#what if no amount of precious metal was worth what the object was | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hippolotamus · 11 months

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Hippo my lovely 💕

21 - this is a very long hug now sort of hug

If it sparks joy 💕

It did! Eventually (sheepishly kicks at the dirt) Enjoy, lovely 🦛💞🐥

For the full experience may I recommend

if i’m being honest (it scares me to death) | T | 2926 words

Just got in. See you tomorrow.

Buck pockets his phone and enters the apartment — it’s not home, never really has been — his movements slow and easy, like he’s floating. Buoyed by the sort of love and contentment that can only come from spending an evening at the Diaz house. A few precious hours of dinner, then playing Boggle and Scattergories until Chris begged off to play an online game with his friends. His limbs are loose and humming, like his veins have been injected with liquid starlight. Even the air around him feels syrupy sweet and pleasant. The kind of thick, protective cover that nothing negative could hope to ruin.

He drops his keys in the bowl and immediately walks to the fridge to put away the Tupperware container of leftover mushroom and chickpea meatballs with zoodles for tomorrow’s lunch.

Eddie picked the recipe, saying he wanted to try it. No particular reason, he just did. He’s been doing that more lately, choosing dishes he would make anyway and subbing in vegan ingredients.

Buck took notice immediately and makes sure to show his gratitude in heaping platefuls and commenting on how delicious it all is. He knows from experience that it’s all too easy to end up with dried out, inedible food that shouldn’t be fed to anyone. It’s the least he can do for his best friend making the effort to cook something special just for him. Even if said best friend will never admit that’s why he’s doing it.

At times, if Buck lets himself look too closely, it feels a lot like something else. These acts of service feel a lot like love. And it is. The sort of love two best friends who would do anything for each other have. Buck’s not naïve enough to think that Eddie wouldn’t do the same thing for any of their friends or family. But at the same time it’s also more? Deeper. A sacred bond or formula shared just between them. Like learning Bobby’s chili doesn’t work without the cocoa powder. Someone could try a million different ways and it would never turn out right.

He wants to be brave enough to name this thing they’ve been building since promising to have each other’s backs. This relationship forged in fire, mud, and tsunamis. Built on collapsing foundations, busted down doors, lightning strikes, and ‘Because, Evan’.

If he could be part of Eddie and Christopher’s lives for everything, he would do it in a heartbeat. But that always seems like too much and not enough to ask for. Because Buck is too much and not enough. Acceptable in measured increments for precise amounts of time. For now — probably forever — he tucks that dream away in favor of focusing on what he does have.

With the leftovers safely put away, he grabs a beer, twisting off the cap and listening to it slide across the countertop, finally slowing to a stop next to the utensil caddy. It’s… loud. Too loud for such a small object. Or maybe the apartment is just too… cavernous? Empty?

Buck leans back against the counter, taking a lengthy sip and visually assessing his space. He has things. The right amount of things, even. After all, he’s one single person. How much could he need? He drowns the thought with more beer when his mind tries to remind him of six cheese lasagna and couches and having the answers.

He decides it’s not worth ruining his still relatively excellent mood by worrying over something as trivial as a chunk of metal, and moves out to the patio. It might do him some good.

The atmosphere is filled with the sights and sounds of the city at night. A complex symphony of traffic, music and people wrapped in an LED haze that starts at the street and drifts slowly upward. It’s a familiar melody that, just like the apartment, isn’t home but does its best to provide comfort.

He manages to pick out a few stars peeking through. Not full constellations. Those are impossible, staying hidden like the ancient giants they are. It’s nice to still be able to see the twinkling specks, even if they’re nothing like some places he’s been.

On the ranch in Montana he would lay on the hood of his Jeep and stare for what felt like hours. Feeling small, but also like something was waiting for him. Like he was part of something bigger that he just hadn’t discovered yet. Looking at the sky now doesn’t feel that way. More like being at sea, adrift and searching. Waiting to be found, though he’s not quite sure by who or what.

It reminds him of a documentary he watched once about otters. The mothers fluff up their pup’s fur and leave them to float while they hunt for food. The babies are powerless to do anything except spin in a circle until she returns. Sometimes Buck feels like that. Like somebody has given him enough support to turn in place but not actually go anywhere.

He casts a look at the table and chairs and finds himself thinking of fixing, being at your worst, trying again anyway, and— no. Clearly being outside isn’t helping, so Buck returns indoors, hoping the television will prove to be enough of a distraction.

As he searches for something to watch, it seems reasonable he just needed a better place to focus his attention that isn’t his own inner chatter. He’s already slightly irritated that the vibrant glow from earlier has faded so significantly. Maybe there’s still a chance it can be recovered.

He quickly settles on a cooking program and that gets him smiling again. He doesn’t even particularly care what’s being presented, just that it evokes the same warmth as being welcomed home and brown eyes with flecks of gold. At least until the next episode comes on.

This one features a couple, a husband and wife posed in their studio kitchen. They’re surrounded by pristine white cabinets, gleaming mixing bowls, and perfectly measured ingredients that will make a stunning something-or-other. When it’s complete they’ll pull it from the stainless steel double oven to be served on the prop table that’s been set like a photo shoot for Better Homes & Gardens.

Buck can’t help but notice how they move in harmony, fluidly traversing around each other, like a ballet. Like partners. Maybe it’s all for an audience, but it looks genuine. Not the type of movement that’s choreographed or faked. He stares, scrutinizing every instance of adoring looks and playful gestures until something within him finally cracks.

The hollow ache that usually lives in his chest suddenly feels deeper. Wider. Like it may actually break through and tear him apart, causing him to wonder how such emptiness can feel so massive. As if his ribs are slowly cracking open, snapping one by one, stretching the skin while crushing his lungs and heart. He wants to scream or something. Anything to untangle the mess sitting under his sternum.

Through rapid, gasping breaths Buck tries to refocus, to take himself back. Even just fifteen minutes. Is that so much to ask? Returning to blissfully, ignorantly, mindlessly observing?

Despite what he wants, the screen remains unchanged. Mr and Mrs Fucking Perfect carry on with their routine, blurred and watery in front of him. And Buck – he’s spinning in circles again, too helpless to do anything except wait. Except he doesn’t want to. He’s so tired of drifting and circling and clinging and pausing.

It’s just- when he’s the guy who’s always trying to fix things that are out of his control… what is he supposed to do?

🍠🍠🍠🍠🍠

Eddie puts the last of the dry dishes away in the bottom cabinet, and not a moment too soon. He’s got an early shift in the morning and has to get to bed. He could have left them in the rack for tomorrow, but it gave him extra time to mentally replay the earlier parts of the night. Like watching Buck smile, all pleased and fond, every time Eddie thanked him for a helpful cooking tip. Or watching Chris break out in a full belly laugh at one of Buck’s corny dad jokes.

It really is a form of self-torture sometimes, having Buck over for dinner and homework and board games. Pretending they’re a family and this is a normal everyday thing he gets to have.

He tells himself it’s for Chris, too, but he also knows that’s a blatant lie. If Chris wasn’t a factor Eddie’s pretty sure he’d invent any and all reasons to spend more time with Buck.

Eddie sighs and lays the dish towel over the sink edge. The ridiculous one that says Silence of the Yams over a print of a sliced up root vegetable. It came as part of a set Buck and Chris gave him last Thanksgiving. It’s probably not a coincidence he uses this particular one the most. The shade is a nearly identical match to the burnt orange sweater Eddie always likes on Buck.

There are times it feels like he’s not the only one with all these feelings welling up inside, trying to prevent them from bleeding out through his pores and spilling onto Buck. Like there’s something in the casual touches and glances that pass between them. Something electric and charged that’s more than bros or friends and decidedly not platonic.

One day, maybe, he’ll work up the nerve to tell Buck what’s in his heart. To ask him on a date and hope he’s not fucking up the best relationship that’s ever happened to him and his son. For now he’ll take whatever Buck is willing to give. Even if it only ever comes in the form of shoulder nudges, zoo trips, and Keeping the Peas housewares.

He starts his nightly routine, walking a path through the rooms, turning off lights and making sure doors are locked. When the final throw pillow is returned and the last pile is straightened, he hears the tentative knocking.

The noise immediately puts him on edge, setting off his protective instincts. Nothing good can come from someone being at his house this late. Christopher is in bed and Buck has his own key. Eddie tiptoes across the floor to peer through the peephole, shocked to discover who’s waiting on the other side.

“Buck?” Eddie turns the deadbolt, opening the door wide for his friend.

This isn’t anything like the night he came seeking respite from Maddie’s well-intentioned visitor train. Instead of standing tall, barreling past Eddie, Buck stares straight ahead, unblinking and motionless with slumped shoulders that make him appear small. Eddie can see how his eyes are puffy and red-rimmed. He looks utterly broken.

Before Eddie can say his name again, Buck surges forward over the threshold. He falls into Eddie, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s waist and burying his face into the crook of his neck.

Eddie pushes the door shut, not bothering to listen if it latched correctly or not. He returns the embrace, one hand on Buck’s back, the other gently petting his hair as Buck’s body shudders against his own.

He gratefully absorbs each whimper and sob. The way thick, searching fingers clutch at his shirt.

“Shhhh, hey. I’ve got you.”

Buck was fine a few hours ago. What the hell could have happened since then?

“I- I’m sorry, Eds.” Buck begins to pull back, rubbing away the wetness on the sleeve of his maroon hoodie. “It’s late. I shouldn’t have- I’m gonna–” He jerks his chin toward the doorway.

“Uh-uh. None of that.” Eddie lightly grips Buck’s elbow, a silent question. Buck hesitates, looking between Eddie and the entryway, before he acquiesces to letting Eddie tug him closer again.

He wants to do any number or ill-advised things like hold Buck’s face between his palms, kiss away every tear, and murmur every wonderful thought he’s ever had about the man in his arms until Buck believes them. For now he settles for cradling and rubbing soothing patterns and silently loving. He’ll stand here all night if that’s what Buck needs. He can do that.

“I don’t know what happened. All I did was turn on Food Network,” Buck warbles. Then he shakes his head against Eddie’s shoulder, exhaling a world weary breath. A puff of air expelled by someone carrying the universe and trying to make it appear no bigger than a classroom globe. Eddie’s, unfortunately, more than a little familiar.

“That’s not true,” Buck confesses.

The silence returns and Eddie waits for Buck to elaborate on what he means. It isn’t long before the explanation comes, so muted that Eddie almost doesn’t catch it.

“I’m tired, Eds. Of pretending to be happy alone and waiting to be chosen. Tired of holding back just so the wrong person likes some version of me that isn’t even authentic. It’s just all so exhausting.”

I’d choose you. Three words Eddie can’t bear to make himself say out loud, because his best friend is hurting and now is most definitely not the time for that kind of confession. So he holds onto them a little longer, ignoring the sting where they settle back into his heart. A burning pain that only becomes more intense when Buck burrows impossibly closer, continuing to cling to Eddie like a lifeline.

Buck speaks again, sounding unfathomably small and heartbroken. “Am I that hard to love?”

“No.” Eddie’s answer is immediate and unwavering. As true as the night he first decided in front of their captain and an exploding ambulance.

Buck responds with a skeptical huff. “You have to say that because you’re my best friend.”

Eddie slides the hand on the back of Buck’s neck forward, grazing over his cheek and under his chin until he can tip his head up. Even in the darkness, Buck’s eyes are exceptionally blue. Endless depths that manage to steal Eddie’s breath and reflect back every future he yearns for.

It’s been ages since Eddie’s given any serious thought to last first kisses or until death do we part, but he would swear under oath that’s what he sees now.

“No,” Eddie reiterates. This should probably be more difficult and be ratcheting up his anxiety. But it doesn’t. Instead he’s wrapped in a distinct calm. An undeniable certainty, because what he’s about to say is true and however Buck reacts won’t change it. “I have to say that because I love you.”

Buck blinks and his mouth falls open in an imperfect o. “Y-you what?” He whispers.

Now that he’s said it once, a second time is that much easier. “I said I love you. And I will always choose you. All of you. Over and over. Every version. If you’ll let me.”

Buck’s eyelashes flutter, fresh tears starting to pool there, and he looks at Eddie with such awe and disbelief, like he can’t accept that someone would genuinely want him. Not that he doesn’t understand the feeling, but it shatters Eddie to think Buck has spent even a second believing he’s unlovable.

“Of course I’ll let you. How is that even a question?” Buck asks, as if they haven’t been dancing around exactly that for years. He stands to his full height, never letting his hands drop, beaming down with the smile Eddie’s claimed as just for him. “But, Eds?”

“Yeah, Buck?”

“This has been a really long hug. Not that I’m complaining. I was just kinda hoping I could kiss you. Finally. I’ve been kinda wanting to for a while.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

And who is Eddie to deny him that?

“Please,” he sighs into the diminishing space between them. His tone borders on a plea, but this is Buck. The person who has seen Eddie at his most vulnerable, who sees Eddie more than he’s ever allowed anyone else.

They drift closer until their lips brush, just enough that Eddie gets a taste of Buck’s horchata lip balm. Eddie can’t understand needing more than the 3-pack he can get at the grocery store, but right now he’s not complaining about the sweet, cinnamon flavor.

