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I just realized I haven’t crossposted my Earth-63 fics to Ao3???? how’d I miss those? rectifying that shortly!
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CSCI E63 Big Data Analytics Final Project Data Visualization with D3 - 15 mins
Final Project Submission for Teresa Dong for the Spring 2014 Harvard Extension School Course CSCI363 Big Data Analytics.
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CSCI E63 Big Data Analytics Final Project Data Visualization with D3 - 15 mins
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Only With the Falling of the Dusk
Chapter 3
Chapter 1: link
Previous: link
Warnings: spooky scary skeletons, canon typical violence
[[MORE]]Ricki’s next conscious thought was a haze of disjointed sensations: the muffled sound of voices speaking around her, a cold surface pressing against her back, and a dull ache spreading through her limbs. Shadowy figures wearing porcelain white masks surrounded her, their cold, expressionless faces standing out eerily in the dim light and contrasting oddly with the medical scrubs they wore. She tried to move, to defend herself, but her muscles felt like they were encased in lead. She aimed a punch at the nearest person but her arm was caught easily and instead, she felt a needle slide into the crook of her arm and then…
She blinked and the people were gone, the voices quiet. The hard, uneven ground beneath her and the faint echo of dripping water told her she was no longer above ground. Everything still felt distant and hazy, her thoughts jumbled. The air was damp and cold, carrying the faint scent of decay and earth. She pushed herself upright, her limbs trembling with the effort, and immediately doubled over as a wave of nausea hit her. She forced herself to breathe slowly, leaning her head on her knees until the sensation passed.
“Oracle, can you hear me?” She asked, activating her comms. Nothing but silence greeted her. She cursed under her breath, realizing she was truly alone. “Enable logging mode to send as soon as possible.”
She paused, the faint sound of something scraping over the rocks catching her attention. It was probably just a rat but…she needed to get moving just in case. Ricki pushed herself unsteadily to her feet, swaying slightly, and stumbled forward, using the cave wall as a guide.
“It was a setup. I was drugged with chloroform, maybe something else.” Ricki continued, tripping as her feet crossed in front of each other. “Shit. It’s wearing off but I have no idea how long it’s been.” Pretty long, she imagined, considering they’d managed to get her down here.
The caverns could have stretched for miles or mere feet, Ricki wasn’t sure, all she knew was that each new hallway seemed only to lead to another dead end. She rounded another corner and froze, squinting in the dark at what appeared to be fabric walls rather than stone. A circus tent?
Ricki’s heart pounded in her chest as she blinked hard, trying to clear her vision. The fabric walls of the tent rippled lightly, as if caught by a breeze that didn’t exist. Her breathing quickened, the tightness in her chest growing. The tent was an impossibility; she knew it wasn’t real, couldn’t be real, but her senses were telling her otherwise. Her legs moved on their own, carrying her towards the center ring, knowing already what she would find.
“I don’t want to relive this…” Ricki whispered, her eyes glued to the broken trapeze swaying above her.
Ricki’s heart hammered against her ribs, her breath coming in shallow, rapid bursts as she stood frozen beneath the ghostly trapeze. The phantom tent loomed around her, its colorful fabric faded and tattered, like an old photograph. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to turn away, to run, but her legs refused to obey. They had somehow dragged her here, back to the place where everything had gone wrong.
The trapeze swayed gently, taunting her with the memory. She could see them now - her mother, graceful and strong; her father, full of confidence. They moved in perfect synchrony, like they always had, their performance flawless - until the moment it wasn’t.
The snap of the rope, the gasps of the crowd, and then the sickening thud that had haunted her nightmares ever since. It had been so final, so quick, so instantaneous; it never felt right that it had happened so fast and yet every time Ricki saw it again it was in slow motion.
She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms through her gloves as she forced herself to look away. This wasn’t real. It was a hallucination, a side effect of whatever they had drugged her with. She took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to focus on what she knew was real - the scent of earth, the dripping of water, the feel of stone beneath her feet.
Ricki pressed forward, rounding another corner, sending something small and hard skittering with her foot as she nearly tripped again. On closer inspection, the object appeared to be an old digital camera, similar to something she’d carried around in middle school. The screen was cracked, the lens shattered, and the paint scuffed but, miraculously, it still turned on.
