#heavy vehicle tracking system

[tektronixtechnology]

[tinydreamerphilosopher]

Tektronix technologies Vehicle GPS trackers are not only accurate and effective but also tamperproof and shockproof. This means they can stand tough, off-road driving and are immune to tampering. Tektronix technologies  GPS trackers use the latest IoT technology along with artificial intelligence to work and assist the drivers and the transport managers in their day to day routine.

vehicle tracking sytsem 

vehicle tracking system abu dhabi 

Vehicle Tracking solution in abu dhabi 

gps in abu dhabi 

fleet management solutions in uae 

fleet management systems in uae 

fleet management systems in sharjah 

fleet management system in uae 

iot fleet management system 

fleet tracking system , fleet tracking system uae , fleet tracking system abu dhabi , fleet tracking system in sharjah 

[furiousstarfishphilosopher]

Heavy Vehicle Camera In Dubai , Heavy Vehicle Camera In Abu Dhabi ,  Heavy Vehicle Camera In Sharjah  , vehicle tracking system in abu dhabi ,vehicle tracking solutions in bur dubai, heavy vehicle tracking solutions in abu dhabi 

[theresattrpgforthat]

The computer game Pacific Drive has the player driving a supernatural station wagon and delving ever deeper into an abandoned exclusion zone in the Olympic Peninsula of Washington, dodging anomalies, scavenging for resources, exploring, and seeking answers to what events caused the creation of the zone. The game takes heavy inspiration from the art of Simon Stålenhag, which has its on TTRPG in "Tales from the Loop", but can you recommend any other games that would recreate the experience of Pacific Drive?

THEME: Pacific Drive

Hello friend, so I looked up Pacific Drive and one thing that I found out about it was that it was inspired by media such as Annihilation and Roadside Picnic, so first I’m going to send you to my Fucked Up Settings Rec post, especially to the games titled Trespasser and The Zone.

What I’m getting from Pacific Drive is that it’s focused on travel, exploration, an interesting story, the ability to improve the one thing that you survive with, and experiencing a world that fundamentally doesn’t care about you. So let’s see if we have anything that hits any of those tangents.

The Last Caravan, by Ted Bushman.

In this cozy, melancholy post-apocalypse, the aliens came less than a year ago. The war lasted two months, but nobody won. Now, with an alien army rising from the ashes of war, you will have to make a dangerous journey across a shattered North America in search of a new home.

You are normal people finding heroism in extraordinary circumstances. You will explore transformed landscapes, search abandoned towns, discover otherworldly technology, negotiate with newly-formed factions, outrun alien pursuers, and — and all you’ve got is a car, your fellow travelers, and the road.

The Last Caravan combines the survival-horror genre with the fiction-first ethos of Blades in the Dark and No Dice No Masters. Each character has a list of prompts called triggers that reward you with a narrative resource that can open up abilities as you tell your story. The alien apocalypse has come, but the story isn’t over, as a some kind of threat shows signs of growing as you travel across a cold, frozen highway. If you’re interested in The Last Caravan, but missed the Kickstarter, you can check out the Quickstart while you wait for the final release.

24XX-D: Aftertime, by xiombarg.

As a volunteer for the  private paramilitary group Project Aftertime, your health was altered and your brain preserved so you could be revived after society collapsed. 

You awoke in an unfamiliar base filled with unfamiliar technology, with even stranger ultratech outside. 

The Event the wastelanders describe makes no sense. "The gods left us."

I feel like I’m missing something when I look through my folders because the 24XX system feels perfect for these kinds of ‘exclusion zone” games but Aftertime feels the closest to it, and it’s definitely not perfect. There’s too many people milling about, and there seems to be too much pointing towards some kind of answer about the alien event. However, I think in general, 24XX is a great system to root around in if you want to make something for yourself. A lot of these kinds of games have great roll-tables for events, locations, and missions, and inventory (which seems really important in Pacific Drive) is simple to track but absolutely necessary.

Aftertime is different from other 24XX games in that it uses a pool of resources rather than dice rolls to determine what you can or cannot do. You could stick with that, or mash this game together with some other 24XX games like PREDATORS to incorporate dice rolls, and vehicles. What I like about Aftertime is that it includes a base that you can upgrade over time, similar to how your car in Pacific Drive gets better as you find upgrades for it.

Crush Depth Apparition, by amandalee.

February 1902, somewhere on the North Atlantic. Mountainous waves blot out the horizon, and the wind and thunder roar too loud to tell one from the other. But 200 ft down there’s only still cold darkness and the submarine.  

No one has ever dived this deep before, so far from shore and safety. Maybe no one was ever meant to try. The submarine is 170 feet of dripping pipes and fogged up dials, levers rusting stuck in the damp. It was two weeks into the voyage when things started going wrong.  Little accidents, inexplicable mistakes. Someone heard a noise, like tapping, soft against the hull last night. Bright paint flakes off a torpedo and underneath there is a story scratched into the metal. The Captain turns down a hallway that can’t be there,  into pipes and steel and miles of ocean.

The one thing keeping you safe down here has turned into a labyrinth. 

Crush Depth Apparition is an eerie survival horror stand alone adventure zine for 3-5 players and a GM by Amanda Lee Franck. It  includes rules for running and repairing a state of the art (of 120 years ago) experimental submarine, a map of the ocean, an unnatural labyrinth,  ghostly encounters,  hundreds of things that can go wrong, and a crew that depends on you.

Because you are depending on your submarine for survival, much of the focus of this adventure is going to be on keeping it running. You’ll need to manage your fuel levels, the submarine’s battery, and how deep you go, all while trying to find a way home. The setting is very different from Pacific Drive, and I think the horror amps up a little bit because there are more personal details that will likely worm themselves into this game. You’re also less likely to survive the entirety of this game; but the weirdness that happens the further that you adventure may mirror some of the strangeness of Pacific Drive.

ZONE, by Iron Cutler.

ZONE is a genre-agnostic TTRPG , heavily inspired by Jeff VanderMeer's Southern Reach Trilogy, though adaptable to a wide variety of settings. It is about trespassing in a bizarre and dangerous area—the Zone—and becoming changed by what you find inside.

ZONE is a GM-less ttrpg that uses collaborative worldbuilding to design and deepen the strangeness of the world around you. Each session will contain an expedition of Trespassers, people who enter the Zone without permission, and thus destined to be permanently changed. Your Trespassers will not usually survive from one expedition to the next; this place will change them, and that is why ZONE is described as “un-winnable” by its designer.

Unlike many of the other games on this list, ZONE is very abstract because it doesn’t expect you to succeed. Your characters are destined to fail once they incur too much shock, so managing resources is not really something worth doing in this game. Character creation is also rather simple, and I think that is because the main focus of this game is on the place you are exploring, rather than the character themself. If you want a game about the horror of being changed by something alien and ultimately uncaring about you, I’d recommend ZONE.

RAD, by ¡Hipólita!

We don't know who broke the world, but we know what weapon they used.

In the year 1990, the United States of America fired a nuclear attack on the Soviet Union, immediately killing millions and poisoning the land, air and water for years.

The scarce few survivors were forced into hiding. About 50,000 people fled to the relative safety of the Moscow Metro, with smaller numbers following suit in cities like Novosibirsk, Volgograd, Saint Petersburg, Yekaterinburg, Samara and others.

RAD is a game full of radiation-induced body-horror and all about survival. You have four core stats, and the rest of your character sheet is all about resources and inventory, including three resources called Bedroll, Rations and Battery. The game mechanics are inspired by systems like Mausritter, which means that player creativity and smart item use will take you far. It’s all about a delicate balance of resources, so if that’s what you liked about Pacific Drive, you might want to check out RAD - as well as an adventure for it titled The Technicolor Forest.

Other Games I've Recommended Before

Nibiru, by Araukana Media.

Apocalypse Roadtrip, by Mynar Lenahan.

Roadspire, by Glempy.

[apocalypseornaw]

He does get jealous

You had resigned yourself to the fact that Dean simply didn't get jealous, that is until Garth being Garth hosts a get together for hunters and you run into one of your exes that you're still on good terms with.

Warnings: um cursing, mentions of sexual themes

So first and foremost you knew Dean loved you. There was not a sliver of a doubt in your mind to that man's devotion to you. You knew for a fact that he'd choose you over any other woman. Did that stop you from getting jealous? No.

No matter how hard you tried that little voice in your head would pop up rather it be on cases where witnesses would flirt a little too much or even just grabbing a bite to eat on the road where the waitress would let her eyes linger a little too hard on him.

Dean would always notice it of course. On cases he'd grab your arm to "pull you away and discuss the matter at hand" which normally consisted of a quick kiss and promises of what was to come later. Off of a hunt he'd have no qualms about pulling you into his lap in the middle of a diner to prove that he was taken no matter your blushing or Sam's groans of embarrassment.

The problem was he never got jealous. Ok yeah sometimes jealousy is a major red flag that you need to heed and run far away as fast as you can but a part of you started to wonder if maybe he just didn't register to be jealous over you?

You woke up and reached for Dean smiling to yourself when his hands met yours halfway pulling you into his arms. "Morning sweetheart" he mumbled, voice still heavy with sleep.

You placed a kiss to his chest "Good morning. Don't forget we have to leave here around ten to make it to Garth's in time" you couldn't help but laugh lightly when he groaned "Why are we doing this again?"