Eddie deepens the kiss, pausing when he can make himself break away, just enough to murmur ‘I love you’, wanting to make sure Buck knows he’s all in. That this isn’t a fluke or temporary, pitying lapse in judgment.

Because he does, and he is, with every fiber of his being. He loves him, loves him, loves him.

Suddenly Buck pulls back, breathless and wide-eyed, his already plush lips kiss swollen, tempting Eddie to bring them back together. “I just realized I never said I love you, too. Because I do a-and I really need you to know that.”

Eddie hums appreciatively, claiming Buck’s mouth again, unable to stay apart any longer now that he knows what it is to kiss Evan Buckley. He submits to the love and adoration and the way they fit like two puzzle pieces, further solidifying how they’re meant to complete each other. He doesn’t know how he ever thought he knew what love was.

There are infinite meanings for different people. For Eddie, it’s painted in hues of burnt orange and blue. Folded in cheesy puns and always having a fresh container of oat milk in the fridge. Stated in facts about retrofitted ceiling tiles and light fixtures; conveyed in I know you did, what are you afraid of, and I misunderstood the assignment.

It’s following his heart on the winding path that led him to a reality better than any fantasy.

#soft prompts #buddie fic #eddie diaz #evan buckley #fic: if i’m being honest (it scares me to death)#hippo writes

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tezthegreat · 2 years

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SUPER RANDOM I HAD WHILE I WAS IN THE CAR

TW, mentions of mutilation, murder, teeth, objectification, depictions of gore (although I find it a bit mild)

If I missed anything please tell me, I don’t want someone seeing this and having a hard time sleeping because of it. Thank you!

The entire concept/idea is this person/thing/creature/being that uses human corpses as guitars.

Follow me through the process (in no specific order).

They hollow out the entire body, organs, blood vessels, fluids by carving a somewhat circular hole where the victims stomach should have been and scooping out all unwanted guts, organs etc. They leave most of the bones like the rib cage, and the spinal cord because they help with natural support with the torso. They neatly, and precisely slice their limbs off (arms, legs), making sure the cuts, slashes and method they used didn’t damage/harm the bodies skin.

The skin itself they leave for the outside, while also keeping some of the things close to the skin.

The head is used for the tuning knobs and those little metal pieces that hold the strings in place & turn when the knob is turned to either loosen or tighten the string/other material uses as string.

The teeth of the victim are used as the knobs, placed on the side of the skull (a cm above the ears), in the ears and just below the earlobe. The third knob is shoved from the inside out — meaning they physically put their hand inside of the victims mouth and forced their own teeth through their upper cheek.

The small metal pieces I mentioned before as well are in sets of 3 on each side, except they are facing upwards and not sideways prior to the knobs. The first set of 2 is placed just above where the eyebrows used to be, the second set of 2 in the former holders of the eyes and the third set of 2 is placed right where the cheekbone would stop and the mouth would begin. They noticed that where the ears insides can be looked into is not parallel to where most of the victims eyes were, so they rip off their eyes and sew them a bit higher so they can properly function.

The insides of the skull have also been removed, the brain, eyes, etc. The skull itself was cut to a quarter of its size (think of a human skull being placed with the face facing towards the sky/roof, then imagine the top

quarter of the skulls being sliced sideways so it looks like a curve with a flat top). They use the cut off piece of skull and reuse it to make a smooth, flat blank slate that has been cut to fit into the victims skull. The slate does have a hole at the bottom where the tongue can slip through. (Don’t ask how this works, I’m still working on the kinks so just fill in the blanks however you like)

This allows them to more easily adjust and mold their victims head into what a guitars would have worked like.

For the strings they normally use spider web or another natural material they find; but spider web is their first choice.

The web’s string does not break under their fingers/[ ] because their touch is so light it barely disturbs the string, while somehow making sound.

A small amount of info about the creature/being/thing/person: they don’t look at people as people, and instead only look at them as objects; something to collect, desire. Humans to them are (whether they themselves are human or not) not worth looking past the surface. If you are fit to be their victim then you are wasting precious time over. Your worth is determined by their version of value.

They will look at you like an object on display. Are you of their taste? Right colour for their current mood (not meant to be racist though if you interpret that way that’s not something I can necessarily change)? Right height, right weight? Quality?

I haven’t quite figured how they would preserve the body or some other more minor details and functions, but I thought this gave you a solid idea of what I had in mind.

I do not mind you or anyone else using this in their content, whether it be for an OC, a world idea, inspiration or so on. Though I would love if you tagged me so I can see how you’ve expanded on this! Credit is also appreciated

I know this most likely won’t gain much attention but this was just an fascinating thought I had and I believe it is an interesting thought indeed.

Have a wonderful day/night

— Tez

#horror #gore #mutilation #mentions of blood #objectification #murder #killing #horror ideas #oc ideas #oc concept #oc #story concept #story idea #horror imagery #Tez’sOddThoughts

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paypant · 2 months

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8 Ways to Get Money from Scrap Metal

Scrap metal is an under-utilized asset that can help you make extra cash. With the right tools and knowledge, you can start your journey toward building a profitable scrap business today. Here are eight ways to earn money from scrap metal:

Scrap metal

What is scrap metal? It's a broad term encompassing anything made from metal that can be reused or recycled. This includes old cars, appliances like refrigerators and washing machines, tools, and machinery—even decorative items like ancient statues or fences can be considered scrap metal. The possibilities are endless! How do I collect scrap metal? If you have any business or work in the construction industry where you might encounter large amounts of discarded metal objects around town (like old cars), it's worth watching for them if they come your way. Otherwise, if you don't have one already built up through specific connections or professional contacts in the recycling field, it's time to start making some! Before proceeding, we must tell our readers that there are many laws specifically about this area of commerce. Please check with relevant governing bodies before acting on anything related hereon outwards.

Scrap bronze and copper

If you have any bronze or copper in your home, it can be sold for a pretty penny. Bronze is often used to make statues and other decorative items because of its beautiful color. Copper is commonly used in electrical wiring, cooking utensils, and roofing materials. Bronze and copper are precious metals that can be sold to scrap yards for cash! You may not realize how much bronze or copper is lying around your house until you start looking for it—many people don't realize how much they have until they start thinking about what to do with it. Selling scrap metal involves more than just picking up a phone and making an appointment with a local scrap yard (although this option is available). If you want to get the most money out of your unwanted items, consider these tips:

Scrap electrical wires

A wire is a widespread item. It can be sold by weight, length, gauge, type, or brand. Wire also comes in many different colors and insulation types. The price of scrap wire will depend on its composition and condition. For example: - Copper - $3 per pound - Brass - $1 per pound - Aluminum - $0.50 per pound

Old Appliances

- Copper, brass, and aluminum - Lead and other hazardous materials - Steel and iron - Plastic and other non-ferrous metals (these can be recycled for scrap metal) - Cast iron (this is usually sent through a shredder) * Stainless steel, which is not typically found in old appliances but can be found in jewelry (such as a watch strap), electronics equipment such as mobile phones, MP3 players, or laptops, cutlery and even building supplies like window frames.

Old car parts and rims

Old car parts and rims can earn you a nice chunk of change, especially if your city has a lot of auto shops or scrap metal yards. - Car parts: - Car batteries - Car engines (careful with these—they're heavy and sometimes dangerous) - Fenders (the metal part by the wheel) - Tires (you might need to sell them in pairs) - Car rims: - Tail lights: These are usually sold as a pair. A good seller will have both in working order and can tell you if they're cracked or not. You should also check that they aren't bent up; this makes them harder to sell later on down the line! - Headlights: Headlights are another common type of scrap metal that sells well, but they can be tricky because they're often expensive when bought new. If yours still functions correctly, it could pay very well for itself when it comes to the sale.

Old plumbing fixtures (faucets, showers, etc.)

Old plumbing fixtures (faucets, showers, etc.) can add up to decent profits. They're made of metal and easy to recycle and sell at scrap yards. If you have a metal detector, search around in old houses or buildings being torn down—you might find some hidden treasures. Now that you know what plumbing fixtures are and how much money they can be worth, it's time to start your treasure hunt. Here's everything else you need to know about collecting old plumbing fixtures: - What is a plumbing fixture? A plumbing fixture is any part of your water system that connects directly with the pipe itself; for example, faucets and showerheads are all part of this category. All these types need regular replacement throughout their lifetime due to wear-and-tear caused by heavy use over time (or if something breaks). That said... - What are some excellent sources for finding these items? Try searching through old houses before demolishing—they may contain hidden gems like these! You'll also want to look around town if there weren't any homes nearby that might've had most of their materials recycled already."

Old tools

Old tools, like wrenches and other hand tools, are usually steel. Steel is a valuable metal that can be recycled into new steel products. Most scrap yards will pay you in cash or give you store credit for old tools.

Aluminum cans

Aluminum cans are the most valuable scrap metal, costing about $0.50-$1.00 per pound (valued at the same rate as copper and brass). According to the US EPA, aluminum is also the most recycled item in America. That's because recycling aluminum saves 95 percent of its energy and 50 percent of its raw material value compared to producing it from scratch—and that's good news for your pocketbook.

Highest paying scrap metal near me

Now that you know where to find scrap yards, we can discuss how to find the best one for your needs. If you're selling scrap metal, you must look for a firm that pays a fair price and has been in business for a while. You can often tell this by looking at their website—if they have one! Most recyclers will have an active social media presence and post pictures of what they've picked up recently or are currently buying.

Another valuable resource is Yelp; many people leave reviews on their favorite shops and provide valuable insight into what makes each place special (or not). An experienced recycler can tell if a customer is taking advantage of them, so don't try anything funny—they'll spot it instantly.

How do scrap yards make money?

Scrap yards make money by buying scrap metal. This might seem obvious, but it's worth noting that scrap yards pay for scrap metal by weight, not by the pound or the ton or even the kilogram. If you want to get paid more for your metal, you need to ensure it weighs more than whatever weight they're currently paying for. An excellent way to increase the weight of your metal is through sorting. If you are removing screws from an old piece of furniture before bringing it into a yard, remove all of them and put them into one pile so that when you weigh your items in the yard, they don't get counted as additional ounces due to their small size. That way, only larger pieces are being considered and added to your total sale cost.

Frequently Asked Questions

How can I make money from scrap? You can make money from scrap metal by recycling it. If you have a pile of old, rusted car parts and other metal scraps that require recycling, there are several ways to turn them into cash. Sell Your Scrap Copper for Cash It's easy to find buyers for copper wire, pipes, tubing, and other items made of this precious material. Whether you're looking to sell your scrap copper as-is or melt down the materials at home before selling them on eBay or Craigslist is up to you—but either way, it will benefit your wallet! Recycle Aluminum Beverage Cans Into Money The metals inside aluminum beverage cans (aluminum itself) are also valuable and worth money when sold separately from their plastic coatings on either end (the "tin-plated steel shell"). Will scrap prices go up in 2021? The price of scrap metal has been downward since the late 2000s, and it's expected to continue falling for the next few years. According to MetalMiner, global prices could drop by up to 10% in 2021 relative to their current levels (which are already low). Scrap prices rose in 2018 due to increased demand from China, which had started buying lots of recycled materials as part of its "Green Fence Initiative." However, this spike was short-lived. We saw prices drop by about 20% throughout 2019 and are now below where they were before the Green Fence went into effect. While some may look at these numbers and assume there's no point in selling scrap metal anymore—why to bother if your earnings will be so low?—that view isn't entirely accurate. While making money off your junk isn't always easy or guaranteed (and it certainly won't happen overnight), there are ways you can make sure that whatever profit you do make is as high as possible by taking advantage of what's out there right now: How do you collect scraps? Once you've found potential leads on companies locally in your area that buy or process scrap metal from homeowners like yourself - take note! These businesses will often have different requirements for how much material needs to be delivered per load, so make sure whatever amount fits within those guidelines before filling up any vehicles with junked electronics. What pays the most at a scrapyard? Aluminum- The most common of the metals listed here, aluminum does not have as high a value per pound as copper, but it is much lighter. For this reason, it is ideal for larger projects. Copper- With a higher value per pound than aluminum or steel, copper is another popular choice among scrap metal buyers because of its malleability and durability. It's also environmentally friendly because it can be recycled repeatedly without losing integrity. Steel- While steel has less value per pound than copper or aluminum, it's still worth noting as one of the most common types of scrap metal found at your local scrap yard or recycling center. Steel also boasts excellent durability when compared to other materials such as plastic and wood (both useful in construction projects), so if you're looking for something strong enough to build with but doesn't require much time or money upfront, then consider collecting some old pipes from plumbing jobs around town before heading over to your local recycling center tomorrow morning. Brass/Bronze - These two metals are similar enough that we've grouped them here on our list; both have similar properties, like being malleable when heated up (which makes them great candidates for manufacturing new products out there). However, unlike brass which contains zinc along with other metals like lead, which make they are unsuitable for use in many industries today (due to regulations). Bronze consists only of carbon dioxide mixed with tin dioxide making these two materials quite different from each other despite having similar uses today thanks to past centuries when they were both commonly used. How do I start my own scrap business? Getting a truck and trailer is the first step to starting your scrap metal business. You can use this equipment to go out and collect scrap yourself or sell it directly to a scrap yard, processor, dealer, or another buyer. The next step is to find a location. You can set up a shop in your backyard or rent space from another business. If you have capital, purchasing land and building a facility yourself is possible. What is the most profitable material to recycle? The most profitable scrap metal is aluminum, followed by copper. Copper is used in many electrical and electronic products, so it's easy to see how that could be a hot commodity. Metal recycling isn't just for making new metals; it can also be used to make other products like jewelry, eyeglass frames, and clothing. If you're looking to get involved with the recycling industry, here are some things to consider: - The cost of shipping your items back home from where they were picked up (if applicable) will be deducted from your total earnings at the end of each month/year, depending on your chosen payment plan. - If there are any costs associated with retrieving your items after they've been sold off, such as storage fees or transportation expenses, then those costs will also be deducted from your earnings at the end of each month/year, depending on which payment plan you choose