The small screen flickered to life, casting a faint, ghostly glow that barely illuminated the surrounding darkness. The battery icon flashed red, warning her it didn’t have much time left. She held her breath as she navigated to the last recorded video.
The footage was shaky, the timestamp at the bottom corner indicating it was nearly twenty years old. The image showed a man, maybe in his early thirties, his face pale and eyes wide with terror. His voice was a hushed, frantic whisper, barely audible over the distorted background noise.
“They’re not human,” the man hissed, glancing over his shoulder as if expecting something to leap out of the shadows. “They’re not- these things! I warned them, I told them- they’re a crime against nature! Against God and man! They don’t stop, they don’t sleep, they’re always hunting-” He froze, face paling somehow even further at a scraping sound a high-pitched hiss. “No- no! Please!”
The view fell from the man’s grasp, clattering to the ground as the horrible hissing sound rattled through the speakers along with the man’s final agonized screams that cut short much too quickly. The video had hours left but the battery warning flashed once more before Ricki was left in silent darkness again.
Ricki’s fingers tightened around the camera, the last remnants of the video replaying in her mind, the man’s terrified expression seared into her thoughts. A shiver ran down her spine as the hissing from the video seemed to echo around her.
She needed to move but her body was still sluggish, the lingering effects of the drugs making her feel as though she were wading through thick mud. Every step she took was heavy and deliberate, as she fought to stay alert. She pocketed the camera and trudged on, determined to find an escape.
The sound of hissing grew louder, more distinct. The hair on the back of Ricki’s neck stood on end but she forced herself to continue at a steady pace, certain that running would only alert the creature (creatures?) to her presence. She took a deep breath, feeling some of the fog clear finally from her mind.
The scraping of claws and another hiss from directly in front of her had Ricki freezing in place, eyes scanning the path and wall. The creature emerged slowly, its glowing eyes piercing through the darkness; she could just make out the shape - humanoid but in a way that felt…wrong, its limbs long and thin, bent at slightly unnatural angles. Ricki’s eyes widened as the thing crawled out of an old sewage pipe high in the wall, its movements inhumanly fluid and quick. The creature was wrapped in filthy, tattered bandages, its skin almost entirely hidden beneath the layers of cloth - what skin was visible was pale and leathery with a grey tinge. It twisted its head at an odd angle, goggles reflecting a sickly yellow-green light as it hissed at her, the sound somewhere between a screech and a growl.
Ricki reached behind her for her escrima sticks, immediately sinking into a defensive pose. The creature crawled down the wall effortlessly like a spider, setting all of Ricki’s nerves on edge. She let out a slow breath, her grip on her escrima sticks tightening.
“Alright, ugly, let’s dance.”
The creature’s hissing grew louder as it lunged at her, faster than she’d anticipated. Ricki barely had time to dodge, backflipping out of reach and spinning her left escrima stick, adjusting her grip to activate the electricity.
“Easy now.” Ricki crooned to the creature, almost mirroring its animalistic crouch as it stalked around her.
The creature didn’t respond to her words, its gaze fixed on her with a single-minded intensity that sent a cold shiver down her spine. It moved with a jerky, disjointed grace, like a puppet controlled by invisible strings, its glowing gaze never leaving her.
Ricki circled with it, keeping her breathing steady, her movements fluid, waiting for the creature to strike again.
The creature lunged once more, a blur of bandages and claws. Ricki flipped sideways, swinging one of her escrima sticks to connect with its side. The impact sent a jolt through the creature, causing it to convulse and emit an ear-piercing screech that echoed through the cavern. But it wasn’t enough to stop it.
The creature hissed again, recovering from the electric shock faster than she expected. It scrambled back up the wall, its movements erratic, as if the electricity had only made it more agitated.
Ricki took a deep breath, flinging one of her escrima sticks at the creature. It dodged, as she anticipated, but the stick ricocheted off the wall and struck the creature from behind, knocking it to the ground again and disorienting it just long enough for her to close the distance.
