#Train Battery Industry

[techninja]

Train Battery Market Trends and Insights: A Comprehensive Analysis of the Industry's Growth and Future Prospects

The train battery market is a rapidly growing industry, driven by the increasing demand for efficient and sustainable energy solutions in the rail transportation sector. The market is expected to continue its upward trend, with a projected growth rate of 4.6% from 2023 to 2030, according to a recent report by Intent Market Research. This growth is attributed to several factors, including the expanding railway networks, the development of high-speed trains, and the increasing adoption of electric and hybrid trains.

Market Size and Growth

The global train battery market was valued at USD 277 million in 2023 and is projected to reach USD 378 million by 2030, growing at a compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 4.6% during the forecast period. The market is expected to witness significant growth, driven by the increasing demand for energy-efficient solutions in the rail sector.

Market Segmentation

The train battery market is segmented based on battery type, rolling stock type, application, and region. By battery type, the market is divided into lead-acid, nickel-cadmium, and lithium-ion batteries. Lead-acid batteries are the most widely used type, accounting for the largest market share. Nickel-cadmium batteries are used in emergency power applications, while lithium-ion batteries are used in advanced train applications.

By rolling stock type, the market is segmented into locomotives, metro, monorail, tram, freight wagons, and passenger coaches. The locomotive segment is expected to dominate the market, driven by the increasing demand for efficient and sustainable energy solutions in the rail sector.

Market Drivers

The train battery market is driven by several factors, including the expanding railway networks, the development of high-speed trains, and the increasing adoption of electric and hybrid trains. The growing demand for energy-efficient solutions in the rail sector is also driving the market growth.

Market Restraints

The train battery market faces several restraints, including the high capital costs associated with the development and implementation of advanced train battery technologies. Additionally, the market is also affected by the regulatory environment, which can impact the adoption of new technologies.

Market Opportunities

The train battery market presents several opportunities for growth, including the increasing demand for energy-efficient solutions in the rail sector, the development of high-speed trains, and the increasing adoption of electric and hybrid trains. The market also presents opportunities for the development of new battery technologies and the expansion of existing ones.

Competitive Landscape

The train battery market is highly competitive, with several major players operating in the market. The market is dominated by companies such as Hitachi Rail Limited, BorgWarner Akasol AG, and Toshiba Corporation. These companies are expanding their presence by acquiring other market participants and forming strategic alliances with other companies.

Future Prospects

The train battery market is expected to continue its upward trend, driven by the increasing demand for energy-efficient solutions in the rail sector. The market is expected to witness significant growth, driven by the increasing adoption of electric and hybrid trains, the development of high-speed trains, and the expanding railway networks.

Conclusion

The train battery market is a rapidly growing industry, driven by the increasing demand for efficient and sustainable energy solutions in the rail transportation sector. The market is expected to continue its upward trend, driven by the increasing adoption of electric and hybrid trains, the development of high-speed trains, and the expanding railway networks. The market presents several opportunities for growth, including the increasing demand for energy-efficient solutions in the rail sector and the development of new battery technologies.

[some-bunniii]

My Charming Red Savior [1]

・❥ You’re harassed by a man following you down the street. Luckily, a rather smiley demon swoops in and claims to be your husband.

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

x: no use of y/n. i said this was going to be short and I lied, it’s about 6k words.

warnings: mild swearing

Warning! Battery at 1%! Device will power down in 3..

You stared down at the phone in your hands as the message lit up on the screen. Eyes widening, you quickly tapped the screen, trying to bypass the pop-up and get another glimpse at the digital map you were using. 

2…

“Hold on now! Just let me see where I'm going, please!” You begged the small device, your grip tightening around it as you tried to figure out what direction you needed to go. 

1..

You peered around the small pop-up. Okay.. Pete Ave was that way, which meant you needed to take a right after the stoplight and go-

Device powering down! Have a nice day :) 

“Damnit!” You growled as the screen flashed once, and then faded to black. You squeezed your eyes shut, face lifted to the sky as you took a deep breath to center yourself.

“Move it, won’t ya?” A demon woman chastised as she hurried around you. Lowering your head, you realized you were standing in the middle of the sidewalk, your spot interrupting the flow of pedestrian traffic. Quickly, you backpedaled until your back hit a brick wall of a building. 

It was getting late in Pentagram City, and that meant you needed to hurry to get to your friend's place before the worst inhabitants of Hell came crawling out. 

She had just gotten married and moved into a rather quaint little home, and you were very happy for her. You had not seen it yet, just in pictures she had shown you on her phone and the one time you drove past it.

“Oh, pleaseeee won’t you come over tonight? I can’t wait to show you all the renovations we’ve done! It looks so much better since we bought it.” She had begged over the phone that afternoon. 

You had stood there, your nails clicking against the countertop in your kitchen as you thought. You had nothing important going on, just some light cleaning and shopping. What was the harm in going over there and visiting? 

“Okay, sure. Yeah, I can come over.” You finally spoke.

“Ahh! I’m so excited, we’ll have a big dinner and everything. I can even rent a movie for us to watch, what are you into again? Those sappy romance flicks?”

“Whatever you want to watch, it’s your milestone we’re celebrating. I’m not the one picking.” 

“Geez, you know how hard it is for me to decide things like that! But, i’ll do it. Oh! Before I forget, could you stop by the store on your way and get some Cajun seasoning? It’s for the meal!” 

“Of course. I’ll see you soon.” You had told her, before hanging up. Eyes moving to the clock, you realized you two hours before needing to arrive. Which meant you had to get moving on those dishes and errands. 

It didn’t take long before you were out the door. Wearing a nice outfit and new shoes, you strolled down the street. The digital map on your phone guiding you across the city as you moved.

Being so close to the city center, you didn’t have a personal vehicle. Instead, you took public transport all the way past the Entertainment District, your eyes gazing up at the rather tall VoxTek building as the bus sped by. 

You didn’t know much about the Vees, other than they were very powerful Overlords with a lot of influence in the media industry. In fact, you didn’t know much about Overlords at all. Were they nasty demons? They must be, if they bartered in souls.

But there had to be better ones, right? You knew of the cannibal, Rosie, and despite her, well.. dietary choices, she seemed to be a rather motherly and courteous demon. In such a way that the residents of Cannibal Town held very high regards for her, which proved her ability to lead in a just manner. She couldn’t be the only one with a more ethical moral code.

Your mind lingered on that train of thought, before you were pulled back into reality by the bus driver’s call for your stop. Quickly, you had hurried out of the vehicle, before continuing your directed path forward.

You arrived at the large storefront, a cozy cottage-like building that whispered of deliciousness as the scents of spices and other meal-making goods wafted through the open door. 

Taking a step inside, you quickly darted through the aisles, searching for the Cajun seasoning. What was your friend making tonight? You weren’t too familiar with these kinds of ingredients. Hopefully, it was going to be tasty.

When you found it, you turned it in your hands, inspecting the product. Yep, you’ve never seen this before in your life. 

After paying for the item, you quickly departed. Your next destination set on your phone.. but not for long.

Just a few more blocks, and you’d have been welcomed by the two love-birds with open arms. A nice, hot meal and a good movie to finish the night. 

Except, how were you supposed to get there now?!

Your phone was useless, and the digital displays around you showed nothing but advertisements and the latest news. 

Frantically, you looked around for any familiar landmarks, hoping to rely on your memory to guide you. But the streets of Pentagram City, with their twisting alleys and repetitive buildings, all looked eerily similar in the dimming red light of dusk.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you tried to recall the route from memory. Pete Avenue, right after the stoplight, then… was it a left or a right at the next intersection? You berated yourself for not doing a better job at memorizing the way before you left.

Turning, you raised a fist at the VoxTek HQ building, cursing them for your suffering. Stupid technology and their shitty battery life.

Slowly, you started walking again. Past the neon signs beckoning you to take a glance at what they had to offer, past the girls on the corner who were calling out to you to come have a ‘good time’.

Sometimes, you wished you had someone else to lend a hand at times like these. But, your heart and your home were unimaginably lonely when it came to a romantic partner. It was something that others around you couldn’t stop pestering you about.

“You really need to get out more,” another friend of yours had said one day, while you two dined at a cafe, “there’s this new dating app, called ‘Ozzie’s Love Link’. Everybody is buzzing about it. You should totally give it a whirl!” 

You had rolled your eyes at her suggestion, a dating app? Those things were practically a fraud. The demons on there either wanted sex, or their idea of a relationship was twisted and foul. You even had heard stories of people playing into sick traps of the perfect first meet, only to be murdered and left in an alley to rot.

“I want something real, not some.. temporary escape. Have you ever met anyone that’s actually found ‘The One’ through one of those things? And, who knows, maybe the demon of my dreams will just walk right into me one day.” 

She had laughed at your words, holding a hand to her mouth to contain her giggles.

“Oh, you. You’re still hanging on to those silly stories of a Prince Charming, hm? C’mon now, this is the real world. Nobody is going to swoop in and save you, and then fall hopelessly in love with you. That's a fairy tale. You need to put in the effort.”

You shrugged. Maybe, she was right. Maybe, those stories you had digested were just fairy tales, meant to enrapture you with promises of the perfect life. You were in Hell, after all.

‘She just doesn’t understand,’ you reminded yourself, ‘all her relationships have been toxic. She doesn’t know any better.’

