#supercharger whine

[seat-safety-switch]

Most of you have never driven a car that's got a supercharger on it. Despite mass-media's glorification of the humble Roots (and even the inferior screw-type,) production automobiles have, at best, a turbocharger. Aftermarket cars? Turbos are cheap as hell from AliExpress, slap 'em on there.

The humble supercharger is dying out, between "it costs more to make," "you actually have to maintain it," "belts are icky," and "it caused my fuel economy to poop off a cliff." I think this is a little disappointing. We've lost our heritage as far as Mad Max-style blower whine goes. And that's on gas cars, the exclusive province of "maybe this is a bad idea, but it makes a cool noise."

Even though the sound of an IGBT-stuffed inverter spooling up and getting its gallop on is certainly exciting, there's no way we can put a supercharger on top of an electric car. It will simply cease to exist, lost along with the internal-combustion engine in favour of effortless, abundant torque from any speed.

Don't worry, though. I've got a solution. Many people don't know this, but the Roots supercharger originates in mineshaft ventilation. Bossmen kept having their workers run out of oxygen and die deep underground. The solution? Build a giant machine that pumps compressed air down the mineshaft, and make those ungrateful labourers suck in fresh air whether they like it or not. Sure, a couple lungs were popped, and even the dumbest forum tuner will tell you that the increased air-fuel ratio forced a lot of miners to eat a bigger breakfast, but it worked out. And it can work out for ourselves in this great new modern era.

If there's one thing that electric cars don't currently have, it's good air conditioning. Keeping the humans inside comfortable is simply too much of a drag on current. By cutting a hole in the roof, and then welding a Roots-type supercharger onto that roof, we can easily ventilate the cabin enough to blow the windows out of the doors. Sure, it does mean quite a bit of parasitic loss (that's engineer for "it's kinda hard to push until it really gets going,") but I think it's worth it to preserve our culture. Also, you should really wear ear protection while you're sitting that close to it.

[nevadas-night-time-novelist]

I really loved the werewolf! sanford you wrote! I was wondering if you could do a follow up where someone on the team accidentally turns the reader? (maybe Hank or Sanford himself)

It's another werewolf! All dressed up in sheep's wool, and changing when the moons full. Can you show me the way?

Werewolf!Sanford x Demigirl!Reader P2

CW: Reader gets hurt, whole team gets hurt, descriptions of gore, vomit and body horror.

[Part 1] - will link later lol

Deimos had the zoomies, sprinting back and forth from your bedroom to the front door, his toes tip tapping with impatience and excitement. It'd been a couple months since you started going on hunts with the boys, always on Sanford's broad back, the night air fresh in your lungs, hair blown by the wind.

The boys felt safe enough to transform inside the base with you around, seeing as you could open the door to let them out. "I'm coming, hold your horses Dei." You chuckled as he ran up again, whining softly with puppy eyes, ears drawn back.

Something softly headbutted your back, and you turned to see Doc, who strolled passed and sat by the door. Hurry up. He was patient, yes, but even he was starting to get bored of waiting.

There was a scuffling noise in the kitchen, and you wandered over to see Hank with their head inside the bin, rummaging around for some leftovers. He turned to look at you, a chicken leg bone in his mouth. Yesterday's scraps, tonight's lunch.

Sanford padded out of your room, yawning widely, chuffing softly as he nuzzled his cold nose into your hand. "You ready Fordie?" He licked your palm, and you headed to the door, both wolves trailing behind.

Dei yipped in excitement, his feet tapping away still. He was the quickest of the pack, always sprinting around while outside, a supercharged battery burning off its excess energy.

Opening the door, the four wolves exited first, Deimos running off ahead, Doc walking behind, clearly intent on waiting until the door was secure as usual. Hank was still gnawing away at their treat, enjoying the marrow seeping out at they cracked and splintered the old bone. Sanford took a few paces outside, before laying down so you could climb on his back.

You pet Doc's head, setting the lock on the door before hopping into Sanford's back. "Alright furry boys, let's ride!"

Hank took off after Deimos, being easily swallowed by the night as the full moon was obscured by heavy clouds. Doc and Sanford followed, keeping pace with each other. It was routine, Deimos and Hank would run off up front, San and Doc taking up the rear, though rarely did they stray too far from each other.

The strength of a wolf is his pack, and the strength of a pack is the wolf. You could feel Sanford's heart beating against your thigh, his chest heaving as he ran along, his heavy paws thudding along, coughing up earth with his claws.

Up ahead, Deimos and Hank were atop a cliff, the smaller wolf looking skyward, awaiting for the very brief window when the moon would be visible. The three of you caught up, and you got off Sanford's back, the wolves grouping together to call a hunt.

A slither of silver shone in the sky, and Doc threw back his head, letting out a mournful howl, which was joined in a chorus by the rest. Butterflies filled your stomach, and you couldn't resist, howling with them too. And the moon vanished, hiding herself away for this night.

Hank threw you a questioning look, before marching down the cliff side, uninterested in you. Doc approached, nudging you with his head before turning to follow Hank. Deimos was wagging his tail, giving a soft awoo and giving a playful bow. Like Doc, he rubbed against you before waiting at the cliff.

San came up last, rubbing his face affectionately against you, rubbing his scent all over you. He'd asked you to be his partner recently, and you agreed excitedly. He'd given you a whole new happier life, of course you'd want to share it with him.

He bowed again, letting you climb atop, getting a good grip of his neck fur as you leaned into him, the cliff was pretty steep, staying low was the best way to keep safe and on top of your ride.

Together Dei and San raced, kicking up rocks in their wake, excitement flooding your veins. You weren't super into the killing, but the pack activities really helped bond you with the boys, they offered you more physical affection. Deimos was always trying to snuggle with you and Sanford, Doc would touch your hair softly as he passed by, Hank would... sometimes offer you a thumbs up.

Despite not being a wolf, you fit perfectly into the pack, as a pack mate, and as Sanford's girlfriend. Once again you hopped off his back, ahead of you stood a band of vampires. Stepping back, you tightly gripped the silver crucifix Doc had given you, the bottom of it had been sharpened like a knife, a powerful weapon for banishing supernatural beasts of all shapes and sizes.

"Fuck 'em up boys." At your command, the wolves lunged forward, the turf war underway. The wolves, all being skilled fighters in normal life, had the upper hand, and with their blood being corrosive to vampire's innards, it was sure to be a massacre.

Coloured blood painted the streets, neon leaking on every surface. Even the werewolves' badass bitch managed to take down one or two, Doc's gift proving to be incredibly useful.

Blood splashed into Hank's eyes, they were temporaily blinded, and with no arms to wipe the blood away, they latched onto the nearest thing that wasn't a wolf and smelled of vampires.

You screamed as his teeth dug in, and instantly he let go, realising his mistake. Deimos ripped the intestines of the last vamp standing, while Doc spun on his paws, noticing you crumple to the ground, clinging to your mauled arm.

"Hank you bastard!" Sanford snarled, lunging at him, the two sending fur and blood flying as they fought, San in pure rage, and Hank in self defence.

Doc raced over, Deimos following behind, both scared. "What happened?" Dei looked to Doc, eyes stricken with terror. "Vampire?"

"It was Hank. Sanford and I saw it." Doc nuzzled his face against you, licking your wound, but the pain didn't subside as it had with Sanford all those months back, it felt like acid was pouring into your skin.

"IT BURNS!" You dropped your weapon, Doc smelled burnt flesh and he nudged your hand, the silver having left a scald. The pain was overwhelming, you'd even missed out on the fact you could understand the wolves words now.

"SANFORD! STOP! She's going to turn!" Doc barked out, and a bloodied up Sanford tossed Hank aside before laying next to you, Hank had gotten a good few bites and scratches into his already wounded body.

"You.. I'm sorry, I didn't protect you princess." His golden eyes filled with hurt and pain, pain of being unable to protect his partner, his woman.

Agony filled your body, bones creaking and starting to reshape, nails splitting into claws, blood and teeth flooded out your mouth, old human ones forced out as new wolf ones formed in, round, sharp, capable of splitting flesh from bone.

There were no words to describe the hell your fragile body was going through, spine cracking and extending, legs bending unnaturally to take on new form. Blood, snot and tears flooded from your face, and it tore Sanford up, because there was nothing any of them could do to ease the suffering.

"They're going to be okay, right?" Deimos sounded panicked.

"Of course they are. She's always had a wolf's strength. Only now they've got the body to go along with the spirit." Doc put his tail around Dei's back, and Dei leaned into his father figure, whining softly.

Your body felt like it was on fire, a mixture of blood and puke rolled out of your mouth, your claws scraping up the concrete road. Bright wolf eyes opened, scanning the rest of her pack, seeing them in a whole new perspective.

"I know it hurts." Sanford placed his muzzle over yours, body twitching and settling into its new self. "The first few always do. But your body will get used to it. And they will never be as painful as the first one, that's when the worst changes happen. We've all been through it princess."

You rested your face into San's thick neck fur, his once off putting dog smell now appealing. "D-does.. t-this me--mean I get to bite the n-next one who joins u-us?" The joke fell flat, but Sanford licked your muzzle.

Hank took a step forward, and Sanford snarled at him, ready to attack if he advanced again. "I.. I'm sorry. It was an accident. Blood in my eyes. Instinct to bite."

"You are banished from the pack tonight. You will spend the night alone, and as many moons as it takes for her to forgive you." Doc commanded, his teeth bared. "Is that clear?"

"No." You eyed Doc, who's ears went backwards.

"I'm sorry?"

"Hank will not be punished like that. While I don't forgive them for what they've done to me, I will not deprive them of one of the only comforts they know." Your grey fur bristled.

"Are you sure?" Sanford mumbled lowly, never taking his eyes off Hank.

"Yes. You taught me the way of the wolf, and depriving them of that is cruel. But make no mistake, you are not to touch me, in any shape or form, my body is not yours to lay a claw or fang on again. You will have to do a lot to earn forgiveness, but if you try, perhaps you will."

Taking the lead, you turned and began heading towards home, each step painful as bones and muscles had to adjust to their new positions and lengths, black tipped tail hanging limp. Sanford followed, Dei behind him, Doc next, and Hank bringing up the rear.

"You are lucky," Doc growled. "that they are so kind. Even now, she has pared you from isolation, after what you've done."

"I know." Hank's tail was slightly between their legs.

Doc stopped in his tracks, letting the three of you get a lead, just enough to be out of earshot. "Besides, you owe Sanford an apology too."

"How so?"

"He wanted to change them himself." Doc gave a wolfy chuckle before plodding onwards, leaving Hank to ponder a moment. They would let their packmates nurse each others wounds, allowing their own to scab over without help, a self inflected punishment.

They trudged along, a space next to Doc was calling his name in the den bed. A space that was furthest from Sanford and his mate.

[benthesoldiersjeanshorts]

I just got the plates and title transfer done last Tuesday.

It was a fun, for the 4 days I got to drive her. 😓

I already miss hearing that little supercharger whine.

[jahayla-parker]

Hey I love your writing and I think you would do a better job of putting my weird and wacky thoughts into words but I can’t get the idea of the reader being like super hyper and energetic and stuff and Freddy having to calm her down because she’s going to pass out other wise? Thank you so much, love your writing!! 😘😘

Supercharged Love : Freddy Carter x Reader

Description: 2k wc, reader is very hyper and energetic making Freddy have to calm her down every now and then so she doesn’t pass out. Fluff

Warnings: mentions of dizziness and worry of passing out, mentions of some drinking/wine, otherwise fluff

“Freddddyyy!!!” Y/N’s gleeful voice called out as she sprinted down their hallway.