Ricki threw herself at the creature with all the force she could muster, tackling it to the ground. She pinned it down, using her remaining escrima stick to press its neck against the cold stone floor. The creature thrashed beneath her, its talons swiping wildly, but she held firm.
“Stay…down…” Ricki hissed through gritted teeth.
The creature screeched one more time before finally going limp. Ricki remained on top of the creature for a moment longer, her breaths ragged and heavy as she waited for any sign of movement. The cavern was silent save for the echo of her breathing and the distant dripping of water. Slowly she lifted the escrima stick, her hand trembling as the adrenaline that had fueled her began to ebb away. Up close, the creature only seemed more disturbing. Its fingers were unnervingly long, each ending in a sharp, almost metallic point, and they glistened in the faint light.
Ricki wiped the sweat from her brow, her skin sticky and clammy from the fight. This place felt like it was closing in on her, the air thick and heavy. She needed to keep moving. If this one had found her, others would follow soon enough.
Ricki stepped over the lifeless creature, her stomach twisting at the unnatural bend of its limbs, and retrieved her other escrima stick before pressing forward, one hand on the cave wall to guide her. The corridor narrowed into a cramped tunnel, barely tall enough for Ricki to stand upright. She pushed herself forward, half stumbling, until the narrow tunnel opened into a vast cavern. She stopped short, her breath catching in her throat.
The room stretched endlessly before her, the floor littered with a scattered mosaic of what could only be the skeletal remains of hundreds, maybe thousands of bodies. She stepped forward carefully, her boots crunching over bone fragments, the sound unnervingly loud in the otherwise still air. The cavern felt colder here and Ricki shivered, rubbing her arms as she took in the scope of the scene. To her right, a gaping chasm revealed a giant incinerator at the bottom, faint embers still glowing faintly, the faint scent of burnt flesh lingering despite the years that must have passed since it had last been used.
“What the hell happened here?” Ricki muttered, bending to inspect the remnants of clothing. There wasn’t much left but she could make out the designer tag of a fashion line that hadn’t produced a new item since 1911.
Ricki’s eyes narrowed as she scanned the cavern, her mind racing. It wasn’t just a mass grave - it was a mass execution site. The incinerator likely held hundreds more victims, nothing but ash now. The thought made her faintly ill.
“Oracle, I hope you’re seeing this,” Ricki said, scanning the area thoroughly with the camera in her mask as she searched for a way out.
Far across the cavern, Ricki finally spotted what looked like a ladder, though it was rusted and worn, clearly having seen better days. It led up to what might have been a door, partially obscured by shadows and webbing. Her heart skipped a beat. An exit.
“Just a little further,” she murmured to herself, using the mantra to keep her legs moving as she trudged forward. The chill in the air made her shiver, and the exhaustion from the fight with the creature gnawed at her muscles, but she refused to stop now.
As she approached the base of the ladder, Ricki hesitated, inspecting the structure. It was bolted into the rock wall, but the rust had eaten away at most of the bolts, leaving it precarious. She clenched her jaw, knowing she didn’t have the luxury of time. Behind her, the soft, echoing scrape of claws against stone reminded her that the creature she had fought wasn’t alone.
“One step at a time,” she whispered, gripping the cold metal with both hands. It flaked beneath her fingers, and she could feel the rungs groan under her weight as she began to climb. Each movement was careful, deliberate, and she kept her gaze fixed upward, refusing to look down into the darkness below.
Halfway up, the ladder shifted with a metallic screech and Ricki froze, pressing herself against the wall, her heart hammering in her chest. She held her breath, every muscle tense as she waited for the inevitable collapse, but the ladder held - barely.
“Come on, come on,” she muttered through gritted teeth and resumed her climb. It felt like an eternity before her hand reached the top, her fingers brushing against the rough, cold stone floor of what she hoped was the exit. With a final heave, she pulled herself up, collapsing onto the marble surface, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she gasped for breath.
The air was different here - stale but not as oppressive as the cave below. As she lay there, catching her breath, she took in her surroundings.
The room was small, circular, and empty save for a large bronze owl statue slightly off to the side, the center of the room little more than a hole that she suspected closed at one time like a trap door. Three small doorways surrounded the room however, it seemed two of them had been blocked off.
