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rcmclachlan · 23 days ago

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wind finding

buck/tommy

8x14/8x15 spec fic

I wrote this right before my first morning meeting, so if it's rushed and makes no sense, I'm well aware. Enjoy!

The very second Tommy went with helicopters, people came crawling out of the woodwork to offer their two cents on everything from industry politics (all dangled carrots and empty promises) to what constitutes a good operator (whoever's actually signing your paycheck at the time) to which jobs would bring in the most money (ditching helicopters entirely in favor of planes) to the best ways to manage stress (avoiding utility altogether).

But the one piece of advice Tommy has never forgotten came from one of his first operators in Afghanistan, who had a face like a mountain crag and every word that came out of his mouth had to first find its way around the wad of dip permanently attached to his bottom gums.

"Being able to find the wind is the only skill you need to nail down, or else you're gonna frag out faster'n you can say 'high as bat pussy'. The odds of being able to see the leaves on a fuckin' tree are less'n nothin' out here, never mind spottin' a fuckin' windsock, Kinard. The second you get in the air, you just listen to your bird; she'll tell you point blank where the wind is, so long as you've got your ears on."

Then Warrant Officer Harold hocked a loogie the size of a crow at the ground and stormed away, shouting, "PRIVATE KEATON, IF YOU DON'T STOP FONDLIN' THAT REFUEL PROBE I'M GONNA SHOVE IT IN YOUR DICK HOLE!"

Twenty years later, Tommy's in the cockpit of his favorite AW139 with the mouth of a glock pressed right above his brain stem, and the second he achieves optimal altitude, he finds the wind.

"You make it look so effortless, like it's just something your body does. Like breathing," Evan had said during their one and only legal flight together, like he wasn't furious that Tommy had woken him up at 3:30 in the morning on his day off to go for a joyride. Even as the sun peeked over the horizon to see if the coast was clear, it couldn't hope to match the sheer brightness of Evan's smile.

If being able to find the wind wasn't practically part of his autonomic nervous system at this point in his career, Tommy'd have no business being in the air at all.

"Remember," the guy with the gun, Remo, murmurs into the headset he'd forced Tommy to give him. "Top of the Aon. We're making the switch there."

"Nakatomi Tower would be better for this sort of thing," Tommy mutters.

Instead of being whipped with the gun, the speaker in his ear crackles with Remo's laughter. "I was more partial to the second film."

Tommy grips the cyclic a little tighter. "That's the worst thing you've admitted to so far."

It's not. Bombing multiple police stations was bad enough, but one of them was right next to a school. The last thing that came through the comms before Remo's buddies hacked it was the 118 being called to 309 Lucas Ave in Westlake North for fire containment and emergency medical assistance.

He glances at the dashboard. Tucked right above the radar is a little photo he'd printed out at his local CVS on a whim while he was getting a 'Happy 80th birthday, grandma!" card for Sal. It's barely anything: a portrait forced to inhabit a 4x4 square, so the quality is extra shitty. But the man in it is smiling brighter than a sunrise over the ocean, and Tommy's heart gives a pitiful thud just looking at it.

Melton would've shit a brick if he'd known about it. Despite what Hollywood would have the general populace believe, having pictures of loved ones on a pilot's dashboard can be a hell of a distraction. It goes against LAFD regs.

But having spent the last month reacquainting himself with Evan's smile and the wild hope that they could have a future together, it felt right to tack the photo up. He was professional enough that he wouldn't let it get in the way of the job.

He thinks of Evan watching him from the bed this morning, tangled up in sheets that smelled like the both of them. He thinks of the blurred, sleep-damp smile on Evan's face as Tommy hid the evidence of what they got up to the previous night.

"You're covering up a masterpiece," Evan had said, voice a little blurred with sleep. "That's some of my best work."

"Let me guess: if I connect all the hickeys, it's gonna turn into a dolphin or something?"

Evan had thrown back his head on the pillow and cackled, and Tommy had thought, We could build a life on this.

Except Evan is pulling tiny bodies out of the ruins of Gratts Elementary, Tommy's got a gun to his head, and Remo's little cell of opportunistic assholes are using the bombings across the city to distract from the 51% blockchain hack they pulled off two hours ago. Tommy doesn't understand crypto for the life of him, but what he got from Harbor's newest probie was something something a blockchain’s distributed ledger was changed and double spending was enabled. At the time, it seemed like a lot of bullshit that boiled down to "they now control the invisible internet money conveyor belt," but at least 200 people are dead, and according to Remo, there are still 70 bombs wired and ready to explode on his say-so.

Unless Tommy flies him and his weird, silent friend to the Aon, where someone's going to be waiting to whisk them away to all points nowhere. Tommy knows exactly how this is going to shake out: the second he lands the bird, Remo's going to bury a bullet in Tommy's brain before disappearing into the wind, leaving the world in shambles. But it won't be enough. Remo will get bored before long—the smart, psychotic ones always do—and then pop back up at some point to do even worse if he has the opportunity.

Ten years from now, they'll make a documentary series about all this. Evan will watch it, because he's contractually obligated to seek out things that will hurt him for some reason, and it'll probably be like cutting open a just-healed wound. He'll spiral until Maddie or one of the others forces him to stop. The series will be called something stupid, like Finding Remo.

That is, of course, if Remo has the opportunity.

