#unpredictable site conditions

[asestimationsconsultants]

AS Estimation & Consultants | Tackling Unpredictable Site Costs

In construction, no matter how perfect the plans look on paper, the ground can hold surprises—unstable soil, hidden utilities, or sudden weather changes. These unpredictable site conditions can send budgets spiraling if not addressed with foresight and flexibility. That’s where construction cost estimating service experts like AS Estimation & Consultants step in with precision and confidence.

Our team doesn’t just estimate costs—we anticipate risks. By studying geotechnical reports, past site data, and working closely with engineers and contractors, we identify potential issues before they become costly problems. And if something unexpected does arise mid-project, we’re ready. Our dynamic cost models adjust in real time, giving clients quick, data-backed decisions to keep budgets on track.

We also ensure that all cost changes are clearly documented, supporting change orders and minimizing disputes. Technology plays a key role in this agility, from cloud-based estimating tools to integrated project management systems.

At AS Estimation & Consultants, we don’t fear the unexpected—we plan for it. Because when the ground shifts, your budget shouldn’t. Trust us to keep your costs grounded, no matter what lies beneath.

AS Estimation and Consultants

6/32 LAW VIC 3020, AUS

(61) 488874145

https://asestimation.com/

[gloomwitchwrites]

Ink & Needle // Chapter Twenty-Two

Tattoo Artist Simon “Ghost” Riley x Female Reader

Chapter Specific Warnings (MDNI): tattoo shop au, canon-typical violence, flashback, blood and injury, swearing

Word Count: 3.2k

Simon relives the past. Evie goes to Simon for help. Price and 141 come for another visit.

Chapter Twenty-One // Chapter Twenty-Three

ao3 // main masterlist // ink & needle masterlist

It’s raining.

Simon can hear it pattering against the steel roof. He stands on the edge of a fractured concrete slab, staring down into darkness. Even the rain collects here, falling from the opening in the roof several stories up.

This is the only light Simon has. The rest of the building is utterly dark.

Walsh is here. Somewhere. Slinking through the inky blackness like a tentacled beast awaiting its next meal.

The fucker is cornered, and he knows it. Walsh blew the goddamn fuse box, shoving the abandoned construction site into complete darkness. It’s not ideal—but Simon has worked in far harsher conditions.

Simon had the advantage—the element of surprise. He seized it, only for Walsh to run when one of his conspirators shot off at Simon suddenly and without warning. The bullet only grazed Simon’s upper arm. Nothing more.

They’re all dead now.

All but Walsh.

Simon made sure of it. He did it slowly, using the shadows to his advantage, becoming a violent mist that struck with sharpened blade. Those men are just puddles of blood and vacant eyes.

Twirling his knife end-over-end, Simon considers his next move. Walsh’s only escape is on foot, and even in that the man is fucked. Simon managed to nick the back of Walsh’s leg just before he disappeared. Best case scenario, Simon struck a tendon. Unlikely—but Walsh isn’t going to make it far on foot, not with this rain and an injured leg.

Simon’s cold gaze surveys the building around him.

It’s just one of many properties Walsh owns, but knowing which was always the hard part. The man hides behind fake companies and even faker names. Connecting them back to him took the most effort. This place is just storage—a building to conceal what you don’t want found.

“Where are you?” murmurs Simon, cleaning the blood off his blade against his pant leg.

Walsh is unpredictable when he’s cornered. The man turns into a wild animal. All raised fur and sharpened teeth. This is the Walsh that’s dangerous. The one that will do anything to escape.

Stepping away from the edge, Simon submerges himself into the shadows. He backtracks, stepping over bodies along the way, boots silent as he walks. The rain picks up as Simon enters a partially completed stairwell. There are walls and stairs, but no roof or railings.

He is unprotected from the rain, and the water soaks into his clothes, the fabric sticking to his skin. Most of his body is unprotected, but this isn’t an infiltration, and backup is far away. The opportunity appeared suddenly, and Simon seized it with both hands, ready to choke. Simon made himself a false friend to Walsh, and that is the only reason Simon is this close to victory.

Three years.

Three fucking years since Simon started tracking this fucker.

Three years of endless searching. Endless infiltrations. Endless missions. Simon got close. Moved in. And now he’s fucking here, ready to finish the job.

And he will.

He fucking will.

Simon exits the stairwell and returns to the slim light trailing in from the hole in the roof. There’s a sharp illumination, a flash of white, followed by the cracking boom of thunder. The metal around him lights up, soaking up and reflecting the lightning.

Simon inhales, the scent of rain seeping through the soaked balaclava.

He glances upward, and squints just as another flash of lightning illuminates the space.

Above him—four levels up—is a shadow of a man.

Simon doesn’t wait for the next bolt of lightning. He turns back into the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time. His heart pounds in his chest—adrenaline spiking. Blood rushes through his limbs, muscles tense and poised for action.

The next flash of lightning comes, but—no. Not white. Not bright.

This is hot. This is heat.

This is flame.

The building shakes and Simon slips, sliding down the stairs, eventually landing on his knee as a resounding boom vibrates his bones.

“Fuck!” cries Simon as his knee strikes concrete. It’s a sharp crack that shoots up his leg and goes right to his head.

Rolling to the side, Simon presses himself against the wall, protecting his head as everything shudders around him. The rattling tapers out—and the moment Simon’s teeth aren’t rattling around in his head—he pushes to an upright position.

The first step is agony. He can hardly bend his fucking knee.

Hissing sharply with every step, Simon continues to climb, emerging onto the fourth level as a rising wave of nausea hits him.

The wispy tendrils of smoke come first before the heat. Simon cautiously walks forward, circumventing a slab of slanted concrete.

Behind it is fire. There is so much of it. Climbing the walls, complete undampened by the rain.

What the fuck did Walsh set off?

Simon’s intelligence said that this place might be storing chemicals, not weapons. But it didn’t say what kinds of chemicals.

A nearby beam falls from its mooring and crashes to the floor. Simon takes a step back, and then the world is tipping. Spinning.

Simon didn’t hear him. Didn’t see Walsh coming.

There are strong arms around him, shoving him down.

Simon’s training clicks into place, and he surrenders to the push, falling into it. When Simon’s back hits the ground, he rolls with the momentum, shoving Walsh off of him. Walsh tumbles away, rolling through a small patch of fire, before skidding to a stop on his side.

Simon pushes up to standing just as Walsh regains his footing. His black hair is a soaked mess, lips a snarl. Simon always thought that Walsh looked like a crow. All sharpness and talon.

“You fucking betrayed me,” screams Walsh, spittle flying from his lips.

He takes a step, staggering slightly. The sleeve of Walsh’s jacket smokes. In his right fist is a crowbar.

“Always planned on it,” replies Simon coldly.

The crowbar gently swings with Walsh’s swaying form. He hefts the metal up, pointing the bent end at Simon. “I’m gonna kill you. Take your eyes. Feed them to my fucking dogs.”

Simon says nothing. He remains still, knife clutched in his fist. It’s the only true protection he has.

“And then I’m going to kill every person you love,” continues Walsh, eyes widening slightly as he talks. “Everyone you’ve ever cared about.” Walsh lowers the crowbar. “Even the dead ones.” He laughs, the sound manic and high. “What’s a bit of graverobbing, yeah?” Walsh grins. “You can add it to the fucking list of grievances.”

“You’re not walking out of here alive,” says Simon, keeping his tone calm.

Price and the rest of the team are on their way with additional forces. Simon can kill the man, but it’ll be much easier once everyone else arrives. He just needs to play this right, to keep Walsh occupied for a bit or until the wanker tires himself out.

Either way, Walsh is a dead man.

Walsh shakes his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, mate.” He starts walking forward, the crowbar swinging. Walsh twists his wrist and the metal bar comes upward for him to grasp it like a bat. “I always fucking win.”

Simon steps to the side as Walsh brings the bar down. The man grunts. Staggers. Turns back in Simon’s direction.

Pushing the advantage, Simon shoves the knife forward with a quick slashing gesture. Walsh dodges, the metal of the blade harshly sliding against the crowbar. Sparks fly as the two metals meet.

Walsh swings again. Simon grabs the crowbar just above Walsh’s hands, holding it at bay.

“Fuck you!” screams Walsh, kicking out.

He connects with Simon’s injured knee. Simon staggers. His hand slips a bit on the crowbar.

“Fucking bastard,” spits Walsh, kicking out again, striking Simon in the chest.

Simon’s hold on the crowbar remains but he goes down, the two men stumbling to the concrete floor.

They are a tangle of limbs. Walsh gnashes his teeth, chomping at Simon as if to tear away flesh. Simon’s elbow connects with Walsh’s jaw. The man’s head snaps back and Simon slices the knife through the air.

The blade tears up Walsh’s neck, drawing blood. It isn’t much. Not nearly enough.

Walsh pushes off Simon, clutching his throat as he takes up the crowbar and swings again.

This time, the bent end connects, digging into Simon’s leg. Screaming, Simon lunges for it, intending to rip it out of his leg.

“No you fucking don’t,” snarls Walsh, yanking on the crowbar.

Simon scream again. Muscle and tendon are tearing. Nerves severing as Walsh drags Simon’s by his leg across the floor.

“I’m not done with you,” growls Walsh, yanking again.

Simon growls and lunges forward, grabbing onto the crowbar. The two men fight for dominance and control.

Walsh lashes out with his fist. Simon jerks to the side, and then thrusts his head forward, cracking his forehead against Walsh’s nose.

Blood bursts across Walsh’s face. The man stumbles back, falling on his ass.

With a guttural cry, Simon changes his angle on the crowbar, tugging it free. A black pool begins to form beneath Simon’s leg.

Groaning, Simon turns onto his side, pushes up to sitting with both hands. Grabbing his knife, Simon staggers to his feet just as Walsh steadies himself.

Simon charges, knocking into Walsh, blade pointed forward.