You pulled away from him just enough to lean up slightly to look at his face. A steady sprinkling of stubble covered his jawline and although his eyes were closed you knew he was tracking your every movement "Because hunters are always going to exist and its our job to make sure the next poor saps that get yanked into this life have a better system. C'mon baby Jody, Donna and all the girls will be there. Eileen is meeting us there, Kenzie is coming with Alicia and Max. It'll be fun. A weekend with people in the life just getting to catch our breath and catch up with people we haven't seen in a while"

When his response was a simple "mhh" you raised an eyebrow before adding "Bobby would be proud of it" he opened one eye to look at you but his gaze immediately went to where the sheet had slipped down off your chest leaving your breasts peeking out "If you weren't so damn gorgeous and right about this I may argue about going" a smile slipped onto your face "I love you too Dean"

He glanced over his shoulder at the clock on the nightstand and you could practically see the wheels turning in his head "It's seven thirty" you nodded slowly "Yeah" he reached out to gently grab your chin "We don't have to leave until ten?" You nodded again, eyes never leaving his. "So we have time"

"For what?" You asked innocently enough despite knowing exactly where his mind was. One of his hands dipped underneath the sheet and you gasped when you felt his fingers tracing patterns on your inner thigh "We have time for me to show my girl how much I love her" you pretended to consider it until his fingers went higher demanding your full attention when the first digit slipped through your folds "Fuck Dean" you whispered before a grin split his face "Exactly my idea"

"A lot more people showed up then Garth figured would" you leaned up at Sam's words because you knew him well enough to recognize a laugh being buried. What was so funny?

You looked at the cars parked around and about. There was Jody's suv, Donna's truck and the twins' car. There were more vehicles you recognized but weren't quite as familiar with. You were about to question Sam when you followed his line of vision and spotted Sawyer's bronco parked next to Eileen's car.

Sawyer was one of your exes. A hunter as well and someone you'd still consider a friend. You hadn't seen him in a few years but you felt a bit of excitement at getting to catch up. "Oh I didn't know Saw would be here" you spoke with a grin as Dean pulled baby to a stop. You leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek "C'mon. Let's go socialize"

----------

Dean had recognized that damn bronco the moment he turned into the clearing reserved for parking next to the cabins. Sawyer Monroe. A pretty decent hunter if he had to be honest and the only guy you'd ever dated before him that you wouldn't knock out on sight.

Thinking about it he wasn't sure you'd ever mentioned exactly why you and Sawyer had split. Hell you'd known him and Sam for years meaning he knew how you'd once felt about Sawyer. You'd even talked to Bobby about the guy.

Seeing the grin on your face when you spotted his bronco made something pull in Dean's chest. He wasn't jealous, no you were with him. You were a woman that knew what you wanted and wouldn't accept anything else. Yet trailing behind you towards the crowd that was gathered around and about he couldn't help but keep his eyes out for your ex.

There were tents around and about, a few grills going and a set up with speakers and a dance floor area. It looked almost like a wedding set up with the cabins being avaliable for anyone who needed overnights. Or a reunion of sorts.

"Kenzie!" You spotted her, Alicia and Max so you headed that way feeling Dean's hand resting at your lower back while you made your way through the crowd. Sam had already split off with Eileen and Donna so it was up to you to get the elder Winchester to actually enjoy the gathering.

She turned at the sound of your voice "Y/N!" She pulled you into a hug shooting a wink at Dean "Heya Winchester. I see you've actually managed to keep this one. I'm impressed. If you hadn't acted when you did I would've asked her out" "Very funny" he laughed watching as you went from Kenzie to Alicia to Max hugging all three of them.

----------

"So how have you been?" Alicia asked glancing towards where Max and Dean had headed in search of drinks. "Good. Dean's amazing of course. I don't think I've ever loved someone like I love him"

Before she could respond you heard a voice behind you say "Oh ouch. That hurt" you'd know that voice anywhere. You spun around to see Sawyer standing not even a foot away. "Hello to you too Mr Monroe!"

He stopped right before he got to you "A hug ok?" You nodded and he scooped you up into a hug. Sawyer was around Dean's height with chestnut brown hair that curled at a certain length and hazel blue eyes.

He was a sweet guy and one of the few you'd dated and stayed on good terms with. It'd been one those situations where you both knew the relationship had hit its end. When he put you back down on the dirt you laughed "I see you're still a fucking giant oaf" he shrugged one shoulder "Why change now Darling? Now where's this fella who you love more than anyone cause I wanna know where I'm ranked in the book of Y/N"

You felt an arm slip around your waist and laughed as you leaned back against Dean's chest "Sawyer I'm sure you remember Dean. Dean you remember Sawyer" the two greeted each other with a quick handshake "One of Bobby's boys" Sawyer commented and Dean nodded "Yeah. We met a time or two while you and Y/N were dating"

Sawyer cut his eyes at you "Well she was just telling Alicia how much she loves you so I'm glad to see she's happy" "We both are" you glanced back at Dean but he simply smiled at you "Anyways..what's on the schedule for this thing? Garth was pretty vague"

---------

Ok so maybe a small nip of jealousy hit Dean when he looked over to see you in Sawyer's embrace. It was a simple hug, that was all. Just as you'd hugged everyone else. Did it bother him seeing Sawyer hold you? Yeah. But it was just the fact that he wasn't sure if Sawyer knew you two were together. He didn't want him to get the wrong idea about the hug. That was all it was.

When he walked up behind you and slipped an arm around your waist he felt his heart flip a bit when you leaned into his embrace and did a quick reintroduction between the two men.

When you steered the conversation towards Garth's plans he stayed quiet keeping an arm around you and watching how Sawyer looked at you as you cracked jokes with Alicia and Kenzie. No, he wasn't jealous at all.

You were enjoying yourself. The banter and familiarity of so many hunters in one place was something nearly intoxicating. Most of your lives were lived in solitude. Hunting was a lonely life and being able to wind down with friends, people you considered family also that actually understood that? It was a beautiful thing.

Dean was talking to Garth, Sam and a few other hunters while you mingled with Donna, Jody and the girls. "I see Sawyer is here" Jody teased with a laugh. "Yeah we saw each other already" you replied.

"Who's Sawyer?" Claire asked and before you could open your mouth Jody explained "Y/N's ex before Dean. Her only real serious ex before him"

Claire's eyes widened "Ohhhh I bet Dean is jealous as hell" you scoffed with a roll of your eyes "Dean Winchester? Jealous? I've been with him this long and have yet to see it" Donna and Jody exchanged a look "We didn't just step into relationship issues did we?"

You shook your head "No. Me and Dean are happy, really. It just seems like at times he's incapable of getting jealous so I feel like a crazy woman when it perks it's little slimey head up in me" "I bet he gets jealous and just hides it" Alex offered but you shook your head then shrugged "Next subject? Something that isn't my relationship insecurities?"

Chatting and catching up had given way to a spread of food being laid out, a damn near open bar setting up and music playing through the speakers sat around and about.

You were sitting next to Dean laughing at Claire who'd nearly dropped Kaia when she attempted to dip her. "Think you can do it better?" Claire teased so you cut your eyes at Dean who shrugged one shoulder "Go for it sweetheart"

You glanced, spotting Max near the bar so you whistled "Banes?" When he glanced up you motioned towards the girls "Wanna teach these young ones how it's done?" He raised an eyebrow as he walked towards you and Dean "Am I leading or are you?" "Claire thinks I can't dip someone" a broad grin split his face "Oh its on then Novak"

----------

Dean watched as you spun Max around the dance floor. Several people had stopped to watch probably just from the height difference between the two of you. This was something you and Max had long since perfected, you both would take turns leading. When it came time for you to dip Max despite the height difference you successfully dipped him, spun him out then the two of you switched leads.

This was why he hadn't really gotten too upset when you'd spoken with Sawyer early. He knew you were his, you were happy with him. He had no reason to get jealous, right?

He heard Donna call his name and was quickly pulled into a conversation with her, Isaiah and Jody. "So how's things going?" Donna asked glancing back towards the dance floor. Jody smirked at him "Ya know Garth already has this set up..would be perfect for a ceremony of any sorts" he knew she was teasing but he also knew he'd be lying to himself if he hadn't already thought about a future between the two of you. He loved you and for some reason unknown to him you loved him too. "Yeah it would be" he replied causing a laugh to slip out of Isaiah at the look on the two women's faces.

Somewhere along the line you'd lost Max to David who cited he wanted his boyfriend back. You pulled Kenzie onto the dance floor next laughing when she insisted on leading.

You spotted Sawyer at the edge of the crowd, nursing a beer. You spun around with Kenzie a few times until Alicia cut in and you were left partnerless.

"On the off chance I may have a Winchester gunning for me, care to dance?" You turned to look up at Sawyer and shrugged. Dean never got jealous, so chances were Saw would be safe. "Well cmon then Monroe. Let's see if you've lost any steps"

He hesitated before touching your waist so you grabbed his hands with a light laugh placing them where both Max and Kenzie had touched you. "See? No harm, no foul" the two of you started to dance and you found yourself humming along with the song. It was one Dean played a lot.

"So you and Dean...can't say I'm surprised" you raised your eyes to look at him "Why is that?" He shrugged moving your arm that was resting on his shoulder slightly "He always seemed smitten with you. No other hunter compared to you, he was always talking about ya even when we were together"

"So what was that about calling him one of Bobby's boys?" You asked with a grin "Could I really say oh yeah of course I know Dean Winchester. One of the best hunters that's ever walked. The one man who I knew the first moment I saw you around him that we'd never last in the long run" "oh come on now Saw. We were good together for a while. We just got to a point.." you trailed off and he leaned down just enough to be eye level with you "That we both knew we'd be better as friends?" You nodded "Yeah cause if we'd dragged it out we would've ended up hating each other"

He smiled "I have no hard feelings love. You're happy with him. That's all I've ever wanted for you. Plus I'm seeing someone, her names Genya. She lives in New Orleans. I think you'd like her. We been together about six months now"

"Why didn't she come?" You asked and he smiled "Her coven had a ceremony she was presiding over" you could feel how wide your smile was at that news "She's a witch? Oh I love her already" he laughed loudly, the sound echoing around the two of you "C'mon now Y/N, you've got Dean. You can't have my girl too"

The sound of Sawyer's laughter hit Dean's ears over the music and conversations around him. When he followed the sound with his eyes he felt a flame flickering to life in his chest.

