#Safe Cylinder Handling

[chemtrade]

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[potato-frenzy]

"Bill.....Bill? Billiammmmmm...Mr. Triangle Apocalypse Criminal Serving Time As A Dirty Human...."

Bill jolts hard enough to send his bowl of honeycomb cereal and oatmilk tottering across the table, hissing at what are soon to be blooming bruises on his knees. Sensory input rushing back in so fast he feels his vision white out, grey creeping in at the edges as his chest begins the jackhammering act again. "Oh my god! Don't die! Not like this! Holy crap, Dipper!"

He only distantly hears Mabel's voice as he slumps out of the kitchen chair, lost against the backdrop of bloodflow and electrical wiring in the walls. His head doesn't crack on the linoleum funnily enough and part of him notes it but the rest of him is lost in the whiteout of sensation assaulting all too human sense. Noise above everything but ligaments and cartilage are a horrible thing to be able to feel when those are elasticated a certain way. Smell never seems to be very obtrusive but tasting dust and wood and plastic as well a hundred other things in a space.

He's never really aware of how long these things last, but he knows that as long as he's not alone it's okay.

Eventually things settled, his awareness comes back to the background noise levels that humans are supposed to operate at. His nervous system no longer able to handle higher levels of input. He blinks away the white and spots and finds himself looking up at Dipper's stricken face and then he registers the taste of blood.

"Did you ......stick your hand in my mouth?" The fifteen year old Pines guiltily tucks bloodied fingers into a vest pocket. Bill can't muster the energy to roll his eyes as the frayed edges of lessening awareness ease.

Another set of hands helps him sit up and he feels his stomach flip uncomfortably. "Did Sixer never tell you that I have a bite clip for that, Pine Tree? It's literally like......in my pocket." Bill grumbles, almost slurred as the younger twins help him back into the chair.

"I was just reading the section of your care guide where the seizures were being covered when Mabel screamed so......" Dipper grumbles as his sister shoves him into another before going to get the first aid kit.

It's the first summer since his return to this reality that the two have spent with their uncles. The pair had reacted poorly at first, both convinced that Bill was playing some long con. But it wasn't very long before they realized he was genuinely helpless. Stanley being willing to care for him in this state, keeping non-dairy alternatives and other GI safe foods in the house so he doesn't die, was a big help.

"What triggered it? The guide said they weren't random. Ouch, Mabel!" Dipper hisses as his bleeding fingers are sprayed with peroxide and Bill has a moment to look at this face that he's looked out of at one point. The younger twins are as identical as their uncles, almost eerily so since Mabel got a pixie cut about two weeks into their stay.

"I don't know, all I was really aware of before everything started exploding was Glitterbomb on the phone with........Puma?"

"Her name is Fatma, Twinkmageddon!" An accusing, jingly, glitter acrylic nail tipped finger is jabbed in Bill's direction. Glitterbomb is a not inaccurate description of the femme Pines twin. Bedecked as she is in glittery resin jewelry, bedazzled denim, and chains dripping in brightly colored charms. "You know my girlfriend's name, you just refused to use it."

"Well excUuuUuse me, princess. I just had my jiggly brain loaf of grey matter firing on all cylinders to a degree that is considered unhealthy according to some. If I misremember a rando's name in the direct aftermath, I apologize." Bill drawls sarcastically, rolling his eyes hard enough to see camera flash after images and cracking his neck with concerningly loud pops like a BB gun.

"Enough," Dipper snaps, yanking on his sister's chain belt. She glares out of the corner of her eye as she returns to the task of patching her brother up. The masc twin groans at the bickering, not like he isn't just as prone to sniping about Bill's situation, but pulls the care guide out of his vest pocket. "I didn't read what the typical observed triggers were yet....."

"Pain or sensory overload or both." Bill answers before Dipper can find his place in the book again. Busily pretzeling his legs under himself as his heartrate takes it's sweet time returning to resting.

"Ah, okay.....Are the lights in here too much? Are you in pain?" Ever the scientist, his fringe falling his eyes as he leafs through the guide while he gathers data.

"Not any more than normal. Chapter 2, kemosabi."

"Right, your baseline is a 3. What could have set you off?" Dipper flexes his hand as the last Jurassic Park bandaid is secured to his fingers, the gears in his brain going as he mulls the presented problem.

"Well, I just know that he started spacing out while I was on the phone and then jumped like he got electrocuted when I touched him." Mabel jingles about, putting the first aid kit away grumpily.

"You ruined a good dissociation is what you did-"

"Oh my god! Too much sensory input due to coming back from a dissociative episode too quickly!" Bill can feel his heartrate spike, his ribs protesting by twitching threateningly, vision tinging grey slightly. Dipper sounds way too excited by the discovery.

"Congratulations on your breakthrough, Baby Einstein." Bill drawls again, slumping against the sticky surface of the kitchen table to steady himself.

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

I would die for Mabel Pines, that's my girl.

This piece is brought to you by my experience with pain/sensory seizures. The POTS symptoms are courtesy of my partner, the EDS is just for fun.

For reference, the first piece was six weeks into Bill's mortal tenure. This one is seven months in, the younger twins have been back for a month. This is the summer between their freshman and sophomore years of highschool. They're turning sixteen at the end of the summer.

Still mulling Dipper's evolution, but, Mabel is a baby lesbian and basically glitter punk. Her girlfriend is trans btw.

[hirocimacruiser]

Honda Civic brochure pages.

CIVIC

The Super Civic was a new trend car with economy and dynamic performance suited to the 1980s.

1300 S

1500 SC

It perfectly combines the best fuel economy in the 1500cc class with powerful driving performance.

Resource and energy conservation are common themes around the world. The new CIVIC is available with a new engine system that takes advantage of the excellent combustion efficiency of the lean burn method, which is the greatest advantage of the CVCC engine. It offers not only excellent fuel economy, but also low maintenance costs and a low price.

10 mode driving, Ministry of Transport inspection value

1500CE model E-SR 18 km/l

60km/h constant speed test value

28km/l 1500CE, GF (5 door) Model E/SR, Model E-ST

And yet, it still has the powerful driving feel of a sports car. It's truly a Super Civic.

For example, the new cliff-cut panel in front of the passenger seat provides enough space that there is no need to push the seat back.

An aerodynamic body that provides a smooth ride.

The styling minimizes air resistance and is focused on practical aerodynamics. It is agile in urban areas and stable and smooth on the highway. The new suspension grips the road firmly.

The springs of the front and rear suspensions have been offset to provide a more comfortable ride. The rear also uses a new Honda-style strut system, a world first, to ensure sufficient compliance. The suspension is much tighter.

1300・5-door LX

A new instrument panel.

The functions necessary for driving are concentrated around the driver. The centralized target meter () that places the speedometer and tachometer in one view, as well as the newly designed rotary channel radio, are also standard equipment. The design is easy to see and use.

A large, international-sized interior designed for the world.

Compared to conventional 5-door vehicles, the interior length is 25 mm longer and the interior width is 35 mm wider. Furthermore, the clever use of each space has resulted in an amazingly efficient interior.

All models are fully open hatchbacks.

It is a big opening that opens to the full width of the body from a low position, that is, just above the bumper. Moreover, the interior floor is low and flat. Large and wide objects can be easily loaded. The three-stage variable rear seat is extremely practical. It is a design that prioritizes ease of use.

