#Thread Lifts

[modernbeautyjournal]

4 Ways to Give Your Skin a Tighter, Smoother Look

Skin laxity comes with age. While a properly maintained skincare regimen can do wonders for maintaining a youthful look, nothing can stop all of the changes that develop over time and cause once-taut skin to become loose. From lasers to fillers, neurotoxins to thread lifts, New Jersey’s skin-focused team at South Jersey Skin Care & Laser Center offers four suggestions for anyone who wants to address laxity and sagging.

But first, a look at what contributes to this unwanted skin change.

Time’s Changes

Youthful faces share many qualities: a clear and unblemished look, smooth texture, and healthily rounded contours that remain distinct and elevated.

Over time, however, many forces conspire to negatively impact that texture and those contours.

Most notably, ample levels of collagen are necessary for skin that has a strong supportive structure, which allows features to remain in a youthful position. Collagen breaks down over time, however, so that support gradually goes away. Without it, the apple of the cheeks can flatter, the midface can grow hollow, and tissues sag due to the resulting deflation. Skin that once sat higher on the face instead migrates downward, and a heavy look of jowls can obscure the jawline.

Similarly, elastin is bountiful in youthful looking skin, giving it an ability to be stretched and pulled, but always to “bounce back” into the smooth and taut shape it was before. As elastin breaks down, skin loses its resilient elasticity. That means it’s less able to “snap into place,” so it remains in a state of laxity.

Beneath the surface, healthy subcutaneous fat stores can also diminish and slide downward, leading to changes in overall facial contours and shape. Below that, bones eventually begin to recede, causing a further “sunken-in” look and leaving the skin above—which is less able to retract and tighten—sitting even looser than before.

Thread Lifts

One counter to the downward slump is a thread lift. This treatment involves the insertion of specialized threads, which provide multiple functions. Once in place, they hold facial tissues in an elevated position, which restores more youthful contours. The threads themselves also stimulate production of collagen and elastin, which creates more natural support and healthy elasticity. After the threads break down, these powerful proteins remain, for longer-lasting effects. In other words, patients get an instant result that improves over time.

Fractional Laser Treatments

Laser light can be an ideal strategy for skin lacking in collagen, elastin, and more. The energy generated by the treatment creates micro-channels in areas where skin is lax, with each tiny wound causing the skin to ramp up the creation of new collagen and elastin for repairs. In addition to closing off the miniscule channels, this work also improves the texture, health, and firmness of the skin. Heat can also coagulate remaining collagen, which allows it to even out and create a smoother, more uniform surface.

Dermal Fillers

The equation is simple: If volume is lost, volume can be added back in. That’s the premise of injectable dermal fillers, which are typically a hyaluronic acid-based gel that fills in hollows below the surface. Like adding more air to a deflating balloon, these injections push the surface back out again, helping it to appear tighter and firmer. There are also injectable fillers that stimulate collagen production for a long-lasting natural enhancement.

Wrinkle Relaxers

While not technically a skin-tightening treatment, BOTOX® and other injectable wrinkle relaxers can provide an effect that helps the surface to appear taut and smooth. Whether targeting the forehead, neck, or areas between, wrinkle relaxers can be ideal for patients who want a minimalist approach with subtly refreshing results.

All of these options can be ideal for patients who want to make a change, but who are wary of surgery and the risks it entails—as well as the downtime and unwanted side effects.

Want to learn more about the various ways of countering skin laxity that comes with age? Contact South Jersey Skin Care and Laser Center to book a consultation online or call 856.810.9888 to get answers to questions or arrange a visit. Tara Avallone, LME, Cosmetic Consultant for South Jersey Skin Care, offers complimentary initial consultations.

[kaneinstitute]

Top Benefits of Thread Lifts: Lift and Tighten Without Surgery

Thread lifts have quickly become a popular non-surgical alternative to traditional facelifts, offering a range of benefits for those seeking a youthful appearance with minimal downtime. Here are the top advantages:

1. Non-Invasive Treatment

Thread lifts are non-surgical, meaning there’s no need for general anesthesia, cuts, or stitches, making them a low-risk option for facial rejuvenation.

2. Minimal Recovery Time

Unlike traditional facelifts, thread lifts require little downtime, with most patients able to resume daily activities within a few days.

3. Immediate and Long-Lasting Results

Patients experience an immediate lift, with gradual collagen stimulation over time leading to longer-lasting results that continue to improve for several months.

4. Natural-Looking Outcomes

The results are subtle and natural, enhancing facial contours without looking overly done or unnatural, which is a common concern with more invasive procedures.

5. Stimulates Collagen Production

The threads used during the procedure encourage the body to produce collagen, leading to firmer, smoother skin that improves the texture and elasticity of the treated area.

6. Customizable Treatment

Thread lifts can be tailored to individual needs, focusing on areas like the jawline, cheeks, and neck for a personalized aesthetic result.

7. Quick Procedure

The treatment is relatively quick, typically lasting only 30 to 60 minutes, making it ideal for busy individuals looking for a quick solution to signs of aging.

8. Affordable Alternative to Surgery

As a non-surgical option, thread lifts are often more affordable than traditional facelifts, offering a cost-effective way to rejuvenate the face.

Thread lifts are a great option for individuals who want to lift and tighten sagging skin without the risks, scars, or long recovery times associated with traditional facelifts. With natural results, minimal downtime, and added benefits like collagen production, it's no wonder this procedure has become increasingly popular for facial rejuvenation.

[vividskinandlasercenter]

Thread lifts are minimally invasive cosmetic procedures designed to lift and tighten sagging skin on the face or neck using dissolvable threads. These threads are inserted under the skin to provide a subtle lift, improve facial contours, and stimulate collagen production. At Vivid Skin and Laser, our mission is to provide you with the most advanced aesthetic and laser techniques to help you achieve beautiful and healthy skin.