Sawyer's hands on your waist, your hands on his shoulders. Your faces close, laughter falling from him and a broad smile lightening your features.

"What the hell?" He meant to think it, not to let any anger slip into his voice or posture but it was clear to anyone who knew him and considering he was still fairly close physically to both Jody and Donna needless to say those two knew him pretty damn well. No, not quite anger. He'd felt that plenty in his life and this wasn't it. No this was jealousy, no other word could come close to the reasoning behind the flush to his skin or the torrent of thoughts running through his mind.

----------

One minute you were swaying to the music with Sawyer and the next you felt two hands on your waist pulling you away from Saw and causing you to collide with a broad chest.

Your hands flew out to brace yourself and the moment they collided with the body under them your eyes flew up to meet the green eyes staring down at you. When had Dean stripped out of his flannel? Why was he glaring at Sawyer over your head and when had this t-shirt gotten so tight across him?

"Baby, everything ok?" The thought occurred to you that maybe something was wrong but the look in his eyes didn't scream something was up, no he was jealous. No. Dean didn't get jealous, or did he?

"Dean?" Sawyer tried and you could see the muscles clenching in Dean's jaw as his hands gripped your waist firmly. "I need to talk to Y/N for a minute..that good with you?" Sawyer cut his eyes at you and you almost missed the slight twitch upwards his lips did before he said "Of course" before saying "Good night darling. It was good seeing you. I'm leaving bright and early but I'll ring ya once I hit Louisiana"

You could feel the heat radiating off Dean when you turned to give Sawyer a hug "Don't be a stranger and drive safe" the moment you released Sawyer Dean was leading you off the dance floor with a hand on your lower back.

"So what's the problem?" You asked once the two of you had cleared the crowd. Some of the cabins were already taken but there was enough for everyone. You saw the impala so you started to walk towards it, hearing Dean huff slightly behind you.

You made it to the impala and turned to face Dean. "Baby, do you remember your words?" He was silent but moved closer to you, he laid a hand on either side of your shoulders his palms flattening on the roof of the car and effectively trapping you between it and his own body.

"What's wrong with me?" He asked finally, leaning down close enough you could smell the scent of his cologne mingling with the whiskey he'd drank. You nodded slowly knowing he could smell the same brand of whiskey on your own breath from shared kiss and you stealing his drink earlier in the night. "Yeah, you pulled me off the dance floor and lead me out here into the dark. Now what are you planning to do to me Winchester?"

He scoffed, a smirk slipping onto his face "You get jealous if a waitress calls me handsome or if a witness asks to be interviewed by me yet you're asking what's wrong and what I plan to do?" You could feel your heart flip and heat rush into your lower stomach at his words. Oh, he was jealous

"Is it because I was dancing with Sawyer?" He didn't respond,instead he stepped even closer moving his lips to your neck to barely let them brush over the sensitive skin there.

"Is it because another man had their hands on me?" You asked when his hands went from the roof to your hips pulling you close enough the heat from his body had every inch of you feeling like it was on fire "Can we pick a cabin, head in and talk?" He finally spoke before connecting his lips to your neck sucking the skin right over your pulse, no doubt leaving a mark it his wake but you could've cared less considering it took every ounce of self control you had to not let out the moan trying to escape your lips.

You knew you were pushing it but also wanted to relish in the moment of finally catching Dean jealous. "Or do you only get jealous when you know it's someone who's had me under them? Someone who knows what I taste like?" You swallowed hard before leaning up to place a kiss to Dean's neck, feeling his pulse under your lips.

"Someone who knows what I sound like?" You whispered into his ear and couldn't help but feel your heart skip when his demeanor changed. You could feel the hard steel of the impala under your back when he pushed you backwards just slightly but considering he'd also chosen that moment to kiss you like a drowning man coming up for air you lost any sort of sense or control you'd had.

He moved from your lips to your jaw then down your neck. He went from kissing to biting the areas he knew would make you go weak. "I would rather do this in a cabin but you know I hold nothing against fucking you in baby" you let out a breathy moan when he hit a certain spot "Wait...stop for a second"

You knew that's all you needed to say. He froze in his tracks but for a split second you saw the uncertainty in his eyes. That small flash of self loathing that you always found buried under any sort of jealous streak. You'd never noticed it before on him. "Tell me why you're acting like this"

He took a deep breath letting his fingers slip under your shirt to tease at the waist of your jeans slightly. He wasn't trying to unsnap them or even reach under them, more so it seemed like he was trying to remind himself you were in his arms. "Sawyer knows you. He's a decent guy, you were happy with him. He knows what you look like under these jeans that I love on you, he knows what it feels like for your nails to cut into his shoulders when you're hitting that peak.." he groaned letting his head fall over onto your shoulder "I'm not some jealous, controlling asshole but I'll be damned if that didn't do something to me"

"You're jealous?" You whispered and he finally raised his eyes to meet yours again. "Yes sweetheart I'm jealous as hell. Rather you see it or not I get jealous a lot. Now please for the love of everything can I either climb into the impala with you or find a cabin and remind myself I'm the only one who gets to touch you, taste you, feel you. I just need to feel you clinging onto me, moaning my damn name and maybe just maybe I can fuck you good enough you won't get jealous as often either. I love you more than I ever knew possible but right now? I want to fuck you until neither of us can even remember another man or woman's name"

You swallowed hard at his confession, feeling your body react to the promise in his words. "In that case let's find a cabin"

@globetrotter28

[probablygoodrpgideas]

Narrative Permission

People can do a lot of different things and RPGs are usually not concerned with making up rules for every single possible action anyone could take.

There are some actions that are neither so common that it can be reasonably assumed that anyone can do them nor are they something that the game system concerns itself with.

Languages and artistic skills are pretty common examples that less complex systems usually don't bother with. In cases like this, your background could give you the narrative permission to use these skills.

For example, if your Scoundrel character in Thirsty Sword Lesbians is a musician you have the narrative permission to play a song to impress the Baroness while other characters might not. Functionally, you are still just rolling +Heart for an Entice move, but you can flavour it differently.

Another type of narrative permission can be found in Call of Cthulhu.

While your skills are obviously mostly there so you can roll skillchecks, they can also grant various kinds of narrative permissions.

For example, while regular driving explicitly doesn't require a skill check, you're (usually) still going to require narrative permission through skill investment to drive anything that isn't a car. For example, if you want to drive around in some kind of construction vehicle like an excavator, you're gonna need a couple of skill points in heavy machenery, even if you don't need to roll to drive it (again, assuming regular driving. If you're in a desperate fight against a dark young and try to hit it with an excavator despite not having any experience controlling one, go ahead and roll for it)

High levels in skills can also give you narrative permission to know a guy. An average investigator probably isn't going to know any professors of physics but if you have a high education stat, you might know someone.

Equipment in CoC is also mostly done through narrative permission. While you might name some important items explicitly during character creation, most possesions in the game are handled by asking "Would it be reasonable for someone like this to have this?"

Does the 1920s student own a truck capable of transporting a bunch of crates full of evidence? Probably not. Does the 1930s smuggler? Of course.

In ICON, there are many cases where narrative permission plays an interesting role.

Obviously they only matter for narrative play because in tactical combat, what you can and can't do is pretty strictly defined. However, your abilities in tactical combat can influence your narrative permissions.

A spellblade with various teleport abilities has narrative permission to teleport. Depending on the GM, this may increase effect or decrease risk on some Traverse checks, or it might even remove the need for them entirely.

But this can only get you so far. If you didn't put any points in Smash, no amount of arguing about being a Collossus who can do all kinds of cool Smash-adjacent things in combat is going to make it so you have more than 0 Smash in narrative. You need to select your narrative skills in a way that supports the fantasy of your character, including their tactical combat fantasy.

Also there is your narrative gear, which isn't supposed to represent every single piece of equipment your character posses, just the stuff that really matters, and which broadly falls into two categories: Things that are listed there so you don't have to argue about whether you have it (e.g. light sources, rations, a tent) and things that are supposed to inspire you (e.g. single-use flash bomb, copious sweets)

Both exist to grant you narrative permissions, but the first category is more about making sure you have narrative permissions you probably would have had anyway in a system without gear tracking (such as previous editions of ICON), the second category can actually expand your narrative permissions or give you new ideas for things to do.

Without your gear explicitly mentioning you have these things you might have never even gotten the idea of using a flash bomb to escape the guards, or use sweets to calm down a child. But even if you had gotten the idea on your own, explicitly calling out that you have these things can save a lot of time on trying to convince your GM that you have them.

However, the flipside to this is that having a gear system like this makes the gaps stand out more. I keep bringing up not having to convince your GM that you have something, but if there is something that you feel like you should have but that isn't listed in your gear, the existence of the gear system might make it harder to convince them that you should have it.

The system is an interesting middle ground between gearing systems that make you track everything you have (e.g. dnd 5e) and one that barely makes you track anything (e.g. CoC)

Are there any intersting examples of narrative permission you know?

[mariacallous]

With the Olympic torch extinguished in Paris, all eyes are turning to Los Angeles for the 2028 Olympics.

The host city has promised that the next Summer Games will be “car-free.”

For people who know Los Angeles, this seems overly optimistic. The car remains king in LA, despite growing public transit options.

When LA hosted the Games in 1932, it had an extensive public transportation system, with buses and an extensive network of electric streetcars. Today, the trolleys are long gone; riders say city buses don’t come on schedule, and bus stops are dirty. What happened?

This question fascinates me because I am a business professor who studies why society abandons and then sometimes returns to certain technologies, such as vinyl records, landline phones, and metal coins. The demise of electric streetcars in Los Angeles and attempts to bring them back today vividly demonstrate the costs and challenges of such revivals.

Riding the Red and Yellow Cars

Transportation is a critical priority in any city, but especially so in Los Angeles, which has been a sprawling metropolis from the start.