Her feet slid as they tried to grip the floor in order to stop moving, making Freddy chuckle.

“Darling, easy, easy” he smirked, his hands latching onto her biceps to halt her.

She grinned at him and quickly pecked his cheek, “can you zip me? I can’t reach it!”

Freddy nodded and laughed, “‘course, spin for me love”.

Y/n complied, spinning quickly to the music of Freddy’s laughter until she got dizzy.

“I meant spin around” he teased, stabilizing her when he saw her sway some.

“Ooo” she giggled with a shrug as she turned so her back was to him.

He laughed and placed a soft kiss to her bare shoulder as he carefully zipped her dress.

Y/n turned around and wrapped her arms around his neck, a wide smile on her lips as her eyes danced around his face.

“You’re so pretty” she smiled, “are you ready?!”

He blushed and nodded, “let me just get my keys, darling”.

“Oh, I’ll get them!” She offered, rushing towards the back door where their key rack was installed.

Freddy rose an eyebrow silently as he watched her, a smile gracing his lips.

“Got ‘em!” She called excitedly.

Freddy’s eyes nearly popped out of his head when he watched her turn around far too quickly, her ankle struggling to keep up in her heels.

Fortunately, it was stable enough for her not to notice and only made her giggle more before she rushed down the hallway again.

“I could’ve gotten them y/n/n” he sighed softly as she returned to him.

She nodded, kissing his cheek as she handed him the keys, “you would’ve been too slow!”

Freddy scoffed and promptly held her to his side knowing they had to go down a set of stairs to reach the car and he didn’t need her hyperness making her trip.

“Did you and Amita have a ton of drinks for brunch today?” He questioned kindly after he started the car.

“Hmm? Oh, no. I just had my waffle with strawberries and a tea! Why?” Y/n asked, glancing over at him.

He shook his head and smiled over at her before looking back at the road, “you’re just very, energetic, today love”.

“Oh” she mumbled, suddenly straightening her back and tucking her fidgeting hands into her lap.

Freddy’s brows scrunched together as he watched her try not to bounce in his passenger seat.

“‘ey, love, it’s not a bad thing” he promised, his hand reaching over and pulling one of her pinned hands out from between her thighs.

“It’s really cute,” Freddy grinned, “I just wasn’t sure what was driving that”.

She visibly let go of her insecurity and smiled, “oh. I don’t know, but not alcohol. Yet”.

Freddy shook his head as he laughed, “mmm yeah, you could clearly use a drink to let loose love”.

Y/n saw his smirk and smirked back as she shrugged, “I think so too”.

———

“Go ahead love, I’ll watch from here hmm?” Freddy encouraged, holding her heels in his hand as she stared at the dance floor.

She spun and gave him a kiss before skipping away.

He smiled to himself and took a few candid photos as she danced.

——

“You have a beautiful voice!” Y/n whined, holding the karaoke microphone towards Freddy.

He blushed and bit his lip nervously as he looked around the private booth they’d reserved despite knowing it was just them.

But as he looked into her cheerful hopeful eyes, he took the microphone from her.

——

“Love, how about you take a moment to catch your breath, then you can-“ Freddy suggested as he watched y/n struggle to breathe.

She shook her head and pressed play on the audio clip for the next chosen song.

“I stay out too late!” She scream sang into the microphone, spinning around on the platform.

Freddy smiled to himself but watched her cautiously.

——

“Can’t stop, won’t stop moving-“ y/n continued, still spinning and dancing randomly.

Freddy lunged forward as she lost her balance, barely reaching her when she was mere inches from the floor.

“Maybe for now you need to” he teased softly despite his panicked state.

She huffed but nodded, hands going up to her head as he raised her back into a standing position.

“Dizzy?” He questioned, eyes staring intensely at her.

“A little” she admitted with a small giggle.

“Alright, come now,” he told her, guiding her by her waist over to the sofa in the booth.

She plopped down and sighed contentedly.

Freddy stood before her for a few seconds, his worried eyes scanning her to ensure she was okay.

Then he joined her, his arm wrapping over her shoulder and tugging her to his side.

“I love how happy you are y/n/n, but you’re scaring the life out of me when you do that” he whispered as he rested his chin on the top of her head.

“Sorry” she hummed, playing innocently with the buttons on his dress shirt.

He pulled his head back until his lips could easily touch her forehead sand placed a tender kiss.

“You don’t need to say you’re sorry” he promised, “I don’t mind watching over you to ensure you don’t over do it and pass out”

“I wouldn’t pass out” she giggled, head tilted back to smile up at him.

He rose his left brow and shook his head playfully, “I’ve seen your poor ankles nearly buckle at least five times tonight, most of which were when you were in dangerous proximity to a hard surface you easily would’ve hit your head on. And you’ve hardly been drinking enough water or letting yourself breathe and heartbeat slow down since before I got home”.

She giggled and shrugged, “I’m in a good mood”.

He smiled as his fingers graced her cheek, “and I love that”.

“It’s just, today is such a good day, honey” she smiled back, tilting her head slightly yo the side.

Before he could respond, she tightly laced her fingers with his free hand., “You’re to blame anyways”

He gasped dramatically, “blame seems harsh. But please, do go on about how I made today a good day”

Y/n rolled her eyes lightheartedly at him, “well, you started it off so nicely by making me a mug of my favorite coffee (or other caffeinated drink), then I saw the sweet note you left on our bathroom mirror for when I got ready to meet Amita, then I found out you prepaid for Amita and I’s brunch, then you took me out tonight, all of which was so unnecessary but sweet”.

Freddy blushed madly and hid his face in her hair as he held her tightly.

“Darling, none of that is a big-“ he began.

“Shut up Carter” she warned as she sent him a stern look that only made him giggle.

She groaned softly and shook her head, “I know you do unbelievably kind things for me all the time, but I don’t know, it’s just been a really nice week, and I slept well, and today you just topped it off so perfectly”.

Freddy couldn’t hide his grin this time and began placing kisses all over her face.

“Hey! You said I had to calm down” she giggled, squirming slightly in his arms.

“I may have changed my mind” he smirked, continuing to try and cover her whole face.

“Are you ready for dinner?” He questioned, holding his hand out to her.

Y/n set both of their microphones down on the equipment table and interlaced their hands with an excited nod.

Freddy chuckled and led her out of the room and to the car.

———

“You doing alright, love?” He questioned as her head moved side to side slightly when she lifted her head back up from having thrown it back in laughter seconds before.

She smiled and blinked rapidly before giving him an enthusiastic thumbs up.

Freddy chuckled lightly and slid her glass closer to her, “you should drink some more anyways”.

Granted, it wasn’t water, but at least it was still getting fluids into her somehow.

Plus, he’d gotten her to agree to have a full glass of water after each half glass of wine.

“I love you handsome” she smiled widely as she set her glass back on the table.

Freddy grinned and but his bottom lip, “I love you too”.

——

“But, come on! If you run it makes wind hit your face and it feels so nice” y/n explained as she stopped running at Freddy’s request.

He sighed guiltily, not wanting to stop her fun, “you’re barely standing straight and I’m seriously worried about you passing out”.

“I’m not gonna pass out!” She argued, running again to try and get some more pent up energy out.

Freddy watched as she abruptly stopped in order to avoid a huge hole inthe sidewalk and then she turned to him Delilah with a weird expression.

“Y/n?” He called out, jogging with her heels swinging in his hands as he rushed to her.

“Maybe I am” she admitted, leaning over to support herself on the closet light post.

“What?” Freddy questioned, arms holding onto her as soon as he was within reach.

“Maybe I am gonna pass out” she hummed, a small frown on her lips

Despite his own heartbeat increasing rapidly and his uncontrollably wide eyes, he tried to remain calm for her.

“But you swore you weren’t, you little liar” he jokingly forced out, please when she laughed a little.

“I lied, but can you blame me? Your smile is so beautiful “ she grinned, “I’ve been watching it all night, hence the spinning around so often”.

He found himself blushing again but focused on getting her to the car safely.

“Do you want to stay here while I pull the car around for us, or-“ he began.

“Can I just snuggle against you?” She asked, her words coming out so quickly they mixed together.

“What was that?” He chuckled.

She bit her lip and took a deep breath to slow herself down, “can I just hold onto you as we go?”

Freddy smiled and nodded, shifting himself so that she could use him as support, “let’s go”.

——

“This works too!” Y/n exclaimed as she let her head hang out the window as Freddy drive.

He glanced over and laughed loudly before tugging on her arm, “get back in the car”.

“I get why dogs do this” she blurted, only causing his laughter to increase.

Once he got himself under control, he began tugging on her again, “ple-“.

“I’m in” she said, suddenly back in her seat properly.

He rose an eyebrow at her lack of stubbornness.

“I…” she mumbled shyly .

“Were you going to pass out again?” He pondered.

“It’s a rush, I didn’t think about that part of it” she admitted with a small laugh, “I’m done now though “.

Freddy chuckled and lifted the back of her hand to his lips briefly, “at least for tonight. You can do this all again whenever, just make sure I’m there to regulate it”

She knew he was being supportive but she could sense the underlying concern he still had, “of course, you’re the only one who gets me like this anyways”.

Freddy blushed again and squeezed her hand.

“Thank you for taking care of me tonight babe” she said, a small yawn following.

He gasped, “you’re tired?!”

“Shut up” she smiled.

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[kittyball23]

Talent Nab (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: Velvet and Veneer discover that they can steal Floyd’s talent

A/N: This was another early draft I’d written back in June. Consider it another “Deleted Scene” of mine, if you will, since I’d written this when I had believed that Velvet and Veneer were Bergens. It made sense to me back then, since Bergens were able to obtain happiness from eating them, I figured they could steal talent by smelling

__________________________________________

Oh, this is NOT good…

Floyd gulped, taking in his surroundings. This was like something out of every Troll’s nightmare, only this was a nightmare that he was unable to wake up from. One that he was unable to open his eyes and breathe a sigh of relief upon the realization that it was only a bad dream. Nope. This was one-hundred percent real.

He lay on his back on a porcelain platter, a garnish of herbs and lemon and some other vegetables around him. To one side of the plate was a fork. To the other side of the plate was a knife. And above him were two sneering Bergens who were just about ready to use those utensils to split him up.

“Velvet, I’m hungry, can we eat already?” one of the Bergens whined.

“NO, Veneer! I gotta find the salt first!” the Bergen named Velvet snapped at him. Floyd could hear her rummaging through the cabinets, unable to find her desired condiment and muttering to herself angrily.

Veneer waited a minute, but Floyd could tell he was getting impatient with the way he licked his lips and they manner in which his fingers twitched. “Velvet…” he called again.

“In a MINUTE!” she growled back.

Veneer groaned. He couldn’t wait a minute, not when there was a delicious little Troll just waiting to be eaten! Making sure his sister wasn’t watching, he picked Floyd up. His mouth was already starting to water, and the Troll quivered in fear.

“Mmm-mmm!” Veneer licked his lips again, practically salivating. Floyd closed his eyes as the Bergen brought him up towards his face…

… and inhaled deeply.

Floyd released a breath he was holding. It was still a little gross having Veneer sniff him up like that, but at least he wasn’t eating him.

Not yet at least, Floyd thought grimly.