1500 3door CX

Wild ride. CX

1500 3door CE

CIVIC

1500 5door CF

1300・3-door SE Model E-SL Engine model EJ ●CVCC・1,335cm2・Water-cooled inline 4-cylinder horizontally mounted OHC-68 horsepower ●Fuel economy 22km/ℓ(60km/h・flat road test value)●Front-wheel drive●Overall length 3,760mmOverall width 1,580mm ●Strut-type four-wheel independent suspension●Front-wheel disc brakes ●4-speed

1500, 3-door CE, Model E-SR, Engine model EM CVCC-1.488cm2, water-cooled in-line 4-cylinder, horizontally mounted, OHC-80 horsepower, Fuel economy 28km/ℓ (60km/h, constant speed test value), 18km/ℓ (10 mode running, Ministry of Transport review value), Front-wheel drive, Overall length 3,760mm, Overall width 1,580mm, Strut-type four-wheel independent suspension, Front wheels, Disc brakes with servo, 5-row

*1500-3 door SE is made to order.

If you're looking for a Civic, visit your local Honda dealer.

CIVIC VAN

Gentle on luggage and gentle on people. The capable Civic Van is born.

The luggage compartment is 1,520mm long (with two occupants), 1,270mm wide at its widest point, and 805mm high, making it spacious and easy to handle. Highly refined quality. Powerful and robust dynamic performance. Extremely quiet and safe, this is the birth of a reliable business car that pursues a high level of harmony between passengers and business.

1300-5 door SV, LV model J-VC Engine model EN 1,335cm * Water-cooled inline 4-cylinder horizontal OHC, 70 horsepower ● Fuel economy 18.5km/(60km/h, constant speed test value) ● Front wheel drive ● Overall length 3,995mm, overall width 1,580m, overall height 1,385mm ● Front wheel servo disc brakes ● 4-speed

[hazard-symbols-that-fuck-hard]

CYLINDER may explode if damaged.

7.a. Use only compressed gas cylinders containing the correct shielding gas for the process used and properly operating regulators designed for the gas and

pressure used. All hoses, fittings, etc. should be suitable for the application and maintained in good condition.

7.b. Always keep cylinders in an upright position securely chained to an undercarriage or fixed support.

7.c. Cylinders should be located:

•Away from areas where they may be struck or subjected to physical damage.

•A safe distance from arc welding or cutting operations and any other source of heat, sparks, or flame.

7.d. Never allow the electrode, electrode holder or any other electrically "hot" parts to touch a cylinder.

7.e. Keep your head and face away from the cylinder valve outlet when opening the cylinder valve.

7.f. Valve protection caps should always be in place and hand tight except when the cylinder is in use or connected for use.

7.g. Read and follow the instructions on compressed gas cylinders, associated equipment, and GA publication P-1,

"Precautions for Safe Handling of Compressed Gases in Cylinders," available from the Compressed Gas Association

1235 Jefferson Davis Highway, Arlington, VA 22202.

[bleedingichorhearts]

𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐌𝐚𝐲: 𝐗𝐞𝐫𝐱𝐞𝐬

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: Switched this one up a little.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets, @bispecsual, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog.

TW // Entrapment.

|°𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬°| |°ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ ᴀᴘᴘʟɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ°| • {𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧} • {𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐤} • {𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬}

The blue armored Space Marine eyes darted around at every dark corner before clearing them safe to continue on with his assignment. His hearing pricked for anything that moves out of place as he smells the dusty ventilation in the human base, a little huff leaving him. So unclean.

There were many things covered in multiple layers of dust; having been an abandoned base when a mixed band of Iron Warriors and Iron Hands cleared it out before some… authority could get to it to handle it properly. It has been abandoned since, the previous humans never coming back twice unless they have a met a rather unfortunate fate with the previous legions that had rioted the base. It was also too unorganized for his tastes; with files and smeared papers being scattered about, but he doesn’t reflect too much on it since it was abandoned after all. He shouldn’t dwell on how filthy it was when battlefields itself was foul. He’s been stained in his opposite colors before.

Turning a corner, he leans down through a heavy metal archway with the double heavy door being smashed right through and onto the cement flooring into the room as he looked down at it, slightly amused. Seems like his cousins didn’t take too kindly in their raid. Unfortunate, for the humans and their weak technology attempt to keep Astartes out of where they don’t want them to be.

Looking up and stepping over the door. He slowly checks around this room in the base, problem by problem. Eyeing everything down for a presentable report back to his higher ranked brethren.

More papers and files were scattered everywhere around the room, on the floor and metal tables. A layer of dust coating the abandoned surfaces of where work used to be. Broken vials and cups littering the grounds with a strange, black, gooey-like substance following some of the broke shards. Coffee he figures, or mixed water, depending on its old, rotten scent.

Stoping next to a metal table. He carefully picks up a piece of old paper from it, dust partials flowing off it as he reads the human words on it. His helmet translating some of the words he can’t quite place with the smudged ones.

— Is a creature of the Bathypelagic Zone or knows as the Midnight Zone. This creature is not be taken L—. Considering it appearance of remarkable scales and graceful fins, but it is the exact —. Though, it’s scales p— a hefty profit. Beware of his tail and — claws. It is astonishing we d—‘t have anything else on this —, but in time we will. May the — light our path.

Warning: It’s not to be out of its containment, or fed — meals a day.

A creature? How could the humans get their hands on a clearly undocumented creature? A creature confined in its space? He knows they have documented Whales, but he surprised by humans sometimes, and their capability to do the biggest things despite their smaller size. He shakes his helmet.

Is this creature still here? He can’t find anything on this piece of paper of its location, only what it would be housed in. A cylinder, high-strength acrylic filled with gallons of salt water, just like the one in the middle of the room.

Lifting his eyes from the paper. He looks at the cylinder in the middle of the room almost expectingly, waiting for such a creature to burst for it. Until he quickly realizes it has been covered with a tarp, nailed down at the base of the chamber. How could have the other legionnaires miss this? It was their duty and training to search everything out of order! Perhaps, they were Neophyte’s? Rogue scout’s, undocumented?

He nearly rolls his eyes, but huffs instead. Placing the old paper back down on the metal table where he found it. Undocumented scouts would make his mission a bit harder to do since he’ll have to find out who was responsible for the operation. He hopes some Alpha Legionnaires have something on them so he can get all his demanding paper work done in a record time.

He takes steps forward towards the covered cylinder and put a gauntlet on it, hesitating for just a moment before he quickly pulls it off with a whip. Dust immediately falling off the cover as the bolts holding the tarp down snap, flying into random directions that he doesn’t care of. What he cares of is the creature inside of the aquarium. Bright, aquatic light blinding his for a second.

What he expected was nothing like what he saw. His eyes briefly blinking rapidly at the figure before him. He could have never unveiled such a creature before him. Those deep, preying eyes looking down at him like it knew all his secrets while its fins flowed gracefully through the waters of the huge cylinder aquarium that was surprisingly the most clean thing in this base.

His helm tilts when his eyes roams over its scales with the creatures head following along, watching him in turn. It— her scales rather radiant in the light of the aquarium with a few scarred and missing. Her tail flowing gracefully around the rock she took to curl around on.

