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writesick-lover · 1 year ago

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Jabberjays and Mockingjays

Coriolanus Snow x reader

⤞ My masterlist ⤝

Summary: You meet Coriolanus Snow during his service as a Peacekeeper in the 12th district. The 10th Hunger Games were forgotten, Lucy Gray was gone and Snow is now stuck with someone who promises a fair company. What looks like a happy ending can easily turn into an ugly betrayal. All it takes is a click of a device.

A/N: Happy holidays everyone! Stay safe, lots of love and if you like my work feel free to like reblog and comment! :)

Also if you want to ask me anything -> /ask

♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️

Coriolanus Snow served his time in District 12, mostly bored out of his mind. He tried to accompany other Peacekeepers to the bar every evening in search of at least some fun, just for his eyes to find the podium and fall on the victor of the 10th Hunger Games. He gritted his teeth as Lucy Gray left the podium, performing another of her songs like always. Not a glance spared his way.

Instead, she threw herself onto a nearby chair, stuffing her mouth with a small piece of meat she got for her performance. Her fingers dug into the bone. Her lips were smeared with grease. A wave of disgust rose in him, sending shivers down his whole being. She was a victor. How could she live like this? How could she just come back and live her ordinary and poor life after what she has been through? And how could she treat him like a ghost? After what he had done for her?

While there was disgust in Snow, there was never an ounce of anger. After all, if it wasn't for Highbottom, he would be in Capitol holding his prize, knowing damn well he played the same games as she did. That's just how it was. And if Lucy Gray hadn't known how to play the game, she wouldn't have been a victor. But the game was over, Lucy Gray was rather forgotten and so was he, now stuck in the poorest district, forced to do the dirtiest work, his ego hurting every time he looked around, knowing very well he did not belong here, at least not like Sejanus seemed to.

It was a sunny day when Snow creeped out of the centre of the 12th and towards the flower-covered Meadow. His heart was beating out of his chest as his legs carried him down the hill to a lonesome tree, watching over the rest of the woods down in the alley. It was where he spoke with Lucy Gray for the last time. He came unarmed, relying on the completely abandoned stones under the tree. Yet, they weren't. Not really.

"You can go keep peace where it's actually wanted," a voice from above made him jump up. His right hand immediately reached for the absent belt on his hips. He almost forgot he didn't bring his gun, didn't think he needed it. As his eyes slowly scanned the tree trunk from the roots to the branches, he noticed a sly smirk flashing between the greenery of the tree's leaves. The intruder seemed to be amused by his scare. He couldn't help but frown in confusion as a disobedient smirk already sat on his lips. How did he not notice?

"Got you good, huh?" the person spoke once again, now their voice coming from in front of him, accompanied by an intentionally loud thud that made him jump once again, this time his palm reaching for his heart.

His widened eyes scanned the person that now stood steadily on the ground, already knowing they had to be from the Covey. The pieces of colourful fabric that covered their body, matched with the green of the forest and the occassional bright colour of the flowers. The crown on their head was made of early dandelions. And the fact that no one in their right mind except the Covey would dare to stray so far away from the District's centre, gave Coriolanus a clear answer who this person was.

But Coriolanus knew he was an exception as well. He also dared to stray this far away.

"Do you greet everyone like this?" he breathed out the air he was holding in his lungs up until now.

"No, just lost peacekeepers who seem to get in the way," you shrugged, already taking him in from head to toe. No weapons, but white hair cut into a buzzcut which would sort him into the peacekeeper's family immediately, if his uniform wasn't giving that out already. It made you scoff.

"You shouldn't be here," the peacekeeper's voice broke the silence. "I could call the others if I wanted to," he threatened, but it only made you laugh out loud, your melodic laughter catching the attention of the birds around.

"What's so funny?" you looked back at the man in front of you, only to find his composure completely serious, almost as if he meant everything he said. "You cannot do anything here," you spoke, the giggles still hearable in your voice. "You shouldn't be here as well,"

"But neither should you," the blond repeated once again.. "Covey is way lower in the alley, you barely come here,"

"They barely do. Let's say I come here a bit more, alone," your voice got lost in the breeze around you as your last few words turned into a whisper. Nevertheless, you straightened up your posture, waiting for the peacekeeper's next words, ready to flee if needed.

"Coriolanus Snow," was what came from between his lips. Your eyes widened. "That's my name," Coriolanus felt like he had to explain, based on your confused expression. "Y/n," you let out, not believing your own ears. A mischievous smile painted his lips, "Well, Y/n, what now? I like to come here alone too,"

If someone had told you a peacekeeper would accompany you through your days in the Meadow, you would laugh into their face. There was no way. But Coriolanus turned out to be different. He started to talk to you about how it was in the Capitol. You started to teach him how to survive in the wild.

"Don't eat that!" you scolded him once as you walked through the trees, hiding from the hot flames of the sun's beams. "That's nightlock! You could be dead in a minute," you found yourself screaming, smearing the juice of the berries on his hands, trying to get rid of the deadly fruit.

"I... didn't know. They looked like the berries you showed me the other day," he said, stunned, staring at the dark purple on his hands.

"They do, but they are not. Let's get you cleaned," you grabbed his hand, the paint smearing your hand too. You dragged him deeper into the woods, the trees thickening. But they were no escape from the hotness now, its source coming from your hands intertwined together, his piercing gaze burning the tips of your ears.

You soon found out you were drawn closer to the convicted ex-citizen of Capitol, and he was too, something you never imagined, even in your wildest dreams.

"If you could be anywhere but here, where would you go?" he asked you once, his curious eyes watching you. "I would just disappear to the woods," you hummed. You didn't notice his subtle smile dropping. "What about you?" you asked Coriolanus, taking in his strong features in the setting sun. The orange brought a bit of warmth into his usually cold stare.

"Woods sound nice. But I don't think it's my forte," he mumbled, his eyes already stuck on you. "I will have to be careful about the nightlock. And what would I do when you leave?" his fingers crept up your neck, sending shivers through you, but you let him, wondering how far they would dare to go.

"You could come. I would have shown you everything," you found yourself whispering once again, but he could hear you.

"I think with you I could," he whispered back, the breeze bringing his voice to you before it was locked between your lips, moving against each other, dancing like the leaves in the wind. There was no more Lucy Grey on his mind, and maybe he was actually willing to throw away his Capitol dream for a time in the woods with you. Because he didn't think he had a shot at coming back to the Capitol.

After a while, Coriolanus brought a friend of his, Sejanus. And although you found yourself a bit bitter about it, he started to become your company more and more by day. But he also started to grow closer to your heart.

"What would you do if you could go anywhere you wanted to, Sejanus?" you asked in the middle of the night, hanging from the tree as Sejanus looked up at you.

"I would go see my parents," he spoke softly. And then he added, "I can't visit them and I wish I could. But it's okay. I am fine with where I am right now, as long as I am free from the Capitol,"

Your eyes darted to the blond but Coryo just laughed.

Sejanus didn't.

Coriolanus leaned himself against the wooden cage full of birds they came to catch. You couldn't remember the name, but he told you they were mutts, destroying nature, creating mutations.

"We will run," Sejanus started. A silence fell upon you three. Then a subtle click sounded in the air and Sejanus continued. "I spoke with some people from the district. We will rescue Lil and escape through the loose fence," Again, all of you fell silent. Your heartbeat rose. "What?" you whispered to the night but Coryo cut you off. "You won't survive a minute there, Sejanus, you're from Capitol-"

"I'm a good shot," you watched Sejanus turn to Coriolanus, both their glances determined to convince the other. A good shot. You thought, soon enough realising. The rebels have guns.

"Why are you saying this?" Coriolanus asked out loud, his voice cold.

"It's us, together, remember? You are my friend," you watched Sejanus' lips spread into what looked like a smile in the moonlight. You couldn't help but smile too. This might be your chance.

"There is a new bird in the woods. I think I saw it before, but I don't remember where," you commented on one of your casual walks with Snow a few days later. He arched his eyebrow but didn't act surprised at all. Yet, he still asked. "Really? Which one?" he said, almost uninterested, lost in his thoughts. "That one," you stopped in your tracks, making his stiff body bump into you. He hissed before looking up, his fingers unconsciously wrapping around your wrist.

"Oh, you mean Jabberjays?" he whispered, making you gasp. You found yourself backed up against the tree trunk, your left wrist pinned against the hard bark, Coryo's hand already on your collarbone, slowly sneaking up your neck like a snake. Your right hand automatically fell on his hip.

"Yes, Jabberjays," you repeated, your face brightening, hearing something click. Suddenly, your voice spread through the air, repeating the same word billions of times. "We were here to capture them, remember?" Coryo spoke through the mimic of your voice, so similar, you almost thought your mouth must have kept on going. Your hand travelled to his arm, and down to his fingers, holding something. You hugged his hand in yours slowly picking it up, while withholding eye contact, his bright blue eyes sending cold down your body as usual.

"And this is how you set them off, right?" his fingers let go of the device under the touch of your fingers. "This is what they used during the revolution," your voice was now all quiet as you turned the device off. "They used it to spy on people,"

"On rebels," Coryo nodded, drawing closer.

"Are they spying on us now?" you looked up, stopping him with your gaze. He looked up, staring at you intently, switching between your eyes and lips.

"Could they hear about our escape?" and before you could ask anything else, his lips were on yours once again, their warmth contrasting to his always freezing gaze. His hand around your neck, becoming tighter with every graze, his movements more passionate.

"Coryo," you breathed. He smirked at the nickname but didn't answer and shut you up with more kisses. "Coriolanus," you tried again but to no avail. "Coriolanus Snow," you finally spoke out loud, making him groan.

"You need to go," he frowned at your statement. "Duty calls?" you smiled a bit at his state, his eyes widening as he realised he was about to be late. "See you by the tree," were the words he spoke before he rushed out of the woods. Leaving you alone, with the small device still in your hand.

You waited. You waited for days, but there was no sign of Coriolanus nor Sejanus. You almost forgot how it was to spend your days alone, sitting in the crown of the tree, your only company the birds flying around. Suddenly you took notice of the Jabberjays and Mockingjays, spending your time saying something, making Jabberjays say it back and watching as the Mockingjays repeated the intonation of your voice.