Swallowing, throat clicking, Tommy glances at the photo on the dashboard. Evan beams at him from where he's posing like the dorkiest Greek god in the pantheon on top of a boulder somewhere on the Temescal Canyon Trail. That had been a good day. It seemed like the start of a lifetime of them.

He looks away and out the windshield where, up ahead, the Aon stands tall against the sky. But standing taller, and closer, is Library Tower.

Exhaling, Tommy keeps his eyes straight. "Listen, you can put the gun away. It's not the threat you think it is."

"No?" Remo presses the glock harder against the back of Tommy's head, and Tommy stifles a wince. "You think I won't shoot you?"

"Oh, I know you're gonna shoot me," Tommy says, almost cheerfully. He refuses to look any closer at that. "I just don't think you're gonna do it while we're hanging 900 feet above the city."

The pause that follows is probably only a second or two, but it feels like a decade. Finally, the press of metal disappears, and Tommy hears the safety clicking back on.

"You seem pretty calm about all this," Remo says, curiosity making his already light voice positively airy.

Tommy shrugs. "Last year I stole one of these to fly some friends into a category 5 hurricane, then landed it on a capsized cruise ship. This? Doesn't even break a 6.5 on my Crazy Shit-o-meter."

Remo laughs, and Tommy hears the tell tale rustling of the gun being holstered. Thankfully the rotors completely drown out the sound of his heart pounding, which would otherwise be audible from space.

"Let me just say that of all the pilots I could've kidnapped, you're by far the most entertaining."

"Thank you," Tommy says seriously.

Below them, the Walt Disney Concert Hall is lit up for the night's show. They'll be passing the BoA Financial Center, and from there it's only a couple of minutes until their destination.

"Hey, uh, since this does end with me getting shot," Tommy ventures, trying to keep a lid on the massive amounts of adrenaline that are being dumped into his bloodstream. He must be visibly vibrating. "Could I... could I make a call?"

Remo snorts. "Let me guess: 9-1-1?"

Okay, that's kind of funny. Tommy cracks a grin. "Not quite. I have someone... I have someone, and there's something important I need to say."

One of the drawbacks of a helicopter's cockpit is there's no rearview mirror, which would really come in handy right now. He has no idea what Remo's face is doing. He has no idea if he's looking at his silent companion and having some kind of wordless conversation, if Remo is the kind of guy who would grant the last wish of someone he's using.

Finally, after what feels like years, Remo says, "You get ten seconds. You'd better make them count."

He's done more with less. "That's fair. But I'm either going to need you to call it for me or let me hook into an open line."

The air inside the helicopter seems to squeeze inward. "An open line?"

"My... my boyfriend's LAFD." He bites down on the inside of his cheek as they pass the BoA Center on the left, and hopes against all hope that Remo isn't too much of a homophobe to deny the request.

But surprise, surprise. Remo only laughs and says, "How romantic. Urs, get him on an open line to his firefighter boyfriend. It's the least we can do after everything he's done to help us."

Tommy can't see what Urs is doing, but his headset crackles with the familiar static of a live comms line.

"Ten seconds," Remo reminds him. Below them, the roof of Library Tower seems both miles away and impossibly close.

It's all he needs.

"This is LAFD pilot Tom Kinard. Evan Buckley, if you're listening, look in the drawer to the right of the microwave. There's something in there for you." He quietly undoes his harness and kills the engine. "It's yours. It's always been yours."

Just as the AW139 is about to clear the roof of the tower, Tommy shoulders open the door and kicks off into the sky.

The wind is blowing southeast.

"N-No, no, no, hey, it's okay, don't fight it, you're okay—hey, I need some help in here! He's waking up! Tommy, they're going to take it out, just wait."

There's a tree trunk growing out of his throat, but trying to move it is impossible, and the effort takes everything out of him. So he gives up, gagging and drifting in and out, then decides to just climb the entire length of the tree to get a look at the view. From there, it's just a matter of finding the wind and floating away with it.

The next time he surfaces, there's something hard over his face, warm and humid, and when the clouds clear from his vision he's able to see two things: Evan's wide-eyed expression of relief, and a giant orange poster board in Lucy's familiar, blocky handwriting that says 2 DAYS SINCE KINARD LAST TAUNTED GOD.

There's a 1 in front of the 2, but it's crossed out.

"Hey!" Evan breathes, and the mattress at Tommy's hip dips a little under his weight. "H-Hey, there you are. Morning! Well, not, uh, morning exactly—it's like 8 o'clock at night—but you're awake!"

"I am." It's muffled by the oxygen mask.

"How are you feeling? Are you in any pain?" Evan leans in, blocking Tommy's view of anything else. He hasn't shaved in a bit, and the hair at his temples looks a little greasy. He's the most gorgeous thing Tommy's ever laid eyes on.

"No pain," Tommy rasps. "M'body's full'f cotton."

Evan smiles a little. "Yeah, they've got you on the good stuff. I can't tell you how many bones you've broken, because it seems like they're still finding them. The doctor did say he'd never seen a pneumothorax quite like yours before, though. He keeps bringing other doctors in to look at your scans. I think a couple of them cancelled their surgeries so they could watch yours yesterday. You're like a celebrity. You've got, like, four tubes in you sucking the excess air out."

For a second, Tommy has no idea what he's talking about. Pneumothorax? How'd he manage that? Lucy's gonna give him shit for the next year.

