#Automatic Glass Forming Machine

[napstabl00k]

Ceroba feels sick.

Axis is a simple thing. There's little creativity to him; a box of a head, antenna that automatically swivel to catch radiowaves, a single wheel upon which to roll, a heavy gear welded to his right side, and arms powered by thick smog. He's grey and pink and a stained off-white, he's stiff and monotone and-

Ceroba feels sick.

She can see him in his creations.

A bitch of an AI because he never much liked the feeling of being alone, without some living creature that would feel - that would talk to him.

His voice, changed and distorted to become the words that Axis uses.

The way that he'd weld metal together, the bits that he'd use bolts for, the care in the glass and the crudeness in the wheels.

Axis rolls off, Chujin's distorted voice muttering to himself, wondering where his targets went.

Ceroba can't help but watch him, eyes sharp, searching.

The gear on his side is welded on with little thought to making it pretty or smooth.

An old memory comes to mind -

"I completely forgot to think about the weight distribution of this new one," Chujin says as he washes his dish.

Ceroba absently dries her own. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Shifting it all just enough to balance out isn't worth it," Chujin says, thoughtful. "I might just add something to even the weight of the right side- it's the left that's heavier, see."

Ceroba puts her dish away. "I think this will be the one, Chujin." She offers him a smile.

He smiles back. "You say that every time."

It's a shit job - the final touches were always hastily added because of time constraints or just his need to move on to something new.

It's him.

Again.

Ceroba steps out of the locker, careful. At the sound, the child moves too.

Axis is a simple fucking thing.

There's little creativity to him (a box of a head, automatic antennas, a single wheel, a heavy gear, thick smog), and Ceroba feels sick, and Ceroba knows that Chujins before and before and before would have more fun with the design. He wouldn't be grey and pink and off-white, he'd have colour. He wouldn't be so stiff, he wouldn't be so monotone, he'd be more and have more and he'd make Ceroba feel so much worse because he'd be everything that reminds her of Chujin.

Grief grips her in the form of a robot that doesn't recognize her and doesn't recognize who she was to him. Grips her in the form of his bolts and seams. Grips her in the form of his distorted fucking voice.

The trash robot is cute. She likes making it.

There's a bow and Ceroba knows exactly why it's here and exactly who it belonged to. She feels her stomach turn and her jaw clench and she smiles and adjusts it on the shitty scrap metal creation anyway.

Axis is so. Fucking. Simple.

And Ceroba feels so. Fucking. Sick.

He sees their shitty little trash can creation and hearts glow behind the glass of his eyes.

(Of course, even when he's working on something important, on something he needs to get approved, he'd add something like this. Of course, in this antithesis of everything that Chujin loved to do with his machines, wrapped in the ghost of Chujin's way of creating, the soul of it is still so purely him.)

"The shimmer," Axis says, with emphasis. "The complexion..."

There's a beat of silence as Ceroba waits, a memory needling at the back of her mind.

"The..." Axis stops for a half second - just long enough for Ceroba to realize what this reminds her of - and then finishes: "CURVES!"

Kanako makes a gagging noise from the doorway.

"Ewwww..." she whines.

Ceroba turns and sticks out her tongue at her daughter.

Chujin laughs. "Kanako, please. Look, your mother is so wonderful, I just have to kiss her."

"Noooo!!" Kanako wails. "You don't!! Gross!!"

"Her shimmer, her-" he pauses, unsure. "Complexion?"

Ceroba makes an unsure noise. Not his best.

"Her curves-"

Kanako runs up and shoves him, making him laugh and put his hands up to block her.

Ceroba reacts the same as she did then- "Okay! That's enough!"

She places her hands over the child's head, some sort of disconnect between past and present making her pause at the lack of ears perking up under her palms. "C-Clover, let's-" She looks up at the robot.

It's still Chujin's.

"Let's wrap this up."

Clover's soul forces itself back into their body and Ceroba walks up to Axis as he giggles about his newfound love.

There's no similarity to her daughter when she places her hands on either side of Axis' face, but she remembers Kanako's friends coming over, remembers being part of little school-girl's gossip sessions, remembers a situation something like this one.

"Do you wanna know a secret?" Ceroba whispers.

"Yes I would like to know a secret," Axis says loudly.

"They told me that they like you, but will only go out with you if it's casual," Ceroba says, glancing sideways at the trashcan, as though it'll hear her. "Get to know them a little bit, you know?" Advice that once worked on second graders but wouldn't here runs through her head, until she lands on, "Ask what their name is or something."

"Okay," Axis says.

Ceroba stands and takes a step back. "Alright," she says. "Give it a shot!"

"Hello my name is Axis, what is your name?"

Ceroba frowns. Perhaps she hadn't thought this bit through- Their creation can't exactly respond.

Axis waits for a minute, and then starts laughing, a noise so similar to Chujin over the phone that Ceroba jolts.

"You're so funny; want to get married?" Axis asks, and Ceroba is shaken out of her feelings by the absurdity of the sentence.

"Hey! Remember what we talked about?"

Axis turns to her. "They said yes."

Ceroba pauses. "..What?"

"I'm honestly just as surprised as you are," Axis says. "This rocks."

"...Right." A hand comes to tug at her sleeve, and she turns to look at Clover. "Well. Clover and I have to go now."

"Go where?" Axis asks, and he sounds nervous.

"Go where?" Kanako asks.

"Hotland. Just a business trip," Ceroba explains. It feels like a lie.

"Oh," Axis says. "I wish you luck, then. I must recharge, which will set me back to my factory settings, but- [hatted human] and [tall lady] added to [Authorized] list." Axis does a little nod. "There. Now I will not attempt apprehension next time we meet."

Ceroba smiles. "Thank you, Axis."

Axis does a little nod at her again, picks up his fiancé (?) and begins to roll off. Halfway down the walkway, he stops and turns around.

"Oh. One more thing."

Ceroba blinks. "Hm?"

"You said your husband was my creator?"

Her heart drops.

"Would you tell him that I miss him?"

Her eyes burn.

"He was always very kind to me."

"I-" She sucks a breath in, her whole body tense. "Yeah," she says, her voice coming out lighter than she feels. "I'll tell him."

"Thank you," Axis says. "Goodbye."

Axis is a simple thing.

He turns back around, fiancé in his hands, and believes her without a second thought. The gear is still welded to his side. His voice is still something like Chujin's. The smoke pumps from where his shoulders would be, the screws are spaced out with perfect precision, the lights of his eyes still flicker with hearts.

Axis is a simple, simple thing. Who misses Chujin just as much as he is him.

Ceroba feels sick.

[contentloadingandstuff]

NSFW Headcanons - Cloud Retainer

CW: Outdoor stuff, toys. Everything refers to Cloud Retainer's human form, of course.

Stop! Cut time.

Cloud Retainer never had anyone she loved in her lengthy life. Truth be told, before the war finding love (and dick) was not her topmost priority, but the desire was there. After the war… not so much anymore. 

Perhaps it was the depression settling in, but her mind drifted away from this. 

But she met you after all those years of loneliness. She found you alluring, and very enticing. Cloud Retainer didn't have anything against having sex, even if she wasn't that interested in it. 

Even despite her lack of enthusiasm at first, the Adeptus came to quite like it. As she got more and more comfortable with you, her fondness only grew, until she fully opened herself up to you. 

Your woman sees no point in dwelling on why she likes what she likes, if it's not really obvious. She likes to let things happen on their own. 

Cloud Retainer likes it vanilla most of the time, at least when it comes to the sex - where you do it, however, is a completely different story. 

She enjoys bending over for you while looking out from the top of mt. Aocang, especially if the sun just rises or dawns. She'll sigh in satisfaction, not only because the view is amazing… She's of the opinion that it's passion that makes sex great, and that there's no reason to hold off when both of you find yourselves in the mood, wherever it may be. A quiet corner is enough for a rough, fairly loud quickie. Mt. Aocang is hers, after all. 

But most often it will be her Abode where most of the fucking will take place. It's quiet, picturesque, private and completely soundproof. She can also model it to fit her liking - from a romantic, slow dicking high in the clouds to a rough, merciless fucking on the beach - you'll have all sorts of adventures within her realm. 

She will get very snappy if someone will dare to enter her Abode with one of their trivial worries. On her mind is the big cock she's handling, not some moral inquiries of the mortals. 

She likes all sorts of paces for all sorts of occasions. Cloud Retainer prefers pussy over ass and throat, and it comes down to just her personal preference. Her gag reflex is not that good, but she doesn't see a reason to change that. She still enjoys some anal fairly regularly, though. 

Despite not receiving any stimulation from it herself, Cloud Retainer enjoys giving you titfucks with her wonderful, medium sized breasts. 

The glasses stay on. How is she still looking so elegant with cum dripping out of her pussy and your shaft inside her mouth? The ways of the Adepti, that's why. 

Just don't pull the hair, it takes her an hour to get it in order every day, and she'd rather be riding you than sitting in front of a mirror. 

A switch with all her soul. Being able to freely switch between being dominant and submissive makes it so she can enjoy a very broad range of pleasures. 

She is the "Adeptus Mechanicus", so of course she's going to make machines to enhance your play. Most of them will be her own renditions of mortal sex toys - very small vibrating bullets with nearly endless battery, and the ability to be pulled out of whatever hole they go into with your telekinesis skills. Or fleshlights designed meticulously to resemble her slit, not only with automatic lubrication, but also with the warmth, feel and smell. 

Cloud Retainer loves to take pictures of what you're doing for later viewing, or perhaps just to see herself serving you with her body, or enjoying yours. She likes big standing mirrors for the same reason. 

Sometimes when the other Adepti, or Morax, ask her about her day, or why she has bruises and hickeys all over herself, she'll talk about what you two were up to as if it was something completely normal to bring up in conversation. For that reason, it's good to keep an eye on her during social meetings. 

Thanks for reading!

[neonblessing]

10.

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT! ⚠️ Click here to read Neon Blessing from the beginning!

Club RED was a labor of love. A cyclopean eye of neon tubes stared down at the street from the facade of a beautiful temple to excess, bathing the darkening street in bloodred light which played through the mist kicked up by a nearby waterfall. The building was dark glass and darker stone, three stories tall and culminating in a domed roof. It wasn’t even 5 pm, but the line was pouring out the door and onto the sidewalk, foreign raincoats and umbrellas standing side by side with wet-haired Diluvian partygoers.

Shiv had never entered a nightclub through the front before. There’d been one club, the Magpie, that she’d frequented with her friends, but the owner was one of Ornarch’s devout and always let them skip the lines. Huh. She hadn’t been to the Magpie in years. She wasn’t even sure if it was still in business.

