#Mechanical engineer jobs in florida

[formulaforza]

miss americana & the heartbreak prince

—01. all american girl —word count: 6.4k —warnings: none :) —a/n: this is queued so I'm sound asleep right now but trust when I wake... I will be throwing up about having posted this

It’s nine in the morning on Friday, and the kindergarteners at Robinson Elementary are getting picked up from the gymnasium and taken to their classroom to start their day. It’s nine in the morning on Friday, and their teacher, Chris Elliott, is running four minutes late to the first day of the U.S Grand Prix. Her fingers flatten down stray flyaways, working in tandem with the extra strength hairspray she found in the back of the Walgreens beauty aisle last night. Her makeup is strewn about in chaos atop the stark white marble countertops, a single folded piece of toilet paper in the trash can, remnants of her lipstick kissed onto the fibers. 

She played it safe on the outfit today, still hasn’t been able to pinpoint exactly what the dress code for this race is supposed to be. Her Dad has been no help–he can get away with wearing jeans and a short-sleeve button-up just about anywhere he goes. More is expected from her, though. Three days, three outfits, always walking the line between casual streetwear and Kentucky Derby without a fascinator. She settled for something painfully classic and American, figured a European sport would be eating up the concept of everything being bigger in Texas. Levi’s, a white tank top, and a beat up pair of cowboy boots should do a good enough job at letting anyone curious know she’s authentically American, without screaming out for attention. That’s the goal for the weekend; blend in and keep Dad company. 

Dad, who is not-so patiently tapping his foot against the floor, watching pre-race coverage of the Dixie Vodka 400 on his iPhone 7,  is a guest of honor for Ferrari this weekend. It was a classic Bill Elliott commitment, one he makes and then forgets about until he’s getting sent an email a month ago to remind him. One he makes when he forgets his son is racing the same weekend. That’s how Chris ended up here with him, instead of her Mom or instead of Chase or Chandler. They’re all in Florida for the Cup Series. Well–Chandler isn’t. Chandler’s at her hot-shot job in the big city living her life blissfully away from racing. 

She can count on a single hand the amount of times her dad has missed a Cup Series race in the years since his retirement. Even if he’s moved on from driving the track, racing is in Elliott blood. It comes easier to them than breathing does. Chris won’t be the first to admit it, but she's the NASCAR nepotism equivalent of a Baldwin baby. She’s no Kennedy, the first-families of NASCAR are closer to the Petty’s and the Earnhardt’s, but, you ask a NASCAR fan about the Elliott Clan and you’re sure to get an earful. Champion, Hall-of-Fame inductee father, supergenius transmission and engine mechanic uncles, and a superstar fan-favorite older brother, the Elliott family racing history spans generations of fans.

Never the Danica Patrick-type, Chris has always preferred to watch the races rather than compete in them, but she still grew up at the track and was always up for a trip to visit her dad at the auto-shop. 

“Mums,” her dad says, peeking his head around the corner into the hotel bathroom. It’s a stupid nickname, Mums, Chrysanthemum. She’d roll her eyes if it was anyone but Bill still calling her by it. “We gotta go, darlin’.” Chris nods at him in the mirror, flattens her hands along her thigh and tucks one final strand of her bang behind her ear, and then they’re finally leaving the hotel for the track. 

It’s a strange kind of first for Chris, in that it’s not really a first at all. She’s been to COTA before, multiple times. Hell, she watched in the garage when Chase won the inaugural Cup Series race here in May last season. She’s even been to the U.S Grand Prix before, back when it was still in Indianapolis, when Chris was too young to remember if it was big or if she was just little. She’s used to the crowds, spends almost every weekend with upwards of fifty-thousand people, but this? This is the kind of crowd she can’t fathom being among, and it’s only Friday. If it takes them an hour and a half to get through traffic on a practice day, she can only imagine what the next two mornings have in store for her. 

“No antics today,” Bill tells her in the car. “They’re not like us. Trust me, I know.”

Last time you went to one of these races, you were still a driver, she wants to tell him, but doesn’t. He doesn’t take well to the implication he’s an old man. Walking into the paddock with a yellow pass hung around her neck, FERRARI-GUEST-17 and a picture of the team logo popping up on the screens at the turnstiles, she’s beyond taken back by the pomp and circumstance of it all. She’s barely through the entrance and she’s already spotted half a dozen people who could buy her without it making a dent in their pockets. It’s nothing like walking around a NASCAR track. There isn’t a single Bud Light knight or backs sunburnt into American flags or t-shirts turned muscle tanks. It’s just… rich people. Lots and lots of rich people. 

In the Paddock Club tent, Bill manages to find a couple of his old buddies. Guys he raced with back in the day who’ve turned up for whatever with whoever this weekend. It’s unsurprising, stock car racing is nowhere near as exclusive a club as Formula One. They aren’t any of the guys Chris remembers being a part of her childhood, none of them pseudo-uncles in the way some other drivers were. You’re all grown up, they tell her, note her height and her features and one of them even asks if she’s in college yet. She plays along, pretends she remembers them fondly and that they haven’t been on the recipient list for the annual Elliott family Christmas newsletter for the past thirty or so years. His buddies are much more comfortable talking about Chase, anyways, about his racing and his fiancee and his little boy than they’ve ever been talking about Chris or Chandler. The concept of a quote-en-quote girl dad wasn’t such a thing in the nineties.

Chris makes small talk with one of the wives. They can’t be that far apart in age, she’s definitely of a different generation than her husband. Gross. Chris lets the woman lead the conversation; she talks about the polka dots on her skirt and Chris’ cowboy boots that are, apparently, perfectly authentic. 

They separate from the group of former NASCAR drivers and their child brides within the hour. Bill has to be in Ferrari hospitality by one o’clock for a special meeting. He’s still not sure what he did to get selected for this specific group of people who get to do a hot lap with one of the Ferrari drivers, but he isn’t about to ask any questions that might get him out of it. He sets off to hospitality and Chris sneaks out of the paddock and into the rest of the track. 

There’s only so much to see inside the paddock. Hospitality after hospitality after hospitality, just in different colors with different modern structures with pictures of different cars. She wants to experience the event, not just the rich people who can pay their way into the upper echelon of the pinnacle of motorsport. If she’s going to be on her own for an hour and a half, she might as well be fully and truly on her own. 

She ends up in the beer garden. More specifically, the bar tent. You can’t separate a NASCAR fan from the Natty Light. The pass around her neck gets her into the VIP area of the tent, which… feels like an antithesis of itself.  Her phone buzzes in her back pocket when she’s waiting on her bottle from the bartender. It’s her dad. 

Brad Pitt is here. Crazy. 

She makes quick acquaintances with a couple who looks about her age. She compliments the girl’s denim jacket and then she’s in. The DJ is playing country music with a techno backtrack at the other side of the tent and they all three spend a good fifteen minutes trying to decide if they love or hate the set. “It’s not the worst thing I’ve ever heard,” the guy says. 

“It’s definitely not the best, though,” Chris winces, spots a Ferrari pass hanging with the VIP one around the girlfriend’s neck. “Are you guys here with Ferrari?” She asks. 

“Oh, “ she says, looks down at the pass and fiddles with it for a moment. “Yeah, Will’s a golfer and they invited him for a tour and to do this golf event with ESPN.”

“Oh, that’s sick!” Chris nods. “Have you guys ever been here, or is this your first time?”

“We’ve come every year for…” Will starts, looks to his girlfriend for the rest of his sentence. 

“Four years,” she nods. “What about you?”

“This is my first time,” Chris explains, leaves out the technicalities because she barely cares about them, doesn’t expect a stranger to even half-care. “My dad’s here with Ferrari, and I’m here to babysit my dad.” She laughs. 

The woman nods, makes a quiet ah sound. Will asks for clarification. “You guys lose each other, or something?”

Chris nods. “Or something.”

Charles sees her before he hears her. She appears in his peripheral on the top floor of Ferrari Hospitality, moving swiftly through the groups of strangers with a confidence that makes you think she owns the place. He half-prepares to excuse himself from his current conversation–not that he’s understanding more than forty-percent of the words coming out of this guy’s mouth–to take a photo with the short brunette bee-lining it over to him. 

“Excu–”

“I think I saw Brad Pitt on my way here,” she says, and the man he’s been talking to for fifteen minutes laughs. Oh, he thinks, that’s mortifying. She’s not here to intrude on his conversation and ask for a picture. She’s here with this guy. 

“This is my Chris,” Bill says. 

“Hi,” Chris says. Chris. Chris. Chris is a woman. A woman extending her hand, thin and well manicured with a single ruby ring, for him to shake. “Chris.”

“Charles,” he says, hesitates. “You are not what I was expecting.” 

There wasn’t much he understood from Bill Elliott during their hot lap, not that Bill didn’t talk. Charles just didn’t have the focusing capabilities to drive the car in an entertaining way while also deciphering the thick southern drawl of the man sat in the passenger seat. It was thick, heavy, and sounded like maybe he’d smoked a pack a day for a few years. That, or he was straight-up making up words in a bit that only he was in on. One thing he did understand, though, was the kids’ names. I have three, he’d said, Chandler, Chase, and Chris. He’d assumed all boys. Chandler, Chase, and Christopher. Christian. Cristiano. The last thing he was expecting was a beautiful girl with a firm handshake. 

“You were expecting me?” She asks, and her voice is a million times easier to understand than her father’s. 

“No, no. He just,” He gestures absently to Bill. Chris doesn’t break eye contact. She has wonderful eyes. “I thought Chandler, Chase, and Chris are three brothers.”

“Oh,” She laughs like it’s not even close to the first time she’s had to follow behind her dad and correct the miscommunication, and a piece of her bangs falls loose from its tucked position behind her ear. She fixes it without thought. “Well, you’re one for three.” 

She asks Bill about the hot lap, asks if he had fun and he laughs. They’re very laugh-oriented people, he’s noticed. Laughy and almost intimidatingly good at holding eye contact. He’d always heard Americans had an issue with eye contact, and if that really is the case, these two practice their active-listening skills enough for the rest of the country. Their kindness is in their expressions, soft eyes and small smiles that keep you from feeling like an intrusion on the conversation. He notes all of his findings internally, categorizes them together as if he’s spent the last ten minutes looking at anyone but her. 

She’s horrendously his type. It’s painfully apparent with every passing moment. The hair and the face and the build and the smile. Just, God.

“Why didn’t you do one?” He asks, “A lap?”

“The need-for-speed bug skipped the women in my family, unfortunately.” She tucks her hair again. He wonders if she’s growing it out or if she always keeps it at such a length that it’s just too short to stay where she wants it to. 

“We could go slow,” he offers and she chuckles, closing her eyes long enough to roll them without him actually seeing them roll. 

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’ll be fun, I promise.” He’s never been good at flirting, always found it off-putting in the beginning, trying to walk the line between what one person finds fun and another person finds horribly uncomfortable. Once the dust settles, he can manage, but making those first few moves? He might as well be a deer in headlights. Semi-truck headlights. 

“I don’t know,” she says, drags out the vowel sounds and he’s oblivious to whether or not she can tell he’s only making this offer as a chance to spend more time with her. He’ll get an earful for it, no doubt, but if she agrees it’ll be worth it. Bill chimes in, eggs her on with a guilt trip. You should do it, don’t be a party-pooper. Charles wonders if Bill can tell he’s flirting with his daughter. Probably not, he’d bet. “Okay,” she says, and his stomach does a celebratory flip. Before he can say anything more, Mia is pulling him off somewhere. He hadn’t even seen her coming, but he fills her in on the walk.

“Domani c'è un'aggiunta al programma dei giri veloci.” There’s an addition to the hot laps schedule tomorrow, he says. Mia glares at him and he pretends not to notice, flashes her a toothy-grin as an unapologetic apology. 

When she’d agreed to do a hot lap with the gorgeous racing driver standing a foot away from her, she assumed it would be forgotten the moment he stepped away from the conversation. She never would have agreed to it if she actually thought it was going to happen. Chris was sorely mistaken though, when later that afternoon, a man dressed head-to-toe in Ferrari red finds her to gather her information. 1:10, he tells her through a thick Italian accent, be in hospitality at 1:10. 

It was wonderful, really. Perfect, fantastic, great, legendary. This is an amazing opportunity. She isn’t going to regret agreeing to this, no chance. Even for the queen of optimism, this one is hard to put a positive spin on. 

There is no underestimating just how much Chris hates going fast. She’s never liked it, spent the majority of her childhood getting carsick in a vehicle maxing out at forty miles an hour. Her sister and brother used to think she was faking it just so she could always ride shotgun. She’s not even allowed to drive the car if she’s with her dad or her brother because they can’t bear it. To her, a speed limit is just that, a limit. To everyone else, it’s a minimum. 

Her only hope is that she doesn’t vomit all over an expensive supercar at 1:10 tomorrow afternoon, or worse–the cute guy driving the car. 

In the meantime, she can distract herself with the Green Day performance and remind herself that only so much can happen in five minutes. Anyone can survive five minutes. 

– – –

They eat the continental breakfast at the hotel the next morning. Bill has pancakes and Chris has cereal because, as she’ll tell anyone, there’s just something about cereal from a plastic container. She’s also three coffees ahead of where she was this time the day before, all of her nerves personifying themselves as desperation for caffeine. She’s responding to a work email on her phone while Bill has a call with Chase. 

Somewhere on a race track in Florida, Chase is calling between practice and qualifying sessions. They talk every day during a race weekend–Bill and Chase–and it’s almost never about racing. Her dad might drop an occasional that’s not what I would’ve done or a well, that looked like fun, but that’s usually the end of race-talk. They used to fight like cats and dogs about driving when Chase was younger, so much so that Chris’ mom banned them from talking about racing inside the house for three straight years. The who of them are better now, now that Bill’s been able to let Chase find his own way and go through his own racing journey. 

“Your sister is doing a Hot Lap today,” Bill says, and Chris can hear Chase’s laughter from the muffled speaker. 

Bill and Chris are driven to the track on Saturday because traffic is so bad. It’s hot and windy and Chris has her window rolled down the entire drive, her fingers dancing through the dry air. She’s always loved the heat, the sun shining down on her skin, kissing her in a million different places all at the same time. She loves the heat, and the heat loves her. 

The morning flies by. They start the day with a tour of the Ferrari garage, where they’re introduced, or re-introduced, to their drivers. They end up with a couple other very important people hunched over Charles’ car while he explains how much pressure needs to be applied to the brake pedal for the car to actually brake. Bill eats the semantics up, cars and their mechanics run thick in his blood, braided deeply into his DNA. Chris, however, has always enjoyed the more delicate things in life; the pink hair bows and the dollar store makeup kits and spinning herself dizzy in a flowy summer dress. She never spent exorbitant amounts of time at Dad’s engine shop or Grandpa’s Ford Dealership, it just wasn’t in her lane of interests. She sips another coffee–her fifth of the day–and listens attentively to Charles talk, bites her smile at his wild gesticulations. He’d make a good kindergarten teacher, she thinks, with his huge personality. 

When the whole tour group is being shuffled out of the garage to be replaced by a new set of prying eyes, Charles makes a passing comment. See you later for the world’s slowest hot lap, he remarked, put his hand on her shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze as he moved past her. 

She doesn’t know why, but she’d convinced herself that it wouldn’t actually be him she would be doing the lap with. It was qualifying day, after all. Surely, he had about a million and one better things to be doing than driving a random girl around a track a few times. She figured it would be a driver, but not one of the drivers. 

After lunch, she makes her way back to Ferrari hospitality, to where she was told to be waiting at 1:10. She’s the only person who looks like they’re here on instruction. Nobody else is nervously picking at their cuticles or vibrating in place as a reaction to their seven coffees that morning.

