#Oil Change Pickering

[microwavepopcorn]

[edupunkn00b]

Meus ex Machina, Chapter 18: Stepping Back

Edited public domain image of two hands reaching for each other, lit in deep blue and neon green.

Prev - Stepping Back - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

WC: 2525 - Rated: T - CW: non graphic nudity, suggestive, swearing. A major disinformation campaign and some not-so-subtle political manipulation.

New travels fast after Logan's machine makes its debut. After each of his machine's debuts, really.

“XHT-0731, you’re cleared for landing,” the comm squawked. “Proceed to platform seven-oh.” Eyes closed, Lucas let out a slow breath then pressed to talk.

“Affirmed, proceeding to platform seven-oh.” His hands shook as he switched off the mic and he forced his grip to relax long enough for the tremor to pass. Nearly there, then he could rest. He opened his eyes and focused on the beacon lights. The dash was awash in orange glow from his powers as he fought to control his nerves.

Thirty-eight hours ago, Lucas had been hunkered down a dozen miles south of the Honshu fires when a news report of a giant blue Kiryu mech attacking corporate facilities in the States hit his automated feed. He’d groaned and buried himself deeper into his sleep sack, hoping to tune it out and grab a bit of sleep when Jan’s DC number read in Japanese snagged his attention.

He set up a crawler to find more information and hit the air. Less than two hours later, the preliminary news reports of an accidental gas release had morphed into a suspected Powered terrorist attack, a world-wide conspiracy to expose the anti-theft measures at Abracadabra shipping facilities. Frantic talking heads—human and otherwise—chattered about this abhorrent abuse of power and betrayal of the secret knowledge granted their Powereds employees—

“More like fucking lapdogs,” he’d muttered, turning up the feed.

“… and what precisely does the Chancellor plan to do now about the rising risk of Powereds who’ve gotten too comfortable with the freedoms granted them in the last Act?”

Fuck.

The ship wasn’t far from the Siberian archipelago, so he landed and procured a new transport, one with a Russian transponder. While rising seas and toxic air had changed a lot of things in the world, some old prejudices never failed to make certain events ‘news’worthy.

He fed the latest reports into a textgen and translated the results back and forth between English, Russian, and Greek a few times before sending it out in a couple of worms to all the major news feeds.

The AI bots gobbled that shit up.

He hopped ships again and took off over the Arctic oil fields on a more direct route back to the East Coast. By the time he was back in range a couple hours later, the first trickles of outrage around the disinformation bots scheming to discredit Powerds had begun to fill the Atlantic and Euro news feeds. It turned out the gas leak had simply been a terrible, horrible, and completely unforeseeable accident and the mysterious Powereds who’d converged on the site to evacuate the Traditional workers had saved thousands of lives. 

A few progressive channels were even calling for commendations for the Powereds at the site.

Lucas paused the vidfeed, Ro’s bright red suit making him easy to pick out of the crowd. Pat’s baby blue unitard was covered in so much dust it matched the giant grey gates some reprogrammed picker bot was yanking off their hinges.

Squinting at the grainy footage, he zoomed in. There was a man inside the bot, wearing it like a suit. And Pat… 

Pat was guarding his back.

“Huh,” he said to the empty ship. “Looks like Jan finally recruited somebody new.” He unpaused.

The zoomed-in feed lingered on Jan’s face for one long moment before it cut away to another talking head extolling the glory of Corporate-Powered partnerships. Lucas switched it off. He pushed the engines and navigated to the nearest landing platform. One more hop to a new ship then he could head back to his cachette in the States.

The skids had just touched down when Re’s scream ripped through his mind. His head slammed forward, bouncing first against the controls and then the deck as he fell from his chair. Distantly, he registered the wet trickle of blood running sideways down his face as he reached out.

Re wasn’t hard to find. He was afraid, overwhelmed and hurt, but… purposeful. This was no accident.

Blinding orange leaking past eyes squeezed shut, Lucas curled on the floor. He hugged his knees tight to his chest, and held his breath, steeling himself.

Then he opened himself to the turmoil in Re’s mind.

It had been a long time since Jan had last dropped his shield, a long time since he’d last recruited Re to find someone in need. Who the fuck were they looking for now? And what made them so important they should hurt Re like this?

There wasn’t much Lucas could do from a distance, but he poured what little calm he had out into the world, smiling past his tears when Re picked up a bit of it before he was suddenly cut off again.

And just like that it was over.

Lucas lay panting, eyes slowly dimming as he scrabbled together his own composure. By the time he sat up, cold, sticky blood clung to the side of his head, a small, drying pool of it left on the deck. He washed himself and then the ship, spraying a thick layer of disinfectant and running the Steri-san on deep clean to eradicate any trace of his DNA. 

The sterilizer system’s whine made for good cover as he crept out onto the mostly deserted landing pad to find a fresh ship for the final leg of his trip.

~

-“It worked.”-

Janus’ eyes snapped open, his room filled with the silence that followed a rung bell. He blinked in the darkness, the last stubborn tendrils of his dream sticky and fighting to drag him back down into sleep. He touched his face and his hand came away wet.

The house was quiet and calm, not even the usual dreams and nightmares of four other sleeping minds woven through the air.

Five. There are five other souls in this house. Five other minds here…

Five, he nodded to no-one. Five when you count—

Janus sat up, breath caught in his throat as he reached out to each of them. Virge’s mind relaxed—for once—in a dreamless sleep. The Prince’s gleaming castles he didn’t even need dreams to build in his mind. Pat’s cotton candy sweetness wrapped around a permanent, prickly worry. Logan’s unshielded thoughts screaming out, want and need and hope and pain and—

Re…

-“I told you,”- Gentle laughter poured into Janus’s head. -“I like it when you call me ‘Muse.’”

-“Muse,”- he repeated, mouth forming the word his name dancing in his mind. “How?”-

-“I told you, Jannie…”- The Muse’s thoughts were quiet, happy. Peaceful and maybe even a little spacey. A hand drew through his hair as he drifted off to sleep. He wasn’t alone in his room.

-“It worked.”- The Muse sighed, warm and comfortable and calmer than Janus could remember him being in a long time. Flashes of his night poured into Janus’ mind and he pulled back.

Mentally, he kept his distance, not throwing up a shield between them, but giving The Muse a bit of space, a bit of privacy for his thoughts and perceptions.

-“‘Night, Jannie,”- The Muse sent, a small marigold sparking to life on the pillow next to him. So bright, it almost glowed in the dark, soft orange petals lush under his fingertips. -“Will I see you in the morning?”-

-“Yes! Good night, dear Muse,”- he sent back, smiling when The Muse’s thoughts settled into sleep. “See you in the morning.” Reaching slowly, half expecting the flower to dissolve at his touch now that The Muse was asleep, he plucked up the stem, brought the blossom to his nose and inhaled. It smelled just like the flowers Patton grew in the cool house out back. Even in sleep, The Muse’s control was flawless.

He lay there a while, waiting for the flower to disappear. It never did. The rest of the house was asleep, flitting in and out of dreams. But even The Muse’s dreams were peaceful and quiet, a hushed buzz in the air.

When Machina had come to him with his plan, Janus had been afraid to hope too much. He’d permitted the experiments as long as Ro wasn’t too worse for the wear and remained a willing partner in the tests. Subject might be a better word. But he’d never actually expected the device to work. It was such a careful balance, blocking just enough of the world from him—and blocking enough of The Muse from the world. Over the years, they’d tried more times than he could count to adjust the power of his room’s shield over the years, had tried to lower it.

But each time the world poured in, it had been too much. It had always been too much.

As he bobbed in the ebb and flow of The Muse’s dreams, Janus couldn’t deny Machina’s device had indeed worked. He’d been wrong. All these years, he’d been wrong.

Had he given up too soon? Had they truly been just months from a breakthrough, just months away from some magic machine that could give The Muse enough control to be free?

What would life have been like then? If he hadn’t given up? If The Muse was just Re, having dinner with them, bickering with Ro over who got the bigger cookie or who’s turn it was to fly the transport.

All those times The Muse had asked about Luc, eyes swimming in tears, asking him to explain again why Luc had left.

What else had he been wrong about?

Janus smelled the flower again, petals tickling his nose. Ro was sleeping better, he noticed, the white noise of his brother’s mental presence a tonic he hadn’t had in a very long time. Janus relished his own relief, too, an empty ache suddenly filled, like putting on a ring that had been lost.

Janus stared down at his left hand. It’s likely he and Ro weren’t the only ones who’d felt the return of The Muse’s presence. Still carefully cradling the flower, Janus pushed back the covers and climbed out of bed.

He had a visit to make.

~

-“The sun’s been up for hours, Sleeping Beauty,”- Re’s imagined voice needled him and Roman rolled over, head buried under the pillow.

Re could just fuck right off. Machina’s eyes had that gleam in them when the latest prototype had passed its first tests, muttering about how they almost had it and he needed some time for just one more adjustment.