So, this is the creature the paper speaks so… dangerously of? Sure she was bigger than him by a torso, but she doesn’t look much of a threat. Instead, she looks more… oddly attractive and he doesn’t find it weird himself that he is finding this attraction at such a creature that looked half human and fish.

Perhaps, his report can wait just a little bit? He can contact some Alpha legionnaires to help his case.

[meli-writes]

Prescription

/// CW: peril (gunpoint), dubious consent, impact play, partial nudity, whorephobia, and mention of transphobia. ///

The handle came away with an unsettling clatter but, greatly relieving for Lili, could tumble safely away to the carpet. Every other mansion she’d seen was floored-to-ceiling’d with rich, deepening hardwoods as percussive as they were unethically imported.

Someone at last had the unwise taste to make things a bit softer, and no one would hear Lili’s heels clacking away then back to the evening’s do.

She pressed the door openly, slipping through the gap into a gently-lit abyss. No one would notice. Lili turned to peer behind the door and felt a warm, metal cylinder press itself against her cheek. At least that’s what she thought.

The fireplace twinkled and crackled slowly in the shadow’s eyes, Lili looked away burning with terror while her body froze in place. “Gotcha.”

“Goodness me, awfully sorry Mam. Just— getting myself lost is all now.” Perhaps the definitely mob-affiliated lady, tucked away in a dead-quiet study, hadn't just heard several minutes of failed lockpicking, followed by some furious few minutes of unscrewing.

“Hmm. I don’t think I’m as sure, my eyes have followed you all evening, darling. Has something been making you nervous?”

“No no, Mam. Quite ordinary for my face, always greeting with anxiety. And come to mention it, I’m here with—” Smack.

Before she could dare wonder where the barrel was the shadow had circled round and spanked her, then pressed the pistol harshly into the curve of her back, forcing her forward into the room’s centre, away from escape.

“What is it you're looking for?”

“Oh nothing important— please— just, the bathroom?”

Lili hadn’t hydrated for hours beforehand, spiro would get in her way, so even a few sips of dinner’s rosy pairing had left her lightheaded. The shadow’s disbelief smouldered in the pause, before it slammed the door shut and sent Lili’s nails digging into her palms.

“You’ll have your knees on my rug now, darling. Any other move and pop.”

She would have stayed frozen without the fire, it wasn’t the worst to sink down next to it, and most of her was pretty bare at the moment.

Lili held herself close, and still, but her eyes searched till she spied the iron poker just outwith her reach. It was a bit of hope.

“Now, I’m going to need you to answer at least one of my questions properly, or your evening will be much less pleasant than the rest of my guests.”

My rug. My guests. Oh no. “Who do you work for?”

“I was oh—” The shadow uncast itself and she was— incredible. High-heeled boots fell away to a dark and silken affair that made sure to demonstrate every muscle on her.

Lili shuddered, and not only from base intimidation, as a clutch bag was plucked from her fingers. “—accompanying a gentleman, Mam. I work a shop, but… sometimes find myself needing the help.”

The lady pulled a high-cheek higher — stretching lips, painted like dark chocolate, into a grimace. She was perusing through the bag, tossing out six sizes of condom, a packet of makeup wipes, a small granola bar and—

“Hmm, lying.”

—the German-made subcombat was perhaps too much of an upgrade over the typical prostitute’s derringer. It was disarmed quickly and placed on the desk, far out of reach.

“Don’t tell me it’s for self-protection.”

Technically that wasn’t a question, so Lili kept silent. She looked again at the poker — that was closer, for now — but the lady could see her twitching in place. Ca-click.

“Bend over.”

Lili’s breath roared over the flames, hot and heavy with muffled panic.

“I told you, if you won’t tell me when I ask you, then you’ll tell me when I hurt you. Now bend the fuck over.”

Her head juddered, trying to stay up as she bent herself down. Suddenly, desperately, she pulled back up. “Wait! It’s— there’s a rival. But I can’t say more—”

A boot hoisted itself over Lili’s shoulder and stomped her into the carpet, sending her dress rising over her ass. “Because they’ll kill you?”

The sharpened heel dug into her shoulder blade. A smile from above watched as Lili chafed her cheek against the floor, nodding in awkward terror.

The heel pulled free so the lady might kneel down and draw Lili’s face up to hers, the other hand finding itself wrapped around the taught hem of her dress. “Darling, if that’s all you plan to say then I’m going to be the one killing you. And there’s a lot that could happen between when I would, and when they would."

She pulled, exposing terribly insubstantial lingerie and sending the thief sprawling into her own bosom, face blooming red as the thief attempted to withdraw.

“Back down, darling.”

Lili pressed her face against the rug, felt the heat licking at her nearly bare arse, not seeing the crop now resting in the lady’s hands. “It’s, respectfully, more complicated than that, Mam. They’re holding something that I rather need— AHhh.”

The pain was quick, sharp, and heavy. The only relief a better, if bitter, understanding for her present position.

“Continue.” That was just her testing Lili, enjoying her.

“She’s got a hold on all my— Ahh.” Lighter. Lili had slipped and not noticed. “—meds, she has my medication. AHHHh.” Harder, the lady’s twisted version of a reward.

“What kind?” Crop falling before Lili could speak again.

“EEek. Hormones, they’re hormones. I’m—” Lili felt it resting on her, waiting. “Fuck, Mam. I’m a tranny, okay?” She felt the pad drawn up her back, shivering as it slowly pulled away.

“Quite the blasphemous word for yourself, darling. And who is she?”

Lili couldn’t answer that, she couldn’t. If she wasn’t screwed already this would kill her for sure. The rug was stained by a few heated tears, but she hadn’t felt it come back down—

Thwack. The lady’s sympathies had harsh, impatient limits it seemed.

“YAAAHaha. Fuckin’ hells. It’s Coloski, Reb Coloski.”

Lili tried to peek up but was quickly shoved back down, crop pressing against her temple as the lady mused. “Fucking bitch. And how’d you end up stealing for her?”

“I was—” Lili breathed in, and out. It was too late to deal out half-truths. “I ran out of my meds, and they refused me anymore and I couldn’t go back, okay? So, worked the few connections I had, Mam, and I guess it— worked its way up the chain.”

The lady eyed Reb’s thief, her thief now. Every family traded in debts but Coloski always loved to play with vulnerability.

“And now you don’t get any more — until a job is done?”

“No, I— Ahh.”

Not that she didn’t love it also, but this kind was insulting — and not for her to play with.

“Straighten up, darling. Pull those legs apart for me.” Even if the dress wasn’t hiked it wouldn’t have helped now.

Her cock pressed against the ungenerous mesh at her front, the lady brushing her crop against it, drawing it along her thigh, begging to drive out more answers. Or perhaps just a few more squeals.

“She make you do anything else?”

“I’ve had to do things for jobs, Mam, but not for her— Eeeh.” It stinged much more here. The lady need only swipe over, not under, and leave Lili with little padding to save her. “But, she promised she’d help me — Ahh — promised I’d be out of her debt for this job."

“She set you up.”

Lili shivered and blinked, looked at her with dumb shock. A quick smack was enough to squeal her back to her senses. “Eeee-ahh. W-What do you mean?”

“She’s done it before.” The lady nodded her head to the side. “How much do you know about the Victorinos?”

