Nov. 12th, 2015

dragonlady7: self-portrait but it's mostly the DSLR in my hands in the mirror (Default)
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random snippet. I was paging through my enormous Scrivener Doc O’ Fanfic (this is a real thing and is not *all* of my fic, but is a bunch of different ones, mostly unpublished, and contains all of my SGA and MCU fic, and more; it’s three years old and about two point five million words, I just looked that up and am not exaggerating) and found this scrap, which is definitely Choice Is Not A Word -verse, and not part of any particular story but in that continuity. So here you go, because I have a feeling Full of Grace isn’t going to be kind to Tony. (There’s just not room for his POV, so he’s going to be the asshole because we don’t get to see his motivation. Sorry. I don’t dislike Tony, he’s just– well, he was so wrong in AOU it’s sort of impossible to have him be right in a compliant ‘verse.)

So anyway. Tony and Bucky are bros, and talk about Steve, in a short unfinished random snippet I liked when I found it just now. I miss writing Tony like this, and I miss Bucky’s POV. And I have ¾ of the final chapter of Facepunch written, BTW, just– the other story is addictively progressy at the moment so it’s hard to put down. 

“You got any musical requests?” Tony asked.

Bucky sat on the low workbench— it wasn’t a gurney, absolutely wasn’t, and he didn’t have words for how grateful he was that it wasn’t anything anybody had ever mentioned— and kicked his feet a moment, considering. “Mastodon,” he said, “Leviathan.”

“Oooh,” Tony said, “that’s a good one.” He pointed one finger. “You’ve done some research.”

“Listening to music is my primary method of not freaking out,” Bucky said. “I may or may not have an encyclopedic knowledge of the music of the last nine decades or so.”

“I like music sort of punishingly loud,” Tony said, and it wasn’t a question but sort of was.

“I noticed,” Bucky said drily. “It’s probably better that way.”

“I always sort of wonder if Steve’s going to tell me off for it,” Tony said, “since he’s got something up with his hearing or whatever, but—“

“No,” Bucky said, “I don’t think his is much better than mine. It’s sharper, but it’s not like we hear things louder. Loud music is fine.”

“Ah,” Tony said.

“I don’t really get why you and Steve don’t get along,” Bucky said. “I mean, I know he’s an asshole, you don’t gotta tell me, but I can’t figure out why that bugs you, I’m an asshole and we get along fine.”

“You’re kind of the opposite of an asshole,” Tony said, frowning inexplicably.

Bucky made a face. “I guess you don’t get the typical Bucky Barnes experience,” he said. “I haven’t stolen your girl even once.”

“I figured that was hype,” Tony said.

Bucky laughed. “It was,” he said. “I never stole anybody’s girl.”

“And Steve’s not an asshole,” Tony said. “We just got off to a bad start, he and I. And I just keep… saying all the wrong things.”

“Naw,” Bucky said, “Steve’s an asshole. He tries, with you, though, so that’s good— he doesn’t try if he doesn’t think it’s worth it.”

“He tries more because of you,” Tony said. “I think he’s worried if he pisses me off I won’t help you.”

“No,” Bucky said, “that’s not it. He’s not worried about that. He’s just realizing it’s extra assholey to be a dick to you when you and I are buds.”
dragonlady7: self-portrait but it's mostly the DSLR in my hands in the mirror (Default)
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variablejabberwocky:

scarlettohairdye:

atlxolotl:

supernatasha:

The Barefoot College in Tilonia, Rajasthan was started by an Indian man named Bunker Roy. The organization is essentially a college that teaches women from all over the world (but primarily “developing” countries) how to be solar engineers. 

That’s right. Solar engineers.

Classes are attended by local women and women from Peru, Fiji, Rwanda, Nepal, Belize, Ethiopia, Bhutan, and more who are illiterate or semi-literate. Most of them are from rural and poverty-stricken areas. The school does not take attendance, have exams, demand their students speak English or have prior education, and does not ask for fees. These women learn how to make solar panels and bulbs, how to plug them into an electrical grid, and how to provide clean renewable energy to their entire village. They then take this knowledge back to their hometowns in distant countries. 