The same gleam that invariably meant the next day he’d push it too far and Roman would end up with another migraine. Or worse.

So yes, Roman was going to get his beauty sleep while he could, thank you very much! He burrowed back under the covers and willed the return of sleep.

-”Come on, Ro Bro! Get up!”-

Roman’s eyes snapped open and he flipped over in the bed, listening. It wasn’t yet dawn and Virge shifted next to him. “Y’okay, Princey?” he mumbled, reaching blindly for his arm.

“Ye-yes?” he said, that old hole in his chest suddenly… filled. The eerie silence in his mind, the quiet corner he’d spent every waking moment over the past few years fighting to ignore was… no longer silent.

His mind hummed, music and phrases and snippets of stories twirling together in a happy pas de deux. Half-awake, his own thoughts swirled, a semi-conscious call and response of ancient lyrics, dialogue from movies. Old arguments, minor and serious.

“Do…” Roman rolled to his side and faced Virge. His eyes held the same confused wonder. “Do you hear that, too?”

Virge closed his eyes, brow furrowed. Then he nodded. “Maybe… maybe not everything you’re getting, but…”

-”Re?”- Virge managed actual words while Ro explored nearly a decade’s worth of ideas and memories. -”Re, how are you doing this?”-

-”Why don’t you come find out…”- A memory flashed across his mind, stifled too quickly for Roman to process. -”Just give me a few minutes, yeah?”-

Virge had already pulled on a hoodie and opened the door. “You coming, Princey?”

~

The elevator doors were just closing when they arrived. Virge’s hand bolted out faster than he could see and they slid back open, revealing Papa Bear, pulling on gloves.  Roman’s heart sank down to his toes when he saw the big med kit at his feet. “Padre, what’s going on? Is Janus with him?”

“I don’t know,” he shook his head, brows pinched in a little worried frown. “Jan messaged me in my room and he said he was getting ready and to go ahead. He…” He gave a little shrug, his tiny smile forced. “If it helps, he didn’t seem worried… just… Distracted?”

The elevator doors slid open on the lower level. The hall was silent.

“Distracted like he was talking with Re?” Virge asked, following them out of the elevator. They all stopped when they saw Re’s closed door, the shield’s warning light dark.

“Oh, fuck!” Patton muttered and ran to the door.

“Padre, wait!” Roman called after him but Virge beat them all and flung open the door.

“Re! Re, we’re here! We’re here, we’ll fix—Oh!” Virge froze just inside the doorway then looked down at the floor. “Oh, um, we—”

“Kiddo, what’s—Oh…” Papa Bear covered his mouth, the backs of his ears tinged pink.

Roman pushed past each of them. “What in the holy hell are you two—”

Re lay in bed with the blanket pulled up to his waist, pajamas in a heap on the floor. He held a single finger to his lips, glaring at them. -”I said to wait a bit! He’s sleeping!”-

Curled against Re’s side, equally bare chested, lay Machina.

-”Not anymore.”- Amplified by Re, Machina’s thought spilled out to all of them and Roman’s nerves boiled over into a laugh.

~

The Prince’s laughter was the final proof that the only way past this was through it. Logan pushed to sit up in the bed but only succeeded in knocking more of the blanket off himself. “So I suppose everyone knows we…” He pulled the covers up to his chin and tried to ignore his own heated cheeks. Remus smiled back at him, a wordless coo filling his mind before he smacked his forehead.

“Oh fuck, your pants!” he exclaimed with a laugh and ran across the room, heedless of his own nakedness.

“Kiddo!” Patton shook his head, a mix of laughter and admonishment in his voice as Remus gathered the clothes scattered around his room.

Shaking with laughter, Remus passed Logan his pants before scooping up his own discarded pajama bottoms. He looked around the gathering and grinned. “Oh, come on. Raise your hand if you haven’t seen me naked yet.”

Given Remus’ utter lack of shame, Logan was unsurprised to see no-one’s hand go up. However, his and Remus’ jaws dropped at the same moment.

“Wait, where’s—”

The hallway beyond Remus’ room burst into strobing yellow lights. 

-”Jannie.”-

Logan had wiggled into his pants just before Patton reached for him, eyebrows raised in the obvious question. He nodded, trading his pride for a speedier trip back to his chair and his mech upstairs. The movement broke Remus from his reverie and he followed the team upstairs.

[zojastankovic]

༊*·˚ Harvesting and collecting olives ˚·*༊

┊🫒┊Activity title: Harvesting olives in Croatia

┊🫒┊Duration: 8h

┊🫒┊Type of activity: activity and service

༊*·˚ Activity description

╰┈➤ Olive harvesting has been traditionally starting after November 1st for decades. This year, the tradition was broken. Experts advised to start earlier, so the first harvests started at the end of September.

╰┈➤ On harvest days, everything else stops. Everything is subordinated to the collection of those small fruits that mean health. People are gathering to collect olives - no one is sick, no one is in cafes or on the streets during the day. Everyone is in the olive grove. And help is always welcome.

╰┈➤ We went to the field early in the morning. Harvesting begins as soon as the dew disappears. The terrain is inaccessible, interspersed with large rocks and stones. It is done in 3x2 teams, i went with my mom. First, the team sets up large, long awnings around the trees. When the awnings are set, a team with machines (mambas) appears to shake the olives from the tree. The olives fall on the awnings, which are collected by the third team.

╰┈➤ When collecting the awnings with olives, the fruits are cleaned from the branches with rakes and the remaining leaves are removed. Then the olives are bought in buckets, taken to the "grizaiola" to be sifted once more and the rest of the leaves and twigs removed. They are packed in a bag in which they will be transported to the oil mill.

╰┈➤ We finished harvesting around 4:00 PM because the visibility was decreasing. we cleared about 30 trees. Then the olives are taken to the oil mill for processing. And that's just a real experience. A long column of SUVs with trailers full of bags formed an almost kilometer-long line. And that's where the magic began. All the pickers were outside the vehicle, grouped into groups of 10- 15 people. When I got out of the car, I heard happy tiredness, laughter, shouting. Everyone was holding glasses in their hands and happily discussing. Our host explained to us that this meeting is an ancient custom, that is, a way of communication and exchange of information. Everyone has been in the field for months, everyone spends their days picking olives, and this was a time for socializing. No phones.

╰┈➤ As I passed by different groups of happy pickers, I noticed that the topics were the same: how much did everyone pick, how many trees, what's the weather like tomorrow, and the question of all questions, "how much did the olives drop"? I asked for an explanation...not so long ago, for 100 kg of harvested fruit, olives "threw" 17 liters of oil each. Now it is much less, and the crop "threw" 9 liters to us.

༊*·˚ Learning outcomes:

┊🫒┊Demonstrate that challenges have been undertaken, developing new skills in the process

┊🫒┊Demonstrate how to initiate and plan a CAS experience

┊🫒┊Demonstrate the skills and recognize the benefits of working collaboratively

┊🫒┊Show commitment to and perseverance in CAS experiences

༊*·˚ Reflection:

I learned a lot about collecting olives and generally about peoples life style in those regions. I also learned about their culture, mindset and interests because i spent a whole day with them. Even though it was hard and tiring work, i enjoyed it. The negative side of this whole event are the things i learned about climate change. As i already mentioned, collecting olives is becoming less profitable due to conditions created by climate change. But even with that on my mind, i had a great time with my mom and other people from Cres.

[not-xpr-art]

Art Advice #15 - Overlay textures in digital art!

Hi!! It's been a while since I did an art advice post like this and since I've recently been using a new technique (well, new to me lol) for adding texture to my artworks I thought I'd share some tips on how to do it!

Brief introduction into overlay textures:

So I suppose I should start by defining what I mean by 'overlay textures' and why you might want to use them! Overlay textures can add real dimension to your work, and they're especially good if you want to give your digital work the appearance of being a traditional painting! Another great thing about these textures is that most programs will come with some great pre-set texture layers that can be customised, though you can also find great downloadable textures to add to your works too!

To give you a better understanding of what overlay textures are, below are two of the same artwork, one without and one with a texture placed over the top.

This particular texture I created from MS Paint (which I'll get a little more into a bit later) and you will get completely different looks (and can drastically change the colours and feeling of the piece) depending on what blending effect you use to add the texture to your artwork! In the above example I used the 'burn' effect (which is good for deepening colours whilst keeping the highlighted areas semi-bright).

A quick note before I get into the specifics I will say that a thing to remember is that adding texture to a digital work will drastically changed the file size, especially if you are saving things as .pngs!

What types of pre-set texture layers do I use?

I have a few go-to textures that I use regularly!

First is the 'sand' and 'cloud' filter effects on Firealpaca (I'm sure other programs have similar pre-set effects).

The sand one (on the left) is the only I use the most regularly because it gives a more dispersed effect. You can change the colours of the background and the texture by using the foreground and background picker (in the examples below you can see the background is set to the automatic white).

