#Small Gas Engines Market

[vipinmishra]

Small Gas Engines Market Eyes Growth as Construction Activity Drives Demand

Global Small Gas Engines Market is expected to grow owing to growth of the construction activities surges the demand for outdoor power equipment throughout the forecast period.

According to TechSci Research report, “Small Gas Engines Market - Global Industry Size, Share, Trends, Opportunity, and Forecast 2018-2028”, the Global Small Gas Engines Market is expected to register robust growth during the forecast period. Factors such as the growing utilization of construction equipment fueled by gas generators, the decrease in natural gas prices, minimal environmental impact, and the improving flexibility and efficiency of gas-driven energy generation are anticipated to propel the demand for small gas engines in the forecast period.

The growing popularity of landscaping, gardening, and lawn care activities, particularly among homeowners, is fueling the need for outdoor power equipment. Small gas engines are utilized to power a range of equipment, including lawnmowers, leaf blowers, and chainsaws. Manufacturers have the opportunity to innovate and create more efficient and environmentally-friendly small gas engines to meet the demands of this expanding market segment.

Small gas engines can effectively supplement energy storage solutions by offering dependable backup power for renewable energy systems, including solar and wind installations. Manufacturers have the opportunity to collaborate with renewable energy companies to develop integrated power solutions.

Based on engine displacement, the 101-450cc segment is expected to dominate the market during the forecast period. This segment encompasses a wide range of engine capacities and finds applications in various equipment such as lawn mowers, generators, agricultural machinery, construction equipment, and recreational vehicles. The 101-450cc segment holds a significant share in the global small gas engines market and plays a pivotal role. It caters to diverse applications, making it a versatile range.

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Lawn mowers, garden tractors, and other outdoor power equipment often utilize small gas engines within the 101-450cc range. The demand for well-maintained lawns and gardens, especially in residential settings, drives the adoption of these engines. The 101-450cc segment also includes portable generators, commonly used for backup power during outages. These engines provide a reliable source of electricity for residential and commercial users. Manufacturers in this segment are actively investing in research and development to develop engines that comply with increasingly stringent emissions regulations.

Ensuring compliance with emissions standards is crucial to maintain market competitiveness and address environmental concerns. Moreover, manufacturers can explore opportunities to customize engines within the 101-450cc range for specialized applications, such as high-performance small tractors or compact generators. Collaborating with original equipment manufacturers (OEMs) in various sectors, such as construction or agriculture, can expand market reach and provide access to established distribution channels.

Based on application, the Gardening segment is projected to dominate the market throughout the forecast period.

Gardening equipment powered by small gas engines encompasses a range of outdoor power tools, including lawnmowers, leaf blowers, string trimmers, and more. It serves a diverse customer base, including homeowners, landscaping professionals, and municipalities. The gardening market experiences seasonal fluctuations in demand, with peak sales occurring during the spring and summer months when lawn care and gardening activities are at their peak. Small gas engines are essential for various types of lawnmowers, such as push mowers, riding mowers, and zero-turn mowers, ensuring well-manicured lawns.

Gas-powered leaf blowers are popular for efficiently clearing leaves and debris from yards and driveways, offering portability and power preferred by homeowners and landscapers alike. Manufacturers in the gardening segment are increasingly focused on meeting emissions regulations by developing cleaner-burning engines, aligning with environmental concerns and government mandates for reduced emissions. Electric gardening equipment, including cordless electric lawnmowers and leaf blowers, poses competition to gas-powered tools, offering quieter operation and zero emissions. Manufacturers can explore the adoption of alternative fuels such as propane and natural gas in gardening equipment to provide cleaner-burning options.

Key market players in the Global Small Gas Engines Market are:-

Briggs & Stratton Corporation

Kohler Co.

Mitsubishi Heavy Industries, Ltd.

Honda Motor Co., Ltd

Fuji Heavy Industries

Kubota corporation

Generac Power Systems

Yamaha Motor Corp.

Kawasaki Heavy Industries

Kubota Corporation

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“The Small Gas Engines Market in North America is poised to be the dominant force in the industry. Small gas engines find applications in various sectors, such as marine, recreational vehicles, and construction equipment. Establishing partnerships with original equipment manufacturers (OEMs) in North America enables small gas engine manufacturers to broaden their market presence and integrate their engines into a diverse range of equipment.” said Mr. Karan Chechi, Research Director with TechSci Research, a research-based global management consulting firm.

“Small Gas Engines Market – Global Industry Size, Share, Trends, Opportunity, and Forecast Segmented By Engine Displacement (20-100cc, 101-450cc and 451-650cc), By Application (Gardening, Industrial, Construction and Others), By Equipment (Lawnmower, Chainsaw, Portable Generator, Pressure Washer and Others), By Region, By Competition Forecast & Opportunities, 2018-2028,” has evaluated the future growth potential of Global Small Gas Engines Marketand provides statistics & information on market size, structure, and future market growth. The report intends to provide cutting-edge market intelligence and help decision makers take sound investment decisions. Besides the report also identifies and analyzes the emerging trends along with essential drivers, challenges, and opportunities in Global Small Gas Engines Market.

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[vaiswr]

Small Gas Engines Market Size Worth USD 5.46 Billion in 2032

The global small gas engines market size was USD 3.21 Billion in 2022 and is expected to register a revenue CAGR of 5.5% during the forecast period, according to latest analysis by Emergen Research. Rising adoption of electric start and hybrid engines is a key factor driving market revenue growth.

Small gas engines are commonly used in various applications including lawnmowers, generators, and other outdoor power equipment. There is rising emphasis on reducing emissions from small gas engines to meet stringent environmental regulations. Manufacturers are investing in Research & Development (R&D) to create cleaner and more fuel-efficient engines. Electric start engines reduce physical strain on users, as these don't require strenuous pulling of a starter cord, which can be particularly beneficial for older individuals or those with physical limitations. As consumers become more accustomed to electric start and hybrid technology in various applications, they may prefer equipment that offers these features.

[dsiddhant]

Chicago, Aug. 01, 2023 (GLOBE NEWSWIRE) -- Small Gas Engines Market size is projected to grow from USD 3.3 billion in 2023 to USD 4.3 billion by 2028, at a CAGR of 5.4% according to a new report by MarketsandMarkets™.

[eddiessluttywaist]

desiderium

an eddie munson series

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.

summary: eddie’s odd, forgotten childhood friend seeks him out when he needs her more than he realizes.

pairing: bsf!mechanic!bartender!eddie x eccentric!bsf!fem!reader

word count: 6,118 words

content/warnings: eventual smut so MDNI, angst, fluff, swearing, loneliness, family issues, feeling unwanted, mentions of bullying, low self esteem, anxiety, mentions of inappropriate and abusive relationships from reader’s past (nothing detailed), mentions of relationships with an inappropriate age gap (adult men dating reader when she was still a teenager—nothing detailed), brief mentions of imprisonment, crying. i think that’s it!

a/n: sorry to say not all updates will be this quick 🫠 this is only ready now because i had already written a good chunk of it when i wrote part one. creds to whoever owns and posted those ^ photos! they’re not mine, i just made the collage!

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5

*

“How’d it go?” Martha pulled herself up to get a better look at you, hands on the inner edge of the service desk.

She probably thought with how much time had passed, that things went well. That you spent time with Eddie while he worked, talking when he wasn’t too focused on something else. Maybe you went out to eat and caught up—surely that was why you were returning now when you had left to see him around late morning. It definitely wasn’t because you drove off after he snapped at you and didn’t even give you a chance to defend yourself. A prank? Why would it have been a prank?

It certainly hadn’t been so long because you couldn’t stand the idea of facing her with tears in your eyes and a waver to your voice. Surely, you hadn’t been crying and chastising yourself in your car in some random parking lot until you felt you could be seen in the outside world again. There was no way you were showing up now because when you were on your way to get more greasy food, your car sputtered to a halt because you’re an idiot who had the engine running the entire time you were in that parking lot.

She imagined your afternoon spent with Eddie—not a few strangers who helped you push your car to the nearest gas station (which was thankfully rather close, your only bout of luck thus far). You didn’t need to stop to cry a second time in one day (this time with the car off) just so you could get it out of your system before going into the market on your way back. And by that point it wasn’t even about Eddie. Okay, maybe a little bit, but mostly just because you were so overwhelmed by how everything was going wrong.

She was sure during all that time that you had successfully reunited with your long lost friend. But then as you trudged over, you pointed to your temple.

“Always better up here, right?” you murmured, voice tired and your eyes still somewhat raw.

“Oh, dear…,” she sighed, reaching to pat your hands that were now settled on the ledge where guests were greeted.

“I don’t… I don’t really want to talk about it…,” you admit, and she gives your hands a small squeeze. She can’t help but notice the scent of salt and grease—you definitely had a bag with cheeseburgers and fries waiting for you, probably settled on the floor beside your feet so you weren’t leaving oily stains on her countertop.

Maybe it was ridiculous to be so upset. Stupid emotions. Stupid, stupid emotions that you should be able to control by now. Maybe it was because you let yourself get caught up in your hopes more than you thought and now you were left not just disappointed, but humiliated too.

“Oh, I got you this,” you continue after what you hoped was a forgettable dab to the corner of your eye with the knuckle of your right thumb. You pull your purse to the side to grab a small brown paper bag—one that didn’t have stains collecting on the bottom. “They didn’t have tuna, but I know you said you like turkey better than ham so…”

“You don’t need to keep bringing me food,” she reassured you with a sweet smile, as if it didn’t make her day whenever you did. She wasn’t used to such a kind young girl being around—someone who thought to get her something to eat or listened to her stories with all the respect and attentiveness that makes a person feel like they matter.

“It’s rude to show up with food for myself and not for you,” you argued gently while offering her a weak, closed mouth smile.

“You still don’t have to, though… Why don’t you go lie down, hm?” Martha patted at your hands again before sinking back into her seat. “Rest up a little. I’m here if you need to talk.”

*

As you laid alone in your bed that night with your hair still partially damp after a shower—memories of your childhood flooded in. You hated feeling so utterly lonely and rejected. It only made you think of growing up which always made you feel worse. It reminded you of being all by yourself at ages where you really should’ve had your parents around, or at least a babysitter.

They hadn’t been ready to have a kid, not really. The couple had been all wrapped up in the romanticism and fantasy of starting a family, and didn’t listen when other parents shared stories to hint at the fact that it’s not that easy. You wondered if that’s when they started to hate you. When you cried all night when they wanted to sleep or go bar hopping with friends. When you’d spit up on them; or suddenly have a shift in your sleeping habits just when they thought they had a grasp on them; or when you constantly grew out of those clothes they swore they just bought. You were a waste of time and money. They looked forward to you growing up more than anything so they could leave you in the house and eventually kick you out of it.

Once you were old enough to make a sandwich or pour a bowl of cereal on your own, they abandoned you as much as possible. Sure, you could handle a peanut butter and jelly or a bowl of Cheerios—that didn’t mean you felt secure in the house all by yourself. At first you would leave all the lights on to give yourself some semblance of security, but then they yelled at you over an electric bill you didn’t understand. Then you’d have “accidents” just so they’d come home—whether that was slicing your finger while trying to cut your sandwich or because you fell or something else you thought of. You found comfort in them being around even if they were pissed at you for being the reason they had to come back early. Then they stopped coming home when you called them crying. Instead, they reassured you that you were old enough to clean your finger and put on a bandaid; or that the fall wasn’t that bad if you could get up and go to the phone in the kitchen. So that ended up being a lost cause.

The habit that stuck the longest was from that little magic 8 ball you got one birthday from an aunt you never saw. It actually listened to you and gave you the reassurance and guidance you needed. When you were scared of the dark, you’d whisper “Do monsters exist?” and it told you no. When you thought you heard someone in the house just because it was settling, you’d ask it if someone broke in and it helped ease your racing heart with the same reply. Besides Eddie, it was your only companion. That stupid hunk of plastic.

