. In depth headcanons for Gwen, Dakota, Bobby, Felix etc even though theres likeaybe 5 lines about them in canon.

AUs! High school AUs, where Reyna is usually School President ; medieval AUs; mortal AUs (Reyna's usually a lawyer)

Songs! Taylor Swift is a staple for Jeyna fanfics.

Nightmares. Sucks but it's for the ✨angst✨

Forehead and cheek kisses!

Ok this is usually me but I do think other jeyna writers do the same. @xstarsarewrong true or nah?

Hole in the Ground, Oregon. Commonly mistaken for a huge impact crater, the eponymous hole in the ground formed as the result of the interaction between magma and shallow groundwater about 13,000 years ago. This event is called a phreatomagmatic eruption, and the resulting crater can be a maar, tuff ring, or tuff cone; depending on the composition and structure. This one is a tuff ring, and large blocks of lava and stuff were thrown hundreds of meters from the hole’s rim.

The crater is one mile across, and about 100 meters deep, making the climb down and back up quite the trek!

Upper Kings Creek Meadow by Dan Gildor

Via Flickr

Passing the parking lot for the Lassen Peak Trail–and not quite having the five hours (or knees) that it would take to hike to the summit as I’ve done twice before, we started our descent with wonderful views of the park.

Near the Kings Creek campground, Kings Creek meanders through Upper Kings Creek Meadow, offering one last photographic opportunity before it was time to head to Old Station for the night.

Patreon December Lucky Drawing sketch request

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*Completed MYth short stories: My Seasons (Hades & Persephone). Eternal Gift (Poseidon & Amphitrite). A Promise (Story before the Olympians). Will (Hera’s decision). Distillation (Birth of Athena)

*Currently updating:  MYth: Inflammation (story of Hephaestus)

The North Anatolian Fault – one of the world’s most dangerous It’s hard to say that there’s a single, most dangerous fault segment in the world, but if we started making a list, the North Anatolian fault would appear on it very quickly.

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