Next selection of textures you can add to your art are from MS Paint (an example of one of these is the above artwork by the way). This is something I only really discovered recently whilst playing around with MS Paint.

These are four examples of the textures you can create on MS Paint! The way you do it is use the rectangle shape and change the 'fill' option to either 'crayon', 'natural pencil', 'oil' or 'watercolour' (the other options in the drop down list aren't textured by the way) and changed 'colour 2' to whichever colour you want the texture to be and voila!

I usually then save that texture and copy it into my usual program (Firealpaca) so I can blend it down onto my artwork. The natural pencil (top left) is my personal favourite since it's more subtle than the rest, but they are all really interesting textures and I'd definitely recommend playing around with them!

What about downloadable textures?

I also regularly use pre made textures that I've downloaded from various places over the years! These are usually either real canvas or paper textures that give your works a traditional appearance!

I'd honestly recommend just giving a quick google of 'free paper/canvas textures' and you'll find some resources. Unfortunately some of the places I used to get textures have been deleted, but I'd definitely recommend checking out Unsplash! It's great for reference images and for textures that aren't copyrighted! There are also some Flickr groups that have free textures that are pretty good!

At the moment I've got a folder filled with ones that I've collected over the years and would really recommend you do the same if there are particular textures you like to use! I also regularly layer these textures on top of each other to give the piece more dimension!

Also you can take your own pictures of canvas/paper textures to use which is just as easy as using ones others have used! Below are a couple art examples of works I've added these kinds of textures to.

How do I add the overlay texture to my artwork?

As I've already mentioned, a lot about using overlay textures is learning how to apply them to an artwork where they don't overpower it, and a lot of this can be controlled by careful use of blending options, the opacity of the texture layer, as well as how and where you layer the texture on to (or underneath) your artworks!

So for example, because I wanted the above left artwork to look more like it had been drawn onto the paper texture, rather than floating on top (which the right line art is), I used the overlay blending effect on one layer of the drawing, and then added a full opacity layer below that, which gives a sort of effect of the drawing 'bleeding' into the texture layer below. I will sometimes use a couple layers of my drawing with the overlay effect blending them into the texture layer to give it a real appearance of it being drawn directly onto the paper.

Sometimes, however, you want to leave the drawing sitting on top of the texture to make it stand out a little more! It really depends on what kind of effect you're going for to be honest. The way you keep these things separate is by putting the texture on the bottom as a background. (You can also have part of your art with the texture over it and part without, like the above artwork on the right which has the line art hovering and the colour overlaid onto the texture!)

Below are a couple more examples of artworks that I've done with some of these textured effects in comparison to the same works without the textures!

Happy texturing! ~

I hope I explained this alright, some of the techniques I talked about are a little hard to put down into words so if you ever need me to clarify anything please feel free to message me!

Thank you for reading and if you enjoy my work please feel free to either commission me or tip me/go to my kofi <3

[wacky-nameless-inventor-24]

For the drabble ask: can I get uhh…🫂 about Gyro and Newton 👀 (just do your best)

OH BOY so I know nothing about Newton’s actual personality but YEA I’ll try let’s gooooo-

🫂 Comforting hugs

Gyro slowly pushed the bedroom door open, wincing slightly as it creaked rather loudly. He’d have to remember to oil the hinges later. The sound and the way he gently tapped his knuckles against the wood as he entered would be enough to let the room’s occupant know of his presence.

However, Newton didn’t look up when Gyro entered. He didn’t even move, he only continued to glare angrily down at his feet.

“Hey, kiddo.” Gyro called softly. “Are you doing okay?”

Newton just crossed his arms.

Gyro gingerly stepped over to him, not knowing what was wrong but not wanting to make Newton even more upset. "You... you seemed pretty upset, do you want to talk about it?"

Newton shook his head.

"Ah..." the inventor came to stand at the foot of the chick's bed, trying to judge his expression. "Do you want me to leave?"

There came no visible response, so Gyro took that as a wary 'yes'. He slowly came to sit about a foot away from Newton, perched on the edge of the bed like his nephew.

They sat in a tension-filled silence, one that Gyro could barely stand. Eventually he spoke, wanting to find something to ease the emotions wafting around the room. "So... I saw your apple-picker prototype! That looked really cool!"

"It doesn't work," Newton muttered, crossing his arms even more firmly.

"Hm?" Gyro hadn't heard him.

"It doesn't work!" The chick exclaimed, and Gyro nearly jumped at the sudden outburst. Newton leapt to his feet. "I've been working on it all week and it just... doesn't work. It keeps sparking and being all jerky."

Gyro's brows furrowed. "It wasn't doing that when I saw you using it."

"It works fine for the first few minutes, then it glitches out until you can turn it off." Newton let out a breath, sitting back down on the bed. "It's been doing that for the last several days, I can't get it to stop."

"Oh..." Well this was something Gyro was good at. "Well, I can help! I'm sure we can get it-"

"See, this is why I didn't want to tell you!" Newton looked up at him, frowning.

Gyro hesitated. "...Why?"

"Because you're going to offer to help and then I feel bad if I don't say yes, but then in the end I have to say that I needed help! That I couldn't do it all by myself! Then when people ask they assume you did all of it because you're a famous inventor and I'm just..." he trailed off. "I'm just me."

"Oh," the inventor blinked, taking in this new information. "Oh. Okay. So you don't want help?"

Newton winced. "...Not to turn you down or anything, but... yes?"

"Okay! That's okay. It's just different, I suppose." Gyro sat back a little. "Wait, do you not like me to help? Do you want me to stop asking? I didn't know you-"

"No, no it's okay!" Newton stood, taking a step towards his uncle consolingly. "Most of the time I like you to help. I just... want to do this one on my own."

Gyro nodded. "Alright. And if there's any other project you don't want my help on, just let me know, okay?"

Newton smiled and nodded, but Gyro could see it was still weighed down with the frustration of his failure.

"Do you need a hug?" The inventor asked, trying to offer his own encouraging smile.

Newton responded by enthusiastically throwing his arms around his uncle, burying his face in Gyro's chest and holding him as tight as he could. Gyro chuckled, and was quick to hug him back.

"Hey, and even if you can't get it to work, it's okay." Gyro murmured, hugging his nephew tight. "Sometimes it's okay to just let a project sit for a while until you can come back to it, or just let it go entirely. There's no shame in moving on to something else and letting that one lie. You know I have a whole room of old projects I never finished. And if you ever change your mind, I'm always willing to help, okay?"

He could feel Newton smile against his chest. "Okay, Gyro. Thanks."

"Anytime."

[warragulforkaus]

Your Guide For Forklift Sales in Melbourne- Choosing the Correct Machinery

The forklift sales in Melbourne allow enterprises to confidently handle the challenges of the current industrial landscape by encouraging cost-effectiveness and sustainability, elevating production levels, strengthening safety measures, and enhancing adaptability. Safety, production, and efficiency are the three pillars of Australian industry.

The forklift in Melbourne is a common tool in the industrial environment and is essential to many activities. However, forklift attachments are the ones that frequently go unrecognised and quietly transform the way jobs are completed in a variety of industries.

Why Is Obtaining Both Licences Beneficial?

To operate both devices properly, certain knowledge and training are needed, and getting a licence guarantees that employees have received the right instruction and are aware of how to operate the equipment safely. By doing this, you may shield employees from harm and lower the possibility of mishaps that can destroy supplies or machinery.

Furthermore, a lot of firms need operators for both order pickers and forklifts. People may exhibit their adaptability and understanding by completing both an order picker truck training in Melbourne and a lifting licence course in Melbourne. This will make them more appealing to potential employers who might offer greater compensation.

Improved Controls Requiring Less Upkeep

The electric forklifts are designed to operate safely. The operator may control the lifting equipment accurately and safely thanks to the novel regenerative braking mechanism. When the operator releases the accelerator, the forklift comes to a halt. The electric forklift is a great match for your workplace thanks to its improved controls.

One of the finest things you have to do for your business is to assist it in continuing to be lucrative and efficient. Additionally, you're saving money on upkeep and maintenance, which will free up a lot of time for your company to handle other matters, such as staffing or other overhead.

You'll be glad to hear that forklifts powered by electricity are less expensive and require less maintenance as well. Compared to other versions, they require less maintenance and use less gasoline. They have fewer moving components, so you won't need to constantly change the filters and engine oil. This translates to more work and less relaxation.

Source - https://warragulforkliftsaus.blogspot.com/2024/07/your-guide-for-forklift-sales-in.html

[ashleyvasquez05]

Virtual Sketchbook #1 01/21/2024

Writing and Research:

Hi everyone! My name is Ashley Vasquez. I am 18 years old and will be graduating high school with my associates, all in hopes of pursuing a career in medicine. A fun fact about me is that I am heavily involved in my community, particularly the Boys and Girls Club. In fact, I was named the 2022 Youth of the Year for my local Club, and I have represented my club in Anaheim, California. This spring, I may even be able to go on a cultural immersion trip to South Africa or Hungary with my peers and the Club.

