#interactions: niccolo rossi.

[next-autopsy]

A/N: Well, hi there! I hope you’re enjoying this story as much as I am! This chapter is semi Francesca focused, hope y’all like her! Quite a bit of backstory in this one, we uncover a family mystery and I’m so sorry for it.

Lmk what you think x

Based on the actors portrayal/hbo show and written with no disrespect to the real life veterans. Also all images found on Pinterest.

TW: Smoking, swearing, general awkwardness, mentions of death/loss,

Tags: @malarkgirlypop , @panzershrike-pretz (let me know if you want to be added!)

Made of Glass

Chapter thirteen: Baby Birdie

Smoking had always been something Francesca took solace in, the earthy smell reminded her of the men in her family. Her father had smoked since before she was born, she always pictured him with a thin cylinder of fine tobacco in his hand. 

When her two older brothers had hit their early teens, they both took up the habit. At first, they had hidden it from the paternal figure but quickly came to realise he didn't care so they stopped sneaking out to puff cigarettes in the dark alleys of their neighbourhood. 

Francesca often thought of her brothers and how they were fairing. Both had enlisted in the US marine corps the second Europe had declared war within itself in 1939. Her oldest brother, Giovanni, was 23 and the younger, Niccolo, was 22, that was nearly three years ago, and she hadn't seen them since. She would receive one, maybe two letters from each of them yearly and that's how she knew they were both still alive. 

She turned her thoughts else where, inhaling and exhaling gray clouds. Rossi was perched on the steps of the barracks she lived in, enjoying the quiet dark. 

To her dismay, the quiet dark was disturbed by the rhythmic thump of Army issued boots and the dirt path that lead in her direction. 

Francesca saw the shadowy outline of two figures, two figures that were yet to notice her. 

As they came closer, she recognised Birdie but not the man she was with. The pair seemed uncomfortable, the girl fidgeted with her hands and the guy was looking every which way except towards the woman. 

Francesca cringed for them. Their weird energy reached out and touched her and she wanted to run off or hide her face in her hands. 

She didn’t. She sat and watched. 

It was like witnessing a car wreck, Rossi could not pull her attention away, morbidly curious to see what happens next. 

Nobody said anything, no words exchanged but the couple had stopped walking and both looked like they wanted to hang themselves. 

Rossi kept silent, hoping if she said nothing they wouldn't notice her and she could ignore this moment of her life. 

“Uh...” And, “Well...” Were spoken at the same time by each of the on edge….friends? Were they friends? Francesca couldn't tell. 

“Thanks... for ya know....” It was Birdie who bucked up and broke the bizarre tension that had formed in the strained hush between them. 

“Yeah...” The man turned to walk away, figuring he could leave the strange encounter and act like this interaction did not occur. 

“Liebgott?” The southern woman called out to him, pausing his steps, he looked over his shoulder at her. 

“Yeah?” There was a beat of nothing. Birdie fidgeted once again. To Francesca it looked like she was about to tell him something important, begin a speech or break some bad news to the poor fellow attempting to run away. But Birdie didn’t, she only uttered one word and it sounded forced. 

“Night.” It's not what she wanted to say but in all honesty she didn't know what she wanted to say. It was like she spoke his name but didn't remember why. 

“Night, Coldwell.” Then he was gone, Birdie couldn't help but feel something. Disappointment? Unfulfillment? She was conflicted and she didn't really know why. 

“That was weird.” 

“Jesus Christ!” Bernadette's hand flew to her chest and she whipped her head around faster than the speed of light. Though she calmed when she noticed Francesca sitting in the dark, huffing on the tail end of a cigarette. 

“Frankie! Announce yourself dammit! You scared me half to death....” Birdie let out a sigh, “How long have you been there?” 

“Long enough.” She answered, “Wanna smoke?” 

“God yes.” The younger girl accepted her offer and sat down next to her roommate, taking the tobacco stick between her fingers. Francesca took out a second one and placed it between her lips, then lit both. 