Hot tears that you assumed were all spent earlier today stream down from your eyes and into your hair as your train of thought turns to one memory in particular. That night you shook the child’s toy with all your might as you asked it if your parents loved you. This time the familiar phrase scratched into that floating blue triangle wasn’t so comforting.

It was a flash. A blurry replay from the back of your mind, but it still hit you hard. You wipe at your wet cheeks with the feverish haste of someone who was crying in front of a stranger. No one was in the room with you, but you still hated the way it felt. You should’ve never let any of those tears fall today—that’s what made them real. That’s what cemented how miserable you really were.

“Just look up at the sky and blink if you don’t want to.” Eddie had said as he sat next to you on the pavement.

He had been teaching you how to skate and you fell off of his board, leaving your knees and palms all scraped up and bloody. You wanted to cry, but you hated crying. It made you feel like a dumb kid. Mom and dad hate dumb, crybaby kids. You should be able to control your emotions better than this by now.

“If they don’t slip out then they’re not real. They never happened, I promise.” The boy lisped around the gap in his teeth. He had lost his last baby tooth earlier that week. He was all grown up, you guessed.

“But what about when I can’t keep them in?” You whimpered, unsure if you’d be able to blink them back the way he suggested. The boy toyed with a piece of gravel between his fingers and shrugged lazily.

“I dunno. Just wipe ‘em away, I guess. I don’t have any tissues, but you can use my sleeve if you wanna.”

He pulled his long sleeve down until it was over his hand and offered his covered fist to you.

You huffed out a broken laugh at the memory and pulled your own sleeve down to continue wiping at your face. God, you missed him. He was your first best friend, and honestly your last. You had never felt that close with anyone else, and sure it was dumb because you were only kids but it still meant a lot to you. He was who you went to when you didn’t want to stay in an empty house, and even though most parents would throw a fit over a girl and a boy having sleepovers—yours couldn’t care less. At least someone else was in charge of you, even if it was Eddie’s dad who they thought was shit for reasons you didn’t understand.

He was a kind of intimidating looking character and sometimes he insisted you two stay at the local park until he came to get you when he had some friends on their way over (which you realized the implications of later), but he was a nice dad. You were around so often that he’d call you “kiddo” and ruffle your hair the way he did with Eddie’s buzzed scalp—which was more grabbing the fuzzy top of his head and nudging him around playfully than really ruffling hair. He knew you didn’t like crust on your sandwiches. He knew you liked strawberry milk more than chocolate milk, which Eddie appreciated cause it meant more chocolate Yoo-hoo for him. His dad was relatively busy and a little intense, but you liked him and you liked staying over.

Even at 24, you missed blanket forts. You missed making up stories under all the blankets and sheets as you held flashlights under your faces. You missed “camping” in the backyard. You missed wrestling. You missed watching tv until the American flag was fluttering and the national anthem played until the screen faded to black. You missed the anticipation of trying to see who was faster at turning off the tv before the screen flipped to those streaks of color and let out that god awful noise. You took turns to see who could get the closest to right when it was about to switch but before that noise could sound. You had the best score before he left.

You smiled lightly now as you settled into the bed, face still warm from all your distress of the day. Despite Eddie being part of why you had been crying in the first place, you still turned to memories of him to calm yourself down. You thought about when you were sure he’d be your first kiss—a decision you had made unfortunately a few weeks before he left. This was the kind of childish memory that made you roll your eyes, but deep down it actually made life simpler and sweeter so you still cozied up to it whenever you remembered. Reminiscing about when those kinds of things were new and exciting—without the burden of knowing all the mess that eventually comes with endearment—soothed you.

At the time, you were steadily approaching adolescence and starting to pay attention to romance novels and tv programs. It made having a boy as your best friend suddenly feel different in your stupid little prepubescent brain. The same shit he always did started to make you go shy and blush, and he’d nudge you and call you a “fuckin’ dork”. He was still in his “girls are gross” phase whereas you were already forming crushes. You developed crushes just about every day by the time you were in fifth grade, but you liked your best friend the most.

It’s funny actually—or maybe just sad—but you still had a habit of constantly forming crushes. The thought of being desired by someone thrilled you, but that love for attention put you in shitty situations sometimes. No one even liked you until you were maturing in a way that felt so much sooner and so much faster than the other girls by grade 6. Maybe that should’ve been the tell that the sudden interest in you was hollow, but it made you feel special. You kinda liked knowing boys fixated on you even if they were mimicking lewd comments they overheard their older brothers say or wrote about you in the boy’s bathroom—no matter how much you hated yourself for secretly basking in all of the attention.

It wasn’t always dumb boys in middle school, though, even if it would’ve been nice for things to be that basic forever. Eventually it was guys who were too old for you when you were in your late teens. The types who’d say shit like “That’s what you gotta love about high school girls. You get older, and they stay the same age,” and made you feel like you were grown and capable—when it benefited them, of course.

The nights you regretted getting wrapped up in the excitement of an older man or someone you had never met before at a bar or someone who had a bad habit of punching holes into walls awfully close to where your head was against the plaster—you thought about Eddie. You wondered if he grew up to be as awful as all the other boys you knew. If he turned into a creep or if he was the same, sweet boy who—sure, would hold you down and pretend he was gonna spit on you—but had also been taught to hold the door open for you or gave you a flower on your birthday or held your hands when he taught you to skate, promising that he wouldn’t let you fall. Well, except for when you insisted you were ready to do it by yourself. Then he said “Okay, but if you fall on your ass then you don’t get to yell at me.” And you didn’t yell, but he gave you his sleeve if you needed to cry.

There were parents who disappointed. Extended family you rarely heard from. Friends that came and went. Boyfriends who broke your heart, but best friends were forever in your mind. Wasn’t that why you made those bracelets and spit into your palms before shaking on the decision that you were always going to be there for each other?

*

Eddie’s shift dragged along after that strange young woman showed up. He knew his reputation. He knew that he was the butt of most jokes. He knew he was the town freak even when he had finally graduated and was trying to be a responsible adult. There would always be a few who remained unrelenting in their efforts to make him miserable, or at least that’s how it felt. And it wasn’t like you were someone he recognized as guilty for his constant harassment, but it wouldn’t be the first time some local asshole’s cousin or friend came to visit and was put up to the task of making him feel liked just for it to be some cruel punchline. He was tired of the jokes and the pranks and the muttered comments as people watched his every move. He needed to stay one step ahead or he’d be dealing with it forever. Why else would you pull him away from the back just to talk to him? He didn’t even know you. The frustration burned at him through most of his shift, which he took out on all the exertion he had to put into fixing that crappy Ford Ranch Wagon. He prayed that he would finally sleep tonight, the thought of a hot shower and an old bed waiting for him steadily bringing his mood back up.

Eddie sighed happily when it was time to clock out, holding the door open for Linda on her way out so she could lock up for the two of them.

“Night, Lin,” he sighed with a small smile that spoke of apologies for his constant grouchiness, and parted from her to head to his van.

“Oh, wait!” she suddenly called out, making him raise his brows and twist on his heels. He watched her make her way over to him all while holding something out for him.

“This was left for you by that odd girl who came by.”

At the mention of you, he scowled a little—certain it was a continuation of some joke, until he felt the plastic beads strung together on some string.

“Uh… thanks.”

“She looked real upset. All teary-eyed. Did you break up with that poor girl?”

“What?” Eddie’s head snapped up to eye her incredulously. “I—No! I don’t even recognize her. I don’t think we’ve even met before.”

Lin eyed him suspiciously before letting out a small hum. Men, she thought, although Eddie had always been a good kid, in her opinion—no matter what others said.

“Really, I swear.”

“Okay, hon… well go get some rest, alright?”

He hoped the same for her, and walked back to his car once she was safe in her vehicle and driving off. Eddie clambered into his old van and carelessly punched the button that turned on the light above his head. The bracelet in his hand was small and crowded with an odd assortment of different shaped and colored beads except for seven of the nearly identical beads that were lined up in the center. At both ends there were knots in the thick string to keep the beads from slipping off and had tails left on either side so you could tie and untie the bracelet whenever. Not that you two ever did untie them. The only time you took yours off was when you went swimming at the community pool and were scared you were going to lose it—and that didn’t count. You both promised it didn’t count cause you were just avoiding disaster.

He held it up to get a better look and read the lettering on those seven beads.

C-R-I-T-T-E-R

Critter. Eddie’s brows furrowed together and confusion was only welcome for half a second—maybe even less—before a pang of familiarity punched him in the gut.

“You’re doing it wrong!”

“How can I be doing it wrong? Will you screw off?”

“Eddie, you have to make a pretty pattern of colors, not just random mish-mash. See?”

You held up the bracelet you were working on for him with a pattern of his favorite colors: red bead, blue bead, black bead, red bead… and so on. His was just whatever bead he grabbed that he thought looked cool since you had so many to choose from. There were bulky wooden ones; those tiny little rainbow ones your mom let you have when her long necklace full of them broke (she didn’t want to clean them up so she promised you could keep them if you did); sunburst ones; chunky square ones that had letters and numbers on them; tribeads that were half in and half out of that thin plastic Beadery bag in your collection; and those dumb pop beads that he couldn’t even put on the string but of course kept picking up by accident.

“Screw off,” He insisted a second time and you rolled your eyes before continuing with your craft.

For all the shit you gave him, you loved the bracelet. Once it was done and he gave it to you, it was officially the most beautiful piece of jewelry you owned. You had insisted you two trade the bracelets like you heard the other girls in your grade talk about. You had to make them for each other rather than make your own and you had to tie them around the other’s wrist while they closed their eyes and made a wish.

Some of the boys in school gave him shit for it, calling him names for wearing jewelry he got from the girl in the grade below them. He didn’t care though. After all, Eddie wasn’t one to change himself for the sake of fitting in and he loved his bracelet.

He laughed a bit in disbelief now as he looked down at the bracelet he made for you back in 1975. You remembered him? God, he hadn’t thought of you in forever. Not to be an ass, but because it got too painful.

Among all of the stress that night his dad was arrested, he had been so overwhelmed that he completely shutdown. He was quiet and his expression was numb as he answered questions and packed his things. He was apprehensive and apathetic when he was brought to his uncle he rarely saw, but he didn’t cry. And he never told anyone this, but he never cried until a random thought of not seeing his best friend anymore suddenly set him off while he was trying to sleep. That was what made him realize the reality of everything that occurred. He didn’t have his home anymore. He didn’t have his dad. He didn’t have anything other than a new guardian and a trailer with one bedroom that Wayne had to pull all of his stuff out of so Eddie could have it. And he didn’t have you.

He brought you up a few times, but eventually stopped when he realized how stressed Wayne got over the mention of a trip into Ohio. A trip that meant dipping into his funds—that were already starting to run spectacularly low now that he was responsible for an 11 year old—for the gas money and probably a fee at the state line. Likely a motel room too, if your parents didn’t let them stay at the house.

How did he not recognize you? The more he thought over your interaction, the more he recognized your eyes and the shape of your nose and the curve of your lips even if they were fuller now. Little things here and there that even as an adult made it easier to see the bits and pieces of how you used to look. Here he’s been sulking in all his misery and loneliness, and he had completely scared off the chance to have an old best friend back. And Linda said you had tears in your eyes?

Eddie groaned as he let his head sink forward and rest on the center of his steering wheel. He didn’t even care about the horn that permeated the still night around him as self deprecating thoughts swirled before finally letting up on the button. This groan wasn’t a useless cry to the sky over the state of his life like the others so far, but rather a display of anger at himself for being such a dick. And he couldn’t even fix it. He didn’t have your phone number. He didn’t know where you were staying, if you were even staying. Did you move here? Were you just driving through the state and thought to drop by? Maybe have lunch and catch up before leaving again?

Why did he always have to fuck everything up?

*

You spent a good portion of your weekend sulking until Martha dragged you out on Sunday. You had been eating all the food you brought with you alone in your room and only went outside when you craved your bad habit enough.

