i got a prompt if you want it: Scully sees mulder in the red speedo
I cackled. S1.
With her hands clasped behind her back, she waited for his sputtering head to pop out of the water before crouching down to greet him.
“Skinner’s secretary told me I’d find you here,” Scully said, following as he glid to the step ladder. She waved a subdued hello to two agents striding by with towels on their necks, both of whom she worked with while on general assignment. Their answering smiles were awkward as they picked up their pace. Turning back to Mulder, she crossed her arms over her chest. “I didn’t know you left the basement after hours.”
“Ah, but it’s before hours Scully,” he responded, climbing out of the pool. He grabbed a towel from the edge and brought it to his face, precisely at the moment Agent Scully forgot everything about the manner in which she normally conducted herself. Or, in fact, the manner in which any human being might conduct themselves, in terms involuntary breathing, a closed mouth, and eye lids that descended, and then lifted back up, in even intervals.
Mulder chattered away, and God help her she held her own, bantered and cajoled and – they just don’t fit him right, that was the issue, they were much too tight – she talked business, slipped a file into his hands after he draped his towel over one sculpted shoulder – he was beautiful, her partner was gorgeous, and his cock was right there – and she said nothing, did not make a sound when he leaned into her space, cool and slick, chlorine scented and morning-person chipper, not even when she tailed a bead of water like a bored traffic cop with a brand new pad of tickets from his jawline to a puckered brown nipple.
She might have even gotten away with it, too, if she had remembered how to walk. He was nearly ten feet ahead of her by the time he noticed. He turned back and frowned. “You coming Scully?”
She blinked, ducked her chin, and scurried after his firm, bright red ass, her head tucked to her chest like a tail between her legs.
Monet at Vétheuil (88) Lavacourt as seen from Monet’s garden Monet’s garden lay almost immediately at the Seine. Here we can see the river right behind the flowerbeds, with the small island in the middle that we recognise from a number of other paintings that show the hamlet of Lavacourt across the Seine. Small islands like the one we can see, have been dredged away since to facilitate water traffic.
Claude Monet, Fleurs à Vétheuil (Flowers at Vétheuil), 1881. Oil on canvas, 60 x 75 cm. Private collection
So I have been working in the aquaponics industry for nearly 2 years now and the biggest thing in aquaponics/hydroponics is biosecurity. Nothing kills a pond/system like bringing diseases in from another system.
For example, at SW we had separate nets for each set of tanks and those nets had to be soaked in bleach between uses. There were biosecurity mats to clean boots and the truck and tanks had to be power washed between pick ups and deliveries.
It’s not just a legal thing but everyone in the industry knows that it’s crucial to keep species and crops healthy and living.
How this applies to ponic/solarpunk:
If we are talking about an established society that is generations old, then these biosecurity protocols would be very ingrained as cultural norms.
Depending on the size of each system (whether it is contained in just a backyard or of its interconnected throughout a community) these protocols change.
At the very least, changing shoes or removing them when entering buildings would be very common practice.
As much as I adore the idea of soil stained skin and perma-dirty fingernails, I believe hand and body washing would be something of a religious practice. More like a necessity that ended up having superstition linked to it.
In addition to ritual clensing between houses, the border of districts and cities would have biosecurity protocol. It’s not questioned or complained about because every citizen knows the importance. It’s life or death. There would have to be people responsible for the procedures but it would basically be the more thorough version if what people do at home so not much guidance is needed.
I would really like to hear some discussion about this.
Why Launchpad is so much better at steering a submarine than a plane or a car:
- It’s not only already on the ground, it’s below it. It’s like starting pre-crashed.
- There’s very little traffic under water and those fish he dinged aren’t going to loudly complain and demand his insurance information, unlike SOME people.
- Subs are apparently so easy to drive, you can sleep through it without causing an accident.
- Water makes everything super slow and floaty, so gravity stops being a jerk for once.
- Ducks and water are made for each other (unlike ducks and sky/land). If ducks were meant to fly, they’d have wings. And if they were meant to drive cars, they’d have, uh…some kinda special appendages to deal with all those complicated pedals and control thingies.