Then, like a breeze kicking up from the west, it all comes sweeping in. Something starts beeping a little erratically. "Did—did he... he didn't... did... R-Remo...?"

The words are slow and thick, like they have to climb over the broken branches the tree had left behind, but understanding lights up Evan's face almost immediately. He thinks Evan must be holding his hand, because there's pressure on his fingers that feels like it's coming from another room.

"He didn't," Evan says softly, but there's a sparkle of brutal satisfaction in his eyes that Tommy can't look away from. "The helicopter went down like a sack of bricks after you ditched it. It took out the coffee shop in the library. Before you ask: they close at 2:30, so no one had been in there for hours. No one was hurt. Except, well, what's his name."

Tommy closes his eyes and breathes in the canned, almost metallic stuff they're feeding him through the mask. It's so pure, it makes him a little dizzy.

"Good." His sinuses prickle hotly. "Good. That's..."

"Hey, hey, shhh," Evan coos, and Tommy opens his eyes just in time to see Evan press his mouth lushly to the curve of the oxygen mask. Despite whatever they're giving him, Tommy's lips ache with the need to feel that kiss.

"Evan," he whispers.

When he pulls back, Evan's got a wide, almost gleeful grin tugging the corners of his mouth to his ears. He looks like he's about to blow up a Gotham City school bus to try and draw out Batman. Instead, he lifts his left hand.

The lights in the room are low, so the ring on Evan's finger doesn't really glint as brightly as it should, but the light in Evan's eyes is almost blinding.

"Drawer to the right of the microwave, huh?" He laughs a little, like it's bubbling out of him, like he can't stop it. "How long had that been in there?"

It takes a moment for Tommy to pick through the cobwebs in his brain. "Mm... got it... after we did that flight over... hm... Channel Islands."

Evan stares at him, then his bubbly laughter morphs into maniacal cackling.

Tommy glances down at his hands to see if they gave him a button for the pain meds he's on. He's going to dilaudid himself into oblivion.

"That was four months into..." Evan uses their joined hands to wipe away the tears beading on his lashes. "When I asked you to move in, you ran away so fast you left a trail of dust behind you. But you bought an engagement ring four months into dating me?"

"In my defense," Tommy says, suddenly very jealous of Remo for dying a fiery death in the LA Library coffee shop. "I knew... you were it for me. You, on the other hand, had no idea... hm... what you wanted. Asking me... to move in wasn't—it wasn't about me."

Pursing his lips, Evan ducks his head and doesn't deny it, but when he tilts his chin up, the only thing on his face is bare, earnest truth. "I knew I wanted you, Tommy, any way I could have you. I didn't know what that looked like, and not knowing made me... I don't know if you've noticed, but I tend to cling when I panic."

Tommy thinks back over the last month—how every time he showed up on Eddie's doorstep, Evan practically threw himself at Tommy, clutching at him like he was afraid Tommy might go back down the walkway and leave; how getting up to take a piss or grab a Gatorade meant leaving the bed, and the look on Evan's face every time was like watching a car crash—and squeezes Evan's hand. He thinks he does, at least.

"Do you... know what it looks like now?" It takes almost all his strength to get the words out. A wave of exhaustion rolls over him, and he pinwheels a little with it. Kicking his way back to the surface takes concentration.

Evan lifts his hand again. The ring fits his finger perfectly. "It looks like you, about to fall asleep."

Another wave bowls him over, and he fights to keep his eyes open. Lucy's stupid poster blurs like someone's upturned a can of Sprite over it.

"I'll be here when you wake up, and so will half the LAPD and a bunch of people from the FBI. You're the hero of the day," Evan murmurs, and Tommy grumbles a little. "But, hey, Tommy. Before you—how did you know? How'd you know I was it for you?"

Even as he's being pulled down into the dark, he looks up, and he sees the surface roiling, dancing with the light of an old sunrise that couldn't hold a candle to the phenomenon of Evan Buckley's smile.

"Found th' wind," Tommy mumbles, drifting down, down, down. "'s easy. Like breathing."

#i wrote this directly into the tumblr text box like i had nothing to lose and it shows #bucktommy #bucktommy fic #tevan fic #911 spec fic #rc's 911 fics

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jjkeremika · 1 year ago

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Here to Forever

description: date nights with the AoT men (plus historia lol) <3

pairing: Eren, Levi, Reiner, Armin, Porco, Erwin, Jean, Zeke, Historia, all x (fem!) reader

like A LITTLE nsfw/smutty

Eren

Eren and you almost always went to the movie theaters--your man loves a good trip to the movies. Sometimes you would suggest a meal before, but he was always reluctant, complaining that then he'd be too full to eat the movie snacks. You always rolled your eyes with a large smile on your face, usually caving.

Movie choice alternated each time, you often opting for comedies and animations while Eren advocated for actions and sci-fi's. He liked to sit in the back, able to view the entire screen, usually directly under the speaker so no one could hear your hushed whispers and hearty breaths.

Although you enjoyed a good movie now and then, Eren's eyes were fixed to the screen, absorbed in the film that he wouldn't even notice when you asked for the candy.

So you always enjoyed the bad movies the most, because Eren's attention was on you; and the fact that you had to be very, very quiet while his hands groped your breasts, while they traveled to your bottoms, turned you both on. Sometimes he'd pull you onto his lap, his fingers intimately gracing the sensitive spot between your legs as he nibbled at your earlobe, sucked on your neck. You kept going back, because you've only been asked to leave once.

