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unhappycylinder · 1 year

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Gonna Be Trouble (Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x F!Reader) Part 1

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Female Reader

Word Count: 3049

Warnings: none really, just some anxiety about school ig (reader is in college), flirty hangman, awkward reader, fluff and flirting to a concerningly self-indulgent point

Summary: Y/n goes back to her hometown airshow to escape the stress of school for a weekend and reconnect with her childhood passion. Hangman just happens to be a demo pilot at this same air show and falls for y/n instantly. Part 1 of idk how many but this will be ongoing and will move beyond the airshow pretty quickly. Strangers to lovers arc. Hangman is a sucker for a smart woman what can I say...

Part 2 Part 3

The sun was just setting under the desert horizon and you still had an hour and a half before you were back in Las Vegas. You had moved away to go to college three years ago and were looking for literally any excuse to escape the hell-hole that was university and reconnect with yourself. Years of books, essays, exams, and frat parties had taken their toll on you and your health (and your liver but we don’t have to unpack that yet because you literally turned 21 a month ago).

Anyway…even though planes weren’t your main thing anymore, you still loved them. Everyone has a soft spot for their childhood obsession. Most kids loved dinosaurs or the Titanic or horses, but not you, no…the American military’s aviation department really tickled your fancy when you were in elementary school. You even wanted to be a pilot for a while, contemplated joining the Navy and everything, but your family’s academic goals put a stop to that pretty quickly.

There was a quaint hotel within a few miles of base that you opted for instead, deciding to take the shuttle to and from the air show each day.

As your music played quietly over the car radio you finally got some time alone with your thoughts. Time to unpack all the crazy shit that had happened to you since college started, and time to think about what was next for you after you graduated next year. You decided that you were going to focus on yourself this weekend and nobody else. You’d silence your phone, try not to take pictures and post much on Instagram, and for the love of God you’d leave your barren dating apps alone cause lord knows nothing was gonna happen there.

“Love Me Tonight” came on the radio and you turned up the volume, swaying to one of your favorite songs as you passed the final mountain and saw Las Vegas in the distance, sighing in relief that your 15 hour day had finally come to an end.

–The Next Morning–

You only heard two gunshots outside your hotel last night, which to be fair was pretty chill for a night in Vegas, and the sunrise indicated that it was time for you to start getting ready for your day on base. You wanted to beat the crowd so you could have time to check out all the static displays before trying to find a seat in front of the runway.

Throwing on an outfit of leggings and a tight black long-sleeve with a denim bomber jacket on top, you finished getting ready before leaving your hotel room.

Hopping on the shuttle, you realized the only open seat was next to a man in his 70s wearing a Vietnam War Veteran ball cap who was blankly staring out the window with a slight frown on his face.

“Excuse me sir,” you said, “can I sit here?”

He perked up almost instantly and shuffled lightly towards the window, patting the seat gently and smiling up at you.

“Of course honey, it’d be a pleasure”

“Are you here with your family, or is it just you today?” You asked, leaning in to make sure he heard you

“Just me I’m afraid. My grandkids all live out of state and well my wife passed not too long ago. It’s just me now, and I haven’t missed one of these shows in years” he nodded

You smiled at him and nodded, “Me too. I used to come every year as a kid and this is my first time back since starting college”

“Oh how wonderful! What do you study?”

You and the old man chatted for what felt like half an hour but was really only the 10 minute ride to base. His name was Hank and he served two tours of Vietnam when he was 19. He met his wife, Marlee, a couple months after the war at an air show in California where he was promoting a veterans organization and they were married for forty-five years. He asked you about college, family, your interest in planes, and complimented you any chance he got. When the bus parked he struggled to get up, pulling out a cane from in between the seats and trying his best to wiggle his way out of the bus until you grabbed ahold of his other arm and helped him off the vehicle and through the air show gates.

“You know y/n you remind me an awful lot of my wife when I first met her. She looked just like you…” he paused, studying your face, “did her hair the same way, talked the same way you do”

“Aw thank you Hank that’s really kind,” you brought your hand to your chest and smiled at him, he beamed back.

“You know I hope you get to experience a life like me and my Marlee did, I just know it’ll happen for you”

You thanked him again and smiled, it was a sweet thing for him to say and you didn’t have the heart to tell him your only romantic endeavors thus far had been one-night-stands off of bumble. He smiled once again and shook your hand, hobbling off with his cane towards a C-5 parked right in front of the gate.

“And y/n,” he said while walking away, “enjoy the air show”

–

A-10s, F-15s, F-16s, F-35s, a B-1, and so many more aircraft that defined your childhood lined the runway along with the frequent hot dog and pretzel vendors. You wandered past each plane, circling them to check out their engines and empennages, taking special note of all the specs and features you used to obsess over as a kid.

“Any questions over here ma’am?” a tall brunette in camo and aviators asked you from beneath the wing of the A-10.

“Oh god, I don’t think so. This was my favorite plane as a kid and I’m just kinda reminiscing about it now,” you responded, squinting from the sun which was over the plane right now

“She’s my favorite too, I mean I’d hope she was cause I fly her, but y’a know”

“What’s it like to fly ‘em?”

