#Graphite Cooler

[omegagraphite]

Graphite

Omega graphite is a well-known company for Manufacturers and suppliers of graphite in Mumbai, India graphite is widely used in various industrial applications due to its unique properties, including high thermal conductivity, chemical resistance, and low friction. Graphite equipment, such as heat exchangers, absorbers, and distillation columns, can provide excellent performance in demanding environments where corrosion resistance and thermal efficiency are critical.

Call Us: +919820045787 | Email Us: info@omegagraphite.com | Visit Our Website: https://www.omegagraphite.com/

[mjhartwork]

portrait

[blade-ranger-301]

Piston Peak

So, as mentioned previously in the character sheet, any of my works, art, fanfics, etc will all be based in the UK 🇬🇧

This is just a headcanon that I have. There's not much logic or evidence to back this up or support it as canon. It's just a fun little headcanon of mine. Blade, to me, would make such a good Brit. He's got that morning grumpiness, the intense stoicism, the bad habit of saying "alright" even though he might not be, and he would definitely swear like a brit too. But also, he's hardworking and down to earth.

So, with that, Piston Peak is going to be set in England 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 I've not yet decided if the park will have it's own geographical location or if it's going to replace an already existing one.

Here is the official map for Pistion Peak:

Piston Peak will still have all the features from the movie; V6 Valley, Whitewall Falls, the small basin where the PPAA team is located, etc, but outside of V6 Valley and around the outskirts will be the rest of the park. It will contain features such as lakes, rivers, reservoirs, mountains, hills, forests, and moorlands.

There will also be some camping grounds/camping resorts. And small, cute villages.

Think of this aesthetic:

These geographical features, and the appearance of these features, have taken inspiration from three irl National Parks: The Lake District, Peak District, and Snowdonia National Park.

These three parks hold a special place in my heart. They're my favourite parks and are also the three parks that I've visited most.

The Lake District

The Lake District is located in the north-west of England. It's famously known for its 16 lakes, given it's name. It's also known for the highest mountain in England - Scarfell Pike. It's also the location where Graphite was first discovered before they mass produced Graphite pencils in Europe.

The terrain here is much greener than the Peak District, and is a wide mixture of farmers fields, mountains, hills, moorland, forests, rivers and lakes.

The Peak District

The Peak District is located in the northern-central part of England, sitting directly beside the city of Manchester on it's Eastern side.

This park is mostly full of hills and sloped mountains, covered in moorland grass. There's also more reservoirs here, the most famous being Derwent Dam, known for being a popular training ground for Lancaster bombers when they were testing out the bouncing bomb.

It also has one of the most beautiful drives through the park too. Snake Pass, on the west side of the park coming from Manchester is a well-known road, known for its winding and "snake-like" appearance as you wrap around mountains. You actually follow a river upstream in a valley and arrive at 2 dams. It's also known for its high number of road accidents too.

Snowdonia

Snowdonia National Park, better known as "Eryri" (Er-ru-ree), is located on the north-western side of Wales 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿. It's also the biggest National Park in Wales, and the 3rd biggest in the UK. It's also home to Wales' biggest mountain, Mount Snowdon. Around half of the park homes about 9 mountain ranges.

I tend to visit this park the most often, and I also just spent a week-long holiday here within the National park, but towards the far West where the borders of the park meets the sea.

So for this headcanon to work, we're gonna need some fires 🔥🔥🔥 otherwise there'd be absolutely no point in this.

Now don't get me wrong, we're nothing like the US. US temperatures can be between at least 30 to 40°c in the summer, we often have summers around the low to mid 20's. We may even get as much as the late 20's to 30°C during a heatwave.

We don't get quite as hot as other countries but we have insanely high humidity which prevents things from cooling down, even in the shade or at night, due to the amount of warm moisture in the air - so it actually feels hotter than it is.

The UK has a wet, windy and cooler climate BUT we do have our fair share of wildfires.

The UK Forestry Commision released a report that covers a period between 2009/10 to 2021/22 of wildfires recorded in the UK.

Between this 12 year period, around 360,000 individual wildfires were recorded, and 79,000 acres of land had been impacted.

The majority of individual fires were classed as being "small", but there was 12,000 classed as "primary" big fires.

4,700 fires affected National Parks, and 11,000 impacted "Sites of Special Scientific Interest".

The most affected areas of land were agricultural land, woodland, and residential areas.

Throughout the report, there seemed to be a steady increase in fire incidents throughout the 12 years.

I even had my own first hand experience with a wildfire. In August 2023, there was a wildfire on a field which backs onto my back garden fence at the rear of the house. The grass fire initially started down by the brook right beside my house, very likely started by teenagers, either by a lit cigarette or a vape. Had the wind blown in a different direction, it would've reached us in a few minutes.

Luckily for me, the fire was blown East and it travelled away from my house and along the side of the field. The farmer at the time was growing straw that had since been harvested, so all the tiny straw spikes in the ground were dry and helped to fuel this fire and it spread quickly.

There were flames that did reach at least 8ft in places, but it was the heat and speed of the fire that was the most concerning. It took multiple fire engines and two tractors with flattening equipment behind them to eventually smother the fire, just as it reached the back garden fence of someone's house.

Just witnessing this made me realise how quick these grass fires can spread and just how scary it was if the wind had simply blown the other way.

And with that, comes my conclusion. With the facts and figures I've discussed in this post, I do have a little bit of logic to go with this headcanon of mine. It won't quite sit right with the film but it's not complete nonsense at least XD

Hope you enjoyed reading it :)

[deanwinchesterswitch]

When the Walls Come Down

Summary: Memories and longing chip away at the walls they built to protect their hearts, but as their defenses begin to crumble, shame and regret seep through the cracks threatening to leave love buried beneath the rubble.

