#electric bike company jobs

[uniquejobs]

HERO BIKE Company Jobs | Fresher Candidates apply directly | All over India

Introduction HERO BIKE Company Jobs: HERO BIKE has Published a notification for the vacancy of Design Engineer The educational qualification required to apply for this HERO BIKE is ITI, Diploma & B.E.Engineers Interested and eligible candidates can apply for HERO BIKE. There is enough time to apply for any job. Read HERO BIKE Company date, last date to use, and full details of vacancies…

[soulmatesinc-if]

A light-hearted interactive fiction game about soulmates, chances and choices, written in ChoiceScript.

|| PLAY HERE || [119k]

|| extra content ||

Here at Soulmates Inc we specialize in chance meetings!

Love happens.

It takes by the storm. It is lucky, it is cruel, it makes no sense, it elevates. It is beautiful, it rears its ugly head, then it is beautiful once again. Now that, humans can manage on their own.

Soulmate-grade connection is an entirely different brand. Enter you. That's your brand. It requires dedicated labor. Whimsical meetings. Nuance.

As a soul-link, you arrange for those destined matches to happen using the powers of glamor at your disposal. An ancient practice, really, though, as with everything, it has evolved and happily marched with the times. You work out of an office, have a phone plan, a lease, and a favorite restaurant. Your boss is not a half-naked man with a bow and arrows but a fashionably dressed man who goes to a gym and drives an electrical Mustang.

It is nice. Modern.

Just one rule. The only rule, in fact. A scripture, if you will: never interact with a soul directly.

Which is precisely why your most recent half-match staring at your confused face is so damn bad. Worse yet, they can see right through your glamor for some reason.

Now what?..

love is all around you but it does not have to be for you: play as aro, ace, bi, gay or straight. Your romantic prospects are three, but each has a story to tell

explore who you are: a firm and enthusiastic believer, a burned-out office worker, or a skeptical soul-link questioning their purpose

use and evolve your soul-link powers: Empathy and Shroud

keep up with your job duties and bring people together while trying to protect your employer from a greater looming threat

someone is throwing around heavy words like 'destiny', but dealing with existential questions is entirely optional!

Amber | Andrew Wyatt Once a high-performer soul-link, they flew too close to the sun and snooped around where one does not snoop around. Having fallen from grace at a company that believes in chances, Wyatt is back on probation, though under your supervision. The light is snuffed out of their eyes, and instead of being a firm believer, Wyatt now drips disillusioned pearls of what they think is wisdom.

A languid redhead who wears sunglasses more often than not.

Samuel | Samantha C. Powell Sam has a steady job, does weekly family visits and always parks the bike properly. How do you learn that? Sam is also your sparkling new charge, a common everyperson, a salt of the earth—nope, not that simple at all! You cannot seem to find their soulmate (never happens) and they can see through your glamor (never happens either). To be fair, Sam is freaked out by it, too.

Your sporty charge in a wrinkle-free T-shirt with a mess of locs held back by a band.

Martin | Mia Romero A hectic ball of energy that is a human person, they are passionate about their distaste for your employer's business and are happy to go in length about it. Romero is messy, yet strangely put together in their belief: a hurricane that may sweep you off your feet if you are not careful enough. They know things, things no human should. You should probably report that to your boss...

A city dweller with hair tied sloppily in a short low ponytail, perfectly matched with dramatic eyebags.

[whatsnewalycat]

Designated Person | Chapter 3

Pairing: Francisco "Catfish" Morales x F!Reader

Chapter 3: Puzzle Pieces

Series Summary: When posting bail for Frankie Morales, your former employer and former lover, you unwittingly designate yourself as his third party custodian during his pre-trial release. Your often tumultuous relationship with him is given a new set of rules and put to the test. Can the two of you co-exist peacefully, or will you crash and burn?

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Word Count: 8.2k+

Content / Warnings: Reader POV, nannying, infant / toddler, infidelity, past romantic & sexual relationship, flashbacks, awkward conversations, first date, first kiss, platonic (???) cuddling, confrontation, argument

Notes: Yeeehaw hi, friends. I don't know that I've mentioned this previously, but "reader" is like mid-to-late 20's for the purposes of this story, so there's a bit of an age gap there. And there was a power imbalance with their relationship to begin with and stuff so I'm just putting that out there. This chapter gives big "Bike Scene" by Taking Back Sunday vibes if you're into that lol. That's all I have for now! Thank you for reading.

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Finally, it’s quiet. 

You’re not sure if it’s a full moon or what the fuck is going on, but today has been particularly hellish in the Howard household. 

The youngest two children, Ashton and Jaxson, are four and three, respectively. Which can be great when they play together, or when you find activities for the three of you to do while the oldest is at school. But then there are days like this, when neither of them want to do the same thing and both of them want your undivided attention. You can barely finish appeasing one before the other starts crying. 

To add to the chaos, when the eldest Howard child, Emmaleigh, came home from school, she promptly stomped up the stairs to her bedroom, then slammed and locked the door. As Jaxson tugged on your shirt and screeched for you to continue reading names of different species of whales pictured in his animal encyclopedia, you tried to coax her out of the room to tell you what was wrong, but she wouldn’t budge. 

On days like this, by the time Marla gets home, you’re essentially a bundle of nerves with knotted muscles. 

You take another peek into the family room, where Ashton and Jaxson are settled into the cushy microfiber sectional watching Finding Nemo. They both seem content and neither of them notice your presence, so you tiptoe up the stairs to the main level, into the kitchen. 

With a heavy sigh, peel the electric blue post-it note off the dull, cream colored vinyl countertop. The message, written in Marla’s neat, rounded hand, reads: OK to DoorDash dinner. 

“Thank fucking god,” you mutter under your breath, then pad over the dark hardwood floor to a laptop sitting open on the dining room table. As you place an order for food from a local burger joint, you mentally give thanks to Marla again. Not only will dinner from Emmaleigh’s favorite restaurant lift her spirits, but it takes a load off your mind. 

You’ve nannied for about a half a dozen families, and Marla is the most easygoing mom you’ve dealt with by far. Generally speaking, you’ve found your families with two or more children are less rigid than families with one child. You think that Marla is especially lax because she’s a single mother and, as the founder and CEO of an adult toy company, a bona fide hashtag girl boss. She knows that her children can be a handful and isn’t immune to giving in to their demands for junk food and screen time. 

Your last job, with the Morales’s, was much more structured. Angie had very specific instructions, typed up the night before and automatically emailed to you at 6am each morning. Of course, you could have pinpointed her as type A during your interview, when she pulled your resume out of a color-coded accordion file of potential candidates, followed by a pre-printed list of questions she used to jot down your responses. 

Her shiny red fingernails were long and pointed to sharp tips that clacked against the tabletop of a local coffee shop. Round, brown eyes with little flecks of gold looked up from her questionnaire to you as the interview came to a close. 

“The hours are 7 AM to 6 PM, Monday through Friday. My husband gets home at 4, but I would need you to stick around and make dinner while he helps with Sarah.”

“Oh, ok,” you nodded, frowning in confusion at the overlap. 

She leaned forward slightly, as if letting you in on a secret, and explained, “He doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing. I love the man but he’s useless in the kitchen.” 

You chuckled at this, grinning, “I get that a lot, actually. I just don’t usually get an extra set of hands to help me with the kids.” 

“He’ll stay out of your way, don’t worry,” she winked, then took another cursory glance at the questionnaire before telling you, “Well, you’re definitely the most qualified person I’ve interviewed. I think you’d be a great fit for us. What do you think?“ 

“Is- is that a job offer?” you stammered. After your last family’s mom was laid off a month prior, you were abruptly out of work. This was the break you desperately needed. 

Her cherry red lips curved into a disarming smile and she nodded, “But, if you need time to think about it-”

“No,” you interjected, almost a little too forcefully, then softened and added, “I’d love to.” 

Before noon on your first day working for the Morales’s, you had grown attached to Sarah. The six-month old baby had a chocolate soft serve swirl of hair right at the top of her head like a crown, and it wiggled like jell-o every time her big bobble head would sway and jostle. Her deep brown eyes were round and expressive. Whenever you had one-sided conversations with her, she'd coo and babble in response, raising or furrowing her eyebrows, like she was contributing even though she couldn’t understand a lick of what you said. 

After laying her down for a nap, as you tiptoed down the hallway away from her bedroom, a picture frame hanging on the wall caught your eye. You stopped to examine the photo of Mr. and Mrs. Morales from their wedding day.

Angelica’s pearly, knee-length dress hugged her hourglass shape. A white tulle shawl hung over her shoulders and draped down her arms, rhinestones scattered across the fabric. Her jet black hair was loosely pinned back, save for a few strands of long, wavy bangs left to frame her heart-shaped face. Her makeup was done up as fiercely as it was that morning and during your interview. Razor-point black winged eyeliner painted on behind her long, black lashes. Perfectly arched eyebrows. Her alluring lips were shiny and red, just like her fingernails.

Who you assumed to be Mr. Morales wore a fitted black suit, but no tie. He had bronzed skin and broad shoulders that pulled his posture straight. The man’s brown hair showed the beginnings of curls, his sparse facial hair trimmed close to the skin, save for a pronounced mustache. He had a strong nose and chin. His dark brown eyes and dimpled smile made your stomach flutter. 

The happy couple stood next to each other on the steps of what looked like either a church or a courthouse. Mr. Morales had one arm tucked behind his bride, whose hands were clasped around a small bouquet of white lilies. Both leaned their heads towards the other while they faced the camera and flashed the kind of practiced smile reserved for professional photographers. 

Blood rose to your cheeks when you realized you were staring at the groom and attraction was pooling between your thighs. You glanced around self-consciously, then down at the floor as you made your way to the living room. 

For the remainder of the afternoon, time worked like a garrote, twisting around your neck, tighter with each minute that drew you closer to 4:00. 

When he came home, you were participating in tummy time with Sarah. She babbled and blew spit bubbles at you, careening her wobbly baby head around to focus on your smiling face. The heavy door to the garage opened and slammed shut. Your heart skipped a beat when he ascended the stairs and looked around, doling out a polite smile and wave to you. 

“Hi there,” you greeted, then asked Sarah in baby talk, “Is that your daddy? Do you wanna go see him?” 

She cooed. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you chuckled, then rolled to your knees and propped her on your hip as you stood. 

“How was she?” he asked, tilting his head with a smile to Sarah. The dulcet baritone of his voice reverberated through your chest. You swallowed hard as you realized that he’s so much more handsome in person. 

“She was great! Woke up from a nap about an hour ago, then she ate 8 oz from her bottle. Did a little tummy time, as, um, as you can see,” you handed her off to him. As you did this, his hand slid over yours accidentally. It was rough and warm and made your stomach flip. Your heart was thudding like you had just run a marathon. 

He nodded at Sarah, copying her wide dimpled smile, then met your eyes, “Ang said you might need my help while you cook?” 

When he made eye contact with you, all the air left your lungs and your brain short-circuited. He blinked in anticipation of your response, causing you to snap out of your daze, stuttering, “Y-yeah, sorry, um- yeah,” you winced in embarrassment, “She wanted me to make dinner when you got home, said you could help with Sarah while I do that.”

When you looked back up again he was smirking at you. That did not help the state of your composure. Your face was like a heat lamp and you averted your gaze, “I can get started on that now.” 

While retreating into the kitchen, you pulled out your phone and found the recipe Mrs. Morales sent to you. He followed you into the kitchen, sans baby, heavy work boots clunking against the fake honey oak linoleum flooring. You tried to act as normal as possible when you turned to the fridge and he was already there, bending over to get a beer out of the crisper and asking, “You want one?” 

As desperately as you wanted to say yes, abso-fucking-lutey yes, it was your first day with this family, so you declined. 

“Do you drink?” he questioned further, still hanging over the open drawer in the fridge when he peered up at you. 

You nodded, “Yeah, but…” 

He fished out a second beer, then pushed the crisper closed with his foot and stepped away from the fridge, chuckling, “I think you need it.”

Teeth clenching your tongue flat, you fought the urge to tell him to shut up. You approached the open fridge and retrieved the necessary ingredients before nudging it closed with your hip, “I don’t know. I don’t want your wife to get mad at me. Um, drinking on the job and all.” 

While you told him this, he twisted the cap off of one bottle and put it on the counter next to him, then the second, which he placed on the stovetop for you. As he stepped back and leaned against the counter to face you again, he said, “I won’t tell on you, don’t worry.” 

Your heart was in your throat attempting to strangle you. You turned around and flashed a joking eye roll at him as you accepted the bottle, “Sure.”

