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[paulxcranetruck]

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[sultrycomets]

After a long day at the nearby lake, Wyatt Morgan returns to base with the ‘bots to cool down.

A gift fic for @botmilf, featuring her OC and two lover-bots!

Beating the Heat

Warnings: 18+ ONLY!

Word Count: 2,107

Art Credit: @/botmilf

Deep within the walls of the missile silo, Wyatt flopped the front of her body onto the nearest bundle of pillows inside the Autobots’ shared bedroom. She sighed, her tongue tasting the sweetness of the pink popsicle in her mouth. Fans blew all around her, keeping her functional and cool. She opened her mouth, groaning and closing her eyes shut. 

“Sonnn of a bitch.”

It was hot. Outside, the temperature was blazing, and she only just now returned from a trip with Optimus and Ratchet from the nearby lake. There, Ratchet waded in the water as much as he could, but he still required plenty of rest before he overheated, so they were forced to head back home within hours. 

Although Omega-1 was heavily air-conditioned, Wyatt stripped herself down within minutes of entering her silo, sipping on her water bottles. Now, she was just wearing a small camisole and a pair of black panties. She didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing her besides the ‘bots. This was her home, their shared home. 

Speaking of the ‘bots, only her, Ratchet, Optimus, and little baby Bumblebee lingered inside the missile silo for the time being. The others were out on patrol. In a way, this was her private time, she supposed.

Wyatt sucked on her popsicle, taking in the fruity scent through her nostrils and encouraging the cool juice to trickle down her throat. Before long, a sound from the doorway caused her eyes to blink open. Ratchet arrived, his frame mass-displaced as he carried a couple of cold rags in each servo. The woman slightly lifted herself from the pillows, noticing his hard focus on her.

“Hey, babe. Watcha doing?” She winked. “Starin’ at the popsicle in my mouth?”

Ratchet’s faceplate was tinted with a faint blue.

“Well, it’s…favorable to a cigarette.”

Wyatt chuckled and finished her treat before standing and chucking the stick into the nearest garbage bin. She grinned, running her fingers through her black hair. The medic bot looked her over, beckoning her forward with a wave of his servo.

“Alright. Now, come here.”

She did, granting him access to her body by repositioning herself onto the pillows. Slowly, he applied the cooling compresses to her neck and forehead. She arched her back, moving along with him, accommodating his touch. His affectionate actions coupled by the wet rags on her skin was nothing short of divine to her.

For a moment, however, she thought of Bumblebee. She lifted a brow, shuffling a little. 

“Baby taking a nap?”

“Yes, and it’s about time, too,” Ratchet said, “I was beginning to think otherwise. We’re not the only ones who are negatively affected by the temperatures of your planet.”

Wyatt nodded, understanding. She hugged the nearest pillow close beneath her chest. 

“Poor thing. He’s crabby.” 

“Indeed.”

The woman hummed, enjoying the way the cold rags felt on her sweaty body, the water seeping into her dark skin. She craned her neck and stretched, enjoying the moment to the fullest. She spread her legs once he reached her panties, dabbing the rags to her inner thighs. It took all her strength to not squeeze her legs around his servo right then and there. He was incredibly thorough, leaving no stone unturned. 

“Mmm,” she moaned above the sound of the blowing fans, “that feels nice, sweetie.”

Behind her, Ratchet laughed a little.

“As I intended. I’m relieved, Wyatt.”

And so was she, her fingers sinking into the pillows beneath her. He pressed the rags to her lower back, and the woman released a long and shuddering sigh that rippled across her entire body. 

“Hm.” He observed her little movements and noises. “You seem to be enjoying yourself.”

His tone, though firm, was slightly teasing. She turned, catching a glimpse of the Cybertronian’s smile. 

“You have no idea, Ratchet.”

Eventually, she grew to be so relaxed that she removed her top with ease, giving Ratchet permission to touch her body even further. She sighed into his digits, gasping as the cooling compress hit her nipples and bare shoulders. Within the breath of a whisper, she repeated Ratchet’s name. Her heart thrummed with bliss as she heard his gentle voice utter her own in return, his ministrations as loving as he was at his core.

In time, there was then the sound of a familiar pair of slow and heavy pedesteps. Optimus Prime entered from the doorway, mass-displaced and his shoulder pads gone. Once his gaze settled on the pair, he smiled. Wyatt waved at him.

“Hey, big guy. Come here.” She glanced at the medic. “Both of you. It’s cuddle time.”

As the three shifted into position, Ratchet scoffed a bit. 

“That would exchange more heat between our bodies.”

Wyatt rolled over, welcoming the pair into her pile of adoration. It didn’t take the three long to grow comfortable together. By now, the mechs were on either side of her, their bodies against the pillows and against each other. Smirking, she rubbed Ratchet’s finials in order to soothe him.

“We’ll live.”

Optimus snuggled her, venting his helm into her lower back. The tone in his voice was as tender as ever. 

“I am inclined to agree with her, Ratchet.” …

Minutes passed since the trio started cuddling, and Wyatt couldn’t ask for anything more. Within those minutes, snuggling, however, led into something a bit more intimate. In such a short amount of time, the woman’s relaxation shifted into arousal. And, judging by the looks on her mechs, they shared the same feeling. 

Optimus’s engine purred with a low and endearing rumble as he pressed his helm into Wyatt’s breasts. She smiled, rubbing his crest as he fondled her thighs like they were a stress toy. He was gentle but diligent in his touches, his digits resting into the plumpness of her squish. 

Likewise, on the other end, Ratchet groped the softness of her ass. Deciding to acknowledge this, Wyatt turned and hooked her fingers beneath her panties, stripping herself until she was completely bare. As she tossed her underwear to the side, the Autobot medic already vented with desire alongside her.

“Is now…really the time to be doing this?”

Wyatt shrugged at him, tracing his finials.

“I dunno. You tell me.”

With her side flat against the pillows, she leaned forward and cupped his metallic cheeks. And then, she kissed him directly on the dermas. As her eyes closed, Ratchet deepened the kiss by holding a servo to the back of her head to keep her in place. Wyatt moaned, her tongue running playfully against his bottom derma. A guttural sound emitted from Ratchet as he kissed her more, causing the woman to sink further into his embrace. With the steady beat of her heart, she stroked the sides of his faceplate and felt all that she could of his heat with her lips and her tongue. Similarly, Ratchet’s own glossa tasted the entrance to her mouth with slow, deliberate motions.

When she broke apart for air, she turned to Optimus, scanning the hint of longing in his glossy, blue optics. 

“Wyatt…”

She smiled at the soft tone of his voice, feeling the familiar wetness between her naked legs. After learning forward, she kissed him as well, tender but passionate. Wyatt lifted her palm to his warm cheek and melted into the smooch. It was true. Ratchet was the better kisser. However, Optimus possessed the spark. He returned her affections, moving his dermas against her own lips until her teeth nibbled a little at his mouthpiece. 

“Ah!”

Wyatt produced another moan. Behind her, Ratchet lifted her hair out of the way to gain easier access to the tattoo on her neck. He kissed her there, sweet and long. The sudden warmth on such a sensitive spot prompted her body to shiver with delight. 

Slowly, Ratchet’s servos trailed down her body, from her hips to the curve of her ass. When he reached her pussy, he carefully touched her folds, testing her.

“Mm. You’re lubricated but far from ready.”

Beside her, Optimus moaned lightly into Wyatt’s ear. 

“Then what do you propose, old friend?”

Through half-lidded eyes, Wyatt watched and felt as Ratchet lifted himself to touch his partner. Together, they smiled at one another before bumping their helms, sharing their own chaste kisses. 

“I propose…that we attend to her as best as we can.”

A faint layer of warmth formed across Wyatt’s cheeks. By the time Optimus and Ratchet retracted themselves from each other, Ratchet’s digit already teased Wyatt’s cunt, stroking along her slit and rubbing circles into the tiny nub of her clit. 

Wyatt fell back onto the pillows, using her fingers to rub and pinch at her nipples. She squeezed at the hardened buds, biting her lower lip as her toes curled. She moaned out the names of her partners with such bliss and adoration. 

“Nng…fuck!”

Gingerly, Optimus leaned towards her, stopping before her breasts. He glanced at her nipples before looking at her with gentle optics.

“May I?”

Wyatt smiled at him.

“Go ahead, love.”

The Prime nodded. As she lowered her hands to her sides, he reached out with his dermas, beginning to suck on her chest. His mouthpiece fit around one nipple while he used his free servo to fondle her other breast. She squirmed as she felt his dermas lightly tease her areola, treating her skin with utmost care and sensitivity. Every squish he made with his servo was careful, just as every suck with his dermas was gentle. The very moment he pulled away to switch to the other tit, he moaned onto her nipple. The very sound caused her abdomen to throb.

Ratchet locked eyes with Wyatt. Carefully, he lowered himself between her legs, resting his helm between her inner thighs. He stroked them, petting them with such grace and love before asking for her permission to stick out his glossa.

“Is this…alright?”

Wyatt nodded.

Ratchet wasted no time, using his glossa to tease her folds and slick slit. He wrapped his digits around her thighs, pulling her closer. Eagerly, Wyatt bucked her hips a little, prompting him to chuckle. 

“Fuck,” Wyatt sighed. “I love how you eat me out.”

The medic’s internal mechanics whirred with heat and pleasure.

“Is that so?” He smirked between her thighs. “In that case, just relax and let good ol’ doc bot take care of you.”

She did. With attention on both her tits and her pussy, she felt as though she could orgasm on the spot. And yet, she attempted to hold herself back as much as she could, wanting to enjoy their moment as much as possible. Optimus’s glossa flicked over her nipple while Ratchet’s dermas sucked on her clit. The combined stimulation was almost overwhelming, but certainly not uncomfortable. She arched her back, moaning as the two mechs provided her with their devotion and affections. 

Wyatt was close. She could feel it. Her heart rate skyrocketed, and her cunt pulsed and twitched with every stroke her medic delivered. With a verbal promise of her love for the two, she no longer held herself back. Her pussy clenched and contracted. She orgasmed hard on Ratchet’s glossa, and he lapped it up as much as he could. Her legs turned numb, and her eyes flickered. She grasped onto the mech’s helm, drawing Ratchet closer towards her. Likewise, using her arms, she hugged Optimus, wanting him near her. It took almost a full minute for Wyatt to recover. Together, they worked her through her orgasm until she finally relaxed one more. 

“Holy shit.”

She panted, her chest rising and falling swiftly into Optimus’s mouthpiece and servos. A moment of silence ensued as the three exchanged sweet looks with one another. All was blissful, and all was calm.

Well, at least until the baby started to cry from the next room over. Wyatt chuckled, not truly surprised.

“Fuck.”

Ratchet groaned, pulling himself away from her crotch. Similarly, Optimus removed himself from her breasts with a little smile on his faceplate, one that encouraged Wyatt to grin right back at him. 

Leaning forward, Ratchet pressed a kiss to her teardrop tattoo.

“I’ll…go fetch him.”

Before he could make his leave, however, Wyatt stopped him with her hand to his digit.

“Hold on. You know that I love you guys, right?”

Ratchet blinked, processing her words before smiling at her.

“Yes, yes. We know. I love you, too.”

He nodded, his voice soft and kind. When he finally left the bedroom, Optimus cuddled her soon after.

“As do I, Wyatt…with all of my spark.” 

The woman hummed, pressing another kiss to his helm.

Divider Credit: @/inklore

Also on Ao3!

[grumpyeagleandfriends]

À Terre II | Poe Dameron x OC/Reader

A/N: Reader is a Resistance pilot that was captured during a solo reconnaissance mission. They escape by hijacking a ship. Gravely injured and hanging by a thread, they rejoin the Resistance by crash landing just outside of the base on D'Qar. A certain distraught squadron leader runs out to help. 

Hurt/Comfort. Gratuitous, self-serving one shot TWO PART story. I have rewritten the first chapter in addition to adding on a second installment. This time it's in Poe's POV. I don’t like using “y/n” so I give the reader a generic, 1 syllable Star Wars name in the middle of this bad boy.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I’ve been daydreaming about this for months years, so I finally decided to write it all out.  There’s a little bit of a long set up, but I’m not sorry about it.

Rating: T

Warnings: Mentions blood and torture. Shellshock/PTSD vibes. Cursing. Tons of graphic medical stuff. Injections (so needles).

Word count: 5,439

Masterlist

Blood was everywhere when he finally made it inside the cockpit...

Even after he got her free from the safety harness, when all he could do was keep her calm and alert until the med techs arrived, he noticed the way she looked at him, the way she pulled it together to focus every time she nearly fell asleep. Hol hadn’t been able to properly talk, but with every command he gave her, she nodded and tried her best to comply. 

The metallic iron smell of it nearly knocked him back when he opened the canopy. It covered everything. Her shaking hands, her hair, her flight suit, he even found it coating the inside of her mouth after he coaxed her to let him take away the life support mask. 

He desperately wanted to give her water to see if she could drink, but there wasn’t any to be found in the cockpit. He wanted to put her in one of his jackets to help stop her from shaking, but the patch of trees she crashed landed into was too far from his quarters on base. He wanted to scream at her for being so goddamn stubborn, but he couldn’t shake the way she desperately clutched onto his hand. 

They hadn't been careful enough when extracting her. There wasn't enough time to wait for proper immobilization equipment to be brought out to the crash site. Between Hol's blood loss and the ship leaking dangerous fluids into the forest, they made the difficult call to just move. 

Seeing that utmost trust in her eyes, alongside the fear and the pain, was what really scared him the most. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he let her die there, not after she clawed her way back to them.

He had no way of knowing at that moment, but the jostling when they lifted her out caused a broken rib to puncture one of her lungs. Poe couldn’t keep from blaming himself for his own role in that.

The second they placed her onto the hover gurney, her condition began to rapidly deteriorate. One of the med techs caught sight of her blue fingertips and immediately diagnosed a collapsed lung. Poe only just managed to clamber out of the cockpit to see it all. He stood frozen on the wing of the ship while he watched them cut open her flight suit to reveal her bloated chest. The bright glow of a laser scalpel quickly appeared and they made an emergency incision between her ribs to let the trapped air escape.

Once they got her breathing again, she was loaded onto the back of the waiting med truck and they took off. Poe was left to follow behind on the back of a ship technician's speeder bike.

--------------------------------------

He sprinted into the medbay only a few moments after Hol was rushed in on the hover gurney. Bypassing the waiting area and going directly through the sliding double doors was unusually easy. In hindsight it should have struck him as odd that no one stopped him, but the overstretched med staff meant that no one paid him any mind when he planted himself against the back wall in triage.

As promised, Kalonia’s team was already primed and waiting to receive her. Poe had to crane his neck to be able to see, but he counted at least seven different med techs helping transfer her over to the exam bed.

They began working like a well calibrated machine, her dirty flight suit was sliced open and quickly stripped away. As soon as they were connected, the more sophisticated diagnostic scanners lit up and began  displaying the worst of her injuries. Images of her chest cavity were produced on a monitor near the end of the exam bed, along with her vitals.

From where he stood, Poe was able to catch Hol’s foot beginning to subtly twitch. He wondered initially if he had just imagined the movement, but the surrounding med staff began to take notice as well.

“Eyes are beginning to flutter, she might be starting to come around.”  

Dr. Kalonia took a step back as her staff continued their work. She pulled aside the young medic who had been down in the cockpit with Poe. He began rattling off the details of Hol’s condition when found and how exactly she was transported. After a couple of minutes he began gesturing over his shoulder in Poe’s direction, causing Kalonia to promptly look up. Her eyes narrowed when she caught sight of him standing back by the door. 

Shit…

His back stiffened in preparation for an argument that never came.

“Dameron, get over here!”

She issued the instruction like an admiral as she pointed him over to the top of the exam bed.

He didn't think, he just immediately crossed over. The moment he was within reach, she grabbed hold of his arm and brought him to stand where she was.

“Do exactly what you did down at the crash site, alright? Talk to your pilot. Keep her calm.”

Hol’s head gently lolled to the side on the padded exam table, her face slack and eyes half-lidded. She went still once more just as he took his place. He cupped her face in his hands, noting how cool and clammy her skin felt against his palms.