Pairing: Dean x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Angst; A tiny bit of fluff; Dean being Dean; Language; Implication of sex work; Canon divergence; Descriptions of high emotional distress; Possible triggers

Betas: @princessmisery666 and @wayward-and-worn

Word Count: 7,532

Part Two

Jody was kind enough to inform them of the other’s impending arrival. Jody didn’t tell them that Dean had texted the day before the get-together to say that Sam would be coming alone and that Y/N had called not ten minutes later with a lame excuse of her own for not attending. 

With Baby parked in the old barn to keep her safe from the elements, Dean picks the lock on the back door and sighs, remembering their conversations about the home he would build for them. Dropping his duffel just inside the door, he sets the cooler next to it and scrubs a hand down his face. After a quick look around, he heads out to check the perimeter and gather firewood.

Staring out the windshield of her truck, Y/N scans the area for movement. With no harbinger of untoward beings, supernatural or otherwise, she pulls her sketchbook and leather pencil case from her bag and slips out of the cab. The place appears to be a little more rundown since the last time she was here, and she takes a moment to assess the new damage.  

Settling on the truck’s hood, she begins sketching the cabin's exterior, adding a wrap-around porch, a large updated chimney, and landscaping. It’s unconscious at first, but as the graphite scratches over the paper, images taking shape on the blank pages, she soon realizes that she is drawing all the amenities Dean and she had discussed for their dream home.

It’s getting late, but he’s finally finished checking the warding around the property's perimeter. There seemed to be a few more than he remembered. Dean reflects on his decision to come here as he quickly gathers firewood on his way back to the cabin. 

He’d had every intention of going to Jody’s, hoping for a chance to talk, wanting to end the pattern of avoidance, even if that, ultimately, meant moving on without her. He’d prefer to see her safe and happy than to be completely removed from her life.

Yesterday, he’d awoken with an uneasiness churning in his gut and decided to take a drive to settle his nerves. When he unexpectedly found himself at the Kansas-Nebraska state line, he made another decision. As Baby’s engine loudly idled at a crossroads, he quickly texted Sam, then put the car in drive and headed Northwest.

At a stop to get fuel for Baby and himself, he texted Jody that he wouldn’t be able to make it after all and was going to use the lull in cases to check on the safe house in Montana.

A tear smudges the edge of the illustration just completed, a vignette of side-by-side rocking chairs. Swiping the back of her hand across her cheek, she flips the book closed, tucking it beneath her arm, and slides off the hood. The sun is getting low in the sky, and she needs to check the perimeter and collect firewood. Sliding her duffel from the bench seat, she slips the pencil case back inside, pulls a key from her pocket, and carefully makes her way across the decrepit porch to the front door.

Closing the door behind him as he enters the house, Dean stops in his tracks, hearing the creak of wood coming from the front porch. Setting the armful of logs on the floor, he pulls out his gun and quietly makes his way down the two steps to the main living area.

The door handle rattles and his senses go on high alert, but his heart plummets to his stomach when a key is slipped into the lock. He hadn’t considered that someone may have taken over the property after all these years.

The gun wavers in his hand at the sight of the person standing before him when the door swings open. “What the hell?” The purple flannel she stole from him hangs loosely on her frame, billowing in the breeze, the sleeves unevenly rolled, one hiding half of her hand, the other skimming above her wrist.

Hearing the muttered curse, the items she’s carrying hit the floor with a thud, the sketchpad falling open when it skitters to a stop between them as she quickly reaches for her gun.

“Hey, whoa. It’s me.” Dean’s hands are in the air, gun pointed at the ceiling as she stares him down over the barrel of her engraved Remington Rand, a gift from him for her thirtieth birthday.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she shouts. “You’re supposed to be at Jody’s.”

“So are you,” he challenges, brow cocked. He lifts his chin toward the gun still pointed at him, when she doesn’t respond. “Do you mind?” 

The silence stretches between them, each steeling themselves against the onslaught of emotions at seeing the other. When she finally lowers the weapon, re-engaging the safety before tucking it into the back of her jeans, he does the same. She bends to lift her duffel, and he steps forward, picking up the sketchbook. Fingers hovering as they follow the charcoal-colored lines, he grins at the images, “These are-”

“None of your business.”

His fingers narrowly miss being smashed between the pages as the book is roughly snapped shut and pulled from his hand.

She has one foot across the threshold before he can even say sorry. He needs to act quickly. It’s not what he planned, but it’s an opportunity he needs to take advantage of. “Wait. Don’t leave… please.”

The waver in his voice stops her mid-step. The words, reminiscent of her plea to his retreating steps almost a year ago, blindside her.

“You were here first.” She addresses the space in front of her, not daring to look at him for fear of turning into a weeping puddle of goo.

“The sun’s setting. You won’t be able to make it down the mountain before it gets dark.”

Few things genuinely scare her but driving down a narrow, overgrown mountain trail in the dark is high on the short-list. Dean experienced her anxiety firsthand while driving through the Appalachians en route to a hunt.

Though unprepared for the unexpected encounter, she knows it’s a chance for them to talk without prying eyes and ears around. Maybe an opportunity for her to finally come to terms with everything and let him go. Eyes closed, nails digging into her palm around the worn canvas strap, she inhales deeply, slowly expelling the air before turning to face him. “Fine. I’ll leave at first light.”

Making a wide arc around him, she drops her things next to the couch. Noticing the pile of firewood on the floor, she asks, “I’m guessing you’ve checked all the warding?” 

Dean nods, “Yeah, there’s a lot more than-“

Turning her back on him, she shrugs out of the flannel. Flinging it onto the nearest chair, she walks out the back door without another word. Simultaneously relieved and disappointed when he doesn’t try to stop her. Happy to see him but woefully unsure of what to say to him.

