#ac welder
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Sephiroth is making my brain FIZZ this is so fun.
First of all, his voice actor in advent children???
The new remake one is excellent but just doesn't capture that same level of terrifying cultured menace. The smug evenness and it's DEEP wow yeah. So smooth. High key petrifying I don't know who he is but he did an outstanding job. That bit where he asks cloud to 'give him the pleasure of taking it away?' like the way his voice lilted up in casual question like good GRIEF that was hot.
Anyway I have another hc: sephiroth would have made an EXCELLENT scientist like his parents, he's certainly got the intellect and hunger for knowledge, not to mention his ability to do research for days on end XD. Supernova actually using astrophysics equations is absolutely fantastic and makes me think that's what he'd major in.
By that logic, he'd want to be in rocket town with the rocket, and he'd most definitely want to go to space himself if it was the last thing he did (ha).
Do you think he'd tie his hair back like his mum?
Anyway I imagine if he hadn't been a soldier and instead been free to choose his own path he'd have been right there the whole time being a child genius and getting into fights with cid about who gets to be the pilot (Co pilots. Co pilots is how it's supposed to work with normal planes never mind things that breach the atmosphere).
Like I understand the amount of redemption/fix it fics that have him be a merc with cloud or whatever but I feel we're ignoring the possibilities stemming from the fact this man canonically knows modern astrophysics and that is absolutely not something you can inherit via way of ancient inhuman semi deceased life form.
#Astrophysicist sephiroth please and thank you#With that AC voice he could recite his equations and I'd thank him#also qq what's with that one audio with sephiroth saying 'good girl' because he doesn't curse so I feel thats either from a different proje#With the same voice actor or like ai or smth.#Yeah so I feel like we're sleeping on the potential bizarre nature of cid and sephiroth being work buddies/rivals#Sephiroth is the one who handles the early stages theories and course plotting#Cid gets out his welder and makes the actual schematics or smth#If it was like an au any visitors would like wtf and cid/seph would be so confused like??? Decade old friends and trusted co pilots banter#And a redemption post canon would be so much tension and weirdness#Sephiroth would be the type to call his project partner at like 3am regardless of the time because he's had an idea.#The only way it'd work is through his determination to Do Physics and everyone else's desperation to keep him away from sharp objects XD#sephiroth#ff7#final fantasy vii#ffvii#ff7 sephiroth#ffvii sephiroth
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In an ideal world, we'd be able to tell you definitively which type of welding is the best. Then all you'd have to do is buy one type of welding machine and learn one method of welding, and you'd be done. Of course, this is unrealistic, because the truth is usually a grey area rather than a black-and-white situation.
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With the advent of electric cars, there's something very critical happening to North American infrastructure. No, it's not renewable energy. It certainly isn't a more stable electrical grid. And there's no way on God's green earth that electricity is gonna get cheaper. The important thing: level 2 chargers are now freely available in many urban centres.
Let me explain. You can plug an electric car into your regular-ass wall outlet. It takes a really long time to charge, and the cord gets kind of warm. In the terminology of the electric car mafia, that's "Level 1." Like in Mario, it's the level that sucks, but that teaches you how to get good by forcing you to be devoured by mushroom people or fall down a bottomless pit enough times. "Level 2" is where the interesting shit starts to happen.
Europeans have been blessed with 240 volts AC coming out of their wall since the dawn of time. That's twice as many volts as we've got, for many varied reasons that I don't actually care to look up right now. You can think of these volts as a sort of fire hose, pushin' electrons into your shitty homemade electric car. With more volts, you can push more electrons in less time. The Level 2 chargers are connected to 240 volts.
Other things are connected to 240 volts, friendos: welders. That's how I ended up in the Princess Auto parking lot, frantically trying to weld together my frame, while pretending that my 1977 Volare that I rolled into said lot is actually an electric conversion. Folks came and asked questions, sure, like "why is that car charger sparking so much" and "what's that odour?" None of them were familiar with Level 2 charging, though, not like you now are. They took my explanation at face value ("wireless charging," I explained, "the next big thing") and decided it would be risky for them to call the cops considering I now knew what their faces looked like.
Joke's on them, though. The old newspaper I was using as a face shield absolutely did not keep me from repeatedly blinding myself. Maybe one day, the electric car mafia will create a device that dispenses free sunglasses in every parking lot.
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source: My Old Man: Tales of Our Fathers by Ted Kessler
MY DAD HAS BEEN FAMOUS LONGER THAN I’VE BEEN ALIVE
Tim Healy by Matthew Healy
My name is Matthew Timothy Healy. I was born naked in north London in April 1989. I am told it was quite warm - which has been the case for most of my birthdays. I am an adult now, semi-clothed. My father spent those early years of my life working between England and Australia - back-to-back winters that had deprived him of the sun for almost four years. He told me he remembers my birthday being a bright and memorable time, golden-hued. He currently lives in the house in which I spent most of my childhood. In some ways it exists as a shrine to what once was - our family and what has been achieved. It is a feeling that is comforting and unsettling in equal measure.
My dad, at five foot seven, a baby-turned-milkboy-turned-welder-turned-comic-turned-actor, was born in the early 1950s to parents Malcolm and Sadie, in Birtley, Newcastle upon Tyne. He lived modestly up north, as a youngster and as a young man, with his brother, John, and their dog, Smartie (a dog that would later come to head-butt my dad in a moment of jestful play, resulting in him losing his bottom row of teeth. John once threw my dad over a wall, with the assumption that the drop on the other side was of equal height to that which he’d just hoisted his little brother over. It wasn’t. He landed right on his head and has had to wear glasses ever since).
He would work between various factories during the day and at night he would pursue his dream of becoming a stand-up comedian. He is a very funny man, my dad, whose charm and passion is articulated through his comedy, and his face exudes a type of warmth that one would expect from a northern English comedic actor. He laughs like Muttley off Wacky Races and whistles inane tunes that have never been heard before, for good reason.