You weren’t going to let her judgments get to you, you could live your life however you wanted, with whatever dreams you chose.

As you walked down the bustling streets, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. It was as if unseen eyes followed your every move, sending shivers down your spine. 

‘Stop freaking out,’ you told yourself, ‘it’s just your imagination, there’s people all around you. They have their own lives, they’re not watching you.’

Nearing the curb to an intersection, you glanced up at the street sign. Pete Avenue, finally. Now, think. Left? 

Looking left, you peer down the rows of strip clubs and bars. The crowds only got bigger from there, and there seemed to be no residential streets. You turned your head to the right, and it began to branch out into more domesticated buildings and neighborhoods. The farther your gaze traveled, the quieter the sidewalks became.

So, right it is. 

You turned the corner of the block and kept moving, your pace quickening as you checked a large digital clock on the side of a building. It was getting closer to the time you had promised to be there.

But, now where were you supposed to go? You turned your head, until your gaze landed on a small imp standing near an alley, a cigarette between his lips. 

Walking forward, you raised your hand up in greeting. “Excuse me, do you know where Magdalene Drive is, by any chance? I’ve just gotten a little turned around and would greatly appreciate some guidance.” 

The imp regarded you for a moment, his eyes squinted in thought. He pulled the cigarette from his lips, and exhaled a large breath. A plume of gray smoke vented from his lips, and he coughed harshly.

“Yeah, I do. You see that big statue over there?” He pointed to your left, the cigarette hanging between his fingers.

Turning your head, you leaned slightly backwards. Off in the distance, a large marble statue depicting an unknown owl demon practically glowed against the darker backdrop. It seemed to hold resemblance to an Ars Goetia family member, but you couldn’t put a finger on who. 

“Right when you pass it, take a left. Go two blocks straight, then take another left. One more block, and another right, and you’re on Magdalene Drive.” 

Jeez, that was a lot of directions thrown at you in one sitting. Not wanting to pester the man any further, you waved a thanks and walked away.

How far have you come, exactly? You turned your head behind you, looking down the sidewalk of where you had just come from. Something flickered in your peripheral vision, a dark figure skirting from your gaze. Was someone watching you? 

You shook your head. No, it’s just your imagination. Keep moving.

Slowly, you turned back and started walking. The sidewalks were practically empty now, the glow from the street lamps above you illuminating your path as you strolled up the large statue. 

Twisting your head to get a better look at it, your gaze skimmed across the royal figure. The owl-demon was staring up at the sky, one arm raised with what seemed to be a ball of energy in his grasp. Swirls of gold marble laced the pearly white sphere. He was holding up, like it was an offering to Heaven. 

Maybe, you’d come back later and take a look at the plaque below the statue. There had to be some significance, although you didn’t see yourself as a master of the fine-arts to te-

Crunch

What was that? That sounded like someone crushing a twig beneath their feet. You twisted to face behind you, and saw nothing once more. 

‘Alright, this is getting a little freaky.’

You weren’t going to stop now though, you didn’t want any potential onlookers seeing you stalking the perimeter like a weirdo simply because your paranoia was having you hallucinate things.

Keeping your pace, you took a sharp left on the corner and continued down. How many blocks did that guy say? Two, if you could recall correctly.

That’s how many blocks you traveled, before stopping in your tracks. Which way did he say to go? Right? Left? 

You rubbed your face with a hand, why did you suck so badly with directions?! If only you had charged your phone before you left, you wouldn’t be in this predicament. 

Turning your head, you tried to figure out which way could be the correct one. There was nothing, though. It didn’t remind you of anything you’d seen when you had driven past her house. 

“Hey, you lost?” A gravelly voice came from behind you. Eyes widened, you spun on your heel to face the stranger. He was tall, much taller than you. He sported scars running across his face, one eye half-lidded permanently from some kind of nasty wound. 

He sported a dark leather jacket, with a thin sweater underneath. His hoodie was up, masking most of his features like a shadow. His skin was a dark red, and his eyes were a pale yellow. He seemed to be a Succubus demon, being too large for an imp.

There was no kindness in his tone or in his smile. Your brain screamed danger, you needed to get away from him. Quickly, you shook your head, trying to give him a well-meaning smile. 

“No, i’m not! I’m just uhh- waiting for someone, they’ll be here soon anyway.” 

“People that aren’t lost usually don’t ask strangers on the street for directions,” he chuckled darkly, “why don’t you tell me where you’re trying to go? I can give you a lift.” 

As he closed in, you could smell the bitter taste of alcohol on his breath. You had to steel yourself not to recoil at his looming figure. Widening your smile, you attempted to not display any fear as he got closer.

“No, thank you. I would hate to bother you, my.. partner should be here soon, so you can continue on with your day!” 

“Don’t you know this place ain’t safe for sweet dolls like you to be roaming alone? C’mon, let me take you to where i’m parked, i’m sure you’ll enjoy my company.”

You quickly stepped backwards, trying to widen the distance from this creep. It wasn’t until your back hit the wall of an abandoned storefront, did you realize you were trapped. 

“I said no. I’m not some damsel in distress. Now, if you can excuse me, I need to keep going before it gets too late.” 

You turned away from him, trying to break any kind of contact with the demon. Maybe if you kept your cool, he’d abandon his little mission.

That was until you felt his hand snake around your wrist, his grip tightening and pulling you to face him. In your state of shock, you dropped the bag containing the Cajun seasoning. You tried to tug your wrist free, but his yellow nails were practically digging into your skin, preventing your escape.

“What’s the rush, Doll? Scared i’m gonna bite or something? Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna harm you. I just want to show you a good time.”

Your eyes narrowed, gaze heated at the stranger. You frowned, glimpsing at his hand on your wrist in disgust.

“What are you doing? I don’t want anything to do with you, now let go of m-!” 

“There you are, my dear!” A masculine voice exclaimed next to you. You felt the creep’s grip on your wrist loosen suddenly. His hand yanked away by another, and your gaze traced the light touch of unknown dark-red fingers gently taking your hand instead.

You snapped your head to the unfamiliar voice, taking in the sight of a second demon standing right besides you, a large grin on his face. He was tall, and he stood a little bit higher than the creep in front of you. His hair was styled in a cropped, angled bob, with an odd pinkish-red shade. Two small antlers protruded from the top of his head, and were those.. ears next to them too?

He was dressed rather formally, with a red pin-stripe coat adorned with a large black bow-tie. Over his right eye, you took note of the small oval-shaped monocle. He held a cane, with an odd looking end. The small oval in the center of it reminded you of an eye. He looked very dapper, like he was from a much older era. 

His gaze was soft, as he looked at you. It wasn’t until his eyes snapped to the stranger in front did they take on a cold, dark glare. That smile never faltered, though. 

Who was this guy? Why was he touching you? You felt the need to tear your hand from his grip as well.

Except, when he turned back to you, his eyes sent you a hidden message. Something like, ‘Go along with it, if you want to get rid of him.’

Seeing as you were stuck between two strange demons, with no idea what this new guy had in store for you, maybe it was a good idea to follow his silent command. Your hand went limp in his grip, and the deer demon raised it to his chest, patting it lovingly.

“Goodness, I leave for ten minutes to go pick up your favorite herbal tea and poof, gone! You are a slippery one, my sweet.” Static dripped from his voice, seemingly connected to the cane at his side. Was it some kind of microphone?

“Who are you?” The stalker questioned, backing up a step as he regarded the new face.

The red demon laughed, an audible ‘ha ha’, as if the creep just told a rather good joke. He extended his free hand in greeting, and the succubus only eyed the gesture with suspicion.

“The name is Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you, sir, quite a pleasure. It’s rare for people these days to not recognize my face, although i’m sure it’ll become familiar soon enough.” 

That ‘soon enough’ sounded quite ominous to you. And, was he some kind of celebrity or something? You didn’t remember him from anywhere. 

“Well, do you mind? Me and the lady were in the middle of a conversation.” The succubus retorted, a slight growl in his tone. 

“The better question is, do you mind, my good sir! Here I am, searching for my dear wife, only to see you bothering her on the corner!” 

Wait a second, did this guy just call you his wife? You stood there, shocked, as you listened to the two bicker. Never would you think you’d hear that uttered from a man. 

“Not only that, but touching her without her consent? My word, what degenerate behavior!” The demon, Alastor, continued. He shook his head in disapproval, an audible tsk-tsk coming from his lips.

“There was no harm in it, we were only having some fun. Ain’t that right, Doll?” The stalker turned to you, fire in his gaze as if daring you to speak.

You shook your head, your gaze snapping to Alastor. He watched you for a moment, before turning his attention back to the succubus.

“It seems your mother neglected to instill in you even a modicum of respect. If my wife weren’t here to witness, I'd be more than obligated to educate you on proper decorum.”

Something flickered in the creep’s eyes, and for a moment he looked almost afraid. After a moment, He sneered, eyeing you up and down. "I don't see a ring on her finger."

Alastor smirked, and gently lifted your hand forward for the demon to get a look at. His grin was that of triumph, as though he was showcasing a prized possession. 

Your eyes widened at the sight, a gasp almost escaping your lips. On your finger, was a small gold ring. It was snuggled nicely around your digit, a perfect fit. 

The Succubus leaned in, and so did you. Where the hell did that come from? That was not there a few minutes ago! 