He winked, grabbing his beer as he pushed off the counter towards the living room, calling back, “Let me know if you need anything.” 

“Um, yeah, same,” you laughed nervously. 

Frankie slams the passenger side car door shut and you put the car into drive, “How’d the meeting go?” 

His seatbelt locks in place with a click. He stretches out in the seat that’s now constantly set to his preference: slid as far back as it can go, reclined to a wide, obtuse angle. His knees settle far apart and he looks out the window, pressing his fingers to his lips as he shakes his head. 

Your nostrils flare at this annoying lack of response, but you try again, “I already ate, do you need me to stop anywhere for you?” 

He doesn’t move when he mumbles, “I’m fine, thanks.” 

You roll your eyes and turn the radio up in an attempt to dampen your irritation with his brooding. 

After arriving at home, both of you trudge inside to your separate bedrooms. You strip off your day clothes and replace them with a baggy, tie-dyed t-shirt and a pair of black cotton shorts. Your skin still feels too tight, muscles too tense for comfort. 

Fuck, you want a beer. Or a lay. Or both. Some kind of release. 

Your phone buzzes from your nightstand, so you grab it and find a new message notification from Tinder. 

> RORY:  > You free tomorrow night? 

With a grimace, you toss your phone onto your bed, then exit your bedroom to find Frankie rummaging through the fridge for something to eat. He has also made a wardrobe change into lounge wear, retiring his hat for the evening, sporting a pair of gray sweatpants and an old, weathered Metallica t-shirt. 

“Did you change out of your crabby pants, too, or are those on under your sweats?” you tease. 

He scoffs and glances over at you, “I’m not crabby.” 

“Sure you’re not,” you tiptoe past him into the living room, where you collapse onto the couch and turn the TV on. 

Flipping through Netflix for a while gives you little inspiration. The chair in the dining room groans as Frankie sits down to eat whatever he was able to find. You holler to him, “Whadda you wanna do tonight?” 

“Besides get hammered?” his response from the dining room table is muffled by the food in his mouth. 

“Obviously,” you snort.

“Mmm,” he hums, pauses for a beat, then sighs, “Fuck, I don’t know.” 

You scrunch your nose up and try to brainstorm ideas. Immediately your mind plummets into the gutter, reminding you how fucking hard he made you cum on Monday. The memory electrifies your skin and sends your heart racing in your chest.

It was so fucking reckless. 

Reckless and perverse and so fucking hot you wanted to tear your own skin off afterwards. 

Whatever the opposite of that is. 

“Do you wanna do a puzzle?” you call back to him. 

At first he snickers, “A puzzle?” But then another moment passes and he asks, “What kind of puzzle?” 

“I have a few. Let’s see,” you squint up at the shelf on your wall that’s lined with boxes of board games and puzzles, “Freddie Mercury, pandas, space, or gnomes.” 

You hear him chewing as he soaks in these options, then he says, “Freddie Mercury.” 

While he finishes eating, you clear off your coffee table and pull the box down from the shelf. 

“A thousand pieces? Goddamn,” he sits down on the floor across the table from you, dusting his hands off before sifting through the box of puzzle pieces. 

“We don’t have to finish it tonight,” you tell him as you scoop some into your hand and pick through them, “Try to find the edge pieces.” 

The two of you isolate all the jigsawed pieces with at least one flat side and spread them, shiny, printed side up across the table. As you click a few together, Frankie’s cell phone rings. 

When he pulls his phone out of his pocket, your eyes flick to the screen and see Angie’s contact photo. It’s a selfie they took together while on vacation in Australia, their smiling faces shiny with sweat and rosy from booze. Your stomach knots. 

“Hey,” Frankie answers. 

His dark eyes scan the room and meet yours. You immediately drop your gaze to the puzzle pieces and hum to yourself as you blatantly eavesdrop. 

“Yeah, does that still work for you?” 

There’s an indistinguishable soprano response from his wife. 

“Let me check,” he says to Angie, then holds the phone to his shoulder and mumbles to you, “Hey do you think you could give me a ride tomorrow morning at 10?” 

You nod without looking up at him. 

“Yeah that works,” he tells her, shortly followed by, “Ok. Yep. Love you, bye.” 

A stake plunges through your heart. 

He puts the phone back in his pocket and resumes his thorough examination of the puzzle pieces, eventually mumbling, “Thank you, by the way. For giving me a ride.” 

“Sure,” you glance up and flash him a quick smile. When you turn your attention back to the puzzle, you ask, “Are you excited to see Sarah?” 

“Yeah,” his voice is lifted and warm, and you can tell he’s smiling, “Fuck, I miss her so much.”

What you want to say is I do too, because it’s the truth. That attachment you had to her never really went away. But it seems pointless. 

“Are you guys doing anything or just sticking around the house?” you ask. 

“We’re gonna go to the zoo, then Ang is gonna throw something together for dinner,” he clicks two puzzle pieces together and hums thoughtfully to himself. 

“Is she still super into penguins?” 

He chuckles, “Yeah. Last time me and Ang took her, she started screaming every time we tried to leave the exhibit.” 

You laugh and shake your head, “Every goddamn time. I always had to bribe her with ice cream.”

“She’s so stubborn,” he grins and sits up on his knees to lean over the puzzle and get a closer look, “Just like her mom.” 

A weight pulls at your stomach. You feel obligated to ask, so you do, “How are things with you and her mom?” 

He’s quiet as he contemplates this, staring at the shiny pieces, thrumming his fingers against the table. With a sigh, he answers, “I don’t know.” 

You try to keep your breaths metered, as to not give away the thudding in your chest. Adrenaline-spiked blood whooshes in your ears. 

Frankie continues, “Things were better when I got arrested, but, you know…” 

Your eyebrow raises on its own accord, but you don’t comment. If things were better, why was he doing blow and driving drunk? Nope, none of your fucking business. 

Not my chair, not my problem. 

“I’m kind of nervous about it, actually,” he admits quietly, “Spending time with her and all that. I really want things to work.”

“Why?” your mouth asks before your brain can tell you to shut the fuck up. 

“She’s my wife. And- and the mother of my child,” he scoffs and shakes his head, “I love her.” 

The sharpness in his tone drives the stake in your heart down further. Your eyes flick to his and see that he’s studying your face, stare hardened to steel. Those three words eat away at you. What he said was: I love her. But you know what he wanted to say was: I love her. 

You nod in response, dropping your gaze back to the puzzle. Your body moves autonomously, clicking a few puzzle pieces together, scanning for matching patterns, while your mind plays it over and over. 

I love her. 

I love her. 

I love her. 

Static buzzes in your chest. Your throat feels tight, so you clear it, then tell him, “I don’t know if I’ll be able to pick you up afterwards.” 

“Why not?”

“I have a date,” you inform him, glancing up to gauge his reaction. 

“Oh,” he murmurs, then frowns, “That shouldn’t be a problem.” 

Silence settles over the two of you. It’s just the scrape and click of puzzle pieces across the tabletop and hums of contemplation. You notice the way he seems to get buried in his thoughts, pressing his fingers to his lips, gnashing his jaw back and forth. A sick satisfaction roils inside you. 

You decide to call it a night when the edge of the puzzle is put together. When you sink into your bed, you open Tinder and send a response to Rory. 

< ME: < Definitely. What’re you thinking? 

The message is opened immediately, and he responds. 

> RORY:  > Wanna get dinner? 

< ME: < Yes please :)

> RORY:  > Pick you up at 6? 

< ME: < It's a date

The BBQ place Rory takes you to is busy and loud, its high ceilings making plenty of space for every noise to ricochet off the wood paneled walls down into your eardrums. You’re seated across from him, resting your chin in your palms, elbows pressing into the wobbly table top as you listen to him talk about his job as a personal trainer. When you shift in your seat, your legs stick to the black vinyl upholstery, and you wince at the sensation.

Your eyes trail his rigid biceps that pull his t-shirt sleeves taught. A faded black tribal tattoo peaks out from beneath the white fabric. From the shirtless pictures on his Tinder, you happen to know he has a whole collection of douchey tattoos lining his sun-tanned, muscular body, but you might be willing to overlook that. 

You mark his tattoos down in the “things you don’t like” column in your brain. 

Rory is conventionally attractive in a very masculine way, his face all hard angles with a dimpled, squared off jaw. Straight, white teeth are almost always visible behind the peak of his thin, bow-shaped lips.

He seems like the kind of person that has a standing appointment with a hairdresser that knows exactly how to trim his hair into a close, neat cut without him giving instructions. You’re willing to bet he takes a shower at exactly 6 AM every day, then applies just enough product to make his golden brown hair stand at attention. He probably food preps and has like six hard boiled eggs or something equally rich in protein for breakfast each morning. 

Every part of him seems disciplined and routine. Stable. You mark that down in the “things you like” column. 

When he asks you what you do for a living, you tell him, and he asks how you got into the nannying business. 

“Growing up, I took care of my younger siblings all the time. I’d babysit for the neighbors and stuff, too. It just naturally evolved after I graduated high school,” you tell him, meeting his stunning hazel eyes with an easy smile.

“Do you have a big family?” he crosses his arms on the table and leans in. The off-kilter base of the table responds, shifting towards him. 

You nod, “I have an older brother and three little sisters. My brother, Ben, is two years older than me. My sister, Marlene, is four years younger. Then there’s Leah, who was born two years later. And Rachel is the baby, who came a year after Leah.” 

“Five kids,” he marvels, “Wow. No wonder you had to help out so much.” 

You smile politely at this, although you know your role as their caregiver had more to do with your parents’ active social calendar than the sheer number of children. 

“Do you want kids?” Rory inquires, his brow furrowing in a way that tells you the answer is important to him. 

“Oh, definitely,” you respond, take a sip of your water, then continue, “I don’t know about five, that seems like overkill, but more than one for sure.” 

This seems to please him. His lips curl into a smile. 

“What about you? Do you have any siblings? Want any kids?” you stab the ice in your glass of water with the straw, then return your eyes to his. 

“Two brothers. I’m the middle child,” he rubs his hands together and smirks, “And, yes, kids are no doubt a priority for me.” 

You smile and nod in acknowledgment. Mark it down in the “things you like” column. 

His eyes linger on yours and you feel blood rush to your cheeks. The waitress appears with two trays of food, placing them on the table. As you eat, you find out that Rory was born and raised close to where you were, in another coastal town off the Gulf of Mexico. He was transferred to Kissimmee about two years ago as part of a job promotion. 

“What brought you here?” he questions, then picks up the ribs on his tray and tears a chunk of meat off the bone. 

You shake your head, “Moved here with my ex-boyfriend. He was from the area originally. I needed to get the fuck out of my hometown, so he suggested moving here.” 

You kick yourself for mentioning your self-exile from Ruskin, and hope to god he doesn’t ask why you needed to leave. First dates are no place to recount the ruthless campaign ran against you until you couldn’t take it anymore. 

“What happened with him?” 

A sigh of relief expands your lungs. You answer, “Fell in love with his high school sweetheart.” 

“Wow, that blows,” he frowns, “Been there. Cheated on. It feels terrible.” 

“That it does,” you mutter, pushing kernels of corn around the white plastic bowl on your tray, “He told me about it when it happened, at least. And they’re really happy together. Got married and had kids and all that.”

“No offense, but he’s still an idiot,” he declares with conviction, “I mean, who would do that to someone as gorgeous as you? Besides, cheaters are all scum.”

The compliment warms your insides. You smile demurely and bat your eyelashes at him outwardly, while inwardly you make a mental note to never mention your past with Frankie to him. 

After you finish eating, Rory pays the check and drives you back to your house. The living room is illuminated through the window facing the street. When he puts the car in park, he glances up at it and frowns, “Do you live with someone?” 

“Yeah,” you chuckle nervously, “I have a roommate. They must’ve come home while we were out.” 

“Can I walk you to your door?” His voice is low and sultry. 

You bite your bottom lip and nod. 

He tells you to stay put as he comes around the car to open your door for you. As you walk side-by-side up the cracked sidewalk that leads your house, his hand finds the small of your back. There’s a nervous energy pulsing through your veins, thickening with each step. 

When you reach the foot of your porch steps, he turns to you, meeting your gaze and holding it, “I had a really good time tonight.” 

You face him, and his hand slides to your waist. A tingle spreads across your chest and heats your cheeks, “So did I.” 

His eyes flick to your lips. He leans in. You mirror the movement, eyelids fluttering closed as his lips meet yours. He tastes like peppermint and smells like conifer trees. The kiss is mechanical and his hand is stiff at your waist. It doesn’t awaken anything hungry within you, but it’s nice. 

