Cleo :3's Profile

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Physicists: G is 9.80665 m/s², but it varies slightly depending on latitude and altitude.

Engineers: G is 10. Close enough. We ball.

Mathematicians: G is whatever you define it to be in your coordinate system.

Experimental Physicists: G is somewhere between 9.78 and 9.83 m/s², depending on where you're standing.

Astronomers: G? You mean the gravitational constant (6.674 × 10⁻¹¹ m³/kg/s²), right?

NASA Scientists: G is 9.80665 unless you're on Mars, then it's 3.721. Adapt or die.

Theoretical Physicists: What if gravity is just an emergent phenomenon?

Flat Earthers: Gravity isn’t real, the Earth just accelerates upward at 9.8 m/s².

High School Students: Wait… is it 9.8 or 9.81?

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Cleo :3 1 month ago • 6 views

fucking hell.
The Electric State adaptation is a bastardization of its source. The original book was a critique on acute hyperconsumerism. The movie is sponsored by planters peanuts. fuck my life.

I hate this world.

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Cleo :3 1 month ago • 7 views

The Lighthouse Keeper

The sea seldom shook anymore.
He could have sworn it had before,
though regardless, now the water only ever remained flat.
No waves.
No breaks.
A reflection so clear he could make out his own face in it, even atop the lighthouse.
He could not, in recent memory, recall ever having seen a passing ship.
Nor could he remember ever having left the island.
The bunker had food and water.
"Nothing else is needed," he told himself,
"for a man to survive."
But when the shores lay still and the night ever silent,
the lighthouse lit and the chores attended to,

His mind wandered.
To be free, to explore
To be brave and see new things
To be young again
To risk faliure
To live.
And when the sun rose he put out the flame
And he returned to his home
And for the day, at least,
He remained.

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Cleo :3 1 month ago (edited) • 7 views

"All cargo ships must submit to a security scan. Please have proper documentation on hand before requesting egress permission."

The voice came loud over the P.A. Nearly deafening to unprotected ears, it was intended to be easily heard even if you are inside a ship.

Plus, they werent technically supposed to be here.

"Remind me why we're jumping through these hoops again?" Katya, exasperated, yelled toward her sister, some ways above her. "Security. We need to get these crates out of the docking bay without them being in a ship." Kathara's response came clearly. "Unless you'd like to spend a weekend explaining to the police why we have... well, whatever is in here" shr said as she heaved the box over a paryicularly steep incline.

They had to shout at eachother. The interior area of a starport such as Sager Memorial, where they are now, is only meant to be accessed by docking ships, and maintenence personel. Outside of the soundproofed interior of a ship, the background noise was deafening. Machinery, roaring engines, even the forcefield in the enterance slot made an audible "wooosh"ing sound as something passed through it.

"Don't drop the boxes. Whatever is in these is worth half a station's upkeep. If you break something, its coming out of your damn bank account," Kathara yelled again toward her sister. "Oh and quit your bitching," she added pointedly, "The airlock isn't far from here.

"And then what?" Katya's response came, partially blocked out by some asshole pilot boosting through the mailslot - which, Katya added silently, was actually illegal, but difficult to enforce since generally they didnt stick around for too long after.

"And then—" Kathara strained as she set the box down next to a maintenance airlock, pausing to catch her breath. The crates were heavier than they looked, and whatever was inside them wasn’t shifting much. Solid. Dense. Expensive. "-then the fun part begins." She bent over and began inspecting the hydraulic mechanisms on the airlock hatch.

Katya sighed, adjusting her grip on her own crate. "Define 'fun.'"

Before Kathara could answer, the overhead P.A. crackled back to life, this time in a much sharper, much more urgent tone.

"All personnel, station security has been elevated to Level Three. All non-essential movement is to cease immediately. Repeat—security level has been raised. Expect delays."

Katya and Kathara exchanged glances. That wasn’t good.

Elsewhere in the station, sirens were beginning to wail. They weren’t loud enough to overpower the constant hum of docking bay noise, but they were there—a distant, insistent alarm that something had just changed. The general chaos of station life was shifting, growing more tense as pilots and workers took notice.

Katya swore under her breath. "They know something's up."

Kathara shook her head. "No. If they knew, we'd already have boots on our necks. This is something else."

She turned her eyes toward the open space beyond the station walls, past the forcefield of the mailslot. The glimmering void was quiet—but she knew better than to trust how things looked out there. If security was ramping up, it meant one thing:

Katya stared at her sister, she spoke as she realized the implications: "Something big's coming. And we're right in the middle of it."

"Does this happen often?" Katya asked, shifting the weight of the crate against her hip.

Kathara didn't answer right away, still fiddling with the manual override on the airlock panel. She yanked at the release lever once, twice—then gave it a frustrated slap when it didn’t budge. "Not like this," she finally muttered. "Security goes up a level when some dumbass gets caught smuggling stims in their engine block. But this is different. Level three means no departures or docking. It means either they're keeping something inside the station - or more likely - out."

Before Katya could respond, the station P.A. blared again—this time in a voice unmistakably tense, clipped, and military.

"Attention all docked vessels. Due to ongoing security concerns, outbound departures are temporarily suspended. Please remain in your assigned berths until further notice."

Katya swore under her breath. "Well, that's fantastic. So much for sneaking this out in a ship."

Kathara sucked in a breath through her teeth. "Yeah, we’re not waiting this out." She gave the crate a nudge with her boot. "We’re moving. Now."

Katya adjusted her grip on her own crate, throwing a wary glance down the length of the docking bay. People were starting to notice. Crews who’d been lazily checking manifests or making last-minute repairs were suddenly more alert. Conversations were more hushed, eyes flicking toward the mailslot or deeper into the station.

"Won't they notice us?" she asked, throwing a sidelong look at some dock worker on a nearby pad who had been staring at the two for almost a minute now. "If they do, i doubt anything will come of it. They have something else to worry about." Kathara finally gave up on trying to open the airlock. Defeated, she pocked the crate back up. "Change of plans:" she started, "we make it to the nearest docking pad. Whatever is happening, id rather be behind a flight stick for it."

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Cleo :3 1 month ago (edited) • 4 views

The planet Mars has spent the last four billion years doing absolutely nothing, which, to be fair, is still better than most of us.

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Cleo :3 1 month ago • 4 views

You will never again be as young as you are right now, and that is neither good nor bad—it just is. Anyway, here’s a duck on a skateboard.

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Cleo :3 1 month ago • 9 views

did you know that until now i didnt know you knew i knew you didnt know i knew you know?

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Cleo :3 1 month ago • 9 views

two people decide to play 5d chess with multiversal time travel. White makes the first move. Qa8#.

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Cleo :3 1 month ago • 10 views

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Cleo :3

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