[lindsaymoran12]

General Practitioner and Cosmetic Physician Australia

Dr Lindsay Moran graduated from the University of Leeds Medical School, UK, in 2005 before training as a GP and Cosmetic Physician. She gained her cosmetic training in London in 2008 and has practiced both in the UK and in Australia, working for a number of cosmetic companies before running her own private practice. She moved to Melbourne in 2013 and now works as a GP at the Showgrounds, a Cosmetic Physician and she the Academic Medical Student Mentor for the University of Melbourne.

With 10 years of experience behind her, she is an experienced injector specialising in anti-wrinkle injections and dermal fillers.

[forgivenpunishment]

crash and burn (and don't look back)

⩥ @orangetintedglasses || plot continuation

Wolfwood hadn't expected a red carpet welcoming him to the facility or anything, but he'd be lying if he told himself that the Eye of Michael's preparations—or lack thereof—weren't a bruise to his ego. Considering how obvious it is that this facility in the middle of nowhere with its own extensive power grid is the one holding Vash, it's surprising that there aren't nearly enough defenses outside to hinder the undertaker as he storms forward with his goal in the forefront of his mind.

Puppets—of all things—have been his main enemy thus far. Like… from the creepy puppet guy. Wolfwood doesn't know much about Knives's knife drawer, but he's seen the cartoonish puppeteer and found himself unimpressed. Truly, this is a man they intend on throwing in for fodder and not one intended to do any real physical damage to anyone without a gun, because this is pathetic.

Punisher tears through vehicles and weapons and reinforced doors without mercy, the man behind the gun unrelenting in his warpath. Those damned human-like puppets crumple to pieces after one concussive blow or a few stray bullets. Wolfwood finds himself yet to take a hit, even as the scenery shifts from that of an industrial yard to one of a laboratory crafted in true Eye of Michael fashion.

Here is where he begins to encounter real people—well, as real as anyone from the Eye gets—and it's time for him to get serious.

He'd been prepared to slay anyone who got in his way today, but even now his fingers hesitate before pulling Punisher's trigger. What's wrong with him? These people are so far gone—and!!—they have Vash captive. So why does it sting when thoughts of Vash wincing with each meaty slap of bullet on flesh flood his mind? Why does the idea of watching Vash meander through blood-stained halls and seeing the way he mourns people who wanted to hurt him turn his stomach so bad…?

Fine. Fine. Vash wins this time. He doesn't have the time to deal with this petty morality, doesn't have time to weigh individual sins before issuing his own personal judgment day—

Thankfully, faces don't take kindly to the broad end of the Punisher. It's probably for the best that he saves ammo for whoever awaits him in Vash's containment—because surely there will be someone. Knives, Legato, maybe even that brat with the nails. Maybe they finally succeeded in giving her a body that Wolfwood can take her seriously in rather than that of a child, but then again that'd require Conrad successfully 'creating' Independents that don't wither and die within a year or whatever, so maybe it's for the best that he never gets to see that day.

Despite the mental preparation, by the time Wolfwood reaches the internal laboratory rooms and wards, the place feels… empty. Something is… definitely wrong here—there's some plan, he can tell, but when yet another door hisses open to a stark white room and Plants peacefully floating in their bulbs, he can't tell anymore what the game is. Is Vash being buried deep in this facility part of the plan? Maybe he'll take too long, and that's when the extra security shows up and overwhelms him…

Hydraulics hiss behind him as the doors close, and the only sound Wolfwood can hear outside of his rushing pulse is the sound of the soles of his shoes tapping softly against the sanitary white tile. Looking around him, he does see papers and clipboards—far less advanced than anything Luida or Brad use on their ship—scattered, like whoever was working here left fast. The undertaker picks up a paper at his feet and holds it in front of himself.

It's… a chart. Vash's vitals, medicines administered… it's incomplete, but… perhaps it's worth keeping around in case Luida needs to know. He tucks it into an interior pocket and continues to walk to the end of the room. The Plants lining the sides of it seem to be too exhausted to interact with him—probably with good reason if Vash's burst of energy tripped them up. Something about them feels… wrong… but Wolfwood can't put a finger on it, not even as he reaches the proudest bulb in the room—one big enough to hold Vash the Stampede in captivity.

He looks so… small… like this.

Wolfwood analyzes the panel and holographic table controlling the bulb's access, but… he's not particularly good at accessing these kinds of things. One wrong move could hurt Vash, but… he doesn't have a lot of time…

His hand hovers over a palm reader, which flashes red beneath his skin. No access this time. Shit.

He's not coming out all this way, getting himself caught by the Eye again, for Vash to stay sealed up in that shitty bulb sleeping. The tips of his fingers rap against the hollow surface of the locked holo-keyboard. If people left fast enough, there's a chance someone left their ID behind, right?

Leaving Vash's side for a moment, Wolfwood briskly shifts two bulbs over and finds a skewed pair of glasses on top of a physical ID. Jackpot.

The Plant right next to him feels strange to be around, like… maybe this is how it feels being next to a dying Plant. There's a deep sorrow in the atmosphere, and Wolfwood feels a heaviness from tears unshed. He can't help but approach the closed Dependent and cock his head at the glass sadly, inquisitively.

"Don't worry, your brother's gonna be fine… I'll make sure, alright?" Wolfwood apprehensively places a palm upon the glass, furrowing his brow with equal parts determination and confusion. Not looking to linger, especially considering any of these girls could drag his consciousness away at the worst moment, he reluctantly pulls away and returns to Vash's body with the ID card in hand. It works, and with several menus and warning screens eagerly clicked through, Wolfwood finally reaches a blinking warning screen and an ultimate confirmation dialog.

'Warning: Auto-release unavailable. Manual retrieval mandatory.'

Yes. Okay.

'Preemptive retrieval of body may result in heavy fluid intake. Be sure to have a plan in place to prevent drowning the subject.'

Can Vash drown? Shit. Uh…

'Set countdown for 1:00?'

Suddenly uncertain, Wolfwood bites his lip and flips his attention from the computer screen to the sleeping Vash in the bulb. With a heaving sigh, he flings his suit jacket off and shoves his sleeves up to his biceps. It seems that taking a little dip is going to be inevitable… these bulbs have a small fish-bowl like entrance that he can access once the cables detach from Vash's body and stop conducting the fluid with electricity that'd likely stop Wolfwood's heart… assuming he's not so much of a Plant at this point that he could survive the slightly electric liquid that feeds and houses Dependent Plants.