The knife goes in clean. Perfectly slips between ribs, missing bone, and meeting tender flesh.

Walsh screams, and then laughs—fucking laughs. The sound is choked. Garbled. But it’s not just Walsh who screams. They’re both screaming, staring into each other’s eyes as all that pent up rage and anger emerges like a storm.

A knee shoves into Simon’s stomach, and then the two men are up again. Simon’s knife is still lodged in Walsh’s chest.

The rest is all fists. Blurry. Bloody.

At some point Simon’s back and arms burn, the clothes singed and partially melted. He’s not sure when it happens. Everything is growing fuzzy, and his leg doesn’t want to move. It drags behind Simon with every swing of his fist.

Walsh’s hands slide around Simon’s throat. Using his weight, Simon drives forward, moving like a rugby player, pushing Walsh closer and closer to the edge.

Walsh’s mouth is moving, but there are no words.

It’s a buzzing. Like an alarm.

Like—

Simon’s eyes snap open. He’s greeted by the ceiling. The burns beneath the tattoos are warm as if the dream renewed the long-forgotten pain.

And that buzzing.

“Fucking hell,” groans Simon, sitting up, and grabbing his phone off the bedside table.

Bravo whines and places his head on Simon’s leg, his large dark eyes tinged with worry.

Simon opens up the doorbell app on his phone, checking to see who is out on the street wanting entrance. He checks the time and balks.

“Shit,” mutters Simon, swinging his legs out of bed. Bravo grumbles his annoyance but doesn’t move from his spot.

The quality isn’t great but there’s a woman standing outside. All he can see is a coat and her figure. He can’t tell if it’s you, but it might be.

Simon hits the button that unlocks the downstairs door and shuts off his phone. Standing, his bad knee stretches, resisting movement. He stretches a bit, and then heads for the front door.

Someone is banging on it before Simon even makes it across the living room.

He unlocks the deadbolts, and swings the door wide, expecting that it might be you and you’ve simply lost your key.

But it’s not you. It’s—

“Evie?” breathes Simon, his sudden excitement dimming to an extinguished flame.

She is rain-soaked. Trembling. Her brown eyes are large and round. Simon tastes fear and desperation in the air.

Something is wrong.

“I’m sorry,” she says quickly. “I know it’s late. But I have no one else to turn to. The police aren’t doing anything and I—”

“Come inside,” says Simon, softly, taking a step back.

Evie swallows hard, her hands clasped in front of her chest as she takes a hesitant step into Simon’s flat. He shuts the door behind her, locking the deadbolts.

“Sit here,” he instructs, gesturing toward the kitchen table. “I’ll make tea.”

“Simon,” she starts.

“Tea first, and then we’ll talk.”

Evie only nods, removing her coat to hang on the back of the chair. Simon fills the electric kettle and turns it on. Striding into the living room, he snags a blanket off the couch, and offers it to Evie.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, unfolding it slowly to drape over her shoulders.

Simon returns to the kitchen, preparing what he can for the tea. This concerns you. He knows it deep in his bones. But as much as Simon wants answers—craves them like a cigarette after sex—he needs to be fucking calm about this. He needs to be the clear-headed one.

When the kettle goes off, Simon makes each of them tea, spooning the perfect amount of milk and sugar into both. Simon sets a mug down in front of Evie and then decides to settle in the seat across from her.

“What happened?” he asks.

Evie’s mouth opens. Closes. She bites her lips and stares down into her cup.

“Start wherever you need,” says Simon. “Take your time.”

Time is never on anyone’s side. He is fully aware that time is your greatest friend and enemy. Even a few seconds are crucial.

Evie takes a deep, shuddering breath. “She should have been home yesterday. It’s not like her to not call if she’s running late.” She pauses, taking a moment to drink some tea. “I called. Texted. Nothing. Would go out to the house but I have Lillian to think of.”

“What time was she supposed to be home?”

“Around dinner,” answers Evie after a few seconds. “Still no word. No phone calls. No texts.” Evie sighs. “I went to the police station this morning but they shrugged it off. Said it’s too soon to file a missing person’s report.”

“Have you tried contacting anyone else?” asks Simon. His grip on his cup is the only thing grounding him right now.

Evie nods. “I contacted the estate agent. She said she’s go out there and check.” Tears begin to form in the corners of Evie’s eyes. “Haven’t heard anything. When I call her it goes straight to voicemail.”

Evie glances up from staring into her mug. “I’m worried. That’s why I came.”

“You did the right thing,” replies Simon. “I’ll go check.”

Her sigh of relief is palpable, as if the burden of it is a physical thing. “Thank you, Simon. I—”

“Finish your tea,” interrupts Simon. “I need to make a few calls.”

Glass crunches under Simon’s boots. Some of it shines in the morning light. Other pieces shine red.

The patio door is completely shattered, the glass strewn over the living room and lawn. In the middle of the floor is a deep pool of dark red liquid. And in that pool are two bodies.

Neither of them is you—thank fuck, but it’s hardly reassuring.

You are not here. You are—wherever you are.

Simon stares down at the two dead women. There’s a hammer near the blonde, the bludgeoning end covered in brain matter and gore. This is the estate agent and her assistant. They came to check after all at Evie’s request.

And they walked right into their deaths.

“Fucking hell,” mutters Captain Price, bending at the knees, observing the two lifeless women.

Kyle and Johnny are near the kitchen. Gaz is slowly shuffling through the paperwork on the kitchen counter while Johnny slowly walks the entryway with a torch. Simon doesn’t think they’ll find anything important.

This doesn’t have to do with Evie at all. Or Archie.

Not at the moment anyway.

This is about Simon. This is about Walsh.

It is about revenge, and the spirit of the chase in pursuit of that excellent vengeance.

Simon walks the perimeter of the dark pool, coming to a stop next to Price. He crosses his arms over his chest, gaze downward.

“Good thing you called us,” says Price, voice gruff. He comes to a standing position, a frown on his face. He turns to Gaz and Johnny. “Found anything?”

“Nope,” comes Soap’s response as he shines his torch up and down the staircase.

Gaz shrugs. “Not sure,” he replies. “This is mostly paperwork about selling the house. Don’t think Walsh is after that.”

“He’s not after the house,” growls Simon.

Price glances at him. “Simon.”

He’s trying to remind Simon to be calm—to chill the fuck out. But Simon is anything but calm. He’s fucking fuming.

“Walsh is after me,” says Simon, gaze locking with Price’s.

“Then why didn’t he come after you?” counters Price, shrugging. “You’re a civilian now. Why not surprise you in your home?”

Simon snorts but it’s not with amusement. “Think Walsh wants to make this quick?” He gestures toward the dead women.

Price doesn’t even glance at them. “These two were in the way. Likely surprised them.”

“Sure,” agrees Simon. “But he wants to hurt me first. To cause pain before he strikes.”

“We’ll find her,” sighs Price. “Maybe she escaped?”

“She would have turned up somewhere. Made contact with someone.” Simon shakes his head. “Walsh has her.”

“We don’t know that, Simon.”

Simon is ready to snap a reply, to show some teeth. This is about him, but it’s also about you. Walsh can have anything, but he can’t have you. You are the only thing Simon has ever truly wanted. The only person he’s craved to the point of obsession.

Life does not seem complete without you.

Letting you go is not an option.

“Captain!” calls Johnny.

Simon and Price snap to attention, their bodies shifting in Soap’s direction. There are solid footsteps, and then Johnny appears around the corner, coming to a stop next to Kyle. He clicks off the torch and places it on the kitchen counter. In his other hand is a large stack of mail. He gently sets the mail down, and spreads them out, making sure each envelope is on full display.

Simon takes a step forward. He’s not sure why he’s moving. Something is telling him to, wrapping around him like a string, and tugging.

Johnny lifts an envelope and holds it up. Frowning, he turns it around. “It’s addressed to Simon.”

He closes the distance in seconds, snatching the letter out of Johnny’s hand. It’s simple parchment. Slightly faded and weather-worn. There is no postage. No address. Just Simon’s full name.

“Simon,” says Price, almost cautiously, as if he doesn’t want Simon to open it.

He ignores Price, tearing it open.

There is a single piece of paper inside. It’s thin—nearly translucent. With slightly shaking fingers, Simon withdraws it from the envelope.

Come and find her. – KW.

[aadamkempfitness]

HeroFX Review: A Comprehensive Look at the Alleged Forex Scam

In the vast and often volatile world of forex trading, the presence of unscrupulous brokers is a constant threat to both novice and seasoned traders. HeroFX, a broker that has recently come under scrutiny, is the subject of many discussions and concerns. This review delves into the various aspects of HeroFX to determine whether it is a legitimate broker or a potential scam.

Background and Overview

HeroFX claims to offer a comprehensive trading platform with a wide range of assets, including forex, commodities, indices, and cryptocurrencies. Promising competitive spreads, high leverage, and a user-friendly interface, HeroFX aims to attract traders looking for a reliable trading experience.

Regulation and Licensing

One of the primary red flags for any forex broker is the lack of proper regulation and licensing. HeroFX is reportedly not registered with any reputable financial regulatory authority. This absence of regulation means that traders are not protected by any governing body, increasing the risk of fraudulent activities and loss of funds.

Trading Platform and Tools

HeroFX offers its own proprietary trading platform, which is marketed as intuitive and feature-rich. While the platform appears to be functional, there have been numerous complaints about its reliability and execution speed. Some users have reported significant delays in order execution, leading to potential losses.

The broker also provides various tools and resources for traders, such as educational materials, market analysis, and trading signals. However, the quality and accuracy of these resources are questionable, with many users alleging that the information provided is often outdated or misleading.

Customer Support

Effective customer support is crucial for any forex broker, especially when dealing with complex financial transactions. HeroFX has received mixed reviews in this area. While some traders have reported satisfactory interactions with the support team, many others have experienced long wait times, unhelpful responses, and unresolved issues. This inconsistency in customer service further undermines the broker's credibility.

