#Flight data recorder

[dougielombax]

I wonder if the Great Spirit Robot had something like a black box.

You know. A flight data recorder containing all the data and information concerning its journeys, work, and research, among other things.

I mean it all had to have been backed up SOMEWHERE!

Right?!

Just something to think about.

[nocternalrandomness]

”The Black Box”

[macmanx]

On Memorial Day, I usually think about my Grandfather.

Not only about his service in the US Air Force during World War 2, flying P-51 fighter planes, but also that he lead the team at Lockheed Aircraft Service Company which pioneered the reusable and highly durable flight data recorder that is still in use on commercial and private aircraft today.

I hope he’s flying clear skies in the afterlife. At the very least, his technology is watching over us.

[autism-swagger]

It really irks me when people blame Misty for the Yellowjackets not getting rescued right away, because like. Airplane black boxes don't have gps????You can't track them, they have to be found. They just record flight information so you can tell what caused the crash.

[lusmeitli]

Where light in darkness lies

Summary: How helping with a panic attack can lead to something more.

Pairings: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Panic attack, a hint of angst, fluff, a bit of fingering.

A/N: There aren’t a lot of explanations given. I have also taken a great deal of liberties to bend characters at my will.

9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9

The kettle seemed to take forever. Wasn’t there a saying… a watched pot never boils? Apparently, it applied to kettles, too. As the appliance imitated sounds of an imminent blast off, you poked the tea bag at the bottom of the mug with the spoon from one side to another, then clockwi–

Suddenly, everything was plunged into darkness.

“Curses.”

You stretched your hand out to hold onto the kitchen counter for something… tactile. Grounding. Darkness was your foe.

The familiar fireball under your skin licked up your back and across your chest. Its heat seemed to suffocate you. Breaths came out faster, shallower, harsher. Fumbling to try and find your phone on the counter your hands knocked something over. It shattered on the floor. The mug.

Not enough air. You just couldn’t get enough air into your lungs. The only sounds you heard was the pounding beat of your heart and the ringing in your ears. The panic rose up like a monster looming in front of you, a cruel smirk on its face, before it would open its horrifying hellmouth and swallow you whole.

And then you felt hands on you, whirling you around. Soft lips firmly pressed onto yours, moving with purpose and absolutely no hesitation. Its spark set a fuse alight, burning through your body until it reached your brain, sending a shockwave through you. It took your body a long moment to snap out of your onsetting panic attack and to respond to the kiss. You nearly sobbed into the lips, at the distraction and relief they provided, your hands fisting in a shirt, warm skin and contracting muscles under your fingers.

The heat you had felt moments before was gone. In its stead grew an all consuming need. A soft moan escaped somewhere from the back of your throat. It broke the spell. You heard the person kissing you take in a shaky breath, before their lips left yours and it was over. Several moments later the lights flickered back on. You stood rooted to the spot, staring at the empty space in front of you and the broken mug on the floor.

Your fingertips ghosted over the spot where lips had touched yours and a blush crept over your cheeks. In the corner the kettle clicked, the water now boiled.

*****

“Loki?”

“Mhm.”

“Are you sure it was him? I mean how can you tell?”

You brought a hand over the receiver, trying to shield the words so only your friend could hear.

“I, um, hacked into the security camera footage from just before the power cut. He had walked into the kitchen literally a second before it happened.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. Then a heavy breath. “Wow. I don’t know what to say. Ain’t that something.”

“You’re right,” you huffed out, “I mean, this is me we’re talking about, right?”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“But it is though, isn’t it,” you said, rubbing your tired eyes. “It’s just little old me. Even if it really was him, it probably just was some silly prank or a dare.”

*****

The Quinjet in the hangar was your favourite place to work. Even though today you were in the tail of the jet downloading the aircraft log from the Flight Data Recorder, which involved squeezing into a rather tight space. All that to plug in the USB cable and to then balance the laptop on the palm of your right hand, whilst operating it with the left. You had tried to talk to Tony about moving the access point, seeing as it was a weekly task, but Pepper had walked past and diverted his attention. Judging by the way he immediately stalked after her, he hadn’t heard a word you said.

Thirty-seven percent through the download, the power in the jet cut out and you cursed. Setting the laptop down, you fumbled for your phone, turned on the torch and made your way through the jet to inspect the fuse box you knew was located just outside the cockpit. No light came in from the hangar, which seemed odd. Maybe it was another power outage that affected the whole tower. You tripped and the phone slipped from your grasp, landing somewhere face up.

“Not again…”

The panic started to rise in you once more. You felt too hot, the air seemed stuffy and heavy. Your breath came out fast and ragged. Hands outstretched, you bumped into something hard. Something that shouldn’t be there. You gulped as hot dread shot through your veins and took a step back. With lightning speed slender fingers wrapped around your wrists, tugging you forward to bring you flush against the hard body. Instead of consuming you, the panic ebbed off. Your body knew this touch. Though firm, it meant no harm.

You felt their chest rise and fall, a lot slower than yours. Slender fingers trailed up your arm, over your shoulder and neck. His fingertips skirted over the skin of your throat, goosebumps erupted all over your body. Someone released a slow breath - presumably you.

The fingers moved into your hair and curled around the base of your head, tilting it up. And then those wonderful lips were on yours again. This time, he angled your head to deepen the kiss. The taste and feel of his tongue moving against yours robbed you of your bones and you faltered, glad that his hands held you pressed so tightly up against him. He seemed hungry, needy. His lips left yours, trailing a few kisses over your jaw, before he rested his forehead against yours, noses touching for a wonderful moment, your short breaths mixing.

And then he was gone again. Your hands fell to your side and you blinked against the bright light in the jet that hummed over your head. Yet again you were left wondering what had just happened and, more importantly, why.

*****

“It only affected the hangar this time.” You pulled a book off the shelf in the shop.

“More hacking?” your best friend asked, finger searchingly running over the spines.

Shaking your head, you thumbed through the pages. “My coworkers told me.”

“So you’re saying he did it on purpose?”

Shrugging, you put the book back. “He knows magic, that’s what I’m saying.”

“Honey, I love you, but before you go down that obsession-rabbit hole, it’s my duty as your bestie to warn you. Just please be careful. This is Loki after all. Hm, where is it?”

“Whatever is that supposed to mean?”

The pitying look in your friend’s eyes was almost too much. “Oh where to start… He’s a god, immortal and several centuries older than you,” she counted off on her fingers.

“Actually,” you mumbled, “he is mortal. Asgardians just have a longer life span of about 5,000 years.”

Your friend blinked, surprised. “Who told you that? Dr Google?”