With a deep breath, he begins the countdown, and makes his way to the back of the bulb. The ladder to get into the tank is the most intimidating thing he's faced all day, he's pretty sure. All of the jitters he'd been feeling before leaving rock him all at once—will Vash be happy to see him? Will he be okay? Will he… even want to escape? Okay, that's out of the question—Wolfwood is not about to allow Knives to have his hands on Vash, no matter what's at stake.

There's always another way. Vash makes it look so easy.

The timer clicks off in time with the tubes and wires unsealing, and Wolfwood doesn't hesitate to sling himself into the bulb and push himself towards Vash's limp body. The first touch is electric—a spark to reignite recognition, hopefully.

Mentally, he calls out to his stubborn… ex-boyfriend? Boyfriend? His… Vash.

'Vash? Can you hear me? You have to get out of this bulb, but don't freak out, it's just me here… I'm here...'

[relentless-endurance]

so i made a post a while back about not insisting on a certain type of baldur's gate 3 playthrough is 'canon'. and i generally still stand by that statement. however i've gone through the game now as regular Tav, redeem/resist durge, and full blown evil durge - and the difference between Tav and durge is a fucking canyon.

like yeah, yeah, your playthrough is valid, i'm not here to argue with that. but it really well and truly feels like the majority of the effort was put into Durge, and Tav is shortchanged when it comes to the threads that tie them to the major plot of the story. its a god damn shame, because I understand why Tav is an option (Durge gets really fucking intense, ESPECIALLY with the evil route, jesus fuck); i just wish that they had thought to put in as much effort to Tav as they seemed to have durge. a damn shame, really.

[whimmortal]

TIMING: Present day (May 16) PARTIES: Emilio @vengeancedemon and Jenny @whimmortal LOCATION: The elevator to Netherville SUMMARY: Jenny and Emilio take the same elevator. To both their dismay, it gets stuck! CONTENT WARNING: None

When a new neighborhood popped up beneath your feet, it was natural to want to get to know more about it. With all the drama of dying, Emilio hadn’t had as much time to explore Netherville as he’d have liked. There was something curious about it, something that raised more questions than he liked to have unanswered. And, with extra time on his hands now that he was very intentionally not spending free time with his loved ones, he had a minute to check it out. 

Luckily for him, someone had even installed an elevator into the neighborhood. He doubted the stairs would have been a fun experience for his shitty knee, even if the elevator was rickety and seemed unstable. He stepped onto it with a dubious squint, testing his weight on the wooden floor. There was no give, which must have been a good thing. He was just about to close the door when someone else stepped on, and he gave another cautious stomp with his good leg to see if it would hold. So far, so good. 

The door closed, and he was glad it did so before anyone else could join the ride. Two people on an elevator like this one was bad enough; he didn’t want to add weight to it. As it began to move, he eyed the woman who had stepped on behind him. Twenties, brunette, a little too excited to be plunging into the darkness of underground. Maybe she’d be quiet for the duration of the ride, at least.

—

There were many places in Wicked’s Rest worth visiting. Jenny wasn’t sure where to start, as many locations were deemed ‘interesting’ to supernatural ‘fanatics’. Bloggers had long lists of ‘must-see’ places in the town, most of them writing about interesting energies or the apparent demon that had taken over the town. Though she wasn’t sure if she wanted to take everything said online at face value, she sure as hell had to visit the new neighborhood that had erupted.

Her curiosity had no bounds, but that didn’t mean she was enthused about walking down a bunch of stairs. As she sauntered towards the elevator, she pulled out her phone, considering what had been posted about Netherville already. Maybe she should start a blog herself. She would definitely have much better insights than some of these travel bloggers. Eventually, Jenny got into the elevator, a little worried about the state of it but figuring that it had been tested before. If it got her hurt, she could always sue the place. 

She wasn’t very good at worrying about the things she ought to worry about, anyway. Only about the meaningless, nonsensical things. Jenny glanced at the other person in the elevator. He didn’t look very excited to skip out on walking stairs. Strange. “For a new part of town, this elevator sure feels like a hundred years old, hm?” The floor was wood. “Have you been here often already? What do you make of it?”

—

His temporary elevator companion was not going to be quiet for the duration of the ride. Emilio really should have seen it coming. Everything about the woman’s appearance screamed talker, and Emilio wasn’t the sort of person who had enough luck to avoid things like small talk with strangers, especially not when he desperately wanted to avoid it. The universe, it seemed, had a finger on the pulsepoint of Emilio’s desires, and it got off on pressing down on it hard enough to stop the beat. 

He grit his teeth together as the woman spoke, first to comment on the elevator and then to ask him questions. Both were annoying. “Doubt they could put a modern one here,” he ground out irritably. It was bad enough that he was locked into the small space of the elevator with a stranger, wasn’t it? He really should have just stayed home. He only even wanted to go to Netherville to satiate his curiosity. It wasn’t worth the small talk.

“Never been.” If he didn’t answer her questions, he got a feeling she’d be even more annoying. She seemed like the type. “Figure it’ll be just like the rest of town. Shitty. Annoying. Darker, I guess. Weirder people.” He was curious about that. Evidently, there were people who’d lived beneath Netherville for generations now. He was curious to know what they might be like. “What makes you want to go down there? Businesses?” Maybe she was into pottery, or bowling.

—

“Hm, I don’t. I doubt they’ve tried, though, which is a very different thing.” Maybe the priority wasn’t with installing a proper elevator, though, which was unfortunate. They hadn’t even put in a mirror to check her make up in, which meant she just had to hope it hadn’t become messed up on the way over. Jenny considered the other for a moment, then figured that it didn’t matter a lot. Even with messed up make up, she would still be the most fuckable person in this elevator.