She spent the night before grilling her dad about his experience, forcing him to give her a moment-by-moment breakdown of everything he remembered happening, from the safety briefing to the conversation afterwards. But, when it came time for Chris to actually do hers, there was no safety briefing warning her about the million different ways she could die. Instead, the same man who’d tracked her down the day before escorted her from the top floor of hospitality to the bottom, out the back into what she can best compare to an alleyway, and then to a red supercharged Ferrari. 

Charles is there, talking to what appears to be a personal photographer and another man dressed in Ferrari garb. She re-introduces herself for a third time in twenty four hours. “I know your name, Chris,” Charles says, smiles and shakes her hand anyway. She doesn’t like the way her brain reacts to him saying her name like it belongs on his lips. 

“Duh,” she laughs, “sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“Right,” she nods. “Yeah, sorry.” Charles laughs out a sigh, cocks his head and smiles. Chris bites her tongue not to apologize again. It’s a reflex. She puffs out her laugh and shrugs. 

If she manages to make it out of these couple laps with her life and the contents of her stomach still intact, she’s sure to still look like a clown–a fact she realizes as she pulls the tight helmet over her head. She’s worn racing helmets a handful of times, but it’s not muscle memory to her in the way it is to him. It takes her a minute to tighten the chin strap just right and despite his genuine offer to help her, Chris turns him down and blindly works her fingers under her neck until it’s just right. 

“Why don’t you get a fun Hot Laps helmet?” She asks while she fights with the strap. 

Charles knocks on the side of his helmet with his knuckle. “Custom fit. Safety reasons.”

Chris knows, she was just messing with him. She nods like she never could’ve guessed that was the reason. “My safety doesn’t matter?” She comments, pulls the strap tight for the final time. 

“You think I’m going to crash?”

She shrugs. “Maybe.”

“I would never crash with Chris Elliott in the car.” There he goes again, saying her name all annoyingly French and nice and easy. 

“Whatever,” she says, turns away so he can’t see her squished cheeks flush pink against the polyester. He opens the passenger side door for her, knocks his knuckle on her helmet this time, and horribly mocks both her words and accent before shutting the door behind her. 

Chris has her seatbelt buckled before he can get around the front of the car and into his seat. Her leg bounces anxiously against the floor mat. Charles starts the car and moves to shift into drive, but stops short. “Are you scared?” he asks, and in a moment of vulnerable honesty, she nods. She’s more than scared. She’s terrified, and despite his brief attempt to reassure her that it’s going to be fun, her leg is still bouncing when they peel off from the group already awaiting his return. 

A hot lap, she’d come to learn in the last day or so, would be more accurately referred to as hot laps–plural, multiple, several. Three, to be exact. One out lap, one push lap, and one cool down lap. Three laps. Hot laps. They should really start referring to it as a plural. 

The best thing she can compare it to is a roller coaster. The turns share the feeling you get at the tipping point, right before your body thinks you’re free falling. Her stomach is left behind three turns back and it never really catches up to the car once they start. The straights are like that first hill, fast and crazy in a way that pulls from her lips screams she hears before she consciously chooses to release. It’s like a roller coaster, if the person sitting next to you is completely unaffected by the ride and spends the entire time trying to carry out a conversation with you between your screams and their giggles. It’s like a roller coaster, if the cart never leaves the ground. 

On the cool down lap, when they’re going at a speed that allows Chris to pick up her soul when they drive through turn four, he asks her if she’s single. It comes at her from left field. 

“Are you flirting with me?”

He laughs, takes a hand off the wheel and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yes!”

“Oh,” she says softly. If he notices the surprise in her tone, he doesn’t mention it. “I am.” 

“Can I get your number?” She swears that his fingers are shakier than before as they hover over the paddle shift. They were sure-footed just minutes earlier, she’s sure of it. She’s sure of it, but there’s no way it’s a genuine observation. There’s no way she’s making him nervous. 

She laughs, because what on God’s green Earth is a European Formula One driver going to do with a small town American girl’s phone number? 

“I’m not abandoning my dad for a hookup,” she says, and he rolls his eyes, repeats the question. “Why do you want it?”

“Because, Chris Elliott,” she wants to scrape the way he says her name out of his voice box and pin it in a scrapbook. It’s like a tick, the way it burrows into her skin. Nobody should be allowed to make her name sound like that. “You are a very beautiful girl, and when a guy sees a beautiful girl, they act like an idiot and ask for her number.” 

“Oh, my God,” she giggles, shakes her head and looks out the window like it might ground her, or like it might reveal that she really is in some fever dream state and none of this is real. She’s not even in Texas, maybe. That’s how insane this whole conversation is to her. 

“Too cheesy?” He asks, grimaces. She shakes her head, holds her hand out for his phone. 

“Just cheesy enough.”

When they get back to where they started, someone asks Chris if she’d had a good time. She nods, flattens down the static-electricity charged flyaways on her head and tells them yes, even if she’ll be just a little bit nauseous for the rest of the day. It’s not a lie, either, she did have fun. She was scared out of her mind, but in a way that makes her happy she did it. 

They pose for a photo together in front of the car, the picture snapped by the only guy with a camera around his neck, the only one besides Chris not covered head to toe in Ferrari branding. When they pose, Charles’ arm wraps around her lower back and, almost like he remembers himself in the middle of the action, his hand doesn’t close around her side. Instead, it hovers just beyond her body, open and stiff and flat. How gentlemanly. “Good luck tomorrow,” she says.

He nods his thanks, “I hope I see you around this weekend,” he adds, and then they go their separate ways. Good thing, too, because she’s still blushing over it when she gets back to her dad in the Champion’s club. Bill is too distracted by the live feed on Chase’s qualifying laps on his tiny phone screen to notice Chris’ presence, much less the coloring of her cheeks. He qualifies third and they celebrate quietly with drinks from the bar and FP3 on the big screens. 

They stumble into more NASCAR old-timers while in the Champion’s Club and Chris spends the time fifth-wheeling their conversations about Chase and watching the second half of qualifying on one of the TVs. 

She doesn’t really understand the format of the weekend. In theory, she understands the basics, didn’t have to read Formula One for Dummies on the plane ride over, but the intricacies of it are beyond her. In NASCAR, drivers are split into two groups and then are only given, at max, two laps to set their qualifying times. It varies depending on the track that weekend, but it always hits some of the same points. From what she can gather from the low-volume televisions mounted on every surface around her, F1 is definitely different. 

They head back to the hotel directly after qualifying to ‘beat the traffic’ which is code for Chris is still nauseous and they’re both feeling a little too heat exhausted. They stop for dinner on the way back, at a barbeque place right by their hotel. Bill orders the chopped brisket with potato salad and Chris gets the pulled pork sandwich with a tomato zucchini salad. 

Chris has been really busy with work, with settling into the new routine with her new group of students, and Bill wants to hear all about it. She always struggles in September and October, feels inadequate every time the other teachers find their footing with their new class weeks before she does. It’s the first time alotta ‘em have been in a school, Bill reminds her and she shrugs it off, tries to find something more upbeat to talk about. 

Chris and Bill have really gotten close over the past couple years. Growing up, she and her sister Chandler were massive daddy’s girls, had him wrapped around their little fingers from the moment they came into the world. But, when Chase started to really take racing seriously, the girls lost a lot of their dad to their brother and spent the majority, if not all, of their time with their Mom. As a teenager, Chris did what all sixteen year old girls do and rebelled against any and every rule in the book. While Chandler was touring colleges and getting 1550s on her SAT and singing in the church choir, Chris had other plans. Whether it was stubbornly refusing to clean her half of the shared room with her big sister, ratting Chase out for coming home at 2am drunk, or sneaking out of the second-story window to go out with her all-too-old boyfriend, she tested all of the waters. It wasn’t until college, until she moved away to Athens and was out of the house for the first time in her life that she realized just how important family was to her. She’s been attempting to make up for lost time since. 

That night when she plugs her phone into the charger and shuts it off for the night, she realizes she’d been half expecting a late night text from Charles. It didn’t come, and disappointed isn’t the right word for the tiny little pit in her stomach because she wasn’t really expecting anything to come from typing her number into his contacts.  It’s not disappointment, it’s something closer to acceptance or rejection, maybe. It’s not like he would’ve been searching out anything but a hookup, anyways, and Chris made it perfectly clear that she wasn’t into that idea. 

She would never hear from him again, and that’s how it should be. The whole interaction turning into anything but a story she can tell in a couple months when she’s drunk would be entirely too complicated of an outcome. 

She doesn’t let herself think about it any longer, leaves her phone face down on the side table and tucks herself into bed. 

– – –

Traffic on race day is true-crime inducing. They’re driven, again, escorted and still spend an hour and a half in the backseat of an SUV. Bill and Chris watch from the VIP stands and Chris has never seen anything like this, especially not at COTA. Even Talladega and Daytona barely hold a candle to this spectacle. 

If she has one critique, it’s that F1 should really hire some B-List at best celebrity to scream drivers, start your engines! At the start of the race like they do in NASCAR. It would really add some flare, she thinks. 

She and Bill share Chris’ airpods, one in each of their ears listening to the NASCAR broadcast. Charles starts twelfth, for whatever reason. She can’t be bothered to look into it, knows it’ll probably be a penalty she doesn’t understand and she’ll be tumbling down a rabbit hole before she knows what’s happened to her. 

While it’s not Chase’s best race–he finishes fourteenth with a single sigh from Bill–Charles puts on a show, fights his tires all the way up into third. 

They watch the podium celebrations on the TV screens and nobody looks happy to be up there. They look miserable, almost, and she understands it to an extent. It’s hard to have energy after a race, she’s witnessed it first hand more times than she can count. It’s hard, especially at the end of the season. Burn-out is real, but still. They look bored. She didn’t know spraying champagne could look so tired. 

Bill grumpily flies them home to Georgia late Sunday night. He’d wanted to wait until Monday morning, after all the billionaires and their super-jets take off right after the race, but Chris refused to miss another day of work this early in the school year, not when she was already going to be missing time in December for her brother’s wedding. 

Bill’s been flying planes since before any of his kids were born. His most recent purchase is a Cessna Conquest II that he uses to fly the family around for short distances. In another gene that skipped the females in the family, Chandler, Chris, and their mom all prefer to be passengers. Chase, however, followed in Dad’s footsteps once more in becoming an avid aviation fan. 

By the time they take off, any thought Chris had of getting a text from Charles has faded far into obscurity. He’d probably gotten dozens of numbers from girls this weekend. He was probably at a club somewhere right now still pulling women. Women more his type, probably. He seems like he’d be more into the refined type, the girls without the ‘cheap’ accents who were all worldly and spoke seventeen languages fluently and had long legs that carried them down runways across Europe every other weekend. 

Little southern girls get texts from little southern boys, that’s how it goes. That's how it’s always gone, and Chris is beyond naive to think anything different for even a moment. 

She grades papers on the flight home. Purple pen, because she thinks that color is fun and red is too cruel to grade with. Puffy stickers for everyone, even the kids who aren’t anywhere near the right track because she doesn’t want anyone to feel less than just because they struggle a bit more. Chris has always been a firm believer that the student is never the problem. If someone isn’t learning what she’s teaching, she needs to adjust the way she teaches it to cater to their learning style. 

It’s her job to teach them, not their job to learn. 

Joris has been laughing at Charles from the hotel room armchair for fifteen minutes now, beyond entertained by his best friend’s restless pacing, providing absolutely zero aid to his current predicament. This act has been going on for some time now. Charles, pacing for five minutes before pulling out his phone and typing up an opening message to Chris. Each time, he starts to read it out to Joris and then stops himself short, deletes it, and paces for five more minutes. 

Hey, Chris. This is Ch–no, that’s stupid. 

Sorry it took me a minute to text–absolutely not. 

What’s up? It’s Charles, how–someone should just stop him from speaking to women all together. 

There’s half a dozen renditions before Joris breaks. “Mate? What is your problem?” He finally asks. “It’s just a girl.”

“I know,” Charles sighs, “I know.”

“Then why can’t you send her a text?”

“Because.” He doesn’t really know why he can’t land on a message, why everything he types sounds entirely too casual or formal or nothing at all like what he would say to another human being. This isn’t a problem that he’s used to having. It’s the in-person flirting that fucks him up, not the texts and DMs and comments. She was just… he doesn’t know what she was. She was just. End of sentence. 

It’s no help that he doesn’t know American texting culture, unfamiliar with how long he’s supposed to wait to send a message or what he’s supposed to say in the opening text. 

“Here,” Joris says, holds his hand out for the phone. “I’ve got the perfect text.”

“Don’t send it,” Charles warns, but passes the phone to his friend. 

“I… won’t,” Joris says slowly, struggling to multi-task. He doesn’t type for more than a few seconds and then hands the phone back to Charles, with the message already sent. Charles’ look of sheer panic is met with a smile and a chef’s kiss from Joris. 

She turns her phone off while Bill is shutting the plane engine down in the hangar. Because of his love of aviation, Bill had bought some land out in the woods a couple decades ago and turned it into the family’s private airstrip for their planes.  Elliott Field, they coined it, stored all their extra vehicles out on the property. She slips it into her back pocket as her and Bill disembark and lock up the place, and the entire time she can feel it vibrating, the notifications from the hour and a half flight catching up now that she’s on the ground again. 

It’s not until she’s in her car that she checks them, pulls her phone out to plug it into the aux and play some music for the drive back to her house. Right at the top of the dozens of notifications is a message from an unknown number with an unfamiliar area code. 

[one unread message] the notification reads. She unlocks her phone to check the message. 

She closes the messages app on her phone and opens up Spotify, shuffles her favorite playlist. She doesn’t reply to his text, doesn’t know if she wants to or even what she might say back. She’s sleepy, more than ready for bed after a long weekend in the sun, excited to be back with her students bright and early tomorrow morning. 

The text from the cute race car driver can wait for another day. An issue for tomorrow, maybe. 

masterlist next chapter>

[pantpisser9000]

Combined Together, Chapter one: Professor, Engineer, Captain

Inkling was a simple sea-creature, he had lived there for who knows how long, (most sea creatures didn’t keep track of their age, especially later on, and Inkling was one of those creatures) and he had done many things. He actually had an English degree, (as well as one to teach and a decent amount of experience in some science-related fields–he was called “Professor” for a reason, after all) and had a plethora of knowledge both from his vast amount of books that some friends on land kept for him, the book his own ___ had given to him, and personal experience. He enjoyed teaching, going on expeditions with his students. But he was getting old, so now while he was frequently underwater, he went to the “above” as many called it less and less, usually just to teach a lesson or two or just study on his own. But, something had always bothered him. SO many creatures were in trouble under the water, and nobody above seemed to really care. 

There had been countless times where Inkling had seen sea creatures die when it could’ve been easily prevented, or rockslides or volcanoes erupt where many of the slower creatures unfortunately met their end. And Inkling wasn’t exactly a hero. Maybe he’d help if he could, but he was old. And that gave him an idea, well, after a while. He came up with it slowly–what if they formed a team of creatures that could help those poor animals that couldn’t help themselves? 

He knew he’d need a couple of things, but he figured the best things to find first were a Captain, (as mentioned before, he was quite old, and he definitely couldn’t lead any expeditions.) and he needed someone who was strong, leadership qualities, holding their breath underwater would be good as well. And, obviously, he’d need an engineer. If what he was planning to do was travel all across the ocean and help out sea creatures, they’d need a place to eat, sleep, ect ect in. Plus submarines of sorts since he doubted that there’d be any sea creatures on the ship besides himself, and not everyone can outswim a hungry shark or territorial eel. Of course, they’d need many more people, but those two were his main focus. Captain and Engineer. 

Now he just needed to find them. 

Tweak had always loved tinkering with mechanics and building and engineering things. She enjoyed it so much that she went to college for it and passed with flying colors. She was part bunny, but what was unusual about that was the fact she was mint-green, instead of brown or white or black or any other usual colors of a rabbit. Short hair that was often partially held back by a pinkish hued headband and gloves and heavy boots usually adorned on her hands and feet. 

