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coeurdalene · 1 year ago

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looking for some light

masterlist | ao3

summary: he tells raleigh, “i want to come back from this mission, ‘cause i quite like my life.” he means, there’s still so much i want to do, so much i have to do. (aka chuck wants to make it through this goddamn war so he can finally live a normal life, even if he doesn’t really know what that means.)

pairing: chuck hansen x reader

warning(s): character death (sorry), swearing, mentions of canon-typical violence.

word count: 3.86k

a/n: i meant to have this finished by the ten year anniversary of the movie but uh… anyways, here it is now! this is my love letter to chuck hansen and also a projection of my want for a beach house.

The universe gifts Chuck an unwanted Christmas present in the form of a memorandum. He swears under his breath when you trudge into the Mission Control Center that morning with a dejected frown on your face and shove the crisp paper into his hands. His eyes fall on the letterhead, embossed with the familiar spread-winged eagle, and he already knows what it contains. He’d been expecting it for months. He resists the urge to scream, to crumple the paper into a ball and hurl it at the trash bin with every ounce of remaining strength in his body. He doesn’t envy you when you announce the bad news to everyone else, fulfilling your final duty as Sydney’s Chief LOCCENT Officer.

Days later, not even twenty-four hours after the Shatterdome decommissioning and right at the beginning of the new year, the universe offers him—and the rest of Sydney—another unwanted gift.

Mutavore is an ugly thing. Nearly ninety meters tall and weighing over two thousand tons, it’s hunched over as if struggling to support its own weight, blade-like plates protruding from its head and back.

“I don’t care how many eyes it has,” he says after you read out its classification and measurements, “I’m gonna kick its ass.”

(Six. It has six eyes. Just because he doesn’t care doesn’t mean he won’t pay attention.)

The category four Kaiju plows through the coastal wall like a knife cutting through warm butter and tramps into Sydney Harbour, stopping only to raise its head and let out a guttural screech, as if barging through a metal barrier hadn't been enough to announce its presence. He wonders how many millions of dollars have now been reduced to rubble at the bottom of the bay and how many weeks were spent welding together beams that took only a few seconds to destroy.

Then, its beady eyes—all six of them—focus on Striker Eureka and her brass knuckles glinting in the sun. It screeches again before charging headfirst into Striker’s swinging fist.

Mutavore dies as quickly as it breached the wall, lying motionless in the bay, blood-soaked missiles lodged in its chest and Kaiju blue staining the water.

“That’s Striker Eureka’s tenth kill to date. It’s a new record,” he boasts to the reporter in the aftermath. He ignores the questions about the decommissioning and brushes off the look his father gives him. Don’t get too cocky, he looks like he wants to say.

When they return to the Shatterdome, the J-Tech crew cleans Striker, polishing her knuckles and wiping Kaiju remains from the Conn-Pod. Chuck takes a long hot shower. Then, the move to Hong Kong begins.

The Anchorage Shatterdome—the cold and stalwart Icebox—had been the first to close. He remembers how you had stared blankly at the official PPDC statement for hours while he watched the newscaster on the television read it out loud. The Marshal had been on the broadcast, too, brought on for further questioning. When the anchor asked about the future of the Jaeger Program, he had assured her that, as long as the Kaiju kept coming, the Jaegers would keep fighting. Chuck had laughed dryly at that. The dwindling funding from the U.N. would say otherwise and whispers of better opportunities at the wall hung in the air, getting louder with every passing day.

The closure of the Icebox set off a string of shutdowns: Lima and Tokyo later that month, Panama City in November, Vladivostok and Los Angeles a few weeks after. The clock was ticking and it was only a matter of time before that damned memorandum arrived in Sydney, his fate dictated by its contents.

His beloved Sydney Shatterdome closes at the turn of the year, leaving behind its only remaining sibling in Hong Kong. What had once been a robust network of PPDC hubs was now reduced to one.

And the clock continues to tick.

“We don’t need a stupid wall,” Chuck declares on the flight to Hong Kong, glaring at the news broadcast replaying footage of the Sydney attack. “We need better pilots.”

He’d expressed the same sentiment to the reporter who interviewed him after Mutavore’s attack, too, blaming the fall of the Jaeger program on the mediocrity of those involved. He isn’t sure if it’s that simple—you had explained something to him about politics and funding and morale, government nonsense he didn’t understand—but he sure as hell knows that the Jaegers would be winning if pilots stopped letting the Kaiju kick their asses.

“Have some respect,” his father chides. “Every pilot has fought tooth and nail to protect the people they love.”

And perhaps that’s the truth—it sure is for him. His days consist of sore muscles from training, never getting enough sleep, and always anticipating another fight. He does it for his father, who has been a soldier for as long as he can remember. For his mother, whose untimely death lingers in the back of his mind every time he sets his eyes on a Kaiju. For you, who frequently pulls all-nighters and agonizes over details to make sure the Shatterdome stays running. And for Max, of course. (Silly little dog probably has no idea what a Kaiju is.)

So, yeah, perhaps it is the truth. But it doesn’t change the fact that they only have eight months left of funding, or that the U.N. thinks a wall will fare better than a Jaeger.

“We won’t be getting more pilots. All we can do is work with what we still have,” you chime in, pulling Chuck out of his thoughts. “But, on the bright side, our remaining pilots are some of the best in program history.”

“Including me?” he smirks. You laugh, cheerful and bright, punching his arm lightly. Max shifts in his sleep at the sudden noise. His father gives him that look again. Don’t get too cocky.

He spends the rest of the flight listening to you read briefing notes on “Operation Pitfall,” the Marshal’s shiny new plan to end the war by detonating a bomb at the throat of the Breach. Somehow, the PPDC had procured a thermonuclear warhead from the Russians, entrusting Striker Eureka to carry it while the remaining Jaegers played defense.

Chuck is cynical about this plan. They had already tried (and failed) to drop things into the Breach. A bomb would only bounce back at them and kill anything in range.

He quips sarcastically if the Marshal had thought of that. You respond only by flipping through the file again for an explanation. He knows you won’t find one.

As he steps off the plane and onto the landing pad, he’s met with a grinning Tendo Choi shouting over the patter of heavy rain, “Welcome to Hong Kong!”