Levi (age gap)

Levi didn't talk a whole ton, but he liked listening to you. He fervently believed you were smarter than him, always spouting interesting ideas and bringing up counterpoints. And you were so damn kind to everyone, always considerate, and he genuinely did not give a damn about anyone.

Except you. He cared an awful lot about you. Having repeatedly been kicked down by life (he didn't really talk about that), born into a shitty lot in life, had the rug pulled out from under him and lost everything, he built wall after wall and thought he'd lost access to his emotions. Then he found you. And somehow your naivety and wide-eyed view reinvigorated something deep inside.

Although relatively stoic and unemotional in public and rarely voiced his positive opinions with friends, Levi was, in some sense, rather vulnerable when alone with you. He was quite open about his infatuation with you in private; his eyes frequently roaming your body, his mouth pressing hundreds of kisses to your skin.

Then there was the vulnerability that manifested in unique ways. The immense desire to have you, the fiery need to have you on your knees, taking him, all of him, feeling him so deeply it'll last for hours, craving him so deeply to last for days. After he was satisfied with the number of times you'd called his name, begged for more, he'd take the best care of you, wrapping you in his softest sweatpants and giving you the warmest kisses and making you both the most delicious food.

So while most couple's dates consisted of the date then sex, yours was reversed, always working up an appetite.

Reiner

Reiner's dates, a generous term, were always spontaneous activities: playing soccer at midnight, hiking some oh it's only a few miles trails, biking or rollerblading around the city. Even though the physical activity was exhausting and sometimes even daunting, Reiner's presence made it infinitely better.

He'd carry everything, never letting you carry any bags (not that you'd complain). He'd offer various snacks and water, offer to frequently slow the pace or stop and admire the surroundings. Uh, why are you looking at me like that? you'd ask, an eyebrow raised. Hm? I told you. I'm admiring my surroundings, he'd answer, the sunlight reflecting off his brilliant smile.

Hiking was the most frequent activity during nice weather, which, you couldn't deny, definitely had its perks. During higher altitude breaks with clearings in the trees, or at the peak of the climb, when the view was the most clear and pristine and the sunlight was basking on you.

The view was always worth it, and you'd preen as Reiner's lips would connect with yours, smile widely as he gripped your thighs and picked you up, carrying you until your back was against a rock edge or a tree. His large hands groped your cheeks as he kissed sloppily down the middle of your neck towards your chest, already breathing heavy. You smiled as the tingling sensation and a warm heat spread throughout your body, the gorgeous landscape disappearing as your eyes blinked shut with pleasure.

Armin

Armin liked to have you all to himself, often taking you on dates to secluded places or sitting in the corner of restaurants. He was the most gentlemanly and domestic, packing extra jackets and carrying sneakers on the nights you wore heels.

His favorite site was under the large oak tree in the meadows, near where the rabbit's den was. He would set up a picnic blanket in the shade, removing fake glasses for champagne and perfectly portioned meals.

Armin loved telling you how beautiful you looked in the setting sun, the golden light highlighting your features just right. He composed lyrical hymns on the spot, accidentally stringing into teary-eyed poems and soft-spoken sonnets.

The sunset is so beautiful, you would say. Not as beautiful as you, he would reply. You'd roll your eyes because, well, cheesy, before he'd continue: Words elude me as they know they're not worthy of you; Dictionaries are developed to describe you; I could list ten thousand things and none would be as beautiful as you.

And you'd kiss him as the sun dipped beyond the horizon, as the stars shined second to you, illuminating your face as you moaned in ecstasy, intensifying Armin's blue eyes and blond hair as he stared at you from between your legs, his tongue writing love letters in cursive.

Porco

You were the first person Galliard had ever been on a date with, which honestly surprised you. His tough exterior, confident demeanor, honest humor, and cynical smile was so charming you had a hard time believing him when he coyly told you that you were his first, the pink blush on his cheeks just so cute.

During the warm evenings you'd walk along the beach together, enjoying the expansive view of the stars and the soft sounds of the waves landing against the sandy shoreline, watching the tide change.

The sway of you in his huge arms always synced to the sway of the tide, a gentle rocking that soothed your body and mind. You'd close your eyes as his lips would travel along the back of your neck and upper spine. Your hands would travel to his hair and you'd push your hips back into his. Eventually he'd grab your hips and forcefully spin you around, kissing you and dragging you to the soft sand.

He always returned you home after, moist swollen lips and pleasantly tingling bodies, sharing knowing looks and giggles at the dry-humping and grinding that transpired; the sand you find at home for days after becoming an intimate inside joke between you.

Erwin (age gap)

Erwin was the first older man you've been with, and you weren't sure how you had ever survived before. Experienced, mature, muscular, capable, successful, stable.

You were his priority. Were you happy with your wardrobe? He'll buy you a new one. No one to go to the store with? He'll take you shopping wherever you'd like. Did you like the furniture in your apartment? He'll buy you a new set. Did paying bills stress you out? He'll pay it for you. What else would I want to spend my money on if not you? he'd tell you when you'd protest, capturing you within his large arms, pressing you into his strong chest.

Date nights were events, where you both dressed in your nicest garments and ate at a nice restaurant. Erwin would open and close the car door for you, push and pull the chair out for you, pour the bottle of wine for you, order for you, telling you he knew what you liked (he always did).