When you pull away, you look up at him through your eyelashes, “Goodnight, Rory.” 

“Goodnight,” he smiles wide, big white teeth taking up half his face. 

When you open the front door and step inside, Frankie is mid-movement, sitting down on the couch. 

“Hey,” you call as you lean against the closed door and pull off your wedge sandals. 

“Hi,” he responds, sitting up straight. 

It amazes you how much the one syllable says. The slightly panicked upward inflection, the tensing of his shoulders, how out-of-breath he seems. He rests his elbows on his knees and leans forward, hands clasped together, knuckles white.

You drop your purse on the ground, “You getting anywhere on the puzzle?” 

He hums and nods, “I’ve assembled quite a few mustaches.” 

You tiptoe across the carpet and kneel down opposite him, scanning the clumps of puzzle that he’s managed to complete. It entrances you immediately, your fingers and brain working in tandem, making the world fade into the background. Some time passes before you feel Frankie staring at you. You look up at him and meet his eyes, “What?” 

“Nothing,” he shakes his head and smirks. 

You blink at him and raise your eyebrows, “Bullshit.” 

His smirk breaks out into a smile that tugs at your heart, the way his eyes crinkle into crescents and his cheeks dimple. He drops his gaze to the table and taps his lips, then shrugs, “You just look really nice. That dress was a good choice.” 

“Thanks,” you mutter, returning your attention to the puzzle, ignoring the flutter in your chest. 

“How was your date?” he asks, trying to seem disinterested, even though his shoulders hunch up to his ears and his jaw clenches. 

“So good. I think for our next date, we’ll get married,” you tease, glancing up to flash him an amused smile. 

“Hilarious,” he rolls his eyes. His knee starts bouncing and he inquires, “Have you been seeing him for a while or is this a… recent development?” 

“It was literally our first date,” you raise an eyebrow at him, then shrug, “He was nice, though. We have a lot in common. I’ll probably see him again.” 

He shifts in his seat, but says nothing, so you don’t say anything, either. You find a few more puzzle pieces that correspond and click them together. 

“How was the zoo?” you inquire, looking up to search his face, noting his far-away eyes and pouting lips. 

“Good,” he answers with strained positivity, “We’re gonna do something next Saturday. Not sure what yet.” 

“That’s good,” you tell him. Your voice is dripping with an overly ripe kind of sweetness that seems disingenuous and repulsive. By the way he blinks up at you with a droopy, blank expression, you’re certain he senses it, too. Blood rises to your face and you bite down on your tongue, pulsing your teeth against the soft muscle, savoring the sharp pain the motion causes.

You take a deep breath in, exhaling through slack lips that make a buzzing pbpbpbp sound, then ask, “What do you wanna do for dinner tomorrow?” 

He frowns, “Whatever you want, I don’t care.” 

“Good talk,” you mutter under your breath, then rise to your feet, “Do you need to use the bathroom before I take a shower?” 

Frankie shakes his head without looking up from the puzzle. His fingers press against the pillowy flesh of his lips. You feel an urge to scream at him, to push his buttons somehow, anything just to get him to react, but you drop it. 

Once you’ve showered and changed into comfier clothing, you return to the living room and find Frankie laying on his side, curled up on the couch, a pillow wedged between his cheek and his hands. Jungle Boogie by Kool & The Gang is playing behind the opening credits of Pulp Fiction on the TV. You approach with caution, “Do you mind if I join you?” 

“Not at all,” he answers and goes to sit up. 

“You can stay there, it’s fine,” you tell him. He relaxes back into his previous position as you grab a blanket and pillow from a wicker basket next to the TV, “Want a blankie?” 

“Fuck yeah.” 

His enthusiastic response brings a smile to your face. You grab another blanket and drape it over his body before settling into the opposite end of the couch and stretching out. He seems stiff when you pile your legs on his over the middle cushion, so you pull your knees up a little further, closer to your body. 

“I wanna ask you a question but I want you to know it’s ok to say no,” he says in a somber voice. Your heart immediately starts sprinting. 

“What?” you furrow your brow and look over to meet his eyes, but he’s staring at the TV with a blank expression. 

“Will you cuddle with me?”

Your stomach flips upside down. You search his face in question, unsure what to say. No, probably. The two of you literally just had a conversation about keeping your relationship platonic less than a week ago. What the fuck? 

He finally glances at you and sees the confusion. His forehead creases and his foot starts bouncing under your calf. 

He elaborates, “I’m freaking out right now and I think it would help. No funny business, though, I swear to god. I just…”

As he trails off, his eyebrows part and face softens. He shakes his head like he can’t explain it further. His eyes are shiny in the light of the TV and he looks like he’s tearing up. You’ve never seen him cry. But the panic can do weird things. You’re well acquainted with the panic, unfortunately. 

You swallow hard and nod, “Y-yeah, that’s fine.” 

There’s a momentary ruckus while the two of you scoot and reconfigure. Your back settles against his chest and one of his arms tucks under your cheek. The other wraps around your belly, drawing you close, “You comfy?”

“Yeah,” you answer. 

“Are you sure this is ok?” he asks. His voice is low and shaky. It vibrates against your skin and sinks down into the marrow of your bones. If you’re still enough, and keep your breaths shallow enough, you can feel his bass drum heart pounding in his chest at a bpm familiar to you. 

“Yeah, it’s fine, Frankie,” you assure him, enveloping his hand at your belly with your own. He takes a deep breath and the exhale tickles your ear.

On the TV, Jules Winnfield and Vincent Vega are chatting about hash, but you can barely pay attention. 

Frankie’s warmth is a sedative. It always has been. Much to your disdain, you hope the feeling is mutual. And you think it could be, because his thudding heart seems to slow. His body relaxes against yours. 

And it’s so unfair how he can make you feel like this. How, one second he makes you so nervous you could puke, or so frustrated you want to scream in his face, then the next he’s holding you and it’s like your soul is finally resting here with his. 

You think about your date with Rory. He was a gentleman and seems like he’s stable and nice enough. The kiss was fine, good even, but not electric. And that’s fine, because in your experience, first kisses are almost always lackluster. 

Your first kiss with Frankie was like lightning, though. 

Months passed working for the Morales family and you came to be more comfortable with Frankie being around while you cooked dinner. Your conversations were mostly functional, about Sarah or things around their house. But you found him charming and your crush only grew more intense. 

Sometimes you would watch Sarah on Saturday nights so he and Angie could go out on a date. One of these Saturdays, they came home at 1 AM, and Angie was hammered. 

She stumbled up the stairs and plopped down on the couch next to you. Her black hair was mussed and she was all giggly. She said something in Spanish to Frankie, and turned to you, “Do you wan’ chicken strips?” 

“You- you don’t have to feed me, that’s ok, Mrs. Morales-” you stammered, going to stand up and get ready to leave.

“Oh hun, call me Angie, I’m begging you,” she grabbed your arm, “And stay, please! Chicken strips! Come on, hang out with me.” 

“Um…” You glanced around to gauge Frankie’s reaction, but he was in the kitchen preheating the oven, so you nodded, “Sure, ok.” 

“Yay!” Angie clapped, then sprawled out on the couch and propped her heels up on your leg, “Do me a favor, hun, take these off for me?” 

You chuckled and examined the shiny silver clasp of her stilettos, working to undo the strap across her foot as she asked, “So what’s your deal, are you single, do you have a boyfriend, girlfriend, what?” 

“Ang, come on,” Frankie chided from the kitchen as he pulled a few beers from the fridge. 

“What? I’m just asking!” she scoffed at him, then tilted her head at you with a hazy drunk smile, waiting for you to answer. 

You managed to unclasp her shoes, despite her wiggling, and they thudded to the floor one by one.  

Frankie walked past, handing an open beer bottle to you, then another to her, before sitting down on the loveseat. He kept glancing over at you and Angie, then up at the TV, which was playing King of the Hill. 

“I’m single, yeah,” you sighed and took a sip of beer, “Unfortunately.” 

“Hey, nothing wrong with that, girlie. Enjoy it while you still can.” Angie said, then set her full beer bottle on the ground and groaned, “Oh my god I have to get out of this fucking dress. I’ll be back, don’t go anywhere.” 

She marched off into their bedroom, swaying gently as she walked. This was all very amusing to you because you had never seen her be anything but intimidatingly perfect. 

You pulled out your phone and scrolled for a bit, sipping at your beer while waiting for her. Every once in a while, you found yourself looking over at Frankie, who was picking at the label on his beer bottle with his eyes glued to the TV. 

A shrill beep from the oven indicated it was preheated. He rose to his feet and walked down the hallway to their bedroom. You heard the click of the door closing, then he returned to the living room and asked, “She’s passed out, do you really want chicken strips?” 

“No, not really,” you chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear and dropping your gaze to your beer bottle. 

“And you don’t have to stay or anything like that, no pressure,” he advised. 

You glanced up at him and got caught in his dark, warm eyes for a moment before you shook your head, “No, I’ll stay and finish this, if that’s ok.” 

“Of course, make yourself at home,” he assured you with an easy smile, then sat down in the middle of the couch, just a foot away from you. 

And you fucking knew what you were doing by staying. That’s the worst part. Attraction hung thick in the air between your bodies. It dampened your skin and condensed inside you. 

Every so often in the weeks preceding, you caught him staring at you, and vice versa. More and more, the eye contact lingered just a bit longer than appropriate. Just long enough to make you wonder. It seized your heart and pumped all the blood in your body between your legs and up your neck. 

The prospect of his affection was on your mind all the fucking time. Every time he’d laugh at one of your jokes, or brush up against you in passing, or find a reason to touch you intentionally, you wanted it to last forever. 

But you didn’t initiate anything. You were content admiring him from afar, wondering if his lingering looks meant he wanted you, too. He was at least fifteen years older than you, married, and your fucking employer. There was no way in hell you would risk your livelihood by making a move on him, no matter how tempted you were. 

If he pursued you, though… that would be different. And you desperately wanted him to. 

“I’m sorry about Ang,” he said, leaning back against the couch, “She drank a lot tonight.” 

You chuckled and shook your head, “Totally fine. We all have to let loose every once and a while.” 

He hummed in agreement, and your eyes flicked to his, and they were so intent on your face that your heart started racing. 

“And how do you like to let loose?” he rumbled, his gaze dropping to your mouth. 

Your lips parted. You managed to quirk a brow and breathe, “Are you sure you wanna know?” 

Frankie sat forward, taking your beer and setting it on the ground. You could smell his whiskey-soaked mouth. The woody scent of his cologne. His hand rested on your knee. A shiver jolted across your skin and you swallowed hard. 

“I think I might know,” he murmured, sliding his hand down further, setting his thumb into motion against your tender inner thigh, leaning closer. 

“This is a bad idea,” you warned him in a whisper, but brought yourself closer to his beckoning lips, insides coiling tight, begging for you to just fucking do it. 

“Terrible idea,” he agreed, brushing his nose against yours, bringing his hand to your chin, holding it as he took the plunge and pressed his lips against yours. 

The kiss was a slow peck that lingered with heat, and when he peeled his lips from yours, murmuring, “Sorry-” you grabbed onto his shirt and pulled him back in, all hot-blooded and eager, savoring the softness of his pillowy lips, the harsh liquor burn on his breath. You couldn’t help but whimper as his tongue rolled wet against yours. He renewed it with hungry urgency, cupping your cheeks, pulling you closer, both of you completely lost and breathless. 

You tried to sit up, to get closer, to crawl inside him if you could, but knocked over the bottle of beer with a sharp clink. Both of you jumped apart at the disruption. 

“Shit,” he hissed and stood up, striding to the kitchen. You stood up, too, trying to catch your breath and regain your composure. The spell was broken. The weight of what just happened crashed down on you all at once. 

You snatched your purse up off the floor just as he came back into the room with a wad of paper towels. 

“I’m sorry-” you faltered. 

He shook his head, “No, no, don’t worry, it’s fine.” 

“No it’s not fine, you’re-” your eyes darted to the closed bedroom door where his wife was sleeping and whispered, “You’re married. And- and- I work for you, I’m an idiot. I just have a stupid crush. An- and I won’t do it again.”

“Hey, no, don’t-” his voice was pleading and soft. He reached out to you but you shook your head and dropped your eyes to the ground, crossing your arms. 

“I have to go, but I’ll see you on Monday, ok?” you pushed past him to leave. 

The whole drive home, the whole next day, you were so fucking mad at yourself. You had never done something like that with your employer. It was unprofessional and wrong. 

Yet… 

The kiss consumed you. It’s all you could think about. You wanted it to happen again. You wanted it to go further. It set you on fire and the flames felt fucking exquisite. 

