Südengland 2023 - Tag 20

Ladies and Gentleman!  

Heute klingelt der Wecker schon um 7.30 Uhr. Wir wollen uns sputen, denn es geht für uns ganz in den West der Insel. Nach etwa einer Stunde erreichen wir den Parkplatz “The Needles” (Kosten 6 £) oberhalb der Alum Bay.

Noch ist genügend Platz, aber das wird sich im Verlaufe des Vormittags noch drastisch ändern.

Von dort führt ein ein 1,2 Kilometer langer asphaltierter und ausgeschilderte Klippenweg vom Parkplatz zum Gelände der Batteries. An einem klaren Tag wie heute ist die Aussicht schlichtweg nur grandios.

Diese historischen Verteidigungsanlagen unterstehen dem National Trust und bestehen aus zwei Teilen: der Needles Old Battery und der Needles New Battery.

Wir beginnen die Besichtigung mit der Old Battery, einer viktorianischen Kanonenbatterie, die an die äußersten Westspitze der Isle of Wight gebaut wurde.

Als in den 1860er Jahren die Gefahr eines Krieges mit Frankreich drohte, startete der britische Premierminister Lord Palmerston ein ehrgeiziges Programm zum Ausbau der Seeverteidigung des Landes.

Einer der Schlüssel zu Palmerstons Plan war die Verteidigung der Marinewerften in Portsmouth auf der Nordseite des Solent-Kanals.

Die windgepeitschte Landzunge an der äußersten Westspitze der Isle of Wight war ideal positioniert, um die westliche Zufahrt zum Solent zu verteidigen.

Also wurde auf den Felsen über den Needles Rocks und dem Leuchtturm eine Geschützbatterie und ein Aussichtspunkt errichtet. Die Batterie wurde durch einen tiefen Graben auch vor landseitigen Angriffen verteidigt.

Innerhalb der Mauern befinden sich zwei Kommandoposten und ein unterirdischer Tunnel, der zu einer vorderen Suchscheinwerferstellung führt, die in die Felswand mit Blick auf die Nadeln gebaut wurde.

Es gab Unterkünfte für 21 Mann unter dem Kommando von 2 Unteroffizieren und einem Offizier, mit einem Labor, Lagergebäuden und einem Magazin.

Trinkwasser war aufgrund der abgelegenen Lage eine Herausforderung, daher wurde Wasser in Regentonnen gesammelt. Die Batterie war nur in Notzeiten besetzt. Die restliche Zeit lebte nur ein “Master Gunner” auf dem Gelände, und man kann die Überreste seines Hausfundaments direkt vor dem Batterieeingang sehen.

Die Batterie war mit 6 7-Zoll Rifled Breech Loader-Kanonen bewaffnet, aber nach nur einem Jahrzehnt wurden diese durch Vorderlader-Kanonen ersetzt.

Größere 9-Zoll-Mündungsladegeschütze wurden 1893 installiert, diese wurden 1903 ebenfalls wieder außer Dienst gestellt.

Die französische Invasion, die Palmerston befürchtete, kam allerdings nie zustande, und die Reihe von Forts, die gebaut wurden, um der Bedrohung entgegenzuwirken, wurde als “Palmerston's Follies” verspottet.

Obwohl die französische Bedrohung nicht zustande kam, blieb die Batterie sowohl im Ersten als auch im Zweiten Weltkrieg im Einsatz. Als sich der Erste Weltkrieg abzeichnete, wurde auf dem Exerzierplatz ein Flugabwehrgeschütz installiert.

Besucher können dem unterirdischen Tunnel in die Kreidefelsen folgen und finden die Scheinwerferstellung. Die Aussicht hoch über den Needles-Felsen ist spektakulär und an klaren Tagen kann man sogar bis nach Dorset sehen!

Die vielschichtige Geschichte der Batterie wird in einer Reihe atmosphärischer Räume zum Leben erweckt, die zeigen, wie es war, hier zu arbeiten. Animierte Cartoons des Comiczeichners Geoff Campion veranschaulichen die Rolle, die die Militärbasis auch in der Geschichte des modernen Großbritanniens spielte.

Auf dem Exerzierplatz stehen zwei originale Geschütze, wenn auch auf nachgebauten Geschützlafetten. Alle Geschütze wurden wieder aus dem Meer geborgen, wo man sie vor Jahrzehnten einfach hinein warf und entsorgte.  

Hoch oben auf einer Klippe gelegen, bietet der Exerzierplatz spektakuläre Ausblicke auf die Needles Rocks. Mit verschiedenen Ausstellungen, Teestube und zwei Lehrpfaden ist für jeden etwas dabei.  

Für die Besichtigung sind zur Zeit 7,50 £ pro Person fällig. Mitglieder des National Trust haben natürlich freien Eintritt. Diese Besichtigung ist nicht durch die Engish Heritage Karte abgegolten.

An bestimmten Tagen gibt es Führungen von Historikern. Eine Anmeldung ist nicht erforderlich. Treffpunkt ist für alle Interessierten an dem Hinweisschild im Hof.

Wie bestellt zieht plötzlich eine historische Spitfire über den Needles ihre Kreise.

Direkt oberhalb der Old Battery befindet sich die Needles New Battery, die 1895 gebaut wurde. Man befürchtete, dass noch größere Kanonen an der Old Battery die Klippen zum Einsturz bringen könnten. Sie sind fünf stramme Geh-Minuten steil bergauf/bergab voneinander entfernt.

1918, nach dem 1. Weltkrieg, in den “Dornröschenschlaf” versetzt, wurde die  New Battery für den Zweiten Weltkrieg wieder reaktiviert. Die Batterie war mit 3 9,2-Zoll-Hinterladekanonen bewaffnet, die jeweils massive Granaten mit einem Gewicht von jeweils 380 Pfund abfeuerten.

Wenig überraschend, dass jede Waffe eine Besatzung von 11 Mann erforderte! Unterirdische Magazine versorgten die Geschützstellungen und ein Gefechtsstand stand höher oben auf dem Abgrund.

Die Jahre 1956 bis 1971 waren jedoch die aufregendsten Jahre für die New Battery.

The Needles New Battery beheimatet die wenig bekannte Geschichte von Großbritanniens „Race for Space“ (Wettlauf um den Weltraum) im Kalten Krieg.

Hier auf der Isle of Wight wurden die Raketen unter strengster Geheimhaltung getestet, bevor man sie zum Start nach Woomera in Südaustralien verschiffte.

Es wurden zwei unterirdische Räume verwendet, die durch einen Tunnel verbunden waren. In diesem geheimen Komplex arbeiteten Wissenschaftler an Raketen wie Black Knight und Black Arrow sowie dem Weltraumsatelliten Prospero.

Die Raketen basierten auf den deutschen Raketen des Zweiten Weltkriegs und bildeten die Grundlage für das spätere amerikanische Raketenprogramm.  

Besucher können mehr über die interessante Geschichte erfahren und das unterirdische Museum besuchen, zusammen mit dem besten Blick auf The Needles am Aussichtspunkt.

Bis 1975 übernahm der National Trust die Needles Old and New Battery zusammen mit dem umliegenden Downland. Die unterirdischen Räume wurden 2004 der Öffentlichkeit zugänglich gemacht - sie sind aber nur an bestimmten Tagen geöffnet.

Die Kammern wurden renoviert, um zu zeigen, wie die Tests durchgeführt wurden und wie das Leben der Wissenschaftler verlief, die hier an den streng geheimen Projekten beteiligt waren.

Diese Besichtigung ist erstaunlicherweise kostenfrei.  

Mehrere Pfade rund um die New und Old Batteries führen zu Aussichtspunkten mit Blick auf die Needles Rocks und den ikonischen rot-weiß gestreiften Leuchtturm an der Westspitze der Klippen.

Der erste Leuchtturm am westlichen Eingang zum Solent wurde 1786 errichtet. Leider führte die Höhe der Klippen dazu, dass das Licht oft in Dunst und Nebel gehüllt war und somit für die Schifffahrt nicht sichtbar war.

Das wurde 1859 korrigiert, als der heutige Leuchtturm an der äußersten Westspitze der Needles Rocks gebaut wurde. Der Leuchtturm ist 33,5 Meter hoch. Es war über 100 Jahre lang bemannt und wurde erst 1994 vollständig automatisiert. 1987 wurde ein Hubschrauberlandeplatz darauf gebaut.

Wir laufen zurück zu unserem Auto und fahren einmal um die Ecke zur Warren Farm. Die Farm bietet einen Tea Garden und einen Hofladen.

Die Farm liegt etwa 800 m Luftlinie östlich von den Needles. Es ist auch nicht weit zum Küstenpfad und der Tea Garden ist an jedem Eingang zum Weidegebiet gut ausgeschildert.  

Die Hauptgeschäft ist jedoch die Rinderherde. Das Vieh der Farm weidet auf der Tennyson Down des National Trust.  

Die Kühe sind eine Kreuzung aus Aberdeen Angus- und Hereford-Kühen. Die Mütter behalten ihre Kälber etwa 9 Monate bei sich, bevor die Kälber abgesetzt werden.

Die Kälber werden dann etwa 2-3 Jahre lang ausschließlich mit Gras ernährt (kein Getreide,  Mais oder Soja erlaubt!), bevor sie als Rindfleisch verkauft werden.  

Der Hofladen bietet eine kleine Auswahl an Produkten und Geschenken aus der Region: Fleisch, Käse, Milch und Eier von der Isle of Wight sowie das eigene Farm-Rindfleisch.

Die Preise für den hauseigenen Steak-Pie empfanden wir mit 4,50 £ als sehr moderat.

Bei diesem fantastischen Wetter ist natürlich auch im Wasser und an den Stränden jede Menge los.

Yachten werden vorgeführt, Speedboote ausgefahren und besonders hat uns die holländische Gruppe Oldtimer mit ihren Vauxhall Autos gefallen.

Good Night

Angie, Micha und Mister Bunnybear (Hasenbär)

⚜️🌷Finding lost things with astrology help🌷⚜️

Did you know that astrology can help to find lost things? If your ring, keys, or even phone are missing, you better keep reading because I will tell you how to find them🤍

The moment when you realize that you have lost something is the most important because the question is “born”. Check your time and place when you acknowledge that you lost something. Then go to Astro.com or your other preferred website, and create a new chart with the information about your lost item.

When the chart is created, you can now start the investigation haha.

1. You need to find a planet that represents your lost item.

Sun - gold items, things in yellow, orange color. Something that belongs to the father or husband. Batteries. Sunglasses.

Moon - silver items. Something that belongs to the wife or mother. Feminine products. Food, cooking utensils (except sharp things).

Mercury - documents, paper, journals, pens/pencils, notes, books, letters, homework, library card. Things that are related to education/studies. Bicycle, car. Keys.

Venus - cosmetics, jewelry, clothes (except shoes and belts). Money. Fluffy and soft things. Sweets.

Mars - sharp items (knife, scissors, knitting needles, etc). Things in red color. Warming and metal items. Sport inventory. Things related to the military.

Jupiter - big items. Something very expensive and valuable. Items in purple color. Encyclopedia, thick books. Notes from lectures. Souveniers, things that have been brought from a foreign land. Glasses/lenses.

Saturn - solid, heavy, or cold items. Things in black color. Leather items. Something old. Shoes, belts. Measuring devices, crystals. Watch.

Uranus - Technology, phone, camera, chargers. Parachute. High/long items. Things related to science, electricity.

Neptune - music, photography, headphones. Liquids (perfumes, alcohol, chemicals). Medicine. Harmful substances like cigarettes and drugs.

Pluto (used rarely) - very specific things, video-making technology.

If you have no idea which planet can represent your lost item, use 2nd house. It's universal because it rules over our belongings.

Now that you know which planet represents your item, check the house placement.

If you are sure that the item is lost in your house then use this interpretation:

1st house -> near the entrance door, in outwear pockets, corridor.

2nd house -> near personal belongings (ex. Jewelry box, etc.), kitchen.

3rd house -> on the table, in drawers, near documents. In a place where the most communication happens.

4th house -> on the floor, in the basement, under the bed or carpet, in the dining room, in parents/grandparents room.

5th house -> children’s room, living room, entertainment area, near children’s toys.

6th house -> working area, utility room.

7th house -> bedroom, near partners belongings.

8th house -> in a trash can, in a dirty place, in sewerage.

9th house -> studying area, on a bookshelf, balcony, terrace, next to souvenirs.

10th house -> in a high place, attic, on closet.

11th house -> guests room, next to the window, on the windowsill.

12th house -> in a dark place, behind something, furthest room, bathroom, pool.