My dad has been famous longer than I’ve been alive. He was at the height of his fame just before I was born, during Auf Wiedersehen, Pet. My parents being famous was always part of my reality: there are photos of their wedding with a crowd of a thousand people outside looking in, which is what their life has been like. I know nothing different, and it bled into the way I saw myself. My dad was a rags-to-riches character, so as soon as he saw a stem of creativity in me, he knew the importance of nurturing it so that I gained a sense of self. Me being creative was always emotionally, financially endorsed by my dad.
‘You’re John Lennon,’ he’s say, from the time I was six. He expected me to be a rock star, not in a superficial sense, but A Rock Star. Mark Knopfler from Dire Straits and Brian Johnson from AC/DC would occasionally come around to our house when I was growing up so it always seemed tangible. Rock stars walked among us. Welders, too. Dad has a dichotomy between being a working-class manual worker and a bohemian actor. I remember watching a Michael Jackson video with some of his welder mates when I was a kid and them saying he was from another planet. I thought, Yeah. My planet.
My parents always taught me that you get the good with the bad. So, if you want to live in a nice house and have nice holidays, then maybe Hello! Might have to come around your nice house or go on your nice holiday to take photos for their magazine. The Daily Mail and the Mirror went in a bit hard on my mum for a while, which was difficult for my dad as he’s not from the tabloid world that comes with being behind the bar at the Rovers Return. He had to deal with a wife who was clinically depressed, being hounded by the tabloids. What does he do to look after his wife? We got through it. And there’s stuff that people don’t know. We found a lot of security in that, knowing that they only knew so much.
I thought about this a lot when my band was breaking. My mum is on Loose Women. That’s not credible, that’s not cool. My dad is a credible actor but he’s well known too. Am I going to be perceived as an ITV boy-band thing? In the end I had to get over it. You can’t judge musicians by what their parents do. It isn’t going to work.
There are two things he always said to me, and always after a drink: ‘Be who you want to be.’ And ‘It’s in yer fucking bones, man!’ He empowered me. He acted in awe of me. Not in a sycophantic way, but as if I didn’t need his advice. If I had conviction, it would see me through - and that really rang true. Because I had a middle-class family I could get to twenty years old and still be working it out with the band.
I didn’t go to university. I worked in a Chinese restaurant, which stressed my mum out. ‘Is this band thing really going to become something?’ she’d ask.
My dad never questioned it. ‘Leave him alone, man, he’s fucking John Lennon, man.’ He believed in me unquestioningly from the moment I wrote a song called ‘ Robbers’ when I was eighteen. He bought us our first van. He converted the garage into a rehearsal space. His overt passion for us is instilled in our band. When our album went platinum all of the band made sure he got a disc. He’s the band’s dad.
The character he plays in Benidorm, who rides around on roller skates with a wig on and big boobs, is probably the one he sees the most of himself in. He told me he based it on a combination of Les Dawson and Tommy Cooper, which is my dad incarnate. If people ask me to describe my dad I say, ‘Combine those two. That’s him.’ The slapstick he plays is quite like his real persona. He’s a very, very good actor. It’s not strange to see my dad put on a wig and be someone completely different. When it looks and feels like my dad but there’s something else going on, that’s when it throws me. It’s the subtlety of my dad in the midst of a great performance that can really mess me up. If you’re involved in the physique and the aura and the knowledge of who that person is, when the minutiae of it change it’s quite alarming.
I steal a lot of lighters, which is something coincidentally I’ve stolen from my dad. We’ve stolen everybody’s lighter we’ve ever come into contact with. Superficially, I think I’m more like my mother. I’m quite erratic. I’m passionate and emotionally driven, whereas my dad is more subdued about those things. I think what I’ve got from my dad is my fear of not being proud of myself. Those are the times I’ve seen him at his lowest, when he regrets something he could’ve done, mainly from a creative perspective. I’ve seen him cut himself up over things that I wouldn’t have imagined he’d find that relevant or important. And then I find myself doing the same over a vocal take, or some small detail in a recording, and that’s when I feel him inside me. That’s when I know who I am.
Matthew Healy is the singer and guitarist with the 1975.
#matty healy#this essay is so sweet and I needed to share it with you all#the love he has for his dad is amazing#can’t relate#the 1975#ry.exe
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Everybody makes Ace a Firefighter and like yeah whatever fire powers fire job its the same innit? And okay I GUESS but first of all Ace learned to fight WITHOUT the fire powers and I don't think they're a part of his identity. Plus his schtick is that HES fire I don't think he gets control of fire unless he awakens his devil fruit. AND Oda said that if they had to have other jobs Luffy would be the firefighter. This is all to say that I think Ace would excel in the building trades. My man is a welder and card carrying member of the local. He says talk to my union rep when you ask him to do something he doesn't wanna and points at Sabo. The job is physical, social, works with fire, does not care about drug testing, and takes criminals. He can fight, he can talk shit, AND he can do math he surpasses all the requirements. None of you understand the building trades like I do. Finally they make hard hats that are shaped like cowboy hats.
#portgas d ace#i am jesus and you are my apostles#wait no im rabbi akiva and you are my students#one piece#mine#not smut#My writing
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Hey humans of this world!
The designation i go by is MSH-05 but me and my co workers call me Veil. please to meet y'all! as you may know i own a shop in paldea that contains Mushrooms, Oils, various medicinal plants, truffles and etc! we have a greenhouse for a few other grown things but we won't talk much about that~ anyways heres the team i go with:
Glow the breloom: found in those tera raid dens, has a rash nature, often will keep watch of the store with my coworkers if i need to do something real quick.
Branch the Ambroilva: lax nature, my ace in the hole this fella is my partner and best friendo, found when i 1st arrived here and stuck with me since. helps me with foraging.
Shiitake the toedscruel: careful nature, found him when i was lookin for mushrooms to collect 'n' study with, really likes to play with dirt.
lastly 'Death.' the petlil: much more bigger than average, found roaming around and came along for the ride, people say that to be careful of them but i cant see why thats the case, i don't see them doing anything wrong or somethin.
with that outta the way the fungi growth shop is open for all days except tuesdays and sundays! hope to see you people there!