“Wow,” Veneer breathed. “That smells sooo, GoooOooooD!” he suddenly sang out.

Velvet whirled around, staring at him in awe. “What in the world… was that you?” she asked him. She had never heard Veneer hit a note that well, and she would’ve complimented him for it… until she realized that he had the Troll in his hands.

“HEY!” she screamed, snatching Floyd from her brother’s hands and smacking him. “We’re supposed to share this, remember?”

“Oh, you mean cut 75% for you, and leave 25% for me?” Veneer asked sarcastically.

“I get more because I’m older!” Velvet snapped.

“Yeah, by eight minutes!” Veneer retorted. He hated when Velvet pulled the “I’m the older twin” card on him.

“Oh, shut up, Veneer, it’s still older, isn’t it?!” Velvet held Floyd in her hands, not bothered by the way that the Troll had grown sickly-looking from all the talk of wanting to eat him. She narrowed her eyes at him, still confused by Veneer’s singing.

Hmmm, I wonder…

Velvet leaned in and took a whiff of her own. She suddenly felt charged up, like there was a force inside of her, powering up and breaking through with her very own high C note.

She gasped afterwards, blinking in surprise and glancing at Veneer. “Did you hear that?” she asked him.

“Oh, you mean the sound of my stomach growling?” he responded snarkily.

“Don’t be an idiot!” Velvet grumbled. “Here, you try and smell him again.”

“Smell him? I wanna eat - “

“Just DO IT!”

Veneer rolled his eyes, but he did as he was told. In doing so, he suddenly felt that supercharged energy that his sister just moments ago did (not having noticed it before due to his desire to eat the Troll). A perfect musical note came out of him, and he glanced at Velvet like an epiphany hit him.

“Wait a second…” he said, and his sister nodded.

Velvet grinned manically and held Floyd up by the hair. “Well, little guy. Your life may be spared, but it doesn’t mean you won’t be repurposed.”

Repurposed? Floyd was confused. What did that mean? And why did he feel so drained after they’d sniffed him?

Velvet cleared out the table, flinging everything that was on top of it off where it clattered onto the floor with a CRASH!

“Hey!” Veneer cried. “Look at the mess you made!”

“YOU clean it up, then!” Velvet demanded, yanking out a diamond bottle from a drawer. She grinned at Floyd. “You, my little friend, are going to stay in here for now. Can’t have you escaping now, can we?”

Before the Troll knew it, he was shoved inside the diamond, its lid promptly screwed tight. The last thing he heard before Velvet and Veneer both exited that room being the horrid, wicked laughs that they emitted. Laughs that were confident, as though they already knew they won. Laughs that made Floyd unnerved, and made him wonder if he would ever get out of this scrap alive.

[starcolonelkatrinamoon]

Death and Glory

The sound of impact guns rattled through the FOB camp of Clan Smoke Jaguar. It was all hands on deck for refit and repairs and they were behind schedule with ten mechs that needed major work.

New orders had come down from above. Instead of an assault on Falaise, they were to be interdicting the superheavy column. That dictated an entirely separate kind of tactics and warfare that they were not originally prepared for. To that end they had called in Gorgon Star - part of the untouched Supernova they had left in orbit. And they were going to need to move fast.

Five HBK-IIC “Gorgon”s were readied at the edge of the encampment to head out, along with their accompanying support elements. Up-engined J-37 transports loaded down with tons of ammunition and a couple industrialmechs with loading mechanisms for swiftly changing out the bins of belted ammunition. The five mechs had a near-standard CSJ Alpha Galaxy paintjob with one exception: a head of snake hair, painted over the cockpit and rear reactor cowling. 

Katrina finished final warmup checks of her own HBK-IIC. All of the communications systems had connected with her helmet correctly. She hoped that stayed the case, even with the left torso EW pod operating at full spectrum. She toggled the painfully familiar power panel, beginning the system startup sequence.

Reactor online.

Sensors online.

Weapons online.

All systems Nominal.

A shuddering breath escaped the woman as she eased into the throttle with trepidation, leaning the BattleMech to the right to join up with Gorgon star. The Hunchback - already nicknamed Pushin’ Flowers by Gorgon star - responded snappily and swiftly, precisely coming to a stop in line with the other ‘mechs.

Katrina eyed the name painted across the shoulder of the Hunchback next to her. “Permanent Address” was hand-daubed in script across the shoulder armor, the iconography of a gravestone beneath it. As the other BattleMechs powered up one by one, the star’s BattleComms came alive and synchronized.

“Ready to rock with the dead, Star Colonel?!” Cheered Enigma the Star Commander enthusiastically, her BattleMech throwing its arm up into the air. “Last Home” could be read across its right torso, emblazoned on the outline of a crypt. Without waiting for an answer, she pushed her mech into a run, dirt kicking up.

A series of whoops and hollers would break over the comms as the rest of the star threw their mechs into overdrive, their superchargers enabling them to catch up quickly. With little hesitation, Katrina followed suit, a menacing whining coming from below her deep within the mech.

The mechs pulled into a rough wedge, Katrina pulling out front and leading the charge. As the mech ran over snowy terrain and past trees, she carefully forwarded movement plans to the rest of the star. They were in for a long haul - 400km of winding, rough terrain. 

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

“Watch that edge!” Barked the Star Commander as Point 3’s left leg came a little too close to the edge, rocks tumbling from the sheer ridge face. The mechs were jogging along the shallow cliff as they sought to navigate over the ridges between the reinforced star and Kinship FOB. Currently they were fifteen kilometers northeast of HAMEL and twenty minutes behind schedule. They needed to pick up the pace.

Katrina twisted her mechs torso to the side to avoid a rocky outcropping. She held her breath as she watched the top of the LB 10-X pass inches from the rock face, nearly scraping the protruding fume extractor cowling. Moments later she heard a scraping of metal from the external pickups as one of the Gorgons bumped their shoulder into the same outcropping, showering her mech with gravel.

If it was this tight for a Hunchback, she couldn't imagine how tight the road would be for the J-37s. They had the advantage of not having to deal with the outcroppings above, but they also had to be far more careful about the ground conditions. They had nearly lost one of the trucks earlier to a similar ridgeline. That truck was currently at the back of the convoy with scraped paint.

Katrina dreaded what losses they might incur if they tried to rush.

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

Two klicks out from Coen, Gorgon star had stopped for a short break. Final combat checks rattled across the BattleComms as they prepared themselves for the grinder.

“Star Commander, counter-rotate your left rotary. The belt link is hooked up in the feed mech.  Point 5, drink some water. I can hear your dry fucking mouth and it is making me thirsty. Point 3, spin your rotaries one more time? Good, all confirm final check?” Katrina rattled off, performing her own checks at the same time. EW pod was online, the angel ECM keeping them under a shroud of anti targeting systems and lidar spoofers. She fired up the bloodhound probe and watched her HUD as her own enhanced lidar systems began fully mapping the area, the secondary scanners picking up every vehicle within range. She began to tune out IFF codes.

“All green, all checks final, good to go Star Colonel,” the Star Commander responded, their RAC now rotating freely as the autoloader ejected the bent belt links from the secondary ejection port. A few 30MM autocannon rounds ejected with them, dropping into the dirt with soft thuds.

“Okay Gorgons. All checks green. We prowl!" The Star Colonel snarled into their BattleComms, kicking her own HBK-IIC up to flanking speed. The IFF pings on her radar told her the rest of the star was following behind her, spreading out into a wide wedge shape.

Within a minute they were entering the northern edge of Coen, the streets abandoned. In her 360 view Katrina watched as Gorgon star behind her torso twisted to create overlapping fields of fire.

Minutes of tedium passed before her bloodhound peaked a reactor signature. Immediately she fired an analysis wave, watching as it returned a smaller reactor signature. A 210 fusion, moving fast.

A Malak. It wouldn't be ready for them.

Confirmation clicks washed over their BattleComms like a wave.

All at once, chaos erupted.

Three more reactor signals. Fusion. 210. 270. 240. Another Malak, a Preta, and a Grigori.

The first Malak flew into the street, sparks kicking up from its feet as it turned hard into the star’s direction, skidding slightly along the pavement before catching and charging.

Katrina's TarComp blared a lock as she whipped the controls, Pushin’ Flowers twisting its torso over hard. She fired the LB 10-X at short range, the twin THOOM THOOM firing pattern of the autocannon rattling the cockpit heavily. The twin solid shots impacted the light ‘mech before it was shredded into scrap by a barrage of fire from the rest of the star.

Pushing the remaining reactor location pings to the rest of the squad, she engaged the supercharger and brought her BattleMech back up to flanking speed. A horrendous whine built in the cockpit as she charged perpendicular to the street she knew the Blakist OmniMechs would be down.

At the last second she ripped her throttle to neutral, stomping a control pedal at the same time. Her BattleMech performed a right anchor turn as she skidded along the pavement. She would have only a one second window at this speed.

The LB 10-X read green with canister munitions.

Her hands gripped the controls, sweat slicking the surfaces.

Now!

The twin resounding roar of her autocannon shook her world once again as her mech slid across the intersection and back behind another building.

The world slowed to a stop. Her heart dropped into her stomach. There in the windows she was facing, barely ten feet away, were faces.

Civilians.

Cowering, frightened, terrified.

Of what was happening. Of what they were seeing.

There were children.

Immediately she slammed the control rudder hard into the floor of the cockpit and threw the throttle all the way up, bringing her war machine to a screaming stop.

“GORGONS! CIVVIES IN THE BUILDINGS! Cubs! FIGHT WITH HONOR!”

The response was a roar.

"DIE WITH GLORY!”

The star moved up, positioning themselves opposite the street from Katrina. Momentary silence.

“I will distract the bastards!" Cheered Point 5, kicking his hunchback into movement. The ‘mech strode into the street and turned.

The rotary autocannons clicked once and begun to spin.

And then a hellacious BVVVVVVVVVV filled the air as he opened up with the twin rotaries, his mech slowly striding forwards. Aluminum casings and belt links scattered across the pavement like hail as he kept the trigger held down, lazing the torrent of shells across the three mechs that were at the far end of the street. His laughter echoed madly over the BattleComms.

Fire was returned. Lasers slagged armor away, drops of molten metal and woven diamond composite spraying to the ground. A few missiles cracked against the armor, but most flew astray the instant they entered the ECM bubble protecting the star.

Points 3 and 4 stepped into the street as well, their rotary autocannons joining the chorus of devastation that was ripping the Celestial mechs to pieces. It didn't take long for the three ‘mechs to collapse, their hulls more composed of craters than armor.

Oh so carefully, Katrina waved the civilians back from the windows. Then scooped out a small section of the wall, her mechs’ hand actuators complaining at her request to break concrete. As the wall was opened up she held out the hands of her mech, permitting the small group of civilians to transfer over.

She locked the actuators. No reason to risk it.

“We are headed back to the supply convoy to drop off the civilians and reload." 

“Aff, Star Colonel." 

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

Industrialmechs hooked ammunition feed belts into autoloader mechanisms. Thousands of rounds of ammunition rattled into emptied bins, replacing what had been expended not even twenty minutes prior.

Point 5 was having new ablative plates fast-fused to the outer layer of his ‘mechs armor.

The Star Colonel’s mech instead was being fed new ammunition from shell trays, the chain driven sleds pushing new heavy shells into the loading mechanism which fed the hungry autocannon. Each 105mm shell was accepted, sorted, and then rotated downwards, deep into the guts of her mech.