Kalonia stood to his right, a penlight ready in her hand to test the reaction of her patient’s pupils.

“C’mon, Tarmin…” She called while carefully tugging open Hol’s eyelid.

Immediately, there was a weak moan, greatly muffled by the respirator mask. Hol tried to roll away from the touch, but Poe’s hands braced either side of her head.

“Hey, hey- it's okay. Easy, kid, easy.” He whispered, holding her in place just long enough for Kalonia to work.

“Settle down, Lieutenant.” The doctor spoke as she pulled away. “You crash landed on D’Qar. You’re in medical.”

Poe didn't let go once she finished. He continued cradling Hol's head, his short nails scratching at her scalp in some attempt at providing comfort.

Her body was fully exposed under the surgical lights, revealing the extent of the damage that he wasn't able to see back in the cockpit. The bruising along her abdomen and rib cage was mostly black, as if there were large ink blots staining her skin. There were blaster grazes on her right side, localized swelling where her right forearm was clearly fractured, wounds in her lower abdomen...

So much of it jumped out at once, he found it hard to focus on any one injury long enough. He began to wonder just what sort of state she was in before the crash.

Hol emitted another faint groan, one where he could distinctly hear a wheezing sound that came from deep in her chest. Her body jerked from the force of a cough. Red flecks of blood appeared inside the clear respirator mask.

Slowly, she began to blink against the lights. A worry line formed in the center of her forehead.

"No...n-no… "

It was hoarse and strained, but everyone standing around caught the audible plea. Hol's good hand suddenly lifted in an attempt to bat away those touching her.

Dr. Kalonia cursed.

"Restrain her! I'm trying to insert a chest catheter here!”

Padded white cuffs were produced and promptly attached around each of her limbs, securing her to the exam bed.

"Hol, look at me." Poe commanded. He cupped her jaw as he leaned directly over her, giving her no choice but to comply. He made himself the only thing she had to look at. His shadow worked to shield her eyes from the glaring overhead lights while also blocking her view of the med staff.

Her gaze was glassy and unfocused, but she was thankfully looking at him.

"You've got to relax." He urged, his hand smoothing her tangled hair back off her face as he spoke. "We’re trying to patch you up, alright? Let us help."

She blinked at the sound of his voice, and though the distress on her face didn't fade, she went still on the exam bed. Her eyes remained set in his direction.

"There you go, sunshine..." Poe quietly praised, using once again the affectionate name he knew she absolutely hated. "Keep those eyes on me, don't worry about anything else."

His attention never left her, but he was aware that Kalonia and another med tech were beginning to work at prepping the incision site to insert the chest tube. He wasn't convinced that Hol recognized who he was or even that she was somewhere safe, but he couldn't risk her getting freaked out by the procedure being performed on her chest.

There was still visible fear in her eyes, but she never looked away from him. Her struggling thankfully ceased as she began to lean into one of his palms bracing the side of her face.

"You're safe, you know that?" He found himself reminding her. The pads of his thumbs traced over the outer shells of her ears, trying again to ease the visible discomfort he saw etched in her face. "Promise you, babe. You're good, we've got you."

Hol winced before swallowing. His brow furrowed as he watched her lips suddenly part.

“Poe…"

Her voice was painfully raw, and normally the sound of her saying his name would have been reason for relief, but he only worried that she was wasting her energy trying to talk.

“Yeah, hey, Hol.” He greeted in a whisper, dipping just enough to brush his lips to her hairline. "It's me. I'm right here."

He frowned when she tried to say something more, something longer and impossible to parse.

"Shh-hey, no, that's enough. Don't want you to talk anymore." He gently scolded. "We’re going to do like before, okay? You relax while I run my mouth.”

Poe doubted she remembered their conversation down in the cockpit, but she thankfully fell silent. Her eyes remained on him as he kept quietly talking to her, blabbering on about how lucky she was to get out of briefings and inventory duty for the next few weeks, about how she was going to sit back on the medbay's best painkillers and watch the trashiest holovids he could find.

He knew deep down that she probably wasn't following him entirely, but he was trying to reassure himself at this point more than her. He was keenly aware that none of what he was saying was guaranteed, but he had to give himself something to hold on to, because imagining anything else simply was not an option for him. 

She had to pull through this.

She had to be fine.

Minutes passed like that, Hol's unfocused gaze trained on Poe's face as he worked at keeping her distracted. Kalonia was able to successfully insert the temporary catheter into Hol's chest, which would assure the function of her uninjured lung until they could patch up the other.

Poe listened closely as a medtech outlined all of the crucial information, providing him with the rough plan of how her treatment would proceed. Once they finished stabilizing her most grave injuries, she would be taken back for surgery. There would be some additional testing after, which would take a couple of hours...

The explanation suddenly stopped short when an alarm began to sound from one of the machines. The level of the urgency in the room immediately started to bubble over.

"Heart rate is increasing!" Someone announced.

Poe visibly paled as he watched Hol's eyes roll backward. His hands still bracing her head, he desperately looked up at the med staff, searching for some kind of instruction.

"Dameron, out!"

Kalonia swooped in and firmly shouldered him out of the way.

Before he could object, a med droid approached and began to usher him towards the door.

"Doc, what's going on?" He demanded, sidestepping the mechanical arms reaching for his shirt. "What's wrong?"

His question went ignored. Hold was entirely obscured from his view. There were too many people now surrounding the exam bed.

"She's seizing! Start anticonvulsants and prepare for a transfusion!"

"Master Dameron, the team needs to prepare the patient for surgery. You must leave."

The med droid's pincers whirred as it closed in on Poe.

"Don't tell me what I have to do!" He snapped, the outline of his jaw more pronounced as he spoke through clenched teeth.

In a moment of sheer stupidity, he pushed back hard against the unforgivingly solid metal chest. He clearly forgot that these droids were built to easily lift the deadweight of critically ill patients of any species.

The mechanical arms tightly wrapped around him, securing his own arms to his sides. They closed, crushing him flush against the droid's metal body. The gesture was completed so quickly that he could feel the air being forced out of his own chest.

Poe feebly kicked, but it was useless. The droid easily hauled him back out through the double doors and towards the waiting area.

________________________

The word about who crash-landed into the trees traveled like wildfire across base. All of black squadron, Finn, BB-8, several of the x-wing techs and pilots from various outfits formed a large group just outside of the medbay. Each of them had duties elsewhere that they were purposefully ignoring, choosing out of loyalty to be present while one of their own hung in some grave state between life and death. They were the ones who threw back countless drinks in the mess hall together, who organized a massive fantasy Gravball league that nearly sent the entire Resistance into chaos, and who pooled their commissary credits to throw each other birthday parties.

They were all present to witness the painful moment Poe was forcibly escorted out of the sliding double doors leading to triage.

"Shit!-alright, alright! Let go!" His shouts ricocheted down the hallway as he finally managed to yank himself free. The force of the motion caused him to promptly fall to the floor.

The others watched as he quickly scrambled up from the ground, stumbling and hurrying to kick at the back of the retreating med droid.

He missed, which only served to enrage him further. The doors promptly closed behind the droid and Poe spun around— his mouth set in a tight line while he began to inexplicably search his surroundings. His chest rose and fell for several beats. His face twisted into a sneer before he abruptly lashed out at the nearest object, sending a trashcan flying with his boot. The steel barrel was thankfully empty, but the sharp clang sent a shockwave across the medbay.

The few people waiting in the sitting area immediately stood up to vacate the space.

Finn was the first to take a step forward to intervene, but he was halted by a large hand on his arm. He turned his head to see Snap, skin still humid as if he came straight from the refresher.

"Best to stand back and let it pass." The pilot urged with a sad shake of his head. "His scenes are never pretty."

Finn didn't want to agree, but as he stood and watched the scene unfolding before them he couldn't find any reason to argue. Snap and the others would know better. They did know. 

Poe’s hands were pressed to the back of his head, his fingers laced together as he glared at the closed doors. He could have easily pushed his way back through, but he inexplicably remained where he stood. His eyes shot a deadly amount of spite toward whatever was happening on the other side of those doors— information that, for the time being, only he knew. 

His arms fell heavily to his sides. Ignoring the uneasy looks following him, he turned and traipsed over to the first row of waiting chairs, silently throwing himself down onto one of the seats.His legs stretched out while he leaned back, his arms folded over his chest.

He continued to stare at the doors, a hard glint in his eyes for the faceless goliath wrecking untold damage on the other side.

The others slowly filtered over to join him in the waiting area. A supportive hand would occasionally grip his shoulder or linger on his knee, but no one said anything. Those unvoiced questions sat heavy above their heads.

BB-8 remained near Poe’s feet, unusually still and silent.

Hours grudgingly crawled by. The light outside faded away and began to just barely creep back over the horizon when someone finally came out to speak to them.

Poe was the only one to be escorted back behind the double doors. Dr. Kalonia stood there waiting for him, still dressed in some of her surgical garb. Thankfully, her mask was off, because her facial expression alone was able to answer his most crucial question.

She was alive.

Kalonia began to turn before she motioned for him to come along.

"Follow me, Dameron..."

________________________

They walked together down the main hallway of the medical wing, back to where Poe knew the overnight patient beds were located. He remained silent as Kalonia gave the run through of everything— what exactly happened when he was forced out of triage and what they were able to correct during surgery. Internal bleeding was what caused Hol to begin seizing. They performed a blood transfusion that stabilized her enough to undergo surgery, but they hadn’t been confident that she would make it through. The surgery itself took hours, but they were successfully able to localize and stop the bleeding in her abdomen and patch up her punctured lung. They installed a more substantial drainage tube in her chest to allow excess air and fluids to escape so her lung could continue to heal.

She would need to be kept asleep so her body could focus on repairing itself, but Kalonia was going to let Poe see her while they performed some additional tests.

They came to a stop just before the smallest room along the hallway. Due to space constraints on base, most of the rooms along this corridor housed multiple beds. This room was only for patients in a bad enough state to justify being kept isolated from others.

Kalonia stood aside to let him enter first.

They had Hol lying half-covered on an exam bed, her chest was mostly obscured by bandages. The first thing he noticed was that she was clean now, so much so that it made his head spin. 

It shouldn’t have been such a surprise, because of course they were going to scrub away the blood and grime before putting her on fresh bedding. But still, the contrast from when he found her sitting strapped in that downed ship was startling.

Several machines were attached to her body. She was hooked up to a respirator and receiving fluids intravenously, but Poe also caught sight of the aforementioned drainage tube extending from a patch of bandages in her side. It ran all the way over the edge of the bed into a receptacle on the floor. Her injured arm was wrapped in bacta strips and immobilized with a splint.

He remained a few feet away from her bed, a distance that he decided would be safe, because it felt too dangerous to touch her. His eyes slowly took in every piece of equipment being used to keep her stable, at first he began to count but stopped himself when he reached double digits.

His brow furrowed the moment he noticed the padded white cuffs still attaching Hol's wrists to the bed frame.

"Why is she still strapped down?" He demanded, his voice oddly distorted from hours of not speaking.

"It’s just a precaution for now.” Kalonia began to explain, seeming to choose her words cautiously. “She’s still on anticonvulsants to help reduce the likelihood of further seizures, but even while sedated there are still some tremors. With the location of the drainage tube we can’t risk her moving too violently or ripping it out when she wakes.” 

Poe blinked, taking a moment to process the information. 

"How long does she have to keep the tube?”

“No more than 2 to 3 days.” 

He nodded while he chewed on his lower lip, his eyes still trained on Hol. 

“Look, Dameron…” 

She interrupted his thoughts in a gentle tone that was meant to be comforting, but it only made the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight. Dr. Kalonia was known for ruthlessly running the medbay like a battleship. They went back far too long, he knew to brace for the worst whenever she started to go soft.

Poe turned to face her, the pit of dread he felt low in his stomach was only growing. He would have given anything in that moment for them to fall into their traditional roles, for him to be the one injured and for her to be yelling at him. - Dammit, Dameron! Either make yourself useful or get the hell out of my medbay!

But she only continued to speak in that horribly gentle tone.

“As Tarmin’s commanding officer, there is something else that you should know.”

She walked him around to the opposite side of the bed, where there was noticeably less tubing.

“During the examination before her surgery, I noticed some smaller injuries that made me order full lab work.”

He watched as she lifted the bit of blanket covering Hol’s legs. 

“I found infected injection sites on the insides of her arms and thighs, then these small circular burns on her ankles.”

Immediately Poe began to understand the rationale behind her delicate words.

He'd seen those marks on more than a few Resistance members who managed to escape capture. He sported similar ones himself after being captured on Jakku...after the Finalizer.

“We found traces of antipsychotics, nerve agents, and truth serum in her system.” Kalonia continued to explain. 

He bowed his head as he listened, the sour taste of bile was creeping up in the back of his mouth. He pinched the bridge of his nose while the facts began to register in his mind. His teeth clamped down on the inside of his cheek, he forced himself to slowly exhale.

"There are chafe marks on her body from restraints. The partial break to her humerus looks like it's from prolonged strain during intero—"

He couldn’t let her fully pronounce the word. 

"Alright!”

He didn't have it in him to yell anymore, but the tension in his voice filled the space like a streak of lightning.

To her credit, Kalonia never flinched at the sound. She stood patiently, unwavering, her face neutral as she watched him. An uneasy silence settled over the room.   

He took a shaky breath, being mindful to adjust his tone before continuing.

“It’s okay.” He spoke softly, voice trembling despite his efforts. “I-I got it, Doc.” 

He turned to face away as he desperately tried to calm the tightening in his throat. The corners of his eyes were sharply stinging. The best he could do to regain control was to continue biting down hard on the inside of his mouth, inhaling and exhaling through his nose.

After a couple of minutes he scrubbed both hands over his stubbled face. With the heels of his palms he rubbed at his eyes until he saw stars. Slowly, much too slowly for his liking, he was able to push his own agony down enough to recenter.

Poe turned to face Kalonia once more. He cleared his throat. 

“She's not going to be in too much pain when she wakes up?” He demanded. “You can keep her comfortable, right?”

She pointed his attention to the IV stand by the head of the exam bed.

"I can't promise when she wakes up that she won't be in some pain, but we can adjust the medication through her drip and it'll take effect almost immediately."

He nodded. His hand combed through his hair before he slowly approached the bedside once more.

Poe stood and watched Hol's face for several minutes. He searched hard for any signs of movement or distress but found nothing. Her features were mercifully still and serene for the moment. She was protected under the fog of artificial sleep.

“How long are you going to keep her under?”

The question was spoken in a near whisper. 

“Depends on her vitals, but at least a day, maybe two.”

Kalonia took the time to show him her vitals displayed on the monitor near the head of the bed, providing a brief explanation of what the numbers currently meant. For the moment, everything hovered just barely inside the acceptable range. It was far from ideal, but it was at least temporarily stable. They would have to see over the next few days how she progressed.

While standing there together, they witnessed a ripple of stiff movement pass through Hol’s limbs.

“Whoa…” Poe visibly straightened, alarm written on his face as he began to think the worst.

Kalonia’s hand found his arm.

“Those movements aren’t another seizure.” She assured him. “It’s a residual effect from nerve agent exposure. Think of it like the nerves in her body recalibrating.”

Poe nodded in quiet understanding, but all he could think about was the excuse Kalonia gave him earlier for keeping Hol restrained— how she didn’t want her to hurt herself. There was some logic behind it, he could admit that much. But now that he knew some of what happened to her, he could barely stomach the idea.

They allowed him to stay in Hol’s room overnight. Kalonia had a cot brought in for him to sleep on, but only under the condition that he promised two things: to use the refresher across the hall and to actually get some sleep.

When he was finally alone with her he felt oddly numb. There in the nearly dark ward of the medbay, he stood over Hol’s bed and just watched her. It took several minutes for him to work up the courage to approach, but he did it. His hand briefly rested on the metal railing, as if he was grounding himself before he finally reached to touch her.

His fingers snaked between her own as he slotted his hand over her's. Immediately he realized that her skin felt strangely warm, prompting him to reach up and feel the side of her face. A quick look at her vitals confirmed his suspicions, she had a low-grade fever beginning to form. 

Poe made a note to point it out to one of the medtechs when they would come to make their rounds. He touched her hand once more before he stepped back to take a seat on the unfolded cot.