Uh boss forgot about somethin.
Oh yeah my looks:
// blog is owned by mod of @wyrdo01 ,@flowroma-town-apiary ,@snowbell-glass-bar ,@slateport-welders-union ,@amperage-speedway, and @miss-fairylight-magician
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3rd Alice: "my Queen..." *bows gracefully "What is this green club of which you speak?"
the third Alice looks in confusion.
third Alice: "playing cards have suits right? the Spade, diamond, club, and finally the heart. well each of us once had one of these suits on our hands. most of us had them on our right hand. but the little pipsqueak boy had it on his left. something about when he and his sister would hold hands it would make a heart. but beat to ask the little book worm your self."
the third Alice shrugged. but then realised something.
third Alice: "ah but I did tell you that already didn't I. you want specifics don't you. well the Ace means death right it's also intelligence? its only natural that the Ace would give it's welder the ability and knowledge to kill anything. but its more on the subconscious scale. though that is all you'll get form me for now."
the third Alice gave a giggle
#character#ask blog#ask my ocs#alice and the human sacrifice#alice of human sacrifice#ask me anything#third alice#perhaps we are dwelling on things too long#each suit means a different thing after all and since were just at the start youll get to know the others later
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time for a newer intro!
Hello humans and Pokemon! I'm HVR-02 but I preferred to be called Apiary! I reside over at Floraroma town at a local beekeeping community. I love bug types and caring for such, but I prefer to tend to Combee the most! heres my team i care with/for:
Platina the Vespiquen: ace and partner Pokemon, bold nature, very protective of her own old hive and others she holds dear, and is much larger than your normal species.
Violin the lunatris: shiny Pokemon, brave nature, was saved and adopted by yours truly from an abusive trainer! likes to help me with cutting things.
Battery the Charjabug: was found hatched in the apiary a while ago, timid nature, is loved by everyone despite the skittishness of them!
Char the Roserade: hasty nature, helps with the apiary and voluntarily joined the team! he has canary yellow and red roses and has a beekeeper suit thanks to the person known as Roise!
Thistle the Mothim: lax nature, like to hog honey like a hoarder. and is mostly one braincelled!
Hephaistos the white dwarf volcrona: Quirky Nature, Hepa is somewhat reserved, but tries his best make friends! He doesn’t find it easy to connect with others, but he will not be discouraged and tries to adapt to those around him! best friends with Battery, and plays with a toy furnace!
Here are some other Pokemon that are with me!:
Elizabeth the female Combee: soon to beehouse hive queen, currently has at least 10 workers with her at my house
There's also my best friend now turned girlfriend Laz here! say hello to everyone Lazzy!
Hey there... my name is laz Light but i rather be called laz instead. i run a shelter that holds Bug types called the Hive Shelter. Apiary helps me tend to the place's pokemon there as well. im also a android or holoroid (man this im not getting used to doing any time soon...)..-Laz
heres the pokemon you'll see that are with me:
Lime the shiny Scizor
Reika the heracross
Lili the Liligant
Lacey the levanny
If y'all have any questions about tending to an apiary or want to adopt a bug type, you're more than welcome to request and I will send a forum for such! here's the master list of current available adopts:
Pelipper mail is always open! also sapient pokemon. fallers and even pokehumans are encouraged to interact here!
//OOC below:
Hey mod of Wyrdo's blog here Any interactions are welcome except for NSFW (suggestive mentions are allowed but will be tagged as such!) and high/ultra stakes! Hope you all enjoy her as much as I do! Still have very little experience in this sort of thing so bear with me on this.
Also major note here Is to take any knowledge bug caring and beekeeping with a grain of salt since I'm not expert on such
List of other blogs I own:
@wyrdo01
@snowbell-glass-bar
@veil05thegrasselementbot
@slateport-welders-union
@amperage-speedway
@miss-fairylight-magician
Additional info about Apairy's origins are being thought about as of now.
art of apiary by me
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Headcannons of Nightshade Libya
Night has her mother's(Bellatrix Libya) puppeteer ability
She bullies Kanato by stealing his teddy, burns the mfer and gives it back to him(She just likes to see him suffer)
Unlike Kanato who had a creepy ass fixation of dolls, Night had a healthy yet cute fixation of dolls(Making her better than Kanato)
Her two titles are The Doll-Maker and the Puppeteer
She has a cursed bunny plush named Kinisha since she was 2 years old which she takes very great care of
Her puppeteer form is her with her smile turning more darkly yet soft on her fingers, wrists, and ankles that have puppet strings(look at the red pic)
Her 13th mark is on the base of her throat
When she uses her 13th mark, it will show cracks until it is around her neck(Do not worry, it didn't hurt her in any way)
She had two domains; 1. Where the world of puppets, dolls, stuffed animals and 2. a large gothic mansion doll house with the double doors that reach the ceiling is chained shut
Kanato and Her have small arguments which lead to brutal fights(Night beat him up until she nearly killed him in a process and then she threw him in the lake near the Sakamaki Mansion)
In Diabolik Lovers: she is the silent girl in Night School
In HSR: she is a Navy Blue Rose from The Roses
GI: She is a hydro vision welder who wants to protect and slay anyone who hurt her loved ones
In TWST: She is one of the female housewardens. She is a house Warden to Sapphire Lake Dorm
Like Jeanne, she also kidnapped Yui to hang out with her and the girls(Not before beating Kanato and burying Reiji underground..)
She has a lot of pent up anger which sometimes scares Tsukii a lot
She loves NRC and Minako as a sister
She was usually taken away by any of her sister and friends whenever there is something going on
She looks like an easy target but..she is not~!
She has many weapons with her puppeteer ability but she rarely used them
She once confused Vil as a girl which caused her to cry when Ace told her..(That was before they started dating..)
She is very dangerous in her DOLL mode so...yea..