“Magnificent ma’am, truly indescribable,” he said while walking closer to you

“I’ll ask you a question about them then if they were your favorite as a kid, how’s that sound ma’am?” He asked, you laughed

“Jeez okay go ahead, hit me with it”

“Alright, how many pounds-” he was cut off by a little kid running up and playing with the ‘remove before flight’ tags on the aircraft

“Excuse me miss” he said in a hurry as he ran to the child and politely but sternly asked him to stop fiddling with the aircraft. You chuckled and shook your head as you walked quickly behind the plane.

It was then that your eye was caught by the most magnificent thing you had ever seen in your entire life. You must have skipped over this part in the brochure online, because nothing would have enticed you more than the U.S. Navy’s very own F/A-18 Super Hornet. If the A-10 was your favorite plane as a kid, the F/A-18 might as well have been the reason you considered a career in the military or pursued anything aviation related at all. This plane was your absolute dream, and you had zero clue one was going to be here.

Completely forgetting your trivia game with the A-10 pilot, you practically ran over to the jet, shedding your jacket in the process. It was still early in the day and this bird was the last display on the lot, so nobody else was in sight. You dropped your jacket to the ground as you approached the jet, scanning every single inch of it, especially the name painted on the side below the cockpit:

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin

Your eyes were wide as you walked the length of the wing, hovering your hand over the grey metal, being afraid to touch it and damage it. As you got behind the wing however you noticed the beautiful dark blue Navy logo and simply couldn’t resist reaching out to trace your fingers along the gold ribboning which encircled the logo. Just as you made contact with the jet a voice erupted from behind you, making you jump.

“Scuse me ma’am,” it was said in the most delectable Southern drawl you’d ever heard

“Jesus Christ!” You yelled, turning around and immediately shrinking into yourself.

Standing before you was God’s very own favorite creation…literally the most beautiful man you had ever seen. He was in a dark green flight suit and aviators with his dark blonde hair slicked back from a side part. He twirled a toothpick in his mouth, which was twitched into a seductive smile as he peered down at you.

“Sorry,” you struggled to get out, turning red in the face, “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking,” you turned back towards the wing and started walking to pick up your jacket from the nasty ground. A strong hand grabbed a hold of your upper arm before you could take more than a step.

“Darlin’ it's okay, sorry I startled you, didn’t realize you didn’t see me coming up behind you”

He pulled you back in front of him and kept his hand gently on your shoulder, you almost combusted from his touch.

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to yell, or to touch the jet, I seriously don’t know what got into me. I mean I just watched a kid get yelled at for doing basically the same thing and now here I am, a grown woman, doing the same exact thing, feeling up the aircraft.” You rambled and he just smiled, letting out a little chuckle here and there, “I don’t mean feeling it up, not like that. Sorry. I mean touching it. I shouldn’t touch government property, that’s a lawsuit waiting to happen…”

“I’m gonna cut you off now darlin’,” he interjected while rubbing your shoulder, “no need to apologize for feeling up my jet, I get it, I feel her up all the time” he winced at his comment.

“...your jet. You’re the pilot?”

“I’d hope so, last I checked that was my name up there on her cockpit”

You both glanced up to the name then down to his name patch on his suit…they did indeed match.

“Lieutenant Jake Seresin ma’am, callsign Hangman,” he removed his hand from your shoulder and held it out for you to shake it

“Y/n Y/l/n” you responded, placing your smaller hand in his and giving it a firm shake. He glanced down at your hands as you shook them.

“You got a strong handshake there miss y/l/n, you sure you’re not in the military?”

You chuckled, “no sir, thought about it, but no. I guess I just have big hands?”

You held your hands up in front of you and wiggled your fingers, making Jake laugh.

“C’mere,” Jake said as he stepped towards the jet where you had been looking earlier, motioning for you to follow.

“She’s an F/A-18E Super Hornet, but we like to call them-”

“The Rhino,” you cut him off, looking up at him with wide eyes

“So you’re a plane nerd, huh?” Jake asked, leaning against the fuselage of his jet

“Sorry. I used to be. These were my dream plane, I always wanted to fly them”

“You can touch it,” Jake smiled at you, you were still standing a good 2 feet from the jet, afraid to get any closer.

“No really it's okay, I don’t need to-”

“Come here,” Jake grabbed your right hand and pulled you towards him as he rested against the plane. You two stood there face to face for a second, inches from each other, hands interlocked, before Jake stood behind you and lifted your hands to touch the Navy logo together. His large calloused hand rested on top of yours as he guided your hands in a circle around the logo, his chest bumping into your back when you had to reach a little farther to touch the top of it.

“It’s a beautiful jet lieutenant” you said as you touched the plane, you felt his breath hitch when you said that last word. You looked over your shoulder to face him, his face inches from yours, his eyes more visible now through his sunglasses.

“You sticking around for the whole day?” He asked, removing his hand from yours and resting it against the jet so you were between him and the jet, enclosed by his arm.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here both days all day” you said, looking up at him, blushing beyond belief. How you were functioning right now was beyond you.

“Good. I’m gonna be taking her up in a few hours and I’d love for you to watch me. Maybe after I land we could go out for a drink,” he smirked, twirling the toothpick with his tongue to the other side of his mouth. God this man was doing unspeakable things to you.