For this discussion, I was assigned Hieronymus Bosch’s The Garden of Earthly Delights. The following are some of the things I have learned about Hieronymus Bosch.

Not much is known about artist Hieronymus Bosch as his writings did not survive history. The lack of information and understanding of Bosh’s life has left his artwork for lively debate.

The painting was made over 500 years ago, or at least that is what historians have estimated since Hieronymus didn’t date his paintings.

Historians placed The Garden of Earthly Delights at a town palace of the Counts of the House of Nassau in Brussels, where heads of state and court figures visited, leading them to know that the painting was already highly valued at the time. Other indicators of its success were the tapestry and painted copies made of the work after his death.

The paintings panels are said to be read like a book, from left to right.

Bosch’s vision was highly fantastical, with a strong moral message that made his work extremely popular. The imaginative quality in his work had a significant effect on the development of Surrealism in the 20th century.

Hieronymus Bosch, The Garden of Earthly Delights, Oil on panel; central panel 220x195 cm, Wings 220x97cm

If I am going to be honest, I originally found The Garden of Earthly Delights weird. However, it was strangely weird in the sense that it captured my attention and hunger to learn more about this art piece and the artist. Its strange human-like appearances and miniature fantasy-like world was creepy to me, but after researching more about the painting I was able to understand it more. After learning about the paintings message, the significance of the colors, fruits, and hidden music aspects stood out to me. The painting’s message was always there, it was just hidden beneath all these layers of creative and intriguing depictions. I learned the depth found in art with The Garden of Earthly Delights and realized that the painting’s weirdness was what made it so unique.

Works Cited:

Bika, Daphne. “Bosch’s Garden of Earthly Delights: 10 Facts You Need to Know.” TheCollector, 12 Nov. 2023, www.thecollector.com/garden-of-earthly-delights-hieronymus-bosch

MSN. www.msn.com/en-us/news/other/15-fascinating-facts-about-hieronymus-bosch-s-the-garden-of-earthly-delights/ar-AA1jZz71

Pickeral, Tamsin. “The Garden of Earthly Delights | Meaning, Description, and Facts.” Encyclopedia Britannica, 13 Dec. 2023, www.britannica.com/topic/The-Garden-of-Earthly-Delights-by-Bosch.

Stewart, Jessica. “17 Facts You Need to Know About the Delightfully Weird ‘Garden of Earthly Delights’” My Modern Met, 19 Aug. 2022, mymodernmet.com/garden-of-earthly-delights-Bosch.

2. Art and Writing

            The painting above was painted in 1968 by Dyer M. Reynolds, who worked in the circus with Emmett Kelly Clown. The art media used to create this painting was oil paints. Oil paint is slow drying making changes and corrections easy, as well as blending accurately with each other to make subtle variations in color and details of light and shadow. I think for some people, like my mom, with fears of clowns, the painting can be off or creepy; however, I think it is beautiful and interesting in the sense it shows the side of sadness to a clown, making them have a different level of depth.

3.Writing A Self Portrait

Hey everyone! I am an 18-year-old Latina, and also a dual enrollment student. My family is from Ecuador, but I was born and raised here. I love hanging out with my friends whenever I can, especially going to see the sunsets while eating froyo. I have been a member of the Boys and Girls Club of Sarasota and Desotot Counties for the past 11 years, and currently work at CVS. I think I am unique in the sense that I am very passionate about what I do and set clear goals that I will work hard to accomplish. I also love travelling and visiting new places, in other words I am super adventurous.  

4. ART Project (Self Portrait)

[emily-tozer]

_thinkMake Week 9 Reading

This week's reading was pages 1-14 of Andrew Pickering's 'The Mangle in Practice'.

The main points that I picked out from this text were:

You can always add more layers to a site plan, it is never finished. There is always more detail to be added.

The original form of 'town planning' was used by using the Mississippi River, and when Europeans came over, more towns were plonked down, ignoring the landscape. When the levees were constructed to control its flow, they ignored how the river wanted to behave. Once the levees failed and flooded the area, the government imposed itself in charge when there should have been scientists and engineers put in place beforehand to prevent the flooding and disaster from happening in the first place.

Interfering is still part of the assemblage of an object.

Mondrian's art represents the unspoken rules we follow because we feel we have to, and de Kooning's art is the freedom from those rules to see the world exactly how it is and its entanglements.

Only experts in their field should be responsible for an issue in their field, not government departments. The government is allowed to allocate and manage, but shouldn't assume knowledge of a field.

In comparison to climate change, going against the way the planet wants to exist will only result in further complications. Our cities are concrete jungles that water struggles to escape from without sewage systems. If we lived more in harmony with the planet's systems, then less input would be required on our end to create a habitable ecosystem. We find ourselves battling global warming, with temperatures increasing every year. We increasingly use fans and air conditioning, all of which further the damage by using electricity and power. We are in a perpetual cycle of damage that will crash and burn unless we make major changes to the way our society functions. And this will be difficult to achieve due to the power the coal, oil and gas industries hold over every major company and government.

The words I have chosen are:

Dualism - to duet

Control - to authorise

Standardised - to homogenise

[theupdatesblog]

My Main Strategy

- Groww Portfolio

- Zerodha Portfolio

- Paytm Portfolio

### Groww Portfolio

Put stocks in here for tracking the worthiness of the stocks over the long term.

- You like it well

- Earning growth is consistent

- Huge earnings potential

- Small enough for hyper growth

- Unique business

### Zerodha Portfolio

Stocks which are out of favour from the markets.

Trading at historical lowest PE, but has good business growth.

- Big enough

- Unique Business

- Lowest PE

- Consistent Earnings Growth

### Paytm Portfolio

Micro cap companies with good potential.

- Unique Business

- Micro Cap

- Huge hyper growth potential.

## Sectoral KB

### NBFC

High CAR is desirable, Bajaj Finance had high CAR at critical juncture (GFC, Covid).

Customer breakup - high share of salaried or consistent income, high auto loans, high consumer durable.

Cost of fund is higher as compared to banks, hence need to lend in segments where interest margin is higher.

Turn around time for money is quite less, as raw material is money and final product is money. You the return from reinvested profits quickly.

RBI has made NPA norms stricter in recent years.

| Institution | Cost of Funds | NIM | Remarks |

| --- | --- | --- | --- |

| NBFC | around 7% | |Comparable to FD rates of the time |

| Banks | 3.5% | 4% |Comparable to repo rate of the time |

Banks don't unsecured loans, whereas for NBFCs they are ideal customers.

#### [[Bajaj Finance Ltd]]

For banks, ideal customer are

- Mortgages

- Auto Loans

- Personal Loans

### Banks

Book Value compounding is important than PE.

High Return on Equity is important too.

Good Management is important, since accounting in banking very arbitrary, one can show same npa in a very attractive way.

Counter Cyclical Lending

High CASA

## Screening Tools and Resources

- [[Screener.in]]

- [[Tickertape]]

- [[Tijori]]

- [[Moneycontrol]] [[Research]]

- Value picker Forum

- India's macro data

- Energy demand

- Oil Import demand

- (link::https://www.indiainvestments.wiki/)

## Investing Strategies

- Intraday trading

- Positional Trading

- HODL

- Securities Lending and Borrowing

- straddle strategy.

- short volatility.

- sell straddle

## Checklist for Shortlisting

(link::https://www.indiainvestments.wiki/stocks/due-diligence-checklist)

==Replace the below with above link==

- Outperform the NIfty 50

- Good Revenue/Sales Growth

- [[Company Fundamental's Glossary#ROCE|ROCE]] >15 | High ROCE

- Profit/Net-Income Growth > 10

- Profit Margin Growth

- Read about the company & sector

- Check the Chart of PE & EPS

- Debt levels

- Promotor Holding Increase

- Product mix is good

- Unique business model.

- Cashflow

- Growth Guidance.

## Unique Businesses

- Titan

- Mapmyindia

- **Elasticrun**, it seems, has managed to crack an elusive code—hyper-scale without upsetting incumbents. Which, in this case, are distributors of FMCG products.

- **Atomionics** - they into using quantum sensors to create the map of the earths crust, so that mining can be made green and more exact process.

- Infoedge

- EaseMyTrip

## Shorthands

### Rule of 72

Divide 72 with rate of return, the number you get is the no of year it takes to double your investment.

## Things that are everyone needs

1. Paints

2. Wires & Cables

3. Medicines

4. FMCG

5. Fashion

6. Fast Food

7. Laptops

8. Batteries

1. Electric Vehicles

2. Mobile

3. Electronics

## Advices

- Lowest PB Ratio

- Put a Keywords Alert on Google or other such sites to know when that particular stock is getting popular aka euphoria

- Boring is Beautiful

- Sit on Cash, if not finding ideas

- Be a Dumpster Diver

- Look at Sector that have tanked due to some problems.