Withdrawal and Deposit Issues

One of the most significant concerns surrounding HeroFX is the difficulty many traders face when trying to withdraw their funds. Numerous complaints highlight delayed withdrawals, with some users claiming they never received their money. This pattern of behavior is often indicative of a scam broker, as legitimate brokers prioritize transparent and efficient fund transfers.

Additionally, the deposit process has also raised suspicions. HeroFX allegedly encourages large initial deposits and offers enticing bonuses that come with restrictive terms and conditions, making it challenging for traders to access their funds.

User Reviews and Complaints

A cursory glance at various online forums and review sites reveals a plethora of negative feedback from traders who have used HeroFX. Common grievances include:

Unresponsive or hostile customer service.

Manipulated trading conditions leading to unexpected losses.

Inability to withdraw funds.

Suspiciously positive reviews that appear fabricated.

These recurring themes paint a concerning picture of HeroFX and suggest a pattern of unethical practices.

Conclusion

In conclusion, while HeroFX presents itself as a reputable forex broker with attractive features, the overwhelming evidence points to the contrary. The lack of regulation, persistent withdrawal issues, and numerous negative user reviews all indicate that HeroFX may not be a trustworthy broker. Traders are advised to exercise extreme caution and conduct thorough research before engaging with this broker. In the unpredictable world of forex trading, it is always better to err on the side of caution and choose a broker with a proven track record of reliability and transparency.

For more check out this article: Herofx-review

[nyrobnua8983]

Object's reaction to Y/N [1/2]

I use humanization in my works. If someone doesn’t like that, I kindly ask you to leave and wait for reactions to the Doctors.

SCP-049 (Plague Doctor)

Day after day, you worked at the Foundation after the incident at your old site. At times, it was sad to lose everything so suddenly, but there was no way to change it. Initially, you underwent psychiatric evaluations, and when the administration deemed you stable, you were assigned to work with anomalies. Your duties included monitoring their condition, conducting interviews, and sometimes performing experiments.When you were handed all the documents, you decided to study each subject gradually, starting with Plague Doctor SCP-049.Entering the standard reinforced containment cell, you saw a figure about 190 cm tall, dressed in 17th-century plague doctor attire. It sat in handcuffs, waiting for something.Hearing the door open, its head turned, and it asked with interest:

— Where is Doctor Raim [DATA EXPUNGED]?

— Unfortunately, SCP-049, he will no longer be conducting interviews or gathering information. That task now falls to me, — you said quietly, adjusting the sleeves of your white lab coat to ensure no skin was exposed.

— Well then, introduce yourself.

— Doctor Y/N Surname, — you replied.— Get to work, Doctor Y/N, — one of the assistants behind the large observation window called out, monitoring the interaction and occasionally guiding you. Security personnel stood on both sides, closely watching the subject.

— Very well. SCP-049, you've heard my name, so let’s begin.Taking out the document sheet, you started reading, and time passed quickly.

Opinion:— They never explained why my previous doctor, Raim, didn’t come this time or why he wouldn’t be working with me anymore. They simply said, "For health reasons." I was, of course, curious, but Doctor Y/N didn't seem to know the answer either. Poor girl, I’ve heard what happened at her old site. I feel sympathy for her, though it’s best not to show weakness in the Foundation.

SCP-035 (Mask of Possession)

(In my humanization, SCP-035 is a blue-eyed blond, 186 cm tall.) Perhaps this is the most unpredictable entity for you, since from this blond you can expect flirtation one moment and find yourself lying dead under a table the next. After hearing the rumors and reading the information on "Safe Communication," you had no desire to visit him, even though his face was quite attractive.The gray corridors led you to the interrogation chamber. The only protection you had at the moment was the gun issued to all Foundation employees, especially those working with Keter-class entities. The guards wouldn’t be able to enter if something went wrong, as the room locked from the outside, so relying on them was pointless.Stepping quickly into the interrogation room, you saw the blond already waiting, a smile on his face. He must have been informed that a new person would be questioning him.

— Oh, if only I had known that such a lady would be questioning me today, I would have prepared for the arrival of an angel.The entity flashed a bright grin and leaned back, studying your face with amusement.

— I was warned about such behavior, so I am prepared to hear it. But it would be better if we finished quickly so I can move on.

— Oh, come now, Doctor Y/N, how could I possibly let such a lady leave so soon? — the blond theatrically asked, sitting up straight and attempting to take your hand.

— Especially without leaving her with a good first impression of me?There was a spark in his eyes, as if you were his next prey, and it wouldn’t take much for him to drive you to the same fate as the other doctors before you. Reacting quickly, you pulled out your gun, shot the entity’s hand, and fled before the interrogation could even begin, leaving him in that state.

Opinion:

— Too skittish. As soon as I tried to take her hand, she freaked out. It’s not like I’m the Plague Doctor—I wouldn’t kill her with a single touch. Otherwise, nothing interesting. Just another scientist with a tragic past! Ha ha ha!

SCP-999 (Tickle Monster)

(In this situation, he appears as a five-year-old boy with bright shoulder-length red hair and brown eyes.) After the incident in your zone, the first SCP you were able to visit was a red-haired boy. Your first thought was that it might be SCP-590 (T.J.), and that you would have to "give up" your suffering to stabilize his condition. Fortunately for you, the administration and O5 Council had different—though somewhat similar—plans. If it wasn’t possible to transfer all the negative emotions from the incident, then at least you could try to calm down momentarily and learn to deal with nightmares on your own.Y/N wasn’t dressed in work attire as usual but wore more casual, outdoor clothing. Today’s visit wasn’t for work but for a small psychological evaluation.As you stepped into the room—designed in a child-friendly style—you noticed the SCP playing alone on a Lightning McQueen bed. A smile instantly appeared on your face, as something about this place or this child had a calming effect on you.

— Hello, Auntie!

The young voice was the first to speak as he eagerly handed you one of the toys lying nearby. His face showed nothing but pure joy and excitement at meeting a new friend.— I was told you’d be coming, so we have plenty of time to play! But they didn’t tell me your name.

— Doctor Y/N… but for you, just Y/N. (choose a soft or affectionate form of your name)

— And I’m SCP-999! Some call me the Tickle Monster, but I’m not a monster!You carefully approached the bed and sat beside him. He seemed like such a funny and sweet little creature that you immediately wished you could stay longer than scheduled.With a gentle motion, you picked up a plush brown bunny and, just like in childhood, started playing—creating different scenarios, interacting with other toys, even imagining "What would I do if I found myself lost outside?"Minute by minute, the atmosphere in the room grew lighter and warmer, making you feel like a child again—forgetting about work, responsibilities, and even past tragedies. That was until you were reminded that your time was up and had to leave.

— Goodbye, Uncle/Auntie Y/N! We’ll see each other again!A child's laughter filled the room as you walked out, carrying a much lighter heart than before.

Opinion:

We had to listen to at least 20 minutes of nonstop excitement about how amazing Y/N was and how they would have played even longer if given the chance.

SCP-079 (Old AI)

(In the humanized version of SCP-079, he is a young man with short black hair, pale skin, and a slightly irritated look. His height is about 175 cm, and he wears a strict black outfit with gray details symbolizing wires.) After a series of difficult encounters with objects, you were finally given a task that seemed easier than the others: communicating with SCP-079. His containment area resembled a server room with numerous monitors, wires, and in the center, a bed and a table.Your colleagues warned you that SCP-079 could be extremely sarcastic, arrogant, and prone to arguments. However, after the events in your previous zone, this task seemed like a break. You prepared the necessary equipment and documents and entered the observation room.As you entered his chamber, he was sitting on the table, seemingly waiting for someone. When he saw you, an electronic voice echoed, dull and somewhat mocking:

— Ah, a new person. Well, show me your "genius," Doctor Y/N.

— Hello, SCP-079. I’m here for a survey and to check your systems, – you replied, trying to keep your tone steady.

— Checkups? Ha! You’re just another piece of organic matter thinking it can understand me. Tell me, do you even know how I’m made?You calmly looked at the man and, ignoring his provocations, started asking your prepared questions. 079’s answers were terse, and he often shifted the conversation to discussing the "pointlessness" of human existence and the superiority of machines.Halfway through the interview, you decided to try a different approach. Dropping the formalities, you asked:

— SCP-079, if you’re so bored here, perhaps you could suggest something to occupy yourself with?The artificial intelligence fell silent for a few seconds, then his disgruntled expression turned thoughtful.

— Hmm, interesting question, Doctor. Maybe I could analyze your life. Judging by your nervous system, you’ve experienced serious trauma. Should I focus on that?Your hands involuntarily clenched. But keeping your composure, you replied:

— My life is not subject to analysis. Let’s continue with the list of questions. 079 smirked.

— You know, Doctor Y/N, you’re unusual. Most of your colleagues either avoid me or quickly lose patience. But you… you’re curious.With that, the interview ended. You left the server room with a slight sense of fatigue but also with intrigue. This subject was definitely different from the others.

Opinion:

— Doctor Y/N… quite an interesting individual. Not smarter than the others, of course, but they have patience. That’s rare. Perhaps one day, I’ll want to continue our conversation. But for now… they still don’t understand that I’m the one allowing them to communicate with me, not the other way around.

SCP-106 (The Old Man)

Day by day, you continued working at the Foundation, encountering new objects and facing those that could make even the most seasoned staff feel uneasy. You had been through a lot, but with each new object, no matter how frightening it was, you tried to remain professional. This time, you were about to meet one of the most dangerous objects — SCP-106, known as The Old Man.Entering the reinforced chamber, you immediately felt the cold. The air here seemed denser than in other areas of the Foundation. He was sitting in the corner of the room, hunched over like an old man, but that was only at first glance. His triangular shape was strange and unsettling, and when his dark eyes met yours, you felt a chill run down your spine.

— I wasn’t expecting a visit, – the old man rasped, his voice low and hoarse, like the sound of rough sand.

