parachute suit

i know that as far as fanon goes, tony installed the parachute in peter’s suit in response to both pepper and rhodey’s falls, but if you think about it: he’d already given peter his suit by the time rhodey falls. so to me it’s more like tony installed that parachute in response to pepper’s fall, and then he watched rhodey’s with full awareness that he could have done something to stop it but didn’t because maybe he thought the war machine suit would be enough. so Extra Guilt there. next time he has an “avengers dying” nightmare, it’s rhodey bleeding on the ground in front of him, “you could have saved me, why didn’t you do more?”

Here’s is my thing..

If you are obviously bothered by someone so much, why are you spending so much time obsessing over them? If you dislike them, move along on your merry way. Eat a dick. Skydive without a parachute. Whatever suits your fancy.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

10

     In 1953, Col. Scott Crossfield would don a flight suit, parachute and helmet, then be secured to an ejection seat inside the cramped cockpit of a Douglas D-558-II Skyrocket. After weeks of planning and preparation, a four chamber rocket engine would thrust Crossfield into the history books, making him the first human being to exceed twice the speed of sound. During that golden age of flight test, few could dream that we would one day sip Champagne and watch movies aboard a double sonic airliner. Concorde would make that dream a reality.

     The joint Aérospatiale / British Aircraft Corporation Concorde flew at Mach 2, allowing passengers to enjoy opulence and comfort as they traveled from New York to London in 3.5 hours, not the 8 hours of a conventional airliner. Concorde flew for more than three decades as the first supersonic transport. It truly made the world a smaller place.

     One of only 20 built, tail number F-BVFA was the first ship delivered to Air France. She would roll up 17,820 flight hours over the course of 6,966 flights, culminating in one last landing at Washington Dulles International Airport for permanent display at Smithsonian’s Udvar-Hazy Center in Chantilly, Virginia, as the first Concorde to be permanently displayed in the United States.

.:Skydiving Disaster:. (Markiplier and Jacksepticeye One-shot fanfic)

((Disclaimer: This is NOT a ship fan fiction. In this fic, Mark and Jack are both heterosexual [just like how they are in real life], and Mark is dating Amy, and Jack is dating Signe))


Twenty-five million subscribers; such a large amount of people for just one guy. Jack never dreamed he would hit that kind of milestone in his YouTube career. For such a special occasion, he knew he had to do something grand…

but maybe this was a little much.

“Alright, alright. If we hit three hundred thousand dollars, Mark and I will go skydiving, and livestream it; I promise” Jack told his millions of fans on twitter, the day before starting the big charity livestream he’d be doing with his friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours into the livestream, Jack and his friends were all having a ton of fun. They played multiple different video games and occasionally answered questions from the chat, which was bombarded with hundreds of comments each second.

“Holy shit” Felix suddenly muttered as he looked at his phone, checking how much money they’ve raised so far.

“What?” Jack responded, the rest of the friends going quiet.

“We just passed three hundred thousand”.

Jack’s eyes widened, and he felt something he wasn’t expecting: dread. They actually did it?! That was A LOT of money for just one charity livestream…

That meant he had to…

“You know what that means, right Jack?” Mark laughed softly, all of them going quiet for a moment when Jack didn’t reply “uh…Seán?”.

Jack snapped out of his trance “U-Uh yeah! H-Holy shit, that’s amazing; I never thought we’d actually get to our goal” he said with a nervous chuckle. He then sighed softly “…Guess Mark and I are skydiving…”.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Aw, Seán…you’re shaking!” Signe said softly after Jack got his skydiving suit and parachute on.

“W-What? I-I am?” Jack stuttered in reply, swallowing the anxious lump in his throat.

“Yeah….are…you sure you wanna do this?” The Irishman’s girlfriend asked gently, a concerned expression across her face.

Jack forced a smile “Of course I’m sure! I promised my fans I would skydive, and there’s no way I’m letting them down” he leaned forward and gave Signe a  gentle kiss to the cheek “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry”.

Signe sighed “Alright….If you say so” she said with a sweet smile “I love you”.

Jack giggled softly “I love you too, Signe”.

The two hugged, before Signe walked away, going with Amy and one of the skydiving instructors to the landing area, where they’d eventually meet up with Mark and Jack.