But after a few hours, you couldn't keep on going. You found it foreign and scary, how well the Jabberjays repeated what you wanted them to. Their eyes were empty, looking almost pointless when they didn't have anything to repeat. But one day, there were no Jays to keep you company. There was no sun, no breeze. Just silence. Everywhere.

You found it disturbing. For the first time in your life, you willingly made your way to the centre of District 12. But you found it empty just the same. Except for the square by the hanging tree. And then you realised.

You wanted to run away badly, kept ordering your feet to turn around and flee, knowing you were never the type to digest the hanging. But you didn't stop, no, you kept going until you arrived, standing in the audience on one of the stairs above the crowd, your eyes darting to the boy standing under one of the branches. His dark eyes screamed in fear with dark messy curls falling into them, occasionally silencing his already silent pleads. Your stomach turned. Sejanus.

But why? Why would they hang him? He was a peacekeeper, he did his job well. The only thing you knew was unpopular with the peacekeepers, was befriending the district's citizens. But they all did, they were all poor just the same.

There was a woman on the other side of the tree. You recognised her. Her husband was hanged a while ago, you heard. Her name was Lil? One of the rebels. And you started to understand.

You found Coryo pretty quickly. After all, he was standing right under the tree. Gun in his hand. His eyes trained somewhere in the distance. At you. Coriolanus Snow kept his composure, not an ounce of expression on his face. How could he stand there? Without moving? How could he not protest against the death of his friend? Wasn't he, too, supposed to run away with them? Run away...

You were brought back to the night Sejanus told him about the plan. There was a click, a cage full of birds you couldn't remember, until Coriolanus told you days later, that Jabberjays, they are able to copy exactly what you say if you use the device to record. The device you held in your hand, tied to the birds sitting on the tree.

Peacekeepers keeping peace under it with two rebels about to be hung. Jabberjays and Mockingjays, all together, one created by Capitol, the other by the district. Your fingers moved in your pocket, you heard the click as a thick rope was thrown over Sejanus' throat.

"No!" he yelled out. "Ma! No, please, Ma! Help me Ma!" his screams filled the air, sending shivers of terror down everyone's spine. Except Coriolanus Snow, who didn't move, his eyes stuck on you, your hand, the black device in it. Small tears formed in his eyes as the sound of rope tightening filled the air, the sound of wood falling to the lower platform, Sejanus' screams never falling silent, filling the branches above his head.

The Jabberjays screamed, the Mockingjays mocking them and with the return of the wind, you were gone, away from the district, away from the lonesome tree, away from Coriolanus Snow, away from the device created by Capitol.

♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️

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dark-elf-writes · 1 year ago

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We all agree that I have too many au’s right? Right?

So anyway the bodyguard thing I was talking about yesterday has grown legs and won’t leave me alone.

Pushing the timeline back a fair amount so Cloud is eighteen when he gets to Midgar and already has a solid amount of experience under his belt just from random odd jobs/monster hunting/traveling. And sometime in his odyssey to Midgar the president dies and Rufus takes over.

Now Rufus has a choice for how he can run the company and he decides the most annoying way to his father’s legacy that would still put him in a good light with the public would be to go for the family company route, meaning all the known bastards (*coughlazardcough*) are recognized and paternity tests for any suspiciously blond perspective employees become the norm.

And Cloud is immediately flagged as a possible Shinra when he eventually shows up.

A quick paternity test and not so quick total meltdown later and Cloud is presented with his new future whether he likes it or not.

Because there is no way any Shinra could be treated as someone lesser (and because Rufus would eat his own gun before he let the science department and Hojo specifically get their hands on any Shinra test subjects) Cloud can’t be in SOLDIER. But they also… don’t really know what to do with him.

He is treated as the public darling as he is the youngest Shinra Bastard currently known and he at least looks far more innocent than any of his half siblings, but other than letting him roam the Shinra building and occasionally finding him lurking in the garages tinkering with whatever motorcycles he can get his hands on there’s no real… place for him.

And then he barges into Rufus’ office with proof that Palmer is embezzling funds gained through his budding friendship with several of the engineers in the space department who took a liking to him after seeing him covered in engine grease with those big wide eyes that really couldn’t mean any harm, and Rufus realizes he is sitting on a gold mine.

Cloud is as close to a common man as any Shinra could be, has the youthful innocence look down, and is ruthless enough to offer up the head of a department on a silver platter to his older brother because and he quotes “I mean if he’s stealing from you then he’s stealing from me”

So Rufus sets Cloud to be his spy inside the company to uncover where the problems are from the bottom up undercover boss style.

The only problem?

Cloud will be gaining enemies fast once changes start rolling out and he has slipped every bodyguard he has put in the kid up to and including his Turks, and there is no way in hell he is going to assign the kid Tseng who is his.

So Rufus has to look for bodyguards elsewhere who are strong, fast, and smart enough to keep up with Cloud but who also won’t get in the way of his spying.

Enter Kunsel. Who is all but running a spy network of his own, has the enhancements to keep up with Cloud when he’s in his moods, and somehow has earned the kids loyalty after one afternoon spent in a training room.

Surely with a SOLDIER assigned to him Cloud can’t get into too much trouble right? Right?!!

#the elf talks #ff7 #just cloud bothering his brothers vibing. with reeve and engaging in a healthy dose of corporate espionage

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the-faramir · 11 months ago

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Extinction Curse Session 2024/06/05 Part 2

The Siege of Willowside

Day 3 (Part 1)

The next morning, the adventurers ate their meager breakfast before starting the day. Lysander ate nothing and Midori only drank black coffee. As they finished, the mayor approached them.

“I hate to ask for more help when you just got back from looking into Fortune’s Hall, but since you’re trapped in town until we fight off these xulgaths, I imagine it’s in your best interest as well. We need your help dealing with the xulgaths, but first, we need the Banyan Boys back. There are these caves underneath the town that have been here since before the town was built, and there’s an entrance in the basement of the general store. Some old documents from the town’s founding indicate that those caves were important, but I’m not sure why. A lot of stuff from that time is gone. Local legend has it that the town’s founders might have left something special down there in case of emergencies. Well, if this doesn’t count as an emergency, nothing does. The Banyan Boys went down there, and they should have been back by now. I worry that something happened to them. Can you go look for them? They’re our town’s best protectors.”

"The Vengaboys?" Midori asked.

Zookdar put a hand on Midori's shoulder to gently stop her. "No, we're not doing that bit again." He looked at the mayor. "Yes. We'll go down into your dungeon and rescue your Banyan Boys."

"Dungeon?" Midori's expression grew worried, "There's not butter on the walls, is there?" Lysander sighed and shook his head at her.

One of the townsfolk led the group through the general store to the basement. They entered the storeroom that the owner frequently used, seeing several crates labeled "Cozurn's General Store" in neat lettering and a closed door on the opposite side. An open padlock with the key still in its keyhole hung on the door's handle.

The adventurers opened the door and moved forward into the next storage room, looking as if it had not been used in decades. The boxes, crates, and scattered barstools all sat covered in a thick layer of dust. Zookdar, having darkvision, took the lead. Midori followed, and Lysander and Buffy brought up the rear, closing the door behind them.

To the north was a broken door. To the west was a stairway leading down. Zookdar saw footprints in the dust leading down the stairs, but one set of footprints heading toward the room to the north and back. He remarked that the footprints leading downward appeared to have been hurried. "I wonder why they took off in such a rush?"

Suddenly, a slick, oily slithering sound came from the room to the north. Four waxy blob-like oozes, pale yellow and smelling of old beef tallow, approached the party in a line.

"We've got company!" Zookdar warned the party. He raised his shield, rushed the attackers with a battle cry, and attacked with his gnome flickmace. His target began to ooze a greasy seepage and he had to check himself to maintain his balance in the slippery pool.

"Greasy seepage?" Midori exclaimed. "What are these, Olestra monsters?" She prepared an impromptu song to inspire courage:

🎶🎶🎶 Greasy Seepage, slipping through the cracks, Ooze and slide, no turning back. Gleaming slick and slithery, It’s a trick, it’s a mystery! 🎶🎶🎶

She followed up by launching a telekinetic projectile at the lead ooze, hitting it.

Lysander cast a spell to slow the oozes and fired at one with his hex blaster gun.

One of the oozes lashed out at Zookdar with a pseudopod, hitting him and making him slicker with oily slime. He grumbled in disgust.

Midori shouted out to Zookdar, "Hey, I thought you liked bein' covered with grease!"

Zookdar called out for help, "Cleanse me of my grease, Buffy!" But Buffy had no spells to help with the cleansing. Instead, she cast a rallying banner to take the place of Midori's inspirational songs, freeing her up for more useful actions.

Another ooze moved up and attacked Midori. A third attacked Zookdar.

Midori yelled to Zookdar, "With all o' this greasy seepage, watch out for loose stools!"

Zookdar shot back, "Don't be disgusting, Midori! This is serious!"

"I am being serious," she replied. "Those barstools are all over the place. Don't trip!" Midori followed up with a rapier strike on her closest opponent, not damaging it at all. "Uh-oh. Stabby-stabbing won't hurt 'em! Watch your attacks, everyone!" She hit her target with a telekinetic projectile. "Bludgeoning. Maybe fire? Anyone got a fireball? Or should I have Orbison release a poison cloud?"

Lysander shouted at Midori, "Enclosed space! Bad idea!"

She snapped back, "You know I'm just kiddin'!"

Another ooze rose up to engulf Zookdar, covering him in more oily residue. "I am more grease than gnome at this point!" he lamented.

The battle stretched on for much longer than the heroes would have liked. Fortunately, the oozes were not difficult to hit, only difficult to damage. Eventually, Buffy finished off the last of the foes with a telekinetic projectile.

Searching the area, Zookdar found a battered greave etched with a powerful greater resilient rune, some empty silver vials, and a platinum charm depicting a lizard with three tails.

Asking first to make sure nobody else needed the rune more urgently, Midori detached the rune from the greave and added it to her own armor. "Hoo, boy, did I need that boost!"

Midori took the time to patch up everybody's wounds. The heroes cleaned themselves up from any remaining oily residue.

Once everyone had finished, Zookdar looked down the stairwell and remarked, "The stairway looks clear. Shall we, then?"

(Text in blue belongs to Paizo.)