On closer inspection, you noticed something about the small band. Engraved in a tiny rose-gold font, was a single letter.

A.

"There, now do you see?" Alastor's grin widened, his demeanor playful yet menacing. His eyes narrowed, as he waited for the demon's response. You felt the air crackle with some kind of energy, it was dark and cold. The hair on the back of your neck began to stand on its end, like static. Which one of the demons was doing that?

The stalker’s expression shifted from arrogance to confusion, then to frustration. He furrowed his brow, studying the ring intently as if searching for some kind of flaw.

Was he going to try and argue? The proof was there, albeit fabricated. Alastor dropped your hand, and instead snaked his arm around yours, locking you in place. 

There was no argument didn’t, instead, the succubus took another step back. The demon straightened himself and shrugged, like the scene before him was not a bother, like his filthy plan wasn’t thwarted by the appearance of the powerful deer man. 

“Whatever, I ain’t got time for this anyway. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Lovebirds.”

As the man turned away, Alastor’s grin widened as he nodded his head. “Farewell, and may your endeavors be as futile as your manners!”

He turned to you, that dark look gone from his eyes as he gently tugged at your arm, still laced with his. “Now, my dear, shall we continue on our evening stroll?” 

You nodded slowly, and together, the two of you turned away from the creep and began to walk. You had only made it a few steps before you heard the soft knocking of Alastor’s staff hitting the cement walkway. What was he doing?

Behind you, a strangled cry filled the silence, before a loud thump hit your ears. You jolted at the sound, did something just happen? It sounded like someone got hurt! 

Right as you were about to turn your head to look at where the noises had emanated from, Alastor’s head snapped to you and you felt another gentle tug on your arm to turn your attention back to him.

You looked up at him, a smile forming on your lips as your nerves settled. “Thank you, for saving me, kind sir. I could have been a goner.” 

“It was no trouble at all my dear, and please, call me Alastor. I was simply in the neighborhood and couldn’t just stand by and let that rapscallion manhandle you like that! Now, where are we off to, if I might ask?” 

“Oh, well, Magdalene Drive! It’s a house right at the end of a street, my friend's place actually. She’s expecting me for dinner, that’s why I have this bag of…”

You became suddenly aware of the empty feeling in your hand. Did you forget to pick up the seasoning after you dropped it?! You groaned internally, your head hung in defeat. After all that, you didn’t have the one item you had taken this route to get. 

Alastor raised an eyebrow at your reaction, and you quickly explained, “I needed to get Cajun seasoning for the meal they are making, but I dropped it when that.. man was harassing me! I’m terribly sorry, I have to go back and get it.” 

Alastor only smiled, as usual, and shook his head. He waved his hand in a sweeping motion, brushing off your attempt to turn around.

“Nonsense! We don’t need to bother that poor soul any longer. Here, let me give you one from my personal collection!” 

He lifted his free hand, and snapped his fingers. In a flicker of green light, a small spice jar landed in his palm. Your eyes widened, an amused smile gracing your lips as you watched the little trick. That was pretty cool. Was that the same kind of magic he used to secretly place the ring on your finger? 

“Here you are! The best Cajun seasoning you can find in Pentagram City, my personal favorite. I was going to use it for something special, but it seems you are in need of it more than I.”

He lifted his hand toward you, and you took it gratefully. Lifting it to your nose, you inhaled deeply. It was an odd scent, one you couldn’t quite place, but it smelled quite delicious.

“Not many dishes require such flavoring, what is the meal you are having tonight?”

You shrugged, “I'm not really sure, to be honest. She didn’t say.” 

“Hm, a pity. Have you ever tried Jambalaya? It is a rather magnificent dish, my personal favorite actually! My mother was quite the cook, indeed, and her craft would never miss when producing such delicacies.”

“No, I've never tried it before. What does it taste like?”

“It is hard to put a description on it. It’s almost like.. fireworkings popping off in your mouth! Ha ha, that is a good way to put it. You really must try it sometime.” 

You smiled at Alastor as you listened to his words. Perhaps, you would.

“What got you into this pickle, anyway? Surely you didn’t actually feel like taking a stroll so late in the evening, hm?” He questioned as the two of you continued your pace, “a pretty face like yours will cause quite the stir amongst the filthy rats that like to inhabit this place.”

“Oh, well, I was using my phone for directions. It died on the way here, unfortunately I'm not familiar with this area and couldn’t find my way forward.”

His words finally processed in your brain. Did he just call you pretty? You didn’t get to think about that for much longer as his static-laced voice filled the air once more.

“Ah, of course. This new.. modern technology is nothing short of a fraud, if I do say. What ever happened to the old fashioned paper map? If it were up to me, we wouldn’t be so reliant on such faulty equipment.”

“Is that what your staff is? It looks like a microphone.” You said, pointing to the cane in his other hand.

Alastor glanced down to his cane, and then back to you. “Aha, a clever one indeed! Yes, my dear, I use it for my radio broadcasts!”

You perked at that. Radio? You had one of your own at home. Although it was quite dusty, you did occasionally turn it on to see what latest hits were circling around in the music industry.

“You do radio? That’s actually kind of interesting! Do you have a big audience?”

“Yes, indeed! Back when I was at my highest with it, I had many listeners. Unfortunately, my absence from Pentagram City has led to other forms taking the spotlight. I plan on rectifying that once I've settled in. Perhaps, you could listen in as well to see what I have to offer?”

You nodded at that, perhaps, you would listen in. He had a nice, pleasant voice. It felt like you could sit there for hours and just listen to him speak. Even if the words that came from his mouth was nothing but gibberish, you’d still let his voice drown out your thoughts.

“What about you?” The static dripping from his voice causes you to turn your head, “what do you do for a living?” 

“Oh, well, I work at a men’s formalwear store. So, like tuxedos, dress shirts, and all that jazz. I help assist with fittings and greet guests, basically the doorgirl. Nothing too important.” 

His ears perked slightly as he listened, and he turned his head to you. “Well, isn’t that interesting! Just recently, I had an awfully rude encounter with another demon, who had torn a piece of my suit. That slippery little serpent got away before I could.. question him about his antics.” 

“That’s awful! Who was it?” 

Alastor chuckled, rolling his eyes as he recalled the event. “Oh, nobody of importance, I assure you. Just some pretentious upstart fancying himself as an Overlord, with a knack for building rather ghastly creations of destruction. Since that encounter, I've been in the market for a fresh look. If a place of formal employs such splendid characters like you, I think it would be in my best interest to take a look in your establishment for a new coat”

Your eyes widened, he wanted to buy a new suit at your work because.. you were there? How charming.

Taking another glance at him, you realized he was rather good-looking. His red hair popped out against his much paler skin, it shined against the streetlights above. It looked rather silky and smooth, like you could comb them with your fingers and not find a single knot. 

And those ears? They were pretty cute, actually. They stuck up from his head, and every so often they would twitch or shrivel in the direction of sudden noises. They seemed so soft too, would they feel as good as they looked if you were to squish them between your fingers?

He was a well-mannered gentleman, a pretty rare specimen in Hell. Not only that, but he stepped in to defend you from that creep when he could have simply walked by. He didn’t, and that made your cheeks heat up. Especially with the fact he called you his wife, instead of something simpler like ‘friend’.

What about when he called you pretty? Did he actually mean that? You never regarded yourself as such, but if Alastor thought that, maybe you cou-

“Is this the house?” Alastor’s words pulled you back into reality. You blinked, before looking up at the pale blue cottage snuggled nicely between two large Victorian homes. The talks you were having must have kept you from noticing the large distance.

“Yes! This is the place!” You exclaimed happily, finally, you were here. You turned to him, before looking down at your arm, still laced with his. Slowly, you pulled your arm free. The cold that replaced his touch was unwelcomed. Which felt odd to you, why did you want him touching you still? 

You had only just met him, but perhaps his way of speaking and heroics swooned you enough to miss the warmth of his grasp. Lifting your head to meet his gaze, you tried to see what he was thinking behind that constant smile. 

His eyes were unreadable, but the cold stare he had given the succubus, and to the other onlookers that you had occasionally passed was missing as he looked at you. There seemed to be a smile in his eyes, one that was meaningful and true.

“Well, I'm glad I could assist you in finding your way home, my dear. I quite enjoyed our chat, it is refreshing to hear from a new face once in a while. Especially one as eloquent as yours.”

You had to keep yourself from visibly blushing. He really was a gentleman in all regards. You bowed your head respectfully, before meeting his gaze again.

“The only reason why I'm here is because of you, Alastor. Thank you, and I do hope to run into you in the future. Our conversation was very interesting, I'd love to hear more of it sometime.”

He tilted his head at you, as he regarded your words. “Indeed, perhaps we will. Maybe, the next time we cross paths, I can give you a glimpse into my mothers recipe of Jambalaya. I’m sure your friend would be interested in trying something new the next time you sit down for dinner.”

You smiled at him, before waving goodbye. Turning towards the door you lightly rapped your knuckles against its wooden frame. It was then that you realized you never properly introduce yourself.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I never got to tell you, my name is-”

The words halted in your mouth, as you found the space in front of you empty. Alastor had vanished, not a single trace of his presence remained.

He was gone already? Damn, that guy moved quickly. Maybe, he was just a hallucination, a dream too good to be true. You stood there for a moment, before closing your mouth in thought.