“This has to be a violation of a paying customer’s privacy…,” you groaned as you rolled over and shoved your face into your pillow to avoid the light coming in full force from the windows. Martha had unlocked your door and came in to throw the curtains open to pull you out of your post-humiliation funk.

“It’s a beautiful morning. We’re going on a walk to take it all in and I’m taking you to that diner I keep telling you about.”

“I could’ve been naked. What if you came charging in here and I was laying here naked? Neither of us would’ve recovered. And our friendship would be ruined.”

“Oh don’t be so childish,” Martha huffed, hands on her hips. For an older woman she sure could be spritely when she wanted to be—whipping around your room the way she had been and insisting on a journey into the outdoors.

“It’s too cold.”

“Not when we start moving. It’s not even Autumn yet.”

“Technically the first day of Fall has already passed,” you corrected, still face planting your pillow and raising your hand up as you made your point before dropping it back down.

“Well the cold hasn’t reached us yet. I think you’ll survive. Come on, dear, it’ll be good for you. Good for both of us. I’m always cooped up at that desk.”

You sigh, but stay in your bed with all your plans set on sulking until the end of time. Until you were a pile of dust she was vacuuming up so she could get the room ready for someone else. Maybe you were being a tad dramatic, but you still felt that way.

“You want me to wake you up the way Howard did with our daughter? When she wouldn’t get up for high school?”

Now groaning at the thought of that cup of ice cold water trick she told you about, you huff and you finally force yourself up.

Despite your initial refusal to get out of bed, you were glad that Martha made you. It really was a wonderful morning and the smell of fresh air and the sound of the occasional leaf crunching under your feet refreshed you. Even with how deeply you despised being lonely, you had a habit of isolating yourself when you were upset and it could be quite destructive at times when you didn’t have someone to pull you back out of it. She didn’t even force you to discuss Thursday, just kept up casual chit chat like always.

And even if that walk hadn’t been enough to begin lifting your spirits, the food at the diner certainly would’ve done the trick all on its own. It wasn’t the prettiest joint around, but the breakfast was phenomenal. You wondered if she picked up on the fact that food and eating with others was a part of your love language. Being introduced to such an amazing local restaurant that clearly meant a lot to her soothed your aches of rejection and mortification.

Both aspects of the morning Martha forced you to take part in actually helped to improve your mood. What happened still stung but it was less “end of the world” and a little more “bump in the road.” With the fresh air, breakfast food and Martha’s pep talks—you were thinking of your next couple of steps forward rather than all the doom and gloom. You’d attempt to quit all the fast food that only left you more sluggish, and start finding other things to pay attention to. You weren’t giving up on Eddie, but you had to focus on your other needs again. This meant getting out of bed. Eating something other than cheeseburgers and fries, promising Martha you’d get other food Monday.

Well, maybe not Monday. You may have caved again, but you swore the next day. So on that following Tuesday night, you were at the market to pick up some things for you and Martha. There was a small fridge and a cabinet in your room that you could keep things in, and you offered to pick up anything she needed while you were out.

Peanut butter for you, cans of soup for her—oh, actually soup sounded good. With your sudden craving, you grabbed a few more cans. Milk for both of you, as well as cereal. Microwave meals for you, sardines for her—

Oh gross, sardines?

—Could you even stay friends at this revelation? You supposed you could since she let you bother her even with your fast food she couldn’t stand. But this fact wasn’t going anywhere. You were going to give her your best, most dramatic yuck when you gave her her groceries and you would have to insist that she never eats them where you can smell them.

You moved on through the list, and pushed your cart that fought you every step of the way to the bread and baked goods aisle. Why did you always get the cart with the squeaky wheel? The one that stuck every now and then and dragged against the linoleum before finally returning to a squealing roll? Bad luck, you supposed.

Once you were in the aisle, you double checked what brand she requested before letting out a sigh. Of course they were the loaves that were neatly stacked on the top shelf. Notepad paper crushed between your hand and the shelf you were using for support, you stretched up onto your tiptoes as best as you could to grab for one. You could easily grab the pinched end of one and just tug, but you didn’t want to accidentally squish any of them or make any of the others go tumbling. You’re about to step on the bottom shelf when suddenly a hand much larger than yours littered with heavy rings was grabbing it either from you like a dick or for you like a gentleman.

“Still short, huh?” You heard the rough, tired voice say from beside you.

You settled back on your feet and glanced at the man holding out the loaf of bread for you. He was in those dirty coveralls again with the sleeves rolled up, clearly from when he had taken the time to clean his hands and forearms before leaving his shift. His hair was out of its ponytail now so you could see it in all of its chaotic glory. As you accepted his kindness for Martha’s sake, you did your best to tamper your reaction to him being here. Whether it was any excitement over him possibly trying to fix things; or if it was intrigue over how his hair got so long and the fact that he had tattoos now; or if it was irritation leftover from how he treated you last Thursday. Had you still been familiar with one another, and this had been a small spat between friends, you probably would’ve just punched his arm.

“What? Come to yell at me some more?” You mutter. Okay so trying to keep a neutral stance wasn’t going very well.

You hear him exhale a quick sigh at your words and the way you refused to look at him. You had one elbow leaning against your cart now while you put all your focus on toying with the piece of paper in your hands. Folding and unfolding, smoothing out creases, lining up the edges of the paper and fixing the previous fold so everything fits better.

“No,” he replied in a defeated tone, but you still weren’t looking at him. “‘N I’m sorry about that, okay? Just wasn’t expecting it, and it’s not like you’re 9 anymore.”

“So I’m guessing you recognize me now?”

“A little, yeah,” He tried to be playful, a small smile tugging on his features until you looked up at him with that sad expression and he was deflated again. “Joke. Bad joke, I- of course I recognize you, Critter.”

You failed in your attempt to not smile at the nickname you hadn’t heard in far too long, making Eddie straighten out his posture again at the sight of your lips curving up.

“You still don’t have a poker face. That right there?” He points at your smile, while his own pulled at his lips “That’s how I won all of your best candy bars on Halloween.”

“You never really kept them from me,” You countered, head tilting back to fully look up at him now and your smile a little more sure.

“Of course not. Cause I’m a sucker and you can get whatever you want with a pout,” He laughed and you grew bashful as your cheeks flushed, ducking your head back down to try and hide it.

“Here,” Eddie sighed after a beat, digging into his pocket and pulling out a bracelet to drop in your palm.

Figuring he was returning yours to you, you were confused when you didn’t see your usual mix of beads. Your brows stayed knit together until you recognized those red, blue and black beads and the nickname in the center. Your features softened as you held out your hand for him to drop it into.

L-O-O-G-I-E

“You kept it…?” you murmured as you stared at the plastic bracelet like it’s treasure, before looking up at him again while your fingers brushed over the beads.

“Obviously,” he replied bluntly, pointing at it.

“Completely tore my place apart to find it so I could prove it, too. Not that my place is the neatest to start with, but…,” he let out a light laugh, head tilting and lazy smile tugging at one side of his mouth. He still smiled the same.

You eyed him for a moment, then returned your focus to the old jewelry. You felt oddly reserved with him after his initial reaction to your appearance at his work, and all the time you spent apart. You never had to work up the courage to speak to him before, or think about what to say or how to say it.

“10.”

“…Hm?”

“I was 10 years old. You said I wasn’t exactly 9 anymore, but it was actually a few weeks out from my birthday when you had to leave.”

“I guess that’s true, huh?” Eddie sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Why were his arms so fit? And veiny? And why do you have to tilt your head back to see his face now? Ugh, you’re starting to feel like that young girl who read her first romance novel and was developing her first crushes.

“Yeah…,” you say simply, fearing you’ll make a fool of yourself if you try to say more.

“I’m sorry that all happened around your birthday.”

He was so sincere when he said it, but it made your eyes grow wide as you looked up at his face again.

“Oh god– no. No, no, no. Don’t apologize. That’s not how I meant that at all. You-- that wasn’t your fault. And it was worse for you than it was for me, for obvious reasons.”

“Yeah, with the convict dad and all. But it’s a real shame…,” he sighs with feigned disappointment. “Y’know… that you couldn’t kiss me on your birthday.”

That evil grin sunk his dimples into his cheeks and he sucked on his teeth while he clasped his hands behind his back. Your eyes might as well have been popping out of your skull at this point, your whole face heating up.

“I— you— how— oh, you dick!” you gasp at the revelation through all of your sputtering and punch his shoulder without even thinking, and certainly not noticing the elderly woman who huffed at your unladylike behavior before scuttling away. “You read my diary!”

“Yeah, well, you really should’ve gotten the kind that came with a lock.”

“So you don’t recognize me, but you remember a journal entry you shouldn’t have read? Great, that’s great, Eddie.”

You were turning around now, starting to push your cart towards the other end of the aisle. Roll. Squeak. Maybe it was time to head back to Ohio? Maybe you didn’t need such an obnoxious little shit back in your life. Drag. Roll. Squeak.

“I said I was sorry for not recognizing you,” he groaned and followed after you. “How much groveling am I gonna have to do?”

Oh, plenty. Plenty of groveling.

*

taglist: @mystars123 @h-ness1944 @ohmeg @milkymil-k

@eddiesprincess86

[porterdavis]

Australia’s first hydrogen car comes to market, complete with charging stations in just 5 minutes. The car travels 900 kilometers with the tank full and purifies the air as it moves forward. For the first time, hydrogen fuel cell technology is being applied serialized in a commercial car and, above all, it allows for such important autonomy, with very reduced charging times.

This is Hyundai Nexo, a small-cylinder car that beats all car manufacturers in the world and sets a sustainability record, with a charge of 6.27 kilograms of hydrogen that purifies 449,100 liters of air during e The journey (as much as the consumption of breathing of 33 people for a whole day) and it only emits water down your exhaust pipe. This car produces no CO2 or other polluting emissions; just think that an equivalent vehicle, with a traditional combustion engine, emits about 126 kg of CO2 at the same distance.

The hydrogen engine thus enters the automobile market and intends to join the electric one among the sustainable mobility solutions the world is adopting. Hyundai thus becomes the first automaker in the world to produce a hydrogen fuel cell vehicle for the market. The car is equipped with a hydrogen fuel cell system that, to generate electricity, passes the gas through a membrane structure where it meets the air taken from the external environment, a process that feeds an electric motor. The excess electricity generated, including energy stored during braking, is stored in a lithium-ion battery. Reposting the next takes 5 min.

The first country to put the car on sale was Australia, where the first gas stations were also built. A true vision of a sustainable future.

Science & Technology

Wow, I wondered what had happened to this technology. When I first entered the securities business in 1980, Ballard Power was a hot stock. They had the patents and the product -- hydrogen-powered electric engines, but never reached commercial status. Eventually they dropped off the radar entirely. If the Aussies have truly made this viable it is a huge deal, bigger than generic electric vehicles (see Tesla).

[whovianwatchingstartrek]

A Whovian Watches Star Trek for the First Time: Part 078 - Slave Market Rescue

Star Trek: Enterprise - Season 4 Episode 4 - Borderland

We start this one with a cold open on a Klingon War Ship, which picks up two humans, who then precede to kill everyone aboard.

After the intro, we cut to a Starfleet prison, where Archer is visiting someone, specifically a prisoner who is apparently a genius for genetic modification. This guy and archer have the start of pretty interesting philosophical discussion about how inventions can bring both positives and negatives into the world, and the inventor's responsibility over those consiquences.. It's pretty on the nose way to bring an episode's theme into play, but it is an amazing theme to cover. The episode is about genetic engineering, and uses the example of nuclear science as a comparison example, but I'm also kind of reminded of another example in the Haber Process, a chemical process that can be used to make Fertiliser for crops really cheaply, but was also used to produce poison gas in World War 1.