If you are sure that the lost item isn't at your house, then use this interpretation:

1st house -> somewhere near your home, near the entrance door.

2nd house -> place where was the payment made, atm.

3rd house -> car, in public transport, kindergarten, street, at your neighbor or siblings' place.

4th house -> in your parents/grandparents' place, your other property.

5th house -> in the entertainment place, restaurant, nightclub, at the exhibition.

6th house -> in the workplace, hospital, salon.

7th house -> the item is with another person. Possibly stolen.

8th house -> garbage that isn't in your house, in the cemetery, in the toilets, in the forest/woods.

9th house -> in an educational institution, in another country, airport, airplane, hotel.

10th house -> at the workplace with authorities/bosses, in state authority.

11th house -> in a friend's house, in a place where collective events occur.

12th house (saddest placement lol) -> the item is hopelessly lost, fallen into the crowd of people, and probably will not be found.

Stelliums with the item’s rulership planet are important!! It tells what else is next to the lost thing.

If the rulership planet is next to:

Sun - item is covered, hard to see. Hidden.

Moon - next to the item is something “alive”, a pet’s sleeping spot, flowers/plants, toddlers playing area.

Mercury - next to the item is something related to communication, letters, documents, papers, small electric devices.

Venus - next to the item is something beautiful, clothes, jewelry, painting. Next to something fluffy and soft.

Mars - next to the item is something red, metallic, sports inventory, working tools.

Jupiter - next to the item is something big, expensive.

Saturn - next to the item is something old, cold (fridge), a clock.

Uranus - next to the item is electric devices, a camera, computer, and laptop.

Neptune - item is next to the medicaments, liquids, chemical elements.

Pluto - item is next to something dangerous.

Hope this helped and you enjoyed reading!

canon things we know about the umbrella academy

luther used to marry viktor’s action figures at the age of eight

reginald used to watch the kids sleep and monitor their brainwaves

at some point, grace became ‘mom’ instead of ‘grace, the new nanny’ to all of the children

five was thirteen years old when he found his siblings’ bodies

klaus is the only umbrella native to the usa, coming from an amish community in pennsylvania; luther is from sweden, diego from mexico, allison from south africa, five from ireland, ben from south korea and viktor from russia

viktor cried when his siblings stepped on ants when they were children

the same kid hated oatmeal so much he killed minimum three nannies at the age of four

klaus broke his jaw when they were twelve after falling down the stairs wearing grace’s heels, and had to have it wired shut for eight weeks

grace helped the children pick out their own names

viktor realised he was trans after falling in love with sissy in the sixties

diego boxes under his comic book superhero name, the kraken, and in claire’s bedtime stories, allison calls luther his, spaceboy

diego’s preferred form of conflict resolution is a dance battle

hargreeves considered ben ‘easily manipulated’

both klaus and luther got kidnapped without any other members of their family noticing

after ben died, his family remembered him as the best of them who could do no wrong; klaus, who spent everyday with him, more accurately described him as a ‘loveable asshole’. all of them remember him as loving his family fiercely, and being the glue that kept them together

allison starred in a movie with sandra bullock

with viktor speaking russian, diego speaking spanish and ben speaking korean, it’s highly likely that hargreeves made a point to have them learn the languages their birth mothers spoke

reginald forced all the kids to read shakespeare, the odyssey in ancient greek and insisted on ballroom dancing lessons

sometime between season 1 and season 2, klaus learned how to drive

allison speaks seven languages, and five knows both ancient greek and italian

grace helped diego with his stutter

before he travelled back in time and met dave, klaus’ longest relationship was two-weeks long and primarily because he was tired of sleeping rough

ben and diego made allison’s teddy say ‘luther smells dad’s underwear’ as kids

diego told klaus that licking a battery would give him pubes when they were eight, and klaus believed him

klaus’ special training in the mausoleum was meant to make him too afraid of the ghosts to function, so reginald could control him better; reginald also killed him there at age thirteen, and possibly earlier

viktor’s violin once belonged to reginald’s late wife

diego’s ‘vigilante shit’ was a trauma response

allison was the first of the umbrellas to become a parent, and diego will be the second

ben almost certainly knew that klaus was dying and reanimating, as they spent sixteen years together after his death, and apparently never mentioned it

ben died at sixteen, and stuck around as a ghost for a further sixteen years before going into the light

it was a rule that nobody could speak at mealtimes, and they had to listen to various lectures on the radio

the children got half an hour on sundays for fun and games

the kids used to sneak out of the academy to go and get donuts at griddy’s

five used to get five stars in all of his performance reviews, although luther, hargreeves’ apparent favourite, did not

diego considered viktor’s book unforgiveable, but forgave him for ending the world in 1963 after he apologised

klaus has died fifty-six times by the age of thirty-two

ben died in something called ‘the jennifer incident’, although we still don’t know what it was or exactly how he died

luther spent four years alone on the moon; solitary confinement is considered torture by the united nations after fifteen days

luther wrote poetry on the moon, and self-harmed

diego has a fear of needles

klaus is now physically the oldest sibling, whilst five is mentally the oldest

allison rumoured either luther or patrick to love her

reginald told the kids at ben’s funeral that it was their fault he was dead

diego and klaus used to huff paint as teenagers

five spent somewhere between forty and forty-four years in the apocalypse; his contract with the commission was for five years, and we know he broke it before it was complete

as an old man, five had a moustache

luther, five and klaus all have problems with substance abuse

five and viktor were best friends growing up, as were allison and luther

luther got allison a locket with ‘A + L’ engraved on it when they were teenagers

allison rumoured herself onto a soccer team at one point, despite being homeschooled

luther wanted to go to summer camp, but reginald told him he would never go

none of his siblings know that diego shut grace down in season 1

five singlehandedly invented the formula for time travel

luther fell for the nigerian prince scam

Etho isn't fae. Like actually, no tricks or puzzles or anything, he's a human guy just trying to get through this semester. Unfortunately his college is by The Woods and fae hunters and paranormal experts keep trying to Track Him Down or something. He can't get any peace!!

So no, he's not fae, what he is, is autistic and homeless. So all the strange social rules that fae follow and adhere to and the "lurking in the woods past any time people should be out" are explained with supernatural bullshit and not explained with the failure of the economic system and disability. He's got some weird texture stuff too, wind on his skin feels like knives and pins and needles so he wears a mask and covers up even when it's hot just to avoid the hell that is Air Movement.

He's currently squatting in an old abandoned bomb shelter from the ww2 days in the woods behind campus, he showers at the gym and eats for free with his meal voucher, it's honestly not too terrible. Yes the temperature control is shit but he'd rather be here than in a shelter somewhere, another failure of society he thinks.

Anyway, one day he's followed "home". The man's got a camera and is hell bent on "exposing the fae of the woods" or whatever. Etho didn't realize he was being followed, the man was sneaky and Etho had been on the edge of completely melting down for about 6 hours so he didn't think to check his back.

Bdubs kicks down the door to the shelter, not finding something unknown to the human eye and instead finding Etho, sat on the ratty couch that came with the place, shoveling plain crackers down his gullet by the light of a battery powered camping lamp.

Bdubs screams, Etho screams, Bdubs tries to run and instead smacks face first into the concrete doorframe, Etho laughs at him, they make introductions over a bloody nose and stale crackers, bdubs puts the camera away.

"what do you know about the fae of the woods?" Bdubs asks after a minute

"I am the fae of the woods, people are more comfortable with the thought of a supernatural being than the crisis of homelessness"

"dude."

Bdubs starts visiting after that, they explore the deeper areas of the bunker with a flashlight more powerful than Etho's lamp, he's stayed in the main room this whole time so the inner areas of his house are unknown to both of them. Bdubs can't solve Etho's problems but he can keep him company and bring him apple juice and a new pillow.

Bdubs clears his name at school too, saying that the "fae" was just a hungry raccoon or something. Without the rumors floating around school gets better and he and Bdubs get closer over the summer.

Junior year Bdubs gets a double with someone who dropped out the first week, it's already paid for and nobody else is gonna use it so Etho moves in. Bdubs gets him a bedspread and toiletries and even a stuffed bear full of beans, the weight is nice after a long day. With a stable housing situation Etho is able to get a job on campus, they go shopping together and Bdubs calls it a date more than once. Etho, now equipped with comfortable clothes, climate control and lots of feelings about his friend, asks Bdubs if he wants to go to Panera bread with him, as a date. You know, like boyfriends would.

They push their beds together a few months later and by graduation they move into a little apartment. Being the Fae of the Woods was horrible but it did end up getting Etho his husband, so. Upsides, y'know?

-s (who is so sick and tired of being Othered and seen and something to be avoided cause of disability. i'm projecting, can u tell?)

Bdubs likes to joke that he did expose the Fae of the woods... Just as a big softie that blushes every time Bdubs holds his hands! Etho whacks him, before hiding his face in Bdubs' shoulder like that'll save him.

There was a point that Etho didn't think he'd have his own space to decorate - nevermind somebody to share it with. Now, he can make it perfect. Acoustic cork panels on the walls, a weighted blanket at the bottom of the bed. Temperature that he's able to control! And surrounded by all of Bdubs' plants, and Bdubs himself. He doesn't think he could ask for anything more.

Compass (Norm Maclean x OC) - I

"Look at him, all smart at turning off the light." A voice whispered close to his ear, thick and rough. "Listen." The voice got even lower, and he did, even if unconsciously, half of him certain that at any point there would be a knife, either against his throat or through his back.

AO3 | Next Chapter

(I recommend hearing "Compass" by Sail North, it's my main writing song for this one, but there is also "Brave New World" by Starset and "Nails" by Call me Karizma, don't ask me about the last one, I don't know too. Good reading!)

Word Count: 4.323

Warnings: ... Wasteland Typical Violence

I

He stumbled outside, forcing his legs as he heard the grinding sound of the Vault door closing echoing behind him. His feet slid down the sand and he dry-swallowed, steps fast amidst the ruins - he had been lucky, managing to escape that weird robot Bud and to slink around Vault 33 and reach the outside door.

He had thought of trying to reach out Chet, tell the others, tell what he had discovered... But the before of Vault 32 was still fresh in his mind. They had discovered, and it had led to madness. And people were still so tense... Either they wouldn't believe him, or they would, and then... They weren't made for this type of thing, too innocent and naïve as the talks about how to deal with the invaders had shown, and with no will of trying to learn more. Properly raised to be agreeable. It would only make things worse.

Norm didn't want that to happen with the ones he knew, no matter how... Complicated things usually were, how out of place he felt. And after all of Betty's veiled threats, after the deaths of the invaders, he was pretty sure he would either be killed or framed for those deaths. It didn't matter if he never told a soul, he knew too much, didn't complied when they wanted him to.

No. Leaving and try to find Lucy, tell her everything, that their father was not who they thought, was his best bet. Still didn't know what to do after, but still. Better than stay, silent and frustrated and unable to do anything.

Even if survival seemed equally unlikely above.

He stopped by a shadow, blinking at the darkening sky; he had been so desperate to leave before anyone really noticed him that he hadn't noticed how late in the day it was. Norm grimaced as he took a sip of water from his canteen. Night fast approaching, supplies far from ideal because of his fast escape, no weapons, no experience outside the Vault...

He better survive enough to find Lucy. She better be alive, or he would kill her himself again. Somehow.

---------

An old night vision scope showed the fire glimmering in light green, the electrified bodies of radroaches starting to pile around it. A reasonable haul for one night of hunting; after dry, it would sell fast in Filly.

If the Brotherhood didn't give her shit as she tried to enter the city. Damn, had they made everything more complicated. Why had they even come?

She hoped at least one molerat would stumble into it before the traps' batteries ran out; their leather was useful, and once treated reached good prices, especially with shoemakers - not as good as brahmin leather, but useful enough for the craft and one of her family's main income.

Moving the scope around the terrain, she kept her old, trusty hunting rifle ready and close by her hand. It was a shame the scope was so bulky; she had tried again and again to attach it to the rifle, but either it didn't stuck, or it messed up the weapons weight. Not even Mika had been able to make it work. In the end the scope just remained dangling from a leather cord around her neck when not in use.

She contracted her legs, keeping the muscles from falling asleep from her immobility in her hiding spot. She would be damned if pinpricks and needles stopped her from moving when needed.

Movement caught her attention at the edges of the scope and she moved it, centralizing the movement.

Through the shades of green, she recognized the human proportions. Too far away to identify too many details, half fallen walls and columns obstructing the view half the time but... Yeah, a person trying to skulk around the ruins. In the Wasteland. During the night. And... Yep, a lit flashlight. They were walking carefully from what she saw, sure, but... Did they have a death wish?

She watched some more, cursing the low resolution of the scope; more steps, going in a more open area, steps insecure... And the direction made her sure that soon the person would see the fire.

