#Building Inspection Technology

[thermoeliteinc]

The Benefits of Infrared Inspection for Your Property

Based on Thermoelite’s KnowledgeLet’s face it: property ownership is a big responsibility. Regardless of whether it’s your home, office, or an investment property, you certainly don’t want to be surprised by issues hidden to the naked eye. This is where infrared inspection comes in—and at Thermoelite, we want to make infrared inspection available, proactive, and meaningful to you.I know what you’re saying: “what is infrared inspection, and so what?” Good question; let’s clear that up.What is Infrared Inspection?Infrared inspection is simply a non-invasive diagnostic process that uses thermal imaging cameras to evaluate temperature differences in a structure. Sound complicated? It is! But here is the kicker: it is very efficient. Thermal imaging cameras are able to “see” thermal patterns that are not visible, meaning that you could have issues below the surface that are causing you problems, sometimes in the form of moisture intrusion, electrical issues, thermal or vapor leakage, insufficient insulation, or even pests, the point is that all of these events can occur without peeling away your walls or both. At Thermoelite, we pride ourselves on preventive and diagnosis the issues before they present themselves. I prefer to think of an inspection as a health check-up for your property. The issue may be invisible, but that doesn’t imply it is not there. Water damage or electrical damage can take a long time to manifest and even longer to repair once they are visible.

Why Infrared Inspections are a Game ChangerThis is why more and more homeowners and business owners are choosing Thermoelite for infrared inspections:

Detect Moisture without DamageWater damage can be tricky. Chances are, by the time you see the stains or feel the dampness, the problem has already been going on for weeks, if not months. With infrared inspection, we can find moisture behind walls, ceilings or floors before there are any visible indications.This results in being ahead of any problems, including mold. Nobody wants to deal with mold, because it can be expensive, ugly and a health risk. Thermoelite will find the source of the problem early and save you the headache (and wallet headache) later.2. Pinpoint Insulation Gaps or Air LeaksHave you ever thought your energy bills were higher than they should be? It could be from missing insulation or air leaks. An infrared inspection will help to find energy inefficiencies that you cannot see with your eyes alone.Whether it is breaking insulation in your attic, or air coming through improperly sealed windows, Thermoelite will find it in seconds and demonstrate how to improve energy efficiency and save you money long term.3. Prevent Electrical FiresElectrical systems can heat without ever triggering an alarm.

Why Select Thermoelite?Let's be honest- 

there are numerous companies that offer thermal imaging. At Thermoelite, we believe in going the extra mile. Our team is comprised of certified professionals who not only know how to run the newest infrared cameras but can also interpret the data and give you practical solutions.We don't just show you a heat map and leave. We will explain the meaning of the findings, what to do next, and even how to mitigate future problems. And as for the report? It's clear, thorough, and easy to understand.We have worked with homeowners, real estate investors, insurance companies, restoration experts, and commercial clients throughout the region. Whether it's a small residential project or a large commercial facility, we consistently apply the same care, precision, and professionalism.When Should a Property Owner Get an Infrared Inspection?Great question! You do not have to wait until there is a problem. Here are some ideal times to book an infrared inspection:Prior to purchasing a new propertyAfter a flood, leak, or stormIf you hypothesize mold or moisture that is not visibleAs part of regular preventative maintenanceIf you experience a sudden spike in your energy bill prior to budget adjustmentsFollowing renovations, to

DiscussIf you've never done an infrared inspection,

 it may sound like a luxury. But, in actuality, an infrared inspection is one of the smartest, most cost-effective choices available for your property.At Thermoelite, we make getting an inspection simple, affordable, and relaxing. You don't have to be an expert on building science, we will guide you through all areas, including: where to access information, your questions to ask, and full confidence in interpreting the results of the infrared inspection.Are you ready to schedule an inspection? Do you wonder if infrared could help you? Contact us—we are looking forward to speaking with you. At Thermoelite, we care about you and your peace of mind is our most important value.

[ifieldsmart]

Construction Inspection Software is a transformative tool that empowers construction teams to streamline the inspection process, improve communication, and enhance project outcomes. With its advanced features, mobile accessibility, and seamless collaboration capabilities, Construction Software is indispensable for modern construction projects. As the construction industry continues to evolve, Construction inspection Software will play an increasingly vital role in ensuring the success and sustainability of construction projects worldwide. Embrace the power of Construction Field Inspection Software and unlock the full potential of your construction quality assurance efforts.

Visit :  www.ifieldsmart.com/inspections

[keferon]

My hands are shaky and my head is refusing to work properly! But! I made it!

The Blurr chapter for Mecha au >:D

Blurr's job is not to fight for humanity.

Blurr's job is to smile for the camera and take the applause of people who praise him for his bravery and sacrifice. Blurr's job is to sell his face, his voice and his skills to millions of viewers. He must impress investors, show off advanced technology and make a determined face saying that to save mankind he is ready for anything. And then get in a luxury car and drive off to some expensive place to burn a whole bunch of zeros out of his paycheck.

He's not someone who stays after work to help his coworkers. And he's not the one who spends his nights trying to save as many people as possible. He signs autographs, makes big statements, and promises people he'll protect them.

And people believe him.

And they love him.

Swerve is sick of this spectacle. Swerve is sick of this man.

Under the cut

————————————

Nobody likes Blurr.

Okay, if you think on a large scale, everyone loooves Blurr. His face is on every poster, his brand is in every possible store, his voice and is in every cool commercial. You literally can't exist without knowing who Blurr is, or at least seeing his face once. It's a “Luke I'm your father” level phenomenon. How massive a rock do you have to live under to miss something like that?

Everybody loves Blurr. You can go buy a t-shirt with his face on it. You can go listen to his interviews or purchase a tiny replica of his action figure. There are incredibly many ways a Blurr fan can blow a hole in their budget.

Swerve knows, because he's done it many times. And recently, it's stopped being something he's proud of. To be precise, it was exactly four days ago when Blurr first stepped into his office. Swerve had just finished his shift and was finishing his tea when his boss suddenly appeared in the doorway, with the best racer in the world right behind him.

The tea was instantly dropped, adrenaline was released, and the brain was turned off.

In that moment, Swerve thought that this is what it must look like. The moment when all your good karma comes together in one pile to reward you for all the times you dropped a sandwich butter side down or missed a deadline.

Both of which happened with annoying regularity. Swerve is unlucky. Sometimes things seem to fall through his hands.

It started out great.

Swindle, their boss, showed up in the office space one day looking simultaneously jubilant, nervous, and very inspired. Usually on such occasions, Swerve could almost see the dollar signs reflected in his boss's glasses.

“Attention everyone. We have an important guest arriving in an hour.”

Swindle expressively pushed his glasses down on his nose and looked around the room

“I promised him a tour and I expect you all to behave yourselves.”

He meticulously looks around the floor beneath his feet

“Send someone to clean up all the trash. This place is unbelievably filthy. The floors should be sparkling in twenty minutes! And, oh! Hey you, go buy some good drinks.”

Having finished inspecting the floor Swindle hurriedly runs off, probably to say the same thing to the neighboring department.

Swerve stretches his neck out curiously, listening in

“Is the president coming to see us?”

Walking by, Jazz shrugs

“When the president was coming Swindle said the floor was dirty and made him wear boot covers.”

It's not the president

Swindle gestures generously to the entire office at once and looks overall like a bird trying his best to primp up

“And here we have the engineering department offices. In the next building is the assembly plant, that's where the mechs are put on their feet so to speak. And this is where all the computing, design, and planning happens.”

Just over his shoulder stands and looks around at none other than

Oh, dear God.

Swerve's tea flies to the floor next to his thought processes.

He's seen Blurr countless times, but never in person. How can this guy look as good in person as he does in expensive retouched-until-squeaky-clean photos? Mystery.

Blurr's gaze slides lazily over the simple office setting and for those two seconds when it's directed at Swerve it feels like sheer madness. He tries to look normal. He's not sure he's succeeding, but he's making an effort.

Swindle waltzes through the office, heading for the next door

“Come on I'll show you the mech hangar.”

Blurr grins.

“A highlight of the show I suppose~”

His voice is like a needle bursting a ball of stunned silence. People begin to rise from their seats and scramble to say hello. Someone asks for an autograph, others ask for a bunch of selfies, a couple people in the corner hastily fix their hair, one of the employees just pulls out his phone and shamelessly starts filming.

Swindle looks at the this with an unchanging commercial smile, but his gaze promises all kinds of punishment.

Perhaps if it had been the president, the buffoonery would have been smaller.

______________

For the next few days, Blurr is the big news and the center of all discussion.

Officially? He's becoming one of the pilots in the Mecha program.

In fact? Swindle's greedy soul couldn't get enough of the idea that the Mech concept could be monetized.

The dust is blown off Blurr and his boots are licked. He doesn't go to general training, he doesn't participate in ordinary or overly dangerous missions. He's allowed everything and a little more. His job is to look pretty on camera, speak his lines, smile and wink. He's a walking advertisement and Swindle's incredibly powerful tool in negotiating with investors.

Swerve once saw him called to a negotiation in the middle of the night, and even sleep-deprived and exhausted after a full day of filming, Blurr had the strength to pull that charming expression on his face and flawlessly play along with Swindle wherever he needed to.

His mech was a work of art. And that's not even an exaggeration. Usually the main purpose of mechs is to be efficient and practical. Blurr's Mech was made separately and so many people worked on its design that it could have its own end credits. It's beautiful, sleek, shiny and show-offy. It's designed to be awe-inspiring, but not so decorated that it's ridiculous.

When Swerve looks at its specs, he almost feels sick. Maneuverability, mobility, everything is absolutely top-notch. But most importantly, speed.

The technology to accelerate Mechs to incredible speeds has been around for some time, but the average robot doesn't reach even half of the technically possible maximum. Because even the fastest machine can't outrun the human brain.

After a certain threshold, pilots are no longer capable of controlling their own Mech. Human reaction speed is simply not enough to maneuver without crashing into anything or losing their orientation in space. And. Well. Without losing consciousness.

This has led to Mech manufacturers sort of tacitly agreeing on a rough speed limit and tending to stick to it. Just to make the technology safer and more suitable for everyone.

Regardless. Everyone except Blurr apparently.

Because the numbers across from his Mech's speed specs are horrifying. Swerve looks at the blueprints and thinks it's either freaking awesome or absolute suicide. Maybe something in between. Can a human being have reflexes like that? What about this turning mechanism? The numbers tell him that these levels of g-force make a large percentage of pilots just pass out.

Is Blurr really going to pilot this death wagon??

To achieve that kind of speed and mobility, they'd have to cut off half the armor or make it very light. Which would almost be like inviting a dangerous injury.

But if the Mech is made primarily to flaunt rather than fight...well... it probably makes sense.

Swerve's inner fan is sliding down the wall.

Blurr is incredible. And what's even more incredible is that he's kind of sort of almost Swerve's coworker now.

It only takes him a couple days to realize.

Everyone loves Blurr.

But the one who loves Blurr the most is Blurr himself.

The rose-tinted glasses are breaking slowly but surely. On the first day, Sverve walks up on shaky legs to get introduced. He tells himself that this is definitely not an attempt to get an autograph. They're coworkers. He's just...uh...greeting a new employee.

Blurr looks slightly bored.

“You're from this department....uh.. What's its name, whatever.”

Swerve clutches his hands in front of him so he doesn't accidentally drop anything

“OH.Uh yeah. Swerve! Engineering Department. You were there on a tour the other day. I usually work in the assembly plant, making armor for Mechs, developing new alloys. But I design too! I, uh.

(Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. He'll think you're a crazy fan. Don't talk about Blurr.)

Blurr starts to get sidetracked by his phone.

Swerve swallows awkwardly.

“I'm uh. I'm a big fan of yours. Sir.”

(Good job...)

Blurr chuckles softly and offers out his hand

“Well, nice to meet you.”

Sverve's hand is shaking like crazy, he hopes he isn't squeezing too hard. Working in the assembly has made his hands rough. Blurr's narrow, soft palm is almost sinking in his grip.

“ 'Nice to meet you, yes. Nice to meet you sir! If you, ah, if you have any problems or questions or uh, well. You know, if you need help with your Mech or upgrades or or.”

Blurr chuckles.

“I'll be counting on you~”

Swerve feels like his soul is about to break away from his body.

The next, day when they cross paths in the hallway Blurr waves to him.

“Hey you. Whatever your name is. Can you tell me how to get to Block D?

Swerve stops awkwardly.

“Ah. Of course! I'm Swerve sir. Come, I'll show you.”

Blurr smiles a beautiful, ad-libbed smile and follows him in

“Thank you darling.”

From this point on, the entire program gradually learns a simple but unpleasant truth.

Blurr is an asshole.

And nobody likes him.

He always has everyone at his beck and call. You rarely get to see him on his own. There's always someone swirling around him with a guilty or annoyed face. A sort of serve-get-show-explain designated poor guy.

Swindle treats Blurr like a precious antique vase.

Blurr treats people like his servants.

The whole world is in love with the glittering cover, the image polished to a squeak. Until recently, Swerve was doing the same thing. Now it feels more like an embarrassing crush.

Blurr still doesn't remember his name. He actually remembers at most three to four people by name, and calls everyone else “hey you” or “ darling”. After Swerve reintroduced himself to him for the fourth time he just sort of...stopped trying.

On the field, Blurr is incredible. No one can deny that. The tremendous speed of his Mech leaves all the other pilots in the dust. Whoever said human reflexes weren't fast enough? HA. When Swerve sees his reports and results, he gets dizzy.

The combination of such incredible speeds and light armor means Blurr simply can't miss. If he hesitates, if he falters. If he gets confused. The whole metal thing will smash him to smithereens.