The man, wearing a grey suit jacket too wide around the shoulders shakes their hands in greeting before ushering them out of the rain and into the Shatterdome. Chuck sidesteps some J-Techs as he enters, surveying his surroundings.

He had been much younger the last time he visited Hong Kong and much less invested in all the inner workings of the PPDC. He remembers mechanics and pilots shouting and running about, dirt and scuff marks on the floor, and his father reminding him to keep a tight grip on Max’s leash. It had felt unfamiliar then, but he realizes now that it isn’t too different from Sydney. Same high ceiling, same metal catwalks, and almost the same arsenal of Jaegers towering over him. It’s a little older, a little grittier, and a little more worn down, but no longer foreign.

He spots Cherno Alpha in one of the bays, its stalwart form hunkering and heavy. The Kaidanovskys stand at its feet, engaged in conversation. Crimson Typhoon stands opposite it, brilliant red and regal. J-Techs gather around her three arms, inspecting and cleaning the rotating saw blades.

“Striker arrived a few minutes before you did,” Tendo gestures to the shiny silver Jaeger standing in the far bay, metal glinting under the bright lights of the hangar. “The crew is getting her settled in.”

Then, Chuck’s eyes fall on the fourth and final Jaeger. That last he had heard of Gipsy Danger was that she had been decommissioned, damaged beyond repair from a mission gone wrong. But here she stands—untarnished metallic blue, left arm intact, and definitely not lying forgotten in Oblivion Bay.

“What’s that old rustbucket doing here?” he leers, very aware that there isn’t a single speck of rust on her.

“She looks brand new,” you remark.

“She is, sorta,” Tendo replies, “We’ve been fixing her up: a new fluid synapse system, new engine blocks, and a new hull. She’ll be holding the defensive perimeter for you in Operation Pitfall, along with Cherno Alpha and Crimson Typhoon.”

“Does she have pilots?” you inquire.

“Not yet,” Tendo grins. “But she will.”

Chuck hopes that these pilots won’t be incompetent idiots, whoever they might be.

The peaceful moments are rare, but cherished and so welcomed. In these instances, he lets his guard down, breathes deeply, and allows himself to think of anything other than training or fighting.

One of his favorites is somewhere in between Striker’s fourth and fifth kills: a lazy afternoon in bed with your back against the headboard and his head in your lap, sunlight streaming in through the windows with your fingers carding lightly through his hair.

“After this war is over,” he declares, imagining a life without the chaos and destruction that comes with being a Jaeger pilot, “we’ll buy a nice house in the suburbs where we’ll live blissfully for the rest of our lives.”

“The suburbs are nice,” you contend, “but how about a beach house on the Gold Coast? Or Port Douglas?”

He chuckles at that, picturing what living by the ocean without the fear of a Kaiju attack would be like. He would spend his mornings engulfed in the soothing murmur of the sea, gazing out at the unbroken horizon. His afternoons basking in the warmth of the sun, feet buried in the soft sand. His evenings surrounded by music and your melodious laughter, trying not to step on your toes while you lead him through a dance in your living room.

Quiet, he thinks. Serene. The only unrest would be the waves at high tide or the gulls swooping down to steal his food.

“Wherever you want, as long as it’s you and me. And Max. Right, bud?” he grins at the bulldog lying at the foot of the bed. Max lets out a little grunt. Chuck takes that as a sign of agreement.

“Sounds lovely,” you reply, your hand moving to rest against his cheek. He turns his head to kiss your palm, heart soaring at the way you smile softly down at him.

All Chuck knows about Raleigh Becket is that he quit the Jaeger Program. That information alone is enough for him to dislike the guy. He doesn’t trust some washed-up pilot to run defense for him while he carries a 2400-pound bomb on the back of his Jaeger. Doesn’t care that his father fought alongside the guy in Manila or that he single-handedly piloted his Jaeger back to shore. Doesn’t bother to hold back a grimace when Raleigh tells him that he’d been working on the wall for the past five years.

“If you slow me down, I'm gonna drop you like a sack of Kaiju shit,” he hisses at him in the mess hall. He ignores the way his father watches him with disapproval as he stalks away.

His bad mood turns worse when Mako Mori is named Raleigh’s copilot.

He has known Mako for years. They had grown up in Shatterdomes together, met a few times when the Marshal had brought her to Sydney, and briefly bonded over their love of dogs. He’s close enough to her to know that she can fight well and that she has one of the best simulator scores he’s ever seen. (Better than his, although he’d never admit that.) But, she has no experience in a Jaeger and no understanding of what a drift is actually like, which, in his eyes, makes her no better than Raleigh. He isn’t surprised when they’re both out of alignment during their test run, your concerned tone alerting the rest of LOCCENT of the deviation, or when Mako begins chasing the RABIT, raising apprehensive murmurs from the crowd of onlookers. Or when it ends in Tendo pulling the plug on Gipsy’s power.

“Worse mistakes have happened,” Tendo sighs as Gipsy’s plasma cannon goes offline. Chuck scowls. There is no space for even a single mistake in the plan to attack the Breach, especially amateur ones like chasing RABITs. He knows that the Marshal understands this, too.

Later, as he paces in the Marshal’s office, still brimming with anger from Raleigh and Mako’s failure of a test run, he snaps, “He's a has-been. She’s a rookie. I don’t want them protecting my bomb run. sir.”

His father stands across the room, arms crossed and mouth set tightly in a frown. In the corner, you and Tendo are huddled over a tablet, discussing the drift results in hushed voices. The Marshal warns him to watch his tone. Chuck rolls his eyes in response and thinks to himself, He knows I’m right.

He finds Raleigh and Mako standing silently in the hall outside after his father kicks him out of the room. He rounds on the former, seething and jabbing an accusatory finger into his chest, “I want to come back from this mission, ‘cause I quite like my life.”

He turns to Mako, sneering and spitting out some distasteful things, ignoring the feeling that he’ll regret it later.

When Raleigh’s fist makes contact with his jaw, Chuck sees red.

