#no net zero

[buggachat]

Part 178 of my bakery “enemies” au!

baking montage!

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Kofi

#ml #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #marinette dupain cheng #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #adrienette #adrinette #my art #bakery enemies au #this scene is my bane apparently because I keep rearranging the parts and so #anyway remember how i took a break because i rearranged the parts so an incomplete part was wedged in #anyway i completed that part. and then i. rearranged it again. so now it's no longer wedged there and i #THIS PROBABLY DOESNT MAKE SENSE AND IS DIFFICULT TO EXPLAIN BUT I. BASICALLY A LOT OF STRESS FOR NET ZERO CHANGE #GOOD FOR ME!! 😎😎😎 #also i think the spooning scene's mature mark was removed so that's cool #last part still missing though dw about it

[nana-glass-chillhop-radio-hour]

The core of Carpenter's character is that she's a bit of a nonpracticing misanthropist. Like if you asked her what she thought about human nature she'd be all 'humanity is the virus' and she'd go on a long rant about how you can't trust the system and you also can't fight the system and also you can't trust anyone who says you CAN fight the system but the minute she sees a couple dozen wounded civilians in a tactically dicey situation she springs into action with the zeal and tenacity of the Terminator

#also i think if you drew her attention to this contradiction she would simply glare at you and walk away without speaking. #net zero information. #sister carpenter #the silt verses #Carpenter 🤝 Casper the Great Pyrenees sheepdog on a mission from God Herself to the family farm in Decauter GA of coyotes with bright ideas

[quietwingsinthesky]

Elder Scrolls lore videos are like (item not there because of a bug) (michael kirkbride’s writings) (obscure dialogue from Morrowind) (item in wrong place because of a bug) (the dwemer are involved somehow) (michael kirkbride’s writings again) (overanalyzing how the voice actor delivered one line) (cut content) (lore from Skyrim that directly contradicts everything from the previous games) (no one at Bethesda thought about this for very long) (cut content) (cut content) (cut content) (sheogorath)

#and I love it so much #hell yeah baby let me turn my brain off and gain receive a net zero gain of information #elder scrolls

[reasonsforhope]

"A net-zero power system is closer than we think.

New research, published by RMI, indicates that an exponential surge in renewable energy deployment is outpacing the International Energy Agency’s most ambitious net-zero predictions for 2030. 

That’s right: Surging solar, wind, and battery capacity is now in-line with net-zero scenarios. 

“For the first time, we can, with hand on heart, say that we are potentially on the path to net zero,” Kingsmill Bond, Senior Principal at RMI, said. “We need to make sure that we continue to drive change, but there is a path and we are on it.”

And that’s really good news.

Exponential growth in renewable energy has put the global electricity system at a tipping point. What was once seen as a wildly daunting task — transitioning away from fossil fuels — is now happening at a faster pace every year. 

Based on this new research, conducted in partnership with the Bezos Earth Fund, RMI projects that solar and wind will supply over a third of all global electricity by 2030, up from about 12% today, which would surpass recent calls for a tripling of total renewable energy capacity by the end of the decade. 

Global progress in the renewable energy sector

China and Europe have been leading the way in clean energy generation, but the deployment of renewable energy has also been widely distributed across the Middle East and Africa. 

Research from Systems Change Lab shows that eight countries (Uruguay, Denmark, Lithuania, Namibia, Netherlands, Palestine, Jordan, and Chile) have already grown solar and wind power faster than what is needed to limit global warming to 1.5°C, proving that a swift switch to renewable energy is not only feasible — it’s entirely achievable. 

In order to make that switch, globally, wind and solar need to grow from 12% to 41% by 2030. Denmark, Uruguay, and Lithuania have already achieved that increase in the span of eight years.

Meanwhile, Namibia, the Netherlands, Palestine, Jordan, and Chile have grown solar and wind energy at sufficient rates for five years...

The economic impact of climate progress

Not only is this an exciting and unprecedented development for the health of the environment, but this rapid transition to clean energy includes widespread benefits, like jobs growth, more secure supply chains, and reductions in energy price inflation. 

This progress spans both developing and developed countries, all driven to accelerate renewables for a number of different reasons: adopting smart and effective policies, maintaining political commitments, lowering the costs of renewable energy, and improving energy security. 

And with exponential growth of clean energy means sharp declines in prices. This puts fossil fuels at a higher, uncompetitive cost — both financially and figuratively. 