“Are you asking me on a date?” You said with absolute disbelief, chuckling as if it was a joke. No part of you could believe that an actual in-person man was asking you out for the first time, and it was even more unfathomable that that man was the sexiest fighter pilot in the entire U.S. Navy.

“I suppose I am miss y/l/n, if you’d have me,” he said, his confidence wavering the slightest bit after your response.

“I can’t believe it. There’s no way! Look at you!” You gestured up and down to him

“Look at me? Darlin’ you must not have a mirror cause all I’m seeing in front of me is pure beauty. You’re gorgeous sweetheart, and damn smart too” Jake brought his hand off the plane to fix a stray hair that had stuck to your lip gloss, tucking it behind your ear.

“I-” you began but you couldn’t seem to form the words, “Yeah, yes. You’re perfect. Drinks after you fly, I’ll be there.” That was apparently the most coherent thing you could come up with.

Jake smiled a million dollar smile and took his sunglasses off his face, resting them on the zipper of his suit. His eyes were a gorgeous light green and they creased at the sides when he smiled, making you absolutely melt. He bent down until his mouth was right next to your ear, his warm breath sending chills down your neck.

“I’m looking forward to it Y/n,” he practically growled, “meet me back here after the demo,” he planted a soft kiss on your cheekbone as he pulled his head back, winking at you once you finally got the courage to make eye contact with him.

All you could do was smile and nod as Jake walked away and returned with your jacket,

“Don’t want you forgetting this darlin’, gotta stay warm, don’t want you catching a cold before our date,” he beamed.

You smiled up at him as you took your jacket, intentionally running your hand down his as you took the fabric, making his eyes widen and stare deeper into yours.

“You’re gonna be trouble for me, I can already tell,” he smirked and spun on his heels, walking over to a family approaching the nose of the aircraft. You stood behind the wing clasping your jacket in front of you, too shocked to move or think.

“What the actual fuck,” you whispered as you shook your head and started walking towards the stratotanker to the left of the jet. You fixed your hair as you walked, fiddling with the strands to alleviate your anxiety about whatever just occurred. Jake focused on the way your ass moved under those leggings as you walked away from his jet, completely ignoring the kid in front of him asking him a gazillion questions about his plane. He was right, you were definitely going to be trouble for him.

----

This is just part 1!! Let me know what y’all think. This is my first time posting a fic to tumblr so pls drop suggestions below!! Part 2 coming soon

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #top gun fic #top gun maverick #top gun #navy

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

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COMING SOON! Riding High- A Frank Adler fic.

Series Summary: Frank Adler is a single man in his early 30s, simply doing his best to raise his genius niece Mary. After a passing comment from his well-meaning neighbour, land-lady and friend, he decides that before he enrols her into school she needs to learn some social skills and pick up a hobby to help her interact with kids her own age.

Felicity (Fliss) Gallagher is a single woman in her early 30s. An British Olympic Gold Medal winning Showjumper who was forced into early retirement due to a nasty accident, she’s now settled in South Pasadena running Sandybrook Stables, an Equestrian Centre which provide both boarding and teaching services.

Their worlds merge when Mary decides she wants to learn how to ride.

Both have a history, both are running and fleeing from their demons. Maybe, just maybe one broken soul can mend the other… Series Warnings: Bad Language words. There will be smut. Dark themes (can’t reveal too much as will give the game away at this point)

Episode Pairings: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher (yeah I’m a sucker for an OFC…)

A/N: So yeah, this one’s been buzzing in my head for AGES now. As you all know, I’m a Brit so I’m REALLY sorry if too much British horsey lingo slips into this…ASK away if you don’t understand. As means of an explanation in the UK we have 3 main types of stables. We have Riding Schools (which focus solely on providing riding lessons), Livery Yards (which are places where owners board their horses) and Equestrian Centres (which do both). After a bit of research it seems that EC also translates across the pond and means the same thing so…just bear with me on this and run with it!

Tagging all my SSB/CSI readers…if you want in or off the list PLEASE just tell me.

As always I’m a ho for a REBLOG and COMMENT!

And yes, the woman in the photos in the cover banner on and with the Chestnut is me and my wonderful, wonderful old girl who I lost 2 years ago…

“I’m holding you solely responsible for this.” Frank shot Roberta a glare as Mary bounced over to the truck, her blonde hair swinging slightly as she skipped.

“All I said was that it might be useful to have her interact with kids her own age before you throw her into a school, which for the record, I still think is a dumbass idea Frank.” “Input noted and duly ignored…” Frank rolled his eyes “She needs to go to school. Have some kind of variant on a normal childhood.”

Roberta took a deep breath and simply shrugged “On your head be it.”

“Come on Frank!” Mary shouted, standing up on the ledge of the truck “we’re gonna be late!”

“It’s 20 minutes tops to Pinellas Park…” Frank looked at her “We got half an hour, chill out Stack”

“My name’s Mary not Short Stack…” she sing songed back.

“Don’t I know it…” Frank said, looking at her before he turned back to Roberta “I’ll see you later.”

“Hmmm” she nodded, and with that he rolled his eyes again and headed to the truck.

“You know you’re not actually gonna get to ride anything today right?” he asked, turning to his niece.