She had grown up in the Everglades of Florida, but came out with a southern accent so thick you’d think she was from Texas. And that was because she only really ever talked to her Pa, who was from Texas, and the people living in the Everglades, who she usually had short enough interactions with that it didn’t affect how she spoke at all. Whenever she let her large floppy ears sprout from her head, she had excellent hearing, and her Pa insisted she was the best creature-tracker in the whole world. 

But, as much as she loved her Pa and the Everglades, she’d been itching for more for a while. Going to college in the city was about as long as she’d gone, and while she never had stopped building, she wanted a real experience. Sure, she had a quick repair job, but she only went in on some days and eventually, fixing things gets boring. She always had so many concepts and ideas for transportation devices to some brief ideas for submarines on the occasion. She just didn’t have the materials to make anything all that big. 

Taking a walk through the swamp they called the Everglades, Tweak of course saw the people that lived there. An alligator hybrid or two laying in the sun, their babies curled up next to them. Tweak almost audibly went “aww”, but she hushed herself–even if they were people, she’d also prefer to not have alligator teeth lodged in her flesh. She shivered thinking about it, the blood trickling down – she stopped herself, shaking her head. Nope. She thought. Not ganna think about that. She decided, continuing her walk, jumping over logs and puddles and trekking through the mud. She’d prefer to be building, but she didn’t have enough scrap metal and she wasn’t called into work, but… maybe she could go in, say she could take over for whoever was working that day? She knew most of the employees were just there for the money or to get some stuff on their resume, while Tweak did it….Partially for the money, yes, it was nice (even if she never used it–she actually had quite a bit saved) but mainly for the fact that she wanted to have something to tinker with and improve her skills constantly. Even if it was just fixing busted up motorcycles and cars.

So, she hopped in the old jeep, (it was still functioning well because of her assistance, which her Pa was massively grateful for.) and drove. It was a decent drive to the city, but Tweak was fine with it. She was with her best friend; Machinery. 

Eventually, after the drive, she had arrived. Parking the jeep in the lot of the place, she walked in, and she saw something unusual. She didn’t want to interrupt or eavesdrop, but it wasn’t her fault if she accidentally heard something. She did have wonderful hearing, after all. So, she listened in. It was an older man–complete with a pink-hued mustache and a bald head, a bowtie fastened around his neck and seated in a wheelchair. I think I could make him a better one, she thought to herself silently, but obviously didn’t say anything. The other person was her manager. 

The manager, smoking a cigarette; “Listen, dude.. I don’t think you’re gonna find anyone here willing to develop their goddehm lives to yer… mermaid rescue?” 

The older man, pursing his lips and motioning with his hands; “... Underwater creatures. And-”

The manager, annoyed, slamming his hand on the table; “ REALLY. Nobody’s willing to commit their life to yer passion project, old man.” 

The older man bit the inside of his cheek, closed his eyes and nodded, before wheeling out. But Tweak was interested as she watched him roll out. Saving underwater creatures? While she wasn’t a medic or healer by any means, she was an engineer. And she doubted that he would’ve gone to a mechanics shop if he didn’t need someone to design machines and “gizmos” as her Pa would call them. She walked up behind him. “H—howdy there!” she said, stuttering. The older man blinked. “Hello?” he responded, confusion lacing his voice. Tweak intertwined her hands. “I’m- I’m an engineer there. I accidentally heard a bit of your conversation with my manager, and.. What I'm saying is, I’m very curious and also very very interested.” she finished. The man smiled. “Really?” he asked, and she nodded. “Well, I mean I’d like to know more details but.. This is something that seems quite interesting.” The man nodded, motioning her to follow him. 

“Let’s chat at the local library,” he said, and she responded quickly, “Alright,”. She didn’t have work today, anyways. “I’m Professor Inkling,” he said as they walked/rolled, and she responded back. “My name’s Tweak.” Inkling nodded. “Jolly good to meet you, Tweak.” he said, and then they arrived at the local library. Tweak honestly didn’t know it was there, but she didn’t mention that to the Professor. 

They sat down at a secluded corner of the Library, Tweak nervously playing with her fingers and Inkling had his own intertwined professionally. “I suppose I should tell you more about the job,” he said, and started to speak. “It’s an organization I’m working on–still workshopping the name, before you ask–and it aims to help creatures who need it below the surface. You see, I’m part squid, and I have lived underwater for many many years. And while there’s doctors and police and all of those things up here, there simply is not down there. I believe some creatures deserve more of a chance, deserve some healthcare of some sort and sometimes, they need saving. So, I’ve decided to start this project. My plan is to assemble a base team of myself, a captain, and an engineer, and then after a test run or two, we’ll get more of a team.” he said, and Tweak nodded. “So, as an engineer, what’d I be doing?” she asked, and Inkling beamed. 

“Designing the main headquarters–almost like a huge submarine-house–and smaller submarines to go out on small missions on. As well as handy tools to help us throughout and all of that stuff.” he said, and Tweak was practically beaming. “That sounds terrific Prof! That’s… well, I’ve always loved building things, even as a little bun, and.. Well, let’s say I’ve come up with designs for submarines before. Not very complicated ones, but a start, yes.” she said, and the Professor grinned. “Wonderful! Are you free tomorrow as well?” he asked, and Tweak frowned. “Unfortunately, no. I’ve got work. But, they day afterwards I am!” she said, and Inkling clasped his hands together. “Alright. How about, the day after tomorrow, you bring some of those beta designs, we’ll look them over and.. You’ll decide if you wanna take part in this project and I’ll see if you’re top-notch.” he said, and Tweak smiled. 

She didn’t say it, but she knew that it was unlikely he was gonna find an engineer as passionate as her. “Anything else ya wanna know today? I ain’t busy.” she said, and Inkling pursed his lips. “Hm. I’d just like to know some things about you. Childhood, if that’s alright.” he said, and Tweak grinned. “I can do that. Let’s see, I grew up in the Everglades with my Pa. I only really talked t’ him and he grew up in Texas, so that’s why my accents all like this. My Ma divorced my Pa a while ago, back when I was a lil bunny. Hardly remember ‘er. But, my green fur I got from my Pa. Uh, I’ve always liked tinkerin’ around, and I played ‘round with scrap metal a lot and made lil inventions. Went to engineering school, got that job ‘cus I was bored, and then I met you.” she finished, and Inkling put his hand to his chin. “Being passionate is always good, so I appreciate that. I knew that some of the people working at that place were… less passionate and more money oriented, but I���m glad I found someone like you.” he said, and Tweak nodded. She practically had this job in the bag. “I know I’m technically the one bein’ interviewed, but I’d like to know about you, Prof” she said, tilting her head. The professor chuckled. 

“But of course. Well, I grew up on a sea mount–a wonderful place, really. Christmas was wonderful, we always decorated the golden corral. Hm, well, it wasn’t all that interesting. Basic sea life, honestly. Ate, slept, woke up, ate. For a while, I was fine with that. But, I wanted to know more about the world, and more importantly, about the ‘above’. So, I trained myself to turn myself more humanoid–it was quite hard to get past my legs and arms becoming tentacles, but I did it–and, while I had to use a wheelchair, I went to college for English studies. Became a professor. And, a while after that, I saw all of the creatures suffering, and I came up with this mission.” he finished, and Tweak was slightly surprised. She had no idea what life was like underwater. 

The professor cocked his head to the side. “So, is there anything else I should be made aware of?” he asked, and Tweak shook her head. “I don’t think so. I ain’t all that interestin’.” she said, and the Professor nodded. “I’ll see you in two days, then, Tweak.” he said, wheeling out of there. Tweak was practically shining. She hopped in the jeep, drove back to the Everglades and therefore back to her Pa’s station, and hopped out. “PA!” she yelled, and her father swiveled his head. “Howdy there Tweak,” he said, and Tweak rushed up to him.

“Pa, it’s not official yet, but I’ve got great news!” she said, and her father cocked his head in anticipation. “There’s this like, underwater expedition thingy that this older man–his name is Professor Inklin’ – is setting up, to help out the creatures below, and I’m bein’ pretty heavily considered to be the head engineer! ” she exclaimed, and her Pa looked a little… sad? “So you’ll be leavin?” 

Tweak blinked. She hadn’t thought about that. “Well.. I suppose, yeah.” she said. She bit the inside of her cheek. “Well, if it’s what ya wanna do, that’s dandy, I’ll just miss ya.” he said, and Tweak kept herself from tearing up a little. “I- Um.. didn’t think ‘bout that.” she said, gripping onto her wrist. Her Pa looked back up at her. “Hey, Tweak. It’s perfectly fine if ya wanna do that. Just… contact yer Pa every once in a while, yeah?” he requested, and Tweak nodded. She looked back at his old radio. Sure, it was old and decrepit, but it worked. She gave him a hug. “I’m not leavin’ just yet though.” she said, and her Pa patted her back. 

The next day was bore-inducing. Tweak was phenomenal, as always, but she was bored. She was entertained by her thoughts of coming up with designs for submarines and other such things, she basically already had a few ideas in her head. Obviously, they’d need a variety–she was thinking of one based off of a angler fish. Light on the top to help them see in the dark incase if they ever went deep down into the trenches or if it was night. A small, slender, fast one would be good too. They’d obviously need one with a towline, in case any of the others got damaged. But, she decided she should start simpler. She had the idea for a very very simple ‘submarine’, it was really just so she could figure out the framework and then improve on it. She was thinking pedals. 

And she continued to think about various submarines and everything all throughout her work day, and while it didn’t affect her work, she did get a little worried it was so she forced herself to stop thinking of all those ideas and focused. When she left that day, she was excited for the next. She was going to scribble down some of her design ideas when she got home. She was ecstatic about the whole thing and she had to force herself to get to sleep–she didn’t want to be tired when she met Inkling the next day. So, when she woke up, she hugged her dad, jumped in the jeep, and drove to the library directly instead of parking in her (hopefully soon, former) job’s workplace. She walked in, before realizing that she was an hour early. She slowly walked out, deciding to actually eat some breakfast and then she’d hopefully end up a tad early for the interview. Sauntering over to a nearby restaurant, she grabbed some tater tots and ate them with some carrots. Maybe not the healthiest, but she didn’t want to take too long. 27 minutes had passed. She paid, walked out, back into the library, and decided to touch up her designs. 

33 more long minutes later, and Inkling came over. “Hello there, Tweak” he said, rolling over and situating himself across the table from her. “I’d love to see the designs,” he smiled. “I will say, I’m… not very knowledgeable on engineering.” Tweak nodded. She’d been expecting that bit, to say the least. Sliding the designs over to him, she began to talk. “So, that first one is just to help me get the framework down. It’s really just a small, circular submarine’s framing and I’m thinking about testing out both an engine and pedals. Once I manage to figure out how that would work, I can start to work on this one.” she slid over another blueprint. “It’s lightly based on an anglerfish, as I’m sure you can tell. Light at the top for night-time and deep cavernous missions, hatch at the bottom, dispenser as the mouth.” she finished, and Inkling looked to be in utter awe. “These are wonderful , Tweak. Did you have any ideas in mind for the headquarters?” he asked, and she nodded again. “Wasn’t sure exactly what ya wanted, but I came up with this. I call it The Octopod. ” she said. She was by far most pleased with this design. It was based on an octopus, 8 extended arms and a big circular head, hatch as the mouth. Inkling looked pleased at this one, too. “I adore this, but I think four arms would be better, just as… Well, first, I don’t think we’ll need nearly that amount of extra space, and two… they’re very close in proximity, and we obviously couldn’t make the arms very stiff, and I don’t want them to bang each other up. Tweak blinked. Of course. “Y-yeah, that- makes sense. But, besides that..?” she asked, and Inkling looked up at her. 

“Well, you’re certainly hired, officially. And two, once you make those changes, I think.. Everything’s really quite perfect.” he said, and Tweak flushed a little. “I think that, once you get all of your notice stuff for your previous job settled… figure out exactly what you need, and tell me in about two weeks, Saturday. I’ll meet you here, same time. I’ll let you figure out everything you need, make some small model tests just to figure it all out, yes?” he said, and Tweak nodded. “Sounds wonderful, Prof.” she said, and the Professor waved goodbye. “Well, I suppose that’s goodbye for now then, new Head engineer” and he wheeled himself out. Tweak already had many ideas brimming in her brain. As she hopped in the jeep, many thoughts and ideas swarmed her mind. Though, she decided to talk to her manager first–better to file her two-weeks notice in as soon as she possibly could. 

Walking in, the bell ringing, the manager looked up from the computer. (he, while he didn’t need to, also worked the front desk. He wanted more money, to put it simply) “Tweak?” he asked, obviously confused. She walked over, putting her elbow on the counter and smiling. “Where do I get the papers for my two-weeks notice?” she asked. The manager looked up at her in surprise. “You’re.. . leaving this place? Why the hell would ya do that?” he asked, a little pissed off. She shrugged. “Found a job that I prefer quite a bit more.” her manager grinded his teeth a little. “Oh, what, you got a little low-rank position at a damn startup or somethin?” she looked at him. “Nope” she said, popping the ‘p’, “head engineer” she said, and her manager slammed his fists on the table. 

“DID YOU GO WITH THAT OLD GEEZER?” he asked, yelling. She pursed her lips. “So what if I did? He’s passionate and willing to give me all the materials I need.” she said, and she noticed her manager was practically glaring at her. “Yer the best engineer we have. Think this all back over. You’re ruinin’ yer life.” he finished. He was pissed, claws protruding from his nails and teeth sharp. Tweak would be lying if she said she wasn’t a tad scared. “To be honest… not really convincing me t’ stay.” she said. At this point, she just began to speak again, “I.. I think I’m just gonna quit. Right now.” she said, handing her resignation papers. She wasn’t stupid. She considered this possibility, and then she walked out, not particularly wanting to continue this conversation. Tweak realized what she’d just done. She could never go back to that job again. But really, would she ever want to go back? 

Tweak was certain she already knew the answer to that. No. 

Walking back to her jeep, she decided she’d work on her designs more at home. Perfect them. Make a few more. But first, she wanted to make that framework. It was simple, yes, but it would be fun. Plus, better to work with what she had to figure out how she’d make it with real materials. 

Hopping in the jeep, a little bit of the leather on the seat tearing off, she drove back into her swampy home. She looked to her dad, who was surprised she was home so early. “Tweak?” he asked, and Tweak grinned. “Heya Pa. I’m gonna work here, instead.” he looked like he might cry. “Sounds great, Tweak.” he said, sitting up in his chair a little. He was ecstatic, but obviously he wouldn’t say that. 

She pulled out the scrap metal she’d been saving, deconstructed a older project or two, and she thought she had just enough for the basic framework. A day or two of welding, her face practically melting off under the hot Florida sun, another few days of hitting in bolts and making the pedals work, and a last day doing touch ups.. She was done. Grinning, she was proud. Sure, it wasn’t the most glorious thing, but it was good for something she’d built with her own two hands with scrap material and rusty old tools. Now, she just had to test if it worked. Obviously, she couldn’t go deep, but she did test a little in shallow water–it worked. She had a feeling with more covering, the light she planned, and an engine? It’d be perfect. Wonderful, even. Her dad wasn’t 100% sure what was going on, in all honesty, but he thought it was good. “Better than i could ever dream o’ doin.” he had said, giving her a slap on the back. Tweak grinned. 

And so, those few weeks went quicker than she was expecting. She and her Pa ended up spending time together, as well, which was really quite nice. And so, it was Saturday. Her Pa had bought an old trailer/wagon like thing to attach to the jeep ages ago, and now it was finally going to come in use. She loaded the frame into it, and drove to the library perfectly on time, and the Professor was waiting for her. She was a minute late, but he didn’t seem to mind as he waved towards her. “Tweak, hello!” he said, and Tweak went over and sat across from him. 