- Small in size, Medium in experience, Large in aspiration and Extra-large in market potential - SMILE

- Look for companies that are going to manufacture laptops.

- Buy companies after a scandal or spooky regulation changes [[#^p1]] [[#^p2]] [[#^p3]]

- Pharmas, etc

- Buy companies that might go bankrupt but has huge moat or historical significance. [[#^p1]] [[#^p4]]

- Look for companies that have moat that is difficult to replicate.

- Stay invested during last and first week of year. Preferably stay invested all the time.

- Nifty Basis Charts for seeing the buying and selling pressures.

- Watch for Dairy Industry for coming decade.

- Bet on aspects that if stayed the same, will result in multi baggers. Look at past performance rather than future speculations.

- Like people, companies have character, which pays off in long term. Bet on that character staying the same.

- Sameness means the persistence of history.

![[Benner-Cycle.webp]]

## Cutouts




## Related

- [[Company Fundamental's Glossary]]

- [[Nifty Index Constituent's Perf Evaluation]]

- [[Interesting Sectors]]

- [[Good Stocks]]

[allielee]

𝕒𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕥𝕚𝕔

oil stains on concrete. a dirty wrench. careful calculations on grid paper. nike sneakers and small shorts. sports bras and baggy sweatpants. waterproof mascara.

𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕤

Full Name: Allison Laramie Lee

Nickname(s): Allie, Aliwoo

Age: Thirty-Two

Birthday: September 8th

Hometown: Abilene, Texas

Length of Time in town: a few months

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Orientation: Heterosexual

Relationship Status: Single

Occupation: Mechanical Engineer, restores and sells antique cars

Accent: generic American accent

𝕓𝕚𝕠𝕘𝕣𝕒𝕡𝕙𝕪 

tw abuse, abortion, car accident, sibling death

She was the reason her parents fought. That was the impression that she had been born with, the first child of two virtual strangers who decided to stay together for her. That was always clear. The implicit: you better be worth it, never said but always resting over her shoulders.

So she tried to be. Smart, a perfectionist, she tried to wow her parents with her brains and grades, and when that didn't work, she tacked on extracurriculars. She wanted to show them she wasn't a mistake, that she was worth their fights, not the cause of them. It wasn't enough, they split, and it just seemed to get worse.

Dancing started off small, a few classes here and there, but it paired perfectly with her honor roll grades, her perfect image. Allie thought that if she tried hard enough, she could win her mother back over. All so curated, all so perfect. She was dabbing coverup on her sister's bruises and whispering to keep quiet, swallow the poison, never let anyone see, because if they did, well, then that whisper would be right. She was the cause of it all.

When it was time for college, she was accepted into one that was out of state, for a good reason. She had a dancing and cheering scholarship that was a coveted full ride, and her grades helped with that. She needed to shed her skin. She needed to be able to look in the mirror and not see the cracks like porcelain just under the surface.

She was a good girl, but she soon found out that her picker was something of broken. It was always this dude, with his anger issues — a reflection of their mother, who put her hands on people, and the men were the same — or that dude — a reflection of her father, absent, leaving her to chase after them. A cycle of heartbreak and self esteem issues.

When there was a missed period and a pink positive sign, Allie was terrified. She was 19. She was no older than her mother was, and the childhood she had flashed before her eyes, and she knew it would've been better to not have the kid than to repeat that cycle, so she called the only person she knew who would help her: her sister Olivia.

After the spring semester, which she managed to finish without too much fanfare, she headed home for a break. The decision was made. She was going to have an abortion and quietly forget anything happened. It was done, and that was that, and in the two weeks between spring semester ending and summer starting, she had already arranged to attend Stanford in California for a summer semester and then she could fully transfer to Stanford for the rest of her career.

When she was 22, she graduated from Stanford with a degree in Mechanical Engineering. She moved back to Dallas and took a job at a firm. She was still dancing, and on a whim she decided to audition for the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders. It wasn't a surprise that she was hired, she had worked hard for the position.

She went on to cheer for three seasons before a scandal broke out. Allie had been one of the cheerleaders that had caught one of the executives of taking photos of them changing without their consent. She quit while she worked on a case.

Moving back to California, she took another job doing lower level engineering work. She met the man who would become her boyfriend. Daniel was a Formula D racecar driver — he was in Prosec at the time, and wasn't fully a professional. They hit it off, after all, she was pretty and liked cars.

Pretty soon, they became something of a power couple, with her posing for pictures and designing a new engine for him. It was her designs that ended up propelling him into the professionals, even and it landed them a deal with Ford Mustang to have their own proprietary line.

They were good for each other, at least everyone thought so. But most people didn't see the behind the scenes where Daniel struggled with alcoholism. Allie held it all together.

When the court case finally settled, Allie came into a ton of money. She quietly tucked it away, and that became something of a fight, even if Daniel was making a ton of money off brand deals and races.

When he proposed to her, it was an easy yes. It wasn't long after that tragedy struck, on a hiking trip, her brother slipped and fell. He passed away some months later after being in an extended coma. The death of her brother rocked Allie. But disaster wasn't over yet.

Daniel got behind the wheel of a car, and wrecked it. It tanked his career, as well as got him into a ton of legal trouble. Allie wanted to postpone the wedding, to try to handle all of this, and he fought her on it. So she called it off. It was all too much to handle.

So she moved to Whiskey Flats, trying to be closer to her sister and away from the drama. The engine designs were hers, so she took those too, the brand deal with Ford now in litigation as well. Meanwhile, she's living off her settlement money and making real money by restoring old cars that she picks up and does the work on her own.

𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕖

2013: graduated college and became a DCC cheerleader

2016: DCC scandal / quits DCC

2017: meets Daniel

2018: designs the engine

2022: court proceedings and settlement from the DDC

2022: engaged / accident with brother

2023: brother passes away

2023: Daniel gets into an accident / she calls off the engagement / moves to Whiskey Flats

[ennovance]

Warren Buffett Has Been Betting Big on Oil. It’s Time to Find Out Why.

One of the most successful stock pickers of all time admitted years ago that he was ‘dead wrong’ on an earlier oil-company investment. What’s changed? The answer could come this weekend.

https://www.wsj.com/articles/warren-buffett-oil-stocks-berkshire-hathaway-charlie-munger-2c8b12b8?mod=mhp #energysecurity #oott #investor #shalegas #ennovance

[powertech244]

Power Distribution Transformer

Powertech Mills & Controls Pvt. Ltd. covers a wide range of Oil Cooled Transformers conforming to the transnational norms( BIS 1180 position- 1, 11, 111) of quality and safety for diligence and marketable set-ups. These mills are designed and developed using rearmost technologies and can be handled with a variety of terminations so as to suit the conditions for new installation or relief. The designs are so chosen that the total cost including material, conservation, and energy cost due to no cargo and cargo losses are minimal Bobby Winding The most significant material in a motor is the winding which comprises blockish and round operators used for winding. The captain is generally isolated with either high-grade multi-paper covering or with a separating enamel coating. The windings are designed so as to insure reduced axial stresses during Short Circuit conditions and withstand impulse and over-voltages. Some standard forms of coil winding are helical, spiral, Cross-Over, and Slice winding. For Power Mills, both low voltage and high voltage winding are Slice type, which gives the loftiest resistance against short circuits. It's assured proper pressure is given on the winding for hardness. After entering Bobby's captain it'll suffer Quality checking, Conductivity test( Resistance test) and winding durability of resemblant operators will also be checked. Coil Tightening Winding coils are compressed to the designed heights after the sequestration is dried for a specified duration to insure their proper loss to the designed position. For advanced standing mills compressing is done by the hydraulic press with suitably designed setting institutions.

OCTC Off-cargo Tap Changer with help of this we can acclimate Voltage ManuallyCSPCSPConditionsUp to 10000 kVA

Number of PhasesThree Phase

Applicable normsIS, CEA, IEC, ANSI, BS, EN, etc.

CoolingONAN

separating FluidMineral Oil as per specification

frequency50 Hz, 60 Hz

Vector GroupAs specified

Primary VoltageUp to 33 kV

Secondary Voltage415, 433 V OR 11000V( Other Voltages as needed)

Winding MaterialCopper/ Aluminium

Tapping Range5 to- 5 in way of2.5( Other tapping’s as needed)

ImpedanceIn line with applicable norms( or) As per client demand

2) Motor with OLTC( On cargo Tap Changer)In larger power mills, for proper voltage regulation of the motor, an on-cargo valve changer is needed. As there's no authorization of switching off the motor during valve changing. Inside this tank, the valve pickers are generally arranged in an indirect form. The diverter switches have connections operating in rapid-fire sequence with generally four separate make and break units.

The OLTC chooser arrangement for 16 ways and 17 positions.