“No, but I’m still gonna see the ponies.” she said, smiling. “Why can’t we bring Fred?”

“Because a horse might step on him.” Frank said, before he paused. “Actually, shall we take him?” Mary narrowed her eyes at him “That’s mean.” He chuckled, ruffled her hair and started up the truck. **** “Ok, now soften your outside hand…” Fliss called out across the paddock, as the woman riding the tall, black warmblood circled her “Yeah, you feel that. He’s taking the contact now, not leaning against your hand. So when you feel that softening, that’s when you need to push with your inside leg…and if is he isn’t listening a soft tap up with the stick…” She watched again from behind her Oakley wraparounds, smiling as the horse extended nicely down the long side of the school.

“Yeah, there you go!” she shouted encouragingly, “Now bring him round again and this time at the corner, pop him into canter…” She took a quick glance at her watch. She was running slightly behind, but what else was new? She would never leave a lesson, regardless, until her client had achieved something, even if it was what they dubbed a small victory. End on a high was her motto, and this was no different. Ever since Lucy had brought Captain out of his stable, Fliss could see the horse was in one of his awkward moods so she’d had to switch out her plan a little. It had worked and he’d settled after about 15 minutes of being an obstinate shit and he was working quite nicely.

“Good!” She shouted, pacing slightly “Now let’s see if we can extend this a little…” Lucy sat up tall, pushed through her legs and the horse bounded down the side. Fliss grinned, less than 6 months ago Lucy hadn’t even been able to keep the horse in a trot, now here she was producing an extended canter. Moments like this made her job so worthwhile…

“Ok, bring him back down…” she said, “And into trot…and walk…”

Fliss headed over to her client and smiled as she walked along side her “That was really good Luce…you happy?” “I’m over the moon!” The teenager grinned “I can’t believe it…he went so well!”

“Yeah because you rode him well.” Fliss smiled “You know, I seriously think you should consider a Dressage Competition.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, I do. I know you don’t have a horse of your own but you can borrow Cap if you want…have a think about it.” “I will, thanks Fliss.”

Fliss smiled, gave the horse a pat and headed back to the gate.

“Joanne?” she called, and one of her grooms appeared. “Can you just supervise Lucy cooling him off. I’ve got someone bringing their daughter in at 11 am that should be here any time soon.”

“Sure.” Joanne nodded “Oh, they back barn has been mucked out but I’ve not had chance to scrub the water buckets out.” “It’s ok, you can do it after lunch” Fliss nodded. “the automatics are getting installed in a month or so which should make it a little easier.”

She patted Joanne on the shoulder and made her way into the office. Reaching for a file she dug out a Registration Form and a Liability Waiver and set them on the desk before she took a quick glance in the mirror. Satisfied that her auburn hair was tamed and there was no hay stick in it she nodded to herself and walked back on the yard, just in time to see a tall, well build dark haired man desperately trying to control a blonde haired girl who was looking around in glee and pointing.

“Hi…” she walked over, momentarily stuck by how damned good looking this guy was. He was dressed simply in a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt which perfectly accentuated his tone upper body. His chiselled jawline which was covered in a short, stubbled beard, soft spikey dark hair, and he flashed her a smile that made the corners of his aviator covered eyes crinkle. A smile that made her clear her throat. “I’m Fliss, you must be Mr Adler.”

Frank looked at the woman in front of him, glad that his glasses hid the fact he was blatantly eyeing her up and down. Dressed in a pair of long riding boots, tight navy blue jodhpurs with a white belt around the top, and an equally tight pink polo shirt he could see every curve she possessed. But it was the smile she flashed him that made him feel like some kind of teenage school kid again, and if he was honest the British accent was kind of a turn on too. It wasn’t the usual, posh one he associated with Evelyn, it was a little gruffer, but still enthralling.

“Frank, please.” he held out his hand, which she took in a surprisingly strong grip. “Nice to meet you Frank.” Fliss smiled before releasing him and turning to Mary “And what can I call you Miss?” “Mary.” she said, looking up “Are all these horses yours?”

Fliss chuckled. “No not all of them. 8 belong to me. 2 are my personal ones, then I have 6 that work in the riding school and the other 6 are boarders.” “Oh.” she said, looking around. “So which one can I ride.” “Mary…” Frank chastised her softly as he looked down at her, before glancing back at Fliss “Sorry, she’s excited.” Fliss laughed and shook her head “It’s fine, I love to see it.”

She turned to Mary and then in an exaggerated whisper so that Frank could hear said “I’ll let you into a secret, I always put the new kids on Monty because he’s awesome and looks after everyone…and he especially likes girls. He’s a ladies man. You wanna meet him?” Mary nodded eagerly and Fliss looked up at Frank, seeking his permission. He nodded and gestured with his head and she straightened up before leading Mary across the yard to the barn on the opposite side.

Frank stayed where he was for a moment, watching her ass as she walked before he mentally slapped himself and followed.