“Hey Prof.” she said, hands laced together “I built a framework, or I suppose an idea of sorts for one of the submarine ideas. It’s not the best, but I was workin’ with scrap metal an’ some older tools,” she said. The professor blinked. “My, you’ve outdone yourself then!” he exclaimed, clasping his hands together. “Oh, an’, I worked on a lotta blueprints for some of the other submarines, too. Made a small model or two for them, as well.” she finished, and the professor seemed very pleased. “Wonderful, Tweak. If you could, do you have the lists of the materials you’d need?” she nodded. “I figured we’d probably only need the materials for the hq an’ one or two of the gups to start,” she said. The Professor nodded. “Can you meet up on Tuesday? I think I’d like to figure out where to get all of this.” Tweak nodded. “I’ll continue my work, then.” she said. The Professor nodded. “Oh, do you wanna see the framework, by the way? I’ve got it latched onta my jeep.” she said. 

Inkling looked surprised. “Why yes of course!” he declared, and Tweak led him out to the jeep. He looked to be in awe. “This was made with scraps ?” he asked, and she nodded. “It ain’t pretty, but it works. Obviously, the real submarines will be nicer, but I figured this could… possibly serve as a backup, if needed.” she said. Inkling nodded. “Excellent planning ahead.” Tweak, hands on her hips, smirked. She was way better off doing this. 

She and the Professor said their goodbyes fairly quickly. And now, she’d just have to wait. She had ended up tweaking (hah) the models a tad to make them a little better, and now it was Tuesday. Met up at the library again, same time once more. Inkling had a.. Hard to decipher look on his face. “So, Tweak. Some bad and good news. Good news is, majority of the materials I can get from here in Florida. Bad news is, there’s a few only available in… well, Britain being the closest.” Tweak blinked. “What materials?” she asked, and the professor slid the paper over. “Oh, that’s perfectly fine, I can get most of it done without those anyways! Faster than you can say buncha munchy crunchy carrots!” she said, laughing a little. She’d picked that expression up from her dad. “Sounds wonderful, then. I think I might search for a Captain there, as well. Given how I haven’t had much luck finding one here.” Tweak blinked. That made sense. She nodded. 

And for once in a long time, Tweak was very really excited. 

—

Captain Barnacles, leader of the…  Barnacles put down his pen. He couldn’t expect to be a Captain of anything yet, could he? He’d worked on a few ships before, a cruise once. Never suited his interest. He ran his hand through his short hair–he’d cut it before venturing out of his snow-filled home. Maybe a tad too short, but he didn’t care all that much. He liked to think he looked relatively friendly, despite his sharp teeth from his polar-bear side. He practically never had claws or his ears or fur out, he was pretty calm most of the time. Whenever he exercised though, it tended to come out, usually just ears, sometimes a muzzle and his hands more into paws. He usually exercised more at home, well, not really ‘home’ but his apartment. Speaking of his apartment, that’s what he was currently in. It was small, he had pulled together just enough money to buy a small apartment from all of his temporary gigs. He had done some laboring and construction a few times, worked a variety of jobs on a variety of ships, and maybe worked some retail for a couple of months when he first moved to England. His sister, Bianca, was content on staying up in their icy home, but Barnacles wasn’t. He had known exactly what he wanted to do since he was a cub. 

Sighing, he decided to close the journal he had started keeping since he had moved there, and walked out. It was a nice day. Well, it would be for normal people, but being part polar bear and all it would’ve led him to overheating, easily. But, he had been given a cold suit. It was pajamas, technically, but he always just layered other clothes with it and usually he was just a little warm instead of dying from heat exhaustion at all times. 

He just had a temporary construction job at the moment, and he was only needed on weekdays, and today was thankfully Saturday. He decided to stop at a shop to get a meal. Ramen noodles. He was practically on a college budget with the cheap –and probably not exactly great for him– food he ate everyday, but he didn’t have much of a choice. This was his life until he could eventually and hopefully work on a real ship or just be in charge of something. 

Grabbing the noodles, (all filled to the brim with non-meat protein, because in this world, it’d be much less moral) and checking out by himself, he walked back to his apartment, locking the door behind him. Everyone knew he was a goddamn polar bear, could probably crush their skulls if he wanted, ( he would never, though. He thinks he’d throw up if he tried.) so there wasn’t really a point, but he figured he might as well.

He grabbed a pot from a cabinet, filled it up with some water, placed the thing on the stove, turned the heat up, and waited. Glancing over at his weights, he decided it couldn’t hurt. Picking one up, about 30 pounds, and then the other, lifting and lowering them and doing so in a few different poses and in different ways, he heard the bubbling of the water. Placing the weights down, wiping the sweat off his brow and mustache and combing through his hair with his hands, he walked over. His ears were polar bearish at the moment, now, instead of regular human ears.

Opening a packet of ramen with ease, he turned down the heat, broke the ramen, and dropped it into the boiling water. He yoinked a spatula, breaking it apart in the water with some weirdly satisfying crunch es, and he grabbed the packet of flavoring. He tore it open with his teeth, before dumping it all into the pot and stirring. He broke it up a little more, stirred, waited, and repeated for a little while until he considered it done. 

He grabbed a bowl, carefully poured in the substance over the sink, and grabbed a fork. Then, he took his dinner over to his computer. It definitely wasn’t the newest model, and the guy wasn’t super super tech savvy, but he made it work. He had an account or two on a few job listing sites, and he thought his profile looked nice. A picture of himself, from the shoulders up, as the profile picture. He was smiling in it, but not with his teeth. Of course, he had to state he was part polar-bear, but he put it as a strength, as it did help make him stronger. 

Scrolling through the site, screen illuminating his features and scooping mouthfuls of ramen into his mouth, his eyes widened–the perfect job offering. It was posted with someone with no profile picture, which while a tad suspicious, not incriminating by any means. It read, plain and simple; 

Looking for a Captain for a new expedition on the high seas. 

Barnacles looked at the requirements for the Captain, and he hoped he met all the standards for it, this seemed like a huge possible opportunity! 

(Physically) Strong

Well, he definitely had that covered. He didn’t particularly like to brag or anything like that, but he was much stronger than the average person. Again, like mentioned prior; he could crush anyone’s skull if he wanted to. He was strong. He looked at the rest of the qualities needed, then. 

Leadership qualities (not shy, kind, direct, ect.) 

While he wasn’t as confident about this one, he was also confident this lined up perfectly with him as well. He had always been first in line when he and the rest of the Polar scouts went out on their little expeditions. Always led, always in front, always directed everyone (politely, of course) and he liked to consider himself a leader. So, that one checked out as well. He scrolled onwards. 

Quick thinker in stressful situations

Of course, he immediately remembered when he had been stuck in that hole when he was a child, and he hadn’t thought quickly then, but… if they were out in the open ocean, that wouldn’t be a problem, right? He thought back to his scout days again. He had saved Tracker quickly that one time, and he had always been able to move quickly multiple times before that on previous badge-earnings, so he believed he fit that requirement as well.

Kind, a people person. Able to resolve conflicts (most of the time) as well.

Barnacles, while some people feared him, did consider himself nice. He had gone out of his way to help people as much as reasonably possible, and he was nice to everyone. Usually he could start up a conversation easily, as long as the other person was even somewhat willing. Even though he didn’t get to talk to people besides the other scouts, (including his sister) and Professor Natquik, he considered himself good at communicating. He’d solved a conflict or two between the Polar scouts as a kid, so it didn’t seem impossible by any means that he qualified for this.

Can steer/has some experience steering a ship of any kind

He grinned at this. He definitely knew how to steer a ship. He’d taken over in an emergency situation once or twice, and had a steering wheel he could connect to his computer to practice–which he did only a little less than exercising. 

Able to swim at least decently well

Again, this was no problem–he knew how to swim quite wonderfully. He and Bianca were part polar bear, after all. They had swam very very long distances before, and Barnacles had loved taking icy swims when he was younger! It was part of his very identity, so this was not nearly even a ‘maybe’, he fit perfectly with this bit. 

There was a few more qualities, but Barnacles matched up very nicely with all of them–he was perfect for the job. So, he clicked the link at the end for the man who was hiring’s email address. He sent a simple email, talking about how he had all the qualities for the job perfectly and was very very willing to meet up in person to discuss further details on the matter. 

He was sent a response only 33 minutes after. It was overwhelmingly professional, not a single mistake in its words. After a bit of emailing back and forth, they had eventually decided on a date, time, and place. A library nearby, and they were starting the interview that next day, at 3:00 PM. Barnacles could hardly wait. 

The next day, he had woke up bright and early, at 7:00am. Sure, it was a long while until the interview, and he could barely keep in his excitement. Part of him wanted to gush and tell Bianca about it, but he figured he should wait if –or until– he actually got the job before raving about this to her. This could be a new part of his life! Finally, something he’d always wanted for years, a Captain aboard the… Well, he didn’t know the ship’s name, but he was still excited nonetheless! 

He worked out a tad bit to cool off his excitement, for an hour or two until he was (kinda) tired out. He had practically unending stamina, so he was only sweating by the end of it.

Then, he came up with a plan. Eat breakfast, exercise again and then since he wanted to look nice and fresh for the interview which he was so desperately awaiting, he would take a nice, long shower. He decided on toast with that artificial meat on it.. It was pretty accurate tasting, or so Barnacles had heard, (he’d only ever eaten fish, never anything else) so he sandwiched it together. He didn’t bother putting down a plate, as he devoured the whole thing within mere seconds. Sure, not the most filling, but he usually had bigger lunches. 

Hopping on the treadmill once again, he was on it for a shorter amount of time. Only 30 minutes. Wiping the beads of sweat gathering on his face, he headed into the bathroom. Stripping down quickly and twisting the knob, he stepped in and began his long as all hell shower.

Barnacles enjoyed taking long showers and baths–but unlike the majority, his were frigid and calming instead of hot and calming. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a bathtub in his apartment, (Something he was saddened by when he realized) so he had to resort to his less preferred option, showering. Still, he tried to make the best of it. He took about an hour-long shower, (the other people living in the complex certainly didn’t care how long he showered, given how he’d never take up any hot water. In fact, when he had first moved in, he had asked if that rule counted for cold showers, and the person running the complex looked at him funny and simply said ‘no’.) and by the time he had dried off it was 9:44am. Still a few more hours. 

He pulled on his other pair of cold-suit-pajamas, then the layer on top was just a nice-enough looking dress shirt and jeans. He thought he looked nice in his outfit. He looked longingly at his computer and the steering wheel, and he figured it certainly couldn’t hurt. 

About three hours later, he turned off his computer. Maybe he had played for a little long, but he wanted to be prepared! Who knew what kinda tests the interviewer would pit against him! …Or maybe because he was slightly bored. Who knows. Either way, it was now 12:45. Just a few more measly hours until the interview which he was so desperately awaiting. 

He would probably eat lunch in around 45 minutes. Maybe he’d… go take a walk, or something. Honestly, he wasn’t really all that sure. But, maybe that’d do some good for him rather then just going on a treadmill. He’d be able to see the sights…or something like that. Not like the sights were all that amazing, but maybe he could kill an hour or two by doing it. 

So, that’s exactly what he did for 45 minutes, walking along, his tall stature scaring one or two of the smaller hybrid people. Eventually, he had gotten hungry again, and even though he was usually one for something a little healthier… he had just eaten instant ramen for dinner yesterday. And at the very least, he exercised all the damn time, so he didn’t have to worry too much, or at least he hoped so. Either way, he stopped at a quick burger place, paid and got a burger, and devoured it. He was a tad hungry but.. That was fine. He’d eat a snack or something in a little. 

He had gotten and eaten the thing in around 5 minutes. It was now 1:36. He could barely wait, and he came up with a short-term plan once again. Go back to his apartment, freshen up a little, grab a snack, and then just head to the library. Sure, he’d be VERY early but he honestly didn’t care much. They were doing the interview at a library, after all. He could just read. Maybe on captain-related things, or for tips on interviews. So, that’s exactly what he did. He arrived at the library at around 2:07, and picked up a few books. 

Interviews for dummies

You’re a captain, now! 

Ship maintenance & managing 101 

And eventually, at 3 o'clock on the dot, a man came in. He was old, obviously, Barnacles could tell that much. Barnacles himself was only 29–this man looked to be around 70 or 80. Toned pink mustache, blue monocle, bowtie situated around his neck. He was in a wheelchair of sorts. He waved, “You must be Mr. PolarBear, yes?” and Barnacles nodded. “And you’re Professor Inkling?” he asked back, to which the professor nodded to as well. 

“That I am.” he said, approaching a table. “Over here, the interview has begun.” Barnacles nodded, placing the books back where he found them swiftly and walking over to the man, and sitting on the chair adjacent to him. “So, Mr.PolarBear.. What’s your story?” he asked, elbows on the table and leaning in. “Just Barnacles, please, Professor. But I uh.. I’m from the arctic, with me being part polar bear and all. I was in this little organization called the Polar scouts.” he began, putting his hands in his lap as Professor Inkling listened. “That’s what made up most of my childhood, being a Polar scout. I got almost all the badges, besides one. The walrus help badge. They never accepted my help. But, either way, we went on many little adventures, even helped a scientist named Professor Natquik once or twice. We ventured into caves, swam across the icy sea, earned various badges.” he said, looking back up at the Professor. 

“Interesting. So you have team building experience, swimming and helping?” he asked, to which Barnacles nodded. “Not to toot my own horn, but I saved some of the other members on the occasion. Once, a large ice piece almost fell onto my friend, Tracker, and I managed to lift it for enough time for him to crawl back out.” he said, and the Professor nodded again. “And I’ve swam my whole life. I’d say I’m at least decent at it. I always led the rest of the troop, too. We all helped each other at various times.” he continued, and the Professor nodded. 

“That’s all very good. Do you have experience with ships and steering, or even Captaining?” he asked, and Barnacles nodded before speaking again. “I’ve worked on ships off and on for a while, and I.. Well, I have this fake steering wheel that connects to my computer, and I practice steering quite a bit. I did it for a few hours today.” he continued again, then, “I have worked on actual ships usually as a cabin boy or once a lieutenant.” 

Inkling nodded again. “So far, out of all the ones I’ve interviewed for this position, you have by far the most experience.” he said, jotting a note on some paper Barnacles hadn’t even noticed he had brought. “While I will say, you have a very large chance of getting in, I have another interview or two that I’d like to conduct first. I’ll contact you if you’ve gotten the job.” Inkling said, and Barnacles was about to burst with excitement, but just nodded calmly. “Thank you so much for this opportunity.” Barnacles said, and the professor smiled, nodded, and silently wheeled off. 

Barnacles when he got home immediately headed for the treadmill after stripping his nice clothes off. He needed some way to get out his energy, and this was how he was doing it. He was filled to the brim with happiness–he was the one who the professor was most likely going to select? That was wonderful! But of course, he tried his best to contain himself. There were still a few more interviewees. He had to calm down a little. 

But, just a week later, when his hope was beginning to dwindle, he got a notification in his email. It was from Professor Inkling. He said that he’d gotten the job. Barnacles practically jumped for joy, but maintained his composure–this was a pretty serious job. He couldn’t be super excitable like he was at the moment, so he took a few deep breaths and just smiled, responding professionally and happily, expressing gratitude and that he would go wherever. After exchanging emails back and forth, Barnacles and Inkling had come to an agreement. That next Saturday, they’d go aboard a ship, (Inkling had already had a reserved spot for himself and another) and go to the US. Barnacles had technically been to the US multiple times before, (Alaska), but he had never gone to anywhere like Florida. Apparently, that’s where the Engineer was stationed, along with the prototype, or more so the first version? Of the ship, The Octopod. 