His answer made one of her eyebrows raise, judgment apparent on her face. Jenny understood a dark and stormy mood, but she had never been very good at interacting with people who were it so openly. She preferred those kind of personalities in her romance novels and fantasy movies, rather than in an elevator with her. “So… if it’s going to be just as bad as the rest of town by your calculations, why even go?”

He didn’t seem very enthusiastic about Wicked’s Rest, which was the opposite from how she felt. Jenny thought this was the best town ever, and that meant a lot, coming from a born and bred New Yorker. “I’ve never been either, but I’m super curious. I mean, it’s not everywhere that there’s an area in a town that was apparently created by … demonic forces?” She tried to sound skeptical, but mostly came off as someone who found the concept cool. “Might want to check out the theatre, though. Walk around a —”

There was a loud screech, almost animalistic. Jenny let out a squeal. “What was that?” The answer was all around them: it had been the elevator, creaking to a halt.

—

To be entirely fair, Emilio had no idea what went into installing an elevator into any given location. A modern one, sleek and metal, would have certainly looked out of place sinking into the earth towards Netherville, but that hardly meant it would have been impossible to install. He was sure it would have taken more time, though, which might have been the driving force behind going with something simpler. Even people with two working legs might not want to take the long, winding stairs down to Netherville; businesses likely wanted to make themselves as accessible as possible. Deciding the subject wasn’t an important one, anyway, he just shrugged. Who cared about the elevator? They’d only be on it for a few minutes at most.

A few annoying minutes, if the woman who’d joined him intended to spend them talking. “Never been,” he said again. He thought it a good enough explanation, but he added to it anyway. “Figured I should check it out. Don’t like living in a place where I’m not familiar with all the corners.” He didn’t think he’d enjoy Netherville, but he’d enjoy knowing nothing about it even less. The idea of having a world beneath his feet that wasn’t tangible to him, one he’d never seen firsthand… It made him nervous, antsy. Even before his death, his paranoia would have disliked the idea. After, though? It wasn’t exactly something Emilio could swallow. 

She must have been an out of towner. Emilio, too, was a transplant, but he’d been in Wicked’s Rest long enough now not to think much about the oddities of the place. Sure, there was a neighborhood underground that had been carved out by a demon. Why wouldn’t there be? It felt less weird, somehow, than the goo that had temporarily displaced him from his apartment. He listened to the woman give her itinerary, nodding along absently and counting down the seconds until the elevator ride was over. And that was his first mistake, wasn’t it? Emilio wanted off the elevator. He should have known that meant something would go wrong.

Something screeched; something groaned. The elevator came to a stop so suddenly that he stumbled, grunting as the movement jostled his bad leg. “You gotta be fucking kidding me.” He jabbed his finger into the button. If his heart could beat at all, it would have been pounding. For someone who disliked tight spaces with the same intensity Emilio always had, this was something of a nightmare scenario. “Fucking… Shit.” He eyed the door. Maybe they could pry it open? Though his strength wasn’t exactly what it used to be, and unless this woman wasn’t human, he didn’t know how much help she’d be, either. “What — What do we do?”

—

It seemed the stranger didn’t like a lot of things about this town, even those things he didn’t know. Jenny could understand that in one way or another, though not in regards to Wicked’s Rest. This place was, so far, pretty good. Strange in a way that didn’t feel put on or overexaggerated. Filled with history that she was itching to uncover, as well as current developments that were equally exciting — like this newly unearthed neighborhood. She gave the other a bit of a glare, but figured that sharing an elevator with a negative nancy was better than sharing one with someone with overabundant flatulence.

That positive attitude didn’t last long, of course. Jenny would love to share a short elevator ride with a farting person over being stuck in a rickety one that halted with such a loud noise. She felt something rise in her stomach, tickling her intestines. Nervousness. She hadn’t worried about being stuck in elevators since she’d been a little kid and had seen it in a Totally Spies episode, but she now wished she worried about it a little more. Maybe then she would have opted for the stairs.

She watched the grumpy man handle the situation and thought the expletives were very fitting for it all. “Fucking shit, yeah,” she echoed, nodding her head. Out of all elevators to get stuck in, it had to be this weird one, in a part of town that had come to be because of demonic activity according to the rumours. 

Jenny followed her instincts and fished out her phone, but due to them being underground there was absolutely not a shred of connection to be found. “Well, I was going to call 911, but it seems that’s impossible in this corner of town,” she said while still attempting to call the number. As her phone attempted to connect to something, she tried to think of other solutions. She looked at the elevator panel, on which were a mere two buttons. Ground floor and Underground floor. “So … we’re … somewhere between those.” That wasn’t good. “Where the fuck is the emergency button?”

—

He didn’t think his elevator companion liked him very much, which was just as well. If she’d decided the elevator was a bonding experience, she might have tried to follow him around Netherville. The idea sounded like a nightmare to Emilio, who preferred wandering around alone to being trailed behind by a stranger. Lately, he didn’t even like the idea of someone he loved accompanying him anywhere. It was easier, these days, to be by himself. It was better for everyone, really. He felt like a goddamn timebomb, and as annoying as the stranger was, he didn’t particularly want to risk her being around when he went off, either. 

Though it was looking like there might not be much of a choice in the matter. The elevator halted, and the anxiety rising up in his chest was bound to give way to anger eventually, because didn’t everything? These days, his temper was like a house of cards in the middle of a hurricane. It was impossible to hold for very long. And what happened when he couldn’t hold it any longer? He’d been lucky not to fully lose control of himself yet, but how long would he be able to maintain that? Every slayer knew that it was only a matter of time before an undead hurt someone they didn’t mean to hurt.

He hadn’t even thought of using his phone as a solution until the woman informed him that it wouldn’t work. Emilio relied on technology so rarely that, had she not been present, he doubted calling someone would have crossed his mind at all. It didn’t do him much good now either way, though; a quick glance at his own phone screen revealed that it, too, sat at zero bars of service. Not entirely unexpected underground, it seemed.