On bad nights, he wakes up in a cold sweat, plagued by nightmares of being painfully ripped to shreds by sharp claws and teeth. Some nights he wakes up angry, frustrated with himself after overanalyzing his fights. Other nights, he relives the moment when he found out about his mother’s death, shaking with body-wracking sobs and shuddering with each intake of breath. But you hold him through it, your soothing hands on his back and comforting words in his ear. He focuses on your voice, steady and calm, and syncs his breathing with yours.

“You’re okay,” you murmur. “They’re just nightmares. You’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” he repeats.

On bad nights, you confess your fear that the war will never end, or that you’ll burn out before it does. Some nights, you feel that you’re not doing enough, that you need to get back to work even though it’s past midnight. Other nights, you worry that you’ll spend your entire life fighting, that you’ll never be able to rest. But he holds you through it, his calloused fingers on your cheeks wiping away your tears. You focus on his touch, firm and resolute, and rest your hands on top of his.

“It’s okay,” you contend, voice shaky but certain. “I have you. This is enough.”

“This is enough,” he repeats.

Yet, he can’t help but want more. He wants the beach house instead of the cold metal walls of the Shatterdome. Wants to wake up to the sun, your smile, and Max’s whining for food instead of doomsday alarms and Kaiju attacks. Wants you to be able to sleep in for once. Wants to spend his days sunbathing and learning to surf instead of training in combat drills and preparing for another attack. Wants to give you some peace, and to find some of his own.

He tells Raleigh, “I want to come back from this mission, ‘cause I quite like my life.”

He means, There’s still so much I want to do, so much I have to do.

Chuck has only felt true fear a few times in his life. Standing on top of his disabled Jaeger with only a flare gun in his hands is one of them. In the moment, he tells himself that he isn’t afraid, that a double event isn’t any different from any other Kaiju attack, and that Striker will come back online in just a second. The adrenaline coursing through his veins overpowers the feeling of impending doom anyway. But, later, as he reflects on the feeling of relief that had washed over when Gipsy’s fog lights enveloped him, he admits that he had been scared shitless. And, he admits (only to himself) that he’s thankful for Raleigh and Mako, even if they’re has-beens or rookies.

He holds you closer that night and knows that you’ve already picked up on all the details of his uneasy expression. Still, he musters up the strength to confess aloud, “I thought we were gonna die.”

You’re silent, responding only by rubbing your hand across his back and hugging him a little tighter. The heavy weight of his lingering fear sits in his chest as he continues, “Dad had injured his arm, our comms were out, Cherno and Crimson were gone, and there was a fucking Kaiju ready to swallow us whole. Shooting that flare at it made it even more pissed off.”

“Not your best idea,” you remark playfully. “You’d think all that training to prepare you for situations like this would help you keep calm and think of something rational to do.”

“It was Dad’s idea, not mine,” he shrugs.

“Well, I’m glad the flare managed to keep it occupied long enough for Gipsy to get there,” you reply, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “And I’m glad you’re not dead.”

“Me, too,” he sighs, the weight in his chest lightening slightly.

When he drifts off to sleep, he dreams of the war ending and a house overlooking the shore.

If, a year ago, you had told Chuck that he would be piloting a Jaeger with the Marshal Stacker Pentecost, he would have laughed in your face and asked why the Marshal wasn’t off doing better things (like convincing world leaders to keep funding the Jaeger Program or figuring out ways to increase pilot recruitment). And, if you had told him that he would hear the phrase “there’s a third signature emerging from the Breach,” he would have rolled his eyes and declared the situation impossible. (“I’d still kick its ass, though,” he would have probably said.)

Yet, here he is, strapped into Striker with the Marshal as his copilot, only three hundred meters from the Breach, watching a category five Kaiju materialize in front of him. He feels his stomach drop as he lays eyes on Slattern’s angular head and the sharp spike protruding from its chest. When it roars, the water around them ripples, and the ground beneath shakes. He barely has any time to think before the massive beast rears its head and charges, swinging its heavy leathery tail directly at them.

The hit knocks Striker off her feet and sends her crashing into a nearby hydrothermal vent. He winces and swears, body aching and head beginning to throb as streams of water push and jostle the Jaeger. Slattern prepares to charge again just as Striker regains her footing and he easily falls into a fighting stance along with the Marshal, fists clenched and ready to strike. This time, when it attacks, they’re ready—dealing out swift punches that send the Kaiju reeling.

He isn’t sure how much of it is the Marshal and how much of it is himself, but the exhilaration that rushes through him as one of Striker’s sting blades slices across Slattern’s throat reinvigorates him. The other blade cuts into its arms, blue blood spilling from deep gashes. It screeches, and he expects it to rush at them again, but it swims away, blood trailing eerily in the water.

He takes the moment of respite to breathe, and to survey the damage. The harsh red light of the many, many warning messages flashes across his vision. He fiddles with some controls, watches as the Marshal does the same, and sighs heavily when neither of their attempts fixes anything. He resigns himself to hoping that Striker can hold on a little longer. She had gotten him this far, surely she could see him through to the end of this war—and to the beginning of his life at peace.

But–

“The attack jammed the bomb release,” he notices. “We’ll have to manually override–”

A yell from LOCCENT cuts him off. Chuck’s stomach drops even further when he hears someone say, “Striker, you have two Kaiju converging on you fast!”

He curses loudly and immediately knows, There’s no time for a manual override.

The Marshal is on the intercom before Chuck can even begin to formulate a plan, shouting to Raleigh and Mako.

“You know exactly what you have to do,” he declares. “Gipsy is nuclear, take her to the Breach.”

“What can we do, sir?” Chuck asks, bracing for the hit.

“We can clear a path,” the Marshal answers firmly, a slight smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, “for the lady.”

Even without the drift connecting their thoughts, Chuck understands.

“Well, my father always said, ‘If you have a shot, you take it,’” he remarks, knowing that, on the other end, his father is listening with pride. Chuck can admit that he was an arrogant dickhead with no respect for any of the pilots around him and that he never bothered to hide his resentment for his old man, never gave him a reason to like the man his son had become. Yet, he knows—and has always known—that his father is proud of him. (He is proud of his father, too, for what it’s worth.)