The civilians huddled at the side of one of the J-37s, near to the infantry bay. They were afraid. Cold and wet. They needed hope.

Unbuckling herself from the mech’s cockpit, she unsealed the hatch and pulled herself from Pushin' Flowers, standing up on the hull for a moment. Her power armor hummed around her. She felt the breeze, smelt the cordite on the wind. Tossing her neurohelmet back into the cockpit, she grabbed the dropline and rappelled down to the ground.

As she approached, they watched her with trepidation. She knew what sort of image she cut, but it was far more evident when faced with non combatants.

Except one child didn't flinch. They watched her with wide eyes but held no fear. As she stepped up to the group, she kneeled in the snow. A smile - normal, be normal, don't snarl - broke onto her face. Her gazed traced from the cub up to the few adults of the group that were doing their best to keep the large conglomeration under control.

She needed to say something but was lost for words. What would Nicholas-

No.

What would Alexander Kerensky say?

Pride welled in her chest as she knew what she would say.

“I am Star Colonel Katrina of the Moon bloodname. A MechWarrior of Clan Smoke Jaguar, of the Jaguar's Shadow Independent Drop Cluster. This is my rede - you will be unharmed. My transports will bring you to safety. There are shelters nearby that they will deliver you to. If we can spare it, we will leave rations and blankets.”

A pause.

"We are Smoke Jaguars, not pirates. I do not know what propaganda you have heard about us. Let our actions be the true judge of us.”

And in that moment she saw flickers of hope where once there had been despair.

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

Settling into the cockpit of her Hunchback, Katrina pulled her helmet on and immediately heard snark from the BattleComms.

“Aww, is the Star Colonel playing politician?" Jeered one of the Gorgons. Katrina frankly didn't care which one did. She would use this as a lesson.

“Yes. Because unlike you bastards with a deathwish, there is a REASON I am Star Colonel of this cluster. My job is not simply leading you all into battle. It is ensuring you are fed, your guns are loaded, that we have a place to sleep after a long fight. Did you think your bullets were FREE, you cutdown fodder? You forget the teachings of The Great Father. Alexander would be disappointed in you.” With her short rant finished, she queued up the bloodhound active probe once more. On their way back something had brushed the bare edge of her probes’ range, lighting up her sensor array with a reactor signal.

It had been a very big reactor. A 300 fusion type according to her readout. Which meant two things. Either it was an Archangel…

… or she had just detected an Omega. And judging from the reactor mass, she was going to assume it was an Omega.

“Luckily for you lot, the bloodhound picked up a large ping on the way back. We should go say hello, quiaff? Welcome them to the neighborhood."

A resounding wave of "aff”s set the star into motion once more.

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

They found the Omega and had been stalking it for the last few minutes. It was not far away from other forces and given its armor, could easily hold out until reinforcements arrived.

Katrina watched the superheavy through a ballistics hole that had punched a tunnel through a building. The ECM bubble was keeping her Hunchback and the other five behind the building next to her hidden, but they had to play it careful. There was a strong chance that they could take it down before reinforcements arrived.

Or at the very least disable the pilot. But she would need to get into the machine with her Nighthawk.

The fight was about to get complicated. 

@is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

🎵 Instrument of Surrender

For a reason that you'll see... soonish, but not today, I'm going to attempt this check again now.

BACKYARD WALL - Just an ordinary wall. Nothing to see here.

[Conceptualization - Impossible 18] Why am I looking at this wall?

+1 You have a keen aesthetic sensibility. +2 Cindy's artistic impulses are infectious. +1 Dresscode: Pseudo-SKULL

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Impossible: Failure] - Yeah, why? It's a wall, an ordinary wall.

INTERFACING - Snow covers the white-on-blue police livery of the motor carriage. The white colours nearly meld together.

Wait, why am I even thinking about this? Wasn't I supposed to…

"No time for this, gotta run." [Finish thought.]

INTERFACING - ... do something important? Something murder-related? There's always *something* important. Doesn't mean you can't take a moment to admire this piece of machinery.

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success] - This is a Coupris Kineema, the Coupris MotorCorp's follow-up to their highly successful workhorse, Coupris 40, and the answer to the LUM's racing-bred 'Fevre' series.

INTERFACING - With its air-cooled, rear-mounted twelve cylinder compression ignition engine driving the rear wheels through a four-speed manual gearbox, the Kineema is able to reach 100 kilometres per hour in 13.5 seconds. And go on to a top speed of 180 kilometres an hour.

Won't it roll over in the first sharp corner?

Turn your attention to the motor carriage itself.

Motor carriages don't interest me. [Finish thought.]

INTERFACING - The high centre of balance is offset by a large battery bank mounted at the bottom of the cabin, feeding all the auxiliary systems and making the Kineema effectively a mobile power plant.

This tech-talk is really rubbing me the right way here.

Turn your attention to the motor carriage itself.

+1 Torque Dork

INTERFACING - Due to a quite steep price tag it is very unusual to see one in police livery.

COUPRIS KINEEMA - Even at a standstill the uni-body Coupris Kineema looks sleek and dynamic. The cabin is tilted frontward to give it a more aggressive *hunched* look.

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Easy: Success] - Someone has waxed it recently.

"That machine really puts the 'loco' back in 'locomotion'!" (Point to the vehicle.) "Very cool."

"I don't like your machine, lieutenant. Looks impractical."

(Shrug.) "A motor carriage. One of many."

Actually motor carriages don't interest me. [Finish thought.]

+1 Torque Dork

KIM KITSURAGI - "Mhmh." The lieutenant smiles ever so slightly. "You want to take a closer look?"

"What's it packing there?" (Point to the engine.)

"What in there made the infernal whining sound that woke me?"

"A fine machine..." (Run your hand over the smooth metal surface.)

"Okay, let's move." [Leave.]

KIM KITSURAGI - "Hundred-and-thirty."

INTERFACING - I reckon that's a seven-litre V12 there.

"That's what..." (Rub your chin.) "... a seven-litre V12?"

(Let out a whistle.) "Momma's serving some serious macaroni."

"Oh, I thought it would make more."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Seven-point-two. Supercharged." The lieutenant is trying to suppress a smug smile. Unsuccessfully.

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - Saying these words brings him immense joy.

2. "What in there made the infernal whining sound that woke me?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "You mean the coil noise?"

"What is 'coil noise'?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "When variable current passes through wires that make up the coils on the electrical systems on this machine -- it causes vibration in the wires and the cores of the coils."

"When the frequency of the current in the coils falls within the audible range the resulting vibration creates the *whiny sound* you mentioned."

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT [Medium: Success] - What a binoclard!

SUGGESTION [Easy: Success] - Whatever you do, don't make fun of the lieutenant for explaining this to you.

"You are such a binoclard, Kim."

"Wow... how do you know all that?"

"Mhmh, that's exactly what I thought."

KIM KITSURAGI - "I have pretty much maintained my vehicles by myself ever since one was assigned to me. You inevitably pick up some knowledge on the way."

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - There's pride in there. A trained driver, *knows* his ride.

3. "A fine machine…" (Run your hand over the smooth metal surface.)

KIM KITSURAGI - "Yes." There's gentleness in the lieutenant's voice as his eyes run over the vehicle's contours. "An extraordinary machine."

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Easy: Success] - It's nice and all, but why so modest? Put some zing into it. Flare it up. Slam it down!

VISUAL CALCULUS [Medium: Success] - Helium headlights would improve the range and quality of the visual field a lot.

AUTHORITY [Easy: Success] - It's a bit *girly* right now. Fit it with some proper off-road components.

"You need to *slam* it, Kim. Make it more imposing."

"Ever thought about switching to helium headlights?"

"With a winch and mud tyres we could take it off the beaten path, Kim."

"Okay, enough about the details."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Sorry, I'm not following you?"

INTERFACING - Lingo it up.

"Drop the ride *two hundo mill*, get the camber to frosty-frosty minuses..."

"I'm not either. Don't know why I said that."

KIM KITSURAGI - "No, that's... *porno*-tuning."

HALF LIGHT [Medium: Success] - USE BIGGER WORDS!!!

"It needs a *MASSIVE* aero-kit and *GARGANTUAN* roof-mounted..."

"Trust me, it's cool."

"It's what?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "Porno. That's short for pornography."

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] - The sole purpose of 'pornography' is to stimulate one's visual sense to evoke sexual arousal -- the same is true with the modifications you're proposing.

"So? What's wrong with pornography?"

"Pornograpy is something completely different, Kim."

"Alright, I guess it did get a bit porny there."

KIM KITSURAGI - "That's a negative on the porno. Thank you, though."

VOLITION [Easy: Success] - No one in the history of convictions has been more sure of *anything*.

3. "With a winch and mud tyres we could take it off the beaten path, Kim."

KIM KITSURAGI - "We are not going to though, because this is clearly a *sports* motor carriage." Sounds like he has a strong concept of what this machine is.

2. "Ever thought about switching to helium headlights?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "Actually, I have a pair at home -- just haven't gotten around to fitting them yet. I need to lay some wiring for the ballasts first..."

"If we ever get this case solved, maybe we can do it together?"

"Sounds like a hassle, but good luck."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Maybe," he replies with an apologetic smile and nods. "Yes, definitely maybe."

RHETORIC [Medium: Success] - ... and means *no*.

Didn't *quite* know enough about the engine to convince him there, unfortunately.

4. "Okay, let's move." [Leave.]

🎵 Martinaise, Terminal B

CARGO CONTAINER DOOR - You're back before the cargo container. Its draw has not lessened since you were last here. If anything, it seems to have grown slightly.

3. [Rhetoric - Impossible 18] Persuade the door to open.

+1 Erratic, yet thorough. +1 Been in the world for two days. +1 Been in the world for many days. +1 One more door.

RHETORIC [Impossible: Success] - Aaaaand as it's always been -- it's impossible to open a container with rhetoric. Maybe you're losing your mind?

Knock on the door.

CARGO CONTAINER DOOR - No reply.

PERCEPTION (HEARING) [Medium: Success] - The knock produces a hollow ring of metal. Doesn't sound like there's anything inside the container.

2. Open the door.

CARGO CONTAINER DOOR - You attempt to turn the handle, to no avail. The doors seem to be mechanically locked.

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Trivial: Success] - To your left, the lieutenant considers your actions -- with some puzzlement.

4. Nothing more to do here for now. [Leave.]

None of that helped, but we're not necessarily done there.

🎵 Evrart's Theme

This is not a fishing rod, is it? It's...

REACTION SPEED - Is that an Insulindian phasmid? It looks like an Insulindian phasmid. Quick -- catch it before it scuttles away!

"Stop right there!"

Pirouette toward the phasmid.

Creep up to the phasmid quietly.

Wait a moment. Is that really the phasmid? You don't want to make a fool out of yourself.

FISHING ROD - Beautiful leap! But this isn't a phasmid in your hand -- it is a fishing rod.

EVRART CLAIRE - "What are you trying to accomplish, Harry?"

"Uh, it's a novel fishing method."

"Sorry, I thought the fishing rod was... something else."

"I was just trying to surprise you. To throw you off, you know."

EVRART CLAIRE - "Well, you certainly succeeded, Harry." He adjust himself in the chair. "You are a very surprising police officer indeed."

EVRART CLAIRE - "Mr. Du Bois, 'Every worker...'?" He leans toward you, waiting for your to complete his sentence.