“Ready, buddy?” Mark asked his Irish friend with a smile, being more excited than nervous. “U-Uh, yeah. I’ve never been more ready” Jack replied with a returning smile as he attempted to not appear as nervous as he really was.

The two friends got into the little white skydiving-plane, an instructor piloting it up into the air. The whole time, Jack kept to himself, breathing intensely, but quietly. Mark had a content smile on his face; he was also kinda nervous, but he was mostly stoked. The American turned his head towards the silently panicking Irishman “Hey, …are you okay, Seán?” Mark asked softly in a calm, gentle tone.

Jack forced a smile “Y-Yeah. I’m fine”.

Mark sighed softly “You’re scared, aren’t you?”.

Jack felt pathetic “..y-…yeah…I’m….terrified..”.

“Don’t worry, everything will be fine. We’re with professionals who know what they’re doing. If anything goes wrong, remember that you’ve got a spare parachute. Just try to stay calm and have fun” Mark advised with a friendly smile, hoping to comfort his nervous friend.

Jack let out a soft, half-nervous chuckle “..Thanks, Mark” he said, before giving a slightly more confident snicker “Guess I’m just gettin’ too old for this shit” he said, being 30 years old, while Mark was 31.

Mark laughed softly “Haha, we’re in the same boat here!” he said with a smile of amusement “Hey, how about we start livestreaming? Maybe that’ll help calm your nerves”.

Jack smiled and nodded “Y-Yeah, good idea. We needed to start streaming pretty soon anyway” he replied as he pulled out his phone to tweet to his followers that he and Mark were starting a livestream.

People started joining the stream pretty quickly, and soon enough, a few hundred thousand fans were tuning in and flooding the chat. The two men talked to their fans and each other, occasionally cracking jokes and laughing. Thankfully, this helped Jack calm down; good thing too, since he was on the verge of having a panic attack.

After a little while, it eventually came time to skydive, since they were now pretty high up. …But something wasn’t going according to plan. Mark raised a brow in concern and confusion when he started to notice this. With the livestream still going, He glanced over to where the pilot was sitting and saw that he was having some trouble with the controls. Jack turned around and noticed this as well, his paranoia starting to get to him again. Before Mark could give some advice to calm Jack down, a sudden, loud, mechanical noise sounded in the air. Neither Jack, nor Mark could comprehend what they just heard, but they both knew it wasn’t good.

The pilot let out a quiet string of cusses to himself as he made one last, futile attempt at fixing whatever had just happened. He huffed in defeat and made his way to the back after putting the plane in auto-pilot “This plane’s going to crash. We all need to get out now”.

Jack’s heart almost stopped “W-What?!”. The viewers of the livestream also started to freak out, speedily sending panicked messages such as:

“What’s going on???”.

“Did he just say that the plane was crashing?!”.

“Wtf is happening?!”.

Mark’s eyes lit up in surprise as he watched the pilot put a spare parachute on “W-Wait wait, where are you going?? You’re supposed to help us!” he said frantically, just before the man was about to jump out of the plane “There’s no time. I’m sorry” he said, jumping out of the plane immediately after.

Mark cussed in annoyance, turning to look at Jack. His heart sank to the pit of his stomach. The poor Irishman was cowering in his seat, shaking and biting his lower lip in absolute terror. Mark looked into his phone with a worried expression. He sighed shakily and heavily as he ended the stream and put his phone in his pocket.

The brown-eyed Youtuber stepped closer to his terrified friend “H-Hey, Seán. Don’t worry, everything will be alright. You just gotta stay calm, okay?”. Jack looked at Mark, fear in his ocean blue eyes “B-But….”.

“There’s no time to waste, Seán. We have to jump now” Mark said blatantly as he held his hand out “Here, we can go togeth-” Before he could finish what he was saying, the plane suddenly jerked in the sky, slowly losing the ability to control itself in auto-pilot. As a result of this, Mark stumbled backwards, slipping out of the plane. Jack shouted “M-MARK!”.

Mark didn’t have his parachute on yet.

Mark panicked and grabbed the edge of the plane, frantically trying to keep his grip so he didn’t plummet to his death. His whole lower half was dangling in the open sky, and he was just barely hanging on with his arms on the floor of the plane. He was slipping…fast.

Jack carefully got up, trying to keep his balance on the shaky plane as he attempted to make his way to Mark.