In the early 1900s, railroad magnate Henry Huntington, who owned vast tracts of land around LA, started subdividing his holdings into small plots and building homes. In order to attract buyers, he also built a trolley system that whisked residents from outlying areas to jobs and shopping downtown.

By the 1930s, Los Angeles had a vibrant public transportation network, with over 1,000 miles of electric streetcar routes, operated by two companies: Pacific Electric Railway, with its “Red Cars,” and Los Angeles Railway, with its “Yellow Cars.”

The system wasn’t perfect by any means. Many people felt that streetcars were inconvenient and also unhealthy when they were jammed with riders. Moreover, streetcars were slow because they had to share the road with automobiles. As auto usage climbed and roads became congested, travel times increased.

Nonetheless, many Angelenos rode the streetcars—especially during World War II, when gasoline was rationed and automobile plants shifted to producing military vehicles.

Demise of Public Transit

The end of the war marked the end of the line for streetcars. The war effort had transformed oil, tire, and car companies into behemoths, and these industries needed new buyers for goods from the massive factories they had built for military production. Civilians and returning soldiers were tired of rationing and war privations, and they wanted to spend money on goods such as cars.

After years of heavy usage during the war, Los Angeles’ streetcar system needed an expensive capital upgrade. But in the mid-1940s, most of the system was sold to a company called National City Lines, which was partly owned by the carmaker General Motors, the oil companies Standard Oil of California and Phillips Petroleum, and the Firestone tire company.

These powerful forces had no incentive to maintain or improve the old electric streetcar system. National City ripped up tracks and replaced the streetcars with buses that were built by General Motors, used Firestone tires, and ran on gasoline.

There is a long-running academic debate over whether self-serving corporate interests purposely killed LA’s streetcar system. Some researchers argue that the system would have died on its own, like many other streetcar networks around the world.

The controversy even spilled over into pop culture in the 1988 movie Who Framed Roger Rabbit, which came down firmly on the conspiracy side.

What’s undisputed is that, starting in the mid-1940s, powerful social forces transformed Los Angeles so that commuters had only two choices: drive or take a public bus. As a result, LA became so choked with traffic that it often took hours to cross the city.

In 1990, the Los Angeles Times reported that people were putting refrigerators, desks, and televisions in their cars to cope with getting stuck in horrendous traffic. A swath of movies, from Falling Down to Clueless to La La Land, have featured the next-level challenge of driving in LA.

Traffic was also a concern when LA hosted the 1984 Summer Games, but the Games went off smoothly. Organizers convinced over 1 million people to ride buses, and they got many trucks to drive during off-peak hours. The 2028 games, however, will have roughly 50 percent more athletes competing, which means thousands more coaches, family, friends, and spectators. So simply dusting off plans from 40 years ago won’t work.

Olympic Transportation Plans

Today, Los Angeles is slowly rebuilding a more robust public transportation system. In addition to buses, it now has four light-rail lines—the new name for electric streetcars—and two subways. Many follow the same routes that electric trolleys once traveled. Rebuilding this network is costing the public billions, since the old system was completely dismantled.

Three key improvements are planned for the Olympics. First, LA’s airport terminals will be connected to the rail system. Second, the Los Angeles organizing committee is planning heavily on using buses to move people. It will do this by reassigning some lanes away from cars and making them available for 3,000 more buses, which will be borrowed from other locales.

Finally, there are plans to permanently increase bicycle lanes around the city. However, one major initiative, a bike path along the Los Angeles River, is still under an environmental review that may not be completed by 2028.

Car-Free for 17 Days

I expect that organizers will pull off a car-free Olympics, simply by making driving and parking conditions so awful during the Games that people are forced to take public transportation to sports venues around the city. After the Games end, however, most of LA is likely to quickly revert to its car-centric ways.

As Casey Wasserman, chair of the LA 2028 organizing committee, recently put it: “The unique thing about Olympic Games is for 17 days you can fix a lot of problems when you can set the rules—for traffic, for fans, for commerce—than you do on a normal day in Los Angeles.”

[fictionalafvsmybeloved]

the tank from fallout 4 (in the future could you enable media in asks? i plan to sling some very obscure vehicles your way.)

Alright, Sorry this one took me so long to get to (and media should be enabled, just don't spam too many pictures)

Now, bear witness to the monstrosity that is the Fallout 4 tank!

In the vast wasteland of post-nuclear Boston you can find many remnants of the Pre-War military, and this is one of the two types of armored vehicles you'll come across.

So this is based on the aesthetics of many late WWII-early Cold War American tanks and prototypes, with no clear inspiration taken from any one vehicle (that I know of)

So, let's start with the quad-tracks why don't we?

They're bad, really bad. Not only do they lack any drive sprockets, but the road wheels are to close together and they aren't even in-line with each other. This just increases the width of the tank with out any sort of benefit. This thing also weighs sixty tons, so even with the nuclear power-pack (also a bad idea) it's probably not going anywhere fast (and forget about soft terrain).

Now I don't know much about the armor on this, other that it's riveted armor, which fell out of use during WWII. Riveted armor isn't good, repeated hits (even sustained heavy machine-gun fire) can loosen the rivets and cause them to fall out or go ricocheting through the tank.

And things aren't any better in the turret. It has a pair of 140mm guns (I'll go into detail on why double-guns and quad-track are bad ideas in another post) and rail-mounts for machine-guns on the commander and loader's hatches, but no co-ax MG. This leaves gaps in the tank's defenses and give it a cramped turret. The turret can't even rotate 360 degrees, it's blocked by all the greebles on the engine deck.

I can't see a single sight or periscope on this ugly thing, not even in the commander's cupola. It might be totally blind.

There are at least two crew members, a commander and a gunner. There might be more but I have no idea where they would sit, hopefully not in the turret, there's barely any space inside it left.

Now about those greebles... There are to many, and most of them don't do any thing or actively inhibit the tank. That big thing hanging off the left side of the engine deck is a system of heat sinks for the nuclear power pack. It does at least have plenty of miscellaneous hatches in some useful places.

A nuclear power-pack is a very bad idea. Almost any damage too it will cause it to start leaking radiation or meltdown.

FINAL SCORES

Credibility: 3/10 - Dahir Insaat Animation

Coolness: 3/10 - WarThunder Sad Eyes Tank

BONUS: I'll have to add the bonus later when Nexus mods is back up

[cuppajj]

The SG/DJD from your sentient sg/ll universe did what?👀

OK SO

My interpretation of the Shattered Glass DJD is that they’re a humanitarian group who search for missing or captured Decepticons to rescue. They would’ve started out as a team who brought defectors and Autobots to justice (morally), hence their name, but they eventually expanded their operation into becoming a rescue squad. I also like to think they do Girl Scout things like hand out cookies but that’s besides the point 😆

Personalitywise I imagine Tarn is a bold, noble, sometimes excitable leader not unlike Thunderclash, Kaon is sweet but incredibly shy, Vos is a little clumsy but means well, Helex is a skittish gentle giant, and Tesarus is the joke cracker. The Pet exists too, but they call him Dominus; he had originally been an Autobot sleeper agent before attempting to defect to the Decepticons, getting caught, and being domesticated as punishment. The DJD would take him in and begin finding a way to fix him. The DJD are less business associates and more of a found family. (Also their alt modes aren't torture devices anymore: Helex is a heavy vehicle, Tesarus is a cannon, and Kaon is an electrical generator.)

Like in the normal comic, the business they have with the LL isn’t with the one that we follow, but its quantum duplicate caused by the initial engine explosion. Overlord (peachlord but he wouldn’t have been peach yet), who had gone missing since the Elba incursion, would be their highest priority for search and rescue, being the most powerful Decepticon warrior and a close friend of Tarn’s. After their business on Clemency, Kaon would have picked up a distress signal coming from somewhere in deep space. As they approach that sector, they also pick up on Overlord’s life signal in the same region the first one came from.

Long story short, tracking the two signals leads them to the duplicate Lost Light. The distress signal and Overlord’s signal both originated here, which worries them; but nevertheless they enter the ship, and are greeted with a horrifying sight. Dead bodies are strewn about, some tangled up in cords while others have torn limbs. The vast majority, however, look as if they simply dropped dead, with no visible wounds on them. Vos would run an analysis on the bodies and deduce that they had ingested some kind of lethal substance—gas, most likely—that forced their systems into a permanent shutdown. From what he can tell, these bodies are recently deceased; shortly before, during, or after the time period in which the distress signal was received.

Little do they know that they’re already being watched. The Lost Light is well aware of who they are, and they are also aware of why they’re here. They don’t take kindly to intruders disturbing the peace of their crew, so they intend to trap the DJD in the same place Overlord is in: the slow cell, which they find after what seems like ages of searching and carefully stepping past the unsettlingly peaceful-looking bodies.

When they free Overlord from the cell, they find that the teal Decepticon has been heavily sedated and can barely walk. Helex and Tesarus hoist their arms around him to carry him out with the others, but before they can do that, the slow cell door shuts and the Lost Light finally reveals themself.

“I am not fond of trespassers,” they boom with barely hidden ire. “If wish to defile this place to retrieve your charge, then you will stay with him until you rot.”

The DJD are taken aback by the omnipresent voice, and while some (Helex) begin to panic that they don’t have any way out, Tarn takes the lead and blasts a hole through the door with his fusion cannon. The group with Overlord pile out and begin to make their break for the ship (not called the peaceful tyranny here… Peaceful Truth? Prosperous Truth?). The LL attempts to trap them and grab them with their intricate systems but they’re able to blast through everything and fight everything back, and they eventually reach their ship and they pull away from the LL. They believe they’re safe as they steer the PT away, but then they transform, revealing that they’re a massive Cybertronian who now dwarfs them. A battle ensues, the PT shooting at the duplicate LL as they attempt to swat/crush it. The PT lands a perfect shot into LL’s optics, rendering them blind as they scream, and one final barrage through their chassis deals the killing blow. The DJD, shaken by the close call, watch as the duplicate LL keels over and falls silent. Soon after the PT flies away, the titan succumbs to rigormorphis and transforms back into their alternate mode, cold and dead just like the hundreds of bodies inside them.