Summary

These are all great items to collect to get some extra money. There are many ways to collect scrap metal. Here are a few: - The first place to look is in your home and yard, where you may have old appliances, tools, or other items made of steel. These can be sold for money at a recycling center or junkyard. - If you don't want to go out looking for scrap metal yourself, ask friends and neighbors if they have any pieces lying around that they don't need anymore—they may be willing to part with some if you offer them cash in return! - If all else fails, consider checking out your local recycling center or junkyard; people often donate items because they no longer need them but don't see any value in selling them online for very little money (or nothing at all). At Scrap King, we're committed to offering you the best scrap metal prices in town. We also want to ensure that your experience with us is positive. Read the full article

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changdickey81 · 3 months

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Augusta Abuse - How Not To Do It

How Simple Is It To Get Began with Augusta Precious Metals? So, you may relaxation straightforward that Augusta Precious Metals is as secure as it could actually get within the physical precious metals business. These are retirement accounts that assist you to invest in gold or silver, and so they come with a number of advantages, including tax-deferred growth and the power to hedge in opposition to inflation. Devlyn Steele has a rich background in analytics in quite a lot of industries. In line with Augusta, they are a hundred % clear with their charges and charges. Augusta Precious Metals is likely one of the few companies that has minimal annual storage fees and gives support throughout the duration of your account. The management of the corporate also makes it successful. Because the CFO, Mr. Smith performs an essential role with regards to educating traders on danger administration. As risk-managed belongings uncorrelated to inventory market performance, gold and silver buyers can develop their wealth without having to worry in regards to the volatility and market threat inherent in equities. If you're planning on constructing a portfolio with gold IRAs or increasing your present retirement portfolio to precious metals, this team will assist you with doing so. Listed below are more IRS-approved gold and silver coins offered by Augusta Precious Metals that you would be able to add to your funding portfolio.

Not like investments in paper money or stocks, you'll be able to truly hold onto precious metals and see them as bodily property, making them a reliable form of asset funding. This company is at all times transparent about its pricing, so you'll have the ability to see the transaction status, ask-to-bid differentials, and charges. However, it’s essential to bear in mind that they cost varied fees for his or her services and products. It additionally has a low minimal funding amount of 2,000 USD, which allows you to buy gold and silver bullion in a low quantity. They will assist you to roll over your IRA into a gold IRA.

In contrast to the primary option, GoldStar Trust firm focuses on its providers as a custodian, paying agent, and trustee for self-directed IRA. After you will have chosen a custodian, they work with this workforce to course of all paperwork and set up your gold IRA account. • Choose Metals: After getting a custodian, your agent guides you on how to choose the pre-selected metals. However, there’s a number of potential for investors who wish to wager on the worth fluctuations of gold and different precious metals. In this Augusta Precious Metals review, we will take an in depth look at what the corporate has to offer, together with analyzing its execs and cons, what actual customers are saying about their experience, and if they’re a company you could actually trust along with your cash. Through augusta precious metals review us , the information base of any of the opposite sources that that company offers, you will experience the knowledge of the client assist staff. If you’re ready to search out an advisor who can provide help to achieve your financial objectives, get started now. Begin-Up Charges: If you’re new to Augusta Precious Metals there is a one-time payment of $50 for them to course of your software. How a lot can I earn by investing in an Augusta Precious Metals gold IRA? You will only have to create an account, transfer money into it, and make your order.

They've a team of in-house precious metals experts who can reply any questions you will have. Isaac Nuriani is the power behind Augusta Precious Metals. Isaac Nuriani attended the College of California, Los Angeles, earning a level in economics. Smith is a graduate of the University of Toronto with honors in economics and finance. He graduated from the University of Toronto with a bachelor’s degree in Finance and Economics. The graduate of the University of California grew up in a household where his mother and father invested in precious metals. Augusta Precious Metals was founded in 2012 by the Nuriani family. So significantly in actual fact, that they cater to each and every customer like family and supply buyer assist that lasts for life. Maybe the customer-centric method is why the corporate enjoys high scores and never simply from customers however from third-party watchdogs like TrustLink, and IRA Gold Advisor. On Yelp, TrustLink, and Facebook, the business has an impeccable report. Excellent reviews. As discussed above, it’s simple for a disgruntled customer to go online and leave bad reviews with the BBB, BCA, TrustLink, Yelp, and so on. Augusta’s verified customer opinions are overwhelmingly constructive.

#augusta precious metals review

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moesgaardenglish14 · 4 months

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Barrick Gold Corporation - Traders

Gold IRA companies are an ideal method to diversify your retirement and be sure that your cash is safe. These are the charges which can be charged to open, maintain and shut your gold IRA account. What are custodian andfor a custodian, nevertheless, track yo storage fees? For tax years starting after December 31, 2019, the rule that you're not in a position to make contributions to your traditional IRA for the year wherein you reach age 70½ and all later years has been repealed.. To be a Roth IRA, the account or annuity must be designated as a Roth IRA when it's opened. For example, when you have a retirement account at work, your employer will possible manage it by means of a custodian who invests the funds in a wide range of stocks and bonds. Nevertheless, it’s unwise to maneuver all of your savings into a gold IRA directly. Those who are married and filing jointly or married and filing individually with a partner who is not lined by a plan at work can even take a full deduction with no limits. A written rationalization of rollover treatment have to be given to you by the plan (apart from an IRA) making the distribution.

Generally referred to as numismatic coins, gold coins are produced by authorities mints and should have legal tender face value. goldira1.com may be a commission-free, automated investing platform, but you should be paying for the usage of a web-based brokerage system, Robo advisor, or trading charges. In this article, we’ll check out Augusta Precious Metals Charges, including how they examine to different providers and whether or not or not they’re worth paying. The funds are deposited right into a plan or IRA within 1 yr from the start of the 60-day rollover interval. In keeping with IRA laws, all gold and silver IRAs must be self-directed. This consists of any coin produced after 1965 that was never minted for circulation in America and doesn't have any mark indicating its worth on it (e.g., Mexican peso or Canadian loonie).

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Collectibles are objects which have worth for aesthetic causes slightly than for their financial value. In case you inherit a conventional IRA out of your spouse, you may typically roll it over, or you can choose to make the inherited IRA your own as mentioned earlier below What in case you Inherit an IRA. Although California's primary rival in rugby is British Columbia, the rivalry between California and Stanford in rugby has been happening for greater than a century. Their knowledgeable team of consultants is out there to help investors make knowledgeable choices about their retirement investments. The most respected gold IRA companies will provide a wide range of providers. Some custodians provide helpful funding advice, whereas others do not. You can select to sell your objectives and silver by yourself, but it might not be to your best interest, especially if you are not conversant with the market. If you’re carrying a substantial amount of gold, you possibly can decide a company that provides an option to make use of a sliding scale. You should utilize Worksheet 1-1 to determine your modified AGI.

Savvy traders realize that each time free-floating capital bulges the general public purse, it at all times overflows into the mainstream economy, enabling this enormous brief-time period revenue. Self-directed Roth IRA account holders have the ability to buy funding properties by means of their IRA. These losses came straight from Unites States retirement account holders and 2010 is trying bleaker day-after-day. The One-Rollover-Per-Yr Rule was repealed on April 5th, 2010. Now you can do as many rollovers as you want throughout any given tax 12 months with out paying taxes or penalties on any of them. In that case, chances are you'll need to see Pub. Then, you’ll want to figure out how a lot of your new gold holdings will probably be coated by what’s known as a “minimum preliminary buy amount” (MIPA). Police have carried out a lot of searches in the realm in relation to the dissident republican group since Friday.

#gold ira

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iraempirecom · 8 months

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The Gold Guy's Locations

The Gold Guys, With multiple The Gold Guy's Locations across the country, firmly believe that precious metals found above ground hold inherent value. In keeping with their core values of recycling and reusing, their main focus is on recovering used materials rather than opening up new mining operations.

The Gold Guys are completely committed to looking after their clients. They offer a high price guarantee for a variety of items made of gold, silver, or platinum regardless of the state of the products that are currently on the market. The foundation of their worldview is the idea that these materials have intrinsic value because of the amount of precious metals contained in each individual piece. For detailed information, check out: The Gold Guys Reviews Transparency is Important

About Joe and Shane

Despite having different homes, Joe and Shane started working together on an innovative electric car project in 1991. This led to the development of a solid professional friendship that lasted for 24 years. When their flagship shop at Minnesota's Mall of America opened in 2008, their cooperation underwent a significant turning point. They put together a cohesive team from their close circle after understanding that their entrepreneurial energies and desire to create chances were in sync. It established a distinctive work atmosphere based on trust and honesty.

Joe and Shane, who currently runs a network of eight stores, credit their talented and committed staff for the company's tremendous growth. They take part in neighbourhood projects and individually visit various retail locations. Joe and Shane have left their mark on The Gold Guys Maple Grove in every way because of their dedication to forging genuine connections. In an effort to be seen as dependable as well as trustworthy in the same manner that people rely on designated specialists, they position themselves as authorities in the field of precious metals. As "your gold guys," they work to establish enduring, trustworthy bonds with their valued customers. The Gold Guy's Locations The Gold Guys is located in many areas like- - The Gold Guys Bloomington

- The Gold Guys Duluth

- The Gold Guys Woodbury

- Maple Grove

The Bottom Line

The Gold Guys is a business that prioritizes recycling and reuse above starting new mining operations for precious metals. They emphasize the intrinsic worth of these materials by providing a high price guarantee for a variety of objects made of gold, silver, or platinum. The creators, Joe and Shane, have established a network of a total of eight The Gold Guy's Locations, including The Gold Guys Bloomington, The Gold Guys Duluth, and The Gold Guys Minneapolis. The Gold Guys Woodbury, and The Gold Guys Maple Grove. The company's rapid expansion and status as an industry leader in the field of precious metals are the results of its dedication to sincere relationships and trust. As "your gold guys," they work to establish enduring relationships with their esteemed clients. Investing in precious metals can seem difficult. To help you find the best precious metals provider, we have created our top gold IRA companies list. You can check it out to see what the industry’s best has to offer. On the other hand, you can also check out the top provider of your state below: Read the full article

#TheGoldGuys

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globalbizcounterfietnotes · 9 months

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Banknotes: All You Need To Know and How Are They Used?

A banknote is a negotiable promissory note which one party can use to pay another party a specific amount of money. A banknote is payable to the bearer on demand, and the amount payable is apparent on the face of the note. Buy Replica Banknotes USA are considered legal tender; along with coins, they make up the bearer forms of all modern money.

Before modern societies and financial systems were set up, people used valuable objects, such as gold and silver, to pay for goods and services through bartering. Eventually, paper money and coins replaced these physical assets as representative currency. When this happened, precious metals backed the new currencies to give it credibility.

As of now, just the public authority backs banknotes. Albeit in prior times business banks could give banknotes, the Central bank is presently the main bank in the US that can make banknotes and mint cash. Around the world, billions of monetary exchanges use banknotes consistently.

By and large, U.S. residents could trade U.S. official paper cash for gold or silver. This bimetallic standard framework comprised of paper money in a proper proportion with gold or potentially silver. Notwithstanding, in 1964, the U.S. government bit by bit started to stop the bimetallic norm; in 1971, the U.S. went off the highest quality level by and large. The choice made an unadulterated government issued money, which the public authority upheld just with its honest intentions in its capacity to take care of any obligations.

Government issued currency gets its worth from the connection among organic market, not the worth of the cash's actual material. Since government issued currency isn't connected to actual stores, it chances becoming useless, because of out of control inflation.

What Is the Difference Between a Banknote and Regular Money?

Today, there is little difference between the term "banknote" and other types of currency. Historically, the term "bank note" originated from the historical period when banks could issue their own paper currency, backed by the value of their gold and silver deposits. Today, the right to print notes is usually reserved to a country's central bank, although there are some countries that delegate that authority to commercial banks.

How Do You Tell if a Banknote Is Real?

Most central banks implement a combination of anti-counterfeiting measures in printed notes, such as raised type, watermarks, and threaded paper. These will vary depending on the currency and the date of issue. For U.S. currency, the Secret Service provides a helpful list of existing security measures.2

The Bottom Line

Buy Replica Banknotes USA that are paper bills that are used as currency. The first banknotes were promissory notes, backed by the gold and silver in the bank's vaults. Today, banknotes are the main manifestation of physical currency, although they may eventually be replaced by digital payment systems.