Deciding it might be best to give her a few minutes, he begins a search of the kitchen area, which reveals a set of matching dishes, silverware, pans, kitchen towels, and a stock of cleaning supplies. It all appears to be relatively new. A more thorough perusal of the cabin reveals additional changes. Cataloging the modifications, he wonders who was here last and how long ago. 

During his brief initial inspection, he’d noticed that the furniture had been covered against dust but had pushed it down his list as he needed to check the area outside before it became too dark. Dean’s curiosity is thrown into overdrive as he connects the dots with the fact that Y/N has a key. He figured that she knew of the safe house from Bobby but wasn’t aware that she had ever been here.

Dean sets about cleaning the dishware and uncovered surfaces and plugs the refrigerator back in, mulling over this newfound information and what it might mean. He glances out the window while wiping down the last countertop and catches sight of her wrapping her arms around herself. The sky is a watercolor background—a blaze of orange and fading pink, seeping into a twilight purple haze—to her silhouette that brings forth a memory he turns to when the nightmares threaten to overwhelm him.

She shivers against the cold as a gust of wind buffets the thin fabric of her shirt and chastises herself for removing the flannel she’d been wearing. It was a foolish, futile attempt to save face. The shirt is a crutch, a piece of him, something she turns to for comfort. He doesn’t need to know that, though. 

Rubbing her hands over her arms, as another burst of wind swirls around her, she decides to head back inside when she’s unexpectedly surrounded by warmth. It’s still surprising to her how someone so large can move so soundlessly. The plaid draped over her shoulders carries his scent, and emotions threaten to drown her.

Inhaling sharply, her jaw clenches, and her eyes squeeze shut against the tears that immediately spring forth. How many times had he done this for her? A small gesture followed by a kiss to the forehead or a quick embrace. One of his many ways of showing how much he cared about her… loved her—reduced to nothing more than a courtesy as he immediately moves away.

“I’m sorry.” Misinterpreting her reaction, Dean quickly steps back. She had tossed his other flannel aside like it meant nothing, apparently no longer giving her the comfort he knew it once had. Why would she accept this gesture? It hurts, but he understands that the small intimacies they once shared no longer hold the same meaning, but habit had made him act before thinking, the desire to ensure she was comfortable and cared for still ingrained in his psyche. “I couldn’t stand to watch you shiver one more time.”

A moment of stilted silence passes, and then a hesitant, hushed question. “You were watching me?”

“Not as creepily as that sounded,” he chuckles.

“Hmmm.” She gives him a faint smile, “Thanks,” grips the plackets, and then quickly looks away. 

There’s so much he wants to say, but he’s uncertain where to start. Taking it as a good sign that she didn’t throw the shirt back in his face, he presses on. “I saw you through the window.”

No shit, dumbass. Real smooth.

“You, uh, looked so beautiful framed by the sunset. It reminded me of that rest stop in the mountains. After that shit show in Oregon. You remember? You wanted to stretch your legs while Sammy and I sat at the picnic table chillin’ with a couple of brews.”

She remains guarded, and he grows nervous, rubbing his palms over the denim covering his thighs. The urge to turn and walk away is strong, and the thought of how easy it would be to blow this opportunity makes his mouth go dry and his heart thrash against his ribs, so he wills himself to stay put. Letting the memory and the fact that she hasn’t walked away bolster him.

Remember? 

She longs to tell him that she remembers every moment they’ve spent together, that she lets them play out in her head like a movie marathon, that those memories are what sustained her the first few months of missing him, fortified her, and kept her breathing. Yet, she remains silent, not ready to share and wanting to know why he’s dredging up memories that will surely break her heart all over again.

“I, uh…  When the sun started to set, I looked around to find you sitting on an outcropping, that beat-up tin of art supplies you carried everywhere right next to you, sketchbook in your lap, coloring away with those little paint stick thingies-”

She timidly laughs, and his heart swells at the sound. It’s an unexpected glimmer of hope that has his heart thudding for an entirely different reason and the corners of his mouth lifting in response.

Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpses his cautious smile. It warms her, gives her a sense of optimism, and she senses he’s hoping for more. She can hear the nervousness in his voice, spies how he shifts his weight from one leg to the other, and realizes that she needs to engage so he doesn’t close himself off or misinterpret her silence. “Pastels,” she supplies, turning to lean back against the railing, eyes downcast as she slips her arms into the sleeves of the plaid, cuffs hanging well past her fingertips.

“Yes!” Snapping his fingers, his smile grows. “Pastels. Your fingers always looked like a muddy rainbow after using them, and you’d always wind up with a couple of streaks on your face that I’d have to clean off.” 

Just as she thought, the recounting of his memories spurs a surge of grief for the loss of his gentle touch, warm smile, and playful teasing as he would wipe the traces of color from her skin. Shifting on her feet, she closes in on herself. Crossing an arm over her chest, her hand grips tight around her bicep, fingers of her free hand fiddling with the hem of the flannel. 

Dean’s smile fades a little at her reaction, wondering if she’s thinking about those shared moments and dislikes being reminded of them or misses them as much as he does. Hopeful it’s the latter, he clears his throat and continues, “Uhm, anyway… you were sitting on that rock, framed by the glow of the setting sun. Just like now.” He tilts his head and runs a hand over the side of his neck. “It was one of the most beautiful sights I’d ever seen.” He nervously chuckles, “Just like, well… now.” 

Her smile widens as she bobs her head in acknowledgment and peeks at him from the corner of her eye. “Be still my heart. Did you turn this into a chick flick moment, Mr. Winchester?”

Ears tipped pink and hands stuffed into his pockets, Dean rocks back on his heels, twisting his mouth with a grunt. “Phffft. No. But pretty sure you did with that whole,” he waves a hand between them, “be still my heart, Mr. Winchester bullshit.”