Some of the DJD, particularly Helex, are slightly traumatized by the ordeal. They'd been surrounded by corpses before, but not in a way like this. And to realize that the walls around them could see them and speak to them, and urge to kill them... well, if a seemingly lifeless ship could be alive, then what else is there? Who else is there?

[probablyasocialecologist]

Over the past 15 years, damage to Gaza’s infrastructure is thought to amount to US$5 billion (£4.1 billion) across four previous wars. After the 22-day invasion from December 2008 to January 2009, the UN documented wide-scale damage to fields, vegetable crops, orchards, livestock, wells, hatcheries, beehives, greenhouses and irrigation systems. Over 35,750 cattle, sheep and goats and more than one million poultry were killed. The UN mission stated that the destruction had degraded land, by “mechanical ripping and removal of trees, shrubs and crops”, and that the “passage of heavy tracked vehicles has compacted the soil”, hampering future cultivation. With each war, Gaza’s dependence on Israeli imports of water, energy, fuel, food and agricultural inputs only increases. Meanwhile, Israel’s economy has become intricately bound to its illegal occupation of Palestine, to the tune of exports worth US$4.16 billion in 2021, creating a perverse mutual dependence.

[i-identify-tanks-in-posts]

Tank Man! A hypothetical for you.

How would you modernize a T-10M to nest survive and fight on the current battlefields of 2024 or later?

Couple of scenarios:

1) It is 2024, current day. You can change whatever you want except the actual layout of the vehicle, and assuming the new systems will fit/can be easily made to fit into the existing architecture of the tank. You have an unlimited budget.

2) Same as above, but you cannot change the gun or other major systems (engine, tracks/suspension, built-in armor, etc), but you can upgrade it in other ways (applique armor, new sensors, etc). You have an unlimited budget for add-ons.

3) It is the mid 2030s after a nuclear apocalypse. You are a post-Russian/Eastern European warlord who found a serviceable T-10M (I.e. it can move, it's not overly rusty, the gun still works, you have ammo for it, etc), and want to upgrade it by cannibalizing bits from the various knocked NATO and Russian tanks left over from the conventional stages of WW3. Your budget is effectively zero, so you can only salvage parts to fit into the tank. What do you do to upgrade it?

Well, this is a bit of a tough one.

For the first scenario, I'm going to gut the whole damned thing. New main gun, to bring it in line with modern ammunition and technology standards, new engine and transmission, since that was one of the IS-8s main flaws. I'd also dig into the C4I of the tank, and bring it up to standard, with modern fire control, sensor suites, etc. I'd also go in and apply a lot of ERA and some soft-kill APS, since that armor isn't going to hold up well to modern fire.

For the second, it's really going to come down to doing everything you can to make the tank more survivable. Applique armor, ERA, APS systems, to be honest, a lot of the stuff we're seeing in Ukraine right now would make the core of the upgrades.

For the third? It's all going to come down to finding parts that are simple and easily replaceable. FCS on an Abrams? Sure, those are going to be a dime a dozen. Loitering munitions launcher on a KF51? Good luck finding ammunition or repair materials for that. However, what's really going to be the issue with an unmodified T-10M is the engine and transmission, which is going to be borderline impossible to replace or repair, given that it's from the 50s, and drivetrain issues were a major part of what got Soviet Heavy Tank development canned in the first place.

[tektronixtechnology]

The size of commercial vehicles and machines mean vehicle Camera Monitor System blind spots are a major factor in collisions across all industries. Operator positions, bodywork, absent rear windows and bulkheads create further restrictions and can greatly limit driver visibility, making collisions even more likely.  The significant financial cost of vehicle and property damage is magnified by associated costs such as downtime, but even greater are the corporate and emotional costs when there is personal injury.

Vehicle Camera Monitoring System

Vehicle Camera Monitoring System Dubai

Vehicle Camera Monitoring System Abu Dhabi

Vehicle Camera Monitoring System Sharjah

Vehicle Camera Monitoring System Ajman

Car Camera Monitoring System UAE

Car Camera Monitoring System Abu Dhabi

Car Camera Monitoring System Sharjah

[tinydreamerphilosopher]

school bus camera 

heavy vehicle camera 

heavy vehicle camera abu dhabi 

camera for bus in dubai 

cctv camera for bus 

bus camera installation abu dhabi 

bus cameras in abu dhabi 

school bus camera in ajman 

heavy vehicle tracking system in abu dhabi 

[queenshelby]

Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART 51: Mother

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Lots of Angst, Age Gap, Miscarriage

PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE!

A week had passed and, just as you slowly recovered from your miscarriage, your excitement grew to see your mother again for the first time in over 15 years. 

Although you struggled with mixed feelings—anger, resentment, and fear—the overwhelming desire to reconcile with her prevailed.

After all, she was your biological mother, the person who bore you in her womb and gave you life. The knowledge was impossible to ignore, and as Cillian held you close, you couldn't help but fantasize about finally having a mother figure back in your life.

By this point, you had already spoken on the phone and you learned that the authorities in the US had separated you from her during the immigration process. Neither of you had a visa at the time and while she was being deported, you were placed into the Forster care system where you struggled to cope.

Over the years, she searched tirelessly for you, desperately trying to track you down and bring you back into her life. 

For years, she lived in hope that fate would reunite you but she never found out where you were until she saw a photograph of you in one a magazine, attending an event with Cillian. 

The article claimed that you were lovers and this revelation shocked her. Shocked because it meant that you were alive and, most importantly, safe. Overwrought with grief, she reached out to Cillian's agent who ignored her emails, thinking that this was a hoax and then she spent all of her savings to fly to New York and attend his premiere, hoping that you would accompany him. 

Unfortunately for her, however, you didn't. You had to remain in Ireland as your spousal visa was being assessed, leaving her to approach Cillian instead.

Cillian was also the one who was picking her up from the airport a week later now seeing that you were still dealing with the aftermath of your miscarriage and weren't allowed to drive. 

He drove you to the airport early morning to pick her up, and you were struck by how much your nerves resembled a tight knot in your stomach.

The memory of your last encounter with her—a tearful goodbye inside the US Detention Centre where you were left behind—haunted you, and you grappled with conflicting emotions. Anger, sadness, longing, and fear wrestled within you.

"Hey, breathe," Cillian whispered soothingly, sensing your anxiety. "Remember, she loves you just as much as you love her," he reminded you, placing a comforting hand on your knee. "She didn't abandon you and you will be able to reconnect now," he assured you, the warmth of his touch radiating through your jeans.

"I know, I know," you stammered before taking a deep breath and focusing on the task ahead.

"Good," Cillian nodded, his expression filled with support and understanding. He knew better than to push you any further, allowing you to gather your strength for the encounter.

As the car approached the terminal, your palms began to sweat, and your heart raced with trepidation. A feeling of unease washed over you, and your stomach churned with anticipation.

You gripped the armrests of the passenger seat, clenching your fists tighter and tighter as you stared out the window at the bustling crowd rushing past.

"Okay, I'm going to park the car in the long-term parking lot," Cillian announced, breaking the silence as he maneuvered the vehicle into a vacant spot. "We can wait for her at arrivals," he added, turning off the engine.

"Sounds good," you mumbled, reluctantly unbuckling your seatbelt, your legs stiff and heavy.

You knew full well that no amount of preparation could prepare you for this moment. Nevertheless, you had to face it. 

Stepping out of the car, you felt the crisp autumn air hit your face.

The weather was cold, but it did not dampen the intensity of the situation, only adding to the mounting anticipation.

"Let's go," said Cillian, reaching for your hand.

His grasp was firm and reassuring, his knuckles tensing beneath your touch.

You laced your fingers firmly with his, allowing the connection to strengthen your resolve.

The walk seemed endless as you followed Cillian towards the arrival hall.

The sound of people chattering surrounded you, and their faces blurred into indistinguishable masses.

You focused on the ticking clock above the information board, watching the minute hand move in slow motion. Each second dragged on, stretching the seconds into eternity. Your heart echoed loudly in your ears, pounding relentlessly against your ribcage.

"Don't worry, she'll be here soon, and you will get to know each other again. It will be fine," Cillian murmured in your ear, pressing a kiss against your temple. His lips were warm and comforting, providing solace amid the chaos surrounding you.

You nodded, your throat constricting, making it difficult to speak. You scanned the crowded airport lounge, searching for a glimpse of your mother.

Your pulse quickened every time someone caught your eye, mistaking them for her. But each time, your heart sank a bit lower.

Cillian squeezed your hand, offering a comforting squeeze. "She's going to be here, Y/N," he whispered, his tone filled with confidence. "Just give it some more time," he urged, urging you to stay patient.

The tension within you mounted as you waited, and your impatience grew stronger with each passing second. Finally, you spotted a familiar face in the crowd. Your heartbeat accelerated, and you instinctively clutched Cillian's hand tighter. "There she is I think," you whispered, pointing at her.

Cillian turned around, and his gaze followed your finger. "Yes, that's defiantly her," he confirmed. 

Your heart skipped a beat, and you could feel the lump forming in your throat. Your palms began to sweat, and the butterflies in your stomach intensified. The realization that this was truly happening consumed you, threatening to break down the barriers you had erected all these years.

"It's going to be grand," Cillian whispered, his grip tightening around your hand. "Just relax," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the din of the crowd as you watched your mother walking toward you, dressed in a simple, elegant outfit, carrying a single suitcase.

She looked different from the woman in the photo, but the resemblance was unmistakable. The same bright eyes, the delicate nose, and full lips. Time had taken its toll, but the essence of the loving mother you remembered remained.