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The Lines We Cross: Chapter 16
High Class Heist
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Trust is the antidote that overcomes fear
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Sly scaled one of the ramshackle buildings on the deck and crouched on its roof, taking a moment to scan the area for anything different from the last time he’d been here. He could see Carmelita making a beeline for the front half of the ship from his perch; her silhouette was obscured in the dark of the storm but the way she moved was like a bright beacon compared to everyone else he knew was onboard. He waited until she was gone from his line of sight before turning his attention towards the stern.
He had told her that he didn’t know much about boats, and that wasn’t a lie. But he did know a lot about this one, and that was going to make all the difference.
Without any further dallying, the raccoon dropped down the other side of the building and sprinted for a large iron door tucked far out of sight that led to a descending stairwell. It was unlocked, just like he knew it would be, and he slipped inside and started heading downward.
The temperature increased tenfold from freezing outside rain to sweltering machinery air the deeper he got into the bowels of the ship. It was a heat he was both very familiar with and didn’t miss at all, and immediately his brow broke out in sweat as he dashed through steam-filled rooms and shimmied between scalding metal and open flames. There were a multitude of workers down here, too, but avoiding them was the easiest part – most of them were too absorbed in their work to even notice him, and he held his breath to slip by those that were a little more observant.
After only a few minutes of sneaking and dodging and hiding, Sly found himself in a place he hadn’t been to in weeks: the boiler room.
He stopped just inside, surprised to see the place empty, and looked around to make sure he was well and truly alone. All the engines were humming in a state of standby, ready and able to be pushed into overdrive at the single press of a button. They weren’t what he was here for, though – that prize was in the center of the room, larger than any of its kin and chugging along at max capacity.
Sly ran his fingers along the tiniest of dents in its outer shell. His eyes trailed to the ground, but no red stains could be found. Those dents were the only physical reminder of what had happened here only days before the raccoon had been picked up and sent to the States. He wondered, morbidly curious, whether the bodies had been disposed of in one of the open furnaces or if they’d been thrown out to sea.
There was no use dwelling on bad memories when he had a job to do, so he pulled out his cane and raised it over his head.
Heavy footsteps from behind him. The raccoon stiffened and turned around to see the walrus welder he had once been paired with standing just inside the doorway. She stared at him in shock before her expression hardened and her hand started going towards the radio at her hip.
“Wait! Just – wait,” he pleaded, holding his hands up like there was nothing wrong with the picture in front of her. It wasn’t quite as effective with his cane out, and he could see it in the way her eyes kept darting between it and his face with visible, suspicious confusion.
The look on her face suggested she wasn’t sure if he was going to jump her. If she were just a little bit closer, he probably would have.
“What are you doing here, kid?” She asked warily. One foot was bouncing erratically as though she was torn between retreating or advancing. “The boss never said anything about you coming back.”
“You’re right, this wasn’t planned. I wasn’t supposed to be back yet.” Lies were always more convincing with a grain of truth to them, he’d long ago discovered. The raccoon hoped with all his might that it would be enough this time. “But Raleigh brought me here because some of his colleagues have gotten caught, and he didn’t want me accidentally leaking info if I was caught, too.”
For a few seconds, it seemed like his deception was going to be successful. The walrus was starting to relax, bit by bit, and he slowly put his hands down in response. But then her gaze drifted to the machinery behind him, and her confused frown grew deeper and deeper.
“Isn’t that…” The moment realization hit her, the welder’s eyes went wide with shock and anger. She raised a finger at Sly that trembled with rage. “You’re trying to stall the ship.”
“What are you talking about?” Sweat trickled down his temple. “I’m just doing my job down here, same as you and everyone else.”
It wasn’t enough. She snarled – but instead of rushing forward to stop him like he thought, she turned on her heel and fled the room, and Sly’s entire body was flooded with ice in the middle of an inferno.
“Shit! Fuck!” He started to run after her, then stopped and glanced back at the chugging engine. It had to be destroyed, and this might be his only chance to do so safely – but if the walrus got away from him before her could stop her from making a call, then Raleigh was going to learn there was an intruder onboard.
Raleigh was going to learn he was onboard. He couldn’t let the frog know he was here, couldn’t be found, couldn’t be caught – because if he was caught then there’d never be a chance to escape again.
But the only way to truly escape was if the ship was trapped in the bay.
Sly inhaled and turned back around, swinging his cane with all his might at the machinery. The jolt of the impact ricocheted up his arms not unlike the tombstones in Mz. Ruby’s swamp, but he couldn’t afford to be unbalanced by it. He swung again, and again, and again, until the engine was a smoking, sputtering mess and he could hear everything around him start to power down.
Then he sprinted after the woman.
Through rooms, between furnaces, dodging heat and smoke and startled workers, the raccoon ran for all he was worth. There was only one way out of the engine room, which he raced for while praying to anything that might listen that he could catch her before it was too late. The stairwell was empty as he took the stairs two at a time, and his heart was in his throat when he burst out onto the deck.
Nothing. Not even a fleeing shadow. The walrus was gone.
Fuck! Fuck! Cào! Fuck!
Overwhelmed by terrified failure, Sly’s knees gave out beneath him and he was forced to prop himself up against the iron door as static crept up his limbs and into his lungs. It was over. She was going to tell Raleigh, and Raleigh was going to find him here. The frog would drag him kicking and screaming back into hell – if he was feeling forgiving about everything the raccoon had done to his colleagues.
And if he wasn’t feeling forgiving, if he decided to treat Sly like the thief that he was, then it was over.
You’re caught you’re caught you’re caught you’re dead –
His chest was burning.
Somehow, through a haze of panic, he reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out his burner phone, shaking so hard that he nearly dropped the tiny thing. As if on autopilot, staring out at the empty deck and the ocean waves beyond, he found one of two saved numbers and pressed the dial button.
“Ringtail?” Carmelita’s answering voice was a shock to his system, but not nearly enough to break him out of his distress. He held the phone close and struggled to stop hyperventilating. “Is that you? What’s that sound?”