@the-omni-princess @momobaby227 @geekofmanythings16 @angelofhell-666 @thewackywriter @marvelfansworld @cobalt-gear @asgardlover75 @jennmurawski13 @jtargaryen18 @saiyanprincessswanie @navispalace @patzammit @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @icanfeelastormbrewing @djeniiscorner @ayamenimthiriel @coldmuffinbanditshoe @disneylovingal @madzmilllz @sgtjaamesbaarnes @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @southerngracela @goldenfightergir @kellymat @official-and-unstable-satan

#riding high #frank adler x ofc #frank adler #gifted #gifted fan fic

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redclaysoul · 6 years

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I’m a sucker for camo. Well done, @aviatebrand #aviate #aviatebrand #trucker #camo #bhm #birmingham #hat #cap

#trucker #hat #aviate #bhm #camo #aviatebrand #birmingham #cap

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morfiction · 4 years

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Is this a better beginning?

ON THE ROAD

Bleach stood at the side of long, paved road which winded its way from the west to the far eastern horizon. He held his hand out with his thump up and waved it while he looked expectantly to either side. He was hitching a ride, something Grampah warned him against never, ever, doing. When Bleach asked him what it was, Grampah showed him how.

Sometimes, adults were funny that way. That you were always told not to do something, but they did it anyway. Grampah could of hitched a ride lots of times, but he never did. So far, Grampah needn't worry; nobody was coming, anyway.

Funny how somebody built this road and they never used it. I wonder why? How could this road possibly be here and not be used?

Could they perhaps not know it was here? That would be impossible!

As he thought these things, he walked. The ground beneath his feet is hard and firm, radiating a mysterious heat through the thin soles of his shoes. He liked the feel of it, a complete contrast to the soft, wet grass and filthy mud which drastically changed with each foot step. The road is resolute. It goes straight ahead and around a corner, exactly where he's headed. He knows not who put it here and for what purpose is completely inconceivable to him. He stared at his feet, marveling at how they moved. One foot lifted itself from the ground, moved forward, lowered itself to the ground, and the other advanced ahead of its brother. Right foot forward, left, right, left, right... He envied them, they knew how to walk. He knew nothing, but they knew how to walk. He looked ahead of himself to see where his smart feet were taking him. He stopped.

After waiting a full hour, he sits down in frustration and slowly falls asleep. He lies there, undisturbed, in a dreamless slumber. He begins to snore.

Much later, he begins to have nightmares. He dreams that Grinlab climbs out of the gaping mouth of the volcanic mountain, Devalcrag, and stares down at him menacingly. The little creature which had shot at him while he sleeps now dances about his feet, about the size of an insect, and stabs him continually in the ankle with a sword the size of sewing needle. He stomps it with his bare foot and the giant does the same to him.

He wakes with a start and hears the same chugging, whistling, popping sound he had heard the day his mother died coming from the west. He looks that way and sees a cloud of dust and glint of steel, coming closer every second. He jumps behind a boulder and hides.

He peeked out from behind the rock and saw an eccentric looking old man in peculiar clothes pull up in a bizarre, metallic vehicle. He slowed down to a crawl and called out in a voice has somehow gaspy, friendly, and, some how, as Grampah used to put it, with A-MAN-OF-THE-WORLD's tone ("I've been all over the world, and, boy, the tales I can tell...") all wrapped into one, "Hey, you there! Hop in the wagon and you climb in front with if you want a ride! I can't spot this damned thing on a dime, y'know!!!"

Well, almost.

Bleach did as he was told. At least, the man did gasp. And with good reason: a miniature chimney was attached to the front of his contraption and it gave off grayish-black smoke which blew directly in his face. He decided to trust the guy. Surely, somebody as peculiar as this couldn't be of any harm to associate with. Could he? He shouldered his backpack by both straps and jogged alongside of the wagon and leapt in. He landed heavily on a large pile of coal which filled the wagon halfway. This must be the power source, he thought. The wagon was hitched to the back of the odd machine by a short length of chain. Bleach hopped over that gap lightly and landed on the seat right next to the old man.

"Graceful, ain't 'cha?" the old man asked almost casually. He wore a leather aviator's cap with his white hair protruding out the front over his fore head like a small fan. Because of the exhaust, his hair was almost black at the tips and his bushy side burns were white. His face was creased in many places and he had crow's feet around his eyes, which made him look very old, but the eyes themselves were bluer and more lucid than those of any one any fraction of his age could possibly be. Worldly. Like Grampah, we wore horn-rimmed glasses with wire frames, which occasionally got all sooty so he had to clean them with a dirty handkerchief while he drove with his elbows---which he was doing at the moment.

He wore a red-and-white, candy cane-striped scarf which he wrapped around his neck twice and flapped in the breeze. Besides these things, his dress was not too different than that of the common blacksmith, complete with brown apron with the pockets filled with tools. He wore a leather belt which was buckled over top of the apron he had a pair of utilitarian boots which have appeared to have been torn and repaired and then torn again a great deal times, considering the various stitches on them.