Apparently, it still needed a paint job, but that wasn’t needed for a quick adventure. Just to see how it’s working before they got the rest of the crew, and the newly-crowned Captain was truly excited. A crew. His crew. Inkling said that they’d chat on the boat about what types of people they’d need, and the jobs and everything about this whole experience. 

And Barnacles could hardly wait. He finished up the rest of his construction work for the week, and even if it was technically supposed to be a two weeks notice, the employee decided that one week was better then nothing. Barnacles already had everything packed up, figured some stuff out with his apartment. His photos, Polar scout badges and old uniform, old sock-puppet, a majority of his clothes– everything. He was prepared and he was damn ready to start this new venture in his life. And he was excited. And the week dragged on and on, and then finally after what felt like an eternity…

It was time. Barnacles slid on his backpack, packed up his suitcase. He had (sadly) sold his treadmill, but that was fine. At this point, he didn’t care about a treadmill–he had his dream job practically secured. 

Rolling his suitcase out the door, wheels clacking against the concrete surface and keys given to the front desk of the apartment, he walked out, ready to start this now era of his life. Barnacles walked out onto the boardwalk. He saw the Professor in front of the ship, waving him over as they both walked on. “Barnacles, hello” he stated, motioning for Barnacles to follow him, which was done immediately. Inkling motioned to a room, and handed Barnacles a key. “This trip will take a few days, so.. And I would’ve chosen by air, but there unfortunately somehow wasn’t any to Florida at the moment, and I’m not exactly accustomed to trekking across the US.” he said, and Barnacles nodded. He wouldn’t admit it, but while he certainly wasn’t scared of going on a plane, he’d rather the Professor not see him act at least a little stupid on their first trip. 

Barnacles unlocked the door, walking in. It was.. Small, but not small enough to trigger his claustrophobia by any means. It was taller than him, and the Hammock was low enough that he wouldn’t bump his head when he stood up, and there was enough room for his stuff. Of course, he’d prefer something bigger, (he was a tad afraid he would forget where he was in the middle of the night and then have his claustrophobic tendencies pop, because it was tiny enough to where that could happen.) but beggars can’t be choosers. 

He sighed. He’d make it work. He’d hopefully learn a little more about the ship from Inkling, some of the crew plans, ect. Setting down his stuff, (but deciding not to unpack it–he’d only be on this ship for a couple days.) he walked back out. Inkling wasn’t in sight, at all. Barnacles decided to take a look around the ship. It wasn’t huge by any means, but it also wasn’t all that small. A medium sized ship, to summarize. He wandered aimlessly for a little, until he came across Inkling again, reading a book. Inkling looked up, and immediately waved to the new Captain. “Barnacles, hello.” he said, smiling and Barnacles sat down at the chair adjacent to him, and Inkling set down his book. “So, Barnacles. I suppose I should tell you a little more about the ship, yes?” he said, and Barnacles nodded. “I’d love that, yes.” he replied, smiling and Inkling pulled out a blueprint. “This is just the basic design, of course, but..” Barnacle looked in utter awe–it was wonderful. 

It was clearly octopus based, with four arms that all had rooms. “It can hold about 7 people, with two people in two of the extended pods, and me in the library, the scientist in the lab, and Tweak, our engineer, in the launch bay.” he said, pushing it towards Barnacles. “That’s wonderful” he simply said, overtaken by the wonder of the thing. 

“So far, we’ve got you, the Captain, Tweak, the engineer, and me. We’ll obviously need a medic, and a scientist or biologist of some sort. We’ll need someone to man the thing, so likely a person who has experience in IT work, and a lieutenant. Second in command, I should say. Plus, a photographer, so we’d need one of those people who can do both.” he finished, and Barnacles nodded. “I unfortunately don’t think I know anyone who’d be interested.. The only one I can think of seems content where he is, and he doesn’t exactly seem the type to travel across the ocean. He’s stationed in the Arctic.” 

Inkling put a hand to his chin. “Hm. I can think of one person, but I think she’s pretty happy on land, as well. I suppose we’ll just have to figure it out some other way to get more crew members,” Inkling said, and Barnacles agreed. 

Looked like they’d just have to figure that out later. 

—

When the Captain and the Professor arrived, Tweak didn’t know exactly who or what she was expecting. She knew the Professor was part squid–the guy had mentioned it, after all. But, she found it interesting the Captain, (whose name she ended up learning to be Barnacles,) was part Polar Bear. She was.. Slightly curious what a polar bear had been doing in London of all places, but she decided to save that question for another time. For now, she was focused on first impressions. Reaching out her hand, she said, “Heya there, Cap.” she figured that maybe she should’ve been more professional, but he shook her hand. “Hello, Tweak, is it?” he asked. She doubted he’d lived in London for all that long but he certainly had a slight accent. Maybe that was just compared to her jarringly southern one, though. He was much taller than Inkling and Tweak, –at least more than 6’0, Tweak though– with dark brown skin, white buzzed hair and a more squarish mustache compared to the professor’s monopoly-man esc one(It didn’t help his case that the Professor also wore a monocle). Of course, the Octopod was … certainly not the most beautiful looking. Tweak had a feeling this would probably end up being the prototype, as if she were to remake it it’d likely be smoother, as the metal plates were more obvious and a tad jarring. It was also silver, and Tweak thought it’d be better as a different color. A yellow or orange, maybe. She’d thought about blue, but she didn’t want it to blend in–that wasn’t the intent. 

“This is.. Wonderful-” Captain Barnacles said, in awe. Tweak was honestly quite proud of herself for how she’d constructed it in such a short amount of time. Along with the first two submarines, which she’d named ‘gups’. Tweak was thinking “-A” for the frame, but she settled on F instead. She was planning on making a lot of gups, and she didn’t want one of her actually good ones to end up with “F”. She figured she’d follow the alphabet normally besides that, though. The next one she’d name would be the Gup B, then C, and then so on. 

“Now, I’ll need those materials ya got from Brit-land, and that’ll probably take another couple o’ days, a week or two tops.” she said, and both Inkling and the Captain bobbed their heads in agreement. She looked directly at the Captain, pointing, then. “Fer you, I have a simulator or two I’d like to run ya through. I’m sure yer experienced in all o’ that already, but..” she shrugged. “Better safe than sorry, yeah?” she said. The Captain, hands together behind his back, (Tweak thought he might be a slight bit overserious) nodded to that, and Tweak decided to show them to the small space Inkling had rented out over there for training related purposes. 

She showed him how to work the computer, and he seemed like he was excited but didn’t want to show it? She decided to not say anything though, she could very well just be misinterpreting what he was talking about anywho, she had literally known him for less than a hour. 

So, she gathered up the remaining materials and got to work quickly. Popping this into that and screwing one thing into the next and welding a thing or two, making a few final touches and finally, after a little less than a week… she was done. The Captain was an utter expert at the game, and Tweak knew Inkling had picked the right guy. She hadn’t managed to talk to him much, but when she did, he was very… 

Well, he had qualities a captain should have. Respectful, sociable, (even if a little over-professional at times), generally a nice person, and Tweak already could tell he’d be a wonderful leader. Seemed like Inkling had a knack for picking out the right people. Not to brag, obviously, but Tweak considered her designs quite wonderful. Everyone else seemed to agree. 

Tweak was excited the entire time, even if this ship was technically a prototype. Tweak had a feeling it’d have problems, but since she wouldn’t be able to see them until the thing was in action, she decided not to worry about it. She’d mention that, of course, to Inkling and the Captain, but it wasn’t something that would be a super big problem. She hoped. 

It was only a few days later until it was ‘done’. Sure, it certainly wasn’t the final final product, (Inkling said he had enough materials to make three more if needed(even if Tweak thought they’d only need one more at the most)) with its uneven plating on the outside and silvery gleam, instead of the plain matte color that it would eventually don. 

Even so, it was time to board. Tweak, the Captain, and Inkling all clamored on. They decided to leave most everything at the port–this was pretty much just a test run, if anything. The plan was to move the thing from Florida, (the current place they were at,) to Alaska, then back. The Captain wanted to visit his sister, who was pregnant. They were just planning on stopping there to say hi, spend a night or two, then go back. They all decided that it was best to not bring anything important, just some clothes and other supplies. So, they got on. 

“Tweak, raise me up,” the Captain ordered, calm and collected. “You’ll be up there faster then I can finish sayin’ “buncha munchy crunchy c-' ''' and the Captain was up. It had been decided at that point that the Captain would mainly do steering in areas where the main IT worker couldn’t handle or couldn’t be as precise in. But, partially since they didn’t have that IT person at the moment and partially because the Captain wanted to practice, he’d be doing most of the steering. They’d have to stop around 4-6 times, because while the Octopod was faster than a regular ship, it wasn’t exactly supersonic. 

The first day went smoothly, and Tweak checked out the area they were gonna land in in the Gup A before they landed, just so they wouldn’t crush any creatures. (That’d go directly against their cause, after all.) Tweak made a mental note that once they got back to Florida she’d add a tracking/heat signal sort of thing to the Octopod so they wouldn’t have to check every time they wanted to land in a separate Gup. She’d be making a lot of those mental notes. 

Sleep was actually pretty good–The Captain was a bit concerned on how Inkling slept in the Library, or what would end up being the library, (Inkling had only brought a small amount of books, instead of filling up the entire thing like he would eventually) nevertheless though he always ended up seeming refreshed in the morning, so Barnacles let those worries fade away. Tweak thought about how she’d bring her gaming system down eventually. She had always played late into the night back at home, and she wanted to reflect that here, too. 

Tweak also realized she needed coffee. Just another idea for her to implement, she thought to herself, sighing. When she brought that up, though, to the Captain; “I’m not sure coffee’s a good idea. Not exactly a wonderful thing to rely on..” he said, and Inkling piped up from behind him. “Yes, he’s correct. Not all that healthy, nor is it good for.. Most parts of everyone.” Tweak sighed. “Hot cocoa then, maybe?” she asked, one hand on her hip and squinting a little, a slightly displeased look on her face. She was partly joking, in all honesty. Inkling lit up. “Wonderful idea, Tweak!” he exclaimed, and the Captain followed suit soon after. “I do believe that’d be better” he said. 

Tweak blinked in confusion, but she decided to not question it. Maybe she’d just.. Secretly add caffeine to her own. She shrugged. Good plan, Tweak! she thought to herself completely un-sarcastically. The next few days were relatively uneventful–say, besides a conversation or two. Actually, the Captain and Tweak had a somewhat interesting one about games; 

“I know y’ said ya played some ship-steering simulator games, but.. Any other games?” Tweak asked one night, when the Octopod had landed for the day. Her elbow was on a table and had a questioning expression laid on her face. “No, not really. Never been the type, I suppose.” he replied, and Tweak was a little sour. “Maybe I should get you into a game or two. You seem like the Meowdew valley type.” she said. She could certainly imagine him playing that game. “What’s that?” he asked, and Tweak grinned. “It’s just a little farming game with some dungeon and monster-slaying stuff on the side. Fun little characters, too. I like Baru a lot–she’s fun.” Tweak said. “Maybe I’ll give it a try,” the Captain said, before putting his hand to his mouth, yawning. “I best get to sleep now, though.” he said. Tweak grinned. “Night, then.” she said, waving goodbye as he flung himself down the Octoshoot. Tweak went to bed after that, too. Even if it was quite early for her. 

It seemed like the Captain enjoyed going to bed and waking up early, because Tweak felt the ship moving at around 6:00am. Inkling wasn’t good at the systems, but he could press the button to raise the Captain to the steering wheel just fine. Speaking of Inkling, he really appreciated something in particular Tweak had done–adding magnets in the floors of the Octopod, so he could sit on a specialized chair (also with magnets) that could easily move. Tweak had a better idea that he could control more easily, but this was just a temporary solution, as the chair had a button so that it could stay in place. 

The days passed uneventfully, and a few more stops later, they had arrived at their destination–Alaska. Even if they were just staying there a day or two, Tweak was a little worried about the systems freezing while they were there, but it was summer, so hopefully that wouldn’t be a problem. “Cap, Inkling, hop in the GUP A,” Tweak said, motioning towards the thing. The Captain quickly clamored in, helping Inkling in as well. Tweak climbed in afterwards, and they cruised out of the Octopod, and then the light from the angler-fish inspired GUP surfaced in the cold Alaskan waters, and the Captain hopped out. Tweak and Inkling were bundled up, while the Captain was just wearing normal clothes. They didn’t have proper uniforms yet, so all of them were wearing their day-to-day clothes. The Captain’s face lit up as a woman approached, and he ran over. “Bianca! It’s so good to see you!” he exclaimed, and the woman, who Tweak assumed was Bianca, hugged Barnacles lightly. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” she said, and the Captain faced towards Inkling and Tweak. “Professor, Tweak, this is my twin sister–Bianca.” he introduced, and the two of them waved. “I’m sorry it’s such a short visit, but I haven’t seen you in so long” the Captain said, and Bianca laughed. “It’s quite alright. Here, why don’t I lead you to my home?” she asked, and they all nodded. 

It was homey inside, and the Captain seemed excited to be there. “I will say, i’m excited to meet my niece and nephew,” Tweak overheard, remembering that his sister was pregnant. While she feared it would be a little boring, it was a nice change of style from the bleakness of the prototype Octopod. She’d make the real thing a lot nicer, more homey. She had a idea for that one pod they hadn’t really decided to do anything with–entertainment room. She decided ping-pong was a good idea. 

The day and a half went by uneventfully–Tweak didn’t end up talking too much to Bianca. Not because she didn’t like her or anything, it’s just she didn’t really get the chance to. Bianca and the Captain had a lot of catching up to do though, apparently. The two of them left once to go on an icy swim, which made Tweak shiver just thinking about it. She was also not accustomed to the coldness, either, especially being from Florida and living there all of her life prior to all of this stuff. 

She appreciated Bianca’s hospitality to no end, though. She made them food and provided them with things during their stay, and was just as nice when they hopped back inside the GUP A and headed back to the Octopod. It took a second to open up, but thankfully did. Luckily, nothing seemed to be frozen from first inspection, so Tweak thought they were in the clear. How wrong she’d been. 

A little more than halfway back from their journey—Tweak, at this point, had really thought that the icy temperature wouldn’t affect the ship at all, and only seemed to cause a few minor issues–Tweak was up and about. Since they had already done this route before, Tweak actually had an auto-pilot mode on to go back, but suddenly, the Octopod tilted, and Tweak felt her whole body slammed against the side of the Octopod’s window, her cheek squished up against the glass. “Oh me oh my–” she muttered, as she saw the Octopod had somehow swerved off course, and was going to head straight into a wall. She backed up, and hit the Octo-alert, and the WOOP, WOOP, sound echoed through the Octopod, and she shouted, “Everybody, to th’ launch bay!” as she jumped into the Octoshoot herself. She knew they were going to crash, and there was nothing she could do about it. She knew exactly what was wrong, too. She had seen it, but had figured it’d be fine. Now, it was blatantly obvious it wasn’t. She made it to the bay, and she saw the Captain and Inkling come out right after her from different shoots. “Everyone, into the GUP A!” the Captain said, and while that was already Tweak’s plan, she appreciated him saying it. 

He was a lot more commanding, and eventually they all got into it, and Tweak raced them out of there fast enough, and she turned the gup around as it crashed into the wall, dust stirring up. She felt tears in her eyes, but quickly wiped them away. “It was just a prototype, anywho..” she said. Sure, she knew this likely wasn’t going to be the last Octopod, but this was not the outcome she was expecting. Captain Barnacles was already looking at the map. “Tweak, do we have enough battery to get to Florida safely?” he asked, and Tweak pressed a few buttons. She grit her teeth. “It’d be cuttin’ it close. But we can make it.” she said, looking back at the Captain and Inkling. Captain Barnacles nodded. “Best not waste any time, then.” he ordered, and Tweak set course to Florida. 