And in the night, would walk towards it. Maybe steal her haul, maybe take a shock and mess up her traps, maybes maybes maybes... Too many maybes for her.

"Fuck." she mumbled, lowering the scope with a scowl towards where she had last seen the person, just a smidge of a silhouette in the dark ruins, already amidst the walls again.

Still cursing under her breath, she got up, practiced movements hanging the backpack over her back and rifle over a shoulder in less than ten seconds, sliding down the old fireman's pole.

---------

Norm kept walking across the ruins long after the sun had set, trying to keep behind the half-standing walls and use his height to stay out of sight. The sounds of the wind across the sand and ruins around him low, rumbling, all-encompassing. It was unnerving after how silent the Vault was most of the time, just steps against metal and voices.

It was hard to process that wind could make so much noise when his only examples were old movies.

A space in the ruins opened ahead, and a small focus of light flashed across the night, reaching some walls. Frowning, he slowed his steps, carefully moving around the rocks and broken concrete, and his eyes fell on a burning fire, right in the open, on the top of a small hill of sand, almost detached from the rest of the ruins, and he stopped.

Norm could notice something glimmering around it, at some distance in the ground... But besides, it was just that. The fire, burning. No people, no nothing.

He turned off his Pip-boy's flashlight.

Something slid across his face and covered his mouth - a hand? -, a presence behind him, blocking the wind and the desert's cold. Damn it. Damn it.

"Look at him, all smart at turning off the light." A voice whispered close to his ear, thick and rough. "Listen." The voice got even lower, and he did, even if unconsciously, half of him certain that at any point there would be a knife, either against his throat or through his back.

First the wind whistling, the sand slowly being blown off, the crackling of the fire... And then in the wind a small, skittering sound, and as he watched the fire, something approached... And an arc of electricity, a high pitched but brief noise, something jumping and falling, too big, darkness and distance making it difficult to actually see.

"Radroach. Nasty things in group, kinda bitter, but food is food. Easy to catch if you know how." Norm filled away the whisper, waiting during a beat of silence. Still no knife, no nothing. "All righty, it seems we are clear for now. There is a house still standing with a door close by, let's go."

The hand fell away from him, and Norm waited for a heartbeat, but there was only the soft sound of a step, no other attempt at touching him, no knife at his back.

"Why should I go with you?" He whispered back, turning halfway, the light of the distant fire just enough to highlight edges.

It was enough for him to notice that the person was probably taller and bigger than Chet. Not by much, but still a terrifying prospect, because they had done absolutely no sound when approaching.

A chuckle, and something in it was distinctly feminine.

"You do you, Vaultie, but I'm going. Wasteland nights in the outside ain't pretty or fun. Just keep away from my trap, hm?"

The woman turned and started walking.

Norm watched, looked over his shoulder at the fire still burning, the bait for something he didn't even knew in a place he still needed to learn all about, which rules applied and which didn’t...

She was at the fourth step when he started following, another chuckle, a hand waving him ahead.

"Keep the flashlight off and walk besides me." Norm couldn't avoid a huff but did as told.

A rock made him stumble and a hand at his shoulder kept him from falling. He squinted at the night, tempted to light the flashlight... But the skittering sound replayed in his head, the fire a bait, and he kept it off.

---------

His eyes had slowly adapted enough to not stumble all the time, so it was easy to notice the silhouette of the woman stopping by an old and cracked wooden door. Norm doubted it would actually protect them from something, but it was better than all the half-walls.

She put a hand at the doorknob, another raising something to her eye, and Norm rolled his eyes. Of course she had something to see in the dark.

The door slowly inched open, hinges grinding, and he winced. She stuck her head inside for a moment, came out, took a rock from the ground and threw inside, a muffled bang reaching him.

They waited and listened, but there was no other sound for long moments, and she signaled for him to enter. The woman followed a moment later, carefully closing the door. The darkness deepened, only small cracks in walls and roof allowing slivers of moonlight inside, and the lack of wind blowing against him made him notice how cold it was outside.

"You can turn on the flashlight. I'll verify the rest of the house."

Her steps were faster than his hands, the light catching only the ends of leather boots - old, stained, but well cared and well made.

He looked around; sandy, but not like outside, barred windows keeping the night and wind out there. Some old chairs, three still up but not safe-looking. A table broken in the middle, missing a leg. A shelf, empty and stained but standing.

"No animals, the other door and windows still securely barred." The woman got closer, and Norm turned, the flashlight giving a face to the voice.

Yep. Taller and broader than Chet at shoulders and hips and... Everything, really. She looked able to break his neck with nary a thought. But she hadn't, he reassured himself.

Yet.

Jeans, shirt and short leather cape over shoulders, a type of bag-belt around hips and thighs, full of pockets, a hunting rifle slung on one shoulder. Clothes weathered with old stains, flakes of sand drifting off, and neatly mended innumerous times.

Above it all, a square jaw, rounded chin, high cheekbones, a large mostly-straight nose - it was pretty clear the bridge had been broken and not put in place correctly before the bone glued back. Weathered brown skin, hair a brownish-auburnish dirty color with strands against her face, metal rings glinting in her eyebrow and ears. He couldn't estimate her age safely.

And the scars. Those made him blink for a second. A large burn stripe at one cheek, scraggly lines across her nose, what suspiciously looked as claw marks at the other cheek, a cut from the bottom lip to the chin... In the harsh light of his flashlight, the scars looked deep, furrows marring the skin like rivers in the desert.

So unlike the invaders, with no facial scars to outright make someone suspicious, and at the same time something in the eyes and posture was exactly like them.

"Seeing something pretty, Vaultie?"

Her voice cut his observation, and Norm focused in time to catch the raised eyebrow and cheeky grin, a gap showing where she had lost a tooth.

"Just... " he shook his head, uncertain of what to say as she landed her backpack in the ground, things inside clinking. "... Thinking." he ended with a shrug as she released an old oil lantern from the backpack, positioning it at the shelf and lighting it.

He turned off his flashlight, the light from the lantern illuminating the room better in a warm, diffuse light that softened her face in a way that made him think that she shouldn't be much older than him, actually.

"Fair enough." She plopped down by her backpack, legs crossed, rifle besides her. "There are still some hours before the sun graces us, so make yourself comfortable, Vaultie."

He carefully sat down opposite her, eyes occasionally glinting towards the rifle.

That, plus what he now could see was an old scope dangling from her neck, and the fact that he had barely heard her steps, before and after, solidified in his mind that she could've killed him anytime, but hadn't. Why?

A zipping sound, and the woman took a canteen and a cloth packet from the backpack. A piece of what appeared to be jerky was taken from the packet, and the sound of chewing filled the room.

"Got food and water with you, Vaultie?"

"It's Norm. And yes, I do."

Not enough.

He didn't say that while he took his own canteen and one Fancy Lads Snack Cakes from his sidebag.

"Good." She nodded, taking a sip of the water. "And it's Marigold here, if you're wondering."

They ate mostly in silence, the wind still noising around outside; Norm watched and noticed how her eyes - mismatched, one brown and one black - didn't stay in a single place for long, head leaned this way and that at each different spike in sound outside, wide, thick lips twisting occasionally before relaxing. He heard those too, but didn't have enough context to say what caused them. Or where.

And he hated that, the unknown.

"Sooo, Norm... Is it ok of me to ask why you left your Vault?"

He looked up from closing his side-bag, and Marigold was mostly watching him, knees up and arms crossed over them. Why hadn't she killed him?

"To find my sister. She... Left some time ago."

Just his sister. No father, no kidnapping, no attack, nothing beyond Lucy, because after his discovery, he wasn’t certain if it was safe to go around saying all about that.

She frowned at him, a pensive hand at her chin.

"... I heard of a Vaultie girl in Filly recently, from a merchant..." Norm perked up at the snippet of information.

"Where's that?"

"Not too far, but I don't recommend. The Brotherhood occupied it recently, and they can get really frisky with pre-war tech." Marigold nodded towards his Pip-Boy, and Norm's hand covered it, almost absentmindedly.

"Brotherhood?" He repeated, and she grimaced, scratching at her head.

"Fuck. All righty, time for a crash-course."

---------

The lantern's light dimmed as the time passed, the woman pretended to nap - her fingers were just too tight against the rifle, no way she was actually sleeping -, and Norm reflected on what Marigold had shared about the surface. Not extensive, but enlightening.

Filly, a small city, where most travelling merchants passed through. Even if Lucy hadn't been the "Vaultie girl" Marigold had heard about, it was his best bet of where to find information.

However, the so called Brotherhood of Steel... Marigold had been clear in saying that meeting one on a day-to-day life was usually fine, as long as you didn't get in the way of whatever they were doing, their "mission", which usually involved pre-war tech. Filly was the first place she knew they had occupied, and while she hadn’t visited yet, she had heard enough of wandering trading caravans to know that, a lot of the times, when they occupied a place and insisted they had arrived to "bring order", things could get nasty, especially if there was pre-tech around or, as she had put very sarcastically "normal Ghouls and other mutants. God forbid people have consequences from radiation".

He hadn't asked details about Ghouls and mutants yet; he didn't want to go on a tangent.

She had never heard of them trying to occupy a functioning Vault, but she still said he should thread carefully when dealing with them, if only because his Pip-boy was still functional.

Norm hadn’t talked about it, but he was pretty sure that the cryogenic technology in Vault 31 probably would attract unwanted attention if they heard about it so yeah, that advice he was taking to heart. It was what had probably attracted that Moldaver woman, after all.

Maybe she was with them? Them why had she caused a bunch of deaths, kidnapped his father, and then just… Left? He was still missing something.

There had also been mention of more factions by name, but she hadn't gone in details beyond "stay away from Bounty Hunters, you never know whose price is up". New thing to learn: how the hell do you identify a Bounty Hunter?

She ended talking about some of the more common and obvious dangers of the Wastelands - raiders, slavers, cannibals, feral ghouls, and a dozen of mutated animals. Not as common as she made them sound, "no sir, I just survive from hunting through dangerous places and as long as one tries to keep to a settlement they should be safe from these".

"Until some maniac tech-hoarding zealot order decided to occupy such settlement, that is" had escaped him and she had laughed loudly at that.

The "crash-course", as she had put, had fizzled out and she claimed she was going to sleep, still sitting, and Norm remained wide awake, thinking, one single feeling taking hold of him, resuming everything she had said: it was all about survival, and too many people didn’t care if it meant trampling over others.

The “Wasteland”, as she had called, was even worse than he had thought.

And the people in Vault were talking about teaching and rehabilitating the invaders. They didn’t have the barest notion. And he was starting to understand that neither did him.

After how she had immediately noticed he was a Vault Dweller, and what she said about everyone and everything else, Norm reached the conclusion he would need to not look out-of-place, at least long enough to snoop around the mentioned city, Filly, and discover if it had been Lucy there and where she might have gone.

And he hadn't even started to think about supplies and the local currency she had briefly explained - "caps".

Norm sighed and pinched his nose. He could barely look in-place in the Vault where he had spent his whole life, on the so-called Wasteland? He doubted he had a chance.

"You should try and sleep a little." Marigold's voice cut the silence, the brown eye open and watching him.

"And you have been doing a lot of it, I see."

---------

Marigold chuckled, straightening herself.

"Guilty as charged."

She didn't tell it was because he thought loudly - not literally, he had been quiet as the grave until that sigh. Only, she had been hunting in the Wastes as far as she could remember, and she had learned that silence was louder just before something dangerous appeared to take you out. Not even her house was ever silent, with the generators and fans in the tanning room and the turrets and so many people inside at any given moment, never everyone sleeping at the same time because someone had to keep watch. Despite the wind and all the living sounds of the desert outside, the silence inside had made sleep impossible.

Silence fell again, and Marigold knew sleep would keep avoiding her. Abandoning the pretense, she watched Norm watch the room, his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

Half of her still doubted she had truly stumbled into an actual Vaultie. And from Vault 33, whose door she occasionally passed by during her hunting routes. Pristine, no signs of ever being forced open... She had always wondered if there were still people alive inside.

Now she had her answer. She just hadn't expected someone so... Small.

Granted, most people looked small next to her, but still. At first, in the dark, she almost had thought he was a kid; the pinpricks of facial hair against her hand and the voice had said that nope, adult man there.

And one of the neatest she had ever seen: the dark hair still combed, nails clean and trimmed...

"It's the suit."

"'m sorry?"

"My suit. The Vault suit. It attracts attention." Norm rubbed the leather wrists of the suit between two fingers.

Marigold couldn't avoid a small smile. Fast learner. He should be fine in the Wasteland as soon as he found his way of doing things.