The man held out a gloved hand, his left, and shook Bleach's from across his body. "My name's Athens Ford. And this, my friend is My Marvelous Machine. I invented it. I'm going to display it at the circus. What do you think, my lad? Isn't just a simply wonderful machine?" Athens smiled with teeth whiter and straighter than Bleach would expected in the mouth of such and old man. A little spark of light glinted off of one tooth, creating a peculiar sense of goodwill, actually making the smile seem even more benevolent than it otherwise would of been. Then, Athens upper row of teeth popped out of his mouth and fell in his lap. Bleach blinked. Where there had been healthy teeth a second ago, there was only pink gums in Athen's open mouth. "Oops!" said the toothless old man. He plucked his teeth out of his lap, blew on the them to get the crud off which might of accumulated on them, and put them back in his mouth. "Sorry. It's these dang dentures of mine! They keep falling out!"

Bleach was astonished. At first, he had been absolutely terrified by the sound of the oncoming machine. He had thought that the malevolent machine which had killed his mother and all of the trees in the Forest of Tears so many years ago had finally returned to finish the job by killing him, too. Then, he saw this strange little man roll by in this thing which he calls his "Marvelous Machine" and he could only wonder what else could possibly happen to him. The machine at first resembled a wagon or a horseless carriage made out of steel and other metals, with large, wooden cartwheels which were three or four feet in diameter and were just as tall as his hip. The seat which they sat abreast of each other on was comfortable and well-padded, in fact, it was actually and old sofa which was bolted down by the feet to keep it in place. Athens steered it with a "wheel" made out of the iron loop of a barrel and wore tough, leather gloves to protect his hands from getting cut by any sharp edges he hadn't already sanded out. The workmanship was admirable, although it was by no means perfect. Here and there, along the body, there were dents from a misplaced swing of a hammer. It was painted a noxious shade of green, almost florescent, and, along the sides, "MARVELOUS MACHINE" was written in bright yellow. On the hood, a large stencil of three balloons (one blue, a red one, and the last was purple) were drawn with their strings tied together and held in a disembodied hand. To the right of the balloon-holding hand, there was a clown's smiling face with gaudy make-up on it and it wore an orange wig.

Athens Ford was obviously a very pretentious man. Having gotten the idea of taking his invention to be shown off at a circus, he had gone to the trouble of actually making it looked it already was part of one. If he had been rejected by the circus's manager, Bleach had the feeling that he might continue to stubbornly insist that they needed him, that, after a while, they would come to him and beg on their hands and knees for forgiveness and so on until the poor man finally knuckled under and let Athens join up just so that he'd shut up about his damned machine's potential for earning the circus money. He had to admit, Athens could be just as tenacious at bartering with those show biz types, may even more so, as he'd expected him to be.

Athens was saying, "---do you really like it? I modeled after the Little Engine that could. All my life, no matter what task had been set before me, I tackled it with the same determination and courage as that danged little sucker in my favorite story. He'd always say, `I think I can, I think I can,' and, you know what? He did! If you think you can do something, you will. If you don't, you won't. All ya gotta do is try!" He smiled again, this time with only his lips so his teeth wouldn't fall out again. After a second, he showed a little bit of teeth, then returned his attention to the road ahead.

Bleach asked him, "How does it work?"

At that, Athens Ford stomped his foot hard on a pedal and threw back a metal lever. The Marvelous Machine all at once came to a screeching halt, and Bleach was thrown forward into the dashboard by the momentum. They hadn't been going too fast at all, but, if they were, he might of been tossed right out of his seat and collided head-first into the hot chimney and burned himself very badly. That was a close one!

"Why, I'll do better than tell you how it works, I'll show you! Come with me!" Athens jumped out of his seat onto the floor and landed as gingerly as a small child would of. Bleach did the same, but tripped on his own two feet and fell headlong into the dust. Athens was standing around the front of the vehicle, waving impatiently at Bleach in the manner of a child, eager to show a discovery to an adult, but too impatient for them to move in their own pace. In fact, the same impatience with which Bleach had acted with Granpa so long ago over the argument about a towel. Dismayed, Bleach pushes up off the floor and hobbles painfully around his side until he stands next to Athens.

Athens opens the hood of his car, revealing complex array of mechanics which would take a child as young Bleach or an old man like his grandfather a great deal of curmudegoning to understand. Athens points out the parts as he goes along. "This is a design of mine, the external combustion engine. I'm currently drawing up plans for an internal combustion engine, but I can't find the right materials to use. I once obtained a special elixir from a tradesman in Nistau who said that it was a nearly purified form of the stuff in the Black Tide. He said if I would invest in his wares, he may someday, with my help, find a way to actually purify that entire ocean's putrid toxins for abundant drinking water. Of course, that all was so much poppy cock, but I've found that the elixir is surprisingly flammable. Now, follow me. This engine is powered by two different cycles. First, I heat the water by burning the coal, the boiled water makes steam. Second, the steam passes through the turbines, creating motion.

"Of course, you can see that it would not be a very good idea if I kept boiling and boiling a great deal of water, over, and over, and over again. That would be all fine and dandy if I lived near a major body of water and always followed along it, but that would be both ridiculous and impossible as I've already said that there is none abundant enough for this task. In fact, most people get their water from cactus-es or reconstituted whatever. So, using the process of---" said Athens in a lecturing tone of voice used by many pompous and brilliant people alike. The question is, what is the difference?

"Distillation," said Bleach. When it came right down to it, he actually knew a great deal about how machines worked, after all. He knew of distillation because that was how the people in the City of Eden had kept the water in their bath house so pure, from distilled hot spring water.