His tentative smile is disarming, and a heated flush spreads over her skin. The toe of her boot kicks along the faded deck boards as she haphazardly rolls up the shirt’s sleeves in frustration. She looks out over the side yard and says, “We should probably talk.” It’s hushed, barely over a whisper, and with no immediate response, she wonders if he even heard her, and then in usual form...

A chuckle. “I thought we were.” His attempted joke falls flat. Pulse skittering with fear at the purse of her lips, he quickly tries to recover. “Shit, I’m sorry I-.” Voice strained and hushed, he moves closer, “I’d like that.”

As his hand lightly closes around hers, she flinches in surprise, fingers trembling as he raises it between them, and he inwardly sighs in relief when she doesn’t pull away. Gliding his fingers over her palm, he instructs, “Leave it up.” Teasing, “You never did learn how to do this properly,” as he rolls the right cuff.

“That’s because I liked the way you did it,” she murmurs, eyes glistening and intently fixed on his chest even as he wills her to look up at him.

Her statement confirms what Dean had often wondered, that she enjoyed the connection too, a random little moment of closeness that the two of them shared. To keep her from retreating into herself again, he goes for a neutral topic, “You know, I always thought you could make a living with your art,” as he moves on to the left sleeve.

The gentleness in his grip and tender brush of his fingers startles her, only to be followed by what feels like a settling of her soul, the relief of finally being home after a long journey. Lip trembling, she blinks back tears as he smoothes the fabric in place on the second sleeve, his comment drowned out by her thudding heart and the rush of blood in her ears as she silently pleads, don’t, don’t do it, please don’t do it, knowing that what’s coming will most certainly break her.

The tear that breaks free of the waterline at her lashes and her anguished expression give him pause—momentarily stopping him from completing the task the way he’d always done. It doesn’t feel right not to, though, so he bows his head.

A tender kiss on her wrist—a simple gesture executed in a single heartbeat.

Dean inhales deeply as his lips brush supple skin. She still wears the same perfume he bought her for their first anniversary. She rarely had an opportunity to use it, though. Only being able to wear it on a few occasions—the night he gave it to her, a couple of date nights, a dinner at Jody’s. She could wear it now whenever she wanted without fear of giving away her location to whatever monster they were hunting. It frays his edges a bit more, thinking she’s wearing it for someone else. 

The brush of his supple lips against her skin causes her heart to cease functioning, and the air in her lungs crystallizes as nerve endings flare. She imagines this is what it feels like to be sucked into a void, a split second of complete and utter inertia before her entire being twists and shatters. There’s no holding back the choked sob.

Lips lingering on her pulse, fearful eyes meet hers, and then he steps forward, tugging her arm until she’s secured against his chest, sheltered in his hold.

Hands fisting in the back of his Henley, arms crushing her body against his, her tears dampening the front of his shirt while his seep into her hair. The potent relief of once again being in the familiar embrace of the other forestalls further conversation.

The tears begin to wane, and confusion creeps in. She thought he had moved on, but his actions—the emotion swirling in his eyes, the gravitas behind his words as he recounted the memory, and the way he held her—spoke to something different. Emotions surge and crash, threatening to drown her as they fight for dominance or release. Wanting nothing more than to stay in the safety of his embrace, she resists the urge to cling to him. She releases the grip on his shirt and pushes back against his hold. So much needs to be said, so much guilt that needs to be addressed. A large, stiff drink is what she needs first, though. 

Dean reluctantly drops his arms to his sides when he feels her body shift and tense beneath his hands before she steps back out of his reach, wiping her face with the hem of the plaid. He hadn’t meant to make her cry. Truthfully, he’s a bit confused by her reaction. If she’s let him go and found someone else, is happy, why is she so upset? They need to talk. A hefty shot might help that along a bit.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, he jokes, “I don’t think I’ve ever made a girl cry with a kiss before,” and receives a weak smile in return before an awkward silence falls between them as the sun sinks past the horizon.

“We should-“ They say simultaneously, followed by matching nervous chuckles. He opens the door and gestures for her to enter. Dean remains standing near the door after locking it while she moves to the middle of the room, neither sure what to do nor say, wondering what the display of emotions might portend. Each yearning for the connection once shared, the comfort of the other’s embrace, yet the fear of rejection blinds them to the regret and longing etched into the countenance of the other lovingly staring at them.

She startles when he claps his hands together. “Are you hungry?” he points to the cooler by the back door, “I can make some sandwiches.”

“Yeah. That… sounds good.” She nods, avoiding eye contact. “I, uh, have a cooler of food in the truck if you want to use anything from it. Just give me, uh…,” she gestures to her face, “then I’ll go get it.”

“Take your time. I can get it.” Dean practically sprints out the front door as she makes a beeline to the bathroom, firmly closing the door behind her.

Exiting the bathroom several minutes later, she finds her sleeping bag and spare blanket on the floor next to the fireplace, alongside the blankets from the Impala. 

“Figured you might want to sleep on those instead.” She turns to find Dean eyeing her as he sets two plates of food on the table and discerns that she spent more time in the bathroom shoring up her emotional walls than she thought.  “No tellin’ what might have crawled up into those mattresses after all this time.”

“Thanks,” she replies, walking over to the bunks closest to her, “but I replaced them all a few months ago. Left the plastic on to protect them,” and lifts the tarp to show him.

Dean’s shoulders slump slightly in disappointment, a brow arching in surprise. He’d hoped to have her lying beside him in front of the fireplace, even if it wasn’t how they’d imagined. “Were you staying here?” he asks, confused, his earlier musings coming back to him. “Hey, why do you have a key?”

“Bobby gave me a key after Rufus was k- died.”

Brow furrowed, he tilts his head in question, and she shrugs her reply.

“My lock-picking skills weren’t so great back then.”