And yet Blurr comes back untouched time after time.

Swerve's no longer inclined to think it's just because of his mad skills. He knows that Swindle is paying Blurr a lot of money for his cooperation. No one would let Blurr fight on the front lines, no. It would be too dangerous. He has to do just enough so that Swindle can record a commercial and in it call Blurr a badass pilot without adding small print to that statement.

Blurr's job is not to fight for humanity.

Blurr's job is to smile for the camera and take the applause of people who praise him for his bravery and sacrifice. Blurr's job is to sell his face, his voice and his skills to millions of viewers. He must impress investors, show off advanced technology and make a determined face saying that to save mankind he is ready for anything. And then get in a luxury car and drive off to some expensive place to burn a whole bunch of zeros out of his paycheck.

He's not someone who stays after work to help his coworkers. And he's not the one who spends his nights trying to save as many people as possible. But he is the first person every citizen would name if asked to say something about the Mech program. He signs autographs, makes big statements, and promises people he'll protect them.

And people believe him.

And they love him.

A month later, he still can't remember anyone's names and sometimes calls people by the colors of their clothes, laughing as if they should take it as a cute joke.

Swerve is sick of this spectacle. Swerve is sick of this man.

That's okay.

It's not like fanboying over Blurr is Swerve's only passion.

He gets upset.

Then he gets mad and rips down all the posters.

Then he has no time to be angry because Swindle wants to launch Mechs into outer space and damn it, Jazz flies off the planet and doesn't fucking come back. The engineering department stays up nights trying to figure out where he's gone, but they can't.

Unlike Blurr, everybody loved Jazz.

Unlike Blurr, Jazz deserved every ounce of that love.

The ground beneath his feet is starting to shake.

At first, all that happens is panic. Everyone starts making a confused noise, someone assumes an earthquake.

A voice on the speakers says that everyone needs to evacuate immediately, but no one hears it because huge mechanical tentacles start coming through the windows and the whole building starts shaking, creaking and crumbling.

Sverve has seen the monsters humanity has to fight many times. But never this close. And their size leaves him absolutely terrified. These things are huge, they take up all visible space. And what's most damning is that they can break down the walls around Swerve like a fucking cookie.

He's gonna die. Oh god he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die here under this stupid rubble or get eaten or turned into one of the ugly bloody stains on the wall. His heart is doing a million beats a minute and his eyes are starting to sting. He tries to get to the emergency exit, but the door is blocked by one of the huge toothy creatures that is actively trying to get in.

Next to him, Swindle is shouting to someone on his comm, trying to sound louder than the rumble of the collapsing building and the hungry aliens.

The floor tilts at a very disturbing angle and Swerve grabs one of the interior doorways to stay in place. A second later, he reaches out and pulls Swindle, who has already slowly begun to slip toward the monster's huge hungry maw, to the same doorway.

Swindle grabs onto the frame of the door and Swerve at the same time. His glasses are cracked and his usually neat expensive coat is all dust and debris.

“It was a trap.”

Swerve can't hear a word over the grinding of breaking structures.

“What?”

Swindle almost slips and falls, but Swerve grabs him by the scruff of his coat and puts him back on his feet. Working in an assembly shop gives a man strong arms and right now he's very grateful for it.

Swindle makes a second, louder attempt

“It was a trap!!! All available pilots are now on the other side of the country! I've called for backup, but who knows how fast they'll get here.”

A smooth, silky voice comes from a walkie-talkie strapped to his coat.

“Ouch Swindle. So little faith in my professional skills?”

Swindle rounds his eyes

“Blurr??! Where are you!”

Blurr's voice sounds...not quite as it usually does. It's missing the habitual lazy note. The one that makes him sound like the whole world owes him money.

“Give me another minute and the answer will be 'here'.”

The building shakes again. Swindle swears so eloquently that Swerve can't help but admire it.

Swerve can't stand Blurr's smug face, but when he spots the first glimpse of blue metal in the window, joy floods his brain.

He usually associates Blurr with dumb nicknames, dismissive treatment, and commercials.

Now he watches the sleek, fast Mech lunge fearlessly at the monsters surrounding the building and thinks that. Fuck this. He's an asshole, but if he buys Swerve enough time to evacuate, he'll bring him a thank you card or something later. Though it's unlikely Blurr will care about that of course.

Swindle continues to shout instructions over the walkie-talkie. Swerve basically drags him outside by. He jumps up probably a full meter when very near him one of the monsters falls to the ground.

Blurr's Mech stands proudly on top of the fresh corpse and looks...actually really bad. Swerve knows that this particular robot was not built for rough, open confrontation. Its armor is too thin. Designed for speed and agility, not strength. He assembled it himself, after all.

Many of the plates are crumpled. Some are torn off. His legs are intact, but one of the joints sparks funny.

Blurr quickly looks around and Swerve unwittingly follows his example. The whole place is on fire. Office buildings are in ruins and a huge column of black smoke rises above the assembly plant.

Blurr's Mech drops to the ground and gets down on one knee. The plates on its chest are pulled aside and Blurr sticks his head out of the cockpit while simultaneously opening the visor on his helmet.

“Everyone okay?”

Swindle clutches the walkie-talkie

“The office areas are empty, but there still could be people left on the lower floors of the assembly plant. But we have no access there!”

Blurr drums his fingers quickly on the metal plate

“Fire?”

Swindle shrugs his dusty shoulders

“Something exploded at the bottom of the building. It's a real smelter down there.

Even if we send a Mech, it won't last more than a minute before it overheats. Or make the building collapse.”

Blurr's gaze becomes focused. Sharp. Swerve has seen that look many times on tough front line fighters like Jazz. On Blurr, never.

“'That's enough time for me.”

Swindle waves his hands

“Are you crazy?”

Blurr slaps his palm against the armor of his Mech

“This baby is light. Lighter than anything you've got! If anyone can do it without dropping the building, it's me. They make Mechs in the assembly hall, it's got high ceilings right?”

Swerve wants to snap. He wants to throw his hands up angrily and yell something along the lines of “you were literally there!”

Who else is down there on those lower floors??? Tailgate? Maybe Wheeljack? If something exploded, Wheeljack was definitely there. And probably closest to the explosion.

Swindle curses furiously, but retreats and runs off to give orders to someone else.

“”Be a hero if you want, but I'm not going in there. For all I know there could be melting metal in there instead of a floor! It's just not reasonable.”

Swerve's brain stumbles over that statement. Why...Swindle is acting like he's being forced to climb into that building too...?

Blurr looks nervous.

“You know what. Fine. I got it. Hey, you--”

And there it is. The good old namelesness.

Blurr pays no attention to Swerve's frowning face, nor his hands shaking with fear

“ You're familiar with those buildings. You know who was there and where to find them right? I need you to walk me through.”

Swerve feels the urge to snap again and this time doesn't hold it back

“If you cared about something other than yourself, you'd know this damn building and the people who work in it too and !”

“I don't fucking remember!” Blurr interrupts him.

Swerve doesn't have time to put anything in after that. Though a sarcastic comment is begging to be made.

Blurr quickly takes off his helmet and wipes the sweat off his forehead.

“I don't remember okay! This isn't a fad or posing or whatever else you think of me. This is what an accident can do to you if you miss a turn! I can't remember shit, okay?! Do you need a medical report?!”

Swerve just...stands there with his mouth open and probably looks like an idiot.

Blurr nervously tucks back his disheveled hair. The longer he talks, the faster he does it.

“Now. I know you don't want to die in a pit of fire. But I need your help to save them. Don't do anything, just take the map. I promise I won't let you die.”

He sounds determined. And holds out his hand to Swerve, silently inviting him to climb up onto the Mech.

His face is stained in sticky dust, his hair is an absolute mess, and his narrow palm is covered in streaks of soot. It's as if he's been dragged face down a muddy road.

He's. Very Handsome, Swerve thinks.

He takes his hand.

Blurr helps him up, pushes him into the space next to the pilot's seat, and closes the cockpit.

“Been inside a working Mech ever?”

Swerve clenches his hands nervously on the back of the seat

“No.”

The lights of the consoles around him come to life as Blurr puts on his helmet. The space around him hums. It's a strange noise. At once unsettling and calm.

Mech feels alive, he thinks. Then corrects himself. Blurr is mind-linked to this Mech. This Mech can technically be considered alive in a sense.

Blurr moves one of the monitors toward him and opens the map.

“Just mark the path here. Don't touch anything else. And hold on tight. I won't be going too fast anyway, but it'll be shaky.”

Swerve swallows nervously.

“Understood.”

After that, everything turns into motion. Watching the Mech work while being inside is mesmerizing.

Blurr doesn't say much, concentrating on the controls. His hands aren't shaking anymore, Swerve notices. Not even a little.

He steers the machine forward confidently and smoothly, dodging falling debris and avoiding the biggest pockets of fire without panic or hesitation.

He's also strictly following the path Swerve is laying out for him.

The air filtration system is doing well so far. Swerve can feel the smell of burning and the heat slowly creeping up, but it's bearable for now. For now.

They find a man on the nearside of the emergency exit.

Two more people a floor below. A small group stuck in the elevator.

Wheeljack's on the doorstep of his lab.

Blurr pulls them all out. Picks up the first group of people and carries them outside, goes back into the fiery furnace, finds more survivors, pulls them out, goes back, searches, rescues, goes back, searches, rescues.

The heat is coming up. Swerve can feel it. The plates around him are getting hot. The air smells like burnt wires.

Blurr’s Mech wasn't designed for this kind of thing.

His Mech was made to flash for the camera and accelerate to impossible speeds. To deceive and confuse the enemy. Its armor is thin and cools easily in the air, which usually helps it avoid overheating.

This also means that this Mech heats up very quickly as well.

Now, with the air around him feeling like a red-hot frying pan, Swerve regrets not saying anything back then. He regrets that he didn't make any changes to the blueprint.

More and more warnings pop up on the screens. The map stopped working correctly some time ago and Swerve is forced to give directions verbally.

He nervously grips the back of the pilot seat with one hand and, without noticing, Blurr's shoulder with the other.

Blurr carries two more people outside and hands them to the rescuers. Then turns back to the building again and. OH FUCK. Right in front of him, a huge crack begins to creep along the structure. This thing is on the verge of collapse. The roof is already starting to fold down in a very bad way.

Swerve clenches his grip fearfully and hears Blurr hiss through his teeth.

Suddenly, the cockpit opens. The fresh air of the street feels like a cold sledgehammer blow after the heat and stuffiness of the lower levels.

Swerve is about to ask something, but doesn't have time because Blurr uses Mech's hand to gently but quickly pull him outside and set him on the ground.

“You were going to mark another spot.”

Swerve nods hurriedly.

“Tailgate is still there.”

Blurr wrinkles his face.

Swerve corrects himself and clarifies

“Bright blue uniform. Short. Considering all the places we've been, I think he's in the staff quarters. It's...”

He chews his fingers, trying to remember numbers and directions without a map

“...two floors down, left, another floor down and straight ahead.”

As he speaks Blurr bends over the side of the open cockpit and spits...blood on the ground. His nose is bleeding, Swerve realizes. That's not good. It's a clear sign of a malfunctioning neural connection. Or damage to his respiratory system? Possibly both.

Blurr doesn't seem to notice his worried look

“Two down, left down then. Shit. Wait. Two down, left then down, straight ahead yeah?”

Swerve nods.

Blurr keeps repeating these directions like a mantra. A very fast and creepy mantra.

His gaze roams strangely and his breaths sound hoarse. His teeth and chin are covered in blood and his face is streaked with soot.

Swerve understands. He's about to do another go.

Two down, left, down, straight. Two down, left, down, straight. Two down, left, down, straight.

Alone. He's going, and he's going to fry himself alive in there for a stranger he doesn't even remember.

Swerve doesn't have time to say anything. What's he gonna say? Stop? But he wants to save Tailgate? Go on, I believe in you? But it's certain death.

Swerve rarely has nothing to say, but this time he can't find the right words.

Blurr wipes the blood with his sleeve, wrinkles his nose, and storms off, heading back into the flaming mess the plant has become.

Not twenty seconds later, the roof collapses, spewing a huge cloud of smoke, ash, and fire into the sky.

Swerve wrinkles his shirt nervously in his hands.

The walls are still in place, right? If the roof is gone but the walls are still standing it's... it's. It's.

Damn it. He's trying to remember the blueprints. It means the ejector will work. It means Blurr can still get out through the top. That--

Blurr's not getting out. As the small, bright blue escape pod appears above the falling walls of the building, Swerve feels his brain stop. Remember the blueprints, remember the damn blueprints. The Mech is light, the design is compact, the space in the pod is for only one person.

In the capsule lies an unconscious Tailgate.

Swindle grasps the radio

“Blurr? BLURR!”

Swerve looks at the smoke and ash and feels numb. He doesn't want to be here anymore. He has to know. He doesn't...

He feels weird. The same kind of weird as when objects fly seemingly through him. Everything just stops being real.

The thought comes out of nowhere. You don't have to obey the rules. You can see more. Just look.

He's not sure how or why he's doing it.

No one around him is paying much attention to him. Everyone's busy with survivors and damage assessment or just stunned by the chaos.

And him? He disappears.

And then he appears at the bottom. Under the rubble.

All around him is ugly, molten and red-hot chaos, but he doesn't care anymore. He feels like whatever is happening is about to end and he just has to be in time. Time for him to find out.

Blurr's Mech lies crushed by the fallen roof. Its cockpit is open. A gaping hole where his chest was, the place where the escape pod had undocked.

Wall debris has pinned him in a crooked, grotesque pose.