His reluctant companion inspected the elevator buttons, but there wasn’t much to see. A button to send the elevator up, and one to send it down. Neither seemed to be working at the moment. “Emergency button?” He hadn’t been on enough elevators to register that there was such a thing, but now that he was thinking back, he did recall a red button on the elevator in his apartment building. “Doesn’t look like we’ve got one. Shit. Maybe we, uh…” He looked up at the ceiling. “Probably a hatch, right? Something we could climb out of?” And then what? Climb all the way to the surface?

—

What kind of elevator didn’t have an emergency button? Probably one that didn’t have any service, which was incredibly unfortunate in this situation. Jenny punched the other two buttons repeatedly, not worried that it might confuse the already confused elevator. She just wanted the thing to move: she didn’t like being stuck here, or anywhere at all. She felt like stomping her feet like a child, petulantly enraged by the situation she was in — though that did seem like a fitting reaction.

“Yeah, an emergency button? It usually has a bell symbol. I actually don’t know why, probably because of old times?” Did elevators used to have a bell in them, in case of emergency? Jenny looked around hopefully, wondering if that could be the solution to their problem. But no, there didn’t seem to be any such thing here. Just her, a grouchy man, two broken buttons and a wooden floor. She crossed her arms, one foot patting the floor with annoyance. There was no way the elevator would be susceptible to her irritation, but if it was, this might make it move.

She did look up along with the stranger, and before she could answer his question she realized she should know his name. Like, if you were going to be stuck in an elevator for the first time in your life, might as well get to know their name. “I’m Jenny, for what it’s worth.” It was clear she expected him to offer his name in return.

Then, back to the hatch. “We could try that.” She considered the two of them, then stepped closer. “If you give me a boost.” Because she was not going to give him one. “I’ll try and shout for help. That should … work.” She didn’t sound very sure of that.

—

The woman was explaining elevator buttons, and it took everything Emilio had not to snap at her to shut up. The anxiety in his chest was building, shifting itself into anger the way everything else did, these days. It wouldn’t do him any good in here. Maybe if he’d had a few more good meals, enough to build up his strength a little more, he could have… what, exactly? Ripped the floorboards from beneath their feet to allow them access to a nice drop that would probably break their legs or worse? Emilio would be fine with something like that, of course — fall damage couldn’t kill a dead man — but his annoying companion probably wouldn’t have been, and he wasn’t sure he was willing to doom someone just to get himself out of an elevator faster. 

No, this situation wasn’t one that could have been easily resolved even if he was in top form, though knowing this didn’t do much to make him feel better. He was still anxious, still irritated, still angry. The elevator didn’t have an emergency button, so what did it matter what one looked like? “Great,” he said, a little more harshly than he’d meant to. “Glad to know what one looks like. Can confirm that there isn’t one here. This is very helpful.” He knocked his foot against the wall with an irritated grunt. This, too, was utterly unhelpful. He knew that.

He let out a long, unhappy sigh. The woman — Jenny — introduced herself, and he acknowledged her with a sharp, unnecessary exhale. (Should he be holding his breath? He didn’t need the oxygen, but Jenny did. If there was a limited supply of it, he probably shouldn’t be wasting it with a silly attempt to feel human.) “Emilio,” he replied gruffly. 

He looked up at the hatch, hanging a little too far over their heads. Neither of them could actually reach the damn thing, though Jenny’s idea offered an almost-solution. “You’ll yell? We’re under the ground. I don’t think anyone will hear you. And even if they do, what can they do? Throw a rope?” Would he be able to climb a rope? Would Jenny? She didn’t seem to have any physical ailments, but there was certainly a lot of athleticism required to scale a straight angle with a rope. But it wasn’t like they had any better options, so… “Okay. Maybe it’s… I don’t know. Worth a shot.” He linked his fingers together and crouched. “Try it, then.”

—

Being stuck in an elevator with another person could be an interesting meet cute (or the start of an adult film), but Jenny felt very little carnal or flirty desire for the man she was stuck with. Rugged handsomeness aside, he had an attitude so grating that even a broken elevator was not enough to warrant it. She glared at him. “You’re not being particularly helpful yourself. Kick it again, see where that gets us.” She hoped he wouldn’t take her up on that, but she didn’t bother to correct herself. If they were going to plummet to their death because of his angry, petulant kicking, then at least she’d die on a high horse.

Emilio at least offered his name, which was more than she’d expected. She wasn’t going to say it was nice to meet him, though, because she was a poor liar and she didn’t want to waste her politeness on him. “Cool,” she said in stead, which was a nonsensical answer but one nonetheless. Maybe they’d circle back to introductions later, if their situation were to last longer.

For now, there was still hope. “They can call for help, duh? We can’t, but they can — they have connection!” She wasn’t sure if it would work, but at least there would be something to do up there. She tried not to think about how scary standing on top of an elevator would be. Jenny was glad she didn’t have to convince this Emilio for much more, because she certainly lacked the conviction to do so. 

She moved towards him, wishing this was a cuter form of proximity than what it was. Placing her hands on his shoulders she tried not to look into his eyes from this up close, in stead preparing to gain some momentum as she put one of her feet in his hands. “Ew,” she said, immediately biting her tongue before she could comment on his choice of aftershave and lack of hygiene. At least she was smelling like her new Chanel fragrance. She tried to breathe through her mouth and ignore how poor this man’s smell was. “Alright, then. Boost me up.” When he did, she clambered further onto his shoulders, one hand holding onto his head as she tried to remain steady. Once Jenny had reached full height, she reached for the hatch. Her fingers barely brushed it. “Come onnnn!”

—

It was clear that her invitation for him to kick the elevator once more was less genuine and more rhetorical, which meant Emilio maintained eye contact while delivering another kick to the side. The movement did very little to help their situation — in fact, it sent a wave of pain through his bad leg with the contact — but it allowed him a moment of petty defiance, and that made him feel a bit better. 

The feeling didn’t last long, of course. Petty defiance or no, they were in a rough spot. He could think of nothing that would get them out of here, and even Jenny’s explanation of what catching the attention of someone above ground might do didn’t help. Emilio wasn’t very good at relying on other people to resolve a situation like this one, particularly not strangers. The small voice in his head that was responsible for the bulk of his worst thoughts insisted that a stranger was more likely to leave them down here to rot than they were to help them out of the situation.