The distance between you narrowed, the gap closing faster with each step she took. You watched as her eyes flicked nervously between you and Cillian, her gaze darting to your hand intertwined with his.

"Hi," you called out tentatively, waving a shaky hand. The mere utterance of the word "hi" unleashed a torrent of raw emotions coursing through you. Your breath faltered, and your voice cracked under the weight of suppressed feelings.

Your mother stopped mid stride, her eyes widening in recognition before tearing up completely. 

"Y/N!" she cried out, her voice shaking with emotion. "My baby girl," she sobbed in Spanish, hastening towards you, her suitcase forgotten by her side.

Cillian released your hand, stepping aside to allow space for the reunion. He watched with a swelling heart as you stepped forward, meeting your mother halfway.

Her face contorted with grief, tears streaming down her cheeks, and she threw herself into your arms. "I got you back," she wailed, hugging you tightly.

You closed your eyes, letting the scent of her perfume fill your senses. It was a mixture of lavender and vanilla, a scent that instantly brought a sense of nostalgia and comfort. You breathed deeply, taking in the moment, savoring the warmth of her embrace.

"Mum," you managed to utter, your voice hoarse and weak. "I...," you whispered, unable to form a sentence, holding her even tighter. She reciprocated the gesture, her tears soaking your shoulder.

"It's okay sweetie. I never forgot about you," she confessed, her voice quivering. "I dreamed that one day I would hold you in my arms again," she continued, clutching you tightly. "I never gave up," she added, squeezing you tightly.

"I know," you cried, releasing her but holding her hands in yours.

"Oh, my darling," she murmured, her eyes brimming with tears.

"I missed you so much," she whispered, wrapping her arms around you tightly.

"Look at you," she marveled, gazing at you admiringly. "You're so beautiful," she praised, her voice quivering with emotion. "I cannot believe how grown up you are. A beautiful young woman," she added, her voice wavering.

"Thanks, Mum," you responded shyly, looking down at your feet. "And you haven't changed at all," you smiled, noticing her radiant smile. "Save for a few wrinkles here and there," you teased, pointing at her forehead.

"Of course, I have aged, mi hija," she chuckled, patting you affectionately on the back before turning towards Cillian and giving him a quick hug also. 

"Thank you, Cillian," she said, her voice cracking slightly. "For bringing me to my daughter, "she added, her eyes welling up with gratitude.

"You're welcome," Cillian replied confidently, his posture erect and proud. "I would do anything for Y/N," he added, flashing a grin at you.

"That's true actually. He so would," you chuckled, smiling at Cillian.

"So, shall we head home?" Cillian asked, breaking the spellbinding silence between you and your mom as he noticed how some people were taking photographs of him, which was always something that was bothersome for you both. 

"Yes," your mother agreed, nodding eagerly. "I would love to see where my daughter lives these days," she said to you, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she tried hard to communicate in English.

"I've been dreaming of this moment for so long," she added, her voice quivering with emotion as Cillian reached for her suitcase and led the way towards the parking lot.

***

Half an hour later, you arrived at your new home by the coast, a spacious house with a nice garden near the beach. 

Cillian parked the car in the driveway before helping your mother with her luggage.

"We only just moved in together, so I hope you like it," you told her shyly before walking her inside, which is when, immediately, her jaw dropped. 

"Wow, it's absolutely gorgeous," your mother exclaimed, her eyes scanning the entire length of the house, awestruck.

"Isn't it?" you chimed in, leading her inside. "This is the living room and there is another one upstairs, like an entertaining area or something," you pointed, gesturing towards the cozy seating area with plush couches, bookshelves and large windows overlooking the ocean.

"And when I'm done decorating, I promise it'll be even better," you giggled, seeing that the house still contained some rather dated features. 

"It's a big house for just the two of you though, isn't it?" she commented, her eyes wandering around the spacious rooms. "I mean, there would be plenty of room for some children, don't you think?" she suggested playfully, her eyes twinkling with delight, causing your heart to drop. 

You had not told your mother that you had not one, but two unplanned pregnancies, both of which ended in miscarriage. 

The thought of bringing such pain and loss into her life seemed cruel, especially considering the circumstances of your reunion. Besides, you had yet to fully come to terms with what happened yourself.

"Can I make you a cup of tea?" you thus offered, ignoring her question while Cillian stood there, not knowing what was being said between you in Spanish. 

"That would be lovely," your mother said, not pressing you on the matter. "I will put my stuff away first though," she noted, indicating the hallway where her suitcase lay.

Cillian raised her suitcase, holding it aloft with ease and walked it to her bedroom on the ground floor.

Your mother trailed behind him, peering curiously at the interior design while you busied yourself in the kitchen preparing tea.

"Thank you for taking care of my little angel," she murmured appreciatively, setting her belongings down gently. "She seems very happy here, with you," she observed, looking at Cillian intently. 

"It's my pleasure," Cillian replied earnestly, his gaze locked onto your mother. "She is everything to me," he confided, his voice softening. "And I love her a lot," he insisted, his eyes glistening with sincerity.

"I am glad to hear that," your mother commented, studying Cillian closely.

"I can tell you're a good man," she added, observing your bond. "She's lucky to have you," she concluded, smiling broadly.

"Thank you," Cillian replied humbly, his eyes lingering on you. "She makes me feel incredibly happy," he admitted quietly, glancing briefly at your mother before looking away, seemingly embarrassed.

"You're welcome, my dear," your mother cooed softly, reaching out to caress Cillian's cheek before he disappeared to give her some privacy. 

To be continued...

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred

[neon-kazoo]

Honk Honk (The briefcase-pt. 2) as requested o7

Choo Choo (part 1)

He had led them all the way back to the depot, weaving through discarded train cars and criss-crossing tracks like it was his second home. They had stopped at a forest green two-door Chevy in a gravel—Hero was really starting to hate gravel—backlot. The truck was old enough that Villain had to twist the key in the lock and rattle the handle to pry the door open. He had shoved Hero past the steering wheel and climbed in after them and the vehicle roared to life after two tries aggressively turning the key in the ignition. Twisted ankle screaming from the uneven terrain, Hero had all but collapsed onto the fabric bench seat, endlessly thankful to not be tossed in the back in a body bag or an equally-claustrophobia-inducing enclosure.

Hero assumed it was his car, given the fact that he knew the key would be left in the rear wheel well and the heavy aroma of tobacco. Hero swore they were getting lung cancer just smelling it.

Wrinkled nose aside, Hero sat obediently in the passenger seat of the truck, busying themselves with a roll of gauze Villain had fished out of the back and thrown at them carelessly. Since he had such great care for their well-being, he even mentioned he hoped the switchblade was clean—which thankfully it was.

He did, however, refuse to offer assistance in the wrapping of Hero’s inconveniently-located gashes, which led Hero to sport several loose and stray loops of gauze around their arms before they shrugged their jacket back on. Clearly, he was still mad they interrupted his smoke break.

They were just glad he had not actually pushed the blade into their thigh, because there was no way Hero would be removing their pants to care for a leg wound next to Villain in this tiny cab.

They were able to wrap their rib wound with a little difficultly, tucking their shirt up and holding one end of gauze with their chin and praying Villain wouldn’t take the next curve too hard. Hero didn’t know how much good just dressing the stab and slices would do healing-wise, but it was their only option, and at the very least it might staunch the bleeding.

The belt across their lap did little to help hold them in place as they worked, and they found that most of their muscles protested their continued usage. Finally good enough to hold, Hero tore the wrap with their teeth and shoved the tail between the layers above their stomach. Only then could they relax.

Well, relax was a bit of a strong word.

Exactly how mad was Villain, and what did that mean for Hero? He certainly didn’t seem too shy about dealing fatal blows a few hours ago. They realized tiredly that they should probably be trying to figure out a way out of this before he made good on his previous threats.

Hero eyed the door handle beside them. Before they could commit to any less-than-stellar ideas, Villain cleared his throat. That was when Hero finally spotted the gun resting in his lap.

“I think you’ve had enough abrupt departures from moving vehicles for the day, don’t you?”

Hero tried to slump, but quickly shot back up at the pain in their ribs. They threw Villain a sideways glare.

Knife-happy bastard.

Hero just hoped he wasn’t going to be so liberal with the use of his bullets.

“Are you gonna tell me what this is all about?”

Are you going to kill me?

Villain answered only with silence, so Hero closed their increasingly-heavy eyelids and tried to work through the situation in their head.

A strange meeting, a black briefcase, an angry Villain.

It didn’t make sense.

Despite the uneven rocking of a poor-suspension system and the rumbling of a questionable engine, Hero eventually drifted off with their head rolling like a rag doll and filled with unanswered questions.

They awoke to almost smashing their head open like a watermelon on the dash as Villain pulled aggressively into a spot at a rest stop. Hero saw poorly-lit vending machines and restroom signs between heavy blinks they tried to use to clear the sleep from their head. Lagging back into reality, Hero turned to squint at Villain…who was somehow now wearing jeans and a hoodie?

They blinked a few more times just to be sure, and the figure in the driver’s seat didn’t change. It was still him—and Hero had not hallucinated their failed mission because they could still see the remnants of gel in his hair—but clearly Hero had been out long enough for Villain to do a quick change or something. Hero cursed themselves for falling unconscious when they should have been worrying about an escape or finding the case. Not to mention, they didn’t trust Villain as far as they could throw them, and they would much rather be awake in his presence.

Hero assessed themselves, and found they remained exactly as disheveled as they were before they left the waking world. The hastily-wrapped gauze was even still poking out of their sleeve.

“Sleep well?” He mocked.

Judging by the massive crick in their neck, the answer was yes.

“Right up until you almost gave me a traumatic brain injury,” Hero replied, slightly mumbling as they rubbed at their eyes and dragged their hands down their face dramatically.

“Had to wake you up somehow,” he replied with a trace of mischief as he exited the car and started walking around the hood towards their side.

Hero froze in confusion when their door was opened.