“N-No, S-Seán! D-Don’t come any closer” Mark shouted, his breathing heavy “I-It’s too dangerous! J-Just listen to me! Y-You need to-” Another shaking of the plane interrupted Mark once again. He yelled in panic as he slid down, now only holding on with both of his hands “Y-You need to jump to save me!” he screamed over the turbulence of the crashing plane.

Tears clouded Jack’s vision “B-But I can’t! I-I’m absolutely horrified of heights!” he cried out loudly, holding onto the inside of the plane.


“SEÁN!”. Mark’s sudden, loud holler made Jack’s eyes widened “WE’RE BOTH GOING TO DIE IF YOU DON’T-”. With one last sudden tremble of the plane, Mark lost his grip and finally fell. Jack shrieked, his tears rolling down his face as he watched his friend fall to his likely death.

The Irishman shakily stood up. He couldn’t be afraid anymore; Mark needed him more than ever. Jack grabbed his friend’s parachute and gulped, before finally jumping out of the plane. Thankfully, he already had his parachute on; since he was so anxious, getting his suit on distracted him when they were ascending in the plane.

Jack didn’t want to open his eyes, but he knew he had to. As his eye lids slowly opened, he saw the blue sky all around him, some clouds, the distant ground, and Mark. He reached to his friend, eventually being able to safely drop the parachute to him. Mark breathed a heavy sigh of relief as he grabbed the chute, immediately slipping it on over his shoulders.

The two men looked at their surroundings, feeling the wind blowing hard on their faces. They would’ve talked to one another, but the wind flying past their ears made too much sound. The feeling of perpetual falling was present, but the feeling of a finite fall was definitely there as well.

Finally, the time came for them to pull the cord to open their parachutes. Jack followed soon after Mark, watching his friend open his chute before opening his own.

Jack let out an anxious sigh of relief as his parachute opened up just fine, but he perked up and looked over toward Mark when he heard the sound of frantic rustling. His felt a horrible empty feeling in his stomach; Mark’s parachute had gotten tangled up. The blue-eyed man desperately tried to move over to Mark, but they were too far away from each other. The sudden anxiety attack quickly made him lose his breath, which caused him to fall unconscious.

When Jack landed on the ground, he laid in the grass safely, having no idea if Mark was okay or not.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“S̴̷҉e̴̷҉án͏?”.

A muffled sound filled Jack’s ears. He felt an awful feeling of dread; what happened to him? Where was he? …Was he…dead?

“S̴̷҉e̴̷҉án͏?!”.


Jack then recognized the sound as a female voice. He also started to regain feeling, being able to comprehend the fact that he was laying in prickly grass.

“Seán!”.

Signe’s panicked voice finally made itself familiar.

Jack’s eyes widened and he shot up, his breathing heavy. He looked behind himself, seeing the parachute he was wearing splayed out on the ground. He looked in front of himself, seeing his teary-eyed girlfriend. She quickly gave him a tight hug “Oh thank goodness you’re okay! I-I was so worried…”.

It took a second for the Irish Youtuber to process what had just happened, but he finally remembered jumping out of the doomed plane, and safely landing. He quickly hugged Signe back, holding her close. He was still shaking, but he felt the need to comfort his girlfriend instead of himself “I-It’s okay, I-I’m fine” he took a quiet deep breath “J-Just a little shaken up…”.

Signe stood up, helping her boyfriend to his feet in the process. “W-Wait, where’s Mark?? Is he okay?”.

Signe’s smile slowly dropped, and her joyful tears turned into worried ones.

Jack’s eyes widened in absolute horror “Oh god, …p-please….please tell me he’s okay…” he stated in a frightened tone.

Signe quickly replied “I-I don’t know ….h-he landed in a tree. Th-The paramedics are here, …I-I just came down here to get you” she said shakily.

Fear was all Jack could feel; one of his good friends could possibly dead…and….he would have to live with that guilt the rest of his life.

“C-C'mon, we need to see if he’s okay” Jack said as he took off his parachute in a hurried fashion. Signe nodded, and the two rushed over to a distant tree that was surrounded by an ambulance, a few paramedics, and Amy.

When they got there, they saw Mark’s tangled up parachute in the branches of the tall tree, and also the spare parachute. The paramedics were tending to Mark, who was laying in the grass. Tears coated Jack’s eyes, thinking that he was definitely gone, but his hopes were raised when he saw his friend’s chest slowly rise and fall.