How are they taught without a common language? Everything technical is color coded. The women learn important words “LED, wire cutter, copper, connection, etc.” They communicate through common sense and the desire to learn. The college accepts anyone and everyone, mothers, lower castes (still an ongoing problem in India), older women, young women, women who have never attended school, married women. 

Since 2004, the College has taught at least 250 women from 41 different low-industrial countries to be solar engineers. 5 out of their 8 engineer professors are women. 35 out of 200 workers are physically disabled. The BC is currently powering both their own facility, homes in nearby villages and towns, and their former students are powering homes all across the world from wisdom and materials imported from the BC. Their local villages pay their salary. 

Roy did try to teach both men and women, but they didn’t stay in the harsh conditions or wanted jobs that paid more (as the BC doesn’t hand out “official” diplomas or degrees). Eventually, the college became largely female. “Why not invest in women, older women, mature women, gutsy women who have roots in the village?” Roy said.

I cannot emphasize how amazing this organization is. The Barefoot College is a safe and accepting place for anyone who wants to learn about clean and renewable energy. It encourages women’s empowerment, helps them out of poverty, and provides solar energy to places where the prices of kerosene and batteries are excessively high.

Sources (please look over them as there are more pictures and I could never do justice to how incredible this entire thing is with just my own words): [x][x][x][x][x][Bunker’s Ted Talk][Donate]

“To date, Barefoot College has trained about 15,000 women, most of them previously uneducated, to become teachers, construction workers, water testers, artisans, photographers, dentists, social activists, and solar engineers. The women, in turn, have brought basic services–such as water, light, education, and healthcare–to at least half a million people.”

Shit yes.

#the men didn’t stay#the men didn’t want to deal with the harsh conditions#the men wanted high-paying jobs#tell me again that women are weak and frivolous#keeping the tags
dragonlady7: self-portrait but it's mostly the DSLR in my hands in the mirror (Default)
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So– OK Tumblr peeps, I have messaging now so if you want to try it, I will try chat. It doesn’t work on my mobile browser tho, so my availability is sporadic. But that’s cool. I won’t initiate unless I’m pretty sure you have chat, so– if you are a human or similar (I’m not fussy but I don’t need to chat with bots) and don’t want dirty talk, I’m down to try it maybe, but don’t take it personal if it turns out I can’t hack it.
And #2, I’m doing a friending spree on dreamwidth. I mirror stuff clumsily there and LJ, but I’ll try to clean that up, and I think I’m gonna start only posting long stuff there– maybe?
We’ll see. Anyway, I’m dragonlady7 there, and I’m sorry about the username it predates my having experienced any cinema ever and is a reference to an unpublished novel about literal dragons and is not a reference to a racist stereotype because I didn’t know.
And I’m sorry that’s so unwieldy but I feel like I need a disclaimer because in 2001 I was ignorant as hell.
I am less so now and would love to be able to have threaded-reply discussions on a platform where I am not a product.
dragonlady7: self-portrait but it's mostly the DSLR in my hands in the mirror (Default)
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A video posted by @bomberqueen17 on Nov 12, 2015 at 12:45pm PST

I’m not ready for the end of days you guys (at Delaware Camera)
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A video posted by @bomberqueen17 on Nov 12, 2015 at 12:37pm PST

Plane coming in in high wind over blown-out traffic lights and three-car accident with no emergency response on scene, Transit Rd in Amherst (at Delaware Camera)
dragonlady7: self-portrait but it's mostly the DSLR in my hands in the mirror (Default)
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Emergency crews cleaned up the accident caused by the blown-out traffic signal, then packed up and left no one to direct traffic, so we’re starting the timer until the next accident. Broken stop lights are a four-way stop but cars are going 45mph thru this intersection without hesitation. (at Delaware Camera)
dragonlady7: self-portrait but it's mostly the DSLR in my hands in the mirror (Default)
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I’m home, I’m alive, and I need a fuckin’ drink. I was not ready for the Seventh Seal to get broken. Yowza.

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