“Thor, actually. He had to fill in a form for the Quinjet learner’s licence and we joked about his age.”

“I love you, but you’re weird. Happy rabbit hunting then.” A victory cry fell from your friend’s lips as she pulled out what she was looking for and pushed it into your hands. “You want spicy? Here you go.”

“‘Three Swedish Mountain Men’?” you read.

She wiggled her brows. “They’re hot and they like sharing…”

You rolled your eyes, but put it on the pile of books you were getting anyway.

*****

Late shifts were your favourite, because it allowed you to actually get work done, without the phone going off every other minute. The only thing you didn’t like about them was walking back to your room afterwards.

It was 3am when the lift doors slid open and your shoes softly squeaked on the dimly lit corridor. Nightlighting mode, as Tony called it. You hated it and walked faster. Rubbing your stiff neck and rolling your shoulders, you rounded the corner. Just a few more metres to your door. But someone grabbed your hand and pulled you into the refuse room, which was pitch black.

Cool fingers were placed on your lips signalling you not to make a sound.

You nodded your head and the fingers moved from your lips, slowly, tracing. Then both hands were in your hair. His fingers cupped your head and you felt his breath against your lips. Your hands were on his chest, gripping the front of his t-shirt. Soft cotton. You closed your eyes.

“Please,” you said so quietly you thought he didn’t hear.

But he had and his lips brushed against yours, light as a feather. Your head was swimming, your heart aching. His touch was soft and gentle. He had kissed you before, but it was as if he was now seeing you, in the darkness of the refuse room, for the first time. Taking you in, kissing every inch of skin that was exposed. His lips grazed the knuckles on your hand and a lump formed in your throat.

His hands cupped your head and you felt his fingers fiddle with your hair bobble, before the restraint was gone and your hair hung loose. His hands combed through the strands. You couldn’t remember the last time someone did that.

Your hands ran over his biceps, his shoulders, his pecs, his abs. You wished you could say something, anything, but you feared you’d spoil the moment, that he’d pull away. His lips found yours again and he angled his head, his tongue slowly dancing with yours. It was the most erotic thing you had ever experienced.

He changed his footing to come at you from a different angle, pressing his body flush against yours. He peppered small kisses on the corner of your mouth and down your throat. He seemed to have found a spot he liked, because he sucked on it, his teeth grazing, lips easing the light bite. Before he pulled away, he inhaled deeply at the crown of your head, and placed a gentle kiss on your hair. You felt safe, basking in his warmth. And like the times before, he was gone.

By the time your legs felt stable enough to support you again, you opened the door and walked back to your room.

A smile crossed your lips as you realised that this was the first time you hadn’t panicked in the dark.

*****

“Maybe he’s shy?” your bestie suggested as you sat on her couch, both spooning ice cream out of the same tub.

Loki and shy were not words you would have put in a sentence together. But then, sometimes you were wondering if his aloof stance was just for show.

“Have you tried talking to him?” she asked.

You shook your head. “I could never work up the nerve. He seems… so unapproachable in the light of day. Maybe it all really is an elaborate prank.”

“Or,” your friend leaned forward, lowering her voice conspiratorially, “or he has the hots for you and just can’t find any other way to show it.”

You mulled this over for a while. “But why in the dark? Why isn’t he saying anything ever?”

“When do you see him?”

“At extended team briefings, but the Avengers come in last and sit at the front. Rogers requested it.”

Your friend rolled her eyes. “Any other time?”

“Well, in the hallways, but either he’s with someone or I am.”

“Meh. Where else?”

You leaned back, thinking. “In the canteen?”

“Okay, now we’re talking.”

“But, again, he’s always with someone.”

“Well… looks like you’re screwed.” She made a show of licking her spoon. “Or about to be screwed.”

She laughed as you threw a pillow in her face.

*****

It was just an autumn storm. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except for that it was five in the morning and had been going all night. You were standing by the window, looking out onto the soft glow of the city that never slept. Angry gusts of wind whipped big raindrops against the windowpane. Your breath misted against the cool glass. Normally, you slept through storms, but not this one.

The team had yet to return from a mission and you were worried sick. The mission was particularly perilous. You knew this because Tony had called you into his office, shut the door (something he never had done before) and told you that he couldn’t give you any information, but that ‘some serious shit is going to go down tonight’ and to trust - dramatic pause - him. It all was accompanied by a stare with which Tony seemed to try to convey a secret message. You guessed he didn’t mean himself, but Loki. Hence, you had chewed off all your nails for the last few hours.

When the door to your room opened, closed and footsteps approached, relief flooded through you. Not a moment later his hands were on your waist, pulling you back into his chest, his presence seeping through your pores. His arms curled around you, the slightly damp leather of his suit softly creaking, and your hands flew up to grip his forearms tightly. His head nestled in the crook of your neck, his lips soft against your skin.

“Thank heavens,” you whispered.

You couldn’t remember who moved first, but you found yourself up against the wall, his hands on your ass. Your legs wrapped around his hips that pushed into you; his mouth felt hot on yours. The kiss was all teeth and tongues. Desperation mixed with relief. A moan rang through the room - definitely yours - as you offered yourself up to him. And he took, greedily. His hands were everywhere on your body, pulling you close, pushing more into you, closer still. A disgruntled huff made it clear it wasn’t enough. And then his hands were under your hoodie, bare skin touching bare skin. A tug, a pull and the fabric was up and over your head, landing somewhere on the floor. His lips closed around your lace covered breast until he found your nipple and sucked on it.

Your hands weaved through his damp hair - if you had any fingernails left, they’d be scraping his scalp. Instead you tugged gently on the soft strands, eliciting a strangled moan from him. His hips rolled into yours, his desire evident and yours dampening your knickers. His hand slipped into your leggins, his fingers moving over the globe of your ass, slowly, squeezing, as his mouth was plundering yours.

The moment his fingers found your soaking centre, you both groaned. He slid two digits inside you, making you gasp. His hips rocked into you, the leather seams on his crotch providing friction for your clit. Your hands tried to fist in the leather, to get to feel his skin.

The orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, taking you by surprise, propelling you into oblivion. Loki grunted, his movements became jerky, before he stilled and rested his damp forehead against the crook of your neck. His hot breath puffed against your skin, and he just stayed like that, letting you run your fingers through his hair in a comforting rhythm. Then he slid his fingers out of you and gently placed your feet back on the ground. His forearm leaned against the wall behind you as he kissed you thoroughly, with a gentleness that made your eyes sting with unshed tears.