And now, as Frankie is holding you, nuzzling against your shoulder, and you feel whole and calm and safe like you can’t with anyone else, you wonder for the millionth time if you’ll ever find this with someone who loves you back. 

You drag the silver tines of your fork across the barest section of your ceramic plate just to watch Frankie squirm at the ear-piercing squeak. Family dinner again. A stalemate for who goes first again. 

“I’m gonna keep doing this until you start,” you advise, then make the noise happen again, “I can do this all night.” 

He closes his eyes and tilts his head back, sending his cap onto the floor behind him, “It’s just gonna start a fight.” 

“I don’t give a shit,” you blink and prop your chin up on the heel of your palm, “Not saying anything will also start a fight, so…” 

Frankie just swings his head back to neutral and stares at you, his arms crossed, elbows resting on the table. 

You scrape your fork against the plate and smirk at him. 

“Jesus fucking Christ fine,” he groans, running his hands down his face before crossing his arms again. His eyes meet yours and he opens his mouth to speak, letting it gape for a moment, then admits, “While we’re living together, I think maybe…”

He snaps his mouth shut into a straight line and drops his eyes to your picked over plate. You rub the tines back and forth against the ceramic rapidly, “Just say it, come on, Franklin.” 

He glares at you, half joking, and scoffs, “You know that’s not my name,” then he reaches across the table, trying to snatch the utensil from you hand, “And I’m gonna take that goddamn fork away-”

“The fuck you are,” you laugh as you pull it away from his reach, then try to coax him to complete his thought, “While we’re living together, you think maybe…?”

“I think maybe we shouldn’t have other people over,” he tells you quietly, sitting back in his seat with a sigh, meeting your eyes for a moment before dropping them to the table. 

“What do you mean by other people?” you search his face. 

“Dates, you know, like,” the muscles in his face tense as he clenches his jaw and grinds his teeth together. 

You drop your fork on the plate and cross your arms, “Like the guy I went out with last night? Like you don’t want me to date other people while you’re living here? Really?”

“Like I don’t want to hear you getting fucking railed-”

“This is my fucking house, Francisco, and we are not dating,” you bite off, “Just because you’re jealous doesn’t mean I have to be abstinent-”

“I’m not asking you to take a fucking vow of celibacy, I’m just saying I don’t want to see or hear that shit when I’m here,” he argues. 

“Because you’re jealous,” you state. 

“Sure,” he shakes his head, “Whatever.” 

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite,” you spit. 

“What?! How?” he barks, throwing his hands up at his sides. 

“Do you know how many times I had to see you and Angie kissing and holding hands and making fucking goo-goo eyes at each other?” you grind out, shaking your head in disbelief, “But I can’t have people I’m dating in my own house? Ok, Frankie.”

“That is not the sa-”

“Bullshit,” you lean into the word as you hurl it at him, then scoff and tell him, “When I went to Australia with you guys, I heard you fucking her every single night. Did you know that?” 

His eyes flick to yours. He’s scowling like a sullen child. 

“Then you would wait until she fell asleep and- and you would come to me,” you feel the pain from this buried memory surfacing in your chest, burning behind your eyes, “And you smelled like her, and I was-” a sob bubbles up your throat. Tears roll hot down your cheeks, and you meet his eyes so he can understand, “I was so fucking in love with you, Frankie.” 

His face softens and his shoulders sag. 

“So I really don’t want to hear how uncomfortable my love life makes you while you’re living here,” you sniffle, then wipe your eyes with your hands. He searches your face, but doesn’t say anything. You bite down on your tongue and hold it for a moment, then ask, “Did you ever think about how it was for me? Seeing you two together?” 

His adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He shakes his head. 

“I didn’t think so,” you mutter, looking down at your half-eaten plate and pushing it away with a sigh, “I won’t have sex with anyone when you’re here. But I’m not going to ban people I’m dating from my own house just for your sake.”

He nods, “Ok.” 

Both of you stew in this silence, soaking in the words that were exchanged. It’s not uncomfortable, just heavy with the weight of the conversation.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Frankie looks up at you. 

You search his somber face, “Tell you what?” 

“That it hurt to see me with her,” he presses his elbows into the table, clasping his hands in front of his mouth, “I mean, obviously, I should have known, but…” 

“I didn’t wanna lose you,” you shrug loosely, gather all of your guts in a bundle and tell him, “If I told you, it would come down to choosing between me or her. And… you’ll choose her every time.” 

He sits with this information, staring down the hallway to his bedroom, but so much further. His chest expands with a deep breath, and he exhales, “I’m sorry for hurting you.”

You fight the urge to comfort him and tell him it’s ok. Instead, you nod in acknowledgment. 

“I was really shitty to you for a really long time. And- and you’re right. I’m a fucking hypocrite,” he furrows his brow and rolls his head on his shoulders to look at you, “Why did you even agree to this?”

“To be fair, this is not what I thought was going to happen when I bailed you out,” you chuckle, then release a heavy sigh, “But, I mean… I probably still would have done it if I knew. I care about you. And I want you to get better.” 

The corners of his lips curl upward just a little, eyebrows lowering as he murmurs, “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” you smile warmly and wait a moment before stretching the smile out wider, “Ralph is gonna be so proud of us.” 

Frankie laughs, his dark eyes folding into crescents, and nods, “He’s gonna put a gold star on my worksheet tomorrow.” 

You push your chair back and stand up, yawning as you stretch your arms towards the ceiling. 

He gets to his feet, too, grabbing his hat off the floor and putting it back on before piling dishes from the table into a stack, “You going to bed, or you wanna puzzle it up?” 

“I’m down to puzzle,” you grin, “As long as we don’t fall asleep on the couch again, my neck is fucking killing me.”

“You’re tellin’ me,” he snorts, taking wide strides to the sink, “I’m gonna do the dishes, but I’ll be there in a minute.” 

With a nod, you tiptoe into the living room and kneel before the coffee table, examining all the fragmented parts of the puzzle still left to put together. Slowly but surely, it’s starting to resemble a bigger picture. 

You’ve always found puzzles to be comforting. 

Something about the heap of jigsawed pieces when you open the box. All of them broken and indistinguishable in their own right. How you put them together, bit by bit. Proceeding even when it seems impossible. How, eventually, they all come together to make something beautiful. 

[ Next Chapter ]

[97-liners]

rounding out my pokemon au

dokyeom is a cafe owner-- dk's cafe is the premier place to go for moomoo milk lattes and berry smoothies! he roasts his own beans and picks his berries fresh every morning. he's a regular sight around town, riding his bike around with his companion dachsbun sitting in the basket

dk team composition:

(when he was younger, dk was also known as shorts boy, because he'd always be wearing shorts. they're comfy and easy to wear!)

woozi is a researcher with a specific focus on meloetta. in his spare time, he produces music that can induce specific effects on pokemon. i think it's tempting to give him a music-themed team, but he's very tender-hearted even though he pretends to be all cold and prickly, so i think his team is full of pokemon who come to the lab needing help and end up imprinting on him and he becomes too attached to release them:

^ psyduck (like all psyducks) has chronic migraines and imprinted on woozi and thinks he's his mom. goodra, despite being very powerful and totally capable of thriving in the wild on her own, is scared of everything and too anxious to leave woozi's side. and there's nothing wrong with scraggy, he just likes hanging out in the lab with woozi

wonwoo is a regular ass dude. he has a day job at the silph company as an electrical engineer on the pokedex product team. he has a team and was a trainer when he was a kid, but only because his parents made him (a great extracurricular for college applications). he hasn't battled in years and is fine with that, because he's content being a regular guy with a day job and an apartment.

wonwoo's "team":

meowth is straight up wonwoo's pet cat and was a stray that snuck into his apartment one day. murkrow is meowth's buddy from the streets and started showing up on wonwoo's balcony. metagross is a former member of his competitive battle team and was raised from a beldum. in his retirement, metagross enjoys napping on the roof of the apartment building while meowth and murkrow sunbathe on his warm body.

[justanothergeek77]

how to solve everything

stop punishing the homeless and let them sleep in peace

better yet, give them a roof over their heads, a shelter at least

but the rent is too high. most homeless people have jobs, you know. but minimum wage can't cover rent, these days

we need legislation. we need rent control. lower rents, raise minimum wage, make this country livable again

rent used to be 1/4 of your income, including utilities

can we have that again?

punish the landlords and real estate companies

seize all the AirBnB's

ignore all the NIMBY's

make a livable city

stop putting cars on the streets where we walk

tax gas, build EV infrastructure

improve public transit

the formerly-homeless can take the train to work,

or to the library,

or the open square with public seating and restrooms and plenty of shade

you do have those, right?

with people sleeping on benches, not because they have nowhere else to sleep, but because it's a beautiful day and they wanted a nap

listening to people milling around them, talking and laughing

sitting together, eating or playing

or alone, reading, listening to music, watching people go by

surrounded by green foliage and white concrete and wooden furniture

shaded by large, old trees

trolley tracks running down the street

bikes going by,

the occasional car, too

did you think they would vanish?

there are people who need cars, you know

but now they're electric, quiet and smooth

and the roads are more clear

for when an ambulance comes through

public spaces are a given, aren't they?

and benches along sidewalks and at every bus stop

public bathrooms in every square

libraries and community centers

and parks for all ages

wouldn't that be nice?

but then, what about the rest?

the world outside the city-

the highways, the rail lines, the small towns and farmland

what do they have, and what do they need?

highways nearly empty, no longer stinking of exhaust

rail lines running along each one,

diverging into the far-off country

to small towns surrounded by farms

to pick up produce to move ten, twenty, a hundred miles

but not much further

public spaces out here, too

funding and insurance, a safety net for all

fields no longer monoculture, but rather filled with endless variety

covered in pollinators and some unwanted bugs,

a small price to pay for biodiversity

maybe the chickens can eat them, or the mint could keep them away

it matters less, now, if some crop is lost;

you can't lose your home, won't go hungry, won't lose water or power

not so long as we have anything to say about it

it's a pretty ideal, isn't it?

I'm rambling a bit here, but

this is the world I want to live in

I want to fix everything

I'm not sure how

but maybe I can start with something small

a basil plant in my window

and a vote sent in the mail

[jcmarchi]

How Will the Car Sharing Apps Redefine Transportation in Cities - Technology Org

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/how-will-the-car-sharing-apps-redefine-transportation-in-cities-technology-org/

How Will the Car Sharing Apps Redefine Transportation in Cities - Technology Org

Car-sharing apps have revolutionized urban transport and have impacted every urban resident’s everyday traveling system. For example, the contemporary versions of these transport models are cost-effective, environmentally friendly, and reliable.

This article takes a detailed examination of the car-sharing apps and the impact they have on changing and reshaping urbanity.

Cars in the street – illustrative photo. Image credit: Evgeny Tchebotarev via Unsplash, free license

Evolution of Urban Transportation

Traditional urban transport suffered several problems, including jamming, air pollution, and cumbersome transit systems. However, some alternatives or additional measures include ride-sharing through apps such as Lyft, Uber, and Zipcar.

Cheap, modern, and flexible alternative modes of transport. Space utilization optimization, for instance, through ride-sharing services, makes fewer cars fuller and, thus, less jammed on the roads.

In urban cities, sharing apps can quickly transport people, decreasing personal vehicle ownership and easing traffic jams. These platforms are often associated with metro transport systems, thereby giving commuters mixed transit modes.

Advantages of Car-Sharing Apps

Car-sharing apps have revolutionized transport access, resulting in considerable environmental and urban mobility implications. For example, apps are designed to serve people with shared cars to increase accessibility, economy, reduced city traffic, environmental friendliness, and various vehicle models.

In densely populated cities with few parking spaces, some apps make it possible to rent a car via mobile phone. Such applications improve accessibility and convenience compared to having an individual auto. Users will never experience any maintenance-related difficulties since it is not required, and they will not confront parking problems when wanting to find a “vehicle on demand.”

More so, they help improve value for money because a client only gets chargers based on usage rather than car ownership, including insurance coverage and repairs. Likewise, these help reduce traffic jams and private car-related pollution along the roadways. Converted from AI-written to human-written

Like other car-sharing applications, it also helps the environment by offering an electrical/hybrid model, which decreases overall carbon discharge. The company includes several options on car alternatives that one can select based on his own needs, whether they are cheap cars for short rides or bigger cars for long journeys.

Impact on Urban Infrastructure

Measures such as reducing dependence on personal cars and leveraging public parks and public transport extensively impact improved urban infrastructure. Such a move minimizes the traffic jams experienced in an area, reduces air pollution, and encourages eco-friendly transport.