Suddenly, the front door was flung open and a hand reached out and grasped your top. You turned your head just as you were yanked inside. Before you had time to blink, the door was slammed shut behind you. The window near it was shielded by curtains in seconds.

In front of you, your friend stood there. She was breathing heavily, a hand to her heart as if she just witnessed the scariest thing in her life. She quickly held your shoulders, scanning your body for any injuries.

“Oh my gosh! You’re lucky I pulled you in here quickly,” She exhaled a breath to calm her nerves, “You could have been that guy’s next meal!” 

“What are you talking about?” You asked, an eyebrow raised at her strange demeanor.

“Alastor! The Radio Demon! Y’know, the guy that murdered all those overlords years ago?” 

You raised an eyebrow as her words settled in your head. That demon was the Radio Demon? No way! He was such a gentleman, and rather pleasant too! 

“You’re kidding.” 

“I’m not! I don’t know what happened between the two of you, hopefully not a deal, but you need to stay away from him. He’s nothing but a bad omen!” 

You smiled, shaking your head at her antics. She was just being silly, Alastor saved you from potentially being kidnapped. You doubted he’d lay a finger on you in a harmful manner.

“Well, I brought that seasoning. Why don’t we go take a tour of the place, hm?” You said, pulling her away from the doorway and down the hall.

She nodded, her face lighting up instantly. “Yes, a great idea! I can’t wait to show you the kitchen, we replaced practically everything. The flooring is a beautiful marble tile and…“

She trailed off as her gaze shot to your hand, her eyes widening at the sight. Quickly, she grasped it, and pulled it closer to inspect it. You tensed, what was she doing?

“..what is that on your finger? I didn’t know you wore this kind of jewelry!” 

Following her gaze, you turned your hand slightly to see what she was so enthralled about, and your eyebrows raised in surprise at the sight.

Still perfectly snug on your finger, was that gold ring Alastor had magically placed on you. You assumed that it would have dissolved or vanished when he left, but that small A still glimmered in the overhead light.

“I’ll explain it over dinner.” You simply replied, pulling your hand out of her grip and beginning to walk further into the house. 

Your eyes kept landing on the golden band, though. Alastor not far from your mind as you listened to your friend fill you in on all the renovations. It was quite pretty, and it seemed to look great on you. For a moment, a rather odd thought crossed your mind, causing your cheeks to heat as you lamented over it. 

Would it be so bad if you just.. kept it on? 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

woah, first fic of Alastor! I thought he’d be the perfect guy for this scenario. i wrote the reader as sort of a hopeless romantic bc it’s the complete opposite of al and i thought it was funny

EDIT: Part 2 is coming!!

lmk what you think! :)

[stayconnecteed]

❪⠀🪐.⠀𓏔⠀i wanna be yours · masterlist⠀❫

☆ㅤif you like your coffee hot, let me be your coffee pot !!

synopsis: eight stories that take place at the 5-STAR café, known on campus as the best place to study for your exams. the owner, bangchan, recently finished his degree, and decided to turn the place into a shelter for students who are trying to get the best coffee as cheaply as possible. stay and discover the love stories that hid between the walls of the place, in which employees and customers are the protagonists.

content info: stories non-related one shots, there is no specific order, although i will post them in the classic skz order (first the older, the maknae as the last one). specified warnings on each chapter.

( hii, happy sunday!! ♡ )

01. ╱ HOT CHOCOLATE (bangchan).

Every time you tell someone that you don't like coffee, the reaction is total incomprehension, even indignation. But when your university classmates leave you standing at the café where your crush works, you decide to order a coffee to try to avoid looking bad and end up making a fool of yourself.

02. ╱ CAPPUCCINO (lee minho).

After a bad run you are forced to look for a second job, and you end up covering the first shift at the campus café. Every morning you find the same guy waiting for you to open, leaning on the wall, looking flawless, and it gets on your nerves. Until one day you see him leaving the dance academy where you teach, getting on the same bus as you.

03. ╱ FLAT-WHITE COFFEE (seo changbin).

The boy on the train you met the other day invited you on a date at his favorite cafe, and although he seemed like the perfect guy, he is turning out to be a disappointment. Luckily, the cute barista serving you has noticed, and is trying to make you have a good time, despite everything, which makes you think that you wish the date had been with him.

04. ╱ ICED AMERICANO (hwang hyunjin).

When arguments at home get too loud to ignore, you always end up grabbing your laptop to go study at the café next door, but it's not the first time you've run out of battery. Unfortunately, the tables with plugs are usually occupied, even the one next to you, where the annoying boy in your class who doesn't want to let you plug in the charger is sitting...

05. ╱ ICED CARAMEL LATTE (han jisung).

You have been working in the hostelry industry for a long time, and for a few months now at the 5STAR café, but recently your boss has changed everyone's schedule, and now the person who has the shift before you leaves you post-its stuck everywhere. It always makes you smile, until one day you decide to find out who it is.

06. ╱ MATCHA TEA (lee felix).

You haven't been in Korea for at least two years, but when you return to do a trip and show Seoul to your sister, you end up back on the campus with the excuse that you can't leave without your sister trying 5STAR's coffee. To your surprise, the freckled barista still remembers your order perfectly. It can no longer be a coincidence when your sister starts talking about him in your mother tongue and the boy seems to recognize the language.

07. ╱ ESPRESSO (kim seungmin).

With how much effort your grandmother had put into spending entire afternoons trying to teach you how to play chess, no one could have guessed that you would like it so much, or that you would be that good at it. And you had no idea that when you had accompanied your friend to the place where he works and moved that piece on the board, you were going to start a game of anonymous chess that you were more than willing to win.

08. ╱ FRAPPUCCINO (yang jeongin).

Whenever Changbin asks you for a favor, you end up regretting agreeing to help him. This time it is to be in charge of training the new barista hired, who seems to be seeing a coffee maker for the first time in his life. Even so, you take pity on him and try to teach him everything you know, even if that means listening to your colleagues' jokes and customers' comments, even discovering that maybe he didn't know so little.

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© stayconnecteed 2023

[whencyclopedia]

D-Day was 80 years ago today!

D-Day was the first day of Operation Overlord, the Allied attack on German-occupied Western Europe, which began on the beaches of Normandy, France, on 6 June 1944. Primarily US, British, and Canadian troops, with naval and air support, attacked five beaches, landing some 135,000 men in a day widely considered to have changed history.

Where to Attack?

Operation Overlord, which sought to attack occupied Europe starting with an amphibious landing in northwest France, Belgium, or the Netherlands, had been in the planning since January 1943 when Allied leaders agreed to the build-up of British and US troops in Britain. The Allies were unsure where exactly to land, but the requirements were simple: as short a sea crossing as possible and within range of Allied fighter cover. A third requirement was to have a major port nearby, which could be captured and used to land further troops and equipment. The best fit seemed to be Normandy with its flat beaches and port of Cherbourg.

The Atlantic Wall

The leader of Nazi Germany, Adolf Hitler (1889-1945), called his western line of defences the Atlantic Wall. It had gaps but presented an impressive string of fortifications along the coast from Spain to the Netherlands. Construction of gun batteries, bunker networks, and observation posts began as early as 1942.

Many of the German divisions were not crack troops but inexperienced soldiers, who were spending more time building defences than in vital military training. There was a woeful lack of materials for Hitler's dream of the Atlantic Wall, really something of a Swiss cheese, with some strong areas, but many holes. The German army was not provided with sufficient mines, explosives, concrete, or labourers to better protect the coastline. At least one-third of gun positions still had no casement protection. Many installations were not bomb-proof. Another serious weakness was naval and air support. The navy had a mere 4 destroyers available and 39 E-boats while the Luftwaffe's (German Air Force's) contribution was equally paltry with only 319 planes operating in the skies when the invasion took place (rising to 1,000) in the second week.

Neptune to Normandy

Preparation for Overlord occurred right through April and May of 1940 when the Royal Air Force (RAF) and United States Air Force (USAAF) relentlessly bombed communications and transportation systems in France as well as coastal defences, airfields, industrial targets, and military installations. In total, over 200,000 missions were conducted to weaken as much as possible the Nazi defences ready for the infantry troops about to be involved in the largest troop movement in history. The French Resistance also played their part in preparing the way by blowing up train lines and communication systems that would ensure the defenders could not effectively respond to the invasion.

The Allied fleet of 7,000 vessels of all kinds departed from English south-coast ports such as Falmouth, Plymouth, Poole, Portsmouth, Newhaven, and Harwich. In an operation code-named Neptune, the ships gathered off Portsmouth in a zone called 'Piccadilly Circus' after the busy London road junction, and then made their way to Normandy and the assault areas. At the same time, gliders and planes flew to the Cherbourg peninsula in the west and Ouistreham on the eastern edge of the planned landing. Paratroopers of the 82nd and 101st US Airborne Division attacked in the west to try and cut off Cherbourg. At the eastern extremity of the operation, paratroopers of the 6th British Airborne Division aimed to secure Pegasus Bridge over the Caen Canal. Other tasks of the paratrooper and glider units were to destroy bridges to impede the enemy, hold others necessary for the invasion to progress, destroy gun emplacements, secure the beach exits, and protect the invasion's flanks.