Blurr is here. His legs are wedged between crumpled metal plates inside the cockpit, leaving him hanging upside down. His suit is charred. Half of his face is destroyed. It looks like a horrible bloody and burned mess. It's ugly and gruesome.

Blurr opens his only working eye and gives Swerve a cloudy look.

“I must be seeing things...”

Swerve shrugs in daze. He knows he shouldn't be here.

Blurr spits up a mouthful of blood

“I'm sorry I hurt you uh...”

“Swerve.”

“Yes. Swerve. It's hard for me to remember things unless they're...akgh...hell... not in my face all the time.”

Swerve moves closer and frowns

“You know, that explains but doesn't excuse you.”

Blurr closes his eye and coughs. That sounds really bad.

“No...I guess not.”

He huffs off the blood again. The burned half of his face is oozing with it. The blood runs down his forehead, collecting in a small puddle on the floor.

“It was better than letting everyone know what's wrong with me. I can't even begin to think about the amount of messes I'd be dragged into.”

Swerve notes that the fire seems to be getting closer.

This whole bit of dialog is so unnatural. Who even talks about that kind of stuff before they die. On the other hand. Well. Character development?

“So you think it's better to have everyone assume you're a jerk than that you got your head screwed on?”

Blurr wrinkles his nose.

“ You're a very specific kind of ghost.”

Swerve shoves his hands in his pockets and looks away

“I needed to know. Before you die.”

“That's ...akghhh...ha....it's good to know. Can you tell me something Swerve? As..agh...

As a last wish?”

Swerve shrugs again. He stares at the dripping blood. At the ugly, bubbling burns. At the burst vessels in his eye and the paths of blood from his bleeding nose. He looks at the broken and scorched and dying bloody mess.

He looks at Blurr.

And he thinks, until today, he didn't really love Blurr. Not with the posters and figurines. Not with the disdain and dislike.

He loved an image. And hated an image.

He reaches out and tries to touch Blurr's hand, but goes through it.

“I'm sorry. But we're both not really here. And I have to go.”

He can feel the cold metal around him, which is strange because he's standing in the middle of smoking and burning ruins

“But if it makes you happy, I guess you're my favorite character after all.”

Blurr doesn't answer. Swerve isn't sure he even heard him.

The feeling of metal around him grows sharper.

Someone shines a flashlight in his face.

Swerve blinks stupidly and tries to move away.

The unknown Autobot medic standing over him smiles happily and puts the flashlight away

“Welcome back. You've been in a coma Primus knows how long.”

The other medic to the side frowns

“You have zero tact.”

Swerve blinks his optics puzzled, raises his servo and for a while just stares at it like some movie character. All around him is an Autobot medbay. Metal walls. Metal instruments. And him. Metal.

Yes. Seems so. That's the way he's always been. That's right.

“Doc, you won't believe what kind of weird dream I had.”

___________

Swerve feels like he's going crazy.

He's standing in the middle of a hallway on one of the Autobot ships, and he's staring. shamelessly.

There's Prowl standing at the end of the hallway. And on his shoulder is...

“ JAZZ????”

Both bot and human turn around abruptly at his scream. And both look equally puzzled.

Jazz waves his hand

“Do I know you?”

Swerve is definitely going crazy. It's Jazz. The same one. From his...dream??? But he's real and tangible??? Sitting on Prowl's shoulder, talking and breathing and being seen by everyone not only Swerve????

“You're...real...?”

Jazz raises his eyebrows

“I am. Yes. Really Mech, you sound very familiar.

But I can tell you for a fact that I have not been friends with any Cybertronians before...”

This can't be, this can't be, this isn't....

It was a dream. The spawn of his TV series-addled mind. A hallucination. It wasn't real. It wasn't, was it?

But Jazz is here. And he disappeared from Earth. And now he's here.

And.

What the..

Swerve blurts out something like “sorry-sorry-see-you-later-now-I've got to go” and runs off.

“HEY DOC????”

The autobot, already familiar to him, flinches

“Primus...Swerve? Is something wrong?”

Swerve realizes that everything is about to either make sense or lose it completely.

“Tell me...is it possible to project a holoform...like...very far away?”

The Doctor tilts his head.

“Depends on power consumption. If you channel all the energy available in a frame, you can go very far. But that would send you into a...coma...if you...tried...Swerve, is there anything you'd like to tell me?”

“Doc do you know where Earth is?”

“Wha...no?”

Swerve chuckles nervously and bites his knuckles.

“I don't either. But I think I've been there...”

[inkybyl]

Everybody Gangsta till they gotta take their lil sister to nursery

I’m super ill so I finished some old sketches of a Modern/Gang Family type AU I still wanna flesh out 🫶

Lowkey wanna waffle about the ideas real quick in case I don’t draw them

Below is big brother Wrecker and lil brother Tech I love them.

Basically I had this idea that Hunter (as the eldest) has been looking after Wrecker and his younger twin brothers Tech & Crosshair. Still trying to figure out a way to make this work, but one day their dad, Jango Fett turns up at their door with another pair of toddler twins in his arms, Boba & Omega, and asks Hunter if he can take his new little sister in.

I have a concept dialogue so I’ll just throw it in here 🤣

~

“And you’ve come all this way just to tell me you’ve got more kids?” Hunter gruffed, leaning on the doorframe with a displeased look on his face while crossing his arms. Jango sighed, running a hand through his curly locks, “I know this isn’t ideal. But- I don’t know where she’d be safest.”

Hunter tilted his head as he stared down at his blonde toddler sister, “Us? You’re just going to dump her on us?” He questioned, feeling his heart rate increase in a flurry of different emotions.

Jango stared down at his daughter with a solemn look, closing his eyes as he took in a deep breath, gently squeezing Boba’s hand, “Hunter- there’s no time to explain-“, “No time to explain. Right. Plenty of time to make us and move on like we’re just not here until it’s convenient, apparently.”

Jango stared down at his son, his skull tattoo on full display as Hunter refused to break eye contact. He didn’t have the energy to fight. “… Please…”

Hunter’s head recoiled in shock at the gentle tone in his voice, staring back down at his little sister who kept fiddling with her long-sleeved shirt. “Her name is Omega. She’s a curious one so keep an eye out for that. Where I’m going… it’s no place for her… she needs a family that will look out for her.” He muttered, swallowing in an attempt to moisten his throat. Hunter looked up at his father, his eyes flicking to the floor, “… Why not Rex… or Cody? She’ll be safer with them.” Hunter whispered, turning his head away. Jango shook his subtly, running his hand over Omega’s soft hair, “Just look after her, yeah?” He grumbled, his tough personality returning bit by bit as he realised the tears forming in his eyes.

~

So yeah!

In terms of Wrecker - he was only a couple years younger than Hunter so he could help out with looking after the twins, Crosshair and Tech. I have a headcanon that Wrecker was incredibly skilled/knowledgable with technology, weapons and electronics, and while Tech was growing up he had a natural talent for those things, but still needed teaching.

Wrecker would teach Tech different skills like building things from scratch, how to disarm or arm a weapon/explosive, etc etc. In terms of this AU, I’m thinking that Tech desperately wanted to impress his older brother by showing him how much he’s learnt from him, but he got a bit ahead of himself.

~

“Wrecker! You’re back! Come, look at what I’ve built!” Tech joyously exclaimed, pulling his taller brother’s arm through to their garden. Wrecker, back from a work out, was finishing the rest of his drink as he chuckled softly at his little brother’s excitement. “Alright, alright - I’m right behind you.” He playfully shook his head as he ducked out of the way of the doorframe, walking down the steps as Tech sprinted to the other end of their common.

“Stay there, Wrecker! Take a seat on the steps!” Tech ordered with a massive smile, “I know you’re going to love this!”

Wrecker smiled and took a seat on the wooden steps with an audible ‘creak’. “Ooh, am I going to see some fireworks?” Wrecker called over to Tech, squinting to try and see what he was bringing out. Tech pulled out his newest contraption, modelled to look like something Wrecker had tinkered with previously. Wrecker couldn’t inspect the handiwork in detail from where he was sitting, something he would usually like to do before Tech would test his newest experiments.

Tech smiled at his device, it appeared to be a form of firework launcher, possibly to assist the velocity the devices could travel at and reach higher altitudes. He knew how much his older brother loved explosions of different varieties, watching the beautiful combustion of chemicals mix in a stunning array of colours, sound and temperatures.

He ran back and forth to assemble all the remaining parts, grabbing some fireworks along the way, lining them up in his contraption. “I have created a far greater firework launcher, if this works we can create our own larger versions, and if they get launched with enough altitude, the massive blasts will not affect our sight or hearing! We will be able to appreciate the massive blasts by creating a safe distance!” He rambled with a giddy smile, showing Wrecker one of the fireworks from where he was standing.

Wrecker smiled genuinely, but dropped slightly as his gut twisted in discomfort. Something was wrong. “That sounds awesome, Tech. Let me take a look at it before you start pointing that around,” he chuckled, hoping to sound as casual as possible, placing his hand on his knee as he slowly stood up. Tech waved his hands, “No, no, no! I’ve got this!” He cheered, lining up a larger-than-normal firework into his device, he probably custom made it, too.

Wrecker’s stomach began to churn, his voice slipping to the big brother tone, “Tech, let me see it,” he said, beginning to walk over to his younger brother. Tech’s face dropped in disappointment, brows furrowing as he looked down at the creation, before flicking his eyes back to Wrecker. “Wait, Wrecker! I can show you- i-it works! I promise! Look!” Without thinking, Tech activated the device, the fuse being lit instantly as he stepped back to watch it fizzle and crack. Wrecker’s ears could pick up on the irregular sounds of the firework’s fuse burning away, not liking the way Tech’s device groaned and whined in an eerie way.

Wrecker’s pace increased, “Tech, get behind me will ya?” His voice was raised, outstretching his arm towards him with his palm open, “Now.” He could see Tech’s brain start to take everything in all at once, the upset expression on his face, and his hands desperately trying to shake out the tension that’s hit him instantly. The sounds of his experiment started to grow louder and more unstable, the modified firework on the verge of blasting off. “Wrecker- I promise! This one will work! I’ll be able to show you! I’ll—“

Wrecker’s body moved all by itself - barrelling himself towards Tech in one strong push of his heartbeat. The contraption reacted with the firework, the combination of the chemicals and elements combining in a dangerous combustion. Wrecker managed to move Tech before any shrapnel could reach him, shielding him from the blast by his hip, holding him with a bruising-tight grip. Wrecker’s adrenaline was kicked into overdrive, only feeling the pressure and heat from the explosion on the left side of his face and shoulder.

Tech was frozen underneath his brother’s hold, covering his ears while trying to control his breathing before a panic attack could ensue, his brain rattling with multiple thoughts and words whizzing through his head - almost screaming at himself. Time must have gone by because he could hear Wrecker’s laboured breaths, shakily turning his head to stare up at his elder brother. His eyes widened at the blood drops that splattered on his cheeks and goggles, unable to take a breath in at Wrecker’s marred flesh. “W-Wrecker..?”

Wrecker’s eyes were dark and lifeless, not even able to blink as his eyes would twitch up into his eyelids instead. The blast had charred and burned all of the left side of his head, the smell of his skin made bile rise up to Tech’s throat as he could see how the metal shrapnel must have sliced across his nose, eye brow and lips. Wrecker began rocking slightly, his laboured breaths slowing down as he stared down at his little brother. “What.. what’s with you…?” He grunted out, completely unaware to the extent of his injuries, only being able to focus on Tech’s horrified expression before his vision went completely black.

~

Had these written out and thought I’d share! Very early concept stages ofc, but I love playing with these ideas. After the blast, Wrecker’s ability with his previous interests had dropped significantly apart from his knowledge about weapons and demolitions - and I think after an explosion to the side of your head would alter your physical mental being, possibly keeping him at his juvenile state of mind as he grows up.

But yeah! 💫 if you read all of this, thank you so much! 🫶✨

[aspenmissing]

hellohello!! i hope your doing well, and i just wanna say im a HUGE fan of your work, especially your arcane oneshots!!

I was wondering if you could write oneshots for arcane characters dating a socialite!reader? for most of my life, my dad has been a popular businessman and entrepreneur with a lot of influence in my area, and I often attend social gatherings and parties with him to build connections with well-known people, which has led me to have a reputation of being my fathers daughter at every event.

i love to see all the different characters you write for, but i especially love the way you write jayce and viktor!! i can imagine a scenario where jayce asks the reader for help and tips for talking to investors once hextech is about to be/was released to the public and wnjsbjdbbfk

if you do choose to write this, thank you so much!! make sure your taking breaks and getting plenty of rest ❤️

ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇʟɪᴛᴇ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴍᴇʟ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ || 6877 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɴᴏɴᴇ?

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ʜᴇʟʟᴏᴏᴏᴏᴏᴏ! ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴋᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ᴡᴇʟʟ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴍʏ ᴅᴀʏ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ!! ɪ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇ ɪᴛ ꜱᴏᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ!! ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜɪꜱ!!! <3 <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ��ᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴍᴇʟ

JAYCE

It was a bright morning in Piltover, the kind where the sun's rays pierced through the towering spires of the city and reflected off the newly polished streets. The air was filled with anticipation, not just for the day ahead but for what was about to unfold—the public release of Hextech, a revolution Jayce had dreamed of for years. But as much as he had poured his heart and soul into the creation of this groundbreaking technology, there was something weighing heavily on him.

As the inventor leaned over his desk, carefully inspecting the designs for the Hextech prototype, he sighed. It wasn’t the invention that bothered him, nor the mechanics behind it. It was the next step—the investors. Hextech would change everything, and the financial support needed to make it a reality on a global scale was crucial.