From there he watched her rest. He felt the heavy pull of exhaustion on his body, but sleep was the last thing he wanted for himself. His mind was all over the place, thinking about too many things at once.

Leia would come to visit her soon. He knew that much. Once she was past the worst and strong enough to speak, they would make her issue a report and do a formal debrief in front of Leia and her counsel.

It would be long and grueling. She would have to relive everything in great detail and be thoroughly questioned. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know all of the facts himself, but he definitely knew that he didn’t want to put her through having to recount it too many times. Those meetings were meant to be classified, but it wouldn’t take long before everyone would know.

Poe so desperately wished that he could save her from that part—when everyone on base would begin to look at her differently. He knew that it was inevitable though. While he sat there next to her bed, watching over her while she slept, he could only think about what was to come.

He knew that for however long she stayed asleep in this room, she was at least protected from all that was waiting out there. The thought comforted him some, even if it was only temporary.

He also knew that the two of them needed to talk about a lot of things once she woke up.

Her position in Black Squadron needed to be rethought. It was a massive understatement to say that her flying under him was unethical. Before Hol left for Batuu they tried to be discreet about their relationship. They both told themselves that they were doing a good enough job keeping things secret, a delusion that went well past the point of denial. They thought their regular heated arguments in front of the others and their general refusal to touch each other would provide ample cover, but their sneaking off to fuck in supplies closets hadn't always been the most covert. But now that she was back, Poe was ready to throw discretion out the window. 

There were without a doubt other positions for her as a pilot, other opportunities, but it was going to be difficult convincing her. Making her understand that it wasn’t a punishment would be delicate.

He would talk it over with Leia, with some of the other squadron leaders. He would confess that he was the one in the wrong, and readily accept whatever disciplinary action came his way. They would figure something out for Hol. They had to.

Poe knew he also owed her an apology. He could have handled things differently when she volunteered for the mission, he could have spoken his mind while remaining supportive. His only memories of that conversation were just of him dressing her down, desperately trying to pull rank as a last ditch effort to keep her from leaving by herself.

The truth was that he was so fucking proud of her. During the weeks she was gone he had been livid, walking around with anger bubbling under his skin at all times. But now all he wanted was for her to hear how proud he felt, because he didn't want to leave her with those memories of their final argument.

She kept her head cool and found her way back. She survived whatever hell she fell into and fought her way out. He still couldn’t wrap his head around how she managed to pull off the execution of that landing. She had one broken arm, was trying to evade being hit with no comms system, all while coming in on fumes.

A medtech came by a couple of hours later, which woke Poe out of a light sleep.

He sat up and watched from his cot as they administered medication, checked the tubes and wires around her body to make sure nothing was out of place. 

He mentioned the fever, which thankfully hadn't climbed any higher. They started her on another course of antibiotics.

“She looks peaceful, doesn’t she?” They asked him at one point.

The very moment he heard the word a bitter taste spread across his entire tongue, making his mouth twist downward in a frown. He knew they meant well enough, but his head still snapped around to look at them in disbelief.

Because "peaceful" had never been Hol. 

Conniving.

Stubborn.

Impulsive.

A pain in his ass.

There were easily ten dozen choice adjectives he and quite a few others on this base could use to describe Hol Tarmin, but peaceful was definitely not one.

Peaceful was a word that people used to describe the dead. 

And his girl wasn’t fucking dead. 

The very idea was something he couldn’t dwell on for too long, because of the way his foundation had very nearly crumbled during those weeks she was gone. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt panic the way he had at the crash site, thinking at any moment he would be forced to helplessly watch while she slipped away from him, like watching water slowly leak out of his cupped hands.

It felt selfish to have those thoughts while she was lying there in front of him, but he was keenly aware of how impossibly lucky they were to get her back — how impossibly lucky he was.

@idkwhattoputheress @boghag-after-dark @faveficsblog @flyleaf-girl @whatthehekko @maplemind @foxilayde @arctrooper69 @pascalsaac @booktvmoviefangirl @tattooednursewrites @wild-lavender-rose @alexlynn16 @euphorealis @pioneergirlsie @lilhawkeye3 @theedgeofmagik @x-wing-dameron @kik51199 @isretroavibe @mrs-kidflash @rawrimacarebear @peterwandaparker @kassdyer @holdingthegun

 . 

[typingatlightspeed]

TF2 Big Bang 2024 - A Proper Proposal

Demoman is sure Sniper is everything he could want in this world, so he's decided to propose to him. The problem is, he can't think of a proposal grand and impressive enough to properly express just how he feels, and how much Sniper means to him. Luckily, he has seven other teammates ready and willing to help him make this proposal something Sniper will never forget.

Part of the 2024 @tf2bigbang! <3 Ao3 Link!

I'm honoured to have been asked by the wonderful @boimann to team up for this event, my first big bang, and I'm over the moon at how lovely their piece (also included in the body of this fic) is! I had a lot of fun brainstorming this story, and when I asked boimann if there's anything they wanted to be sure I included, they said "mercs covered in blood". :D Not sure they meant chunky salsa gibs, but what can I say? The spirit moved me lmao. Canon-typical violence herein, nothing graphically described or anything. Bon appetit!

---------

One thing Demoman found himself forever grateful for was the fact that in spite of their overall shoddy accommodations, the base had central air conditioning. Otherwise, he'd have sweat to death by now.

As Demoman nuzzled into the fluff at the middle of Sniper's chest, a soft laugh puffed out of his nose, the Scot's muttonchops tickling at him. The man was wrapped around him, arms and legs encircling his body and holding him close in a death grip of a snuggle from which there was no escape. There was little cause for Sniper to make the attempt, of course. He lifted a hand to Demoman's chin and tilted his face up so that he could look into his bright brown eye, worry crossing his brow when he saw that it shined with unshed tears welling over its surface. "You okay?"

"Aye," Demoman said, his voice soft, like if he spoke too loud he'd shatter their moment of peace. "Just love ye so bloody much."

What a sap. An absolute softie. A complete and utter gooey romantic.

God, he was amazing.

"Get up here," Sniper teased, pulling Demoman up for a kiss, laughing against his lips. "Love you too, pup."

Demoman's grip only tightened as their lips met, one hand sneaking up to the back of Sniper's head to thread through his hair and scritch him gently. Their kisses were lazy and slow, tasting terrible with morning breath, but neither could bring himself to care as their tongues met and caressed one another. It was soft, gentle, so unlike every other aspect of their lives. Here, they could be sweet, and quiet, and warm, unlike the explosions and bloodshed and heat that awaited them in their workday.

They wouldn't give that part for the world, either. It was that balance that thrilled Demoman. That Sniper would take the bombast and the bomb blasts just as readily as the gentle touches and sweet nothings with equal amounts of enthusiasm, murmured words of adoration as natural as the report of a rifle for the rangy assassin. It set Demoman's heart aflutter, this perfect man, this mirror presenting an equal and opposite view of a life lived, so different yet loving him so much the same.

Demoman kissed a line from Sniper's lips to his cheek, then across his nose to the other, then craned up to peck one kiss to his forehead for good measure. He sighed, utterly smitten with the handsome bushman wrapped in him and the sheets they were tangled in.

Resting at the back of one of the drawers of his work desk, strewn with bomb-making materials, empty beer bottles, and full ashtrays, sat a receipt for a jeweler's shop in Teufort, for a ring. Demoman had the owner holding onto the thing for him, a custom creation that came at a pretty penny and couldn't afford to be found by clever eyes.

It had been agony, letting the ring sit unattended, unused, unpresented to the man it had been created specifically for. But as much as Demoman wanted to bring it home, to simply slot himself against Sniper's back one morning, spooning him with gentle kisses to the nape of his neck, and set the box down on his pillow in front of his face with the question unspoken but obvious, he knew Sniper deserved better. Sure, it was a sweet thought, but if there was one thing he knew about Sniper, it was that even though he'd come from a loving home, it was a decidedly lowkey one. Never had a big deal been made about him, a thorough to-do, a full-on fuss and hullabaloo, and if there were ever anyone who deserved such a splore, it was Mick Mundy.

Either way, Demoman had long since decided that these mornings, sleepy and cuddly and perfect in his man's arms, were how he wanted to spend the rest of his life. And God willing, Sniper felt the same.

Bells rang, breaking the quiet with their piercing shriek, and Demoman growled as he half-leaned away and flailed at the night stand, trying to find the damned alarm clock and murder the bloody thing.

He succeeded in knocking it to the floor where it continued to ring, now slowly vibrating in a loose circle from the force of its hammer hitting the bells atop it. Deflated, he flopped to the bed in misery. For once they'd gotten up before the alarm and had some time for themselves in the morning, and this is how the universe rewards him for such diligence? A long-suffering sigh left him as Sniper began to untangle himself.

"Right, it was lovely while it lasted," the bushman grunted, pulling himself into a half-seated position. "Contract calls."

Swatting around blindly, Demoman eventually gave up trying to find the clock on the floor without rolling over and harrumphed, wrapping his arms back around Sniper. "Nae."

"Look at you, Mr. Work Ethic 'imself fightin' the alarm. You've gotten too cozy, looks like," Sniper teased, scritching at his lover's scalp through his short curls.

"Cannae help it. I've got ye in me arms. How's a lad supposed tae let go o' that?"

"For a big fat paycheck," Sniper teased. "Come on, love. That bloody alarm's not going to shut up anyway." Demoman pouted. "Fine," he grumbled, finally letting Sniper go to roll over and snatch the clock from the floor and shut off its ringing bells. The room seemed deafeningly quiet in its sudden absence.

"There, much better—wagh!" Sniper squawked as he was tugged back down onto the bed by Demoman's strong arms, crushing him to his chest. "Oi! We've gotta be on the field in an hour! Tav! Come on, let me up! Tav! Let go! Tav you cunt!"

Demoman merely closed his eye and held on tight, a faked snore leaving his nose as Sniper struggled and cursed.

*

"So have you asked him yet?" Soldier asked, digging some residual moisture from his shower out of his ear with his pinky finger.

Demoman sighed, scrubbing a hand through his still-damp hair, a little annoyed that he still couldn't comfortably put a hat on yet. The dry desert air always made water evaporate off of skin quickly once the team had their post-work showers and filtered through the base for their afternoon business, but his hair always took forever to dry out. And he just knew if he put his hat on before it was fully, completely dry it would end up squished down against his head like he'd pomaded it there, and Sniper would tease him mercilessly about it the moment his hat came back off.

As much as he loved the man he was not about to give him craic ammunition. Handsome bastard would have to do that legwork for himself.

"Nae yet," Demoman said finally, earning a look of surprise from his friend.

"You paid for that ring last week! Don't tell me you're getting cold feet, Cyclops!"

"Never! I want tae spend the rest o' me life with Mickey!" A heavy sigh left Demoman's nose as he gathered his thoughts. "I just... I want tae make it right. Perfect, ye ken? I want it tae be big, meaningful, a real monumental sort o' proposal. Mickey's family loves him, but they're quiet, reserved folk. No one's ever made a big to-do about him, and he deserves that. Somethin' grand and special! A proper DeGroot proposal!"

"You're going to blind him?"

Demoman leveled a withering look at his friend, who smiled broadly in reply, fully aware of how much of a little shit he was being. "Nae, ye cheeky wee cunt! Look, when me da proposed tae me mum? Was on a job. They were the demolitions team contracted for an operation. Standard sort o' job, but Da always had a flair for the dramatic. They set up the buildin' the rest o' the team was heistin' tae blow, and while he was at it, Da added an extra little touch. He set the timin' in a specific pattern. So once the team's out and they're at distance, Mum hits the detonator, and instead o' it all goin' up at once, they blow up in a pattern, tae the rhythm o' the first song they ever danced tae. When she realized, he was already takin' her hand and slippin' a ring on her finger as he knelt and asked her tae marry him." With a wistful sigh, Demoman shook his head. "Bloody romantic."

"How'd she react?"

"She tore him a new arsehole for spendin' money on a ring!" Demoman laughed. "Then she said yes. That's Mum for ye."

"So you wanna give Sniper the same kind of proposal?"

"Nae the same, but somethin' with that sort o' spirit, aye. Just need tae figure out what is the problem. Once I've got the What, the When'll fall intae place."

"And you haven't come up with anything?"

"Nothin' seems grand enough. He deserves the bloody world."

Soldier shook his head, smiling all the same. His friend was so smitten it was almost pathetic, but what red-blooded American wouldn't want to show the one he loves how much they matter using explosives? It was what they did every July fourth, after all. "I'm going to help you. If you can't come up with an idea on your own, that ring's going to sit at the jeweler's and the receipt in your desk until Sniper stumbles on it someday and you'll look like a coward. I know you are not a coward, son! So we're going to assemble the greatest team in America to conduct this operation, and make it a crushing success!"

"The team? Ye think they'd help?"

"Why wouldn't they? We're a team, Tavish! And what's a marriage if not the most powerful kind of team there is? If marriage is sure to result in happiness, then you must marry!" Soldier nodded sagely. "Sun Tzu said that."

Demoman couldn't help but grin at Soldier's enthusiasm. And who knew? Maybe the team would be able to help him figure something out. A good group brainstorming session might be just the trick! "Couldn't hurt, I suppose. Mickey and Scout are on a beer run tae town on account o' Engie's doin' a software update on the teleporters today, so that gives us plenty o' time tae ask around."

Soldier nodded, the straps of his helmet wobbling with the motion. "So who do we talk to first?"

"Who else but the one bloke on this team that loves gettin' a crew together tae pull some barmy stunt only we can pull off?"

*

"A proposal?" Spy hummed, watching the whiskey in his rocks glass swirl, a light coating clinging to the glass and slowly breaking away as its surface tension was dispelled by gravity. He smiled warmly. "Possibly the most noble task I've been approached for in a long time."

"So will ye help me?" Demoman asked, crossing his arms, fidgeting with nervous energy. It drove him mad how Spy played so coy about every damned thing.

The smoking room was quiet for a long, uncomfortable moment, carefully calculated to provide the pause with proper pregnancy before Spy finally met Demoman's eye and nodded. "But of course. Far be it for me to deny romance, mon ami! While I don't particularly understand what you see in the bushman, it's abundantly clear how utterly smitten you are with him." Spy took a sip. "And he with you, muted as his reactions can be."

"I assure ye, nothin' about the lad's muted behind closed doors," Demoman said with a wag of his eyebrows.

"I am, tragically, also very aware of that, as well. These walls aren't soundproofed."

Soldier chuckled and elbowed Demoman who couldn't exactly deny it, his cheeks reddening a bit.

Spy smirked, then set his glass down atop his minibar. He cleared his throat, and tapped a bright red button on the top of his bar cabinet, a microphone popping out of a hidden compartment. The public address system across the base squealed gently with the slightest ring of feedback before clearing, and resounding with Spy's voice as he spoke.

"Attention, gentlemen. Report to the briefing room in thirty minutes for an emergency meeting. Thank you."

A second tap of the button pulled the microphone back into its compartment, and Spy lifted his glass once again and took a sip. "I will meet you there, gentlemen. If there are any preparations you need to make before that, now is your time."

"Half an hour? Why not now?" Soldier asked.

"Because I have my own preparations to attend to as well," Spy hummed. He downed the last of his drink and gestured to the door. "The clock is ticking, gentlemen."

Getting the hint, Demoman tossed Spy a salute and grabbed Soldier by the elbow. "Aye, thanks, Spy. See ye then."

Once the door had shut, Spy lifted the receiver of his phone, and dialed a number on its rotary. A moment of ringing later, a voice answered on the other end of the line, flanked by the popping of gunfire, "Pauling here!"

"Good afternoon, Miss Pauling. I hope I'm not interrupting anything..."

*

When at last every mercenary on base had filed into the briefing room, Spy shut the door gently, its soft click seeming portentous in the curious hush of the room. The fact that Soldier wasn't making a racket was already making everyone else a little nervous.

"Gentlemen," Spy said warmly, beatific and genteel as he stepped the the centre of their gaze across the table, his arms folded behind his back and a smile playing at his lips. His eyes fairly sparkled.