The Beaches

The amphibious attack was set for dawn on 5 June, daylight being a requirement for the necessary air and naval support. Bad weather led to a postponement of 24 hours. Shortly after midnight, the first waves of 23,000 British and American paratroopers landed in France. US paratroopers who dropped near Ste-Mère-Église ensured this was the first French town to be liberated. From 3.00 a.m., air and naval bombardment of the Normandy coast began, letting up just 15 minutes before the first infantry troops landed on the beaches at 6.30 a.m.

The beaches selected for the landings were divided into zones, each given a code name. US troops attacked two, the British army another two, and the Canadian force the fifth. These beaches and the troops assigned to them were (west to east):

Utah Beach��- 4th US Infantry Division, 7th US Corps (1st US Army commanded by Lieutenant General Omar N. Bradley)

Omaha Beach - 1st US Infantry Division, 5th US Corps (1st US Army)

Gold Beach - 50th British Infantry Division, 30th British Corps (2nd British Army commanded by Lieutenant-General Miles C. Dempsey)

Juno Beach - 3rd Canadian Infantry Division (2nd British Army)

Sword Beach - 3rd British Infantry Division, 1st British Corps (2nd British Army)

In addition, the 2nd US Rangers were to attack the well-defended Pointe du Hoc between Utah and Omaha (although it turned out the guns had never been installed there), while Royal Marine Commando units attacked targets on Gold, Juno, and Sword.

The RAF and USAAF continued to protect the invasion fleet and ensure any enemy ground-based counterattack faced air attack. As the Allies could put in the air 12,000 aircraft at this stage, the Luftwaffe's aerial fightback was pitifully inadequate. On D-Day alone, the Allied air forces flew 15,000 sorties compared to the Luftwaffe's 100. Not one single Allied aircraft was lost to enemy fire on D-Day.

Packing Normandy

By the end of D-Day, 135,000 men had been landed and relatively few casualties were sustained – some 5,000 men. There were some serious cock-ups, notably the hopeless dispersal of the paratroopers (only 4% of the US 101st Air Division were dropped at the intended target zone), but, if anything, this caused even more confusion amongst the German commanders on the ground as it seemed the Allies were attacking everywhere. The defenders, overcoming the initial handicap that many area commanders were at a strategy conference in Rennes, did eventually organise themselves into a counterattack, deploying their reserves and pulling in troops from other parts of France. This is when French resistance and aerial bombing became crucial, seriously hampering the German army's effort to reinforce the coastal areas of Normandy. The German field commanders wanted to withdraw, regroup and attack in force, but, on 11 June, Hitler ordered there be no retreat.

All of the original invasion beaches were linked as the Allies pushed inland. To aid thousands more troops following up the initial attack, two artificial floating harbours were built. Code-named Mulberries, these were located off Omaha and Gold beaches and were built from 200 prefabricated units. A storm hit on 20 June, destroying the Mulberry Harbour off Omaha, but the one at Gold was still serviceable, allowing some 11,000 tons of material to be landed every 24 hours. The other problem for the Allies was how to supply thousands of vehicles with the fuel they needed. The short-term solution, code-named Tombola, was to have tanker ships pump fuel to storage tanks on shore, using buoyed pipelines. The longer-term solution was code-named Pluto (Pipeline Under the Ocean), a pipeline under the Channel to Cherbourg through which fuel could be pumped. Cherbourg was taken on 27 June and was used to ship in more troops and supplies, although the defenders had sunk ships to block the harbour and these took some six weeks to fully clear.

Operation Neptune officially ended on 30 June. Around 850,000 men, 148,800 vehicles, and 570,000 tons of stores and equipment had been landed since D-Day. The next phase of Overlord was to push the occupiers out of Normandy. The defenders were not only having logistical problems but also command issues as Hitler replaced Rundstedt with Field Marshal Günther von Kluge (1882-1944) and formally warned Rommel not to be defeatist.

Aftermath: The Normandy Campaign

By early July, the Allies, having not got further south than around 20 miles (32 km) from the coast, were behind schedule. Poor weather was limiting the role of aircraft in the advance. The German forces were using the countryside well to slow the Allied advance – countless small fields enclosed with trees and hedgerows which limited visibility and made tanks vulnerable to ambush. Caen was staunchly defended and required Allied bombers to obliterate the city on 7 July. The German troops withdrew but still held one-half of the city. The Allies lost around 500 tanks trying to take Caen, vital to any push further south. The advance to Avranches was equally tortuous, and 40,000 men were lost in two weeks of heavy fighting. By the end of July, the Allies had taken Caen, Avranches, and the vital bridge at Pontaubault. From 1 August, Patton and the US Third Army were punching south at the western side of the offensive, and the Brittany ports of St. Malo, Brest, and Lorient were taken.

German forces counterattacked to try and retake Avranches, but Allied air power was decisive. Through August 1940, the Allies swept southwards to the Loire River from St. Nazaire to Orléans. On 15 August, a major landing took place on the southwest coast of France (French Riviera landings) and Marseille was captured on 28 August. In northern France, the Allies captured enough territory, ports, and airfields for a massive increase in material support. On 25 August, Paris was liberated. By mid-September, the Allied troops in the north and south of France had linked up and the campaign front expanded eastwards pushing on to the borders of Germany. There would be setbacks like Operation Market Garden of September and a brief fightback at the Battle of the Bulge in December 1944, but the direction of the war and ultimate Allied victory was now a question of not if but when.

[zvaigzdelasas]

China revealed this week it aims to spend more than a billion dollars to bolster manufacturing and domestic tech in a bid to remain globally competitive, while divulging little new support for the struggling real estate market.

Industrial support clearly ranked first on Beijing’s priority list for the year ahead, according to three major plans released this week as part of China’s annual parliamentary meetings.

One of those reports, from the Ministry of Finance, said the central government would allocate 10.4 billion yuan ($1.45 billion) “to rebuild industrial foundations and promote high-quality development of the manufacturing sector.”

While that’s down from the 13.3 billion yuan earmarked for the same category last year, the sector overall gained greater prominence. In 2023, plans to spend on industrial development came second to support for consumption.

“Unlike other economies that went through a wrenching adjustment in their housing market, China’s investment rate isn’t falling,” HSBC’s chief Asia economist Frederic Neumann and a team said in a report Friday. “Instead, [capital expenditure] is shifting towards infrastructure and, importantly, manufacturing.”[...]

Chinese authorities in 2020 intensified a crackdown on real estate developers’ high reliance on debt for growth. Property sales have since plunged while developers have run out of money to finish many projects, cutting into what was once about 25% of China’s GDP when including related sectors such as construction.[...]

Despite widespread attention on whether Beijing would bail out the property sector, real estate got no mention in the finance ministry’s spending plans, and limited attention in a ministry-level press conference about the economy during the parliamentary meetings. Instead, the housing minister was included in the lineup for a press conference about people’s livelihoods.

“Supporting the modernization of the industrial system” came first in the finance ministry’s report, followed by “supporting the implementation of the strategy of invigorating China through science and education.”

Within that second priority, the finance ministry said it would allocate 31.3 billion yuan for improving vocational education. Amid high youth unemployment, especially for university graduates, electric car company BYD and battery maker CATL are among those working with vocational schools to train staff for their expanding workforce.[...]

The report from the National Development and Reform Commission, the top economic planner, reiterated government plans to support some developers’ financing needs — under the eighth item on the priority list that called for preventing financial risks. The government work report presented by Premier Li Qiang gave real estate a similar level of prominence.

8 Mar 24

China will improve home sales in a "forceful" and "orderly" way, Minister of Housing and Urban-Rural Development Ni Hong said on Saturday (Mar 9), as weak demand in the country's beleaguered residential property market persists.[...]

Some developers should be allowed to go bankrupt or restructured according to legal and market-based rules, Ni said told a press conference on the sidelines of the annual meeting of parliament in Beijing.

Premier Li Qiang said this week that China will quicken the development of "a new model" for the troubled sector, focussing on building more affordable housing and meeting demand for homes.

But China will insist that "housing is for living in, not for speculation" when formulating a new development model for the sector, Ni said, reiterating an official line against property speculation.

9 Mar 24

[wizardshark]

had a chat with @digby-official about a theoretical book about a gameshow-- based on survivor, love island, and sex house-- where the ship loaded up with all the show's supplies and cast and crew gets into a storm and crashes on the island they were going to use. They're cut off from civilization and need to survive on this island that with a proper crew and safety equipment is a fun little romp, but without any of that stuff? These extreme elimination challenges become death traps.

There's a radio transceiver on a wooden platform in the middle of this lake. If we can get to that, we might be able to use it to call for help. Normally you reach the center of the lake after jumping through the American Ninja Warrior challenge and hit the radio and it records your time then someone comes to get you in a boat, but that boat isn't HERE, and we NEED that radio. Now this course is extremely dangerous and any injury you get could be fatal when we don't have a trained medical crew on staff.

The best/worst part? This is a reality show. All of these people were chosen not for their individual survivor skills, but because their personalities will clash and it will create DRAMA. They are barely able to work together under the least stressful of circumstances, and now they're unbelievably stressed and afraid.

The narrative twist is that the first half of the book is in third person, and the second half reveals that the third person was one of the camera men still recording when someone "turns towards me and says you have to have an opinion on this, right?". The camera crew has been rationing batteries and SD cards and a single laptop to record this probably-pulitzer-winning experience; they've even still been doing the reality show interviews. From then on, the story is specifically first person as the camera crew become a second group of characters helping out.