Apparently, the humans who massacred that Klingon ship were genetically enhanced humans stolen by this prisoner. Archer is tasked with finding them, and bringing them back to earth. The Prisoner, his name Arik Soong, brings fantastic energy as a villain. I love his small innocent jabs at everyone, like telling Malcolm he "hasn't been seeing his share of the publicity". The way he delights getting under everyone's skin is just great, and I love that he seems to have some genuine parental love for the Augments. He is a fascinating villain.

It's lovely seeing Enterprise finally fixed up from the Damage the Xindi put in it. T'Pol has now officially joined Starfleet, and it's kinda cute that he got her a gift for signing up. I love the slight redesign that the bridge has received. The blue really makes it look a lot nicer than just the cold grey over the previous seasons had. A lot less utilitarian, and more homely.

While hunting the Augments, Enterprise is hit and Run by an alien group called The Orion Syndicate, apparently slavers, who transport 9 people off of Enterprise, so Enterprise's current mission is diverted to rescue them.

Luckily, Soong has access to the slave market planet, so he and Archer transport down together for the rescue. Archer's plan is to buy out the prisoners, which works for most of the captives, but T'pol was already sold. The plan to save her involved starting a full blown Riot. However during the process Soong attempts an escape of his own. Archer does successfully bring him back to Enterprise however.

Throughout the episode, we keep cutting back to the augments, and while I'm sure the whole power struggle between Malik and Raakin is plot important, I didn't really care much for them at all, at least until the end. Malik's ruthless takeover and murder of Raakin though was great at setting him up as a villain.

During the escape, some Orions open a firefight with Enterprise, but the Augments show up in their Klingon ship. They fight their way through enterprise, take archer hostage all for rescuing Soong, then make their escape.

This episode was a good set up for the coming story arc. We've got a phenomenal pair of villains, an amazing theme to play with and one hell of a cliffhanger. I'm excited for this arc.

Also, just because of how my day worked out, I ended up watching this one with my Partner, who has never watched an episode of Star Trek before and I'm still taking through Doctor Who. His review is that it "wasn't bad"

[vh-rp]

Rogue - Engineer

Engineers are inventors, creators, tinkerers. They are skilled in creating explosives, elixirs, and hazardous gadgets. People in this class typically enjoy inventing, and would prefer to make that their life’s work. Typically dressed in light armor, if any armor at all, Engineers have high intelligence and a willingness to try something new and potentially fail.

Foci: Artificer Intricate mechanisms are the core of the artificer’s craft: deadly traps; distracting contraptions; marvels of engineering turned to deadly purpose. They are skilled inventors and master trap-makers. If an artificer is standing at the far end of a seemingly innocuous stretch of the battlefield, you should find another path. If he or she is smiling? Best just to hope your affairs are in order.

Within this foci fall the following abilities:

Trap-Making: The artificer is able to craft dangerous traps, imbuing them with poison, grease, and other pleasantries (captrops, spike traps, gas traps, etc.)

Distracting Lure: The artificer uses a peculiar contraption to distract and confuse their enemies

Unique Weaponry: The artificer can craft their own unique weapon, typically far more advanced than whatever else is on the market. (Say hello, Bianca.)

False Trail: The artificer is able to conceal their traps expertly in the environment, making them all but invisible to the naked eye. That alley is totally safe. Totally.

Jar of Bees: The Artificer has invented a…unique sort of bomb, utilizing whatever is at hand. Even the most innocuous things can be deadly in the right hands.

Foci: Alchemist Master chemists and skilled mixologists, the alchemist utilizes their specific expertise to concoct deadly poisons, paralyzing gasses, and more.

Within this foci fall the following abilities:

Enhanced Potions: The alchemist is a skilled mixologist, able to create extremely potent potions and poisons.

Smoke Bombs: Able to conceal their movements by throwing a cloud of smoke at their feet, the alchemist disappears in the resulting fog.

Illusion Gas: Taking their smoke bombs a step further, they are able to craft a diffuse gas that causes hallucinations in anyone who inhales it.

Subtle Poison: The Alchemist can imbue their weapons - or an innocuous object - with a specialized poison that causes damage over time.

Paralytic Philter: The alchemist coats their weapons with a strong paralytic venom, rendering their opponents helpless.

Foci: Tempest These characters take components of non-dwarven items and imbue them with magic—at least, that’s what they’ll tell you. Inventors by trade, magicians by right, falsifying magic is just one way to distract the enemy. They may not be able to use magic, but they sure can fake it.

Within this foci fall the following abilities:

Storm: Able to use alchemical mixtures and specialized techniques that wreathe the rogue in frost or flame.

Elemental Bombs: Character has crafted an assortment of different bombs, employing different elements (fire, lightning, smoke bombs, ice, and more).

Elemental Mines: Setting traps for the unwary, the Tempest is a master at infusing elemental runes into their mines. The moment an enemy steps into the danger zone, they are wreathed in an elemental effect of the Tempests’ choosing.

Enchantment: Using runes or enchanted weapons, the alchemist mimics magic, putting enemies off balance.

Alchemic Defence: These rogues have found ways to negate the effects of the elements. Be it from their own arsenal or the arsenal of others, they don’t seem to take much damage from elemental traps and attacks.

Foci: Tinkerer These rogues are basically mad scientists, using their know-how to create all kinds of machinery. They notoriously use small wisp-like spirits to help run their machines either by luring them in, or offering equivalent exchange. Often the spirits are happy to inhabit a temporary body, given that they are free to leave it at any time.

Within this foci fall the following abilities:

Constructs: Creating small machines in the shape of animals or animated constructs, these machines can be powered by small spirits. They can help in combat, recon, or just as companionship. These can be made out of a variety of material, from wood, metal, or even bone.

Augmentation: These rogues can create gadgets that increase someone’s ability in a certain area for short periods of time. Mechanical limbs are quite popular.

Golem: Golems are much sturdier and larger than their construct counterparts. Made of varying types of metal, these creations must be powered by several spirits at once. These golems do not have an elemental affinity in and of themselves, but by using Tempest abilities, elemental properties may be added.

Technical Expertise: Tinkerers are inventors and engineers first and foremost. They are adept at discerning how something was built, and equally as skilled when it comes to dismantling that something.

Spirit Speaker: The core ability of the Tinkerer is the ability to speak with and make their will known to wisps and other willing spirits. They are attuned to these types of spirits, and are often sought out by them.

[e1dritchjackal0pe]

Rabbit Foot

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢:  𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝖺𝗋 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗌 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗈𝗇 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗋𝗈𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗇 𝗎𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝗇𝗈𝗇𝖾 . . . 𝖺𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗉. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖺 𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽. I𝗍'𝗌 2 𝖺𝗆 𝗌𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗐𝖿𝗎𝗅 

You should have known that this little trip back down to Haddonfield was going too smoothly. Sure, you had only been here for about two days, but still. Disaster is part of the little towns being, stained into its fibers like the residue at a crime scene. It doesn't usually take long for trouble to announce itself. 

Your mother and father's nagging has been down to a surprising low, probably sucking up to you because you're finally back, even if the circumstances are less than ideal, and the few familiar faces that have recognized you when you were down at the market and gas station were kind enough, welcoming you back after all the years. 

So, you honestly can't say you're surprised to see the white strips of smoke snaking out from underneath the orange hood of your car. 

You curse over the sound of Billy Squier belting out the chorus of My Kinda Lover, while checking your rear-view mirror to make sure the road was clear before pulling over on the shoulder.

This is the sort of karma to expect when you drive a busted 70's Pinto. 

But at least your car broke down on a county road and not the highway or interstate. 

You try to remember the steps to take for an overheated vehicle while you set it in park and turn the volume dial down on the radio. You can't recall exactly what your father had told you when you were only a child, zoning in and out of focus on the front drive while he monologued from underneath his truck. 

Pullover . . . Shut off the car . . . pop the hood . . . let it cool . . . Wasn't there something else? God, if only you had payed attention when you were twelve, but the lawn was just so much more appealing than your dad's life lessons. 

You turn the key over in the ignition and extract it, listening to the engine die before getting out and coming round to the front. You have to squint your eyes against the vapors when you fumble for the latch through the grille. As soon as you lift the hood your rushed by a plum of pale smoke. It makes it a pain to find the support rod for a bit, but you get it eventually, successfully propping the hood. Leaving you to stare stupidly at the engine of your car, hissing like a pissed off cat. 

Now . . . What? 

Calling for help would be your best bet. Your mother is a no, as she's undoubtedly working her shift at the bank. Your dad is probably passed out in the living room, snoring on his La-Z-Boy, enjoying the weekend off for once. You really didn't want to give either of them anymore ammunition against you, but the only other option is waiting until your car cooled off enough and hoping it will start when you try. 

While you're deep in your internal debate you fail to notice the thrum of an engine approaching and then relaxing into an idle before cutting off completely.

It's the sound of your name that breaks you from your daze, and you nearly break your neck to turn and face the owner of the voice. They look just as perplexed as you do, staring at you like you're a ghost. 

God, this person looks familiar. You take in his dark doe like eyes, and the mop of curls on his head while he stands a bit awkwardly on the other side of the road next to a gold and black motorcycle. And then it clicks. 

"Corey?" 

"They're talking about me already I see," you joke, a small playful smile curling across your face, easily falling into the swing of conversation. Even after all these years.

A gentle smile raises at the corners of his mouth, and he seems to relax a bit, looking a bit more like the boy you'd see walking the hallways at high school and less like a stranger. Damn, you forgot how cute he looks when he's happy. 

"I was scared you wouldn't remember me, " he says as he covers  the road between the both of you to stand close to the side of your car. " I thought I was going crazy for a minute. Never thought I'd see you back in Haddonfield, again. I mean . . . I heard you were back, but I didn't believe it."

"You know how it is, " he shrugs his shoulder lightly, " can't take a shit without somebody hearing about it" 

"Some things never change, I guess."

"Were you expecting them to?"

"No, " you scoff under a breath of laughter, " I'd never set my expectations for this place that high." 

That gets a chuckle out of him, and you take the lull in conversation to look to the Kawasaki parked across the road. 

  " So, how've you been lately? Looks like you got a new ride." You blurt the question out before you can check yourself. You know how he's been. You've heard the rumors and allegations about him just this afternoon while you were at the market, stocking up on some much-needed junk food and a bottle of wine when you had been practically bum-rushed by your old history teacher, Mrs. Brewer. Upon recognizing you she was quick to crowd into your space with a flurry of questions: " How are you?" " How has life been treating you?" "Got a lucky fella waiting for you back home?" But once all of the formalities were out of the way she was quick to jump into the local gossip that you missed over the years.

Mostly boring disputes between neighbors and little details about ex classmates moving on and starting families. You blanked most of it out, nodding and humming absentmindedly until an old name caught your attention.

" Have you heard about Corey Cunningham? I don't know if you shared any classes with him back in the da - oh, no matter! Well, just a few years after you left, on Halloween - of course it was! - he had been babysitting the Allen's kid. Well . . . " She scoffs in an almost amused manner before leaning in and whispering like she was telling you a big secret. " He had killed him just as the parents had come home. Kicked the poor child over the railing. Tried to say it was an accident. Got away with it too, scot-free. "

Despite Mrs. Brewers intel, you are already well aware of the incident. Your mother had made sure to call you the night right after that Halloween to indulge you every single horrid detail regarding the crime. You had felt confused and possibly even a bit betrayed.

How could Corey commit such a senseless act of violence?

You couldn't have helped the relief that flooded your body when she had called you several months later to share that he had been cleared of all charges.

Corey seems to tense at the question, not that you can blame him. Instead of immediately answering he glances over his shoulder to look at his bike, probably thinking about hopping on it and speeding off. " It's a work in progress, but it gets me from point A to point B so I can't really complain. As for how I've been . . . " There's a pause like he's looking for the right way to phrase it. " I've been surviving. "

After running into your old teacher, you were quick to ask you father about the incident when you had swung by your parents. He had offered you a little more insight, though his opinion of Corey was pretty similar to Mrs. Brewer's and your mothers. That despite being proven innocent, Corey had been quick to be pegged as a social pariah. "I always knew there was something wrong with that kid. Even before that night, " your dad had said before taking a bite of his homemade ham and cheese sandwich.

