ChaoticDaxes

"why do the trills change appearance between tng and ds9?" Mistake in the logs

THIS IS WORSE. It’s so much worse.

When you hear “there’s no AC” you probably are thinking like…oh that’s rough, but still I’ve dealt with those temps. My old place didn’t have AC. It can’t be that bad.

NO. The lack of AC trickles down into every facet of dealing with the heat in a way that slowly and quite literally boils you alive. It’s not just “oh my apartment is hot this sucks”, it’s “there is nowhere you can go to cool down and if you overheat there is no help available”

For most there’s no AC anywhere. Anywhere. The coolest place available is maybe your local church, or a shopping center. Both will kick you out around 8pm, the hottest part of the day. In France and Spain in particular, the time zone is wrong (Hitler’s fault—we’re still aligned with Germany instead of the UK) and the sun doesn’t set until 10-11pm. Heat is still being actively pumped into your living spaces at 10pm.

And the temps do not meaningfully drop overnight. (Which you might expect if you’re from the American west. Southerners do understand this.) Many people live in stone walled buildings that just keep heating up. This is very literally the experience of being in a stone oven. And there’s no way to drop the temperature. You can’t escape it.

If your body temp climbs to unmanageable levels and you start experiencing heat exhaustion, you can call the hospital…most of which also do not have AC. I’m not sure how they’re treating people, I guess with ice packs? There’s already been a handful of deaths in my city, and that’s before any kind of post-wave reporting. These are real time reported deaths.

Anyway I want you to really, really internalize the sense of panic that starts to set in when you’re in these circumstances. The animal brain really starts to go wild when there’s no options and no escape. That’s why Europeans are posting about suffering.

Svetlana recognizes her right away, when she walks into the bathroom that is shared by a few of the private boxes in the arena. 

Rose fucking Landry.

Her insides leap, of course. But she knows how to play it cool.

"Your boyfriend is playing well this evening," she comments lightly, eyes on her hands under the faucet.

Rose laughs loudly as she reapplies her lipstick. "Oh, Shane hasn't been my boyfriend for like a year. But thanks! He always plays his best against Boston, I think."

"Yes, unfortunately for us," Svetlana says back, grinning.

"Are you dating one of the players?" Rose asks, and isn't she kind to make conversation rather than just excuse herself?

Svetlana grimaces. "No. I am, uh, good friends with Ilya Rozanov, though. We have known each other since we were children."

Rose gives her a delighted grin. "So we're enemies, then?"

She can only smile back. "Looks like it."

Of course, this immediately means they have to get a drink together. Returning to Rose's private box, Svetlana finds herself rubbing elbows with celebrities she's seen in magazines and news articles, clinking one glass, then another, then a fifth, with Rose.

"....but yeah," Rose says after their sixth drink is delivered, "people keep thinking Shane and I are still a thing, right? But he's with someone new! And damn secretive about it, too! So annoying!”

“Ilya is the same!” Svetlana laments, because it’s nice to have someone who understands these damn hockey boys. “She is saved in his phone as ‘Jane,’ but he will not give me any hints about her!” Of course, she knows at least one thing about ‘Jane’ but that’s not hers to tell.

But, amazingly, something like recognition flashes in Rose’s eye. “Wait…Jane? Hang on…” She grabs Svetlana by the wrist and tugs her to a secluded corner, staring at her like she’s just said something life-changing. “Have you heard the name Lily before?” she whispers, eyes wide and nervous.

Svetlana nearly drops her drink as they gaze at each other, analyzing closely. “You…you’re not saying…?”