They were supposed to be on the island for 3 months of core photography. Now they're here with no food, half of a dead crew, and no one expecting them back for 3 months. But oh they're not back after 4? Clearly they had to do pickup shots. 5? 6? How long until the ravenous TV industry moves on and they're forgotten?

[probablyasocialecologist]

Yes, we need innovation to solve the ecological crisis. We need better solar panels, better insulation, better batteries, better recycling, better methods for producing steel, etc. But we do not need aggregate growth to get these things. If the objective is to achieve specific kinds of innovation, then target those directly rather than grow the whole economy indiscriminately and hope it will magically deliver the innovation we need. Is it really reasonable to grow the plastics industry, the beef industry, and the advertising industry in order to get more efficient trains? Does it really make sense to grow dirty things in order to get clean things? We must be smarter than that. Necessary innovations can be achieved directly – through public investment in innovation – while simultaneously scaling down less necessary forms of production. In fact, the former is enabled by the latter. Engineering talent that is presently organized around developing, say, advertising algorithms, can be remobilized instead to develop better renewables and transit systems.

Jason Hickel, On Technology and Degrowth

[seat-safety-switch]

Not everyone in my family is an an aggressive anti-capitalist. My folks, for instance, really wanted to be circus folks, and there's nothing quite so free-market as an enterprise that collected and entrapped particularly freakish children for the purposes of public display. I digress: this particular story is about my cousin, Ralph Safety-Switch.

He's a bit of a black swan of the family. Rather than basic proficiency in machines, mathematics, or manslaughter, he chose something somewhat more artistic: music. When I was in college, he was touring around the country with some kind of greaseball country band, which would later become famous for having dodged cannibals when their tour bus broke down. What was wrong with that tour bus, you (and I) ask? Dead battery. They could have push started it. I never let him live it down.

Anyway, after his exotic life of live performance, he settled into a somewhat more corporate role. Have you ever wondered where all those little jingles on commercials come from? Guys like him is where. Another thing he did was songs for toys: all the sorts of little plastic gewgaws that toddlers bash into each other with extreme violence play music, and that music has to get made somewhere. It's a very lucrative industry, and they pay their bills on time. Sometimes you get really lucky, though, and it's here that Ralph's ship truly came in.

Because of a unique cut-out in contract law, you have to negotiate the royalties for work up front. For whatever reason, the counterparty lawyer was snoozing and sent Ralph the wrong version of the contract. What this meant was that my cousin made small, but nonetheless real, royalties on each unit of the My Little Shitter® training potty that was sold in North America. He took me out on his yacht to celebrate. The yacht, friends, that a billion children pooping built.

[edutainer2022]

@janetm74, I did a little thing for this prompt:

"I'll come quietly. Just don't hurt them."

***

Scott didn't know about coding and cybersecurity nowhere nearly as much as John or Brains did (or Alan, for that matter), but he knew enough to understand John didn't know about these files. The folder miraculously slipped past Eos, John approved and Kayo vetted firewalls, and materialized on the desktop in his private study. He used it far less frequently than Dad's desk or even Dad's old office, but sometimes insomnia struck when his batteries were running low and going down to get some work done was too much effort.

That meant he couldn't really know how long the folder had been there, which made his insides run cold. What made his hands numb, to boot, were the latest photos in the unnamed folder - pictures of his brothers on the latest rescue. Up close and from a distance. The pictures were not scrambled by their tech. Another batch were from Alan’s recent school trip to Melbourne. From Virgil and Gordon's night on the town. Maybe most unnerving of all - from INSIDE Five and a training hangar on Gran Roca. 

Scott swallowed hard, though his throat went instantly dry, and clicked on the last file - a candid photo of himself in the Tracy Tower penthouse, tying a tie, smiling at a hologram off screen, likely talking to a brother before a day of meetings. The file was uncharacteristically heavy so, just as he suspected, there was a hidden attachment, riding on it. Several more files popped up. Realistically, he should have gotten Kayo and John on the case by then, middle of the night or not, but Scott was frozen in place by the sheer magnitude of morbid implications.

One of the files featured four DNA sequences, neatly labeled Virgil through Allie. Nothing more, nothing less. Scott's vision swam. The threat was as conspicuous as it was cruel - spanning anything from customized targeted neurotoxins or viruses, nanobots masked in a bloodstream, carrying explosives to heart or brain, to a smart bullet, programmed to follow the target DNA like a bloodhound.

Their family had access to almost unlimited research resources and brainpower to counter even something that sophisticated, but Scott wouldn't ever take a chance the assault on his brothers wouldn't have an instant lethal effect. Since his own DNA was not on the list of targets, Scott had a pretty good idea what could be in the next file. It wasn't a sum - of course it wouldn't be that easy. When was it ever! It wasn't even a list of Tracy Industries or IR tech they wanted specs for. It was an instruction he needed to follow on his way. The destination he'd receive upon confirmation of being... cooperative. Whoever they were - wanted him to show up in person.

The next file was a cloaked, heavily encrypted chatbot where Scott typed in his response. Kayo would have his head for going through with it, heavily backed up by John and Penelope, but he couldn't risk his... everything. The only life he would willingly ever give up was his own. He typed in a quick message.

The response, likely pregenerated and tracable, biped almost immediately. No sarcastic niceties or eery foreboding of the consequences of Scott sharing any details of this arrangement with anyone, least of all his family or the GDF. Just a geotag. Scott had to catch himself from slumping sideways on the edge of the desk, as his vision went black for a moment.

The next thing he did after getting his breathing under control and passably certain not to keel over in the middle of his bedroom, was a beeline to his walk-in closet, the palm print activated safe in the far nook of it. His fingers hovered briefly over the cold shape of the gun he kept there, but moved on. Weapons, comms and trackers would be the first things stripped off of him, before he'd be moved to a different location, no doubt. He reached for a secure, strictly offline tablet, stashed in the safe. It held his will - updated frequently to include the ever expanding assets and charities he personally oversaw, in his line of work and lifestyle he left little to chance. He wouldn't have his family go through the same legal hoops Dad's unforeseen demise put himself through. Joint guardianship documents for Alan and Gordon. Gordie was turning 20 in several months, but Allie was still firmly a minor in any jurisdiction, and Grandma wasn't getting any younger since they had to do it the first time around. The consensus, Scott knew nobody wanted to think about ever since the first draft of his will after IR went operational again, was to name Virgil as Alan’s next-in-line guardian. Virgil, his trusted SIC and deputy biggest brother  - Allie would be taken care of. They all would. Scott could see deep brown eyes darken with pain and betrayal in the shadows of the closet - Scott trusted Virgil with his life and with absolutely everything important in his life, but not with THIS. He couldn't.

The tablet also hosted security codes and off the books protocols for IR operations and the island. That was for John. Some of them Casey, Lord Hugh and Kyrano read him into, no other family members present, after the search for Dad had been called off. Some were on an encrypted thumb drive kept in an indefinitely rented deposit box in the bowels of a Swiss bank, with instructions from Dad to transfer to him exclusively or to destroy. The instructions were clearly devised to be put in action decades later than they were and it hurt like hell to touch that thought. Some of the directives not even John knew about by now. That was about to change, soon. If Scott knew his ginger brother, he could be sure at least Virgil or the Tinies would never know.

His whole being ached to make one last round of the villa and check up on his loved ones - he harbored no illusions of ever seeing them again. But he couldn't risk missing the window of John's sleep cycle and not slipping out at least somewhat undetected. Eos and Kayo's sensors would flag him leaving the island in a private jet, not One, but he knew enough to not raise alarm and cover his tracks with a bogus errand in Warsaw at one of TI recent acquisitions. That was as far as he could take the traceable jet. But with Brains' reinforced engines, hopefully, he'd touch down and be on his way, before his absence would be noticed around Gordon's morning swim. As late as breakfast on the island, if he were lucky and they thought he were working some issues out on a long run.

***

A ring of lights changed from default white to orange - something John had come to recognize as a perplexed frown. A hurricane he had been keeping tabs on shifted from yellow to red and the alert woke him up earlier than he estimated. But the hurricane wasn't the source of confusion for his protégé.

"What is it, Eos?"

"I'm detecting a discrepancy in Scott Tracy's schedule and itinerary. He hadn't been due at any of the Tracy Industries subsidiaries this week or the next."

It was John's turn to frown. Scott business meetings and engagements schedule was guarded with what John was sure his PA's life and strictly need to know with any on site security teams. Unbeknownst to Scott himself, since his recent loosing round with exhaustion, hypoglycemia and dehydration, about two thirds of the "matters that urgently required Mr. Tracy's attention", be it Tracy Industries or GDF, hell or high water, were rerouted through Five and screened first by John himself, then Virgil, Grandma or Kayo, depending on the occasion. An ad hoc meeting at a new, fairly minor, Eastern European subsidiary would certainly NEVER slip past the carefully erected firewall around their favorite overworked idiot. Yet the lit up line on the holomap clearly outlined the flight path of Tracy S - Scott's personal jet, almost as fast as Shadow, but rarely taken out for a spin these past years.