They sat side by side, huffing and puffing until there was nothing left to consume. 

“Frankie, huh? I earned myself a Birdie nickname.” The Italian woman commented lightheartedly. 

“Sure did.” A smile grew on her face, the nickname had slipped out accidentally but she was glad for it. This moment felt like a good one, one she'd look back on as the beginning of their blossoming friendship. 

“At least it's not a disease.” She had a smirk on her lips, word of Birdie’s STD riddled friend had gotten around.

“Was that… a joke? Did you just make a joke, Frankie?” A giggle escaped her lips. 

“Yeah, cherish it. I won't be making another.” The black haired woman spoke in a stoic tone but a smile crept onto her face and she bumped shoulders with Birdie, who laughed at the action. Francesca felt herself smiling wider at Birdies enjoyment, the noise was filled with a musical merriment and it was contagious. 

The women sat outside on the wooden steps and shared another cigarette, they passed this one between them. Bernadette began telling Frankie the childhood story of how she acquired her nickname: Birdie. As a toddler learning to speak, the full ‘Bernadette’ was a incoherent babble so one of her older sisters had shortened it for her to Bernie. But of course the two year old's pronunciation was still being perfected and it changed to Birdie and stuck. 

The image of a baby Bernadette, wobbling around on uncertain feet calling herself Birdie sparked a chuckle from the Italian girl. It prompted her to share her own tale from her youth and the two went back and forth, while one puffed on the smoke the other would share a memory. 

This is how Bernadette learnt of Frankie’s family. Her father worked as a mechanic as did she and her two older brothers before they all enlisted. She was surprised to hear they were both currently deployed in the Pacific theatre of war. 

Birdie shared the information of her own brother, the eldest: Victor, affectionately called Junior as Victor was also their fathers name. He signed up for the US Navy in 1939 and after training was stationed in Hawaii. He was aboard the SS Arizona when it was targeted by the Japanese. He died on December 7th, 1941 in Pearl Harbour. 

He was the reason Birdie and James had signed up. Originally, the southerner was going to put her name down as a nurse but she’d heard of the special program for women and how it would send her to the front lines and she was in, no questions. 

Francesca sympathised, she too had lost a family member. The New York Italian informed her new friend of her seldom talked about parent. Her mother had an incurable sickness and passed away when Frankie was young. Young enough that she barely remembered the woman, she could vaguely picture a face, a warm smile, an encompassing hug, a gentle voice or sweet smell but not much else. 

Most of what she knew of her mother was learnt from pictures or stories her brothers told her. She had asked her father about the woman once and he did not react well. He yelled and hissed at her and stomped off to his room to drink away the memories of his late wife. Frankie never asked him about her mother again.

Bernadette had hugged her after hearing the tragedy. She was incredibly close with her family, especially her mother and couldn’t imagine not having her in her life. Francesca didn’t mind much, she didn’t know anything different, but she accepted the hug anyway, Birdie was warm and the comfort she provided, was needed.

The pack of smokes had emptied over the course of time the two spent bonding, which was their signal to head inside and sleep. 

Which is exactly what they did, sharing a look from across the room as a silent ‘goodnight’. 

—————————— 

As the weeks phased into months Toccoa began to feel more like home. Bernadette had found her footing and slipped into a schedule she looked forward to. Lectures were a welcome break from vigorous PT and the friends she had made were becoming closer and closer everyday. 

Liebgott had gone back to dropping bad natured comments aimed at her the morning after whatever that night was. Although his tone had changed and his words seemed more like attempted jokes. She noticed his lips curling ever so slightly at the edges when he muttered the banter and his genuine distain for her felt fake and put on as if he wanted everyone (including himself) to believe he didn’t like her. She replied with her typical witty comebacks but hers too felt forced like a show for anyone listening. The shift unsettled her to her core but she didn’t really know why, she should be happy Liebgott was finally coming round and didn’t wish her dead… so why wasn’t she? 