“It’s – it’s me,” he managed between shallow gulps of air. “I’m – it’s – there’s a – a problem, I can’t…”
“A problem?” The sharp uptick in her tone made him flinch. “What kind of problem? Did someone see you?”
seen seen seen caught caught caught dead dead dead
“Yes! Seen, I was seen, we have to get out of here, kāi zǒu, we need to –”
“Okay, whoa, first you need to calm down. I’m going to count to ten and I need you to breathe in and out along with me. Okay?”
He wanted to scream. They needed to leave immediately, not stop to make him feel better!
“Sly. I need you to listen to me. We can’t make a plan until you’ve stopped panicking.” Her words left no room for argument. “I’m starting now. One.”
“Inspector –”
“One.”
Sly promptly shut up and inhaled as deeply as he could.
“Two.”
He exhaled.
“Three.”
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. By the time she uttered “ten”, the raccoon felt like he could actually move his body again. The explosion of panic in his head had lessened to a storm he could almost weather by himself.
His chest still ached.
“How are you feeling, Ringtail?”
“…Better.” It shamed him to admit it. How stupid he must look now; how unreliable he was when just the threat of getting caught had him shattering into pieces.
Even if it was over a very justified threat, it was still absolutely pathetic.
“Good.” There was no scolding or even mocking him for his weakness. The fox was all business, like usual, and he was eternally grateful for it. “Now, you said something about someone seeing you?”
“Yeah…” He tried to swallow the dryness in his mouth. “One of Raleigh’s goons saw me and ran off, and I lost track of her. She’s probably already told him or is on her way to.”
“Shit. Okay, we’re going to have to expedite our process, then. I’m going to call for reinforcements and warn them about the storm. Hopefully, either they’ll be able to make it through regardless or we can find a way to shut it down before they come.”
She sounded stressed but not angry, which threw him for a loop. She should’ve been furious over the sudden change in plans. That he had probably put the entire ship on red alert any minute now and forced them to improvise and risk more lives was enough reason to tell him to get lost until she cleaned up his mess.
But she didn’t do that, and she wasn’t angry – as much as he could tell over a call, anyway – and he pressed the phone a little closer to his ear in silent, secret gratitude.
“I…I don’t think they’ll have to worry about the storm for too much longer,” he tentatively added, looking up at the giant blimp. “The reason I was caught was because I stumbled onto what I think was an engine room, and I sorta…destroyed a machine or two.”
Even now, he could see the artificial vortex beginning to abate. It was more gradual than he’d thought, but it was still a victory, and he knew for a fact that the ship itself was dead in the water for the time being.
“Oh, great job! You sure got a lot done in fifteen minutes. I found a way into the bow where I think they haul in wrecks straight into the ship itself, but this place is so big that I’m probably going to be here a while.”
The idea of the inspector trapped below deck when the frog sounded the alarm sent a spear of worry straight through his chest. “What about Raleigh knowing we’re here? Are you sure that’s safe?”
“Please, Ringtail, give me some credit.” Her voice was nothing but teasing. “If I can handle mob bosses and voodoo priestesses all by myself, I can handle however many lowlifes who are scavenging stolen parts. As long as you keep yourself safe and out of sight, which I know you can, I think we’ll be okay.”
She sounded so sure of it all; their new plan and their safety and his capabilities. The underlying stress was still present, he could hear it no matter how much she was probably trying not to let it seep through, but just the fact that she could stay so level-headed made him both envious and awed.
She was so much better than him, he was beginning to realize. So much better in so many ways. Maybe she had been right to try to refuse his help back in Mesa.
“Cào, I’m sorry,” he mumbled, not noticing the lapse as he was too busy wrestling with sudden, crippling inferiority. “I told you I’d be fine and then I screwed things up for you.”
“It’s…it’s fine, Sly. Mistakes happen and we plan accordingly.” There was a significant pause. “I have a question, though – what was that language you were speaking earlier?”
“What? What did I say?”
“When you were saying we had to leave, you said something I didn’t understand, and also right before you apologized just now – it sounded like…ta-ow?”
The butchering of the pronunciation made him wince before he even registered that he had just slipped into another language in front of her, and that she had caught it. Of course, she had; she caught everything.
“Oh, you heard that, huh?” He began walking, now filled with nervous energy on top of the inadequacy and desperately needing an outlet. “That was Mandarin. You probably shouldn’t repeat that last word out loud. It’s, uh, not very nice.”
“Is that the source of your accent?”
Sly’s eyebrows jumped up and he stopped in his tracks. “I have an accent?”
“You do. It’s very faint, but I noticed it the first time we met. I couldn’t place it.”
“…Huh.”
“You didn’t know?”
No, he very much did not. Another aspect of his identity, stripped away against his will by the monsters who had raised him. The raccoon’s stressed walking turned into an angry trot as he stopped pacing aimlessly and instead headed for a part of the ship that he knew for a fact had something he wanted.
“It’s not my first language,” he said curtly as he moved. The haze of bitterness kept him talking, too heated to stop himself from blurting out the words. “I lived in Kunlun as a kid for a while. Picked up enough to get by.”
Immediately he regretted it – if she was even half the detective he knew her to be, she’d start connecting dots as soon as they went looking for the Panda King. Maybe if he was lucky enough, he could convince her it was just a coincidence. Kunlun was a big area, after all. It was merely chance he had been in the same place that a crime lord had set up shop.
That had worked in Mesa City, hadn’t it?
“Anyway, sorry to give you a heart attack. I promise I’ll be more careful until your officer friends show up. Are we still meeting up again soon if nothing else changes?”
“Wh – yeah, we can do that.” His abrupt change in topic had clearly thrown her for a loop, but the fox recovered quickly like he knew she would. “Just look out for yourself, okay, Ringtail?”
“I will.”
Sly ended the call before he said anything else incriminating, and crammed his phone back in his pocket. His cane he gripped tightly in his right hand as he laid eyes on a particular set of doors belonging to a particular building on the left side of the deck.