Your thoughts were going a mile a minute and you were thinking of what to do or say now. Would he stay the night or would he vanish again, like always? You heard the soft creaking of his boots as he moved through the dark room and then back to you, handing you your hoodie. You took it, fingers brushing his. The moment you pulled it over your head, your bedside light was on and you found yourself alone.

Again.

*****

The APU of the Quinjet was situated - as in most aeroplanes - in the tail. One of the reasons you were in charge of the upgrade of the jet’s internal bleed ducting was that you were small and slim. None of your co-workers could squeeze in there (thank you, Tony, for prioritising sleekness over practicality). Ironically, there was no air conditioning in this part of the jet. Droplets of sweat gathered on your forehead as you lay under the engine with your torch and toolkit, religiously running through the protocols.

“Five more checks, Y/N,” you heard your colleague, peering down at you from the moveable steps he was standing on, holding up the upper engine encasing with another work mate. A whistling noise became louder. “Then we can test– what the hell?!”

You lifted your head just as a massive explosion tore through the hangar. The space where your co-workers had been a second ago was swallowed up by a fireball. It felt as if the jet was airborne, tossed to the side, then came to a sudden stop. Metal screeched and groaned.

Your head hurt. A lot. There was a ringing in your ears and you just couldn’t see anything. It was dark, so dark. You wriggled backwards but to your horror realised that you were stuck, trapped between the engine and the jet wall. It felt like you were burning up and you tried to shout, scream for help, but you couldn’t get air in your lungs, no matter how hard you tried. Then, mercifully, you fainted.

When you came to, you were in the medical bay. It looked like a war zone, people lying or sitting on the floor, waiting to be seen. Some of them with burns and cuts, others in the bays next to you with drips and field surgeons around them. You spotted your two work mates, both with minor burns and a few bruises, but thankfully alive.

A few stitches on your forehead, one arm plaster casted and in a sling, and a packet of painkillers thrust in your good hand by a disgruntled, stressed out medic later, you limped your way out of there. Anything was better than sitting around in the sick bay, where there were people who were much more in need of a bed than you were. It also helped with getting away from the sight of the body bags that were quietly carried past you. Six, you had counted. The biggest attack on the Avengers Tower so far, people murmured. And the deadliest one.

In front of the debriefing room, you were handed a tablet and sat down. It was standard protocol after an incident like this: you filled in your report and then talked it through with your supervisor. End of. So you filled in the boxes and waited outside Tony’s office for your turn. As you walked in and sat down, he looked at you.

“You okay, Y/N?”

You gave a brief nod. He blinked and then tapped a few keys on his phone, before taking the tablet you held out to him.

“Let’s get this over with.”

In the middle of your interview, the door suddenly burst open. A very out of breath Asgardian god almost stumbled over the threshold, a stony expression on his face. He was like a vision from your dreams, donning his leather suit, covered in dust and blood - not his.

His eyes roamed over you as he stood in the doorway, lingering on your arm in the sling and the stitches on your face for a moment. Then his eyes met yours. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t looked into one another’s eyes before, but this felt different. Intimate.

In four strides he was next to your chair. He stretched out his hand and you placed yours in his, as if it was a practised gesture between you two. A gentle tug had you standing up.

“Loki…,” you started.

“I thought you were dead, love,” he murmured, voice rough, lifting your good hand to his lips to ghost a kiss onto your scratched knuckles. Your insides melted at the endearment and his gesture.

“I give you a thousand thanks, Stark,” he addressed the other man, eyes never leaving yours, “for alerting me that my beloved is okay and with you. However, Agent Y/L/N will have to finish the incident debrief at a later point. I require her presence for an extremely urgent personal matter.”

“Get outta here already, Shakespeare,” Tony grumbled, trying to hide a smirk. “Who’s next?”

But Loki didn’t pay him any heed. He gently cradled your face, his thumbs caressing your skin.

And there, right in front of Tony, with the door wide open for everyone in the very busy hallway to see, right there was the very first time that Loki kissed you in the daylight.

~fin~

[nasa]

The Artemis I Mission: To the Moon and Back

The Artemis I mission was the first integrated test of the Orion spacecraft, the Space Launch System (SLS) rocket, and Exploration Ground Systems at NASA’s Kennedy Space Center in Florida. We’ll use these deep space exploration systems on future Artemis missions to send astronauts to the Moon and prepare for our next giant leap: sending the first humans to Mars.

Take a visual journey through the mission, starting from launch, to lunar orbit, to splashdown.

Liftoff

The SLS rocket carrying the Orion spacecraft launched on Nov. 16, 2022, from Launch Complex 39B at NASA’s Kennedy Space Center in Florida. The world’s most powerful rocket performed with precision, meeting or exceeding all expectations during its debut launch on Artemis I.

"This is Your Moment"

Following the successful launch of Artemis I, Launch Director Charlie Blackwell-Thompson congratulates the launch team.

“The harder the climb, the better the view,” she said. “We showed the space coast tonight what a beautiful view it is.”

That's Us

On Orion’s first day of flight, a camera on the tip of one of Orion’s solar arrays captured this image of Earth.

Inside Orion

On the third day of the mission, Artemis I engineers activated the Callisto payload, a technology demonstration developed by Lockheed Martin, Amazon, and Cisco that tested a digital voice assistant and video conferencing capabilities in a deep space environment. In the image, Commander Moonikin Campos occupies the commander’s seat inside the spacecraft. The Moonikin is wearing an Orion Crew Survival System suit, the same spacesuit that Artemis astronauts will use during launch, entry, and other dynamic phases of their missions. Campos is also equipped with sensors that recorded acceleration and vibration data throughout the mission that will help NASA protect astronauts during Artemis II. The Moonikin was one of three “passengers” that flew aboard Orion. Two female-bodied model human torsos, called phantoms, were aboard. Zohar and Helga, named by the Israel Space Agency (ISA) and the German Aerospace Center (DLR) respectively, supported the Matroshka AstroRad Radiation Experiment (MARE), an experiment to provide data on radiation levels during lunar missions. Snoopy, wearing a mock orange spacesuit, also can be seen floating in the background. The character served as the zero-gravity indicator during the mission, providing a visual signifier that Orion is in space.

Far Side of the Moon

A portion of the far side of the Moon looms large in this image taken by a camera on the tip of one of Orion’s solar arrays on the sixth day of the mission.

First Close Approach

The Orion spacecraft captured some of the closest photos of the Moon from a spacecraft built for humans since the Apollo era — about 80 miles (128 km) above the lunar surface. This photo was taken using Orion’s optical navigational system, which captures black-and-white images of the Earth and Moon in different phases and distances.