The line moved quickly, and before long, she was at the door. “Let’s see some ID.” There were two bouncers, identically dour and militaristic-looking men who loomed over her like a pair of sunglasses-clad statues, their suits custom-made to fit over the bulky structure of a mil-spec exocloak. Thin seams in the skin of their faces suggested the presence of subdermal armor plating to protect what the mechanized armor didn’t. One of them handled a scanner with the practiced care of a guy whose grip could crush a human skull.

Shiv showed them the card. “Kooler sent me.” The one with the scanner stared her down while the other barked a few quick words into a headset. If shit went south, the only viable exit was ducking the rope to the left, but Headset would make a grab for her and if those huge hands got a grip it was over. She’d need to distract him first, maybe blind him. Throw her coat in his face? She started to shrug it off her shoulder, just in case. Scanner continued to glower at her in a prolific display of disdain. He should be too far away to do anything, but just in case-

Headset spoke, snapping her out of her planning.

“Hm?” She’d missed what he’d actually said.

“Go on in. The boss is on the second floor.” Shiv pulled her coat back over her shoulder and brushed past the bouncers and into the club. She pushed her way past a heavy curtain of soundproof fabric and replaced the endless roar of the streets with the endless roar of Club RED’s speakers.

Water poured down gilded fountain walls and colored lights arced and scattered through thick smoke, produced by a mix of sweet-scented cigarettes and industrial fog machines. Waiters and waitresses wearing practically nothing served a very peculiar clientele: half of the patrons were exactly what she’d expected, the sort of wealthy-looking folks willing to spend fifteen credits on a can of beer; and the other half were all grizzled paramilitary types. The burning coal glow of their cybernetic eyes stared out at her through the fog, automatically seeking out her vital organs before flicking back to their drinks.

Shiv scaled the stairs to the second floor, taking a moment to look out on the dance floor from the balcony. The band’s frontwoman was more work of art than human, her limbs all formed from sweeping lines of carbon fiber and steel. Her guitar plugged into a port on the back of her neck, her quicksilver fingers dancing over the strings with surreal grace. She had a voice like an angel with a smoking habit.

“She’s quite something, ain’t she?” A woman’s voice came from behind Shiv. She turned to see Kurtz, for who else could it be? The owner of Club RED was maybe forty years old, a little shorter than Shiv, and built like a brick. Her head was clean-shaven, revealing dozens of tally mark tattoos, in sets of five, spreading from near her temple and across half of her head. Unlike everyone else, she was dressed simply and practically, in sturdy black pants and a tank top, and unlike everyone else, she had a gun at her hip, an antique revolver. Both of her eyes were red: one eye was flesh, with an iris that had either been dyed or transplanted. The other eye was metal, the iris glowing the exact same shade as the vast eye on the front of the building. She carried herself with an easy confidence, bordering on arrogance. “Are you the one Kooler mentioned?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m Joan Kurtz, owner of Club RED and REDEYE PMSC. What brings you to my door?”

First Page – Previous Page – Next Page

[avvail-whumps]

‘guns for hire’ — behind the mask #1

masterlist · next

synopsis — leo’s life is turned upside down when he sees his boss getting murdered. what’s worse, was that he witnessed the mercenary behind the hit taking off his mask, and saw his face. leo promises not to go to the police with his identity, but the mercenary decides it’s not worth letting him go.

content warnings: minor character death, murder, use of guns, blood, failed escape attempt, manhandling, non-con drugging, slightly intimate whumper

Leo was tired.

Exhaustion lay upon his skin like a disease, weighing the dark circles under his eyes.

It wasn’t unusual for his boss, the CEO of the company, to stay late like this. It also wasn’t unusual that Leo, his secretary, was also forced to stay late alongside him, to do the occasional coffee run and complete any new work he deemed necessary. He knew his boss, Jacob Williams, was capable of surviving the night without him, but insisted on Leo staying too.

A quiet, involuntary sigh slipped past his lips, jabbing the buttons on the coffee machine lazily. It whirred, a steaming black liquid filling the cup. 

It was almost three in the morning, and Leo was dying to go home. It was still the weekday, and that meant a bright and early start the next morning. It wasn’t easy to replace a secretary for the day, and his boss was a strict man. 

Too strict, and maybe a little cruel, but despite his small frame and height, Leo was a lot studier than he looked. 

Wedging the plastic lid on top of the cup, the blond haired man was satisfied with the finished product, swiveling on his heel to return to Jacob’s office. He speculated he would have enough time to complete his tasks before he finished the drink, and mentally prepared to throw himself into his work. 

He was severely overworked, and he couldn’t wait to collapse into the comfort of his own bed, wrapped in his blankets. 

The thoughts made his eyes droop, watching the elevator doors close. 

It was pleasant to stretch his legs and give his weary brain a rest, and a change of scenery always worked well in massaging those tight knots in his brain. The melodic beeping sound cut him from his trance, the automated voice ringing out through his skull, informing him of the number of the top floor. The doors spread open, and Leo stepped out, loosening his tie slightly.

A loud banging noise caught his attention, his head whipping to the left in surprise. The office desks were completely empty, the chairs tucked in and computers switched off. Only the dim ceiling light was left on, as well as that eerie feeling of being alone in a huge building. 

Leo’s stomach rolled with dread. 

It was only him and Jacob here, and possibly a janitor, if they hadn’t left already. It seemed the sound had come from his boss’ office, the blinds snapped shut and door open a jar. His shoes were muffled against the carpet as he skittishly approached the room, glancing at his own desk on the way. It was exactly how he left it, except…

A frown graced his brows, reaching forward and setting his picture frame right. 

It seemed to have fallen over, and he was grateful the glass hadn’t cracked. Was that what made the noise? He stared at the picture of his mother, but turned towards the door in dismissal. Leo was more than happy to finish the day. He gripped the handle, pushing it open slightly. He could hear faint voices, and he froze. 

Was Jacob talking to someone on the phone? He couldn’t be. Calls got redirected to Leo automatically. Out of curiosity and respect, he silently nudged the door open further, giving him a better view. 

What he saw made his blood run cold. 

There was somebody else in the room, dressed up in black and a mask covering his face. He was pointing a gun. He was pointing it directly at Jacob. The man was shaking behind the desk, tears streaming down his cheeks uncontrollably. His lips were quivering, no doubt trying to form words. It was the most emotion the stoic man had ever shown; he looked absolutely terrified.

The masked man seemed to say something, too quiet for Leo’s eavesdropping ears, tilting his gun. Jacob’s eyes widened, shaking his head widely. 

Leo heard his voice rise in a pique of panicked desperation. “No, wait, please.” 

Then there was a sickening bang, and Leo slapped a hand over his mouth. He suppressed the urge not to let out a horrific scream, watching in horror as Jacob’s body slammed against the cabinet behind him, before dropping to the ground lifelessly. Splatters of blood littered the glass in streaks, pooling onto the carpet by his lifeless body. Nausea stirred in the pit of Leo’s belly, tears pricking at his eyes. 

He’d just been shot. Jacob had just been shot. 

The secretary’s breath hitched in his throat, panic gripping him. God, was he going to die too? 

The masked man’s shoulders heaved with a sigh, before he slid the gun into his belt wrapped around his waist. Those gloved fingers dipped under the fabric of his mask, before slipping it off his head, revealing tousled black hair. He pressed the back of his hand against his forehead wearily.

Leo didn’t see anymore than that. His feet staggered backwards, knocking the coffee cup with the heel of his shoe, causing him to flinch violently. He didn’t remember dropping it, but the black liquid was staining the floor under his feet, specks of steam rising into the air.

He felt a wave of dizziness slam into him, sending him into his desk. He threw his arms out to steady himself, whirling around in terror. He snatched the phone, his fingers barely even finding enough strength to punch in three digits on the black body. He pressed the cold object against his ear, the piercing rings vibrating through his skull. He could hardly keep his breathing under control. 

He couldn’t stop replaying that moment, where the gun had gone off, and the bullet had embedded straight through his skull. The blood that followed, the useless slump of his body and the noise it made when he hit the floor. Leo felt tears burn in his eyes. 

God, he didn’t want to die. He really didn’t want to die. 

The door was pulled open, and Leo whirled around, his heart lodged in his throat. The killer stepped outside, but he instantly halted as his eyes landed on the secretary. A shudder raced down Leo’s spine when a female voice rang in his ear. 

“911, what’s your emergency?” 

He pressed himself against the desk, the edge digging into his hip so hard, he was sure it would bruise. The words couldn’t leave his lips, clogged in his throat.

The man’s eyes were piercing, slicing straight through him, leaving him paralised to the spot. It felt like he was being stared down by the grim reaper himself. His face was still in clear view. He hadn’t even put the mask back on. Leo’s bottom lip quivered, heart banging against his ribs. 

The man blinked, before his brows relaxed, and he slowly reached for his belt. He pulled out the gun, and when the barrel pointed in his direction, Leo almost burst into tears. 

“Hello?” 

The killer raised a brow, nudging his gun downwards. The command made his stomach sink to his boots. Leo opened his mouth to speak, but the man’s gloved finger thumbed at the metal contraption, and a sharp clicking sound pierced through the air like a bullet. The sound alone spurred Leo into action, fumbling to slam the phone back down into its slot on his desk. A trembling sigh left his lips, feeling a hot tear bead down his cheek. 

The man’s lip quirked into a small smirk. “There we go.”

The secretary’s hands were shaking as he lifted them weakly into the air, sticking close to his desk. The mercenary reached up to something on his shoulder, pushing his fingers against it. A loud crackling sound was heard.

“We have a bit of a problem,” he sighed. His voice was smooth, and it was making Leo shiver. “Can you make room for another?”

There was a muffled voice on the other end as Leo’s breathing picked up. Make room for another? What did that mean? The man released the communication device, redirecting his attention straight back to him. Leo’s eyes instantly flickered to the ground, pinching them shut.

“I-I didn’t see your face,” he shakily whispered.

The man scoffed in amusement. “It’s a bit late for that.”

“I won’t tell the cops, I promise! Please!”

“You just called them.” He raised a brow. “How can I trust you?”

Leo dissolved into a series of more tears. It felt like the gun was burning a hole straight through his forehead, unable to stop imagining that small bullet embedding in his brain. He shook his head from side to side. “I promise, I-I promise, please just let me go...”

The mercenary hummed, his eyes lacking any sort of compassion. He head turned aside for a moment, surveying his surrounding with one languid sweep. His heavy boots trailed along the carpet, coaxing Leo from his paranoid state. He cracked open one eye, too afraid any movement would cause the man to shoot him.