Everyone realized at once that Spy was about to launch into a speech. Engineer trundled over to the coffee maker and set about doling out cups.

"I bring you here today for a mission of great importance. We men of murder and malevolence are not often called upon to serve the more noble motivations of mankind. Rarely are soldiers of fortune such as we tasked with more than violence, destruction, skulduggery, and far more sinister things, living weapons to be wielded against our neighbour, to accomplish whatever dark deeds our benefactors demand." Spy withdrew a cigarette from his case and held it between his thumb and forefinger, inspecting it for a moment before turning his eyes back to the team. "Today, if only for a fleeting moment, we break the chains of servitude to the almighty dollar that we have willingly wrapped around our necks, cast off the yoke of deception and cruelty, and emerge as men, with clear eyes and open hearts, our hands, stained though they may be, ready to serve the greatest, most worthy cause that exists in this world." He snapped his cigarette case shut and tucked it into his jacket pocket. "Love, gentlemen."

Spy lit his cigarette and took a drag. "It is no secret that we here at BLU have seen love bloom on our battlefield. Our Demoman," he gestured to the man in question, "and Sniper have found comfort in one another's arms, romance blossoming between the bullets and bombs, taking root so deep, that our dear DeGroot seeks to formalize their bond as matrimony."

Medic gasped, grinning giddily as he turned to look at Demoman, lightly clapping his gloved hands together in delight. Pyro mirrored the action on his other side, and Demoman quickly found the entire team's eyes on him instead of the man speaking. He shrank in his seat, a little embarrassed.

"But what proposal could possibly suffice for the prince of the Highland Demomen? What proposal could ever truly illustrate just how impossibly important Mick Mundy is in this man's heart? That, gentlemen, is why we are here today."

Taking another puff from his cigarette, Spy began to pace slowly, the motion catching the team's attention and bringing it back to him. "We are men of violence, yes, but we are also men of action." He gestured to Soldier. "Men of science." His hand swept to Medic, Engineer, and Demoman in turn. "Men of art." Heavy and Pyro. "And men of passion!" He spread both arms wide, to present the team to themselves, his cigarette tucked between two fingers and making an arc with its smoke. "We, gentlemen, are a team, and as a team, we can accomplish anything. And on this day, we will devise a proposal so grand, so powerful, so explosive, that it will shake the very foundations of romance itself, and leave it forever changed in its wake!"

Silence fell over the room. Softly, Pyro clapped his gloved fingertips together, to which Spy nodded appreciatively.

"Er, right. So, I wannae propose tae Mickey," Demoman said, fingers digging under his knit cap to scratch at the back of his head. Spy always had to make things so bloody dramatic. "And I want it tae be big, meaningful, ye ken? He deserves tae feel special with it, made a big deal 'o."

"Ach, that is so sweet, Demo! Do you have a ring?"

"It's been ordered, but it's still at the jeweler's in town. He's holdin' it so Mickey disnae find it."

"When you plannin' on poppin' the question?"

"Soon, but I dinnae have a specific date."

"You have location?"

"Nae."

"That is precisely why we've assembled a brain trust of sorts, to work out the best possible proposal," Spy said, taking a seat at the table.

Pyro hopped to his feet and trundled over to the blackboard, snatching up a piece of chalk. "You said you wanted it to be explosive, right?"

"Aye. Ye thinkin' fireworks?"

"Better." Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Pyro drew a vague approximation of the RED base on the board, as seen from BLU's battlements. "What does Sniper love more than anything in the world?"

"Demoman!" Soldier announced, looking to his teammates proudly for having gotten the answer right.

"After Demo," Pyro corrected with a laugh.

"Work," Heavy said simply. "Sniper never shut up about job."

"His professional standards, the merits of his work's flexibility," Medic added.

"Get too close to the feller you realize he talks an awful lot 'o' shit 'bout poppin' heads when he's lookin' down the scope, too," Engineer chuckled. "Real joy in what he does."

"He loves shooting people from far away," Soldier agreed.

"Exactly!" Pyro turned to the board and drew a few dead stick figures around the base, with head wounds. "So how about surprising him at work?"

"What do you recommend?" Spy asked, intrigued.

"He's always going to be looking at the RED base, so let's give him something to look at. Write it out across the REDs' walls for him to see."

"In blood!" Soldier said, slamming his fist into his palm.

"With bombs!" Pyro corrected. "Blood won't show up; the base is red."

"How? And when? Nae like I can sneak out there at the start o' the match," Demoman hummed, thoughtfully.

"What about settin' up those bombs on remote, like a sticky trap meant to deliver a message?" Engineer asked. "Maybe a bunch o' real careful shaped charges?"

"Hard to make letters with just shrapnel and burn marks," Heavy countered.

"What about paint?" Pyro asked. "You'd need a lot more than just your usual sticky setup, but a bunch of specially-made miniature stickies filled with paint? You know the geometry and physics on this better than anyone, but I bet Engie could help with it, too! Set 'em all up and when they're in place, let 'em rip and splash Marry Me Mundy over the front of the RED base where everyone—especially Sniper—can see!" He turned the chalk sideways to write the letters in broad strokes on his drawing of the base.

"That could work!" Demoman said, perking up with excitement. "But how am I tae set this up? Durin' a match?"

"Perhaps not," Spy hummed, stubbing his cigarette out in the ash tray. "Before coming to this meeting, I placed a call. Miss Pauling owes me a large favour from some very important, very last-minute contract work I did for her recently. I informed her that I was calling it in. I have arranged for her to establish a sudden ceasefire day in three days' time, with a falsified cover story about emergency respawn maintenance, and find a contract for Sniper that can fill his time that day to keep him away from base. Then, we will be free to place the explosives properly and at our leisure, to prepare for the next day. Then, when the shutters open and we take the field, you can detonate the paint bombs for a proper proposal."

"Then once the match is over, I can greet him in the locker room with the ring."

"What if we lose match? Will ruin mood," Heavy hummed.

"Then we must make sure we win! We will be fighting not just for victory, but for love!" Soldier demanded, slamming a fist on the table. "We cannot lose, men!"

"No pressure, right fellas?" Engineer chuckled.

"You said the ring is still with your jeweler?" Spy asked.

"Aye. Didnae trust meself tae hide it well enough."

"Fair. Sniper is observant by trade, after all. Then it will have to be fetched. Is it at Enrique's, perchance?"

"Spy, there's only one jeweler in Teufort. 'Course it's at Enrique's."

"Then allow me to fetch it for you. One less activity for you to hide from your fiance-to-be. I will be joining Miss Pauling and Sniper on their contract, and will keep in communication with you regarding our estimated times of arrival. I can easily slink away for the ring during such."

"Thank ye, Spy."

"Any time," Spy hummed, lighting another cigarette. "So, we have myself and Miss Pauling on jewelry and distraction team. Pyro, I assume you can help with the paints."

"Sure, I've got a bunch we can test to make sure it can stand up to explosives and get good coverage. And show up against RED's wall."

"I can help as well," Medic chirped. "Viscosity is going to be a concern as well as pigment when it comes to coverage, and I have quite a bit of knowledge in comparative viscosity of fluids in relation to their aerodynamic properties!"

Everyone's faces soured a moment, imagining what horrors that knowledge entailed.

Spy shook it off. "Demoman, you and Engineer can manufacture the bombs, yes?"

"Aye, should be nae danger. Construction and placement."

"It'll be fun figurin' out the angles on this, if I'm honest," Engineer chuckled. "Plus who don't love blowin' things all to hell?"

"Heavy—"

"I will handle Scout," Heavy announced, preemptively weary.

That gave Spy pause. "Yes, he will be a concern. The sooner he finds out about this plan the longer we have to be concerned he will let the information slip and spoil the surprise." "He does not keep secrets well," Heavy agreed. "Strange," he added, giving Spy a long, knowing look. The corner of his lip twitched upward just barely, and the rogue gave him a hard, unamused stare in reply.

"So you running interference with him is a good idea, thank you, Heavy," Spy continued brusquely.

Medic elbowed Heavy, who cracked into a full smirk in spite of himself. "Schatz. Don't antagonize him, he's doing a sweet thing." "Yes, Doktor." Heavy looked away from Spy, trying to tamp down his own amusement.

"When we do let Scout in on it though, he could be good for setting up a few bombs if we need to put any in weird spots that might need hand-placement," Pyro said, turning his darkened lenses at Heavy as a threat. "Since he can jump and climb better than any of us."

"And I will make sure we win this match, come hell or high water! We will not let a loss ruin this, as God is my witness!" Soldier barked. He clapped a hand on Demoman's shoulder. "You have my word as an American that your man is gonna get the best proposal in the history of our great country! You're gonna propose the pants right off him!"

A wobbly smile crept across the Scot's lips as he looked at the helmet that covered where his friend's eyes were. "Aye, thank ye, Soldier. Thank ye all. Ye dinnae ken what it means tae me—"

Everyone shifted uneasily. They could hear the telltale quaver in their teammate's voice.

"We do, mon ami. Now, please, let us adjourn so that we can begin preparations," Spy interrupted hurriedly, trying to derail the emotional outpouring followed by likely crying jag that was mounting already, earnest though it may be. "Save your tears for when you are holding you new fiance."

Demoman sniffled, a deep breath following it at he forced back tears. "Aye, let's get tae it, lads. We've a plan, now let's put it intae action." "Ready?" Soldier asked, hopping from his seat. "Ready!" Demoman echoed, grinning as he rose in turn.

"CHARGE!"

*

Three days of preparation felt like no time at all, but as paints were mixed and loaded into custom-machined sticky bombs and tested in a small blast chamber in Engineer's workshop, Demoman found himself growing more and more impatient for the day to arrive.

"This is takin' forever," he grumbled, going over his notes with a frown.

"Wish we had a little more time to test and iterate," Engineer grumbled. He scratched at his chin. "We ain't gettin' the kind 'o' power we need to cover the distance between the bridge and the buildin'. At this rate it ain't gonna say nothin' on the side 'o' RED's base, let alone 'Marry Me Mundy'."

Demoman pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed at it. "Aye, but there's only so much power we can put in these we bastards with a shaped charge inside, let alone nae just vaporizin' the paint on detonation, nae matter how thick the stuff is. Tae keep it goin' in a direction with the power we need, we either need bigger bombs, which means it'll be harder tae get the angles we need tae spell anythin'."

"Maybe we're comin' at this all wrong. What about if we put the bombs on the buildin' itself, make 'em splatter in place."

"We'd only need squibs for that," Demoman hummed. "Would be a right pain settin' em up, but we wouldn't need tae bring protractors out there tae get everythin' in place the right way."

Engineer chuckled at that. "I dunno about squibs, though. After all, we still want a nice big kaboom to get Sniper's attention, after all."

"Aye, yer nae wrong there. Right now we've got enough bloody kaboom tae turn the REDs tae paste if they stumbled intae the blast zone!" Demoman grinned at that. "Alright, we'll focus on the power behind 'em later. Now we've a better plan, we should focus on designin' a better housin' for the bombs, first. Since we're puttin' 'em on the buildin' now, we could build a launcher tae speed up the process."

"No monotaskers," Engineer said firmly, a knife-hand gesture emphasizing his point. "We're already on a time crunch; I ain't about to start R&D on a mini-sticky launcher you're gonna use once."

"Aye, aye, nae danger," Demoman hummed, disappointed. "Right, let's get back tae the drawin' board on these hand-set stickies, then."

Engineer grabbed a new sheet of blueprint paper and a compass. "Sounds like a plan. You see my pencil anywhere?" he asked, forgetting for the third time in an hour that he'd tucked it behind his ear.

Medic giggled excitedly as Pyro pried the lid off of one of the paint cans he'd hauled back from the hardware store. Inside, the paint was a cool, saturated azure that almost matched Sniper's uniform shirt. "Oh, this colour is perfect!" he cooed, dipping a stir-stick into the goop and withdrawing it, watching the paint run off of it in thick rivulets.

"I went for an exterior paint made with latex," Pyro said. "They said it could thicken a little if we left it open so the water inside evaporates."

"Ah, that's true, but with latex, I know of an additive we can use to further increase its viscosity!" Medic declared, thrusting a finger into the air. "I should still have some hydroxyethyl cellulose somewhere in my lab, and that can thicken anything water-soluble!"

Pyro clapped his hands together. "That's perfect! We need to make sure this paint is nice and goopy so the guys can really launch it!"

"I'll go dig around for it. I'll get my Zahn cups too, so we can get actual measurements for Demo and Engie's purposes. They're going to want the math on this, I'm sure."

"Good thing you know how to calculate that kind of stuff. When I build it's usually based on feel alone," Pyro chuckled.

Medic merely replied with an impish grin in lieu of admitting that he operated much the same.

Heavy wasn't nearly as excited or feeling as industrious with his assigned task: distracting Scout. Keeping Sniper out of the loop was easy. After all, the man was generally easygoing and content to hang out with Scout outside or do some light hunting and let people have their space. Sometimes projects came up, and he was rarely involved in his teammates' R&D, so it wasn't anything terribly out of the ordinary for him.

Scout, on the other hand was nosy. And dogged in his determination to find out when something was being kept from him. His little brother instincts were honed to a razor's edge, which none of the team wanted turned on them. Heavy, having suffered the slings and arrows of helping raise three little sisters, had the best chance to weather the storm.

"Surprised you wanted me to work out with you," Scout said, hands splayed on the gym wall as he leaned in and stretched his hamstrings. "Doc finally get on you about your cardio?"

"No," Heavy grunted, then half-shrugged. "Yes. But is not reason. Doktor is working on something with Pyro this week, and I am waiting for new book to come in mail. I want to do something... eh," he rolled his hand in the air, trying to find the right word, "useful? Producing?"

"Productive?"

"This," Heavy said, nodding gratefully. "Something productive to do with time until then." He tugged his hooded sweatshirt off and set it aside, taking a seat on the workout bench. The fluffy hair on his shoulders, chest, and belly danced lightly in the breeze of the box fan that sat at one edge of the gym.

"So workin' out with me is productive?"

"Tiny Scout flex often, but no muscles show. You are not weak man, but you are lean. Want to show you how to lift to build muscle that is visible."

Scout's eyebrow lifted, and he turned to face Heavy, his fists coming to rest on his narrow hips. "Yeah? Why you feelin' so charitable all of a sudden?" Suspicion had his nostrils flaring, like he could sniff out some kind of misdirection.

"Boredom." With a tilt of his head to the side, Heavy sighed and worked Scout's ego with an offer of exchange, "And maybe then you help Heavy with cardio so Doktor give me less trouble. Mega baboon hearts are expensive, he always tell me."

Scout snorted a laugh at that. "Fuckin' a! If the guy's costs weren't covered by 'is contract, 'e'd give us a freakin' invoice after every match!"

Heavy barked a laugh at that, slapping his thigh.

In three days' time, Miss Pauling arrived on base with a clipboard, a few manila folders, and a knowing glance to Spy before gathering the team in the briefing room and informing them of a ceasefire being abruptly called because of emergency respawn maintenance. She handed one to Engineer, and he grumbled that he'd get right on it and left to go get a drink, thumbing through the Mann Co catalog she'd tucked inside to give it believable bulk.

"The rest of you are on liberty for the rest of the day," she said, shuffling through her papers. "Except Sniper, and you, Spy. You two stay here."

Everyone else filed out, leaving her with the two mercenaries. She closed the door with a light click, and tossed two manila folders onto the table. "I have work for you two."

*

Scout skidded to a halt in front of the rec-room door, snatching hold of the jamb to stabilize himself. "Miss P's truck just pulled out. We're go, guys!"

"Lookout says we're go, so let's go, ladies! Up and at 'em! Move out! Go! Go! Go!" Soldier whooped, hopping to his feet and ushering the others out.

The mercenaries rushed out, Demoman and Engineer grabbing the bombs and plans from the workshop, the rest of the team mustering at the gate to the battlefield. Once everyone arrived, they threw the gate open and spilled onto the field, making a bee-line for the end of the covered bridge that separated BLU from RED, and would make their staging point.

"So, where will we be placing these bombs to get the paint on the building?" Medic asked. "Is the bridge enough surface area for them all?"