Still, there was little they could do about any of it. The only option they had here was to hope some good samaritan was good enough to make a goddamn difference. “Who would they call?” It was a genuine question. Emilio had no idea what the procedure was for a thing like this. Would someone be able to repair the elevator remotely? Would they find some way to get them out without them having to climb? What was the best case scenario here? His mind would only provide him with the worst.

He rolled his eyes as Jenny reacted with disgust to their proximity, unbothered by it. She struck him as the uptight sort, and people like that never liked people like Emilio. That was all right, though. He didn’t need her to like him — he didn’t even want her to. He just needed her to make good on her promise to use her loud mouth to get them out of this fucking hole. He grunted as she climbed onto his shoulder, his bad knee nearly buckling under the added weight. He managed to hold her up, though, managed to keep the pair of them upright… just for Jenny to be unable to reach the hatch. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He demanded, tilting his head to glare up at her. “Stretch a little.”

—

There were a great many times in her life where Jenny had felt uncomfortable, but this really was taking the cake. That was a bold statement, and maybe one made by a catastrophizing mind, but as she balanced on the shoulders of a smelly man called Emilio, trying to reach an elevator hatch, she could not imagine a worse thing. Yes, she would rather take improv classes in middle school again. Or sit through a ‘family discussion’ where they talked about values and expectations. Or even sit next to a woman who was bleeding out.

“I am! And stop looking up at me like that!” The way she cried out made her wobble, but she made an extra effort to try and get on her tippy toes, hoping the way her shoes pressed into Emilio’s shoulders was uncomfortable. “You are too short.” It was definitely his height that posed the issue here, and not her 5’2” stature. Maybe she should have worn her platform boots. Maybe the extra inches could have helped her push the latch open — but even then that would require her having the arm strength to do a pull up. She did not.

Jenny was not giving up, though, face growing red from her attempt to reach it before letting out a long exhale. “Nope,” she said. “Too high. Who makes elevators this high? That’s ridiculous. This is ridiculous. Why is there a neighborhood under the ground in this town? Why are people saying it’s because of demons? Why didn’t they hire a proper elevator company to get this stuff installed?” She looked down, starting to make the descend by pawing the elevator wall and then clinging onto Emilio’s head again. She ripped out a few of his hairs.

She replaced one of her feet on his shoulders with a knee. “I need your hands again,” she said, not wanting to jump down onto the shaky elevator floor and make things even worse.

—

Being trapped in an elevator with an incredibly annoying stranger balanced on his shoulders and stretching for a hatch that was just out of reach was not the worst thing he had ever experienced. He figured bleeding out in a rusty dumpster or stumbling through streets littered with his family’s corpses were tied for the top spot, at a constant war with one another to determine which tragedy was bigger. But petty and blinded by his current level of irritation, he thought the elevator could probably at least slide into third. At least bleeding out had been quiet.

“I’m not looking at you like anything!” He snapped, grunting a little as her wobbling forced him to adjust his balance and sent another shooting pain through his bad leg. His irritation burned hotter as she insisted that this was his fault, that his height was the problem. Maybe bleeding out in the dumpster had been preferable to this after all. “I’m too short? You’re four feet tall!” This was her fault, really. If she hadn’t gotten into the elevator, it probably wouldn’t have broken. (Emilio knew that wasn’t true. The universe lived to make his life hell, even after he was already dead. Blaming someone else only served to make him feel better.)

She kept shifting on his shoulders, stretching to try to reach the hatch and finding it impossible. He hated to agree with her, but the whole thing was a little stupid. “This fucking town,” he mumbled irritably, trying to find some other solution to their shitty situation. A sharp pain at his head caught his attention, and he reached up to shove her hands out of his hair. “Stop that.”

More shifting, though this time it seemed to be in the interest of getting down. Emilio disliked the idea of giving up on the hatch, but he would be glad to have her off his shoulders. His knee would be protesting this stunt for a week, if not more. Reaching up, he grabbed her hands to help her balance enough to climb down. “The fuck do we do now? Just… wait?” He was bad at that. He was so bad at that.

—

Growing up, Jenny’s parents had granted her and her sisters independence. They were hands-off parents, which was a modern and cool way of saying that they were distant and absent — though they really did believe it would make their daughters into strong individuals. In stead, it had left her with very few problem solving skills, as it was often her elder siblings or the nanny that ended up helping her out when in trouble. Or, in plenty other situations, the issue was just not resolved. Shoved under the bed where no one could see it. Ignored as if it wasn’t bothering her. 

That was why she sank onto the ground, sitting cross legged with her back against the elevator wall. She glared up at Emilio, “For your information, I am over five foot!” Only by two inches, but those inches mattered. Jenny pulled her phone from her pocket, staring daggers at the lack of connection before opening a phone game to give her hands something to do.

“Yes, I guess,” she confirmed eventually. “Somebody has to notice the elevator isn’t running, right? There are other people who want to use it. They’re going to make a fuss and they will call someone.” Just like her, to assume that someone else would bring her a solution. Jenny figured they had tried everything there was to do, though, so why would she get up to her feet and try some more? She didn’t like to exert herself.

She looked at the other for a moment, abandoning the bubbles and gems on her screen. “Or did you have any other brilliant ideas?”

—

“Oh, well, congratulations,” he replied sarcastically, throwing his hands in the air. He tried to decide if he’d prefer to be trapped in this elevator alone, or if having someone else here with him made it more bearable. Jenny was certainly annoying, but she did provide an outlet for his rage beyond simply kicking the sides of the elevator or screaming into the void. He just wasn’t sure how much that meant at the moment. Maybe he’d have been better off alone, where he could have broken down without fear of being seen.

In any case, he would have certainly rather been trapped in an elevator with someone who had some idea of how to get out of it. Jenny had no further ideas on how to escape their plight and, worse still, didn’t even seem particularly bothered by it. She pulled out her phone, seemingly content to play with it in lieu of a signal that might help them call someone. Emilio was half tempted to smack it out of her hands, but he managed to refrain. Barely.