RMI suggests that solar energy is already the cheapest form of electricity in history — and will likely halve in price by 2030, falling as low as $20/MWh in the coming years. This follows previous trends: solar and battery costs have declined 80% between 2012 and 2022, and offshore wind costs are down 73%."

-via Good Good Good, July 12, 2023

Let me repeat that:

For the first time in history, we are on an actual, provably achievable path to net zero emissions

#electricity #renewable electricity #renewable energy #net zero #climate crisis #fossil fuels #wind power #solar power #battery technology #uruguay #denmark #lithuania #namibia #netherlands #palestine #jordan #chile #global development #good news #hope

[muzzlemouths]

what remains after ruination

Eclipse adjacent // Wordcount: 2,045

A year had passed by. Not a day later and no sooner than that since you stepped foot in this dreaded building.

Only in part due to your own resolution. It’d been all over the news; Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria, Gone Up in Flames! A week’s worth of synonyms for accident-destruction-fire-disaster-ruin dribbling out from between reporter’s teeth like crumbs from their stale blueberry muffin breakfast, the story already old news by the time their shirt collar caffeine stains between coffee breaks were well and dry.

After all, there was nothing of value to mourn. “It’s nothing short of a miracle that no one was harmed,” they fed the public scripted lines, little white lies on big tv screens, “a shame the ‘bots are a bust,” another chimed in, “but we’re grateful to have avoided a real tragedy.”

And where were you when the fire broke out? Safely at home, on your couch, shoveling the powdery remnants of dry breakfast cereal into your face, phone in hand, uniform on, and an alarm set to leave in ten minutes. Your favorite generic sitcom played at half-volume across the room having just returned from a commercial break when the news struck, every station within a hundred mile radius offering their briefest condolences to the franchise’s demise. As always, you received your information secondhand, the dry voice of your boss confirming that what you were seeing on the screen was the truth, your phone call interrupted by the jarring ring of your alarm in a gut twisting fit of irony.

“Don’t bother coming in,” they told you, “you’ll receive your final check in the mail by the end of the week.”

“What about the others?” You’d asked on baited breath, hopeful.

“The others… you mean the animatronics?” A beat of silence, and only that, “they’re gone,” management answers, “everything is gone.”

You didn’t want to believe it. For weeks after, you did nothing but fight the information, distancing yourself from the memory of it all together. It was nightmarish, a plague of guilt which circled you like vultures in the night.

You had been there, only a night before the fire. You had been there. Made small talk with the staff bots. Had gossiped with the Glamrocks. And in the Daycare – in the Daycare you had made friendship bracelets. Silly, stupid, trivial, the thought of it makes you want to scream, now knowing what you do and how better you could have spent your last night with them.

Sun had bragged about a new shipment of pony beads and convinced you to sit and help him sort. Sorting them turned into stringing, which turned into knots. You had a pretty pastel lineup by the time he was satisfied, and they had two. One bracelet for each of them, yellow and blue. Your own boasted two stars and a heart, childish additions that you couldn’t bring yourself to argue against at the time, but especially now. It would hurt less to simply throw the gift out or stuff it into a box and stuff that box into a closet, and lock the closet door for the rest of your life. But you don’t do that. You keep the bracelet on your wrist like one keeps a locket against their heart, and you pretend it means nothing.

How impossible it is to find solace in the death of something that leaves no trace behind. You have no grave to visit, no ashes to mourn except the old remnants of a crumbling building they refuse to tear down, no final goodbye.

“See you in the morning,” they’d said, something heavier weighing on their tongue. Ultimately, they decided against the words and offered you a parting smile, instead. Warm, doting, it had felt like home.

It’s the last thing you have of them.

And you try to get past it. You run through every stage of grief like it’s a marathon and you’re late for the next race already, but you have no trophies to show for it, no rewarding fulfillment. The wound is fresh and raw. The gaping cavern of hopelessness no less enormous. You are as bitter and traumatized as the day you received that call.

Maybe that’s why you’ve found yourself here again, on the doorsteps to the plex, three-hundred-and-sixty-five days since you last dared to look in its direction. What you need isn’t medication or a therapist burning through your pockets, it’s closure. You need to see the body.

This suffering will not recede until you’ve convinced yourself there is nothing to return to.

There’s a sixth stage of grief they don’t want you to meet. If you remain a stranger to its siren call then you really, truly, will start to feel better. That’s what they say, time and time again, and it’s what you believed for a long while, but you’re through with fighting this emotion and through with pretending it doesn’t rule your every waking moment. Its name is lunacy, and it tells you to duck beneath old, yellow tape and take a brick to the building’s rotten structure.