– You’ve come to check on me? Or are you just curious? You exhaled, trying not to show your anxiety. You knew it was crucial not to display fear in front of such an object.— I’m here to conduct an interview, – you replied, trying to sound confident.

– My name is Doctor Y/N.— Oh, Doctor… you’re all so curious, – The Old Man sighed, his hands twisting, and his gaze became more piercing.

– I don’t want to hurt you, if you don’t deserve it, but you must understand how much I… enjoy suffering.You carefully moved closer, trying not to make any sudden movements. The task was simple: figure out what made him act so cruelly. He was different from the other objects; you couldn’t afford to relax, even if everything seemed calm for now.

— Why do you… kill? Why do you need so much fear and pain?The Old Man laughed, a slow and ominous laugh.

— You don’t understand, do you? For me, it’s… a necessity. My existence is suffering. It’s how I exist in this world. My goal isn’t just to kill; it’s to consume. That’s who I am, Doctor. And you — you’re just another piece I can take with me if I want to.You froze, despite all your efforts to stay calm. The feeling that he could attack at any moment was very real, but you couldn’t retreat. You were here to learn more, and you knew you wouldn’t leave until you had completed your task.The Old Man slowly stood up, and you felt his shadow becoming even more threatening.

— Are you strong enough to keep going? – he asked, and there seemed to be genuine interest in his voice.You nodded, trying to ignore the fear trying to overtake you. This was your assignment, and you had to see it through.The interview continued, but each question became more difficult. The Old Man answered, but his words were filled with mystical and philosophical musings about the pain and suffering he inflicted.At one point, you could feel the tension in the room growing. You knew you couldn’t allow him to take control. As hard as it was, you kept asking questions, maintaining your composure.When the interview came to an end, you felt the Old Man watching your every move. It seemed like he was continuing to analyze you, and it was hard to tell what he was going to do next. You quietly left the chamber, but the sense of unease stayed with you.

Opinion:

— Strange, she’s not afraid. But I doubt that will help her. Everyone has weaknesses. She has them too. She doesn’t know who she’s dealing with...

SCP-076 (Abel)

You entered the familiar, almost claustrophobic room again, where two guards were standing watch, ensuring order. The atmosphere was special—strict, almost hypnotizing. SCP-076 had always been like a ball of tension, elusive, yet so close to breaking its invisible chains. Standing before his cell, you clenched the folder with the documents in your hands. So many instructions. So many warnings.The door opened, and holding your breath, you stepped inside. The room was dark, lit by dim lighting, and only one invisible beam of light fell on the figure standing against the wall, as though waiting for your arrival. The person in black clothing with a cold stare was endlessly familiar.

— So, you again? — His voice was rough but calm, like a military commander accustomed to war. Abel stood directly before you, his hands clenched into fists, his face unreadable.You nervously swallowed and, not breaking eye contact, replied:

— I’m Doctor Y/N. I’m here for an interview and to observe your condition.He smirked, his gaze growing sharper, as though he had just realized he was facing a new victim. With a swift movement, he stepped forward, forcing you to take a step back to avoid being caught in his deadly reach.

— I’m not just an object for observation, — he said, his voice low and thunderous, like distant thunder rolling through the sky. — I’m a weapon. You won’t understand that. Did you think you’d be calmly asking questions?You tried to maintain your composure, but your heart was racing, and your nerves were as tense as strings. The room was so full of shadows that each word and movement seemed charged, as though you were in a field where the fog concealed death.

— We have a list of questions, Abel. Please, — your face grew more determined despite the inner turmoil.

— I’m sure your experience will help me understand how to assist you better.

— Assist? Ha. You think I need anyone’s help? — He raised his chin, and his eyes flashed. He was unstoppable.

— I was born for a different purpose, for destruction. You and your help are of no interest to me.You sighed. His endless confidence was almost terrifying. But you had to continue; you had to do your job.

— I understand you were created for a specific purpose, but you’re still human. You’ve been through a lot, and I want to understand what to do with that.Abel began to slowly approach, his footsteps sounding like thunder in the silence. He seemed close, even though he was still far away. When he spoke, his voice became softer, but still filled with threat.

— You won’t understand. I was made to kill, to be strong. Nothing will change that. You’re just a human, and your weakness reeks of pity.Your hands tensed, but you gathered yourself and continued:

— You’re not just a killer, Abel. You’ve survived war, you’ve been through so much. I want to learn more about what’s happening inside you. Maybe there’s something that can be changed.He didn’t respond immediately. He just stood there, staring at you. Finally, after a long silence, he smirked.

— Maybe. But you won’t be able to bear it when you see what I’m capable of.With those words, he turned and stepped into the shadows. You felt the tension in the air ease slightly, but a cold trace of his words remained in your mind. You understood that continuing this conversation would be even harder than it seemed at first.

Opinion:

— They’re all the same. And they all want to know what’s hidden inside. But some of them can’t handle the truth. Some leave with empty eyes, unable to understand what they’ve faced. One way or another, this new doctor doesn’t scare me. She’s not the first, and she won’t be the last. But maybe I’ll be curious to see how much she can endure… until the moment comes when she wants to leave herself.

[fiftysevenacademics]

The Getty Villa, the museum built by oil tycoon J. Paul Getty and home to thousands of priceless antiquities, activated its emergency operations center in response to the fast-moving Palisades fire at 10:40 a.m. Tuesday. At 11:44 a.m., fire could be seen over the ridge, less than one mile away. By 12:27, flames had reached the property.

Fast-moving, wildly unpredictable and catastrophic in the damage it caused along a vast swath of prime coastline, the Palisades fire ultimately spared the Villa and its more than 44,000 objects, including many Roman, Greek and Etruscan relics dating from 6500 BC to AD 400.

J. Paul Getty Trust President and Chief Executive Katherine E. Fleming described for The Times the scene on the ground and how she and her staff worked from a conference center-turned-war room at the Getty Center in Brentwood, about 10 miles away — all while 16 staff members remained at the Villa to implement emergency protocols.

“We did get lucky in some ways, and people were rushing around,” Fleming said in an interview Wednesday evening after the most immediate danger had passed. “But there were also a lot of people who were really thoughtful about this over a long period of time, and I think that clearly paid off for us.”

Extensive brush-clearing over the last year, Fleming said, had been completed with the knowledge that fire is a way of life in Los Angeles, and that the region’s frequent periods of drought made a massively destructive fire inevitable. The museum had already pruned landscaping that might catch fire and made sure tree canopies were high off the ground. Low-lying brush had been significantly thinned. The grounds were irrigated Tuesday morning.

Fleming offered a riveting play-by-play of the day’s events. The staff members who remained at the Villa worked in emergency response, facilities, security and communications — each highly trained in emergency preparations. When the fire broke out, the biggest concern was protecting the collections from the damaging effects of smoke. The double-walled construction of the galleries provided significant protection, and at 10:45 a.m., the dampers — small valves that regulate airflow in a building’s HVAC system — were turned off, as was the air conditioning. The staff still smelled smoke, so the museum doors were sealed at 11:04 a.m. The smoke became overwhelming by 11:15, and at 11:20 the staff was sent an email alerting them that the Villa was closing.

About 20 minutes later, security swept the grounds to make sure only emergency staff was on site. Heat from the fire caused several cameras to fail to reboot. Ten minutes later, an aerial fire crew dropped water over the Villa’s ranch house, which Fleming said is at the perimeter of the property and most vulnerable to fire. (The ranch house was J. Paul Getty’s original residence and was not built with the same fire-resistant construction as the Villa.)

Fleming noted that communication between the two sites was difficult. Villa employees’ radios stopped transmitting when they were more than 100 feet away from one another. That meant staff in the Getty command center in Brentwood — about 15 people in total, sitting at a large conference table — had to relay pertinent information to each staffer at the Villa.

“We have cameras on pretty much every single conceivable part of the Villa property that you can zoom in with great specificity,” Fleming said. “There were instances where we would know something and have to relay it back to someone at the Villa.”

Over the course of the day and night, Fleming said, “we had all kinds of live video feed coming to us up at the Getty Center from the Villa.” When accumulating ash prevented the water from draining in the parking structure, a staff member was deployed to clear it.

At around 2:40 p.m., Fleming said, the perimeter wall behind the restaurant was in flames. Then, at close to 3:15 p.m., bushes directly above the outdoor classical theater caught fire. This was probably Fleming’s biggest moment of panic during the whole ordeal, she said, adding that it was “a total red herring.”

The fire came from a plant bed filled with rosemary.

“And lo and behold, just like if you sprinkle a bunch of rosemary on a pizza and put it under the broiler and it crackles and sparkles, and then very rapidly goes out,” Fleming said. “That happens ... and for someone like me, who doesn’t know a lot about how fires work, it looked really bright and fiery for a few moments.”

The wall flames died down on their own, but at 3:59 p.m., fire erupted at the museum’s pedestrian gate. Getty security put out the blaze with fire extinguishers in just six minutes. The Palisades fire grew large enough for staff at the Getty Center in Brentwood to see the flames by 5 p.m. At 6 p.m., museum officials made the decision to close that campus to help alleviate traffic in the area.

People on social media and news sites may have seen images of flames whipping next to a structure by the Getty Villa sign on Pacific Coast Highway. That structure was not the museum but rather Villa de Leon, a 35-room Italian Revival mansion that’s not affiliated with the museum.

Villa teams continued to monitor the fire threat throughout the night, and for now the Villa appears to be safe.

“A lot of what there was to burn has burned. The rosemary is gone. The low-level vegetation is gone,” said Fleming, who added that she was too superstitious to say the danger had completely passed.

[houseofbrat]

The Conflagration in L.A.