“It could take hours for anyone to notice,” he pointed out. “Hours more for them to fix it.” He disliked the idea of waiting around for someone else to solve his problems, especially when that waiting had to be done in a small box with a person he found infuriatingly irritating. There had to be some other way out, something they were missing, somehow. Emilio glanced around the elevator, desperate for some kind of escape. “Maybe if we both jump, we can… I don’t know. Knock it loose?”

—

It was not hard to notice the sarcasm in the other’s voice, especially because he laid it on extremely thick. What a sour, dramatic man. Jenny didn’t bother to offer a reply. She knew she was awfully short, and she knew that the two inches she had on top of her measly five foot was nothing to brag about, but she would never stop. As long as people accused her of being shorter than she was, she would point out her actual height, thank you very much. Besides, no one ever died of being short. To many people, it was even considered attractive. She didn’t bother to point that out to Emilio, though.

“I can sit here for hours,” she pointed out. “I have a fully charged phone. A notebook. A book for reading.” She did not want to sit in the elevator four hours. It frankly sounded like an absolute nightmare, especially considering her current company. She just wanted to seem like she was better than him for not thinking it that big a deal. She did not think all that highly of herself, but she certainly had to consider herself better than the other. 

She shook her head. “Nope. Nope. Do not — we are not jumping and making this thing crash to the ground. I am not dying in a fucking elevator.” Jenny looked back at her phone, wishing she had downloaded an episode or two on it before leaving home. Every place had WiFi these days though, and her unlimited data meant she never had to worry about being without connection. Until now. “Got any more fantastic, brilliant ideas? Preferably ones that are not risking our lives?” She didn’t look up as she added: “Or will you just sit down and keep quiet?”

—

Maybe she could sit in the elevator for hours, but he couldn’t. To Emilio, such an extended amount of time trapped in a small box felt like a Hell he had no hope of overcoming. He thought of the shed his mother had locked him in as a child, of the dumpster in the alley, of the bodybag in Eve’s van. How long could he spend in this elevator before his mind transported him back to one of those other, more sinister places? How long could he fend off a meltdown in front of a stranger who was unlikely to respond in any way that would be helpful? 

“Well, I have places to be,” he lied through his teeth, taking the two short steps back to the elevator panel to uselessly mash the buttons once more. Up, down. Up, down. Up, down. Neither had any effect on their situation. The elevator remained well and truly stuck, and Emilio resisted the urge to punch the panel. In his current, weakened state, it wouldn’t even hurt the buttons. If anything, he’d only end up bruising his own knuckles and likely earning a scoff from his unwilling companion. 

She didn’t seem to like his idea very much, even if she offered no alternatives of her own. “We wouldn’t die,” he insisted with a scoff. “We might not even be so far from the ground.” It was hard to know how deep the elevator had gone before stopping, after all; they might be closer to the bottom than they were to the top, right? Maybe the fall would only be a few feet. “Maybe we can pry the door open. If we both try to. Maybe there’s — I mean, there would be something out there. Right?” Probably just dirt, given how hastily the elevator had been built. All the ideas Emilio had dismissed before were sounding more appealing now that he didn’t have any others. “I’m not going to just sit here.”

—

Things were often solved for her. Sometimes she didn’t even have to ask for it, but she tended to have the means to do so. Here, there was no one to help solve things, so Jenny remained on the floor, annoyed and way past giving up. This would be her reality until someone came and fixed the elevator, which they would — if there was anything she'd grown up knowing, it was that problems were always resolved. Her parents snapped their fingers, threatened a lawyer, hired a guy … there was nothing out of the scope of possibility. 

��Sucks to be you then,” she said, watching Emilio mash the elevator buttons with raised eyebrows. “At this point, if the buttons do anything, you're just confusing them.” Technology definitely seemed like the kind of thing that could be confused, thought Jenny. She became more and more convinced that she should stay rooted in place and give into giving up, if only because she wanted to piss the other off. 

She scoffed right back. “No, we would. I've seen this happen.” In movies, but that didn't need to be specified. “Go ahead, try and pry it open. I'm just going to wait for someone to come. I've no idea what's out there, considering this is a supposed demon hole and I've never been in a demon hole before.” She returned her attention to her phone, thoughts circling around how intolerable Emilio was and how that could possibly be. Then it clicked. She looked up. “Are you an Aries, by any chance?

—

“You can’t confuse buttons.” He had no idea, really, if that was the truth or not. Jenny clearly knew more about technology than he did, though it was not a hard feat to achieve. Maybe there was something to the warning, some deep secret that Emilio was unaware of. There were a lot of unspoken rules that he missed, a lot of unsaid things he had no way of knowing. It was frustrating but, right now, so was everything. He wanted off the elevator, wanted to be back aboveground, wanted a thousand different things that he did not know how to take. He was so much better at wanting than he was at getting. 

He gave her a dubious look, because he wasn’t sure he believed that she’d seen this kind of thing happen before. Where would she have seen it? Not from inside the elevator if she was claiming such things were fatal and she was a witness. (Unless she was something more durable than human, but if that were the case, why was she concerned? For his sake? He doubted that.) But without her help, the jumping probably wouldn’t make much of a difference. Emilio wasn’t exactly heavy enough to move the machinery alone. 

He also wasn’t strong enough to pry the doors open without her. He might have been weeks ago, when he was still alive and had a slayer’s strength, but not now. Now, he was useless on his own with no one willing to help him. “I don’t know what an Aries is.” He glared at the door of the elevator, trying to fit his fingers in the crack to pry, but it was no use. The door was as stuck as the elevator itself. Frustrated, Emilio turned back to the button panel, slamming his hand against it again…

…and the elevator creaked. It trembled. It groaned. And then, with a sputter, it moved.

—

“You so can. Every push of the button is an input and you keep contradicting the input, making it very confused.” That was for sure how technology worked. She had experienced plenty of times before, when she’d started mashing buttons on her phone or computer. It usually led to an error or the device simply giving up on whatever it was trying to do with a loud noise. She didn’t want that to happen to this elevator.