Signe glanced over at Amy, seeing that her whole face was drenched in tears. Before she could speak to the stressed, dyed blond, a paramedic walked up to the three of them. She instantly noticed the worry on all of their faces “Don’t worry, he’s fine; he’s just unconscious right now”. Jack, Signe, and Amy all sighed quietly to themselves in relief. “He just has a broken leg. After the bone’s put back in place, we’ll take him to the hospital”.

Amy sniffled and wiped her face “O-Oh thank goodness…th-thank you so much”.

The lady nodded softly with a faint smile “Of course” she replied gingerly “It’s a good thing he had a spare parachute; that’s what saved his life”.

As Mark was carefully put onto a stretcher, he slowly started to wake up, feeling sore all over his body. Falling into a tree definitely wasn’t comfortable. At first, he was scared, but when he glanced over to the side and saw that Jack was safe, he felt relieved. He closed his eyes, just trying to relax as he was delicately moved into the back of the ambulance.

“We can give you all a ride if you need it. You can sit in the back of the ambulance; you should be able to talk to Mark once he wakes up, although he might be in a little bit of a daze” The paramedic said.

Jack, Signe, and Amy all glanced at each other, before Jack answered “Y-Yeah, that’d be really helpful. Thanks”.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack sat next to Signe, and Amy sat by herself, sadly looking at Mark, who had fallen into a light sleep.

They all were dead silent, until Mark slowly opened his eyes.

Amy perked up “M-Mark!”.

Mark smiled softly, gently rubbing his head “Amy…” he answered in a fragile voice. A wide smile crossed Amy’s face “I’m so glad you’re okay….h-how do you feel?”.

Mark shifted a little in the stretcher “Just sore; nothing I can’t handle though” he then looked over at Jack, giving the younger man a relieved smile “Seán. Glad to see you’re okay, buddy. I told you everything was going to be okay”.

Jack sighed “…But….your leg….” he protested quietly “…I…probably could’ve saved you much sooner. Maybe then your parachute wouldn’t have gotten tangled up..” he said, doubtful of himself. Signe gave a look of sorrow and gently rubbed her boyfriend’s back to comfort him.

“Hey, that doesn’t matter. I’m alive, aren’t I? It would’ve been so much easier to just not jump out of the plane, and you did. You saved my life, Seán. I owe you so much for that” Mark said softly with an optimistic smile.

“You don’t owe me anything, Mark” The Irishman responded quietly, faint tears in his eyes.

The American chuckled softly “Well, I think you at least deserve a thank you. You’re the reason I get to go back home to my friends and family” he said warmly.

Jack smiled “It’s…no problem” he replied softly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The plane ride home back to Brighton, England was surprisingly relaxing. Jack felt so at ease. The near death experience he shared with his friend is something he most definitely will never forget.

As Signe slept beside him, Jack just sat back in his chair, calmly listening to Alan Watts with his headphones. He’s never felt more appreciative of life than he does right now. Mark had a broken leg, but he was alive, and back home with his friends, all thanks to Jack.

takeshii  asked:

hannah montana please ; O; !

THREE PARAGRAPHS IS HARDER THAN IT LOOKS. JUST. FYI. I HAD A WHOLE THING GOING.

*

“No way, man.”

“Stiles—”

“We don’t need a bunch of goons following us around all day, Danny, we’re not that famous.”

“Yes, you are. You are now, Stiles. Things have changed since the last tour. This is necessary trust me—I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t think so, you know that.”

Stiles sighs and tips his head back against the wall. “And, you tried to use the hot mugshot to bribe me. I know you did.”

“Did it work?”

Stiles lifts the form with Derek Hale printed across it and squints at the professional head shot. He wants to protest but really? Danny knows exactly how to butter him up.

“Fine. Fine. But only if Allison and Scott and—”

“Everyone else already agreed, we were just waiting on you.”

“Alright, alright, but he better be fun.”

Danny snorts, “Does he look fun?”

Stiles gazes down at the picture again, reads the brief info paragraph telling him about Derek’s last job working for someone high up in the government, Jesus. In the personal box, Derek has written, 2 sisters; a dog; jokes from The Bodyguard are not appreciated.