He gripped the back of one of the chairs, jerking it out from under the desk. The wheels smoothly rolled across the carpet as he swivelled it towards him, back facing Jacob’s door. His gloved hand patted the top, nudging the gun firmly.

“Sit.”

Leo didn’t need to be told twice. It took him a few horrible seconds to force his legs to move, staggering under his own weight. His fingers dug into the arm of the chair as he lowered himself down, shoulders tense. He half expected to feel the gun on the back of his skull, and a jarring pain before darkness, but the mercenary strode in front of him instead, gun hanging limply from his fingers.

Leo pressed his hands into his lap.

“You’re the secretary, aren’t you?” The man asked, his eyes flickering towards him. His mouth flopped open uselessly, before he quickly nodded his head. The man’s expression tightened.

“You weren’t supposed to be here,” he sighed, nonchalantly rubbing the gun against the side of his head. Maybe with some luck, he might accidentally shoot himself. “I didn’t see you when I disabled the cameras. How annoying. Where were you hiding?”

The gun tipped in his direction. Leo’s breath hitched in panic.

“Getting coffee!” He practically shrieked, pressing his back into the chair. “M-Mr Williams sent me on a coffee run, p-please don’t kill me!”

The mercenary’s eyes landed on the discarded coffee cup on the floor, before sliding back up to Leo’s pale face. He dragged his hand across his forehead, lowering the gun to slide it back into his belt. The secretary let out a trembling breath of relief, like a small weight had lifted off his shoulders.

“This is troublesome,” he groaned softly. “If you’d just stayed at your desk, this would have gone a lot smoother.”

Leo’s eyes widened in horror. The thought of never seeing the attack coming, throat being sliced from the shadows and soiling his own desk with blood. The mercenary seemed to read his thoughts easily.

“No, I wouldn’t have killed you,” he almost chuckled. “Just would’ve put you to sleep for a while. It’s always convenient to have somebody wake up and find the body. You got real unlucky, Mr Secretary; you even saw my face, too.”

He pulled out a bottle of liquid and a syringe from a pouch across his chest. Leo released a terrified sob, jolting in the chair. “No! Please, please don’t! I-I won’t tell, I swear, I won’t tell anybody, please!”

“Back in the seat,” the mercenary warned. Leo rigidly sank back, eyes burning with tears. He watched as the thin needle was pressed into the glass vial, and the plunger was slowly pulled outwards. He watched it fill the syringe, shaking in his boots.

“Please,” he croaked. The man ignored him.

“Like I said,” his voice echoed. “You weren’t supposed to be here tonight. I like to think I’m very thorough with my plans, so I find it odd you were in the right place, right time.”

He paused for a moment, pocketing the now empty vial. “Well, I guess now it would be wrong place, wrong time, huh?”

He took a step forward, and Leo’s heart began rising to his throat. The wheels on the chair stirred under his movement as his legs tensed underneath him. The accusation stabbed straight through his heart, scrambling against the arms of the chair.

“No,” he sobbed, careering backwards. “Don’t touch me!”

“Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”

The chair jerked backwards and when the mercenary was close enough to touch him, he struck him as hard as he could with his leg. He felt his shoe sink into his stomach, successfully knocking the wind out of his lungs. The syringe clattered to the ground, and Leo wheeled backwards, scrambling out of the chair as it smacked abruptly into the wall.

He knew it wouldn’t take long for a man that size to recover. He was stronger, broader and larger than Leo in every way shape and form, and he didn’t doubt he had a horrible chance of escaping from a hitman.

But he tried. Leo was a fast runner.

The adrenaline pumped through his veins in a merciless rush. His shoes were smacking against the hard ground, ricocheting up to his thighs, but he couldn’t care. Couldn’t think.

He reached the doorway and skidded around the corner, slamming into the wall. He leered off it like he had been burnt, using the sturdiness to give himself a firm boost. Just as he was about to begin his descent down the stairs, something firm wrapped around his waist, jerking him back. His feet swept off the ground and a second arm slipped around his neck, pulling him into a hard chest.

Leo let out a terrified scream and thrashed his limbs frantically, desperately, trying to tear free. He felt a gloved hand wind through his hair, yanking his temple painfully against the concrete wall. Leo saw stars burst across his vision as he was shoved violently into the ground, still flailing, still screaming for help.

He felt a burning pain shoot up his shoulder blades, the knee digging painfully into the flesh. His wrists were locked together by a single hand, twisting his arms back at an uncomfortable angle. Another pressed against his mouth, muffling his screams. He heard the mercenary sigh above him.

“Jesus, you’re quick!” He exclaimed, the grip on his wrists bruising. Leo only squirmed desperately, sobbing against his hand. “Did you do track at school? You really covered some ground there.”

The secretary pressed his head into the ground, shaking with fear. The man was far too strong to shake off, and he didn’t think he was going to get another chance for escape. The gloved hand slid from his mouth, and Leo did the only thing he could.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he wailed, dragging his shoes against the ground. “Please let me go! I-I won’t say...anything, just please let me go. I’m begging you!”

“Yeah, you are,” the mercenary shrugged. “But it’s not working.”

He felt a sharp jab in the side of his neck, tearing a pained gasp from his lips. A cold feeling starting spreading through his skin, causing a whimper to catch in his throat.

“No, no, please...” He whispered shakily, but the man wasn’t listening. There was another sharp crackling sound from the man’s shoulder.

“You here? I got another body, I’n gonna need you to—” He stopped, his voice becoming a little sharper. “No, not dead, a live one, you idiot. I can’t climb out the way I came with another person, can you...? Yes, the cameras. Can you get him to do that? No, look, how do you expect me to scale down the building with somebody on my shoulder? Right. Make it quick, there’s a chance the cops could be coming. I’ll...tell you later, get it done.”

Leo’s hearing was starting to go funny. A tingling sensation began building up right in the tips of his fingers, making him feel ridiculously sluggish. It looked like the walls were moving.

His movements quickly began to die down, until he could hardly gather enough strength to move anything at all. A small moan escaped his lips, his eyelids drooping. The mercenary’s weight lifted off him, turning him onto his back.

“That feels better, right? Like you’re floating on cloud nine,” he chuckled, a handsome grin gracing his lips. Leo whined softly as he was scooped off the ground, head rolling against the man’s chest. “Keep flying for a little bit. Just relax.”

So Leo did. He felt a gloved thumb brushing away the tears on his cheek, before his vision was completely consumed in a black mist.

[mechwarrior-rose]

Shelter: Pirate's Eclipse

KENNEDY BEACH OBERON VI OBERON CONFEDERATION 28 SEPTEMBER 3049

Shelter's assessment earlier had been correct. An even dozen lasers, six on each arm. Mediums, by the look of it. No other weapons. Magnetic resonance was convinced the 'Mech was 50 tons. What kind of engine could supply that much power for weapons and still move a 50-ton machine around that quickly? And who the hell designed a 'Mech whose shoulder and hip actuators ran in a straight line right through the torsos?

He and the enemy pilot were circling each other, sizing one another up. The other 'Mechs of the enemy lance stood eerily still. So did the crumpled form of Rieck's Marauder. Why hadn't he punched out yet? He was conscious, had to be, because he'd opened the private channel to receive Shelter's message.

No more time. The enemy tightened their circle in to run directly at Shelter. He slammed down his pedals and ignited the Griffin's jump jets. Light burst from the enemy 'Mech's left arm and gouged nearly all the armor from his left side in a single salvo. Barely anything left on his torso and leg, and the internal structure of his arm was fully laid bare. Burning gods above and below, how powerful were those lasers?! Shelter fired all three of his own in turn. The large and one of the mediums scored deep into the armor of the enemy's right torso; the other medium piddled across their right arm.

Shelter landed harder than he'd intended. Sure, he was certified on a Griffin, but he was still a tech, not a MechWarrior. He'd only ever used jump jets under controlled conditions at the proving grounds. Twice. Six years ago. Automatic systems kept him from stumbling, but he could hear the gyro straining from the effort.

Where was all the heat going in that 'Mech? Twelve lasers, half a dozen at a time in volley fire, in a medium machine. Firing that spread once would put a load on any Griffin, and that was assuming that those over-tuned lasers didn't produce more heat than a standard medium. Yet the enemy didn't seem to feel the heat at all. Shelter scrambled to calculate the minimum heat transfer coefficient to make it work.

Turn off your engineering brain, dumbass! The enemy had executed a neat turn on their own jump jets and brought their left side around to protect their damaged flank. Another six-laser volley and the Griffin's left arm was entirely gone. Hip actuator damaged on the right side. Desperately low armor in both torsos. The neural feedback wasn't in the danger zone, but the loss of the arm was playing havoc with the interplay between the Griffin's gyro and Shelter's own inner ear.

These weren't pirates. Whatever the fuck they were, they were bad news, and they weren't going to stop with the Oberon Confederation.

One more punch of the jets, and the Griffin arced over the enemy machine. Shelter fired the moment his reticle passed over metal, but his eyes were on the beach beyond the cockpit glass. The Marauder's cockpit was still intact. What was Rieck doing?

No, there he was, running along the beach. He'd popped his cockpit hatch and clambered down on his own. The SERE kit pouch was slapping against his thigh as he hauled ass. Good. He could meet up with Razor Two and take refuge in the trees. Shelter prayed to absent gods that he could give them enough time.

Shelter landed more gracefully this time. Still, the impact jarred sweat into his eyes. He blinked desperately. Had to find the enemy.

But the strange 'Mech had collapsed. Shelter's almost literally aimless shots had damaged the enemy's engine and forced a failsafe shutdown.

The remaining enemy 'Mechs were still and silent, as if they were as shocked at the outcome as Shelter was. But soon enough the Catamarauder--Shelter decided it had to be named something--stepped forward. Once again, the woman's voice came over broadband.

"Warrior, you have bested two of Clan Wolf's elite warriors, one in single combat. The outcome of this battle is foregone, but know that your valor is recognized."

"Big talk for someone about to get acquainted with the dirt," Shelter snapped into his mic, then pushed his 'Mech into a run.

The Catamarauder's missile pods roared like lions. Explosions covered the Griffin. Not a single location escaped unscathed, including the head. Two missiles hit high--above the glass, but still close and loud enough to turn the inside of the cockpit into a front seat at the world's worst noise metal concert. Neural feedback, the real shit this time, seared through Shelter's brain.