Therefore, cities could enhance accessibility, reduce carbon emissions, and make the city greener if they encourage public transport, biking, and walking as alternatives to private cars and ensure the multifunctional character of the limited number of car parks.

Societal Implications

Major transformations of urban social geography involve new trends in travel patterns, improved mobility options for underprivileged areas, and social issues such as gentrification, which has impacted communities.

This evolution cross-cuts and reconfigures life, job, and interpersonal relations in every way; the aftereffects of this developmental path need to be looked into.

Changes in Commuting Behaviors

Technology and new work patterns are changing their traditional commuting models. Digital tools, flexible schedules, and the possibility to work at home are changing commuting into a city and determining the number of people who spend days in the week or weekends, depending on these categories and affecting traffic volume on roads and public transport.

Accessibility Improvements for Underserved Areas

Firstly, access entails physical infrastructure and technology links. It involves intra-transport issues and providing better digital access towards increased community development, economic participation, and reducing disparities. Socio-Economic Impact on Communities

This change results in working attitudes, economic opportunities, and societal behaviors. Wealth redistribution via remoteness and economic growth through increased accessibility could widen some inequalities, highlighting the importance of such a policy.

Challenges and Considerations

These raise other safety, regulation, privacy, and maintenance issues alongside equity and accessibility issues.

Regulatory, Privacy, and Maintenance Concerns

Regulatory Challenges: The technology frequently works under tremendous pressure to adjust to modifications. Nevertheless, the hurdle of fashioning and enforcing even-handed measures that support creativity but protect people from safety and information dangers remains a thorny endeavor.

Privacy Concerns: The higher the level of technology in our lives, the more critical it becomes to safeguard our privacy. Privacy laws and innovations constantly require balancing on issues relating to information collection.

Addressing Equity and Accessibility Issues

Digital Divide: Digital divides result from existing disparities in access to technology and the internet, limiting education access, prospects for employment, and critical service channels. It implies that concerted efforts should be aimed at narrowing down this gap through equitable allocation of such resources in all communities.

Accessibility Concerns: Technology should integrate everybody’s rights. While this could be pretty difficult to guarantee, fair treatment of society is critical for engagement.

Future Prospects and Innovations

Autonomous vehicles and partnerships between city planners and technology innovators are two transforming factors shaping the future of transport.

Technological Advancements & Autonomous Vehicles

With these significant developments in AI, sensors, and connectivity, there is an opportunity to develop self-driven vehicles that will ensure a safer and more convenient transport system. For wide-scale adoption, there has to be a way of dealing with such challenges as regulation and essential infrastructures.

Collaboration for Sustainable Mobility

Innovators in tech work with cities dealing with congestion and environmental problems, developing innovative green transport solutions. The city’s urban plan involving independent cars helps decongest people’s traffic movements.

This combination of autonomous technology with collaborative urban planning will be a breakthrough for transforming transport systems regarding safety, efficiency, and environmental sustainability.

Conclusion

Car-sharing applications have transformed how people move around cities, providing cheaper, greener, and more accessible options than traditional ways of travel. Such applications have changed cities where they have de-congested roads, improved accessibility, and minimized environmental issues in shared transportation measures.

In this respect, embracing the ongoing technological revolution, particularly regarding self-driving cars, and promoting partnerships and joint initiatives among urban designers and tech pioneers will define the way forward for transportation.

I would advise you to visit Dyler, an online platform specializing in finding new transportation methods and a love for classic, sports, and luxury cars.

These automobile miracles are displayed on Dylers’ platform, where the lovers of immortal cars hang out.

[social-engineering-kit]

The impact of Education on Sustainable Development.

Sustainable development has become a buzzword in recent years, and for a good reason. As our world grapples with environmental, social, and economic challenges, the concept of sustainable development offers a promising path towards a brighter and more equitable future. In this blog, we'll explore what sustainable development is, why it's essential, and how individuals, communities, and governments can contribute to this transformative journey.

Understanding Sustainable Development:

Sustainable development is a holistic approach to improving our quality of life while preserving the planet's resources for future generations. It's about finding a balance between economic growth, social progress, and environmental protection. The term was popularized in 1987 by the Brundtland Commission, which defined it as "development that meets the needs of the present without compromising the ability of future generations to meet their own needs."

Key Principles of Sustainable Development:

Environmental Stewardship: Preserving and restoring the natural environment, reducing pollution, and conserving biodiversity are essential components of sustainable development.

Social Equity: Sustainable development promotes inclusive growth, ensuring that everyone has access to basic needs such as clean water, food, education, and healthcare.

Economic Prosperity: While protecting the environment and promoting social equity, sustainable development also aims to foster economic growth and create opportunities for all.

The Importance of Sustainable Development:

Environmental Preservation: As climate change, pollution, and habitat destruction threaten our planet's health, sustainable development offers a roadmap to mitigate these issues.

Social Inclusion: It seeks to reduce inequality and ensure that no one is left behind, addressing poverty and improving access to education and healthcare.

Economic Stability: By encouraging responsible economic practices, sustainable development helps create long-term economic stability, reducing the risk of financial crises.

How to Contribute to Sustainable Development:

Reduce, Reuse, Recycle: Small everyday actions, like reducing waste and conserving resources, can have a big impact.

Support Sustainable Businesses: Choose products and services from companies committed to environmentally and socially responsible practices.

Advocate for Change: Raise awareness and demand policy changes that promote sustainable development at the local, national, and global levels.

Invest in Renewable Energy: Support the transition to clean, renewable energy sources to reduce greenhouse gas emissions.

Community Engagement: Get involved in local initiatives, volunteer, and work with your community to address sustainability issues.

Sustainable development is not just a buzzword; it's a call to action. It represents a vision for a better, more equitable, and environmentally responsible future. By understanding its principles and taking small, everyday actions, we can all contribute to this important global effort. Sustainable development isn't just a goal; it's a journey, and we must all be willing travelers on this path towards a brighter future.

Key Aspects of Sustainable Development:

Energy Transition: Sustainable development encourages the transition from fossil fuels to renewable energy sources like solar, wind, and hydroelectric power. This shift not only reduces carbon emissions but also creates jobs in the green energy sector.

Responsible Consumption: Reduce your ecological for being mindful of what you consume. Buy locally-produced goods to support the community and reduce the carbon footprint associated with transportation. Embrace the "circular economy" concept by repairing and reusing items when possible.

Eco-friendly Transportation: Opt for public transportation, carpooling, biking, or walking when possible to reduce your carbon emissions. Electric and hybrid vehicles are also more eco-friendly alternatives.

Conservation of Ecosystems: Support and participate in conservation efforts in your area. Protecting and restoring natural ecosystems, including forests, wetlands, and marine environments, is crucial for biodiversity and climate mitigation.

More Ways to Contribute to Sustainable Development:

Education and Awareness: Stay informed about sustainability issues and share this knowledge with others. Organize workshops, seminars, or awareness campaigns in your community to educate people about the importance of sustainable living.

Green Building and Sustainable Architecture: Encourage or adopt green building practices, which use energy-efficient designs and materials. Sustainable architecture can significantly reduce energy consumption and the environmental impact of construction.

Waste Management: Practice responsible waste management by composting organic waste and recycling. Encourage local authorities to improve recycling programs and reduce single-use plastics.

Water Conservation: Conserve water by fixing leaks, using water-saving appliances, and adopting practices like rainwater harvesting. Promote efficient water use in your community and support policies for responsible water management.

Advocacy and Activism: Join or support organizations and movements advocating for sustainable policies and practices. Lobby for sustainable development in your region and at higher government levels.

Sustainable development is a multifaceted and ongoing journey. By focusing on the key aspects of sustainable development and incorporating these additional strategies into your lifestyle and advocacy efforts, you can make a meaningful contribution towards building a more resilient, equitable, and environmentally responsible world. Remember, every small action counts, and collectively, we can bring about transformative change for a sustainable

[garlandwaterheaterrepair]

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[vintagepresley]

Did Elvis want to be a singer? Or did he want to be something else? Like a music teacher?

I know his intention wasn’t really to become a singer at first. It was something he just enjoyed to do. His family said he’d run up to choir in church when he was a toddler and start to sing (so cute). Like it seemed like it was just something he liked as a child. When his parents got him his guitar (he originally wanted a bike but the guitar was cheaper) and when he started to learn to play I think that sparked his interest in singing more. That he would sing for everyone sometimes in complete darkness because he was so shy. 🥺 He also participated in a talent show playing guitar and singing. But from what I read as he got older and got a job; he worked for an electric company and his goal was to become an electrician so that he could take care of his parents. But singing was his passion by that point and well.. we know the rest. He recorded his first song (apparently as a gift for his mom because the song was her favorite). It slowly took off from there.

I know there’s more to it but that’s the short version. Anyone is welcome to add to it if I got something wrong.

Honestly, I feel like had he not become a singer that he probably would’ve became a police officer because of his respect and love for law enforcement. Just my opinion.

[gonemechaniic]

𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐦 :: FFVII verse

Cindy Sophia Aurum is the only child of Marcus and Cynthia Aurum, both highly skilled engineers in their respective fields of Advanced Weaponry ( Cynthia ) and Urban Development ( Marcus ).  She lived a relatively normal and happy life living in the residential area of Plate 7 until a tragic accident takes her parents’ life when she was just six years old.  After a rather uncharacteristic monetary consolation gift from Shinra after losing two of its more accomplished employees, Cindy later lives with her uncle ( Cynthia's older brother ) Bernard and while it was a little rough going, she finds a fair bit of optimism and a reason to smile again. 

Growing up she discovered a love for tinkering and managed to excel in her schooling, mastering electrical engineering and mechanics at a relatively young age.  After school, she decided to work for Shinra despite her family’s warnings or apprehensions and, to their further surprise, established her talents in both Urban Development and Weaponry departments. 

Naturally, this pulls her a little thin at the edges and given the somewhat ‘eat or be eaten’ mentality within the company, those edges begin to sharpen to a more icy, realistic exterior when rising through the ranks.  She’s taken to curb her ‘country hospitality’ demeanor, dropping the drawl in her accent and going by Sophia more often than not and it’s safe to say friends are few and far between seeing as she feels she has little time for it. 

Yet in the back of her mind, something feels off, knowing this was the last place her parents were before their deaths.  Curiosity springs doubts which cause her to question if their demise was merely by chance or by foul play.   

extra tidbits taken from previous aesthetic/brainstorming posts…

Cindy, being the smarty pants that she is, is 15 when she goes to pursue her higher education, 20 after graduating, and 21 when she begins working at Shinra. She’s around 26 when the events of FFVII begin. 

Usually wears what could best be described as a bridal ( yes I am taking the ‘married to the job' aesthetic for cereal ) power suit. White slacks, white, long-sleeved blazer which, if working with her hands on something, can be removed to reveal either ( depending on the mood ) a white or black haltered corseted top. Also the only time one could see the cluster of sunflowers tattooed on her right shoulder or the set of gears running down her spine. Hair is curly reaching roughly waist length but is almost always kept in a braided bun. 

When she starts working with Avalanche, however, it shifts dramatically to high-waisted jean shorts and biker boots with a brown leather, leg-holstered utility belt. She still wears the corset tops but mostly has one of her dad’s old flannels over it, unbuttoned and tied around her waist. This time her hair is more playfully messy either in a bun or ponytail.  

She is very dedicated to her work and given the nature of her work environment, has taken a more gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss attitude while on the job.

Is very reserved and a little bit cold however when comfortable enough she does show a bit more of a casual side; a touch more sarcastic and maybe even gives a bit of a smile if the situation calls for it. 

Paints, cooks, and dances in her free time.... whenever she decides to give herself free time >_>

Only has a hint of a country accent and owns an exotic cat named Lexus that sometimes hangs out in her office.

Her main mode of transportation is a motorcycle called Killer Bee. It is a completely customized mix between a chopper ( in regards to size ) and a sport ( in regards to design ) bike. The base of the body is matte black with a shiny, pearlescent yellow streak that starts from the top before splitting into two stripes along the sides. It is very loud, it is very fast, and it is her pride and joy

[waytootiredstudent]

Actually it's really really good and so much more! Bc there's a bunch of stuff in that new law. It's not just smartphones. It's about all portable batteries and their waste.

Here is an article doing a good job, here is the EU press statement and here is the law itself.

Tldr: EU is changing it's laws for portable batteries forcing companies worldwide to adapt and taking steps towards a better life-cycle for batteries, including accessiblity to repair and responsibilty for their waste. It's a good thing for both consumers and the enviroment.