“He seems super,” he drawls.

Keep reading

Leonardo Da Vinci Secrets

Personal 

Leonardo was reputed to have been the 12th grandmaster in the Priory of Sion (dating back to 1099, with the agenda of continuing Christ’s bloodline), as well as other later [well known] members including Isaac Newton, etc.

Leonardo’s studies and side annotations are written in reverse mirror writing, although it is unclear why. Some suggest it is due to him wanting to hide his messages from the casual observer, or due to the natural inclination of being left handed - which was less difficult for him and became a habit.

He also used sacred geometry when creating his paintings in order to enhance and achieve accurate proportions, e.g. the flower of life.

The pentagon is associated with the number phi, so is the positioning in the painting Mona Lisa. This number phi is also known as the perfect or golden ratio aka. 1.61803399. The golden ratio is the believed to be beautiful as it is seen many places in nature along with the Fibonacci numbers.

Leonardo also had numerous secret notebooks, which included ideas, drawings, and inventions, which have become lost - or well hidden, in time.

Da Vinci wrote secret notebooks in his own code of mirror (backwards) writing, which kept his sketches of airplanes, tanks, helicopters, underwater diving suits, and parachutes a secret. Da Vinci was far ahead of his time and his brilliant ideas were not even realised until centuries later.

In 1517, at the famous Chateau du Clos Lucé in Amboise, France, Leonardo da Vinci presented King Francis I with a gift in the form of a full-sized mechanical lion, so Leonardo in his time was able to create the first functional and self sustaining robot.

Between the years 1476 and 1478 there is a “gap” in his life. There is no written evidence for what happened in his life and why he mysteriously vanished during this time period. When he reappeared in Florence in 1478, his artistic skill was extremely amplified - leading to the belief that he received artistic help from otherworldly or extraterrestrial beings. Later it was found from his personal anecdotes:

 Leonardo details his youthful adventure finding a vast and mysterious cave, he describes being on the edge of this dark cave, and saying that he felt terrified by the darkness of that cave and what might be within it. On the other hand, he felt a certain desire to try to understand what was in there.

After his encounter with the cave one of the things that we see in the grotesque heads is a fairly marked departure from the natural appearance of the human body, the human face, even in its most extreme manifestation visually, the works are so compelling.

These studies raise questions as to whether Leonardo actually drew these figures from still life (such as the mysterious creatures that may have been in the cave) or were simply the products of his imagination.

The One That Captured His Heart

An Avengers imagine

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: ANGST!

You strapped a couple pistols to your legs and looked at your boyfriend. Steve was inserting a comm into his ear and watching you. “What?” You smiled.

“Nothing,” Steve responded, holding out a comm for you. You took it and inserted it into your ear. Steve pulled on his helmet then moved to the door of the quinjet. The hatch descended and Steve jumped from the quinjet.

“Did he have a parachute?” Bucky asked, coming up beside you.

“Nope,” you rolled your eyes. Bucky shook his head then began to put on his parachute. You followed suit then walked over to the hatch, waiting for the right time to jump.

When the quinjet got near enough to the boat, you, Bucky, and the agents with you jumped and released your parachutes. You guided yourself down to where Steve was. You noticed a man with a gun against Steve’s head. You pulled out one of your pistols and shot the man in the head.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Steve smiled at you.

“Yeah, like you needed my help,” you scoffed, moving to the edge of the boat. You hooked a line of cable to the railing, glanced over your shoulder, winked at Steve, then jumped over the railing.

You free-fell for a moment before the cable pulled taut and you were jerked to a stop. You slammed against the side of the boat, you hands and knees taking most of the shock.

You glanced in to the rather large window to your left and saw the control room. The boss sat in the middle of the room with a guard stationed on both sides of him.

“Y/N?” Steve muttered through the comms. “Are you in position?”

“Yes,” you responded, pressing against your ear so they would hear you.

“On my count,” Steve said. “Three…two…one.”

You ran to your right and pushed off the boat with your feet. You went flying through the he air, swerving to the right. You pulled your pistols from their holsters just in time to straighten out to go through the window.

The window shattered and you landed with cat-like agility in the middle of the control room. You shot the boss then pointed your pistols at the two guards.

Just as you pulled the trigger of your pistols, a searing pain ripped through your body. The focal point was a place right underneath your left breast.