#pathfinder #pf2e #extinction curse #gaming session

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vermilionstarlight · 2 years ago

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It's a fundamental part of capitalism, this is a feature. Not a bug. A company that makes more profit is able to invest more in facilities, more in worker training, more in publicity and advertising, more in new locations, more in vertical integration. Companies that have more of these shiny features will then make even MORE profit, which can then be invested further in such things, to make even MORE profit, ad infinitum.

Money begets money, leading to exponential growth on the part of the capitalist. This means that on a long enough timescale, the one with the most profit comes out on top. The other corp in your industry having higher profit margins than you is one of the biggest fears of a capitalist. Corporations and those that are in charge of them are explicitly incentivised to generate as much profit as possible, because if they don't, then the more ruthless guy with more profit will undercut their prices, purchase land in key locations, advertise better and more often than them, etcetera etcetera.

It's the same fundamental concept behind ACAB. Yeah, good people who are conscious of their responsibility to help people, and are self aware of their inherent biases, and take action to counteract them, WILL sign up to be police officers. In the same way that kind, compassionate people with consideration and care for others WILL try to become businesspeople. But the system in which they operate will select them out. Good people that end up as cops are fired or discharged when they whistleblow. Good people that end up as business owners will be muscled out by the competition that artificially controls the economy to their benefit and isn't queasy at the thought of using unsafe working conditions, obscene hours, and child labor.

It's a fundamental flaw in capitalism, the natural funneling of money upwards, and the exponential way in which it does so. Individual ownership of private property allows for business owners and land owners to engage in a sick little rat race at the expense of all of the spectators. And no amount of regulation is gonna stop it. Even if you try to bring back the so-called "good old days" where work regulations were solid and you could afford college and a house as an average person, they're always gonna pull another Reagan. Money accumulates, hands are greased, political campaigns are funded, education is slowly defunded, propaganda is disseminated, lies are spread, and suddenly you have another hyper-conservative, laissez-faire political party controlling your country that rolls back all those lovely regulations, while tricking most of the people into thinking it's a good thing.

So long as political and economic power lies in the hands of the few rather than the many, and so long as individuals are allowed to exponentially accumulate wealth all on their lonesome, we are doomed to the fate we have now. The only way to escape it is to stop repeating history and change the system with which we operate.

No capitalist is ever going to stop gunning for the biggest profit possible, because if they do, they lose. They get kicked out of the rat race, and become a spectator. Because every other capitalist is ALSO gunning for the most profit, meaning they'll get overtaken incredibly fast if they falter for even a moment. If every capitalist simultaneously stopped going for maximum profit? Yeah I can see it happening. But no individual is gonna break away from the game. Or, so few individuals will break away that it's negligible.

companies really have got to be okay with stagnant profits. what is wrong with earning the same amount every year? why does it always have to be more? it's not sustainable. there are only so many people on the planet you can profit from 😭

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atselgi · 9 months ago

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Elevating Automotive Performance: The Rising Trend of Welding Aluminum Parts

INCREASING TREND OF WELDING ALUMINIUM PARTS IN AUTOMOTIVE INDUSTRY

In the automobile sector, aluminium is becoming more and more popular as a way to improve vehicle fuel efficiency and better comply with industry rules. As a result, the demand for welding aluminium parts in the automotive industry is increasing.

The automotive sector most commonly uses welding, heat-bonding, and glueing procedures to attach aluminium pieces. Conventional welding of aluminium alloys poses no significant technological or managerial challenges. There are no issues when making high-quality aluminium joints with traditional, less-efficient slag-free welding techniques.

Welding using a coated electrode, on the other hand, does not provide adequate weld quality, as porous structures with a cracking tendency arise. As a result, welding with coated electrodes is used sparingly and on minor structural components. Refer (Fig.1).

The most popular non-slag welding processes used on the industrial scale are TIG and MIG methods.

Fig.1 – Welding Al parts

MIG Welding

MIG welding, short for Metal Inert Gas welding, is a popular welding procedure that joins metal components using a continuously fed wire electrode and a shielding gas. It is appropriate for a wide range of applications in the automotive, construction, and industrial industries due to its high efficiency, adaptability, and ease of use. MIG welding delivers clean and exact welds, requiring less cleanup. Welders can produce varying penetration depths and weld bead profiles by adjusting the wire feed speed and voltage. Overall, MIG welding is popular due to its speed, quality, and versatility in a variety of metalworking operations.

Tips to help ensure success in welding aluminium parts

Welding fresh aluminium can be difficult even for seasoned welders. Repair welding on aluminium on a vehicle that has been exposed to dirt, mud, gravel, and other contaminants can be even more difficult.

Proper cleaning, training, and the use of aluminum-specific welding equipment and consumables are crucial for success in aluminium vehicle repair applications.

Frame welded with the MIG method

The advantages of MIG welding method are as follows:

Universality – the ability to weld all metals in all positions

High welding efficiency – higher from coated electrodes and TIG method

Relatively low cost of welding consumables

High quality of welds and

Possibility to automate the method

Auto body businesses should also invest in modern welding equipment made exclusively for aluminium.

A system designed for aluminium

Many manufacturers offer systems or welding packages designed to function together when selecting welding equipment and consumables for aluminium welding. The power supply, cable, gun, and other consumables, such as the nozzle, contact tip, and liner, are included in these bundles.

These packages are intended to be a turnkey welding solution, which is especially useful for those with less expertise welding aluminium. These systems simplify setup, have simple interfaces, and provide consistent arc performance, making it easier to carry out excellent repairs.

Another method auto body companies can prepare for the transition to aluminium welding is to learn aluminium cleaning processes. It is critical to clean the material as thoroughly as possible and to remove the coating of aluminium oxide on the material’s surface. This could make fixing vehicles that have been on the road difficult since dirt and gravel can become embedded in the base material. Greater care and attention to detail will be required during the cleaning procedure.

When cleaning, technicians or welding operators must first remove grease or other contaminants with a solvent such as acetone. Then, prior to welding, use a stainless-steel brush to remove the aluminium oxide.

Conclusion

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References

https://www.ecotechsystems.net/the-importance-of-paint-booth-filters-maintenance https://www.taffguard.com/our-filter-blog/paint-filtration.

Lakshman, S. & Rajeshwar, S. & Naveen, K.S. & Davinder S., & Pargat S. An Evaluation of TIG Welding Parametric Influence on Tensile Strength of 5083 Aluminium Alloy. International Scholarly and Scientific Research and Innovation. 2013. Vol. 7. P. 99-107.

Yao, L. & Wenjing, W. & Jijia, X. & Shouguang, S & Liang, W. & Yuan, M. & Yujii, W. Microstructure and mechanical properties of aluminium 5083 weldments by gas tungsten arc and gas metal arc welding. Materials Science Engineering. 2012. Vol. 549. P. 7-13.

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chinaluda · 2 years ago

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　　What are the features, advantages, and applications of a double cylinder hand grease gun?

　　The double cylinder hand grease gun stands as a testament to innovation in the realm of lubrication technology, offering a reliable and efficient solution for industrial and automotive maintenance. This specialized tool, equipped with two cylinders, enhances the precision and ease of lubricating machinery and equipment.

　　Features of Double Cylinder Hand Grease Gun:

　　1. Enhanced Pressure: The presence of two cylinders in the grease gun allows for increased pressure during operation. This elevated pressure ensures that lubricating grease is dispensed with force, effectively reaching intricate parts of machinery, such as bearings and joints, even in high-friction environments.

　　2. Dual Piston Design: The double cylinder configuration often incorporates a dual piston design, enabling a continuous flow of grease without interruptions. This design minimizes the chances of air pockets or gaps in lubrication, ensuring consistent and thorough application of grease.

　　3. High Volume Output: Double cylinder hand grease guns typically have a higher volume output compared to single cylinder counterparts. This high-volume output is especially beneficial for lubricating large machinery or multiple components, allowing for efficient coverage and reducing the time needed for maintenance tasks.

　　4. Durability and Longevity: These grease guns are constructed with durable materials, including robust metal alloys, ensuring longevity and resilience even in demanding industrial environments. The sturdy construction enhances the tool’s lifespan, making it a reliable choice for long-term use.

　　Advantages of Double Cylinder Hand Grease Gun:

　　1. Precise Lubrication: The dual cylinder design provides precise control over the amount of grease dispensed. This precision is crucial in applications where over-greasing or under-greasing can lead to mechanical issues. The ability to regulate the lubrication process ensures optimal performance of bearings, gears, and other moving parts.

　　2. Time and Labor Efficiency: The higher volume output and consistent grease flow of double cylinder hand grease guns lead to time and labor efficiency. Lubrication tasks that might require multiple passes with a single cylinder grease gun can be accomplished swiftly and effectively with a double cylinder model, reducing downtime and increasing productivity.

　　3. Versatility: Double cylinder hand grease guns are versatile tools suitable for various applications, including automotive, industrial machinery, agricultural equipment, and construction machinery. Their adaptability makes them indispensable in diverse settings, catering to the lubrication needs of different sectors.

　　4. Reduced Maintenance Costs: Ensuring proper lubrication with a double cylinder hand grease gun can significantly reduce maintenance costs in the long run. Well-lubricated machinery experiences less friction and wear, leading to extended component life and minimized repair or replacement expenses.

　　Applications of Double Cylinder Hand Grease Gun:

　　1. Automotive Maintenance: In the automotive industry, double cylinder hand grease guns are employed to lubricate critical components such as ball joints, tie rod ends, and chassis fittings. Proper lubrication enhances the vehicle's performance, ensures smooth operation, and prolongs the lifespan of these parts.

　　2. Industrial Machinery: Industries rely on double cylinder hand grease guns to lubricate heavy machinery, conveyor systems, bearings, and gears. Regular maintenance with these guns prevents friction-related issues, reduces downtime, and extends the operational life of industrial equipment.

　　3. Agricultural Equipment: Agricultural machinery, including tractors, harvesters, and tillers, often operates in harsh conditions. Double cylinder grease guns are used to lubricate pivot points, joints, and other moving parts, ensuring the equipment functions optimally, even in challenging agricultural environments.

　　4. Construction Machinery: Construction equipment such as excavators, loaders, and cranes undergo intense wear and tear. Double cylinder hand grease guns are essential for lubricating pins, bushings, and hydraulic components, contributing to the reliability and longevity of construction machinery.