During the dinner the clouds in his blue eyes whisked into lustful storms. He'd pay the check and hurry you out of the restaurant with his hand glued to your lower back, complaining in your ear about how the food never tasted as good as you did, how he'd wished you'd stayed in and he'd had you instead. He'd rush you into the car, practically running to the other side of the car and racing home.

Jean

Jean prepared you dinner for your first date, buying the ingredients fresh that morning and preparing it from scratch, still cooking (about an hour from being done) when you arrived at his apartment. He'd begged his roommate to leave for the night, and he'd already prepared the table for a romantic evening (about 5 hours before the date started).

He greeted you with a peck on the cheek, a move that you watched him internally question for a split-second, one that he then tried to move on from by awkwardly shuffling you to the counter. You'd smile, a light blush forming from the proximity and the heat of the room.

He liked preparing you dinners for dates, frequently remaking the meal you'd had that first night, kissing you on the cheek every time in homage to that first night. Jean would shower you with compliments, making up for the moments where the sarcastic comments would slip through.

After a few dates you started arriving earlier to cook with him, chopping and dicing vegetables while he seasoned and operated the stove. He'd trap you between his arms against the counter, pressing kiss after kiss to your cheeks and lips and pulling you close, your hands traveling to the growing bulge in his jeans, only moving away when you both started to smell something burning.

Zeke

You had first met Zeke on the lawn at a concert. He was shirtless, sitting on a flannel fabric (probably his shirt), waving both hands in the cool autumn air, a lit lighter in one hand, swaying to the beat of the music, smoking something between his lips.

He put it out as soon as he noticed you standing nearby, scrambling to stand up and started to talk to you between opening acts, somehow managing to intrigue you enough for a date outside the concert venue (totally didn't have anything to do with his six-pack abs).

Although keeping a cool, calm, and collected demeanor, Zeke was always nervous on your dates, constantly wondering if you were enjoying yourself, if the conversation was stimulating enough or if the activities were entertaining enough. He never said anything, but you could read it in the unsteady glances and nervous nail biting.

When you wrapped your arms around his neck, you'd step on your tip-toes and press a soft kiss to his lips, swooping in to ease his anxieties. I had a great time with you, you'd whisper against his lips, thanks for a great night.

He'd tighten his grip around your waist, pull you in as close as you could get, until the only space left between you was the air in your lungs and he was going to squeeze that out too. His attitude would shift as the blood started pumping to his legs, smacking your ass and biting your bottom lip. Let me make it so much better.

Historia

When Historia had first confessed her feelings for you at the coffee shop, you were slightly surprised. The hand-holding and faux-flirting was something she did with everyone. You never realized it was special with you, that it was real with you.

She liked to spoil you, and though she always needed to convince you, you always gave in, letting her buy just that one thing for you or take you to that place you really wanted to go.

Museums were where you both frequently visited, the quiet ambiance perfect for you two. You both talked so much outside of date nights that you had nothing to say during them, and observing art was a hobby you both shared (one that you imprinted on her (she likes it because you do)).

You found out later that Historia considered that time at the coffee shop your first date. But you considered it that first night at the museum, when your hands grazed in front of the Mona Lisa, when you both felt pulled together for the first time, when you both leaned in and kissed for the first time, feeling like no eyes were on you.

Despite that Historia was very affectionate, that first time being an exemption, she never kissed you in public or on camera. That was shared between you two behind closed doors, and you two alone.

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postoctobrist · 9 days ago

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adverse conditions film club: flying home from New York to Heathrow. 8am takeoff because we let my friend book the tickets and he's insane. I'm in a middle seat near the back of economy. My phone is dead. My seatback screen is also dead. I can't go to sleep like I usually do on flights as we've been in turbulence as soon as we hit cruising altitude. I'm out of options. The guy in the seat in front of me is watching Top Gun: Maverick on his screen. I get to enjoy Tom Cruise's Pilot Adventure Two with no audio, tiny subtitles, and inclement weather that keeps shaking open the overhead compartments. Solid 6/10 really immersive experience

technically you were that guy’s RIO

#adverse conditions film club

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thepeoplesmovies · 8 months ago

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Watch Clip For Blur: To The End, Now On Digital

After a short UK cinema run, Altitude Films have released Blur: To The End on Digital Platforms. Teasing the film’s Digital release we have a short clip which some of the band reflect on friendship and touring. blur: To The End follows the four friends – and bandmates of three decades – Damon Albarn, Graham Coxon, Alex James and Dave Rowntree as they came together in early 2023 to record new…

#Alex James #Altitude Films #Blur: To The End #Damon Albarn

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usafphantom2 · 3 months ago

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Sonic boom certainly had its place in history.

The Sound of Freedom. 51 years ago, on May 2, 1972.

During the Vietnam War, the word was out that the prisoners that the Vietnamese had captured were being tortured. They were struggling to find a plan to rescue the POWs. Attempts to escape had been met with beatings for the entire camp of prisoners of war if one person attempted to escape. In May 1972 a new plan was installed telling the POWs that if they hear the sound of thunder that they were to escape and run down to the river where there would be Navy SEALs waiting to rescue them. There was disagreement among the inmates about whether to risk another escape. A senior POW convinced them that it wasn’t right to make everyone in the camp suffer if they were captured during the escape. Without knowing that the POWs were not going to escape the plan went forth.

The plan was for two SR-71 Blackbird planes to fly over the Hanoi Hilton.