"Naw, we ran the numbers and did some control tests, and the amount of propulsion we'd need to get the paint from here to there'd end up just splatterin' it everywhere. Instead, we cut out the middle man. Bombs get planted on the wall itself, and explode outward in all directions. We just gotta make sure we ain't in the line 'o' fire when they go off, since they're still gonna fire off spikes, shrapnel, and a whole hell of a lot 'o' kinetic energy."

"Shouldnae be too bad, since we dialed down the explosives inside tae compensate."

Engineer froze in place, thinking for a moment. "...Did we?"

"O' course we did, we talked about it."

"...but did we actually do it? I remember talkin' about doin' it, but did we actually change the measurements when we loaded these puppies?" Engineer asked, biting at his lip as he realized a sudden massive hiccup in their process.

Demoman shrugged. "Too late tae double-guess it now. Important thing is it'll still write the words, which is all that matters." He set down the toolbox full of bombs, flipping it open to reveal a pile of small, palm-sized blue bombs bearing long, thin spikes designed to wedge deep into the wood and hold the bombs in place overnight. "Right, time we get tae work, lads. Plenty 'o bombs, and it's all by hand. Take a few, pick a spot, and get tae work. Scout, ye and Heavy're on the high spots."

"Aye aye!"

*

"What the hell?"

The RED Spy narrowed his eye as he looked down the rifle scope, watching the amassment of BLUs at their battlefield doorstep. He lowered the rifle and looked to the RED Sniper beside him, who nodded, satisfied that he'd seen the same thing. "It looks as though they're attaching something to the wall. It is hard to tell from this angle."

"Saw 'em totin' out a toolbox filled with little miniature stickies with longer spikes on 'em, and some sort of schematic. Got me wonderin' if they're usin' this little respawn outage as an excuse to do some impromptu demolitions on our base."

"But that would be madness," Spy said, handing Sniper back his rifle. "Surely their contracts are as ironclad as ours are. Base offensives during downtime aren't just a breach of contract, it forfeits one's life!"

"Grounds for termination," Sniper echoed with a dark laugh. "Right, but then if it's not that, then what the hell is it? A nasty little surprise for the start of the work day tomorrow? Not bloody sportin', is it?"

"I suppose it's a clever way to gain a short-term advantage," Spy conceded.

"Underhanded way, more like it. Fair dinkum clever but there's a difference between bein' a bunch of mad cunts and bein' a bunch of dog cunts."

Spy stared at Sniper for a long moment. "Your people have such an elegant way with the English language."

"Oh piss off."

"Regardless, we should alert the rest of the team. This cannot go unchallenged. I suspect if nothing else, coming running to our front porch like a horde of irritated pensioners, threatening them to get off of our lawns, may suffice to spoil their fun."

"If you can get Soldier to not go full-on offensive. Or worse, Demo. After all, they're plantin' stickies, and 'is ex is out there."

*

"I have completed the letter M!" Soldier barked, stepping back from what—thankfully—actually was a fully-set letter M on the wall of the RED base.

"Grand, lad," Demoman replied, jamming another sticky into the wood. "Yer all doin' grand!"

"Yeah, we gotchu, Demo," Scout said, eyeing up a jump. "Can't have Snipes gettin' a normal borin' ol' proposal." He grabbed a sticky and took a few steps back. "Still can't believe you guys didn't tell me til this mornin', though."

"Couldnae risk it, lad. Ye two are mates. Could've let it slip."

"Psh, yeah sure. Like I'd ruin somethin' this important." Scout ran and leapt, slapping the sticky onto the wall and kicking off to land in the gravel with a crunch.

"Like you ruin Doktor's surprise party last month?" Heavy asked, wedging another bomb into the wall.

"It was not that big a deal," Medic sighed, trying to defuse things.

"Man, you ain't never gonna let me forget about—hey wait is that why you had me in the gym all week? Were you runnin' interference to keep me in the dark? Ohh pally, you slimy—man I thought we were bondin' an' shit! I thought oh hey maybe the big guy forgives me for the party thing finally an' wants to just go back to bein' buddies an' all along you were just keepin' me busy so I didn't find out about all the paint mixin' an' bomb makin' an' proposal plannin'?" Scout threw his arms wide. "What the hell?!"

"Lay off him, son," Engineer chastised, clapping a hand on Scout's shoulder. "We assigned him the job. Last thing any one of us wanted was this gettin' out too soon, and as you showed with Doc's birthday, when you get excited, sometimes this," he pointed to Scout's mouth, "moves faster'n this," he tapped Scout's head. "Don't mean you ain't tryin', or that you don't care. We just all know how hyped up you get, so we wanted to keep the anticipation to a dull roar, is all."

Scout's scowl slowly morphed into a pout, and he turned his eyes back to Heavy, who was staring at him evenly, waiting to see his response. "Yeah, okay. I guess. Whatever. Let's get this done before Miss P gets back with Spy an' Snipes." It was as good a result as they could have hoped for, and Heavy and Engineer shared a look as they went back to work, knowing full well that within ten minutes Scout would be over it and chattering merrily again.

"How are you so good at that?" Medic leaned in to ask as Engineer trotted past him.

"Just gotta know how to massage a fella's ego the right way so it don't bruise too much, is all," Engineer replied with a chuckle. "Same as negotiatin' a contract."

Medic nodded, understanding that all too well. "Ah, a fair point!"

"How much longer do you think we have, anyway?" Pyro asked, one arm full of stickies as he worked at the bottom of the Y in 'Mundy'.

Demoman checked his watch. "Nae as long as I'd like. We need tae get on it, lads. They should be on their way back already."

"Awright, time to knock this into high gear! Hey, Heavy, boost me up! If I climb up the battlement I can get on the awnin' an' put the 'marry' up there!"

"That's a lot for one person," Engineer said.

"Soldier, you wanna grab the Rocket Jumper from resupply real quick? You land like a freakin' cat off those jumps. Between the two of us we should be able to get it done."

"Roger!" Soldier hollered, charging back across the bridge into the BLU base.

"It does deviate from the plan," Engineer hummed, scratching at his chin, "but it does increase visibility."

"Aye, good idea! Nae way it disnae catch his eye now." Demoman grinned broadly as he watched Soldier hustling back with his launcher, Scout already climbing onto Heavy's shoulders and beginning to scale the building proper. He imagined Sniper's voice crackling through the radio when the bombs went off, disbelief and excitement all blended together as he choked out his answer amid a hail of paint and shrapnel.

*

The drive to and from the job site probably doubled the time of the actual job itself, possibly including the stopover in Teufort for Spy to gather additional recon. All the same, it had been an easy job, a nice paycheck, and Sniper couldn't complain about that. It had almost been too easy.

"Surprised you didn't just do this one yourself," Sniper mused, catching his hat as an errant breeze through the open window of Miss Pauling's beater of a truck threatened to steal it. "Was a piece of piss, really."

"It was the range, if I'm honest," Miss Pauling lied, her eyes never leaving the empty, open road. "I'm better up-close, and this guy has a habit of keeping his perimeter pretty secure, hence the need to strike from outside of it."

"S'pose you do work mostly in pistols and shotguns," Sniper conceded.

"I own a few rifles, but I've got an astigmatism so scopes are kind of weird for my eyes. Plus if I'm doing the wetwork it's generally because nobody can find out. Full blackout kind of stuff, and sniping's pretty public." She chuckled a little, thinking of the screams and sudden scramble of everyone around when Sniper had taken the shot.

"Yes, they cannot all be week-long stakeouts or risky shots taken in the middle of firefights," Spy said with a sigh, trying his hardest to narrow his body to avoid physical contact as he sat between Miss Pauling and Sniper. He was aching for a cigarette, but in spite of the open windows (thanks to a very broken AC unit), Miss Pauling had made it clear that he would have to ride in the truck bed if he wanted to smoke.

He almost wished he'd taken her up on that, now.

"Either way, a short day's not so bad. Strewth, might turn in early and get a good night's sleep for once," Sniper chuckled. "Get dinner, skull a couple of tinnies with the lads, grab Demo and drag 'im to bed."

"Sniper!" Miss Pauling teased, playing at being scandalized.

"For a lie down!" Sniper drawled, glaring at her in mock-defensiveness. "Dunno what you've got on your mind, but I was just thinkin' of how much of a bloody cuddle-monster Demo is. Coziest night's sleep you can imagine, 'long as you like sleepin' with a bloke wrapped around you like a koala." He chuckled at that.

Spy made a show of rolling his eyes. "Yes, that is all you two do."

"Never said that."

Miss Pauling snorted a little laugh as Sniper turned his attention out the window and the passing desert, a smile playing at his lips as he thought back to their mornings, Demoman pulling him back into bed for just a few more minutes, just another snuggle, just another kiss, just a little bit longer in the quiet of morning, wrapped in one another's arms.

It made his chest feel full, his heart feel light as he reflected on the memory of that gentle moment of giddy love, and how lucky he was to have it.

If you'd told him when he'd taken this contract that the guy chugging cider and shooting bombs at people would turn out to be the love of his life, he'd have called you an outright galah, talking complete nonsense just to hear your own voice. He and Demoman couldn't have been more different!

Demoman was everything Sniper wasn't. He was loud, excitable, unpredictable, and from a home that told him his occupation was worth more than he was as a person.

Sniper was everything Demoman wasn't. He was quiet, patient, stable, and from a loving home with parents who only wanted safety and prosperity for their son.

And yet, there was so much about them that matched. A mirror image, opposite but the same. Both of them were passionate about their work. Both of them stuck out like sore thumbs among their countrymen, in spite of their own immense national pride. Demoman was a Highlander through and through, and you'd not find a more true blue Aussie than Sniper. Both of them knew what it was like to never be enough, to be an outsider in their own homes, to doubt themselves because of it. Both of them wanted someone to just accept them for who they were, all of it, and more than that, love them for it.

For all of Demoman's grins and laughter. For all of Sniper's smirks and stories.

For all of Demoman's tears and tragedies. For all of Sniper's doubts and isolation.

He'd have called you an outright galah, and he couldn't have been more wrong if he'd tried. God help him he'd never been happier to be proven wrong.

Demoman made him feel wanted. Appreciated. Adored. He made him feel like he fit in ways he hadn't since he first left his parents' arms as a child. He made him happy in ways he wasn't sure he'd ever felt or could even conceive of. Demoman felt like part of him, not a missing piece or something so cliche, but like vines that had grown into the brick of an ancient building, so intertwined that they may as well be one whole structure. He never felt more peace than when he could feel his weight on his chest, his muttonchops gently tickling his skin, his strong arms wrapped tightly around his narrow middle; when Demoman could hear his heartbeat and would smile against him as the sound lulled him to sleep, fingers twitching lightly in his dreams. Even when he snored.

A soft laugh left Sniper's nose. He fancied he'd be fine with it if he heard that snore every night for the rest of his life.

*

"They're climbin' the freakin' base?" RED Scout asked, narrowing his eyes as he looked out onto the field. The RED team had assembled atop one of their gravel silos.

"See? Plantin' bloody explosives. Fuckin' oath, just like I said."

RED Demoman sneered at the sight of Soldier rocket jumping onto the metal awning beside Scout, nimbly landing and motioning for Heavy to throw the toolbox filled with the remaining bombs. "Plantin' bombs in the off hours. Just like that soulless bloody monster tae set traps like the coward he is."

"This aggression cannot stand, boys!" RED Soldier barked, stomping his foot. "We are not about to let those maggots dance up to our doorstep and take a big fat crap on the welcome mat! They are not welcome at all!"

"To arms!" Demoman declared, storming into the base.

*

"Thanks again, guys," Miss Pauling called as the passenger door shut, Sniper and Spy stretching in the evening sun after the long drive. "Money should be in your accounts by tomorrow. And I'll try to get that new hat you were after, Sniper."

"Aces. Have a good one, Miss Paulin'."

The truck roared to life, and with a final wave, Miss Pauling sped off, kicking up a cloud of dust in her wake as she pulled out of the lot and onto the dirt road that led from the base.

"Now that that's done and over with, let's get back inside where the air conditioning actually works," Spy grumbled, fussing with his jacket. "I wish she would take Engineer up on his offers to fix that rolling heap she calls a truck."

"She's gonna run that thing until it stops rolling before she actually lets 'im look at it," Sniper chuckled, slinging his rifle across his back and heading for the base. "Means she'd 'ave to plan for downtime otherwise, and Miss Paulin' don't rightly know the meanin' of downtime."

"In spite of having one job she's managed to be an even bigger workaholic than your dear partner," Spy snorted, falling in step beside him.

The jaunt from the end of the lot to the base wasn't a particularly long one, but it did afford a view of the battlefield between buildings. Spy caught himself craning a bit to see if the team had finished, eyes widening as he saw Scout and Soldier at work, standing precariously atop the shoddy metal awning that sat over the RED base's central sniper's nest. All of that time, and they still weren't finished, and being super obvious about it. What's worse, they were going to get the attention of—

"Holy dooley!" Sniper tipped his sunglasses down as he stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide as he looked through the gap between buildings out at the field. "Is that the team? The bloody 'ell are they doin' out there?" His eye was drawn by a blur of red, and he choked on his breath. The RED team were atop one of the silos, and their Demoman was leading a charge inside, likely to get weapons. "REDs! We've gotta warn 'em; they're gonna get killed!"

"What—"

"Respawn's off, Spy! The maintenance! They're gonna get killed! Tav's out there!" Terror choked Sniper's voice as panic rose in his gut and seized his heart. He took off at a sprint for the base, gravel crunching like the churning of a runaway train with each step.

"Mundy!" Spy called, giving chase. Merde, this could not have possibly taken a worse turn.

"There, that's the last one," Scout announced, wedging the final sticky into place and clapping his hands. "Comin' down!" he called, and began to slowly hop from ledge to ledge to reach the ground. Soldier followed less elegantly, landing with a grunt beside him.

Demoman checked his watch. "Just in bloody time, too. Let's get off this field before they get back and catch us—"

"TAV!" Sniper's voice ripped across the battlefield, making the BLUs turn as he tore out of the entrance to the base, sprinting for the bridge, Spy hot on his heels. "REDs INCOMING! RESPAWN'S OFF, TAV!"

"Mickey?!"

"Catch you doin' what, ye prancin' dandies? Sneakin' ontae the field durin' a ceasefire tae set a trap like a bunch o' bloody cowards?!" From the woodwork, RED mercenaries emerged in force, weapons at the ready, their Demoman coming into view at the battlement window.

Demoman froze. None of them were armed, and if the REDs killed them, it would reveal that Respawn was still live, which would make Sniper start asking a lot of questions. And the bombs being discovered already meant they wouldn't remain until morning anyway. Everything was going tits up and panic began to simmer in his brain as Sniper crossed the bridge.

Before he could say a word, he felt a weight at his belt. He turned to see Soldier yank the detonator from his pouch with a broad grin, eyes glinting as he beheld his mortal enemy at the middle of the battlement. "See you in hell, traitor," he growled.

"CHARGE!"

"GET DOWN!"

As the REDs leapt to action, the BLUs leapt to the ground, and Soldier flipped the switch on Demoman's detonator, stopping Sniper in his tracks in the middle of the bridge, a scream ripping from his throat. Spy skidded to a stop at his side, jaw dropping open.

The bombs exploded in a deafening cacophony, rocketing paint, shrapnel, and concussive force in every direction, covering the RED base in a mixture of azure and bright crimson. Heat passed as a wave that sliced through the air with a breeze in its wake, and Sniper fell to his knees in horror.

There was blood everywhere. There was gore everywhere. Body parts, bare giblets left of what they once were, showered to the ground and splattered every surface, which dripped just as thickly with blue paint. A hopeless wail forced itself from Sniper's throat as tears flooded his eyes, his body buckling forward to support himself on his hands. Gone. They were gone. Respawn was off, there was no way that—

"Mundy," Spy murmured, laying a hand on his teammate's shoulder. "Mundy, it's fine."

"What the fuck do you mean it's fi—"

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," Scout groaned, dragging himself to his hands and knees, covered head to toe in a mixture of paint and viscera.

"Maybe make bombs too strong," Heavy groaned.

"Just a little," Medic grunted, almost colliding with Heavy's chin as he lifted his head, the giant having thrown himself mostly atop him to shield him. All the same, his glasses were a complete loss, one lens fully blue, one lens smeared red.