"Not in itself. Enough Vaults went to shit and were scavenged that a bunch of suits roam around, but some people may know that 33 is not one of them."

"People like you." He frowned more at her, letting go of the sleeve, and Marigold shrugged.

"The door is in my hunting routes and there is no sign of ever being breached."

Norm nodded, still pensive.

Marigold tapped a finger against her thigh, lips pressed in a line; from where they were, her home was in the middle of the route to Filly, and she did had some things, scavenged and hunted, she needed to drop off with her parents and younger nephews and nieces before travelling to Filly.

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she watched him some more.

Searching his sister. She thought there was more, but she wasn't about to point fingers and demand answers, people had a right to their secrets.

With half a dozen siblings, by blood and adopted, wandering the region like her or living farther away, hunting and scavenging and trading, she understood the uncertainty. The fear that something had happened. The only difference was that she knew exactly where her siblings were and how to find them if they weren't.

Fuck. Just last month her parents, all three of them, had said she was as sappy as all the rest of the family. She had really been thinking the “sappy gene” had jumped her.

Letting her head fall against the wall, she looked at the ceiling instead of Norm. It allowed her to notice that the cracks were starting to be illuminated from outside. She better do her offer, they didn't had much time to get moving.

"I could take you to my family. They'll have something you can use to cover at least your back. And, fuck, enough merchants pass by that someone might have heard something about another Vaultie, it would be safer than getting close to the Brotherhood."

Marigold looked at him only when she finished.

Norm was frowning so much that she bet he would get a headache.

"... How can I be sure you're not just attracting me to a better place to slash my neck or that your family is a bunch of cannibals or whatever?"

She could see he was serious, but there was just enough of a drawl in his words that it sounded slightly sarcastic. It was literally the only reason she didn’t take offense on the “cannibals”: human meat was sometimes used as bait by them, but never as food.

So Marigold allowed herself to grin back, raising both eyebrows.

"Naw, it would be a crime to slash open someone so cute." Her eyes slinked across Norm for a moment, don't bothering to try and decipher his facial expression, and yep. No fucking weapons. That suit didn’t allow much space for such. God damn it.

Sighing, she pulled a sheathed knife from inside her boot and extended towards him; she had enough knifes that giving one away wouldn't be that big of a problem.

Sappy indeed, giving away a weapon to someone she had just met in exchange for absolutely nothing. Thank God no one from her family was close, she wouldn't survive their teasing that she was finally a Whole Bear.

She also hoped they wouldn’t discover this, or the teasing would happen anyway.

"Here. Even if you decide to part ways. Knives are the most useful thing out here."

Norm took the knife gingerly through the handle, frown smoothing a little.

"... Thanks."

Marigold looked up again, natural sunlight starting to enter in full.

"Day is breaking. The Wastes will be a little safer now." She got up, turning off the oil lantern. Hopefully nothing would've had messed up her trap in the last hours.

---------

Norm would've liked to say that he had actually grappled with the option Marigold had presented for a long time, uncertain about his safety and her intentions.

It had actually just taken the time for him to unsheathe the knife and confirm that, despite the old blood-stains, rust-red against the brown leather of both handle and sheath, the blade was well-kept, sharp, bigger than the kitchen knives he used in the Vault. Useful. She could've killed him, but hadn't, and when confronted with "what ifs" regarding his worry about himself, gifted him a weapon, no strings attached.

Maybe it would bit him in the butt later, but for now... Well, she hadn't killed him yet.

Marigold had already left, the door not totally closed. Norm went after her, blinking and squinting in the bright light.

"Who would imagine that actual sun is such a pain..." He used the arm not holding the sheathed knife to try and protect his eyes.

He heard a laugh and turned his head, arm still raised.

Marigold was just a few steps ahead, half turned, smile in her lips, the sun bringing forth golden undertones to her skin and hair.

"I gather you didn't arrive during the day..."

Norm shook his head, lowering his arm when his eyes got used to the light, and closed the door of the shambling house. Marigold leaned her head to the side, still watching him.

"Are you coming?"

"You actually know how things over here work, so yes." He approached, storing the knife in his sidebag.

Marigold's smile got bigger and he slipped into walking besides her.

The Sterling Saga: The Hardest Part is Getting Started...

I'm what the kids call a Scorpio/Sagittarius cusp. It gives me the worst qualities of both, but the Sagittarian ones are especially irritating. I can handle living a life of hermitude and psychological trauma (I'm missing out on a fireworks show as I type this). What I can't handle is constantly being haunted by the ghosts of my own dumbassery.

I know they're there. I anticipate them. I do everything I can to keep their rattling chains out of my halls.

...so you would think that, even with my tendency to get an idea in my head and then haul off and relentlessly pursue, I would at least have had enough sense to back up my talking furby on fucking Google Drives or something.

...I did not. Thus begins our next great adventure!

Let me give you a little breakdown of how Sterling works. His main computing system is a Raspberry Pi Zero W attached to a speaker and motor controller. His programming is stored entirely on a microSD card. This is the primary copy of his data. His old backups were stored on an old computer of mine which I no longer have, though the hard drive is still in my possession. I hope. I haven't gone through my moving boxes yet.

So, I can take two routes when it comes to retrieving Sterling's data: I can either go through a million boxes, find that hard drive, get an adapter, plug it into my wimpy-ass Lenovo Yoga and get to the data that way, or, I could pop Sterling open, pull out that MicroSD card, pop it in a card reader and back up the primary copy onto the Yoga and the cloud for safekeeping.

Both options are time consuming, but one of them is the fun kind of time consuming and the other is the boring kind of time consuming. So, I'm going with option 2. If option 2 ends in tragedy, I can still hopefully buy a new rig and do an emergency recovery of the data that exists on that hard drive. Hopefully it won't come to that - if I was smart enough to put him together, I should be smart enough to take him apart, right...?

"How in the hell did I do this...?"

After unceremoniously cutting open the zip tie and pulling off his fur, I was met with a sight I vaguely remember: the non-electrical wire that holds the bottom of his carapace in place, covered by insulating tape, and above that, the wires leading to his touch sensors.

One interesting thing of note is that the wire actually goes into his shell, rather than being wrapped around the outside of it. I have no idea why I did this. Surely, there must've been a reason. To keep the battery hatch in place when the hardware wouldn't fit, maybe? I'm not entirely certain, but why else would I take such an approach? Running that metal wire so close to the hardware is just asking to short circuit something otherwise, unless it was positioned just right.

I undid the wire with some pliers, and this is the part where I chickened out. I don't have a screwdriver well suited for unscrewing him, or needle and thread for his ears for that matter. Not to mention a MicroSD card reader (besides my phone that is). After suitably defiling him, I put the old man back together the best I could and made a shopping list of supplies for tomorrow.

The current plan is to get the necessary supplies and very carefully extract that card, ideally without harming Sterling's hardware. Though if I do, it's not a huge loss: I can easily replace aluminum tape or a speaker. I can't easily replace three months' worth of nonstop, agonized coding - or a friend, for that matter.

And so he sits, like a sleeping Buddha unfazed by the ever-shifting cycle of samsara while I scramble to purchase an appropriately sized screwdriver.

If only I could be so enlightened...

The Runaway Distance Life Of A Little Stark Chapter 12: A little bit of truth

Pairing: Tony Stark & daughter!Reader, Phil coulson & reader, Peter parker & reader Summary: Phil and reader discussed something, peter parker and reader bond with a hint reveal Co author with: callikc  Previous next Tag:  @venomsvl  @geeksareunique

You agreed to meet Coulson the next day at a safe and secure location so you could take a look at the jet. But, before that, you were looking after Peter.

Ben and May were at work so they asked you to pick him up from school which you were all too happy to do. He was the nicest and smartest kid you knew and he was like a little brother to you at this point. You'd do anything for him.

"Behold... The fortress." You announced, kicking open the door to your apartment and balancing some work projects in one hand. "Run free, child."

Peter laughed before doing just that and jumping onto the couch where a mound of pillows had been hoarded. He kicked off his shoes and bag and tossed them in a messy corner.

"What's for dinner?" He then asked.

"Uh..." You placed down the work stuff on the kitchen island, looking through the cupboards after. "We have a glorified cheese sandwich, or good old mac and cheese."

"Mac and cheese!"

You nodded. "Mac and cheese it is."

"Thanks."

"No problem. I might even have some ice cream left over from our last hang out."

"Yes!"

You laughed at the excitement. "So how's the physics project coming along?"

"Oh, you'll love this." He retrieved his school bag again and dug out a sheet of paper. "I want to make a homopolar motor."

"A spinning wire sculpture?"

"Yep. But I want to make it flashy as well. We've got to write down each step of our project and present it so the rest of the class can try their own at home."

"Ah, the dreaded class presentation. I always hated that."

"Me too. But this is pretty simple so I think I'll get it done by tonight. If you've got what we need, that is."

"Of course I do." You started to take out the ingredients for mac and cheese. "After all, what kind of house doesn't have a neodymium disc magnet?"

Peter grinned like a kid in a candy store and wrote down the list of things needed: - 1 neodymium disc magnet (0.5 diameter, with 0.25 thickness) - 1 AA battery, 1.5 volt - Copper wire (not insulated), 14 gauge - 12 inch ruler - Needle nose pliers with wire cutter

While you started to make the dinner, Peter gathered what he needed since he knew your apartment like his own. You occasionally watched and joined in while waiting for things to cook and by the time the kitchen timer went off, you'd gotten as far as putting the neodymium magnet on the negative end of the battery. The two of you could have made the whole thing in ten minutes any other day but since instructions were part of the project, it took longer.

"Dinner is served, fratello." You said, holding two plates of mac and cheese in each hand.

Peter glanced up from the project with a frown. "Fra-who-lo?"

You chuckled. "Don't worry. Just smile and nod."

"Right." He got up and moved to the couch, but when you didn't join him, he stared. "We're not eating at the table, are we?"

"God, no. What do you think we are, civilized beings? I'm just looking for the remote."

"It's in the bonsai pot."

"The bonsai pot?" You furrowed your brows, confused. "Why is the remote in the bonsai pot?"

"Because you have an unhealthy addiction to Buffy the Vampire Slayer and asked me to hide it."

"Oh... Okay. Yeah, that seems believable. I mean, Buffy could step on me. And dark Willow? Wow. Don't even get me started on Faith and Spike."

Peter had already zoned out of your simping and grabbed the remote, switching on the channel to the usual news. It was about an incident in Japan. Your dad had saved someone there, someone important by the looks of things.

Peter looked at you, noticing the way you looked away from the TV at all costs and started to awkwardly play with your food. He'd known you long enough to realize that was a sign that you were nervous. It happened any time Iron Man was mentioned in a conversation or shown on the TV. He'd been wanting to ask you something for a long time because of it, and now seemed like as good a time as any.

"Ellen?"

You looked up, trying not to react every time your dad flew by on the screen. "Yeah?"

"Are you (y/n) Stark?"

He had asked it so casually you were convinced you were hearing things at first.

Why would Peter ever ask that? How did he know? He was just a kid and surely still too young to remember when you were reported as missing.

How the hell did he know your name?

"Uh..." You swallowed nervously. "No."

Peter gave you a stare that clearly said he didn't believe you. "Are you sure?"

"Pete, I'd know if I was the daughter of a billionaire."

"Unless you ran away."

You blinked, growing more and more concerned. "What?"

"I've seen the old pictures, Ellen. You look just like (y/n) even though you keep changing your hair and clothes. I didn't realize until a few months ago."

"Peter-"

"Tell me the truth. Please." He begged with a pout. "I won't tell anyone. You know I won't. I promise."

Maybe...

Maybe it wouldn't hurt.

It had been years since the kidnapping, and Obadiah Stane was still very much dead. You hadn't had any incidents and things were calm. Perhaps the danger was gone.

You still had the pessimistic feeling that it wasn't over but you supposed everyone had that now and then. Besides, Fury and Ben knew and they were okay. You'd revealed the truth to Happy and he was alive. Maybe it was safe.

"Peter, you need to listen to me." You said. "You can't tell anyone. Not Ben and May, not Ned, not anyone."

Peter grinned before you gave him a stern look and he settled down. "Okay. I promise. Does this mean that you're really her? You're not Ellen, you're... (Y/n)?"

You closed your eyes tightly and took a moment to focus on breathing before you slowly nodded. "Yeah."

"Cool!"

You opened your eyes again, a little confused. "What?"

"That's so cool! I mean, Iron Man is your dad! How many people can say that?"

You scoffed. "With the way he used to be, more than you think."

He went to rant some more but suddenly stopped, tilting his head as he looked at you. "Why did you run away?"