That’s when he heard the soft click of heels on the stone floor of his workshop.

“Still lost in thought, Jayce?” a teasing voice echoed, warm and confident. Y/N, his beloved, strode in with the poise of someone born into the highest circles of society. As a socialite, she had mastered the art of public relations, charming everyone from the wealthy elite to the diplomats with a mere smile. And though her upbringing might have seemed like a world away from Jayce's scientific endeavors, their bond was undeniable.

Jayce glanced up, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You’re a sight for sore eyes. I think I’m going to need your help more than I thought.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, setting her delicate gloves aside and walking closer to his workstation. “Help? With what? You’re the genius here.”

He sighed again, rubbing his temple. “Well, that’s the thing. I’ve created Hextech, but now it’s time to present it to the investors. It’s not just about the technology. It’s about selling them on the vision, making them believe in it—making them believe in me. I know the science, but... I’m not exactly a charmer when it comes to high society. I need tips, advice, someone who knows how to get their attention.”

Y/N’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “So, you want the socialite’s guide to winning over Piltover’s elite?”

Jayce hesitated, but then nodded. “Exactly. I’ve read the books, but I’m not sure I can pull it off without you.”

Y/N’s confidence was a calm anchor in the midst of Jayce’s whirlwind of nerves. She walked around to his side, placing a hand on his shoulder, offering a comforting touch. “Don’t worry. You’ve got this. But let’s break it down.”

She paused, making sure she had his full attention before continuing. “The first thing is to walk in there with confidence. You’ve built something monumental, and they need to know that. Don’t just show them the device—show them your passion for it. The moment you stop believing in it, they’ll stop believing in it.”

Jayce straightened up, nodding. “I can do that.”

“Good,” she said with a playful glint in her eye. “Now, remember, they’re not just buying a product. They’re buying into you as the inventor. The way you present yourself, the way you speak, it all matters. So, get rid of the technical jargon. They’re not looking for someone to speak in equations. You need to be persuasive, not confusing.”

Jayce chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s definitely something I’ll need to work on.”

Y/N smiled knowingly. “I’ll help with that, too. Focus on the future. Talk about how Hextech will change the world—their world. How it will open new avenues of profit, how it will secure Piltover’s place in history. But never forget to make them feel like they’re part of it. Everyone loves to feel included.”

Jayce felt a sense of reassurance wash over him as she spoke. She had an uncanny way of making the seemingly insurmountable seem achievable.

“And one last thing,” Y/N added with a wink. “Dress the part. When you walk into that room, make them see you not just as a scientist, but as someone with vision, someone who belongs in their world. You can’t just be a man of inventions—you have to be a man of influence, too.”

Jayce’s eyes softened with appreciation as he looked at her. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Y/N tilted her head, giving him a playful smirk. “You’d probably fumble through it and still somehow manage to charm them. But lucky for you, I’m here to help.”

Jayce chuckled, stepping closer to her. “Maybe I do need a little bit of luck.”

“You’ve got more than luck on your side, Jayce,” she said, her gaze softening. “You’ve got your talent, your vision, and... well, you’ve got me.”

And with that, they stood together in the workshop, surrounded by the hum of the Hextech prototypes, ready to face the challenges ahead, knowing that with each other’s support, they could conquer anything—even the boardrooms of Piltover’s most powerful investors.

=

The night before the big presentation, Y/N had one more idea to help Jayce. She knew how overwhelming it could be to stand before a room full of powerful people and try to sell not only an invention but a dream. So, she pulled out her personal stationery and carefully crafted a set of flashcards, each one containing key points she had drilled into his head that day: confidence, vision, inclusivity.

Each card had a simple, elegant note on it—just enough to jog his memory. She even added a few motivational words like “You’ve got this!” or “This is your future!” with a small sketch of a Hextech device on the back. Her handwriting was immaculate, the neat, flowing strokes giving him the comfort he needed in times of doubt. When she handed the stack to him, her eyes softened with affection.

“I’m going to make sure you’re ready,” Y/N said with a smile. “Use these if you need them. But I know you’ll do just fine without them.”

Jayce stared at the stack, the simple act of her preparing these cards made his heart swell. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

Y/N shrugged, a playful gleam in her eye. “You don’t need to. Just come back to me with success in your hands, and we’ll have more than enough to celebrate.”

VIKTOR

The room was alight with the clinking of glasses, the soft murmur of conversations, and the elegant waltz of socialites in the grand hall. Y/N, with her presence marked by the subtle yet undeniable confidence that came from growing up in the heart of high society, was the shining star of the gathering. She glided through the crowd effortlessly, a vision in her gown as her laughter rang like chimes in the air.

But amidst the sea of people, there was one constant that stood by her side—Viktor. He leaned on his cane, the polished metal clicking softly against the marble floor as he walked beside her, his usually stern and thoughtful expression softened by the comfort of her presence. Viktor had never been one for crowds, preferring the quiet solace of his work, but when it came to Y/N, he didn’t mind these gatherings as much. Her gentle smile and the way she quietly brought warmth to him in the midst of a bustling world made it bearable. But still, Viktor’s discomfort was evident in the subtle stiffness of his posture, the way his eyes kept darting to the exit as if ready to leave at any moment.

“You know, you don’t have to stand so stiffly,” Y/N murmured, noticing the tension in his frame. She gently nudged his side with her elbow, flashing him a reassuring smile. “I know these events aren’t exactly your cup of tea, but... it’s not so bad, right?”

Viktor gave her a small, tight-lipped smile, though his gaze remained fixed ahead, scanning the crowd. “It’s not the event. It’s... the crowd,” he admitted quietly. “I’m more used to the solitude of my work. This is... overwhelming.”

Y/N’s eyes softened with understanding, but a playful spark lit up in them as she grasped his arm a little tighter, guiding him through the crowd. “Well, you’re in luck,” she said brightly, her voice carrying just enough enthusiasm to pull him from his thoughts. “Because I’m about to give you an insider’s tour of this gathering. You might find some of these people a bit... amusing.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward. “Amusing?”

“Oh, absolutely,” she replied, her smile wide and mischievous. “For instance, you see Lord Gresham’s wife over there?” She gestured discreetly across the room. “She’s convinced her husband is secretly a war hero. The man attended a battle once, but only for an hour, and he didn’t even get close to the front lines.”

Viktor’s lips quirked up into a slight smirk. “How... inspiring,” he said dryly, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. “I take it she hasn’t learned the truth yet?”

“Of course not,” Y/N whispered, her voice full of mischief. “He tells her the same stories every year, and she believes him each time. It’s honestly impressive how long he’s been able to keep up the ruse.”

Viktor chuckled quietly, the tension in his shoulders beginning to ease. She had a way of making the absurdities of this world sound so light-hearted, so funny, that it made even the most uncomfortable of moments seem bearable. As they continued walking, she leaned in just a little closer, her voice low enough to keep their conversation private.

“And over there,” she nodded towards another figure, “you see Lady Lila? The one in the pale blue gown? She’s the woman who insists that no one should ever wear the color blue because it 'steals the soul from the eyes.' She told me that the first time I wore a sapphire dress to one of these events. Can you imagine?”

Viktor’s lips twitched, the rarest of smiles forming at the absurdity of it all. He glanced at Lady Lila, a serious-looking woman with an exaggerated air of refinement, and then back at Y/N, whose eyes sparkled with the mischief of knowing such peculiar details.

“And here I thought the blue of the sky and the sea stole souls,” he remarked dryly, his voice carrying a faint warmth that only she could bring out in him.

Y/N laughed softly, her fingers gently tapping his arm as she guided him through the crowd with newfound ease. “You’d be surprised. She’s very serious about it. And there’s more—Lady Montclair, the one over by the window? She once asked me if my earrings would predict the future. Her exact words were, 'Will they reveal how your evening will unfold?' Like they were some sort of mystical artifact.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking to Y/N’s simple yet elegant diamond earrings, then back at her, his amusement barely contained. “And what did you tell her? That they were more interested in the present than the future?”

Y/N’s lips curved into a sly grin. “Exactly. I told her that these little gems are more concerned with the sparkle of the moment than with making any grand predictions about the night.” She gave a small laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. “Sometimes, I think people here would believe anything if you say it with enough conviction.”

Viktor couldn’t help but laugh at that, a low, quiet sound that was genuine and free of his usual restraint. His grip on his cane had relaxed slightly, and the stiffness in his posture was no longer as noticeable. He was starting to enjoy himself, despite his natural aversion to these gatherings. Perhaps, he thought, it wasn’t so bad, especially when Y/N was by his side.

“Do you make a habit of learning all of these little... secrets?” Viktor asked, his voice softer now, filled with a touch of wonder.

Y/N smiled brightly, her eyes sparkling as she shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh, I’ve had years to observe and pick up on them. It’s practically a skill at this point. You’d be amazed how many oddities exist beneath all the polished façades of these people.”

“I’m sure I would,” Viktor replied, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

They paused for a moment near the edge of the ballroom, watching the others as they mingled and danced. The noise of the gathering seemed to fade, the murmur of voices and clinking glasses becoming distant as Y/N turned to Viktor, her expression softening.

“I’m really glad you’re here with me,” she said quietly, her voice sincere. “I know you’d probably prefer the quiet of your lab or the comfort of solitude, but... it means a lot that you’re here, standing in this sea of people just for me.”

Viktor’s gaze softened, his blue eyes meeting hers with an intensity that only grew stronger with every passing moment they spent together. His voice was low and warm when he spoke. “I’m here because you’re here, Y/N. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with affection. In that moment, the entire room seemed to fade away. It was just the two of them—her with her bright smile and sparkling eyes, and him, the brilliant but often misunderstood man, wrapped in their own world of quiet humor and shared moments.

She looped her arm through his, resting her shoulder lightly against his. “Well, I’m glad, because I’m never letting you go.”

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and soothing. “And I wouldn’t want you to.”

With Viktor by her side, the noise of the gathering, the strange and absurd people, and the weight of her family’s expectations faded into the background. For her, the evening was already perfect. And for Viktor, it was no longer a room full of strangers—it was a night spent with the one person who could turn a world of noise into a place of peace.

JAYVIK

It was an evening draped in elegance, with chandeliers casting their golden glow upon the extravagant ballroom. The air was filled with the soft murmurs of high society—an endless sea of tailored suits, silk dresses, and the subtle clink of fine glassware. This was the world Y/N had known for most of her life, yet it always felt like a cage. Her parents, as ever, had dragged her here tonight with the same tired excuse: to meet the right people, to build connections, to secure her future. They’d never seen her as anything but an extension of their own social ladder, a tool to climb higher.

She stood at the edge of the room, trying her best to blend into the crowd of strangers, her mother already deep in conversation with a group of important figures. Y/N had been introduced as nothing more than "Mr. ___ daughter"—her name scarcely mentioned. It was always like that. It stung every time, but she had long learned to swallow her bitterness and play the role of the perfect daughter.

=

It had been hours since the gala began, and Y/N was already exhausted. Every moment seemed to blur into the next as her father pulled her from one conversation to the next. Each time, it was the same. A well-placed compliment about her family's wealth, a brief mention of her accomplishments—none of it felt real. None of it felt like her. Her mother, too, had taken the opportunity to introduce her to all the right people, each person a potential business partner or connection. Y/N felt like a puppet on a string, her every move directed by the expectations of others. There was no space for her to breathe, no room to escape.

The whispers of "Mr. ___ daughter" followed her like a shadow. Her name was never spoken. She was a tool, a symbol of their success, nothing more.

As her father dragged her yet again to another conversation, Y/N could feel her patience wearing thin. Her smile was starting to feel strained, her energy ebbing away like the fading echoes of the orchestra’s soft lullaby. She excused herself with a polite, practiced smile and tried to slip away from the crowd. The ballroom seemed to close in around her, and the weight of the evening’s obligations made her feel smaller and smaller. Her thoughts were a swirling mess of frustration and resignation. She didn’t want to be here, caught in a world where she was a mere pawn in her family's social game.

But then, she felt a hand on her arm—light but firm—and turned to find Viktor standing beside her. His gaze was steady, the ever-present calmness of his demeanor a sharp contrast to the chaotic whirlwind of the gala. His eyes, always perceptive, took in the subtle signs of her exhaustion.

"Are you all right?" Viktor asked quietly, his voice soft but cutting through the noise of the room like a lifeline.

She let out a small, tired laugh. "I’m fine, just... a little tired of being 'Mr. ___ daughter.'" She gave him a knowing glance, grateful for his understanding.

Before Viktor could respond, the sharp, confident voice of Jayce cut through the hum of conversation. "I think our dear Y/N is in need of a break." Jayce’s easy smile appeared as he slid in next to her, his presence offering a certain lightness amidst the suffocating formality of the event. "What do you say we make our own escape?"

Y/N’s heart felt a flutter of relief at the thought. Jayce’s smile always made her feel at ease, a sharp contrast to the cold, calculated world she often found herself trapped in. She looked between him and Viktor, silently thankful that they knew exactly how she was feeling without needing to say a word.

Before she could say anything, Jayce turned, his eyes locking onto her father, who had been scanning the room, no doubt looking for his next opportunity. With the same casual charm he always exuded, Jayce made his way over to Mr. ___.

"Ah, Mr. ___!" Jayce greeted him with a broad grin. "I hope the evening has been treating you well. I was just telling your daughter how wonderful it’s been to catch up with her." He paused for effect, giving Mr. ___ a slight wink. "But I think it’s time we ‘borrow’ her for a bit, if you don’t mind. She’s been such a delightful guest, and I’d love to give her a little more... personal attention for the rest of the evening."