You dropped your pistols and your hands immediately went to your wound. You fell to your knees in pain and lifted up your shirt to reveal where the bullet had hit you. It was bleeding profusely and you knew you wouldn’t be able to get it to stop.

“Shit,” you muttered.

“Y/N?” A familiar voice crackled in your ear. “Y/N!” It was Steve, you realised a moment later.

“Yeah?” you asked.

“Is the control room clear?” Steve asked.

You looked around then muttered “Yeah.”

“Then get back to the quinjet,” Steve commanded. You did as you were told. You pressed a button on your belt and the cable began to retract, pulling you with it. When you reach the deck of the boat, you pulled yourself over the rail and lay there for a moment.

The quinjet had landed on the very top deck of the boat. You still had five decks between you and the quinjet. You groaned but pushed yourself to your feet and began to walk to the stairs.

There were moments during your walk to the quinjet that you doubted you would make it but you shook your head, took a deep breath, and continued onward. The walk was long and felt more like a hike than a walk. When you got to the top deck the very first thing you noticed was that Steve was calling your name.

“Steve,” you called as loud as you could, which to be honest wasn’t all that loud. He turned, saw you, and sigh in relief, obviously not noticing the blood dripping from inbetween your fingers. He stepped toward you and you stepped towards him, but you stumbled and, if you hadn’t stabilised yourself against the wall, would have fallen.

Steve’s eyes swept your body and immediately a look of worry came on his face. He sprinted toward you and swept you into his arms, bridal style. He rushed towards the quinjet, yelling, “Y/N needs medical attention, immediately!”

Two emergency medics took you from Steve’s arms and began immediately on digging the bullet from your diaphragm. Steve stood helplessly off to the side, holding your hand tightly and looking into your eyes, a reassuring look in his.

A couple hours passed. You had been transferred to a hospital and the doctor was viciously trying to save your life but you could feel yourself fading. You could see Steve through a window, watching helplessly.

‘He changed his clothes,’ you observed, looking into his eyes, an apologetic look in yours.

“I love you, Steve,” you mouthed then everything went black.


Steve saw you mouth something to him and recognised it as I love you then your eyes closed. The machines started beeping and the doctor got suddenly frantic. They worked hard to restart your heart but nothing worked.

“Alright, I’m going to call it,” the head doctor sighed.

“Time of death: 12:52 A.M.” One of the nurses said.

Steve’s knees buckled and he would have fallen to the ground if it had not been for Bucky supporting him. The doctor and nurses disconnected you from all the machines and moved you to a different room.

Steve rushed to that room and knelt by your head. He dug in his pocket for a moment before pulling out a small velvet box. He opened it to expose a ring.

“Just before she died, my mom told me to give this to the girl who captures my heart and I guess that’s why it wouldn’t feel right to give it to anyone besides you,” Steve said, tears beginning to stream down his face.

He lifted your left hand and slipped the ring on your ring finger. Steve laid his head on your unmoving stomach and sighed heavily.

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

WW1 German Zeppelin crewman poses in his leather flying suit and parachute harness. (Source - The Drakegoodman Collection.) A total of 115 Zeppelin-type airships was used by the German military in the First World War. The army and navy lost 53 airships and 379 highly trained officers and men, and 24 airships were so damaged they could not be used again. The German Zeppelin fleet was used much more for reconnaissance missions than bombing, with over 1200 sorties flown over the North Sea alone.

At the office I had received part of my equipment. My papers: a ration card, a clothing card and an identity card, all made in England to the exact image of French ones. I was given money: 99,000 francs and 1,000 in small cash, and a little gun, a Czech .32. I was the only woman in a group of twenty-two men briefed to leave the same night.
[…]
We were led to a small hut where we received our last bits of equipment: a green-and-brown camouflaged parachute suit with long trouser-legs and dozens of zip-fasteners and pockets, a flashlight and spare batteries, a knife and a compass, a small flask filled with rum; even a sharp spade, tucked into a leg pocket, in case we had to bury our parachute ourselves.
— 

Anne-Marie Walters, SOE agent, on the equipment given to her before parachuting into occupied France in 1944.

Excerpt from Moondrop to Gascony, p. 33.

the 90s was a fashion disaster and anyone who says otherwise either is oblivious to the actual fashion trends or didn’t live through the 90s