Having known the question would pop up, you sighed. "It's a long story, kid."

"We've got hours."

"Unfortunately."

And so you began to explain. You left out the darker details since he was still only a kid but remained as accurate and close to the truth as possible. You didn't tell him that Ben knew or that you worked for SHIELD, just that a group of people knew and offered you work and safety.

"He's changed." You finished. "He used to be so distant. I knew more about the people he worked with than I ever did about him. There were so many birthdays where all I wanted was a song or even just a hug but got nothing. But he's different now."

Peter smiled sadly. "Why don't you go back?"

You thought about it but shrugged. "I guess I've just been away for so long, I've got used to it. And he's got a whole new life now as one of Earth's Mightiest Heroes."

"I'm sure he'd love to see you again. I mean, you're awesome, Ellen. You can build things and you're funny and cool and you make the best Mac and Cheese."

You smiled but shook your head. "Not now. Maybe... One day."

He wanted to persuade you more but ultimately nodded in understanding when he saw your eyes becoming tearful.

He moved next to you and hugged you tightly. "Here's that hug you always wanted."

You closed your eyes, putting your arms around him and relishing the feeling. "Thanks, Peter."

"I won't tell anybody." He said. "And I'm always going to love you and be your number one best friend no matter who you are."

-

The next day, were certain you were dreaming as you looked around at the little hideaway you were meant to be meeting Coulson in. You couldn't believe that while the world thought he was dead, he was working on missions in a place like this. It was incredible.

You missed him so much. In the many months you spent together, he'd quickly become your favorite agent. He wasn't like other uptight SHIELD people who barked orders without thought and listened to what superiors told them. He actually questioned things and had morals. You admired that.

The place in question was huge, like a bunker. There were more people inside than you thought there'd be but it wasn't exactly bustling either. There were storage crates and cars going around but in the center of it all was a huge jet.

You recognized it. It was a CXD 23215 Airborne Mobile Command Station, otherwise known as a Boeing C-17 Globemaster III airplane. SHIELD used them a lot during the 80s and 90s before the helicarriers came into rotation. To know that you were needed to help fix it was actually quite thrilling.

And, boy, did it look like it needed a fix. Especially the outside hull. You wondered if the interior was as bad or not.

"Ellen."

You turned at the name you'd grown accustomed to and your eyes lit up when you saw Coulson waiting on the ramp of the jet.

"Agent!" You smiled and ran forward, hugging him tightly. "You're really alive? You're real?"

He chuckled and returned the hug. "I am. I'm real."

"I can't-" You shook your head, disbelief clear on your face as you stepped back. "When Fury told me I couldn't believe it. What they did-"

"I'd rather not get into it."

"Oh." You nodded. "Yeah, no, I get it."

You then stepped back to take in the jet, changing the subject.

"What do you think?" Coulson asked curiously. "Can you fix it?"

You tilted your head as you assessed what you could see. "I'd take a guess at modest hull damage and minimal engine armor scrapes. It looks like an airlock was opened in a very unconventional manner."

He looked at you, impressed. "That's exactly what happened. You've got the quite the talent, Agent Campbell."

"I'm just an engineer." You scoffed. "I wouldn't mind knowing what caused this. Who opened the airlock?"

"That would be the Asgardian I told you about. Do you remember New Mexico?"

"With Thor? Wait... He didn't do this, did he?"

"No. This was someone else. Her name was Lorelai."

"Lor-e-who?"

He smiled and motioned to the jet. "We have a lot to talk about."

MAY-U - Turgon x Finrod

This is one for MoonLord. And I've been asked to write children...let's see how that goes LOL

Turgon seems to be the winner of May as he got 2 stories! LOL

Characters: Turgon x Finrod

Prompts: Raising a child - Doctor/Nurse - I miss moments like this

Words: 2 100

Warnings: Child crying, sickness, injury, poisoning, hospital setting, disappointed love, pining

As soon as Finrod got the page, his blood ran cold as if a devastating premonition had come over him.

Hastening from the breakroom to the treatment area, he tried to control his breathing—it would not do to add to the stress of already panicked parents by being anything other than perfectly composed.

“What do we have?” he asked immediately upon crossing the threshold of the painfully bare hospital room, his hand outstretched to retrieve a tablet containing the intake summary.

“Finrod?”

His head snapped up—he’d not heard that voice in years, and yet he recognised the full, warm baritone, tense with fear, at once.

“Turno? What happened?”

“It’s my nephew; ‘Rissë’s kid. He snuck out, and we suspect that some evil creature must have given him something…I don’t know…”

Finrod’s head was spinning; the last news he’d gotten about his old friend had been that his wife had died in an unfortunate skiing accident. He’d waited for Turgon to call, and—when his phone never rang—he’d switched from general surgery to paediatrics on a whim.

A part of him had been painfully, jealously aware of the deplorable fact that Turgon would be a single parent, and he secretly yearned to be useful at the very least if he couldn’t be wanted by the one he’d adored since his early adolescence.

If one discounted that one sloppy kiss after too much stolen brandy, nothing had ever happened between them, and Finrod had never doubted that Turgon—dutiful and traditional to a fault—would end up marrying a girl his parents welcomed and cherished. He’d always been a stickler for the rules like that!

In a haze of agonising memories and embarrassing tenderness, Finrod ordered a bleary-eyed intern to run a whole battery of tests on the pale boy who lay, motionless and frail, on the bright blue covers of the hospital bed.

“I didn’t know…How is your sister?”

“Dead,” Turgon replied in a hollow voice. “That scumbag who impregnated her—it doesn’t matter. It’s all in the past now.”

“Please,” a tiny voice interrupted. “He’s so very sick. Can you make him all better?”

A girl, barely older than the patient, tugged on Finrod’s lab coat in her desperate bid to be heard.

“Is she…” Finrod asked, suppressing a shiver as he surveyed the intern sticking tubes and needles into the spindly arm of the stricken boy.

“She’s mine. Ours. Mine now. They’re both mine!” Turgon stammered in a choked voice. “I’m all they have left. They’re all I have left…and I don’t know how to help them!”

There it was, Finrod thought selfishly, the moment he’d been awaiting for so many countless years. At last, he could prove that Turgon had been wrong in shutting him out—no matter his own misgivings and gnawing disappointment, he could and would be an invaluable friend in times of need.

“Leave it to me,” he whispered before squatting down to be at eye level with the golden-haired girlchild who was still staring at him with that profound, uncanny wisdom only given to young children. “Do you maybe want to go play or…an ice cream? The cafeteria has quite an impressive assortment.”

Frowning at him as if he was daft, she shook her pretty head. “It’s late, and I’ve already had my dinner. My tummy would get upset, and…I can’t be sick now. He is sick!”

Her tiny, pudgy finger pointed at the boy with the unwavering determination of fate itself.

“Help him!”

Tears of all-consuming fear, fatigue, and frustration glistened in her ocean-blue eyes.

“In a moment, princess,” he murmured reassuringly. “We’ll have to find out what’s wrong first.”

At that moment, his fellow physician stepped into the room noiselessly, motioning to Finrod behind Turgon’s back to meet him outside.

“I’ll be right back, darling,” the paediatrician promised the little one, and—with a meaningful glance at his former friend—he left the room.

“Do you know this man? Are you too close to this? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost!”

He wanted to deny that accusation, but the very words of overcompensating fury died on his tongue in the face of the gentle understanding and sympathy of his favourite colleague.

“We were friends a long time ago,” he confessed instead, averting his gaze.

“Just friends?”

“The man came in with not one, but two children,” Finrod sputtered, throwing his hands in the air helplessly. “Of course, we were just friends.”

“That means nothing,” his colleague quipped, laying a comforting hand on his tense arm. “He came in alone with two kids. I’ve yet to see a woman, or a man for that matter.”

“His wife died,” Finrod informed his co-worker dryly. “His sister died. And his nephew’s initial exams are not encouraging.”

“Take them down to the cafeteria. I’ll page you as soon as the analyses are in! Go!”

Nodding tersely, Finrod returned to the room—he’d imagined seeing Turgon again a million times, his fantasies ranging from passionate fights to deep-felt confessions of affection, but he’d never expected their reunion to feel this terrifying.

In his capacity, he saw too many gruesome fates to sleep easily, but the sight of the dark-haired, pallid boy broke his heart in a myriad of ways he’d never known before.

He remembered Turgon’s indomitably vivacious sister fondly, and he couldn’t quite comprehend yet that he’d indeed never meet her again to lovingly mock the overly stern beauty, who was now wringing his hands in unspeakable despair, with that easy complicity she’d always inspired in people.

“Let’s clear the room,” Finrod said softly. “I’ll keep tabs on the results, but you should get a coffee or something.”

“I can’t leave him—he…”

“He’s fast asleep,” Finrod interrupted, nodding ever so lightly at the curled-up form of Turgon’s daughter in a corner. “She doesn’t have to see this,” he mouthed.

The consideration Finrod showed the girl seemed to sway Turgon at last, who went over to scoop her into his strong arms. She blinked rapidly, willing herself back into the present in an act of self-control that left Finrod baffled and deeply impressed. “Let’s see if they have a hot chocolate downstairs.”

“Will the doctor also come?” she asked, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

“This is my friend Finrod,” Turgon introduced in a soothing voice. “He can, of course, come with us if he wants to. Are you free?”

“My shift ended half an hour ago,” Finrod smiled. “I’m off-duty, theoretically. Don’t worry, I won’t desert you!”

He couldn’t help his voice’s sharp undertone; despite the dire circumstances, his sore heart would not be dissuaded from making itself heard.

“Thank you,” Turgon replied with humble simplicity.

“I’m Idril,” the girl piped up, holding out a tiny hand for Finrod to shake solemnly. “Very nice to meet you, Mister Finrod.”

Clenching his jaw, Finrod thought that many another person might have found her adorable, but he couldn’t oversee the deep trauma and depthless sadness that had turned this little girl into a tiny adult—polite, charming, and caring—beyond what her age promised.

She was supposed to gobble up ice cream and demand to be heeded by her father, not hold back her tears and suppress her weariness.

“Hello Idril,” he replied, leaning closer to the child’s golden head. “I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.”

“Are you a good doctor? Do you have kids?” she asked, seemingly emboldened by her father’s admission of familiarity and trust.

“I’m excellent,” Finrod answered truthfully with a wink. “And no, unfortunately, I don’t. Maybe, that’s why I take care of other people’s children.”

“It’s hard work,” she scoffed and patted her father’s shoulder in a gesture reminiscent of a mother’s indulgent empathy and pride rather than the puerile affection that Finrod had come to expect from girls her age. “Daddy is doing his best, but my cousin keeps running away.”

There was scorn in her voice now—she’d also lost her mother, but unlike her unruly relative, she’d turned her fear and pain inward rather than unleashing it onto the world in acts of impuissant rebelliousness.

“Can you help my father too? You like children, right?”

Taken aback, Finrod almost missed a step and had to grip the railing to keep from tumbling down the stairs.

If only Turgon had made the same offer, Finrod would have agreed at once, casting aside both pride and residual resentment to finally get a taste of the bliss he knew they could share.

Unfortunately, Turgon, true to himself, did no such thing. Instead, he gave his daughter a stern glance and shook his head almost imperceptibly.

He furthermore refused to eat anything, only accepting a cup of coffee after much coaxing, and buried his head in his long-fingered hands in silent despair as soon as they’d sat down by the scratched table, reeking of disinfectant.

“We’re doing our best,” Finrod promised. “He’s in good hands!”

To his surprise, Turgon pried one hand off his weary, pale face and extended it to him in a wordless plea for more substantial reassurance.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” he whispered after having ascertained that Idril was sufficiently distracted by her frozen treat. “I must have dialled your number a thousand times, but what was I to say? I…I didn’t want to force you into accepting the burdens of my life—grief, loss, despair, and two young children—just because we were childhood friends.”

Scoffing, Finrod leaned back without letting go of Turgon’s hand, effectively pulling the other back into an upright sitting position.

“You’ve always been such a stuffy fool,” he grunted. “I would have been honoured and delighted to share the load.”

“I’ve married someone else,” Turgon hissed accusingly.

Finrod was not sure whether he was struggling with his own suppressed, misplaced sense of guilt or if he wanted to get a rise out of him, but he was too tired and heartsick by far to be goaded into a senseless fight.

“And I don’t hold that against you. You had plans and dreams, and I’ve never wanted anything other for you than to achieve them.”

At that, Turgon’s head snapped up, his eyes feverish and his mouth agape. “Really?”

“Of course! I won’t deny that I might have eaten half a tub of ice cream and watched a few soppy movies, but…” He nodded at Idril who was valiantly but vainly battling the instinct to crawl onto her father’s lap and close her eyes. “She’s perfect.”