　　In summary, the double cylinder hand grease gun stands as a powerful and efficient tool in the realm of industrial and automotive maintenance. Its features, advantages, and versatile applications make it a reliable choice for ensuring the optimal performance and longevity of machinery and equipment. By providing precise lubrication, enhancing time and labor efficiency, and reducing maintenance costs, these grease guns play a pivotal role in the smooth operation of various mechanical systems. Whether in automotive garages, industrial facilities, agricultural fields, or construction sites, the double cylinder hand grease gun manufacturer is a trusted companion, ensuring the seamless functioning of vital machinery and contributing to the overall efficiency of diverse industries.

#High Quality Double cylinder hand grease gun #Double cylinder hand grease gun Manufacturers #Double cylinder hand grease gun Company

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littleapocalypsekitten · 11 months ago

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Okay, there is something I've wanted to get off my chest for a few days now... and my therapist has already heard it all. Warning: This is political. Warning: This will unveil a part of the Shadsie Lore that may make some of you unfollow me or even block me. I do not care. I thought "I shouldn't talk about this on the Internet, even on a place unconnected to my real name" until this article just slapped me in the face and told me that I needed to talk about it:

Ex-Felons Responding to the Trump Verdict I spent a chunk of my high school years visiting my brother in prison, where he served just shy of 4 years for an incident that he is lucky to have survived - he's white, he was arrested by sleepy-desert-town country cops who like the guards of Whiterun in Skyrim mostly deal with drunken brawls and petty thievery and weren't as trigger-happy as the city-cops. Knowing his stories, I know that the American prison system needs reformation badly, as it doesn't rehabilitate people so much as just give them a lot of trauma and, in some cases, makes them worse. And then... came time... Crime Time... for me. *Sad, scared little squeak talking about this.*

So, I did something that I am not proud of damn near 20 years ago. I will not elaborate save to say that: 1. A single felony and associated misdemeanours 2. No one was (physically) harmed 3. It was related to my mental health and how I got a diagnosis. 4. I served no time. 5. I was railroaded into a plea deal - I was contrite and fully confessed to the misdemeanours, but thought that the more serious charge that the DA wanted to pin on me was going overboard. 6. I felt like I couldn't win if it went to trial with only a public defender in my corner and so pleaded to the greater charge in exchange for serving probation. 7. I served 2 years of probation and it amuses me to this day that they gave me an officer who was pregnant. She had to give me over to another officer when she went to have her baby. I asked how she and the baby were and like to joke that I must have been one of the county's nicest criminals for them to give me a probation officer in a delicate condition. 8. This happened almost 20 years ago and it messes up my life to this day. It kept me from getting a job I wanted. (Thankfully I recently got a job with a company that doesn't look further than 7 years back). 9. Having had my record brought to my attention, I researched pardoning and gathered materials and sent off a package to petition my governor. At the speed of bureaucracy I expect to hear back about the initial filing process, let alone getting a hearing, *looks at watch and taps foot* oh, about when Pangea Ultima forms and the world has been taken over by the descendants of squids. Anyway, I've had mixed feelings all this week. On one hand, I'm elated - for once, the GREASED HOG HAS BEEN CAUGHT ON SOMETHING! Always nice to see the rich and powerful get some kind of censure, if not full justice. On the other hand, I see a lot of people online talking about felons not having rights and not having dignity and so forth - you know, the stigmas. Personally, I am never going to run for President, I do not think I would do well with a position of power and have no desire for it. In fact, I am skeptical of the morals of anyone who wants a lot of power. I am an anxious type who'd constantly worry about messing up people's lives on accident. I certainly could not do the President-thing of ordering war-actions (because my personal hero is Vash the Stampede... "thou shall not kill"). And, despite my favorite anime being Trigun and my love of playing Fallout... I don't want anything to do with guns in real life, so no worries on the gun-ownership thing. I live in a state that allows ex-felons to vote so long as they've served their time/probation. I may want to move to a state in the future where I am not sure that is allowed to be with family (One of my reasons for seeking a pardon). Between my brother and me, I am VERY concerned with the human rights and civil rights of repentant ex-cons and of those people in the prison / legal system. That said: Mr. Trump is NOT "one of us." He is a rich (or at least bluffs his way) and powerful and is being treated with the softest of kid gloves. (If I had pulled the threats and outbursts that he had in the courtroom during my hearings, I would have been jailed). I was silent, spoke only when spoken to. He'll never want for a job or money as even if he's more broke than he lets on, he has his slathering minions who send him millions of dollars in a day. He'll never have to rely on a public defender (as passionate and dedicated as they are, they are overloaded and not well listened to in the court system) - he'll always have excellent monied lawyers. I enjoy the HELL out of the idea that he's going to have a probation officer, but I do not think it will humble him. Covid, after all, didn't give him the impression of being a mere mortal man. If anything, this trial, even this conviction, highlights the disparities in the American legal system for me.

#donald trump #trump trial #trump hush money trial #trump hush money conviction #trump election interference conviction #american justice system #american legal system #ex-felons #felons' rights #disparities in the american justice system #article link

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senor-plume · 1 year ago

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No More (at all)

In bed without a Single rose On crisp sheets An open window And a million young dreams That haunts me Like the fruit-nosed monster From my youthful nights Tossing and turning Surrounded by Posters and record albums

But tonight I am keeping company With the television on …Loud… And cleaning my Civil War era Rifle with a waxy rub And elbow grease From an arm built up From many nights Masturbating vigorously …Getting off from age’s 12 to 43

The movie arrives back on my screen After a few minutes of loud commercials That drained my faith in humanity And this flick is not going to Save me from Any old polished gun Or Lack of happiness So, I grab the shells And place one in the chamber Simply for the hell of it

I miss my youthful days With the unbridled joy Of simply holding Linda’s hand As we walk slowly down Riverside Drive On our way to school …With me higher than a kite And she Straight as an arrow And so very beautiful that I find it bewildering that She choose me To be her first lover

And man were we ever happy

But tonight (As I stroke away stains) She is gone From this planet

No more tapes to make her No more books to share No more late night phone calls

No more Linda At all

I think about her now And I place the greasy rag On the end table Next to my bed And kill the TV with a Single shot to the Middle Of the screen

And I feel much better So I rise and place the rifle Back under the bed Wrapped up in a thick cozy blanket And I switch off the light Wondering if the nightmares will haunt me again With the crispy cold air Coming in under the window pane And I feel like I can live forever As I breathe in the February frost And simply drift off To the land of Banana Nosed Creatures And they do not frighten me any more In fact I’ll take anything over the nightmares of Lin and the cancer that ate her young body whole

I sent her no flowers

Tomorrow will arrive Like a cannonball to the gut And I’ll have no choice but to Start all over again

And I will survive this life For as long as I can In tribute

The gun is just there To remind me That for the time being I Am In charge

And it’s a fine feeling As I run about In my dream Chased by the monster With his weird facial features And long red pepper fingers He’s been chasing me for ages now And he will catch me at some point But not tonight As the moon outside Does its cheesy thing Up there in the sky While Linda waits for me Cool and casual Like the young girl that she once was By her locker With one hand in her back pocket And the other around the Back of my neck As she pulls me in For a between class kiss

She’s missed She’s missed

As I will be someday But not Anytime too soon

I have so much more Suffering to go

#tumblr poetry #poetry #alt lit #tumblr poets #creative writing poetry #poets on tumblr

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casspurrjoybell-27 · 2 years ago

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Claimed by the Beast - Chapter 25a

*Warning Adult Content*

One Taste - Part 1

- Knox -

While the clubhouse buzzes with activity, Knox is crouched beside his motorcycle meticulously cleaning each component with precision and care.

It's a cathartic process that offers him respite from his dark thoughts.

He works his way from the handlebars, with their worn grips that have served him well on countless rides, down to the chrome exhaust pipes.

When he examines the brake calipers, he makes a mental note to get online tonight to look for an upgrade, perhaps something with more stopping power.

He's been meaning to make a few improvements to his ride but time hasn't been on his side as of late.

Too many fires to put out.

Too many Jackals to track down and kill.

With a heavy sigh, Knox reaches for a new rag and some cleaning solution to work on the gas tank.

The sun reflects off the glossy surface within seconds, a gentle reminder that he only has a few hours left to take advantage of today's good weather.

The smell of the hamburgers and ribs sizzling on the grill drifts through the air and all around the massive backyard, merging with the pungent scents of whiskey and cigarette smoke.

Loud rock music blasts from the speakers that have been set up but even that isn't enough to drown out Alvin.

Knox looks up when another round of laughter erupts from the group of men seated at the largest wooden picnic table.

Alvin is standing on his seat, his hands flailing animatedly as he tells yet another outlandish story, this time, it involves him getting chased naked down a street by the gun-toting husband of a woman he was caught fucking.

Instead of it being a member of a rival gang, most of Alvin's brushes with death were a result of him messing around with women that he should've left alone.

Knox can't help but chuckle at his brother, shaking his head in amused disbelief.

He gets back to work and wipes the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand, leaving a grease stain on his tanned skin before tightening a bolt he noticed was loose.

It isn't long before his eyes wander over to Everett, who is doing his best to annoy Finn by critiquing his grilling skills.

The tension between the two men is still there, Knox can feel it from almost fifty feet away but at least now whenever they look at each other, Everett's eyes hold less of a murderous glare.

Unlike Josie, Knox has acknowledged the possibility that Finn and Everett may never become friends.

Considering the painful history that lies between them, Finn being responsible for Shaun's death which later put a target on Everett's back, Knox has no reason to try to push them together.

He's more than content seeing them play nice in front of his brothers and the other guests.

"Of course I'd find you over here by this damn shed scrubbing away on that bike."

Gavin appears with a blunt in one hand and a cold beer in the other.

He offers the beer to Knox.

"You always gotta be doing something, don't you? Can't ever just stop and smell the grass like the rest of us."

"It's stop and smell the roses, you jackass," Knox laughs.

He stands and accepts the drink, twisting off the cap with ease before taking a long swig.

The amber liquid soothes his dry throat and he welcomes the slight burn that it leaves behind, a hint of warmth spreading throughout his chest.

It's been a while since The Fallen Angels had a gathering like this, one that didn't involve them sitting around a table in a dark room as they plotted ways to eliminate their enemies.