The flight plan was to fly the SR‘s so close that their sonic booms would be only 30 seconds apart. On May 2 and May 4 this happened. POW signal, May 2, 1972, SR-71 number, 979, first of three aircraft. The first indication I had that we might fly a mission like this, (where two SR-71 would crisscross over North Vietnam thirty seconds apart), was when one of the planners asked me at the OL “how close, in time, can you come over a point on the ground?” I told him, “as close as you want.” I don’t think he believed me because he said, “can you come to the point within thirty seconds to two minutes?” I said, “of course, we can control airspeed and reach the point at the time you want us to be at the point in space.”We had this capability because we had insisted at Edwards’, in 1965, that we know the time to the next point, (time to go) something the computer experts and engineers at Edwards’ never thought about and never understood why we needed this information.

Bob Spencer and I, Richard “Butch” Sheffield we were the senior crew in the wing at the time, and Chief of the Standardization Division; were selected to lead both the missions and take off first. Darrel Cobb and Reg Blackwell was the spare crew and took off later to position themselves to replace either aircraft. Tom Pugh and Ron Rice took off about an hour later and met us over Hanoi.

After refueling over Thailand, we climbed to altitude and heading north along the China boarder. Once we reach the speed were our inlets and spikes programmed properly, we clicked our mike to single Cobb and Blackwell that we were OK and going on to the target. They flew a random course back to Kadena. About three days after we landed back at Kadena, the staff decided to look at Cobb and Blackwell’s film collected on the random course back to Kadena. A POW camp was found.

On May 4, 1972 we did it all over again the same exact mission (SR-71 number 980, first of three).

Same results, but we shaved one half second off the separation time to thirty-one and one half second.

We came across Hanoi on a southerly heading at seventy-six-thousand feet at Mach 3.17; Pugh and Rice came across the same point, thirty-two seconds after us, at seventy eight-thousand feet on a westerly heading.

The mission was a complete success. No one could believe that we came within two seconds of the mark

I understand that some SR pilots who came along years later have been saying the booms were simultaneous. That is not so, they were thirty-one seconds apart. I served on two promotion boards with former POW’s, they said they heard the two distinct booms, but did not know why we did it.

I now know that it was to signal the POW’s, the book, “Operation Thunderhead”, written by Navy SEAL Kevin Dockery that confirms it.

I am proud of my father that he participated in and helped in the planning of the mission of the sound of freedom.`Linda Sheffield

@Habubrats71 via X

#sr 71 #sr71 #sr 71 blackbird #blackbird #aircraft #usaf #lockheed aviation #skunkworks #mach3+#habu #aviation #reconnaissance #cold war aircraft

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bekolxeram · 6 months ago

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Long sigh......

I've heard that one of the most problematic bnf from the other side of the fandom claimed on Tiktok that Tommy wouldn't be part of the emergency landing rescue because "the controls (of a helicopter and a jet airliner) are different". I know I made a whole thing out of Tommy being a helicopter pilot instead of a fixed wing one. (I even made up a sunshiny airplane pilot ex boyfriend for Tommy, that was fun while it lasted) I have no idea how that bnf makes the logical leap that if Tommy isn't physically solo flying that plane, then he won't be involved at all. He's still a firefighter working with aircrafts at an airport. Unless the writers for some reason don't want Tommy to be in the episodes at all and pull the "not on duty" card, it would actually make less sense for him not to be there.

You know the drill. Don't read further if the discussion of Tommy not being able to fly everything bothers you. Block the tag #aviation realism if this whole topic doesn't interest you. I've hesitated a lot whether I should post my thoughts on this, but I guess this is the last chance to speculate, so here goes nothing. This is my specs for Tommy's involvement in the plane disaster.

First, I want to clarify something. I never said Tommy wasn't on the plane in 2x14. If by flying that plane, you mean actually taking the pilot seat, grabbing the yoke and executing risky low altitude maneuvers over mountainous terrain, no, I don't think Tommy can do it. The thing is, operating an aircraft that size requires a whole team, up to 5 in this case. I can totally imagine Tommy onboard sitting behind the pilots, helping out with navigation or precise drop coordination.

youtube

It's possible, even common to transition from flying rotary to fixed wing. JetBlue and Frontier both provide rotor transition programs to veterans, I've also seen a former Army Blackhawk pilot now flies the C-130 for the Coast Guard. Training ex-military pilots to become commercial airliner pilots has a higher success rate and takes less time than training a regular civilian. But you see the problem, none of them have been working as an active firefighter for the past 20 years.

Let's cut to the chase, I don't think Tommy will be landing that plane. In the original film, they decide transferring an Air Force pilot into the crippled 747 is the only option, because they think woman dumb Nancy can't handle it. Aviation technology has come a very long way since the 70s. This MythBusters episode from 2007 proves that not only is it possible for a complete novice to land a jet airliner by following verbal instructions, modern planes are so advanced that they can practically land themselves.

Sure, there probably will be some major damages to the systems needed for a normal landing (landing gear, flaps, brakes, thrust reversers) rendering an autoland impossible, because drama. But then you run into the problem of where the hell is the Air Force. Last season, the Coast Guard was busy rescuing other ships stranded at sea so some LAFD firefighters had to steal a helicopter to search for a cruise ship that didn't call for help. This time, a passenger airliner without its flight crew has a very real possibility of crashing in a densely populated urban area, the whole incident is also reported live on TV news, how can they explain the absence of the Air Force? Even assuming no commercial pilots in the area, including the ex-military ones are willing to do such a dangerous stunt and tether into the cockpit from outside, what's stopping the AIr Force pilots?