#Buy Replica Banknotes USA

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farahbengtson83 · 1 year

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How Make A Decision Paper For Printing And Labeling

Additionally, competition has made printing not expensive. Because clients can now shop during the internet, printing companies should couple their low prices with they've worth while and satisfying printing suffer. The printing job. Exactly what it a person need to going to print? An individual going to create banners and streamers, wallpapers, learning aids, visual presentations or prints on 3D objects? Are your printing projects for outdoor or indoor use? Determining the nature of the project assist you in determining what regarding printer that you'll require to go with. For something to be 3D printed, it first has in order to become designed. Anyone can create something for this manufacturing process; if you might consider it designed on top of the computer, it can more than likely be generated through fractional laser treatments. Prior to anything, a design has to be created. This design will likely then be mailed to a 3D printer, or the machine that manufactures pill. This 3D printer is able to create anything layer by layer until a final piece emerges. The final piece could be created from materials with regard to example ABS plastic, precious metals like gold or silver, polycarbonates or ceramics, or full colored materials. Are usually several over 60 materials to choose from in fact. And probably one from the greatest things going for this type of T-Shirt printing is how the 3d printing T-Shirts could be personalized. Merchandise in your articles are hunting for personalized T-Shirts for being married you can print one for the bride, one for an auto of the bride, one for the maid of honour and two or three for the bridesmaids and then any other people involved. Vinyl transfers are a first-rate quality product that proven to last longer periods of time. T-shirt printing companies globe UK employ this method cater to bigger businesses that wish to provide their promotional gifts professional revealed. The method involves cutting the look or graphic out along with a special cutter and ironed on utilizing a heat press. If you want letters in printed on a t-shirt in vinyl, each letter should be cut out separately. The t-shirts could be washed too many times with virtually no damage to the vinyl. Typically matter to print 3d printing with rubber through mesh sizes ranging from 110-156. Granted sometimes https://www.luxes3dprinting.com/titanium-and-titanium-alloys-3d-printing-service/ dictates a large mesh count number. For instance, since a half tone or fine line drawing cannot hold on the lower mesh screen, you will get to use a high mesh frame and apply more passes to be able to a vibrant. For essentially the most part however, you'll to be able to use the less meshes with the intention that a larger amount of ink is deposited within the shirt. Run the CD which comes with paper server. During the 4th or 5th step it will search for your print server and will offer you the IP address of the WPS. Note it down and exit the develop.

#3d printing services #3d printing companies #3d print services #best 3d prints #how to 3d print

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bankinglong · 2 years

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Solid silver coins for sale

Secondly, when investors do rush to take delivery, there will not be enough silver to go around. First there is a noticable disconnect between physical market supply and paper pricing. Our research revealed a similar situation in silver futures, which creates comparable problems. This means that for every ounce of gold promised there are 293 investors who will be left empty-handed if they try to take delivery. In 2016 reported that the COMEX had promised out 294 times more ounces of gold on paper than they were able to deliver. When you take a close look at the futures market as it pertains to precious metals, then the issue becomes very clear. In most cases, when the contract ends, the buyer doesn’t actually take delivery of the silver but either liquidates the position or takes out another speculative contract. You see, today’s silver prices come directly from futures contracts. While this is most often the case with equities, we firmly believe this to be the case with silver prices today. Just because something may trade for a certain price on a given day, it doesn’t necessarily mean that’s what it’s really worth. If there is one thing investors have learned over the past few decades, it’s that financial tides can move quickly. Clearly, off the charts investor demand shouldn’t cause lower prices, particularly since silver has fallen in value 70% since 2011 highs and 12% last year alone. Most mints around the world are experiencing the same insatiable investor demand for physical coins and bars. We’re not the only country reporting record production, either. Mint reported over 2.7 million Silver Eagles sold in the first day of sales alone! This is a staggering number considering that during the 1990s there were entire years where only four million coins were issued. Mint struck and sold over 47 million Silver American Eagles, an all-time record. Newcomers to the silver market are surprised to learn that while prices have been falling the past few years, investment demand for physical silver continues to set records around the globe. It’s an irreplaceable component of the modern age with new uses being discovered every year. Silver has been considered sound money for thousands of years and is the only commodity you can buy today for less than it was in 1980. In our opinion, silver is the most misunderstood, mispriced, and undervalued commodity on the face of the planet. If you have any questions regarding what silver bullion to own please call or email a Gold and Silver Bullion Advisor at Austin Rare Coins & Bullion… we are always happy to help with your goals and objectives. Further suggestions are Silver Canadian Maple Leafs, Australian Koala & Kookaburra Silver Coins, Buffalo Silver Rounds, China Panda Silver Coins, Silver Austrian Philharmonics, & Silver Bullion Bars with various designs. You can also add world silver coins and silver bars for more diversity. One of the best silver coins to own, The Silver American Eagle, is the most popular silver bullion coin in the world today and it has been struck every year since 1986. We also believe the key is owning private, physical silver coins or bars that you control and hold in your own possession. Today, more than ever, we view silver as a solid store of value and a prudent investment to any properly balanced and diversified precious metals portfolio. Silver remains the most misunderstood of all four major precious metals and appears to offer an extraordinary amount of value at current levels. When starting a collection or adding to your precious metals holdings we will always recommend diversifying with private silver coins.

#Solid silver coins for sale

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beaverlycra16 · 2 years

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Merely The Very best Tips And Tricks About Online Games

Handful of things may take you out of this entire world the way in which a great video game can. Making use of their amazingly daily life-like images, noise and action, they make you feel as if you are right there in the center of it all! For more information on this amazing prior-time, look into the following report. Buy wi-fi controllers for the game methods. Taking part in video games could possibly get fairly thrilling. Several avid gamers jerk their controllers at some time or other. Some may even get so in to a xbox game that they throw their controller across a room! In circumstances like these, it really is disastrous being connected to some method. Hard wired controllers are already partly accountable for the devastation of several game playing techniques. Attempt booking online games before you buy them. It really is hard to determine you can expect to like a label or not. Consequently, search for a retailer that rents motion pictures and online games. Generally, you are able to hire a game for a few $ $ $ $, and the money is typically worth it. You are able to find out if a game is a good buy or not. Don't waste time around the instruction guidebook. Find out as you perform. The game is going to be much more intriguing in the event you figure points out as you go along. Should you get disappointed, you always have the option of obtaining the manual and turning by means of it for help. Give it a try yourself initial, however. If you are actively playing a sporting online game, and you also don't have any knowledge of it, establish the difficulty stage to rookie. This will help grab around the unique features of the game and understand your way round the field. Should you set it more than that, you will likely get irritated and not possess entertaining. When you are enjoying an RPG game, take time to talk with the other heroes from the activity. Most of the time anything they say will not be helpful to your best objectives. But, from mod apk market to time, you may affect precious metal. As a result, the tiny investment of time will be worth the large payoff that you will get in the event you persevere. If you want to give your preschooler to try out a relevant video online game, always stay with them after they get it done. Talk with them as to what is going on from the game. If you make the event a sociable event, you could make unique connecting time between you and your kid as they are performing anything they like. Construct hands energy. Contracting a football tennis ball is not only a wonderful way to reduce pressure, it can also increase the power with you. This can be required for individuals marathon game playing sessions that may depart the hands confined and sore. Having more fingers durability also gives you greater control, offering you a good edge in all your video games. Perform games to assist you learn. Video gaming are not only a thrilling time, but they can be very educational, way too. Should you or a friend or acquaintance is having difficulty studying some principle, look for a activity that will help instruct it. You will be amazed at the amount of a youtube video video game can instruct you. Spend some time to feel cautiously before you choose which video gaming method you can expect to acquire. You should think about the types of games designed for that unit, along with its characteristics and specialized specs. The Web is a good spot to execute analysis. You need to read some critiques of numerous solutions. Learn before buying your games console.

Should you haven't had the opportunity to maximize your video clip game playing encounter at the time of yet, this article surely has shown you how! Consider these suggestions out the very next time you take a seat to experience and entirely get rid of your self in yet another galaxy, aspect or interesting lifestyle that doesn't are your own personal!

#mod ipa #mod apk #mod apk for android #mod apk store #mod apk website #mod ios

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nardacci-does-art · 2 years

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My favorite mug broke a while ago & I kept the pieces in a little paper bag. Finally did something artsy with it since it’s definitely not usable as a mug anymore. Like an exaggerated kintsuji. It’s just super glued back together & then the “gold” is hot glue & paint because I don’t have the materials or skill for real kintsuji pfdfgdb

#nardacci art #the idea was like....#what if I tried doing kintsuji but instead of just having thin delicate lines of gold it's just oozing gold #what if no amount of precious metal was worth what the object was #what if it was almost grotesque in its reformation like a corpse propped up & smeared with pretty paint #its former owner unwilling to let it go & instead glorifying it #listen I'm a sentimental bitch over here I'm Sentiment McBitch & my favorite mug broke #& I CAN'T FIND IT ANYWHERE ONLINE #I got it for like $20 at my favorite Hasting's in town that closed years ago & now I can't find this thing anywhere not even amazon #& I refuse to buy from amazon like I was desperate #it's called the Jug Mug by Gamago if I remember right #it was a great size & shape for holding in both hands

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changdickey81 · 3 months

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Home - RMHC Augusta

#augusta prec

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jj-ktae · 3 years

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Note II - Aldehydes

Moodboard : Courtesy of the lovely Jacqueline @jaebeomsmullet ! Thank you for helping and hyping and just being here whenever I need it.

› Title : Fragrances › Genre : Angst, Fluff, Romance, Composer!Jungkook x Perfume Maker!Reader › Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x Female Reader › Warning : Mentions of Suicide, heavy subjects, depression (none of these are used with the idea of glamourising mental illness), strong language, smut in later chapters probably. Do not read if any of these trigger you.

› Author’s note : This is another version of the story I wrote a few years ago for GOT7. Some of the events will be different, others will not change just like some paragraphs will be the same and others won’t. Informations, definitions and words are taken from here and here.

› Summary : In the world of Perfume making, it is believed that everyone has their own natural fragrance. It is also believed that everyone has that one scent capable of making them feel a thousand things. You find yours in the form of a composer on the verge of breaking, right when you have to face one of the biggest challenge in your life.

Masterlist | Note I - Ionones |

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Note II: Aldehydes

An aroma chemical that contains a functional group consisting of a carbon, a hydrogen, and an oxygen atom. Aldehydes can be derived from natural or synthetic materials. There are different types of scents associated with this chemical function but the most commonly referred to when profiling a scent as “aldehydic” is a sharp, metallic, crisp, slightly fatty impression often associated with the smell of clean textile or hot iron. One of the first “aldehydic” fragrances is the famous N°5 created by Perfumer Ernest Beaux in 1920 and launched by Gabrielle Chanel in 1921.

Your second day is worse than the first one. Jimin is all over the place, mixing essences and sniffing everything he can. You’re glad though, it makes him go silent whenever he concentrates on something, and you have time for focus. It doesn’t help because you’re still frustrated if not more, but at least you can overburden yourself in peace.

The only light in all that shadow comes from the memory of Jungkook’s scent, precise yet unknown. You try to create something similar, but it’s everything and nothing at the same time and no matter the amount or variety of scent you use, you can’t even get close to it

His scent is a mystery.

It adds to your misery, like a voice mocking you for not being able to recognise a scent while another one forces you to crave for more. It feels like chasing a ghost.

The sound of your head against your office takes Jimin out of his momentum. “What’s happening?” He inquires. He gets up from his own working area to stand next to your powerless soul.

“When is the meeting?” You try because it is potentially the only hope for today. That powerful lady came in early to inform you about an upcoming meeting with the marketing team. The project seems big, because Jimin started to work as soon as she flew out of the laboratory. It’s been one day and he is so open about himself that you can already read his body language.

“3 p.m. I was thinking about a brainstorming. Let’s think about a concept.” He offers because this is going nowhere. You’re about to give up at any minute, and he needs you to be into it.

“What concept? I’m running in circles.”

“Sexy? Provocateur? Romantic? Angsty? Bucolic?”

“All of these have already been worked on so many times...I don’t think they want to go for something as...forthright. I’m quite sure they won’t be satisfied with a mere sexy perfume.” It’s what you understood - if your sudden creative freedom is anything to go by.

Jimin understands, his eyes now wide. He has no idea how to achieve that, but he still thinks you’re brilliant for thinking out of the box. He picks his notepad and starts writing everything you said, his brows furrowed.

“We want to be unique. The concept needs to be appealing to the greatest number without being too cliché. We are free to use what we want.” He notes things down and you find yourself peeking at the words, meaningful yet complex.

“So we need to mix a little bit of everything.” Jimin stops for a minute before a whine escapes his thick lips, “I’m lost, help me.”

“We can’t work this way.” You raise your head slowly, ruffling your wild locks in a nonchalant way. “We have to find a scent and put a concept over it. We can’t force the scent based on an imaginary idea.” This only works when a brand has specific goals but here you have nothing. You can’t possibly force an idea into your head.