“Only that is their mansion. Boss went missing some years back but then in comes this woman, sister I think, and takes over in his stead. Not my place to ask why, Mam.”

She bent down, graced Lili’s lips for a terrifying moment. Her hair was composed into long, black waves, with a rather predominant nose imposing its own beauty on her face.

She looked in Lili’s eyes and purred.

“This woman.”

“M-m-m-miss Victorino?”

“Yes, darling?” This thief was all hers now. “Did you think I was another lost guest, like you?”

Lili tried, unsure of what she’d even say, to answer. “I— AHHHhh.” It was swift, and hard, and landed much closer to her centre than was bearable.

Vic — Miss Victoria Victorino — was talking now, and her thief needed to shush.

“Bitch sent you into Dante’s Inferno, where it would be quite undue on my reputation for anyone to walk out.”

She started padding the crop against Lili, who tensed at its rhythm and found herself blushing and hardening in response. “There’s a mutual agreement I think, if one meant to test me, to let me dispose of one of her more useless tools, from time to time.”

“Dispose?” THWACK. “YAAAaaah.”

“Kill.”

Vic narrowly missed the luridly pitched lace between Lili’s legs. On purpose — the threat brought her enough joy and there wasn’t quite such an evocative pain to draw from messy, jumbled parts.

Tears parted from the thief’s eyes. “Are you gonna?”

Vic sighed, giving Lili a soft, crooning show of sympathy. Laying the crop behind her and sinking down to Lili’s side, holding stiff as Vic’s arms wrapped around her.

“You’re still a thief, and a liar, and I can’t let you go— but—”

She grabbed Lili by the chin, squishing her cheeks and forcing her to look at a very, very particular cabinet, its contents exposed by crystal glass.

“—do you know what your prescription is?”

---

Lili was still scrambling herself back together as she hurried back to the lobby, pulling her dress the pitiful distance down she could. Miss Victorino was shortly behind her, and even if she tried to run first she’d have to get past—

“There you are, whore. What’re you doing?” Lili's gentleman had his fingers clutched viciously around the whole of her arm, pulling her against a dusty, velvet coat. “Waiting till I’m drunk so you can sneak off without doing what I paid you so damn much for?”

The cheapest bastards always expected the most for it. “N-no sir, but—”

“But nothing. I paid you. You fuckin’ belong to me—”

Lili could hear boots where the carpet ended. Feeling a far tighter grip work its way around her other arm, as the man began to stutter. “W-w-woah, hey! Boss Vic! Man!”

“This one’s mine now, Harv.” Lili saw his eyes widen, for a moment in annoyance, then in fear. He gave way as Vic pulled. “Tell the footman what she owes you, and the right amount. You’ll get double that for your trouble.”

“Of course, ‘course Boss. I won’t forget to—”

“Now. And don’t fucking harass the staff on the way out.” He scrambled, and at least wasn’t Lili’s problem anymore.

Vic groaned in frustration. “And, he in on it?”

Lili was too close to look up, so just shook her head. This part wasn’t a lie. Coloski gave her medication, but Lili still needed the money. And she couldn’t be blamed for a double booking when it’s what got her in here.

“Shame. He calls me man again and he’ll be wishing it was merely treachery. Now, about you– hmm.”

Vic’s closeness was having a certain effect on Lili. She belonged to Vic now, her mind familiar with an ecstatic mote of what that meant.

But whether it was better or worse than Reb, it wasn’t good — the humiliating delirium that fear held over her was clearly visible to Vic. And, to everyone else in view.

Vic pulled Lili close to her chest, running fingers through her hair, bestowing a dignity though only so she could make her lose it again later.

“I think I've entertained enough guests for tonight, you however have scarcely begun.”

---

(Masterpost)

originally written on cohost 10/12/2023, in response to Make Up A Criminal's prompt:

Mob Boss who looks a lot different than they used to

[askthechronoverse]

Last Chapter •||• Next Chapter

The two kids approached a red and green shack that looked like a small house and felt like it was both there forever and a fly by night sight. The bushes and trees held galaxies of colored and white lights and a sign indicated that an S. Claus resided there. Kevin told her to stay back as he headed for the door and was greeted by a teenager in an elf costume. As Kevin spoke to her, Kit watched the people walking on the square. She fought back the intrusive thoughts that this was a wild goose chase and a waste of time. Kevin said he would help her and maybe stopping the bad guys in the van was key to revealing the foundation element. She was snapped out of her thoughts by Kevin calling her name. He was now next to a large man in a long dark jacket. Under that jacket was an outfit of velvet red. His beard was long and white. She rushed over to them and gasped. He was talking to Santa Claus! Kevin has one heck of a hookup!

“Kit, can you tell this guy what you're looking for? This is my guy. He works for Santa.” Kevin pointed to the man, who was checking his watch. Kit's mind ran through what she needed quickly, but one wish rose to the surface and locked itself into being.

“I… I just want my dad back. I know that's selfish. I know I don't deserve it. I just want him back.” Kit was barely able to choke out the words, despite saying them the whole journey like an incantation. The man dressed as Santa looked completely taken off guard, brows now burrowing into the middle of his face.

“Well… Hang on. We ran out of candy canes because of some kids who took too many, but everyone who sees Santa gets… something.” As he dug through his pockets, Kevin protested. The Santa waved him off and pulled out a box of mints. “Hold out your paws, kids.” He took Kevin's mittened hand, then Kit's and tapped a total of three cylinder shaped mints into their palms. “Don't spoil your dinners.” The two said they wouldn't and left the Santa behind.

“That was a really good idea, Kevin! Santa should be able to help us.” Kit was fighting her emotions at this point, struggling to stay emotionally stable.

“Yeah, thanks! I'm surprised you didn't ask for your special thing. Would your dad help you find it?” The two walked past the chapel and were greeted by the sound of children singing. Kevin stopped to listen and turned to walk in. He gestured for her to follow and Kit ran in after him, wondering if the lady in black was still there. She didn't have to wonder for long.

“Hello again, child!“ The nun beamed as she tapped Kit's shoulder. “I was hoping to see you again. Did you find your special object?” Kit shook her head. “I would still be happy to help. What are you looking for?”

“It's just… old and magical. I don't know.” Kit's shoulders dropped. The woman frowned, but not for long.

“I don't know about old, but what you might call magic might be different to different people. There's a kind of magic in everything. That's what my father told me. There's magic in cold lemonade on a warm summer day and even in the singing of our children's choir.” She waved widely to the children singing in the large room in front of them. “The feeling of helping others is a kind of magic as well, a powerful one.”

“Is it magic to do something good for… selfish reasons?” Kit watched the choir sing, amazed by how coordinated everything was.

“What are the reasons?” The woman asked, disarmingly calm.

“I'm trying to find the special thing to get my dad back. He's gone and-” Kit began to cry a little. The woman offered her a tissue, which she took.

“I'm sorry for your loss, child. Losing someone you love isn't something that most adults know how to handle sometimes. Surely, if this special thing was important to your father, it makes sense you want to have it to keep him close. What was important to your father?”

“Um… our home. He always says that he fought to keep our home safe. And our family? His friends?” She spoke between sobs.

“Those are the things you want to keep close. Your father left a bit of himself in all of those things. Even now that he is no longer with you, he's still there.” The nun nodded as Kit let the idea sink in. “Wanting someone you lost isn't selfish, but honoring their memory is a better way to live.”