Mr. ___ , caught slightly off guard, blinked for a moment before his expression softened into one of polite acceptance. He nodded, too accustomed to Jayce’s charisma to put up much of a fight. "Well, of course. I suppose I can spare her for a little while longer, Mr. Talis" He gave Y/N a knowing smile, one that carried the silent message of don’t be too long before he turned back to his next conversation.

Y/N suppressed a sigh of relief. She gave Jayce a grateful smile as he turned back to her.

"Shall we?" Jayce said, his voice filled with a lightness that felt like the first breath of fresh air. He placed his hand gently at the small of her back, guiding her away from the crowd. Viktor, already a step ahead, led the way, his eyes meeting hers with that familiar, understanding gaze. She felt herself relax as they walked away from the chaos, the weight of the evening slowly lifting.

=

They moved through the ballroom, dodging the glances and murmurs of people who seemed far too interested in who was with whom and what they were doing. But all of that faded away as they found a quiet alcove, tucked far from the noise and the expectations. The lights here were dimmer, the atmosphere far more intimate, and for the first time that night, Y/N felt like she could breathe.

Viktor stood close to her, the air between them calm and filled with understanding. "Better?" he asked softly, his hand brushing against hers in a quiet gesture of reassurance.

"Much better," she replied, her voice filled with gratitude. The weight of the evening’s obligations seemed to melt away as she sank into the comfort of their company.

Jayce leaned casually against the wall, his smile never fading. "I think that’s enough ‘business’ for tonight, don’t you? You don’t have to be anyone but yourself here, Y/N."

Viktor nodded in agreement, his gaze soft but unwavering. "You don’t owe anyone anything. Not here. Not now."

Y/N’s heart swelled with warmth. She had spent so long being shaped by the expectations of her family and society, trying to fit into the mold of Mr. ___ daughter, but here, with Viktor and Jayce, she didn’t need to pretend. There were no titles to live up to. There was just Y/N.

"I think I might just be the happiest I’ve been all night," she said, her voice sincere as she looked at the two of them.

Viktor offered her a small, rare smile, one that warmed her from the inside. "Then let’s make sure the rest of this night is about you."

Jayce grinned mischievously. "And if we happen to stir up a little chaos? All the better."

Y/N laughed, the sound light and genuine, free of any strain. For the first time in hours, she felt like herself. There were no expectations. No weighty legacy. Just the two people who truly understood her, who saw her for who she really was, not just the name she carried.

With Viktor and Jayce by her side, she was no longer just Mr. ___ daughter. She was Y/N.

As they stayed in the alcove, Y/N felt time slow down, the world outside muffled by the intimate, quiet space they’d created together. No longer confined to the duties of her family's expectations, she found herself finally able to think for herself, to laugh without hesitation. Tonight was for her—no performances, no obligations. Just the freedom to exist as she was, with the people who accepted her without the need for approval. And for once, that felt like everything.

VANDER

The city of Zaun was a place of contradictions—dark alleys where deals were made in the shadows, and bright, polished surfaces that hinted at wealth and power. Among the elite who resided above, far from the grime of the undercity, there was Y/N. A socialite, a name whispered in high society, known for both her charm and the influence she wielded. She moved through the glittering circles of wealth and power like a dancer, graceful and calculated, never too far from the pulse of Zaun’s more dangerous undercurrents. Her world was Piltover—a world of high society, fine art, grand estates, and people who looked down their noses at the undercity, the very place where her heart secretly resided.

Y/N had connections that most would kill for, and while the gleaming streets of Piltover offered their own kind of thrill, it was the chaos, the vibrancy, and the raw energy of Zaun that always called to her. It was in the undercity that she found something more real, more untamed. And it was there, in the spaces between the glittering lights and the darkness, that she met Vander.

Vander was different from the men of her world. Rugged, imposing, yet carrying an unspoken kindness beneath the hardened exterior of a man who had lived a life fighting for survival. While Y/N had her connections, Vander had his street-fighting roots, his loyalty to the children of the undercity, and an honor that ran deeper than any riches or titles.

Vander’s fight was always one of survival, of keeping his family safe in a world that was determined to leave them in the dust. He’d built something in the undercity—something that meant more to him than anything else. It was his people, the kids, and the promise he’d made to protect them. And when the tension between Vander’s crew and the Enforcers escalated, it was only a matter of time before violence would erupt.

But Y/N had never been one to shy away from danger. She knew Grayson, after all. Grayson, the woman who ruled the Enforcers with a sharp mind and an even sharper edge. She wasn’t the kind of person Y/N would cross unless she was certain of her ground. Thankfully, Y/N knew how to play the game better than anyone. Her relationships with Piltover’s elite, her ability to manipulate the right strings in the right ears, made her invaluable.

The tension between Vander’s crew and the Enforcers had been rising, and the last thing the city needed was another bloodbath. So, Y/N did what she did best—she made a deal.

=

Y/N arranged a meeting with Grayson, in the polished boardrooms far above the grime of the streets. She’d crossed paths with her many times before, her dealings with Grayson always keeping a delicate balance. Both women were aware of the power they held in different ways, but Y/N knew how to speak Grayson’s language—power, control, and profit. In Grayson’s eyes, Y/N was no different from the powerful elite of Piltover, and perhaps that’s why she was able to broker such a deal.

It wasn’t easy, but Y/N knew the price. She’d asked for the one thing that would keep Vander’s streets safe—Grayson’s agreement to hold her Enforcers back from Vander’s turf in exchange for a subtle understanding: Vander would keep his operations on the up-and-up, pay his dues, and avoid creating any more headaches for the Enforcers. It was a delicate negotiation, but Y/N had made it work.

Before Y/N left Grayson’s office, she made sure to slip in a few more words for good measure. “You know Marcus is getting a little too bold lately,” she said, eyes narrowing with a glimmer of humor. “I’d suggest knocking him down a few pegs, or you might find him a little too comfortable in your shadow. You might want to remind him who calls the shots here.”

Grayson’s icy demeanor faltered for the briefest of moments, and Y/N caught the faintest flash of approval in her eyes. Grayson didn’t let many people speak to her that way—but Y/N knew how to push the right buttons.

By the time Y/N returned to Vander, her deal was sealed, and Grayson was bound by her word. It was strange, working with someone like Grayson, but in a city where power played its own dangerous game, sometimes alliances were necessary. Y/N had gotten what she needed, and more importantly, she’d kept Vander—and his ragtag group of kids—safe.

=

As Y/N entered the small bar where Vander had made his home, the warmth of the place felt like a contrast to the cold elegance of Piltover’s high halls. It was a space carved from the undercity’s heart, a place where Vander had built not just a safe haven, but a family. When his eyes caught hers, they softened, the harshness of the world outside slipping away. Y/N had kept her promise, and in the way he looked at her, she could see the gratitude, the respect, and something deeper that had grown over time.

“You did it, didn’t you?” Vander’s voice was low, but there was a warmth in it that made her chest tighten. His usual gruffness softened as he walked toward her, the tension of the last few days seemingly vanishing in an instant.

Y/N smiled, her heart racing as she walked into his embrace. "I made sure Grayson would keep her Enforcers off your streets, and in return, you would do the same. The deal’s done."

His rough fingers brushed against the back of her hand, a tender gesture that betrayed his usual tough exterior. "I don’t know how you do it," he murmured, leaning closer. “But I’m grateful. We owe you more than we can ever repay.”

There was something in his eyes then—something Y/N hadn’t seen before. A look that said more than words could ever convey. Without thinking, she closed the distance between them both and kissed him. The kiss was soft, tentative, but it spoke volumes about everything that had been growing between them. They weren’t just allies, they weren’t just partners—they were more than that. They shared a bond forged not only through deals and whispered promises but through a shared understanding of what it meant to fight for something—someone—worth protecting.

Vander’s arms wrapped around her, his warmth enveloping her as he pulled her closer. "You’re not just a pretty face in Piltover’s high circles, Y/N," he murmured against her ear, his breath warm and comforting. “You’re the heart of it all. And I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Those words hit Y/N in a way she hadn’t expected. His rough exterior hid a heart that was as loyal as they came, and for the first time, she allowed herself to truly believe that she, too, was part of something bigger—something that could make a difference in this world of light and shadows.

The city outside was full of danger, and there was no telling what tomorrow would bring, but for now, in the warmth of Vander’s embrace, Y/N knew that this fight—this love, this shared vision—was something worth continuing. Two people from vastly different worlds, bound together not by circumstance, but by choice. In this city of contradictions, the one thing that was certain was that they would continue to fight for each other, for these streets, and for the people they both loved.

SILCO

The city of Zaun was always dark, but it was a kind of darkness that felt like home for Y/N. She stood by the window of the luxurious apartment she had arranged for herself, a place where opulence met the underbelly of the city she loved. Beyond the glass, the haze of the polluted air mingled with the glow of the industrial lights from Piltover. The rhythmic hum of the machines below felt like a heartbeat, steady and constant, much like the world she had come to dominate in her own way.

The apartment itself was a reflection of her duality—rich velvet curtains alongside sleek, modern furniture, all bathed in the dim glow of carefully placed lights. It was a place of refuge for Y/N, and though it was filled with the trappings of wealth, there was always something raw about it, something unpolished. A perfect blend of beauty and danger, much like its owner.

A soft knock came at the door before it opened, and in walked Silco, his presence as commanding as ever. He wore that familiar tight-lipped smile, a contrast to the deep intensity in his eyes. The heavy door clicked shut behind him, his steps deliberate, measured.

Y/N didn’t turn to greet him right away. Instead, she took another slow sip of her drink, savoring the taste of fine whiskey as the amber liquid slid down her throat. Her eyes stayed on the skyline outside, pretending to focus on the world that lay beyond her reach, though it was only Silco she cared for in that moment. Silco’s eyes flickered over to her glass, then back to her face, a silent acknowledgment of the shared intimacy between them.

“You’ve been drinking alone,” he remarked, his tone a mixture of amusement and curiosity, his voice as smooth as silk, but edged with something darker.

Y/N’s lips curled into a faint smile, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of her glass. “Not alone, Silco,” she said, voice soft yet steady, “not when you’re always with me.”

She finally turned to face him, allowing her eyes to linger on him, meeting his gaze with a knowing intensity. Her beauty was undeniable, a polished elegance that stood in stark contrast to the grime of the city. Yet it was that very world that had drawn her to him—the grit, the fight, the power. Silco had never been one for the glittering balls or social events she thrived in, but he understood the power of connections and influence—something she had plenty of.

She took a step toward him, her heels clicking against the marble floor with every movement, the sound deliberate, like a promise. The room was filled with that electric tension between them, a current neither could deny.

“I’ve spoken to my contacts,” Y/N said, her eyes gleaming with a hidden satisfaction as she stood just inches from him now. “The shipment you were waiting for—your new supply of shimmer—will arrive ahead of schedule. They’ll get it to you safely, no questions asked.”

Silco’s lips twitched upward, a rare moment of appreciation for the socialite in front of him. His eyes softened, just for a moment, before he regained his usual icy composure. “You’ve done well, darling,” he said, his voice smooth and low. “I always knew I could count on you.”

Y/N’s eyes sparkled, the edge of triumph evident in her gaze. It was a rare moment where Silco allowed himself to acknowledge the strength of her work. She was a force of her own, and he couldn’t help but respect her for it. But there was also something more between them—something unspoken, a bond they’d forged over time, despite the differences in their worlds.

Y/N took another step forward, her body almost pressing against his. The air between them seemed to thicken, charged with anticipation. She let her hand trail along the back of his neck, the touch light, yet possessing a sense of ownership. Her fingers grazed the fine line of his jaw, a subtle reminder of how far she could reach into his world.

“Of course, Silco. Anything for you,” she whispered, her voice low and breathless.

There was a moment of silence, heavy and thick, where the weight of their connection hung in the air. Y/N felt it—the way the room seemed to shrink around them, as though the entire world outside disappeared the moment their eyes locked. Slowly, she stepped even closer, her heart pounding in her chest.

She raised her hand to touch his face, her fingers brushing against the scar that marred his once-perfect visage. It was a reminder of everything he had fought for, everything he had become. She didn’t flinch from it, though. She understood it, better than most. Her hand slid to the back of his head, pulling him in slightly, as she tilted her head to meet his lips with hers.

The kiss was slow at first—lingering, soft, a dance of control and surrender. But soon, it deepened, growing more insistent as their bodies pressed closer. Silco’s hands found her waist, gripping her firmly as if to remind her that, even in the comfort of her world, he was the one who held the power.

When they finally broke apart, the air between them crackled, but neither seemed willing to fully let go. Silco’s lips curled into a wry, knowing smile. His voice was low, almost a growl as he whispered against her ear. “You are a dangerous woman, Y/N,” he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. “You know that?”

Y/N chuckled softly, her fingers threading through his hair as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear. “I know,” she whispered back, her voice laden with something deeper, darker. “But I think you like it.”

A fire sparked in Silco’s eyes, the raw intensity that had always been there, hidden beneath the cool exterior. His grip on her waist tightened, pulling her even closer until there was no space left between them. Before she could say anything more, he pulled her into a deeper kiss, his lips claiming hers with a hunger that left no room for doubt. In that moment, the world outside seemed irrelevant—nothing mattered except the two of them, tangled in a web of power, passion, and everything they had built together.

In his world, power was everything. But in this moment, with Y/N in his arms, the world of influence and wealth she inhabited seemed like nothing more than a shadow. They were together, and that was all that mattered.

MEL

It was another night of glittering chandeliers, laughter echoing through the halls of the grand estate, and conversations dripping with carefully concealed motives. The gathering had been long—everyone playing their part, exchanging pleasantries, and using their charm to win favor. But as the evening drew to a close, you and Mel finally slipped away from the crowd. The two of you, never far from each other, made your way back to your shared apartment.