I don't think Tommy will be the one instructing Athena through the landing either. You run into basically the same problem. There are plenty of flight instructors of that exact model of aircraft out there better suited for the job. Flying a modern airliner, especially an Airbus, is more like flying a computer than an actual plane. You need someone with intimate knowledge of the plane's flight control systems in order to talk a non-pilot through operating it.

I know, I know, I'm being a killjoy right now, I'm worse than the Tommy haters and I should shut the fuck up, but even if we're going 100% realistic, referring to real life aviation incidents of this scale (Yes, I'm talking about JetBlue 292 again), Tommy is especially going to be part of the rescue.

Real!LAFD deployed a few helicopters in the JetBlue sideway nose gear incident to monitor the airfield and to help coordinate ground personnel/equipment, with a couple more standing by on the ground in case anyone on the plane needed emergency medevac.

I think the first officer might need a chopper ride if they want to save his femoral artery.

In the same incident, a local news copter also helped survey the landing gear issue from the outside. Tommy's helicopter can do that as well.

It's getting too long, but I have a few out-of-universe reasons for why Tommy will likely not play a super major part in this plane disaster arc, I'll just speed through them: Tommy's not a main character when screen time is already tight for the mains (I'd prefer to see him more in later Buck centric eps), he's already saved the day last season, I think production has blown all their budget on the airplane sets, the new trucks and the CGI bees already that they can't fit a helicopter in. (Let alone to replicate the original pilot transferal scene, it was a real stunt, they really got an AIr Force helicopter to dangle a stuntman in front of a flying 747. It was dangerous and hella expensive)

I actually hope Tommy would be working on the ground this time, I would kill to see him working with Buck and the 118, and not in the sky doing his own thing.

#Just want to let it all out at the last possible moment #I'm queuing this for later and logging off for the rest of the night not sure I want to face to music yet #sharing aviation stuff related to Tommy now fills me with dread #911 speculation #911 spoilers #911 meta #bucktommy #tommy kinard #aviation realism #911 abc

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mysteryshoptls · 2 years ago

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SSR Jack Howl - Club Wear Voice Lines

When Summoned: I don't plan on getting stuck in a pack with everyone else. I'll run at my own pace.

Summon Line: I got a good training regimen going. I'll improve my physique before the next meet... And I'll definitely beat my target time!

Groooovy!!: I'll shake everyone else off. The one who'll cross the finish line first will be... me!

Home: Right! Guess I'll start with some warm-up exercises.

Home Idle 1: Marathon running is a sport where it's important to determine strategies for pacing and positioning. I always have a plan of attack for each one I run.

Home Idle 2: I recommend the woods behind campus as a good running course. The path is unpaved, so it's just right for building your core.

Home Idle 3: I find pole vaulting to be frustrating. Even when I think I've made the jump, sometimes my tail gets caught on the pole. I need to figure out a way to overcome that somehow.

Home Idle - Login: I like how we can visually see our results with proper timekeeping in Track and Field. That helps me see exactly how well I'm doing, and how far I've come.

Home Idle - Groovy: If you're planning to watch our practice, then go sit in the tree shade over there. No, it's not 'cause I'm worried about you. You'll just be a distraction if you're too close.

Home Tap 1: Guess I'll have to do some shoe maintenance soon. I need to make sure my prep is spot on so I can have some real results, so.

Home Tap 2: We went into the mountains for the Track and Field Club training camp. Because of the thinner air at that higher altitude, it made for a harder run and good exercise.

Home Tap 3: Athletic supporters help to reduce unnecessary muscle movement, which in turn helps me from getting tired too quickly. It's definitely a must if we're practicing for long hours.

Home Tap 4: Deuce raced against an upperclassman in the 400 meter dash. Man, no matter how many times he was passed, he would quickly overtake him... He's got mettle.

Home Tap 5: I'm hungry. I want to eat something, but... I'll hold off for now, because I'm about to go running. I don't want to stress out my stomach and lower my time.

Home Tap - Groovy: I tried filming my running form... But it's just not working out. Oh, you'll help me video it? Alright, I'll leave it to you then.

Duo: [JACK]: Deuce, can you keep up with me? [DEUCE]: Don't underestimate me, Jack!

Requested by @dida-books.

#twisted wonderland #twst #jack howl #deuce spade #twst jack #twst deuce #twst translation #twst club wear

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accio-victuuri · 19 days ago

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wang yibo - china philanthropist magazine

Glaciers are the world's largest freshwater reservoirs, but with global warming, glaciers are melting and shrinking at a very fast rate. In 2020, Wen Xu and his wife Hu Jiaojiao registered and established China's first public welfare organization focusing on glaciers, Polar Future.

Just last year at the 29th United Nations Climate Conference (COP29), Polar Future, as one of the organizers, held a side event with the theme of "Youth Action for the Future of the World".

In order to arouse as much attention as possible, Polar Future recommended Wen Xu and artist @UNIQ-王一博to the United Nations as Chinese youth representatives, and also served as the publicity ambassador of the Ministry of Ecology and Environment, and filmed a promotional video for the year of glacier protection.