"I was right; we forgot to change the formula after all. Too much mustard on those babies," Engineer grumbled, shoving what was likely half of the RED Scout's torso off of himself and sitting up. "Everybody alright?"

A thumbs-up surged out of a heap of gore, and Pyro's muffled, "I'm okay!" sounded from beneath it.

Soldier shot to his feet, laughing. "Hell of a show, Cyclops!" he cheered, bending over to dig through some rubble and meat and tugging Demoman out of it, helping him up.

"Tavish!" Sniper gasped, scrambling to his feet. He fairly dove out of the bridge onto him, wrapping his arms around the man as he nearly tackled him right back to the ground, squeezing him hard enough to hurt. "You're okay! I thought I'd lost you! I thought—" his voice choked out, and he buried his face in the mess of blood and paint on his lover's chest, holding back a sob. "God, I thought I'd lost you."

"Takes more'n that tae be rid o' me," Demoman soothed him, rubbing circles on his back, his heart breaking for the agony he'd put Sniper through.

Sniper responded by clinging all the harder, and kissing him until they were both out of breath, unable to summon any words but a desperate, terrified, relieved whimper.

Pyro burrowed his way out of the mess of body parts he'd been buried in, wiping the lenses of his mask clean enough to see. Catching sight of his teammates' embrace, he hummed out a soft little, "Aww."

Heavy climbed to his feet and helped Medic up, giving his hand a squeeze as they looked over as well. Medic squeezed back, a fond little sound leaving him.

When at last they parted, Sniper caressed Demoman's cheek, his hand shaking, his whole body quaking with residual adrenaline. "Well. We're out of a bloody job now, aren't we though?"

"Nae danger, they'll be back soon enough," Demoman chuckled, leaning into the touch.

"No they won't. Respawn maintenance, remember? We've just killed the other team!"

Engineer let out a nervous chuckle. "Well, y'see, about that, Stretch..."

Sniper looked to Engineer in confusion. "Wait, Truckie? Aren't you supposed to be—"

"Pff, and you guys thought I was gonna ruin the surprise," Scout scoffed, getting up and casting about to find his hat.

"Surprise?" Sniper sighed. "Tav, what the hell is goin' on?"

"Er, well, y'see... we sort 'o... set this all up. The ceasefire, the alleged respawn maintenance, Miss Pauling takin' ye out for a contract..."

Sniper looked back to Spy, who simply smiled and shrugged, then slunk past them to hand Demoman a small, black box.

"Was plannin' tae paint it on the RED base so ye'd see it first thing when we started the match tomorrow. Even built special paint bombs for it so I could do it with a bang, ye ken. But I guess it didnae turn out."

"Paint what? Tav..."

Demoman took a breath and straightened up, looking Sniper in the eye with purpose, the sudden change in his bearing taking the assassin aback. "I guess this'll have tae be as explosive as it gets." He dropped to one knee and opened the box, holding it out to Sniper. Inside of it rested a gold ring inset with a sapphire surrounded by small diamond chips in the shape of a crosshairs. "Mickey, I've made a right mess o' everythin', and I never meant tae scare ye like that. If ye can forgive me, I promise tae do everythin' in me power tae never make ye fear, or cry, or hurt again. I promise tae fill yer life with nae but joy and love, like ye deserve. I'd give ye everythin', anythin', the whole bloody world if ye wanted. Ye deserve it all and more. And I hope I'm worth deservin' ye." He took the ring from the box, and slipped it onto Sniper's finger. "Michael Mundy, will ye marry me?"

A relieved sound left Sniper, somewhere between a sob and a laugh, and for a second time, he crashed into Demoman, bowling him over into the sodden muck of blue and red gravel. He kissed him giddily, gleeful laughter bubbling in his throat, and when he could finally bring himself to stop kissing him long enough to speak, he pressed his forehead to Demoman's, looking into his eye. "Yes. Of course I will you beautiful idiot!"

Demoman crushed Sniper to his chest with a kiss, tears beginning to run from his eye.

"HE SAID YES!" Soldier whooped, and the team let out a cheer.

[palushiemalis-fr]

Write My Dragon's Lore -- Results!

@protoformx personality: outgoing and loud

@the-odd-aardvadillo occupation: biologist or whatever form of science fits into your lore

@hystericblue aspiration: flying under her own power, she's not staying on the ground

@revolupine hobbies: puzzles and cosplay.

@scrubbythebubble dislikes : tight spaces, the cold, authority

“YOU.” 

Seep felt as if the Sandsurge’s hard stare had shot straight into his face. He felt winded from the impact. He wasn’t often put into a position where he was on the back foot, let alone on first entering a room.

“Me?” He managed as she sprinted over to him, drawing her neck up as high as she could to meet him.

“You are the resident engineer, yes?” She tilted one eye at him to peer into the reflection of his lenses.

Seep craned his neck back and tried to keep her stare, feeling bewildered at the hostility seeing as she was the one to invite him over.

“Yes, I mean, I’m not the only one but I— who are you anyway?”

“Cesarie.” She flicked the sail of her tail boisterously, “I am a bio-engineer. I needed to be polite and say hi and ask some questions and all that, good clan you got here. But then again I’m used to working in really cramped, nasty conditions, at least this place has heating. I’ve seen some real blighters when it comes to labs…” 

She began to ramble about her journey over from the Lightning territory. Seep couldn’t quite keep up and let his mind wander, inspecting what she had done with her chamber.

Cesarie’s den pulsed with an organic, ethereal green light. He squinted through his goggles to see delicate glow worms threaded from the cave ceiling, softly wriggling from their silken strands. The slime molds and algae that practically crawled on every surface let off their own glowing hues. There were terrariums and specimen jars lined up along racks and racks of shelving. Illuminated roaches and isopods trundled about in dimly lit habitats, a swarm of fireflies bonked persistently against the glass of their temporary tank.

Her work table was another matter altogether; an unfinished game of chess sat between microscopes, scapels and scientific paraphernalia with which he wasn’t familiar. For a biologist, she kept a lot of brass fittings, bolts and screws about the place. The air smelt green but was tinged with metal polish and lubricant. He’d always appreciated the smell.

In the middle of the chaos was a huge bell jar filled with a soup of green and blue ooze. Or, what he believed was ooze. It certainly seemed lively, it let out a belch of bubbles which popped vigorously. This caught Cesarie’s attention.

She marched over, knocking some spanners and tools onto the floor on the way, and slammed a fist on the worktop.

“SIMMER DOWN.” She barked.

The ooze let out a flatulent ‘glop’ and settled down.

Seep chuckled, he could relate. His own experimental subjects could be just as cheeky.

“This is my prototype.” She grunted, rolling the jar onto its side and tweaking the instruments and strappings attached to it. “I call her ALGEE. Aviator Levitator Green Energy … something something… I’m workin’ on it.”

“Ehh, the acronym’s usually more important than the words used to put it together.” He shrugged, “But uh, what does it mean? What is that thing?”

After bashing a few loose screws into place she heaped the jar onto her back (Seep watched her ‘percussive adjustments’ approvingly, making note to brush up on his own technique.) She pulled the arm straps tight and the jar sat snuggly between her two sails. She placed on an aviator’s cap and pinged the goggles to her forehead.

“Stand back.”

Seep coiled himself back into what little room the lab had for his huge, winding body.

Cesarie yanked a toggle on her strap and the jar hummed and sizzled with light. The glass shook violently and it began to lift of its own accord, pulling her up like a hot air balloon. She hung precariously in the air, her legs kicking and her tail wagging excitedly.

Seep laughed in amazement, “Impressive! And this is the prototype? This could be a paradigm shift in–”

There was a crack and a hiss and a whizz all at once.

Cesarie dropped like a stone and hit the ground with a winded “Oof.”

Cesarie picked up her jar of gooey, glowy ALGEE and juggled it from one paw to another. It must have been hot from the intense chemical reactions. There was a large crack down the size. 

“As I said. Prototype. But one day, this baby’ll fly all the way to the dunes and back. That foreman will be sorry he ever fired me for collecting algal samples on the job…” She began to rant and ramble once again, Seep sat himself down for the long haul.

[starcolonelkatrinamoon]

Worn Hopes and Armored Plated Dreams

The Scrapplemech had a stupid name, Katrina had decided. No quadmech, covered in salvage arms, fluid support systems, and lifting booms should be named “Scrapplemech”. She hated everything about the name. She hated that Tisha named it that. It was terrible that she got name it for it was her creation. What an awful machine.

And yet here it was, lifting her beloved’s decapitated Phoenix Hawk IIC onto a heavy recovery truck. The six Hammerheads of the trinary’s command star stood vigil over the salvage teams as they moved mechs onto recovery vehicles for towing back to the FOB. It didn’t matter if they were enemy or ally. Both would serve their purposes for what they would need in the coming days.

That did not stop the creeping feeling that crawled down her spine from watching eight of her own mechs get pulled back to the FOB.

______________________________________________________________

The Scrapplemech towered over the rest of the CSJ’s camp as it stood over the area in the middle they had cleared for refit and rearm. It looked like an ominous portent, all of its gantries and support structures extended out into the air, appearing like an industrial spider’s web intent on catching any pesky components. The Phoenix Hawk IIC had been laid out next to it, under one of the primary lift arms that could do major refit work.

Objectively speaking, the Phoenix Hawk IIC was not in bad condition. Katrina hated to think about it too hard, but this was fixable. And quickly as well. Quietly she muttered curses to herself as she hooked up lift gear to the damaged LB 10-X and prepared to lift it out of the torso module that it was seated in, stepping back a foot or so and throwing at thumbs up to Tisha so that she could engage the lift. The humming whine of the crane filled the air as its electric winch engaged, tugging the weapon up and out of its cradle.

The retractable blade that had damaged it had been removed prior, but the damage it left was clearly visible now that the cannon was out of the mech. The blade had mangled the breech and part of the feed mechanism. This gun would need significant rework if it was to be made operational again. For now it would get stuck in the rebuild pile.

Katrina sighed as she directed the boom, aiding Tisha in getting the 10 ton weapon where it needed to go. She had to think about what she was going to rebuild this with.

Maybe… maybe the Blakists needed a bit of a fright. She had some old refit plans floating around for the Phoenix Hawk IIC 7 for if they ever needed to do shock and awe ops. Perhaps those would suit. They had the RAC-2s available as well as the AP Gauss Rifles, and all of their spare parts had been flown down with the Scrapplemech.

Yeah. That idea would work. Maybe the Hammerheads too, if she could get the pilots on board. They likely would be. Disconnecting the lift harness from the landed LB 10-X, Katrina settled herself in for a hard day’s work.

@karriethemechtech

[reactor-four-official]

Rare photographs of one of the bathyscaphes used to lower liquidators into the ruins of Reactor 4.

The Sarcophagus of Chernobyl Unit 4 was constructed on top of the ruined reactor hall, using the existing structure as support for its massive weight. Engineers were unsure at the beginning of construction if the building could even support parts of the Sarcophagus. Initially, engineers could only find locations to place the prefabricated pieces of the Sarcophagus using photos taken from the helicopters above the reactor building. On a few occasions, men were sent to scout out potential locations for these structures on foot via passages in the plant. This proved extremely dangerous, and so another solution was brought forward by NIKIMT, a Soviet think tank responsible for several other innovative solutions within the zone; a twenty-one ton lead box with a single leaded glass window 30 centimeters thick. It was equipped with air filters that filtered the air to nearly 100% purity, allowing liquidators to work around the reactor for several hours at a time. Designed to accommodate up to four men, they were affectionately named the batiskaf, or bathyscaphe. These monstrous boxes would be attached to the hook of one of the cranes operating at the site by a short cable and lowered into the reactor hall. This allowed engineers to more closely assess the condition of the structure and find locations to rest the massive beams that held the roof of the Sarcophagus up. Those who worked in the bathyscaphe, known jokingly as “Cosmonauts”, communicated with the operators of the cranes via radio. Work could also be conducted through ports in the walls, through which a manipulator arm could be extended. It was also used on the rare occasion that welding was required on the Sarcophagus. Without this equipment, the Sarcophagus would not have been completed safely. It was also used after the completion of the Sarcophagus to monitor the condition of the construction and reactor hall, until it was retired in 1988 due to instability issues.

Once again, my apologies for low quality images. A few of these images are so rare that I could only find them in one place.

[Image descriptions: Top left image: The bathyscaphe is a large white metal box about seven feet tall, four feet long, and four feet deep, with a single square window. It has several lifting cables attached to its roof and several pipes jut out from it pointing towards the ground to keep it from falling over.

Top right image: they bathyscaphe in ‘flight’.

Bottom left image: The bathyscaphe from another angle, showing the single porthole.

Bottom right image: This is a photo of the bathyschape’s interior. Two manipulator arms sit below the window, and a small stool is welded onto the floor where an operator could sit.

PS feedback on my image descriptions is very much appreciated and helpful. I am new to this, but I think everyone has the right to learn and experience history and if you have any suggestions or comments on how to improve my descriptions please do not hesitate to reach out! I am more than happy to provide more detailed image descriptions as well upon request. Many thanks for your interest!]

[archupnet]

Manual Craftsmanship vs. Modern Machinery: The Role of Cranes in Accelerating Construction and Their Environmental Consequences Introduction The evolution of construction techniques has always been a balance between human ingenuity and technological advancement. As we trace back from the grandeur of ancient monuments to the modern skyscrapers that punctuate our cityscapes today, there is a compelling contrast between traditional, labor-intensive craftsmanship and mechanized construction methods. One particularly transformative element in this story is the crane—a marvel that has reshaped the pace, scale, and impact of architectural development over time. However, while cranes have undeniably contributed to construction efficiency, they also carry environmental costs that cannot be overlooked. This article will explore the juxtaposition of traditional manual methods versus crane-aided construction, while examining how cranes have played a pivotal role in accelerating urban growth—and with it, carbon emissions. Traditional Manual Construction in Heritage Sites Before delving into the age of cranes, it's crucial to appreciate the richness of traditional construction techniques. Manual craftsmanship, relying heavily on human strength and dexterity, has been at the heart of building great architectural marvels for centuries. The Great Pyramid of Giza—constructed around 2580 BC—is estimated to have employed 100,000 workers who meticulously carried, lifted, and placed 2.3 million stone blocks weighing on average 2.5 tons each. The scale of such manual labor speaks volumes about the commitment and skill of ancient builders. Similarly, in Machu Picchu, the Incas achieved extraordinary feats of construction without the use of cranes or modern equipment. The site, built in the 15th century, is perched at an altitude of 2,430 meters in the Andes Mountains. Massive stone blocks were transported and positioned by hand, using a combination of log rollers, ramps, and sheer determination. These traditional methods, while laborious and time-consuming, were often highly sustainable—consuming no fossil fuels and thus leaving a minimal carbon footprint. However, they also meant that large-scale construction projects could take decades, if not centuries, to complete. The laborers themselves were an indispensable resource, often at the cost of immense physical exertion and peril. The Age of Cranes: Efficiency vs. Environmental Impact The advent of cranes during the Industrial Revolution dramatically transformed construction practices. Initially powered by steam engines, cranes made it possible to lift and position materials more efficiently, significantly reducing construction timelines. By the 1950s, hydraulic cranes became the industry standard, allowing for the construction of massive skyscrapers and bridges at an unprecedented pace. It is no exaggeration to say that the rise of modern urban centers was made possible by the capabilities provided by cranes. In 2024, cranes are responsible for building the vertical cities we live in today, allowing for high-density living and urban expansion. For instance, Dubai, which has one of the highest concentrations of tower cranes in the world—estimated at 25% of the global crane supply during its construction boom—saw a transformation from a modest city into a metropolis filled with high-rises within just a few decades. Yet, this efficiency comes at a significant cost to the environment. Cranes are instrumental in constructing high-rise buildings, which inherently require more energy both during construction and throughout their operational lifetime. Tall buildings, by design, necessitate complex heating, ventilation, and air conditioning (HVAC) systems, all of which contribute to increased carbon emissions. A study by the Council on Tall Buildings and Urban Habitat (CTBUH) found that buildings over 200 meters tall are 20% more energy-intensive compared to low-rise buildings of equivalent floor area. Moreover, the widespread use of cranes has contributed indirectly to urban densification, which has its own environmental repercussions. Densely packed high-rises increase the urban heat island effect, leading to higher ambient temperatures and, consequently, increased energy consumption. This phenomenon has been well-documented in cities like New York, where urban temperatures can be 3-5°C higher than surrounding rural areas due to concentrated construction. Carbon Emissions and the Construction Boom The role of cranes in facilitating construction also ties into broader conversations about carbon emissions from the built environment. According to the World Green Building Council, the construction sector is responsible for nearly 40% of global carbon emissions, with 11% coming from the embodied carbon of construction materials such as concrete and steel. The rapid construction facilitated by cranes often overlooks sustainable material choices in favor of speed and scale. Consider China, a country that has undergone rapid urbanization over the last three decades. In 2011, China produced more cement in two years than the United States did throughout the entire 20th century. Much of this construction was made possible by cranes, which enabled the swift erection of residential and commercial high-rises to accommodate the growing urban population. However, this came with a massive carbon cost, contributing significantly to the global carbon footprint. Balancing Tradition and Modernity While cranes have undeniably revolutionized construction efficiency, there is growing recognition of the need to balance modern methods with environmentally sustainable practices. Traditional manual methods, though impractical for modern large-scale projects, offer insights into how low-impact construction can be achieved. There is a movement towards hybrid approaches—incorporating both traditional craftsmanship and modern machinery—to create buildings that are not only structurally sound but also environmentally conscious. For example, in Bavaria, Germany, a recent project utilized local timber, manually finished by local craftsmen, combined with crane technology for precision placement. The result was a structure that was both ecologically responsible and efficient to construct. Conclusion The evolution from manual labor to crane-aided construction is a testament to human innovation and ambition. Cranes have allowed cities to grow vertically, meeting the demands of an ever-increasing urban population. However, the environmental costs ranging from increased carbon emissions to the urban heat island effect demand a reconsideration of how we build our cities moving forward. As we look to the future, the challenge lies in harnessing the efficiency of cranes while minimizing their environmental impact. The integration of renewable energy, low-carbon materials, and innovative construction techniques will be essential in mitigating the carbon footprint of the construction industry. By learning from the past and adapting to present needs, architects and engineers can ensure that the structures we build today do not compromise the world of tomorrow. https://archup.net/the-broader-beyond-the-11-concrete-carbon-footprint/ Read the full article