Distant Retrograde Orbit

Orion entered a distant retrograde orbit around the Moon almost two weeks into the mission. The orbit is “distant” in the sense that it’s at a high altitude approximately 50,000 miles (80,467 km) from the surface of the Moon. Orion broke the record for farthest distance of a spacecraft designed to carry humans to deep space and safely return them to Earth, reaching a maximum distance of 268,563 miles (432,210 km).

Second Close Approach

On the 20th day of the mission, the spacecraft made its second and final close approach to the Moon flying 79.2 miles (127.5 km) above the lunar surface to harness the Moon’s gravity and accelerate for the journey back to Earth.

Cameras mounted on the crew module of the Orion spacecraft captured these views of the Moon’s surface before its return powered flyby burn.

Heading Home

After passing behind the far side of the Moon on Flight Day 20, Orion powered a flyby burn that lasted approximately 3 minutes and 27 seconds to head home. Shortly after the burn was complete, the Orion spacecraft captured these views of the Moon and Earth, which appears as a distant crescent.

Parachutes Deployed

Prior to entering the Earth’s atmosphere, Orion’s crew module separated from its service module, which is the propulsive powerhouse provided by ESA (European Space Agency). During re-entry, Orion endured temperatures about half as hot as the surface of the Sun at about 5,000 degrees Fahrenheit (2,760 degrees Celsius). Within about 20 minutes, Orion slowed from nearly 25,000 mph (40,236 kph) to about 20 mph (32 kph) for its parachute-assisted splashdown.

Splashdown

On Dec. 11, the Orion spacecraft splashed down in the Pacific Ocean off the coast of California after traveling 1.4 million miles (2.3 million km) over a total of 25.5 days in space. Teams are in the process of returning Orion to Kennedy Space Center in Florida. Once at Kennedy, teams will open the hatch and unload several payloads, including Commander Moonikin Campos, the space biology experiments, Snoopy, and the official flight kit. Next, the capsule and its heat shield will undergo testing and analysis over the course of several months.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

[medusapelagia]

12 Nothing left

written for @steddieangstyaugust (prompt: Terrible Things – Mayday Parade ) and @augustwritingchallenge (Prompt: animagus ) Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve/Eddie TW: mention of plane crash, mention of Steve’s parents death, suicidal thoughts, magic Words: 1735

The grumpy black cat shows at his door for the fifth night in a row, demanding loudly to be fed the fancy tuna Steve’s mom used to buy in the bio shop.

He has never had an animal and even if the cat is definitely a stray with no collar and probably full of fleas, he doesn’t seem eager to get a family. He wants his fancy tuna, nothing more.

Steve sighs, goes into the kitchen to grab a little dish and the can of tuna then he gets back and grabs some water too, and goes back to his backyard. The black cat is still there, staring at his reflection in the water like it was something unusual, but his pointed ears flinch when he hears the door slide open and turns toward Steve with a soft mew that makes Steve chuckle.

He doesn’t step closer until the food and the water are neatly positioned on the plates and Steve has moved away, staring at him from one of the deck chairs. The cat eats quietly, always very aware of Steve’s presence, and when he’s done he licks his thick black fur and then he blinks at Steve with his eyes so dark that they seem to hold all the secrets of the universe and then he disappears through the woods.

Steve sighs, realizing that the cat visits are the best moment of his day. In the last two weeks, his entire life was destroyed. He lost his place as the alpha male at school and his parents… 

He puts his hands into his hair and pulls until he chokes back the tears.

His parents are dead. The plane they rented to get on that stupid island never made it. They are dead somewhere in the ocean. No flight data recorder, no plane, no emergency call. Nothing. Just Cindy, his father’s secretary, calling him to give him the news.

And that’s not all. 

His father wasn’t the great businessman he pretended to be. He had so many debts that Steve would have to renounce his inheritance if he doesn’t want to drown in his debts. Still, he’s feeding a stray cat the best tuna in town and pretending that everything is fine.

The news of the accident didn’t make it on the news to protect Steve from debt collectors so none knows that he has nothing left. None knows that some days he wonders if it wouldn’t be easy for him to just put an end to his misery.

He was having those kinds of thoughts the first time the cat showed up. Big, furry, and loud. He has mewled until he got Steve’s attention and since that day he has shown up every night, at the same hour, when waves of despair fill Steve’s lungs, making breathing an unbearable task.

It’s just a coincidence, Steve isn’t so naive to believe that a stray cat is trying to save him, but he has found himself waiting eagerly for the elegant animal to come to visit. 

While Steve cleans the little plates he reminds himself that he should try to find a job, but that would mean that the entire town will know that he has nothing left and his stupid pride won’t let him. He sighs loudly. He has one week to leave the house, then it will be put on sale and he’ll have to start living in his car like a homeless guy at nineteen.

That’s not the life he thought was waiting for him.

A scratch on the door attracts his attention, and the big black cat is back, holding a lizard in his mouth.

Steve chuckles, opening the door to let him in, “Come on. I don’t bite.” Steve chuckles, while the cat weary gets inside, leaving his bloody prey on the Persian carpet. Steve will put it in the trash as soon as the cat leaves, but it’s nice seeing that at least he has a friend left.

“Milk?” he asks the cat, not really waiting for an answer but pouring some in a little plate while he grabs his beer, “You must be thirsty after your hunt.”

Steve cracks the beer can open while the cat slowly laps the milk.

“I’m having a hell of a week.” Steve complains, drinking his beer, “My parents died in a plane crash. They didn’t even have a funeral because there was no body to retrieve. They asked me if I wanted a commemoration ceremony but it didn’t make sense to bury two empty caskets in old Lord Harrington chapel, you know?” he drinks some more, “Oh, and I’m full of debts. And I’m going to lose the house soon. Hope the new owner will be kind to you. You’re a good guy. You even brought me a lizard.” Steve chuckles, grabbing another beer, and another until he’s too drunk to stand and he simply sits on the Valentino’s tiles his mom personally chose when they moved.

“I won’t even be present at the graduation ceremony. The Principal told me he’d have my diploma delivered where I wanted. But I have no idea where the hell I’m going to stay. Not here, that’s for sure, but I don't know how comfortable my car is for sleeping. Had a few hookups but never slept there. Not even once. Maybe I should have tried ahead. To be ready. And you have to take care, little friend.” Steve sighs, “I'm only telling you this because life can do terrible things. You can’t know it but I used to be sort of good at school, I was rich and famous and had the prettiest girl in school. Then another boy came and claimed my crown. My friends left me. My parents died. And all I’m left with is a car and a stray cat that loves my mom’s fancy tuna.”