Jimin looks pitiful as he puts the notepad away. “It’s going to be harder than I thought.”

And just like the day started, the meeting followed. You were not expecting much of it and you were right. The marketing project came and explained you were free to do anything you wanted. Their main objective was to follow you on whatever you wanted to create, and it’s infuriating.

How many times do you have to repeat that you can’t do it before they start to believe you?

Jimin, who was stressed before the meeting is now dejected and it almost breaks your heart because you feel responsible. You send him home earlier and decide to work on your own. Two hours later you leave the lab with Orchid oil all over your bag and the urge to cry.

There is only one way to make you feel better. You feel ashamed, like you’re addicted to something but you have to admit it.

Jeon Jungkook’s scent is the only thing worth smelling.

When you come back from work, there is no trace of him. His backpack is gone, the bed looks neat, and even the towel he probably didn’t use is dry. There’s still his smell, fresh in the air and it makes you run back outside to find the bridge where you had found him the night before.

He is not there.

You were exhausted, but you’re suddenly on fire. This situation is stressing you more than it should be when you don’t see him. It’s like you won’t ever see him again. You look around all the bridges you can find close to your place. Jungkook is nowhere to be seen.

You open the door of your apartment with a heavy heart. It’s like you lost something precious and it’s making you angry. What the hell is happening to you?

But you open the door and it hits again, like a whirlpool of long lost feelings and dried memories.

Jeon Jungkook is in your living-room, and his delectable scent pounds in the deepest zones of your brain. He is sitting on the floor by the small table, right hand dancing over bright white paper and guitar on his lap so you only see his back, but it’s the biggest relief you had in years.

He doesn’t turn around when you let your bag fall on the floor, he doesn’t move when you stop next to him. He looks absorbed, entranced. His knee is shaking to an unknown beat, mimicking his left hand which is drumming on the soft brown wood of the instrument he is holding.

“God. I thought- I’m so stupid.” You don’t want to share your worries with him, but the thought of him throwing himself off a bridge is still fresh. It stings more than it should, more than the pain you’re supposed to feel when confronted with a stranger’s despair.

“Hmm?” Jungkook doesn’t move toward you at first, but eventually his hand stops, and he glances up at your pallid features and tensed body “What’s wrong?”

“I came back home and you were not here. I thought...I thought you did something stupid.” You let your body fall on the couch. It’s like blood is circulating again into your veins, your skin going back its initial colour.

Jungkook is puzzled, like he doesn’t understand why it would be so dramatic for you. “I went around town after I grabbed some stuff from my place.” It’s crazy but he feels sorry for you. “I’m sorry for worrying you” he trails off, scanning your face some more. He has no idea how to react to a stranger panicking over his disappearance. His own family doesn’t panic when he doesn’t show up. He is lost as to why you would be so affected by anything related to him when no one else barely does.

You snort, not mad at him. You’re high on his smell and it’s all that counts. “It’s okay.” Your eyes find his, and his tilted head looks like it’s searching for any sign of discomfort. He only stares back, with eyes way too shiny for someone as dark as him. He looks candid, like he has everything to discover and it’s a mystery how he turned out thinking about the worst. You have no idea what he might be thinking - excepted that you’re probably out of your mind for reacting like this but he doesn’t question your intentions, for whatever reasons. You finally notice the papers and decide to move on before it gets too disturbing to deal with. “What are you doing?” you nod toward the torn pieces of paper and point a finger at the pile stacking up next to his crossed legs.

He swiftly puts it under his leg. “Nothing. Did you just come back from work?” He tries to change the subject. His voice gets higher and you instantly decipher his anxiety. He isn’t good with facing his own problems and it’s way too early to go into deep talks about lyrics and melodies. He might have agreed to a crazy proposition, but that doesn’t mean he is going to open to you. At least not now.

“I looked for you all over the place.” You admit because it’s a normal thing to do when somebody is in distress. Jungkook is dumbfounded.

“Why would you do this?” The situation in itself is already crazy enough as it is. He doesn’t mind you being friendly with him, even though he is pretty sure he doesn’t need it, but to the point of being dead worried for him?

“You were about to throw yourself off a bridge. I don’t know what kind of life you’ve been living but it’s pretty normal to freak out when something like that happens.” Your outburst shocks him. He doesn’t understand the impact of his actions over his surroundings. He has always thought he was just a detail in everyone else’s lives.

It has always been this way. He writes in the shadow for people to shine. Him not being here shouldn’t matter to anyone.

“It’s my business. I’m staying here because I have nothing left and it’s easier than staying in my empty apartment and facing my failures. It doesn’t mean we have to care about each other.” Jungkook doesn’t want to sound mean but he has to make it clear to you. His distress is by no mean a way to ask for anyone’s pity. He refused to add anyone into that mess, let alone a stranger.

It’s obvious, in a way. You know it’s stupid but this scent, it’s making you go wild. You can’t let it pass until you know what it is.

So you agree, taking the same tone and hoping your voice isn’t wavering. “I’m not here for you, I’m worried about another human being wanting to end his life. If it gives you the illusion that I care, I’m sorry about that.” You get up and you sound mad, something Jungkook notices as soon as you close the door a bit too violently.

No matter how mesmerising his scent is, he is apparently not that friendly. You’re not hurt by his words, because you don’t care enough personally to be affected. You’re being selfish, only thinking about your own benefit and what his scent could bring into your life. Jeon Jungkook himself doesn’t pull you in at all. He is someone you barely know anyways.

He doesn’t move from his spot in the living-room until later that night. He suddenly has too many things to write and too little time on his hands. He decides to stop when his wrist starts to hurt and his body hits the mattress of his new bedroom like a bag of sand hits the ground.

He feels at ease in the small room. Wood is covering the floor, and it is the same colour as the tiny office by the window. The view is peaceful, with buildings popping up from the floor like mushrooms and lights festooning the city in tiny dots. The bed is large and thick with soft bedding. The scent of the washing powder turns Jungkook into a nostalgic boy when he rolls into the bed, stretching his sore limbs. He feels even more stupid for feeling comfort in a seemingly empty room.

He falls asleep right away, exactly 10 seconds after you do. You’re both too exhausted to care about each other, but you both know you’re no strangers to your own common serenity.

And just like you understand the importance of his presence for your brain to function, he notices he needs your place to exist in his creative yet tortured mind. As stupid and as hard to believe as it is.

When you get up the day after, you see him by the kitchen’s table. He is sipping on orange juice that is not yours, and munching on toasts you definitely didn’t buy.

You go to the coffee machine, your head too cloudy to deal with his strong presence.

He speaks first “Want some juice?”. He is trying to make it up to you for his cold behaviour. He just isn’t used to being around you yet. He isn’t used being around anyone yet.

Also, he is the worst when he composes. He needs absolute concentration.

You sip on the hot liquid and nod his way. He hands you a glass with an unreadable face.

“Have a nice day.” He doesn’t know why he says it. He tries to be nice, because there’s nothing much to say to someone you met two days ago. Maybe his pride spoke for him yesterday, or maybe he decided to accept the hand of a stranger, because it’s less burdening than accepting his failures to his entourage.

You drink the fresh juice fast and walk away. “Thank you.” It is too hard to be rational right now, because the smell seems even stronger now. You probably come off as rude when you don’t reciprocate his words but you don’t dwell on it; that boy isn’t going to accept any sort of compassion anyways.

You enter the bathroom and get hit by the scent of his shower gel. Not that scent either.

You get ready at the same time as you build your resolve. Motivation is the key so maybe if you believe in you and your assistant, things might work out. Jimin is already here when you arrive, his citrus smell filling you from the first floor to the lab. He is joyful, like he found something awesome.

“Boss! Have a sit, come come!” His thin hand adds a tiny pressure to your back, leading you to your office.

“What’s happening?” You barely have the time to comprehend; he is already putting a sample in front of your noise.

You freeze.

“Wh-where did you find t- t- this ?” You utter, immediately thrown off by the odour.

“I was looking through essences this morning, and I thought we could start with a base, just to see what we could make of it. It’s...”

“Winter fir and Balsam*.” You conclude. Everything in this base is satisfying but the most important detail is that you remember this base. You smelled it this morning when you entered the kitchen.

You smell the very distinct feelings of comfort, warmth and softness which invades you whenever you’re close to Jungkook.

Jimin added a little twist to it, tho. “You added Cottage Herb Garden**”. The latter grins at you, visibly proud of himself for coming up with such a smart idea. He too gives off that feeling of freshness that is found in that herb. It is serene and woody and gives off feelings of sweetness and sensuality. Cottage Herb Garden fragrances are made using Aldehydes synthetic scents.

“I didn’t add much, but I thought it would go well because they both make great seasonal fragrances. I only put 8% though, how did you find out?” he looks shocked but not surprised, like he was half-expecting you to guess it yet still thought it would go unnoticed.

“The herb comes last. The earthy smell that lingers in your nose, it’s this one. Smell it again.” You tell him and he takes his time filling his nose. He closes his eyes and thinks for a moment before opening them again.

“This is Cottage Herb Garden.” You confirm and his mouth is now wide opened. He can’t believe he is working with such a talented person.

“So, do you think we could try? I feel like we’re using a lot of Aldehydes but at the same time it feels like a soft base note…” Jimin trails off, his fingers playing with the bottles.

You acquiesce, mind already elsewhere. It feels like the first step to Jungkook’s identity and it is energising. You take a sharp breath, startling Jimin who laughs at you because it’s like you found life again.

“You sound satisfied.” He offers the sample along with a genuine smile and for the first time, you smile back at him, thankful.

“You did great. I wonder why they hired me when you’re doing great on your own.” It’s true. Jimin came up with extremely complex scents and came up with a base note you would have never found on your own.

Jimin rolls his eyes and decides not to answer. If only he could have a quarter of your talent. He opens his notebook and starts writing, his eyes now shiny with glee

Base notes: Aldehydes (Synthetic) = Winter Fir / Cottage Herb Garden.

You put the sample in front of you and stare at it. So that was it. You smile to yourself, in a way, it’s like you can almost smell Jungkook.

You spent the rest of your day looking for another element to add to your base and when nothing comes to your mind you feel frustrated, but it’s the best you can do for now. Jimin is exhausted and snoring in a corner of the lab, his petite body squeezed between two cabinets. You shake him to wake his sleepy body and tell him to go home when you give up for the day.

It’s been so long since the last time Jungkook felt this satisfied. He didn’t go out, too engrossed into his lyrics to care about the light of the sun peeking through the opened blinds. It’s leaking off his pen, like he can’t stop the flood of ideas and he feels like a mad scientist, crazy and ecstatic. He takes a break around dinner time and when his stomach starts creating its own music.

He takes out noodles from the food he bought the day before. Living with you meant sharing a flat, but he wanted to provide his own necessities. Participating in daily life matters is only natural, after all.

His phone rings, and the caller ID makes him sigh. He is too hungry to face what is about to come, and his spent brain is screaming for rest.

He coughs, keeping his voice steady “Yes.” His tone is disillusioned. Jungkook barely gets any call nowadays, and except from work, he only knows one person who can annoy the hell out of him so much.

“You remember me? I thought depression AND amnesia hit you at once.” He wants to hang up when he hears the throaty voice. It’s heavy with judgement but then again, when is it not?

“And you wonder why I don’t call you, Yoongi-hyung.” Jungkook finishes the sentence in a sigh. Yoongi is awesome at being a nagging mother.

“You’re too busy being away I guess. Artists are such a handful.” He hears steps and after a while, Yoongi speaks again. “Where are you? I’ve been waiting in front of your flat.”

“I moved out.” Jungkook looks fine with the revelation. It’s like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“What? Where? Why didn’t you tell me?” he hears Yoongi’s car and supposes the latter is already going back to his place.

“It’s been two days. I’m living with a girl.” He blows hair on the steaming bowl of noodles, ignoring his friend’s deep shriek.

Yoongi doesn’t know what’s happening anymore. Jungkook leaving on an inspiration crusade is common, it’s something he does whenever he gets overwhelmed by his feelings. Never once did he actually move out to live with someone else, let alone a girl.

He doesn’t even remember when was the last time Jungkook even dated someone. “Living together as in...romantically?” he tries, suddenly wary because he expected a lot of answers, but not this one.

“I couldn’t write anymore. I’m renting a room in her apartment.” He swallows the food like he has been starving for days. There is not the slightest hint of discomfort in his voice.

Yoongi laughs after a while “You’re living with your landlord. God, Jungkook, I know you people need some sort of inspiration to exist, but to the point of living with some old lady for the sake of music...”

“She’s not old.” Jungkook has no idea why it’s the only part of the sentence he reacted to, but all of a sudden he doesn’t want anyone to make fun of the person who took him in, not when he wrote ten songs in the span of two days. Not when he feels like no one can hurt him in your quiet kitchen.

“Anyways. Lunch with me tomorrow, how does that sound? Shall I check on that woman you’re living with ? How much is she charging you ? Aren’t you being scammed?”

“I can’t.” Jungkook sighs, ignoring the numerous questions because this is so typical of Yoongi to make sure no one is messing with him. “I have to eat with my parents, don’t tell them that I moved out.”