“So, it's OK for me to want to do stuff for him?”

“You wouldn't be doing it for him. You would be doing it because of him.” Her face lit up as Kit's did, excited by her realization. “Do you understand?” Kit nodded. “Good. I know that what I provided isn't physical. But I hope it helped.” Kevin tapped Kit's shoulder as he passed. “Looks like your friend is ready to go. Merry Christmas, child.” The church bells had started ringing at this point, sounding out that it was 8:00. Kevin grabbed her hand and dragged her out of the cathedral.

“We have an hour.” She said as the two ran to Kevin's house. “Do you have a plan?” Kevin nodded, the two sliding into his lawn and through the back door. He quickly whipped out a crayon drawn map of his house that childishly proclaimed that it was his battle plan. They outlined where certain pitfalls could be placed from Christmas ornaments to… fire? Heavy cans? Kevin meant business.

“I… I don't know about some of these. Are we trying to hurt them?”

“They'll be fine.” There was a slight inking of uncertainty in Kevin's voice, but Kit wasn't going to push any further. Maybe people from this world were just more resilient? “You can put down the ornaments, feathers, and the Micro Machines. I'll take care of the rest.” Kevin walked off and came back with pillows and a box full of round ornaments and tiny vehicles. “Just follow the battle plan. We can take them on together.” He held out his hand and Kit took it. They shook hands and went their separate ways to set their traps.

It wasn't long before their work was done. Kevin waited at the side entrance while Kit waited in the treehouse. She waited for her cue as she watched the burglars try to break into the house and be foiled by Kevin’s ingenuity. She kept her focus, but once the bandits had gotten into the house, her mind went to the words of the woman in black. Do things because of her father, not for him. The words sank in her mind like cold air on a warm day. Both her fathers were brave and noble, despite the things they've done. RJ turned his whole life around to help people with the technology he stole and Richard did everything in his power to protect the whole kingdom from harm, even though hiding the history of said kingdom was terrible.

Save the multiverse because of them, not for them.

Would they even be proud of her at the end of the journey? Would they ever even know what she did? She supposed these were the same thoughts going through Kevin's mind. She had more evidence than her partner in crime that the answer to the second question was probably no. If anything, she'd probably be grounded for leaving her aunt and uncle's house. Did that matter? She supposed not.

The sound of grunting from outside grabbed Kit's attention. She grabbed a pair of hedge trimmers and flew to the entrance of the treehouse. As Kevin had predicted, the bandits were climbing on a rope to her hideout. The bald bandit, whose cap was now burnt at the top, gasped.

“There's two of them! Marv, turn around!” The words barely left his lips before the two scrambled to get back to where they came from.

“Sorry guys. I didn't agree to the flamethrowers. You really shouldn't be breaking into somebody's house, you know.” She struggled with her task, but eventually the line connecting the house to the treehouse was cut in two. The bandits swung on the rope and into the side of the house. Kit cringed. Would they be OK? She knew they were the bad guys, but that still looked like it hurt. She watched the bandits scramble to their feet and follow Kevin to a house nearby. Kit saw an intimidating looking man leave his house with a shovel. She leaned out the window of the treehouse and waved to get the man's attention. He looked from her to the house and the bandits’ retreating backs and nodded. She then ran to the house to call the police. The sound of sirens signaled to her that this was all over.

As the police took the bandits away, Kevin returned to her. “Are your parents going to get mad at you?”

“The cops say that they'll explain it to my parents when they get home. I just need to call them and tell them.” Kevin rubbed his head. “Thanks for your help. I'm sure they would have gotten away without you.”

“I don't think I really did that much, Kevin.” Kit admitted. “You did all the brave stuff. I just cut a cord and called for help.”

“That was still really helpful.” He looked at the icy stairs and sighed. “We probably should clean all this up.” Kit nodded and got to work helping Kevin clean, working long into the night until the two collapsed into sleep.

Kit woke up later that morning, awoke to the sound of a loud ruckus in the house. She trotted down the stairs and was met with a flood of other people. At the center of it all was Kevin and the red-haired woman from the photo. Kevin waved for her to come over as the woman looked at the girl very confused.

“And it looks like you invited a friend. I'm glad you weren't totally alone?” Kit nodded, a little bit intimidated on how large Kevin's family truly was. “Do you want me to call your parents? I'm sure they want you home for Christmas day. “

“I'm sure they want me home period. I still have something I need to do before I go though.” Kit turned to leave. She barely got out the door before Kevin stopped her.

“Hey, wait!” She turned around, seeing that Kevin had something in his hands. “I wanted to give you something.” He held an antique bronze star tree topper. “I know this is our tree star and you probably have your own but… I hope you find your dad. Your wish needs to come true too. “ She took the star and it finally clicked. The power that she felt when she was decorating the tree with Kevin was from this. Maybe her wish was being granted after all. She placed the star into her messenger bag and sighed softly.

“Thank you, Kevin. I'm glad you got your family back.” She started to head toward town. As she got out of Kevin's sight, she fell through a portal that had opened underneath her.

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

Part of stolen radioactive material found in São Paulo

Police in São Paulo have recovered a part of radioactive material stolen on June 30, in the east of Brazil’s biggest city. Last week, the National Nuclear Energy Commission (CNEN), affiliated with the Science and Technology Ministry, issued a public alert following the theft, warning that the improper handling of the stolen material could pose significant health risks.

According to Medical Armazenagem Logística e Distribuição Ltda, the radioactive material was separated into five clearly marked lead cylinders and was stored inside a company pickup truck parked outside an employee’s home, in the São Paulo neighborhood of São Mateus.

The recovered material was found on Saturday in a battery shop in a nearby neighborhood. The establishment was isolated and radiation levels were tested, but the locale was found to be safe. One of the storage cylinders had been located a day before at a chop shop, where stolen cars are dismantled to be sold for parts. The clandestine business was also tested extensively for high levels of radiation, but was deemed safe.

Continue reading.

[phoenixyfriend]

@jewishdainix commented on this post:

The thing is, israel must be dismantaled because it is built on xenophobia, nationalism and subjeugation of palestinians. I agree with you on the worry of jewish safety, but that needs to be done by fostering and building communities of both nations of people, where both are welcome and safe, not by keeping an opressive colonialist state with no interest in equality or peace in power.

And Im saying this as a jew who lives in occupied palestine, btw. I know co-existing eont come out of nowhere, but it can be built.

(New post because the original is very long.)

Thank you for commenting! Most of the commentary I'm getting seems to be from people who are as removed from the conflict as I am.

I think a major factor in the discussion that stemmed from my initial response to the first "r u pro Palestine" question was that I was... well, very tired and not running on all cylinders, for one, but also in an intersection of Tumblr that sees a lot of half-baked political reblogs where people just... share things they either don't know ANYTHING about or don't realize how much is our isn't propaganda.

I am not immune to propaganda, especially the subtler kind, as evidenced by my having to adjust my understanding of the Yemen situation.

But the thing is that like... that intersection means I've seen a LOT of takes that are extreme (like Hamas and the Houthis being entirely right about Israel and how to handle it, or that even the children in Israel, by virtue of being Israeli, are guilty) as well as a lot of people who are supporting extreme solutions without really thinking things through?