Ricki pushed herself to her feet, muscles groaning in protest. “Alright, let’s see what’s behind door number 3.”
Ricki’s steps were slow and deliberate as she moved toward the one open doorway, the soft echo of her boots against the marble floor the only sound in the eerie silence. Her senses were on high alert, every nerve humming with the possibility of danger as she stepped over the threshold and into what could only be described as a grand hallway.
Dim light filtered in through cracked windows, illuminating intricate carvings of owls that lined the walls, their eyes following her as she moved. The corridor was lined with faded paintings depicting scenes of figures in the same porcelain masks she’d seen on her captors - some kind of ritual or ceremony, she guessed. It gave the space an almost church-like feel, though the atmosphere was anything but holy.
The following room was massive and though it had fallen into disuse, there were still hints of the wealth that had gone into its construction. More marble floors stretched in front of her, dusty but uncracked, and towering bookshelves lined the walls, reaching up to a domed ceiling that disappeared into darkness. Ricki’s eyes roved over the space, taking in the grandiose fireplace on one side and the elegant furniture and grand piano on the other.
She approached the fireplace, her footsteps echoing against the marble. The stone mantel was chipped but there were still clear ornate carvings of owls perched along the edges, their eyes watching her with unsettling intensity. Ricki ran her fingers over the carvings, noting how the grooves were smooth from wear, likely touched by countless others over the years.
Barty’s voice crackled into her comms so suddenly she jumped, still on high alert for more of those creatures.
“Ni—w-ng? —- signal is-”
Ricki froze for a moment, pressing a hand to her comms. “Oracle, you’re cutting out. Say again?”
“Are — safe?” The comms buzzed loudly, cutting out anything else Barty said until, “tracking your —-tion. St– there.”
Ricki sighed in relief, though her heart still raced. She wasn’t alone anymore; Barty was monitoring her progress and that reassurance gave her the strength to push forward. Her eyes shifted back to the room as she moved past the fireplace and toward the shelves. It was clear whoever had inhabited this place had an obsession with owls - and it was unsettling how much thought had been put into even the smallest of details. She let her fingers glide over the spines of the dusty books, all bearing the same emblem of the owl’s face stamped into the leather.
“Bit flashy if you ask me,” Ricki commented, feeling much lighter somehow now that she had Barty on comms. It was familiar and something she hadn’t realized she’d missed.
Barty’s voice rattled through the comms again though not a syllable was coherent.
“Say again?” Ricki asked, pressing a hand to her comms again as though that could fix it. Moments later, Barty’s voice was finally clear.
“You’re in The Powers Club. In Gotham.”
Ricki froze at Barty’s words. The Powers Club? How the hell had she ended up there?
“That’s not possible,” she muttered, running her fingers through her hair, catching a few stray curls that had worked their way free from her ponytail during the struggle. “There’s no way there’s a tunnel that stretches from Gotham to fucking Blüdhaven. We’d know about it, B knows the caves better than her own name.”
“Maybe you weren’t taken there directly,” Barty suggested, his voice clearer now but still tinged with static. “You’ve been out of commission for hours, Ricki.”
“Hours?” Ricki echoed. “How many?”
“Six,” Barty’s voice crackled through the comms, sending a chill down Ricki’s spine. “We lost your signal in Lin’s apartment. I’ve been trying to trace you ever since.”
“Six hours…” Ricki muttered under her breath, her mind racing. That was enough time to drag her all over Gotham and Blüdhaven if they were efficient. She cast one more glance around the library, the dim light from the cracked windows barely illuminating the rows of dusty shelves and peeling wallpaper.
“Stay put,” Barty instructed, the urgency in his tone clear. “I’m sending backup.”
“Oracle, I swear if you-” Ricki started but Barty interrupted her.
“Batwoman’s already on her way. Stay there.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
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Only With the Falling of the Dusk
Chapter 2
Chapter 1: link
Warnings: blood
[[MORE]]Ricki’s fingers moved expertly over the various tools and gadgets strewn across the surface as she stood at her workbench, the only lighting from her laptop, the television, and a small desk lamp. She adjusted the wiring in one of her modified escrima sticks, fingers dancing across the fine strands of copper, the small blue light blinking on as she tested the voltage. With a satisfied nod, she set the stick aside with its twin.