The Griffin hit the ground. Engine power was gone. Hell, the Griffin itself was probably an unrecognizable slag heap. There was booming and rattling and clanging for what felt like forever. A monitor panel dislodged from the console and bounced off Shelter's neurohelmet. Then, finally, silence, punctuated only by the cartoonish ping-ping-ping of a washer falling into the rear compartment of the cockpit.

Shelter took a moment to catch his breath and assess himself. Probably had a concussion. Always assume a concussion. Gash on his shoulder that he hoped wasn't deep. His muscles and bones were still ringing from the fall. One of his boots had come off.

The radio was on backup power, but there had been a cut somewhere in the feed to the neurohelmet. Shelter popped the buckle on his five-point harness and dragged the bulky helmet off his shoulders. The air against his scalp reminded him that--

He turned up the speaker built into the radio and grabbed the hand unit. "This is Razor Four. Three enemy units in grid gamma six. Razor Lance is down. Request..." He paused. Request what? Reinforcements? Extraction? A blanket and a bedtime story? His head was swimming.

"Warrior Shelter, last of her family," Star Captain Mila spoke on the radio. "Your 'Mech is disabled and your world has fallen. I claim you as isorla for the benefit of Clan Wolf. Stand down and await medical assistance."

"His," Shelter said automatically. "Last of his family."

He let himself fall back against the command couch's back. There was more chatter on the radio, but he didn't bother trying to parse it. He'd failed. He'd been supposed to die in combat, and somehow that was supposed to fix things for Oberon VI and the War Griffins. He was hazy on the details. But here he was, alive and a captive. Failure.

"Fucking pirates," he mumbled. He reached for the SERE kit, but the effort made him dizzy. He didn't remember anything after that.

[pillow-anime-talk]

soulmates!au with greed.

special ; for @dyingstar-light​ ​: You couldn’t see Greed for next hundred years and still love his perfume, but hate his smirk and eyes.

# tags: scenario; soulmates!au; future!au; flashbacks; kind of romance; drama; a little bit of angst; rather sfw

includes: female reader ft. greed {fmab}

author’s note: I’m a couple of weeks late, but this is for you! Merry Christmas, bestie! 

Year 2143, Nagoya.

The city is teeming with life; people use such sophisticated technology that a hundred years ago they couldn’t even dream of, and most of the things are produced and done by robots or robot-like machines. Japan, as one of the leading inventive countries, expands its knowledge about death, stimulants, healthy eating, physical and mental diseases, new cars and new forms of payment every day (bitcoins are obsolete). It’s 2143, and you’re reading the latest news from the country on your laptop in one of the most popular cafes, and your cake and cup filled with your favorite drink have been delivered by a robot in the shape of an adorable kitten. You stroke his plastic ear, then start eating your dessert slowly.

While browsing through your laptop, which you use for both study, work and entertainment, the door to the cafe opens again and again and the robotic cat greets customers with a cheerful ‘Meow, hello, meow’. At some point, you smell a characteristic scent that in no way resembles the coffee aftertaste of a latte or a fresh, still warm apple pie or oreo pudding. You can sense the distinctive aroma of musk, light vanilla and a hint of spices in the room. Of course, all this was accompanied by the heavy smell of cigarettes and expensive, eight-years-old whiskey. Your eyes immediately left the laptop screen and landed on a man wearing a tight maroon T-shirt and a waistcoat.

You instantly felt the bitterness of the coffee in your mouth (although you had ordered a cappuccino with double foam) and then quickly looked down at the keyboard. Like it or not, the man noticed you right away, as if he’d come here especially for you, even though you both knew it was just a strange, dangerous coincidence.

“Long time no see. How long has it been...?” He started amused and your muscles automatically tensed slightly.

“One hundred and twenty years.” Your low voice echoed between the two of you, and you slowly looked up, watching the dark-haired man’s movements.

“Did you miss me?” He laughed, his right hand sliding his glasses down his nose a bit. “Because I missed you so badly.”

“Not really.”

You and Greed had more in common than just an acquaintance from many, many years ago. You were one of those happy/unhappy people who remembered your every previous life; life as a princess in medieval England, as the daughter of a bakery owner in 1656 in Australia, as a traveler in the 14th century, as a famous writer in 2020 and now as a businesswoman more than a century later. You’ve met Greed at least once in all your lives, and each time he’s looked just as good and just as stupid with that smirk on his face. In each of your lives you have been close to him as his lover, friend or as the object of his sighs. He liked you very much and always tried to get close to you to show you that he had changed this time.

Because after all, he always hurt you whenever he had the chance, and you let him do it, believing his empty promises and dishonest words.

“Are you working or what? Hmmm. I preferred you in that nice bakery outfit. Green color suits you very well.” He said happily as he sat across from you. “Or with that expensive silver pen behind your ear I gave you before your first book was published.”

“... I am currently busy, as you can see.” You started seriously, keeping your eyes on the letters on the laptop screen. “And I do not want to talk to you.”

“Oh, you’re more sassy in this life. I like this.” He said in a more amused tone and you just rolled your both, shiny eyes.

You almost forgot his existence, and now, he’s next to you again. The young-looking male annoyed you like no one else in the world; he was rude to the elderly and children, self-righteous, condescending to working people, snappy, loved to flirt with other women, always borrowed money from you, and always wanted something from you. He was a bad man, but still... something about him always intrigued you and drew you to him.

“... I also have other priorities in this life, a good job and finally someone I’ve always deserved.” You looked out the window and a small smile appeared on your face. “And I don’t want to lose it.”

You quickly packed up your grey laptop and got up from the table, leaving your cake unfinished and your half-drank coffee.

“Honey, we both know we’ll run into each other sooner or later. If not in this life, then in the next. After all... we’re meant for each other, remember?” He chuckled and his hand turned towards you showing a red mark that was identical to yours on the same hand. After a short while, the man looked at the person standing behind the cafe building. Greed immediately noticed the ring on that person’s finger, which was identical to the one on your hand. It seemed like a clumsy attempt to deceive yourself and cover up your true destiny. “But do what you want. See you later, baby.”

Your body stiffened again.

“Just... fuck off.”

Without lying, you both knew that the next meeting would take place in this lifetime... And oddly enough, both of you were looking forward to it.

[queenofcats17]

The Ink Demonth 4

Today is Choice.

This is a snippet from near the end of my very self-indulgent "A Debt Repaid" story. Which I still need to finish writing the first chapter for.

"A Debt Repaid" is a sequel to "A Debt To Pay", which can be found here.

============================================

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Fiona asked as she trailed Audrey down the stairs to Wilson’s lab.

“I…I just want to hear him out,” Audrey replied. “If we don’t like what he has to say, we don’t have to go along with it. But I…I want to hear his plan.”

“Alright…”

The two of them descended further into the lab, surrounded by tubes of what appeared to be vibrantly colored ink. Audrey winced as they passed them, trying not to look.

Eventually, they came to a set of doors splattered in color, which opened automatically upon them approaching. Beyond that there was another set of doors, which also opened as they drew nearer.

And there was the lab. They could see it behind a glass window, sealed off from the little alcove area they now found themselves in with a single hydraulic door.  There were lockers to their left which Fiona had to stop herself from searching, as well as another of the ink wells that Audrey could apparently now travel through.

“Audrey!” Wilson’s voice crackled through the PA system. “You made it. And you brought your little friend. Good! Come inside, my dear! We have much to discuss. But make sure you’re ready. Where we’re going, there will be no return until we’ve accomplished our mission.”

“So, we’re doing this?” Fiona asked, looking at Audrey.

Audrey nodded with grim determination, tightening her grip on her pipe.

Together, the two women stepped into the lab. Wilson stood before them, hunched over a table littered with blueprints and vials of what they assumed were ink. Further into the lab were various machines and pipes and boilers, none of which the women knew the purpose of. Fiona moved a bit closer to Audrey.

“Thank you for coming all this way,” Wilson said, turning to face them.

“I wanted to hear what your plan to destroy the Ink Demon was,” Audrey responded flatly.

Although externally she seemed cold and detached, internally she was terrified. She wanted to believe Wilson was going to fix everything and help her get home, but the words of both Fiona and Sammy had shaken her faith in him. He had brought her here in the first place. She’d just…She’d needed something to believe in. But Wilson might not have been the best choice.

“Of course.” Wilson nodded. “The Ink Demon is a formidable foe. To truly destroy such a monster, he must be dethroned. Humiliated.”

“Are you sure you need to destroy him?” Fiona asked. “I’m sure he could be talked to if you approached it the right way.” Granted, Wilson talking to the Ink Demon probably wouldn’t work, but she and Audrey certainly had a chance.

“Oh, my dear.” Wilson gave her a patronizing smile. “If only all problems could be solved so simply.” He patted her head as one would that of a child, then continued, ignoring the way Fiona’s hands formed into shaking fists. “For months now I’ve been working on something that will do exactly that. Cast out the demon and put a new deity in his place.” He began to walk, leading them to a large cylinder in the back left corner of the lab. “Stronger, more powerful, and controllable. Together, we just need to unleash our ultimate weapon. Come. Let me show you my creation.” He stepped aside as the tube opened, revealing a drawing on an easel.

The drawing was of a cherubic little cartoon boy with blond hair and chubby red cheeks. He was wearing what looked like a sailor’s uniform, standing in front of a blue ocean and a palm tree, with a little crab by his feet. The drawing was labelled “Shipahoy Dudley”.

“Isn’t he beautiful?” Wilson asked. “Simple, but elegant. A treasure. Powerful beyond anyone. The Ink Demon will fall, and we can have peace at last.”

“He is pretty cute,” Fiona begrudgingly conceded.

“It could work…” Audrey admitted. “But it sounds risky,” she added. “How will we control him? We don’t want to repeat Joey’s mistake.”

“Control him?!” Fiona sputtered. “He’s not some kind of puppet for you to jerk around on a string! If you bring him to life, you need to treat him like a human being! That was Joey’s mistake!”

Audrey shot Fiona a warning look. Poking the bear wouldn’t do them any good. They needed to hear Wilson’s full plan. Fiona shrunk a bit under Audrey’s gaze, but she was clearly still extremely upset.

“No. We don’t,” Wilson agreed, completely ignoring Fiona’s outburst. “All of the factors must be perfect.” As he spoke, the tube slid closed, beginning to rotate. “The right design, the right science, and…” The tube slid open again, revealing what appeared to be a person sized chamber. “The right soul.” Suddenly, sawblades appeared from slats in the tube, causing both Audrey and Fiona to stumble back.

“What?” Audrey’s eyes went wide.