The door closed behind you with a soft click, and instantly, the weight of the night began to lift. You both had been on your best behavior all night—smiling, nodding, keeping up with the latest gossip, but now, in the quiet of your home, you could finally drop the masks.

Mel sighed and slung her coat over the back of the couch, her usual graceful composure softening into something more comfortable, more real. "I swear, if I hear about Lord Di'ana's 'new invention' one more time..." she muttered, shaking her head. "The man’s been talking about it for months. I’m starting to think it’s just an elaborate excuse to sell overpriced scraps."

You couldn't help but laugh. "I overheard someone say his invention was meant to 'revolutionize' transportation. But after seeing his demonstration, I’d say it was more of a fire hazard than anything else." You raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe with a smile. "I also heard someone whispering that his wife is... shall we say, 'entertained' by a few more guests than she lets on."

Mel snorted, her lips curling into an amused grin. "Oh, I’m sure that’s true. Everyone knows she's always had an eye for the finer things in life. But a few guests? I’d say it’s a lot more than that." She winked, and the playful sparkle in her eyes made your heart skip a beat.

You stepped into the living room, taking a seat next to her on the couch. "And what about Lady Sevrin? I overheard her telling people that you were ‘on her list’ of ‘troublesome’ women to keep an eye on," you said, your tone teasing. "I have to say, I feel rather honoured to be included in such illustrious company."

Mel rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the amused smile tugging at her lips. "As if she could do anything about it. She’s too busy gossiping about anyone with power to actually keep up with them. And don’t even get me started on her newest ‘business ventures.’ That woman’s completely delusional." She paused, her voice lowering, as if she were revealing a well-kept secret. "But here's the funniest part: I overheard one of the servants whispering that she’s secretly in debt up to her eyeballs. All those ‘business ventures’ are just to keep up the facade of success. She’s one bad investment away from losing it all."

You raised an eyebrow, genuinely impressed. "Now that's a bit of juicy gossip. I’ll be sure to keep that one in my back pocket for the next time she gives me that look of hers."

Mel leaned back, her arm brushing against yours, and sighed contentedly. "It’s always amusing what people will reveal when they think no one's listening. It’s a game, really—pretend to be someone else, hide your true intentions, all while trying to figure out everyone else’s secrets."

You smiled softly, glancing over at her. "Speaking of secrets... how are you feeling about all of this? The masks, the games, the endless performances?"

Mel’s expression softened, her eyes thoughtful for a moment before she spoke, her voice quieter now. "I’m fine. It’s... what I’m good at. It’s who I am, at least in this world. But sometimes, I wish things were simpler. That we could just—" She stopped, and when she looked at you again, there was a rare vulnerability in her gaze. "That I could just be with you without the constant weight of all this. Without needing to be someone else."

You reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from her face, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "You don’t need to be anyone else with me, Mel. I love you for who you are—behind the masks, behind all the roles you play. And you’re not alone in this. We both have to play these games, but we don’t have to play them alone."

She leaned in, her lips brushing against your forehead in a tender kiss. "I don’t know what I’d do without you, you know? You make all of this feel... bearable."

You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close. "Same here. We’re in this together, Mel. Always."

As the city buzzed outside your windows, the two of you sat in the quiet of your apartment, the secrets of the evening forgotten for a moment, wrapped in each other’s presence. The masks, for now, could wait.

[serious-tabaxi]

*when doing some research on the geography of the planet you now live on, you find out about a very strange local that demands interest*

*the people call it the "frostring", lingusts and glossomancers have deduced that it's true name is the "Eternal Frozen Prison of Mh'oggra". it is a large circle, about 50 miles in radius, behind short concrete walls and giant, regularly-spaced techno-machines that seem to have been constructed by an ancient civilization (knowing this planet, likely some kind of dragon) that knew quiet an amount, but not an EXTENSIVE amount, of both magic and technology, and made up for their shortcomings by combing the two into one field.*

*inside the circle, the temperate PLUMMETS from a pleasant 15 degrees celsius, to well below freezing, near polar. Well, it's clearly MEANT to, but due to age and damage the cold air has begun to leak out, chilling the surrounding plains and forest and allowing for the growth of plant life inside the previously lifeless dome.*

*it has many traps and defense systems inside, such as flechette turrets and concrete golems, though the environment alone is usually enough to deal with trespassers. some explorers even claim to have seen "ice zombies" in the fog*

*of course, one question remains: why would they build this ring? and who is "Mh'oggra"? is this a prison FOR Mh'oggra or a prison BY Mh'oggra? what would make a giant ice zone a good prison for whatever's in there?*

*at some point, someone is going to have to go in and find out, preferably someone who can deal with freezing climes and experience in dungeons, maybe in killing ancient evils also. It's crumbling anyways, so it's only a matter of time until what's inside breaks out unless it's stopped first*

Menoa: damn- the elders really were bad at magitech when they made this thing. my magitech would never have degraded this much.

*after some standing around to both inspect and insult the prison, Menoa walks inside.*

Menoa: now where did they put Mh'oggra... Menoa: probably in the bottom-most point like predictable idiots.

[lostinhistory]

Heritage News of the Week

Discoveries!

Egyptian archaeologists have discovered tombs dating back to the New Kingdom period (1550–1070 B.C.) and identified the names and titles of their owners through inscriptions found within.

World’s oldest fingerprint may be a clue that Neanderthals created art

A man 43,000 years ago dipped a finger in red pigment and made a nose on a face-like pebble in Spain, scientists say

Winged goddess carving discovered by volunteers at Hadrian’s Wall in England

A couple of volunteer archaeologists participating in an excavation unearthed a Roman depiction of the winged goddess of victory near Hadrian’s Wall.

Remains of Mayan city nearly 3,000 years old unearthed in Guatemala

Archaeologists have unearthed the remains of a Mayan city nearly 3,000 years old in northern Guatemala, with pyramids and monuments that point to its significance as an important ceremonial site.

'I did a bit of a dance': Detectorist finds gold 'mourning ring' engraved with skull and date in UK field

A British metal detectorist discovered a gold band with an engraved date-of-death in Norfolk.

Scientists date the oldest known tools made from whale bones to 20,000 years ago

Technological advancements in the past decade have now made it possible to date the oldest of the tools to about 20,000 years ago. Scientists found that the bones came from blue whales, fin whales, sperm whales and other species.

Lost Byzantine city rediscovered in Jordanian desert

Archaeologists believe they have rediscovered the lost Byzantine city of Tharais in southern Jordan, according to a Türkiye Today report. The settlement is thought to have been an important religious and trading center along the Roman and Byzantine road network connecting Zoar to central Jordan.

Genomes from ancient Maya people reveal collapse of population and civilization 1,200 years ago

Ancient DNA from people buried up to 1,600 years ago in Honduras have revealed clues to the rise and fall of the Maya.

Greek archaeologists uncover ancient marble workshop filled with unfinished statues

Images of Aphrodite and other female figures have been uncovered on the island of Paros.

Occupant of Egyptian tomb finally identified after 50 years

During the 1970s, excavations at the Al-Asasif necropolis on Luxor’s west bank uncovered an elaborate rock-cut tomb. Archaeologists theorized that it must have belonged to an Egyptian dignitary, but at the time they were unable to identify the deceased and the tomb was labeled with the generic name of Kampp 23.

Ancient DNA reveals a new group of people who lived near land bridge between the Americas

Discovered through ancient DNA, the group lived in the high plateaus of present-day Bogotá, Colombia — close to where the Americas meet. Scientists aren’t sure exactly where they fall in the family tree because they’re not closely related to ancient Native Americans in North America and also not linked to ancient or present-day South Americans.

More than 100 hidden ancient structures come to light in Peru

Researchers used LiDAR to create the most detailed map to date of Gran Pajatén.

Earthquake reveals Roman theatre in Croatia

During renovation and repair work to the building, construction crews encountered long forgotten and well-preserved Roman ruins buried just beneath the modern structure’s basement.

A lost WWI submarine is discovered ‘remarkably intact’ after 100 years

Researchers also surveyed a Navy torpedo bomber that crashed in 1950.

'Trash' found deep inside a Mexican cave turns out to be 500-year-old artifacts from a little-known culture

While investigating a cave high in the mountains of Mexico, a spelunker thought she had found a pile of trash from a modern-day litterbug. But upon closer inspection, she discovered that the "trash" was actually a cache of artifacts that may have been used in fertility rituals more than 500 years ago.

Sunken fossils shed light on mysterious early humans in Indonesia

A scientist from the Netherlands was about to quit searching when he came upon a skull fragment.

Museums

The Arts Council England urges “sensitivity and care”, while museum academics says the ruling does not impact work towards trans-inclusive practice

Manchester Museum wins the 2025 European Museum of the Year Award

The Manchester Museum has won the European Museum of the Year Award for creating “new spaces to foster deeper community connections and promote intercultural dialogue."

Harvard agrees to transfer photos of enslaved people to black history museum

Harvard University has agreed to hand over a set of historic photos believed to be among the earliest depicting enslaved people in the United States.

London tunnels that inspired James Bond creator will become spy museum

The Military Intelligence Museum is to collaborate with the London Tunnels company, developing the complex to showcase its original artefacts, equipment, weapons and documents in a modern hi-tech experience at the proposed new £220m London tourist attraction, which is planned to open in 2028.

Trump says he fired National Portrait Gallery chief in latest conflict with arts

President says director Kim Sajet has been fired but experts suggest president does not have legal grounds to do so.

Donkey display highlights role of animals in wartime

The Donkeys at the Museum event was created in partnership with the Donkey Breed Society, and features a display of purple poppies, created to commemorate all the animals that played a vital role in global wars.

Their names are Tom, Maurice, and Teddy and they enjoy playing football

The Jewish dealer who bought art hated by the Nazis – and created one of the greatest collections ever seen

A new National Gallery of Australia show draws on Heinz Berggruen’s collection to celebrate the spread of modernism around the world, despite the Nazis’ best efforts

The 23 best museums to visit in Paris

Within Paris thrive about 200 institutions, each with a collection of its own.

Repatriation

The Metropolitan Museum of Art recently announced that it will return three ancient sculptures to Iraq, dating from 3rd to 2nd millennium BCE.

D.A. Bragg announces return of 11 antiquities to the people of Egypt

Manhattan District Attorney Alvin L. Bragg, Jr., announced the return of 11 antiquities to the people of Egypt. The objects were recovered pursuant to multiple criminal investigations, including one into previously convicted London-based trafficker Robin Symes, who passed away in 2023.

Manhattan DA’s Office repatriates eight artifacts to Peru

The Manhattan District Attorney’s Office returned eight artifacts to Peru during a ceremony at the Peruvian consulate in New York on May 15.

Louvre to return 258 works from Rothschild Cabinet of Curiosities

The Louvre Museum in Paris will surrender 258 works from the bequest of collector Adèle de Rothschild to the Fondation des Artistes that were improperly inventoried in its collection, Le Monde reported Wednesday.

Heritage at risk

The European Union has sanctioned a Russian museum for the first time. On Tuesday, the EU released its latest round of sanctions against Russia, which includes the “Tauric Chersonese” State Museum-Preserve on the outskirts of the city of Sevastopol in Crimea. Its director, Elena Morozova, is also included on the list.

Wildfire damages Civil War-area historical site in New Mexico as campgrounds are evacuated

The fire damaged structures at Fort Stanton Historical Site built by the Civilian Conservation Corps in the 1930s and a gym erected by Germans interned at the site during World War II after their ship sank.

Vandal sprayed obscene graffiti at Peruvian archaeological site in broad daylight

The incident at Chan Chan, the largest adobe city in the Americas, has drawn attention to the lax security at the 600-year-old Unesco World Heritage Site

Odds and ends

When fossilised remains were discovered in the Djurab desert in 2001, they were hailed as radically rewriting the history of our species. But not everyone was convinced – and the bitter argument that followed has consumed the lives of scholars ever since.

Churchill photo thief sentenced to two years in jail

Jeffrey Wood had pleaded guilty to stealing the original print from Ottawa's Château Laurier hotel between Christmas 2021 and early January 2022. He also admitted committing forgery.

Birds were nesting in the Arctic during age of dinosaurs, scientists discover

Minuscule fossils from 73m years ago are oldest evidence yet for birds nesting in polar regions

Arctic, feathered … or just weird: what have we learned since Walking with Dinosaurs aired 25 years ago

As the BBC updates its groundbreaking series, a look at some of the recent scientific discoveries

[missmarveledsblog]

Not just a flower child huh? ( Logan howlett x reader) part 5

Summary: a bored y/n leads to a choas filled result as she running through the mansion fight with technology, piotr finally expresses his guilt for not being there to help her when they were kids and revealing more than he intended to

Warning : goofy , angsty , mentions of violence and abusive past , Google translated Russian ( feel free to correct me ) , grammatical errors , slowish burn

Previous part

Restless maybe was what she was feeling , each day was both a reminder she was free but it was almost the same as the one before. She would help some of the teachers and professors set up Before lessons , head to the living room for bit Then her greenhouse. Read a little , tend the plants then dinner time . Each night she would fail to sleep and end up in the kitchen Or garden with logan chat about anything while She drank her tea and He drank a beer or glass of whiskey. She enjoyed It but it was the same over and over so now she felt restless and in that Feeling she felt guilty like she should be grateful Either way for it all . She walked down the halls admiring the ark work that adorned the walls til she found a room she not been in she tried the door to find it unlocked , she walked in hitting the light seeing it was a gym probably her brothers favorite room in the mansion considering every time she seen him he was sweaty even when he was in his other form . Almost inspecting the equipment as she passed by the machinery . She spotted a dummy only it was different it had buttons all along the side of it which she at that point should of left alone considering she could barely read English writing most of books gotten for her where in Russian if not all of them . Yet the curiosity got the better of her turning it on she turned the dial to ten as the thing stood up making her jump up . What she didn't expect was for it to start circling her like she was prey and it was the hunter . In a spilt second it lunged at her make her almost fall backwards to get out of the way , then it kicked her sending her across the gym crashing into the wall . A groan she got up and shut the door maybe if she got someone they could turn it off only for the thing to pull the door off the hinges . She took off down the hall and it took off after her throwing thing it found on its way to try deter her from getting away .