It's not just smartphones. It's ALL portable batteries. That includes from laptops and tablets to e-bikes and "industrial batteries, starting, lightning and ignition (SLI) batteries (used mostly for vehicles and machinery) and batteries for light means of transport (e.g. electric bikes, e-mopeds, e-scooters)" (EU Statement) basically anything with a rechargeable battery.

and it's not just so that every normie can do the batterie swap - it also makes rules about how they're responsible for the waste of the batteries and that they have to be collected. It's about how the batteries need to be recyled instead of disposed, so that instead of batteries needing to be more and more and more, it's about using the ones we already got or at least part of them. It helps not just the enviroment, it helps (hopefully) with the explotation in other countries were the materials for the batteries are coming from, often exorting the workers.

For that batteries are going to need lables and sources were they come from with that law. That makes the sourcing of their batteries a problem for the company were they can't just hide behind the fact that nobody can see wtf is going on. It's a bit for transperency and it opens up the market to reycling of batteries as a lucrative deal.

Pretty nice step in the right direction when it comes to repairing things as well! They specified for smartphones and the like that you need to be able to do it even as a newbie with no clue and that for more complicated things an independent third party proffessional should be able to do it. That's a pretty major 'fuck off' when it comes to tactics like specialized screws etc. that make repairing currently such a pain in the ass. And if you can reach the battery than chances are high that you can reach other parts of the phone as well, espacially in case companies go away from just glueing everything together.

And yeah. This is an EU law, not a world wide one. But the EU is a pretty major client. Apple will not make a phone specifically for the EU. It's gonna have a world-wide impact on how batteries are handled. That's pretty awesome.

LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOO

[dwollsadventures]

TDG (Acronym Pending) Chapter 2: Real Estate Resentment

In the second chapter of the TDG (Acronym Pending), Dwoll's boss Quatroctus is dealing with electrical troubles. The power couldn't have chosen a worse time to act up, as a real estate agent is coming over to look into buying their enormous, useless base.

Have some extra time on Thanksgiving? Curl up with some leftover turkey and electrocution.

Read beneath the read more link, or check it out on deviantart or wattpad.

Pitch black darkness and absolute silence greeted Dwoll as he woke up. The tinny whine of his wind-up clock hadn’t gone off yet. He’d gotten into the habit of waking up a minute before it, just to turn off its alarm. Even though he couldn’t see it, he knew it would read 5:59 am. 

Next to his bed was a folded pair of jogging shorts, a sweatshirt, and running shoes. Dwoll tugged them on in the darkness of his room. 

It was the middle of March, so the morning was still an hour away, a faint yellowish haze over the slowly-brightening blue of the sky’s dome. 

Dwoll left the base, making sure to close the non-functional automatic doors behind him. 

He walked across the parking lot to the little bike path next to the creek. 

Beginning his morning jog, just as he did every day, Dwoll got a good view of the TDG base. 

Almost two months ago, the TDG received their first ever job since forming the company. A local grocery store had been haunted by the apparition of a serpent for years. Consecutive appearances of the creature rendered the store insolvent. It was all but abandoned when Dwoll, Ariel, and Quatroctus went in, found the snake, and found it surprisingly agreeable. The job went off without a hitch… and then Quatroctus shocked everyone by announcing that they owned the grocery store now. As part of the payment, he agreed to take ownership of the building at an incredibly low price. For a grocery store. So he still ended up sinking a few thousand into the deal, along with much more in the subsequent renovations. 

Dwoll still didn't know why Q did that. Every time he asked, the businessman would simply say it would be an amazing turn on investment when the repairs were done. 

His own room used to be an employee break room, replete with a counter around one side, a sink, and cabinets which he used as storage for his research notes and samples. 

Dwoll liked having his own room. During his research, he had camped in every condition conceivable, even less than a mile from an active volcano in Iceland. Q promised him and Ariel free room and board as part of his employment. It certainly beat camping out in public areas, which is what he'd done before getting the job, yet he had to wonder how long it would last. 

Quatroctus had money, lots of it. The purchase of an entire grocery store alone proved it. But, how much did he have? And why was he so worked up about the seller coming today? 

He finished his daily jog before the sun fully rose. The light highlighted the faded letters of “Grocery Outlet” on their building's front. 

To get back to the living quarters, Dwoll had to pass through what he affectionately thought of as their foyer. In reality it used to be the main floor of the grocery store. Without the aisles of shelves it was merely an enormous, empty void of concrete. They had to cross it every time they wanted to use the restrooms. Previously public restrooms, still on the same side of the building as the front doors. 

From his room, Dwoll got the stack of day clothes he’d laid out the previous night, and a towel. Then he went to the showers. 

The showers were one of the few entirely new additions. Money well-spent, in Dwoll’s opinion. A good shower could do wonders for the body and mind. He always took them cold in the mornings after his jog, to wake himself up. 

After a brisk, brief bit of soaping and lathering, Dwoll’s automated movements took him to the kitchen. Previously a walk-in refrigerator, they turned off the cooling so they wouldn’t freeze to death every time they cooked a meal. Although, Dwoll couldn’t recall a single day where the entire team cooked together, or ate the same meal. Sometimes he and Ariel would sit down together to talk and eat (an elective activity for Ariel). 

Dwoll grabbed the mug of black waiting beneath the coffee machine. 

How long could this arrangement last? What else could I do? Get a part-time job? 

Wait a second. This isn’t coffee, it’s just a mug full of cold water. 

It was only at this point that Dwoll realized the power was out. He stood in their make-shift kitchen in complete darkness. 

The pattern of routine had allowed him to act in complete confidence. Now that he was aware he was without light, Dwoll started stumbling, clutching at the walls for guidance. 

Much wobbling and blind grasping brought him to the back rooms that served as their hallways and communal area. In it, staring at the fuse box with an active flashlight in his mouth, working furtively with the switches, was Quatroctus. 

At first, Dwoll was put off by the name of his employer, but further thought changed his mind. It wasn't like Dwoll was his real name either. And in their line of work, using a pseudonym was a safe precaution. 

It was hard to be put off by Quatroctus otherwise. He was a Japanese-American man of shorter than average height, younger than Dwoll, but by how many years he did not know. Today his hair was combed neatly and he was in red and black dress clothes. From what Dwoll knew, Q had two modes: business and relaxation (characterized by sweats and a robe), and nothing in between. 

“What’s going on?” Dwoll asked. 

Q slammed the fuse box shut. “Oh, nothing much, the universe is just demonstrating how much it hates me.

“Our buyer is coming in fifteen minutes and all of the power is out. The electricity, the gas, the water heater- wait, didn't you just take a shower?” 

“Oh, I always take a cold shower in the morning.” 

Quatroctus looked at Dwoll as if he had just announced he was an alien from Mars.

“Whatever, the point is, we need to fix the power before she gets here.”

He handed Dwoll the flashlight and a screwdriver. “Congratulations, you’ve been promoted to handyman.” 

Dwoll sputtered as Q walked away, holding the tools like foreign objects. “I-I-I must ask that you reconsider, I know nothing about this!” 

“Please, there’s not a lot to know. All you need to do is find whatever’s disrupting the power and fix it. There’s three fuse boxes, one of which I checked for you, one in the front, and one in the back near the loading bay.”

“Can I at least have some help? Where’s Ariel, or Pan?”

“I sent Pan to the roof so he wouldn’t scare off the buyer. And… I don’t know where Ariel is. I just told him he had the day off. He’ll be back by sundown, I’m sure.”

Quatroctus left Dwoll in the back rooms, slipping into his own room before his employee could get a word in. 

Dwoll looked at the tools in hand. With a shuddering sigh, he walked to the front of their building. 

Each footstep sent echoes bouncing around. The foyer was enormous and empty as always. A faint damp smell and scuffs on the floor denoting where shelves once stood greeted him like always. 

The fusebox was set up near the bathrooms. A quick turn of the screwdriver loosened the door of the fusebox. They were probably locked to prevent customers from opening them and vandalizing the store's electronics. Dwoll's knowledge of such things was limited. 

Even Ariel would have had better luck with this, he thought. 

Inside was a mess of switches and, oh dear, mangled wires. 

Maybe I spoke too soon. This looked like the work of some rodent. Not his speciality, but certainly up Dwoll's alley. He bent over the box and scrutinized the torn copper and plastic. 

The bite marks were uneven and appeared to have been savaged fiercely. A rat or squirrel would gnaw or snip it clean off. And Dwoll had yet to encounter an animal insulated against the electrical shock this would give off once chewed into. 

The rest of the fuse box was clean, at least as far as it could have been in the nearly abandoned grocery store. Dwoll bent down perilously far to look for rat droppings. He didn't find them, but did find a conspicuous trail of minute copper from the wires. 

Doors opening and voices broke his concentration. Near the entrance, Quatroctus was leading a woman dressed for business with a clipboard in her hands. 

“As you can see, we've left the main floor empty for now. A few hundred square feet, I believe the precise measurements are listed on the paper you received, right next to a spacious parking lot.”

She was a tough sell. The real estate agent didn't catch a single hook, only noting down everything she saw with detached professionalism. 

They walked in an angle, avoiding Dwoll and the fuse box entirely. 

He desperately wanted to tell Q about the situation and how it had changed. But… he also couldn't interrupt him. This sale was important. 

“We've had the opportunity to renovate the pipes and water system. Mold and rust and all sorts of nasty stuff was in it when we bought the property. Now it's so clean you could use the water to bathe!”

Together Quatroctus and the agent walked to the backrooms. Dwoll tried to catch Q's attention, unsuccessfully. He went through the double doors after them. 

Barely before he opened them the doors opened up. 

“Just a moment ma'am, I need to talk to one of my workers.” 

Q's cordial tone disappeared behind a furrowed brow. “Dwoll, I can't exactly focus on the task at hand with a giant puppy following me around. Why didn't you just speak up?”

“Well, I, er, didn't want to interrupt you…” Despite having nearly a foot on him, Dwoll felt like he was being pressed to the wall.

“Whatever, what is it?”

“The wires look like they were bitten-”

With unprecedented speed Q's hand shot up and covered his mouth. 

“Do. Not. Say. It.”

“Mmrph?”

“Don't say the R-A-T word. If she hears that this deal is cooked, you understand me?”

He looked back at the doors to see if she'd overheard anything. 

“Just deal with it, okay? I'll keep her distracted with the tour and some questions. Fix the problem as quickly and silently as possible. I'm counting on you, Dwoll.” 

Dwoll nodded, mouth still covered. 

Quatroctus went back through the doors, “Now let me show you our pride and joy, the showers.” 

Standing in the dark gloom of the foyer, Dwoll sighed. He set the screwdriver down near the doors and doubled back with the flashlight. 

The copper trail ended at the left hand pair of double doors. He exited the building into the wet, cold March air. The sun had crawled its way into the sky by now, casting faint light through a layer of overcast. 

Their parking lot was both enormous and empty. Dwoll couldn't imagine a time when it was full, even when the grocery store was open. Here and there the stone was broken, potholes sat filled with rainwater, and weeds pushed up through the concrete and asphalt in defiance of human architecture. Opposite the front entrance was a creek with a running path slipping alongside, past that was a field supposedly scheduled for land development. 

His trail ended, but Q said there was another fuse box at the back. Dwoll walked around the abandoned store's perimeter. 

To their south was a fence separating the property and an apartment complex, with a small break of densely packed trees and thorny blueberry bushes. 

Rounding the corner, Dwoll saw the east fence, and past it the complex jungle gym of the electrical substation powering this part of the town. The back of the store was used for shipping. It was also where they parked the company vehicle; an unmarked white van. One which they used sparingly, as only Quatroctus could (legally) drive. 

It was parked in front of the square depression, a loading bay, now filled with scummy rainwater. Dwoll's nose curdled as the scent of stagnant water and algae hit him. 

The outdoor fuse box was protected against the elements by a second, water-proof door. Or it should have been. It was hanging slightly ajar as Dwoll found it. 

He took a few cautious tiptoe steps towards the open box. Around it was a collection of wires, cushion stuffing, and miscellaneous metal bits and bolts. 

Using his height to his advantage, Dwoll opened the box's door while standing on the opposite side. 

It creaked open, and then burst wide as a creature tried to attack whatever was in front of it. The poor beast launched itself at thin air, however. 

As it landed on the ground in a dejected heap, Dwoll saw that it was a gremlin. It was around six inches tall, covered completely in gray fur (or feathers) and wrapped haphazardly in a poncho made out of a blue bandana. Pinkish scales covered the bald hands and feet. A gormless expression of incomprehension colored its small face, complete with pointed ears, bulbous eyes, and a tooth-filled mouth. 