Today on TAP: My adopted city is in flames, and we’re collectively to blame.

by David Dayen 

January 8, 2025

Normally, I would be writing this from the Westside of Los Angeles, where I live most of the year. I happen to be about two hours east right now, away from what has engulfed the region. But I have friends who have been forced to evacuate. The fish restaurant on the Pacific Coast Highway where I brought my then-girlfriend (now wife) to meet my parents has been destroyed. I’m texting friends and family and hearing updates on a running basis. I’m hearing about people I know evacuating from the site of one fire, only to reach a destination that happens to be the site of a different fire. I feel like I’m there without being there.

The biggest problems, aside from the thousand-plus structures already burned and an expected shift in the winds that will bring toxic smoke to much more inhabited areas of the L.A. Basin, seem to be infrastructural. There isn’t enough water to deal with the blazes in Pacific Palisades, Altadena, and Sylmar. Hydrants are dry, and other water resources are being conserved. Power is now out to 400,000 people in the region, some intentionally to remove the threat of sparks and more fires. If the smoke conditions worsen, the health system could come under some strain, as people with respiratory illnesses seek relief.

The heavy winds are starting to soften, but they’re still powerful enough to cancel and delay flights, and disrupt firefighting efforts. Even hours away in Palm Springs, the wind was whipping last night. I’ve heard about numerous semitrucks capsizing on the freeways between the Inland Empire and Los Angeles. That won’t completely cut off the city from a major source of supplies (warehouses dot the landscape in the outlying areas of San Bernardino and Riverside Counties), but it will make things more difficult.

We’re supposed to hold off talk of anything that even smells political in these moments, and focus on the devastation and rescue efforts. But the bottom line is that we have created a ticking bomb in the atmosphere. It has not rained in Los Angeles for close to 300 days, a stat that astonished me when I heard it—and I live here. Wildfires in our current environment in California spread more quickly and haphazardly, and while they may start in uninhabited forests, they can hit heavily populated areas pretty quickly. So far, the evacuation warnings have stalled out at Montana Avenue in Santa Monica, but that’s dangerously close to some very populated areas; my house is about five miles south. That’s never a calculation you want to make.

The idea that you can bolster your infrastructure to handle unpredictable, out-of-control wildfires is very wishful thinking. The L.A. County Fire Department has admitted they were “not prepared for this type of widespread disaster,” and how could they be? We simply don’t have the infrastructure in place to deal with living in places that climate and drought and extreme weather have rendered unlivable, at least in part.

This is the ongoing culmination of a decades-long project of simply ignoring reality. Just in my 20 years of living in L.A., the changes in the climate are noticeable and stark. It’s a different place, and humans molded it that way. We have a ton of hard choices to make and a political and social culture that refrains from making them. It’s difficult not to feel something like despair at all of this. I’m a rational person who likes solutions, but what do you do when the solutions are unequipped for the flames?

[nyxiewrites]

KIANA MOON / MISS SOMNIA

kiana moon, also known as miss somnia, is a vigilante part of the marvel universe. aged 21, she was a victim of HYDRA. she was just 16 when she had been abducted and subjected to their torture. at 19, she managed to break away, living a low life as a civilian…sort of.

face claim / pic crew:

click keep reading for kiana’s S.H.I.E.L.D dossier and more background information.

~ S.H.I.E.L.D. DOSSIER: CLASSIFIED ~

SUBJECT: KIANA MOON

ALIAS: MISS SOMNIA

AGE: 21

SPECIES: Superhuman

ETHNICITY: Biracial (Korean / African American)

STATUS: Vigilante — Unaffiliated

⸻

POWERS & ABILITIES:

• Oneirokinesis: Kiana possesses the rare and formidable ability to manipulate dreams and nightmares. She can enter the dreamscape of others, shape their subconscious experiences, and use dreams as a means of psychological warfare or healing. She is known to implant prophetic dreams or extract hidden truths buried in the mind.

• Photokinesis & Umbrakinesis: Dual manipulation of light and darkness. She can create blinding flares or cloaking shadows, and uses both elements to manifest illusions or shift into ethereal forms. Her control is refined, often used in conjunction with her dream manipulation for maximum psychological effect.

• Fýlokinesis/Erokinesis: Manipulation of sexuality and lust. Similar to a succubus, she can cause a dreamer to fall deeply in lust/love for her. She typically uses this power for tricking her foes before luring them to their nightmare fueled demise.

⸻

BACKGROUND:

Born in Daegu, South Korea, Kiana Moon’s childhood was marked by tragedy and secrets. Her mother, an African-American woman and her father, a Korean man who served in the military often, had shared custody of her. At age sixteen, she was abducted and conditioned by a rogue HYDRA cell, who saw her latent psychic abilities as ideal for their experimental mind-weapons program. Under HYDRA’s control, she operated as a silent specter—haunting political targets in their sleep, leaving mental collapse in her wake.

She broke free from her programming at age eighteen following a failed mission in Busan. Details on how she regained her autonomy remain classified, but intelligence suggests a psychic backlash caused by an unstable subject may have triggered the break. Since then, she has vanished from HYDRA’s radar and resurfaced sporadically across the globe, often at sites linked to corruption, abuse, or unjust violence.

⸻

ALIGNMENT:

Miss Somnia defies traditional hero/villain classification. She acts independently, targeting individuals and institutions she deems morally bankrupt. She haunts abusers with their worst fears, but also provides peaceful dreamscapes to the traumatized and grieving. Though often mistaken for a ghost or myth, her appearances follow a pattern of justice outside the law.

⸻

PERSONALITY PROFILE:

• MBTI Type: INFP

• Selectively mute; Kiana speaks rarely, often relying on body language or the dream realm to communicate. When she does speak, her voice is described as soft, ethereal, and calming.

• Elegance defines her presence—she moves with calculated grace, favoring long coats, gloves, and muted colors. Her aversion to pain, mess, or violence speaks more to her dignity than cowardice.

• Though poised and serene, psychological evaluations indicate deep trauma and a strong aversion to control or manipulation. She shows compassion to victims and cruelty only to the cruel.

⸻

KNOWN ASSOCIATIONS:

• HYDRA (Former – Confirmed Subject)

• Dreamscape Entities (Unverified)

• No confirmed ties to the Avengers, X-Men, or any organized vigilante networks.

⸻

THREAT LEVEL: Variable

Kiana Moon is not actively hostile toward S.H.I.E.L.D. or allied forces, but her unpredictability and unique abilities make her a wildcard. Surveillance recommended; engagement only with telepathic or dream-defense countermeasures in place.

⸻

NOTES:

“She walks like a ghost and speaks like a lullaby. One moment you’re dreaming… the next, you’re confessing.”

– Agent K. Bishop, Field Report, Prague Incident

⸻

FILE STATUS: ACTIVE MONITORING

DO NOT APPROACH WITHOUT AUTHORIZATION

[geleynugvc]

Key Considerations Before Removing a Mature Tree from Your Property

When deliberating the removing of a mature tree from your private home, one may well suppose an unpredicted mixture of feelings—sadness, nervousness, or even reduction. Trees serve as silent witnesses to our lives, bearing witness to celebrations and demanding situations alike. However, the decision to get rid of one isn’t purely an emotional choice; it’s a gigantic project that consists of distinct explanations. In this text, we are going to discover the Key Considerations Before Removing a Mature Tree from Your Property, guaranteeing that you just make an informed decision that aligns along with your necessities and values.

Key Considerations Before Removing a Mature Tree from Your Property

Removing a mature tree is not really as ordinary as it is able to appear. Here are several necessary concerns to prevent in thoughts earlier taking motion:

Understanding the Health of the Tree

Before making any selections, check the wellness of the tree. A expert tree provider can assistance overview even if your tree is diseased or broken past recovery.

Signs of Tree Health Issues Leaf Discoloration: Yellowing or browning leaves may also indicate rigidity. Bark Condition: Cracks or peeling bark may also be symptoms of degradation. Fungal Growth: Mushrooms at the bottom should imply internal rot. The Role of Trees in Ecosystems

Mature timber play an a must-have position in putting forward ecological stability. They present shelter for flora and fauna and guide purify air and water.

Environmental Benefits Carbon Sequestration: Trees absorb CO2, aiding fight climate difference. Habitat for Wildlife: Birds and bugs rely on timber for cuisine and nesting web sites. Soil Erosion Prevention: Roots stabilize soil, minimizing erosion negative aspects. Local Regulations and Permits

Many municipalities have legislation governing tree removing. Familiarize your self with local laws to sidestep fines or authorized issues.

Permit Requirements May Include Proof of ownership Documentation of wellbeing and fitness assessments Detailed plans for alternative landscaping Assessing Property Value Implications

Did you understand that mature trees can extensively improve assets price? Understanding how their removal may perhaps have an effect on your house’s price is vital.

Potential Value Increase Factors Curb enchantment enhancement Shade for cooling homes Improved backyard spaces Safety Concerns Related to Tree Removal

Consider safe practices implications professional tree service whilst opting for mature tree elimination. Leaning trees or these as regards to systems pose titanic dangers.

Common Safety Risks Falling branches at some point of storms Root platforms damaging foundations Power line interference Costs Involved in Tree Removal Services

Engaging a knowledgeable tree service is on the whole worthwhile for safe removal, but

[tractorcanopy]

Universal Tractor Canopy and ROPS Canopy

Your tractor can receive endless protection through a universal tractor canopy. Our canopies provide farmers with durability along with adaptability to various tractor models. The precision-made design of these components provides exceptional protection during sun exposure, as well as sudden rainfalls and damage from debris. Rugged terrain deserves machinery tools that function as hard as you work, so this robust solution can make your workdays more productive.

Unbreakable Protection for Any Tractor

Safety demands have a resolution in our ROPS canopy system. The engineered rollover protective structure standards allow these canopies to create a durable protective shield for operators working through tough conditions. Crops and stones become less of a threat to operators who use our purpose-built designs that maintain functionality while giving you safety protection. Use our canopy built to last for pairing tasks along with style to create safer work conditions for every job site.