The shattering of glass falls on deaf ears. You march through the opening with purpose, giving no thought to the nicks and scrapes and beads of crimson that form along your skin as you make your way further into the depths of this desolate building. No life stirs from its festering core, nor light from the smoldered ceiling, blackened with old soot. Debris crunches beneath a pace that refuses to slow until you find yourself standing before the two doors most familiar to you, and only then, do you stop.

Everything stops.

Sanity winds you with its return, startling you into questioning what the hell you’re doing here. They’re dead. You know that, don’t you? Really, deep down inside, you know it to be true. You know there’s nothing that could evade such devastation as this. You know they are gone. For good. Forever.

Still, that minute, resilient hope continues to pulse with a beat of its own desire, and you haven’t the strength to put an end to it now. After a year of waiting, of wailing, of walking into circles that lead to nothing but more agony, you can’t bring yourself to call it quits. Not after you made it this far. You had to know, once and for all, or the question would drive you over an edge you’ve been skirting beyond recognition.

Your hand outstretches and comes to a halt at the doorknob, fingers twitching a flick of the wrist away, and there it sits, hesitant, terrified, until desperation spurs it forward the remaining way and the rusted knob is turned ever so gently to the right.

The door springs open with a force that drives you backwards, tumbling stumbling fumbling through the air, knees buckling, you land on your ass with a hardy thump and stare, aghast, at the wreckage that stands between the open frame.

A familiar face stares back.

The animatronic bursts from their entrapment like confetti out of a canon, claws drawn and eyes aglow with a menacing half-grin, only reeling themselves back a step upon the sight of you, where they go completely still.

The scream that rips through your throat does not come unbidden; they are not your beloveds but something else entirely, a grotesque assortment of gears and torn fabric, disheveled beyond belief, splayed about with the same obscenity of exposed bone. They are not Sun and they are not Moon and they are not someone or something that you can easily recognize, simply a horrifying by-product of disaster.

Even still, your fear appears to force them back a cautionary second step, and then a third, as if taking on the frail hope that they won’t scare you so terribly in the dark. That if you can’t see them past the shadow, maybe you won’t look at them that way.

“Ffr…rrrr...fri…f...”

You swallow hard around the lump in your throat and attempt to make sense from any of this. The word it– he– they attempt to speak is as familiar as it is foreign, and you can feel an immediate shift in the way your lunacy becomes hysteria, and you laugh. You laugh even as tears well up and begin to river down your cheeks. You laugh as their arm outstretches to meet you—

“Don’t!”

–and then you stop, and they stop, too, and all falls silent.

The expression they make is beyond your understanding. Where before you could reasonably find human emotion in their mechanic smirks and smiles, now all you see is barren metal. Loose gears with sharp edges. It creates a nausea that builds and builds until you want to roll over and relieve yourself of everything you’ve ever consumed.

Rather than try again, their arm recoils ever slowly and instead lifts to point at the wrist of their other, gesturing with great hesitance to the two bracelets found there. One blue, and one yellow.

“Ff...fri…e-end?”

Your stomach lurches and then drops as it comes to a conclusion. Quickly, your gaze snaps toward the pastel beads that sit so neatly on your own wrist, the string keeping them together now old and fraying. Your eyes return to their wrist and see perfect color among the blackened metal. The string beneath it still holds up despite its surroundings having burnt hopelessly. The implications of this – that they protected it to the very end – immediately severs any remaining instance of fear.

You move blindly through the tears, climbing back to your feet with every intention to try again. The creak and screech of crooked metal can be heard as they retrace another step backward in response, flinching from your approach, allowing you greater space between them. It makes your heart plummet to the very pit of your stomach.

“They told me you were dead,” you cry, “they told me there was nothing left to save,” a daring step forward has you that much closer to them, and then another, and another, slow and shaky as it goes, “they told me not to come looking,” your feet stop directly before their own, bare-toed silver against scuffed rubber. You share their shadow and in their sorrow, mourning the short distance still between you and the distance of the days you’ve spent apart. They wait for your lead, paralyzed with anticipation, as you raise a doubtful, trembling hand to cup their ruined cheek. “Is it really you?”

The stillness is suffocating, no less agonizing than the phone call, because any answer beyond the one you seek will feel like death all over again. You can’t imagine yourself content in life with the knowledge that the one you care so deeply for – even without recognition, without ever having said the words – is nothing more than a husk of who they once were. It would ruin you.