John moved to enhance the map and shuddered. He'd probably faint if he were not in zero G already - the destination dot flashed over an abandoned airfield in Poland, in the grey zone now, 5 miles of a forest track shy of the Bereznik border.

A red alert clackson blared over the still sleepy island...

TBC?

[rey2rey]

‎ STAR CUP ! . . . . ( 레예스 PROFILE )

TRACK 1 . SUNSHINE AIRPORT !! ( BASICS )

BIRTH NAME SON JAEHO ( 손재호 ) CHINESE NAME SUN JINHAI ( 孙金海 ) ENGLISH NAME REYES SON NICKNAMES REY & JJ ( everyone ) + LITTLE STAR ( his family ) + JIN / JINNIE ( kun & ten )

DATE OF BIRTH 13 OCTOBER 2001 AGE 22 ZODIAC SIGN LIBRA CHINESE ZODIAC SIGN SNAKE

NATIONALITY SPANISH ETHNICITY SOUTH KOREAN PLACE OF BIRTH OVIEDO, SPAIN RESIDENCY OVIEDO, SPAIN ( 2001 - 2008 ) + NANJING, CHINA ( 2008 - 2014 ) + SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA ( 2014 - present )

HEIGHT 177 CM ( 5'10'' ) WEIGHT N/A BLOOD TYPE AB PIERCINGS LOBE + HELIX + TRAGUS + UPPER LOBE + ROOK ( left ) + LOBE + HELIX + INDUSTRIAL + ROOK ( right ) TATTOOS N/A

FACE CLAIM KIM SUNWOO ( THE BOYZ ) VOCAL CLAIM LEE MINHO ( STRAY KIDS ) RAP CLAIM HANSOL VERNON CHWE ( SEVENTEEN ) DANCE CLAIM SUNG HANBIN ( ZEROBASEONE ) SPEAKING CLAIM SEOK MATTHEW ( ZEROBASEONE ) KNOWN LANGUAGES ENGLISH & SPANISH ( fluent ) + KOREAN & MANDARIN ( proficient ) + JAPANESE ( conversational )

GENDER CIS MALE SEXUAL ORIENTATION HOMOSEXUAL RELATIONSHIP STATUS IN A RELATIONSHIP ( est. 2024 )

TRACK 2 . DOLPHIN SHOALS !! ( CAREER )

STAGE NAME REYES

OCCUPATION IDOL + ACTOR YEARS ACTIVE 5 YEARS ( 2019 - present ) YEARS TRAINED 5 YEARS ( 2014 - 2019 ) LABEL YG ENTERTAINMENT ( trainee, former ) + SM ENTERTAINMENT ( current ) GROUP NCT UNIT WAYV + NCT U POSITION MAIN RAPPER LEAD DANCER MAKNAE DEBUT DATE 27 JANUARY 2019 ( group ) + 8 JULY 2024 ( solo )

REPRESENTATIVE EMOJIS 🦊  +   ⭐ INDIVIDUAL FANDOM NAME ROYOSHI (s) royals + yoshi ( his favorite mario character )

TRACK 3 . ELECTRODOME !! ( PERSONAL )

MBTI INTP-T

POSITIVE TRAITS friendly, dedicated, open-minded, hardworking NEGATIVE TRAITS naive, overthinking, perfectionist, anxious

HABITS using up his entire social battery quickly during his schedules, bouncing around + being unable to sit still for long, picking at the skin of his palm when he’s nervous, holding hands with the other members at the airport, going on long rants where he speaks too fast, switching up his languages so much to the point he confuses himself, cursing in every language he speaks HOBBIES watching k-dramas, playing games, sitting in the recording studio for hours, laying around when he has free time, trying to learn how to play different instruments

LIKES romantic dramas, thriller and horror movies, playing games, animal crossing, mario kart, marvel movies & comic books, collecting stuffed animals, playing with his cat, making too many playlists DISLIKES strong scents, airports, large or deep bodies of water, loud noises, long schedules

PHOBIAS thalassophobia ( fear of deep water ) + claustrophobia ( fear of small places )

find out more about reyes here ! layout credit : @kiiyunz <3 thank you to machi for helping me come up with a fandom name!

[reasonsforhope]

"California just cracked down on pollution from transportation in two major moves, part of an effort to improve air quality and cut carbon emissions at the same time. 

On Friday, the California Air Resources Board unanimously approved a rule that would ban the sale of diesel big rigs in the state by 2036. The mandate, which will apply to about 1.8 million trucks — including those operated by Amazon, UPS, and the U.S. Postal Service —  is reportedly the first in the world to require trucks to ditch internal combustion engines. The news came one day after California became the first state to adopt standards to limit pollution from trains. 

Trucks and Diesel

The regulations are intended to improve air quality and trim carbon emissions from transportation, the source of about half the state’s greenhouse gases. Trucks and trains spew diesel exhaust, full of soot that contains more than 40 cancer-causing substances, responsible for an estimated 70 percent of Californian’s cancer risk from air pollution. 

The trucking rule requires school buses and garbage trucks to be emissions-free within four years. By 2042, all trucks will be required to be “zero-emission,” meaning there’s no pollution coming out of their tailpipes. The deadline comes sooner for drayage trucks, which transport cargo from ports and railyards to warehouses — typically short routes that require less battery range. New drayage trucks must be “zero-emission” beginning next year, with the rule applying to all drayage trucks on the road in 2035. 

Currently, medium and heavy-duty vehicles account for a fifth of greenhouse gas emissions statewide. In August, California clamped down on pollution from passenger vehicles with a plan to end the sale of new gas-powered cars in the state by 2035.

People breathing pollution from freeways and warehouse hubs have long called for stricter air standards. In the port cities of Long Beach and Los Angeles, some 6,000 trucks pass through every day, exposing residents to high levels of ozone and particulate matter, pollutants linked with a range of problems including respiratory conditions and cardiovascular disease. Long Beach residents who live the closest to ports and freeways have a life expectancy about 14 years shorter compared to people who live further away...

Trains and Locomotives

According to the new rules, the state is banning locomotive engines that are more than 23 years old by 2030. It also bans trains from idling for more than 30 minutes, provided that they are equipped with an engine that can shut off automatically.

The stage for the rule was set by a single line buried in the Biden administration’s proposed auto emissions rules, in which the Environmental Protection Agency said it was considering allowing states to regulate locomotives. Still, California’s new rules may spark a legal battle with the rail industry, which argues that the state doesn’t have the authority to make such sweeping changes.

Though railroads only account for about 2 percent of the country’s carbon emissions from transportation, switching to trains powered by batteries or hydrogen fuel cells would provide some benefits in the effort to tackle climate change. The public health gains would be even bigger: The California Air Resources Board estimates its new rules for trains, passed on Thursday, would lower cancer risk in neighborhoods near rail yards by more than 90 percent.

“This is an absolutely transformative rule to clean our air and mitigate climate change,” Liane Randolph, the chair of the air quality board, said ahead of the vote on the trucking rules on Friday. “We all know there’s a lot of challenges, but those challenges aren’t going to be tackled unless we move forward … if not now, when?”"

-via The Grist, 4/28/23

[warningsine]

Coldplay has announced that they have reduced their touring carbon footprint by 59% compared with their previous world tour – via some creative methods that include kinetic dancefloors that allow dancing fans to generate electricity, recyclable LED wristbands and the band travelling by train.

On Monday the British band announced that they were “happy to report that direct CO2e emissions from the first two years of this tour are 59% less than our previous stadium tour (2016-17), on a show-by-show comparison”.

In 2021 the band first announced a 12-point plan to lower emissions while touring, two years after frontman Chris Martin vowed to never tour again unless it was done sustainably and with a “positive impact”.

The band’s pledge for the Music of the Spheres world tour, which began in 2022, was to reduce their carbon emissions from show production, freight, band and crew travel by “at least 50%”.

Two years later, the band say they have surpassed that figure – with the help of their fans.

“We’d like to thank everyone who’s come to a show and helped charge the show batteries on the power bikes and kinetic dancefloors,” they said in a statement on their website.

“Everyone who’s arrived by foot, bike, ride share or public transport; everyone who’s come with refillable water bottles or returned their LED wristband for recycling; and everyone who’s bought a ticket, which means you’ve already planted one of seven million trees so far.

“As a band, and as an industry, we’re a long way from where we need to be on this. But we’re grateful for everyone’s help so far, and we salute everyone who’s making efforts to push things in the right direction.”

Coldplay’s shows have featured kinectic dancefloors that generate electricity through the audience jumping up and down on customised tiles.

During the show fans are also encouraged to hop on power bikes, which, along with solar installations and the dancefloors, charge smaller stage areas during concerts, as well as phone, laptop and tool-charging stations for the crew.

Coldplay’s data was collated by sustainability business Hope Solutions and their claims verified by Massachusetts Institute of Technology. MIT Prof John E Fernandez praised the band for “leading by example … to move the entire music industry toward true and humane sustainability”.

“With each subsequent year of their tour … Coldplay is modelling a trajectory toward a low carbon, biodiverse and equitable future,” Fernandez said.

Last July, an interim report suggested the band had fallen just short of their aim, achieving a 47% reduction in carbon emissions. But the new figures released by the band suggests the tour has become more efficient as it goes on.

The band claims that “72% of all tour waste has been diverted from landfill and sent for reuse, recycling and composting”, up from 66% in 2023.