Those few days were.. Something. They all decided it’d be best for them to get there as soon as possible, so Tweak and Barnacles took turns sleeping and steering, and eventually, a little less then a week later, (the Gup A was obviously slower then the Octopod had been) they were back in Florida. 

Inkling turned to Tweak. “Do you know what went wrong, particularly?” Tweak grimly nodded. “I know exactly what happened. I’m gonna make sure it won’t happen again.” she stated, and both the Captain and Inkling nodded. “Do you think the next version will have problems again?” he asked, and Tweak shook her head. “I know exactly what went wrong, exactly how to fix it, and how to fix some other minor issues. I don’t think there’ll need to be another Octopod after this next one.” she said. He looked to Barnacles, then back to Tweak. “So, we could possibly start looking for people in other positions? For example, the medic or IT person?” he asked, and Tweak nodded. “Maybe in a few months, when it’s a little further along. You’ll have to make another trip to Brit-land, Inkling. I have a feeling it might be easier to get some of the bigger materials I need there, too.” she said, and both Inkling and the Captain nodded. “I wouldn’t mind going as well,” he said, and Tweak nodded to that. “I’ll get together a list, we should meet at the library tomorrow.” 

And that they would do, the next day all three met in the library and discussed the plans. The idea was the Professor and the Captain would go back to Britain to get the materials Tweak needed. Tweak could get a lot done while they were away, though. She also had a few people who were willing to work there to make it go by quicker and make it better–given that she'd worked on the prototype by herself. A lot of people had recently graduated from an engineering school, and most were looking for work, so this could help them out while they looked for more permanent jobs. 

Tweak grinned. They had a plan, and soon, they’d have a full crew. 

[dirtroadtooutofhere]

Chapter 1 - "Rumors of Canada" Raymond

I was leaning down, focused on the engine of our beat-up station wagon, when a loud crack! sound caused me to jump back, hitting my head against the popped hood. Messaging the back of my head, I turned to see my best friend Max running down the steps into the garage, flailing a wrinkled piece of paper in front of her.

“Raymond! Raymond! You are NOT going to believe this.”

“I sure hope not to, if it’s worth kicking the door in over.”

She didn’t bother to ask if I was okay. Instead, she hurriedly flattened the piece of parchment over the engine block, grinning with even more wild enthusiasm than usual. It was an old interstate map, covered in her rabid handwriting. A handful of colored lines traced from Key West (where we are) all the way up to the US-Canadian border. Tapping her finger where all the lines ended, she declared: “We’re going to Canada!”

My eyes darted around her face in confusion. She’d clearly lost it, and I figured I’d communicate this clearly and concisely to her. “Max. It is in my humble professional opinion, that all your marbles, every last one of your marbles, have gone to Canada, and left you behind.”

“I’m serious, Raymond! I heard that it’s completely safe. They’ve fortified the country, restarted civilization, and kept it completely zombie-free!”

The few other survivors down here are – how do I put this lightly – whack jobs. Not in the stupid or insane way, no, just the gullible and desperate way. Maybe the Floridian heat and boredom of the apocalypse got to them. Maybe it’s finally getting to Max, if she’d believe such a fantastical rumor. The doubt dripping from my face must have been pretty obvious, enough to make her turn around and head for the broadband radio we found a couple months ago. Switching it to AM, she quickly tuned down to 15 Mega-hertz, then crawled through the individual frequencies, searching for a specific signal.

“You’re not gonna find anything, you know. I’ve tried it a thousand times.”

“Shh!”

I let slip a faint sigh. When my friend sets her mind on something, she can be impossible to deal with. She has a hard time gauging when her determination has slipped into plain stubbornness. After a few minutes, she lifted her hand from the knob, and silently waved me over. I knelt down next to her and put my ear next to the speaker, just to humor her.

Part of me hoped that I’d be wrong. That I’d hear something about a safe-zone established by our far-north neighbors. All we got was static.

Max waited expectantly. I gave it a couple more minutes, but I was starting to grow tired of the futility, and was about to leave when she turned the radio back off. Her eyebrows pinched down a little, but she didn’t look nearly as dejected as I expected her to.

“Okay, well! So the radio isn’t picking anything up. We’re across the entirely of America, I think it’s fair to assume any transmissions from up there wouldn’t quite reach. But we still gotta try! Do you wanna stay on this boiling little island for the rest of your life? Scavenging increasingly sparse resources and constantly worrying about stray zombies?”

Patience and pragmatism are something I pride myself in. I’m not the type to make irrational or impulsive travel plans through the hordes that cover the mainland. The apocalypse, however, is very easy to get sick of. After a year and a half of barely scraping by, even a long-shot possibility of escaping the undead starts to sound pretty good. Hell, if any country could hold back the zombie apocalypse, it’d be one with low population density, and already used to relative isolation and extreme circumstances. I hesitate, but decide it’s still not a good idea.

Before I can tell her no, though, she says something stupid about being a ‘dream team’. Her athletics and zombie-killing proficiency, my mechanical knowledge and wits. Our combined experience dominating the Florida Keys. That we really do have a shot at making it, if I ‘stopped being such a fucking pussy’.

“I’m perfectly fine being a coward, if it means I’m a living one, Max!”

“Are you really a living coward? Or are you just a surviving coward?”

It’s maybe one of the dumbest things I’ve heard her say, but I still choked on a good response.

She smirked, and I immediately lost the argument.

[usafphantom2]

What really happens to military pilots who desert to U.S. allied countries

Many settle down to live a quiet life, enjoying their newly discovered freedom.

Fernando Valduga By Fernando Valduga 02/26/2023 - 15:34 in History, Military

Deserters to the U.S. and other West-oriented countries usually bring military equipment with them - especially pilots. The hardware, in addition to its detailed knowledge of the armed forces of potential opponents, means that deserters have a lot to negotiate.

One of the most memorable scenes in the 1990 movie "The Hunt for Red October" is when the first officer of the Red October submarine, played by Sam Neill, describes how he would like to live as a deserter. "I would like to live in Montana," says Captain Borodin, who then describes how he would like to get married, have a pickup truck, maybe a trailer and travel from one state to another... without having to carry travel documents with him.

In 1981, Lieutenant Adriano Bomba decided to desert to South Africa in his aged Mozambican Mig 17 (serial number 21) and was intercepted and escorted by two SAAF F1AZ Mirage fighters.

It turns out that this is how deserters really live when they arrive in the West. After a decades-long hiatus, the news that a Russian engineer who worked on the country's bomber program is seeking asylum in the U.S. has brought the issue of deserters back into the spotlight.

Belenko's MiG-25, after landing in Japan.

Historically, it is known that pilots and others from totalitarian countries - including North Korea, the Soviet Union and Cuba - fly to freedom in distressing circumstances, facing an uncertain reception, only to be considered heroes in their new land. And they, apparently, like to travel around America without papers.

“Kenneth Rowe”

Lieutenant No Kum-Sok of the North Korean Air Force was one of the first pilots to defect to the United States. No separated from a formation of 16 jets and piloted his MiG-15 from North Korea to the Kimpo airfield in South Korea in October 1953, three months after the armistice that silenced weapons on the Korean peninsula. However, No was not the first MiG-15 pilot to fly west: two Polish pilots flew their planes to Denmark in separate incidents in the spring of 1953, but No was the first from North Korea.

U.S. intelligence extensively questioned No and studied his plane for comparison with the main U.S. jet fighter of the time, the F-86 Sabre. He provided valuable information, according to his American advisor, including "air units, personnel strength, structure and number of aircraft assigned to the respective units". The No fighter received markings from the U.S. Air Force (see above) and was sent to the U.S. for analysis.

After considerable flight tests, the U.S. offered to return the plane to its "legitimate owners". The offer was ignored and, in November 1957, was transferred to the U.S. Air Force Museum for public display.

Pilot No's MiG-15 is now on display at the USAF Museum in Dayton.

In the then disappeared in the vastness of America, taking the name of Kenneth Rowe. He became an American citizen in 1962, graduated in mechanical engineering and began working in the defense industry. In his later years, he was a professor of engineering at Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University in Daytona Beach, Florida. At one point, his daughter asked why he changed jobs and moved with his family, and he replied: "This is a big country and I want to get to know every part of it."

A pair of "Farmers"

Other North Korean pilots followed suit. In 1983, Captain Lee Ung-pyong flew his MiG-19 jet to South Korea and defected. In two years, Lee was a colonel working in South Korean military intelligence and a millionaire - all thanks to South Korea's generous rewards for deserters.

A MiG-19 fighter piloted by Captain Lee Ung-pyong of the North Korean People's Air Force when he defected to South Korea in 1983. Today, the fighter is parked in an open-air museum in Seoul.

In May 1996, Captain Lee Chul-su, a senior pilot in the 1st Aviation Division, also defected with his MiG-19, to which he promptly joined the South Korean Air Force. According to the Korean Times, Lee served in the "ROK Air Force combat development group and other pilot training organizations" and gave lectures "on various subjects, including North Korean flight skills and tactics".

Foxbat flight

One of the most famous deertions of all time occurred in September 1976. Lieutenant Viktor Ivanovich Belenko of the 513 Fighter Regiment, 11th Air Army of the Russian Air Force took off in his MiG-25 fighter jet, codenamed "Foxbat" by NATO, from Chuguyevka Air Base in the Soviet Union. He would never come back. Instead, Belenko flew his jet to Hakodate, Japan, where he delivered his jet and announced his intentions to defect.

Notebook that Belenko used attached to his knee.

Belenko was one of the biggest prizes of the Cold War. The MiG-25 was considered a superhunt, capable of flying Mach 3. The Foxbat was built to defend the USSR from the equally fast strategic bomber XB-70 Valkyrie. It was also known to have a powerful Smerch-A3 radar and carry up to four radar-directed R-40 air-to-air missiles. Unfortunately, after U.S. intelligence was able to study the aircraft in depth, the Japanese authorities decided to return the aircraft to the Soviet Union.

MiG-25 aircraft was returned by Japan to the Soviet Union.

After the desertion, Belenko moved to the United States, where former President Jimmy Carter personally approved his citizenship. He also became an aeronautical engineer and consultant. The CIA, which questioned him after his desertion, considers his pilot's knee brace one of his most famous artifacts of the Cold War era. A people location site shows that he has lived in all major regions of the U.S., including west, midwest, northeast and south.

The reason

Viktor Belenko, along with pilots from the Top Gun School in the USA, after a flight in the F-5 jet.

Pilots who desert often do so for ideological reasons, preferring freedom and democracy to the suffocating control of authoritarian regimes. At the climax of "The Hunt for Red October", Captain Borodin, dying of a shot, whispers: "I wish I had visited Montana". Although fictitious, Borodin's character expresses a desire apparently mirrored - and lived - by real-life deserters.

Source: Popular Mechanics

Tags: Military AviationKorean WarCold WarHISTORYWar Zones

Fernando Valduga

Fernando Valduga

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

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[earnestlyegos]

*(gracefully) chucks back the qna ping pong ball*

In an ideal world, what would each of you be doing rn? What would yall be going for work? Where would you be living?

oohhh thats a good one! sorry if answers are a bit incoherent, just woke from the most mind fogging nap ever

Yancy

id say for him he’d wanna be hanging with V right now, planning a date or something because hes a fat sap like that. either that or doodling or something! yancy honestly struggles to see himself working, considering he went to prison for 15 years and he understands thats gonna be on his record for a WHILE! otherwise he’d like something hands on, like a mechanic or something! hes a very kinetic guy. as for living? anywhere thats at least a city! maybe Lawrence, Kansas. (for a different job hed actually enjoy working at an icecream store!!)

Eric

eric would probably prefer to be just, hanging out right now too! he doesnt like the outside world too much, so he doesnt mind chatting with people over the internet all day! for a job?? probably zoo keeper that works with the birds or big cats! if not that, definitely a professional taxidermist. eric doesnt mind living anywhere really, as long as its safe and not too overstimulating. so definitely not new york! but not somewhere too rural either. (FOR A DIFFERENT JOB HE WOULD TOTALLY WORK AT A CAT CAFE)

Mark

i think mark would rather be doing just about anything different from what we’re currently doing— most likely our legos! his first answer for a job was to serve his captain, so ill save you from the painful amount of cliche shit this man might say! he would most definitely like to, well, engineer! he did study architecture, so he is somewhat interested in that! and for living? preferably a city, and one that isnt warm!

me!

id also kinda prefer to be doing something else than what im doing rn! currently on a 17 hour roadtrip to Florida! im okay with roadtrips, but going places like Colorado is a lot more fun cause you have some BEAUTIFUL scenery!! if i could work any job?? probably a youtuber! (wow, surprise! the guy with the mark egos wants to be markiplier!!) anyhow, i would probably say a film maker or a voice actor. either those or a video game designer! and living? honestly right now, Tulsa, OK. nice little city once you get to know it, went there for college!

anyhow, sorry for the long responses!! and including myself, considering its the egos blog-

and for the ball i was kinda thinking green and black because, doesnt it match your colors??

(written by damien)

[miamimarinesurveyorfl]

What to Look for in a Marine Survey Report: Jacksonville's Key Insights

When it comes to purchasing a boat or yacht, one crucial step that should never be overlooked is getting a thorough marine survey report. Marine surveyors play a vital role in ensuring the safety and seaworthiness of a vessel, making it essential to choose the right professionals for the job. If you are in Jacksonville, Florida, and in need of marine surveyors, look no further than marine surveyors jacksonville. Sun Coast Marine Surveying & Consulting is a leading company that offers top-notch marine surveying services in Jacksonville. Their team of experienced and knowledgeable marine surveyors jacksonville are experts in evaluating the condition of various types of vessels, including yachts, sailboats, and commercial boats. With their attention to detail and commitment to excellence, Sun Coast Marine Surveying & Consulting sets the standard for marine surveyors in Jacksonville Florida. When reviewing a marine survey report, there are several key insights to look for to ensure a comprehensive assessment of the vessel's condition. One essential aspect to consider is the structural integrity of the boat. A thorough marine survey will inspect the hull, deck, rigging, and other structural components to identify any signs of damage or deterioration. By choosing marine surveyors jacksonville, you can trust that every inch of your vessel will be meticulously inspected for potential issues. Another critical factor to pay attention to in a marine survey report is the evaluation of the boat's mechanical systems. From the engine and propulsion system to electrical components and plumbing, a comprehensive assessment of the vessel's mechanical systems is crucial for ensuring its safe operation. Marine surveyors in Jacksonville Florida, such as those from Sun Coast Marine Surveying & Consulting, have the expertise to thoroughly evaluate all mechanical systems and provide recommendations for any necessary repairs or maintenance. In addition to assessing the structural and mechanical aspects of the vessel, a marine survey report should also include an analysis of safety equipment and compliance with industry standards. Life-saving equipment such as life jackets, fire extinguishers, and emergency signaling devices should be inspected to ensure they are in proper working order. Compliance with regulations set forth by organizations like the United States Coast Guard and American Boat and Yacht Council is essential for maintaining a safe and seaworthy vessel. Furthermore, a comprehensive marine survey report should address any potential environmental concerns related to the vessel. Proper disposal of waste, prevention of oil spills, and adherence to clean boating practices are all important considerations for boat owners to minimize their impact on the marine environment. Marine surveyors jacksonville from Sun Coast Marine Surveying & Consulting understand the importance of environmental stewardship and include assessments of these factors in their reports. Choosing the right marine surveyors in Jacksonville Florida is essential for ensuring the safety and value of your vessel. With their expertise and dedication to excellence, Sun Coast Marine Surveying & Consulting stands out as a trusted provider of marine surveying services in Jacksonville. Whether you are buying or selling a boat, investing in a thorough marine survey report is a wise decision that can help protect your investment and ensure the enjoyment of your vessel for years to come. Contact marine surveyors jacksonville today to schedule a comprehensive evaluation of your boat or yacht.