“She is,” Turgon agreed. “She’s suffered so much. I…I hate that I can’t keep them safe—what good am I if I can’t even do that?”

“She is safe,” Finrod murmured soothingly, tightening his hold on Turgon’s cold, clammy fingers. “And we’ll do whatever we can for your nephew. Trust me as you once did!”

He looked over at Idril again before checking his phone.

“My colleague has started a treatment,” he informed his friend in the carefully detached voice of a professional. “I live just down the street. Why don’t you take the girl over, put her to bed, and I’ll be with you in a moment? I’ll go check on him now, but until the morning, none of us will be any the wiser. You must sleep! He’ll need you when he wakes up.”

Finrod could see that Turgon wanted to protest by the way his dull gaze flared into life, but then, he settled down almost instantly.

He stood and lifted his sleeping daughter into his arms once more.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “I do trust you.” He gave a bone-weary sigh. “I miss moments like this,” he admitted shamefacedly. “It feels so good not to be alone with an earth-shattering catastrophe for once.”

Pushing himself up on his tiptoes, Finrod pressed a tender kiss onto the waxy cheek of the one he’d always loved a little more than he should have. “Leave it to me—I’ll be home shortly!”

They walked towards the exit side-by-side, revelling in the echoes of a friendship they’d erroneously believed to be dead and buried.

“Hey,” Turgon called softly, shifting Idril to his other hip. “How come you’ve gone into peds?”

“You know me,” Finrod replied with a shrug. “You had a kid, and I wanted to be ready, just in case you’d ever waltz back into my life.”

His face fell. “Now, I wish I’d never even thought of so cruel a scenario. I…am sorry. I never wanted this to happen.”

“Me neither,” Turgon sighed. “But I’m glad you’re here. See you soon?”

“Very soon,” Finrod promised. “With good news, I hope.”

↬ Masterlist

Thank you so much for joining me on this new adventure.

@fellowshipofthefics here's the last (?) one for May!

Lots of love from me!

meet mica

Mica is a 1994 Mitsubishi Delica L300 imported from Osaka, Japan. This year marks her 30th birthday, which in car years makes her a major grandma with six years of life experience on the both of us. As with any of our elders, we have learned an immense amount from her already - she is a little stubborn, tough as hell, and gives back even more to us than we unto her.

When we met Mica, she was imprisoned by the horrifying confines of a used car dealership. With no rust we could tell she had good bones, but she seemed neglected and we had to do something about it. Plus, considering we were running on a fresh-out-of-college budget, it didn’t hurt that she cost much less coin currency than her similarly imported siblings. We drove five hours to go pick her up and purchased her without hesitation (after spending four hours on the phone with insurance). We love insurance agents! They are so respectful of your time and so helpful in convincing you that you will cause $150k in damage to a local bridge. Finally we were on the road home as full of excitement and spirit as two young people could possible be driving their brand-new-super-old future home on wheels. Surely the only challenges would be steering from the wrong (right) side of the road and the 65mph top speed.

Halfway home, we took a mandatory Subway pitstop, ready to tackle the last couple of hours in the dark. Oh yea, we forgot to mention that the forecast leading into this weekend was a winter storm. But anyways, we forged on with hope in our hearts and Subway in our stomachs. At a certain point we noticed that the windshield wipers were slowing down a bit - “must just be the heavy wind and rain”, we said. Kept going. A little while later the headlights looked dim on the pitch black road- “our first upgrade should be new headlights”, we said. Kept going. After a few more minutes, the rapidly dropping fuel gauge needle caught our eyes - “FUCK”, we said, as the naivety finally started to fade. We had just filled up, so either we had a gaping hole in our fuel tank, or something worse… Surprise! It was something worse.

Internally full panic mode, externally calm. Neither of us would dare say a word.

Enter, Saugerties, NY. A small town off the highway which now holds a very specific spot in our hearts. We pulled into a gas station with relief and shut the car off. Mind you, this was still our first time taking this grandma out for a spin, and the first time this grandma had been out for a proper spin since we were born. After gathering ourselves and laughing at what might have been the scariest drive either of us had ever taken, we tried cranking her up again…

nothing.

The rest of the story isn’t underwhelming, but for the sake of the tumblr character limit, we'll just say it involves no ubers or AAA due to a state of emergency for the impending winter storm (which never came), a very kind gas station clerk who may have accidentally shorted our battery but also gave us food and water (guess we looked desperate), our first trip in a cop car (if you didn’t know you can’t let yourself out from the inside), a two night stay at a very comfortable Comfort Inn, and more auto shop phone calls than we have ever made in a 48 hour span (previous record: 0).

Eventually we were picked up by an extremely kind lady named “Mom” and she took us back home while Mica was towed to the only local shop which would dare take an old diesel van. The shop was great, but held onto Mica for over three months just to replace the alternator (the primary culprit) and change a few fluids. Despite being restless from our time apart and dented by a large bill, we were eager to dive into the abyss of building a mobile-home-studio-temple-spaceship. And thus commences over a year of dusk-till-dawn work, non-stop learning, unlearning, and a newfound friendship with Murphy’s Law…

TN KM

ménage, chapter two

previous chapter, masterlist there’s two worlds, so obviously two world building chapters. meet the borrowers clare pov

Waking up to absolute chaos was- normal. It’s an effective alarm, to Clare at least. “Otis and Teddie do not kill each other before breakfast!”

It was a borrower’s cue to get up when the noises in the home around them died down. And in addition- a good clue was when other borrowers started yelling at each other. Clare took in the mostly vacant room around her. Her brother’s bed next to her was empty- as with Audwin and Teddie’s across the room. On her other side, though, Kye slept soundly. The bedroom was in the process of getting redone. It was a big deal, to have the extra supplies necessary- but it helped when one of the humans on the other side of the wall had taken up sewing recently. Needles, fabric, and string were arguably the top three supplies borrowers needed, and now there was a surplus at all times. The five old matchboxes were pushed away from the walls, which Clare and Otis painted yesterday with an abandoned tube of acrylic paint somebody had lost under the radiator. New fabric had been hung over their ‘doorway’ for privacy, and a new battery was found for the LED tea light that had been dead for years. Clare was tying her hair up when the fabric at the entrance was pushed to the side. “Oh, you’re up.” Audwin smiled at her, turning on the light. “I was just coming in to wake you.” “Kye’s still asleep.” “I’ll get her, you go get ready for tonight's run.” Clare nodded, stepping past the older man and into the living area. It mirrored the human one, as close as it could. Where the humans had a big sofa, there were old spools pushed in a line. Instead of a coffee table, Teddie and Audwin had rolled in an old bottle cap. There was no TV, but after some struggle Otis and Clare got a sticker designed with birds onto the wall. Only after unsticking it from Otis, of course. Kye insisted they find leaves and small flowers from outside to keep in the corner like the human’s big plant. Kye, of course, had never actually seen the real living room before. Audwin’s rule was to wait until eleven to borrow, which Kye had done last week. Which Clare through was stupid since all four young borrowers came under his wing after a borrowing trip on their own gone wrong. Or maybe that just proved his point. Either way, Kye had the older borrowers describe the home past the walls enough time to probably walk through with her eyes closed. She tried her hardest to recreate their own home in a similar manner- using the poor supplies they had. It was a big reason for the redo. Despite living in the walls of Wynn’s Orphanage since Audwin was “just a speck of a boy”, his words, the place looked pretty much the same. They had the same ‘furniture’ since Otis and Clare met Audwin seven years ago. But they were redoing it for Kye, so she can get the authentic human home look to herself. And just to make sure they nailed it- she was to join the other four in borrowing. “Good night,” Clare said, joining Otis and Teddie in the main room. They were messing around with their tools, jabbing each other and dodging hits. “It is possibly too early for this?” “Hello to you too, Clare. We’re practicing our skills!” Otis grinned “What if we come across a mouse or something?” “Poking the dull end of a needle into Teddie’s side will not save you from a mouse.” “Sheesh, somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” Teddie said and Audwin ushered a half asleep Kye into the room. “What does that one mean?” The younger girl asked. Her fascination with the humans didn’t stop at their furniture. Teddie liked to repeat odd phrases he heard past the walls and teach Kye about what Clare hoped was the right definition. Hell if she knew through. “It means Clare is being a grumpy buzzkill because we woke her up so early.” “Close enough,” Audwin sighed. Unlike Teddie, Clare trusted him to know what the human sayings meant. “Kye,” Otis says, “Are you ready for your first borrowing trip tonight?” The girl’s face lights up instantly, all traces of sleep gone. She knew it was coming soon, but Audwin didn’t tell her the actual date so it could be a surprise. I smile. “Baby’s first borrow!” Audwin had taught Clare and Otis everything they knew about borrowing and gave Teddie all the tricks in the book. There was no one better suited to teach Kye. Clare could still hear Audwin’s rules when she borrowed, even if he wasn't there with her. Like a ghost over her shoulder, or a whisper in the wind: ‘only borrow what will not be missed.’ That corner of the tissue that a human won’t notice is gone. The one petal of a flower that people just assumed fell away. A sugar cube that they won’t care to look for. That bottle cap that missed the recycling bin. Or the sewing needle that the human’s simply thought they misplaced. It was how borrowers survived. Only necessities to remain under the radar. And maybe splurging for the first time in decades to get a bit of a redo. “Kye will come with me tonight,” Audwin said, packing his bag. “I need to cancel out the reckless tips Otis has given her.” “Hey!” “And this way I can really take my time showing her around as you three get what we need.” “Sounds good.” Teddie said, swinging his pack over his shoulder. I passed him a hook before sliding a sewing pin through my pant leg, letting my hand rest against the white circle on the end. Otis was geared up and ready as well, so we waved goodbye and set off- leaving Audwin to explain each tool to Kye. She already knew most of it- after all she’d been watching us eagerly since Teddie found her last year. But it was a more in depth explanation this time. And this time it mattered. “It’s gonna be useful to have the extra pair of hands around here.” Teddie said as we walked. “Now we don’t need to keep somebody home to watch over her.” Otis nodded. “It’s really like, two extra pairs.” “And Kye’s fast. We can use that.” Otis twisted his hook in his hands. “What’s our stops for tonight, boss?” Teddie thought for a moment. “We’re low on sugar, but we also haven’t been using it as much. I don’t know if we need more, but likely Audwin and Kye will grab some since it’s an easy catch for beginners. But we definitely need more tissues, water, and general food.” “So, kitchen and literally any other room for the tissues.” “What about that one bedroom upstairs?” Otis suggested. “That way we can also scout for new sewing tools.” “It’s not a great night for long multi-floor trips.” Teddie shook his head. “Megan’s room is a trip for another time.” “How do you know it’s Megan?” Clare asked. “That’s the name engraved onto the box. And although we don’t use the paths on the upper floor often, Audwin told me it would be a good idea to memorize them. There’s five rooms up there, each with different supplies. Megan’s is really the only useful one.” “Audwin didn’t tell us it was a good idea to memorize them.” Clare frowned, with no actually sadness behind it. Her and Otis liked to tease Teddie for being Audwin’s undisclosed but very obvious favorite. Maybe it was because he was the oldest and most rational of the youngers, or maybe it was his natural borrowing skill- but Teddie was Audwin’s 2.0. Otis tsked. “Wow, favorite privilege.” “I’m nineteen, guys. Just more mature, you know.” “Sixteen is so mature in borrower terms!” Otis countered. “If we lived with a typical family, we’d have moved out to face the world a year ago! This is adulthood, boss!” “But we aren’t really a ‘typical family’ are we?” Teddie asked. “None of us are related, all of us are abandoned. You and Clare got separated from family at age nine, Clare with a broken leg and neither of you in condition to live. Audwin may not be your parent but he sure as hell raised you to be the borrowers you are today.” “What's your point?” Clare asked. It had started as some light hearted bickering, but Teddie seemed to know what he was talking about on a more serious level.  “Maybe he hasn't taken memorizing this home a step further with you guys because he thinks it's only a matter of time before you move out.” “Did he tell you that?” “No, but I’ve thought of it myself.” “Of us moving out or you?” Otis asked. “Honestly? Both.” The conversation ended there. The three of them walked in silence to their first stop- the kitchen. Clare thought about what Teddie said about moving out. She never lingered on the topic for too long, but clearly he did. Were her and Otis over staying some welcome by still staying with Audwin at sixteen? Did he not tell them about the paths upstairs because he didn’t want them sticking around long enough to need the information? Teddie was by far more mature and a better borrower than them. It was plausible. “Okay.” Teddie broke her from her thoughts, likely for the best. “Water and food.” He ducked under some wires and shouldered an outlet out of place. “Kitchen time.”

wc: 1540 as always, plot starts text chapter the past two were jsut world building dw

Automotive Electric Repair: Common Issues and Solutions

Introduction

In today's modern vehicles, electrical systems play a crucial role in powering various components and ensuring the smooth operation of the vehicle. However, electrical issues can occur, causing inconvenience and potentially compromising the safety of the vehicle. In this comprehensive guide, we will explore common automotive electric repair issues, their causes, and provide practical solutions to address them effectively.