“Huh. I never got a key,” he pouts.

Reminded of how expressive his face can be, she swallows the chuckle. The confusion and tinge of jealousy in his tone spur her curiosity about how he’ll react to her next declaration. “When I switched my mailing address to Jody’s, some paperwork finally caught up with me. Apparently, Rufus left it to Bobby, and then Bobby left it to me.” 

“You own the cabin now?”

“Yeah,” she shrugs, still having difficulty believing it herself. Dropping the sheet back onto the mattress, she adds, “And, well, the surrounding forty acres, which include a lake.”

“F- forty acres? And a lake?” Expression highlighted with shock, he chuckles, “Well, damn, who knew Rufus was such a real estate mogul.”

“I know, right? Anyway, I, uh, I was going to mention this place the next time we talked… dreamt about getting out. I thought we could check into buying it. By the time I found out I already owned it, well…” His pained expression of understanding is too much to bear; she tucks her chin and runs her fingers along the bed frame.

“Me too,” he mutters. “I- I mean, I was going to suggest we check into this place. Thought it would be perfect for what we, uh, talked about. Didn’t realize we’d be looking at a mountain retreat.” She shrugs, lips pressed together in a tight smile.

Damn, none of his attempts at humor are hitting right.

She used to always laugh at his jokes, no matter how lame. The air around them becomes thick, almost stifling. Dean takes a step toward her, then stops, watching as she chews at her bottom lip, head bent, fingers nervously dancing over the metal bar. Every molecule of his body screams for him to pull her into his arms and never let her go again. Instead, he asks, “Beer?”

“Yes, thank you.” Seizing the change in subject with welcome relief, she offers him a soft smile. Her steps are controlled, willfully constrained to prevent herself from throwing herself at him, begging him never to leave her again and promising to do the same. Instead, she takes the seat opposite him at the table. 

Several minutes pass as they eat in silence, furtive glances cast between bites of food and sips of alcohol. When she can no longer bear the thick tension weighing on them, she asks, “So what did you tell Jody about why you weren’t going to be there?”

“Told her I was gonna check on the cabin since it had been so long.”

Nearly choking on the bite she just swallowed, the sandwich slips from her fingers, landing half off the plate. “So she knew you were coming here?”

“Yeah, why?”

“When did you tell her?”

Understanding takes a few seconds to sink in, and then he purses his lips. “Early yesterday. I take it you told her you were coming here too?”

“Yep, called her yesterday morning. She already knew one of us was coming here when she talked to the other.”

They share a chuckle over Jody’s sneaky but well-intentioned omission of information before falling silent again.

Shoving the last bit of sandwich into his mouth, Dean stands, plate in hand. “Are you done?” 

Pushing the unfinished half of the grilled ham and cheese she dropped earlier back onto the plate, she nods. 

“You sure? There’s no rush.” His hand hovers next to hers, another inch closer, and he’d be able to feel soft, smooth skin beneath the rough pads of his fingers, watch goosebumps rise on her skin as he skims them over the back of her hand and up her arm.

The heat he emanates warms the air around her. If she turned her hand, just so, she could caress the tender skin of his wrist, trace the vein, feel his pulse. Wondering if it’s as feverish and intense as hers, she pulls her hand into her lap and breathes, “Yeah. I’m done.”

Dean places her plate on top of his and picks up her empty beer bottle. When she tilts her head to smile at him, “Thank you. It was good,” she absently licks her lips, and his breath hitches. Surprised that the neck of the bottle doesn’t snap in his grip, he quickly turns toward the kitchen. Setting the dishes on the counter, he takes a moment to calm his breathing.

He pushed her away for a reason, and that hasn’t changed, but this is his chance to clear the air with her. Maybe, eventually, even become friends again. Fantasizing about kissing her, having her laid out beneath him, her hands roaming his heated flesh, is just that—a fantasy. It would only serve as a quick release followed by more anger and heartache. He can’t do that to her. Honestly, he’s not sure he can do it himself.

Even though he is the one that forced this upon them, he can’t deny the agony he felt when he came back in the pre-dawn to find her gone, that she never reached out to him in the aftermath, or that she hadn’t seemed to care about what was happening in his life. 

He knows how messed up that sounds; what a double standard it is. He lost count of the times his thumb hovered over her name in his contacts, but like now, he had no idea what to say to her, so he’d never called. No matter how much he longs for her to come home, to hold her as he falls asleep and wake to the warmth of her beside him, he knows she deserves better.

She sighs, watching the muscles in his back flex and tense seconds before his shoulders slump as he stares out the window. She knows exactly what he’s doing, what he’s thinking, but if there’s anyone to blame for this limbo they find themselves in, it’s her. There’s only one way to change it, and that is through. They will just have to deal with whatever is on the other side when they get there.

“Whiskey?” she asks with forced cheerfulness. “I brought the good stuff.” 

Dropping his head, Dean laughs, “Your timing is impeccable as always.” Tossing the empty bottles in the garbage, he turns to face her, a large smile plastered on his face. A smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. She accepts the gesture for what it is… a tentative olive branch. “Wanna grab some glasses?” She tips her chin toward the cupboard behind his right shoulder, heading toward her duffel.

The soft clunk of the tumblers being set on the table emphasizes the silence that again surrounds them. Though they didn’t always need words, they’d never had this much trouble talking to each other. She huffs out a breath as she again takes the seat opposite him. “So…  I heard you killed a shifter with that additive the Leviathans created?”

“Yeah, Vamptonite,” he gushes, happy dimples making a rare appearance.

“Let me guess… you named it.”

“Of course,” eyes rolling like he can’t believe she could think otherwise. “It works on werewolves and ghouls too.”

“Good to know,” she hums. 

They fact-check a couple of more stories between them. The single malt Macallan eases tensions and fortifies courage as walls begin to crumble.