In the final moments, his thoughts drift to you: swathed in blankets and gathered in his arms on cold winter nights, perched on the seat of a stationary bike and reading reports while keeping him company in the gym, wrapped in his brown leather jacket with Max’s leash in your hand while accompanying him for walks around the Shatterdome. He recalls your bright laughter when he’d crack stupid jokes, your serious voice you’d use only over the intercom, and the mischievous glint in your eyes when you’d pretend you hadn’t given Max extra treats.

“I love you,” he had said before entering the Conn-Pod, so quietly that only you could hear him, holding you tightly and kissing away your concerned frown. The warmth of your hands against his cheeks had lingered as he had stepped away.

“I love you,” he says now, loud enough for you to hear him over all the noise, swallowing the lump in his throat and blinking away the tears threatening to spill from the corners of his eyes. “I’m sorry we’ll never get that beach house.”

“But, I had you,” he says. “It was enough.”

When the bomb detonates, he’s surrounded by blinding light and a deafening boom. And, finally, peace.

In his dreams, he can’t tell where he is, only that Max is sitting at his feet, his father is somewhere in the distance, and you’re next to him with your hand in his, fingers intertwined.

#pacrim #pacific rim #chuck hansen #chuck hansen x reader #chuck hansen x you #chuck hansen imagine #my writing

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shootybangbang · 11 months ago

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The Nature of Hounds [Part 1/?]

[Ao3 link]

[Pairing]: Arthur Morgan/Reader

[Rating]: Mature

Tinkering around with low honor Arthur Morgan. Unedited, feel free to point out errors and give criticism.

------

When you shake the pocket watch, it rattles with the jingle of loose parts. You frown and set it back down on the table. “This is broken. Best I can do is three dollars.”

“Get outta here with that shit.” Arthur taps the metal casing. “This is real gold. You can do at least ten.”

You weigh the watch against your palm.

“Well?”

“Gold plated.”

“You’re kiddin’ me.”

“You know I don’t kid when there’s money on the line.”

“Lowest I’ll go on this is nine.”

“Four.”

He gives you a look.

“You think that yokel over in Emerald Ranch’ll give you a better deal?” you ask.

Seamus would buy this fucking watch for no less than fifteen fucking dollars. He’d give the thing a once over, offer a timid “I can give you five”, then buckle at a glare and go triple. And yet here he is. Following the whim of his cock and his own misplaced affections, like a bull with a lead strung through its nose.

“I’ll tell you what. Mr Kuang downstairs used to be a watchmaker. This thing doesn’t sound that busted, and he owes me a favor anyhow. I’ll do you four fifty.”

He raises his eyes up to high heaven and sighs. “Fine.”

“So adding up the rings, the pendant, the cameo, and the, uh… the teeth… I’ve got you totalling seventeen.” You slide a neatly penciled memorandum across the table. “Check my sums if you don’t believe me.”

“I ain’t botherin’ with that.”

“You’re the only one who doesn’t.” You sweep the little pile of stolen goods into a drawer. “Is it because you’re stupid or you’re sweet, I wonder?”

“Prob’ly the first.” He dips his head down to steal a kiss, but you press a stern palm against his shoulder and hold him at arm’s length.

“Not when I’m behind the counter.”

“Take care of this shit later.”

“Down.”

“C’mon—”

“I said down.”

So he steps back with his heart sunk one notch lower. Posts himself near the front door, arms crossed, hat brim tipped low, cleaning the dirt beneath his fingernails with a pocket knife as the rectangle of light spilled from the window begins to tick across the floorboards in a dimming dial. He presides over the thin trickle of customers and peddlers alike with a baleful eye, and it’s not until the bell tower in the square tolls five and you swing open the side gate in a flurry of swirling skirts that he can pull you in by the waist and sink into the frantic kiss that you press him with.

Locked door, shuttered windows. Hurriedly, you flip the sign posted against the glass from OPEN to CLOSED as he flattens your back against the wall and pulls the ribbon at your throat loose with a yank of his teeth. You sift your fingers through his hair, then grip hard, yanking his head back. “Three weeks without a letter, you bastard,” you snarl. “Thought they’d hanged you someplace out west."

“Aw, don’t tell me you was worried.”

“‘Course I was worried. You’re my best earner.”

The smile you flash along the slight is sweet and quick as a fleeting slip of riverlight, and he forces himself to smile back, but the truth remains that he has never come here empty handed. Still fearful of the risk that you might cut him with the same expectant look Dutch has at the end of deals gone wrong and scores lost.

Your eyes shut slow as you kiss him again. He runs his palm up your back as he finds and unclips the clasp of your blouse and the tension in your hand loosens like weakening resolve. It surprises him still, that gentling spread that flows arterial at the simple touch of his hand.

The room tucked behind the storefront is cramped and cluttered with belongings that you have only recently begun letting him examine. When you lead him in, it’s with your hands clutching his neckerchief like reins, tripping over the hazard of table corners and your lone, bystanding chair. You walk backwards into your unmade bed, and he lets you pull him atop you with an obedience he scarcely understands. You fumble to pull down his belt and he yanks down your skirt in a confusion of hands as you work to lay each other bare. “Did you miss me,” you murmur, and he answers not with words but with a violent jerk of his hips, relaying with friction what he does not know how to otherwise.

Arthur cups his hand to your cunt, trails his middle finger along the wet seam like tracing the crest of a wave. In red fantasy, he takes the time to prime you for him, spreads and sucks the soft furl of flesh with his mouth, but you have never had the patience for foreplay. It's as if the unselfish act of pleasuring you were a step too intimate; even in this, a necessary expectation of quid pro quo that you have not the inclination to entertain.

“Come on then, gunslinger,” you growl. Another kiss, fierce and carrying the admonishment of teeth. You jerk the fabric of his shirt up to reveal his chest, then stiffen and splay your hand over the filthy bandage wrapped there. “Christ.”

“It’s nothin’.”

The cloth is stained with old blood that has seeped from the locus of his wound like a rust colored bloom, and is grimy from sweat and travel. You stare at it with revulsion. “Morgan, this is disgusting.”

The prickle of shame that stretches up his spine has transitioned to sullen indignation by the time it reaches his head. “Didn’t figure someone in your line of work to be so goddamned squeamish.” He tries to pull his shirt back down. You grab his wrist.