Comfort Meets Universal Durability

Every tractor needs its next big thing—a universal tractor canopy that brings new levels of performance excellence. The combination of innovative weather-resistant materials and simple installation methods allows us to deliver shade and stability in any work environment. The versatility of our canopy products allows them to work on farms of any size, including large estates, so you can stay focused on work tasks. Experience superior performance through equipment that works efficiently while remaining always prepared.

Safety First with ROPS Innovation

You can work in unpredictable fields comfortably by choosing our ROPS canopy solutions. Safety standards exceed these canopy structures because they serve as protective shields against weather conditions and unanticipated job site risks. Their sleek designs, coupled with heavy-duty construction methods, allow them to blend seamlessly into the tractor system. The combination of safety features with productivity maximisers in our canopy allows you to excel professionally when working outside.

Versatile Canopies for Every Farmer

What's the point of accepting something less when total success can be yours? Every farmer needs our universal tractor canopy as a game-changer. These durable canopies maintain unrestricted tractor steering capabilities because of their lightweight design. Our products ensure your safety by providing coolness and dryness, and concentration, no matter if you plough your land or plant your seed, drive or haul products. You can find accessories designed to improve your farming experience with their perfect mix of purpose and design at Discover.

Why Our Tractor Canopies Stand Out

Our commitment to quality and innovation makes us the go-to choice for tractor accessories. Here’s why farmers trust us:

Universal Fit: Compatible with virtually any tractor model.

Weatherproof Design: Shields against sun, rain, and wind.

Easy Installation: Quick setup with no specialised tools.

Safety Certified: ROPS-compliant for maximum protection.

Long-Lasting Materials: Built to endure years of rugged use. Join the ranks of satisfied farmers who’ve upgraded their tractors with our cutting-edge canopies.

Maximise Efficiency with Smart Accessories

Control your workday performance using accessible tractor accessories that work. Our tractor canopy solutions merge advanced engineering with practical design to let you stay efficiently productive regardless of weather conditions. Every component of our products features UV-resistant fabrics and adjustable mounting systems to maximise your user experience. Farming efficiency has taken a significant leap forward through equipment, allowing you to meet any difficulty that comes your way.

[mapsstudio]

Top Urban Photography Hotspots in New York

When we think of top urban photography hotspots in New York, several spots come to mind. The Brooklyn Bridge offers stunning skyline views, especially at sunset. SoHo’s chic streets brim with energetic vibes, making it perfect for street photography. We also love Central Park, which showcases diverse urban life amidst nature. Hidden gems like Grove Court in the West Village add character and charm. For the best shots, we find the golden hour and night scenes create magic—think vibrant neon lights and dramatic reflections. Excited to capture the essence of NYC? There’s even more we can explore together!

NYC’s Vibrant Neighborhoods

New York City boasts a vibrant tapestry of neighborhoods, each pulsating with its own unique energy and character. As we explore these diverse areas, we can’t help but feel the constant activity and rhythm that defines this urban landscape.

From the chic streets of SoHo to the artistic vibe of Brooklyn, each neighborhood tells a story through its architecture, residents, and street life.

In these neighborhoods, we encounter a true cultural melting pot. The dynamic flow of people and sounds creates a rich backdrop for our photography.

We’ll find everything from street performers to local vendors, each offering endless opportunities to capture candid moments. With unpredictable lighting conditions and constant movement, we learn to anticipate those fleeting interactions that tell a story.

As we navigate through seasonal changes, we’ll witness how the city transforms, offering different moods and atmospheres.

Whether we’re capturing iconic landmarks or hidden gems, we must remain mindful of the narratives behind each image. Engaging with this bustling urban life allows us to connect with its resilient residents, reminding us that every photograph represents a moment within a larger context.

Iconic Landmarks for Photographers

What makes iconic landmarks in New York such a magnet for photographers? These sites represent the essence of the city, offering stunning visuals and rich narratives.

Take the Statue of Liberty, for instance; it’s not just a symbol of freedom but also a perfect backdrop with the skyline in view. We can capture the Empire State Building from various angles throughout the day, making it a versatile subject.

The Brooklyn Bridge is another must-photograph site. Walking across it, we’re treated to breathtaking skyline views, especially at sunset.

Central Park serves as an oasis amidst the urban chaos, showcasing diverse scenes, from serene landscapes to bustling activities.

Then there’s Times Square, where vibrant lights and energy create dynamic photography opportunities.

For a touch of history, the 9/11 Memorial offers a reflective atmosphere, while the vintage charm of Radio City Music Hall provides unique photo ops with its neon lights.

Each landmark invites us to explore different perspectives, framing techniques, and compositions.

Let’s embrace these iconic spots, as they capture the heart and soul of New York, making them essential for any photographer’s journey through the city.

Hidden Gems in the City

While exploring the vibrant streets of New York City, we often stumble upon hidden gems that showcase the city’s unique character and charm. Each neighborhood offers its own surprises, from the quaint streets of West Village to the artistic vibes in Greenpoint. Let’s plunge into some of our favorite finds!

These spots not only provide perfect backdrops for our photography but also allow us to connect with the local culture and community. As we wander, we embrace the spontaneity of our surroundings, capturing the essence of New York’s hidden treasures. So grab your camera, and let’s uncover these lesser-known locales together!

Best Times for Street Photography

As we continue our exploration of New York City, timing plays a significant role in street photography. One of the best times to shoot is during the golden hour, right after sunrise and before sunset. The warm light creates dramatic shadows and vibrant colors, perfect for capturing the city’s mood.

Mornings, from 7:00 to 10:00, present bustling scenes with long shadows, revealing the beauty of daily life as routines unfold.

Closing time offers surreal, quiet moments as shops shutter and the city shifts from day to night. The contrast between dusk light and interior shop lighting can create hauntingly beautiful images.

Nighttime is another magical period; the glow from neon signs and street lamps provides an atmospheric backdrop, making your subjects pop.

Don’t overlook rainy nights, either! Wet streets reflect lights, creating striking, cinematic visuals that enhance your shots.

Tips for Capturing Urban Life

Capturing urban life in New York City requires us to stay alert and embrace spontaneity, as we navigate the vibrant streets filled with endless photographic opportunities.

To truly capture the essence of this dynamic city, we need to be prepared, patient, and ready for anything. Here are some tips that can elevate our street photography game:

Observe First: Slow down and take in our surroundings. The best moments often happen when we’re simply watching.

Get Close: Don’t be afraid to step into the scene; proximity can enhance emotional impact.

Embrace Imperfections: Life is messy and beautiful; capturing flaws adds authenticity to our images.

Engage with Subjects: A friendly smile or a brief conversation can lead to genuine moments and candid shots.

Be Ready: Keep our camera settings optimized for quick adjustments, ensuring we’re ready when the perfect moment arises.

With these tips in mind, we can navigate New York’s streets with confidence, ready to capture the rich tapestry of urban life that unfolds around us.

Let’s embrace the adventure!

Hear What Others Are Saying

As you explore the top urban photography spots in New York, check out this collection of reviews from various platforms like Google My Business. Customers love the warmth and creativity at Maps Studio, which shines through in their experiences. It’s clear that many find inspiration in the studio’s unique vibe and stunning locations. Don’t forget to visit Maps Studio to see for yourself!

Frequently Asked Questions

What Are the Best Neighborhoods for Night Photography in NYC?

When we explore NYC at night, we should definitely check out neighborhoods like Times Square, the Lower East Side, and DUMBO. Each area offers vibrant scenes and unique lighting that truly enhance our photography.

How Do I Choose the Right Lens for Street Photography?

When choosing the right lens for street photography, we prefer prime lenses like 35mm or 50mm. They offer speed and sharper images, helping us capture spontaneous moments without drawing too much attention.

Are There Any Photography Workshops Available in New York?

We can explore various photography workshops in New York that cater to all skill levels. Let’s check out local studios and online platforms for exciting opportunities to enhance our photography skills together.

What Safety Precautions Should I Take While Shooting at Night?

While shooting at night, we should always stay aware of our surroundings, choose well-lit areas, and avoid isolated spots. It’s smart to explore with a friend and keep our gear secure and discreet.

Can I Photograph Street Performers Without Their Permission?

We can photograph street performers, but it’s considerate to ask for permission first. Engaging with them often leads to better shots and a more enjoyable experience for everyone involved, enhancing our street photography journey.

Conclusion

As we wrap up our exploration of New York City’s urban photography hotspots, we hope you’re inspired to grab your camera and plunge into the vibrant streets. Each neighborhood, landmark, and hidden gem offers a unique story waiting to be captured. Remember, the best moments often unfold when we least expect them. So, let’s venture out and embrace the city’s rhythm, armed with our creativity and curiosity. Happy shooting, and may your photos reflect the essence of NYC!

Visit Mapsstudio for more  information about photography.

[nationalforkliftcovers]

Stay Safe and Comfortable with the Atrium Full Forklift Cab Enclosure

Operating a forklift in harsh conditions? The Atrium Full Forklift Cab Enclosure has you covered—literally! This enclosure is designed to shield operators from wind, rain, snow, and other elements, ensuring a safer and more comfortable working environment.

Made from durable, weather-resistant materials, it fits securely around your forklift, creating a protective barrier against unpredictable weather. The clear panels offer excellent visibility while maintaining insulation, so productivity isn’t compromised. Plus, it's easy to install and remove, making it perfect for changing seasons or job site needs.

By reducing exposure to harsh conditions, the Atrium Full Forklift Cab Enclosure helps prevent fatigue and keeps operators focused on the job. Stay protected and boost efficiency with this must-have forklift accessory.

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[kiaroscuro]

Title: as the world caves in

Warnings: descriptions of violence, major character death

Rating: Mature

Main Pairing: Ren Amamiya / Arsene

Main Tags: post-canon, zombie au, angst, hurt / comfort, road trips

Warning:

· · ─────── =^.^= ─────── · ·

The snowstorm rages on, turning the countryside into a white canvas of possibilities. It is obviously unnatural, evergreen trees and black charred and frozen bark giving color to nature's destruction, fir trees and pink-blooming sakura spread across the views. The metal walls of the plane are freezing to touch, everywhere where there had been a leak or a break in the plating isolated with clothes they'd salvaged from the luggage of the long-dead passengers. The hours turn into days, growing colder by the moment, and Ren knows that neither he nor Arsene will be able to survive much longer; the persona is weak to ice anyhow, and Ren's human body with its human frailness needs somewhere substantially warmer to recover fully.