Gavin felt it was necessary to have a cookout this evening, which many viewed as a welcome distraction from the mounting tension that continues to grow between The Fallen Angels and The Jackals.

Just a few hours of simple, harmless fun with good food, good music and good company.

Absolutely nothing that involves hunting down and killing anyone.

No reckless shootouts.

No playing the torturer and getting someone to break.

No wondering if the next breath he takes will be his last.

Knox isn't complaining about the cookout because he's long overdue for a fucking break.

"I'm surprised Josie hasn't balled you out for that," Knox says, referencing the joint Gavin is puffing on. "Bold of you to test her patience while pregnant."

"I know but she's supposed to be cutting me some slack since we're having such a chill day."

Gavin chuckles, then produces a nasty cough as smoke billows from his mouth.

"Speaking of which, you ought to be doing the same thing. That damn bike ain't going anywhere, so why are you here instead of being over there spending this time with the kid?"

Knox remains silent as his gaze drifts back to Everett and Finn.

"How're things going between you two, anyway?" Gavin asks. "You did claim him, after all. That means something, whether you want to admit it or not."

When Everett turns and catches Knox staring, he winks at him, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his tempting mouth.

Heat rushes to Knox's face and he breaks eye contact.

"We're good," Knox says, clearing his throat. "For now, at least."

"Good is better than nothing, I suppose." Gavin coughs again and they share another laugh about it as he examines the joint in his hand. "Either I'm getting old and dusty or these plants are getting stronger. I feel like a fucking teenager taking his first hit. What the hell is going on here?"

"Old and dusty sounds about right," Knox teases before changing the subject. "You get an update from Mason yet? Been a few days since the motel shit went down and he still has the owners phone. Why haven't you called for a meeting...?"

"Nope. We ain't doing that right now. Let's talk business tomorrow."

Gavin claps a hand on Knox's shoulder, pulling him in close before walking back into the heart of the party.

"We're chilling the fuck out today and that's an official order. So why don't you grab something to eat, find your boy, sit your ass down and try to enjoy yourself. It's okay to play pretend sometimes, Knox."

Knox scoffs, taking another swig of his beer.

"Play pretend like we're not one fuck up away from losing everything? Okay, sure. Let's stay delusional and get fucked while we're at it."

Gavin barks out a laugh.

"Fuck you and your shitty sarcasm, motherfucker. Just for that, I ain't telling you about how Hayes tried to make a move on the kid earlier. Oh, shit... Hold on. I just told you, didn't I? Fuck, I think I'm too high..."

"Gavin Josiah Barnes," Josie shouts from across the yard. "I swear to God if you have another joint in your hand, I'm going to kick your pale ass. You know I told you to slow down."

Gavin curses under his breath and passes the blunt to one of the men sitting at the table before sluggishly making his way over to his wife, a lazy grin stretched across his face as he yells back an apology.

Knox slams his drink down on the table and storms off in search of Everett, who is no longer standing by Finn at the grill.

Josie couldn't have been in charge of inviting people over today because if she had been, Hayes Mitchell wouldn't be here right now.

He works as a washer at The Angel's Lounge, The Fallen Angel's strip club and cleans some of the dirty money that comes in.

The kind of money that's unrelated to the bills patrons toss at the dancers who flex their skills on stage.

Not only is Hayes one of the best at what he does but he's also the biggest fucking flirt Knox has ever encountered.

The brazen fool had nearly lost his life trying to make a pass on Josie before Gavin had claimed her as his Old' lady.

Hayes' horniness knows no bounds and gender never mattered to him.

Knox is certain Hayes would fuck a brick wall if it spoke to him nicely and had a hole for his dick to go into.

"Hey. You seen Everett around?"

Knox finds Mason sitting underneath a tree with a woman on his lap and his iPad in one hand, their eyes glued to the screen.

"He was with Finn earlier by the grill, then I blinked and he fucking disappeared."

"Check the house," Mason mutters, not even bothering to make eye contact. "I think he got wet and then left to change clothes or something."

Knox's posture stiffens and his brain stutters to a halt at the word wet.

When he speaks again, his voice comes out low and rough.

"He got wet? The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Mason finally looks up to read the room when Knox kicks at his feet to get his attention.

He swallows hard and sits up straight, Knox's icy stare making him fumble over his words.

"He was standing by the, uh... the cooler getting a drink or something and then... I think I saw him talking to Hayes or maybe it was somebody else, when the football went flying in his direction and knocked his drink..."

"I heard enough. Thanks."

Knox turns on his heel and stalks toward the backdoor of the clubhouse, both hands clenched into tight fists.

His mind races with unsettling thoughts as he shoves his way through the rowdy crowd.

Of course Hayes used this opportunity to get closer to Everett, one of the few people at the cookout who Hayes hasn't shared a bed with.

Just the thought of Hayes and Everett being together right now and all alone at that, fuels a surge of possessive anger within Knox that makes him see red.

Knox isn't worried about Everett entertaining Hayes because he knows where Everett's loyalty lies.

It's Hayes who's the fucking problem.

Him and his laid-back attitude and those stupid green eyes that he works as part of his gentleman act.

Thank God Hayes' appearance leans more toward 'I Work in Corporate America than Look at Me Wrong and I'll Shoot You' because then Knox might actually have some competition to worry about, given that Everett apparently has a thing for bikers or rather, Hayes could also be considered...

'Competition to kill.'

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knockouthigh · 2 years ago

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How High Pressure Cleaning Can Improve the Curb Appeal of Your Home

High Pressure Cleaning involves the use of incredibly powerful hoses that blast surfaces clean with water jets. Water is already a prime cleaning agent but when extreme pressure is added, it becomes the ideal solution to remove heavy and baked-on dirt.

Dirty outdoor areas can not only look unattractive but also cause damage to the exterior of your home. An experienced professional outdoor high pressure cleaning company can quickly eliminate any dirt accumulations.

1. Removes Dirt

Dirt is one of the biggest culprits when it comes to reducing the beauty and curb appeal of your home. Luckily, high pressure cleaning can remove dirt from surfaces to keep them looking fresh and clean.

High-pressure drain cleaning is a popular technique for clearing blockages. It uses water to shatter clogs without the use of harsh chemicals, making it safer for your home and family.

2. Cleans Hard Surfaces

Cleaning hard surfaces with high pressure cleaners helps remove moss, grime and stuck-on stains. This can improve the appearance of driveways, pathways and parking lots.

It’s also an excellent way to clean clogged drains. Plumbing experts use a flexible hose with an adjustable nozzle to blast away the clogs. This method is proving to be the most effective when it comes to clearing blocked pipes.

3. Cleans Stairways

Stairways fulfill a representative function and must be clean and safe. Severe soiling, such as chewing gum or urine is easily removed from aluminum stairs with a battery-powered scrubber drier.

Cleaning fire escape staircases regularly can prevent slipping accidents and deterioration of the stair surface. It can also reduce health dangers, as dust can irritate airways and eyes and make existing respiratory problems worse.

4. Cleans Roof

Pressure washing is an effective way to clean your roof and remove any moss, dirt or mildew. Be sure to always use a low pressure setting to avoid damage and never point the gun directly up at the shingles!

5. Cleans Gutters

If your gutters are full of debris, you’ll want to use a high pressure washer. This is safer than climbing a ladder to clean them by hand.

Start with a low-pressure nozzle (1200 to 1500 pounds PSI) to avoid damaging the soffits and fascia. Then apply the detergent and rinse thoroughly. Be sure to avoid washing electrical fixtures like doorbells, backup generator cabinets, and power outlets.

6. Cleans Patios

Patio furniture can get pretty grimy and it’s difficult to clean by hand. But a high pressure cleaner can make short work of it in no time.

Dirty outdoor areas can harbour germs that can make you ill. High-pressure cleaning removes dirt from nooks and crannies to protect your family.

A good quality machine should have low and high pressure sprays as well as a detergent siphoning attachment for stains. Using the correct attachments will make the job easier and faster.

7. Cleans Patio Furniture

Cleaning patio furniture with a pressure washer is an easy and effective way to remove dirt, grime, and stains from outdoor furniture. This can also help to keep your furniture looking new and fresh.

It can also be used to remove rust from metal furniture. Just be sure to use a lower pressure setting. This will prevent damage to your furniture.

8. Cleans Driveways

A dirty driveway can spoil the exterior of your home or business. Routine pressure washing can remove unsightly stains caused by oil, grease, and automotive fluids.

Use a surface cleaner nozzle that produces a broad, less concentrated spray. Avoid using a red or yellow nozzle, as these create a narrower spray and are more likely to damage surfaces.

9. Cleans Fences

Fences get dirty over time with moss growth, bird droppings and baked-on stains. Using a pressure washer on your fence helps remove these items and leave you with a fresh looking fence.

A pressure washer loosens dirt and can spray it back onto your yard or plants so if you have delicate plants near your fence, covering them with a tarp is a good idea. Choose the correct nozzle and PSI setting to avoid damage to soft surfaces.

10. Cleans Decks

A pressure washer can damage your deck if used with too much force or held too close to the surface. If the nozzle tip comes into contact with wood, it can deeply etch the fibers, which can cause them to splinter. Thus you need to know how to choose the right nozzle for your pressure cleaner.

If you have a wood deck, clean it annually to keep it looking good and prevent splinters. Use the lowest pressure that cleans your deck materials gently.

#High Pressure Cleaning #high pressure cleaner #High Pressure Cleaning company

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yngai · 2 years ago

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RESIDENT EVIL 4 REMAKE « 𝘈𝘊𝘊𝘌𝘗𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘎 .

the stench of stale pizza hangs in the air, it tickles her nose in a way she knows won't go away any time soon . it amazes her jill can breathe in here, a soul closed shut from the world outside, peering from the blinders through stained glass . a proper cleaning will require she bring along a gasmask . day's old takeout scattered across every inch of the kitchen, a half eaten pie greasing the table through the carton . there must be a delivery man out there making some really good money in this district, & he shouldn't share in her horror, jill's frame covers the mess when she opens the door . she has a way of taking up the scene, even in the small hallway leading into the rest of the kitchen .

there is no reason for ada wong to occupy this space, ever since she set foot in america she felt like a puzzle piece that doesn't fit, & for as much as jill valentine echoes the catastrophe of a college frat, turning her apartment into more of a den for her to stew on her own nightmares, she is out of place too . they are women of another world that struck one another like speeding cars on the highway, an impact they won't ever forget, a pointed gun down a damp alley after a few days of an ex-cop trailing an umbrella scientist . john was such a foolish man, her name was clogging the sink of his throat while she couldn't wait to peel herself away from him . in the ruins of his failure jill had found three letters & she carried them with her mania, a dozen red strings tied around a board of circumstantial evidence . she should thank him for that, no matter how their office romance soured her tenure at NEST, that he would lead jill to her . give her the respite that neither his presence nor his obsessive letters ever could .