marine surveyors jacksonville

[carbon--14]

i have been stalking looking at your blog and not to be weird but i love you (in a mutuals way not a stalker way) also please tell me more abt your rocket scientist life i’m very intrigued if you’re interested in sharing.

hi nonnie why don't you come off anon and say hello properly ;))) jk. are we mutuals? or do i owe u a follow O___O

seriously though it's not even 1 pm and today has legitimately been one of the worst days of my life (family stuff, don't ask) so this was super needed and appreciated. thx for the little giggle lolz

anyway yeah aerospace/astronautical engineering is kind of a weird place to be :P it's kinda niche and the workload is insane, so people burn out quick and the ones who stick around actually enjoy it a little too much tbch. the vibes are a little weird because half of my classmates are like me and there because it's a long time special interest they're willing to commit several years to and the others are obsessed with military tech and really want to be a part of that development. and they're pleasant people to be around, like they're polite and stuff, but i have actually had a conversation with a classmate who told me (and i'm quoting here) "well, i'm not the one pulling the trigger, so i'm not responsible for anything." and his ideal career paths were working on stealth bombers or hypersonics :///// yikes. there's a reason we're not taught ethics especially since military contractors are the primary ones snapping us up for jobs right out of school. ironically though the actual rotc kids are the nicest of that bunch and tend to be super collaborative and friendly? but i'm not joking in one of my first year classes we took a poll of the group's favorite movies and i shit you not over 50% of the class said one of the two top gun movies and another 15% said interstellar X__X (mine is scott pilgrim btw cuz i have taste)

luckily the yippee creatures of the class are very aware of how fucked up the industry is and willing to talk about it so there's still hope. my personal strat is to make myself a very competitive candidate for a very niche subset of the industry without very many "defense" applications lol. :D especially since a lot of those "defense" jobs are in the middle of nowhere in like, texas and alabama and florida. so not exactly the greatest places for me to be. i'm super interested in ion thruster design and development and there's a couple of startups on the west coast that are working on that so i'm crossing my fingers. tbch i am so fed up with the actual industry that i'm genuinely considering going all-in on my online "content creator™" presence just to have some shot at avoiding it. i have been having an actual existential crisis for about 3 weeks wondering if i actually made the right choices in life

but yeah the actual workload will crush your will to live unless you actually enjoy it. my classes this semester consist of incompressible fluid dynamics, dynamics control systems, structural mechanics, numerical methods, and astronomical computer simulation development >_< i'm gonna dieeeee!! and probably need an insane glasses prescription by the end of the year with the amount of coding work i have to do. plus i'm trying to score a research position and finishing up a senior-level independent study lol AND this semester i'll be driving back and forth between school and home (which is three hours each way eugh) to go to concerts and shit with my dad, but hey free tix are free tix. so in case you were wondering why i barely draw anymore, this is my life now X__X alsoalso my faculty advisor for the independent study is nonbinary and giving me job advice! they're super cool i love them foreverrrr

as for my actual hands on experience i'll admit it's limited :PP mostly because it's super hard to score industry experience before the summer before junior year and i was in recovery the whole summer so i literally couldn't hold myself upright for more than a few minutes. but i've done a bunch of projects for classes + uni-funded ones too!! my biggest claim to fame (lol) is working on a three-stage rocket designed to fly to the karman line (which is the Super Official Divide Between The Atmosphere And Space™ lol). everything except our motor was built in-house and i worked on structural design and analysis, so my job consisted of

a) working on and approving cad models of each component before we sent them to the fabrication team,

b) stress-testing all parts the fab team sent us to ensure they were flight ready (there is a picture of me somewhere sitting on a chair precariously balanced on top of three sandbags on top of a giant tube filled with more sand and our nosecone, because sand under enough pressure puts a similar kind of stress on a nosecone as it experiences in flight),

c) fixing any uneven surfaces or manufacturing errors on our parts, and

d) doing so. much. documentation. i have to be totally honest, like 75% of aero/astro e is writing the most boring papers you will ever read in your life :[

and i also built a 3d cad model of the opportunity mars rover from scratch with only official promo pics and rover "selfies" and that thing crashed the lab computers twice and took a week's worth of 8 hour days in the lab + 3 all-nighters. fml but she was so worth it thooooo

sorrysorrysorry nonnie that was probably 10x more info than you were expecting but tl;dr i'm the world's biggest weirdo who actually loves physics and rocketry so i enjoy everything i'm doing in class but the actual job search is hell on earth and i dread the day i graduate :/ for now it's still mostly fun

[boatingforbeginners]

Common Problems and Defects Marine Surveyors Find on Boats

In case you are asking, a marine surveyor is basically a professional who inspects and evaluates the condition and value of marine vessels. You must, however, note that not every surveyor is equipped to do a great job. To be on the safe side, only work with a marine surveyor Baltimore who is a member of a recognized accreditation association like SAMS or NAMS.

A qualified marine surveyor Baltimore will find various problems and defects that exist on a marine vessel. Some of the common problems and defects that marine surveyors find include the following:

Hull Damage

The most common issues here are cracks, blisters, delamination, osmosis, corrosion, or impact damage on the hull. These issues can compromise the structural integrity and water-tightness of the boat. Hull damage can be caused by poor design, construction, maintenance, or accidents. In most cases, you need a trained eye to find these problems. That is where a marine surveyor comes in.

Deck and Cockpit Damage

The issues here include leaks, cracks, rot, or soft spots on the deck and cockpit. These problems can affect the safety and comfort of the boat. There are many causes of deck and cockpit damage. The most common causes are exposure to weather, UV rays, moisture, or stress.

Electrical System Failure

This includes faulty wiring, connections, switches, fuses, batteries, or devices, which can cause fire, shock, or malfunction of the boat. Electrical system failure can be caused by improper installation, corrosion, overload, or simply wear and tear.

Plumbing System Failure

This includes leaks, clogs, or contamination of the water, fuel, or waste systems. If not rectified, these problems can cause pollution, health hazards, or performance issues of the boat. Plumbing system failure can be caused by substandard quality, poor installation, or poor maintenance of the pipes, hoses, tanks, pumps, or valves.

Steering System Failure

This may include loose, worn, or broken components of the steering system, such as the wheel, helm, cable, hydraulic, or rudder. These problems affect the manoeuvrability and control of the boat. Steering system failure can be caused by stress, corrosion, or lack of lubrication.

Propulsion System Failure

These are problems related to the engine, transmission, propeller, shaft, or drive. As you may have already guessed, these issues will affect the speed, power, and efficiency of the boat. Propulsion system failure can be caused by mechanical, electrical, or fuel issues, such as overheating, misalignment, vibration, or contamination. In most cases, the boat surveyor will use specialized equipment like thermal imaging to identify problems.

The above is not a complete list. The best you can do is bring in a certified marine surveyor every now and then to inspect the condition of your boat. Keep in mind that the longer you take to fix boat issues, the worse they will get and the more unsafe your vessel will become.

Are you in Baltimore or anywhere in Florida? If you are, Suncoast Marine Surveying can help you document all the issues that your vessel might have. The team is also available for a consultation and boat appraisal. Get in touch today to find out more.

[the-firebird69]

There's a huge I'll cry from the public on people like the max they're saying that we can do something about reflectors but we can't do anything about a head on being we don't know where it is since they didn't tell anybody and it said we didn't tell anyone so we could take care of it... So it's a problem for them it's going on now and it is happening right now

This is a huge day all we're having issues here we do need assistance there's a lot of changes coming very rapid changes

-Hera says I love you too to her husband and he says if I wasn't doing this to you you wouldn't lose you would lose your interest she says no you stupid pecker head and he says that's American right there.

-real changes are coming here and they're really big and we will delete several of them

+John remillard is out of here and there's a lot of people saying it they want him out of their shop out of their face out of their businesses and their community and they are doing it and he is getting out he is out of Homeland security and his people are being removed rapidly cuz being removed by the from local government and they are working on the building department. And there are three positions that they intended on hiring him from firing him from not hiring today in Charlotte county he has been fired from none of them yet but they fully intended to and they are working on trying to do it today and trying to get him to come in and they are going around town trying to get them there they can't seem to do it tomorrow they plan to farm from two more jobs and on Friday five jobs so many jobs you never goes to them please so our son says just fired the guy that's there and they might do that cuz of the pain in the ass and they're hired as the guy that's there no it doesn't matter yeah there's a lot of people who are upset with him bja is doing the firing and they're going to try and get him out of here there are other things they are firing him from and they are the lead prosecutor for the attorney general of the United States it is a top dog Job and he has no right being there he is a terrorist and he's on the terrorist list 5 million top brass TC people of different races and different groups in DC want him out and there's only 10 million up there and the rest are not very many trumpsters only like 5%. And yeah out of the hole too. Now there's a couple other things going on

-there are about 50 other miscreants they're seeking on special warrant and they're going after them for a multitude of crimes and some of which have to do with John remillard and they keep saying that he's the only one doing it it is a pseudo empire doing it and they are moving in and they do have a higher percentage now this afternoon the morlock had 3.5% in Florida and the pseudo empire 1.5% now the morlock have almost 3% and they're going down to it and the pseudo empire is approaching 2% they'll be there at 5:00 p.m. both for them it is abysmal and that is all types of morlock this place will have no more luck in it except for some pseudo empire and Stan and Mac are going to join miscellaneous along with Ken and will and Bill and her son is kind of in there it's like a hodgepodge but there's a lot of engineers and scientists from different groups who are kind of stuck here and there's some more going on too and Stan is a mechanical engineer. And has worked on a lot of our son's inventions and he says the seat is not rated for his weight and he knows that but he needs to make it slide easier he suggest soap and I thought that would work but it does get dumbed up gummed up you might try it but he's going to look it up there's other things going on and they're huge

-the diamonds are being mined and they're going after a small ones but they are going after a ton of them and they really should and they're dwindling and they need to push it and these guys are quitting and they're moving out real fast and they're getting it done but mostly they're in the sand and today they are at it's about 4 miles to 20 mi they're going after the layer it is below the 80 ft that the others went to and they're going to go down to the bottom and that is to the calcite shell there's about 2 miles thick and our son has to move if they start removing the diamonds from the tunnels the small ones out to about 5 mi or fine it will slowly depressurize mostly the mainland but if you go out 5 miles to 20 and they start doing that he has to temporary temporarily relocate this place maybe in a lot of trouble and it depends on how it goes but we of course cannot allow it that time is approaching it is approaching quite rapidly out to 20 miles we think that will be cleared of diamonds in about 3 days including today and he says that is not really that fast that's not really that fast but it is for what what area they're doing and he didn't realize that but they are clearing an area it's quite vast and the mainland will start to dry and settle probably about a foot in most areas and kind of uniform and there'll be a lot of grouting going on some foundations will crack most of them were built pretty hefty because they know that they would be floating big buildings are going to need to be adjusted several times and they can do it a few times but this will be a huge event a depressurizing the mainland will cause the rainwater to flow out faster foliage will start to grow a little bit better then it will not have enough water in some areas will become dry they're ready for that are also a few other things happening but this will drop the water level from about 9 ft if the rain stopped at low tide it would be 9 ft down but the rains are always here for the most part but during the winter usually it's dry and it would be down 9 ft but next winter all the stuff will be washed away by then but when this 20 mile area is clear possibly in 3 days it will drop down to 11 ft but in reality you will see the change it will be visible low tide will be about 4 ft down and high tide will be always one to 2 ft down below the clip the high clan mark. That's a big change that represents a huge geological change here the water is going to start receding even more so because the water level in the harbors and rivers and lakes and streams will be very low and the pressure from down below will see how quicker although that's going to continue until they remove smaller diamonds but they don't plan to do that in a week from now they plan to start going after 20 miles to 50 miles and they're much faster than the warlock it still takes actual time and 20 miles to 50 miles will drop that deck out there about 40 ft in a gradient but 40 ft on average and the level will drop here from 11:00 down to probably about 14 it's very low and 14 foot down these canals will be dry until it rains and it's really not right and it's going to get lower and lower and the canals will be empty and they might put in functioning locks and let it fill to create the atmosphere and for boating or they might fill them in I'm thinking is that will be a mixture depending on the area but most people will want them filled in cuz they will stink they're tired of the threats and they don't go boating and they can care less there are a few more changes but we're going to print this is pretty big

Thor Freya

Olympus

Zues Hera

[jobrxiv]

Postdoctoral associate in physics-data blending modeling at FSU Florida A&M University-Florida State University College of Engineering See the full job description on jobRxiv: https://jobrxiv.org/job/florida-am-university-florida-state-university-college-of-engineering-27778-postdoctoral-associate-in-physics-data-blending-modeling-at-fsu/?feed_id=55999 #ScienceJobs #hiring #research Tallahassee #UnitedStatesUS #PostdoctoralFellow

[maureenmc1]

The Only Father's Day Story I Have

My mother was a monster and my father was a ghost, so holidays are not happy days for me. Both of my parents were drunks and both had explosive tempers when they drank. As a child, I thought that I had to give my parents on their "special day." Since my mother favored store-bought gifts over handmade ones and my father simply did not care, my childish efforts at gift-giving tended to be met with open derision or stony silence.

My father in particular was a paradox. He had wanted to be a doctor but his mother forced him to go to Georgia Tech and become a mechanical engineer. Over the years he became more and more unhappy with his occupation and finally gave it up to enter into his true vocation: owning a liquor store in a rundown area close to downtown Atlanta.

As time went on, my father's political beliefs began to change. He went from being a run-of-the-mill Republican to becoming a member of the John Birch Society. He didn't speak much at home, but when he did, it was to rail against the Catholics and the Jews, and of course, people of color. He used the N-word prolifically. He also introduced me to a wide range of racial and ethnic slurs that hurtfully rang in my tiny ears.

The year I turned seventeen, I graduated from high school and enrolled at the University of Georgia. I made good my escape although it pained me to leave my siblings in the clutches of my mother. Shortly after I graduated, my father well and truly ghosted his family. He moved to Florida where he could not be dunned for child support. My mother had not worked since she was a Rosie the Riveter in Warner Robins, Georgia, building aircraft for the U.S. armed forces during World War II. Before he left, my father cleaned out the family bank account. This left my mother with no money, no job, a mortgage to pay and four children in elementary and high school.

I cut ties with my mother after I came home for Christmas during my junior year at UGA. Pretty much since I could remember, her holiday routine had consisted of everyone opening the presents under the tree and a big family breakfast, followed by her beating the shit out of me. She used to avoid bruising any area that would show in public. This year, though, she didn't give a damn about what the people in Athens thought, so she sent me back to school with a split lip and cuts and bruises all over my body.

From that point on, I lived in Athens full-time. Life was good. I had a wonderful group of friends. Most of them did not know about my home life, but they graciously took me to theirs to meet their parents. University courses were the sustenance I had been craving, so along with my major political science courses, I branched out into journalism, pottery, and many philosophy classes. My battered heart began to heal. Every day was one of exploration and wonderment.

Life was not easy, but I had the energy and enthusiasm to meet the challenges that inevitably came to a poor college student. For employment the summer after my junior year, I applied to work for the Urban Corps in Atlanta. This was a program where college students interned for nonprofits. In my case, I applied to work in the Wheat Street Garden Apartments, which was owned by Wheat Street Baptist Church.

For those unfamiliar with Atlanta geography, Wheat Street is next door to Ebeneezer Baptist, the church where Daddy King and Martin Luther King, Jr. preached. While in high school, I taught the two oldest King, Jr. children how to swim at the first integrated day camp in Atlanta. Coretta came to pick the children most days, always asking me to report on their deportment. A year later, she asked me to work for a few days at the SCLC office because the files were a mess and needed to reorganized.

