‘My name. “Ron.” And you said…something about a wand…’ Hermione turned a fiery shade of scarlet. Harry remembered: it had been the first time Ron’s name had been said aloud by either of them since the day he had left; Hermione had mentioned it when talking about repairing Harry’s wand.
‘So I took it out,’ Ron went on, looking at the Deluminator, ‘and it didn’t seem different, or anything, but I was sure I’d heard you. So I clicked it. And the light went out in my room, but another light appeared right outside the window. It was a ball of light, kind of pulsing, and bluish, like that light you get around a Portkey, you know. I knew this was it, I grabbed my stuff and packed it, then I put on my rucksack and went out into the garden. The little ball of light was hovering there, waiting for me, and when I came out it bobbed along a bit and I followed it behind the shed and then it…well, it went inside me. It sort of floated towards me,’ said Ron, illustrating the movement with his free index finger, ‘right to my chest, and then- it just went straight through. It was here.’ he touched a point close to his heart,’ I could feel it, it was hot. And once it was inside me I knew what I was supposed to do, I know it would take me where I needed to go. So I Disapparted and came out on the side of a hill. There was snow everywhere…’
He glanced at our linked hands, where my thumb continued to make secret love to his palm, and narrowed his eyes at me, but let me continue. He closed his fingers gently round my hand, his own thumb feather-light on my pulse. The simple fact was that we couldn’t keep our hands off each other.
Latest Nat & Lo continues from previous episode to examine how fibre optic cables work, a thread of glass the size of a hair that helps transmit and receive data around the world through the physical internet:
Fiber optics, a.k.a. strands of glass the width of a human hair,
transmit billions of pulses of light every second, to help these words,
this video, and everything else on the internet reach your screen. But
what does this *actually* mean? In this video we’re zooming in to reveal
the magnitude of what’s happening at the microscopic level of the
Dora Budor’s immersive environment, Adaptation of an Instrument (2016), continuously reacts to visitors’ presence: light pulses up and down the walls according to the level of activity within, in motions modeled after the neurological pathways in a human body. The presence of viewers also reanimates an image on the space’s ceiling: the amphibian rain scene in the 1999 film Magnolia. By incorporating thousands of special-effect prop frogs used in the film, the ceiling of the work serves to deconstruct the film into its constitutive elements, physical objects and light.
The display’s shimmering geometric patterns nagged at him, as if he should recognise them somehow. Even with his enhanced memory, he couldn’t place where he’d seen them before. They just seemed… familiar.
He reached a finger out to one of the symbols, a blue-green circle. The Spartan expected his finger to pass through nothing more than air. He was surprised when his finger met resistance - and the panel lights began to pulse more quickly.
“What did you do?” Cortana asked, her voice alarmed. “I’m detecting an energy spike.”
“I… don’t know,” the Spartan admitted.
He wasn’t sure why he touched the ‘button’ on the display. He just knew it felt right.
[…] He seemed to know instinctively how to activate the panel - it almost seemed hard-wired, like his flight or flight response. [Halo: The Flood]
the real reason I prefer ps4 to xbox is because when you turn the ps4 off and its winding down the indicator light on top pulses in and out and it really calms me down and reminds me of every single adorable robot ive ever seen so if someone tried to convince me to buy an xbox one id be like “hell no gimme my soft sleepy light any day I don’t need halo”
I sit warm-baked in early Spring sun —
The thawing earth below me —
Writing to you,
Trying to tape your pieces
With a broken script,
Letters that won’t connect.
Tonight is darker
One of the longest of your life,
And your shadows stab
The pulsing light
Of my silent noise
Though you may feel alone,
I am here across the world.
There are no words to
Call forth light,
But damn well believe
I am trying
To will the earth spin
So, I can give you day
And tonight today
Your dawn will break
Summary:You’ve spent the last five years on a dangerous mission to solve the crime that wrongly imprisoned your father. When the Winchesters find you half-frozen on the side of a mountain, they make it their own mission to save your life and make sure you stay alive. But after five years of uncovering horribly dark secrets, you’ve learned not to trust anyone. Especially people who seem like they have good intentions.
The pulsing light of
the nightclub tempted you to forget your life for one night and just let go. It
had been a long time since you allowed yourself to have any fun. You always had
to be on your guard.
But the thumping bass
and flashing rainbow of lights had a pull that was too strong. One night
couldn’t hurt. After all, you didn’t know how to get in contact with anyone in
the Covington family. There were too many small details that pointed to that
family to be coincidence. Somehow, they were involved with your father. They
might even be the key to finally proving his innocence
anon requested a Harrison kind of angst with a fluff ending
so prepare for kind of angst with a fluffy ending
thank you for your request, I hope you enjoy it!
It was late in the evening when he slammed the front door to your shared flat with a force that rattled the walls, both his and your features carved with different extreme emotions. The events of not long ago flashing through your mind like a picture show.
Then Joe was there, pushing through the crowded corridor, face anxious over his green scrub suit. He had come straight from surgery; there was a small spray of blood across the lenses of his glasses, a smear of it on his chest.
“Claire,” he said, “God, Claire!” and then I started to shake. In ten years, he had never called me anything but “Jane” or “L.J.” If he was using my name, it must be real. My hand showed startlingly white in Joe’s dark grasp, then red in the pulsing light, and then I had turned to him, solid as a tree trunk, rested my head on his shoulder, and—for the first time—wept for Frank.