“At last, your purpose is revealed, Audrey.” Wilson stepped in front of her. “This is why you’re here! With your soul inside him, my creation will live forever.”

“Stay away from me!” Audrey yelled. “You’re insane!”

“We need to go. We need to go right now.” Fiona tugged on Audrey’s arm, although she was shaking too much to run.

“Come now, Audrey,” Wilson said, voice sickly sweet. “Part of you knew this was your path. Although…” He paused, slowly turning his attention to the panicked Fiona. “If you truly cannot be convinced, perhaps your little friend will do.”

“No! You’re not using either of us!” Audrey snapped, putting herself between Wilson and Fiona.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to use her?” Wilson asked, taking a step toward them. “Think about it. If she provides the soul for my creation, we could rule this place together.”

“I don’t want to rule anything!” Audrey backed away, still placed firmly between Fiona and Wilson.

“Well, then I can send you home.” Wilson shrugged. “You never have to think about this place ever again.”

“I…I thought you said we needed to save your father!” Audrey tried to sound as angry as she had before, but they could all hear how her voice faltered.

Wilson smiled wide. “I lied. My father is beyond hope. Perhaps you know him. Nathan Arch, owner of ArchGate, industrial genius, business tycoon.” As he spoke, his expression soured. “For years, I’ve lived in his reaching shadow. He always had time for the grand creatives of the world, the doers as he called them. He knew only the best! The biggest thinkers! How could his lowly son ever hope to compete with that? But now, thanks to you, I can.”

“Well, that explains a thing or two.” Carmine’s voice came from Fiona’s bag.

Fiona looked on the verge of tears, looking frantically between Audrey and the door.

“What do you say, Audrey?” Wilson asked. “Why not let me use her? After all, you said yourself, she doesn’t understand what you’ve gone through. Wouldn’t you like to teach her a lesson?”

Audrey was silent, genuinely considering Wilson’s proposal. She was so tired of fighting. She was so tired of this awful place. She just wanted to go home.

You could leave this all behind, a small traitorous voice whispered in her mind. Wash your hands of your father’s sins. Move on. She wanted to come here, didn’t she? Let her stay.

Fiona tried to run. She didn’t get very far before Wilson grabbed her wrist and roughly pulled her back.

“Let me go!” Fiona screamed, kicking and attempting to hit Wilson with her free hand. She was starting to cry as she struggled. Wilson held her at arm’s length, keeping her far enough away that she couldn’t reach him with her short arms.

Despite her previous mental turmoil, Audrey knew her choice was clear now. “Leave her alone!” She surged forward, swinging her pipe at Wilson.

Wilson caught her wrist as she swung, halting the pipe’s trajectory. “So, that is your choice,” he said with a smile. He shoved Fiona away, sending her stumbling back to hit her head against the wall and crumple to the ground.

“Let us go!” Audrey tried to hit him with her other hand, but Wilson grabbed that arm and held it too.

“No need to struggle,” he cooed. “My signal prevents you from using those devilish powers of yours…and more importantly, keeps the Ink Demon from getting in. It’s time to die, Audrey…” He began to drag her toward the now whirring saws in the chamber. “And live again…” She tried to struggle against him, but it was no use. He was much stronger than she was. “As a god!”

They were almost at the chamber now. Audrey could hear her heart pounding in her ears. She couldn’t count on Fiona to help her. Not after being shoved into the wall like that. Plus, if Wilson could overpower her, Fiona stood no chance. And it wasn’t like Carmine was going to be any help. He’d already expended a great deal of energy getting them past the Keepers. Audrey had to get free on her own.

Spurred on by adrenaline and desperation, she used her limited mobility to whack the pipe against his head. This did little to stop Wilson from continuing to drag her, but it loosened his grip enough that she was able to get that hand free.

“No!” She ripped her hand away. “Not this time!”

Pulling her arm back, she swung the pipe with all her might, landing a solid enough hit to disorient Wilson and make him let go of her other hand as both of his went up to clutch his head. Not wasting a second, she used to opportunity to push him away. Right into the waiting saws. Wilson screamed. Audrey looked away. The tube slid closed again, a sign behind it lighting up, now reading, “Subject accepted”.

The sweet, metallic scent of blood filled the air.

Fiona let out a small, strangled noise that sounded like something between a sob and a squeak.

“Are you alright?” Audrey asked, turning back to her.

She didn’t want to look at the tube. She couldn’t look at the tube. Killing a human being was so different from killing an ink creature. The ink creatures simply dissolved back to the ink when they died, the only sign they’d ever been there being a small puddle on the ground.

A human remained.

Fiona didn’t answer, still staring at the tube with wide eyes.

“Fiona.” Audrey knelt in front of her, blocking the other woman’s view of the carnage. “Are you alright?”

“I…” Fiona took a shaky breath. “My…My head hurts. But I…I think I’m okay.”

“Good.” Audrey nodded. “We should…We should go.”

She helped Fiona to her feet, gently leading her toward the door that had opened in the back.

[ray-wattson]

Finished a new piece while taking the time to return to introducing more characters, starting with the leader of a team of 6 that's introduced in the second story I'm still writing, Doc.

A scientist, father of Newton, martial artist and swordsman, who's got through a lot but didn't really have a hard time thanks to his intellect. Though, what did most affect him in life was the death of his wife, which happened just on the day his only son was born. At least Newton was barely affected, even though he sometimes wished he met the mother.

As for other things, while working on a simple teleporter in his lab, an accident caused by a lightning during a storm caused the machine to go haywire and teleport him away, getting stranded in an unknown world (said world being Alterra), in an island called Winster Clermart, for 13 years, all those years spent surviving, then forming a team, managing to convince a Magnolian, a Chlorophosian (mushroom-like person), a Mercurian, a mysterious robot and a Phantoid to join him, then getting a mansion built for them to live together, before starting to hunt down wanted criminals of villages nearby for money.

Due to an accident involving an explosion that once happened in his lab, he had to replace his arms and left leg to mechanical limbs, now no longer needing to use gloves while his strength with arms had enhanced. After forming his team, then having a mercurian partner, he managed to get even better equipment, mostly of a very durable steel and a radioactive, otherworldly material, called "Jukralt". His weapon is his reliable energy sword, powered by Jukralt, which causes its energy "blade" to be quite powerful, slicing through almost anything with relative ease. Three of his other equipment involve a pair of modified glasses that can enable night vision and adjust magnification through a few taps on the sides; the second and newest equipment being his Booster Pack, made of that durable steel and Jukralt, which is just like a jetpack with thrusters on the back that can recharge automatically thanks to the energy emitted from the radioactive material; and the third and last equipment being his Power Shoes, which can allow him to run on walls and ceilings with help of their gravity defying ability.

A few years later, he decided to come up with his own company, called AetherTech Labs, promising to bring Alterra, modern technology and electronics (TV's, smartphones, etc) to change the world, since everything seems to work on magic or no electricity at all. He also plans on making eco-friendly energy generators, such as solar towers and wind turbines, for the sake of preserving the environment of this sacred world. And a little fun fact about him, he is a big fan of anime and manga and it's one of the reasons why he became a martial artist and a swordsman. Don't question his tastes.

[xihe1874]

An Icemav one-shot inspired by "Silhouette" (Aquilo).

Let's go out in flames so everyone knows who we are, Cause these city walls never knew that we'd make it this far. We've become echoes, but echoes that faded away. So let's dance like two shadows burning out our glory days.

The devils on your shoulder, strangers in your head. As if you don't remember, as if you can forget. It's only been a moment, it's only been a lifetime. But tonight you're a stranger, or some silhouette.

---- "Silhouette", by Aquilo

————————

Pairing: Iceman/Maverick

Word Count: 1308

Rating: T

Tags: Post-Break Up, Getting Back Together, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hopeful Ending, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, Flashbacks, POV Iceman, Inspired by Music, Past Relationship(s), Sad, Soft, Ex's to Lovers, One Shot, Post-Canon, Post-Movie: Top Gun (1986)

————————

Iceman hates parties and gatherings, especially those that demand his reluctant interaction with the brass. Being the ambitious and promising young Commander he is, Tom Kazansky understands the inevitability of such social events perfectly, but he still loathes them.

He holds the glass of red wine in his hand, swirling it elegantly. The shirt he wears is too tight around the neck, and the tie isn't helping with the situation at all - he already sweats a little under the stuffy material. Despite his callsign, Ice is constantly feeling hot. That's because you are hot, babe. A fond and teasing voice sneaks into his mind from the abyss of memories, sounding eerily like…

No. Ice scolds his brain, no, don't, I am not thinking of him in some Navy balls, for fuck's sake. At least for tonight, let me have some peace of mind without being tangled in my messy past.

You are always thinking, Ice, does your mind ever rest? Is it tired? 

Stop. 

I love how you say "stop", Ice, especially when you are ordering me not to…

NO.

——————————

"So, Commander Kazansky." Vice Admiral Carlson gives him a curt nod. "Your reputation precedes you." Ice raises his glass towards the admiral. "Sir, I hope all you heard are good things." 

"You bet. Flawless service record, marvellous combatting experience, the youngest Commander Navy has ever had… You are a rising star, son."

"Thank you, sir. I am just doing what I can for my country and people." He takes a sip from his glass and lets the liquid slide into his throat. Ice likes red wine, though he is more of a Vodka guy. Beer is OK, too, though Mav loves it much more than…

Stop. Stop, stop, stop.

"You went to Top Gun five years ago and won the trophy?"

Ice struggles out of his stupor and manages to keep his voice even. "Yes, sir."

"Then you must have met Lieutenant Commander Mitchell before."

The following few things all happen in a blur. Carlson stands aside, revealing a short brunette behind him. The said brunette reverts his eyes sharply and makes an awkwardly failed attempt to run away, almost dropping his glass. He puts the glass on a nearby table, squares his shoulders, and turns to face Ice. The emerald eyes are shining brightly in the light like a long-lost dream.

"Commander."

Ice forgets how to breathe. 

Two years. It has been two years since those eyes studied him like that, and two years since he heard the voice. The air around him turns to solid metal and squeezes his body and heart, leaving no place to survive. He suddenly feels he is going to throw up.

"Lieutenant Commander." The words are spoken automatically, like a machine on the verge of breaking down.

Maverick looks exactly the same, with blazing eyes and a rebellious stance, his lips always on the way to forming a smirk. No, stop thinking about his lips. He is in a black suit that wraps around his body perfectly. And his body is a no-no either.

"You two know each other?"

He is staring, Ice realizes distantly, but he can't bring himself to care.