@goblinis : ❝ i’m not used to having such good company . ❞

she perks up, a pleasingly sweet hum sung through the noise of a sponge wiping away at a week's worth of unwashed dishes . ada can't abide all that jill has become, she knows how easy it is to let yourself go when you have nothing to hang onto . hong kong is a thousand miles away & forever changed in her absence . she can't return home, not before her job is finished & there's dread sneaking into her resolve, that when this is over her resume will be bookended with a final note, that she has become a liability . ada can't allow jill to turn her own home into her reflection, to stare at yourself so deeply is to become distorted in what you are not .

“ an indictment of your fellow officers, or are you trying to butter me up, hm ? ” a smile flashed to the corner of the room, where jill leans, at the edge of her vision she could see jill content to watch her play domestic . so much for sharing intel, everything ada smuggles out of the lab would get lost in the mess . “ gonna give me a hand ? you've been eyeing me all night . ”

either way, ada doesn't quite seem to mind .

#goblinis #* file // : 1998 — ( 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋 𝟐 . )#ada vc: i'm only doing your dishes because i wanna motivate you to clean up the rest of your apartment #we can't work in this jill #there's no other reason i'm doing this

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pyreticeclipse · 7 months ago

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slums-tactician it's different for biggs ; he's not sure he could imagine himself living topside again. he's gotten used to the smells and the sounds, the artificial light and the heat. even if he's never been a fan of the dirt and the clutter, he can keep himself busy cleaning up the Slums one patch of dirt at a time — the upper plate has nothing for him anymore. maybe it never did ; he'd certainly never felt it there. he sits back down at his work bench, using an already grease-stained rag to wipe off what remains of the gun oil, and then begins slotting the pieces of his gun back together with practiced, methodical movements. " i get that — i was probably going to hit the scrapyard tonight when the majority of people are asleep. do a couple rounds. " should he sleep? probably. will he? no.

Leaning forward, she watches him with keen interest. Everything she's ever gotten to know about guns, which is... Mind you, very little... She learned from Biggs, and the other members of his AVALANCHE cell. By no means was it a topic she was knowledgeable about, but she still managed to be quite attentive whenever she saw him work.

"If you're going, maybe I could tag along? If you're okay with it, I mean."

Now, if you'd asked her years ago, this wasn't something she might've asked. Always a dainty, pretty little thing, like some well kept doll. But her new life changed her a bit, in the years she'd been down here. While she wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty, one thing that would never change is her eagerness to lend a hand. Besides that, of course, she just finds the company nice. Especially on a night like tonight, where she was feeling restless as she was.

Late into the evening, sun lamps powered down and a dim yellow light flickering overhead, Biggs finds himself drenched in sweat in the Slums—typical heat. He sits at the table in his apartment, the scent of gun oil thick in the air as he works. Slow. Methodical.

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jwnchstr · 2 years ago

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waiting for superman | m.s47

title: waiting for superman part 1

characters: you/reader/catherine, mick schumacher

summary: when your father (a former ferrari mechanic) was diagnosed with alzheimer's, your world turns upside down. you had to give up your city life, get back to your village to take care of your father. but what hurts the most is being so close to him and seeing him not remember you (catherine) as well as every precious moment in his life with you. you start to questions about everything until mick schumacher (your childhood best friend) comes back into your life and teaches you life lessons that you're sure will remember forever.

other f1 fics | masterlist | my wattpad

waiting for superman part 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

working is stressful enough. and driving 30 minutes just to get home can make you feel like killing yourself. those traffics. people breaking for no reason. people driving above speed limit as if they're in a drift competition. but oh well, except for today.

you decided to take a longer route home today even if that means you will be spending extra 10 minutes on the road to reach home. but with your current life, you know needed those 10 minutes because it's literally the only time that you have for yourself. accompanied by nothing but the hum of your tyres and the sound of the car engine. that little white noise somehow makes you calm than the sound of the ocean meeting the shore.

there were a lot of things you are thinking right now but for once, it's not about money. you have some savings enough for the next four months (you've been saving up since your first year at an engineering company in the city centre). so even though you're now only working as a barista, you don't worry about money much. and with your father's condition, the financial assisstant given by the government are quite enough for his medication and to pay for his caretaker.

in the car, your mind takes you back when you were little. how you were always in your father's shadow. despite being a girl, you would always be seen with bolts and nuts, spanners, hammers, car spare parts in your hands. oil and grease on your face. instead of playing with dolls, you'd play with karts, toy cars, nerf guns, video games. the amount of time you spent with your father's colleagues in the hotels. you would follow everywhere your father goes. you would often be seen at the ferrari's garage, surrounded with ferrari engineers and mechanics, asking them this and that. watching them like you're the boss.

but the clouds aren't always clear. things would always crumbling down while you're at the highest of high. it's like the god is calling you and to humble you down. after getting a phone call from your neighbour who told you that your father was always found at the police station, they suggested you to get your father diagnosed. he has alzheimer's disease for a year now and it's not getting any better. if anything, it gets worse and fast deteroriate.

because yesterday specifically, he didn't remember who you are. he didn't remember your name. he wasn't sure why you were in his house. he even called his mom (who died many years ago) and kicked you out of the house. you know your neighbours saw what happened. you just hope they didn't get the wrong idea about your family because you know your father will not kick you out of his house if he didn't lost his mind. good thing annie the caretaker lives with you. she sedated your father. when everything's calmed, you locked yourself in your room and cried.

yesterday was not the first night you cried since your father was diagnosed. but it was the most painful yet. to witness your father calling his mother who was dead for years. to see an unknowing look when he sees your face. your name didn't give him a clue of who you are. he said something about calling andrea. and you know who andrea and that's where you know you're fucked. because both you and you father hate your mum.

all of the times you spent together with him got deleted from his memory just like that. you remember when you were younger. you used to get mad at your father for not giving you enough attention but if you knew your father was going to get alzheimer's and that he won't remember you ever, you wouldn't beg your father for attention.

so what now? you can't just make a conversation with him now. you can't get straight to your point because every time you will try tell him something exciting, you will have to tell him from the start. from before the news. the concert your favourite is going to make. your plan on seeing them. when the ticket purchasing is open and you got yourself the very expensive one (the package includes meet and greet with the band backstage before concert, a handful of merchandise that include lanyard, rainbow light stick, bracelet, photo album from the first few concerts, free drinks.) the songs list. though at one point, you stop talking.

"nevermind. you won't remember it at all," you'd tell your father.

"i'm sorry."

"it's okay."

no. it's never okay. because he used to remember things that you like, love and hate the most. he remembered things that made you cry and laugh. he knew the bad jokes just to put a smile on your face. both of you used to say bad things about your mum and laughed about it. now he talks about her.

and he definitely hates you now. you know it's his routine to go out at 11 in the morning to meet his friends somewhere in the neighbourhood. he would usually be back home by lunch time. he would walk home since most of his friends are also too old to drive. but after a few times being found by the police and your neighbour had to fetch him at the police station, he's banned to leave the house without a partner even if he's not meeting his friends. annie will usually tidy and clean the house in the morning and you work in the morning until five. like a teenager, he's in a rebellion phase where he doesn't want to talk to you though he's still being friendly with annie.

you're lost. you don't know what to do. you tried asking the doctors some advice. you tried asking a community for a solution. you tried inviting his friends over to your house instead but at the end of the day, your father still wants to go out during the time that neither you nor annie were available. it hurts you everywhere realising that you lost your lovely father.

you feel your eyes sting. they water a little bit before you blink them away. but it's not like you to cry on a daylight. so you sit in your car as you drive within speed limit, head hurts from holding back your tears. the traffic is as normally heavy today but you're not stuck. you enjoy every second of the drive until a big dog crosses the road. you to slam your break. your tyres screech.

luckily you were already inside a rich neighbourhood. the familiar, quiet and deserted neighbourhood where there are less cars, more trees, big and well-maintained park. you rarely come here unless you're visiting one of two of your rich friends. shocked, the dog doesn't move. he stays in front of your car in the middle of the road, crying for his mistake. you pull your handbreak and press the hazard light button before you leave your car to check up on the dog.

"hey, buddy."

the dog whines. he watches as you approach him, gives you his best puppy dog eyes so that you would not be angry at him and help him instead. he belongs to someone because there's a collar around his neck though without a name and a phone number. smoothing your fingers through the dog's fur, you help him calm down.

"oh, thank god, you're okay," you'd say. "are you supposed to be here, little buddy? where did you come from, huh? where's your human?"

the dog whimpers while you continue to caress his neck, his back, his head. you can feel him shaking uncontrollably under your palms. instantly, you feel bad for him even though it's not your fault to make him scared in the first place.

"augustine!" comes a male voice from over the dog's shoulder. "augustine. oh thank god! there you are! you got me worried sick about you!"

every problem you had about your life was gone when you see the dog and when you had to hit the break paddle but now as the familiar blonde-haired man with blue eyes is in front of you, you feel your heart explodes. something caught in your throat. your blood withdrawn from your face. you feel like your world is crashing down and rebuilding with a new kind of good problem. out of the many places and times, why must you see mick schumacher now?

mick was your childhood bestfriends. since he's inseparable with his sister gina and since your age is not so different with her, you're best friends with her too. and being bestfriends with the siblings is like being the third child to their parents corinna and michael. so they know you. you know them. your father is a friend of michael and he was one of the few people that was allowed to see michael when he got into that tragic accident. things changed when mick got so busy with his formula siries career and you're busy studying to be an engineer. it's been years since you last saw him. well, until today.

mick, who has yet to notice you there, lets out a long sigh. you watch him as he puts his attention on dog---augustine. he kneels in front of augustine, checking his body for cuts and bloods. when there's nothing serious, he sighs one more time. relieved, his shoulders relaxed.