“I heard you ran into a Chupacabra?”

She shakes her head, laughing. “Nah, just a rumor. Turned out to be a rabid dog. I stopped hunting after that. Guess you were right. I wasn’t cut out to be a hunter after all.” She didn’t mean to say it. She doesn’t want to start a fight. The words slipped from her lips before she even realized they’d formed. Dean shifts in his seat, and a lowly hissed ‘Shit’ has her scrambling to change the subject, her frazzled brain landing on something far worse, “Heard you were picking up waitresses again,” she attempts to tease. Regret is swift and severe. 

 “Son of a bitch.”

This time the expletive is harshly ground out between clenched teeth, and his hard, fixed features send her heart plummeting with the thought it must be true if he’s so angry about her knowing. Biting into her lip, she struggles not to tell him she takes it back, that she doesn’t care, doesn’t need to know.

“You know that’s a rumor, right?” He knows his tone is clipped, anger seeping into the fear around the silent plea for her not to believe what she’s heard. 

Hand shaking as she pours him a healthy shot, the neck of the bottle clinks against the glass. “Is it?” Again, remorse is swift. 

What happened to not needing to know?

Hearing the quiver of her voice, the uncertainty in those two simple words, he berates himself for not setting the record straight before it got back to her. It infuriates him to think about the twisted embellishments that were most likely added, another regret steamrolling over his chest at imagining how she must have felt hearing the gossip. 

Concerned that the tumbler he’s holding might shatter in his grasp, he loosens his hold and gently but deliberately pushes it to the side. Flexing his fingers, he leans forward, frustration setting in when she leans back, muscles tensing at his movement. “It is,” he huffs, trying to keep his voice steady. “I wouldn’t, couldn’t, do that.”

He scrutinizes her face, silently willing her to look at him, but her eyes remain focused on the drink she’s pouring for herself, filling the glass nearly to the brim. He watches in awe when she lifts it to her lips and swallows every drop in one go with not even a flinch before setting the cut crystal back on the table. Her thumb swipes the corner of her mouth to catch a wayward drop. Licking it clean, she declares, “I couldn’t blame you if you did.” 

Exasperation and outrage at her words quickly suppress the desire that swirls in his gut over the sexiness of the gesture. How can she possibly believe he would replace her so easily in his life, his bed? The realization that she doesn’t have any proof to the contrary hits like a gut punch. They’ve known each other for a long time. She knows his weaknesses and saw how he dealt with the tragedies and craziness of his life before her. Well… how he hid behind the vices of booze and sometimes women.

Man, this is fucked up.

The part of him that protects the tiny scrap of hope he keeps buried deep thought that even though he’d shunned her, she at least understood why he’d done it. 

Frustration swiftly turns to fear at the implication behind her words. Eyes narrowed, he scrutinizes her features. She’s gauging his reactions, either building her defenses back up to lessen her pain or testing the waters because there’s something she’s afraid to tell him—like maybe she has moved on. Maybe the teary-eyed outbursts are a final goodbye to the life they had, the loss of the dreams once shared.

That’s what he wanted. He’d pushed her out of his life so she could have one. So why does it feel like his heart has just been ripped from his chest by a wolf? The urge to grab her, hold her against him, lay his soul bare, and share his vulnerability with her again, is tempered only by the need to know where her feelings lie. So, even though he’s terrified of her response, he remarks, “I heard you moved in with some douche named Coop.”

A laugh bubbles at his play on words but is quickly quashed. “His name is Cooper,” she guardedly replies. Hurt still encases hope, but she’s eager to finally be able to tell him—the only person she ever wanted to share it with—what’s been happening in her life. “You should see the place. It’s huge. Oh, and the pay is phenomenal.” Pulling her phone from her pocket, she misses his change in expression.

“Wh- What?”

“He even introduced me to some of his friends.” Rising excitement as she searches for the pictures she wants to show him obscures the edge in his tone. “The places I’ve been to, the things I’ve gotten to do… amazing, but so ridiculously over the top. You would have loved the working horse ranch. Straight out of the wild west.”

She spares him a quick smile before going back to scrolling. “And don’t even get me started on the bar and restaurant VIP perks. We could eat for an entire month on what they spend in a night. I had to get used to the fancy clothes. It’s been years since I’ve worn a cocktail dress and heels. I never thought I could get paid for something I love doing. Well, I knew I could get paid for doing it. Although, I never thought I could garner such high fees or that my services would be in such demand. Ah, here we go.”

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?” The words explode from him, filling the entire cabin with his rage.

Inhaling a sharp breath, she slowly raises her head. The tense stillness, cold, set features and harsh tone evoke the night her heart went up in flames, and the gleam of elation and hope are reduced to cinder. “W-what?”

Anger writhes in his gut, slithering through vein and muscle, coiling around bone. She can’t be doing what he thinks she’s doing. Can she? Shit, this is his fault. He shut her out, left her on her own, and made her feel worthless. 

Confusion is evident in her features as she cuts off his spiraling thoughts. “Wait. What do you think I’m doing?” 

He can’t bring himself to actually say the words, so he glares at her, brow rising and face contorted in a ‘you know exactly what I’m thinking’ expression. 

Narrowing her eyes, she rapidly tries to decipher their conversation, and shock ripples through her as he raps his knuckles on the table, solidifying her comprehension. “No, th-” 

Guilt and the need to alleviate his concerns momentarily rise, but his implied accusation fans the smoldering embers of the pain and grief she thought had been snuffed out. Flames of anger spark and flicker, igniting the ashes of her heart, blindly driving her to dig at his vulnerability. 

“For whatever they request,” she calmly replies, raising a brow of her own.

Dean’s eyes narrow, his top lip twitching with rage. She knows nothing good will come of it, but the damned up emotions break through the levee. 