On the third day after the entire Harriet debacle, all four men were apprehended. 

Nixon had told Birdie that someone outside of the attackers had confirmed the initial confession, which gave them absolute proof. The three men were dishonourably discharged and sent home in disgrace, while the fourth man was transferred out of the 506 and left Camp Toccoa effective immediately. 

Birdie was pleased to hear the news but couldn’t for the life of her figure out who had told Sink, maybe the men had blabbed to their friends and one of them felt bad? Who knows, it was anyone's guess. 

Birdie didn’t dwell on it too much, instead she had wrote to Harriet and explained the whole story. The ex-How company woman was still recovering weeks later with a broken pelvis and stitches in the back of her head but she had been allowed to move to her home state. She thanked Birdie for her part in finding and punishing her violators and had truly meant it, learning of the men being held accountable had eased her mind. It eased Bernadette’s guilt some but she figured the feeling she couldn’t get rid of would stay with her for the rest of her life, always wondering what might have been.

The two promised to keep in contact and Harriet even invited Birdie to come visit her in San Diego once the war was over. Of course, Bernadette had accepted and found herself picturing California, it became her fantasy, one she would carry with her throughout the years ahead of her. 

The entire regiment was being moved to Fort Benning, marching 137 miles to break some record the Japanese troops held. It took three and a bit days of marching plus a train ride but they reached their destination. 

Fort Benning was set up similarly to Camp Toccoa yet they were so different, it gave Birdie an eerie feeling of familiarity. 

A/N: That was a tad depressing, sorry folks! But Birdie and Frankie bonded over dead loved ones so yay!

Also, finally they’re in Fort Benning, goodbye Toccoa!

~ next-autopsy ~

Chapter fourteen

[ercelhande]

@comingdowns​ sent 💬 !

“ don’t be scared — i just need you to come with me for a minute. ”

[marithadotws]

Online proton therapy monitoring: clinical test of a Silicon-photodetector-based in-beam PET

See on Scoop.it - iMaritha

Veronica Ferrero, Elisa Fiorina, Matteo Morrocchi, Francesco Pennazio, Guido Baroni, Giuseppe Battistoni, Nicola Belcari, Niccolo’ Camarlinghi, Mario Ciocca, Alberto Del Guerra, Marco Donetti, Simona Giordanengo, Giuseppe Giraudo, Vincenzo Patera, Cristiana Peroni, Angelo Rivetti, Manuel Dionisio da Rocha Rolo, Sandro Rossi, Valeria Rosso, Giancarlo Sportelli, Sara Tampellini, Francesca Valvo, Richard Wheadon, Piergiorgio Cerello, Maria Giuseppina Bisogni

Scientific Reportsvolume 8, Article number: 4100 (2018)

DOI:10.1038/s41598-018-22325-6 Particle therapy exploits the energy deposition pattern of hadron beams. The narrow Bragg Peak at the end of range is a major advantage but range uncertainties can cause severe damage and require online verification to maximise the effectiveness in clinics. In-beam Positron Emission Tomography (PET) is a non-invasive, promising in-vivo technique, which consists in the measurement of the β+ activity induced by beam-tissue interactions during treatment, and presents the highest correlation of the measured activity distribution with the deposited dose, since it is not much influenced by biological washout. Here we report the first clinical results obtained with a state-of-the-art in-beam PET scanner, with on-the-fly reconstruction of the activity distribution during irradiation. An automated time-resolved quantitative analysis was tested on a lacrimal gland carcinoma case, monitored during two consecutive treatment sessions. The 3D activity map was reconstructed every 10 s, with an average delay between beam delivery and image availability of about 6 s. The correlation coefficient of 3D activity maps for the two sessions (above 0.9 after 120 s) and the range agreement (within 1 mm) prove the suitability of in-beam PET for online range verification during treatment, a crucial step towards adaptive strategies in particle therapy.

[ercelhande]

@seremity​ sent ? for a random sentence starter!

“ put on some clothes. ”