"... a member of the board?"

"... is a living god!"

"... is an organ in the great state organism of war! Also, looks just like *me*."

"… for himself!"

EVRART CLAIRE - "That's right, Mr. Du Bois!" He nods in approval. "I see the socialist-democratic fervour now burns in your heart too. How can I help you today?"

"I'm looking for a cell of underground communists. Can you help me?"

"I opened the door you asked me. Can we discuss the murder now?"

"Let's talk about my lost gun."

"I did it, Evrart -- I made it even shadier."

"A few more things regarding Joyce..."

"What's in the container that's outside your office?"

"Evrart, I'm going to leave now, but we might talk again later." [Leave.]

EVRART CLAIRE - "Mr. Du Bois, really. Do I look like a man who has time for *underground* communists? I'm as aboveground as it gets!"

LOGIC [Medium: Success] - That's a non sequitur if you've ever heard one!

"Let's drop the funny stuff. I'm trying to make contact with my revolutionary brethren."

EVRART CLAIRE - "Sure thing, Harry. We're *all business* now. The answer is still 'no'. I'm a busy man, as you can see. I don't block off time on my schedule for 'underground' types..."

DRAMA [Medium: Success] - That note of contempt in his voice is sincere, sssire.

EVRART CLAIRE - "You've already spoken with Mañana, as I understand. I'm afraid I don't have anything else for you on *this subject*..."

RHETORIC - That's all you're going to get out of him, it appears.

EVRART CLAIRE - "Now, was there anything else you wished to discuss today?"

"I opened the door you asked me. Can we discuss the murder now?"

EVRART CLAIRE - "I'm very glad to hear that, Harry," he says with a smile. "One question: you didn't actually happen to stumble in and see what's inside the apartment, did you?"

Task complete: Open apartment door for Evrart

+70 XP

Level up!

DRAMA [Medium: Success] - He's trying to figure out if you're lying.

SUGGESTION [Easy: Success] - There is no way to sway this man in any direction. He is un-suggestable and un-swayable. Just tell the truth.

"I *may have* gone inside and seen a collection of racist mugs."

"I did go inside. Weasel had the flag of the Old Revachol on his wall."

"The deal wasn't for me to go inside, so I didn't."

EVRART CLAIRE - "Just as I thought. Culturally antiquated mug collection. What a weasel..." He shakes his head. "*Pissing* on Evrart's Rainbow Coalition."

DRAMA - He *was* testing you. And you succeeded.

EVRART CLAIRE - "Now let's get down to brass tacks. It's time for men like me and you to figure out who's killed who and why." He pretends to roll up his sleeves. "Real police work is gonna start happening now. I promise you, Harry, this is gonna be good."

"I've heard about a connection between the lynching and the strike. I'd like to hear what you know about it."

EVRART CLAIRE - "By now I'm *sure* you've figured out who the dead man was working for -- the bad guys. Wild Pines. Sent to scare us. Another *violent measure* of the top hats against us flat caps."

"I'm listening."

EVRART CLAIRE - "Harry, this strike is the culmination of many *many*, mistakes made by the Wild Pines Group. They tried to shut the strike down by sending in armed mercenaries."

KIM KITSURAGI - "You mean our victim?"

EVRART CLAIRE - He nods gravely. "A security contractor. Can you imagine that? Workers standing in peaceful protest -- united in the spirit of fellowship! -- and they send hired killers to *mow* us down with machine gun fire."

COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - He performs a motion, as if spraying bullets from a machine gun.

EVRART CLAIRE - "I'm talking *beasts*, hardened killers from proxy wars in Yeesut, Semenine, Saramiriza -- you name it, they've done it. Raping, killing, burning villages -- killing little children for the Señorita Pineapple company, Harry..."

"Everything they did there, they brought over here. They want to turn Revachol into a Third World slum. Honestly, the only thing they didn't do, is kill the village elephant."

"Hold on, you have a village elephant?"

"Go on."

"I think I've heard enough."

EVRART CLAIRE - "No, Harry, the elephant is metaphorical and so is the village, but the mercs -- and their brutality -- are very real."

"Go on."

EVRART CLAIRE - "Now, I haven't *personally* witnessed the brutalities out there. I have the luxury of staying in my container, you see -- if I need to go somewhere, they just move my container." He laughs.

"Wait, they move the container?"

"Go on."

EVRART CLAIRE - "Yes! I'm an old man, Harry. My legs aren't what they used to be. They lift my office with that big crane. It's actually very fun, you should try it."

"But enough about me and my fun container." His face turns serious. "The killers the company hired… I think there were three of them. All hardened commando-types."

"One of them got downright suicidal. Getting drunk, violent, a little rapey..." He shakes his head. "Even their own negotiator couldn't control him. That's your boy, the one who likes *hanging out* and trees."

KIM KITSURAGI - "By *negotiator* you mean Joyce?"

EVRART CLAIRE - "Harry," he says, ignoring the lieutenant, "what you need to realize is -- we dockworkers are not pushovers."

"We got grit, Harry -- this whole neighbourhood does. Push us hard enough and we push back -- and when we do..." He raises his finger. "We push to kill."

"Wait, the whole *neighbourhood* is in on it?"

"Who exactly did the *pushing*?"

EVRART CLAIRE - "Potentially, Harry, potentially. We got arm wrestling champions, rowing club people, ex-coal miners -- tough guys, all ready to spring into action for their home base."

"Who exactly did the *pushing*?"

EVRART CLAIRE - "There's a militant wing inside the Union. A group of people whose duties don't involve manual labour, but peacekeeping in the neighbourhood. Making sure everything runs smoothly."

LOGIC [Medium: Success] - That sounds a bit like organized crime.

EVRART CLAIRE - "They're like you guys," he nods to you and the lieutenant. "Idealistic people who want to make sure bad things don't happen. And if they already have... well, punishment must follow."

LOGIC - Again: that sounds like organized crime.

KIM KITSURAGI - "So these *idealists* killed our victim?"

EVRART CLAIRE - "Mhmh. One day Titus Hardie -- leader of this peacekeeping faction -- comes up to me and says: 'Boss, socialist-democratic fervour drove us to take it upon ourselves to kill this beast that was burdening the land.'"

"He probably worded it differently, but that was the idea. Sure sounded to me like they killed him." He chuckles. "I gave them two weeks paid leave and told them to lay low to avoid retaliation."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Aren't you worried we might arrest them for this?"

EVRART CLAIRE - "Oh, I'm not *at all* worried about that. These are not the kind of men who get arrested. They're Martinaise boys, tough and gritty. I'd like to see the man who takes them in." He chuckles. "Besides I sent my lawyergirl to look after them."

EMPATHY [Challenging: Success]- Despite his boastful tone, he's having doubts about something -- but what?

Maybe he doesn't believe the boys *really* had it in them. They're his boys after all.

"I think you're sharing information with the police, because you don't think they *actually* did it."

"Okay. Another question."

EVRART CLAIRE - "That's very clever, Harry. Yes. They might have said it just to impress some girls or something." He rubs his chin. "But Titus has a bad temper, so the chances are 50-50."

+5 XP

DRAMA [Medium: Success] - He thinks it's closer to 60-40. 60 they didn't do it.

"I want to hear again about how the lynching and the strike are connected."

"There was a bullet in the hanged man's head."

"How do you know the mercenaries were hired by the shipping company?"

"You mentioned a *lawyergirl*?"

"Tell me about Titus Hardie and his crew."

"Good talk. Let's conclude for now."

EVRART CLAIRE - "So they shot him?" He sounds pleasantly surprised.

KIM KITSURAGI - "He was shot in the head *before* he was hanged."

EVRART CLAIRE - "How odd." The man shrugs. "I don't know what to say, lieutenant. They told me they hanged him. A hanged man is what I saw when I took a look into that yard..."

DRAMA [Medium: Success] - It's impossible to say if he's telling the truth, sire.

EVRART CLAIRE - "What I *do* know is -- the case is in safe hands. If anyone can get to the bottom of this shot-and-hanged-man, it's my two little policemen. Godspeed, policemen!"

3. "How do you know the mercenaries were hired by the shipping company?"

EVRART CLAIRE - "How do I know? Let me tell you about these people." He slams his fist on the desk. "That's their MO. It's what they do."

"Last winter some poor workers in Terminal E went on a little strike. The company sent in *Sediment* -- a security contractor. The strike was over the workers' right to wear protective footwear, Harry."

"These guys turn up and start beating people. Tell you what, Harry, I wouldn't be surprised if we got the same mercenary company -- after a little *rebranding*. And I'm sure as hell not surprised to see an army of scabs under my gates."

KIM KITSURAGI - "So you believe the scabs were organized by the security contractor?"

EVRART CLAIRE - "You said it. Hell..." The fist slams on the desk again. "... one of those guys looks big enough to take down that proverbial elephant! Boys like that don't just *happen* to show up during strikes."

"The name of the company is Krenel this time. It might have been Sediment before."

"Another question."

EVRART CLAIRE - "Of course, you're always one step ahead of me, Harry. I'm no genius. I'm in this position because people *like* me."

"The remaining mercenaries are organizing a tribunal to take on the Hardies."

"Let's change the subject."

EVRART CLAIRE - "Tribunal?" He appears aghast. "That sounds *serious* Harry. We Union men should be *shitting* ourselves..." He rubs his chin and smiles suddenly: "I wish you hadn't told me that. I'm gonna lose *sleep* over this. Let's change the subject."

EMPATHY [Trivial: Success] - He's clearly happy about the tribunal.

"You don't *seem* too worried about it."

"Okay. Yes."

EVRART CLAIRE - "Oh, Harry, what do I *really* think about the tribunal? You're trying to climb to second base with old Evrart before you've even courted him properly."

+5 XP

RHETORIC [Easy: Success] - He wants you to do more *things* for him before.

4. "You mentioned a *lawyergirl*?"

EVRART CLAIRE - "Oh, Liz is a bright one!" He grins broadly. "I paid for that law degree myself, thinking it'll probably turn her all fancy, but hell, Harry -- she came back a firebrand socialist! Sometimes she scares *me* with her zeal."

5. "Tell me about Titus Hardie and his crew."

EVRART CLAIRE - "Oh, they are simply fine young men -- all seven of them! Exemplary Union members. Always working to advance their position in the local socialist-democratic movement. Core members."

"Old Theo used to run them, but things really *kicked into gear* when Titus took the reins and named the group after himself." He starts laughing. "Gotta love his initiative."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Interesting. Who's second in command?"

EVRART CLAIRE - "They're almost all of them *great* guys, born leaders. Whatever happened, I'm sure they only had the best interests of Martinaise and Revachol in mind."

"Work with them -- hell, interview them! But don't fight them. They really are just like you -- men who like beer, women, and some *order* on the streets."

AUTHORITY [Medium: Success] - That's him *allowing* the police to ask his men questions.

LOGIC [Challenging: Success] - He's betting on them being useless to you.

6. "Evrart, I met these Hardies. Can you ask them to cooperate with me?"

EVRART CLAIRE - "But of course! It's the least I can do for my good friend, Harry. I'll do it right after we've concluded this talk."

+5 XP

AUTHORITY [Trivial: Success] - You can now go and tell Titus about this. See what he has to say.

EVRART CLAIRE - "Also, Harry, here's five reál." He holds out a banknote.

"Wait, why are you giving it to me?"

Take it.

"I don't need it, I only wanted you to help me with the Hardie boys."