“I don’t want for anything—private beaches, yachts, spa treatments, luxury suites. No more crappy diner food,” she flicks a hand toward the bottle between them, “or rot-gut alcohol. No more slumming in shitty motel rooms.” Though the words belie her true feelings, she’s no longer in control of how they spill out of her and derides, “or living out of a car,” pulse rate jumping with the intake of his breath.

Never once did he imagine his actions would lead to this outcome. Guilt, shame, and fury slither and twist to skewer his heart and snarl in his brain. It’s his fault, he doesn’t blame her, but he’s angry with her. Angry at himself, the world, and the life he’s stuck in. The thought of her with another guy was one thing, but this… He sees red at the thought of how many… 

Wood cracks beneath the slam of his fist, and a glass shatters against a wooden cabinet after being viciously swiped from the table. “Well, it sounds like I did you a favor by kicking you out. Gave you a chance to make yourself a happy little life. Livin’ high on the hog without a care in the world.” 

The clench of his jaw and the sadness in his eyes fleetingly register, but her rage is blistering, ablaze beneath her skin. Slamming her fists on the table, she sneers. “You know, for someone so smart, you can be an utter dumbass sometimes.” Dean blinks at her, confusion knocking his anger back a bit. “FUCK YOU!” she shouts, knocking her chair over as she stands. His confusion morphs into offense, mouth agape in shock. She would have laughed, under different circumstances, but there’s no solid ground where her feelings can safely land. Before he can formulate any words, she unleashes the teeming tsunami of emotions she’s floundering in.

“You think you did me a favor? That I didn’t struggle? That there was no PAIN? You didn’t GIVE me ANYTHING! YOU TOOK FROM ME!” Chest heaving, nails digging into her palms, she huffs out a breath, a wasted attempt to try and rein in some of the more volatile feelings. 

“How did you picture everything going? You didn’t think about the aftermath, did you? DID YOU?” she accuses. “Your only thought was that I would be better off without you. That somehow I would be happier… safer… no longer have a target on my back. What you failed to realize is that none of those things could ever possibly happen. We made promises to each other, you and I. We promised to trust, love one another unconditionally, and keep each other safe. To always have each other’s back.”

She paces, no longer able to keep her vibrating limbs still. “Do you honestly think I was safer without you around? I didn’t feel safer when Crowley showed up with Juliette in tow at the summer camp where I was teaching a drawing class. Not when those yahoos, Walt and Roy, initially mistook me for the shifter I discovered on that ranch in Colorado. And certainly not when I had to take out a wraith on my own in Chicago because no one could get there soon enough to help. YOU DIDN’T HAVE MY BACK FOR ANY OF THAT!” 

Lips flinching like a fish out of water, he blinks, dumbstruck. There are no words to describe how badly he’s fucked things up. He rubs his hands over his thighs before clenching them into fists as his focus briefly drifts to Walt and Roy. He should have beaten the shit out of both of them when he had the chance. They won’t get off so easy the next time he sees them.

The heavy scrape of wood on wood draws his attention back to her as she rights the chair. Struggling to comprehend how quickly they went from the tentative but encouraging inroads they were making to… this, he closes his eyes, sharply inhaling as she continues.

“Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but I’m not doing what you think I am.” Tears form in her eyes as she stares him down and quietly states, “And I certainly wasn’t happier without you.”

No amount of torture would ever match the pain he currently feels. All he’d wanted was for her to have what he couldn’t give her. Instead, he released her into a world of danger and uncertainty, offered her up on a silver platter to any supernatural being gunning for him. If she had been injured… or worse… The blame would lie entirely on his shoulders. Standing, he quickly slips around the table, “Y/N, I-” faltering when he reaches for her, and she steps back.

“No.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “I don’t want an apology. I don’t want to hear your reasons why. I know what they are. I excused the pain caused, tempering it with that knowledge and my own guilt. And here we are!” 

With a shaky breath, she states. “Get out.”

Dean scrubs a hand down his face, unsure what to do. He’s screwed up royally. If he leaves, he might not get another chance to fix it, and that scares him. He holds out his hand one more time, “I don’t-” and she roughly slaps it away.

“You don’t even see it. You’re so blinded by all the crap you carry around. The labels and responsibilities that were forced upon you. You sacrificed your life and continue to do so every day but refuse to acknowledge that others would do the same for you. They love you. I love you. Every one of us would sacrifice for you because your life matters too, but you can’t accept that. THE Dean Winchester doesn’t need anyone because ‘Everyone’s going to die or leave me.’ So, you push people away. You pushed me away.” 

Anger incites the words, though pain­—heartache—is the driving force. “Yeah, and you left.”

“I didn’t want to leave! I didn’t want a life without you in it! I still don’t,” she throws her hands up in frustration. Panting, she stares at the ceiling, hands on her hips, rocking on her feet. 

As with the night that laid the foundation of all their suffering, she doesn’t want to fight with him. Lashing out serves no purpose. Unlike that night, she can’t ignore the sadness and frustration, the resentment and regret that have built like a steam train picking up speed initiated by his actions. She simply wants to make the stubborn jackass understand why it has culminated in… this. 

“You did this to us.” Voice quivering, she wraps her arms around her waist to hide the shaking in her hands. “Get out of my house.” There’s a finality to the words that surprises both of them. 

She doesn’t want him to leave, not really, but she can’t think straight. Mind, heart, and soul are all cleaved cleanly in two. Warring, yet scrambling to stitch themselves back together. Despising the desire to feel the comfort of his arms, yet craving his touch… his warmth… his love. She needs a moment. Just a moment. 

“NOW!”

“I am sorry,” he whispers, turning to leave. 