“ дерьмо , дерьмо ,дерьмо ( shit , shit ,shit)” she cursed running down the hall. Running to the main area she seen rogue coming out to see what the commotion was.

“ get help” was all y/n could get out of her mouth before she dodged the murderous robot Coming at her sending the now wide eyed woman in search of just that . Knocking her to the ground as it went to punch her she moved the robotic fist hitting the ground smashing the Floor mere inches From her skull .

“ хорошо, моя очередь ( ok my turn)” she narrowed her eyes sending a kick to the Metal chest pushing it back so she could get to her feet . Flipping Over the seemly angry robotic dummy She kicked it back sending it into the wall only for it to keep Coming . Soon she was catching it movement , knowing when to dodge and when to hit not once in the seemly Dance she was tangled Up with did she even consider Using her powers or the fact a crowd Now build watching the whole thing. She jumped on it shoulders as it fist flew Trying to get Her when she finally hit the power off button jumping Off The things shoulder to the ground panting finally seeing them stand around .

“ who the fuck thought to have this thing in a building full of kids” she asked looking down at the now lifeless dummy.

“ you ok?” logan asked.

“ other then demon robot Trying to kill Me , peachy” she stood before hitting the ground matching the dummy .

“ ok shows over back to class” he chuckled Heading over picking Her up . “ you can hold your own bub” he carried Her off to her room ignoring jean telling him to bring her to the med wing .

She shoot Up panting , sweating a common way for her body To walk realizing she was not in the common area as she took in the interior of her room. The plain Room bar Few drawing the kids had giving her that is .

“ welcome Back to the land of the living rocky?” A voice called making her head turn to see logan holding one of her books.

“ you can read in russian” her voice rasped .

“ not a clue , how you feeling” he asked putting it down.

“ all healed , what the hell was that thing?” she stretched out really she wasn't lying she didn't feel any pain at all .

“ training dummy keeps us in shape when on missions , impressive work out there how come you didn't use your powers” he asked.

“ well you know I didn't get a chance to think of them when it was trying to kill me” she rolled her eyes heading to her closet needing to get out the clothes now felt well sweaty.

“ where you learn to fight like that” he asked watching as she walked to bathroom.

“ learn myself to do it , knew I would need more to protect the kids” she yelled out pulling the wet material off of her body seeing a faint remainder of a bruise still there but in fairness it did kick her across the gym. “ learned from the men when they beat me too” she walked out seeing him still sitting there.

“ your not bad , not at all could use some pointers” he shrugged standing walking to her door holding it open for her .

“ I don't use it that often on to defend me or others” she said easily.

“ if you want I can help you out , just some tips” .

“ ok once its not with that thing though” agreeing because if she was honest with herself it was kinda fun.

“ not robot, just Me and You like sparring” he smiled as they entered The dinning Room.

“ OK we spar “ she headed to her seat.

“ hey rocky how are you “ bobby asked.

“ why do you call me that , logan too” her head tilted .

“ its a movie you know the boxer .. nevermind “ he said seeing as none of it was registering With her.

“ I am fine , I will fix The broken stuff or work to replace it” she looked to the professor .

“ not at all , once you are unharmed It's the main thing although I am sorry we didn't warn you before hand”.

“How come you didn't use your powers ?”

“ I Didn't think of them when it was swinging at my head” she ate The food as she Could physically see the cogs turning Inside their Heads . “ anything else?” She looked Around The room .

“ what made you turn the dial to ten couldn't you see the warnings?” Bobby Spoke up .

“ I can't read English that well now let me eat” she glared feeling A little embarrassed .

“hey less yapping more eating” .

Once again she was looking around her room only this time it was covered in vines and there was thumping on the doctor , screaming for her go answer . She pulled the door Open it wasn't the mansion It was the cage , the same metal Bars She stared at day in and day out . The feeling Of a electric shock hitting her skin making her fall to her knees feeling it course through out her body Hitting ever nerve In her , she biting Her Lip that much the copper metallic taste danced on her taste buds . Only thing she was grateful For was she was only one in the cage .

“ enough” it called out . “ my little lab bunny finally Awake” he taunted.

“ your not real” she gritted only for the shock to happen.

“Not necessarily Wrong bunny but I'm a part of you know , I'm the one who truly know the monster you are” he was laughing.

“ he's wrong dear Come on Follow my voice” .

“ you see how they see you , when you watch them being taken” .

“ you paralyzed me keep the knife in so I could not move” she gritted.

“ they’re not there , follow my voice dear don't listen To him” professor sat watching over Her sleeping for the screams Were louder transferring To reality. “ it not working she Is prisoner to her own subconscious , piotr Any thing that helped when she was a child” the professor Asked .

“ a song our grandmother would sing” he asked feeling rather useless lately to help her.

“ may I?” Charles asked for the man to nod . Eyes close as he was almost transfer the memory from one sibling to the other.

She felt something shift , the line of the things around her blur , the cage Switching between The metal she knew To the fire She used to sit At . She seen stryker words muffling as the melodic Humming on her grandmothers voice filled her ears , the wrinkled Hand around her shoulder and the smell of lavender soap filled her senses . She was home , back on the rural farm she missed so dearly one that even though it wasn't the biggest or the fanciest it was the place she knew a Beloved One . her Tense body relaxing almost instantly and she savored the moment , the feeling , the everything. Was only then it was fading , only then her body Was listening and she began opening her eyes. She was sweating and crying but she was scared this time . She sat Up and look To see the blurry figure Being push out of the room and four small ones coming towards Her clinging on to her .

“ we will keep you safe Sister” Ana Muffled voice hit Her ears.

“ we love you” luka head rested On her shoulder .

“ that's my job” she said softly kissing their heads . “ I am OK just bad dream , go to bed” she smiled softly as they reluctantly left Harry clinging to her little more but eventually Left .

“ you both share same happy memories more of you in his ” charles looked between siblings.

“ I've have an Amazing grandmother, but I have an even more amazing big brother” .

“ Я подвел тебя( I failed you)” his eyes fell to the ground Not willing to look At her .

“ Ты думал, что я умер, ты оплакивал меня. ( you thought I was dead , you mourned me)” she stood , coming in front of him hand on his arm .

“ Я должен был искать тебя, видел их ложь. ( I should of been looking for you , I should of seen their lies) “ his eyes filled with guilt and sadness that matched his words . “ Мне не следовало тебя оставлять.( I shouldn't have left you )” .

“ Тебе было шестнадцать, ты был ребенком( you were sixteen ,child yourself )” trying to show the guilt he had was misplaced that it shouldn't have been there at all .

“ Если бы я увидел их сейчас, я бы не смог сдержать слов. ( if I seen them now I might not be able to keep it To words ) “ she watched as he started pacing , the anger Building . “ их никогда не волновало, кому они причиняют боль, и до сих пор не волнует( they never cared who they hurt , they still Dont)” .

“ что ты имеешь в виду?(what do you mean ?) “ her brows furrowed. Was he saying what she Thought he was.

“ ты знаешь, какие они ( you know what they're like)” he pause only then he realize what he said .

“ they are alive” her voice and expression unreadable , her stare no longer comforting .

“Yes Here is new york” .

“ I want to see them” Everything about her in that moment told him that no wasn't even in the realm of possibilities of an answer.

part 6

Taglist : @oscarissac2099 @ayamenimthiriel @mega-kittyglitter-1

[jedidryad]

WIP Wednesday: Finding a dream

When Mara's life is shattered and then revealed to be a lie, she loses any dreams and ideals she once had. She maintains a moral code and a skilled competence most of us can only imagine, but she loses her ability to imagine building a life for herself and dreaming of what that life might be like. Rediscovering hopes and dreams are part of the healing process, and I've decided that she takes a step here, on Kessel near the beginning of Champions of the Force:

As I settled into a close orbit over the moon, I accomplished another task as well. There, below me, was a sleek, beautiful craft that was easily recognized as The Lady Luck. Calrissian had whined to me about how he’d lost his ship here and how he’d expected the poor thing would be stripped down for parts by now as though by roverines.

That did not seem to be the case.

I did a once about the Luck to inspect it. It looked okay. I couldn’t see any obviously missing pieces, or anti-flight devices. It looked intact and sealed up tight. 

It was a nice ship. I understood why he had worried. The Lady Luck was a Sorosuub 3000. Sorusuub had been making luxury starcraft for over 5000 years, and they were impeccable about it. Legend said that their workmanship was so good there were Sorosuub ships flying around with pre Imperial hyperdrives that had never needed repair. I’d certainly never been called upon to repair one. Their 3000 model was the cutting edge in technological innovation and modifiable to the point that each ship was basically custom built. And, now that I was seeing one close up, I could see it was also gorgeous.

The only weakness I could find was that it took me less than 30 seconds to crack the code on the lock panel and gain access, but that spoke more to Calrissian’s lack of interest in security than to the manufacturer. Maybe this mission for Karrde wouldn’t be so bad if this was our method of transport.

Despite the craft being seemingly untouched, I ran a full inspection and systems check before starting the power up sequence. 

“Oh I want one.” I murmured to myself as the ship came online. It was a pointless thing to say out loud, even just to myself. There were many things I could want in the universe and most of them were unlikely enough that there was no point in even dreaming of them. I wasn’t sure why this desire coalesced enough in my mind for me to recognize it for what it was, but I clamped down on the thought with a snort of derision.

“Dream on, Mara.” I scolded myself as the repulsors engaged and the yacht lifted off the planet’s surface as smoothly as an avian.

“Mother of Kwath!” I blurted out as the controls responded to my touch with a measured power that made me a little giddy. Even when my missions had been outfitted by Palpatine himself, I’d never had the chance to fly a Sorosuub. My heart was racing and I knew my face was flushed. Something had come alive in me that I wasn’t sure what to do with.

[thermoeliteinc]

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[ifieldsmart]

Enhancing Construction Quality Assurance: The Role of Construction Inspection Software - Blog - iFieldSmart Technologies

In the ever-evolving landscape of construction projects, maintaining high standards of quality and compliance is non-negotiable. From ensuring structural integrity to adhering to safety regulations, meticulous inspections play a pivotal role in the success of any construction endeavor. However, traditional paper-based inspection methods are often cumbersome and prone to errors, leading to inefficiencies and delays. Enter Construction Inspection Software – a transformative solution designed to revolutionize the way construction inspections are conducted and managed. In this article, we’ll explore the features, benefits, and impact of Construction Field Inspection Software on the construction industry.

visit : www.ifieldsmart.com/inspections

[moominpapasfanficblog]

The Dread Moomin Pirates AU

The Moomin Pirates Arrive In Moominvalley

All throughout coastal Europe, the Moomin Pirates were universally feared. Even in the tiny village of Moominvalley in Moominland they were the frequent subject of gossip and storytelling. The Joxter, a Mumrik who was the head of the Mymble family and a pillar of the community, was always elaborating on his days with them in the group’s infancy. He would tell spellbinding stories of Moominpapa, Moominmama, Hodgkins, The Muddler and his wife and family and their ship, The Oshun Oxtra, and the beginning of their criminal career. His son, Snufkin, was his most eager audience.

It had taken the influence of The Mymble as The Joxter fell in love and married her to turn him into the well respected homebody and family man who he was now. Snufkin and his big sisters, Little My, and Mymble, were their only children and together they made a happy, harmonious family who got along with just about everyone in Moominvalley.

They lived in a large, rambling, three story house in the middle of the open field at the center of the village. The Joxter had built the house with little in the way of a coherent plan. He had kept adding areas to the house as inspiration struck him until his duties as a father had meant that he no longer had the time to add onto the house. It was thanks to The Mymble’s stabilizing influence on her husband that the house was well and solidly built and the rooms flowed smoothly from one to another and all of them were safe, comfortable, and useable. It had been called The Mymblehouse by the residents of Moominvalley and the name stuck.

Despite the fact that Moominvalley had nothing to attract pirates, Snufkin couldn’t stop dreaming of encountering the Moomin Pirates. He would spend a lot of his free time on the beach and had eagerly learned building skills from his father so that he could build a bathhouse with a boardwalk attached to it and a small boat that he and his father would take out for fishing on fair days. He did all of this so that he could look out beyond Moominvalley Bay to the open ocean, hoping to catch sight of The Oshun Oxtra.

On the very day of Snufkin’s fifteenth birthday in June one Summer in Moominvalley, the coast of the village was hit by a terrible storm. Naturally, everyone in the village took shelter from the storm in their homes as best they could. The Mymblehouse was the safest place to weather such a storm and a lot of the very smallest beasts who lived in Moominvalley’s forests took shelter there.

The next morning Snufkin and The Joxter went out with these beasts to inspect all the damage and make plans to restore their homes. Snufkin, of course, used the excuse to make directly for the beach to check on his bathhouse and boat. To his amazement, there was a ship about the size of a man of war trapped in the middle of the bay and nearly wrecked. It was highly technologically advanced, made entirely of metal, and had a prominent pilot’s house in the middle of the deck with two large smokestacks attached to it.