They were on a real time crunch, now, and Raleigh probably already knew he was here. The time for subtlety was gone. If any of those incoming cops questioned him about the mess he was probably going to make, he was simply going to tell them that there had been a struggle, he had panicked, and he had feared for his life.
Carmelita would vouch for him. He was almost completely sure of that, now.
Raleigh’s “treasure chamber”, as he liked to call it, was a long ornate hallway that led to a large room filled with water. The walls were filled floor to ceiling with shelves full of stolen goods and decadent prizes. It was the frog’s tailored art gallery of ego while he immersed himself in his personal swimming pool. Sly had been in that room exactly once in his life, the very first time he had stepped foot on the ship – forced to get a good look at each and every item on display as Raleigh bragged about his vast collection and taunted the young kit with something he could never hope to achieve.
It had been both a dare and a threat that day. Daring him to prove his worth as a Cooper by stealing even a single item in that room, and threatening him with a fate worse than death if he so much as tried. Sly, barely thirteen and terrified out of his wits, had not been willing to risk his life to protect his self-worth, and the memory of the frog sneering down at him had stuck so strongly in his mind that he hadn’t ever worked up the courage to attempt it in all the years since.
There had been one other thing about the treasure chamber that had stayed with him, though, and that was the sight of a heavy iron safe on a raised platform in the very center of the pool. The raccoon had no doubt that safe was where Raleigh’s stolen pages of the Thievius Raccoonus were being held.
He pushed through the doors into the fancy hallway and almost immediately was forced to freeze, vanishing from sight just in time for a spotlight to illuminate the exact spot where he was standing. It swung away a few moments later, giving him just enough space to take a better breath and inch forward until it returned, and then he was still again. The thing seemed to be automated, sweeping back and forth down the length of the hall with no room for even the smallest of rats to skirt around the edge of its light.
Sly didn’t know whether being seen by the thing would trigger an alarm or shoot him down, but he wasn’t eager to find out. He moved cautiously, not daring to take any risks, and slowly worked his way down the hall that suddenly felt a lot longer than it looked. Just as he remembered, the walls were covered in shiny baubles and lavish wealth, but none of them caught his attention. None of them were worth anything to someone who was after something truly irreplaceable.
At the other end of the hallway, the room opened up into the swimming pool. It was untouched and seemingly unguarded, but the raccoon knew better than to underestimate the chief machinist of the Fiendish Five. He took the deepest breath he could manage and readied his reflexes as he crossed the threshold, and his foresight paid off when his movement triggered an entire wall of yellow lasers that barreled down on him too fast to blink.
The raccoon turned invisible just a hairs-breadth faster, unable to even wonder if it would work on lasers, and watched wide-eyed as it passed over him just as harmlessly as the spotlight had. He would have breathed a sigh of relief if it didn’t put his life in danger and stealthily continued without letting himself appear visible again. It was only when he reached the edge of the pool that he exhaled, and only because no other security measures had been triggered. He eyed the deep water, then looked past it to the safe that was still where he’d last remembered it, sitting innocently quite a ways away from where Sly was standing.
What the raccoon hadn’t remembered – and what he was very grateful for now – were the lily pads. A dozen or so large, round, green cushions floated on top of the water, looking a lot more stable than they had any right to. After a moment of hesitance, knowing there would be no one nearby to save him this time if he fell into the water again, he made a running leap onto the closest pad. It bounced a little under his weight but otherwise was unbothered, and Sly wasted no time aiming for the next one.
Hopping from lily pad to lily pad was not something he had pictured himself doing in his mission to put the book back together, but it was a far easier task to focus on than the security lasers, and he didn’t dare complain even in his head, afraid to jinx it. The only thing that would have made it even more interesting was if Carmelita was jumping alongside him. No doubt, she would have gotten a kick out of the unusual situation at the exact same time she would’ve taken it extremely seriously. It was one of her odd little contradictions that he found himself liking a lot.
As soon as he made it to the center platform, Sly got on one knee next to the safe and pressed his ear against the door, repeating the technique he had used in Muggshot’s office. Every subtle difference in sound seemed to echo through the cavernous room, which made his job feel easier at the same time it made him paranoid. None of Raleigh’s goons were allowed in here, but that didn’t mean their boss might not decide on an impromptu visit to ensure his treasure was safe when he learned Sly was causing problems.
The frog didn’t show up, thank god, and the raccoon heard the last number fall under his careful hand. His heart swelled with triumph as he opened the safe and began rummaging through it. There was an entire pile of centuries-old gold coins that were probably each worth a fortune, and a series of blueprints of the ship and the storm machine, but when Sly sifted beyond all that, he was shocked to find nothing else. Not a single page of the Thievius Raccoonus had been stashed here.
He had come all the way here only to turn up empty-handed.
Stress began creeping back up his spine, threatening to seep into his skull and into his mind, but he gritted his teeth and smothered it down with sheer willpower and Carmelita’s helpful breathing technique. The worst thing right now was for him to panic again. It wouldn’t help him, it wouldn’t help his partner, and it most certainly wouldn’t find what he was looking for.
With a growl that was teetering dangerously close to a whine, Sly closed the safe door and spun the dial a few times to reset it, then tapped the end of his cane against the concrete floor as he wracked his brain for any idea of where the missing pages might be. There were only so many places on a ship like this that were safe enough to keep such old, delicate artifacts, and although Raleigh was an arrogant windbag, he was not the kind of person to lose something priceless through a careless mistake.
But the only other place as feasibly secure enough as this room wasn’t technically part of the ship. It was floating several meters above the ship, and it never came down for anything. Anything, of course, except for a high-and-mighty frog deciding to grace his crew with his temporary presence before returning to his reclusive lair for weeks at a time.
Sly dissected the dilemma for a solid minute, trying and failing to think of a way to reach the storm machine while it was still in the air. Short of shooting himself out of one of the cannons along the outside railing – which he might have been tempted to do if it wasn’t going to draw the wrong kind of attention from his partner – there was really only one solution.
They’d have to bring the blimp down somehow.