Wang Yibo issued an initiative in the form of an online video: pay attention to climate change, contribute to the promotion of climate action, and use practice to demonstrate the commitment of young people to global sustainable development.

In February of this year, Wen Xu and Wang Yibo went to the Renlongba Glacier in Changdu, Tibet, and completed ice climbing and scientific research in high-altitude areas. The film was also shot at that time.

#wang yibo

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stevebattle · 4 months ago

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Joe the Robot (AKA FANTASTIC FILMS ROBOT) by Steve Johnson and Tullio Proni, General Technics (1977). Joe appears on the back cover of Fantastic Films, October 1978, where you could apparently "WIN A FREE (R2D2-Type Remote-Controlled) ROBOT worth $3000.

"That's Joe the Robot, built by Steve Johnson and Tullio Proni in 1977, with help from other GT members. When STAR WARS came out, Joe was repainted to resemble R2D2. The General Technics gang showed him off at movie theaters around Chicago; sometimes they got in for free. Joe was controlled by Touch-Tone signals sent over a CB radio channel. I think he was propelled by a pair of windshield-wiper motors." – W. Higgins (beamjockey)

"While in college in Chicago, I helped form General Technics, a technology-oriented science fiction group (or was that a science fiction-oriented technology group?), with friends Jeff Duntemann, Jim Fuerstenberg, Tullio Proni, and many other members of midwestern university science-fiction clubs. We originally coalesced around blinkies, robots, and the beginnings of personal computing, and have extended our grasp to high-altitude rocketry, high voltage, and raising kids. John Brunner, the author of "Stand on Zanzibar," the science fiction novel in which the General Technics corporation appears, graciously permitted us to use the name of his fictitious company. GT has flourished in the intervening years, combining with a similar group from Michigan Technological University, and attracting members from all over the world. GT remains loosely organized. If you consider yourself to be "in" GT, you are!" " – Steve Johnson, General Technics.

#cybernetics #robot #binbot #1977 #General Technics

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insanityclause · 11 months ago

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EXCLUSIVE: Oscar-winning producers See-Saw Films (The King’s Speech) are gearing up on Tenzing, about the inspirational life of Sherpa Tenzing Norgay and his summit of Mount Everest in 1953 alongside fellow outsider New Zealander Edmund Hillary.

A search is currently underway to cast the lead role of Tenzing Norgay who will star alongside BAFTA-nominated Tom Hiddleston (Loki) as Sir Edmund Hillary, and Oscar winner Willem Dafoe (Poor Things) as the English expedition leader, Colonel John Hunt.

Tenzing comes from filmmaker Jennifer Peedom who has the exclusive rights to tell Tenzing’s story via his family and has a close relationship with the Sherpa community after making acclaimed documentary Sherpa.

Script comes from Oscar-nominated Luke Davies (Lion) and producers are Liz Watts, Emile Sherman and Iain Canning for See-Saw Films, alongside Jennifer Peedom and Luke Davies. Executive producers are Simon Gillis, David Michôd and Norbu Tenzing.

Tibetan born Tenzing Norgay, alongside New Zealand mountaineer Edmund Hillary, both outsiders on a British Expedition, defied insurmountable odds to achieve what was once thought impossible, reaching the summit of the world’s tallest mountain, Mount Everest. After six previous attempts, Tenzing risked everything for one final venture. He had to navigate treacherous politics and perilous weather as he embarked on the most significant climb of his life. Through it all, he did so with humor, warmth, and generosity towards his fellow climbers, but also deep reverence and respect for the sacred Mother Goddess of his Mountain, Chomolungma.

This will be one of the hot projects at next week’s Cannes market where Rocket Science will be handling international sales in partnership with Cross City Films, See-Saw’s in-house sales arm. UTA Independent Film Group and Cross City Films are co-repping the U.S. sale. We understand filming is being lined up for spring 2025.

Peedom, known for her intimate portraits against epic landscapes, including documentaries Solo, Sherpa and Mountain, said: “I could not be more thrilled to be bringing Tenzing Norgay’s story to the screen. I’ve been working towards this film my whole career, and I’m incredibly grateful to Tenzing’s family for entrusting me with it. I am excited to work with See-Saw Films and our amazing cast to bring this story to life. Tom Hiddleston and Willem Dafoe are two of the most generous and talented actors in the business, so pairing them with our brilliant Himalayan cast is going to be electric. I have no doubt this film will resonate widely. We all have our own mountains to climb, and this film shows us what human beings are truly capable of.”

Producers Emile Sherman and Iain Canning added: “We are so excited to embark on this exhilarating ascent led by one of the most inspirational directors we’ve encountered, Jennifer Peedom. Her award-winning experience in the world of high-altitude filmmaking, alongside her unique relationship with the Sherpa community and her masterful storytelling skills make her the perfect director for this film.”

Norbu Tenzing, son of Tenzing Norgay, commented: “Jen is somebody who has earned the respect of our people, understands the community, and is deeply immersed in our culture. She’s a great human being and someone that we trust, and she has had a lifelong interest in the story of my father Tenzing Norgay. I am delighted that she has taken on this project and can’t wait for the world to see who my father was.”

Hiddleston is represented by UTA, Hamilton Hodell, and Johnson Shapiro Slewett & Kole. Willem Dafoe is represented by WME, The Artist Partnership, and Circle of Confusion.

#tenzing norgay #tom hiddleston #sir edmund hillary #willem dafoe #john hunt

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