EVRART CLAIRE - "I'm not giving you anything. I'm just holding out five reál."

VOLITION [Easy: Success] - Needless to say, this is another *move*. Don't take it.

We also just genuinely do not need more money. This will still make talking to the Hardies easier.

2. "I don't need it, I only wanted you to help me with the Hardie boys."

EVRART CLAIRE - "Oh, I wasn't offering it to you, just holding it out there." He pockets the bill. "But I am willing to share *information*. Was there anything else?"

+1 Honour +1 Reputation

7. "Good talk. Let's conclude for now."

EVRART CLAIRE - "*Was* it a good talk?" He leans back, suddenly worried. "I'm not sure we made much headway here. I was hoping we'd bust the case wide open, heck, I even wanted to tell you what I *really* want to achieve with the strike..."

"I don't know what happened, Harry. I wanted you to feel like Mr. Martinaise! And, of course -- I also wanted you to *find your gun*." Great sadness comes over him. "But... it's like I can't completely trust you. Yet."

"Yet?"

EVRART CLAIRE - "Yes, Harry. It's like I can't *fully* trust you if you're not a man of the left," he says, slowly shaking his head. "I *want* to, but I just can't..."

RHETORIC [Easy: Success] - A man of the left? So you have to be a social democrat?

EMPATHY [Trivial: Success] - He's been *hurt* too much in the past -- by men who aren't *social democrats*.

"I am not a 'man of the left'. I'm a patriot of Revachol."

"You're right not to trust me. I take care of *me*. I'm a hustler. I grind. I'm a money engineer."

"What's that supposed to mean?! I'm more left than *you* are."

"This is another corrupt scheme, isn't it? I'm neither left nor right. I do what my *heart* tells me to do."

+1 Communism

EVRART CLAIRE - "You're saying it, but I don't believe you. You know how it is -- company snitches, *agent provocateurs* everywhere... I'm barricaded in this fortress of mine, and I need to get a message out. Will you help me?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "And what would this entail?"

EVRART CLAIRE - "Once again I require nothing unethical or illegal of you. You just need to get two little signatures on this piece of paper." He pulls out an envelope. "And then mail it to my accountant in La Delta."

"Kim, what do you think of this?"

"What are the signatures for?"

"Fine, if I happen to be there, I can ask them." (Accept the task.)

"No, I'm not going to do this." (Reject the task.)

KIM KITSURAGI - "It depends. I don't think what we just got from Mr. Claire was very useful." He studies Evrart.

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Easy: Success] - But, he thinks, it's your call.

EVRART CLAIRE - "As I said, it weighs on me heavily..." He bows his head in shame, then looks up and smiles: "But once we get *really* talking... well, I'm gonna hand you the keys to Martinaise! And maybe even help you figure out who's behind this killing."

RHETORIC [Medium: Success] - He's saying as little as possible as vaguely as he can. Deliberately omitting things.

2. "What are the signatures for?"

EVRART CLAIRE - "I'm glad you asked, Harry -- the Union is going to build a modern youth centre in Martinaise!" He grins broadly. "It will be *righteous*. We're gonna get those teenagers off drugs -- and *on* roller skates!"

"There's a nameless little street on the coast with some old houses around it. Most people have already signed. I just need *two* more signatures to get this mission off the ground, Harry."

3. "You mean the fishing village?"

EVRART CLAIRE - "Yes, yes, the little cul-de-sac on the coast. Where all the men have drowned -- in either the sea or the bottle. A gloomy place, doesn't have that Union attitude."

4. "What will happen to the current occupants?"

EVRART CLAIRE - "They're just gonna have to deal with the construction noise for six months and then they'll be living like kings -- right next to a fancy new youth centre, designed by the best architects from Stella Maris."

RHETORIC [Medium: Success] - Is he absolutely sure the tenants won't be thrown out in the street?

"Are you 100% sure no one's going to end up homeless?"

"Sounds like everybody wins."

EVRART CLAIRE - "Am I...?" The big man shakes his head in disbelief. "Harry, these people... Martinaise is the most important thing in my life. I would never let anything bad happen to them."

"We're gonna build a youth centre there. The value of their properties goes up and kids have a place to play in. I'm looking out for these people, not pulling the rug from under them, Harry. I'm looking out for all of Martinaise, not just the harbour."

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - He means it.

5. "Fine, if I happen to be there, I can ask them." (Accept the task.)

I don't see any problems with this, and it's the only way to get a lead on our gun.

EVRART CLAIRE - "You bring joy to my heart, Harry -- such a pleasure to be working with you. Here..." He hands you an open white envelope.

Item gained: White Envelope

"You need to get signatures from Isobel Sadie and Lilienne Carter. The cul-de-sac is right past the pawnshop and across the canal. I heard there was some trouble with the water lock, but it should be fixed now."

"Once you have the signatures, mail this to 13022 La Rocca in La Delta. *Then* I'll know you're a solid socialist." He runs his fingers through his thin hair.

New task: Get two signatures for Evrart

2. "Let's talk about my lost gun."

EVRART CLAIRE - "Yes, yes, my best men are tracking it down. Some kids saw some other kids running away with it. Some folks said a paranoid schizophrenic might have it. Leads are being checked, Harry."

"What's that, Harry? You're getting a little pale. Is it the words *paranoid schizophrenic* and *lost gun* in one sentence? Don't worry, it's just a lead. It'll probably turn out to be nothing."

4. "I did it, Evrart -- I made it even shadier."

EVRART CLAIRE - "What?" The big man looks at you surprised.

"The brew! The shady, shady brew."

EVRART CLAIRE - "Oh, how could I forget your little side-project! Well done, Harry. Well done! Don't even tell me what it was. But good job! I love it when workers take the initiative like this."

+5 XP

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Medium: Success] - So do I. That's one tasty brew, you should drink some right now if you can!

4. "A few more things regarding Joyce..."

EVRART CLAIRE - "Great! You wanna bounce something off your old friend, Mr. Claire, right?" He seems genuinely pleased. "Well, let's hear it, Harry!"

Only one new dialogue option here...

2. "I told Joyce that I met you."

EVRART CLAIRE - "It's *perfectly* okay. Even if you've told her everything we've talked about, it's *absolutely* fine."

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - He seems happy about the prospect of you telling Joyce about your conversations.

"It sounds like you *want* me to tell her about our conversations."

"Okay, that's cool."

EVRART CLAIRE - "No, no, Harry. I'm perfectly neutral *and* one hundred percent for transparency. I know people say a lot of bad things about the Débardeurs Union, but we are actually," -- he squeaks his chair -- "squeaky clean."

+5 XP

EMPATHY - Yes, he really doesn't seem to mind.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Hmh..." The lieutenant seems incredulous.

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Easy: Success] - Sure, he thinks. It's about *transparency*.

7. "Okay, let's talk about something else." (Conclude.)

EVRART CLAIRE - "Absolutely, Harry! What's on your mind?"

"I mailed the signatures you asked me to get." (Lie.)

EVRART CLAIRE - "No, you didn't." He waves you off with a chuckle. "I know the mail-man, Harry. I know everyone and everything that happens in this town and I *know* there's no letter in that mailbox yet."

"Just like I *know* you'll get it done. Once you stop horsing around." He nods reassuringly. "Let me know when it's done."

5. "Evrart, I'm going to leave now, but we might talk again later." [Leave.]

EVRART CLAIRE - "See you soon, débardeur!" The big man raises his hand in farewell. "Just kidding. But not too much."

WHITE ENVELOPE

A white envelope with a stamp attached to the upper-right corner, handed to you by Evrart Claire. Inside are some legal documents with two names printed on them: Isobel Sadie and Lilienne Carter. Both signatures are required.

>INTERACT

WHITE ENVELOPE- You take the legal documents out of the envelope: a 12-40 month construction period and the zoning plan in the addendum.

Look at the zoning plan.

"Kim, what do you think of this?"

[Logic - Medium 11] Try to find a loophole in the deal.

Put the documents back in the envelope. [Leave.]

WHITE ENVELOPE- The youth centre cuts into the ocean like the bow of some great modern ship. Apparently it's going to cover most -- if not all -- of the street and the square between the existing houses. It's three storeys tall.

VISUAL CALCULUS [Medium: Success] - It's going to be awfully close to the already existing buildings. Almost wall to wall, practically integrating them into the youth centre.

INLAND EMPIRE [Easy: Success] - This is either an ominous or cool architectural choice -- hard to say.

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] - My money is on cool. Looks like a cubic pyrite.

2. "Kim, what do you think of this?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "I'm no property lawyer, but it looks fine," the lieutenant replies, flipping through the documents. "I like the print size. They're not selling or leasing anything. It's not a perfect solution, but..." He shrugs.

RHETORIC [Medium: Success] - ...how else are you going to build something? It's always inconvenient to build things, and citizens inevitably have disagreements over such construction projects, but there's no other way.

You know what, let's not stand right in front of Evrart while we do the next thing.

3. [Logic - Medium 11] Try to find a loophole in the deal.

+1 Centre's very dclose to houses. +1 Ominous shape. -1 Cool cubic pyrite.

LOGIC [Medium: Success] - There is no loophole. The simple truth is the current residents are going to lose their street access and for the next 12-40 months their lives will be dominated by constant construction noise right next door.

Wait, what are the ramifications of this?

"Look, Kim..." (Point to the photocopy.) "These people are going to have to move away. Can we do something about it?"

"The noise will be tough on the villagers, but I guess that's just the cost of progress."

LOGIC - Once the construction starts it'll probably take a few months -- a year maybe -- for even the most stubborn occupants to get tired of living like this. After that they'll sell their property for cheap and move out.

"Look, Kim..." (Point to the photocopy.) "These people are going to have to move away. Can we do something about it?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "I should have seen it." The lieutenant frowns as he reads over the document again.

"Evrart probably has eyes on us, but..." He pauses to think. "We could try to get other people to sign this instead of those listed. *Or* you could forge their signatures yourself. By the time he finds out, we'll already be gone."

Attempting to forge the signature has a -10 penalty, as Evrart's people could be watching us here. If we're going to attempt this, we'll need to do it somewhere else. Or Kim's other suggestion might be easier...

[jumpywhumpywriter]

A Life in the Hands of the Enemy -- Villain reluctantly saves Hero's Life part 25

Warnings: captivity whump, cruel Villain whumper, forced living weapon, captive Hero whumpee, shock collars, fight scene

She scrambled to get back up, but Supervillain was on her in an instant, violently pummeling her with blow after blow, not giving her a chance to recover.

Amber was slammed to the ground every time she got halfway up, more vicious attacks making their marks. She had both of her daggers in hand, but they were useless against Supervillain's gauntlets.

A particularly nasty kick in the ribs sent her skidding across the floor with a wheeze. She could hear her own bones crack under the impact.

Groaning, Amber rolled onto her stomach, using her forearms to push herself up. She lifted her head, hair caked with blood, and her eyes went wide as she saw Supervillain pointing a futuristic gun-looking device on his gauntlet straight at her. There was a high whining sound that filled the air, making her hair stand on end, and she watched in terror as the end of the gun began to glow.

Amber couldn't take her eyes away, frozen in fear as she looked into the face of death, Supervillain's cold, impassive smile looking down on her.

"HERO!" Someone was shouting her cover name, she could barely hear it over the blood roaring in her ears -- the voice was muffled and warped, like it was underwater. She probably had a severe concussion, her head pounding with pain.