“Keep this off,” you say. “I’m running you a bath.”

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan/reader #arthur morgan/oc #fic #my work #the nature of hounds #this is totally unrelated to talking bird btw

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himari-tsuki · 6 months ago

Text

「Memorandum a few days ago」

Today was the 1st overseas stage

of my world tour.

So much has happened,

I was so nervous

my whole body was shaking

before the performance.

But when I got on stage

and sang from my heart

everyone responded and all my fears

were blown away.

Thank you for letting me sing today!

With the "stay metal" spirit

I got from Fredrik

I know "There's nothing to be afraid of!"

I want to share this with everyone.

For me, singing was a way

to find a place to belong and salvation.

I’ll continue to grow in my own

way as best I can,

even though I’m still a metal baby.

wait. dungeon synth is so good…

I've received the words

"I don't like Himari's song" before.

I wasn't good at singing at that time.

Recently, I really receive a lot of words

"warrior's song, angel's voice".

I'm really happy now

that I'm meeting people

who accept my growth, not just songs.

Street tacos are so good………

Can I write one thing here?

For all my years of activity

both as a Solo artist & in a Group,

I have never been absent

from a live performance,

lessons or any artist activities.

I feel like I should be proud of this.

I tend to worry about various things

that I don't really have to think about…

but at that time,

"Am I having the most fun now?"

When I asked myself, the answer is,

"Definitely."

I want to use this English.

"YIPPIEEEEE"

I was taught this English.

"GOOD EGG"

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five-rivers · 2 years ago

Text

Memorandum

*Banging pots and pans together* GEN REX FANS COME GET YOUR FOOD.

AO3

Skwydd woke suddenly.

After years living on the street, he'd become a light sleeper. Being able to spring into action at a moment's notice was a life skill. Or, you know, trauma. But it was easier to think of it as a cool trick.

That being said, he didn't always know what it was that woke him. Which was… not great for his nerves.

This time, though…

He sat up slowly and turned his head scanning the apartment. People didn’t usually realize it, but one of his EVO adaptations was low-light vision, It was why he was usually the lookout. Not that he needed it this time. The light was on in the ‘kitchenette,’ which wasn’t really a kitchenette at all, but the doorless cubby they’d stuffed their microwave and hot plates into. It was big enough for two people to squeeze in at a time, if they weren’t particularly big on personal space.

It wasn’t really the kind of place an intruder would be hanging out in, so Skwydd got up to look without making all that much of an effort to be sneaky. Inside, bent double over the shelf they used as a counter, was Tuck.

“What are you doing?” asked Skwydd.

Tuck startled, hitting his head on the shelf above, and jostling several metal scraps to the floor. “Ow!”

Skwydd ignored him, staring at the scraps. “Is that Rex’s journal?” he asked.

“Yeah,” said Tuck, picking up the scattered pieces. “So what?”

“So, what are you doing with it?”

“I’m trying to fix it.”

Skwydd crossed his arms and leaned against the corner where the cubby let out into the rest of the room. “Why?”

Tuck turned and frowned at it, the inhuman lines of his face making the expression difficult to read, even for him. “You know, before Quarry pulled this thing out, I never would have thought Rex would have sold us out.”

“Just let it rest.” Skwydd and Cricket certainly wanted to, if for different reasons. “It’s like he said, he’s basically a different person now.”

“That’s not what I meant. I mean, why did we believe it after?”

“What d’you mean?”

“We’re not wearing tattoos for the fashion statement,” said Tuck. “And, think about it. Rex gives up his journal to Quarry, and Quarry just… keeps it handy? For three years? When he didn’t think Rex was ever going to come back?”

“Yeah, so he could play mind games with us.”

“Mind games he waited three years for? Come on, like, we knew Rex. And we know him now, sort of. And then there’s this. One of these things doesn’t fit.”

“We thought we knew him.”

“How many kids did he cure when he was with us? He didn’t double cross any of them, far as I know. And he freaking cried when he couldn’t cure someone.”

“Okay, and what’s your theory? John Scarecrow? Some kind of deepfake? It sounded just like Rex.”

“Yeah,” said Tuck, picking up a screwdriver and playing with it. “Just like him. Hey, d’you remember what Rex sounded like back then? Before he disappeared? Or do you just know what he sounds like now? ‘Cause, I can’t be sure I do.”

“Yeah, yeah, and what’s your theory?” There was some movement behind him, and Skwydd was aware he was being maybe a little loud. Cricket had still been sleeping. "Remember, Rex said he had a- a memory flash or whatever of taking Quarry's offer."

“I don't know. But Rex, he could be a jerk sometimes, but our Rex– the only way I can think of that our Rex would have willingly given this up – and freaking unlocked it for Quarry to snoop – is if he got his memory back or if he had no idea what it was."

"Holy crap," whispered Cricket behind Skwydd. "Do you really think that's what happened? Rex lost his memory and Quarry scammed him into leaving?"

"Honest?" Tuck laughed humorlessly. "I dunno that this's even Rex's journal." He dropped the screwdriver on the shelf. "I thought maybe if I get this put back together, it'd be blank except the one video or something, or if it was the real one, then there’d be something about Quarry one way or the other, but I'm not Rex. I can't talk to machines, and even he didn't think he could get anything out of this one."

"But if it isn't," said Cricket, "then where's the real one?"

"Who freaking knows.” It wasn’t a question, more an exclamation of defeat. “It’s been years.”

“Do you think we should talk to Rex about this?” asked Crickey, audibly trying to keep herself calm. “Like, if we really think it wasn’t him in the recording…”

“But we don’t know,” said Tuck. “We don’t know. And even if we did know, we still believed…” He covered his mouth with his hand, elbow firmly set on the shelf. Almost like he was grinding it in, trying to make it hurt.

He was going to break that if he wasn’t careful. The shelf wasn’t that stable.

“Would it do any good, either way?” Skwydd found himself asking out loud. “Would it do more harm than good? Since we don’t know… Maybe he did do it. We can’t tell.”

“Yeah, exactly.” Tuck’s voice was muffled by his hand, barely understandable.