"Right!" said Athens. He applauded Bleach, literally clapping his hands together. Not knowing what was expected of him, Bleach bowed. "This tube, here, leaves the engine after the vapor has passed through the turbines, then goes down, along the bottom of the car," said Athens, trailing the tubing exactly and even climbing underneath his contraption, "this prevent the steam from re-entering the engine immediately. It goes up here, into this chamber underneath the seat where it is cooled by a mechanical bellows. The bellows are powered by each rotation of the rear-left wheel, see? The liquid is then pumped back into the engine. I guess you could say that my design is almost as efficient as the human body. The bellows are beating heart, the water is the engine's life blood which is continually recycled throughout the cycle. No haste makes waste." Athens started to breath deeply, both because he'd talked himself hoarse and also because he could tell that Bleach needed some time to let this all sink in.

As a child, he had been anguished by the way mechanical giant Grinlab had destroyed first the Licanthos forest, then his own mother, with out even a trace of emotion. Its face showed no trace of the characteristics of a creature which had a conscience. It had worked its evil deeds without mercy or a moment of pause. If it had expressed pleasure, grinning insanely as it chopped its great ax into the flesh of each tree, he would of felt a touch of disgust as well as fear. If it had re-directed its fury on the millions of animals which it displaced from their homes and even then were attacking it on all sides to no avail, he would of also been outraged. As it was, Grinlab was oblivious to the misery it was causing to all of those living things. If it felt the slightest twinge of pain as the birds pecked at its knees or the lion's teeth upon its arms or coils of a boa constrictor around its neck, it didn't respond in the least bit.

Once, after it had been completely overrun by beasts so that, to Bleach, it looked as they were all posing for some odd living sculpture only a complete genius or a lunatic would conceive and only hope of accomplishing. A living heap of inhuman creatures, of the entirety of life besides our own, all writhing together in an orgy of ferocious violence as if they all planned to fight to death so that only one of them would stand victorious among a hideous slaughter to proclaim itself the rightful King of the Jungle. A bizarre thought, but, with that most inhuman and conscious-less mechanical wonder absolutely covered from head to toe by the beasts which attacked it, that was the only conclusion you could make. Then, every single creature screamed in agony and left of their prey, fleeing in every possible direction. Some died and fell in a lifeless pile around Grinlab and others were trampled to death by the escaping menagerie. When they all were gone, Grinlab stood there shining even brighter than the Suns themselves with an incandescent yellow light for a few seconds.

When it had finished, it spit out an crude, black liquid on the heap of corpses which was the exact color with which the entire then-blue Pax-Atlantic Ocean would become in a year's time. It sparked once more and all of those dead creatures were burned in a huge, ring-shaped bonfire with Grinlab standing in the middle with a expressionless face. Afterward, after the fires subsided, it plowed through a wall of ash and set back to its work as if nothing at all had happened. No counter-attack, no murder, nothing. As if it hadn't even stopped doing what it was doing all of this time to defend itself. Most of all, it didn't show any regret whatsoever.

If a machine could do all of these things, carry out a single-minded task such as destroy the Forest of Tears completely and indiscriminately and efficiently dispose of whatever obstacles stood in its way, then leave once it's mission had been completed; Bleach could accept such mindless destruction even though it had so traumatized the rest of his life. However, to sit here and find out that a man like Athens Ford, an inventor, could create such a thing in the name of science and discovery of their own potential for creating "life" out of something which never lived was too much. Sure, Athens probably didn't make that horrific thing which haunted his dreams with the murder of his own mother, but the facts still stated that he could of been. Could of made something like it and sold it to some insidious person who then sent it on such a destructive rampage. That was unthinkable. And unforgivable.

Then again, looking into the wonder-lust in the man's eyes which would of been more appropriate in a child of, well, Bleach's age or younger, rather than the spectacled eyes of a man perhaps sixty or eighty years old. It was a look which seemed fundamentally out of place but strangely reassuring in its presence. He was used to seeing older folk with a contented, happy look in their eyes and faces, who always seemed to be smiling confidently no matter what happened as if it had happened to them a million times before in earlier years and they were used to it.

He had even seen those of the perpetually ill or disadvantaged who always seemed to be in some kind of excruciating pain but were too proud to cry out in agony. Those people looked at him, with his youth and dependably functional body, with aether an odd measure of envy or mild disgust. Such health is wasted on the young, is a thought he perceived of them thinking each time he saw that particular look.

But, worst of all, he had seen the eyes of the tragically old and wretched. Their eyes were too glassy, too pathetic, the hound-dog expression a dog would use to beg of its master for a treat. There was no clarity in those people's eyes, just a lost, sad expression. As if no cognizant thoughts rattled inside their heads except endless rhetorical question for which they had long-ago forgotten the answers: Where am I? Who are those people? Who am I? What am I doing here? Why can't I remember anything? This was the way he had always perceived babies, but at least babies have their entire lives ahead of them while the elderly have lived their entire lives but have forgotten every nuance of them.

Even though Athens Ford looked old, he didn't act like it, and thus left the impression that he had never been old for a single second in his entire life. The same way Bleach was only a decade old, but acted way too mature for his age.