Dwoll triumphantly grinned and stooped down to grab it, only for a second gremlin to leap from the fuse box, tangling itself in his curly hair. 

Sharp pain leapt across his scalp as hair was deftly pulled and knotted together. While he was scrambling to grab it, the first gremlin ran up his leg and joined its fellow. 

“Ach! Get off of me you little-”

The gremlins’ laughter was like a crackle of electricity. Before Dwoll could grab them, they leapt to the fuse box in unison. 

Dwoll's fingers were left partially tangled into his own hair. He turned around, whacking himself in the face with his own arm, to find the gremlins cramming stolen mechanical goods into their ponchos. The interior of the fuse box was a rat's nest. Steel wool and copper wires served as the bedding for the gremlin twins, while Alan wrenches were twisted to make their bed frame. The electrical equipment was completely destroyed. 

Unknotting his hair, Dwoll tried to assuage the gremlins. “Come now you two, this place must not be very comfortable. If you come with me, I can take you to an airport. Plenty of jet fuel to drink and cabin space to rest.”

The gremlins stopped to consider this for a moment. Hope dawned on Dwoll's face, thinking this could be resolved quickly and quietly before Quatroctus knew. It was dashed as they let out harmonic raspberries, and the first bent over to slap his ass in Dwoll's face. 

The taunt phased him little. He lunged forward to grab them and missed. They crawled over his shoulders and dived beneath the parked van behind him. 

Horror flashed through Dwoll hot and fierce. 

“No! Please get out of there!”

Dwoll lowered himself with effort to look under the van. Rough, wet asphalt scratched against his cheeks. He looked every which way for a sign of the gremlins until a loud, sharp snap struck his ears. 

With a shuddering halt the van began to lurch backwards. 

Dwoll scrambled as fast as he could before the tire crushed his head. 

On the other side of the van, the gremlins perched on the chain link fence between the TDG base and the substation. They were laughing at Dwoll like magpies. 

The van didn’t stop, even when Dwoll got out from under it. It was rolling straight toward the flooded bay. He ran to the front of the van and grabbed the bumper. Its movement was slowed, but barely. And now Dwoll’s arms were starting to burn with the exertion of keeping the truck from moving. He gritted his teeth and a thin, whistling sound steamed out. 

Any other plan to stop the van was erased from Dwoll’s mind as he focused wholly on the Herculean task. 

“And here’s the back! The loading bay is still fully operational, we just checked the bay doors last week. It does get a little marshy during the winter, but- JESUS CHRIST.”

Quatroctus and the real estate agent stood at the back door, eyes wide as they found Dwoll and the van and the gremlins. 

The latter disappeared in a flash, leaving behind only echoes of their mocking laughter. 

Q rushed over to Dwoll and shouted in his ears, “STOP! Let the truck go, it’s not worth it!”

Dwoll let go, falling backwards onto the asphalt and sucking in air desperately. The vehicle fell into the six-foot artificial pond with a slow sloop, inundating it completely. 

And then the fuse box chose that time to let out a small curtain of sparks. 

Quatroctus slapped Dwoll on the chest in an attempt to revive him. As he did this, the real estate agent carefully shut her notebook and stuck the pen between the spine. 

She cleared her throat, and fear swung Q's head toward her. 

“Mr. Takahashi, I do thank you for your interest in selling this property and appreciate the courtesy you've shown in allowing this tour. Unfortunately the issues relevant to the property's initial abandonment have yet to be addressed. Considering your company's mission statement included on your website, the fact that it has not been resolved is troubling. That being said, the renovations to the property are not unappreciated. If you would like to continue this business transaction in the future, after some core issues are resolved, we wish you luck in finding another agency to help you sell. Have a good rest of your day.”

With that said she spun around on her heel and walked away to the front where her car was parked. 

Q fell prone on top of Dwoll. 

A minute passed before he hauled himself up. Dwoll had recovered and achily stood up as well, using the side of a wall as a prop. 

His boss was now face-first against the wall of their base looking miserable. 

Something stirred in Dwoll. “Don't worry about it, she said we'd be able to sell it after a few more renovations.”

Quatroctus turned to him with a bleary expression. 

“You don't speak real estate, Dwoll. She as good as told us to fuck off and die and not bother her agency again.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah.”

“Wow.” 

“Why the hell were you grabbing the van?”

“Oh, our problem with the fuse boxes was caused by gremlins. Nasty little things tore them to shreds. I think they came from the airport nearby and accidentally got left behind. They, er, went into the substation next door.” 

Quatroctus listened with an apparent lack of emotion. Then he clapped and faced the substation, “Alright, let's kill em.” 

Dwoll's eyes went wide. “We don't need to do that. If we can catch them, relocation is possible.”

He winced at Q's gaze. The smaller man was in a foul mood and wanted nothing more than to vent his frustration on the creatures which cost him his sale. 

“And why would we do that?” 

“It's, er, more humane?” 

A pause. 

Q sighed. “Fine. Get what you need and meet me here.”

“You want to participate?” 

“Yes.” Quatroctus straightened his tie and brushed some dirt off of his pants. 

“It's only, you've given no indication that, er, field expeditions were something you'd engage in.” 

“Dwoll. Those little fuckers sidled me with who knows how many more months of this shithole. I want some payback.” 

“Okay…” 

He went back into the base and retrieved an old bottle from his room. It hadn't seen any use for decades, but was clean and sturdy enough to work. 

Outside, Q was eyeing up the substation. There was no sign of the gremlins, yet. 

He raised an eyebrow at the bottle in the tall man's hands. “What're you going to do? Drink them?”

“No, no. Imps, gremlins, and goblins can be caught and held in bottles if the catcher is quick enough. We can hold them in here until we're able to release them into a more appropriate habitat.” 

Q seemed skeptical of this but opted to say nothing. 

Together they walked around to the substation's gate, faced the moderately busy avenue. 

Without any hesitation, Q began to climb up the fence with youthful agility. 

Dwoll exclaimed in shock. “Don't you think that's illegal?”

“They came in here first, we're just coming in after them.” His explanation didn't soothe Dwoll's worries, so he added in a snide tone, “Don't be such a wuss. If you're scared of getting caught just hand me the bottle.” 

He was going to put up some resistance, before Q swiped the bottle from his hand. Dwoll quickly gave him the cork as well. 

“Where are they?” 

“Hiding most certainly. Their integument is camouflage for metallic backdrops like this. Look out for movement and flashes of the blue clothes they're wearing.” 

Just as he said that, one of the rascals appeared on a rod above Quatroctus’ head. 

And, in the moment it took Dwoll to cry out “There!” and Q to swipe in its direction with the bottle, it was gone. 

Laughter crackled around the substation. 

Q ground his teeth together as his ears flushed red. 

“Come here you little bastards. I just wanna talk about you, me, and this bottle you're getting shoved up in.” 

A sharp pinch on his ankle caused Q to yelp and jump in surprise. 

The gremlin remained long enough for Q to get a look at him before it whizzed away in a flash, faster than the human eye could follow. 

Dwoll spoke up, “Do you want me to tag in?” 

“No! I've got them right where I want them.” 

In truth, Dwoll was worried for his boss. The battleground was rife with hazards; one errant move could result in electrocution. He wanted to step in and take over, but Quatroctus’ frustration and the gaze of many drivers behind him kept him frozen at the gate. 

Quatroctus leapt to the edge of the fence and looked around wildly. Here and there he could see a flash of blue, just a peek before it disappeared. The many electrical wires and breakers provided too much cover for them to hide behind. 

As he was looking for one, the other slowly sidled up, jumping on the fence like a bird. 

Dwoll's mouth formed a warning, but not before Q swung around, more aware of his surroundings than the German realized. 

The trap was excellently laid. Bottle in hand, Q put too much momentum behind the move. With a hop the gremlin was out of range, and the bottle dashed against a metal support in the fence. Glass rained down, and some cut Quatroctus in the hand. 

He screamed in pain and anger, casting the cork and remaining glass aside. Laughter mocked his pain in discordant harmony from behind him. 

Dwoll ran over to the other side of the fence to help. He could see the gremlins were directly behind Q, sitting on a power line. 

Seeing them himself, Quatroctus screamed, trying to grab the gremlins with his bare hands. 

He did not grab them. Instead, he grabbed a high voltage line, sending a current of 10 amps straight through his bloody hands into the rest of his body. 

A plume of smoke exploded out of his hands as the skin burned. The muscles in his arm clenched, keeping Q rooted to the wire. Dwoll couldn't see his face. 

He forgot all about his worry for getting arrested or looking like a hooligan and leapt over the fence to help the poor man. Meanwhile, the gremlins continued their hideous cacophony a short distance away. 

Dwoll needn't have worried. A sound like a crack of lightning burst in the air. It wasn't more electricity running through Quatroctus, but the man himself. 

As fast as a thunder strike he grabbed the gremlins, one in each fist, having moved so quickly that even they couldn't react in time. 

The grip holding them was as cold and rigid as steel. No burns mutilated the shocked man's skin. In fact, Quatroctus looked fine. 

Perhaps fine isn't an appropriate word. In the overcast gloom of the day, Q stood illuminated as if he had his own personal spotlight shining from on high. 

Away from Dwoll, facing the gremlins, his entire body was obscured by a harsh shadow. All that could be seen through the supernatural black were his eyes, burning with the same heat and intensity of the electricity which would have, should have, killed him. 

Thunder rumbled in Dwoll's ears. Only it wasn't thunder. Once it repeated itself, Dwoll understood it was Q speaking in a foreboding tone: “Get another bottle.” 

It brokered no objection. 

Still shaking from the shock, Dwoll ran back to his room, found another bottle, and dashed outside. 

He held the bottle for Q, who, moving as if his whole body was under intense strain, shoved the gremlins in. 

Despite the volume imbalance, the gremlins were crammed inside as if they lost all their solidity in the process. The bottle looked like it was filled with a metallic gray liquid with two pairs of annoyed, yellow eyes floating within. 

When he put the troublemakers inside the bottle, the unnatural light left Q. Now he merely looked exhausted. The electric current hadn't burnt him, but the same couldn't be said for his clothes. His sleeves were burnt to a crisp, and the soles of his shoes were partially melted. 

Dwoll took Quatroctus by the shoulder and guided him inside, back to the base. 

In one corner of the back rooms, near Quatroctus’ own room, was a couch, which Dwoll deposited Q onto. 

He secured the bottle in one of his sample cabinets, and then wrote a note to remind himself to relocate them as soon as possible. 

Once he was done, he found Q curled up on the couch, half asleep. 

Dwoll considered sitting next to him, but elected to stand. 

“I'm sorry about this. If I'd recognized the signs of the gremlins before, we could've proceeded with the sale.” 

Q coughed and spoke weakly, “Don't. It wasn't your fault. She wouldn't have considered the deal even if we'd plated the whole place in gold. This dump just can't be sold.”

“They did say it was cursed, when we came here initially.”

“Yeah. And the curse has nothing to do with what lived in it.”

They shared a grimace. 

And it could have ended there. Dwoll could have left Quatroctus on the couch and returned to his own room, or gone out looking for Ariel. 

He didn't. 

Dwoll didn't know if it was curiosity or sympathy which made him ask, but he found himself saying something that had been on his mind for a while. 

“Why did you buy this place? I've thought about it and I can't find a single good reason for it.”

Quatroctus had his eyes closed. 

“That, sir, is because you are thinking with an intelligent and rational mind. When I thought of the purchase, I was not.” 

“What?”

“It was a dumb idea. I was thinking like a rich person. Only now I don't have anyone to fall back on when it fails. Just my own savings.”

“I see. So you are rich? Or at least were.”

“Yes. I was born into it. Made some of my own. And what I made is all I have left. When it's gone, it's gone.”

With great pain he sat up, looking like a man many years his elder. 

“This place could be flipped, if I had a few more thousand dollars and a team to squash the rumors about this damn curse. But I don't. The only source of new income is this damn company.”

Dwoll put on a forced smile. “Well, we'll just have to work extra hard to make money with our work.” 

“Whatever. You have the rest of the day off, there's no new jobs in. Probably won't be for a while. I'm going to sleep this off.”

Dwoll hesitated, and chose not to follow up. They left each other in silence, heading opposite directions. 

Beyond the walls the foyer slept in cold, lonely stillness. 