“What,” said Cricket, looking back and forth between them. “You can’t be serious. You just had this whole big thing about how it wouldn’t make sense for him to do it. Like, it’s completely out of character, right? That’s what you said.”

“Yeah, well, the world doesn’t make sense, did you ever think of that?” Tuck got up and roughly pushed past Skwydd, the ribbons that made up his body briefly unknotting and brushing by him.

“Hey!” said Cricket. “Hey! Why are you so mad? You’re the one that brought it up!

Tuck spared Cricket a withering glare and otherwise only stopped long enough on the way out of the apartment to grab his hoodie and throw it over his head, so he wouldn’t be instantly pegged as an EVO.

“What gives!?” she started to go after him, but Skwydd caught her arm.

“He needs time to cool off,” he said. “Just let him be.”

Cricket glared at him and shook him off, but went back to her cot.

“I don’t get it,” said Cricket. “If we don’t think he actually sold us out, isn’t letting him think he did kind of a crappy thing to do?”

“Maybe, if we had proof one way or another,” said Skwydd. “But we don’t.” He stepped into the kitchenette and picked up a piece of the PDA, examining the sharp edge where Rex had cut it with his giant sword.

“Just, he’s our friend, isn’t he? He helped us.”

Skwydd shrugged, trying not to show how much this was affecting him. “It’s like he said. He’s a different person now.” He let the piece fall back to the table with a clatter. “In the end, he didn’t want to know about the past, either.”

He turned off the kitchenette light and went back to bed. He pretended not to hear Cricket when she asked, “Isn’t that just because he thought we were more important?”

#generator rex #memorandum

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allthebrazilianpolitics · 7 months ago

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Egypt and Brazil look to enter the ship recycling sector

New final destinations for ships are opening up with both Egypt and Brazil looking to get into the ship recycling sector.

Egypt’s transport ministry has signed a memorandum of understanding with El Wehda Industrial Company to develop a shipbreaking yard at Damietta Port as part of the government’s bid to be less reliant on imported scrap metal.

The Egyptian site will cover some 155,000 sq m and will be capable of handling ships of up to 230 m in length. Other Egyptian ship recycling sites are also being discussed.

Meanwhile, last month in Brazil a memorandum of understanding was signed between local authorities and Modern American Recycling Services to explore the feasibility of establishing a ship recycling and decommissioning yard in Porto Central.

Source.

#brazil #brazilian politics #politics #egypt #egyptian politics #economy #mod nise da silveira #image description in alt

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scotianostra · 2 years ago

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On February 12th, 1935, Scotsman Robert Watson-Watt published a report entitled The Detection of Aircraft by Radio Methods.

In the full memorandum, sometimes called ”the birth certificate of radar” Watson-Watt put forward his proposals in impressive detail. He estimated the strength of the radio signal reflected from an aircraft and discussed the optimum wavelength. He outlined how the range of the target could be measured by the use of short pulses and the plan position by the use of three range measurements; furthermore he suggested that a cathode-ray direction-finder might be developed to measure the bearing and elevation.

The Committee promptly asked for a demonstration and appointed A. P. Rowe as their sole observer. It was arranged that a Heyford bomber should fly at a height of 2000 m to and fro in the main beam of the BBC Empire short-wave transmitter at Daventry which radiated 10 kW at 498 m. A simple but sensitive arrangement was used to look for reflections from the aircraft. At a distance of 10 km from the transmitter two horizontal half-wave dipoles were mounted on poles; the dipoles faced the transmitter and were spaced 5 m apart in that direction. By means of a phase changer and two receivers the signals from the two dipoles were applied in phase opposition to a cathode-ray tube so that signals arriving directly from the transmitter produced no deflection; signals reflected from an aircraft, arriving at a different angle, were not cancelled and produced a vertical deflection on the tube. The demonstration took place on the 26th February 1935 and was viewed only by Watson-Watt, Wilkins and Rowe. They saw signals reflected from the aircraft for about 4 minutes on three occasions as the aircraft passed overhead. Watson-Watt must have been rather disappointed that Rowe didn't jump up and down with his account of the show he notes that Rowe showed 'no detectable signs of excitement or elation'. However he needn't have worried, Rowe gave him a green light in his report he wrote':'It was demonstrated beyond doubt that electromagnetic energy is reflected from the metal components of an aircraft's structure and that it can be detected. Whether aircraft can be accurately located remains to be shown.”

No one seeing the demonstration could fail to be hopeful of detecting the existence and approximate bearing of aircraft approaching the coast at ranges far in excess of those given by the 200 ft (sound) mirrors.'

As we all know the experiment, and another a fortnight later meant the equipment could go into production, on 2nd April 1935, Watson-Watt received a patent on a radio device for detecting and locating an aircraft.

The system provided the vital advance information that helped the RAF win the Battle of Britain.

There’s a great wee anectdote I always like to add to posts about Watson-Watt, he moved to Canada as a consulting engineer. As an irony in history it is reported that he was pulled over for speeding in Canada by a radar gun-toting policeman. His remark was, “Had I known what you were going to do with it I would never have invented it!” Watson-Watt’s other contributions include a cathode-ray-tube direction finder used to study atmospheric phenomena, research in electromagnetic radiation, and other inventions used for flight safety.Robert Alexander Watson-Watt died in 1973, aged 81, in Inverness.

#Scotland #scottish #world war two #radar #engineer #history

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psatalk · 15 days ago

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Runaya and Eckart to build aluminum powder facility in India

Eckart, the Germany-headquartered global manufacturer in the effect pigment market, has entered into a joint venture agreement with India-based Runaya, a pioneer in sustainable manufacturing having alliances with global technology leaders across a portfolio of high-technology products. The joint venture is establishing a new facility in Orissa to produce sustainable spherical atomized aluminium granules. These products are witnessing high demand growth not only in India but also in global markets. The granules cater to high-end applications in aerospace, solar panels, and high-value effect pigments.

The joint venture will primarily use recycled aluminum and renewable energy sources for its production. This joint venture will serve Indian and global growth markets and leverage India's position as a global hub for low-cost, cutting-edge manufacturing solutions.

Runaya and Eckart have also signed a Memorandum of Understanding to manufacture high-quality aluminum pigments.