"augustine... what did i tell you about running off the street?"

the dog shoves his muzzle into the male's underarm, hiding his face and continues to whimper. it's as if he is apologising to mick that he's being reckless and maybe promise not to do it again.

"you could've been killed, do you know that?"

mick looks up at you now after feeling like it's enough to scold augustine. plus, they're still in the middle of one side of the road. and his reaction mirrors you when you first found out that it's mick in front of you.

"catherine?"

"hi, mick."

you smile. you feel like being a high school girl again for having your crush looking right at you. he is exactly the kind of prince charming most girls used to dream of when they were children. only you have had met your prince charming ever since you were little.

mick's eyes studies your face that he hasn't seen in a few years. "h--- hi."

things get awkward. you didn't know what else to say. you keep smiling.

"i'm--- uhh--- i'm sorry about augustine," mick stutters a little. "we were just playing freebies. at the park. and then she thought we lost the freebies so she went hunting for it."

so agustine is a she.

"don't worry about it." you wave a hand. "what's important is that she's fine, isn't she."

"a bit traumatised, i bet. but other than that, she's fine, yeah." mick smiles at you even though his eyes are on augustine who is sitting like a good dog near his leg.

a short silence falls between you and mick again until mick feels augustine nudges his leg.

"i--- i should get going."

get going? five minutes ago you're sure you felt like running away when you saw mick. in face, you didn't want to meet anyone you knew who lives in this street because you hate telling stories about your father. the shock in their faces. the simpathy. they send condolences but they never meet their hearts. because none of them never experienced what you're experiencing now. but when mick stands up, pets his dog to follow, turns around towards the direction they came, you feel like stopping them. because when interacting with them you weren't thinking about your problems for once. it feels fresh.

but despite that, you didn't have the courage to call mick even though you were his childhood bestfriends. even though you grew up in the same village. even though both of you used to play with dirts together at the horse barn at your neighbour's. all of your learned how to ride a horse together with your neighbour's kids but only gina turned out to make it a career. how he would follow you and your father hunting in the woods. you were there when he decided to be serious with karting. you would reconsider to do it if you still had that dream job, one where you and mick weren't having that huge gap in terms of your career. but it's different now. mick is a succesful formula one driver and you're just a barista. it sounds crazy if he wants to go out with you.

but you haven't seen him for years! you could kill yourself if you didn't go out with mick for at least once in your youth. to see how he is like as a someone closer than just a friend. if it didn't work out, it's okay, you think. you can still be friends with him like he is friends with justine. so you open your mouth to call mick. you were glad nothing came out because before you could find your voice, mick stops on the road divider. augustine follows just as when he stops. he turns around and approaches you once again.

"sorry." he chuckles nervously. "i know this sounds a bit crazy but i'm free for the rest of the day today. and i was wondering if... if you'd like to have some coffee with me."

you heart blossoms. "i would if you don't mind me driving for you."

you definitely didn't plan to say that though. it's just that your car is kind of brand new so it's hard to put a trust on somebody else to drive your car even though he is an f1 driver.

mick chuckles. "i don't. new car?"

"kind of," you answer as mick inspects your car. the tyres. the sportrim. the skirting. the tinted windows. the custom colour of your car. "it's two years old though but it till feels like it's new."

mick is definitely in love with your car.

"look at how shiny your car is."

mick rounds your car, pushes augustine into the back of your car and apologises when augutine's legs cause a dirts on your seats. though you wish you brought old towel or newpapers, but you dismiss mick and drives him back to the park (though you have make to u-turn) for him to collect his belongings that he left when chasing after augustine. good thing nothing was stolen.

you ended up settling down at a coffee shop in the city centre with mick beside you and augustine comfortably lying on her stomach by mick's foot. you recognise this particular coffee shop because a year ago you were one of their regular customers to get coffee first thing in the morning before work. their coffee never felt expensive to you.

until now...

"the fact that we haven't seen each other for years, i feel like i should introduce myself," mick jokes.

"we just haven't seen each other, mick. we're not strangers."

mick laughs. "how have you been doing?"

to be honest, you don't know how to answer mick's question. well, how do you answer when a year and a half ago, you learned that your father has alzheimer's disease. and then you have to resign from your old company, say goodbye to your dreams, pack your bags and return home. you weren't ready for what comes next. nobody from your circle told you what to expect when your father has alzheimer's. so when he starts to forget about you, it hurts so bad.

"i'm... good."

"the delay doesn't sound good."

"i don't have anything else to say."

mick stares at you for a few seconds. it feels like he is reading your mind. it feels as if he already knew what happened to your father but didn't want to feel like he knows everything so he keeps quiet. you're damn sure he is waiting for you to tell him but the question is, are you ready? even if he already knew about your family?

didn't feel comfortable, you gulp and look away before returning your gaze to him.

"enough about me. how about you? how are you doing? how's your career?"

mick doesn't look pleased with the question. he presses his lips together. as trained, he answers "there are many ups and downs with the teams. didn't manage to finish last race but we're looking forward to the next race and definitely we will work harder."

"seriously? you're using that voice with me?"

"what voice?"

"your working voice," you state. "when you're answering interviews. you have this kind of voice. and that staged answers--- i know you memorise them. come on. tell me something i don't know."

mick wonders and he wonders a lot. and you definitely didn't know what you don't know and mick decides to wait and see if he's right.

"well, seb is visiting us next week."

"really?"

your face lights up hearing sebastian vettel's name as you're close to him too. his kids are a bundle joy. though you only meet them when he's visiting mick but they remember you and that's what matters. having a father who was once a part of the motorsport team gave you a lot of advantages and experiences a normal girl didn't have.

your father was michael's mechanic at ferrari. and michael was close to him at home but closer since they spent so much time together around the globe. and michael was close to sebastian so that makes your father closed with sebastian. and you too. at some point, all of you are connected.

you thought of bringing your father to see sebastian at mick's house but your face falls as soon as you remember that your father isn't going to remember who sebastian is despite being close. those times he and michael spent with sebastian in the red bull garage after both of them retired. those times they spent together watching junior drivers in their go-kart, standing outside of the go-kart circuit with hands behind their backs, judging other people's kids. your father isn't going to remember them all.

"hey, what's with the sour face?"

you give mick a small smile. "nothing. i probably should head home."

"but we just like here like... three minutes ago."

"i--- i just feel like to be alone. i'm sorry, mick."

"o--- okay."

mick gathers his belongings and you gather yours. he pulls augustine up by the leash and minutes later, all three of you are inside your car again and on your way home.

mick's house is exactly how you remember it used to be. the same colour. the same gravel road that leads to his house. the same frontyard with a little garden on the left though corinna have few different flowers and trees now. his mother or gina might have traded their old cars but other than those, nothing really changed. as you slowly pull your car in front of the house, you see gina at their front porch, reading while her dog roger is chasing the butterflies away.

"thank you for the coffee. i really appreciate it."

"ah, it's nothing," mick scratches the back of his head absent-mindedly. "i think we should do it again."

"you think?"

"no. we should do it again."

yes. you wanted to do this again even though at first, you didn't think there is "again" especially when you were being hard on mick. close to being rude to him when he was nothing but a sweetheart to you. he even paid for your coffee when normally you would your own meal when you go out with your friends. and even a few guys you dated back then.

you're not sure where this is going. you wished to go out with mick for at least once in your life. but god is giving you another chance with mick so you definitely isn't going to say no. right? wrong! just when you thought you finally found your happiness, a thought about your father crosses your mind. you've been neglecting him for hours now. a part from his rebellion about you not allowing him to go out without supervision, he could be sulking now at home because you've been neglecting him. another reason for him to hate you.

"i don't know, mick."

"you're worried about your father, aren't you?"

this is what mick has been waiting for you tell him about. he's been itching to hear them from your own mouth. he didn't dare to ask you himself in the first place because he knows what it feels like to talk about something you hadn't truly accept. but the reason mick is asking now is because he wants to see you more and he cannot bear the fact that you keep saying no becaue of your father as if he didn't understand your situation.

he understands alright!

your eyes instantly water. "how---how do you know?"

it hurts to see you cry because the catherine he remembers was always laughing. if you're not doing that, you'd be smiling. even if not that, you'd be mischievously smirking at him with gina. both of you were quite pranksters back then. even if you weren't doing any of the above, you were not crying.

"mum told me." mick pauses. "i didn't believe her but last week i found your father at my old karting club with annie. i tried to talk to him but he didn't remember me. and that's when i know."

you wipe your tears on your cheeks.

"is that why you've been distancing yourself from me?"

"no."

mick raises his eyebrows. "are you sure?"

"maybe."

"why else?"

"well, isn't it obvious? that you're always busy and constantly traveling. meanwhile i'm here struggling with double hours and taking care of my father that i barely had time for anything."

"aren't you an engineer?"

"were," you say. "i have to leave them behind, mick. right when my father was officially diagnosed with alzheimer's. i came back home. and i'm now a barista."

you lift up a logo on the left side of your uniform.

"i'm sorry you have to through this, catherine."

"i'm... getting used to it."

"you know what, why don't you come with him when seb comes next week?"

"thanks but he won't remember anything, mick. he doesn't even remember me."

"shit."

mick looks down. mourning. mourning for you and all of your memories you had with your dad.

"but this isn't going to be the last time we ever see each other again, okay? i'll see you tomorrow at your house. i want to see your father. i don't care if he doesn't remember me. i still want to see him."

"no. you don't have to---"

"maybe i'll bring gina along. we'll see." mick smiles. "bye."

you watch as mick opens the back car door and whistles to augustine. as soon as mick and augustine step foot onto their frontyard, roger barks happily at them as if announcing to the people who live there that mick and augustine are back from the park. gina puts down her book and looks up. she smiles brightly as soon as she recognises it's you in the car and waves at you. you wave back, returning home.

when the next day comes, mick didn't tell notify you that he's on his way to your house. good thing you are on your off-day and you just finished having your late breakfast when your door bell rings. your father doesn't move from his seat. he didn't ask you to get the door. it's as if he didn't hear the bell. or maybe he is sulking about yesterday. meanwhile you and annie exchange looks.

"did we expect any visitors today?"