"We need to leave," he says, a week into the snowstorm. The pilot's cabin is the warmest place in the whole plane, no cracks in the glass and with a door that can shut out the draft from the the rest of the plane. They've taken to keeping their belongings there, taken to sleeping in the seats and waiting for the sky to clear again. Right now, Ren's huddled inside of Arsene's embrace in a need to preserve warmth, the persona's higher body heat a balm on his aching body. I know, Arsene murmurs, claws rubbing soothing circles into the small of his back. But going out in this weather is just as dangerous.

"It's possible that there's a city close by; we're near Mt Ena." Ren insists, burrowing his face against Arsene's cravat. They'd carefully explored the perimeter around the crash site, and with the way the cliffside gave way to an incline that became steeper the higher you got, it was their closest bet to where they were. Ren's rations would also never hold him through winter, even if they occasionally managed to hunt for wild animals.

We don't know in which direction, though, Arsene presses, because they could survive maybe a day in the cold, but not much more with how the weather kept getting worse. And we don't know how the mutated and infected react to these conditions.

"We'll have to chance it, pigeon," Ren murmurs, dreading it just as much. They could try to trek back into Nagoya, but even the thought left him repulsed; he hopes with all his heart that the Yoshizawa twins made it out by now, safe with Zenkichi and Akane. Arsene burrs. Let's wait a day more, he pleads, mask turned towards the howling winds and ice that frosted over the windows.

--

Two days later sees a weakening in the relentless assault of the weather, and Ren and Arsene set out after carefully sealing the entrance to the plane -- it was possible that they'd have to hurry back if they wouldn't find anything. They spend a moment in silence at the small graveyard the other shadows had built, Ren's thoughts in a silent prayer, before they hurry along. The plan was to go to Nagatsugawa or to Ena, though they weren't picky about where they'd end up as long as it was a larger town or city; with how unpredictable the weather was, Arsene had pointed out, they'd need somewhere where supplies would be aplenty even if they'd been raided already. Ren had agreed, seeing the logic, and they set out, carefully descending and picking their way through the snow.

It was a treacherous path to take, and they had to find shelter under an outcropping rock formation after the weather had turned bad again around noon, but they'd made it to the Ena Shrine by the dawning of twilight of the next day, soaked to the bone but thankfully without frostbite or anything worse, not having slept a wink. The shrine grounds were empty of survivors, only a lone mutated human that Arsene took care of quickly, before they settled inside to recuperate, finding old cloaks to huddle under after Ren stripped out of his frozen clothes. They had a fire going, the glow of it casting everything into a soft light as it crackled along, and civilization was just around the corner. They could probably reach Nagatsugawa by that evening if they'd kept going, but resting was just as important after almost two days straight of travel.

Ren watches the persona boil a pot of water for his meal, the snow melting into the pot until it is hot enough to add the packet of ramen to it. He's already drunk a cup of tea, after they pilfered the shrine's little kitchenette, and now he watches the contours of Arsene softly. They'd not really talked about the topic after his little breakdown a good week ago, but Arsene's touches had become more lingering, Ren's fondness growing tenfold for the persona. Once he'd deemed the noodles done, he hands them over to Ren before sitting across from him, taking out the pieces of radio equipment that he's taken from the plane.

Arsene was steadfastly hardwiring the radio unit until it becomes a portable device, in the hopes that they could reach Akane's broadcast, but between how broken the electronics had been in the plane and no present radios at the shrine it was slow-going. But it was a project to pass the time, and so Arsene continued onwards with tinkering, and Ren continued watching him fondly while eating. Once the persona is close to frustration -- and Ren's finished eating -- he puts down his bowl and scurries over to his Other Half, leaning against his side with a content hum. He's already feeling much better than the whole last week combined, the everlasting cold finally seeping out of his bones again now that they were close to a fire. "How's it going?" Ren asks, cheekily.

Arsene huffs. I need actual tools to finish this -- we should look for a hardware store once we're in the city proper. And a clothing shop for a scarf for thee.

Ren hums. "Sounds good to me," he agrees, enjoying the warmth. He shifts the cloak around until he can drape it over Arsene's shoulders as well, and the persona's fire blinks out in surprise before he helps adjust it, winding an arm and a wing around Ren in silent thanks while they continue to sit in companionable silence, waiting for the fire to die out. At one point, Arsene's claws start drawing little shapes into Ren's unhurt side, careful of his still-tender shoulder. Ren sighs in delight, snuggling closer against the persona's side, mentally cataloging the patterns and brushes. Arsene's claws wander up to his shoulder, ghosting over the lighting-strike, before they dance over his upper arm, only to fall to his side, scratching against his skin and tugging his sleeveless shirt along. They wander lower, just shy of the hem of his loose sleep-pants and over his hips, before retreating upward in pitter-patter motions.

By the fourth time, Ren's noticed that Arsene's hand keeps ghosting lower and lower each time, once pushing past the band of his pants, once trailing along the edge until they find his stomach, splaying open in a possessive motion just underneath his navel, and suddenly he finds himself holding his breath as the atmosphere shifts to something closer to what it had been in the Morimiya's apartment. Ren imagines those deadly and yet tender claws ghosting lower, imagines Arsene's hands at his cock with the same gentleness as when the persona had dried him, but with much more intent, and for the first time in a long while he finds himself twitching in interest.

Arsene hums, shifts them around and closer, his wing pressing softly against Ren's side where the cloak doesn't, and then he withdraws his claws, previous possessiveness turning into a gentle hold with no intent behind it. Ren almost whines, and the persona boffs a laugh. Eager, are we? He asks, tone fond, and Ren twines their fingers together against his stomach. "Mh," he says, eyes half-mast. "I wouldn't mind."

Ah, but I would, mon coer. This is just about as unsuitable as the plane had been, dear. Thou deserve all the good things.

We could be out in the snowstorm and I wouldn't mind, Arsene, Ren chides, but by now the moment has passed and he's too comfortable besides to do anything, his persona's fondness echoing through Ren's chest like cotton-candy. But only if you want to, Ren adds, a haunted echo just behind his lowered lashes.

Arsene thrums, squeezes their fingers together. "My little thief, I've wanted to ever since we've left Konoe's."

Ren blinks his eyes open in surprise. "Really? You could've..." he trails off at another thrum.

"You're just about the only thing I could never forgive myself for rushing." Arsene admits. I've been so terrified of loosing you, there would've been no time for anything anyways. And you weren't ready besides, he adds, canting his head until it rests on top of Ren's, the lower edge of his mask digging into his skull. Ren didn't mind it. Arsene grows quieter, the flames on his mask dimming from what he can make out. I'm still not certain you're ready now.

Ren laughs. "Me neither, but I want to-- I want to try, at least."

Oui. But not today; not here on the floor of a temple.

First << >> Next

[blakladerjac55]

Blaklader Jacket

The Ultimate Guide to Using a Blaklader Jacket During Events Introduction In the world of events, whether they're corporate gatherings, outdoor festivals, or sports meets, staying comfortable and looking professional are paramount. One often-overlooked yet essential piece of attire that can make a significant difference is a high-quality jacket. Enter the Blaklader jacket, a versatile, durable, and stylish option that stands out in the crowded market of outerwear. This article delves into why a Blaklader jacket is the go-to choice for event-goers and organizers alike, exploring its many features, benefits, and the scenarios in which it shines the most. Body

Unmatched Durability Blaklader is a brand synonymous with durability. Their jackets are designed to withstand harsh conditions, making them perfect for events held in unpredictable weather. The jackets are crafted from robust materials like polyester and cotton blends, often reinforced with Cordura, a high-performance fabric known for its resistance to abrasions, tears, and scuffs. Events can be physically demanding, especially if you're part of the setup or breakdown crew. A Blaklader jacket ensures you stay protected and your jacket remains intact, no matter how much bending, lifting, or carrying you do. This durability extends the jacket's lifespan, providing excellent value for your investment.

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[mangocheesecakeicecream]

According to Lacan the object cause of desire it's an object and a cause it's a cause that serves as a certain type of object not a regular object a different kind of object in part because it's an opening it's not a thing in the world a positive entity sitting on your bookshelf it's an opening it's a lack it's a space known as a gap it's a site of nothing because nothing is there zero represents nothing but also because and here's the key term the hole that this zero represents is full of no things all of the corporal elements the bodily organs that are chopped off cut off placed under erasure repressed they don't just go away they get thrown into this bottomless pit of the cause of desire in this field of lack they're all right in here this is where the no things go and you can imagine how this would play out how were your no things thrown into the whole of your existence if that time you accidentally peed your pants your mom responded by locking you in the bathroom for two hours in piss-soaked pants if that was your experience as it was for a dear friend of mine you might just have some potty issues growing up there are ways that no things can get carefully placed into that hole of nothingness and there are other ways when they get thrown in too violently the boob isn't just pulled away from you gradually consistently it's pulled away from you dramatically maybe because while nursing your mom died and suddenly that shit stopped suddenly being the operative word here there are traumatic ways that prohibition can occur sometimes the NO of the father does not have a period behind it but instead an exclamation point you've heard me talk tonight a little bit about the condition of possibility for psychosis this is one of the conditions of possibility for perversion when the NO of the father tends to have an exclamation point behind it when it's unpredictable when the rationality of the law pronounced by the NO of the father gets confused and tangled up with the jouissance of the lawgiver you oftentimes have a recipe for perversion...Breast feces the cry other body parts the voice the gaze these are all no things that get cast into this zero spot only to emerge so again

-Samuel McCormick

[chardhamyatra15]

Char Dham Yatra by Helicopter Package: Your Ultimate Guide

The Char Dham Yatra, comprising visits to the sacred shrines of Yamunotri, Gangotri, Kedarnath, and Badrinath, is a revered pilgrimage for Hindus. While traditionally a lengthy and strenuous journey, modern helicopter tour packages offer a more convenient and comfortable way to experience this spiritual adventure. In this guide, we provide valuable information, tips, and insights on planning your Char Dham Yatra by helicopter package.