And then, there was a flash of movement in front of her, a physical barrier blocking her line of sight. Time seemed to slow to a crawl.

Through the haze, Amber saw Zack drop to a knee in front of her crumpled form, putting himself as a physical barrier between her and Supervillain. He pulled something from his belt and held it in front of him, and a pale blue shield came into existence.

That's when Supervillain's gauntlet went off. Pure electricity fired out of it, engulfing Zack's shield in wild, untamed power. The air buzzed with energy, supercharged. Zack's shield took the full force of it, and after a second it shattered, still successfully cushioning the attack to a degree as the electricity slammed into him, sending him hurtling backwards over Amber's head.

A streak of electricity sizzled and struck Amber, making her cry out in pain. But suddenly... the shock collar on her neck sparked, and fell off entirely. The blast had destroyed it. She was free.

Amber touched her neck in surprise, before turning and looking straight at Zack with wide eyes and dawning realization.

Zack was horrified, staring back at her as he picked himself up from the floor. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. His only form of leverage and control was gone, just like that.

But to his surprise, Amber's face twisted with determination, and before he could even blink, she was launching herself at Supervillain again, attacking relentlessly to drive him back and gain an advantage. Why was she still fighting alongside him when she could run away now? He wondered in disbelief. It didn't make any sense. If he were in her shoes, he would be ten blocks away already. It was the smart, logical choice, to escape while she could. SO WHY WASN'T SHE CHOOSING IT?!

"Hey! Head in the game!" Amber's barking voice snapped him out of the trance, and he watched her dodge another blow from Supervillain. "Are you going to help or not?!"

Zack forced his broken body into motion, dragging himself forward to assist.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @i-don't-know-sal @togzy

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

The Definition of Acceleration

Read this thru slowly and try to comprehend the amount of force produced in just under 4 seconds! There are no rockets or airplanes built by any government in the world that can accelerate from a standing start as fast as a Top Fuel Dragster or Funny Car!

DEFINITION OF ACCELERATION

One top fuel dragster 500 cubic-inch Hemi engine makes more horsepower than the first 4 rows of stock cars at the Daytona 500.

It takes just 15/100ths of a second for all 6,000+ horsepower of an NHRA Top Fuel dragster engine to reach the rear wheels.

Under full throttle, a dragster engine consumes 1-1/2 gallons of nitro methane per second; a fully-loaded 747 consumes jet fuel at the same rate with 25% less energy being produced. 

A stock, Dodge Hemi, V8 engine cannot produce enough power to drive the dragster's supercharger. 

With 3,000 CFM of air being rammed in by the supercharger on overdrive, the fuel mixture is compressed into a near-solid form before ignition. 

Cylinders run on the verge of hydraulic lock at full throttle. 

At the stoichiometric (stoichiometry: methodology and technology by which quantities of reactants and products in chemical reactions are determined) 1.7:1 air/fuel mixture of nitro methane, the flame front temperature measures 7,050 deg. F.

Nitro methane burns yellow... The spectacular white flame seen above the stacks at night is raw burning hydrogen, dissociated from atmospheric water vapor by the searing exhaust gases. 

Dual magnetos supply 44 amps to each spark plug. This is the output of an arc welder in each cylinder. 

Spark plug electrodes are totally consumed during a pass. After halfway, the engine is dieseling from compression, plus the glow of exhaust valves at 1,400 deg F.  The engine can only be shut down by cutting the fuel flow.

If spark momentarily fails early in the run, unburned nitro builds up in the affected cylinders and then explodes with sufficient force to blow cylinder heads off the block in pieces or split the block in half.

In order to exceed 300 mph in 4.5 seconds, dragsters must accelerate an average of over 4G's. In order to reach 200 mph (well before half-track), the launch acceleration approaches 8G's. 

Dragsters reach over 300 miles per hour before you have completed reading this sentence. 

Top fuel engines turn approximately 540 revolutions from light to light!  Including the burnout, the engine must only survive 900 revolutions under load.

The redline is actually quite high at 9,500 rpm.

Assuming all the equipment is paid for, the crew worked for free, and for once NOTHING BLOWS UP, each run costs an estimate $1,000.00 per second.

The current top fuel dragster elapsed time record is 4.428 seconds for the quarter mile (11/12/06, Tony Schumacher, at Pomona, CA). The top speed record is 336.15 mph as measured over the last 66' of the run

Putting all of this into perspective:

You are driving the average $140,000 Lingenfelter, 'twin-turbo' powered, Corvette Z06. Over a mile up the road, a top fuel dragster is staged and ready to launch down a quarter mile strip as you pass. You have the advantage of a flying start. You run the 'Vette hard up through the gears and blast across the starting line and pass the dragster at an honest 200 mph. The 'tree' goes green for both of you at that moment. 

The dragster launches and starts after you. You keep your foot down hard, but you hear an incredibly brutal whine that sears your eardrums and within 3 seconds, the dragster catches and passes you. He beats you to the finish line, a quarter mile away from where you just passed him.

Think about it, from a standing start, the dragster had spotted you 200 mph and not only caught, but nearly blasted you off the road when he passed you within a mere 1,320 foot long race course. 

...... and that my friend, is ACCELERATION!

[guitarhappyman]

What 10,000 horsepower does to a top fuel tire at launch.

TOP FUEL ACCELERATION PUT INTO PERSPECTIVE

* One Top Fuel dragster 500 cubic-inch Hemi engine makes more horsepower (10,000 HP) than the first 5 rows at the Daytona 500.

* Under full throttle, a dragster engine consumes 1.2-1.5 gallons of nitro methane per second; a fully loaded 747 consumes jet fuel at the same rate with 25% less energy being produced.

* A stock Dodge Hemi V8 engine cannot produce enough power to merely drive the dragster's supercharger.

* With 3000 CFM of air being rammed in by the supercharger on overdrive, the fuel mixture is compressed into a near-solid form before ignition. Cylinders run on the verge of hydraulic lock at full throttle.

* At the stoichiometric 1.7:1 air/fuel mixture for nitro methane the flame front temperature measures 7050 degrees F.

* Nitromethane burns yellow. The spectacular white flame seen above the stacks at night is raw burning hydrogen, dissociated from atmospheric water vapor by the searing exhaust gases.

* Dual magnetos supply 44 amps to each spark plug.

This is the output of an arc welder in each cylinder.

* Spark plug electrodes are totally consumed during a pass. After 1/2 way, the engine is dieseling from compression plus the glow of exhaust valves at 1400 degrees F. The engine can only be shut down by cutting the fuel flow.

* If spark momentarily fails early in the run, unburned nitro builds up in the affected cylinders and then explodes with sufficient force to blow cylinder heads off the block in pieces or split the block in half.

* Dragsters reach over 300 MPH before you have completed reading this sentence.

* In order to exceed 300 MPH in 4.5 seconds, dragsters must accelerate an average of over 4 G's. In order to reach 200 MPH well before half-track, the launch acce leration approaches 8 G's.

* Top Fuel engines turn approximately 540 revolutions from light to light!

* Including the burnout, the engine must only survive 900 revolutions under load.

* The redline is actually quite high at 9500 RPM.

* THE BOTTOM LINE: Assuming all the equipment is paid off, the crew worked for free, & for once, NOTHING BLOWS UP, each run costs an estimated $1,000 per second.

0 to 100 MPH in .8 seconds (the first 60 feet of the run)

0 to 200 MPH in 2.2 seconds (the first 350 feet of the run)

6 g-forces at the starting line (nothing accelerates faster on land)

6 negative g-forces upon deployment of twin ‘chutes at 300 MPH An NHRA Top Fuel Dragster accelerates quicker than any other land vehicle on earth . . quicker than a jet fighter plane . . . quicker than the space shuttle.

The current Top Fuel dragster elapsed time record is 4.420 seconds for the quarter-mile (2004, Doug Kalitta). The top speed record is 337.58 MPH as measured over the last 66' of the run (2005, Tony Schumacher).

Putting this all into perspective:

You are driving the average $140,000 Lingenfelter twin-turbo powered Corvette Z06. Over a mile up the road, a Top Fuel dragster is staged & ready to launch down a quarter-mile strip as you pass. You have the advantage of a flying start. You run the 'Vette hard up through the gears and blast across the starting line & pass the dragster at an honest 200 MPH. The 'tree' goes green for both of you at that moment.

The dragster launches & starts after you. You keep your foot down hard, but you hear an incredibly brutal whine that sears your eardrums & within 3 seconds the dragster catches & passes you.

He beats you to the finish line, a quarter-mile away from where you just passed him. Think about it - from a standing start, the dragster had spotted you 200 MPH & not only caught, but nearly blasted you off the road when he passed you within a mere 1320 foot long race!

That's acceleration!

[hazbincalifornia]

I take it Alastor was very much not used being stuffed in THAT way? Imagine if Stella decided to show him what it's like to be triply full: full pussy, full womb, full belly of whatever meat he binged on

So, fun fact, I was talking to a friend about that very thing the other day...

___

"You can handle it, can't you, honey?" Her fingers twist it just slightly as it slides in and out, and he feels his thighs tremble. He saw how big it was in her hand, and now there's only the end left, the rest wriggled inside him bit by agonizingly-sensitive bit, every solitary inch obvious with each breath he took. He could hear her tail swishing from somewhere behind her. "I know it's new, but you always seemed to have so much fun teasing me, surely you can take what you dish out."

"Of course I caN-" His voice distorts as she flicks something and it starts to purr, vibrating the sensitive nerves of his already-burning inner walls. She pushes it further in as she leans forward and sets her palm flat on his rounded middle, grinning at the slight whine that could have either come from his stomach or the very back of his throat.

"Mmm, that's what I thought, big boy."

Her cheek settles down against his stomach, hearing all the glorpy churning inside as well as feeling the movement that could be his stomach at work, the baby shifting, or the vibration from the toy. (Or some combination of the three.) She pulls back, fingers dancing lightly at first before digging in enough and starting to rub and massage it. His stomach starts groaning and gurgling, appreciating the help with breaking up whatever he was last craving with enough fervor to not pay attention to how much he was eating.

His stations start to slip into static as it starts getting overwhelming, because the toy was left in and he can feel it every time he so much as twitches- and it's very hard not to twitch. He's never been full like this before, and it was like it supercharged every muscle in his body, hot and tight and loose all at the same time. Pressure on the inside, in the middle, between his legs, both inside and outside his skin like he's burrowed deep in the blood and watching from above at the same time. It's a good stretch inside of him, like yoga or when one's spine pops just the right way and cracks, breaking something to let the old out and the new in. Right when he's close to the end, she pulls the thing out while it's still buzzing, leaving him feeling almost hollow and empty until she replaces it with her hot, wet mouth and finishes him off herself with a rolling purr of her own.