[ironbirdbouquet]

Why Choose Gray's Tree & Crane for Professional Tree Trimming Services Near Me in Evansville, IN?

Choose Gray's Tree & Crane for professional tree trimming services in Evansville, IN, due to our skilled team and commitment to safety. We deliver efficient, high-quality results tailored to your needs.

Maintaining the health and appearance of your trees is vital for your property. Gray's Tree & Crane offers professional tree trimming services that enhance aesthetics while promoting tree vitality. Our experienced team understands the unique requirements of different tree species.

We use advanced techniques and equipment to ensure precise cuts that foster growth and prevent disease. Serving Evansville, IN, we prioritize safety and customer satisfaction. Choosing us means you’ll receive reliable service from professionals who care about your landscape. Trust Gray's Tree & Crane to keep your trees looking their best while maintaining a safe environment for your family and visitors.

Introduction To Gray's Tree & Crane

Gray's Tree & Crane is your top choice for tree trimming services in Evansville, IN. With years of experience, this local company understands the unique needs of its community. Their skilled team ensures trees are healthy and safe.

Local Expertise In Evansville, In

Gray's Tree & Crane stands out for its local knowledge. Their team knows the local tree species and their care requirements. Here are some reasons to choose them:

Familiarity with Local Conditions: Understanding weather patterns helps in tree care.

Community Commitment: They prioritize the needs of Evansville residents.

Quick Response Times: Local teams can respond promptly to your needs.

Commitment To Safety

Safety is a top priority at Gray's Tree & Crane. Their team follows strict safety protocols. This ensures the safety of your property and their workers.

Key safety measures include:

Proper Equipment: They use the latest tools for tree trimming.

Trained Professionals: Staff undergoes regular safety training.

Insurance Coverage: They carry full insurance for peace of mind.

Choosing Gray's Tree & Crane means choosing safety and expertise. Trust them for all your tree trimming needs in Evansville.

Professional Tree Trimming Services in Evansville, IN

Choosing Gray's Tree & Crane for tree trimming ensures expert care for your trees. Our professional services enhance the health and beauty of your landscape. Proper trimming promotes growth and prevents damage. Trust our experienced team for quality results.

Benefits Of Professional Trimming

Professional tree trimming offers many advantages:

Healthier Trees: Remove dead or diseased branches.

Improved Safety: Prevent falling branches during storms.

Enhanced Appearance: Shape trees for a neat look.

Better Growth: Encourage healthy growth patterns.

Increased Property Value: Well-maintained trees boost curb appeal.

Types Of Trimming Services Offered

At Gray's Tree & Crane, we provide a range of trimming services:

Service Type

Description

Pruning

Selective removal of branches to improve tree structure.

Thinning

Reducing branch density for better light and air flow.

Shaping

Creating a specific shape for aesthetic appeal.

Deadwooding

Removing dead branches to prevent decay.

Canopy Raising

Lifting lower branches for clearance.

Choose Gray's Tree & Crane for expert trimming services. Our skilled team uses the right techniques for each tree type. Enjoy healthier, safer, and more beautiful trees in your yard.

The Importance Of Choosing Experts

Professional Tree Trimming Services in Evansville, IN

Choosing experts for tree trimming is crucial for your trees' health. Professionals understand the right techniques and tools for effective trimming. They ensure safety and longevity for both your trees and property. Gray's Tree & Crane offers reliable services in Evansville, IN. Their expertise guarantees quality results.

Risks Of Diy Trimming

Many homeowners consider DIY tree trimming. However, this can lead to serious risks:

Injury: Climbing trees or using heavy equipment can cause accidents.

Improper Cuts: Wrong cuts can damage trees and hinder growth.

Property Damage: Falling branches can harm your home or car.

Pest Infestation: Poor trimming can invite pests and diseases.

Hiring experts like Gray's Tree & Crane avoids these dangers. They have the skills to trim safely.

Long-term Health Of Your Trees

Healthy trees require proper care. Expert tree trimming promotes growth and vitality. Here are key benefits:

Benefit

Description

Improved Airflow

Proper trimming allows sunlight and air to reach all parts.

Enhanced Growth

Experts remove dead or diseased branches, encouraging new growth.

Structural Integrity

Correct trimming maintains the tree's shape and strength.

Increased Aesthetics

Well-trimmed trees enhance your landscape's beauty.

Regular professional trimming keeps your trees strong and healthy. Trust Gray's Tree & Crane for expert care.

Gray's Tree & Crane's Qualified Team

Choosing Gray's Tree & Crane for tree trimming means choosing expertise. Their qualified team stands out in Evansville, IN. They are dedicated, skilled, and ready to serve your tree care needs.

Certifications And Training

The team at Gray's Tree & Crane holds important certifications. These show their commitment to safety and quality. Some of these include:

ISA Certified Arborists: Experts in tree care.

Tree Risk Assessment Qualification (TRAQ): Identifies potential hazards.

OSHA Compliance Training: Ensures safe work practices.

Training programs keep the team updated. They learn the best techniques and tools for tree trimming. This guarantees a job done right every time.

Years Of Experience

Experience matters in tree trimming. Gray's Tree & Crane has over 7 years in the industry. Their team has handled various projects, big and small. Here’s what their experience brings:

Type of Experience

Details

Residential Projects

Over 1,000 satisfied homeowners.

Commercial Projects

Numerous partnerships with local businesses.

Emergency Services

Quick response to storm damage.

Years of experience mean trust and reliability. Clients feel confident choosing Gray's Tree & Crane for all their tree trimming needs.

Advanced Equipment And Techniques

Choosing Gray's Tree & Crane ensures top-notch tree trimming services. Our advanced equipment and innovative techniques guarantee safety and precision. We focus on quality to enhance your landscape.

State-of-the-art Machinery

Our team uses the latest machinery for tree trimming. This equipment offers several benefits:

Efficiency: Reduces time for each job.

Safety: Lowers risks during operations.

Precision: Ensures accurate cuts.

We invest in high-quality tools. This commitment enhances our service quality. Our machinery includes:

Equipment Type

Purpose

Chippers

Shred branches for easy disposal.

Chainsaws

Make clean cuts on large branches.

Stump Grinders

Remove tree stumps effectively.

Innovative Trimming Methods

Gray's Tree & Crane employs innovative trimming methods. These techniques ensure healthy trees and stunning landscapes.

Selective Pruning: Focuses on specific branches.

Thinning: Reduces foliage for better sunlight.

Deadwooding: Removes dead branches.

Our experts assess each tree's needs. Customized methods lead to healthier growth. Professional techniques save time and enhance results.

Read more.

[nmagroup]

The Role and Uses of Variable Frequency Drives (VFDs) in Modern Industry

In today’s fast-evolving industrial world, the need for efficiency and precision is greater than ever. A tool that has become essential in achieving these goals is the variable frequency drive (VFD). This powerful technology helps industries across the globe improve their operations by controlling the speed and torque of electric motors. Whether you’re working in manufacturing, agriculture, or any industry that relies on machinery, the benefits of using a variable frequency drive are numerous and transformative. In this blog, we will explore the various uses of VFDs, highlighting their advantages and why they are so critical in modern industry.

What is a Variable Frequency Drive (VFD)?

A variable frequency drive is an electronic device that adjusts the speed and torque of an electric motor by regulating the frequency and voltage of the electrical power supplied to it. In simple terms, it allows you to control how fast or slow a motor runs. Without a VFD, most electric motors would run at a constant speed determined by the frequency of the power supply, which can sometimes be inefficient.

Why Use a Variable Frequency Drive?

The primary reason for using a variable frequency drive is to improve energy efficiency. Motors typically consume a significant amount of electricity, and when they operate at full speed all the time, they can waste a lot of energy. A VFD helps reduce this waste by controlling the motor’s speed based on the actual demand, which can lead to significant cost savings in energy consumption.

Additionally, VFDs provide smoother start-ups and stop operations, reducing the wear and tear on mechanical components. This results in longer-lasting equipment and reduced maintenance costs, making the variable frequency drive a smart investment for businesses looking to improve productivity and reduce operational costs.

Common Applications of VFDs

HVAC Systems

Heating, ventilation, and air conditioning (HVAC) systems are one of the most common uses of the variable frequency drive. By regulating the speed of fans, pumps, and compressors, a VFD can ensure that these systems only work as hard as needed. For example, instead of running a fan at full speed continuously, the VFD can slow it down during times of lower demand, leading to reduced energy consumption and lower utility bills.

Pumps and Fans

Another critical application of the variable frequency drive is in the operation of pumps and fans. In industries where fluid flow or air circulation is essential, like water treatment plants or mining, VFDs are used to regulate the speed of pumps and fans to match process demands. This not only saves energy but also provides better control of the process, leading to improved operational efficiency.

Conveyor Systems

Conveyor belts used in factories, warehouses, and distribution centers are often equipped with a variable frequency drive. By adjusting the speed of the conveyor system, a VFD allows for precise control, reducing the risk of product damage and improving the coordination of operations. This is particularly useful in assembly lines, where the speed of the production process needs to be carefully synchronized.

Compressors

Compressors, which are used in various applications such as refrigeration and air compression, also benefit greatly from the use of VFDs. By controlling the motor speed, a variable frequency drive ensures that the compressor works at the optimal speed for the required pressure. This reduces wear on the compressor and lowers energy consumption, making the operation more cost-effective.

Cranes and Hoists

In industries that require the movement of heavy loads, such as construction and manufacturing, cranes and hoists are essential. With a variable frequency drive, the lifting and lowering speeds of these machines can be adjusted with precision. This not only makes the operation smoother but also enhances safety by reducing the chances of sudden jerks or rapid movements that could lead to accidents.

Industrial Mixers

In the food, chemical, and pharmaceutical industries, industrial mixers are commonly used to blend ingredients or materials. A variable frequency drive allows operators to control the mixing speed based on the type of material and the desired consistency. This level of control ensures better product quality and reduces the risk of overmixing or undermixing.

Benefits of Using a Variable Frequency Drive

Energy Efficiency: One of the biggest advantages of a variable frequency drive is its ability to improve energy efficiency. By adjusting motor speed to match the load demand, VFDs can reduce energy consumption by up to 50%, depending on the application.

Extended Equipment Lifespan: VFDs help reduce mechanical stress on motors by providing a controlled start and stop. This results in less wear and tear, leading to longer equipment life and fewer breakdowns.

Improved Process Control: A variable frequency drive offers precise control over motor speed, making it easier to fine-tune processes. This is particularly beneficial in applications like conveyor systems or mixers, where small speed adjustments can have a big impact on the quality of the output.

Lower Maintenance Costs: Since VFDs reduce the strain on motors and mechanical systems, there is less need for frequent maintenance. This translates into cost savings over time as equipment requires fewer repairs and replacements.

Conclusion

In conclusion, the variable frequency drive is an indispensable tool in modern industrial settings. From improving energy efficiency and reducing operational costs to enhancing process control and extending equipment life, the benefits of VFDs are far-reaching. Industries that rely on electric motors—whether in HVAC systems, conveyor belts, pumps, or compressors—can significantly improve their operations by adopting this technology. By integrating VFDs into their systems, businesses can achieve greater efficiency, lower costs, and contribute to a more sustainable future. Originally Published Here:-

[shattered-pieces]

The ISS team, accompanied by prosecutors, inspected the torture chambers set up by the Russian military during the occupation of Kharkiv Oblast

https://www.gp.gov.ua/ua/posts/komanda-mks-v-suprovodi-prokuroriv-oglyanula-kativni-oblastovani-rosiiskimi-viiskovimi-pid-cas-okupaciyi-xarkivshhini

The head of investigations of international crimes committed in Ukraine from the Office of the Prosecutor of the International Criminal Court, Brenda J. Hollis, together with her team and the head of the Department for Combating Crimes Committed in the Conditions of Armed Conflict, of the Office of the Prosecutor General, Yury Belousov, inspected the torture chambers installed by the Russian military during the occupation of Kharkiv region.

Spartak Borysenko, the head of the Department for Combating Crimes Committed in the Conditions of the Armed Conflict of the Kharkiv Regional Prosecutor's Office, said that prosecutors together with other law enforcement officers discovered 25 torture chambers in the Kharkiv region. The collected evidence indicates that the detainees were subjected to torture, physical, psychological and sexual violence. People were hardly fed and given only technical water to drink. They sawed their teeth, tied their wrists, and with the help of a crane with a metal hook, lifted people's bodies into the air, pulled out nails, applied electricity that was supplied through wires tied to various parts of the body, and beat them with rubber sticks.

[wiseluminarywolf]

Exploring Different Types of Portable Toilets Available Today

Introduction

When it comes to outdoor events, construction sites, or any situation where traditional bathroom facilities are unavailable, portable toilets—often affectionately referred to as "porta potties"—come to the rescue. These essential units have evolved significantly over the years, offering various options tailored to different needs and contexts. In this comprehensive guide, we will explore the various types of portable toilets available today, delve into their features and considerations, and address relevant regulations like OSHA guidelines.

So whether you’re planning a big event or managing a construction site, understanding your options can make all the difference in ensuring comfort and compliance. Let’s dive right in!

What are the Different Types of Portable Toilets?

Portable toilets come in various styles, each designed for specific situations. Below is an overview of some common types:

1. Standard Portable Toilets

Standard portable toilets are what most people think of when they hear "porta potty." These units typically include:

A toilet seat A privacy door Basic sanitation features

They are lightweight and can be placed almost anywhere, events making them ideal for outdoor festivals or construction sites.

2. ADA-Compliant Portable Toilets

Accessibility is crucial when providing facilities for events or jobsites. ADA-compliant units offer:

Wider doors More spacious interiors Handrails for support

These toilets ensure that individuals with disabilities have safe and comfortable access.

3. High-Rise Portable Toilets

For urban construction projects involving multi-story buildings, high-rise portable toilets are essential. They feature:

Elevated designs Heavy-duty materials

These units can withstand being lifted to higher floors via cranes while ensuring easy access.