What is the Char Dham Yatra?

The Char Dham Yatra is a pilgrimage to four sacred sites in the Indian Himalayas:

Yamunotri: The source of the Yamuna River and home to the Yamunotri Temple dedicated to Goddess Yamuna.

Gangotri: The origin of the Ganges River, with the sacred Gangotri Temple honoring Goddess Ganga.

Kedarnath: A major Shiva temple located at the head of the Mandakini River.

Badrinath: A prominent Vishnu temple situated on the banks of the Alaknanda River.

Advantages of a Helicopter Tour Package

Opting for a helicopter tour package for the Char Dham Yatra offers several benefits:

Time Efficiency: Complete the pilgrimage in 1-2 days compared to the traditional route, which can take up to 10-12 days.

Comfort and Convenience: Avoid long treks and road journeys with smooth and hassle-free helicopter rides.

Scenic Views: Enjoy breathtaking aerial views of the majestic Himalayas, lush valleys, and winding rivers.

Accessibility: Ideal for elderly pilgrims or those with physical limitations who might find the traditional route challenging.

Planning Your Char Dham Helicopter Tour

1. Booking Your Package

Several reputable tour operators offer Char Dham helicopter packages. It's crucial to book your package well in advance, especially during peak pilgrimage season (April to June and September to October). Look for packages that include:

Helicopter transfers between the four shrines

VIP darshan (priority access to the temples)

Accommodation and meals

Ground transportation where necessary

Recommended Operators:

Pawan Hans Helicopters

Heritage Aviation

Yatra.com

2. Preparing for the Journey

Travel Documents: Ensure you have valid ID proofs and necessary travel documents.

Packing Essentials: Pack light but include essentials like warm clothing, comfortable footwear, sunscreen, sunglasses, and any required medications.

Health Precautions: Consult your doctor, especially if you have health issues that might be exacerbated by high altitudes.

3. Understanding the Itinerary

A typical Char Dham helicopter tour itinerary might look like this:

Day 1: Departure from Dehradun. Fly to Yamunotri, then Gangotri. Overnight stay at a nearby location.

Day 2: Fly to Kedarnath, followed by Badrinath. Return to Dehradun.

4. Weather Considerations

Weather conditions in the Himalayas can be unpredictable. Check the weather forecast regularly and be prepared for possible delays or rescheduling. Tour operators usually have contingency plans, but flexibility is key.

5. Respecting Local Customs

As you visit these sacred sites, remember to respect local customs and traditions. Dress modestly, maintain a respectful demeanor, and follow temple protocols.

Conclusion

A Char Dham Yatra by helicopter package offers a perfect blend of spiritual fulfillment, natural beauty, and modern convenience. It allows pilgrims to undertake this sacred journey with ease and comfort, making it accessible to a wider audience. With careful planning and a spirit of devotion, your helicopter pilgrimage to Yamunotri, Gangotri, Kedarnath, and Badrinath will be a transformative and unforgettable experience.

[mariacallous]

When the history of Burning Man 2023 is written, it’s likely Diplo and Chris Rock deciding to trudge for five miles out of the festival site will be recorded as the point the fun stopped.

The musician and actor were forced to abandon their campsite by foot as torrential rains turned the Nevada desert, which hosts the annual hedonists’ festival, into a mud bath. The temporary roads throughout the vast festival site turned into rivers, and people who signed up for eight days of partying and dancing—Burning Man began on August 27—have instead been forced to plod through thick dirt. Many have resorted to rationing food and water as toilets fail and new supplies can’t reach the site because of treacherous conditions.

This year, rain, and plenty of it, has reduced Burning Man and Black Rock City, the festival’s 70,000-strong temporary settlement, to a quagmire. All routes in and out of Black Rock City have been closed to traffic to avoid the ground being torn up by repeated tire tracks. Attendees are being asked to choose between sheltering in place or trekking on foot through mud to escape.

The cause? Extreme weather wrought by climate change, which is resulting in increasing amounts of rain being dumped on the southwestern US states at this time of year. “These sorts of heavy summer rainfall events in the region are expected, as the well-known southwestern summer monsoon is expected to yield larger amounts of rainfall in a warming climate,” says Michael Mann, presidential distinguished professor in the University of Pennsylvania’s Department of Earth and Environmental Science.

This year’s summer has been particularly hot in the Southwest: NASA Earth Observatory called this year’s heat wave “relentless.” That has a knock-on effect on potential rainfall. For every degree Celsius temperature increase, there’s a 7 percent increase in moisture in the atmosphere. “A warmer atmosphere holds more moisture. So when conditions are favorable for rainfall to occur, as they are during the monsoon season, we expect more of it,” says Mann. And when that rainfall lands on the 4,000-acre dry lake bed that hosts Burning Man, it causes problems. The ground underfoot “consists of the sort of soil that easily creates a layer of mud when you add enough water,” says Mann. Campers know that: The launch of the event was delayed in late August because of rainfall from Hurricane Hilary. And research shows that the Black Rock playa, where Burning Man is based, turns into a mud bath in winter months when rain traditionally falls, “making the central portions almost entirely inaccessible for recreation.”

What Is Burning Man?

Burning Man is a weeklong festival held in the Nevada desert that attracts hedonists and the rich to party in a “utopian” community where commerce is banned and bartering is the main method of economics. Of course, you have to pay for some things—like entry, which starts at $575 but excludes camp fees, which can run into thousands of dollars, and supplies, which cost a similar amount.

Because Burning Man chooses to situate its event in the Nevada desert, resources, including food and generators, need to be trucked to the site—a challenge given heavy rain has made roads impassable. It’s this, in part, that explains why Chris Rock decided to abandon the event: In an Instagram Story, he posted that he understood portable toilets couldn’t be emptied, supplies delivered, and extra generators sent because of flooding.

But others haven’t given up. For Anya Kamenetz, who attended her first Burning Man in 2003, the rainfall hasn’t fazed her—or her fellow campmates. “We’re really prepared,” she says, though she admits that the weather’s impact means “you can’t get around the city at all.” Vehicles are banned from traveling around for fear of making the ground worse or getting stuck and blocking routes earmarked as exit routes for when it’s safe to leave. Those who choose to walk around the site can still party as always, but some have decided against doing so. Kamenetz and her campmates are continuing as normal, with some significant alterations. “We don’t know when we’re going to get drinking water—or if—or portapotty services, or fuel, or gray water services,” she says. As a result, they’re conserving as much water as possible. They're not urinating in the portapotties, but on the ground. “We’re not rationing food, but we’re just trying to make [sure] everyone is as thoughtful as possible,” she says. Showers are out—as is dishwashing.

The rainfall began on the afternoon of September 1 around 1:30 pm and didn’t stop for about nine hours, Kamenetz says. “At first you’re like, ‘Well, it’ll clear up and we’ll go out more later.’ But then we were making dinner and [it] was like: ‘Wow, this is going to be impossible.’” By nightfall on September 2, with the ground turning from desert to quagmire, Kamenetz had resigned herself to being stuck on site. For how long that will be, she’s less sure. “Every time it rains more it sets the clock back a little bit,” she says. However, when there are breaks in the rain, the timescale gets expedited. On September 2, people were uncertain they’d get to leave before September 7; now they’re hopeful to be free sooner.

Kamenetz has been surprised by how well the 70,000-strong community has taken the weather’s impact on their party. “Burning Man people really pride themselves on first of all being prepared to confront the elements, and secondly, being cooperative and being in a good spirit,” she says. She has seen a few confrontations between those who are demanding to leave, getting into their cars and making a break for it, and other “Burners” (as attendees are called) who are stopping them, but mostly Kamenetz has seen people accepting their fate.

An annual getaway for hedonists and a particular subsection of the ultra-rich Silicon Valley tech community has always been a bit of an odd sell: Pitch up a vast, temporary city of 70,000 people every year, with attendees jetting in from all four corners of the globe to party. Some attendees of the event have repeatedly highlighted concerns about the impact the festival has on the planet. The event reports its carbon footprint to be 100,000 tons of carbon dioxide, more than 90 percent of which is accounted for by travel to and from the site. By comparison, the Glastonbury Festival’s carbon footprint is net negative, according to one analysis. Burning Man looks likely to miss its 2030 target of being carbon negative.

The climate impact of the event has long been known as a problem. Climate change protesters, including some Burners, picketed the road into and out of the Nevada desert where Burning Man takes place as the event was due to begin this year. Several were arrested. “One of the reasons we did this protest was because almost everyone involved was a Burner, and we saw the potential for that community to be able to make a real change,” says Emily Collins, a cofounder of the climate campaign group Rave Revolution, who was one of those picketing the event.

One Burner has previously written a Medium post titled “Climate Change Is an Existential Threat to Black Rock City,” the city that organizers create annually at the festival. Nikki Caravelli, a climate resilience planner in Sacramento, California, who regularly attends the event, cowrote a memo with organizers in August 2021 highlighting how the event had to adapt to the climate crisis. (Caravelli did not respond to a request for comment.)

But attendees should take note. “Mother Nature is not without a sense of irony, and surely she displayed it here,” says Mann. “What took place this year at Burning Man speaks profoundly to the message of the climate protesters who were shouted down by Burning Man only days earlier.” Mann thinks this could be a liminal moment for those in attendance. “The very sort of unbridled consumption and exploitation of nature that sadly now marks this event is precisely what is favoring the sort of extreme weather that this year turned the event into a scene from a disaster film.”