His phone was already coming out of his pocket as he began his trek back towards the deck.
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A/N: It's honestly a miracle I got this chapter out on time. I was busy all week and I only had a simple outline for the entire chapter; pretty much wrote the whole thing from scratch today and yesterday. Hoo. Combine that with SlyFox week and I'm amazed I have any creative juices left in me.
But oh boy, not even ten minutes on the ship and things are already starting to go to shit! I hope Sly's reaction didn't feel too jarring - this is the first time he's fallen apart like this (at least while he was with Carmelita...) but I'd say he has very good reason for it. Luckily he can rely on her to be his rock, and he still won't let his stress get in the way of his goal.
Next week, we'll get to see our favorite Inspector's side of things! Thanks for reading!
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Any tips for aluminum tig?
I have several!
The biggest and first is make sure you have a good TIG welder. I've been forced to use cheap, shitty ones and they just have the WORST arc flow for the AC setting. Just God awful. But, even if you have to make do with a shitty one, there are things you can do to help make it better.
Next I recommend using pure argon if you can for your shielding gas. 75% argon/25%co2 is fine, but if you're having a hard time, especially on thinner pieces (like blow through) I would also recommend turning your gas pressure DOWN. On thin stuff I would go as low as 12-15psi.
Now also for your torch, most employers will get the cheaper green pure tungsten rods, but I massively prefer the gold tipped 1.5% Lanthanated rods. It might depend on how you go about your arc, but I prefer the gold over the green. But you may have different results. My go to is usually 3/32nd width but I have personally had trouble with sizes above or below that.
Now, my instructor taught me to use the "truck stop" method for sharpening my tungsten. I sharpen it to a point holding it parallel with the grinder wheel, I then blunt off the tip about a 1/4 of the way up the angle I've done. I do a longer sharpening, so my blunt ends up about 1/4 of the starting thickness of my tungsten. I prefer blunting it because it makes the ball that forms at the end smaller in size, which is good for me.
Now for material, make sure you're using the type of aluminum that likes to be welded. There are some strains of Aluminum that are good for machining that makes them a mess to weld.
but probably greatest tip I can give is CLEAN YOUR ALUMINUM. get that oxidation off the surface and start with a nice, impurity free surface to get the arc scrubbing started off with. The longer you don't have to pour ambient heat into the piece while the AC scrubbing is ongoing the less of chance of blowout you have.
Now, if you're using filler rod, this is where I recommend bigger being better. Don't be afraid to throw rods in that puddle. I never used anything smaller then 1/8th because it seems like the metal will just disappear in that puddle.
And I think last but not least, if you have access to one, try getting handy on a aluminum mig spool gun. They really go a long way in helping teach you have aluminum behaves when you weld it. It's a lot more forgivable if you already know basic mig, and can even be a great way to help ease yourself into actual GMAW welding too.
I hope this helps anon, I have no clue how long ago you sent this but I hope you see it!
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In an ideal world, we'd be able to tell you definitively which type of welding is the best. Then all you'd have to do is buy one type of welding machine and learn one method of welding, and you'd be done. Of course, this is unrealistic, because the truth is usually a grey area rather than a black-and-white situation.
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Home: a raw, unedited, straight-from-my-heart poem.
Written in one take, because I'm homesick.
Home is not the place you live.
At least not for me.
Home is not the house I own,
Nor is it the street I reside on.
Home is ten miles outside city limits,
Home is so close, yet so far away.
Home is the cold hardwood floor on a Saturday morning,
'Cause mama likes to keep the windows open on summer nights.
Home is the dark blue, almost pitch-black predawn sky
While I sit and wait with my thermos full of apple cider.
Home is the smell of burning metal,
The sickly sweet of melting lead and the crackle of AC current on stainless steel.
Papa always was a tinkerer.
I remember being so afraid of the welder, the sparks and the noise.
But oh how I love the smell of burning steel.
Home is the thunderstorm ripping out tree roots like teeth,
While we sit on the porch and watch the lightning.
God, how I fucking hated thunderstorms.
The power never stayed on for more than five goddamn minutes
As soon as the wind began to rip and tear.
I hated those storms, and I want nothing more than to sit outside,
On the porch, and watch one again.
Home is the tv that was always on mute,
'Cause my great-grandpa didn't bother to turn it off.
Home is cheap cookies and coca-cola, cause my great-grandma loved sweets.
Games of Euchre, always plow the big field first;
Now they're both buried in the churchyard.
Home was hearing Taps when they returned him to the earth.
Home is the sound of gravel under tire,
You can drift in gravel, but be wary of mud.
That loop, from the house to the bridge and back around the high road,
Was exactly a half-mile long.
That half mile was traveled many times as I talked to myself.
Home is the cabin back in the woods,
Games of poker on Tuesday night and fires on Friday.
Halloween down in the barn lot and Christmas in uncle's garage.
Home is bean soup in a cast iron pot,
Home is cornbread and grandma's seven-layer jello.
Home is the trees that whispered in the wind,
The trees that we knew like the back of our hand.
Grandpa dropped us off miles away from the holler,
Told us we could find our way, 'cause this land was in our blood.
And we did.
We made out way across those fields,
Through the cedars and into the meadows,
Until we came back home.
Home is not the place you live.
At least not for me.
Home is a frigid December morning in a treestand,
Home is staying up 'till 3 A.M. playing xbox in grandpa's basement.
Home is a black-diamond Winchester,
Home is finding treasure in the granary.
Home is firelight and fireflies on a Friday night,
Home is seeing the leaves burn with autumn red.
Home is a silver fishing lure,
Home is a baseball cap full of morel mushrooms.
Home is not the house I own,
Nor is it the street I reside on.
Home is ten miles outside of city limits.
Home is so close,
Yet so far away.
#mine#poetry#poem#spilled ink#oc poetry#rural decay#rural gothic#rural america#american gothic#creative writing#homesick
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Learn Self-Sufficiency Skills Blacksmithing and Welding:
Blacksmithing and welding are just two of many different types of metalworking that people do today. They're quite different professions, but have very much in common. As a matter of fact ancient blacksmiths were pioneers of modern welding.