So, it was just Haddonfield being Haddonfield then. Quick to cast the stone and pass judgement, as per usual.

Sure, you and Corey had never extremely close growing up. Apart from sharing a few classes and the occasional chance encounter your relationship was little more than that. But even then, there was no way that sweet, awkward Corey would willing take a child's life.

You offer him a lifeline, " there's not much else you can do in Haddonfield. " 

That gets a small chuckle out of him, and he seems a bit more at ease again. " You're right about that. But enough about me, how have you been doing? I thought that you couldn't wait to get out of here. What brought you back?" 

"Oh uh, my grandfather passed recently, so I'm here to help go through his things and get everything organized, " you say, swallowing a lump. You've done your best to ignore the dull ache in your chest, but it seems to be getting worse each passing day. And the sad look that Corey gives you doesn't help. He seems like he regrets opening his mouth and for some reason that makes you feel even worse.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

" It still hasn't really clicked that he's gone, you know? So, it's fine. I was actually heading to his house to start working on clearing some things out when this decided to take a shit on me, " you say, lightly kicking the front bumper with your shoe. 

"No, it's fine. Don't feel bad about it, " you say, shaking your head. You meant it too. Despite having to deal with countless people questioning you about your grandfathers passing, having heard the news from your mother no doubt, you don't mind talking about it with Corey. 

He didn't ask you with the intention of opening up wounds and prodding his nose into your family affairs, not the old gossips in town. 

"Mind if I take a look?" He asks.

"Please do. " You back away giving him room to work with and watching him as he leans over to inspect the contents of the engine. The smoke is next to nothing now, spars puffs that evaporate as quickly as they form. You can't help but study him as works, wondering how someone so familiar can look so different. Maybe it's the leather jacket, or the little band of silver that wraps around his pinky finger, or the absence of his glasses that used to rest on the bridge of his nose (contacts, maybe?), but something seems different about him. 

Well, of course, it's been nearly three years since you've seen him, you remind yourself, people change. 

You lean down next to him, pretending to help look for the problem even though the assortment of wires and metal make about as much sense to you as a jumbled pile of puzzle pieces. 

The close proximity lets you catch the scent of his cologne, mostly sandalwood with creamy and smoky undertones, a little bit of leather. Probably his jacket. 

He's got this studious look on his face, eyebrows pinched and slightly furrowed. A loose curl dangles above his eyes and it's a little distracting, a part of you is tempted to move it out of the way for him, to push it into unruly bundle of his hair that looks like it has flecks of amber in it because of the evening sunlight.

"So, what were you doing all the way out here, anyway?"

Jesus, since when have you ever had thoughts like these about Corey Cunningham? He used to be the one who would look at you. You would catch his fleeting glances while on your way to class, always pretending not to see the dreamy stares or the faint blush to his cheeks. 

You weren't stupid. You knew what that look meant.

But you had been in a relationship. And despite the fact that a cute kind guy with warm brown eyes had a crush on you, you stayed away. Because you had a boyfriend who treated you like dog shit and didn't deserve your time. But you were young and stupid and had thought that you were in love. 

His head perks up just a bit at your question and he pauses for a minute before answering. " I just like to ride sometimes. Just get away for a bit, even if it's only for a few minutes. " 

"It looks like it may be a bad radiator hose. They just get old and worn out and snap, " he concludes suddenly, rising to his full height. 

There's something melancholic about it. Even after all these years, his circumstances are still the same, if not worse. It reminds you of one distant chilly November evening. You were down at the local park, gently swaying on a swing when you had noticed a figure briskly walking across the lawn. It didn't take you long to recognize it as Corey. He seemed agitated, tense, like he was too big for his body and was seconds away from bursting out of it. His mother you assumed was most likely the culprit. It was no secret that she was (is) overbearing and controlling. Helicopter parent would be an understatement. When you thought of it, you had never actually seen Corey at any parties or out with friend's past 7:00 pm. 

From what you could gather his life was a constant routine of school and occasionally helping out the Allen's family with mowing their yard and pulling stubborn weeds.

You probably should have stayed put and let him walk away. Out of sight out of mind. 

But your body had a mind of its own, launching off of the swing and in his direction. It had only taken you seconds to reach him, and he looked startled and a bit confused when you had asked if you could join him. But he agreed, nonetheless. 

 You had offered him a few puffs of the joint stuffed in your pocket, but he had declined. He didn't want her to smell it, he confessed, and it had been enough to keep you from pulling it out and lighting it up with your Bic lighter. 

You had talked about everything and nothing, until the sun had dipped down low, and it was just a strip of lavender bordering the horizon. Upon noticing the time, you had said your goodbyes and he ran off in the direction of his house to be home in time for dinner. 

That had been the first time you had heard his laugh. You liked it a lot. 

"How much does that usually cost? " You can already feel the worry creeping in at the thought of your already desperate bank account. You really couldn't afford a large blow to it, right now.

"Eh, it depends really. If you do it yourself or hire someone, " he explains, eyeing the engine and combing a hand through his hair. " The part itself is usually anywhere from fifteen to thirty bucks. It depends on the quality and if you get a mechanic to do it for you." 

Damn, this is definitely what you needed right now. When it rains it pours and the umbrella you have for cover is about as stable your mental health on a busy workday. 

" I could do it, " Corey offers you. 

"How much would you charge me?" 

"No, Corey, I'm serious-"

He shakes his head slightly, shoving his hands in his pockets, " I wouldn't."

You can't help but stare at him like he grew two heads, like he's telling a weird joke and you're waiting for the punchline. Meanwhile he looks as serious as can be.

Almost hopeful if you didn't know any better. 

"So am I, " he states firmly.

The look you give him is incredulous. You're ready to argue and he can tell by the way your jaw open to speak, so he beats you to the punch. 

"I don't want your money," he says. There's a finality to it. He levels you with his eyes almost like he's challenging you to try and argue with him. But you don't want to try and go round and round in circles until one of you relents to the other. You're more confused than anything. And you want answers. 

"Why do you always do that? " You step closer to him like you'd find the answer that way. He's not following judging from is lack of response, so you elaborate, "you're always go out of your way to help me. Like the night back at the gas station. Why?"

A smile pokes at his lips but despite his apparent amusement he answers like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Just a fact. 

"Because you're a good person." 

" So, you won't let me pay you?" 

The response does little to satisfy you and you can't help the huff the gets pushed from your lungs. 'Good person' my ass. But maybe he was telling the truth, maybe it just wasn't the answer you wanted. You wanted that night to mean something more than it did. So that you didn't feel stupid about those old forgotten feelings heating up in your chest. Maybe he was just a nice person. 

Maybe that night when your douche of a boyfriend had kicked you out of his lifted Chevy and out onto the curb of some gas station, Corey had just offered to escort you the three miles back home out of the kindness of his heart. Because he felt bad for you. 

You had felt so embarrassed and useless when you had jumped out of the truck and stormed into the 'Gulf.'  You were at the slurpy machine, filling up a medium sized cup when Corey had approached you. As hesitant as he was, he seemed worried. Brows furrowed and raised with concern. 

He had asked if you were okay, and you had told him you were. It was short, clipped and tired. You had felt guilt gnaw at your stomach as soon as you had responded, but your pride wouldn't let you apologize. 

You expected him to back away, to be put off by your anger. But he didn't. He stayed. 

The two of you would sit outside, drinking a cherry slurpy and a Yoo-Hoo, and he'd sit and listen when the dame broke, and you vented until your throat felt raw. Then he'd offer to walk you home, knowing that you wouldn't call your parents. Wouldn't give them the satisfaction of saying, "I told you so." Despite the fact that his own mother would have his head for having vanished for about two hours without so much as a word. 

He'd guard you both as you strolled down the lonely streets lined with dim lamps, while the rest of Haddonfield was piled in the bleachers cheering on the Huskers while they played against their long-term rivals, the Montgomery Wolverines. 

All the way up to the doorstep of your house where you'd whisper a thank you and goodnight, punctuated by a light kiss on his cheek before fleeing into the confines of your home before you could see the way his face flushed in response. 

Was that just because he was a good person? 

" You can, but I'll just find a way to slip it back to you, " he says honestly. That smile is back. Cocky and self-assured. It's one you've never seen on him before, and you can't tell if it excites you or pisses you off. "We can go back to the garage, and I'll get the tow truck. Come back and get your car. With all the junk that passes through I'm sure we've probably got what you need laying around somewhere. We'll have back up and running and on your way to your grandfathers in no time." 

What the hell, maybe you can convince him to let you pay him once you get a decent meal in him. 

The two of you have a stare off for a few good seconds while you mull the offer over. As tempting as it is to let someone else take care of your problems, your morals are having trouble bending over. A compromise maybe? 

"Fine, "you relent. " But I'm buying dinner."

"Sounds like a deal," he agrees. "You can come with me if you want. It'll be dark soon and I don't like the idea of being out here all alone."

"Hey! " You call over to him, his head snapping up in your direction. " You want something to drink before I lock up? I got a cooler full of water and some sodas if you want. No chocolate milk unfortunately. " 

There's a protective edge to his voice and you can't help but think about how much you like it. You nod, giving a quick 'okay' in agreement before moving around to lock the doors and roll up the windows of your car. The last thing you need is for some jackass to steal your vehicle while you're gone. Despite how shitty it may be. 

Corey crosses the road to his Kawasaki and stands over it, giving it a strong downward push to one of the pedals. Effectively kickstarting the machine in a way that shouldn't be as attractive as it is. 

"What I need right now is you on my bike," he says seriously. You're thankful for the wanning sunlight, or else he probably would be able to see how flustered you are. The embarrassment would kill you.  "Alright, alright! I'm coming!" You call, slamming the driver side door closed, stepping away from the car and approaching Corey and the idling motorcycle. 

You place a hand on Corey's shoulder to stabilize yourself as you swing a leg over to straddle the ride.

"Hold on tight, " he warns.

It prompts you to wrap your arms around his waist and he briefly puts a hand on your forearm and squeezes before gassing up the throttle and lurching forward with a hearty growl from the engine. 

You can't help the airy giggle that bubbles up in your throat, and you're pretty sure that shaking from Corey's body is due to his own laughter, but you can't hear the sound over the sound of the motorcycle roaring down the county road. 

In this moment, however brief it maybe, you forget everything. Your grandfathers passing, your mother and father, your responsibilities, Haddonfield.

It all goes away with the rush of adrenaline that jumps through your veins and the wind in your hair. 

It's just you, Corey and the road. And you think you haven't felt so alive in forever.

Maybe being back isn't going to be a complete bust after all. 

[volboozter-engineering]

The Advantages of Industrial Solar Power Plant Installation | Volboozter Coimbatore

In recent years, the adoption of solar power has surged across various sectors, with industrial applications being particularly impactful. Industrial solar power plant installations offer numerous benefits, from economic savings to environmental sustainability. Here, we explore the primary advantages of industrial solar power for businesses and industries.

1. Cost Savings

Reduction in Energy Bills: One of the most compelling reasons for industries to adopt solar power is the significant reduction in energy bills. Solar energy systems generate electricity from sunlight, a free resource, thereby lowering dependence on grid electricity and reducing operational costs.

Incentives and Tax Benefits: Many governments offer incentives, subsidies, and tax credits for solar power installations. These financial benefits can substantially offset the initial investment costs, making solar power more accessible and cost-effective for industrial applications.

Stable Energy Costs: Unlike fossil fuels, which are subject to market fluctuations, solar energy provides a stable and predictable energy source. This stability helps industries manage their long-term energy budgets more effectively.

2. Environmental Benefits

Reduction in Carbon Footprint: Solar power is a clean, renewable energy source that produces no greenhouse gas emissions during operation. By switching to solar energy, industries can significantly reduce their carbon footprint and contribute to the fight against climate change.