Like, the majority of the people I see talking about Dismantling Israel seem to be in favor of doing so quickly and without regard to what happens to the people there, Because They're The Bad Guys, or because they just don't realize that this is the sort of thing that takes time and management to do safely.

Like... when I see so many people parroting things with an underlying tone of hate and malice towards even the civilians, it makes me concerned that any expression of support for a position like "dismantle Israel" will be taken as support by both "do so slowly and responsibly with an aim towards integration and safety for all" AND the "boot out all the jews" sides, because when the first question is only four words, I can't also answer in only four words, because political slogans are never JUST what they actually mean.

That said, the discussion over the past few days definitely has me sympathizing more with the Dismantle argument, but I do wonder about how it would be enforced, and by whom. Like, the Israeli government has made it pretty clear they have no interest in ceasefire, let alone a dismantling, so... does the UN get involved? NATO? Is the US sent in to undo Israel, the way they're trying to undo things like the Houthi government (as I've been told they're functionally the government of 70% of Yemen)? What gives us people of the world the right to choose interventionism in Israel but not Yemen or Iran?

Just cutting US aid from Israel opens the doors to Hamas and Houthi and associated groups "managing" the dismantling, which is the situation I expressed so much concern over in the previous post, so that's not an option. It looks like we do need the UN to be involved if that goal of Dismantling to build something new is possible, but that's interventionism, which is bad because it violates self-determination, except when it's not bad because there's mass murder happening, except when it's still bad even though the mass murder already happened, and...

IDK

It's so complicated and I WANT to believe there's a solution but the political philosophy and practical implications are kind of. A necessary consideration even when the ethics are clear cut.

[gwendolyn-of-loxley]

Tali'Zorah had gained weight, and she didn't know how to feel about it.

As she stared into the mirror, she recalled her slimmer figure that she'd had for most of her life, and with it, the pangs of hunger. On the Flotilla, food sanitation was too big of a contamination risk, so the diets of every quarian consisted largely of vegan nutrient paste. It was not filling, and it was far from exciting. It was not impossible to safely decontaminate an actual dish, but logistically, it was too taxing en masse.

When Rannoch was recolonized, the geth were instrumental in helping acclimate the quarian populace to various pathogens, and in establishing stable crop yields. The quarians could chew again. They could cook. They could feast. And as a result, many visibly gained weight, including the Admiral of Domestic Engineering. And she didn't know how to feel.

Billboards, ad cylinders, commercials, especially those made on Earth and Palaven, seemed to worship weight-loss. Tali wasn't exactly a fan of these companies, but the exposure was wearing her down. Turning, she took note of her softer belly and wider torso. She very much had what humans called "love handles." Additionally, her arms were less taught, and her thighs and calves had thickened. Her face had even become that much rounder.

Was she too heavy? Was it unattractive? Was--

Tali's musings were interrupted when the bedroom door opened. Turning around, her gaze met John's. His body shone with sweat; he must have been working in the garden again.

Almost as soon as he saw her, he smiled. Tali loved that smile. It was earnest, and kind, and always, always full of love. Without thinking much, the quarian strode toward him, closing the distance and hugging him tightly. She didn't care that he stank a little, or that his body was stiflingly hot in the cool air of the room. She loved the way he looked at her, the way he smiled at her. It wasn't any less since they'd first gotten together, and that's how she knew that her weight was meaningless.

On the subject of weight, John had gained some of his own over the years, and she was far from complaining. His belly and triceps had put on some looser material, the definition of his muscles (which he still very much had) becoming somewhat obscured. Having been surrounded by pipes, circuits, metal walls, and tight suits her whole life, Tali was grateful to have soft, organic tissue to snuggle. If anything, their accumulated pounds were indicative of peacetime, of rest they had earned.

John quickly returned the hug, giving a gentle kiss to the top of his wife's head. "I appreciate the hug, but you're awfully quiet. Everything okay?"

"Everything is perfect," she replied. She pulled away just enough to look at him. "Although, my husband just covered me in dirt and sweat. It would be incredibly irresponsible of him not to let me shower with him."

John smirked, and in a swift motion, quickly picked up his wife in a bridal hold. "I think I can oblige."

[stories-of-the-nrm]

The Fallen King

The Flying Scotsman rolls into the station at the end of a busy day.

Scott: Ahhh. Another successful non-stop run. The A3s will run this railway for years to come.

His driver, William winces.

William: I wouldn't say that, Scott. I've heard some rumors that Sir Nigel Gresley is set to put his latest design, the A4 into service next month.

Scott uncharacteristically splutters and turns red with annoyance.

Scott: This is preposterous! Have I not proven my worth to Sir Nigel Gresley? I can't just be replaced as if I haven't been operating this incredible service to the railway for over 10 years.

William: Shhh. Steady old boy. Just because the design is meant to provide high speed passenger rides, doesn't mean you will be replaced.

Scott: I sure hope so, William.

Time Skip

One day in 1938, Sir Nigel Gresley appeared at the sheds.

Nigel: Good morning, Scotsman.

Scott: Good morning, Sir.

Nigel: I know you've been feeling down about being replaced, but I bring good news. You are being seen as a role model by the A4s. In fact, I want you to take me to the Doncaster Works. There's an engine I want you to meet.

Scott sighs. He knows he shouldn't be so jealous, but he thought he would have his record at least a little longer.

Scott: Yes sir.

The Flying Scotsman takes Sir Nigel Gresley to the Doncaster Works. An engine freshly painted painted garter blue sits on the rails faceless.

Nigel: Now in just a minute, my latest modification of the A4 will wake up. I believe if this works, this engine will once again be a credit to the railway. In fact, as you have been the only engine in recent British history to do so, I want you to mentor this engine. Streamlining by design will make an engine fast, but it takes great skill to manage such high speeds.

Scott: Oh. Well it's an honor, sir.

Scott means what he says, but it's still bittersweet. To him it hurts to have to be responsible for training his own replacement. Being demoted from the Flying Scotsman services was quite a blow.

?: Hello?

Nigel: Ah yes. Welcome to the world young engine. I am your designer, Sir Nigel Gresley. Due to my fondness of birds, I decided to name you Mallard.

Mallard: Mallard, sir?

Nigel: Indeed. The Mallard is one of the most famous birds in the world. Due to the modification I added starting with your design, I highly believe you will become one of the most famous engines.

Mallard: My goodness. Thank you sir!

Sir Nigel Gresley chuckles. He walks over to the Flying Scotsman.

Nigel: This is one of my most famous engines, the Flying Scotsman, known for being the first official engine to reach 100 mph. He will act as your mentor regarding how to handle high speeds. We value fast, safe, and reliable service on this railway. Is that clear?

Mallard: Oh yes sir! Thank you for giving me a mentor.

Nigel: Well I'll just leave you two alone then. There's a lot of work to be done.

Scott sighs. It's not at all Mallard's fault that he feels this way. Given the circumstances, the least he can do is make Mallard as reliable as himself.

Time Skip

Mallard: Scotsman, why am I being asked to pull a train like this just to test my brake?

Scott: This is meant to simulate pulling a real train. The men added a dynamometer car to measure your speed and other elements of your performance.

Mallard: So it was just like my tests before I pulled my first passenger train.