I did not have a car so I either took the bus or walked everywhere. The SCLC office was located in the same block ad the Royal Peacock club and a Black radio station. I would walk down there from Peachtree Street, about a mile away. There is something very special about Sweet Auburn Avenue and the best way to experience it is on foot.

Reverend John Howard and another person from the church interviewed people seeking the Urban Corps position at Wheat Street. Their first question to me was, "How did you get here today?" I told them about my very pleasant walk. Before I left the interview, they told me I was hired. I am convinced that walking down Sweet Auburn got me the job.

I was hired as one of a team of seven people who would be working in the housing project. My title was Social Work Assistant. My job encompassed helping people get assistance from the proper governmental agencies, as well checking on the residents and settling any disputes among them. I also got to work with the kids and the local gang.

A few weeks into the summer, Reverend Howard asked to speak to me privately. Our headquarters for the summer was a nearly empty apartment. We sat on the floor for our team meetings, but one room had two chairs in it. This is where Reverend Howard would hold one-on-one counselling sessions with anyone who needed advice about their job.

After everyone else left, we went into the room with the chairs and sat down. I will never forget what he said next. "Maureen, Bettye and I have been talking. We would like to adopt you. We can't legally do it, of course, but we want you to become a part of our family. You can spend all your holidays with us, and when you need help, we will be here for you, just as if we were your real parents. You've never really had a father, and I want to be that for you, if you will let me."

I sat there as tears began running down my cheeks. After a few moments, I said, "Yes. I would like that very much." "Good," he replied, "Now you'd better get to work. The lady in 307 thinks her neighbor is trying to put a voodoo hex on her. I told her you will be up to see her this morning."

Nothing else was said. Nothing else needed to be said. For the next few weeks, I was thrilled. I had a father. And a mother. There were people in this world who loved and wanted me! Just for myself! The world was expanding into vast new possibilities. I felt incredibly blessed.

A few weeks later, it was the first of the month. Reverend Howard went to the rent office so that people could drop off their rent. A gunman entered, took the rent money, and shot Reverend Howard dead.

It was a Saturday and I went to Athens to look for housing for the coming year. When the team was finally able to get in touch with me, I sped back to Atlanta, straight to the projects. Ben and Dennis, two of my team members, and I spent the night walking through Wheat Street Gardens, consoling and commiserating with some people, and talking down others who swaggered around with their guns in plain sight, making vague threats.

It was a tense night, and an even more tense day the next day. Bettye decided to bury John in a private service, with just their son Ben and her attending. Within a few weeks, Bettye would also die. I have always believed she died of a broken heart.

I only had a father for a few weeks, but within time I got a tiny glimmer of what it looks like to have a father's love. It wasn't much, but it was enough. On this Father's Day, i would like to say, "God bless you, John Rogers Howard and Bettye Howard. May you and all beings be well and happy upon whatever plane you may dwell."

[electronichideouttriumph]

Truck and Trailer Repair - expert truck and fleet repair - Mobile Truck Repair

Whether it's regular upkeep or a more complicated problem, we are professionals in trailer repair service in Secret West and the Lower Florida Keys. We provide trailer repair work solutions to meet your requirements. Larry's Mobile Services has been functioning full-time as a mobile truck & trailer technician in the Defiance, OH location for many years. We are dependable, sincere mobile auto mechanics that make use of top quality parts and guarantee all of our repairs. CSTK's Mobile Service Group is offered 24/7 to service or fix your trailer, wherever you require us.

My mobile trailer servicing as well as fixing service covers the majority of the south shore.

Randy is so nice, and also he truly knows what he is doing.

I was extremely pleased just how calm he was through the difficulties he encountered and also exactly how he handled to conquer them.

Rapid Truck & Trailer Repair service offers quality vehicle and trailer repair services to North Detroit, MI and also surrounding locations.

If you've obtained some manufacture work or engineering work you need done, then get in touch. Whether it's for relocating your lawn mower around or carrying your mini digger to site, goods and plant trailers are anticipated to work hard. Do not experience function down time obtaining it serviced, allow us take the hassle out of it by pertaining to you. We likewise provide DOT Assessments, Complete PM's as well as complete Fleet Services.

Steed Trailer Maintenance

This is why we set sensible and also possible time as well as budget plan quotes. We make every effort to use each specific our highest level of interest. Larry's Mobile Services aims to maintain our positive and just reputation. If we find it would certainly not be economical to do the repair when traveling, we have a complete truck a trailer repair shop available. With our nationwide network growing, Speedco is geared up with sophisticated tools and also tools to satisfy your needs. Speedco places are committed to obtaining you back on the road swiftly.

Trailer Repair Services

Aurora's advanced technology system is sustained by an industry-leading supply chain of three Item Distribution Centers and also a dedicated fleet of delivery lorries. Aurora's nationwide account program, FleetPerform, has over 1.5 million trailers registered in the program, or 25% of the UNITED STATE trailer fleet. Our professionals below at Three-way R Trailer Solution learn and also equipped with cutting edge tools to offer you the quality service you deserve. Get in touch for more info or to schedule a mobile trailer service. My family called "the technician without limits, boundaries or problems" the gear medical professional of Michigan, Michael Gilmore.

We can concern your work, house or storage center; something a great deal of our boat owning as well as horse trailer clients locate very helpful, as their trailers are often stored in compounds far from residence. Mike changed block heating unit and also inspected a few various other things, complete. Mike was amazing he constantly obtains my up and running the next day, an extremely reputable company to deal with. Mike was wonderful, required Sunday repair service and also he was with us in regarding a hr.

I was very amazed how calm he was with the challenges he ran into and just how he took care of to conquer them. I feel like Mike is an uncommon find as well as will definitely be maintaining his number for any kind of mechanical demands in the future. He likewise did an external inspection of my 5th wheel as well as his price was really practical taking into consideration the moment and also effort it took to finish the job. Goodyear Commercial Tire & Service Centers gives you with a network of emergency situation solution outlets. Readily available throughout the USA, these highly experienced industrial outlets can get you up and running swiftly. Count on us for every one of your trailer & vehicle fixings.

Right here at Larry's Mobile Services, no work is as well huge or too small for our knowledgeable team. We service any type of type of trailers, including livestock trailers, traveling trailers, campers, along with recreational vehicle and mobile truck repair in london mobile homes. We acknowledge the significance of convenient-reliable-professional mobile auto mechanic services.

Offering a completely mobile, insured, NTTA QSA solution in both trailer servicing as well as towbar installation. NTTA UK directory site of mobile trailer servicing listed by area. When you call Three-way R Trailer Service for mobile repair, trailers & tires, you will obtain a business that reacts with a passion to assist. Fast Vehicle & Trailer Repair gives high quality truck and trailer repair work to North Detroit, MI as well as surrounding areas. Is the leading carrier of Aftermarket solution options for sturdy trailering tools in The United States and Canada.

Patrick's Mobile

1825 Cherrywood Trail, London, ON N6H 5K1, Canada

519-630-8775

[germancardepotfl]

BMW Repair Service In Aventura

As a BMW owner living in Aventura, you may find yourself in need of a dependable and professional repair service from time to time. When it comes to BMW repair services, German Car Depot is the perfect solution for you. Conveniently located just 13 minutes away from your location, we are widely regarded as the top choice for BMW owners in the area.

With 30 years of experience in the industry and a team of ASE certified mechanics, we are well-equipped to provide top-notch repair services for your BMW. Our mechanics specialize in a wide range of BMW repair services, including engine diagnostics, brake service, suspension repair, and electrical troubleshooting. We use state-of-the-art diagnostic equipment and tools to ensure that we accurately identify and diagnose any issues with your BMW. Additionally, we use only the highest quality parts and materials for all our repairs to ensure the longevity and durability of your vehicle.

At German Car Depot, we understand that your BMW is a significant investment and a prized possession. Therefore, we take great pride in our work and strive to provide the best possible service to our customers. We believe in being transparent and honest with our customers throughout the repair process, so you will always know what to expect.

Our team is equipped with the knowledge and resources to tackle any BMW repair job, whether it be routine maintenance, major repairs, or performance upgrades. We have extensive experience working with BMWs of all models and years, so you can trust that your vehicle is in good hands.

In addition to our BMW repair services, we also offer pre-purchase inspections, detailing, and other services to help keep your BMW running smoothly and looking great. We understand that your time is valuable, and we always strive to provide prompt and efficient service to get you back on the road as quickly as possible.

In conclusion, German Car Depot is your go-to choice for reliable and expert BMW repair service in Aventura. With our 30 years of experience and ASE certified mechanics, we provide exceptional repair services that are second to none. Our commitment to customer satisfaction, transparent communication, and high-quality workmanship make us the top choice for BMW owners in the area.

We prioritize providing dependable and trustworthy BMW repair services to owners in the area, and take great pride in delivering exceptional customer service and satisfaction. If you live in any of these zip codes and need BMW repair or maintenance services, don't hesitate to contact us today. Our experienced mechanics are standing by to help get you back on the road.

Residents of Aventura who are interested in our location will be pleased to know that the German Car Depot is conveniently situated just a short drive away from most of the zip codes in the area, including 33180 Aventura, Florida.

[vicantii]

Greetings! From A Much Better Time!

I can’t believe after 4 years I would still be doing this. I originally started doing these “updates” from pure boredom and now they seem so important for me to stop. It seems I’ve been doing one every two years so I will try my best to keep up!

A lot has happened. A LOT. Let’s see, in 2021 I moved on from that super annoying mechanic job at T.G. Lee to a more sus but intriguing upcoming company named Ocado, an engineering firm working with Kroger to do delivery-only service in Florida as a maintenance engineer. It was pretty damn promising too, with a shiny new building and brand new equipment and a really cool robot material handling concept. The only issue was the terrible management and organization there that quite literally deteriorated everyone’s social life and planning. The hours were terrible, the night<-->day shift rotations were annoying, and the constant bugs and hassles from upper management made that job go from a seemingly cutting edge concept to another hellhole, so of course I had to get out of there. I was able to land a gig at Universal Orlando where I became a technician for Cat In The Hat. It was an overall weird experience there, with a diverse group of co-workers and really opened my eyes on the behind-the-scenes of theme parks. I thought I could see myself staying there for long, but the constant harassment, bullying, mudslinging, favoritism, and degradation I was observing and going through made me need to get out. After a LOT of rejected applications, I finally was able to land a REAL engineering job! I am now a Show Controls Support Engineer for Universal Creative for their new park! I can finally be proud of my job title and my place of occupation! It’s been a while since I could actually say that!

I still love Kotorin! Three years later and we’re still together and it’s only getting better! I remember being so scared for her when she had to start her mandatory NS and I thought she wouldn’t make it out alive, but a year later and the hard part is over! Now she just needs to deal with the terrible politics, organization, and pay from them and next year she’ll be free from them and can finally come to America to live with me! I am so excited for that and really hope everything goes well for us! We’ve had our falling outs over the past couple years for sure (mostly from my end because of my terrible tendencies to overthink and my terrible neediness) but we’ve been able to rebound from those. I hope my next update to this page includes a lovely excerpt on our love life and hopefully hopefully our co-habitation!

Speaking of co-habitation, I bought a house! Who knew that I would be able to actually purchase a 3/2 house in such a terrible housing market! No more dealing with awful roommates that are ungrateful, dirty, irresponsible, and outright questionable. I’ve dealt with that ever since I became independent in 2012 and I’m so glad that I’m able to finally live independent and not have to rely on anyone else bringing me down. The only other person I want living with me is my lovely girlfriend and no one else. A lot of my monthly income is going towards the house and my newly owned car, but at the end of the day, I’ll pay whatever I need to pay for the peace of mind of living independent and away from unruly people!

Lastly, in terms of my mental health, I know I’ve posted before about my dark states and my drastic moods over the years. Luckily, that has subdued a good amount after I was able to escape the need for roommates and live by myself with my two lovely cats. I haven’t experienced any serious suicidal thoughts in my last two jobs and my daily moping is able to be diminished by going home, cooking up a nice meal, talking to my girlfriend, and being able to sleep soundly without people waking me up. I was also clinically diagnosed with depression in 2022, and was even offered a spiritual counselor for treatment, but I know that’s not something that would help me. I am able to keep my depression down to a minimum with the proper amount of minimal interaction with people, being able to take care of my new house, and having someone I love and care for and want to raise up from a conservative household to being free, just like me! 

I pray that my new engineering job doesn’t induce any stress in me and that I am able to update this page again with even better news about my job, my house, my mental health, and my girlfriend. Until then, I am still here! I am Vicanti, a 6 year strong survivor of an attempted suicide, now living the best life up to this point. I’m happy to say that I enjoy my life right now and hope for a more fruitful life! 

Take Care, future and past Roneals!

[intechjobboard]

Mechanical Engineer Jobs in Florida

Looking for a mechanical engineer job in Florida? You're in luck! This comprehensive guide will provide you with all the information you need to make the right decision for your career. We'll discuss the different types you'll easily get. we can also not forget about the skills you need to succeed, and where to find the best opportunities. it is never easy to venture into a new career but it is also much easier if you know what is expected of you.

The first step in finding the right mechanical engineer jobs in Florida is to decide what type of role you're interested in. Do you want to work in a research and development capacity, or are you more interested in design and production? Once you've decided on your focus, it will be easier to narrow down your search. Next, having the right skills for the job is more than a necessity. A successful mechanical engineer should be able to think creatively, solve problems effectively, and work well in a team. If you can demonstrate these skills, you'll be in good shape when it comes time to apply for jobs.

General Requirements for a Mechanical Engineering Position To become a successful mechanical engineer, you will need to earn a bachelor's degree in mechanical engineering from an accredited college or university. In addition to your educational requirements, you will also need to pass the Fundamentals of Engineering (FE) exam. After meeting all the necessary requirements, it gives you the confidence of being eligible to apply for entry-level positions in the field.

When applying for Mechanical engineer jobs, it is important to have a strong portfolio. There are many things that should be included in your portfolio including examples of your work, not forgetting any awards or recognitions you have received. It is also a good idea to list any relevant experience you have, such as internships or co-op placements. Employers will be pleased to see that you have the skills and experience necessary to succeed in the role.

Conclusion Finally, it's important to know where to look for Mechanical engineer jobs opportunities. The best place to start your search is online, where you can browse through job listings and get a feel for what's out there. You can also check with professional organizations or engineering schools in Florida to see if they have any job openings that match your skills and interests.

[brookecantsleep]

Oddly Specific ISWM Headcanons

Engineer!Mark:

He often finds himself following you around the ship, not out of need to help you or do tasks in the same area or anything like that so much as boredom

He drinks coffee, but only after an unhealthy amount of caramel creamer

Has an odd distaste for anything blueberry flavored.

Can’t keep house plants alive to save his life

Mack:

Definitely a debate kid in high school

Hates the color orange because it’s “too bright”

Control issues (need I say more)

Super picky eater, and refuses to try new things without closely analyzing at least three other people’s reactions to it

Probably drinks fruity cocktails

Celci:

Has herself convinced she likes her coffee black until you make her one with two packs of sugar and the tiniest splash of half and half creamer

Definitely the oldest sibling and golden child in her family

Probably had a bunch of pets growing up too

Another debate kid

Only stays on Mark’s case because he reminds her of her younger brothers

Gunther:

Born in Texas, but moved to Florida when he was four, where he grew up and lived until the Invincible II

An Honors Kid tm but only because he’s one of those people who didn’t need to study for tests

Dad taught him to shoot at 19, and it was instantly his go to stress reliever from then on

Known Mark for years, but they only got close after the announcement of the Invincible II

Burt:

Definitely planned on being an automotive mechanic, but this job payed really well

Loved history all throughout school

Learned old sayings/proverbs just to match the vibes, but isn’t super into it

The only pets he ever kept were fish