1. Dead Battery

A dead battery is one of the most common electrical issues encountered by vehicle owners. It can occur due to various reasons, including:

Old or Faulty Battery: Over time, batteries can lose their charge-holding capacity or develop internal faults, leading to a dead battery.

Parasitic Drain: Certain components or systems, such as a malfunctioning alternator or a faulty electrical connection, can cause a parasitic drain on the battery, depleting its charge even when the vehicle is not in use.

Leaving Lights On: Accidentally leaving headlights, interior lights, or other electrical components on can drain the battery.

Solution:

To address a dead battery issue, follow these steps:

Jump-Start: Use jumper cables and another vehicle with a charged battery to jump-start your vehicle. Ensure you connect the cables correctly, following the manufacturer's instructions.

Battery Replacement: If the battery is old or faulty, consider replacing it with a new one. Consult your vehicle's manual or seek professional assistance to ensure you choose the correct battery for your vehicle.

Parasitic Drain Inspection: If the battery continues to drain even when the vehicle is not in use, have a professional mechanic inspect for any parasitic drains and repair them accordingly.

2. Faulty Alternator

The alternator is responsible for charging the battery while the vehicle is running and powering the electrical components. A faulty alternator can result in various electrical issues, including:

Dimming Headlights: If the headlights dim or flicker while driving, it may indicate a problem with the alternator.

Battery Not Charging: If the battery is not charging properly, it can lead to a dead battery or constant battery drain.

Electrical Component Malfunctions: A faulty alternator can cause various electrical components, such as power windows, radio, or air conditioning, to malfunction.

Solution:

To address a faulty alternator issue, consider the following steps:

Battery Voltage Check: Use a multimeter to check the voltage of the battery while the vehicle is running. If the voltage is significantly lower than the recommended range, it may indicate a faulty alternator.

Professional Inspection: Have a professional mechanic inspect the alternator for any faults or malfunctions. They may recommend repairing or replacing the alternator, depending on the severity of the issue.

Alternator Replacement: If the alternator is deemed faulty, consider replacing it with a new or rebuilt alternator. Ensure you choose the correct alternator for your vehicle's make and model.

3. Blown Fuses

Fuses are designed to protect electrical circuits from overloading and prevent damage to the vehicle's electrical components. Blown fuses can occur due to various reasons, including:

Electrical Overload: If a circuit is overloaded with excessive current, it can cause the fuse to blow.

Short Circuit: A short circuit occurs when a hot wire comes into contact with a ground wire or metal component, causing a surge of current that can blow the fuse.

Solution:

To address blown fuse issues, follow these steps:

Identify the Blown Fuse: Locate the fuse box in your vehicle and identify the fuse that has blown. Consult your vehicle's manual or the fuse box cover for the specific fuse's location and rating.

Replace the Fuse: Using a fuse puller or a pair of needle-nose pliers, carefully remove the blown fuse and replace it with a new fuse of the same rating.

Investigate the Cause: If the new fuse blows immediately or shortly after replacement, it indicates an underlying issue, such as a short circuit. In such cases, it is recommended to have a professional mechanic inspect and repair the electrical system.

4. Malfunctioning Power Windows

Power windows provide convenience and ease of use, but they can sometimes malfunction. Common issues with power windows include:

Window Stuck in One Position: The window may get stuck in either the fully closed or fully open position, preventing proper operation.

Slow or Jerky Movement: The window may move slowly or jerkily when attempting to open or close it.

No Response: The window may not respond at all when the switch is pressed.

Solution:

To address power window issues, consider the following steps:

Check the Window Switch: Inspect the window switch for any signsof damage or malfunction. Clean the switch contacts and ensure proper connection.

Inspect the Window Regulator: The window regulator is responsible for the movement of the window. Check for any signs of damage or wear. Replace the regulator if necessary.

Lubricate the Window Tracks: Apply a silicone-based lubricant to the window tracks to ensure smooth movement.

Check the Window Motor: If the window still does not function properly, the window motor may be faulty. Have a professional mechanic inspect and replace the motor if needed.

5. Troublesome Wiring

Faulty or damaged wiring can cause a range of electrical issues in a vehicle. Some common symptoms of troublesome wiring include:

Intermittent Electrical Problems: Electrical components may work sporadically or unpredictably.

Flickering Lights: Lights may flicker or dim unexpectedly.

Blown Fuses: Frequent blown fuses can indicate wiring issues.

Solution:

To address troublesome wiring, follow these steps:

Visual Inspection: Inspect the wiring harnesses for any visible damage, such as frayed wires or loose connections. Repair or replace any damaged wiring.

Use a Multimeter: Use a multimeter to test the continuity and resistance of the wiring. Identify any faulty or damaged sections and repair or replace them accordingly.

Professional Assistance: If you are unable to locate or repair the wiring issue, it is recommended to seek professional assistance from a qualified mechanic or auto electrician.

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQ)

Q1: How often should I replace my vehicle's battery?

A1: The lifespan of a vehicle's battery can vary depending on various factors, such as driving conditions and maintenance. On average, a battery may last between 3 to 5 years. However, it is recommended to have the battery tested regularly and replaced if it shows signs of deterioration or fails to hold a charge.

Q2: Can I replace a blown fuse with a higher-rated fuse?

A2: No, it is not recommended to replace a blown fuse with a higher-rated fuse. Fuses are designed to protect electrical circuits and components from damage. Using a higher-rated fuse can lead to electrical overload and potentially cause damage to the wiring or components. Always replace a blown fuse with a fuse of the same rating.

Q3: Why do my power windows work intermittently?

A3: Intermittent power window issues can be caused by various factors, including faulty switches, wiring issues, or a malfunctioning window motor. It is recommended to inspect and troubleshoot each component to identify the underlying cause and address it accordingly.

Q4: How can I prevent electrical issues in my vehicle?

A4: Regular maintenance and inspection of the electrical system can help prevent potential issues. Ensure the battery connections are clean and secure, check for any signs of wiring damage, and have the charging system tested periodically. Additionally, avoid overloading electrical circuits by not using excessive aftermarket accessories.

Q5: Should I attempt to repair electrical issues in my vehicle myself?

A5: While some minor electrical issues can be addressed by vehicle owners, it is recommended to seek professional assistance for complex or potentially dangerous electrical repairs. Auto electricians or qualified mechanics have the expertise and knowledge to diagnose and repair electrical issues effectively and safely.

Conclusion

Understanding common automotive electric repair issues and their solutions is essential for maintaining the functionality and safety of your vehicle. By addressing these issues promptly and seeking professional assistance when needed, you can ensure a reliable and efficient electrical system in your vehicle. Regular maintenance and inspection are key to preventing potential electrical problems and prolonging the lifespan of your vehicle's electrical components.

Choosing the Right Motorcycle Battery: A Buyer's Guide

Finding the perfect battery for your motorcycle isn't just about keeping it running; it's about ensuring your ride is smooth, reliable, and ready for adventure whenever you are. With the myriad of options out there, zeroing in on the right one can feel like finding a needle in a haystack. But don't fret! This guide will steer you through the maze, focusing on the all-important BCI group size among other factors, ensuring you make an informed choice that powers your journey for miles to come.

Why the Right Battery Matters

Choosing the right battery for your motorcycle is akin to selecting the best fuel for a race car; it directly impacts performance, reliability, and the overall riding experience.

Understanding BCI Group Size

The BCI group size is essentially the battery's physical dimensions and terminal configuration. Think of it as finding a new home for your motorcycle's heart; it needs to fit perfectly to keep the engine beating strong.

Types of Motorcycle Batteries

From traditional lead-acid to modern lithium-ion, each type of battery offers its own set of benefits and drawbacks, tailored to different riding styles and preferences.

Assessing Your Riding Needs

Whether you're an off-road adventurer or a city cruiser, your riding habits play a crucial role in determining the best battery for your motorcycle.

Voltage and Capacity Considerations

Voltage and capacity are the blood pressure and heart rate of your motorcycle; they need to match your motorcycle's requirements for optimal performance.

Maintenance Requirements

Understanding the maintenance needs of different types of batteries can save you time, money, and headaches down the road.

Compatibility and Fit

Ensuring your new battery's specifications align with your motorcycle's requirements is critical. This includes the BCI group size, which guarantees a perfect fit and hassle-free installation.

Brand and Warranty

Opting for reputable brands and checking warranty terms can shield you from future troubles, providing peace of mind with your purchase.

Installation Tips

Installing a new battery should be straightforward, but a few pro tips can make the process even smoother, ensuring you're back on the road in no time.

Recycling Your Old Battery

Batteries are not just trash; they're recyclable resources. Proper disposal benefits the environment and may even save you money on your new purchase.

Troubleshooting Common Battery Problems

Familiarizing yourself with common battery issues and their fixes can extend the life of your battery and improve your riding experience.

Future Innovations in Motorcycle Batteries

The horizon is bright with potential advancements in battery technology, promising longer life, faster charging, and improved sustainability.

Conclusion

Choosing the right motorcycle battery doesn't have to be a daunting task. By understanding key factors such as BCI group size, battery type, and your specific riding needs, you can make an informed decision that enhances your motorcycle's performance and your overall riding enjoyment. Remember, the right battery not only starts your engine; it powers your adventure.

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The Essential Automotive Tools Every Car Owner Should Have

When it comes to maintaining and fixing your car, having the right automotive tools is crucial. Whether you are a seasoned mechanic or a DIY enthusiast, having a well-equipped toolbox can save you time, money, and frustration. In this article, we will explore some essential automotive tools that every car owner should have in their collection.

Socket Set: A comprehensive socket set is a must-have for any car owner. It includes a variety of socket sizes to fit different bolts and nuts. Whether you are changing the engine oil or replacing brake pads, a socket set will come in handy.

Wrenches: Wrenches are another essential tool for automotive repairs. They are used to tighten or loosen bolts and nuts. It's a good idea to have both metric and standard wrench sets to cover all your needs. Combination wrenches, adjustable wrenches, and torque wrenches are some of the common types to consider. See page for remarkable brake line kit manufactures.

Screwdrivers: A set of screwdrivers is essential for removing or installing screws in your car. It's advisable to have both flathead and Phillips head screwdrivers in different sizes. They are often needed for interior repairs, electrical work, and various other tasks.

Pliers: Pliers are versatile tools that can be used in various automotive tasks. They are handy for gripping, twisting, cutting wires, and holding small objects. Needle-nose pliers, locking pliers, and wire cutters are some types of pliers you should include in your toolbox.

Jack and Jack Stands: If you plan to work on your car's wheels or perform any maintenance underneath, a reliable jack and jack stands are essential. They allow you to lift and support your vehicle safely, providing the necessary clearance for repairs or tire changing.

Oil Filter Wrench: When it comes to changing your car's oil filter, an oil filter wrench is a must. It helps you remove the old oil filter and install the new one with ease. Make sure to get the right size of the filter wrench for your car's filter.

Air Compressor: Having an air compressor in your garage can be extremely useful. It can inflate your car tires, power pneumatic tools, and clean debris from hard-to-reach areas. Look for a portable air compressor with sufficient power and airflow for your needs.

Battery Charger: If you ever find yourself with a dead battery, a battery charger can be a lifesaver. It helps recharge your car's battery and get you back on the road in no time. Opt for a smart charger that automatically shuts off when the battery is fully charged.

These are just a few of the essential automotive tools that every car owner should have. While there are many other specialized tools available, having a well-rounded collection will take care of most common repairs and maintenance tasks. Investing in the 4lifetimelines quality tools will not only make your job easier but also save you from potential headaches down the road.

Remember, if you are not confident in your abilities or the complexity of the repair, it's always wise to seek professional help rather than risking further damage to your vehicle. Check out this post: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Matco_Tools for more information about this topic.

Bike posting

Today's Thing I Did is some fixing-up of my motorcycle. It's a 1981 Yamaha XS400. I got it for free, but as you can guess, that doesn't actually mean free...

To get it road legal when I got it, I had to replace both tires, replace the seals in the front suspension, replace the corroded start button, and repair the front brake cylinder. Since I got it running, I've also had to add a windshield, replace the seals in the carburetors, the air filters, tachometer cable, the right side muffler, patched the left muffler (where the right muffler coming off ripped a mount off the left side), replace the front brake lever/resevoire, the battery, and a few frayed wires. I also DIY'd side saddle bags out of old ammo cans, at least that part was fun!