Her phone buzzed against the wooden surface, the vibration cutting through the silence. The screen illuminated with a familiar name: Barty. Ricki hesitated, her brow furrowing as she debated whether to answer before finally doing so.
“I assume you aren’t calling for a friendly chat? What’s up?”
“Montoya said you were at the Chelsea Tunnel tonight,” Barty’s voice rattled through the speaker as Ricki set the phone down and moved on to tightening her grapple. “GCPD ruled it a suicide.”
The screwdriver slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor, and Ricki’s entire demeanor shifted. Her eyes narrowed, and she snatched the phone off the workbench, gripping it tightly. “What the hell do you mean they ruled it a suicide?”
“Closed the case faster than I’ve seen them close anything. Montoya’s pissed, that’s why he called Batwoman. Thought I’d give you a heads up before she contacts you, she knows you were there, she’s gonna want the real details.”
Ricki groaned, leaning against the workbench. “What’s Commissioner Gordon have to say on it?”
“She retired last year,” Barty said, his tone icy. “You’d know that if you kept in contact with any of us.”
Ricki winced internally. “Right. Look, send over the police report and let Brie know I’ll send her my findings later.”
“Fine. But you’re going to have to talk to her sooner or later,” Barty said and Ricki made a face, inspecting the chipped point on one of her darts.
“I choose later. Thanks, Barty.”
The call ended, leaving a tense silence in its wake. An email pinged moments later on her laptop, the faint blue light of the screen reflecting in her eyes as she opened the encrypted file and the police report Barty had sent flickered onto the screen. She skimmed the pages, her brows knitting together in disbelief. It was so clean it bordered on parody - no mention of claw marks, knives, or the unnatural position of the body. Instead, the report painted a picture of an unfortunate soul who had chosen to jump, using the abandoned tunnel as the perfect location to avoid intervention.
The photos were worse - not a claw mark or knife in sight and the body had clearly been moved, now lying unnaturally at the mouth of the tunnel. It would’ve been less work to rule it an animal attack, Ricki thought.
If the GCPD was sweeping this under the rug, there had to be a reason, and she wasn’t about to sit around waiting for another body to show up. Ricki pulled her Nightwing suit from its hidden compartment in the closet, sliding into the familiar fabric like a second skin. She retrieved her escrima sticks from the table, slipping them into their holsters, and set her mask in place. Tapping the hidden button on the side of her mask, the HUD flickered to life across her vision, displaying information from Oracle’s database. Ricki scanned through the latest reports of violent crimes in both Blüdhaven and Gotham, looking for any patterns that might connect to the attack tonight. Nothing.
She exhaled sharply, frustration simmering beneath the surface. She knew it would be a long shot. If the culprit was so determined to cover their tracks that they had the GCPD in their pocket, then it was unlikely there would be anything. Still, she’d been hoping for some sort of lead.
With Haly settled back into his bed with a chew toy and the TV still murmuring in the background, Ricki slipped out of her apartment window and into the Blüdhaven night. Her boots hit the fire escape lightly as she ascended, scaling the building with ease until she reached the rooftop. From there, she had a clear view of the city - the sea of lights flickering in the dark, a mirror of the stars above. The streets of Blüdhaven were quieter than Gotham’s but still carried an undercurrent of danger.
“Alright, Blüd, what’ve you got for me tonight?” Ricki murmured, tapping her comms to activate the police scanner.
Static crackled through the comms as Ricki settled into a crouch, her eyes scanning the cityscape below. The scanner cycled through the familiar frequencies, the rapid-fire chatter of police codes and updates humming in her ear. Nothing out of the ordinary. A few routine break-ins, a drunk and disorderly, a minor fender-bender. Nothing that warranted her immediate attention. Good.
Oracle’s icon flashed across the HUD, taking her by surprise - Barty didn’t make it a habit of stretching the commlink that far, he usually stuck to Gotham’s vigilantes.
“Nightwing: Delta protocol. Montoya was attacked - he’s safe, Hood got to him in time, but consider anyone who was on the scene a target.”