Sustainable Energy Source: Solar energy is inexhaustible and sustainable. Unlike fossil fuels, solar power does not deplete natural resources, ensuring a continuous energy supply without environmental degradation.

3. Energy Independence and Security

Energy Independence: Industrial solar power installations allow businesses to generate their electricity, reducing reliance on external energy suppliers and enhancing energy security. This independence is particularly valuable in regions with unstable energy supplies or high electricity costs.

Resilience Against Power Outages: Solar power systems, especially when combined with battery storage solutions, can provide a reliable backup power source during grid outages. This resilience ensures continuous operations and minimizes downtime, which is crucial for industrial processes.

4. Technological Advancements and Innovation

Integration with Smart Technologies: Modern solar power systems can be integrated with smart grid technologies, allowing for efficient energy management and optimization. Industries can use data analytics to monitor energy usage, predict maintenance needs, and improve overall energy efficiency.

Scalability and Flexibility: Solar power installations are highly scalable and can be tailored to meet the specific energy needs of an industrial facility. Whether it's a small manufacturing unit or a large industrial complex, solar power systems can be designed to fit various scales and requirements.

5. Positive Corporate Image and Social Responsibility

Enhancing Corporate Image: Adopting solar power demonstrates a company’s commitment to sustainability and environmental responsibility. This proactive stance can enhance the corporate image, attract eco-conscious customers, and improve relationships with stakeholders.

Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR): Industries that invest in renewable energy contribute positively to their communities by promoting sustainable practices. This contribution aligns with broader CSR goals, creating a positive impact on society and the environment.

6. Job Creation and Economic Growth

Local Job Creation: The installation, maintenance, and operation of solar power systems create jobs in local communities. This job creation supports economic growth and provides employment opportunities in various sectors, including engineering, construction, and technical services.

Boosting the Green Economy: By investing in solar power, industries contribute to the growth of the green economy, fostering innovation and development in renewable energy technologies.

Conclusion

Industrial solar power plant installations offer a plethora of advantages, from substantial cost savings and environmental benefits to enhanced energy security and a positive corporate image. As the world moves towards sustainable and renewable energy sources, industries that embrace solar power are not only future-proofing their operations but also playing a crucial role in building a cleaner, greener, and more sustainable future.

By capitalizing on the benefits of solar energy, industries can achieve long-term economic and environmental gains, ensuring their growth and success in an increasingly eco-conscious market.

See more: https://www.volboozter.com/

[cuprohastes]

I shall now pick this object up...

Garf, Un-Named Male, Phalanges Mittens and Cat Fantastic were in theory working on part of the live ecosystem reclamation down in Sanitation.

Not an especially unusual situation, since they were after all, really high tech sanitation engineers from the future; or from their point of view, Life Support Tech.

A job's a job and people like to breathe clean air, not die of 'drinking water' or have to wade through sewage of any level.

The issue had been traced to monitoring probe that was hallucinating, and thus the apparent issue had been resolved in two minutes of work, three of swearing at a stuck bolt, and ten of getting Cat Fantastic to go get the replacement part, which had led to a long discussion between Garf and Un-Named male about how weird it was to see a Little Guy without a Big Atrix.

"Yes -- but Cat drives that tool trolley around, so it helps." Phalanges said, referring to the robotic workbench nicknamed "The Office".

The workbench was originally designed to follow a worker around, but since Phlanges didn't have a pouch for his Little Guy the way Garf did,t he and Dave had converted the thing to keep Cat warm.

Later, once they got the manual remote replaced by a unit Cat could use, they'd added a basket for snacks so Cat could do a drinks and sandwich run to the Cafeteria, and a cargo box to haul parts and tools.

Around then Dave herself showed up and took a professional look through the viewport at huge tray of essentially very wet dirt that a variety of mosses and fungi and earth plants were cohabiting on.

Dave of course was the certified expert in this system, so it behoved her to stick her snout in and take a look-see.

"Stuck gas probe?" she guessed and then rather theatrically reached in and picked up a bottle of Lychee soda from the snack storage using two claws.

Garf and the two Little Guys reacted appropriately with amazement and Phalanges who was actually Human and usually fairly good at this stuff had to say, "OK what am I missing?".

Almost everyone held up their hands.

Phalanges looked around and then held up his hand.

"Oh. Oh!" he said.

Tsin have three fingers and an opposable thumb. All of them have large, sturdy digging claws.

Atrix have two fingers and two thumbs, which have thick, conical claws.

Terrafruit Fruits of Earth (Tee Em) bottles have no claws but are very smooth and incredibly hard to hold unless one get's their palm and fingers around it... and Dave had lifted it human style.

Dave's not human. She's a Tsin. This may or may not have been mentioned before.

Phalanges, biologically human but extremely well integrated with non-human ergonomics gets it.

"OK... I can tell you're dying to show off." he said.

"You bet your sweet bippy I am!" said Dave who's mastery of colloquial English was charmingly archaic.

She held out a hand and on examination: There were silicone pads fixed in place on the inside curve of her claws - Textured pads.

"Hang on, is that...?" said Phalanges, and Dave said "Yes! Fingerprints!"

"Who's?"

"Nobody's. It's a generated, semi symmetrical pattern, and they're all the same." explained Dave. "They're called Humanfingers."

"A name that will not cause any confusion or sound weird and creepy." said Phalanges wryly. "Though I can see the use."

"Yeah. They were invented on the station." Dave said proudly. "And I think the marketing lab is working on the name. As per normal it's Eat your Own Mushrooms time so I have been Authorised to distribute everyone's test sets. Let me just reach into my pocket..."

Dave made a show of taking out individual packets with just her claw tips. Two small sets for Un-Named Male and Cat Fantastic. One for Garf, who started by helping un-named Male get his on so he could help her.

Phalanges took the hint and helped his Little Guy, and soon Cat was practicing with them on The Office's control pad, Un-Named male doing some backseat driving.

"And of course, because the computer was told to automate the manufacturing and disbursement for all non-humans based on staff profiles..." said Dave with glee.

"Oh no." said Phalanges and held out a hand.

Dave dropped the last packet into his hand. It contained ten thimble like objects with oval pads on each.

"The print team were so amused when they got the error that they didn't have the right biometric data that they whipped up a unique set for you." Dave told her buddy.

Phalanges - Priorly the other Dave of Dave The Human and Dave the Human ceremoniously put them all on and made menacing finger wiggles. "You know this means that I can no longer be identified for my many future crimes via fingerprint." he said.

Dave looked at Garf, who shrugged and said, "Don't look at me. This monster... you created."

[nmsc-market-pulse]

The Art of Building Meat: Bioprinting Techniques in Cultured Meat Market Production

Introduction:

The future of food is taking shape in bioreactors and 3D printers. Cultured Meat Market, also known as clean meat or lab-grown meat, emerges as a revolutionary solution to the environmental and ethical concerns surrounding traditional meat production. This article delves into the fascinating world of bioprinting techniques, a key component in creating complex, delicious cultured meat products.

Download FREE Sample: https://www.nextmsc.com/cultured-meat-market/request-sample

Cultured Meat: A Sustainable Disruption

Traditional meat production carries a significant environmental burden, contributing to deforestation, greenhouse gas emissions, and water pollution. Cultured meat offers a promising alternative, growing meat from animal cells in a controlled environment.

Here's a simplified breakdown of the process:

Cell Collection: A small sample of muscle stem cells is obtained from an animal through a minimally invasive procedure.

Cell Culture: These cells are multiplied in a nutrient-rich medium within bioreactors.

Differentiation and Maturation: Controlled growth factors in the medium stimulate the cells to differentiate and mature into muscle tissue.

Bioprinting: This innovative step allows for precise arrangement of the cells to create the desired structure and texture of meat.

Maturation and Processing: The bioprinted meat undergoes further maturation and processing to achieve the final product.

Inquire before buying: https://www.nextmsc.com/cultured-meat-market/inquire-before-buying

Bioprinting: Engineering the Future of Meat

Bioprinting takes cultured meat production to a whole new level. Here's how it works:

Digital Design: A computer-aided design (CAD) model is created to define the desired structure of the meat product, such as a steak or a burger patty.

Bioink Preparation: A biocompatible material, often containing a mixture of cells, nutrients, and scaffolding materials, is prepared for printing.

3D Printing Process: The bioink is loaded into a bioprinter, which uses computer-controlled mechanisms to deposit the bioink layer-by-layer, replicating the designed structure.

Cell Culture and Maturation: Once printed, the bioprinted cells are allowed to mature and grow within a bioreactor, mimicking the natural development of muscle tissue.

Benefits of Bioprinting for Cultured Meat

Bioprinting offers several advantages in the production of cultured meat:

Complex Structures: Bioprinting allows for the creation of complex, multi-cellular structures that mimic the texture and marbling of traditional meat cuts. This is difficult to achieve with traditional culturing techniques.

Fat Distribution: Bioprinting enables precise control over fat distribution within the meat, allowing for the creation of leaner or marbled cuts as desired.

Customization: Bioprinting paves the way for personalized meat products tailored to specific dietary needs or preferences.

Vascularization: Bioprinting can potentially be used to create vascular networks within the cultured meat, promoting cell growth and mimicking the natural delivery of nutrients and oxygen.

Types of Bioprinting Techniques for Cultured Meat

Several bioprinting techniques are being explored for cultured meat production, each with its own advantages and limitations:

Extrusion-based Bioprinting: This common technique uses a pressurized system to deposit bioink through a nozzle, creating a filamentous structure. It's suitable for high-viscosity bioinks but may have limitations in resolution.

Inkjet Bioprinting: Similar to an inkjet printer, this technique uses a jet of bioink droplets to create a patterned structure. It offers high resolution but may be limited in the types of bioinks it can handle.

Stereolithography (SLA): This light-based technique uses a laser to solidify layers of bioink resin, building the desired structure layer-by-layer. It offers high accuracy but may require specialized biomaterials.

Challenges and Opportunities in Bioprinting for Cultured Meat

While bioprinting holds immense promise, some challenges need to be addressed:

Cost Reduction: Bioprinting equipment and bioink development are currently expensive, requiring cost optimization for large-scale production.

Bioink Development: Creating bioinks that are biocompatible, support cell growth, and allow for precise printing remains an ongoing area of research.

Scalability: Scaling up bioprinting processes to meet commercial production demands requires further advancements in technology and infrastructure.

However, these challenges offer exciting opportunities for innovation:

Advancements in Biomaterial Science: Development of affordable and efficient bioinks specifically tailored for cultured meat is crucial for large-scale adoption.

Bioprinter Design and Optimization: Improvements in bioprinter design can increase printing speed, resolution, and efficiency for cost-effective production.

Collaboration Between Researchers and Industry: Collaboration can accelerate research and development efforts to overcome technical hurdles and improve bioprinting techniques.

Conclusion: A Bite of the Future - Bioprinted Cultured Meat

Bioprinting represents a transformative leap in the world of cultured meat. This technology holds the potential to create delicious, sustainable, and ethical meat alternatives, replicating the textures and flavors we crave.

While challenges remain in terms of cost reduction, bioink development, and scalability, ongoing research and collaboration are paving the way for advancements. Bioprinting paves the way for a future where:

Cultured meat becomes readily available and affordable for consumers.

Bioprinting techniques can create a wider variety of meat products, from steaks to sausages.

Consumers can enjoy the taste and texture of meat while making a positive environmental impact.

[savage-rhi]

Mending Shadows // Chapter 16

Summary:

Y/N was a simple Scavenger of Lucis, until meeting a deadly blow at the hands of an infected creature. At the crossroads of death, they are found by Niflheim’s cryptic Chancellor with his own agenda. Now bonded to Ardyn Izunia, and tossed into the world of Niflheim, Y/N struggles to cope with their new life as an Imperial Icon all the while battling their feelings toward their fate and that of Ardyn’s.