Scott: Indeed. Only this time, the hope is that you will be fit to break the speed record. Should the bearing on your middle cylinder overheat even with the modifications, it would mean more work is to be done. We don't want you hurting yourself just to break a speed record.

Mallard contemplates this. He doesn't want to let anyone down. Especially if it's because of something he can't control.

Mallard: I understand.

Jospeh: Alright, Mallard. It's time to start our journey.

Mallard: Very well then, driver.

Mallard rolls out into the distance. Something about the day makes Scott only dread his worse fear is about to become a reality.

Time Skip

Crowd: He's done! Mallard broke the speed record!

Scott solemnly closed his eyes. Even though he isn't old by any means, this news made him feel as if he's aged.

Gordon: Why the long face, brother?

Scott: I feel as if my time to shine's ended before it truly ever began.

Gordon: Oh don't tell me that you're jealous of Mallard.

Scott looks at Gordon. He shakes his head knowing jealous isn't at all the correct term.

Scott: This is not at all Mallard's fault. He's simply doing what he's told like any young engine would. It isn't as if I didn't know my speed record would be broken one day.

Gordon: So why are you upset?

Scott: I wish I was able to have that to my name a while longer. To be allowed the chance to live out my prime as the best of the best. I would be willing to accept being replaced should it be well over 50 years of service and I'm no longer reliable. But to be replaced this soon.... I just didn't expect it.

Gordon: At the end of the day this is a business. What's best for the business is to ensure our passengers have fast, safe, and reliable rides. By mentoring Mallard, you are ensuring that guarantee. That is being a really useful engine. Like I said before, get some perspective Scott.

Scott shuts his eyes sighing again. If only there was a way to explain that Gordon is right but he should still be allowed to his feelings.

Scott: I only hope that Mallard doesn't meet the same fate as me. Falling from grace for things that is not at all your fault is something I wouldn't wish on anyone. No one should ever have to worry about facing the cutter's torch.

Gordon: Indeed, Scott. Indeed.

AN: Thank you anon for requesting this. I didn't realize that the real life A4s did in fact replace the Flying Scotsman until I started learning about the history a little bit more.

Tagging: @nelllia, @gordon208, @jayde-jots, @mintydeluxes-blog, and @engineer-gunzelpunk.

[grimmwolfcrafts]

Good morning! Feels weird to be posting this early. Guess I was more tired than I thought.

Smells like roach traps but it dries hard and doesn't chip off. It's easy to shave and sand so I think I'll be using similar for the time being.

The cylinder fits good enough but I'm gonna fill in some of the gaps at the top and bottom of the housing. Also I noticed that when I glued the two halves of the gun back together, it's kinda crooked. I'll try to save it. Also I started shaping the groves on the handle. It feels pretty good but can be improved

Lastly I started on those... Decorative lines? Stability reinforcement struts? The things on the bottom of the barrels. I freehanded the lines just to see what I was working with.

Also just in case you were wondering. I'm gonna do a pass over at the end to smooth out the cracks and chips and such. It's the most tedious part and I wanna have everything done and finished before I start to clean things up as I know it will take forever.

Thanks for reading, hope you have a wonderful day today. Be safe and see you later!

[dzthenerd490]

File: Pikmin - Water Wraith

SCP#: AJT

Code Name: Second Piece of the [data expunged]

Object Class: Neutralized

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-AJT remains where contained at Site-AA within one of the Keter Storage Units in the lower levels. Only Site Director James, Administrative Staff, and AFA-3 units to the design of Site Director James command are allowed in this level.

The remains of SCP-AJT are stored in a frequency isolation box that is placed inside a safe with a Cavafy Reality Concealment Engine to prevent anyone who is not within the Foundation from comprehending its existence. Only Site Director James and anyone she has approved is capable of comprehending its existence with a specialized drug that only lasts for 5 hours. Anyone not on her personal list that has this drug in their system is to be executed, there will be no exceptions.

Description: SCP-AJT at the time of activation was a strange blob-like monster that took on the form of a short and bald humanoid. However, it originally did not stand like a humanoid but instead placed its arms and legs at the ends of two cylinder-like stones. It seemingly uses these stones specifically to crush tiny creatures. What makes SCP-AJT even more anomalous is that despite being physical, it seems to be connected to another reality. Anyone in our reality can see, hear, and interact with it but none of our scanning technology is able to detect its existence. Not even a Hume level scanner can detect its presence. How this is possible is not well understood. 

Though it is believed to be related to its connection to the [Data Expunged by Order of the O5 Council], which is an Entity of Interest recently labeled as a Level 5 Threat. SCP-AJT was confirmed to be related to this entity when it was discovered to have great hostility to SCP-AEK. A notable trait to all entities related to the [Data Expunged by Order of the O5 Council] is their small size and great hostility towards SPC-AEK. 

SCP-AEK was discovered in 2004 after Site Director James took the SCP-AEK instances out for training. She took them to an area where there was an abundance of SCP-AEW-Alpha and Omega instances reported. She went there with a personal MTF security guard that seemed unnecessary but was insisted on by the O5 Council. Her SCP-AEK instances successfully managed to kill all the SCP-AEK instances however suddenly from the water SCP-AJT appeared and nearly wiped out the SCP-AEK instances due to no one paying attention and their scanners not going off. Shockingly all Site Director James had to do was stomp a lot and SCP-AJT was quickly weakened long enough for her security to take the cylinder stones SCP-AJT rolled on. Afterwards her SCP-AEK instances were able to easily kill what remained.

“Okay I know that was anticlimactic but let me remind you we have evidence that the [Data Expunged by Order of the O5 Council] exists and destroyed the world at least once. It started off weak but because everyone ignored it, it became something too big to handle. So I don’t care what anyone says, I’m not underestimating this thing or any of the anomalies it creates and if you guys do then your all, fucking idiots! Sorry, got a little too into it there, but seriously, I don’t know what the [Data Expunged by Order of the O5 Council] is yet, but I WILL destroy it even if it turns out to be just an angry screaming water drop.” -Site Director James.

.

SCP: Horror Movie Files Hub

[randomquadballpun]

DAY 39 (attempt no 7)

The first thing John spotted when Rosie and him entered the flat, was a strange blue metal cylinder on the couch table. It was loosely covered with a white lid but that did not stop some kind of white vapour to escape from it. Next to him, Rosie squealed in delight.

"Oh, Sherlock! Does that mean we can freeze vegetables and smash them with the hammer again?"

John ambled over to the table cautiously and warily lifted the lid. A wave of cold air wafted into his face. The inside of the container was silvery reflective and filled with a clear, bubbling liquid, a couple of small plastic tubes swimming within it. Spidery crystals of frost were covering the rim of the cylinder. "Smashing vegetables ... again?", he echoed quizzically.

"Liquid nitrogen", Sherlock piped up from the direction of the kitchen. He must have arrived only moments before them since he was still wearing his coat and scarf. "Can teach a lot about chemistry and physics." He gave Rosie a wink before he returned to browsing through the kitchen cupboards. "And on top of that, it is a lot of fun to handle."

John opened one of the living room windows a sliver, just to be safe, before picking up Rosie schoolbag from where she had dropped it onto the carpet in her haste. "Any specific reason you brought liquid nitrogen to the flat?"