[esgagile]

Discovering the Advantages of Lowering Your Carbon Footprint: Why Every Step Matters

Being a Carbon footprint consultancy in Agile Advisors, an individual, organization, event, or product's total direct and indirect greenhouse gas emissions are measured by their carbon footprint. Methane (CH₄), nitrous oxide (N₂O), and carbon dioxide (CO₂) make up the majority of these emissions, which trap heat in the atmosphere and fuel climate change and global warming. If emissions are reduced, natural catastrophes like hurricanes, floods, and droughts may occur less frequently and with less severity because less energy is trapped in the atmosphere. Maintaining stable temperature patterns contributes to preserving biodiversity and habitats, keeping ecosystems robust and in balance. Utility expenses can be decreased by employing renewable energy sources, such as wind and solar, and by implementing energy-efficient practices.

Agile Advisors provides Carbon footprint consultancy In Dubai, Jobs in sustainable agriculture, renewable energy, and environmental preservation are all part of the growing green economy. Investors seeking environmentally conscious enterprises are frequently drawn to sustainable firms, which might raise company valuations. Pollutants that cause cardiovascular and respiratory disorders are reduced when emissions are reduced. Reduced load on healthcare systems and lower personal medical costs results from fewer pollution-related diseases. Longer life expectancy and generally improved health are correlated with cleaner surroundings. Market swings and geopolitical unrest are less likely to affect renewable energy sources. Local energy generation from wind turbines or solar panels increases community resilience and lessens reliance on foreign fuels.

As a Carbon footprint consultancy In UAE, Investing in renewable energy promotes infrastructural development and technology breakthroughs. Physical fitness is promoted by walking, riding, and taking public transit. Community participation is a common feature of sustainable projects, strengthening social ties and creating a feeling of shared purpose. More livable and attractive surroundings result from protecting natural landscapes and cutting pollution. Adherence to environmental regulations aids in preventing penalties and legal complications. Governments and organizations provide grants, tax incentives, and subsidies for sustainable practices and technology. Companies with a solid reputation for sustainability may stand out from the competition and draw in eco-aware customers.

In our role as Carbon footprint consultancy, Businesses that exhibit environmental stewardship are becoming increasingly popular with consumers. Workers choose companies dedicated to sustainability, improving hiring and retention. By ensuring that resources are available for future generations, sustainable practices help enterprises last a long time. Making more responsible decisions in daily life is facilitated by being aware of the effects of your actions. By setting a good example, people and organizations may motivate others and increase the effect of their work. Participating in sustainability broadens perspectives and creates chances for collaboration by connecting you to global movements and projects. Use energy-efficient appliances, upgrade to LED lights, and insulate your house better. Use green energy sources or put in solar panels.

We as a Carbon footprint consultancy In Dubai, Reduce the usage of single-use plastics and compost organic waste. Take the bus, carpool, ride your bike, or drive an electric or hybrid automobile. Choose items with sustainable materials and little packaging, then reduce, reuse, and recycle. In addition to offering many advantages in many facets of life, lowering your carbon footprint is a potent way to support a sustainable future. The evident and substantial benefits range from reducing climate change and promoting public health to stimulating economic growth and raising living standards. Every action you take to reduce carbon emissions matters, whether you're a community, company, or person. By adopting sustainable behaviors now, we can guarantee a better, wealthier, and more resilient planet for future generations.

[jobsthe24]

Certainly! Here’s an 800-word piece on “Jobs Near Me” tailored for a platform like Jobs The 24:

Discovering Jobs Near Me: Your Guide to Local Employment Opportunities

In today’s fast-paced world, the quest for a fulfilling job can often feel overwhelming. With so many options available, how do you find the right opportunity that not only matches your skills but is also conveniently located? That’s where the concept of “Jobs Near Me” comes into play. Whether you’re looking for part-time work, full-time positions, or even remote opportunities, understanding how to effectively search for jobs in your local area can make a significant difference in your job-hunting experience.

Why Focus on Local Jobs?

Convenience: One of the primary benefits of searching for jobs near you is the convenience of a shorter commute. Whether you’re driving, biking, or using public transportation, having a job close to home can save you time and reduce stress.

Community Connection: Working in your local area allows you to engage with your community, build relationships, and understand local dynamics. This can enhance your job satisfaction and provide networking opportunities.

Support Local Economy: By seeking employment within your community, you contribute to the local economy, helping businesses thrive and creating a more vibrant environment for everyone.

How to Find Jobs Near You

Finding local job opportunities has never been easier, thanks to technological advancements and online job platforms. Here are some effective strategies:

Job Search Engines: Websites like Jobs The 24 offer specialized job listings that allow you to filter by location, job type, and industry. Simply enter “jobs near me” into the search bar, and you’ll be presented with a list of opportunities tailored to your area.

Networking: Sometimes, the best job opportunities come from personal connections. Attend local job fairs, industry meetups, or community events to network with employers and fellow job seekers. Don’t hesitate to let friends, family, and acquaintances know that you’re looking for work; referrals can be powerful.

Social Media: Platforms like LinkedIn, Facebook, and Twitter can be excellent resources for job hunting. Follow local businesses, join community groups, and engage in conversations related to your industry. Many employers post job openings on their social media pages.

Company Websites: If there are specific companies you’re interested in, check their career pages regularly for job openings. Many organizations prefer to post jobs on their websites before advertising elsewhere.

Local Classifieds: Don’t overlook traditional resources like local newspapers and community bulletin boards. Many small businesses still rely on these methods to find employees.

Types of Jobs You Might Find

The term “jobs near me” encompasses a wide range of industries and positions. Here are some common categories you might explore:

Retail and Hospitality: From cashier positions in local stores to roles in restaurants and hotels, the retail and hospitality sectors often have a high demand for employees, especially during peak seasons.

Healthcare: As communities grow, so does the need for healthcare professionals. Opportunities range from administrative roles in clinics to nursing positions in hospitals.

Skilled Trades: If you have expertise in plumbing, electrical work, or construction, local trades can provide steady employment and often come with good pay.

Remote Work: With the rise of remote work, many companies are open to hiring local employees who can work from home. This option can give you the flexibility of remote work while still being connected to your local area.

Internships and Entry-Level Positions: If you’re just starting your career or looking to switch fields, internships and entry-level roles can provide valuable experience and help you build your resume.

Tips for a Successful Job Search

Tailor Your Resume: Customize your resume for each application, highlighting relevant skills and experiences that align with the job description.

Prepare for Interviews: Practice common interview questions and prepare your own questions for the employer. Show enthusiasm for the company and the role.

Follow Up: After applying or interviewing, consider sending a follow-up email to express your continued interest in the position. This can help keep you on the employer’s radar.

Stay Organized: Keep track of the jobs you’ve applied for, upcoming interviews, and networking contacts. Staying organized can help you manage your time and efforts more effectively.

Keep Learning: Consider taking online courses or attending workshops to enhance your skills and increase your marketability.

Conclusion

Searching for “jobs near me” doesn’t have to be a daunting task. With the right strategies, tools, and mindset, you can discover fulfilling employment opportunities in your local area. Whether you’re looking to start your career, change fields, or find a more convenient job, the resources available today make it easier than ever to connect with employers right in your community. Start your job search today with Jobs The 24, and take the next step toward your dream career!

Feel free to adjust any part of this content to better fit your needs or the style of Jobs The 24!

[tariqamro]

Sustainable Growth in the USA: Paving the Way for a Greener Future

As the world faces pressing environmental challenges, the concept of sustainable growth has emerged as a critical focus in the USA. Sustainable growth refers to economic development that meets the needs of the present without compromising the ability of future generations to meet their own needs. Sustainable Growth USA This approach balances economic growth, social equity, and environmental protection, creating a more resilient and prosperous society.

The Importance of Sustainable Growth

Economic Resilience: Sustainable growth fosters long-term economic resilience. By investing in renewable energy, green technologies, and sustainable practices, businesses can reduce their reliance on finite resources, ensuring stability in an ever-changing market.

Environmental Protection: The environmental impact of traditional growth models has been significant, leading to issues like climate change, pollution, and habitat destruction. Sustainable growth emphasizes the importance of preserving natural resources and minimizing environmental harm.

Social Equity: Sustainable growth aims to create a more equitable society. By prioritizing inclusive policies and practices, we can ensure that all communities benefit from economic development, leading to reduced inequality and improved quality of life.

Strategies for Sustainable Growth

To achieve sustainable growth in the USA, several strategies can be implemented:

Investing in Renewable Energy: Transitioning to renewable energy sources like solar, wind, and hydroelectric power is crucial. These investments not only reduce greenhouse gas emissions but also create jobs and stimulate economic growth.

Promoting Sustainable Agriculture: Sustainable farming practices, such as organic farming and regenerative agriculture, can enhance food security while protecting the environment. By supporting local farmers and sustainable food systems, we can ensure a healthy and sustainable food supply.

Encouraging Sustainable Transportation: Developing public transportation systems and promoting electric vehicles can significantly reduce carbon emissions. Investing in infrastructure that supports biking and walking also promotes healthier communities.

Supporting Green Technologies: Innovation in green technologies is essential for sustainable growth. Governments and businesses should collaborate to fund research and development that leads to more efficient and environmentally friendly technologies.

The Role of Businesses

Businesses play a vital role in fostering sustainable growth. Companies can adopt sustainable practices by:

Implementing energy-efficient processes and technologies

Reducing waste through recycling and circular economy initiatives

Sourcing materials responsibly and ethically

Supporting community development and social responsibility initiatives

Conclusion

Sustainable growth is not just a trend; it is a necessary path forward for the USA. By prioritizing economic resilience, environmental protection, and social equity, we can create a sustainable future that benefits all. Sustainable Growth USA As individuals, businesses, and governments work together towards this goal, we can pave the way for a greener, more sustainable economy.

[the-firebird69]

You said to me, all these cars, the cars that can't use and doesn't make any sense. But it makes sense. He's riding a bicycle. It's electric bike. And then he would. be sort of graduating to a motorcycle and a car motorcycle And it's per the David's vehicles and it's per what happened with him. And this. seems to be the year And it is because the continental Congress So I am calm about it and he said. I am probably attracting Mac proper because they want the cars back. I started to get a little irate because I'm not really noticing that. And now I figured out something there more or less the ones running these companies and green lighting or red lighting certain vehicles and they use them a lot and They went after the clans, and they're like the sun, which is what I'm like as an analogy. So now they want. him to have it. And those would be the. sun on Earth And that makes a lot of sense. And the father and then going after him for having taken these cars. And they did it to Trump. So I'm starting to wonder and they're doing it to our my nephews kids. He says if they have if he has them and stuff. and they're screaming they have proof. and they've been doing it too much and now we're going to go down to and investigate and it seems to be very interesting and we heard the story about DJA from him and it's entirely true. He was trying to get down there and he blamed Trump. and they're starting to talk about it again and he said Try and get down, and they're going to and my god, this is an amazing thing. And he figured a lot of it out. And he says, I can't use, he cannot use my cars. And it's gonna be. stupid If he uses it, he's gonna be going like Grandma down the road. 120 miles an hour. Smiling and laughing isn't. really care to go faster and doesn't wanna get hurt. But still gonna be odd But a lot of people who have a lot of money like Mac Daddy don't go that fast If they have to, they have in. That's the point. So that's one thing that's happening. and it's going to continue to happen. They say in a saying it to me directly and I said, what did I ever do? I'm doing your job and stuff going. after Trump and they say that's what you're supposed to do. But we didn't see any of it happening. Now we see you doing it. So I get all this other stuff. And he says it should be kind of apparent that. they. want you in for some reason. And ohh. I'm like the alpha and I'm an analogy because I. what I am OK. so they gonna try and do it and then come back and I go to New Zealand. and it looks like I'm on some pretty hefty ships. That's why I see And he says, yeah. And these guys go in and they come out. and it's very strange. and it is going to continue like that. with other people he says. But that's amazing. But still all these cars he says I can't use hardly any of them. Maybe the Ford cause people can't tell what's what's in it and it was. my stupid idea and we do notice that too So there's a few vehicles you can use but the rest of them are mine and I use them and I. use them well and they want them So it starts off with this. can am and it moves forwards and says a big chunk of it is the can am Rev Trike was making up for the low production levels of schemobiles and they're not powerful enough and these things have a lot of power and they can. move out and you can put armament on light stuff but nowadays it's pretty light and the ammo is lighter. So I understand what you're saying and it's for fly vehicles too And there'll be a lot of them. And that's what they're up to And they're trying to take those And that would be the Mac proper. And that's what they're saying. And they're putting the message out, and they're gonna take it from the general populace to defeat the foreigners. And that makes more sense to me. But it is part of it, but it is what they're calling us as a sideshow. So I get this OK. and I look like a foreigner all the time now.

the rock

and we do this print

camilla

and good boy

Olympus