And what remains after ruination?

Love remains. Love remains and it is a slow, sure nod. It is a cold hand cupping with meticulous care over your own and refusing to let go. It is them. And they are yours.

A sob breaks from your throat before you can stop it, greater and louder than you've allowed yourself to feel to the day. Relief floods your chest until you think it might burst.

The hand at their cheek pulls back if only to wrap around their waist, fingers bunching desperately into the remaining fabric of their collar and smearing the ash at their back, holding so tight that you hear their frame begin to creak and moan, followed immediately by their own arms cradling your body against them with an equally bone-crushing weight, one you for once don’t fight. Rather, you would be content to stay like this forever.

It isn’t the pins and needles in your arms or the pungent smell of smoke that eventually forces you out of the position, but instead, the sudden forming of a plan and your intention to immediately put it into action. When you pull away it’s to take both of their hands in your own, and only then do you step back from the door, guiding them toward you.

“Come on,” you smile, because at last there is reward for your hope, “…let’s get you home.”

#drabbles #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #sundrop #moondrop #fnaf eclipse #DCA fandom #I know we have Net Zero information about them from the ruin trailer but work with me here #I needed this. okay. #iIStS au

[saionjeans]

characters who should swap bodies (via curry explosion) for maximum results

kozue & miki (fascinating)

nanami & touga (devastating)

juri & saionji (homosexuals)

wakaba & utena (bittersweet)

juri & nanami (comedic)

anthy & saionji (revenge)

juri & shiori (insane)

#u #was also gonna say anthy & touga but i literally don’t think anything would happen. net zero kinda cataclysmic event #anyway. not tagging everyone

[dsudis]

Hey the ADHD meds + vitamin C post is misinformation, that’s not true across the board and some adhd meds are fine even mixed into orange juice or yogurt

Ther Drug Monit. 2016 Dec; 38(6): 769–776. Published online 2016 Nov 16. doi: 10.1097/FTD.0000000000000343

PMCID: PMC5158093PMID: 27661399

Whoops! Good to know!

#adhd #medications #it's a net zero information day

[a-town-called-hometown]

flowey having such a low tolerance for frustration is endlessly funny. there are a thousand hilarious ironic hells you could put that guy into and most of them are some flavor of "has to deal with an everyday annoyance." cringe conversation with sans. getting stuck in traffic. can't beat a level of candy crush. homework he doesn't like. item got stuck somewhere he just barely is incapable of reaching. can't figure out where he put his stuff. hell is real for flowey undertale and it comes in the form of daily inconveniences

#i think a lot abt how in any ending where he survives he has like net zero ability to cope with certain very normal stuff #instant gratification gamer brain broke ya a little bit didnt it little guy #though thats also just a very normal child trait that he may have had prior to Infinite Savescumming #also I was thinking again abt my concept of deltarune asriel working in sans' store. retail with SANS as his boss.

[kennysdeadbody]

I got the idea of pirate kyle and merman Kenny🙈

I'm going to be so fr I've never seen that au with K2. I had only seen it for Kyman tho I was quite disappointed..😭😭

I also live for your art and your art style I love it sm and I love the way you draw K2. I live for it.💞

THANK YOU SM !!! this was super fun to draw

#nobody tell my marine biologist gf that i did zero research / referencing for the kennys fish end #also dont look closely at the net its hard to draw :( #sp k2 #kenny x kyle

[life-on-our-planet]

#does anyone care if i post this extremely random aesthetic type gif? ^^' #it was a moment in the owl vid & it's so pretty i just had to #tree #moon #aves #net zero info post

[apotelesmaa]

Distressing that people think ruikasa are capable of emotional introspection and self awareness like we are talking about two of the most emotionally dense characters in the game. Canon compliment characterization is them being stupid as all hell. New levels of idiocy are being discovered over here at PXL.

#my personal hot take is tsukasa ‘do now think later’ would say something #but rui would do mental gymnastics to excuse it as friendship only & tsukasa would go oh ok he doesn’t want me. #Guess I’ll Just Suffer Forever. #rui is just like. absolutely horrific at processing his own emotions. & tsukasa is just stupid (fond) #to elaborate he recognizes his emotions he just doesn’t process them at all until they come back later to bite him in the ass #i say pxl bc emunene are included in this and nene is also shit with emotions #emu is the only one here capable of genuine self awareness but she doesn’t communicate her feelings so. net zero emotional competency #all around. love wxs. absolute circus show of dumbassery. (fond) (terminal brain worms).