The cat steps closely so slowly that for a moment Steve thinks that he’s imagining it, but after a few moments the cat is standing next to his feet, his dark eyes pointed at Steve like he had understood his entire discourse and he was sorry for him.

Those eyes are dark, so dark, almost magnetic. But he’s just a cat and Steve has drunk too much. He should go to bed.

“Yes, you should.” the cat says, and Steve giggles.

“Cats don’t talk. God I drank too much.” he decides, standing up and wobbling toward his room, moving one leg after the other but feeling that it's not him who’s ordering his limbs to move.

Bullshit.

He’s just drunk.

***

When he wakes up the next day the sun shines too brightly and he curses himself for drinking too much. On his night table, there’s a big glass of water and some Advil. At least past him foresaw that he was going to need them in the morning.

He slowly steps down the stairs, but he freezes: someone is singing in his kitchen. Steve grabs an umbrella from the umbrella rack and steps quietly into the kitchen. In front of the fires, cooking some eggs and bacon stands a beautiful man with long black hair and deep dark eyes.

“Good morning.” He says, smirking, and his teeth look a little bit too sharp.

“Who the fuck are you?!” Steve asks, holding the umbrella tight to his chest.

“Are you threatening me with an umbrella, Steve? For real?”

“How do you know my name?!”

“I know many things about you. And I know you had an awful week and that you need to eat something more than chips and candies. Sit down. It’s almost ready.”

“How did you get in?”

“You invited me.”

“I never did such a thing.”

The man turns with a little smirk, and his tongue flickers on his lower lips just for a moment in a very familiar way.

“This can’t be true. I must be still asleep!”

“What can’t be true?”

“You… your tongue… the cat… it’s not…”

“I need my opposable thumbs to cook, but I guess I can indulge you for a moment.” the man winks, and with a puff he disappears.

“Where the hell…?”

But when Steve circumnavigates the table the big black cat is staring at him with the same smirk the man had.

“Do you prefer this form? My uncle says I’m cuter like this.”

Steve startles and falls on the ground, hitting the floor harshly, while the cat steps closer to him, climbing his legs with ease.

“Hi, Steve. I’m Eddie. Nice to meet you. Now can you tell me where are you hiding that incredible tuna? I really enjoyed it.”

Steve points a shivering finger toward a kitchen cabinet, and Eddie gets down from his lap and turns back into a human to open the kitchen cabinet, “Here it is! I’m going to miss it when we move.”

“We… what?”

“My uncle is coming to visit soon, he’ll decide if you are one of us, but I already know you are.”

“One of you?”

“Animagus. Mages that can change into animals.”

“Am I?”

“Yes, you are, Eddie confirms, putting some eggs and bacon on a plate and offering it to Steve, “That’s how I found you.”

“I… I didn’t transform into an animal.”

“No, you didn't.” Eddie replies, nudging the plate closer to him, “But you almost did. I smell the stench of your despair from miles away. I just had to make sure before calling Wayne, don’t want to make the old man travel so long for a false alarm, you know?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Eat, Stevie.” Eddie insists, taking a chair and putting the tuna on a little plate but eating it with a fork this time, “Phoenix burn themselves when they’re desperate.” Eddie says, licking his lips, “And you almost did.” He explains, holding the fork and gesturing with it while he talks, “I thought you were a grumpy old man tired of living between normies. You can easily understand how surprised I was to see a young phoenix with no training abandoned in a huge and empty house.”

A knock on the window interrupts them and when Steve turns the biggest eagle he ever saw is staring at him with his head tilted to the side.

“Oh, that’s Wayne.  He’ll explain it better. Anyway, if he says you’re one of us you’re coming with us.”

“Where?”

“Home.”

[astrum99]

Do you think bugs fall in love?

Their small bodies host even tinier brains. Built to crawl through soil and rocks bigger than itself. Running on a simple software bouncing between eat, sleep, fight, flight, and copulate.

V1 is smarter than a bug. It must be. It’s a war machine, so it must be. Its programming is complex enough to fry several motherboards; the internals are heated from constant, unrelenting processing needs. If it updates its optical data intake to any greater degree than these rough, messy polygons, it’d surely perish from the overwhelming information.

V1 is built to kill first, survive second. To be fair, survival would ensure more killing, so it’d be more effective. Moving through the battlefield, culling lives, drawing blood. Perfectly aligned with its programmed objectives, then.

Gabriel is smarter than a bug. He must be. He’s an angel, so he must be. He’s one of the best soldiers in the heavenly realm. Armour and swords glistened with pride and justice. He sees all. He judges all. His loyalty and perfect track record have earned him a high rank within the order. Leaving behind the creaturely "it". His light burns hot and bright within his constitution.

Gabriel is built as a messenger of the Father, then a judge of Hell. To be fair, the role of a judge was assigned to him by the council, so he supposes that his placement can be summed up as the bearer of the divine authority to bring right to all other creatures. Perfectly aligned, then.

Bugs… Well, they’re the same. I suppose. Small beings. Running pre-programmed orders derived from centuries of evolution: eat, sleep, fight, flight, and copulate. No role. No responsibilities.

Bugs are built naturally and fully, unlike humankind; but formed and ready to go within seconds from their births, like machines and angels.

So. Do they live?

When the machine and the angel escape their chains, do they see themselves in bugs?

Bugs are born to live, temporarily, fleetingly, yet live nonetheless. Do they, then, deserve to live, freeing and meaninglessly. No role. No responsibilities.

So. Do bugs love?

Do they learn that they can go beyond their basic structures? Do they see their own reflection in each other’s compound eyes? Do they recognize each other’s bodies, scents, heat? Do they feel the desire for closeness?

To flutter wings like a dance of waltz. To brush antennae like butterfly kisses. To greet and caress and lie next to each other near their death.

To move through the sky in battle, in passion. To clash swords and fists and bullets. To greet and caress and lie next to each other near their death.

The same cells in the same blood coursing beneath the same suit of exoskeletons.

Machine, angel, bug. Boiled down to the barest essence of existence; crisp simplicity.

To live, to love.

[todaysdocument]

Position Description for Mercury Astronaut

Record Group 255: Records of the National Aeronautics and Space AdministrationSeries: Reference Files of the Special Assistant

[underline] SS - 6.3 [/underline] [Stamped: Space Task Group] B

NATIONAL AERONAUTICS AND SPACE ADMINISTRATION

1520 H STREET NORTHWEST

WASHINGTON 25, D.C.