Sherlock fished a small metal strainer from one of the kitchen drawers, picked up a pair of heavy gloves and returned to the living room with purpose. He used the strainer to fish two of the tubes out of the steaming liquid, presented them proudly and then dropped them back into the container. "I need the nitrogen to keep my bacteria frozen. Despite some initial resistance I managed to acquire a few vials of an alternative bacteria strain from an acquaintance of mine that owed me a couple of favours."

John stared down at the liquid nitrogen with a bit of trepidation now. "That sounds ominous, what exactly did you do?"

The other man just shrugged off-handedly. "It's alright. Zachary will get over it eventually."

"That did not make it sound any less ominous."

"Could we freeze and smash broccoli?"

John looked over just in time to watch as his daughter plundered the vegetable drawer of their fridge. "I was meaning to use that for dinner, you know?"

"All of it?", asked Sherlock, immediately adopting his most beseeching puppy dog expression. Behind them, Rosies face twisted in disgust at the mere thought of broccoli for dinner. John let out a defeated sigh.

"Could you leave at least half of it for cooking?" He pleaded.

Sherlock nodded eagerly while he shrugged out of his coat and carried the nitrogen over to the kitchen. John was pretty certain that he would be left with maybe a quarter of the vegetable, if not even less.

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

Troubleshooting, part 19/?

-> Another late upload because of life. Don't play with liquid nitrogen without safety precautions kids, it is really, really cold.

-> The next chapter can be found here!

-> Until then you can start reading this series at DAY 0 (tumblr/ao3) or read the previous snippet here.

[felixcloud6288]

Fullmetal Alchemist Chapter 47

I'm sure we've all had that moment where you push a button or twist a knob and something completely unrelated happens at the same time, and you're just going "Did I do that?"

A little piece of debris fell on the man's head after that explosion.

After Lin lands, he has to take a second to recover from the shock of his landing. Since we last saw him, he's taken a new injury to his leg, but carrying Lan Fan essentially doubled his weight when he landed.

With no context, this panel looks like the guy is staring at the bear-shaped cloud of smoke.

Scar sees Winry holding a gun toward him because he killed her parents. He acknowledges she is fully justified in shooting him. And then he doubles down saying the Amestrians fired the first shot in the war.

He feels the point of the cycle of vengeance his master told him when he realizes he's standing on the opposite end of an old memory. Scar's brother once stood in the way to protect him from Kimblee. And for a moment, Scar stands over Ed and Winry in the way Kimblee stood over him.

Winry was staring at Ed's back when he jumped in front of her.

I don't know what stupid Alchemy thing Ed could have done here, but he could have done a stupid Alchemy thing here.

Consider if Scar hadn't hesitated to kill Ed at that moment. The man who murdered Winry's parents would have also killed her childhood friend. And the last thing she'd have seen before his death would be his back.

Winry is terrified right now. Her thoughts have been steadily focusing around realizing the danger Ed and Al are putting themselves through. She ran here while thinking only of catching up to Ed and Al, and the thought of them dying brought back all her memories of her parents. Then she sees what is happening, and before she can begin to process anything, Ed yells at Scar for murdering the Rockbells after they saved his life.

All the exhaustion and stress ensnared her at once and all she can think is Scar is the man who took her family from her and he is trying to do it again. Ed managed to remind her of what she's done and who she is and brought Winry back to herself.

I winced a bit when that gun hit the ground. Who's to say it might not have accidentally discharged on impact.

Everything else he did shows he understands how to safely disarm someone with a gun and how to properly handle one. When he got Winry to let go, he placed his thumb over where the hammer would hit the cylinder and then prioritized getting Winry's fingers off the trigger. Then he handed the gun to an MP handle-first.

Roy is listening in on all the reports about Scar (and the explosion Lin caused) and decides it's time to go through the recovery phase of Heist 3. Hawkeye hasn't forgotten how he got involved in the Super Heist and insists Roy not jump in and risk being connected to Heist 3.

One of the notes attached to Fuery's cabinet is the Konami code.

Scar's debate with Al shows his black and white approach to Alchemy. Alphonse, like Nina, no longer has a human body. But to call them both cursed is wrong and disregards the circumstances surrounding them. Nina might have been a victim of Alchemy, but Alphonse was saved by it. He's not forced to live in an empty suit of armor because of Alchemy; he is able to exist in the world thanks to Alchemy. Until a few days ago, Alphonse might have agreed with Scar about his situation.

I can think of two reasons Wrath would send Gluttony after Scar instead of doing it himself: Lan Fan is still alive and could warn Lin of Gluttony's presence, and Wrath was certain by where the sound of their fight was coming from that Scar was now in a place with few witnesses.

One of Lin's items flew out of his bag when he made his dynamic entry.

And I want to end on one final detail that I was considering adding to chapter 33, but decided to save for this. Lan Fan is left-handed. Her fighting style is ambidextrous in general, but she shows a clear preference for striking and throwing with her left hand. Meanwhile, she wields a kunai in her right hand which tends to be for parrying and utility purposes rather than offense. In hand-to-hand combat, she prefers to open with either a strike from her left hand or a kick with her left foot. She also grabbed Ed's arm with her left hand in chapter 33.

So she lost her dominant hand.

And I know we saw Scar's brother's tattoos here. I'm going to wait for a more relevant chapter to talk about them.

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[beardedmrbean]

The Collin County Sheriff’s Office says an improvised explosive device was found in a cemetery Thursday.

According to a post on Facebook by the sheriff's office, deputies were called about a possible pipe bomb found at Scott Cemetery off County Road 161/Ridge Road, north of Wilmeth Road in McKinney. The sheriff's office told NBC 5 the caller said he spotted the device at the cemetery last week and reported it Thursday morning.

Larry Hankey says he first spotted the object during a visit Saturday to the cemetery where his late parents and wife are buried.

"I saw something on the ground so I kind of kicked it with my foot. I didn't kick it hard. I just nudged it with my foot," Hankey told NBC 5. "Then I said, 'I ain't gonna pick it up', so I just left it there."

He left the cemetery Saturday then says he decided to report the object, described as a cylinder wrapped in black tape, after reading an FBI alert encouraging the public to report anything suspicious over the holidays.

"I should've called it in earlier," said Hankey.

Deputies arrived around at the cemetery at about 9:30 a.m. Thursday and secured the area.

The sheriff's department said the Plano Police Department's bomb squad was called in to assist and that they determined that, "the object was, in fact, an improvised explosive device."

The Plano bomb squad safely disposed of the device.

Neighbors say they felt a concussion inside their homes when it happened.

"It doesn't make any sense. Why would there be a pipe bomb in a cemetery in a great neighborhood," said Jim Thomas who lives in a nearby neighborhood.

"Our sincere appreciation to the Plano Texas Police Department Bomb Squad for their rapid and effective response," the sheriff's office said in a statement.

When NBC 5 crews arrived, investigators were searching an area underneath a tree along the cemetery's west fence. Investigators, including ATF agents, were seen handling what looked like nails.

NBC 5 reached out to the sheriff's office for more information and they said at this point in the investigation they have nothing more to share. No further information has been released about the device or who may have built it or left it in the cemetery.

"I don't know why it would be in a cemetery. That's mighty odd," said Hankey.

The sheriff's office said there is no indication of any further danger to the public.

The Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives has been called to assist with the investigation.

Scott Cemetery is a Texas Historical Site which dates back to the 1850's.