Click here to read on AO3

Y/N was in awe of the sights that flew past them. Gralea was teeming with an abundance of nightlife that rivaled the festivities of the Imperial Palace. People were constantly coming and going from restaurants, and other establishments of entertainment. Had Y/N not been accustomed to Insomnia’s local nightlife, they could’ve easily seen themself being overwhelmed by it all.

The population was small compared to Insomnia, but the empires capitol had it beat when it came to accessibility. Last Y/N had heard, it was becoming more popular in Insomnia to travel by car than by foot since vehicles were becoming affordable. Two of the lower districts stripped out their parks, just to make the roads big. Y/N furrowed their brows at the thought. It seemed Gralea was going the opposite direction. Roads that probably once housed hundreds of cars, now belonged to pop up market stands and the like. The changes made sense to Y/N, given Tuti's long-winded explanation on how the war effected the local economy. 

“You’ve been rather quiet since we left.” Ardyn mused as he drove further down the main street.

“There’s a lot to look at,” Y/N countered with a grin, still looking out the passenger window of the Vixen. “It’s so much different at night than during the day.” 

Ardyn chuckled. 

“What is it?” Y/N turned their head. 

“Ah,” He sighed. “To be that naïve again…the city hasn’t left it’s mark on you yet.” 

“I thought you liked the capitol?” 

“Well,” Ardyn made a face. “I adore parts of the capitol, but of course there’s always the less than pleasant areas. The slums, and the magitek storage buildings take up a generous section of the city. Gralea is full of them these days.” 

“Because of the war?” 

Ardyn nodded. “Unfortunately so.” 

“I didn’t think you’d be bothered by that, considering you work close with the military.” Y/N pulled their eyes from the window and faced forward, feeling the Vixen come to a halt at a red light. “Ravus implied that you have a track record for ensuring finances don't go to helping people." 

"Did he now?" Ardyn huffed, faintly smirking.

Y/N nodded. 

“What else did he tell you?”

“Aside from the under handed comments you heard, not much else.” Y/N shrugged. 

The light turned green, and Ardyn gently pressed the Vixen’s gas pedal, not noticing the concerned look Y/N held for him while he was clouded by thought.

“Ardyn?” 

“I shouldn’t have strayed from your side,” He admitted quietly. His fingertips flexed around the steering wheel. “Had I known what was being said, I could’ve nipped it all in a bud.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Y/N gently protested. “I told you to leave, and I understand a big part of your job is to mingle. Besides, I think the ride more than makes up for things already. It’s nice not being gawked at anymore.” 

“To be fair to the guests this evening,” Ardyn cleared his throat. “I’d find it hard not to take one’s eyes off of you. Not with how enticing you look in your outfit.” 

The blush was so instantaneous on Y/N’s face, that it felt like a small fire had been lit underneath them. The knowing smile he gave held a warmth that felt private in nature; that not everyone got to see Ardyn in this sort of light. It seemed to Y/N that Ardyn sensed he may have overstepped an unsaid boundary, and went silent. The only noise within the Vixen was the engine’s soft rumbles, the rise and fall of Ardyn’s breaths, Y/N’s heartbeat rising, and the melody emitting from the radio. 

“What song is this?” Y/N murmured curiously, attempting to break the tension that was growing in the car. 

“Oh, it’s a dear old tune! Shiva’s Lament,” Ardyn appeared to have snapped out of his state of despondence while he grinned. To Y/N he looked like he was suddenly in the throes of nostalgia, and his eyes lit up, causing them to smile so big that it hurt. “In my time, it was a hymn quite often performed at blessing sites to signal the passage of Fall into Winter.”

When the song hit a particular beat, Y/N let out a surprised breath. “This part, I’ve heard it before. It’s played at funerals in Lucis.” 

“I’m not surprised to hear that. It’s quite melancholy.” Ardyn chuckled before grimacing at a sudden epiphany. “I could change it, if it’s bringing the mood down?” 

“No, no. It strangely feels appropriate.” Y/N waved him off and laughed. As the song continued it’s climb, Y/N felt at ease. Their worries related to the Gala faded into the background. Even the scourge felt at rest. The night was still young, and fears could wait for the dawn. 

Settled with themself, Y/N rubbed the back of their neck, pondering for a moment. 

“Ardyn?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Would it be crossing a line if I asked you more questions, about life back then, 2,000 years ago?” 

Although quite taken, Ardyn laughed. He very much wanted the past to die with him, but as he lingered on the feelings of joy he felt moments ago--explaining the importance of Shiva’s Lament in historical context--Ardyn felt temptation steer him onto another path. He tilted his head toward Y/N, genuinely smiling not only through his mouth, but through his eyes as well. 

“What else would you like to know?” Ardyn slyly asked. He grinned, seeing Y/N’s features brighten with eagerness. “But first, quid pro quo: tell me a song that you enjoy.” 

Both Ardyn and Y/N talked for what felt like hours in the car. The debate about horseback riding versus chocobo racing died down by the time Ardyn parked in front of the restaurant he picked out. Y/N found it rather humorous when Ardyn insisted for them to wait until he got out first. The two bickered playfully about it for a time, until Y/N consolidated. Their eyes tracked his movement as Ardyn waltzed to the other side of the vehicle, and opened the passenger door for Y/N to step out from. 

“That was fancy of you.” Y/N mused with a snort, smiling at how Ardyn coltishly scoffed. 

“Old habits die hard, I’m afraid.” Ardyn chuckled. “If its any consolation, I would’ve done the same thing if we were to arrive on either horse or chocobo back.” 

“You weren’t kidding about formality being beaten into you from a young age.” Y/N shook their head. They paused when Ardyn offered his hand to them. Y/N's eyes glanced over his fingers, seeing callouses on his pads and how his forefinger had a little scar on it. A brief wave of what felt like nausea hit them, and Y/N was unsure why they were suddenly feeling nervous. 

“Have I overstepped?”

Ardyn’s concern snapped Y/N out of their head. 

“No,” They took hold of his hand, rising up from the seat of the car. Somehow they forced themself to peer up at Ardyn, noting the content smile he wore. The wholesome façade faded when they caught onto the glint of mischievousness in his amber eyes. 

“What is it?"

“I was going to say something along the line of, 'I didn't take you for having a hand fixation', but I reminded myself I'm attempting to be civil this night with you." 

“Boy, aren’t you accommodating.” Y/N rolled their eyes, suppressing an embarrassed chortle. 

“In more ways than one!” Ardyn laughed. He began to absentmindedly run his fingertips over the back of Y/N’s hand. He hadn’t realized what he was doing until he witnessed the small tremble in Y/N’s throat. His mouth parted, wanting to say something; but no words formed. The sincere intimacy of his actions had Ardyn let go of Y/N’s hand, and he offered his arm in exchange. He was thankful that Y/N didn’t make a spectacle out of what transpired, merely smiling and taking what was given. 

“I have to warn you, it might be a bit of a wait once we’re inside.” Ardyn said as he led the way. 

“I thought with you being an upper crust, you’d skip ahead of the line?” 

“I could, but where’s the fun in that?” Ardyn chuckled. “Besides, it’s not every night I have company. I was rather enjoying you going off about the chocobo farm in Duscae.”  

“I thought you tuned me out at that point.” Y/N laughed, feeling their face blush a little. “I know I went overboard. You mentioned having a chocobo way back when, and I couldn’t help but be reminded of the place.” 

“I found your little rant rather endearing to be honest,” Ardyn smirked. “For someone as bird brained as you.” 

“Hey!” 

“Now, now,” Ardyn playfully hushed. “Surely I can make up for being insensitive toward your nature?” 

“What are you offering?” 

“What do you want?”

The cadence of his tone was bordering between flirty and ominous, and the allure of it had Y/N's mind short circuit. Y/N yanked themself out of the thought. 

“Nothing,” Y/N simply replied. They could’ve sworn he looked slightly disappointed. “Nothing except for you to foot the bill.” 

“I thought that was already established?” Ardyn snorted, raising a brow. 

“Just driving the point home is all.” Y/N teased. 

“It seems I’m rubbing off on you.” 

The pair were quiet on the way up to the entrance of the restaurant. The architecture was quite modern on the outside. Through the windows, it was even fancier. Something that Y/N knew was way out of their league. Nonetheless, they felt excited at the prospect of trying out something new. Ardyn had ranted and raved about the place during the car ride, to the point where Y/N was surprised he didn’t do any commercials on the restaurants behalf. Then again, for all his flamboyancy, Y/N could tell he wasn’t the type to be a hype man. At least not in that fashion.

Once inside, Y/N could hear music in the background being played by a small classical band. The piano piece was the obvious showcase for the evening, while string instruments simply carried the beat. The place wasn’t too packed with people, but there were enough bodies to give the impression that going here was like going to an amusement park of sorts for the upper class. 

Y/N could feel themself getting self conscious at the latter thought. Though they were certainly dressed for the occasion--having come from the Imperial Gala--they couldn’t help but feel they were lacking something. This especially rang true when the patrons began to gawk at both them and Ardyn. Y/N could hear the hushed whispers come and go, signifying that the pond had been disturbed. 

Ardyn sighing at the rumble of his cell phone dragged Y/N from their thoughts. They watched him dig through the inner pocket of his jacket, and pulled it out. His eyes gazed over the screen with annoyance. 

“You okay?”

“I’m afraid I have to take this,” Ardyn replied. He gestured to the main line. “Wait here and keep our spot. I’ll be back in a moment.” 

“Okay, no problem.” 

The brief apologetic look Ardyn offered before leaving was rather sweet.

Sweet…? Y/N did a double take at themself, finding it peculiar their mind went that direction. Then again, there really wasn’t any other way to describe how he looked in that moment. They decided to distract themself by looking at the decorum, admiring some of the tapestry that hung by the windows and across the ceiling. 

Ten minutes passed, and the line moved up a little. Though there was obvious intrigue coming from the Imperials, no one was feeling courageous enough to talk to Y/N. They had a feeling it was because of Ardyn’s presence lurking somewhere in the background. Y/N knew if the shoe were on the other foot, they too would’ve felt intimidated to approach someone who was considered a guest of honor. Like fish in a pond, the Imperials were tempted by the shiny bait, but they didn't want to be the first to take a bite, less they startle something bigger than themselves. 

Y/N furrowed their brows when considering their new position while combing over their experiences throughout the night. They didn’t feel like a powerful figure, but merely a side show creature for the true rulers to feast their eyes upon. The only time where they felt a sense of normalcy was when Loqui had introduced them to his battalion, and when Ardyn decided to be spontaneous. With how dare say civil he had been toward them, Y/N wondered if it was possible to confide in Ardyn about their misgivings. After all, he too was putting on a well played act for all of Niflheim. Surely he could relate on some level, pretending to be someone he was not. 

“A pardon,” 

“Yes?” 

Y/N spun around, coming face to face with an older gentleman and an assistant. 

“Are you the Lucian guest whom was at the Gala this evening?” 

Y/N nodded, preparing themself for an onslaught of intrusive questions. They had gone through the motions so many times this evening, that they felt ready. 

“I’m afraid you’re being asked to leave.” 

“Leave?” 

“Yes. Several of our finest patrons have walked out. Your presence has caused a stir, and for the sake of not causing a scene, I’m asking you to be on your way.” The older man firmly nodded. His younger counterpart offered an apologetic look, before interjecting to save face. 

“My manager here wanted me to tell you, but I hadn’t the strength. I’m sorry.” 

Y/N was at a loss for words. Anger began to bite the back of their mind, but they quelled their fire for now, wanting to give the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps this was an issue of money.

“If you think I can’t afford it, I have plenty of gil.” 

“No, no. You mistaken my request due to classism. Allow me to correct you,” The manager cleared his throat, staring at Y/N with contempt. “Imperials have every right to be here. I don’t recall there being a sign that said we welcome Lucians.” 