"uh. i think that's mick."

"mick? as in the schumacher?"

you nod your head.

"you didn't tell me he's coming? i didn't prepare anything."

"and i haven't taken my shower," you say. "that's alright. i'll get the door. he's here to see dad."

when you finally open the door, you realise that mick isn't alone. a beaming gina is one step behind mick's shoulder. while mick is wearing a jumper and jeans, gina is wearing a button-up shirt tucked into her trousers and her trousers are tucked into her horse-riding boots. she must be from the barn. as usual.

"were you at the schmidt's the whole morning?"

schmidt is your neighbour. the who one has the horse barn where all three of you---including schmidt's children---used to play together when you were kids. the way all of you used to play like there's no tomorrow. not worrying about pimples and acnes and allergies. while the fathers would be watching over you, drinking coffees (because it's not a good moral to drink alcohol with kids around) and talking. sometimes they'd be working on an old tractor that they know was not going to work but still tried to make it work.

gina chuckles. "do you mind if i use your bathroom. i just finished---"

"yeah, yeah. go ahead. you know where the bathroom is. my turn next."

gina leaves her boots outside, enters your house without any more words, leaving mick in confusion as he watches his older sister making your house like her second house. just like how you did to theirs.

"is she always like that?"

you smile guiltily.

"how come you're still close with her and not with me?"

"i don't know, mick. i guess it's easier when you're always home."

mick doesn't like that sound. he's home as much as he can when there's no race. his manager tries to accept less interviews, appointments, photoshoots to free his schedule and let him home because he understands mick's family situation. and when he's home, he is home. and yet, he never stumbled into you before.

mick enters your house and the sense of familiarity hits him. every precious moment he created with you and the house when he was a little boy hits his memory core. the kitchen where you'd all eat cereal despite it being pass breakfast time. the silly arts on the wall are still there. and then there's the living room where all of you used to watch cartoons. your father travels alot when he was a ferrari mechanic but somehow always manage to reserve this old house foor the sake of the memories. miracle.

then mick sees your father sitting on the single chair, staring into nothing. mick glances at you.

"ever since he... you know... he doesn't like noise. he hates the tv because he says he cannot understand whatever the hell they're saying. though i think he is particularly quiet today is because i was not home early."

"mum says you'd walk with him on your off-day."

"that's true. but in the evening. i--- uh--- i usually woke up late on my off-day."

as if somethng clicks in his mind, mick's eyes catch an abandoned set of bowl and mug on your kitchen island. "you just finished your breakfast, aren't you?"

you sheepishly smile at him. you know mick and his family are early risers. maybe it's in their genes but it's also might be because they're athletes and with their training schedules, diet, mental health they're trained to sleep early to wake up early the next morning.

because it doesn't feel foreign inside your house so without being offered, mick takes a seat in front of your father, you in front of him so you can see the day his blue eyes dilate with hope as he opens his mouth to greet your father.

"good morning, herr erberhardt."

when your father looks at mick, there is the smiliar confusion he has with you. the first time felt like thousands of knives impaling you and though it still hurts to see the same unknown look on his face when he looked at you this morning but since you have accepted it, you stopped feeling sorry for yourself. and it amazes you with how fast you could accept.

"who are you?"

"i'm mick. you know my father michael."

"michael?"

"schumacher?" mick's face falls but he doesn't look hurt that your father didn't recognise him and his father. "you were his best friend and mechanic."

"oh."

mick quickly pulls out his mobile phone. you watch as mick presses some icons for a while until you finally understand what he's doing. he opens his camera roll, picks one picture and shows it to your father. you lean closer to look at the picture. and though mick didn't slightly turn his phone for you, you can see the picture clearly. your father and mick's. both of them are wearing the familiar red t-shirt.

your father definitely have tons of pictures of him at work but not this one. based on the quality, you would know that it's from one of the least photographers who was allowed to enter the paddock back then.

"see. this is him. the one on the right. and this is you. it was both of your last day with ferrari."

you weren't there on your father's last day with ferrari but you remember him coming home with lots of gifts from brasil. and you still have them in a big box in the garage where you keep good ol' stuffs there.

mick continues to tell stories to your father. and it was at this exact moment that you know why you weren't allowed to follow him to brasil because he knew there were having a farewell party and he's going to get drunk and not able to take care of you. maybe it's better to find this out as an adult because otherwise, you wouldn't want to speak to your father again if you found this out when you were little.

it looks like mick doesn't care at all that your father doesn't remember anything that he's telling as your father listens to them without showing any interest at all. mick keeps his composure well and you wonder how he does it until you remember that his father is sick ever since he was 14. when you were 14, you still had your father to help you with a guitar.

gina comes into the living room, smelling like your shower gel and hair shampoo, when mick is telling a story about him and sebastian. and you excuse yourself because it's your turn to take a shower. and you could've missed mick glancing at you if you hadn't turn towards them at the living room.

when it's time for lunch, gina was first to be seated at the dining table, too hungry from her session at schmidt's barn. everyone eats only when everyone is seated at the dining table---including annie---and gina is treating herself as if she's at her family's house. not like you mind though because her presence brings a little joy in the house.

mick on the other hand is embarrassed with his sister's behaviour even though he too is used to having lunches and dinners at your house. but that was several years ago. to be able to do this again feels like he's starting over with you and your family. but maybe with gina there he can get used to this sooner.

everyone is doing their own part at the dining table. one asks questions. one answers the questions. one more person makes fun of the person who asked the question because she likes to make fun of her little brother. the late-30 woman is keeping an eye on an old man who is feeding himself slowly. for a moment, everything looks so perfect at the dining table until the old man stops eating, leaves the dining table and starts hunting for something.

four of you stop eating immediately. everyone wears a worried look on their faces as you watch your father looking around the house for something. he stops in front of the tv where the coffee table sits. he upturns the rattan bowl, rummaging through its content scattering on the table. then he takes out everything inside the sofa remote holder. when he didn't find what he's looking for, he moves towards the tv cabinet.

he opens the tv cabinet, takes out every cd, dvd, book, extension wire, more remote controls and dust. you hear him mumbling something but he still hasn't found it.

"dad, what are you looking for?"

you dad doesn't answer you.

"dad, do you need help?"

"ma! where's my... where's my..."

mick knows you have no one except your father, though when you were little, diana (your nanny) was in the picture and annie came only when your father was diagnosed with alzheimer's. your father's mother died before you even existed. maybe mick's father knew her but not the next generation. now it makes you wonder how far back his memory is deleted from his brain.

but it seems that even by calling for help from his mother, he doesn't know what he's looking for. you get up from your dining table and approaches your dad. you try to tell that it's okay to forget what he's looking for now and that he can try and find it later when he remembers. the house is already a mess like there was a thief here but your father is not giving up.

"dad, why don't you sit down for a minute. i'm sure it'll come back to you if you calm down."

"no. i can't," he says. "it's important."

"why don't you tell me what you're looking for and i'll help find it?"

"i--- i don't remember what i'm looking for but i will know when i find it."

frustrated, your dad starts hitting himself. this is not the first time, though. it has happened a few times before. though it's only been a year since your father was diagnosed but this disease is eating him way faster than the doctors claimed.

while you try to stop him form beating himself (you getting beaten in the process), annie jumps out of her seat to get the seductive in her room while gina plays a soft, melancholy music in the background. once again, mick is left in horror as he watches everything unfolding itself in front of his eyes. what's more surprising is how his sister looks like she knows what she's doing.

mick certainly doesn't know what to do in the situation and how to offer any help. it's hurting him to watch your father hitting himself just because he cannot remember what he's looking for. and seeing you gets beaten... by the time your father calms down, he watches you slumping onto the ground with a loud thud. he sees your eyes wet. you look tired despite the fact that you just had your lunch.

gina helps annie carrying your father to his room while mick approaches you.

"hey. are you okay?"

you feel mick's hand squeezes your hand gently. you hear his voice breaking though you did not understand why. you nod your head to answer mick's question.

"annie and gina already brought him to bed. do you want to take a walk?"

"okay," you answer without actually understanding what mick was asking you.

mick stands up and pulls you up with him. mick helps you put on your jacket and shoes after doing the same for himself. you're still too tired from tending your father to speak and to think so while your mind is empty, you let mick leads you out. you follow wherever mick is taking you, talking hand-in-hand in silent, looking at the greens and blues and yellows. some cars pass by but you don't care.

"i'm sorry you have to see that," you finally speak after 30 minutes of walk.

"your father doesn't bother me," mick says.

you made a sound that you didn't know it was coming from your throat.

"gina did."

"why?"

"i don't know. maybe the fact that gina knows about your father. not me. and the fact that she knows what to do when herr erberhardt starts misbehaving tells me that she knows for awhile now."

"i'm sorry, mick. i just didn't want you to worry about me."

"so you told gina not to tell me?"

you sigh. hate to hear the irritation in mick's voice because you know you're wrong. he is your best friend. if augustine hadn't cross the road yesterday and you hadn't almost hit her, you probably is still not ready to tell mick about your father because you're just insecure with yourself now. you lost your dream job while mick is striving. people can't tell you that you're wrong to feel insecure about that.

mick knows not to want to argue with you especially when you're tired, so he drops the topic. that's okay, he thinks. he can ask you next time he sees you. it not tomorrow or the day after tomorrow, he has next week. because he will be seeing you again next week when sebastian comes to visit him and his family even if you didn't bring your father (he hopes you will) because you're close with sebastian like how he is closed with sebastian. but either way, mick knows that he will want to keep seeing you for as long as he can work this out.

when both of you get back to your house, gina is sitting at the front porch to wait for mick to get back home together. annie is nowhere to be seen but you bet she's inside, cleaning up the house after the hazard.

"don't forget next week, okay? i'll ask mum to cook your favourite cheesecake," mick says while hugging you.

"and tell us if you need anything. you know we're always ready help you whenever you need us."

you nod your head and smile at gina. "thanks."

when the siblings are out of your vision, you turn around where your house is. the house that holds thousands of memories and one who doesn't remember them at all.

part 2

#mick schumacher #ms47 #f1 fanfiction #mick schumcher x reader #mic schumacher x reader #mick schumacher fanfic #haas #mercedes #ferrari #alzheimer's disease #mental illness #michael schumacher #sebastian vettel #sv5

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