CSPCSPConditionsUp to 10000 kVA

Number of PhasesThree Phase

Applicable normsIS, CEA, IEC, ANSI, BS, EN, etc.

CoolingONAN

separating FluidMineral Oil as per specification

frequency50 Hz, 60 Hz

Vector GroupAs specified

Primary VoltageUp to 33 kV

Secondary Voltage415, 433 V OR 11000V( Other Voltages as needed)

Winding MaterialCopper/ Aluminium

Tapping Range5 to- 15 in way of1.25( Other tapping’s as needed)

ImpedanceIn line with applicable norms( or) As per client demand

Optional FittingsHV/ LV Cable Box

Breakers(Uni-Directional/Bi-Directional)

Drain stopcock

Protector and Silica gel breath

Pressure Relief Device

Circuit Tap changer/ OLTC

Specialized Parameters of the products contained in this website are general in nature. Please communicate with us for any rearmost/ streamlined/ Specific Information.

operationsdiligence, Power Generating Stations, entering Stations, Substations & Railroads.

Specialized Parameters of the products contained in this website are general in nature. Please communicate with us for any rearmost/ streamlined/ Specific Information.

[sisterspooky1013]

More Than A Feeling, Chapter 3

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

The sun sits high in a cloudless sky just before noon, the murmur of hundreds of voices seeping through the chain link fence that surrounds the fairgrounds as crowds gather in wait of opening day. The rides stand still and proud, each bolt and screw carefully installed, inspected, and tested by the crew, who sip ginger ale to calm their agitated bellies. The oil in the deep fryers is hot, the long curls of fries carved from impossibly large potatoes standing at the ready for their bath, while plain white sugar waits for its chance to be spun and dyed electric pink or baby blue. Each joint booth has been carefully hung with plush that sticks out into the Midway so it catches the eye of awestruck children and haughty teenagers, the agents ready with aprons full of change and the ability to tell a mark from a rube from an honest customer who’s just looking for a good time. Everything is ready; all they have left to do is open the front gates.

Mulder sits on an overturned milk crate, pulling deep breaths in through his nose and pushing them out through his mouth as he steals glances at Scully. She’s leaning against the side of the ticket booth, talking and laughing with Summer and Picker, her coveralls half undone and tied around her hips as the full heat of the day presses down on her bare shoulders around her tank top. She is, unsurprisingly, unaffected by the spin of the Music Fest or the swing of the Viking, and he has half a mind to tell her to put some sunscreen on that lily white skin, if not for the tumult in his gut and the fact that she’d probably tell him to fuck off just to keep their cover.

Tami steps out of what she calls her office, which is a small trailer towed by a pickup truck, and claps her hands, then rubs them together like she’s up to something devious. Jean stands from her seat in the shade of a joint booth and cups her hands around her mouth.

“SHOWTIME!” she hollers impressively loudly, and everyone scrambles to their feet or away from wherever they’d been leaning, gathering around the main entrance.

Mulder follows the lead of the other staff, lining the entryway to the park on either side to create a human tunnel that customers will walk through as they enter, corralling them towards either the ticket booth or the midway. Tami steps into the ticket booth and fidgets with the sound system until the familiar opening chords of “More Than a Feeling” tinkle through the monstrous speakers that are aimed at the entrance. She then runs out to the front gate, pulling it open and stepping aside as streams of smiling and excited customers push into the human tunnel and line up at the ticket booth or set out on the midway. Mulder mirrors what he sees others doing: welcoming people to the show, waving at beaming children, and tossing out empty recommendations like, “You gotta try the elephant ears,” or, “You look like you’d be able to stomach the Ring of Fire.” There is an air of excitement and promise, and the unadulterated joy of a once-a-year opportunity to eat junk and then get so sick you throw it all up, and walk out the door with a comically large teddy bear under your arm. The first wave of customers starts to thin out, and the ride jocks make their way back to their dog houses, ready to take tickets and dodge puke.

“First show?” asks the man beside him, who is taller even than he with weathered ochre skin and black square-rimmed glasses.

“Is it that obvious?” Mulder replies with a nervous smile, and the man nods knowingly.

“You look a little green,” the man says.

“Just started yesterday,” Mulder says, stuffing his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels.

“No, I mean sick. You don’t have to test the rides if you don’t have the stomach for it, son.”

Mulder feels his cheeks warm and nods gratefully. “Luke,” he says, extending his hand.

“Lenny,” the man says as he clutches Mulder’s hand and then pats him on the back with his other one. “I’m in charge of the joints. That’s what we call the games.”

“Any other advice you can offer a newbie?” Mulder asks.

“Yeah,” Lenny says, beginning to walk away. “If anyone asks you to find the key to the midway, tell ‘em to piss up a rope.”

Mulder doesn’t understand what that means, but he nods anyway, and then heads back to the cook trailer.

-

Within fifteen minutes of the gates opening, Scully’s walkie-talkie squawks and a warbled voice reports that the Chump Churner is making a weird noise.

“Mother fuck,” Summer says through her teeth, kicking the leg of a picnic table and cocking her head in indication that Scully should follow her as she takes off into the crowd.

“What’s a Chump Churner?” Scully asks as they weave through customers to take the quickest route to the back of the show.

“The Ferris Wheel,” Summer answers. “There’s nothing wrong with it, it’s just friction between the bearings and the spindle, but anything making a noise scares customers. We greased the shit out of that son of a bitch this morning but apparently it wasn’t enough.”

By the time they arrive at the ferris wheel, a long line of customers is grumbling at the “out of order” sign hung at the entrance, and the ride jock, Mickey, is practically shooting daggers out of his eyes.

“Do not fucking look at me like that, Mickey,” Summer warns him with a finger pointed at his face, and he bristles.

Summer goes straight to the main support of the ride, which hosts a criss-cross of metal bars that double as a ladder, and starts climbing towards the spindle at the center of the wheel. Scully looks around self-consciously at her large audience, the music pumping from the speaker mounted on the spindle vibrating her eardrums, and feels a sudden wave of nervousness. She’s used to death-defying stunts, but not with so many eyes on her.

“Time’s a wastin, Penny,” Summer calls down, and despite her nerves Scully begins to climb.

Within ten minutes, they’ve applied “enough axle grease to drown a hooker,” in Summer’s words, and are back on the ground so Mickey can start up the ride and verify that the concerning noise has been eliminated. Mickey pulls the “out of order” sign off the gate and the line cheers enthusiastically as Summer and Scully head back to the maintenance trailer.

“Is that pretty typical?” Scully asks, and Summer casts her an amused smirk.

“It happens enough that it keeps us employed full time,” she says, and Scully accepts this with a shrug.

“Sometimes we get a quiet day where things seem to go right, and then we get to fuck around a bit, but that usually only happens when it…” Summer stops walking and looks around, then steps close and brings her lips to Scully’s ear. “When it rains,” she says conspiratorially, then moves away and starts walking again. “Don’t ever let Tami or Jean hear you say the R word,” she cautions. “They think it’s bad luck to even talk about it.”

“Any other rules I should know about?” Scully asks.

“Aside from shit that should be obvious like not being drunk or high while the show is open, don’t let Tami hear a single note of a song that wasn’t released between 1970 and 1979,” Summer says with no trace of sarcasm.

“Oh,” Scully remarks with a mix of surprise and realization. “It’s by design that every song I’ve heard here is from the seventies?”

“Tami’s grand design, yes. She firmly believes that all other music is, and I quote, ‘tone-deaf garbage.’”

“Well, there was a lot of good music in the seventies, at least,” Scully says optimistically, and Summer barks a humorless laugh.

“See if you still feel that way when you’ve been here a full season,” she quips.

Before they’ve made it back to the maintenance trailer, they are called to look at a bumper car that’s sitting motionless in the middle of the rink.

-

“You got things under control here, Buddy Boy?”

Mulder lifts his head to see Madge leaning heavily against the door of the cook trailer, one eye squeezed shut.

“Uh, yeah, I think so,” he answers, looking around at the colossal mess he’s made working on dinner prep.

“Good, good. I’m gonna go lie down for a few minutes, okay? I’ll be back soon,” she says, her breathing labored.

“You okay?” he asks with genuine concern, and she waves her hand dismissively.

“I’m fine, just a spell. Don’t burn the place down while I’m gone.”

She slowly makes her way toward the boneyard, and Mulder sticks his head out of the cook trailer door to watch her until she disappears into her camper. Satisfied that she made it safely, he turns back to the list she made for him and realizes he’s finished, aside from cleanup. He pokes his head out again to see if anyone is sitting at the picnic tables and, seeing no one, he pulls the door to the trailer closed.