“I can’t believe this,” Y/N shook their head, not noticing that a small crowd was peering at the commotion. Like fish seeing a worm struggling at the surface of the water, they couldn't help but curiously watch. “I didn’t want to play this card, but I’m here with Chancellor Izunia. If there’s a problem, you can speak with him.” 

Y/N felt the managers dark eyes comb over their form, sizing them up. Whether it was for a battle of wits or if he was physically going to shove them out of the establishment was anybody’s guess. He didn’t believe them, for Y/N watched as he curtly laughed, not bothering to hide his bullish behavior.

“And where is your esteemed escort now?” 

“He’s taking a phone call,” Y/N said in Ardyn’s defense. “If you don’t want me here, fine. I’m not looking for a fight, but I will wait for him to return.” 

“Oh please!” The manager’s voice raised, no longer remaining cordial. “You may have been granted asylum, but to be in his excellency’s personal graces is a laugh!” 

“I’m not lying about this,” Y/N stood their ground. “And I will wait here until he comes back.” 

“The day the Chancellor comes to your aid is the day you could buy my soul for 20 gil. Now get a move on, now!” 

“Care to make due on that bet?” The commanding radiance of Ardyn’s voice carried through the crowd and into the ears of the manager. He narrowed his gaze upon the older man as he walked up behind Y/N, and stood at their side. 

“C-Chancellor!” 

“You dare raise your voice at my companion?” 

“I--I meant no harm, it’s just they were causing a scene until you--” 

“Not another word,” Ardyn nearly hissed. “Do not try and coddle, I know a liar when I see one and there is no way you’re getting out of this unscathed. You’ve been insufferable making an idiotic fool out of yourself!” 

Y/N peered up at Ardyn, seeing the glimmer of fury in his calm eyes. Though he gave no indication of malice from his posture, Y/N could feel animosity channeling off of his body. If Ravus had angered him before, this situation had kicked it up a level. He was utterly pissed. All Y/N wanted to do now was leave, just as they had promised the manager from the start. 

Before Ardyn could go off on a verbal tongue lash, Y/N carefully reached for his wrist and gave a gentle tug. The corner of his right eye immediately looked their way. Tension drifted between both Y/N and Ardyn while the former silently pleaded for mercy, not wanting to be the center of attention anymore. They cautiously gazed over Ardyn as if he would burst into a million shadows, and ensnare the souls of everyone in the vicinity. His body gave off a slight tremble, signaling his conflict. 

“I realized something,” Ardyn calmly said while giving his full attention to Y/N, ignoring the manager and the patrons who were greedily watching the spectacle. 

“What’s that?” Y/N nervously asked. 

“That I’d much rather take you somewhere else. Somewhere more…accepting.” 

He didn’t allow for further talk nor protest. His arm carefully went around Y/N’s waist, and he coaxed them out of the restaurant, ignoring the commotion that was left in the wake of the event. Ardyn's silence was so cold, that Y/N didn’t say a word until they reached the Vixen in the parking lot. 

“I’m sorry--”

“I’m going to stop you there,” Ardyn interrupted with a sigh. He stood in front of Y/N, looking over them as if they had been dealt a physical injury. “You have nothing to apologize for.” 

“Yeah, but you loved coming here. I feel like I keep ruining things. First pissing off your peers at the Gala, and now this.” Y/N let out a deep breath, shaking their head in disappointment. “I’m only going to be here for a short time. You don’t deserve to lose out on the things you enjoy just because of me.” 

Ardyn canted his head with curiosity, smiling when he saw the puzzlement that dwelled on Y/N’s face at his behavior. He chortled, and raised his right hand to their face. He booped their nose with his index finger before flicking their forehead. The yelp Y/N let out was priceless. 

“Let me make something clear to you,” Ardyn stated firmly after fulfilling his antics. “While our relationship has been…unorthodox, I won’t let another nor yourself speak so low of you. From this night onward, you're a reflection of me in every sense of the term. When someone puts you down, it also puts me down. Much like our bond, my reputation is yours. I bow down to no one, and neither shall you." 

The sentiment was so strange to hear coming from him, that Y/N could scarce believe it. Speechless, they watched how Ardyn's features went from genuine to downright conniving; like a professional prankster who suddenly had a really bad, but very good idea. 

“Anyhow, there are plenty of midnight thrills we can feast upon aside from this sorry establishment. I believe I know just the place where you’ll feel at home. That is, if you’re up to it of course?” 

As much as Y/N had grown weary from the long night thus far, they couldn’t ignore the silent plead Ardyn had. With some reluctance, Y/N offered a small smile and nodded.

It wasn’t long before they both were once again in the car, driving off into the night with the radio on a low hum. Through banter and laughs, the peace either felt was unmatched.

[vaiswr]

Small Gas Engines Market Size Worth USD 5.46 Billion in 2032

The global small gas engines market size was USD 3.21 Billion in 2022 and is expected to register a revenue CAGR of 5.5% during the forecast period, according to latest analysis by Emergen Research. Rising adoption of electric start and hybrid engines is a key factor driving market revenue growth.

Small gas engines are commonly used in various applications including lawnmowers, generators, and other outdoor power equipment. There is rising emphasis on reducing emissions from small gas engines to meet stringent environmental regulations. Manufacturers are investing in Research & Development (R&D) to create cleaner and more fuel-efficient engines. Electric start engines reduce physical strain on users, as these don't require strenuous pulling of a starter cord, which can be particularly beneficial for older individuals or those with physical limitations. As consumers become more accustomed to electric start and hybrid technology in various applications, they may prefer equipment that offers these features.

[dsiddhant]

Mar 15, 2023 (AB Digital via COMTEX) -- The global Small Gas Engines Market is projected to reach USD 4.3 billion in 2028 from USD 3.3 billion in 2023 at a CAGR of 5.4% according to a new report by MarketsandMarkets™. The Small Gas Engines Market has promising growth...

[mollywog]

If THG's characters are living in modern world (now), what do you feel would be their profession?

Also, what would they study in university?

PS : For Peeta (baker or painter) and Mrs Everdeen (nurse or doctor), could you list another profession beside those please?

You can include as many characters as you can or want.

Thank you so much 😀

@curiousnonny

@curiousnonny I got carried away…

Katniss and Gale remained friends through college, both majoring in environmental science. However Gale went on to get his masters in environmental engineering after completing his BA, while Katniss opted to take a job out of school.

She started at an environmental consultant firm where she worked ungodly hours ‘in the field’ during the growing season and barely at all in the office through winter. The pay was better than she could have hoped for and the overtime helped support Prim through medical school.

Katniss’s work revolved around environmental permitting, mostly for prospective pipelines. She worked efficiently and was quickly promoted and paired with Rue for field work.

Her indirect connection with the natural gas industry was a bone of contention in Katniss and Gale’s friendship. This difference in opinion left them at odds for years, eventually reconciling. His aspirations switched to politics in an effort to enforce higher environmental standards.

In her initial panic to find housing upon accepting her first job in a new city, Katniss found a roommate via Craigslist. It seemed like a good fit on paper: An HR rep at a local advertising/marketing firm, around the same age, self proclaimed nature lover. Good enough: Katniss signed the lease sight unseen.

Johanna was not what Katniss expected: Katniss had no idea how Jo maintained an HR position. But when Katniss said as much Johanna retorted with a lewd comment about other ‘positions’ she’d ‘maintained’ in the office, further proving Katniss’s point. Despite some of their obvious differences, they complemented each other well as roommates.

Katniss was new to Capital, and Jo made it her mission to introduce her around. Johanna didn’t believe in leaving work at work so most of her friends were colleagues: Finnick, a local model (used by Jo’s firm) Castor and Pollux, cameramen (contracted by Jo’s firm for ad work), and Cressida, a lead within the visual media creative team (at Jo’s firm.)

The first year as roommates, Johanna insisted Katniss tag along for her company’s ‘not-Christmas’ party. At this point Katniss felt like she knew half of Jo’s office and the call of free food and drink was to great for her to resist. While hiding in a corner by the hors d'oeuvres, she bumped into Peeta, a classmate from her small town. What were the odds?!

He now also happened to work for Jo’s firm as a graphic artists. Katniss’s initial shyness was overcome by Peeta’s warmth and her third beer. By the time Jo found them, she was picking up on the chemistry. Peeta made an offhand joke about fate bringing them together, so after the party Jo ensured there was a string of ‘fateful’ meetings between the two. Johanna would invite Peeta over for game night, but when he’d arrive Katniss would be home alone and unaware of any plans. Etc. etc…

(HR Johanna inspired by Pam Poovey)

[argyrocratie]

"A great deal of the offshored industrial production at the other end of the extended supply chains celebrated in People’s Republic of Walmart is actually carried out in comparatively small job shops that would be more efficiently collocated with local market areas. The technology at the actual point of production, in such cases, is modest in scale and best suited for local or regional production. But it’s enclosed within a corporate institutional framework of extended logistic chains through the framework of copyright, patent, and trademark law which gives corporations a legal monopoly on disposal of an outsourced product. The only reason the facilities in China aren’t all producing identical goods directly for the local market, and selling at a price without the trademark and patent markups, is the enclosure of decentralized production technology within a centralized corporate legal framework. And the only reason the production facilities making goods for people in Iowa are sited in China instead of in Iowa is that the labor there is cheaper.

(...)

Lean production guru James Womack observed that “oceans and lean production are not compatible.” Simply shifting inventories from giant warehouses of finished product or intermediate goods to warehouses disguised as trucks and container ships isn’t really reducing overall inventory stocks at all. It’s just sweeping the batch and-queue bloat of Sloanism under the rug. The outsourced component manufacturers “are located on the wrong side of the world from both their engineering operations and their customers… [in order] to reduce the cost per hour of labor.” To properly apply lean principles it is necessary “to locate both design and physical production in the appropriate place to serve the customer.”49

In his Foreword to Waddell’s and Bodek’s The Rebirth of American Industry (something of a bible for American devotees of the Toyota Production System), H. Thomas Johnson (an expert in lean accounting) writes:

Some people see lean as a pathway to restoring the large manufacturing giants the United States economy has been famous for in the past half century…. The cheap fossil fuel sources that have always supported such production operations cannot be taken for granted any longer. One proposal that has great merit is that of rebuilding our economy around smaller scale, locally-focused organizations that provide just as high a standard living [sic] as people now enjoy, but with far less energy and resource consumption. Helping to create the sustainable local living economy may be the most exciting frontier yet for architects of lean operations.

So except in a few cases like geographically situated mineral resources, microprocessor production, and the like that require long-distance shipping for genuine technical reasons, most of what goes on in the logistic chains Phillips loves so much is just waste production. And that’s a lot of waste production. To put it simply, Walmart’s and Amazon’s increasingly automated inventory systems and just-in-time global logistic chains achieve “efficiency” only in a relative sense. To borrow a phrase from Peter Drucker, they’re the most efficient way of doing a very inefficient thing that ought not to be done at all.

(...)

Capitalism is not in crisis because, as per the orthodox Marxist model, its productivity so great that it undermines capitalist relations of production. It is in crisis because it has chosen models of technological development and organizing production that are unproductive in terms of how efficiently they use inputs. Capitalism is a system founded on extensive growth — that is, on the addition of ever larger quantities of resource inputs, inputs which are artificially cheap and abundant because of the enclosure of land and natural resources. Now that we are in the age of Peak Oil, and approaching the age of Peak Coal, Peak Gas, and analogous limits to a wide range of other material inputs, capitalism is experiencing a crisis of extensive development.

Post-capitalist transition is not simply a matter of celebrating mass production factories and global logistic chains as the “colossal forces of production” Marx wrote of, and saying “Thank you, capitalists, but we’ll take over from here.” Those mass production factories and global logistic chains are the prime examples of the kinds of inefficiency created by a system that treated material inputs as artificially cheap and abundant and pursued growth by throwing more of them on the pile instead of using existing inputs more efficiently."

-Kevin Carson, “We Are All Degrowthers. We Are All Ecomodernists. Analysis of a Debate” (2019)