“You have always been doing everything you wanted anyways, what would it change if he was to know?”

Because he is going to crush me down like fine dust.

It has always been the same, and no matter how successful he was at some point, his father was never satisfied. Not when music is not a certain source of income, not when reputation comes before everything else.

“I’m hanging up.” He announces once panic overtakes him and hears his friend objects, telling him he will meet with him no matter what.

It’s not like he doesn’t want to see him. It’s just complicated. Jungkook has always been different from others. He was raised with Yoongi and they had the same nanny when they were young. The age difference rapidly made Yoongi turn into the older brother as time passed, and while he was the one introducing Jungkook to music making, he quickly stopped to take over his family’s business. He never explained to him how he drifted from music, but he is now all about business. Their respective parents were and still are too busy to deal with education, and while Yoongi grew up like the sharks his father works with, he took after a quieter side, the one that tells him to do what he wants instead of chasing money.

Yoongi often tells him he is a fool, that he doesn’t need anything else if he can have a bright future with his father’s company. He often answers that he doesn’t want to work without a purpose, and Yoongi always tells him to stop being a hypocrite and rely on his father’s money if he was to spit on it.

It’s true, Jungkook doesn’t know struggling. He was born in a rich family with a lot of possibilities. He was able to become a lyricist after a lot of failures, and his parents never gave up on him financially. This is probably why he is so affected when he can’t write. He doesn’t know how to deal with difficulties, he who lived with all the good things of the world.

He hears the door opening and your sore body appears before him, surprised to see him home. It’s like you were expecting him to run away, again. You don’t speak when you see him, mouth full of noodles and wearing the same clothes you left him in this morning. The silence is thick, oxygen heavy with uneasiness. Jungkook blinks, slurping on the noodles before wiping his mouth hastily.

“Want some noodles?” It’s hard to catch on the words, but he moves the bowl in front of him, and you understand.

You nod.

No matter how strong the smell of seafood is, his scent always wins over everything else. You decide to stay close because you’re slowly deciphering his smell, and you need more time to know where you’re going.

He goes to the cupboard like he has been living here for years and fills another bowl before sitting back. You’re surprised by his sudden gentleness but brush the worries off. You’re supposed to feel weirded by the fact that an unknown man is now living with you, but none of you are freaked out.

Jungkook is too happy to be productive again. You’re too drawn into your memories to stop everything.

You sit in front of him and after a couple of minutes, he speaks. It takes you out of the now soggy food.

“What’s your job?” Jungkook sounds interested, but you know he is only trying to ease the mood.

“I’m a perfume composer.” You decide not to dig further into the matter. It’s a peculiar world, something that only a few people can relate to. Most people think you mix synthetic molecules into expensive glass bottles, wrapped in glitters and hidden into luxury boxes with frills and furbelows.

And you get offended, knowing fully well that it’s exactly what you think you’re doing.

Jungkook doesn’t sound impressed, you’re not surprised by that.

“Sounds complex.” It is. It truly is, and even more when he is entering your every pore. You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to it.

“It’s not.” you lie, “How about you?” His face lits subtly, and he seems shy all of a sudden. You don’t know this side of him yet, and you wonder where his emo behaviour went.

He coughs, putting the bowl down. “I’m a lyricist. I write lyrics and sometimes I compose, but I mostly write.”

“That sounds complex.” You muse. Jungkook is a tormented artist, then. It explains why he keeps on dreaming on bridges like he is filming a music video.

“Sometimes it’s complex, sometimes it’s a matter of course. I’ve been having a blackout recently.” It’s a confession, and he doesn’t know why he is sharing such a deep problem with you, a stranger.

You forget about the food “That’s why you were surrounded by torn papers.”

He chuckles. “Exactly. I’m getting there, though.”

It feels different to deal with such an open Jungkook. He chats like you’re close, smiles sometimes, he is almost glowing.

That evening you learn that he uses a pen name to write lyrics. He doesn’t want to tell you, but you know too little about the music industry and he finally spills the beans.

JK.

It sounds like some mysterious pen name used by thriller writers but you don’t tell him that. Instead, you decide to go to bed. No matter how comfortable you both seem, you’re not ready to share the part about you being addicted to his scent. He goes to his spot near the small table in your living-room and his hand goes back to a wild dance, covering the blank paper with ink. He is inspired.

He goes to bed right when you get up the day after and wakes up late for his lunch with his parents.

It’s not like he is eager to meet with them.

Plants. Plants plants plants. You look through the samples with haste. You know it has something to do with nature. The base note has to be about something else.

“What are you doing?” You smell Jimin the minute he opens the door, but you don’t let yourself be interrupted. You know you sound like a stalker, but you might or might not have smelled Jungkook’s jacket this morning, and you are sure of a thing: there is only one element left to create a frank base.

You don’t know when you switched from creating a perfume to reproduce his scent, but it doesn’t matter.

“All the samples are here, right?” The organ is huge and cabinets full, but it’s not enough for you. Jimin throws his vest on one of the chairs and approaches you, stifling a yawn.

“Yes. I think that’s quite a lot, actually.” He peeks from behind your shoulder, and sees your hands going through the numerous bottles, unsatisfied.

“No. No. These are generic scents. You don’t have any rare roots names, you forgot a lot of exotic fruits and most importantly, you don’t have anything uncommon.”

Jimin makes a face. He is not lost, he is adrift. “I’m afraid I don’t understand...”

“Tobacco abs, myrrh, resinoid, Balkans...” You talk but it sounds like a whole new language even for your assistant.

“Well, we have listed a lot of names. Most of them were used by previous composers, but we added more. I didn’t think it needed that much to be completed.” He knows about perfumes, he has a lot of knowledge, but you’re suddenly on a whole new level and can’t be reached.

You’re suddenly talking about tobacco odours and it freaks him out.

“I have a lot of these at home.” This could seriously help you. You barely use these, and most of them were sent by your father and collected on the internet. It’s the first time you can actually put them to good use because you know they could help, but you can’t bring them here.

Also, you think about how much easier it would be to just move work to an environment bathed by that scent which makes you crazy. How stimulating would it be ?

Jimin is expectant, but you don’t say more. He finally waves a worried hand in front of your face and you snap to meet his blinking eyelids.

“Let’s work from my place. This is what I often did.” Your offer makes him take a step back. He is not used to you being so devoted to this project.

“Are you sure? I don’t think the boss would object. We’ve had a few composers with weird demands before.” He doesn’t know what’s on your mind, but you’re a genius to his eyes and the mere idea of him seeing the place where you created such amazing products is electrifying. He can’t wait to know more about your ways.

“Good.” You glance around the room, “I don’t like this atmosphere.” You don’t mind if Jimin sees your place. At some point, you’re pretty much sure you could go with anything as long as you find the missing pieces of this conundrum.

You’re aware that you’re turning into an obsessional mess, but it feels pleasant to have a goal. This goes beyond everything you experienced, it gives you a fuel you didn’t know you could have.

You take the day to gather some samples and ask Jimin to let the boss know about your change of plans. At the end of the day, he helps you carry the numerous samples home. You’re a happy mind, torn between apprehension and excitement.

You open the door and Jungkook sees two huge boxes enter the living-room. He is rubbing a towel against his wet hair but he catches your box before you can let it crash to the ground. Jimin lets his own fall with a soft thud and you’re startled when you hear a dismayed squeal, along with Jimin’s shocked face, his finger pointing at a puzzled Jungkook.

“JK?!”

-------

* Winter Fir and Balsam : This redolent mixture of refreshing natural pine mingled with a sweet, peppery, delicately refined and soft base note of balsam has a soothing and warm character. It evokes particular feelings of warmth and comfort. The mind’s eye (and nose) recalls Christmas trees and sleigh rides and happy times by a fireside or even in a small apartment among special friends or family.

** Cottage Herb Garden : Sparkling blue waters, gentle summer winds and cozy brick cottages nestled in the lush, serene English countryside characterised this green floral scent. Enticing notes of sweet, earthy, star anise, fresh basil, grassy parsley, aromatic wild flowers, fresh garden greens and a woodsy, sensual musk base note comprise this complex aroma.

71 notes · View notes

vercopaanir · 4 years

Text

Keeping Warm

The Lovely Moons Series, Chapter 27

Masterlist

Pairing: The Mandalorian x Blind!Reader

Summary: The Mandalorian is unsuccessful in capturing his quarry.

Words: 5.5k

Rating/Warnings: M for mildly graphic depictions of injuries and wounds (burns).

Notes: BET YOU THOUGHT I FORGOT! Well, I didn’t. I have been very mentally tired from this new job, so I’m sorry for the delay. I hope this...well, if it’s not worth the wait, I hope it sustains us a little bit. I’ve already begun work on the next chapter, so fingers crossed it won’t be long!

AO3

You don’t know how long you sit and stare at the closed ramp of the ship, listening for the sounds of distant gunfire or voices. Your heart continues to pump blood angrily through your ears, throbbing at the thin veins threading your neck until your stomach curls into a thorny bramble of anxious sickness. You release a breath you didn’t realize you held, and you feel the gentle pressure on your arm draw your pale eyes away, down to the tiny child peering up at you with the sadness of a lost and worried little one in need of comfort.

It is natural to pick the baby up, to cradle him against your shoulder and kiss his head, sniffling against the fuzzy down that’s dusted between his ears. You both clutch each other, listening and waiting.

The ship is freezing, and it feels as if it continues to get colder by the second. You tug your cloak tighter around the two of you, the fabric clinging to your limbs where it’s been wet with snow. The heating system is old and unreliable, and you have to fumble with the panel to adjust the temperature, hoping it will actually pour warmth into the recycled air. You share a worried glance with the child when there comes a great, juddering sound from beneath the belly of the ship, and you sigh.

No noise, save the wind, continues to whistle through the cracks of the ship from outside.

Din hadn’t shared the details of his bounty with you. He had once said that it’s Guild protocol not to ask questions, not to get too deep into the quarry’s life beyond the necessary information it would take to capture and deliver. He had not spoken of any quarries to you, not since the Avalice brothers, and you think that the less you know, perhaps the better.

You still vividly recall the strikes to your face and head, the tightness of your bindings in the fathier stables, and you wonder if ignorance would be enough to comfort you. Not knowing the truth didn’t guarantee you wouldn’t be hurt again, and as you go through the motions of preparing dinner for your little one, you decide that not knowing what Din faces is worse than risking your own involvement. You try to bring back to mind the blurry image of what you had seen in the snowy field, the small smear of red against white, how violently Din had changed from a gentle and loving man to a deadly, unfeeling hunter, and you shiver harder than before.

You and the child usually share meals, but you can’t find an appetite. Your stomach is still tight with worry, hands shaking if left idle, so you sniffle against the cold and draw your cloak around the baby while he drinks soup from his favorite cup. The two of you are curled as close to the air vent as possible, the pitifully warm air doing little to chase away the chill.

When he has finished eating two helpings, you close the two of you in the refresher and run hot water into the sink until it steams the mirror and fills the small cubicle with humidity. The hot water is a precious commodity, but as the sun dips lower in the sky and darkness overcomes the world outside, the ship is practically icy. You don’t know where Din is, how long it will take him, or what, if any, trouble he may encounter, so drawing a small bath in the sink for your little child takes your mind off of those terrible ideas for a short time.

The soap is a gentle, milky emulsion of honey and herbs, and it makes the water froth with bubbles as you draw it through your hands to gently wash the baby, taking special care to clean his ears, hands, and feet. The steam curls the hair around your face, and when the child giggles and smacks the bubbles, they catch in your hair like the snow Din had dropped on you.

Wrapping him into a towel, you dry and dress him in the thickest garments you have, bundling him in his favorite blue blanket that smells of his father from how often he rocks the little one to sleep.

No amount of rocking soothes him this night. The closer he gets to slipping into dreams, the more he fights it, fussing against your breast and clutching at your dress. You avoid your shared quarters with Din, knowing it is too cold, and you don’t open the doors of the cockpit, too scared that someone outside might see the movement through the observation windows. Though, you desperately wish that you could see through them, wish you could look for any movement outside.

When the baby finally settles, you tuck him into the pram with yet another blanket and his stuffed bantha, hoping the insulation will retain the warmth better than your own body heat can. You push the pram into the medical bunk and close the door, hoping to block the cold air, and you lay a hand against the smooth steel. You yearn to climb into the uncomfortable medical cot, curling your entire body around the little one and drifting off to sleep with him, but your fears won’t let your mind settle. You can only think of the Mandalorian outside in the dark, and the gnawing sensation of something horrible won’t leave you.

You begin pacing the length of the hull again, rubbing your eyes, your brow, your face until it feels raw and pinched. You pass a short amount of time practicing movements with your walking aid, familiarizing yourself with its reach and the sounds it makes against the different spots against the walls and floors. When you grow weary, you retrieve the thick fur and blankets from the bed of the captain’s quarters and bring them back down into the hull, making a small cocoon near the air vent and settling down. You tug your gloves back on your fingers, admiring what you can make out of the soft leather. Your staff remains at your side, fully extended and gleaming in the low light.