Ricki’s stomach twisted and she immediately set off, her grapple shooting to a nearby lamppost with a satisfying thwip as she swung herself along toward Lin’s apartment. “I don’t know any other officers that were present but Montoya will.”
“Might not matter if they’re in this person’s pocket.”
Ricki’s heart raced as she neared Lin’s apartment complex. If Montoya had been targeted, then whoever staged that crime scene tonight was tying up loose ends, and they didn’t care who they had to kill. Ricki landed on the fire escape outside Lin’s window with practiced ease, the slight metallic thud barely audible in the stillness of the night. The window was ajar but darkness swallowed the room beyond.
The dark interior of Lin’s apartment felt unnervingly still as Ricki slipped inside, every muscle tense. The living room was well-furnished though it looked to Ricki like it had come straight from the pages of an IKEA catalogue; neat, tidy, and classic boring beige. It looked like Lin hadn’t been home at all…but something still felt wrong. Off. Ricki crept through the apartment, listening for the faintest of sounds, eyes open for the smallest piece of evidence.
The kitchen was another story entirely. Deep gashes marred the linoleum floor, claw marks identical to those at the crime scene. Blood marred the tile, trailing toward the counter. Broken shards of a ceramic mug lay scattered around a toppled chair in a puddle of mixed coffee, creamer, and more blood. The coffee pot had rolled to the doorway, half its contents still inside.
“Oh no…”
Ricki’s breath caught in her throat, her pulse hammering in her ears. She stepped carefully over the broken shards, her eyes darting from one piece of evidence to the next. She needed to find out if Lin was still here - alive or dead. The blood trail led into the adjacent hallway as though she’d had been dragged. Ricki followed it, bracing herself as she pushed open the bedroom door to find…
Nothing. The bedroom was as empty as the living room and nearly as clean except for the blood streaked across the carpet. Ricki set her jaw and took a slow breath, her mind racing as she took in the scene. Someone had taken Lin but they hadn’t killed her yet, there was still time. Ricki scanned the room, searching for any sign, any clue as to where Lin might have been taken. Her gaze fell on the cracked screen of Lin’s cell phone lying near the dresser, smeared with blood. The lockscreen was of Lin, grinning brightly from a towel on the beach, sunglasses perched on her nose and curly hair partially hidden under a large sunhat. Ricki felt the first tendrils of genuine fear unfurling in her chest. Lin might be a pain in the ass but she didn’t deserve this. No one did.
“Lin’s gone,” Ricki reported into the comms, making her way back to the living room. She felt more on edge the longer she stayed and she didn’t like it. “They caught her in the kitchen. She might be alive but she’s lost a lot of blood.”
“Any sign of where they went?” Barty asked.
“No idea. I’ll keep you posted.”
The bitter, metallic scent of blood lingered in Ricki’s nostrils as she stepped back into Lin’s living room, her senses on high alert. She needed to move - every second wasted was a second Lin might not have, especially with the amount of blood on the floor. Her eyes flickered across the space, searching for any last shred of evidence, something that could clue her in on where they’d taken her partner. The heater clicked on and Ricki heaved a sigh, kneeling in the kitchen doorway to inspect the claw marks more closely.
A sweet scent overpowered the blood scent long enough for Ricki to identify it as trichloromethane before the floor rushed up at her and everything went black.
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CSCI E-63 Final Project: Shiny for Network Data Analytics - 15 mins
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CSCI E-63 Final Project: Shiny for Network Data Analytics - 15 mins
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I think you need to go through some stuff to really appreciate life and understand what it means to persevere, overcome and have faith. I think those tough times make you a stronger person.
Mercedes-AMG One man, one engine Handcrafted by Michael Kübler @f1mike28 in Germany Affalterbach.
Driving Performance is my Passion! Mercedes-AMG the Performance and Sports Car Brand from Mercedes-Benz and Exclusive Partner for Pagani Automobili. Mercedes-AMG Handcrafted by Racers.