In the old days, the blacksmith was like our "engineer" of his time. He needed to make precise tools for his community from the farmer to the hunter and trapper to the doctor and others. Some of the basic tools of the trade are: Forge, Coal, Anvil, several kinds/sizes of Tongs, several kinds/sizes of Hammers and Protective Clothing. The ability to manipulate metals has always been the mainstay to survivability. Learning this skill will help yourself to make tools you need as well as becoming a bartering skill for off-grid trading.
Knowing how to forge weld is an essential technique and an invaluable skill for a blacksmith. It came from the necessity to integrate little pieces of metal to form a larger piece of metal.
In an emergency off road situation or when there is no AC power, knowing how to weld with batteries can be a very useful skill using 12v batteries as Spot (or Arc) Welder with Jumper Cables and Carbon Rods
[Video] [Article & Video]
Reference Links:
Learn to Weld with a 12v Battery, Jumper Cables and Carbon Rod
Learn Blacksmithing
[14-Point Emergency Preps Checklist]
[11-Cs Basic Emergency Kit]
[Learn to be More Self-Sufficient]
[The Ultimate Preparation]
[5six7 Menu]
#welding#blacksmithing#prepper#survival#shtf#diy#prepping#skills2know#prepare4tomorrow#redneckWelder#5six7
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greetings humans. here's the trainer card of myself and the team here, however i myself couldn't be shown with my real look. nonetheless i hope i have a nice time here in this Arceus forsaken place.
The team's info:
Keystone the lokix: he/him rash nature, wears a navy and silver scarf, is very aggressive for the most part
Judi the Pheromosa: Adamant nature, wears a wide brimmed, black sun hat with a gold strip, curious to the world around her
Magic the misdreauvs: quirky nature, is what seems to an alpha due to their size, is a troublemaker, and is the leader of all the misdreavus in this beach house
MAH DUDE the geodude: bold nature, has outlived their old trainer, was traded from a different region, gets along almost everyone in the team seems to have a different coloring compared to even shinies
Grave O'Neil the spiritomb: ??? Nature, was found in my house and forced my hand to catch them, is also a trouble maker like magic, has a strange liking to coffee grounds (they eat them somehow when no one is looking)
Pot lid the Klinklang : recently transferred from a kalosian shelter thanks to an event, evolved during the naming of Tafiū, really likes jazz
<<Dredge the dhelmise>>: quiet nature, is barely heard in general, clings on to me the most, was found in a double shipwreck.
Tafiū the Delta bisharp: jolly nature, had just evolved during the naming of them, is a Delta Pokemon from the Torren region, was given to me by pri- I mean Roya
and heres my apperance:
Roya's info wip
"hey water bucket ill take it from here!"
i told you not to call me that you pri-
"yea yea whatever, anyways name Roya, hailed from the torren region and a ex-member of rainbow rocket (mind ya i fucking hated being in it from start to finish. especially since the boss there was responsible to everything that ruined my past life before i even joined the team out of no choice) and now im here hanging with the water bucket here! anywho heres my crew!:
Reacta the delta vespiquen: Delta and starter over at the Torren region, has a mild nature, wears a orange tuxedo vest,
Spines the cacturne: relaxed nature, found somewhere in desert area i cannot remember where, wears a poncho, likes to eat and hog sour berries
Dagger the sharpedo: found in torren, hasty nature, likes to be blunt on what he does,
Petrol the skrelp: hatched in a egg, bashful natured, im trying my best to care for this lil guy till hes ready to go battle if he desires to
Alia II the shiny beedrill: ace and partner pokemon, is a shiny, adamant nature, wears a cap like mine own but green and black, is the 2nd beedrill i own, likes to be with Reacta and petrol (will protect with her life)
a weavile that joined my team without consent: somehow snuck their way in while i was in the wild area of galar, impish natured bastard, likes to scheme behind others, hates ribbons for some odd reason
Scamp the scraggy: Found and joined my team after interfering in a trainer battle and getting healed up, brave nature, tends to put themselves into danger on their own damn time, headbutts people to say they like them
"oh and ill show ya what i look like when i get the chance to show that off"
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//additonal info here:
Main Pokemon IRL BLOG list of other blogs I own as of now:
@flowroma-town-apiary
@snowbell-glass-bar
@veil05thegrasselementbot
@slateport-welders-union
@amperage-speedway
@miss-fairylight-magician
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probably time for a pinned about post that can be seen on mobile :')
Emordnilap #197534 || hatchery || sales tab || gen1 sales tab || art dragon sales
emord/vinnie || he/it || 23 || transhet ace guy :]
i have a hatchery, and will breed dragons on request and hold hatchlings for up to a week; i do not have a pinglist. all dragons are first come, first served when posted. i always post on tumblr and list on the AH at the same time!
i tag for the following:
genes, as "[x] gene": jaguar/rosette, orb/weaver, tapir, hypnotic, jewels, polkadot, chess/checkers, octopus/rings, tentacles, featherbeard, space, and mandibles
eye types, as "[eye type]": multigaze, shadow primal, plague primal
apparel: chitinous armor
other squicks: blood, death, body horror, eyestrain, flashing
other general: emord rambles, not fr, my art, my lore, art by others, lore by others
a bit more below the cut!
my main things are reblogging art, fr memes, general fr posts, and constantly talking lmao. sometimes i post short writings or rambly lore ideas, and i draw! not as much as i used to, but i do draw and like to post em. :]
other fun things: i'm now a welder! graduated with a TD may 18, 2023. :3 sometimes (often) i talk about it. currently in manufacturing food processing machinery!
aside from fr, my main media interests are mp100, halo, and fossil fighters, and i'm always down to yell about them!
i love interaction even if i can be very slow about it, always down to chat and yell about stuff!
one of these days i'll have a DNI but atm i just look at blogs and pull a lever under your feet if i don't like it
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