Sleep is on the edge of your mind, just out of reach, and you focus on your breathing, letting whatever idle thoughts topple through come and go. You consider how much this ship, as cold and dark as it can be, has become your home. Once, it was an overarching shadow that made you tremble, but now it feels like a sanctuary, a respite from the outside world. As much as you miss the covert and yearn for that communal kinship, the desire to move, to wander, has planted itself in your breast. You can only hope that once this is over, you might wrap your arms around Din’s neck as he pilots, resting your temple against his helm and savoring the freedom of greedy men.

It’s unclear to you when you fall asleep, because suddenly the harsh knell of a fist against the hull’s door wakes you. It is slow, solemn, heavy.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Whoever it is wears armor upon their hands, not the soft leather gloves you are accustomed to. It is not a weapon or object being hurled against the hull either, and you suck in a breath upon the realization that someone is standing on the other side of the door. And it is not Din.

You are terrified to move, your back against the wall near the air vent. Your breath trembles with clouds in the cold air, and you bite on your lip to keep yourself quiet. The heating system has shut off, and you remember Din once mentioned that the systems would automatically expire after a period of inactivity-some kind of energy saving program to help conserve fuel.

The wind is howling outside, rushing against the metal siding, and you know if you don’t get the heat on soon, you’re likely to lose the feeling of your fingers and toes. You push yourself up, slowly and carefully, pressing your palms flat against the wall behind you. Blood rushes through your limbs, waking them from rest, and you don’t hear any retreating footsteps from the door.

If it was Din, he wouldn't knock.

If it was Din, he’d call out for you.

If it was Din, you wouldn’t be afraid.

Your eyesight is poor in the dim lighting of the hull, and you don’t feel safe enough to try and turn on the overheads. You don’t need light, however, to find the release to open the Mandalorian’s weapon locker, nor do you need to look for the shined and oiled WESTAR-34 gifted to you by Rhalaz and Briinx. Your hands shake as you hold the weapon with both hands, bracing your back against the wall across from the door, and you draw your breath from deep in your stomach. You close your eyes and focus all your attention on the sounds.

You hear the howling wind, the icy creaks of the ship shifting and settling, and then, you hear something else. Metal upon metal, as if that armored glove is dragging across the outside of the hull, feeling for an opening, for a way to get in.

Braced against the wall with the blaster drawn between both your hands, bones shaking and muscles aching from the cold, you don’t know how long you stand in the dark. Thoughts shuffle through your mind at such a speed it leaves you dizzy. Will a blaster bolt stop someone who is armored? If you cannot protect them from getting in, what will you do? You don’t know of a way to contact Din, uneducated in the communication software the Razor Crest is equipped with. And even if you were, is it safe to use when others are nearby?

But you become aware of a release in pressure, after a long time of listening and dreading, and you’re not sure how you know that the presence outside has retreated, but you do.

It’s as if the entire galaxy is focused upon you and your child for an agonizing stretch of the night, until suddenly it recedes, stars settling and moons turning back into their orbits once again.

Your breath continues to cloud the air in front of you, and your teeth begin to chatter now. When the engines are running, the air recycling system keeps the ship warm in deep space, insulating from within, but you are unsure how long it’s been turned off.

You don’t set the blaster down, shutting the weapons locker as an afterthought and crossing the hull with stunted steps. You leave your staff behind, climbing into the upper deck of the ship and opening the cockpit. You can’t be sure it’s safe to do, but the unknown-the lost, floating uncertainty of everything is too much to bear.

When the doors slide open, you squint in the blue tinted pre-dawn light, feeling your way to the pilot’s chair and settling in it, running your gloved fingers through the motions. You make a mental list of the pre-flight checks, knowing you will be spending precious amounts of fuel to burn the engines this way, but you are unsure now if you fall asleep that you will wake up again.

The engines are a soothing sound, the quiet flare of power beneath the ship reminding you of the earth growing organic life, a familiar and safe sensation as the gentle hum vibrates imperceptibly beneath your feet. The threat of an intruder seems like a far off nightmare now, only on the edge of your periphery, and you wonder if it is because you haven’t truly slept. Your instinct is to retrieve the baby, to crack open his pram and scoop him up into your arms, but you know what little heat he has is precious. You risk it if you expose him now.

So you curl into the pilot’s chair, tugging your cloak as tight around you as possible and wait for the heating system to begin chasing the chill away. You let your eyes focus and unfocus on the distant horizon through the observation windows, admiring the hues of blue and purple and gold. It reminds you of the flowers on Quanera, of the first time Din trusted you completely with his son, and salt gathers in your eyes against the powerful memories.

When the first tear pearls big enough to slip down your cheek, it releases a torrent of things you remember-the way he held you after he killed Toro Calican, the sound of the child breathing and sleeping upon his chest in the dark of the cockpit, the quiet, reserved motions of slipping into bed beside you every night with all the respect of a saint for their deity.

You wonder if your mother loved your father with such a depth, such a wrenching ache that you can hardly breathe to think of it. It hurts, a pressure bearing down upon your chest, and when you part your lips it tears a gasp from your throat. You press your head back against the chair, a small smile teasing the edges of your lips, and more tears slip down the sides of your face.

You haven’t truly considered the feelings you’ve harbored and nurtured until now, and it all unleashes with happy tear trails. It feels as if you have an answer for every question, somehow. A piece of a puzzle that has finally locked into place, you turn your face against the pilot’s chair and smell clean, cold woods.

It is when you start to doze before the lavender fingered dawn that you feel the shuddering of the ship beneath you, and your eyes fly open at the familiar sound of the ramp lowering. In your haste to throw yourself out of the chair, your legs tangle in the cloak and you nearly drop your blaster, but you brandish it between both hands as you approach the port of the ladder that descends into the belly of the ship.

Suddenly beading with a cold sweat, you hold your breath, listening intently to the sounds of a muted shuffling across the metal floors, soft grunts and harsh breathing, and then the ramp is closing just as soon as it nearly lowered completely. The ship seems to settle once more, and there’s nothing you can hear over the wind outside.

Then, you hear a sudden, heavy thud, and it might as well be your heart.

Scrambling down the ladder, your boot slips when it catches the hem of your dress, and you fall the rest of the way to land on your ankles. You feel a painful jolt from the impact up your legs, but it is a passing thought when you whirl around in the dimly lit space. There is a darkened mass quivering near the carbonite freezer, and at first you think it to be an animal of some kind until you hear the quiet static of the modulator catching on a painful drag of air.

“Din?” you whisper, slipping the blaster in the back of your sash, approaching the freezer with caution. You tilt your head downward, hoping to make out anything as you slowly kneel down and take off your gloves. “Are you hurt?”

It is so difficult for you to see, but the light catches his beskar well enough. You move to take his helmet with one trembling hand, but his own shoots out and latches onto your wrist so tightly you yelp.

“D-Don’t,” he hisses, letting you go with shaking fingers. He’s slumped against the wall, uses one hand to grapple with the hidden release of his helm before tearing it off. It hits the floor with a solid crunch, ice chipping off the steel and rolling along the corrugated grooves of the floor. You watch it roll until it comes to a stop somewhere down near the exit ramp, and you turn your eyes back to him, his hair matted with sweat and sticking to the blurry edges of his face.

He’s pale, you see immediately, almost as pale as the snow coating his clothes. You try to reach and help him take the armor off, but he bats your hand away again, growling as he rips off a pauldron, fumbling with his chest plate, peeling off the cuisse of his legs. “F-Frozen,” he whispers from between teeth. “It’ll b-burn.”

You suck in a breath, watching as each heavy piece of steel hits the ground with a slicing ring, not unlike some great beast losing its scales. You push yourself up on shaking legs, locating the crate you had been organizing a few days prior and retrieve a medkit. Once he’s torn his vambraces from his arms, you kneel back down, reaching out to remove his gloves and going still when you feel holes eating through the leather.

“W-What is this?” you ask, turning your face up to him. His eyes are like black holes against his ashen face, and you realize he’s trembling so hard, so violently that he can’t speak. You yank the glove off and jump when he yells in pain. It’s not apparent to you what’s happened until he bends over his newly naked hand, and you can see the shoulders of his woven undershirt and how they are also splattered with holes.

No. No, in fact, his shirt is barely hanging onto his frame at all.

Your eyes widen, and you can’t stop the automatic reaction of shuffling forward on your knees, quick to grab his arm when he tries to pull away from you.

At first, you don’t understand what you’re looking at because the lack of light is so watery in the hull that it seems his shirt has been worn away in places, wet in other spots until it shines beneath the light. When he lays his hand upon your knee, you look down and see it better.

His back is burned, lashes of brutal red welts becoming discolored from the extreme temperatures outside. There are blisters forming through the holes, and what you thought appeared to be melted snow is actually blood.

“L-Lay down,” you whisper, your voice cracking as your heart begins to beat out of rhythm in a terrible, frantic tune. You have to help him, his body clumsy and heavy. Din slips the rest of the way and coughs when his cheek meets the floor, his entire body juddering like the engines of the Razor Crest when they stall.

You might pass out, you think, staring in horror at his back. Perhaps be sick.

Once, you’d seen a servant burn their hand by taking a cast iron skillet from a fire, and it had not left any skin behind. Now, looking at the man beneath you, fear almost swallows you whole.

He is going to die, if not from his wounds, than an infection.

It’s only when his hand reaches out, trembling and weak to touch the hem of your skirt that you ignite. You throw yourself forward, grabbing at his boot and finding the blade he used to once cut your own dress from your body. You move carefully, kneeling beside his hip and finding the ruined lip of his shirt near his collar, and you are thankful he keeps his blades so well-oiled once more. It cuts the fabric like butter, and you go slow so that you don’t accidentally pierce his skin, cutting the shirt from his arms first and then the top of his shoulders.

The heat has finally circulated through the ship enough to chase off the worst of the chill, so when he begins to shiver even harder, you know it is not from the cold.

“Din,” you whisper, setting the knife down and bending towards his face. You lay your fingers to his cheek, your stomach falling when you find his eyes closed. “Din, you have to stay awake.”

His breath comes out in a grunt, his face twisting in pain. He whispers through his teeth again, “‘m awake.”

Turning, you throw the medkit open, finding electrolyte tablets by their bright yellow pouch and tear it open. You had read an old medical book as a teenager, finding every braille book you could get your hands on in the Moff’s extensive library. Braille is often only found in the driest and most rudimentary genres, but now you are thankful. You are by no means a healer, but you know enough that he is going into shock. You force his lips apart and shove the electrolyte tablets between his teeth, making a noise when he doesn’t respond.

“Chew them!” You yell, your voice becoming shrill in your panic. He needed water, too, but you didn’t want to leave him so you cup his chin and give his head a tiny shake. “Din!”

He grunts, and it takes him too long for your liking, but you can hear the soft clicking of the tablets breaking between his teeth. You turn back to the medkit and find several small glass bottles. You can’t read the print on them, and you struggle to find anything your eyes can make out aside from a syringe.

If you could fly the ship to a port, to a medical center, you would, but you can’t. There’s no way you can make it with your limitations beyond getting off the planet, and that wouldn’t be of any more help than being stuck here. You squeeze your fingers around the bottles before leaning back towards his face, tapping his cheek with your fingers.

“Din, open your eyes,” you say, soft and gently prodding. “Please, my love, I need your help. You have to tell me which of these is the anesthetic. I can’t see it.”

It’s good, you think, when he makes a heroic effort to lift his lashes, that you can keep him awake this way. If he falls asleep now, you know he will never wake up again.

“Is it this one?” You hold it up. He is too weak to shake his head, so he simply closes his eyes, and you want to cry. You truly do, but instead you hold another bottle in his line of sight. “This one?”

You do this for several turns before he grunts, lips pressed firmly and jerking his head in affirmation. You stab the syringe into the bottle, drawing the anesthetic as much as you dare and look back down at his back.

It will hurt, no matter how much you can give him, you realize, but removing the rest of his shirt will be the hardest part for both of you. You lay one hand on the back of his head to both steady and comfort him, and you slip the needle beneath his skin, biting your lip as you release the plunger. Once you’ve set those tools aside, you pick the knife back up and shift forward again.

“A-Alright,” you whisper, sniffling against the cold and your nerves. There is a tight, painful knot in your throat, but talking seems to ease the discomfort. You hope it might be of some comfort to him, too, might keep him awake. “I-I have to remove the rest.”

He says nothing, only seems to be focusing on breathing, so you take that as the only bit of encouragement you’ll get, and you use the knife’s tip to fold the top of the shirt backward. You aren’t sure if it’s your eyesight, the light, or the fact the burns are so spread out, but the shirt does not cling to the skin as terribly as you suspected. His gloves must be giving him more pain, you think, as you peel away the ruined, bloodied tunic and he does not move, save for a twitch of his boot.

The pattern against the golden skin of his back reminds you of fingers, licks of blood and blisters that gleam wetly under the faint yellow light. For a moment, looking upon the wounds, you feel as if you’re choking, a surge of terror rising in your throat.

It’s too much, you can’t do this, how are you supposed to do this?