He begins opening drawers and cupboards, not quite sure what he’s looking for. He finds every cooking and serving utensil imaginable, pots, pans, and small appliances. Near the front of the trailer where it narrows above the tow hitch, he finds a drawer full of miscellaneous odds and ends: pens, scraps of paper, receipts from grocery stores and gas stations. There are lighters, cigarettes, nail clippers, sunscreen, and time-worn sheets of carbon paper detailing oil changes on Madge’s truck and maintenance done on the trailer. Underneath all the junk, he finds a photograph of a much younger Madge standing beside a young man with shaggy brown hair and a patchy mustache. Madge has her arm wrapped around his waist and she’s smiling broadly, while the young man looks wan and gaunt, his cheeks drawn and his skin pock-marked. He doesn’t look well.

The door to the trailer snaps open, and he shoves the photograph back into the drawer and closes it quickly, scurrying towards the prep area as Tami heaves an overflowing paper sack up and onto the floor.

“Here’s those condiments you asked for, Ma—” she starts, but then sees that it’s not Madge she’s addressing. “Sorry, what was your name again?” she asks with an apologetic cringe.

“Luke,” Mulder says with a smile, his heart rate slowing as he concludes that she hadn’t noticed nor wondered what he was doing when she walked in.

“Luke, right,” Tami repeats. “Glad to have you with us.”

-

Monday is the final night of their week in St. Joseph, and the crowd pops at 6:00 pm after parents get off work and agree to bring the kids out one last time before they lose the opportunity for a full year. At midnight, the music cuts and the flashing lights dim to nothing, only the glaring safety lights left to guide customers back to their cars. Agents begin to pack up their plush and everyone takes a break before the back-breaking and nonstop work of slough commences, and then the jump to Kansas City.

Scully is already waiting on the grassy knoll when Mulder makes his way over, lying on her back with her hands folded over her belly and her eyes on the starry night sky. He sits heavy beside her and she pushes up onto her elbows, looking curiously at the plate in his hands.

“Whatcha got there?” she asks with a hungry look in her eye, and he moves the plate away a bit.

“Madge asked me,” he says, and then pauses to clear his throat and affect an impersonation of Madge’s lopsided husk, “does that little lady of yours like peanut butter, Buddy Boy?”

“She does,” Scully says with an edge of irritation. “Hand it over.”

“Now hold on, Penny, I need you to know that I told Madge that the little lady does like peanut butter, but only creamy.”

“And?” Scully asks, her eyes ready to roll.

“Peanut butter and jelly pie sticks. Creamy,” he says with a flourish, moving the plate close enough for her to pluck one of the lolly-pop-esque treats off the plate with child-like wonder.

She takes a big bite and then closes her eyes and hums with satisfaction. Mulder watches her, gratified by her enjoyment of his cooking, which is an unexpected upside to this assignment.

“You know I’m going to make you cook things like this for me after we go home, right?” she tells him, wiping a bit of jelly off the corner of her mouth.

“I’m not sure I can produce the same results without Madge’s oversight, but I’ll give it my best shot. Looks like that might be tomorrow, huh?” he says, taking a bite out of his own little pie on a stick.

“Looks like it,” she agrees.

They haven’t gotten any indication either way regarding their continued employment, and with tonight being the last in St. Joseph it’s looking like they will receive their pay for the week and fly home to Washington with nothing to show. Chris, Damian and themselves are all alive and well, and while there are many gruff characters working for the carnival, none have demonstrated a proclivity towards homicidal tendencies, at least not that Scully and Mulder have been able to garner in the stolen moments between the real, hard work they’ve been performing.

A twenty something blonde woman struts by and winks at Mulder before shooting Scully a dirty look, to which Scully scoffs.

“Friend of yours?” she asks, and Mulder turns to look at her incredulously.

“Becky? The kissing booth girl? Is it anti-feminist to say I’m not interested in a woman who kisses strangers for a fin?” he asks reticently, using one of the many “carny cant” terms they’ve learned, this one representing five dollars.

Scully shakes her head dismissively. “Summer said that joint is gaffed, no one actually wins a kiss.”

“I’ve definitely seen her kissing a customer,” Mulder retorts.

“It’s always the same guy, that agent from the bottle game. He just knows how to get around the gaff and make it look like he won so the customers don’t get pissed,” Scully explains, and Mulder considers this.

“Would you kiss a stranger for a fin?” he asks, and she balks.

“I wouldn’t kiss a stranger for a double,” she says emphatically, “or even a half yard.”

“A yard?” he asks, upping the ante to one-hundred dollars.

Scully considers this. “Is he cute?”

“Who?” Mulder asks.

“The stranger,” she replies.

“It’s a hypothetical question, Penny. He doesn’t exist,” he says dryly.

Scully shrugs. “I guess it depends. If he’s cute…maybe for a yard.”

Mulder shakes his head, which she interprets as judgment.

“You wouldn’t? For a yard?” she asks.

“Oh, I’d do it for a fin,” he quips, and she slaps his arm.

Jean approaches, breathless and carrying a large flashlight.

“Hey lovebirds,” she teases, though by now they’ve become used to people commenting on what reads as a romantic connection between them that they’ve neither bothered to confirm nor deny. “Tami’s looking for ya, head on over to her office soon, okay?”

“Roger that, Jean,” Mulder says as he collects both he and Scully’s pie sticks and stands, then tows her up to stand as well.

They walk side by side across the darkened grounds, the buzz of the flood lights ringing in their ears. The constant noise from the rides, games, and customers starts to become unnoticeable after a few days, and it’s only when they stop that she realizes you can hear the chirp of crickets and the hush of highway traffic. A skinny yellow lab gallops up to them, and Mulder gives him a few pats on the head before telling him to go on. Summer told her they see a lot of strays hanging around no matter where they go, and figures they must follow the smell of the food until they end up at the fairgrounds.

When they enter Tami’s office, they find Chris and Damian already waiting in the two available chairs, so they stand awkwardly in the doorway of the small space. Tami is behind the desk, her hair wrapped up in a silk bonnet, and a Carhartt coat that is at least two sizes too big hangs from her shoulders.

“Okay, everybody’s here,” Tami says, collecting a stack of pre-filled checks in her hands. “Chris, Damian, you’ve done good, hard work this week. I thank you for your time, but we won’t be needing your services after tonight. You can clear out your bunks and head on home.”

Damian looks disappointed while Chris looks relieved, and they accept the proffered checks before leaving the trailer. Mulder and Scully remain standing, ready to take their own checks and go, but Tami gestures to the empty seats until they drop into them and look at her expectantly.

“Penelope and Luke, I hear great things from Summer and Madge. You’ve both got a lot of potential, and if you’re interested I’d like to invite you to go on with us to Kansas City. This isn’t a guarantee of full-season employment, but as long as you keep doing good work you should have the opportunity to stay on through September, if you’d like to.”

There is a beat of silence, and Tami narrows her eyes while a smile plays on her mouth, trying to discern whether they are pleasantly or unpleasantly surprised. Finally, Mulder speaks.

“Absolutely, Tami, thank you for the opportunity. I’d love to stay on,” he says.

“Me too,” Scully pipes in, remembering that this is the desired outcome. “That sounds great, thank you.”

“Perfect,” Tami says triumphantly. “This means you’ll help with slough. Nobody sleeps until we get the show loaded up and on the road to Kansas City. Penny, you’ll have to drive your trailer over there but Luke should be able to get some shut eye on the ride at least.”

“I can ride with Penny so we can drive in shifts,” Mulder offers, and Scully shoots him a look that tells him it was a too-familiar offer–Mulder speaking, not Luke. “If you want, I mean. Your call,” he adds, feigning disinterest.

“We’ll see,” Scully says, seeming similarly uninvested.

“It's only an hour to KC from here,” Tami comments, confused by the tension in the conversation. “Now that you’re regular crew, you’ll get a day off each week after we set up for opening at the new spot. If you need something to get you through slough, Picker is flush with beanies. Just don’t overdo it and get wiggy on me.”

They both nod, mutually understanding that whatever beanies are, they don’t want them.

“That’s it, get outta here and get to sloughin’,” Tami says with a wave of her arms, and they exit into the cool night.

On their way back towards the maintenance shed, in search of Summer and some direction regarding how they might go about assisting with slough, Scully sees the Princess Doraldina fortune teller machine sitting on a hand truck.

“Oh, have you seen this?” she says to Mulder, uncoiling the cord from the side of the machine and plugging it into a nearby power strip.

Mulder shoots her a skeptical look. “Have you gone to the dark side, Penny?” he asks, and she rolls her eyes.

“You know I don’t believe in it, it’s just fun. Do you have a nickel?”

Mulder fishes one out of his pocket and pops it into the machine, and they watch Doraldina begin to turn her head and wave her arm, her lifelike breathing making Mulder stick out his lower lip in a show of being impressed. The card pops out of the bottom and he reaches down to retrieve it.

“What does it say?” Scully asks, but as he opens his mouth to answer, Summer yells at them from several yards away.

“No, no no no, Penny, what are you doing?!” Summer says angrily, and they both turn to watch as she yanks the cord out of the power strip and moves to stand between Mulder and Doraldina.

“I was just showing him the fortune teller,” Scully explains, confused by Summer’s demeanor.