TELEPHONE: EXecutive 3-3260, TW: WA 755

IN REPLY REFER TO -

[Stamped: RECEIVED NASA SPACE TASK GROUP JUN 19 2 01PM '59]

[manuscript] 3

[underline] S S- 6.3 [/underline]

SO-14

SP - 2.6 [/manuscript]

Lt. Paul P. Bennett, Jr.

BuPers - A3122

Arlington Annex, Rm. 2603

Washington 25, D. C.

Dear Lt. Bennett:

In accordance with our telephone conversation of June 15 the following is a resume of the position description for the Mercury Astronauts.

[underline] Position Title [/underline]: Mercury Astronaut

[underline] Duties [/underline]: Participates in indoctrination, developmental research, and pre-flight training programs under conditions simulating flight profiles of the type expected to be encountered with Project Mercury. Operates and/or observes fixed-base and moving-base simulator tests, serves as subject-under-test, and assists in the analysis of data for the evaluation and development of various boosters and of communication telemetry, display, vehicle-contol, envirornmental-control and other systems involved in launch, atmospheric escape, orbital flight, re-entry, landing and recovery. Participates in specialized training exercises such as centrifuge programs to build up tolerances to motions and forces associated with launch, flight without gravity, and atmospheric reentry, and to develop proficiency and confidence for vehicle operation under such conditions.

Sincerely yours,

/s/

Clotaire Wood

Technical Assistant to the Deputy Administrator

[Stamped Routing List]

BLAND

BOND

DONLAN

FAGET

GILRUTH

HAMMACK

JOHNSON [initialed: lwj]

KRAFT

KYLE

MacDOUGALL

MATHEWS

MAYER

MEYER

PRESTON

PURSER

RICKER

[strikethrough] TAYLOR [/strikethrough] [initialed: G]

ZAVASKY

ZIMMERMAN

AERO MED [initialed: HBf]

[initials: ATS]

SPACE FILES

[manuscript] COPIES TO:

SHEPARD

SCHIRRA

CARPENTER

GLENN

[usafphantom2]

The SR-71 was nicknamed the Sled* by a few people after Jerry O’Malley and Ed Payne dropped 60,000 feet over Vietnam in 1968. They were indicating that the SR 71 could not glide like a sled. It is not a term that we like the men who actually flew the SR 71 prefer Habu.

O’Malley and Payne have the distinction of logging the second combat sortie for their Blackbird. (They also have the honor of having the first successful combat sortie.) After refueling, they coasted near Saigon and headed north to cross the DMZ into North Vietnam.

Near the end of their run, a message was received to abort the remainder of the mission based on confusion in the command chain on exactly what President Johnson meant in a speech he made that day about restricting “strike” aircraft flights north of the 19th Parallel over Vietnam.

As O’Malley eased back on the throttles, both engines rumbled in a compression stall and immediately flamed out!

They were dropping fast over enemy territory.

Jerry pushed the nose down to get to the denser air needed for an air start of the big engines. They decided that if they could not achieve an air start at 23,000 feet, they would call it “MAYDAY” and bail out at 14,000 feet.

Attempts at 40,000 and 30,000 feet failed, and Ed Payne noted 26,000 feet. As he made ready for the call, he called out, “MAY. . .” the aircraft shook, and O’Malley said one engine had started. By the time they made 20,000 feet, Jerry had both engines “turning and burning.”

Jerry headed south and prepared for the descent. Jerry discussed at length the data he wanted Ed to record as they flew the normal profile back to the home base. When it came time to ease back on the throttles, the engines spooled down normally, and they landed back at Kadena without further incident.

*According to The Complete Book of the SR-71 Blackbird by Richard H. Graham, the Blackbird was dubbed ‘Sled’ because the U-2 pilots didn’t like calling the SR-71 by its proper nickname, so they came up with a derogatory name of their own, calling it the ‘Sled.’

I knew the O’Malley and the Payne family very well. They were like family to me.

Be sure to check out Linda Sheffield Miller (Col Richard (Butch) Sheffield’s daughter, Col. Sheffield was an SR-71 Reconnaissance Systems Officer) Facebook Pages Habubrats SR-71 and Born into the Wilde Blue Yonder for awesome Blackbird’s photos and stories.

@Habubrats71 via X

[dougielombax]

I wonder how long a black box could theoretically survive for.

I’ll need to look into that.

[reasonsforhope]

"There’s something deeply comical about suggesting that seagulls are smart enough to wait for you to look away before stealing your french fries, but dumb enough to fly into wind turbine blades.

A two-year study on the interactions of several seabird species at an offshore wind farm found that not a single case of birdstrike was recorded over the study period or in the 10,000 videos taken.

Looking at herring gulls, gannets, kittiwakes, and great black-backed gulls, Swedish state wind company Vattenfall found that most of the birds maintained a 50 to 230-yard distance between themselves and the radius of the spinning turbines.

“This is the first time that any kind of bird species has been studied this closely and in detail at an offshore wind farm,” said study author Henrik Skov. “And these birds are really good at avoiding the turbines. Now we need studies on more varieties.”

The study was conducted on a wind farm consisting of 11 offshore turbines near Aberdeen, Scotland. It used radar surveys and mounted video cameras to gather data.

Why these seabirds avoided the turbines could be down to the individual species observed since other studies have shown seabirds tend to rank high in offshore wind turbine mortality, and of medium risk for land-based wind turbine mortality.

Skov also offered that it could be the turbines are, for one reason or another, outside of prominent flight corridors, and therefore aren’t where birds have historically flown either for migration and nesting purposes, or feeding.

The study is a big milestone in scientists’ attempts to learn how and where to build wind turbines so that they don’t interfere with birds’ flight patterns. If there is something in the data of this study or future observations that could reveal the secret as to why there was no mortality at the Aberdeen wind farm, it could mean that hundreds of thousands of birds could be saved in the future."

-Good News Network, 3/31/23

[sgiandubh]

Hi!

Fitness Anon here…

The brand new photos of S’s pap walk in Soho today remind me of something I wanted to share with you about AM (now AD): Her husband plays football in Germany. About ten day ago there were reports in the yellow press about the get together of thee Munich players and their families as the Bundesliga sesason had ended.

AM was mentioned there with her baby. It was stated that she had previous relationships with other sport stars. None of these news mentioned her being linked to S.

https://www.bild.de/sport/fussball/fc-bayern-kennen-sie-die-alle-schon-das-sind-bayerns-neue-spielerfrauen-664c48952c12487f81715baf

Dear (returning) Fitness Anon,

I will translate the relevant part of that article. It's funny how S didn't make the Bild editor's cut, eh?