He had grown up quickly, during the course of five years, after his mother died. That was when he had lost the greatest piece of his faith in the world he lived in: the belief that his mother would always be there for him, no matter what happened or what he did to disappoint her. She had said all of that herself, with him sitting in her lap and enfolded in her loving arms as he cried and cried and cried. She said that when he was a baby and continued to say it every day, for five straight years. The last time she had said it was the morning before her death.

Bleach blinked a couple of times, rubbed the tears from his eyes, and saw Athens looking at him. Before he could speak, Athens winked an eye at him. He had no business knowing about what ails him so. Just a simple moment of nostalgia for things past. If he felt like talking about it, Athens would listen.

Bleach took a moment to collect himself, then spoke. "Alright, so you're saying that this thing is powered by steam, right? You just boil the water, then boil it again. So I assume this also eliminates the problem of having to carry around a cumbersome supply of fresh water whoever you go. All you have to drink is the distilled water which comes out of your machine, right?"

Athens took his cap off of his head and slapped it hard against one knee. "Well, yes'sir that's just about right! Except for the fact that, having gone through all that there dirty smoke, the dang water tastes so gawd-awful that I'd rather die of dehydration than drink the foul stuff. When making drinking water I make of point of getting a big kettle, fill that with water, then distill it with some tubes into pot sitting in nearby stream to cool it. Throw out the crud in the bottom of the kettle, then fill it back up with the same water. I distill it, screen out the impurities, then distill it again for about an hour before I drink it, then keep the stuff in a canteen. But at least you know some of the fundamentals. I 'spect you used ta live in that dang City of Eatin' with all their new-fangled ideas on how to do things, but they stole their process from me!"

Bleach stood there for a moment, shocked by this insight, but then began to laugh. Just then, for only a brief second, he had no idea what he was talking about, then he remembered. The City of Eden. The place he had lived for almost nine full years of his life. He had been displaced for so long that he had actually forgotten his own routes. He had also forgotten the fact that he had a brother, but that idea wasn't as funny as the other. He felt a little ashamed of himself, but the grief he felt was perfunctory. He really never had a chance to know his own brother, they had been apart for most of their lives. Now, he was the only one left of his line and the only surviving citizen of the City know that it had been destroyed. He had no faith that at least one other person had managed to escape before hand. Nobody ever left there by their own volition. It was paradise.

"So, kiddo?" said Athens. He was leaning over on the closed hood of his Marvelous Machine, arms folded, looking down at Bleach with casual impatience. "Got any more ideas ya want'ta throw my way? Well?"

Bleach blurted out the first thing he could think of: "The smoke!" Athens rolled his eyes a little and raised an eyebrow. "You could, um, do something so it wouldn't be, uh, chugging out a lot of smoke in your face all of the time. Maybe you could... do something about that? Right?" He said, hating himself for sounding so stupid.

Athens slapped his hand across his forehead in that timeless gesture. "You know, you are right! Perhaps I can divert it instead out the back instead in the front? Yeah! That would be a great idea! It'll make it a heck of a lot safer to maneuver the contraption without the smoke making my eyes all fuzzy! I wonder why I didn't think of it myself! I always said you kids had more initiative than us old fogies. Not as much brains, mind you, but more initiative," he said, more to himself than to Bleach. He held a hand out across the hood, Bleach shook it, and he took two running steps to the back of the car to fetch a tool box.

Bleach just stood there, silent. He put his hands in pockets, shook his head, then slowly got back in the contraption and sat on his side of the seat while the inventor set to work on the necessary modifications. He didn't bother trying to tell Athens the fact that, yes, while it may be a little easier on them, it would also be inconsiderate of them to blow all of their smoke in the faces of people he were traveling behind them. He had a feeling Athens wouldn't even care. He was engrossed in work at the moment to even consider a flaw in his plans.

Half an hour later, chugging along contentedly like the Little Engine That Could which Athens he had spoken of earlier, they came to the chaired remains of the sign post which he had watched Joe McDougle and his cohorts burn the night before. Bleach recognized the place because of the fence which went along of to one side. That, and the fact the was a small pile of dung, covered with buzzing flies, in the spot where Joe's horse had "went."

Surprisingly, it and the other horses hadn't spooked at the sight of the fire. It seemed they were as used to the sight as they were of the strange ways that their masters had dressed.

Athens was furious. He fumed with anger and spat out a string of foul words, one after the other, so quick that Bleach couldn't even understand what he was saying but was certain that whatever they were, they weren't the kind of words you would use to address an elder with. He just pointed in the right direction, the one he had seen the sign pointing toward before it was set on fire.

Athens asked him if he was sure that was the way they had to go? He said he was, and Athens headed off in that direction. He didn't ask Bleach how he knew the way and Bleach didn't even try to explain to him. It didn't matter. Athens wanted to know the way and Bleach had told him. Nothing more, nothing less.

It occurred to Bleach, looking back on the events on the previous night, that there was a very thin line between a zealot and a nihilist. One had faith in the continued proof in favor of their beliefs and the other was just as dependent in the refuting of that proof. One was as dependent on those proves as the other was dependent on the lack of those things.

As far as Bleach was concerned, his loss in faith was both an omen of disaster to come and a welcome comfort.

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