Snufkin was relieved to see that his boat was entirely intact, although the bathhouse and boardwalk were completely destroyed. Without hesitation, Snufkin swam out to the boat and rowed out to the ship. His eagerness gave him extraordinary courage and he made his way onto the deck of the ship and began looking for a way inside.

Before he could make much progress, the metal door of the pilot’s house opened wide and Snufkin found himself confronted with a male Moomin his own age who immediately looked at him with extreme hostility and drew a cutlass from the belt of his complete pirate outfit. Snufkin felt at a severe disadvantage in his peasant outfit and raincoat.

“Where are we?! Who are you?! How is The Oshun Oxtra?!”, asked the Moomin in rapid succession.

“Did you say The Oshun Oxtra?!”, said Snufkin, losing all of his fear and discomfort in his extreme excitement, “I’m sorry, but this is my biggest dream come true! I-I’m Snufkin and you’re in Moominvalley! We’re a tiny village with very little in the way of law enforcement, so you don’t have to worry, no one is going to try to arrest you or anything! If you’ll let me, I’ll introduce you to my father, The Joxter, who can undoubtedly help you with any repairs your ship may need!”

An adult Moomin wearing a pirate captain’s outfit and a top hat appeared behind the younger Moomin.

“Did you say The Joxter?! Put that sword away, Moomintroll! We’ve been extremely lucky and found ourselves in a friendly port after that storm!”, he said, “So, you’re his son, you said? How is he? How’s The Mymble? No, no don’t answer. There’s no time for that right now. We very gladly accept his….and your help! I’m Moominpapa, and this is my eldest son, Moomintroll! We’re both very glad and grateful to meet you, aren’t we?!”

“Yes, Papa.”, said Moomintroll, a little embarrassed by his earlier overreaction.

“Get in my boat, both of you, and I’ll take you back to the Mymblehouse and you can meet my mother….again, and the rest of my family! My father will return home any time now and you can make plans to rescue your ship!”, said Snufkin.

At that moment two Snorks, one male, and about twenty years old, the other female, and about fifteen years old, came out of the pilot’s house and emerged on the deck of the ship.

“How is everything, Papa?”, asked the male Snork.

“Most excellent, Snork! We’ve been rescued! We’ve found my old friend, The Joxter, and his family. They’re going to help us repair The Oshun Oxtra and get back out to sea! Report back to the rest of the crew and start inspecting the ship to find what needs to be fixed! We’ll be back soon!”, said Moominpapa.

“Yes, sir!”, said The Snork, who immediately turned back towards the hatch in the pilot’s house, taking the female Snork by her paw. She was looking intently at Snufkin, trying to assess him as they headed back below decks.

Snufkin helped Moominpapa and his son into his boat and rowed them back to shore with a wide, enthusiastic smile on his face. He couldn’t wait for what would happen next.

To Be Continued

[blueiscoool]

Discovery of Roman Buried Coins in Wales Declared Treasure

Two sets of coins found by metal detectors in Wales are actually Roman treasure, the Welsh Amgueddfa Cymru Museum announced in a news release.

The coins were found in Conwy, a small walled town in North Wales, in December 2018, the museum said. David Moss and Tom Taylor were using metal detectors when they found the first set of coins in a ceramic vessel. This hoard contained 2,733 coins, the museum said, including "silver denarii minted between 32 BC and AD 235," and antoniniani, or silver and copper-alloy coins, made between AD 215 and 270.

The second hoard contained 37 silver coins, minted between 32 BC and AD 221. Those coins were "scattered across a small area in the immediate vicinity of the larger hoard," according to the museum.

"We had only just started metal-detecting when we made these totally unexpected finds," said Moss in the release shared by the museum. "On the day of discovery … it was raining heavily, so I took a look at Tom and made my way across the field towards him to tell him to call it a day on the detecting, when all of a sudden, I accidentally clipped a deep object making a signal. It came as a huge surprise when I dug down and eventually revealed the top of the vessel that held the coins."

The men reported their finds to the Portable Antiquities Scheme in Wales. The coins were excavated and taken to the Amgueddfa Cymru Museum for "micro-excavation and identification" in the museum's conservation lab. Louise Mumford, the senior conservator of archaeology at the museum, said in the news release that the investigation found some of the coins in the large hoard had been "in bags made from extremely thin leather, traces of which remained." Mumford said the "surviving fragments" will "provide information about the type of leather used and how the bags were made" during that time period.

The coins were also scanned by a CT machine at the TWI Technology Center Wales. Ian Nicholson, a consultant engineer at the company, said that they used radiography to look at the coin hoard "without damaging it."

"We found the inspection challenge interesting and valuable when Amgueddfa Cymru — Museum Wales approached us — it was a nice change from inspecting aeroplane parts," Nicholson said. "Using our equipment, we were able to determine that there were coins at various locations in the bag. The coins were so densely packed in the centre of the pot that even our high radiation energies could not penetrate through the entire pot. Nevertheless, we could reveal some of the layout of the coins and confirm it wasn't only the top of the pot where coins had been cached."

The museum soon emptied the pot and found that the coins were mostly in chronological order, with the oldest coins "generally closer to the bottom" of the pot, while the newer coins were "found in the upper layers." The museum was able to estimate that the larger hoard was likely buried in 270 AD.

"The coins in this hoard seem to have been collected over a long period of time. Most appear to have been put in the pot during the reigns of Postumus (AD 260-269) and Victorinus (AD 269-271), but the two bags of silver coins seem to have been collected much earlier during the early decades of the third century AD," said Alastair Willis, the senior curator for Numismatics and the Welsh economy at the museum in the museum's news release.

Both sets of coins were found "close to the remains of a Roman building" that had been excavated in 2013. The building is believed to have been a temple, dating back to the third century, the museum said. The coins may have belonged to a soldier at a nearby fort, the museum suggested.

"The discovery of these hoards supports this suggestion," the museum said. "It is very likely that the hoards were deposited here because of the religious significance of the site, perhaps as votive offerings, or for safe keeping under the protection of the temple's deity.

By Kerry Been.

[browneyesandhair]

Non-Exhaustive List of Soulmate Fics: Polin

Okay, I'm bored so I'm compiling my favorite soulmate fics. Here's the Polin edition:

These Days Will Fade Out by noveltyromance

Summary:

Penelope walked in and inspected the silvery words embedded on her skin. She really did meet her soulmate. It wouldn’t have turned colors if he was not hers. “So he said your words,” she mumbled softly to herself in the mirror, “but you didn’t say his.” It only meant one thing. Colin was her soulmate. But she wasn’t his.

tend my garden by runimpossiblegirl

Summary:

The forget-me-not on Penelope´s upper left arm had appeared when she was just sixteen. [Orinally posted with 5700 words on 31/12. Now updated to final version with 6900 and extra Colin POV on 01/01]

i'll use you as a warning sign by TheSushiMonster

Summary:

The words on his body sound like Lady Whistledown. His soulmate - the person meant to capture his body and heart, his partner and love of his life - ruins lives. Perhaps it makes sense that she’s already ruined his. - Or, soulmate AU where the words you write show up on your soulmate's skin.

i might lose everything if i lose the pain by frankchurchillsaysrelax

Summary:

Based on the prompt: On your 18th birthday you get a soul mark - one that would be identical to your soulmates. Colin is devastated that his does not match Marina’s. Trying to lighten up his mood days later - his brothers teasingly console him by saying that Penelope could get his mark when she turns 18 and that’s when she overhears him say that he would never marry her because he didn't think she's his soulmate. And as is Penelope's life a couple years later she gets an identical mark. Now she plans to hide it because she can’t handle his disappointment.

Give Me All The Pain (Give Me Everything) by wasteddarlinglover

Summary:

Penelope Featherington's soulmate hated her. She was alright with that. She hated him just as much. The only reason for their bond to exist was to bring each other pain. Colin Bridgerton's soulmate gave up on him years ago. He was not worthy of love and patience that their bond required. He learned to accept that and move on with his life. When two broken souls are brought together, Penelope and Colin find hope. Neither one of them can be with their soulmate, but maybe they can build something remarkable together. If they manage to let go of the pain, maybe they could even let themselves fall in love.

All the Time in the World by dontmakemeover

Summary:

All ladies of the Ton are instructed by their Queen to implant a TiMER on their wrists when they enter society at age 16. It is the truest and best way to find a Soulmate, with the TiMER counting down until the first time they will meet. Countless marriages have started this way (with at least a few of them ending the same way!) But Penelope Featherington does not highly rate this technology, for when her TiMER was implanted, the screen was blank. And what's more, she has seen the timer of the man she would like to be her true love, Colin Bridgerton, and knows that whoever her soulmate truly is, his is not her.

Latibule by The_Readers_Muse

Summary:

It was said you would be drawn to your one. That was the only advantage you had.

For the Both of Us by logogram

Summary:

A conversation with Fife and Cho leaves Colin wondering whether Penelope is his soulmate. Unfortunately, she seems to have become stubbornly attached to her gloves.

And So the Yandere Met the Bonnet Assassin by Seaowl

Summary:

There was a reason Violet was so hell bent to see all eight of her children married. The most valuable things to them are their soulmates and the family is told all their life that you are to do anything to protect and keep your soulmate. Lie, cheat, kill, frame, anything is on the table. The family that is so big on love that they become quite possessive of those who marry in, even if it is the soulmate of one of their siblings.

i'm the lock and you're the key by TheSushiMonster

Summary:

Penelope is ready to move on. Pining after Colin Bridgerton requires too much energy, too much of her soul. Penelope wants to find her soulmate, but maybe that may not be Colin after all. But… perhaps one last effort is necessary to completely eliminate Colin from her heart and mind. - Or, the “you must sleep with someone to determine if they’re your soulmate” AU.

Would I Lie To You? by LightLeadingMe

Summary:

It has been said and even written that true soulmates cannot lie to one another. They simply were unable to. Not even a small fib could be said to the person. Penelope began to resign herself to the fact that she'd never meet her soulmate, but then she ran (quite literally) into Colin Bridgerton.

Soulmarks by Seaowl

Summary:

Colin has found his soulmate, now he just has to find out who she is.

just let me adore you by TheSushiMonster

Summary:

Colin Bridgerton falls off his horse at age twenty-one and laughs. It’s a full-body laugh, bright and bold and gut-wrenching, as if his soul is finally free. Then he feels a burn across his left bicep, just beside his shoulder and when he inspects his skin, the outline of a detailed feather stares back at him. - Or, now that Colin knows Penelope is his soulmate, he vows to make her laugh in his presence so she can be his too. Or, the role reversal soulmate AU.

[goat-guy-tm]

There isn't enough content of VP so I'll make it myself.

I think we deserved more of Laurence trying to come to terms with the idea that he was in a new realm. Yeah, he had been to and stuck in the nether before so he would accept it faster, but MMW/VP's world is so much different than both the Nether and the Overworld (which I will use to address MCD's realm in this post).

VP's world is more technologically advanced and science based than either of the former, and for some reason, Laurence was just fine seeing a computer for the first time. Like a microscope? I could understand, maybe the Overworld had less advanced versions of those, but a fucking COMPUTER?? No way he would be normal about that, cause again, THEY DO NOT HAVE CRAYONS IN MCD, LAURENCE DOES NOT KNOW WHAT CRAYONS ARE.

Also, what if because they are from different realms, Laurence's body/innards are different from what Polly and Laila are expecting when x-raying him and inspecting him? It's been fanon established that the people of Phoenix Drop would have heftier builds because wheat and meats are their main diet, so Laila and Polly would def note how his diet makes his body, which would make Laurence very astonished since they 100% have not reached that level of health research in the Overworld. Maybe his bones are tougher than what Polly and Laila are expecting, maybe he has extra or less ribs than 'normal'. Hell maybe even his heart is on the opposite side than they are expecting because he is a 'human' from ANOTHER DIMESNION.

Yes, they have encountered people from other dimensions before, but Laurence is arguably the most 'human' they have ever seen. Modzilla is...well for one a dimension hopper and a man charred by the void, Reese and Marsh are literal sentient candy humanoids, so arguably, Laurence is the closest to human they could get.

Maybe him being a shadow knight means his body on the inside exhibits sign of decay, something or anything that could make him seem dead. His skin being ice cold, maybe he lets them see his shadow knight form for scientific research.

While yes there was a plot they had to be following, there is so much we missed out on of them just addressing that Laurence is not where he's meant to be. He just woke up in this new dimension after by his account being hit over the head by someone so incredibly close to him (Garroth), and it is just breezed over. It's just a lil upsetting.

ALSO, the lack of other MMW characters returning is sad, I think it would have been funny if Laurence had to learn there is an entire dimension full of people made of candy.

[blazing-butterfly]

Had a dream about Transformers again. This one was about a show/toyline that did the whole "Earth is actually Unicron" plot twist that IIRC started with Bayverse and then was done again in Prime, but his main presence in the series wasn't his true planet body, rather a much smaller (while still huge) avatar he used to deal with lesser beings.

And instead of a planet, this avatar transformed into a volcano. One surrounded by ruins that looked vaguely greco-roman but on closer inspection were cybertronian technology.

And it blew my mind because it seems like so many baseformers are just sprawls of robot chunks passed off as a scifi city, but here was one whose base mode was actually trying to look like something! And it gave the robot mode really cool design elements too: The volcano's sides formed rocky outer armor flowing with lava, its crater a fiery core in his chest, ruined buildings became his head and hands and other robot parts visible between the rocks, broken arches and columns of once-great structures formed wings and horns, and the toy had an "eruption" blast effect could also be attached to his palms. I wish I could just project it from my mind into a picture, or better yet into an actual toy, because words can't do it justice and it was legitimately one of the coolest mental images I've ever had