He should really stop wasting money on such #silly BS. Nobody - I repeat: NO-EFFIN'- BODY - gives a flying fuck anymore.

Ok, perhaps Data Lounge does give a (static) fuck, but this is what they do for just about everybody in showbiz. S's personal brand has seemingly gone from magic to trash. Let us hope it won't turn into a cautionary tale of sorts.

But onwards to Bild's article: 'Do you know all of them? These are the wives of the new players of the Bayern Munich'

[Photo legend: 'the Bayern star player Eric Dier with his model girlfriend Anna at the secret end-of-season party at the Käfer']

'Are you familiar with all these ladies?

Last Sunday [note: May 19th], FC Bayern organized a secret end-of-season party at Munich's upscale Käfer restaurant - despite the 2:4 defeat in Hoffenheim, the drop to third place in the Bundesliga and the first season without a title since 2012, the mood among the majority of guests was good.

It was a true family brunch! Featuring some lesser known faces... (....)'

Anna Dier: It was love at first sight for Eric Dier (30) and the South African model. After they became a couple in 2022, they got engaged in November of the same year and married in July 2023.

Shortly after, they announced on Instagram that they were expecting their first child. The baby was born at the end of January [2024]. The defender player shows loving care for the baby, as seen on the return flight from Madrid, after the 1-2 defeat in the match opposing the Real. Anna and the little one went there to support him!

Before meeting Eric Dier, Anna was in a relationship with Alexis Sanchez (35). The Chilean record international player formerly was active at Arsenal FC, Manchester United, Inter Milan and Olympique Marseille, among others.'

But... but...

Vielen Dank, dear Fitness Anon. Between three Tumblr trolls and Das Bild, I choose to believe Germany's best-selling daily newspaper, that's been around since 1952.

[monkeyssalad-blog]

X-15 Launch from B-52 Mothership by NASA on The Commons Via Flickr: This photo illustrates how the X-15 rocket-powered aircraft was taken aloft under the wing of a B-52. Because of the large fuel consumption, the X-15 was air launched from a B-52 aircraft at 45,000 ft and a speed of about 500 mph. This was one of the early powered flights using a pair of XLR-11 engines (until the XLR-99 became available). The X-15 was a rocket-powered aircraft 50 ft long with a wingspan of 22 ft. It was a missile-shaped vehicle with an unusual wedge-shaped vertical tail, thin stubby wings, and unique fairings that extended along the side of the fuselage. The X-15 weighed about 14,000 lb empty and approximately 34,000 lb at launch. The XLR-99 rocket engine, manufactured by Thiokol Chemical Corp., was pilot controlled and was capable of developing 57,000 lb of rated thrust (actual thrust reportedly climbed to 60,000 lb). North American Aviation built three X-15 aircraft for the program. The X-15 research aircraft was developed to provide in-flight information and data on aerodynamics, structures, flight controls, and the physiological aspects of high-speed, high-altitude flight. A follow-on program used the aircraft as a testbed to carry various scientific experiments beyond the Earth's atmosphere on a repeated basis. For flight in the dense air of the usable atmosphere, the X-15 used conventional aerodynamic controls such as rudder surfaces on the vertical stabilizers to control yaw and canted horizontal surfaces on the tail to control pitch when moving in synchronization or roll when moved differentially. For flight in the thin air outside of the appreciable Earth's atmosphere, the X-15 used a reaction control system. Hydrogen peroxide thrust rockets located on the nose of the aircraft provided pitch and yaw control. Those on the wings provided roll control. Because of the large fuel consumption, the X-15 was air launched from a B-52 aircraft at 45,000 ft and a speed of about 500 mph. Depending on the mission, the rocket engine provided thrust for the first 80 to 120 sec of flight. The remainder of the normal 10 to 11 min. flight was powerless and ended with a 200-mph glide landing. Generally, one of two types of X-15 flight profiles was used: a high-altitude flight plan that called for the pilot to maintain a steep rate of climb, or a speed profile that called for the pilot to push over and maintain a level altitude. The X-15 was flown over a period of nearly 10 years--June 1959 to Oct. 1968--and set the world's unofficial speed and altitude records of 4,520 mph (Mach 6.7) and 354,200 ft (over 67 mi) in a program to investigate all aspects of piloted hypersonic flight. Information gained from the highly successful X-15 program contributed to the development of the Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo manned spaceflight programs, and also the Space Shuttle program. The X-15s made a total of 199 flights and were manufactured by North American Aviation. X-15-1, serial number 56-6670, is now located at the National Air and Space Museum, Washington DC. NASA Media Usage Guidelines Credit: NASA Image Number: E-4942 Date: 1959

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Ortho Shroud - Bloom Birthday Vignette

"Happy Birthday"

[Ignihyde Dorm – Birthday Party Venue]

Ortho: It's like a dream come true to get interviewed for my birthday as a student here at Night Raven College.

Ortho: And on top of that, thanks to my big brother, I was able to retrofit my gear to look just like everyone else's outfits… I'm super happy.

Ortho: Oh yeah, I should make sure to capture all this on film. I wanna show this to my brother… Oh, and my dad and mom.

???: Film? …I suppose I'll have to ask later. Pardon me.

Sebek: Happy Birthday, Ortho. It seems I have been tasked with being your presenter today.

Ortho: Woah, hey! Sebek Zigvolt-san! Thank you. I look forward to it.

Sebek: Right… You mentioned just a moment ago that you would be capturing this on film. Essentially, does that mean you intend on recording my words and actions?

Ortho: Yep. And if you make any mistakes, maybe Malleus-san will end up seeing alll your embarrassing moments. You better do good.

Sebek: Humph, as if I would disgrace myself before someone like you. I shall read out the first question now.

Sebek: “Are you good or bad at flying?”

Ortho: Hmmm, that's a toughie. I mean, especially since I'm a humanoid…

Ortho: I can't just cast magic on a broom and fly like you or the other mages here.

Sebek: Hm? You mean to tell me that you do not usually use magic to float in the air?

Ortho: Yeah. It's more like technomantic energy… Maybe it'd be easier to say it's a hybrid of electricity and magic.

Ortho: By swapping out my gear or any attachments, I can increase my speed, or even fly for longer periods of time.

Ortho: For me, as long as I have technomantic energy, I can fly wherever I want…

Ortho: I can even fly no problem through difficult obstacle courses, or fly at a constant speed.

Ortho: That's why for a little while after I became a student at Night Raven College, I made sure to observe the flight and P.E. classes.

Ortho: Unlike you guys, it's not like I would gain any stamina or strength through training, after all.

Sebek: You were observing us? I suppose I do recall seeing you flying with some of the students last week or so.