Your hand grasps your throat, staring blindly at his ruined back while your other hand lays atop his own that weakly grips the hem of your dress. He is close to falling unconscious, close to never waking up, and a small voice within reminds you that if he had chosen someone else in that dirty, dusty cantina, they would know what to do.

His fingers twitch beneath your hand, a small movement that snaps your attention to the present like a hook reeling in a fish. You clamber up to your feet and cross the hull, movements muted and succinct. You take a cloth from a cupboard and dip it under a stream of cool water, sniffling and realizing you’ve been crying the whole time.

You ignore this and march like a stormtrooper back to the wounded man on the floor, rolling your sleeves up and kneeling like a supplicant before an altar.

It has been years since you read the medical book in the Moff’s library, but burns are a nasty business and are not easily forgotten. You knew better than to let the water run into the wounds themselves, nor did you disturb the blisters that could be disastrous. You cleaned the blood away, sniffling persistently as you worked. It was easy to do, uncovering the gold beneath the red.

Din grunts under your administrations, though you couldn’t be applying more pressure than a feather. The silence is suddenly too much for you, hearing his muffled noises of swallowing his pain. You want to fill the empty space before it makes you scream.

“Do you know how I knew those flowers weren’t poisonous?” you ask suddenly, thinking of Quanera and the fields of blue and purple flowers, of the baby that had babbled and happily given you and his father blooms of his choosing. “It’s all in the number of leaves. Though with all the frogs and lizards your son eats, I don’t think a flower would bother him much.”

You want to demand who did this to him, make him answer for this atrocity, but you can feel the fist he makes beside your leg, knowing how much it is costing him just to remain awake while you retrieve a bacta spray from the medkit. You pray it will be enough, pray it will flush out any chance of infection from the snow.

“Some flowers,” you go on, administering the spray from the base of his spine upward. It’s a fine mist that doesn’t make any noise, but you can see the muscle beneath the burned skin tense when he whimpers, burying his face against the unforgiving grooves of metal in the floor. “Some flowers become poisonous. Did you know that? When you make tea out of them and let them set overnight, they can become deadly.”

As if delicate things could turn dangerous, given enough time.

He will have scars, you think. Scars over the untouched planes of ocher skin you had caressed and felt when he made love to you. It breaks your heart when you reach the top of his shoulders, the back of his neck, feeling the charred ends of his curls where the fire has singed so much away. You know the burns cover the crescent moons your nails had once left, tokens of love and desire no longer bearing the evidence of the first time he put his mouth on you.

“S-Stop,” Din whispers, his voice no more than a hoarse rasp. He sounds deathly, faint and hanging onto the last vestiges of his energy. “Please, stop, Cyare, it hurts.”

“I’m almost done,” you implore, biting your lip. There is a small canister of burn salve in the medkit, meant for minor wounds from the sun or being in the kitchen. You don’t know if it will have any effect, but your limited knowledge prevents you from not trying anything. You scoop the salve out, careful to use it on the worst parts because there is so little of it.

You are halfway down his back when suddenly he begins trembling from head to foot so hard that you can hear his teeth knocking together. Your arms hang still, your eyes rolling upward to his whitened face.

“Din?”

You set the canister down, moving until you can turn his cheek upward. Sweat the size of slugthrower bullets wet his face and dampen his hair, and his eyes are squeezing tightly shut. Every word is forced, breaking in desperation. “T-Too much,” he whispers, and you think you see him bite his lip, marble teeth piercing flesh. “‘S t-too mu-much-”

You don’t know, then, if he is going to live. The tears that washed your face and the panic that you had swallowed both come back, and you grab his hand between both of yours, holding his burned fingers to your lips. “You said I wouldn’t be without you, don’t-! Please, please don’t-don’t leave me.”

But then, he does.

It’s not sudden or dramatic, like you have always imagined something like death is. In fact, it is quiet, soft, and quick, a gentle brush of air that disturbs the hem of your dress, and his entire body goes slack against the rough metal floor.

“N-No, no-” Your hands cup the back of his neck quickly, your other hand turning his face enough to pat his cheek. His eyes flutter, but no breath disturbs your fingers from beneath his nose. “Din!”

Tears the size of credits well in your eyes and begin falling, soaking your cheeks as you pat desperately at his face, his shoulder, his arm, whimpering when he continues not to move.

“Wake up-” Your lungs catch on the words, swallowing and choking on them like some kind of live creature wriggling between your ribs. Your mouth breaks open on a silent, raw sob, shaking his shoulder faster, harder, blinded by brine and panic. You draw his head into your lap, desperately trying to get him to wake, whimpering against the charred, sweat dampened black curls at the crown of his head. You rock him quickly, hoping touch will somehow bring his tattered, bloodied spirit back to you. “-You said, you promised-you said you would be here,” you choke, squeezing your eyes closed and bending over his head. “Y-You promised!”

If you just hold him tighter, you think wildly-so, so blind-he will wake up. He will.

And then, he does.

This time it is sudden, harsh and visceral like a fish breaking the surface of a choppy ocean. His arms strike out on either side of him, and he chokes on his own breath, gasping and coughing into the soft fabric of your skirt. You jerk backward, stunned and eyes widened to look down at his broken, torn body.

There, tucked near his side, you find the tiny green child pressing his two three-fingered hands against his father’s flank. Your heart will surely come up, you think, staring in awe at the little one’s ears twitching, his eyes narrowed into slits of concentration.

You are too shocked, too indignant in what you conceive to be happening to react. Din clutches at your lower half in desperation, and you watch in fearful rapture as the torn, burned flesh of his back is slowly knit together. Blisters melt away like water, the deeper slashes the fire left behind sewing themselves as if there had only been too much sun shining upon the son of Mandalore.

The child falls over abruptly, and you have to reach forward to catch him before his tiny head connects with the hard steel grating. His skin, upon closer inspection, is pale, a sickly non-color that makes you feel queasy, and he lays against your shoulder as if he is overheated, panting quietly. You cup the back of his head, turning your own ashen face down upon the Mandalorian.

He lays panting too, his entire body now drenched with sweat. His eyes are still shut tight, but the air flowing through his nose in harsh puffs gives you enough strength to stand on shaky legs. You find the medical bunk opened, the pram’s shutters parted like a well-cracked egg. You don’t know how he managed to get out of both, but you lay him inside the pram once more, pressing your hands against the steel wall and taking a deep breath.

Din’s back is smooth once again, save for a small spattering of scars you’ve felt before. His skin is heated, and you wonder if the child had to stop short, couldn’t quite draw out all of the damage. You had seen workers at the Moff’s estate with burns from the sun, spending too much time outside. You don’t know how long you sit beside him, your hand petting the middle of his back.

You do know that when he wakes, he will tell you everything that happened.

You also know that whenever you sleep, your blaster will be within your reach.

Mando’a Translations:

Cyare - Beloved

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#The Lovely Moons #The Mandalorian fanfiction #The Mandalorian x Reader #The Mandalorian x you #Mandalorian x you #Mandalorian x reader #Din Djarin #Din Djarin x you #Din Djarin x reader #my fic #my writing #oof #hope this is...ok

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thesonwillrise · 3 years

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From My Home to Yours

Where e-waste goes and what it does once it gets there

Reality Show by Fredo de Luna

Like me, you’ve probably never wondered past the pleasures you’ve taken out of your everyday “smart” objects or devices. They bring us the ability to experience life on an otherwise unimaginable scale. We experience joy, laughter, sadness, and an emotional rollercoaster of in between emotions with friends, family, strangers, or just our lonesome. The best part of enjoying our products is knowing that something “better, faster, smarter, thinner” is just around the corner waiting to be unearthed to the general population with the latest and greatest packed into a compact platform. Stop me if you’ve heard this one already but, “This is our best…ever made”.

Usually, that’s all it takes to immediately want to discard your current devices; not that you need to have it, but you want to have the latest desirable product on the market. Trends can be dangerous in more ways that are less obvious. To put this into perspective for you consider this; “In every 1 million recycled cell phones, 35,274 lbs. of copper, 772 lbs. of silver,75 lbs. of gold, and 33 lbs. of palladium can be recovered.” [2] That is a lot of precious metals! Yet “In 2016 roughlyonly 20% of global waste was collected and properly recycled” [2]. Which begs the following question. Have you ever stopped and ask yourself what happens once you decide your old smartphone or electronic devices are no longer worth keeping?

For those of us living in First World nations such as Canada, The United States, Japan, The European Union (to name a few) this is more of an afterthought than anything else. For all we know, we have a recycling program where our waste is collected and disposed of accordingly. Heck, once it’s in the trash it’s really not your problem; you’re doing your part to save the environment one sorting bin at a time and for that, you deserve a pat on the back. Or do you?

Do you really know what happens to your e-waste? Well, let me explain what happens to your e-waste. At some point your e-waste will journey from your home to a recycling facility, eventually, the more troublesome components that are too difficult to breakdown are exported from your country and imported into developing nation such as West Africa, India, China, Vietnam, or The Philippines (to name a few). Why has my garbage ended up on the other side of the world and what is it doing there you may ask? Well, in short, developing nations are paid to import your e-waste. There is typically an agreement in place between developed nations so that they can continue to send their garbage elsewhere instead of keeping the majority of it within their own borders. What happens next takes place at various landfill sites in these developing nations.

Firstly, there is a process coined informal recycling. This is a term that is used to describe manual (usually hard) labour whereas marginal groups are used to further break down these products or otherwise mine for precious metals such as gold or silver. The conditions are less than ideal and do an extenuating amount of harm to the local and external ecosystems in neighbouring communities, towns, cities, or even other countries. The damage occurs in many different instances which upset the delicate balance of the environment.

Environmental Disaster by Alex Proimos (CC-BY-NC 2.0)

Let's take a closer look at air pollution in the atmosphere. This typically occurs when open-air burning is used to separate precious metals instead of a more refined process like an incinerator. These heavy metals such as mercury, beryllium, lead, cadmium, arsenic, and brominated flame retardants are extremely toxic. From this process, alone harmful particulates are released into the atmosphere which is carried by the wind into neighbouring ecosystems the results for which are more clear long term similar to the immediate effects on the individuals involved in this process.

The workers involved in these hazardous conditions are typically the first ones to be impacted directly through the absorption of heavy metals into their bodies via dioxins or persistent environmental pollutants (POP). A study concluded, “humans working with, and around electronic waste showed elevated blood levels of metals” [1] similar to the ones mentioned earlier. This is very unfortunate as the majority of these individuals who have had direct exposure to these toxins will develop long term illnesses such as cancer, organ damage, neurological damage digestive problems, bone issues and respiratory ailments. Also, with the accelerated output of dioxins into the air young mothers without the appropriate level of access to medical care can develop a build-up of dioxins in their breast milk which in turn is passed on to infants via breastfeeding. This is a cascading effect as the amount passed on usually exceeds The World Health Organization (WHO) tolerance for young infants affecting many future generations to come with similar ailments. You should know “dioxins accumulate in human bodies for roughly 7-11 years”.[4]

So now that you understand better how the labourers are affected let's dig further to see what happens when these toxins from e-waste are not properly contained and leach into the soil. The obvious result here is the “soil-crop food pathway” [2]is contaminated. Once the soil has been corrupted with heavy metals the crops are also essentially poisoned. This disrupts their agricultural production as the once nitrate rich farmlands become desolate and baron. Food yield is impacted not just for the human population but the animal ones as well.

Furthermore, to the soil being the tipping point let’s continue to burrow down and see the effect on groundwater. The obvious conclusion here is that it becomes contaminated with heavy metals too, which can leak out into nearby streams, ponds, lakes and rivers to do further harm. The water essentially becomes toxic, the inhabitants of those ecosystems develop higher levels of toxicity which means any fish or aquatic organisms become dangerous to consume

Water Pollution in China by Bert Van Dijk (CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

So, as you can see from my home to yours there is a series of very precise actions that result in the perpetuation of instability as a result of how e-waste is exported to offshore developing nations. In our next post, we will more closely explore the limiting factors that impact the ecosystem further. In the meantime, if you would like to learn more about this growing concern the BBC has written an excellent article worth exploring.

Sources:

Hunt, A., Bailey, M., Buglioni, M. B., & Berry, M. (2018, April 28). The story of Canada's digital dumping ground. The story of Canada's digital dumping ground | Open Case Studies. https://cases.open.ubc.ca/w17t2cons200-26/.

Leahy, M. (2020, December 15). [web log]. https://www.rubicon.com/blog/electronic-waste-problem/.

McAllister, L. (2013, April 4). The Human and Environmental Effects of E-Waste. PRB. https://www.prb.org/resources/the-human-and-environmental-effects-of-e-waste/.

World Health Organization. (2016, October 14). Dioxins and their effects on human health. World Health Organization. https://www.who.int/en/news-room/fact-sheets/detail/dioxins-and-their-effects-on-human-health.

Mahy, E. (2020, February 17). Can we fix our way out of the growing e-waste problem? BBC News. https://www.bbc.com/news/business-51385344

Gutberlet, Jutta. (2018). What is Informal Recycling?. 10.13140/RG.2.2.19094.65606. Task Group Informal Recycling: Brochure on informal recycling

#e waste #third world #landfill #recycling #ecosystems

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