Christian Przybyla, President of Eckart, said "The success story of Runaya by establishing sustainable production processes is impressive. By pooling our expertise in the growth market of India, we want to drive innovation and create long-term value for our customers."

Naivedya Agarwal, managing director of Runaya, said "This partnership is a game-changer in our pursuit of a circular economy. It not only transforms the aluminum recycling industry but also showcases the power of global alliances in addressing environmental challenges. By redefining the aluminum powder segment, we are setting new global benchmarks for green manufacturing."

Runaya deploys advanced technologies to drive innovation, sustainability, and efficiency in the natural resources sector. Runaya’s portfolio includes ground support products, green solutions for the aluminum industry, minor metal recovery, gas-atomized metallurgical powders, and FRP & ARP rods for the telecommunication and steel industries.

The Eckart Group, a company of Altana AG, stands as one of the premier global entities in effect pigment manufacturing. It specializes in the development, manufacture, and distribution of metallic effect and pearlescent pigments in various forms such as powder, paste, and pellets, alongside concentrates, dispersions, and printing inks.

Eckart's diverse product line finds application across industries, including coatings, printing, plastics, autoclaved aerated concrete, and cosmetics. Eckart also drives advancements in metal powder optimization for 3D printing.

Altana is a global leader in true specialty chemicals. The group offers innovative, environmentally compatible solutions for coating manufacturers, paint and plastics processors, the printing and packaging industries, the cosmetics sector, and the electrical and electronics industry. The product range includes additives, specialty coatings and adhesives, effect pigments, sealants and compounds, impregnating resins and varnishes, and testing and measuring instruments.

#Runaya

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gylslon · 19 days ago

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Memorandum of Understanding on a Friendship

Memorandum of Understanding Amongst the Nations of Empire of Abyssinia, Imperial State of Persia

Memorandum of Understanding on a Friendship

Reaffirming the three principles of dispute settlement through peaceful negotiation, collective security, and importance of strengthened military, the submittors of this Memorandum of Understanding agree to respect each other’s territorial sovereignty and borders, engage in peaceful negotiations should disputes happen, maintain and strengthen relations through state visits and trade, levy sanctions against the Kingdom of Italy on several fronts such as weapons, oil, and metals.

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erwinrer · 1 month ago

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Mongolia has to help solve South Korea's problem, but it has to ask China on how to be shipped out

As China's controls on gallium and germanium come into effect, the United States is preparing to extract the waste, and South Korea, a semiconductor power, is worried about turmoil in the semiconductor market. Under such circumstances, Mongolia started its journey on a visit to the United States, trying to help the United States and South Korea solve their big problems, but without China's nod, nothing is out of the question.

China shakes South Korea semiconductor, Mongolia decided to move

Against the backdrop of the escalating resource war between China and the United States, Mongolian Prime Minister Oyun Erden visited the United States, and the two sides focused on how to better develop rare earths and other key fields. In addition, the two sides will also deepen their cooperation in food security, space cooperation and the climate crisis, and further expand the strategic partnership between the two countries.

In order to facilitate transport, the two sides also signed an agreement to open direct flights next year. US Vice President Harris was very happy and praised Mongolia as a reliable democracy and friend of the United States in the Indo-Pacific region. For this visit, the two sides had been discussing cooperation on rare earth and minerals two months ago and signed a memorandum of understanding, this time mainly to discuss how to implement it.

At the same time, the United States also brought its Allies, inviting South Korea to join the Korea, America and Mongolia Key Mineral Mechanism, aiming to stabilize the global key mineral supply chain and support cooperation among the three countries in the mining of lithium, rare earth and coal. This is also an important step for the United States to seek and build a new rare earth supply chain beyond its dependence on China.

Mongolia, on the other hand, has helped South Korea a lot. As a Korean country, South Korea has little rare earth resources of its own and needs to import from foreign countries. With the development of new energy vehicles and mobile phones, South Korea's demand for lithium is increasing, while the supply of lithium is relatively limited. Therefore, South Korea attaches great importance to lithium reserves, setting up a special rare metal reserve base and set reserve targets.

However, due to major environmental trends such as new energy vehicles and solar power generation, as well as controls or restrictions on the export of rare metals in some countries, the market for lithium has gone up again, leaving Korea's lithium reserves far below its target. According to public data, South Korea's current lithium capacity is only 5.8 days, far below the 100-day target, meaning that South Korean companies will face huge risks and losses if supply cuts or soaring prices occur.

Before that, China was South Korea's largest source of lithium imports, accounting for nearly 80 percent of its total total. China's lithium exports to South Korea are mainly lithium hydroxide, which is used to make products such as lithium-ion batteries. In addition, many rare metals are imported from China. So after China's controls on gallium and germanium took effect, South Korean media immediately worried that it would shake South Korea's semiconductor industry. Now with Mongolia as an option, South Korea will be more comfortable with a shortage of key resources.

How to transport the rare earth, we have to ask China your opinion

Although Han's idea is good, an important prerequisite is the geographical location of Mongolia. Because Mongolia is a landlocked country, caught up between China and Russia.

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darkmaga-returns · 3 months ago

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“Neutral like Switzerland” can no longer be a saying as the Swiss government has announced it is joining the European Sky Shield Initiative (ESSI) to develop a shared missile defense system across Europe. Switzerland is neither an official member of the European Union nor a member of NATO. Yet, the nation forfeited its neutrality stance years ago as Swiss leaders continued to adopt globalist rules.

The ESSI was initially proposed by Germany in 2022 amid the Russia-Ukraine war. The program will integrate with NATO’s Integrated Air and Missile Defense (IAMD) to enhance Europe’s air defenses. The powers that be know war is on the horizon, but they are betting on most of Europe continuing to fight on the same team. Armament chief Urs Loher has signed the memorandum of understanding (MoU), officially making Switzerland the 15th nation to join this coalition.

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Switzerland claims that the MoU does not force it into any binding obligation as the government may choose its level of involvement. The Swiss government also claims that it may withdraw from the ESSI if any member becomes involved in a war. “With its participation in the ESSI, Switzerland is increasing international opportunities for cooperation: ESSI enables better coordination of procurement projects, training and logistical aspects in the area of ground-based air defense,” the government noted in a statement. The initial project will protect Europe against medium-range missiles, but naturally, the plan is to accelerate this technology.