“I told you I don’t like just anyone touching her,” Summer says indignantly, leveling a glare on Mulder. “I don’t fucking know this guy.”

“I’m Luke, we’ve met several times,” Mulder says, confused.

“He’s my friend, Summer, it’s okay. He won’t do anything to her,” Scully elaborates, anthropomorphizing the machine as she’s heard Summer do.

“Did you put a nickel in?” Summer asks Mulder, and he nods, holding up the fortune.

“Cool. Don’t touch my shit again,” Summer spits at him, then strides off.

“I thought you said she seems even-keeled,” Mulder says to Scully as they watch Summer fade into the dark of night, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“She did,” Scully defends. “Until now.”

-

Twelve long hours later, the trucks are fully loaded and on the road to Kansas City. They, along with the crew in their personal vehicles, follow the directional arrows Jean left along the way when she set out hours ago to plot out the new site and clear the last of the permits needed for the show. Mulder sits behind the wheel of Scully’s pickup truck, the radio on low though he suspects not even a marching band in the seat beside her could wake her right now. Somewhere around 4:00 am they started to understand why beanies, or amphetamines, are a standard part of slough as the bone deep tired of a full day and then a full night of manual labor hit them. He being the one who fares better on lack of sleep made him the obvious choice for the one-hour drive to Kansas City, and Scully was asleep before they got to the highway.

He glances over at her, pink-cheeked from too much sun with remnants of grease still streaking her cheeks as she hasn’t yet showered and won’t have the chance to until the bunkhouse is set up at the new site. While the feeling he should have had when learning that they’d be staying on with the show is accomplishment for a job well done, he found that he was mostly just happy to get to continue seeing her this way: unpolished, dirty, rough around the edges. Some version of herself that he still hasn’t pinpointed as playing a part or just fully letting her guard down. Their midnight meetings on the grassy knoll quickly became his favorite part of the day, and the relentless teasing from other staff over their alleged budding romance made his heart swell as Scully blushed demurely. He feels like he doesn’t have to be so careful here, careful about what he says and does in her presence, how he touches her. He feels like he can just let his instincts drive, and those instincts tell him to soak up every second of her time he can manage, but not for any reason other than the joy of being near her.

She pulls in a deep breath, adjusting her head on the makeshift pillow she’s created out of a balled up sweatshirt and crammed against the door jam. He plucks the card he got from the fortune teller machine out of his breast pocket and taps it against the steering wheel, considering its meaning for at least the hundredth time since he got it.

True happiness lies on the other side of a leap of faith—if you are willing to risk the fall.

He puts the card back in his pocket, rolling his neck side to side for the stretch. The thing is, he’s willing to risk just about anything for a chance at something more with her, but he’s afraid that the one thing he isn’t willing to risk is the exact thing he’ll lose if he does take that leap. Her friendship, her trust, her presence in his life. He’s never understood the meaning of a catch 22 more than now, as he looks down the double barrel of this particular gun. One chamber holds the potential of getting to love Scully the way he truly wants to, and the other holds losing her altogether. The only way to find out which barrel will fire is to pull the trigger, to leap.

He knows he’ll do it, he has to. It’s become clear that it’s only a matter of when.

Tagging @today-in-fic

[rainbowloliofjustice]

So what’s this new art discourse about?

An artist is getting harassed again is the TLDR of it.

That is the link to the artist and even though they are getting a lot of flack they don't deserve in the QRTs, they've shot up from having 2k followers to having 4k while the person who is getting free art of their OC from clout chasers who only know how to use color picker and couldn't work with lighting to save their lives. The ""commissioner"" also privated their twitter presumably because they're getting even more flack due to the fact that this was the second time they comissioned the artist. You can also tell that english is not a first language for the artist but people are basically just lowkey racist by making fun of how they phrased their wording.

I honestly don't understand the point of commissioning someone if you were truly unhappy with how the first commission came out. It was only after the artist did multiple changes to accommodate that the ""commissioner"" decided that they did not want it anymore.

I also don't understand the point of commissioning someone and then being surprised that your character looks... like it was drawn by them. Like if I see an artist is always using desaturated colors, I wouldn't demand that they make my commission more saturated. It's like commissioning an oil painter and then after it's done telling them you're upset and don't want it because they didn't do it in acrylics... even though they literally don't use acrylics.

[breezingby]

The Clash ~ Rock the Casbah (Official Visualiser)

Now the king told the boogie men You have to let that raga drop The oil down the desert way Has been shakin' to the top The sheik he drove his Cadillac He went a' cruisin' down the ville The muezzin was a' standing On the radiator grille

The shareef don't like it Rock the Casbah Rock the Casbah The shareef don't like it Rock the Casbah Rock the Casbah

By order of the prophet We ban that boogie sound Degenerate the faithful With that crazy Casbah sound But the Bedouin they brought out The electric camel drum The local guitar picker Got his guitar picking thumb As soon as the shareef Had cleared the square They began to wail

The shareef don't like it Rock the Casbah Rock the Casbah The shareef don't like it Rock the Casbah Rock the Casbah

Now over at the temple Oh! They really pack 'em in The in crowd say it's cool To dig this chanting thing But as the wind changed direction And the temple band took five The crowd caught a whiff Of that crazy Casbah jive

The shareef don't like it Rock the Casbah Rock the Casbah The shareef don't like it Rock the Casbah Rock the Casbah

The king called up his jet fighters He said you better earn your pay Drop your bombs between the minarets Down the Casbah way

As soon as the shareef was Chauffeured outta there The jet pilots tuned to The cockpit radio blare

As soon as the shareef was Outta their hair The jet pilots wailed

The shareef don't like it Rock the Casbah Rock the Casbah The shareef don't like it Rock the Casbah Rock the Casbah

He thinks it's not kosher Fundamentally he can't take it You know he really hates it

[antoine-roquentin]

But Magaña says workers are still succumbing to the heat: He hears about three to five who die prematurely, from such things as strokes or heart attacks, every harvest season. Magaña attributes the stresses of working in high temperatures to these deaths, even if they don’t occur in the physical workplace.

“It’s always the same story — whatever the risk is, whether it’s a heat wave, air quality or covid,” said Elizabeth Strater, a director at United Farm Workers. “All of these things are going to cause more harm disproportionally to the people who are more vulnerable.”

Veronica Mota, 46, has been working in the fields for 20 years, harvesting such produce as blueberries, strawberries, oranges, onions, garlic, almonds and asparagus in the San Joaquin Valley.

The heat is a double-edged sword, she said: Growers shift their schedules earlier to avoid the worst heat of the day, but when it’s too hot, workdays get cut short, reducing paychecks.

Still, she is more concerned about getting heat stroke at work, saying she does not have health insurance.

She says she witnessed a fellow picker last year suffering on a hot day, with what she said she thought were signs of illness from the heat. The co-worker was picked up by an ambulance and recovered.

Oregon this month announced emergency rules mandating that employers provide cool water, adequate shade and rest breaks every two hours when the temperature in work areas, indoors or outdoors, exceeds 90 degrees.    

But those rules are temporary, leaving just three states with permanent heat-related rules: Washington, California and Minnesota. And even those are patchy, according to Teni Adewumi-Gunn, a climate change and worker health fellow at the Natural Resources Defense Council.

California, which mandates such protections as providing water, breaks and shade for outdoor workers,  has specific provisions for workers in agriculture, construction, landscaping, and oil and gas extraction.

And there is a growing push to establish national heat protection standards.

Legislation introduced in Congress in March would require OSHA to establish similar federal rules to protect workers in extreme heat conditions across the country. The agency is looking at other steps it can take.

“OSHA understands that heat is a growing problem and that workplace exposure to heat is a significant hazard and will become more critical as the impacts of climate change progress over time,” the agency said in a statement. “Climate change isn’t limited to a single job site, industry or geographic area, and the agency is aware of the effects of changing climate and extreme weather patterns on workers.”

OSHA said it is enforcing worker safety violations related to heat issues under its general duty clause, a broad mandate that requires companies to provide safe workplaces.

Marc Freedman, a vice president at the U.S. Chamber of Commerce, said that the organization wouldn’t have an official position on the regulation until it is drafted but that he was skeptical of what it could mean for business owners.

“It’s very difficult to regulate something like heat exposure,” he said. “We can all say there’s a hazard there, but reducing that to a question of a standard and when an employee is going to be in trouble and what that threshold of exposure is going to be for an employer to protect against is very vexing.”

California’s stringent rules do not apply to workers indoors — such as warehouse employees, whose ranks have grown significantly during the pandemic at companies such as Amazon, among others. (Amazon founder Jeff Bezos owns The Washington Post).

The heat has become so obtrusive — even during the overnight shift — at an Amazon warehouse in Southern California that at least one worker has started taking migraine pills to work to stave off the inevitable heat-related headaches.

to reiterate: there is no national law in america saying your employer can’t boil you to death