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CSCI E63 Visualizing Big Data with D3 Shiva Ragi 15mins
CSCI E63 Big Data Analytics Final Project Data Visualization with D3 -Shiva Ragi 15 Minutes – Spring 2018. Dataset: Video Game …
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Kit de Vedação Rammer E63
O Kit de Vedação Rammer E63 é um componente essencial para a manutenção e operação eficaz de seu rompedor hidráulico Rammer. Projetado para garantir a durabilidade e o desempenho máximo do equipamento, este kit contém todas as vedações necessárias para manter seu rompedor em condições ótimas.
Características Principais:
Alta Durabilidade: Fabricado com materiais de alta qualidade para suportar…
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Authenticity is a collection of choices that we have to make every day. It’s about the choice to show up and be real. The choice to be honest.
The choice to let our true selves be seen. Being yourself is all it takes. If you want to impress someone don’t be someone else just be yourself.
Mercedes-AMG One man, one engine Handcrafted by Michael Kübler @f1mike28 in Germany Affalterbach.
Driving Performance is my Passion! Mercedes-AMG the Performance and Sports Car Brand from Mercedes-Benz and Exclusive Partner for Pagani Automobili. Mercedes-AMG Handcrafted by Racers.
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We are not put on earth for ourselves, but are placed here for each other. If you are there always for others, then in time of need, someone will be there for you.
Mercedes-AMG One man, one engine Handcrafted by Michael Kübler @f1mike28 in Germany Affalterbach.
Driving Performance is my Passion! Mercedes-AMG the Performance and Sports Car Brand from Mercedes-Benz and Exclusive Partner for Pagani Automobili. Mercedes-AMG Handcrafted by Racers.
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You have to dream before your dreams can come true. We all have dreams. But in order to make dreams come into reality, it takes an awful lot of determination, dedication, self-discipline and effort.
Keep your heart open to dreams. For as long as there’s a dream, there is hope, and as long as there is hope, there is joy in living.
Be careful what you water your dreams with. Water them with worry and fear and you will produce weeds that choke the life from your dream. Water them with optimism and solutions and you will cultivate success.
Mercedes-AMG One man, one engine Handcrafted by Michael Kübler @f1mike28 in Germany Affalterbach.
Driving Performance is my Passion! Mercedes-AMG the Performance and Sports Car Brand from Mercedes-Benz and Exclusive Partner for Pagani Automobili. Mercedes-AMG Handcrafted by Racers.
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My personal highlight of 2023 was the delivery of my AMG E63 S 4MATIC+ “The Dark Knight”.
Trust means a firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something. When we trust someone, we have confidence in them and in their honesty and integrity.
We believe that they will do the things they say they will. We recognize their abilities and strengths, and we place our faith in them.
Trust can be a fragile thing, but it is the foundation on which all relationships are built.
Building trust is crucial for the survival of your friendships, romantic relationships, and workplace connections.
You can do this by being open and transparent in the beginning being dependable, consistent, reliable and taking responsibility when things don’t work out quite how you planned.
Trust yourself. Create the kind of self that you will be happy to live with all your life.
Make the most of yourself by fanning the tiny, inner sparks of possibility into flames of achievement.
Best your Mike!
Mercedes-AMG One man, one engine Handcrafted by Michael Kübler @f1mike28 in Germany Affalterbach.
Driving Performance is my Passion! Mercedes-AMG the Performance and Sports Car Brand from Mercedes-Benz and Exclusive Partner for Pagani Automobili. Mercedes-AMG Handcrafted by Racers.
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My AMG E63 S 4MATIC+ “The Dark Knight”.
I feel the capacity to care is the thing which gives life its deepest significance. Caring about others, running the risk of feeling, and leaving an impact on people, brings happiness.
We won’t always know whose lives we touched and made better for our having cared, because actions can sometimes have unforeseen ramifications. What’s important is that you do care and you act.
The simple act of caring is heroic. You really can change the world if you care enough.
Mercedes-AMG One man, one engine Handcrafted by Michael Kübler @f1mike28 in Germany Affalterbach.
Driving Performance is my Passion! Mercedes-AMG the Performance and Sports Car Brand from Mercedes-Benz and Exclusive Partner for Pagani Automobili. Mercedes-AMG Handcrafted by Racers.