Today's fix was the tachometer, mirror, and headlight. Some gears in the old tach started slipping, Making a loud buzzing noise and the needle to bounce around. Not user serviceable, so I bought a used one and swapped it out. A bit disappointed the paint on the outer ring is worn off on the replacement, I might try to repaint it later.

The side mirror broke off when a freak storm rolled through a couple weeks ago with hurricane level winds; strong enough that it tipped the bike over, smashed the mirror off, dented one of the side saddles, and ripped up the rain cover (and also dumped gas on the ground, because carburetors don't like being sideways). For the mirror, epoxy with zip ties to cinch it down while it cures overnight.

The headlight was, as far as I can tell, original, or at least was replaced soon after it was bought. By today's standards, it's atrocious both in terms of light distance and pattern. The assembly is a sealed beam setup, that means I can't just swap the bulb, the whole thing's gotta go. The new assembly has a replaceable car headlight as a bulb, so hopefully this won't be a problem any more. I'll have to wait for dark to aim it properly.

Future plans are... To wait and see what breaks. The whole point of this thing is "get me from A to B as cheap as possible" (doing pretty good at that with 60+ mpg), so I'm not trying to restore it to like-new or anything. I'm keeping an eye on everything made of rubber. Since the thing is over 40 years old, most of the rubber bits are completely thrashed. In particular, the turn signal stalks are pretty wobbly from the disintegrating rubber bumpers, so those might be next.

Grinch and Jack Skellington Kansas City Chiefs HalloThankMas shirt

Grinch and Jack Skellington Kansas City Chiefs HalloThankMas shirt

The best Christmas memories are from church. There was a Grinch and Jack Skellington Kansas City Chiefs HalloThankMas shirtcandlelight service at our church. When I got older, I was allowed to walk down the aisle and stop at every pew, and the first person seated would light their candle from the big one I carried. When all the candles were lit, the lights would go off, and a hush would always fall over the congregation as we all sat in the dark with our lit candles glowing brightly. We sang all the old Christmas hymns, such as Silent Night, O Little Town Of Bethlehem, We Three Kings, and more. I was always mesmerized as the Pastor told the story of Christ’s birth, and usually there was a live nativity made up of real farm animals and little kids playing the parts. There was always a children’s time, when the Pastor called the little children to come and sit up front, near the alter, while he told them a story having to do with the birth of Jesus, and gave each kid a candy cane. Christmas Eve services were so great back then. Now there are no candles, just little battery operated lights, and the service is held at either 3 pm or 6 pm, because families are too busy to stay up so late on Christmas Eve.

Buy It Now:Grinch and Jack Skellington Kansas City Chiefs HalloThankMas shirt

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Micah Parsons Dallas Cowboys always hungry art shirt

Funny Parasailing Saved Me From Being A Pornstar Now I’m Just A Paraglider Hawaiian Shirt

Regular Show T Shirt Ducks Bubbles Dance T Shirt

YOUTH CHICAGO BULLS NIKE PRACTICE GPX T SHIRT

But wait a The 1975 Noacf Photo New Shirt . Mars long time ago had the same conditions as earth(flowing water etc) but why did it become like this? All the atmosphere might have washed away by the solar wind . Even now due to solar wind 100grams(not sure of the number) of atmosphere of mars is washed away per year. So even if we now emit green house gases there they are going to be washed away and become useless. But its not happening to earth, because the solar wind cannot reach till the atmosphere , our magnetic feild stops it (yes we first need to pray for that magnetic feild looking at a compass needle). Mars has no magnetic feild (it has local magnetic feilds due to some astroids with metals collided with planet but doesnt work for our purpose). Since there is no magnetic feild all the plan is waste of time. 🙁 . But wait for earth magnetic feild always changes with ti

Grinch and Jack Skellington Kansas City Chiefs HalloThankMas shirt

The best Christmas memories are from church. There was a Grinch and Jack Skellington Kansas City Chiefs HalloThankMas shirtcandlelight service at our church. When I got older, I was allowed to walk down the aisle and stop at every pew, and the first person seated would light their candle from the big one I carried. When all the candles were lit, the lights would go off, and a hush would always fall over the congregation as we all sat in the dark with our lit candles glowing brightly. We sang all the old Christmas hymns, such as Silent Night, O Little Town Of Bethlehem, We Three Kings, and more. I was always mesmerized as the Pastor told the story of Christ’s birth, and usually there was a live nativity made up of real farm animals and little kids playing the parts. There was always a children’s time, when the Pastor called the little children to come and sit up front, near the alter, while he told them a story having to do with the birth of Jesus, and gave each kid a candy cane. Christmas Eve services were so great back then. Now there are no candles, just little battery operated lights, and the service is held at either 3 pm or 6 pm, because families are too busy to stay up so late on Christmas Eve.

Buy It Now:Grinch and Jack Skellington Kansas City Chiefs HalloThankMas shirt

Jack skellington halloween denver broncos 2023 shirt

Micah Parsons Dallas Cowboys always hungry art shirt

Funny Parasailing Saved Me From Being A Pornstar Now I’m Just A Paraglider Hawaiian Shirt

Regular Show T Shirt Ducks Bubbles Dance T Shirt

YOUTH CHICAGO BULLS NIKE PRACTICE GPX T SHIRT

But wait a The 1975 Noacf Photo New Shirt . Mars long time ago had the same conditions as earth(flowing water etc) but why did it become like this? All the atmosphere might have washed away by the solar wind . Even now due to solar wind 100grams(not sure of the number) of atmosphere of mars is washed away per year. So even if we now emit green house gases there they are going to be washed away and become useless. But its not happening to earth, because the solar wind cannot reach till the atmosphere , our magnetic feild stops it (yes we first need to pray for that magnetic feild looking at a compass needle). Mars has no magnetic feild (it has local magnetic feilds due to some astroids with metals collided with planet but doesnt work for our purpose). Since there is no magnetic feild all the plan is waste of time. 🙁 . But wait for earth magnetic feild always changes with time. So may be the same for mars. Wait for some years (not few) and then mars may develop magnetic feild. One more interesting thing mars doesnt have its own magnetic feild but sun has magnetic feild.

Home Page: Limotees

me. So may be the same for mars. Wait for some years (not few) and then mars may develop magnetic feild. One more interesting thing mars doesnt have its own magnetic feild but sun has magnetic feild.

Home Page: Limotees

Universe: 47-V-23

Planet: 78-ORVA-2

. . .

The creaking whirr of machinery has become, and will always remain, the melodious cacophony of the world that seldom sees the sun through the haze of blanketing smog and wood-smoke. Cogs are the choir; but the crackling, slithering wires are the chorus. Needle-point columns of marble and concrete stretch indefinitely into the sky, splitting clouds apart with deadly precision. Bulbs flicker in and out; a glittering wave of light that has no true end, that force the stars to hide from its endless glory, that shut the creeping darkness away with apt stubbornness. There are entire cities of insurmountable size with no occupants, facilities with their control panels left barren from the warm flesh of fingers, hospitals with fully-functional monitors and schools with blinking computer screens; all the pinnacle of advancement, of technology, but they lie barren. No sentient, biological life exists in this world of totalitarian advancement.

Disheveled masses of iron and gold and copper are the only things that shamble listlessly through crooked streets. They are the rulers of this metal-plated planet. With their creators long since gone, now just dust motes on the wind, the creations reign supreme. They might be called automations, robots, creatures with a thousand clicking tendons; but indeed, they fit no description, no label. Their brains are a network of 1s and 0s, their hearts are engines pulsating with slick fluid, their veins are wires, and their minds simmer along with deep-encoded programs: Work. Create. Advance.

They have no defined form. They see the perfect body as one that is the epitome of functionality. The more limbs, essentially, the better. They are an amalgamation of arms and spear-headed legs, a whirring, hissing freak of unnature. Each is entirely unique to the other, although have similarities depending on their occupation. Those digging for coal in mines have drills for their hands and heads and feet and thrumming core; hollow metal bags on their crooked spines to collect the daily harvest. Some tarry at the near-surface; tunneling into oil reservoirs and forcing the inky bile through pumps, their bodies constantly covered with slippery black liquid that splatters upon the dusty ground. Few are left to hack at the dwindling forests, but those who do have axes attached to their crane-like appendages, and can slice down an ancient redwood with a single, delicate slice. Even rarer so are those who balance upon a dozen spindly legs, gargantuan in height, with their base decidedly smaller and suspended in the sky like a metal puppet. They coax storms from the clouds that ache with pollution, and from the storms, they drag down lightning and its threads of snarling electricity with gold-hewn claws. They breathe the vibrant death into themselves, allow it to travel into containment below, but they do not melt, do not shatter from the overabundance of power. They barely even creak.

None of these so-called amalgamations lord over the other, though; there is no definable leader, there is only progress. If, however, you wanted to find one with a semblance of control, you would look not at the deep trenches of stone, nor the gaping maw of crackling space, but at the bustling movement of a ground covered with copper plates. These machines fix the others by scuttling up their sides and replacing old batteries or pouring oil in canisters or filling their furnaces with wood and coal. They patrol the cities and keep them up to order with constant and unfaltering persistence, they sketch blueprints of meaningless buildings only existing for the simplicity of existence, they keep track of malfunctions and correct them if they get out of hand. With an advanced AI, they are the ones that discover new exploits and- oddly enough- exhibit a sense of curiosity. It allows them to create new machine designs, to update their own, to find new solutions to seemingly impossible problems.

The only time this semi-intelligent unlife form is stumped, however, is when it chances upon a scampering, skittering creature with true blood running through true veins to get to its true, flesh-skinned heart, steadily pumping along. They have skin and fur and eyeballs that roll frantically in their sockets. They are far and few between, their feet are cracked with sharp grit as they pitter-patter on rock more rather than plant life, their ribs stick out like dead trees in a barren desert. Occasionally, they leave the comfort of dry woods and stumble into machine territory, which is slowly creeping closer and closer to their haven. More often than not, they are flattened by a careless stomp of metal, or cooked alive in boiling hot factories, but sometimes, they will meet a different fate. A sentinel machine might chance upon them, and as the smarter of the machines, they take a moment to pause. They do not understand, even with the width of their understanding. They hold the trembling animal with as much care as they can fathom between thick iron fingers, as gentleness was indeed encoded within their core, and try to understand. They do not understand. They will never understand, not completely.

If the animal is lucky, the machine may simply set it down on the ground again, and as a memory of blurry kindness resurfaces, brush a claw once meant for unscrewing bolts through mats of tangled fur. If the machine takes the time, it may even move the animal into shade, to a semblance of safety. But if the animal has a limp, an age-addled mind, or something of the sort, the machine may take it upon itself to 'fix' the poor wretch. Prosthetic limbs of flexible alloys, eyes that rust from the rain, artificial organs that thump and pulsate along. Even a new brain, an engine of the cranium. These now malformed animals are a shadow of what they once were, ambling across desolate cities instead of the natural land they were once a part of, their body dipping and swiveling and twisting and curling and creaking. They walk until they run out of fuel; instincts now only a distant visage. They have forgotten how to eat. How to breathe. How to fight. How to defend. How to live. How to love.

And all the while, as they are being transformed, the sentinel machine will chitter in an almost pleased manner, and if you listen close, you may even understand a sliver of their garbled murmurs. Perfection, they whisper. I will fix you, I will make you right, I will make you desirable. I will make you more than what you are, and what you are is imperfection.

The animal forgets how to run without tripping.

Imperfection.

The animal forgets how to seek shelter from danger.

Imperfection.

The animal forgets how to bite when it is captured.

Imperfection.

The animal forgets how to care for its mewling, starving young.

Imperfection.

The animal forgets how to be an animal. The animal is wrong, distorted, chattering along with bloody lips that tear into its metal hind in an effort to escape its artificial cage. It is afraid, but in time, it forgets how to be afraid.

And with this, the machine finally whispers, perfection.

Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.

The world that the machines lay waste to is dying. It is nearly drained of oil, once plentiful shores of coal have dried up, lightning storms cannot form in full strength with the absence of water, and forests are a rarity in itself. There is nothing but order, and in that order, there is destruction.

The machines do not care- or they do not realize- that their time upon this ravaged planet is coming to an end. They cannot stop. They will never stop, not until their engines run dry and their wires split at the seams. Then, perhaps, their skeletons will rest.

But there is no rest for the machines. Not yet. Not until the world around them goes up in a boiling mass of copper and metal and scraps of trembling flesh.

Not yet.