Let's eat out tonight, Ice, I know a nice restaurant; their soft-boiled eggs are perfect, exactly the way you like…

Can I, can I kiss you, Ice? I've always wanted to do that…

Ice, need you, need you, please… 

Let go, Ice, let go, I've got you, I am here, let go for me… That's it, good boy, my darling… 

Mine, mine, you are mine, Ice, mine forever…

"Commander?"

Ice snaps back to reality.

"Yes, sir, we know each other." He answers hoarsely.

————————

"Ice?"

Ice tenses at the sound of the door opening and refuses to look in the mirror. Leave it to Mitchell to follow him to the fucking bathroom at a Navy party.

Ice hears the door lock behind him. He grips the tub basin so tightly that his knuckles turn white. In the last five minutes, Ice has washed his face with freezing water several times, but he can still feel the gaze lingering on his skin. The gaze that is burning on the back of his neck now. 

"So you are into red wine now?"

Ice turns on the faucet to unnecessarily wash his hands and realizes they are trembling slightly. He deliberately avoids the question as well as the pair of eyes.

"Ice." 

Ice, Tom, yes, just like that, fuck, yes, please, please please please — "People change, Maverick." That comes out more bitter and harsh than he originally intended. Ice stares at the paper handkerchief in his hand, glances at the mirror from the corner of his eyes, and vaguely sees Maverick flinching. He winces to himself - they are really not good at this.

After wiping his hands scrupulously, Ice decides that they can't stay like this forever and that it is better to get it over with. So he raises his head and finds Maverick already looking back at him intensely in the mirror. His arms are crossed in front of the chest, a perfect posture of confidence and nonchalance, but Ice knows him too well to ignore the tightness in his shoulders.

"How much?"

Ice frowns. "What?"

"How much have you changed?"

A thousand thoughts run through his head, but Ice settles with a lame "more than you think." He tries to shrug but finds himself too stiff to do that. Maverick's jaw is working, a telling sign that he is worrying his inner lips because he is either nervous and anxious or setting his mind to do something stupid and dangerous. Or both.

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"No, Ice. I think you haven't changed, not a little bit."

A familiar rush of irritation blinds him for a second, and Ice says between clenched teeth, "And who the fuck do you think you are to assume…" His angry words are brought to a halt by a pair of strong arms around his waist.

Maverick is holding him from behind. Clinging and clasping for dear life, more accurately, his right hand gripping the left wrist in front of Ice's stomach like he is afraid Ice will break away. "Ice." His call sign sounds choked, and Ice realizes suddenly that the shorter man is shaking as a leaf. He can almost feel Maverick's warmth soaking his back. 

"Ice."

The blonde closes his eyes.

It's so strange that after two years, he almost forgot why they broke up in the first place. Maybe it started with some stupid and trivial argument - he didn't remember who initiated that - and then evolved into a full-on row. Insults were delivered unnecessarily, and misunderstandings were deepened. Then both believed that the other was accusing this relationship of being detrimental and was regretting it. A door was slammed, and "Bye" was said in not-good ways. They were both too proud and scared to reconcile, as it turned out, until now.

It takes him two minutes to register that Mav is talking. "... ain't care now, Ice, I don't give it a fucking damn. I don't care what they think; I just miss you so much."

So Ice takes Mav's right hand and left wrist into his hands. He hears Mav suck in a breath, because of the touch, probably, or the belief that Ice is going to break free and punch him in the face. But Ice is tired and cold, and Mav is warm. And maybe, as the brunette points out, he hasn't changed a bit. 

He doesn't turn around, just gently stroking the marks on Maverick's wrist that were left because the shorter pilot was digging himself too hard. Maverick's pulse feels solid and intimate, like a long-lost piece to the puzzle that is Ice's life.

"Your fingernails are too long." Ice hears himself saying. "You are gonna hurt yourself."

[k00286712]

artest reserch

gustav metzger

the roots of metzger's artistic inclinations lay partly in the tragedy of his youth. Born to Jewish parents in germany shortly before the rise of adolf hitler, metzger and his brother emigrated to the U.K. in 1939 as refugees in the kindertransport program. His parents — and much of the rest of his family — disappeared in the holocaust by 1943. in the years that followed metzger would often refer to himself as "stateless" or as "escaped Jew,"  

though he began his career as a painter, he turned to more destructive forms in 1959 partly as a means of registering stark dissent. "when I saw the nazis march, I saw machine-like people and the power of the nazi state,". "Auto-destructive art is to do with rejecting power" — and in the process, creating new perspectives. 

take one of his most famous works, for instance: after stretching a sheet of nylon in a frame, he sprayed acid onto this blank surface, allowing the corrosive chemicals to eat away at a material other artists might have adorned with paint. 

he is very inspiring in the work he does, and the meaning behind it. i across his environment liquid crystal environment and loved the colours. it made me want to add some colour to my project.

its is made using heat-sensitive liquid crystals that are placed between glass slides and inserted into projectors. the slides are rotated to create movement within the liquid, and as the crystals are heated and cooled they change colour. the patterns produced within the various slides are then simultaneously projected onto screens around the exhibiting space, all under the control of a computer program.

In 1959, Metzger conceived of what he called ‘auto-destructive art’, whereby works made using machine-manufactured substances would automatically degrade, foregrounding the question of the reliability of these substances and society’s preoccupation with destruction. by 1961, Metzger’s artistic ideas had progressed and a new concept was added to his practice: auto-creative art. metzger became preoccupied with growth as opposed to degradation, and these new works seeking to harness technology, to engineer processes of positive change.

[usafphantom2]

IMAGES: Modernized T-27 aircraft arrives at DCTA

Aircraft will compose a fleet of the Institute of Research and Flight Testing (IPEV), located in São José dos Campos (SP).

Fernando Valduga By Fernando Valduga 09/24/2022 - 3:00 PM in the Brazilian Air Force, Military

The Director General of the Department of Aerospace Science and Technology (DCTA), Lieutenant Air Officer Maurício Augusto Silveira de Medeiros, led, on September 15, the modernized T-27 aircraft (T-27M) from Lagoa Santa (MG) to the Institute of Research and Flight Testing (IPEV), in São José dos Campos (SP).

After landing, firefighters from the Brazilian Airport Infrastructure Company (INFRAERO) welcomed with the traditional baptism bath, which was attended by the Director of the Institute of Development and Industrial Coordination (IFI), Colonel Aviador Luiz Marcelo Terdulino de Brito. Soon after, Lieutenant-Brigadeiro Medeiros passed into the hands of the Director of the IPEV, Colonel Aviador José Ricardo Silva Scarpari, the record book of the plane, to the sound of songs sung by the Music Band and in front of the troop of the Institute, composed of pilots, engineers, mechanics and technicians who have participated in the project since the development of the prototype

The flight represented the delivery of the modernized aircraft, after a synergistic work carried out between the IPEV and the IFI, started in 2020. The Organizations contribute to the process of modernization of the T-27 with tests that evaluate the functionality, performance and reliability of the new systems, which are now presented in Glass Cockpit, based on aeronautical regulations and specialized techniques.

The Glass Cockpit concept made possible, in this aircraft, flights and approaches to landing based on satellite position and performance, that is, more direct and accurate, in addition to sending and receiving information for air traffic control through the Automatic Radiation Dependent Air Surveillance System (ADS-B), which consists of a surveillance technology in which an aircraft determines its position via satellite navigation and transmits it periodically to ground stations

Thus, using the knowledge acquired at the School of Training of Flight Tests (EFEV), IPEV professionals support the improvement of the Brazilian Air Force (FAB), either in the incorporation of new capabilities, or in the improvement of existing ones, contributing to flight safety, as well as to the fulfillment of the institutional mission.

"This modernization of the T-27M contributes to raising the level of the training of our cadets and highlights the high degree of competence of the members of the Lagoa Santa Aeronautical Material Park (PAMALS), IPEV and IFI. It also ratifies the excellence we seek as an institution, providing state-of-the-art equipment, aligned with the demands of the 21st century. In a remarkable way, the T-27M returns to the DCTA, where it was designed and developed to gain a prominent position as an instruction aircraft," said the Director General of the DCTA.

In total, 42 aircraft must be modernized, with the aim of introducing or changing technical and logistical characteristics in the systems or materials in use in Aeronautics, both to update them and to adjust their performance to the specific needs of today.

"At IPEV this magnificent machine also accompanied several generations of pilots and engineers who shared moments of tension and very high workload in the noble mission of forging the crews that today test the modern and newly arrived FAB aircraft, such as the Gripens and the KC-390. T-27M: Welcome to IPEV and DCTA. Know that our connection is prior to your first flight and that we will still have many hours to share together in the immensity of the sky, predicting, forming and testing the Air Force of tomorrow," said the Director of IPEV, Colonel Scarpari.

The T-27 Tucano was born from a FAB need to replace the T-37C, which was used in the advanced instruction of pilot training at the Air Force Academy (AFA). With an advanced design for the time it was developed and with differentiated characteristics for coaches of this type, the Tucano has become a reference in performance and established a new standard. Not by chance, the aircraft was chosen to be used in demonstrations of the Smoke Squadron and, in a short time, became a Brazilian symbol that conquered the world.

Review: DCTA, by Lieutenant Carolina Redlich - Photos: Cabo J. Alves / DCTA

Source: IPEV, by Captain Guilherme

Tags: Military AviationFAB - Brazilian Air ForceT-27 Tucano

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Fernando Valduga

Fernando Valduga

Aviation photographer and pilot since 1992, he has participated in several events and air operations, such as Cruzex, AirVenture, Dayton Airshow and FIDAE. It has works published in specialized aviation magazines in Brazil and abroad. He uses Canon equipment during his photographic work in the world of aviation.

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[hashiakter]

"The Evolving Art and Science of Photography: From Digital Masterpieces"

Photography, often referred to as the art and science of capturing light, has evolved dramatically since its inception in the early 19th century. From its humble beginnings with daguerreotypes to the advanced digital cameras of today, photography has continually expanded the way we perceive and document the world around us.

A Brief History

The journey of photography began with the invention of the daguerreotype in 1839 by Louis Daguerre, which allowed for the first time the creation of permanent images. This early process involved exposing a silver-coated copper plate to light, producing a detailed and unique image. As technology progressed, so did the methods and materials used. In the mid-19th century, the wet plate collodion process introduced glass plates and required immediate development, while the introduction of roll film by George Eastman in 1888 made photography accessible to the masses with the Kodak camera.

The 20th century saw significant advancements with the development of color photography and the shift from film to digital formats. The advent of digital cameras and smartphones has made photography more democratized, allowing nearly everyone to capture high-quality images at any time.