Ortho: Oh, so you saw me. Actually, I recently started helping out by supporting Vargas-sensei during his classes.

Sebek: You're supporting…? As in, as his assistant?

Ortho: Yep. During flight classes, I fly along my classmate's brooms and capture data on their form and time.

Ortho: Using that data, I'm able to identify everyone's habits and weaknesses and provide suggestions for improvement.

Sebek: Hm… That would indeed be helpful to be able to get an objective analysis of my flying posture.

Ortho: Right? And Vargas-sensei praised me too, saying, "When you're around, the students' muscles gleam even brighter"!

[Ignihyde Dorm – Birthday Party Venue]

Sebek: Next question is…

Sebek: “What is something that made you glad you could use magic?”

Ortho: Eehh, that's another tough one.

Ortho: I might have been able to develop a soul that can use imagination like you guys, but it's not like I can actually use magic…

Ortho: Because all of my functions are based on technomantic energy…

Ortho: But if I were to answer as a student of a mage institute should… IT'D HAVE TO BE THAT I'VE MADE FRIENDS HERE!!

Sebek: You're a student of the most prestigious Night Raven College, and your answer is to speak of the friendships you've developed?

Ortho: Yep. Because I came here originally as one of my brother's "gadgets," I was able to meet a ton of living people…

Ortho: And now that I've started taking classes as a student, I've had the opportunity to come in contact with so many more people.

Ortho: I had a ton of fun with the groupwork we had the other day. You know, the one where we had to study up on some of the legends of the Great Seven.

Ortho: You did that in your class too, right?

Sebek: Indeed. I found writing a report in a group of 4 to be a rather impractical assignment.

Ortho: Oooh, so you don't find group work to be practical, huh. Interesting.

Sebek: From the way you speak, it seems to me like you look upon that sort of assignment favorably.

Ortho: Yep. Whenever I listen to other people's opinions, even if we're reading the same story, everyone has a different interpretation, so I find that super fascinating.

Sebek: Interpretation?

Ortho: I guess I could also say that everyone values different things.

Ortho: And then I realized that the thought that everyone puts the most value in is strongly connected to their past experiences… their "memories," so to speak.

Ortho: For example, if you were born and raised in Briar Valley, you would've probably heard so many anecdotes of the Thorn Fairy from a young age.

Ortho: That's why there would be more passion, more zeal in the discussion about her.

Ortho: And some may believe that their idealized versions are more correct than a proper database.

Sebek: Idealized, you say? The Thorn Fairy is absolutely a great being. No amount of praise would ever be considered to be too much.

Ortho: If you're that adamant, then we should have a discussion about it sometime.

Ortho: During class the other day, I sourced documents from my database and soundly destroyed all the inconsistencies in their arguments…

Ortho: So I wonder just how far you'll be able to keep up with me, Sebek-san.

Sebek: Don't you put me in the same category as your classmates. I have read an abundance of books on the Thorn Fairy.

Ortho: Oooh, so you're saying you might actually have a leg to stand on. Then this might actually be promising.

Ortho: Alright, then let's pick a day for our discussion sometime later. Heheh, I'm looking forward to it.

[Ignihyde Dorm – Birthday Party Venue]

Sebek: This is the final question.

Sebek: “How do you spend your days off?”

Ortho: Hmm, there's a lot I do, but… I guess I often find myself watching movies or stage plays online.

Ortho: Recently, though, I've been spending lunch or tea time with my dorm and classmates.

Sebek: Lunch and tea time? You don't eat, though.

Ortho: Yep. But my goal there is to just chat with everyone. I also listen to their grumbles about their studies or relationships with others.

Sebek: Humph, how absurd. What good will come of listening to other people complain? Why don't you try spending your time doing something more worthwhile?

Ortho: Ehh, but it's pretty interesting. Just by watching how people react over every little thing helps me learn, too.

Sebek: What do you mean, learn?

Ortho: I've found that all the stories I hear from people are really good references for me to look back to whenever I need to act a part.

Sebek: Act a part…? Ah, right, you joined the Film Research Club. So essentially, you're saying you're feeding off of human interactions.

Ortho: Ah. This past weekend, we didn't have a club meeting, so I went into town with my brother.

Sebek: Your br… YOU MEAN TO TELL ME IDIA-SENPAI ACTUALLY WENT OUTSIDE!?

Ortho: Yep!

Ortho: We play this one game that uses our phones' GPS function, so sometimes we head out there together.

Ortho: We'll go to a restaurant that's an in-game spot where we'd be able to gather items and pick up some food that we'd already ordered online…

Ortho: And once we get to Whistle Park, we'd eat at one of the benches there. After that, we'd plan out the rest of our day there.

Ortho: And then, when he's done eating, we'll walk around the park looking for items, or have some encounter battles.

Ortho: Kinda sounds fun, like a real picnic, right?

Sebek: I can't say I know what game you speak of, but… It definitely does seem like you have a good time.

Sebek: Back home, my parents, older brother and older sister would always take me to the park to spend time.

Ortho: Heh, sounds like you and your family are pretty close, too. That's just like us!

Ortho: Me and my brother, as well as our dad and mom, used to go play at the nearby park, or even at a forest or river back in the day, too.

Ortho: …Although ever since my brother started to shut himself inside his room, we haven't been able to go anywhere as a family anymore.

Sebek: Well, it seems Idia-senpai has gotten to the point where he can actually go outside again. Perhaps there will come the time that you will be able to travel somewhere as a family again?

Sebek: That person needs to leave the house more. You should do what you can to take him out camping, traveling, or what have you.

Ortho: Yep, you're right. Sebek-san, thanks for your advice!

Sebek: I'm your presenter, after all! It's only natural that I should be able to present this sort of advice.

Sebek: You may come ask me anything you wish when you plan to take your family on a trip outdoors.

Sebek: The interview has now concluded. Here, your broom. There are blue flowers in the center of the bouquet, it suits you rather nicely.

Ortho: Woah, this is my first ever personal broom! I didn't actually think I'd get one.

Ortho: There's so many different kinds of flowers here. I'll have to fly carefully so as to not blow them away with my jets.

Sebek: Take this broom and take flight. That is testimony to your status here as a student of the most prestigious Night Raven College.

Sebek: Don't you dare show us a shameful sight on your birthday, Ortho.

Ortho: Of course! Make sure you keep your eyes on me while I fly, Sebek Zigvolt-san!

Ortho: it's time to show off the special gear that I made specifically for today. I'm totally gonna shock everyone who gathered here for me.

Requested by @rotattooill.