[ombuarchitecture]

Miner Road

Orinda, California.

The clients are a couple of environmental scientists who, along with their two sons, relocated from the Oakland Hills to the warmer climate of Orinda. Their commitment to sustainability, including a request for net-zero energy performance annually, was evident in their thinking throughout the design process. A three-bedroom program began as a remodel of a 1954 ranch house at the foot of a hill next to a seasonal creek. After finding the existing structure and soils to be unsuitable, the direction settled on reusing the existing footprint under the shade of a Valley Oak that had grown up close to the original house. The surviving portion of the original house is the fireplace which was wrapped in concrete and utilized for structural support. This made additional grading unnecessary and allowed the new house to maintain the same intimate relation to the old oak.

By Faulkner Architects

#miner road #Faulkner Architects #Orinda #sustainability #net-zero energy #1954 ranch house #remodel #reusing the existing footprint #open living layout #Corten steel #natural environment #architecture #green architecture #Greenhouse

[jmoonjones]

Whether you're chillaxing like Bryaxis in parts unknown, being active in your new workout gear (they got jealous of the Valkyrie spandex makeover so Bryce hooked them up) or stuck with family, I hope you have a swell long weekend. Or just a lovely Monday!

#bryaxis gives zero fucks and I love them for it #they're absentmindedly plotting pranks on cassian #spandex is true magic #nesta and elain need to invest in a nyx-sized butterfly net #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acosf #elain archeron #nesta archeron #cassian acotar #azriel shadowsinger #bryaxis #bookblr #acotar fanart #acotar art

[smittyw]

starter evolution lines

#ocs #no id #qamar #nat #molly #character design #hm if they were starter pokemon types theyd be water grass fire in that order #but i already have pokemon teams for them that dont match any of those types. so rly net zero information learned today #gotta think abt their future iterations next 🫢‼️ #and well everyone else . lol

[tortilla-of-courage]

so like did faron put those big fish bulls that want to kill you on sight all over the flooded faron woods with a Purpose or was it specifically to fuck with link. where did they come from

#faron: im flooding the forest to get rid of monsters. #the parella: ma'am there's big fucking fish that are really angry all over the forest. they're technically monsters. what do we do #faron: eh let them chill. maybe they'll annoy link when he gets here and make me laugh when he gets pissed #i think they should have been somewhere in lake floria or even in the sea sand to make it less jarring #i just think it's funny she flooded the place specifically to get rid of all the monsters and yet. more monsters replaced them. #net zero monster population increase #Skyward sword spoilers #?? ig #tortilla rambles

[constantvariations]

Probably one of the worst aspects of the Abusive Adam subplot is how it’s a deeply ignorant person’s idea of what an abuser looks like

To quote Lundy Bancroft’s Why Does He Do That? Into the Minds of Angry and Controlling Men:

An abuser is a human being, not an evil monster... The common view of abusive men as evil, calculating brutes can make it difficult for a woman to recognize her partner’s problem... She doesn’t realize that he can have all these positive qualities and still have an abuse problem.

They don’t pop out the gate screaming and swinging, like Adam did at Beacon. Abusers know how to be charming, how to play to the crowd, how to twist someone’s reality until they don’t know which way is up. Lots of folk don’t even realize they’re being abused because they’ve been so thoroughly convinced that the problem lies with them rather than their partner. What else are they supposed to think when their partner is so kind and generous and loving to everyone but them?

By writing Adam as a purely evil monster with no redeeming qualities, ShawLuna are contributing to the misconceptions surrounding abuse, making it harder for people to understand their situations or be able to recognize when someone they love is in trouble

If you want to read more of the book, which I highly recommend, here’s a link to an online copy. You can also download it as a free pdf

#rwde #adam taurus #blake belladonna #i dont usually tag characters but this is important enough to me that im willing to toss this net further out #and this is yet another deeply heavy and nuanced topic that shawluna did absolutely zero research on #they want to have the aesthetics of mature messages but dont want to put forth any effort into doing it justice #at best they end up saying nothing but more often than not they end up saying some p terrible shit #combine this w that awful speech mrs b gave in the comics where she declares womens purpose is to fix men #like. unironically #shawcross has gone on record to say that everything in the comics was approved by the team so. uh #that doesnt exactly make him look good