The Art of Photography

Photography is not just a technical process; it is an art form that combines creativity, composition, and emotion. Photographers use a variety of techniques to convey their vision, such as framing, lighting, and perspective. The choice of subject matter, whether it’s a portrait, landscape, or abstract composition, also plays a crucial role in the artistic impact of a photograph.

Composition is one of the fundamental aspects of photography. Techniques such as the rule of thirds, leading lines, and symmetry help guide the viewer’s eye and create a more engaging image. Lighting is another critical element, influencing mood and highlighting textures and details. Natural light, studio lighting, and the interplay of shadows and highlights all contribute to the overall aesthetic of a photograph.

The Science Behind the Lens

While artistic skills are essential, understanding the technical aspects of photography is equally important. Modern cameras come with a myriad of settings that allow photographers to control exposure, aperture, and shutter speed.

Exposure refers to the amount of light that reaches the camera’s sensor or film, affecting the brightness of the image.

Aperture controls the size of the lens opening, which affects the depth of field—the range of distance within a photo that appears sharp.

Shutter Speed determines how long the camera’s shutter remains open, affecting how movement is captured in an image.

Digital sensors have replaced traditional film, offering greater flexibility and immediate feedback. These sensors capture light through millions of tiny cells, each corresponding to different colors, to produce high-resolution images. Advances in sensor technology and image processing software have further enhanced the quality and versatility of digital photography.

The Digital Revolution and Beyond

The rise of digital photography and smartphones has transformed how we capture and share images. Social media platforms and photo-sharing apps allow users to instantly disseminate their photos to a global audience, influencing trends and democratizing photography further.

Moreover, the integration of artificial intelligence and machine learning in photography has introduced features such as automatic scene recognition, advanced image editing tools, and enhanced low-light performance. These innovations continue to push the boundaries of what is possible in both capturing and enhancing images.

Conclusion

Photography remains a powerful medium for both personal expression and professional communication. It bridges the gap between art and science, allowing us to document and interpret our world in meaningful ways. As technology continues to advance, the potential for new creative and technical possibilities in photography is boundless, promising an exciting future for both aspiring and experienced photographers alike. Whether through the lens of a high-end camera or a smartphone, the essence of photography—capturing fleeting moments and turning them into enduring memories—remains timeless.

[seppasolution11]

"From Costs to Sustainability: Why PET is a Game-Changer for Packaging"

As global markets expand, the demand for efficient, cost-effective packaging solutions has skyrocketed. This raises a crucial question: how can industries meet these growing needs while ensuring product safety and sustainability? Enter PET (Polyethylene Terephthalate), a material that is rapidly replacing glass in packaging. Why is PET the ultimate choice for modern packaging, and what are its key benefits? Now let's explore PET's transformational potential and how it will influence packaging going forward.

The Rise of PET: A New Era in Packaging

In recent years, PET has emerged as a game-changer in the packaging industry. But what exactly makes PET stand out from traditional materials like glass? PET is extremely lightweight, durable, and indestructible in contrast to glass.It is a more affordable option for packing food and drinks because of these features.For example, PET’s high barrier properties ensure that products remain fresh longer, which is a significant advantage in the competitive market of packaged goods.

Strength and Durability: PET vs. Glass

When comparing PET to glass, strength and durability are where PET truly shines. Glass, while classic, is heavy and prone to breakage, which can lead to costly losses during transportation. PET, on the other hand, drastically reduces transportation costs due to its lightweight nature. The almost zero breakage rate of PET ensures that products arrive at their destination intact, making it a reliable choice for manufacturers and distributors alike.

Economy of Cost and Adaptability

PET's cost-effectiveness is one of its greatest benefits. PET is not only reasonably priced but also pliable in a broad range of forms and dimensions because of its durability and resilience to chemicals. The product's visual attractiveness is improved by adaptability, which fosters greater creativity in packaging design. PET is also reasonably priced for its production method, which makes it a cost-effective option for packaging requirements involving large volumes.

Environmental Advantages: PET's Recyclability

PET's recyclability is a big plus at a time when environmental sustainability is a major concern. In contrast to glass, which may be recycled but needs a lot of energy to do so, PET is easily recycled into new products. In addition to having zero environmental impact, this 100% recyclable product also satisfies consumer demand for environmentally responsible goods. PET's capacity to be made in a variety of colors and transparency makes it suitable for use in a variety of industries.

SEPPA SOLUTIONS: Leading the Charge in PET Packaging Solutions

For those seeking advanced PET packaging solutions, SEPPA stands at the forefront. SEPPA offers a comprehensive range of PET blowing machines, from semi-automatic to fully automatic models. Whether your needs are for low-speed or high-speed production lines, Seppa equipment caters to various industries, including water, sparkling water, CSD (carbonated soft drinks), juice, milk, beer, liquor, and wine. Seppa Solutions offers full line solutions for PET bottles and jars in addition to PET blowing equipment.

 This includes rinser fillers, cappers, labelers, date and batch coders, shrink/carton packaging equipment, palletizers, and stretch wrappers. Selecting Seppa Solutions means investing in a strong and adaptable packaging solution that satisfies market demands.

Why PET is the Best Option for Contemporary Packaging

To summarize, PET is not only a fad but a revolution in the packaging sector. It is the best option for many different items because of its durability, affordability, adaptability, and environmental advantages. PET plays an increasingly important role in providing effective, sustainable packaging solutions as the world's markets continue to expand. A more efficient and environmentally responsible future is only a few steps away for companies that embrace PET and invest in cutting-edge solutions like those provided by Seppa Solutions.

[gfs-tanks]

Customizable Stainless Steel Tanks for Drinking Water Storage

In the realm of drinking water storage, the demand for durable, reliable, and hygienic solutions is paramount. Stainless steel tanks offer an optimal solution for these needs, combining durability with the flexibility of customizable designs. Shijiazhuang Zhengzhong Technology Co., Ltd is a leading manufacturer specializing in stainless steel bolted tanks, renowned for their exceptional quality and adaptability. Our tanks are designed to meet the rigorous requirements of drinking water storage, ensuring safety and efficiency.

Customizable stainless steel tanks from Shijiazhuang Zhengzhong Technology Co., Ltd offer a superior solution for drinking water storage. Their durability, hygienic properties, and flexible design make them an excellent choice for a variety of applications. With over 30 years of experience, we are committed to providing high-quality, tailored solutions that meet the diverse needs of drinking water storage.

As a leading storage tank manufacturer in China. Center Enamel can provide  Glass-Fused-to-Steel (GFS) tanks, fusion bonded epoxy tanks, stainless steel tanks, galvanized steel tanks and aluminum geodesic dome roofs, Wastewater and Biogas Project Equipments for global customers.

Configuration of Customized Storage Tanks

Storage tanks

Volume

Roofs

Application

Design Requirements

GFS Tanks

SS Tanks

Fusion Bonded Epoxy Tanks

Galvanized Steel Tanks

<1000m³

1000-10000m³

10000-20000m³

20000-25000m³

>25000m³

ADR Roof

GFS Roof

Membrane Roof

FRP Roof

Trough Deck Roof

Wastewater Treatment Project

Drinking Water Project

Municipal Sewage Project

Biogas Project

Fire Water Storage Project

Oil Storage Project

Water Supply & Drainage System

Seismic Design

Wind Resistant Design

Lightning Protection Design

Tank Insulation Design

WasteWater Treatment Project Equipment Supply

Pretreatment Equipment

Resource Utilization System

Sludge Treatment System

Other Equipment

Mechanical Bar Screen

Solid-liquid Separator

Submersible Mixer

Gas Holder

Boiler System

Boost Fan

Biogas Generator

Torch System

Dehydration and Desulfurization Tank

PAM Integration Dosing Device

Screw Sludge Dewatering Machine

Slurry Separation Centrifuge

Sewage Pump

Mud Scraper

Submersible Sewage Pump

Three-phases Separator

Why Stainless Steel for Drinking Water Storage?

Stainless steel tanks are preferred for drinking water storage due to their numerous advantages:

Exceptional Durability and Corrosion Resistance

Stainless steel, available in grades 304 and 316, provides superior durability and corrosion resistance. The high chromium content forms a protective oxide layer, safeguarding the tank from rust and degradation. This ensures that the tank maintains its structural integrity and cleanliness, essential for safe drinking water storage.

Hygienic Properties

Stainless steel is non-reactive and easy to clean, which is crucial for maintaining the hygiene of drinking water. Its smooth, non-porous surface prevents the growth of bacteria and other microorganisms, ensuring the water remains pure and safe.

Customizable Design for Optimal Performance

Shijiazhuang Zhengzhong Technology Co., Ltd offers stainless steel tanks with customizable designs to meet specific drinking water storage needs. Key features include:

Size and Capacity: Our tanks can be customized to various sizes and capacities, from small residential units to large-scale municipal tanks, ensuring the right fit for any application.

Internal Configuration: Options for internal features such as baffles and insulation can be included to enhance water quality and temperature control.

Access Points: Customizable access points, including manholes and inspection ports, facilitate easy maintenance and monitoring.

Auxiliary Equipment: Integration of accessories like filtration systems, level sensors, and automatic cleaning mechanisms can be tailored to improve the efficiency and functionality of the storage system.

Efficient Installation and Maintenance

Stainless steel tanks are delivered as complete kits, including all necessary components and accessories. This modular design simplifies installation, reducing both time and labor costs. Additionally, the tanks are designed for easy maintenance, with features that allow for straightforward inspections and repairs.

Long Lifespan and Cost-Effectiveness

With a lifespan of 30-40 years, stainless steel bolted tanks offer a long-term investment. Their durability minimizes the need for frequent repairs or replacements, resulting in lower overall maintenance costs. This makes them a cost-effective solution for drinking water storage.

Environmental and Sustainability Benefits

Stainless steel is a recyclable material, aligning with sustainability goals. At the end of their operational life, stainless steel tanks can be recycled, reducing environmental impact and supporting eco-friendly practices.

Applications in Drinking Water Storage

Stainless steel bolted tanks are ideal for a range of drinking water storage applications:

Municipal Water Supply: Used to store treated water before distribution, ensuring a reliable supply for communities.

Residential and Commercial Buildings: Provides safe and reliable storage for drinking water in residential and commercial settings.

Industrial Use: Suitable for industrial facilities requiring large volumes of clean water for various processes.

Emergency Water Storage: Ideal for storing emergency water supplies in case of disruptions to regular sources.

Installation and Maintenance

1. Site Preparation:

Ensure the installation site is level, stable, and capable of supporting the tank’s weight. Clear the area of any obstacles and ensure proper drainage.