Villain leveled them with a look that screamed ‘where-are-your-brain-cells?’ and threw his head back towards the scary looking building and rolled his eyes.

“Bathroom? You know, bodily functions?”

Hero did not feel very intelligent as they unbuckled the flimsy lap belt and walked under the flickering street lights.

Left to their own devices in the poorly-maintained family bathroom, Hero silently thanked Congress for the hand rails that helped them limp around the room. Outside, Villain could be heard talking on what Hero presumed was a phone, considering how deserted this stop was.

Hero, of course, eavesdropped. Blah blah, fifty miles north, blah blah, should have known, blah blah blah—Something about a blue cab?

Briefly, they considered locking the door and trying to wait Villain out, but they decided the chances of him having a lock picking set or just plain being able to bust the door down himself were too great to risk losing their privileges. Plus, if they were being honest, the bugs attacking the light in the corner scared them more than going back outside. They were unnaturally large. Giving the infested corner a wide berth, Hero hobbled back out and was led back to the truck.

“Great news,” Villain began after they were settled, “I’ve got a lead for you.”

It took Hero a second to realize he was talking about the briefcase. So he was serious about sending them after it, but to already have a lead? How long had they been out?

“Good morning to you too,” Hero spoke, even though it was clearly the beginning of the night. Crickets chirped outside the window, removing any doubt. They weren’t even sure what day of the week it was anymore, and they definitely weren’t about to ask.

In response, Hero was pelted with..something. They flinched back before they realized whatever had been launched in their direction hadn’t done any damage, and they found the mystery object resting in the floorboard. A bottle of Advil rattled in their hand as they feveredly twisted it open and downed two pills dry.

“I had water, you know?”

Hero said nothing, simply grabbing the offered bottle and chugging it all in one go.

Villain, looking rather horrified, slowly handed over a bag of chips that were immediately ripped open.

Hero crunched as loud as humanly possible as Villain drove until he finally broke and turned the radio on to some random pop station.

Hero, satisfied with their win, remained silent after balling up the empty bag and tossing it in the floorboard with the empty plastic bottle. Villain refrained from reacting until Hero made a show of licking their thumb clean, then wiping the rest of their fingers on the seat beside them.

“You do remember the gun, don’t you?”

“Shooting someone over Cheeto dust seems a little extreme, don’t you think?”

They seriously wondered how Villain managed to remain impassive after all this time. He certainly hadn’t slept, and Hero wasn’t even sure if he had eaten anything. There was no way he stayed that fit with just the half-empty coke can beside him.

In classic Villain fashion, he ignored them once again until they pulled into a second rest stop, this one more populated than the last.

From the spot Villain parked, the area containing semi-trucks was clearly visible. Long, slanted lines marked the separate spaces, with several being occupied by trucks and trailers. From what Hero could see, two were blue, one black, and a couple red with all white trailers. Villain’s eyes were glued towards the two farthest trucks, parked away from the rest.

“You see the one on the right?” Villain asked, pointing towards the semis he had been watching.

“Yes…” Hero answered suspiciously.

He wasn’t planning to get them run over, was he?

“Congratulations, you’re gonna steal from it.”

“You want me to steal?”

Hero whipped their head in disbelief.

“This is what happens when you lose things that aren’t yours. Considering you stole it in the first place, I assumed you’d be thrilled.”

Hero was not thrilled. At least, what Villain had planned was not to dangle Hero by the ankles and have them fish a waterlogged briefcase out of the river—as Hero may or may not have been imagining on the long trek through the countryside—but it honestly might as well have been. Instead, Villain informed them that he was sending them over to a parked semi-truck to break in and locate the case that may or may not be in there.

He didn’t say anything about how he knew it would be in there or who was driving, but if it was any indication he handed back the switchblade before shooing them out of the car.

They considered arguing about their injuries and how he would be a far better candidate for a stealth mission, but that would involve admitting he was in better shape than them.

They couldn’t satisfy the bastard like that.

Besides, they had resolved to keep the briefcase out of everyone’s hands, and that included his.

With no other choice, Hero circled the back of the trailer lot, taking the long route through the grass and hiding behind a trailer when any truckers came too close. They tugged at the annoying watch Villain had insisted—threatened—them to wear.

Reaching the farthest trailer, Hero walked past the sparkling blue cab and came to a stop behind the access doors to the container. Oddly enough, there were no numbers or hazard squares pasted on the back, only mud flaps and a dirty license plate hanging low under the latches and chains.

“Iowa? What in this case is worth taking to Iowa. Am I risking my life for corn seeds right now?” They spoke into the watch incredulously.

Their annoying lookout responded, “Less talking, more thieving.”

Hero rolled their eyes, then—realizing Villain couldn’t see them—groaned audibly.

Regardless, they lifted up the latch and cringed at the sound the metal made when it creaked open.

“Are you sure this is a good-“

“Get in.”

The man did have a gun.

Planting their foot on the red and white striped rebar strip, they threw themselves unceremoniously into the dark container. They fumbled around in the shadows, running their hands across plastic-wrapped pallets. They tripped a few times on the wood, and they cursed.

“You couldn’t have given me a flashlight,” they whisper-yelled into their wrist.

“You’ll live,” came the drawled reply.

“I’m not the one that wants this stupid- ah hah!”

Hero lifted up a smooth leather briefcase, hidden behind a shipment of soft drinks—maybe. It was really dark.

“Grab it and get out,” ordered Villain.

“Yeah yeah, I’m going.”

Hero, for some reason, struggled to keep their balance as they back tracked towards the doors. When they stepped down backwards, red lights illuminated right in their face, and they froze with one foot out the door.

“YOU DIDNT TELL ME IT WAS MOVING?!” Hero screeched in realization.

“What are you talking about?”

Hero didn’t bother to keep verbally reprimanding Villain for his inattentiveness, instead preparing to practice their new signature move—the tuck-and-roll as they searched desperately for a patch of grass to aim for. They slammed the doors shut as quietly as they could, crossing their arms awkwardly to try and hold onto the door and the case at the same time.

Just when the shoulder turned from concrete to dirt, Hero made to let go of the door, only, something pulled them back. They looked back to find the loose gauze in their sleeve had been closed in the door, and—to make matters worse—the case was stuck on the handle. Truly a comedy of errors, not that Hero could appreciate the humor in their situation as the semi picked up speed and traveled towards the highway. Hero had never seen a large vehicle accelerate so fast.

In a split second, Hero had to decide between freeing themselves or the case.

“Throw the case!” Villain suggested, like the devil on their shoulder.

Hero was not so naive. They unraveled their bandage before lifting the case up and off the lever it was hooked on. When they looked down again, it was now too late for them to drop without breaking a few bones, and the only reason Villain would have to help them was held in their hand. If they let it go, they would be on their own, and there would be no one to stop Villain from doing whatever he planned to do with it.

They were thrown from side to side roughly as they tried to remain attached to the vehicle. If there was a sticker with a number to report this trucker’s driving, Hero would be calling it. Knowing Advil was not all powerful and they wouldn’t last long clinging to the back with this lunatic behind the wheel, Hero set their eyes towards the top.

There were two vertical poles running up each side of the door, and there was just enough room for Hero to shove their fingers behind them and get a good enough grip to start climbing up and away from the asphalt rushing beneath them. Hero was hit with sudden Deja vu for the one handed climbing and moving containers.

They should have asked Villain for some of those stupid shoes, because their nike tennis shoes were not made for ascending the back of an eighteen-wheeler. If they lived through this, they were going to buy a membership to a climbing gym and hire Villain as their personal trainer.

Heavily regretting not wrapping their ankle, Hero heaved up onto the roof and was immediately hit with wind resistance much greater than that on the train. The ground was also moving much faster, and Hero imagined falling now would hurt a lot more. There was nothing up here to hold onto, and stray hairs were flying all around Hero’s face. Trying to stay upright and on top of the truck, Hero surveyed the traffic ahead, or lack there of. The only lights up ahead appeared to belong to a truck pulling a camper, probably belonging to some family making a long drive to some beautiful destination.

God, Hero could really use a vacation.

Now with a second to think, Hero realized the smart plan would have been to try and get back inside the truck while they were still by the latch. Unfortunately, it was too late now. Hero was stuck.

Mind racing, Hero scrambled for a realistic idea. Maybe if they could get to the cab-

They heard the faintest call of “fuck” and they wondered what late-night trucker was cursing so loud at cars on the road. The chorus of swearing continued before Hero realized it was coming from the com on their wrist, and Villain wasn’t yelling expletives.

“Duck!”

Hero whipped their head around, searching for any waterfowl they were supposed to look out for. Just in the nic of time, they noticed the real danger—the low overpass hurtling towards them.

They flattened as best they could and promised to make good on all the promises they had made the last time they were in mortal danger.

Concrete brushed the back of their hood as they tried their best to channel the energy of a pancake, and by some miracle the semi had enough extra clearance for Hero to get by unscathed.

Physically that is. Mentally they were very much scathed.

Hero screamed about how there better be a nuclear weapon or something of equal importance in this briefcase, but it was swallowed by the air.

Hero stayed down for longer than necessary before looking ahead to ensure there were no more surprises coming up.

Path clear as far as they could tell, they army crawled towards the front of the truck, hoping the friction of their clothes would be enough to keep them from flying off. They swore the container was growing because of how long it was taking them to move across it. When the edge was finally in reach, they grabbed it with two hands and pulled, sliding the rest of the way before dropping into the space where the wiring was strung between the cab to the trailer. By the grace of someone, they didn’t trip and face plant after getting tangled in the connections.

Turning to the left, Hero spotted a dark colored shape driving alongside the truck with its lights off.

Hero had never been so glad to see Villain in their life.

Trying their best not to think about the image of them going splat on the road, Hero moved into a lunging stance. All they had to do was wait for the bed of the pickup truck to line up with the gap they were standing on.