Eighteen shows were powered entirely by a tourable battery system, made from recycled BMW batteries.

Two solar-powered “ocean cleanup river interceptors” have also been paid for during the tour.

For every ticket sold – 7 million so far – a tree has been planted through the global reforestation nonprofit One Tree Planted.

Live touring is a carbon-intensive business, particularly for world tours where venues are often thousands of kilometres apart. Artists such as Taylor Swift have been criticised for excessive use of private jets for touring and personal use.

While Coldplay rely on air travel for most of their shows, Martin has pledged to take public transport to gigs where possible. He arrived for the band’s shows in Cardiff by train.

[sigmastolen]

i saw this again in my own stupid 'prompts' tag and have no one to blame but myself and my desire to procrastinate, so let's talk it out. alw's people would never allow this to happen but if one were actually going to do cats: the musical: the field show you would have to cut it down to a halftime-sized chunk, right. the usual scheme is fast-slow-fast but i think we would want a fast-slow-fast-slow plan so we could include more songs (inevitably with cuts oh well) and finish with 'memory.' so:

0. if there is any opportunity for march-around or get-on-the-field music the mallets and probable synth in the battery could do some overture. if not,

1. start with 'jellicle songs' because it's first and it's a banger. let it begin with most of the field still, band facing away, instrumental solos at a mic on the sideline & colorguard solos scattered around the field to mirror them (i'm picturing one flag at a time popping up and swooping back down). maybe the last chart for this song is the eyes logo or sth

2. 'macavity' next bc it's also a banger, show off your two jazziest trumpets or saxophones, let the colorguard do some shimmying or whatever

3. honestly i'm torn about whether this should be 'skimbleshanks the railway cat' or 'magical mister mistoffelees' -- tbh i'm learning toward 'skimble.' it would be a true ensemble piece, i can imagine a really quite good bandestration with sparkly woodwind section highlights, you can impress the judges with your 3+3+3+2+2, it never lags, frankly it's just more of a bop. you could do a lot of cute shit on the field with the train motif, maybe if the band parents are super handy and industrious you could even get the guard set up with some ludicrous build-a-train props

4. and you close with 'memory,' ballad building into sweeping horns, at some point you do a full moon sort of shape on the field and perhaps a sunrise. i can imagine two possible endings: for a loud version, everyone plants and blasts starting from "touch me," some trumpet jumps the octave or three to scream out the last note of "a new day has begun," we interpolate the last phrase of the ball music and finish with that oscillating second, upward scale, and double stinger in the sousaphones. OR: a quiet ending as 'memory' proper, and instead of fading out "has begun," interpolate the slow 'invitation' theme like misto blowing out the spotlight. some dancer in the colorguard has a slow solo for these last 16 or whatever counts.

0*. alw wrote all kinds of transition music in this show; if necessary, you can throw some of it into the battery so you don't have to smash cut from 'jellicle songs' to 'macavity' or whatever. if there is march-off music then the battery plays more 'skimbleshanks' into 'magical mister mistoffelees,' like the bows. duh.

you're truly not trying to tell the story with this show, we're going for pure spectacle, but i think it would win competitions lmao

[omegasmileyface]

one of the things im being trained on at work is doing the #unboxing. like. so they prescribe and also market hearing aids right. and its super sad and demoralizing if you think about it because its an industry absolutely drenched in capitalism and profit-prioritizing and theyre sold in cardboard boxes in vinyl sheaths with full-color photo diagrams like theyre bluetooth headphones and not quality-of-life-saving medical assists [though, many modern hearing aids actually do connect to bluetooth! so thats fun!]. and also theyre $800 per aid at minimum not counting molds and batteries/charger which are also expensive and medicaid will only cover one hearing aid, not two. BUT!!! if you DONT think about it its actually so fun

like, the shipments come in and you have a pile of packige and you open it and you note the shipping label and you update all the patient information and you scan all the info sheets (and you white out the invoice prices so that if a patient requests their files they cant see that they were upsold on hearing aids) and then you open up the hearing aid box and youuu assemble it. and the receiver is a sleek little banana of metal, and you twist a little red or blue piece of plastic into it to indicate which ear it's for, and you attach the uhh wire i forgot what its called. and the transmitter and however it stays in the ear (domes like on earbuds or acrylic ear molds) and finally a little plastic tail to keep it from moving. and then you box it back up and label it so the audiologists can hand them off to their patients already assembled. its like assembling a microbot or a model car or something. and then you do that however many times it takes to get through the day's shipment and its like being a professional lego artist but if the legos were essential for mental and social health and you were selling them for on average $1200 each

[cowboyhorsegirl]

Love in Midair

stevetony, non-powered summer before college au, 1k

fill for the @stevetonygames bingo square "Seasons" and challenge "Resolutions" for Team Past :)

(read on ao3)

Summer days make for sun-soaked purgatory, hellish in all but name. The weather oppresses, enough that even Tony’s constantly racing mind relents to the sluggishness of the heat. The wait weighs heavy on his shoulders, heavier still with each second that acquiesces to the inevitability of fall. The empty house rings silence save for the incessant drip, drip, drip of his bathroom faucet from dawn to dusk, then from dusk to dawn, again, again, again. 

Sometimes, in an indulgent act of self-pity or perhaps just typical teenage boredom, Tony calls his mom’s name out just to hear the unanswered echo respond back to him, to break the monotony of a leaky pipe.

They had invited him—his father, and his mother by default—they had invited him to Europe this summer to attend the unending battery of business conferences that would be taking the Starks from Paris to Zurich, Zurich to Milan, Milan to Berlin, Berlin to Madrid, Madrid to London, and from London back to Paris. The networking opportunities alone would give him a leg up for school in the fall, for internships next summer, for job opportunities after graduation, for corporate mergers scheduled twenty years from now, or so his father had said. But hell has a name, and that name is printed on the seal at the top of a college admission letter, signed by both the university president and the dean of the school of business. Idleness burns him from the inside out, but still Tony would rather spend his final summer alone in an empty house with a leaky faucet than begin the lifelong descent through the circles even a second too soon.

Daytime holds his sweaty body and his exhausted mind prisoner to the heat, so Tony bides his time until night to work on his inventions. In the cool respite, he weaves together a mimicry of human learning from lines of computer code. A real companion made from artificial intelligence, yes, but more importantly a reminder that before he becomes anything else—business school graduate, Stark Industries’ future CEO, unhappy—he was an engineer, and the insistent itch of creation buzzed with potential underneath the palms of his hands, once.

The temperature climbs higher, the seconds tick by, and the house slowly fills with the robotic fruits of his nighttime labor.

The faucet drips on.

One morning, Tony finds himself blinking away the haze of a machining binge to see the first signs of dawn glowing outside his window. The illumination of heaven without the burn of hell, a delicate and transient occurrence at this time of year, during which Tony is usually asleep. He stands and follows a wordless summons to go to the window, to open the boundary between himself and the world.

A bird chirps. A breeze lifts. The smell of sweet summer blooms scents the fresh air. 

And down the street, a paperboy follows his route.

Tony watches him ride closer with eyes trained to inspect, dismantle, and reform component parts. The boy has blond hair. The boy seems to be about his age. The boy has a thin frame; the weight of the newspapers in his satchel upsets his balance on the bike, and he wobbles dangerously every time he throws a paper towards someone's front door before setting himself to rights again through what seems to be sheer force of will. 

He rides closer. Tony sees:

Worn canvas on the strap of his satchel. There are patches painstakingly sewn on in multiple places.

A missing tooth on the chain of his bike. Someone should fix that. Tony could fix that.

A crooked smile. A happy life.

Blue eyes.

Oh.

The boy looks back at him from where he’s stopped in the street, one foot on the ground, still smiling.

Tony can’t help it; he smiles back.

His mind begins racing, racing, racing. He wonders what it would be like to run downstairs, open the door, offer to fix this boy’s bike. 

Wonders what it would be like to ride home with him, wherever home is. Wonders at a day spent together, a night spent together, a morning brought to wakefulness by the presence of disheveled blond hair, a crooked smile, blue eyes.

He thinks of laughter, of pet names, of take-out dinner dates.

He imagines a modest one-bedroom too cozy to ever feel empty, with impeccable plumbing and a workshop in the garage. It’s no Ivy League, but there would be ivy creeping up the brick on the side of the house where they keep the garbage cans, triumphant in the face of all their half-hearted attempts at weeding, and wouldn’t that be so lovely in its own simple way?

He sees years worth of yet unlived memories and trembles with the bone-deep knowing: it would all be so terribly beautiful, this lifelong descent into love.

The boy lifts his arm and waves. 

Tony can’t help it; he waves back. He smiles harder.

But the moment breaks when the boy drops his hand and pushes his foot off the ground. Tony’s heart sinks as he bikes out of view. Suddenly, the heat is unbearable, the house insufferably empty amongst the clutter, every drip of water from the bathroom faucet intolerable. Daylight is here, and Tony is faintly dizzy with the need to seek solace away from his inescapable life for a few hours in the impermanent oblivion of sleep.

He sinks miserably onto the bed, drags a pillow over his head in a futile attempt to block out the sound of his life dripping down the drain one drop at a time, already halfway to unconsciousness.

Only for his eyes to fly open a mere moment after closing, a smile already curling on his lips. Downstairs, another knock sounds resolutely against the door.