Jenny rolled her eyes as he asked her what an Aries was. It did explain a lot of his behavior, the fact that he didn’t know what zodiac signs meant. It also did confirm her suspicions, even though he hadn’t actually confirmed it. “When’s your birthday? March, April, something like that?” She did not bother to help him with the elevator door, not wanting to fail at a test of strength. She undoubtedly would, after all — she had skipped arm day for many years, now.

It seemed her strength wasn’t needed anyway, because somehow the elevator started moving again. Jenny gaped, looking up at the other. It wasn’t because of the way he’d punched it, surely. “Wow, seems someone up there finally connected some cables again!” She got up to her feet, fitting her phone in her back pocket as she felt her stomach churn the way it always did as an elevator descended. “Thank God.”

—

He had no idea how accurate or inaccurate what she was saying might be. She was using big enough words that it sounded like it could have been plausible, maybe, but Emilio couldn’t really tell. Was that how buttons worked? Could you really ‘confuse’ them just by pressing them too much? He’d never had the problem before but, to be fair, until a few weeks ago, any angry button smashing he’d partaken in had resulted more commonly in a broken button than a confused one. The missing slayer strength had seen to that. 

She continued on, and Emilio narrowed his eyes as she asked about his birthday. It was in March, but he wasn’t sure how she knew that. Suspicion and paranoia licked dangerously at his heels, and he studied Jenny with an uneasy expression. “Why?” He wasn’t going to offer up extra information about himself to a stranger, in any case, especially not without an explanation. Who knew what her intentions were here?

He breathed a quiet sigh of relief as the elevator moved again, feeling triumphant. “No, I fixed it,” he insisted, arms crossed stubbornly over his chest. “It didn’t start working again until I made it work.” It was simple cause and effect, wasn’t it? The elevator was broken. Emilio punched the buttons. The elevator worked again. Common sense said that the two events were undoubtedly related to one another. “You can thank me any time, you know.”

—

“Because I want to know if you’re an Aries,” she said plainly, as if it was normal to ask people’s birthday in situations like these. In all fairness, situations like these simply weren’t normal, so there was no social contract to adhere to. Emilio also didn’t seem like the kind of guy who held down normal communication techniques, what with the gruffness and obvious anger issues. Jenny stared him down, becoming more and more convinced of her assessment. An Aries, and if not that, a Scorpio or Capricorn.

She snorted on instinct as Emilio made the claim of the century. “You cannot be serious,” she said, “You can’t really think that your punching the elevator fixed it?” Maybe it had. Sometimes when her phone got stuck, she slapped it and it seemed to kind of work. Jenny was no expert when it came to elevators (though definitely more knowledgeable than Emilio), so it might as well be that the punch had sent a shock through its system and reset it. 

She moved closer to the door, wanting to be the first to leave the elevator. She couldn’t wait to wash her hands after having gotten them stuck in Emilio’s hair. She looked at him pointedly, “Thank you, for making this entire situation even more intolerable and not bothering to hide your obvious anger issues while stuck in a small room with a stranger.” She hadn’t exactly felt intimidated, but it felt good to hold it over his head. “Satisfied?”

—

“I still don’t know what that means,” Emilio replied, frustration rising all the more. What did his birthday have to do with the question she was asking? What did any of it have to do with their current situation? He didn’t particularly enjoy talking to strangers about anything — he barely enjoyed talking to the people he knew, really — but he especially wasn’t keen on discussing birthdays with a stranger in a shitty elevator. Was this what qualified as small talk when nothing was actively trying to kill you? Emilio would have preferred dodging punches.

But at least the elevator was working. At least he had fixed it. He crossed his arms stubbornly over his chest as Jenny tried to insist that this wasn’t the case, chin tilting up defiantly. “It was not working,” he pointed out. “I punch it, it works again. You think it just magically fixed itself all on its own? No. I fixed it.”

The argument was stupid, but so was the rest of it. Emilio couldn’t bring himself to give a shit about it now. The elevator was moving, slowly but steadily towards its destination, and that was the only thing that really mattered to him. “You’re welcome,” he replied, figuring taking her thanks as genuine despite the clear sarcasm in her tone was bound to piss her off. And he found he really liked the idea of pissing her off. 

The elevator let out a dull hum as it arrived at the ground floor, and Emilio was just petty enough to slide by Jenny to get to the door first as it opened. “I would say it was nice meeting you,” he said flatly, “but I don’t care enough to lie.”

[supraxstcllas]

@dementedspeedster: (@ Match) "There was something I was wondering..." Thad starts, "You know how your telekinesis sorta just expands around you?" Like how his hair would move and float at times, Thad couldn't help but think, but he doesn't mention it out right for both of their sakes, "Is there a limit to your range? Could you theoretically pick something or someone up a distance away? Can you feel anything when you use your power?"

" Yeah? " he says, head quirking at the line of questioning. arms cross over his chest as he thinks, " I think I have a limit? Haven't really checked it since before I uh... left the Agenda. They'd test me every once in a while to see if it had gotten stronger. " now that he thought about it, maybe he should do a few tests himself.

" As for feeling... its like static on my skin and a warm feeling in my chest. It doesn't take much thought, it just kinda happens. Like breathing or blinking. " he says, pointing his hand at the other and letting his ttk spread out to gently raise the blonde's hair in the air, " Just point and shoot, basically. "

there's a soft hum, " We're both curious now, wanna help me test it? "

[soulstagger]

Flavia...

[mastcrmarksman]

[ starter call ] ⸻ @timeisbrain

❝ Uhm, actually, I get it - ❞ Clint interjects, finishing up with cleaning his gear as Stephen bemoans about a memory from childhood. A story of brothers. He figures that is one of those times where he should try to connect with a fellow Avenger. ❝ I have- had- have a brother. Barney, bastard, my older brother - which now you make a whole lot more sense now. ❞

[kingwu]

♛ || @feiiizhu sent: ♬

send me ♬ & i’ll shuffle my playlist . first song i get , i’ll use a lyric as a starter .

"I can see the stars all the way from here. Can't you see the glow on the window pane?"

[credisruptor]

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