[my-blog-about-stuff-111231]

my passion

My passion is cars, I love everything about cars and how cool they are how fun they are to drive, and all the things you can do to a car. one day my car started having problems running it would jump a lot and the rpm would go up and down I did some research on why it was happening and it ended up being that I needed to replace the sparkplugs so I went on YouTube and learned from there. at first, it was tough because I had to learn everything from scratch but by the end, after changing all my spark plugs and coils and re-assembling the air box that I had to take out to access the park plugs on the driver's side I turned my car on and nothing…. my car would not turn on and all he power was cut. I went back to look at the engine bay and it came to be the reason it wouldn't get power was because I didn't bolt a ground back onto the car so after bolting the ground back on the turned on and all of its problems went away. I love doing this because I learned a great skill the ability to fix my car and save a lot of money by not sending it to the mechanic and the satisfaction you get from fixing something you love feels good. another thing I fixed was the ac it was blowing hot air and I didn't know what was the reason so searched online all the different causes and what all the symptoms meant and it turned out to be the ac condenser but to get to my condenser I needed to remove my radiator partially to get the condenser but I also needed to remove the ac lines that were connected to the old condenser which was a major pain because it required to allot of strength with you didn't have the special tool needed to remove it and id rather save my money and just use some elbow grease. after taking the condenser out I changed all the O-rings put the new one back in replaced the radiator and put the fan back on. I would like a McLaren 720s such a nice sleek car built to go fast and for the track racing cats has also always been a passion for me I've played racing games growing up and I was always good at it I with to build cars into a track/daily build so I can take it to the track and have fun but also use it as my daily to commute to work and back. to do so I would need to lot of money and the first mod I would do is the suspension by upgrading the suspension the car would be able to perform better on the track and be more stable at high speed next would be changing my brake rotors slotted and holed discs so I can more efficiently cool down my discs so I don't get brake fade and after that, I would get bigger breaks; once I'm done with those mods I would install some performance parts and a tune that will allow me to unleash more power from the engine at the track then slap in another tune for when I daily drive it. once I am one with the one I would then install a roll cage as a safety measure to keep myself and the passenger safe in case the car was to roll over the cage would protect us. A helmet would be necessary as well for safety and I would also add a 4-point harness and an adjustable bucket seat for more safety and comfort. once I have done all those modifications what next is forced induction? forced induction is the process of forcing more air into the engine and more air = more power which is always a plus. One way you can go is turbocharging which is super cool and I would love to do so. another way to boost an engine's super which make a cool whine noise when revving the engine. the difference between these too is that the turbo will give you more top-end power but not much on the left end because there is such a thing called '' turbo lag'' which means the turbo takes time to spool up for it to make power. on the other hand, supercharging has more low-end power because it doesn't need to spool up but you will have ''parasitic loss'' which happens because the supercharger needs power from the engine to turn the turbines inside of it which takes hp from the engine so basically is taking some power from the engine in order to make more power.

[wiackcom]

The 2000 Saleen S281 Supercharged represents an extreme take on the Ford Mustang. With extensive modifications from renowned tuner Saleen, this S281 transforms the 'Stang into a supercar slayer. Overview of the S281 Package Saleen thoroughly reworked multiple areas of the Mustang to create the S281 Supercharged. Key Upgrades Include: Supercharged 4.6L V8 making 350 hp (claimed) Lowered suspension with stiffer springs and shocks Wide low-profile tires and multi-spoke wheels Functional aerodynamic add-ons like spoilers and splitters Unique exterior styling tweaks and interior details Purpose of the S281 To turn the Mustang into a legitimate sports car rivaling Corvettes and Porsches, with razor-sharp handling and muscle car acceleration. Harnessing the Supercharged V8 Power The blown 4.6L V8 provides a night and day difference over the stock Mustang GT engine. Immense Low-End Torque With the Roots-type supercharger, torque peaks at 410 lb-ft at just 3000 rpm for incredible launches and driveability. High-RPM Power Surge The V8 rips to a 6000 rpm redline without fading. The S281 feels significantly quicker than its 13.8 sec 1/4 mile time suggests. Lower Noise and Smoother Delivery Unlike some earlier Saleens, this blower whines minimally and the engine idles smoothly thanks to the air-to-water intercooler. Custom Tuning Optimizes Performance A Saleen aluminum intake manifold and recalibrated engine management system ensure the boosted powerplant runs at its peak. Racetrack-Ready Handling With a performance suspension and ultra-sticky rubber, the S281 sticks and turns like a track star. Rock-Solid High-Speed Stability The chassis exhibits minimal roll and understeer, maintaining composure at speeds that would frighten most stock sports cars. Tenacious Grip in the Corners Fat tires, taut suspension tuning, and quick steering allow the S281 to carry big speeds through tight bends. Fade-Free Brakes Shed Speed in a Flash With four-piston front calipers clamping big rotors, the brakes withstand repeated hard use lap after lap. Optimized Weight Distribution Smart placement of the engine and transmission provides an ideal front/rear balance for razor-sharp transitions. Interior and Exterior Impressions Muscle-Bound Exterior Flared fenders, big wheels, and huge spoilers give the S281 an aggressive, competition-inspired appearance. Personalized Cockpit Touches Saleen logos adorn the seats and sill plates. Aluminum trim and white-faced gauges provide a crisp, modern look. Stiffened Chassis Limits NVH The ride is on the firm side and road noise is apparent, but structural additions reduce unwanted chassis flex. Well-Sorted Nature Considering the radical mods, the S281 retains decent drivability and real-world comfort - this is no bare-bones track toy. Saleen S281 Supercharged FAQ How much horsepower does it make? Saleen claimed 350 hp, but dyno testing suggests around 330 rear-wheel hp, or ~380 crank hp. Either way, it's a lot. What's the top speed? Expect over 150 mph if unrestricted. The S281 hit 154 mph in C/D testing - far above the stock Mustang GT's 138 mph top end. How quick is the 0-60 mph time? Saleen advertised 4.8 seconds, but expect low-5's based on independent testers. Still very quick for the era. Does Saleen offer warranties on these cars? Yes, both limited and powertrain warranties were included. Coverage length varied annually. What's the model year of Dion's S281 Cobra in the music video? The Saleen Mustang driven by singer Celine Dion in the "That's The Way It Is" video is a 1999 S281 Cobra. Conclusion: A Complete Transformation With its comprehensive makeover of the Mustang GT, Saleen created an American muscle car that could run with the world's best sports coupes on road or track. The 2000 S281 Supercharged represented a pinnacle for these reimagined 'Stangs.

[sportyconnect]

The 2000 Saleen S281 Supercharged represents an extreme take on the Ford Mustang. With extensive modifications from renowned tuner Saleen, this S281 transforms the 'Stang into a supercar slayer. Overview of the S281 Package Saleen thoroughly reworked multiple areas of the Mustang to create the S281 Supercharged. Key Upgrades Include: Supercharged 4.6L V8 making 350 hp (claimed) Lowered suspension with stiffer springs and shocks Wide low-profile tires and multi-spoke wheels Functional aerodynamic add-ons like spoilers and splitters Unique exterior styling tweaks and interior details Purpose of the S281 To turn the Mustang into a legitimate sports car rivaling Corvettes and Porsches, with razor-sharp handling and muscle car acceleration. Harnessing the Supercharged V8 Power The blown 4.6L V8 provides a night and day difference over the stock Mustang GT engine. Immense Low-End Torque With the Roots-type supercharger, torque peaks at 410 lb-ft at just 3000 rpm for incredible launches and driveability. High-RPM Power Surge The V8 rips to a 6000 rpm redline without fading. The S281 feels significantly quicker than its 13.8 sec 1/4 mile time suggests. Lower Noise and Smoother Delivery Unlike some earlier Saleens, this blower whines minimally and the engine idles smoothly thanks to the air-to-water intercooler. Custom Tuning Optimizes Performance A Saleen aluminum intake manifold and recalibrated engine management system ensure the boosted powerplant runs at its peak. Racetrack-Ready Handling With a performance suspension and ultra-sticky rubber, the S281 sticks and turns like a track star. Rock-Solid High-Speed Stability The chassis exhibits minimal roll and understeer, maintaining composure at speeds that would frighten most stock sports cars. Tenacious Grip in the Corners Fat tires, taut suspension tuning, and quick steering allow the S281 to carry big speeds through tight bends. Fade-Free Brakes Shed Speed in a Flash With four-piston front calipers clamping big rotors, the brakes withstand repeated hard use lap after lap. Optimized Weight Distribution Smart placement of the engine and transmission provides an ideal front/rear balance for razor-sharp transitions. Interior and Exterior Impressions Muscle-Bound Exterior Flared fenders, big wheels, and huge spoilers give the S281 an aggressive, competition-inspired appearance. Personalized Cockpit Touches Saleen logos adorn the seats and sill plates. Aluminum trim and white-faced gauges provide a crisp, modern look. Stiffened Chassis Limits NVH The ride is on the firm side and road noise is apparent, but structural additions reduce unwanted chassis flex. Well-Sorted Nature Considering the radical mods, the S281 retains decent drivability and real-world comfort - this is no bare-bones track toy. Saleen S281 Supercharged FAQ How much horsepower does it make? Saleen claimed 350 hp, but dyno testing suggests around 330 rear-wheel hp, or ~380 crank hp. Either way, it's a lot. What's the top speed? Expect over 150 mph if unrestricted. The S281 hit 154 mph in C/D testing - far above the stock Mustang GT's 138 mph top end. How quick is the 0-60 mph time? Saleen advertised 4.8 seconds, but expect low-5's based on independent testers. Still very quick for the era. Does Saleen offer warranties on these cars? Yes, both limited and powertrain warranties were included. Coverage length varied annually. What's the model year of Dion's S281 Cobra in the music video? The Saleen Mustang driven by singer Celine Dion in the "That's The Way It Is" video is a 1999 S281 Cobra. Conclusion: A Complete Transformation With its comprehensive makeover of the Mustang GT, Saleen created an American muscle car that could run with the world's best sports coupes on road or track. The 2000 S281 Supercharged represented a pinnacle for these reimagined 'Stangs.

[rpmtrish]

FEATURE - THE NEMESIS - Terry Podschweit - '67 Mustang

Full disclosure: usually magazine features are fairly sterile things, devoid of much emotion and full of endless details about the build. The author typically refers to the magazine as an entity, like “we saw this…” or “we asked that.” At RPM we’ve worked to change that over the past 17 years by building personality into our features, but this will take the experience that much further as the views and opinions expressed here do not necessarily represent those of RPM Magazine.  Instead, they’re all mine. The first time I laid eyes on retired auto mechanic Terry Podschweit’s beautiful 1967 Mustang you see here, I was blown away. At the tender age of 11, I had been to the 1986 Street Machine Nationals in Du Quoin, Illinois and fell absolutely head-over heels in love with prostreet. My dad had taken me to the show, and it required a total of about 30 seconds to realize I was enamored with pretty much anything with fat tires tucked up under the quarter panels. The next spring, my dad purchased a well-executed pro street build of his own: a blue metallic 1966 Nova with a mildly cammed 350. We hit the show and cruise circuit later that summer of 1987, frequenting several local events within driving distance of our hometown Harrisburg, Illinois, less than 50 miles from Du Quoin. Also within that 50 mile radius was the small town of West Frankfort, Illinois, home of the Redbirds—and Terry Podschweit. At one of the first shows we attended, I spotted the compact and wiry Podschweit and his blown and then black classic ’Stang from across the fairgrounds. With flawless gloss black sheet metal, polished Centerlines, and a whining Dyers supercharger poking through the hood, I was pretty sure my dad’s car had lost the pro street class before the judging even began. I was right. Not only did Podschweit beat us at that show, it seemed like he was at every other show we attended that summer, too. And every show, the result was the same: Podge’s Mustang: first place. Everyone else: thanks for coming. Read more of this article. Just click on the digital feature below this introduction. Read more stories like this at www.rpmmag.com Read the full article

[wimpydave]

Leroy Jr.'s Whipple Supercharged 408 IS ALIVE!!! This Supercharger WHINE...