2. Foundation Construction:

Construct a concrete foundation larger than the tank’s base to provide stable support.

3. Tank Assembly:

Assemble the tank on-site using bolted connections, allowing for quick and efficient construction.

4. Internal Configuration:

Install internal features such as baffles and insulation based on the specific needs of the drinking water system.

5. Roof and Access Points:

Install the top cover and any required access points for maintenance and monitoring.

6. Pipe Connections:

Connect the tank to the relevant pipeline systems for water inflow and outflow.

7. Testing and Acceptance:

Conduct system tests to ensure all components function correctly and comply with relevant standards.

Center Enamel combines the excellent performance of various tanks to provide customers with solutions composed of diverse equipment combinations. This approach allows us to flexibly meet the needs and requirements of different application fields. Throughout the project construction process, the teams at Center Enamel collaborate closely, actively coordinate, and prioritize each step, conducting rigorous checks at every level to ensure the smooth completion of projects.

From being a leader in the Asian GFS tank industry to becoming a diversified environmental equipment smart manufacturer in China, Center Enamel utilizes crucial core technologies to continuously iterate and upgrade equipment in research and development. This drives the sustained high-quality development of the company in the face of new challenges. Leveraging existing brand advantages, technological strengths, and team capabilities, the company will continue to focus on cutting-edge industry technologies. Adhering to a diversified development strategy, Center Enamel aims to elevate environmental business to new heights while jointly creating a beautiful picture of green hills and clear waters.

[knighthelm-aes]

Twisters was a hilarious experience for a lowkey weather nerd

In the first scene a tornado is coming and the female lead is like “don’t go to the overpass, that’s the worst place you can go!” And I was like good this is good messaging. Then they call run to the overpass anyway and 3 of them die.

In case you were wondering, there’s a moving scale as to the types of cover for tornadoes on the road. If you’re in a car, you should first try to drive away from the tornado, turning parallel to the path of the nado. Obviously this is a tornado cashing movie so it’s not the choice they were going to make lol so anyway. If you’re in a car and you can’t escape, but you might be able to get to cover, leave the car. If your car is the only cover left, stay in the car, get as low as possible and cover yourself.

Sheltering in an overpass creates a wind tunnel that will launch any debris at you at like terrifying speed. The wind will be too powerful, you will be sucked out and thrown. Do not do that. People kind of forget that tornadoes aren’t just wind, they’re essentially a huge shredding machine full of dirt, metal, glass, potentially cars and houses. Entire live animals have essentially been cleaned to the bone because of tornadoes. They are very scary.

Like people drove their normal ass cars into tornadoes like 5 times. The cars did get beat up a bit but I was laughing because people have been designing machines to withstand the power of tornadoes for years and uh they have to look like this

I did actually like that there was a team of youtuber weather chasers. They portrayed them as jackasses at first which like, lol, they’re youtubers, but they kind of tone it down a bit more as the movies go on. Amateur weather chasers are actually extremely cool people who do a lot of research and data collecting that is vital to the way tornadoes are measured after the fact and research for preventing disasters. A lot of weather watchers are the first people to call in to local areas that a tornado has formed/touched down, and provide photos/video to local news stations which help people to take the storm seriously. They’re a great community who have tons of respect for each other, and for the victims of tragedies. They don’t just find weather cool, they care about the impact these storms can have and want to help people.

My only criticism to that aspect of the movie was 1) they shouldn’t have had the youtubers playing copyrighted music while they were livestreaming lol and 2) when they snapped to the livestream they could have had a hilarious live comment section

I loved that when we went from new york to the midwest there was immediately a show of 3 people in front of their trucks and they were all wearing flannel. Just a nitpick, if it’s tornado season, the midwestern uniform is jeans and a tshirt of their favorite sports team or classic rock band— you can decide if a character might be the type to cut off the sleeves.

I did also love that both times a tornado hit a town, it was shown that the EMS were on the scene right away. The movie showed the aftermath of what a storm can have on towns which I liked. The characters in the movie went to help people and give out food. That is one thing the Midwest is really good at, when there’s been a disaster or a community in need people just kind of automatically go. The last storm that hit a town near me, the news was actually discouraging people from going later in the night because there were already so many volunteers 🥲

I thought the SOUND of the tornadoes was spot on. They actually do have this awful growl that booms from the sky. The CGI was phenomenal.

I liked that I think a couple town(s? Plural?) were named after notable places where significant tornadic events happened. The last town was El Reno, which is of course where widest tornado ever recorded was. It was 2.6 MILES (4.2km) long!!!! Here’s pics of the monstrosity

I did like that the tornadoes were never shown to last for like forever because they rarely last upwards of 10 minutes.

I also liked that the guy who was threatening to leave a bad yell review got karma killed by the tornado.

Also the nay sayer who was like “9 times out of 10 it’s a false alarm” about the sirens because NO. Sirens go off automatically when there are the right ingredients for a tornado and detect when there is either touchdown in a nearby county, or the potential for one (I can’t remember sorry). The emergency alert systems are not like cautionary notices THEY INDICATE EMERGENCIES

They also got the sound of the sirens good, however, they did NOT get the like… boom? They make very well? Idk like you can feel that shit in your SOUL and I was like hmmm…. Meh… couldve bass boosted the fuck outta that.

I liked that the good guy team of chasers and the bad guy team were equally diverse lmfaooo and i LOVED that the evil bank dude was like an old white guy who was dressed like a 60’s movie cowboy

I also like that the main character essentially had two boyfriends the whole movie? Like the movie wants you to think she’ll go for the youtuber but tbh she had as much if not more onscreen chemistry with the friend from her first chaser team. They both express feelings for her and in the end, they all are on the same team so?????Polyamory!!!!

There were a couple of like “god bless america” scenes but like idk it was bearable. Like it was at a rodeo and unfortunately they are like that.

The country music in this movie however WAS unbearable. It was like the worst kind too. Like yeah I get it most places that’s all they listen too but jeeeeeeez

I DO think some people should NOT be allowed to wear cowboy hats and boots and lots of them were in this movie.

They also had like a random Brit in the movie and I thought it was a good way to introduce the terminology and science into the script. He was also a ninny so I loved him.

Idk. 8/10? The tornado scenes were tense and for the most part they spoke about the terminology and science correctly. Idk about the actual like… possibility of being able to disrupt a tornado because I am just a weather nerd, not even a tornado fan or a meteorologist lol. It’s just a silly movie-ism so like whatever. I thought it was respectful and similar enough to the original while also having a completely new team of ppl who weren’t really related to the first movie. The only recurring character was the Dorothy 4 machine from the first one LOL

On like a purely writing standpoint, was kind of bummed the last tornado event wasn’t like the Dead Man Walking/ multi vortex tornado or a Twinado which I think is more fitting for the Twisters title. They’re also really SCARY too. There was 1 Twinado in the movie but it happened kind of early :/

[cavefilllingcorporation]

The Scrolls, the sheep, and a new situation

It was the start of another workday, and Jannet had headed over to her station. She was… well, she wouldn’t call herself excited, but she was semi-eager to get to her post. After all, with technology like this, who wouldn’t be excited!

You see, today she was processing the doomsday scrolls. The process of processing these was fascinating, and the work was stimulating too, at least more so than carrying gold ingots to a conveyor belt.

Each scroll was brought in a crate at a time, least that an accidental detonation would destroy the rest of the merchandise. (The crew was paid handsomely to watch over this dangerous cargo.) Then the machines would break apart the scroll remotely, safely removing the magic inside, which manifested itself as a sandy/wooly residue. This took the form of some sheep demon being summoned, before the entity started spinning uncontrollably, unraveling itself into sand and wool. The leftovers would then be blown away and sorted automatically, probably using filters and/or suctions. Jannet and the others would then remotely use robotic arms to pick away at the new sand piles to find shining particles of explosive potential. These particles apparently were very special, with a single gram having the explosive power of a nuclear bomb. It would sell for a lot she knew, though she hoped that the Corporation had the care to sell them to reasonable people. Wasn’t her problem though.

The sand leftovers were still useful, even though they had nowhere near the explosive potential as the glowing orbs. Most of the explosive power clumped together, leaving the sand to be mostly inert and safe to handle. This was good, as it allowed for the forging of what was being called: “explosive glass.” When given a major impact, the glass would violently shatter. She wasn’t quite sure what use this had, but it had to have a use somehow. Finally, the new wool was basically steel wool on steroids. It was a perfect fuse, fast lighter, and more.

She was still unnerved by the fact that this came from some sort of demon sheep though… she had to wonder about that.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the bell sounded for lunch, she walked back, just to see Johan heading towards the direction of the bathroom. He clearly needed one, as he was coated in what she could only assume was coal dust.

“So, you got coal duty huh?”

Johan sighed. “Yep. I guess life is like that sometimes. I get to drive the big machine last time while you carry gold, and you get to mess with robot arms while I shovel coal.”

“By the way, where’s Crok?”

“In the infirmary again. There was a mix-up with who was qualified to work with the magical gear and not, and some people who weren’t qualified were assigned to deal with the ranged weapons.”

“Oh no! Did anybody get- ok, somebody got hurt obviously, but was it bad?”

“No deaths thankfully, though they got banged up quite badly. I’m sure some higher up is going to face a demotion.”

“Well, if anybody is going to patch them up, its Crok. Still though, it’s a shame that he’s not here. Anybody would be excited to see their work pay off. At least I know I would.”

“Not so sure about that. He was muttering to himself about stuff, and didn’t really look very happy. I also think he said something about something not being right with the warping eyes, though he wouldn’t elaborate.”

Right, those. The work was less involved than dealing with the doomsday scrolls, that was for sure. Instead of maintaining their warping properties, they seemed to use their magic to multiply into crystal balls, some form of purple magic ooze, and radioactive dust. The dust was sucked and condensed into rods, the ooze was drained and collected, and the orbs were collected, cleaned, and sold to whatever wizard or fortune teller would want them. Maybe they had magical properties? She wouldn’t know.

“Hmm… well, I guess we’ll just have to ask him when he gets out. In the meantime, I’m going to go get some food. You go ahead and get cleaned up.”

With that, the two parted ways, ready to refresh and get back to work.

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The Lieutenant of Arms was frustrated. She looked at the recent catalog of the items that were able to be absenced, and then looked at her computer containing the catalog of the items they had when they left the Solar Isles. Not good. After confirming what she suspected and hoped wasn’t the case, she then picked up the phone.

“Hello? Yes, get me in contact with the board. We may have a problem on our hands.”