They took a deep breath. Almost…

A loud sound sent their ears ringing and them stumbling back on the aluminum grating.

A gunshot.

Apparently, someone had other ideas.

Two more shots later, and Hero was positive they were going to have hearing damage. Judging by the hole in Villain’s windshield, the safest place for them to be right now seemed to be right where they were. They clutched the convenient handle beside them and prepared to wait out the gunfight. That was, until the driver of the semi-truck seemed to abruptly floor it. Hero could see they were pulling away from the Chevy, and they had no plans to stay on this semi-death machine any longer.

Locking all their doubt away, Hero leapt for the truck bed. They hit the rusted metal with a slam and the briefcase attempted to lodge itself in their abdomen beneath them. Gasping, Hero ducked down in case any more bullets decided to fly.

They flipped onto their back, catching a view of the night sky. The stars were bright out here with no light pollution to cloud them.

After what seemed like a lifetime, Hero’s breathing returned to a normal rhythm and the car rolled gradually to a slower pace.

Well, it was now or never.

Hero sat up and threw themselves out of the back and onto solid ground. Clutching the case, they made to run the opposite direction the car was facing. Adrenaline reserves reset, they figured they had a small window to get out and find a place to hide. They followed the pavement while simultaneously scanning the tree line for any thickened foliage they could use to obscure themselves. Realizing they’d need a lot more cover than the sparse forest could provide, Hero started scanning the highway. It stretched past a bend, with freshly painted lines and impressed rumble strips on the shoulder. It appeared not a soul was traveling it aside from Hero and Villain.

Hero cursed their flimsy plan, hoping for a trucker, a convenient cop, or even just a Good Samaritan out for a midnight drive.

The road was so quiet, Villain’s voice boomed when he yelled, “Where do you think you’re going?”

Hero, once again, had no idea.

Making the curve with their feet pounding beneath them, Hero looked back to see if Villain had managed to make a U-turn yet. What they saw were reverse lights and the growing silhouette of his truck, which unfortunately distracted them from what was ahead of them.

By the time they saw the headlights coming from the other direction and heard the loud honking of a horn, they had only a second to dive away.

Once again spared road rash by their clothes, Hero groaned through a mouthful of grass. The other car and its lights continued to barrel around the corner, leaving Hero alone with the forest green truck that was now upon them.

Under the light of his headlights, a hand grabbed and pulled the leather bag up and away from the hero and held it above them.

Only then did they realize the briefcase was brown.

(I hope this part was equally enjoyable <3

Shout out to the semi-trucks I stared at for a few hours and to my beta reader, who puts up with me for some reason)

[is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not]

Transmission begins:

> message loading...

> loading... > message loaded

> decrypt? [Y/N]

> Y

> displaying message:

Origin: Canopus IV

Destination: Terra / Islington

Subject: Deployment of Magistracy Armed Forces for Operation TOUCHDOWN

Message: ALCON, 1st Canopian Cuirassiers have arrived at Islington. Available for tasking at discretion of Local Force Commander. Glory to the Magistracy.

Commanding Officer: Colonel Inanna Allard-Liao (see attached personnel file)

TO&E: 1x BattleMech battalion - 36x BattleMechs [8x Assault, 24x Heavy, 4x Light] (1 CANOPIAN CUIR.) 1x AeroSpace group - 18x aerospace fighters (1 CANOPIAN AIR GUARD) 1x Armor battalion - 72x armored fighting vehicles (1 CANOPIAN ARM. GUARD) 1x Infantry battalion - 448x infantry (1 CANOPIAN INF. GUARD)

> message ends

> open attachment 1? [Y/N]

> Y

> opening attachment:

// MAGISTRACY ARMED FORCES \\

--This information is not for public distribution.--

INANNA ALLARD-LIAO

Rank: Colonel, Commanding Officer 1st Canopian Cuirassiers

Assigned Unit: Command Lance

Personal 'Mech: Yaguara 'Inanna' YGR-2D-IAL

Date of Birth: 3103-04-28

Parents: Melissa Allard-Liao & Fredrik Allard-Liao [Né Richardson]

Age: 50

Listed Gender: F

Physiological Details: Full genetic modification treatment [extreme; "Animalia conversion", subtype: snow leopard] - performed @ Ceres Station - Terran System - 3119-04-28

Height: 190cm

Weight: 97kg

Eye Color: Grey

Languages Known: English (First Language),

Organ Donor: Y

Dependents: none (5 adult children)

Current Location: [Redacted]

COMBAT EXPERIENCE

32 years enlisted in MAF

7 large operations

25 deployments

22 combat deployments

[Redacted] confirmed kills

102 battlemechs incapacitated/destroyed [ranged]

69 battlemechs incapacitated/destroyed [melee]

199 combat vehicles incapacitated/destroyed

10 aerospace craft downed [ranged]

3 aerospace crafted downed [melee]

1 dropship downed [ranged]

1 dropship downed [melee]

Areas Deployed: [Redacted]

Awards: Canopus Cluster [Platinum w/ Ruby], Fist of Raventhir [3152], Bravery Medal 1st class x12, Combat Excellence Ribbon x5

> open attachment 1? [Y/N]

> Y

> opening attachment:

// MAGISTRACY ARMED FORCES \\

--This information is not for public distribution.--

Yaguara 'Inanna' YGR-2D-IAL

Mass: 75 tons Chassis: Earthwerks TDR IV Power Plant: Vlar 300 XL Cruising Speed: 43.2 kph Maximum Speed: 86.4 kph Jump Jets: Rawlings Model 60 Jump Capacity: 120 meters Armor: Hellespont cFF Armament: 1 Rotary AC/2 2 ER Large Laser 2 Medium Pulse Laser 1 Medium Vibroblade

Manufacturer: Majesty Metals and Manufacturing Primary Factory: Unknown Communication System: Tek BattleCom Targeting & Tracking System: Tek Tru-Trak Introduction Year: 3146 Tech Rating/Availability: F/X-X-X-X Cost: 27,480,250 C-bills

Overview

Proposed as part of Project BIG CAT for the Magistracy of Canopus, the Yaguara was designed by Majesty Metals and Manufacturing in 3146 as a fast moving, hard-hitting heavy 'Mech.

This custom variant, built for Inanna Allard-Liao, possesses an extremely dangerous close combat weapon - a 'Mech vibroblade, mounted on a 'Mech-scale myomer tail, in addition to most of the weaponry of the base configuration.

Capabilities

The Yaguara was built from the ground up with speed and long-ranged engagement in mind. Built around a supercharged Vlar 300 XL engine, the 'Mech can sprint over 86 kph, allowing it to keep up with lances comprised of much lighter 'Mechs than itself. It complements this ground speed with four Rawlings Model 60 jump jets, granting it a jumping distance of 120 meters for an extra mobility boost. Its armament is built around a pair of Clan-spec ER Large Lasers, uncommon in the region, and a Class-2 Rotary Autocannon, with a pair of SRM 6s and medium pulse lasers as close-engagement backups. All of this, unfortunately, comes at the cost of heat - the Yaguara was designed with bracket fire in mind, and MechWarriors are advised not to alpha strike without due cause. This custom variant was built for Inanna Allard-Liao. It is a hybrid Clantech refit, using many experimental technologies, as well as the removal of the previously-mounted SRM 6s, to allow for the addition of a custom myomer armored tail, with a 'Mech scale vibroblade mounted to the end. Complimenting this weapon are Triple-Strength Myomer and a Supercharger, to allow the 'Mech to reach truly incredible speeds for its weight.

Controlled by Inanna using a salvaged Word of Blake Buffered VDNI system, the 'Mech moves with the same fluid grace as its pilot. Advances in Belter/Canopian hybrid medical science have extended Inanna's lifespan estimate from 15 years to 75, and are predicted to have significantly extended the initial onset period for the madness which often accompanies use of neural interface systems.

Type: Yaguara 'Inanna' Technology Base: Mixed (Experimental) Tonnage: 75 Battle Value: 3,768

Equipment Mass Internal Structure Endo Steel 4 Engine 300 XL 9.5 Walking MP: 4 Running MP: 6(8) Jumping MP: 4 Double Heat Sink 15 [30] 5 Compact Gyro 4.5 Interface Cockpit [VDNI] 4 Armor Factor (Ferro) 231 12.5

Internal Armor Structure Value

Head 3 9

Center Torso 23 35

Center Torso (rear) 11

R/L Torso 16 24

R/L Torso (rear) 8

R/L Arm 12 24

R/L Leg 16 32

Right Arm Actuators: Shoulder, Upper Arm, Lower Arm, Hand Left Arm Actuators: Shoulder, Upper Arm, Lower Arm, Hand

Weapons and Ammo Location Critical Heat Tonnage 2 Jump Jet LL 2 - 2.0 Nova Combined Electronic Warfare System CT 1 - 1.5 Supercharger CT 1 - 1.0 CASE II RT 1 - 0.5 Medium Pulse Laser RT 1 4 2.0 2 Double Heat Sink RT 4 - 2.0 Rotary AC/2 Ammo (90) RT 2 - 2.0 3 Triple Strength Myomer RA/LA 3/3 - 0.0 ER Large Laser LA 1 12 4.0 Vibroblade (Armored) LA 2 - 5.0 Medium Pulse Laser LT 1 4 2.0 Double Heat Sink LT 2 - 1.0 Rotary AC/2 LT 3 1 8.0 2 Jump Jet RL 2 - 2.0 3 Triple Strength Myomer RA/LA 3/3 - 0.0 ER Large Laser RA 1 12 4.0

Features the following Design Quirks: Animalistic Appearance, Battle Computer, Battle Fists, Battle Fists, Combat Computer, Directional Torso Mount (Vibroblade), Fine Manipulators, Hyper-Extending Actuators, Improved Communications, Improved Sensors, Multi-Trac, Nimble Jumper, Reinforced Legs, Rugged (1 Point), Difficult to Maintain