4. Flushing Portable Toilets

Unlike standard models that use chemicals to manage waste, flushing portable toilets use water for a more hygienic experience. Features include:

A small reservoir for flushing Better odor control

They work well at events where user comfort is a priority.

5. Luxury Portable Restrooms

For upscale events such as weddings or corporate gatherings, luxury restrooms offer a more refined experience with amenities like:

Air conditioning Running water sinks Full-length mirrors

These units elevate guest experiences without compromising hygiene.

6. Chemical Toilets

Chemical toilets utilize special chemicals to break down waste material and control odors effectively. They are prevalent at remote locations where waste disposal systems may not be feasible.

What Are the OSHA Rules for Porta Potties?

Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA) has waste disposal established guidelines that govern restroom facilities on job sites to ensure worker safety and health.

Key OSHA Regulations:

Minimum Number of Toilets: For every 20 employees on a job site, one toilet is required; however, if there are fewer than

[4x4enginespecialists]

How Does The Installation Process Work For A Reconditioned Range Rover 2.0 Engine?

Installing a reconditioned Range Rover 2.0 engine can be a cost-effective and reliable solution to enhance the performance and lifespan of your vehicle. This comprehensive guide will walk you through the entire installation process, ensuring that each step is executed with precision and care. By following this step-by-step guide, you'll understand the intricacies involved in installing a reconditioned engine, making the process seamless and efficient. Whether you're a seasoned mechanic or a DIY enthusiast, this article will provide the detailed information you need to complete the installation successfully.

Preparing for the Installation: Tools and Workspace

Before starting the installation process, it's crucial to prepare your workspace and gather all necessary tools. A well-organized and clean workspace ensures safety and efficiency. Essential tools for this job include a socket set, wrenches, screwdrivers, a hoist or engine crane, and safety gear such as gloves and goggles. Additionally, having a repair manual specific to your Range Rover model is highly beneficial. The manual provides detailed information on torque specifications and the sequence for removing and installing components. Clear your workspace of any clutter and ensure you have sufficient lighting to avoid any mishaps during the installation process.

Removing the Old Engine: Step-by-Step Procedure

Removing the old engine from your Range Rover requires careful planning and execution. Begin by disconnecting the battery to prevent any electrical accidents. Drain all fluids, including oil, coolant, and transmission fluid. Remove the air intake system, exhaust manifold, and any other components obstructing access to the engine. Disconnect the wiring harnesses, fuel lines, and cooling hoses. Using the hoist or engine crane, carefully lift the engine out of the vehicle, ensuring all connections are free and nothing is damaged. Labeling each part and connection during removal can significantly simplify the reinstallation process.

Inspecting and Preparing the Reconditioned Engine

Once the old engine is removed, inspect the reconditioned range rover engine thoroughly before installation. Check for any visible damage, leaks, or loose components. Ensure that all gaskets and seals are in good condition. It's advisable to replace any worn-out parts, such as the timing belt or water pump, before installing the engine. Clean the engine bay thoroughly to remove any debris or old oil that could affect the new engine's performance. This inspection and preparation step is crucial to ensure the longevity and reliability of the reconditioned engine.

Installing the Reconditioned Engine: Mounting and Aligning

With the reconditioned engine ready, the installation process begins by carefully lowering it into the engine bay using the hoist or crane. Align the engine mounts with the chassis mounts and secure them with bolts. It's essential to follow the torque specifications provided in the repair manual to avoid any issues. Once the engine is securely mounted, reconnect the wiring harnesses, fuel lines, and cooling hoses. Ensure all connections are tight and free of leaks. Reattach the air intake system, exhaust manifold, and any other components removed during the old engine removal.

Reconnecting and Testing Electrical Systems

After the mechanical installation, focus on reconnecting the electrical systems. Reconnect the battery and check all electrical connections, including the sensors and control modules. Ensure that all connectors are properly seated and free of corrosion. Use a diagnostic tool to check for any error codes and clear them if necessary. Start the engine and monitor it for any abnormal sounds or vibrations. Pay close attention to the engine's performance during the initial start-up, and address any issues promptly. Properly functioning electrical systems are critical to the engine's overall performance and reliability.

Refilling Fluids and Bleeding the Cooling System

Refilling the Reconditioned Range Rover 2.0 Engine with the appropriate fluids is a crucial step in the installation process. Start by adding the recommended engine oil, coolant, and transmission fluid. It's essential to use fluids that meet the manufacturer's specifications to ensure optimal performance. Once all fluids are refilled, bleed the cooling system to remove any air pockets that could cause overheating. This involves running the engine with the radiator cap off and allowing the coolant to circulate, topping it off as needed. Check for any leaks and ensure that all fluid levels are correct before proceeding.

Performing a Comprehensive Engine Check

With the engine installed and fluids refilled, conduct a comprehensive check to ensure everything is functioning correctly. Start the engine and let it idle, listening for any unusual noises. Check for leaks around all connections and seals. Monitor the engine's temperature and oil pressure to ensure they are within normal ranges. Take the vehicle for a short test drive, paying attention to the engine's performance, acceleration, and response. After the test drive, recheck all fluid levels and inspect the engine bay for any signs of leaks or issues. This thorough check ensures that the installation has been successful and the engine is operating optimally.

Post-Installation Maintenance Tips

Maintaining your newly installed reconditioned engine is vital for its longevity and performance. Regularly check the engine oil and coolant levels, and change them according to the manufacturer's recommendations. Keep an eye on the engine's performance and address any issues promptly to avoid major problems. Regularly inspect the engine bay for any signs of leaks or worn-out components. Following a consistent maintenance schedule will ensure that your reconditioned engine remains reliable and performs well for years to come.

Conclusion

Installing a reconditioned Range Rover 2.0 engine involves meticulous preparation, precise execution, and thorough post-installation checks. By following this step-by-step guide, you can ensure a successful installation and enjoy the benefits of a cost-effective and reliable engine. Proper maintenance and regular checks will further enhance the engine's performance and longevity, providing a smooth and enjoyable driving experience. Whether you are a professional mechanic or a dedicated DIY enthusiast, this comprehensive guide will equip you with the knowledge and confidence to install a reconditioned engine in your Range Rover successfully. Read the full article

[shakibansar3]

Advancements in Crane Technology: Enhancing Safety and Efficiency in Modern Construction

In the realm of modern construction, cranes stand as the epitome of power and precision. These towering machines have been instrumental in shaping skylines, erecting bridges, and facilitating large-scale infrastructure projects. As the demands of construction projects have grown, so too has the technology driving crane innovation. This article explores the latest advancements in crane technology, highlighting how these developments are enhancing safety and efficiency in the construction industry.

Introduction to Crane Technology

Cranes have been used for centuries, evolving from simple mechanical devices to complex, computer-aided machines. Today, they are indispensable in construction and capable of lifting and moving heavy materials with ease and precision. The core components of a crane include the boom, jib, counterweights, and various hoisting mechanisms. Each type of crane, whether mobile, tower, or overhead, is designed for specific applications, contributing to the versatility and effectiveness of construction operations.

Advanced Control Systems

One of the most significant advancements in crane technology is the integration of advanced control systems. Modern cranes are equipped with sophisticated computer systems that enhance precision and control. These systems include:

Digital Load Indicators: These devices provide real-time data on load weights and lifting capacities, ensuring that operators do not exceed safe limits.

Automated Crane Controls: Automation has revolutionized crane operations by reducing human error and increasing efficiency. Automated systems can manage complex lifting tasks, adjusting for factors like wind speed and load sway.

Remote Operation: Cranes can now be operated remotely, allowing operators to control the machine from a safe distance. This technology enhances safety, especially in hazardous environments, by keeping operators out of harm's way.

Telematics and IoT Integration

The Internet of Things (IoT) has made significant inroads into crane technology. Telematics systems enable real-time monitoring of crane operations, providing data on usage patterns, maintenance needs, and potential issues. Key benefits include:

Predictive Maintenance: IoT-enabled cranes can predict maintenance needs before they become critical, reducing downtime and extending the lifespan of the equipment.

Enhanced Fleet Management: For companies managing multiple cranes, telematics systems offer a centralized platform to monitor and control their fleet, improving logistical efficiency and reducing operational costs.

Enhanced Safety Features

Safety is paramount in crane operations, and recent technological advancements have focused heavily on minimizing risks. Innovations include:

Anti-Collision Systems: These systems use sensors and algorithms to detect potential collisions with other cranes or structures, automatically stopping the crane if a collision is imminent.

Load Moment Indicators (LMIs): LMIs prevent overloading by calculating the moment force and alerting the operator if the load exceeds safe parameters.

Stability Control: Modern cranes are equipped with stability control systems that adjust the machine's balance in real time, preventing tipping and ensuring stable operations even under challenging conditions.

Electric and Hybrid Cranes

With a growing emphasis on sustainability, the construction industry is seeing a shift towards electric and hybrid cranes. These machines offer several advantages over traditional diesel-powered cranes:

Reduced Emissions: Electric and hybrid cranes produce fewer emissions, contributing to a lower carbon footprint and improved air quality on construction sites.

Lower Operating Costs: While the initial investment may be higher, electric cranes often have lower operating costs due to reduced fuel consumption and maintenance needs.

Quieter Operation: Electric motors are significantly quieter than diesel engines, reducing noise pollution and creating a more pleasant working environment.

Energy Recovery Systems

Energy recovery systems are another innovative feature of modern cranes. These systems capture and store energy generated during braking or lowering loads, which can then be reused for lifting operations. This not only enhances energy efficiency but also reduces wear and tear on the crane's components.

Tower Cranes in Urban Construction

Tower cranes are a staple in urban construction, particularly for high-rise buildings. Recent advancements in tower crane technology include:

Self-Climbing Mechanisms: These allow the crane to "grow" with the building, adding sections to the mast as construction progresses, thereby reducing downtime and increasing efficiency.

High-Speed Hoisting: Improved motors and control systems enable faster lifting speeds, which is crucial for projects with tight deadlines.

Mobile Cranes in Infrastructure Projects

Mobile cranes offer versatility and mobility, making them ideal for infrastructure projects such as bridges and highways. Innovations in mobile crane technology include:

All-Terrain Capabilities: Modern mobile cranes are designed to operate on various terrains, from rough construction sites to smooth urban roads, enhancing their utility across different projects.

Telescopic Booms: Telescopic booms provide greater reach and flexibility, allowing mobile cranes to lift loads at significant heights and distances.

Overhead Cranes in Industrial Settings

Overhead cranes are commonly used in industrial environments such as factories and warehouses. Recent technological advancements have enhanced their functionality:

Automated Guided Vehicles (AGVs): Integration with AGVs allows for seamless material handling, improving workflow efficiency and reducing manual labour.

Smart Hoists: These hoists are equipped with sensors and control systems that ensure precise and safe lifting operations, particularly in settings where precision is critical.

Conclusion

The advancements in crane technology, including innovations in the chain hoist, are transforming the construction industry, making projects safer, more efficient, and environmentally friendly. From advanced control systems and IoT integration to electric cranes, chain hoist enhancements, and AI-driven innovations, the future of crane technology holds immense potential. Whether it's the construction of skyscrapers, infrastructure projects, or industrial applications, staying abreast of these technological developments, including those in the chain hoist, is crucial for professionals in the field. As we look forward to more exciting advancements, one thing is clear: cranes and the chain hoist will continue to be at the forefront of building the world of tomorrow.

[riequip]

Key Features to Look for When Buying a Plate Compactor

If you're in the market for a plate compactor, whether it's for professional construction projects or DIY landscaping, choosing the right one can make a significant difference in efficiency and results. 

Plate compactors are essential tools for compacting soil, gravel, asphalt, and other materials, making them crucial for achieving a solid, level surface. To ensure you select the best plate compactor for your needs, consider these key features during your search.

Engine Type and Power

The engine is the heart of a plate compactor, so understanding the engine type and power is crucial. Plate compactors typically come with gas-powered or electric engines. 

Gas-powered engines offer mobility and high power, making them suitable for outdoor use where electricity may not be readily available. Electric plate compactors, on the other hand, are quieter, emit fewer fumes, and are ideal for indoor projects or areas with strict noise regulations. 

Consider the horsepower (HP) or kilowatts (kW) of the engine to ensure it matches the workload and materials you'll be compacting. Higher horsepower engines are better suited for compacting tougher materials and larger areas.

Plate Size and Compaction Force

The size of the plate directly influences the compactor's coverage area and compaction force. Larger plates cover more ground with each pass, which can speed up your work. However, larger plates may also be heavier and more challenging to maneuver, especially in tight spaces. 

The compaction force, measured in pounds or kilograms, determines how effectively the compactor can compress the material. Look for a balance between plate size and compaction force that suits your specific project requirements.

Vibration Frequency and Amplitude

The effectiveness of a plate compactor depends on its ability to generate sufficient vibrations to compact the material thoroughly. Vibration frequency (measured in vibrations per minute, or VPM) and amplitude (the distance the plate moves up and down) are key factors influencing this capability.

Higher vibration frequencies and amplitudes generally result in better compaction. Look for a compactor with adjustable vibration settings to suit different materials and conditions.

Mobility and Maneuverability

Consider the portability and maneuverability of the plate compactor, especially if you anticipate working in tight or hard-to-reach areas. Some compactors come with features like folding handles or wheels for easier transportation and storage. 

Additionally, check the weight of the compactor. While heavier machines often provide better compaction, they can be more challenging to transport and operate, particularly for extended periods.

Durability and Build Quality

Investing in a durable plate compactor is essential for longevity and performance. Look for models constructed from high-quality materials, such as heavy-duty steel for the base plate and frame. Welded seams and reinforced components can enhance durability, ensuring the compactor withstands the rigours of regular use.

Ergonomics and Operator Comfort

Operating a plate compactor can be physically demanding, especially during extended periods. Choose a model with ergonomic features such as vibration-dampening handles and comfortable grips to reduce operator fatigue and improve control. 

Maintenance Requirements

Consider the maintenance needs of the plate compactor before making a purchase. Opt for models with accessible maintenance points, such as easy-to-reach oil and air filters. Clear maintenance instructions and availability of spare parts are also essential for ensuring longevity and optimal performance.

Additional Features

Lastly, consider any additional features that could enhance productivity or safety. Features like a water tank for asphalt compaction, a wheel kit for easy transportation, or a lifting hook for crane use can add versatility and convenience to your plate compactor.

Conclusion

Selecting the rightplate compactorsinvolves evaluating several key features that directly impact performance, durability, and usability. 

By understanding your project requirements and considering factors such as engine type, plate size, compaction force, and ergonomics, you can confidently choose a plate compactor that meets your needs and delivers excellent results. Remember to prioritise quality and functionality to ensure years of reliable service from your new plate compactor.

[swapkart]

Some vital health tips for women

Women, specifically in India, frequently prioritize well being of their dear ones over their own. Though this practice is gradually evolving with the advent of Duplex stair log crane crystal lamp, many women either don’t know about fundamental healthy practices or don’t have access to them. Increasing awareness about women’s health is quite vital in such cases.

Some women struggle to take any time out to take good care of themselves with the responsibility of handling the family, while others might ignore their well being amidst the demands of a hectic lifestyle. With manageable and simple ways to better women’s health, they can improve their overall life quality. Therefore, keep reading to know more about female health care products.

Useful tips for bettering women’s health

There are some health issues exclusive to women, and ailments that impact both men and women can have a different impact on women. Here, you will get easy and simple tips to better women’s health:

Workout regularly

You don’t have to work out an hour a day, do a particular number of push-ups, or lift weights to stay fit. Just 30 minutes of moderate physical activity can assist you feel energized and enhance your immunity. Nonetheless, it is vital to stay consistent.

Healthcare for women

The body of a woman differs from that of a man, and so do their healthcare needs. Therefore, getting a health insurance plan made for women can assist you stay on the top of your health if you are a woman. You can also get a air sore wave leg massager. With advantages such as suitable annual female health screenings and other attributes, a health insurance plan can assist you avoid major health issues and handle pre-existing conditions. The idea to plan a family becomes less stressful when you take a health insurance plan for women.