Switzerland lost its tax haven status years ago when it began offering up banking information to foreign governments. Switzerland completely capitulated its historic safe-haven status to the entire world. The country was born from a tax revolt against the Hapsburg dynasty in Austria. The tax collector made William Tell to shoot an apple off his son’s head with an arrow. Switzerland then remained neutral in war and religion, serving as a safe haven for those who would be religiously persecuted. All of that is now gone.

In 2015, the Swiss Senate passed a resolution to exchange ALL information on anyone who has any assets in Switzerland. They have surrendered their sovereignty to this worldwide effort to destroy the entire global economy because politicians can never run any government efficiently.

Of the nation’s three main sectors, the tertiary sector is the most important for the Swiss economy. It includes banking, insurance, and tourism, employing more than 75% of Switzerland’s workforce. Over a fifth of the working population makes up the secondary sector, i.e. industry, trade, and crafts. The machine, metal, watch, and textile industries play a significant role, as do the chemical and pharmaceutical industries, which rely heavily on imports and exports. By far, banking was a major sector at the top of the list.

The Swiss economy was built on its banking expertise and security. That is now gone in the age of hunting cash globally. Consequently, the economy of Switzerland lost its primary competitive advantage economically. Now it must develop industries that are competitive globally. It needs more than chocolate and Rolex watches.

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forblogmostly · 3 months ago

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Advik Capital Ventures into Supply Chain Financing with Strategic Partnership

In a move that marks a significant milestone in its growth strategy, Advik Capital Limited, a BSE-listed Non-Banking Financial Company (NBFC), has announced its entry into the supply chain financing space. On September 24, 2024, the company unveiled its new initiative aimed at broadening its financial service offerings, with a particular focus on providing supply chain financing to businesses across a wide range of industries. This includes sectors like agriculture, Fast-Moving Consumer Goods (FMCG), Fast-Moving Consumer Durables (FMCD), metals, and engineering goods.

This initiative, designed to enhance operational efficiency within supply chains, is expected to drive sustainable growth and provide essential financial support to companies operating in these diverse sectors. Advik Capital’s foray into supply chain financing reflects its continued commitment to supporting businesses, especially those that are part of India’s growing MSME (Micro, Small, and Medium Enterprises) sector.

A Strategic Partnership with a Leading FMCG Agri-Product Company As part of this ambitious project, Advik Capital has entered into a Memorandum of Understanding (MOU) with a leading agri-product FMCG company. While the identity of this partner remains confidential due to business sensitivities, the collaboration is expected to form the bedrock of Advik Capital’s supply chain financing model.

This new partnership will enable businesses, especially those involved in the production and distribution of agri-products, to access tailored financial solutions. This includes the provision of working capital, infrastructure investment, and expert technical assistance, all of which are aimed at optimizing supply chain operations.

The company also emphasizes that its supply chain financing initiative will prioritize sustainability. By promoting sustainable practices across supply chains, Advik Capital seeks to foster long-term growth and resilience for its business partners.

Tailored Financial Solutions for Supply Chain Optimization A core feature of Advik Capital’s supply chain financing program is its focus on providing customized financial solutions that address the unique needs of businesses. This means that companies within targeted industries can expect to benefit from financing that is specifically designed to enhance their supply chain efficiency. This could involve funding for infrastructure development, which would allow companies to improve critical logistics, storage, and distribution processes.

In addition to providing financial backing, Advik Capital is also committed to offering expert guidance to its business partners. This technical assistance will focus on best practices in financial management, helping companies maximize operational efficiency and unlock new growth opportunities.

A Focus on Direct Supplier Financing One of the most distinctive aspects of Advik Capital’s approach is its emphasis on direct supplier financing. By structuring financing arrangements directly with suppliers, without recourse to the principal companies, Advik Capital seeks to mitigate dependency on traditional product lines. This, in turn, broadens the company’s operational scope, allowing it to diversify its portfolio while significantly enhancing profitability.

This method of direct financing not only reduces concentration risk but also enables the company to better adapt to market fluctuations. As a result, Advik Capital is better positioned to ensure long-term revenue visibility and sustainable growth.

Expanding into Diverse Industries Advik Capital’s move into supply chain financing represents just the beginning of its larger expansion strategy. The company is aiming to establish similar partnerships across various industries, thereby cementing its position as a key player in the MSME financing space.

Mr. Pankaj Sharma, CFO and Whole-Time Director of Advik Capital, remarked on the significance of the new initiative, stating, "Our entry into supply chain financing—particularly through our partnership with a leading agri-product FMCG company—marks a significant milestone in our long-term growth strategy. This initiative underscores our commitment to empowering businesses and enhancing their supply chain capabilities. By collaborating directly with suppliers, we aim to foster resilience and innovation across diverse sectors."

Aiming for Sustainable Growth in a Competitive Landscape The company’s decision to venture into supply chain financing is a strategic one, aimed at tapping into a broader spectrum of business opportunities. By diversifying its operations, Advik Capital is mitigating risk and ensuring that it remains adaptable in an increasingly competitive market. This initiative positions the company for enduring success, paving the way for future growth and innovation across a variety of sectors.

Furthermore, Advik Capital's ability to provide customized financial solutions and its focus on sustainability highlights its forward-thinking approach. The company’s efforts to promote sustainability within supply chains are expected to benefit not only the businesses involved but also the broader economy, contributing to a more resilient and robust economic landscape.

About Advik Capital Limited Advik Capital Limited, headquartered in New Delhi, is an emerging non-banking financial company registered with the Reserve Bank of India as a non-deposit-taking NBFC. The company focuses on providing loans and ancillary financial services to a diverse range of industries, with a particular emphasis on supporting businesses in the MSME sector.

As part of its long-term growth strategy, Advik Capital is committed to exploring new opportunities in the investment markets, both domestically and internationally. By leveraging its expertise and innovative approach, the company aims to expand its operations and continue delivering value to its clients.

With the launch of its supply chain financing initiative, Advik Capital is taking a major step forward in its mission to support business growth and drive sustainable development across a wide range of industries.

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