His feet drag across the floor, hoping she’ll call after him to stay. The epiphany that this is how she must have felt when he destroyed everything good they had together rolls over him like a freight train of devastation. The jagged edges of his heart beg to be mended, smoothed over, and sealed together. 

Had he learned nothing over the years? When had keeping those he cared most about at arm’s length ever worked out? Hadn’t it only ever made him miserable and left them vulnerable and sometimes on the verge of death? What made him think this time would be any different? How did he convince himself that his actions would have no negative consequences for her? Why hadn’t he stopped himself when he knew it was wrong? 

Knowing the answers is no consolation. As much as he tries to control it, the anger is always simmering, so ready to punch through, eager to take control and keep the suffering masked, making it easier to let go than try and hold on. He hates himself for giving in to that compulsion. He deserves this, not her forgiveness or love, but her ire.  

Despite the bitterness of loss, there is a palpable sense of happiness. She survived. She’s free from hunting and living a good life, even if it’s not in the way he imagined. 

But why the hell hadn’t anyone told him what she was doing or about the danger she’d been in? 

Thoughts conflicted, a violent collision of anguish and acceptance, he tries to process it all. He needs time. Just a bit of time.

The front door clicks shut.

Part Four

Love Me Some Pie

@123passwort // @akshi8278 // @asgoodasdancingqueen // @calaofnoldor // @compresshischest09 // @deans-baby-momma // @deaneverafter // @deans-spinster-witch // @deanwanddamons // @flamencodiva // @globetrotter28 // @iamsapphine // @idreamofplaid // @jerkbitchidjitassbutt // @justagirlinafandomworld // @justrealizedimmascifygurl // @ladysparkles78 // @lyarr24 // @michellethetvaddict // @mimaria420 // @mrswhozeewhatsis // @mvdeanw // @princessmisery666 // @shawnie74 // @thinkinghardhardlythinking // @thoughts-and-funnies // @waynes-multiverse // @wayward-and-worn // @waywardbaby // @weepingwillowphoenix

[mary-queen-of-longbeach]

Behold, the true monarch of the ocean: RMS Queen Mary! She may well be the world’s most beloved ocean liner barring, of course, Titanic; her existence has touched lives the world over and she continues to be a cultural staple today. She’s high up on my list of favorite ships, and as such I decided to draw her not as a gijinka, not in her current hotel-slash-attraction form, but as the record-breaking liner she was built to be. Here she is, thundering across the waves, racing the sky itself as she sets a new speed record for Britain and Cunard.

And, of course, here are the notes:

I started this drawing more than a year and a half ago, in the spring of my first year at college. For context, as of posting this it’s the fall semester of my third year, so quite a bit of time has passed. The piece was stalled for so long because coloring the hull was so daunting - I didn’t want to mess anything up, and I knew it would require a lot of graphite!

Originally, this was going to be a fully inked and colored piece. However, the way I shaded the hawsepipe and the top of the funnel just looked too nice to erase or color over, so I switched to making it a pencil-only piece instead.

Despite how realistic I made the drawing, there are some elements that are missing or otherwise incorrect. The horizonal poles (which I believe are cargo booms) attached to the foremast are absent; you should be able to see one of them from this angle, but I left it out because, when I first started the drawing, I wanted to simplify things slightly. I ultimately changed my mind, but by then it was too late in the process to add that in. That’s also the case with the simplified instruments on top of the bridge.

The rigging is simplified, but I tried to be accurate with the stuff I did add.

I made the smoke and water look like that by coloring them in normally and then smudging the pencil with my fingers. Then I added darker areas in the smoke for shading, and finally I used an eraser to make the lighter parts in both the smoke and water. Realistically, Queen Mary wouldn’t have actually produced such a dramatic smoke plume, as she was an oil-fired ship rather than a coal-fired one, but the bigger cloud looked cooler and more dynamic. Also, the smoke should be blowing backward, but it isn’t for similar artistic-license reasons; this, at least, can be explained by saying she must be sailing in some pretty strong wind!

I was originally planning to smudge the hull too in order to smooth out the coloring, but I changed my mind.

I based the drawing on this photograph!

[arunneronthird]

different anon, but wow, color theory is awesome. I always wanted to learn more about it but I always got so confused (which is why I mainly just draw with a graphite pencil on paper with no color involved), but I'm getting off track. I was just wondering if there was a certain strategy to getting colors to look like other colors (the yellow and blue looking like green), or is it just a bunch of guess and check?

welp i havent studied art so this is complete trial and error on my part and i dont really know art terms, but i can try and explain how i see things in a v basic way

i see it as pulling from one side of the wheel, and since i like red and blue, i pull from the left/down corner

therefore, green will either go counterclock-wise if its closer to yellow, like military green, and become yellow or even orange, and it will go clock-wise if its a forest green and become blue, following this, yellows will border on orange for me

important, when moving colors, ive noticed i have to desaturate them a lot for the eye to read them as the color i want to reflect

so imagine i want to draw a robin, and i want him to wear a bluish kind of green cause the strong green they wear pains me, that green will become a desaturated blue:

if i want to draw a lime kind of green (for some reason cause i do not like lime green) it will become desaturated yellow or orange:

when i want a warmer drawing, i tend to move blues clock-wise and greens counterclock-wise, when i want a cooler drawing, greens move clock-wise and blues stay as is

this method can be improved upon cause im no expert, but u can experiment by pulling from a different side of the wheel and not being part of the green hating club

[dyrewrites]

Before Deluca -- Memories in Blue pt.2

Yet when I reached him, all I could do was watch from beside the bed—careful not to touch the mattress, not to wake him—and think too loudly of how desperately I wanted to capture that face. Peaceful though he wasn’t—even while sleeping, as far as I’d noticed—there was something close to a smile on his lips. Something like serenity in those honeyed brows. And his curls, still loose, still wild, draped perfectly to frame him...

Without opening his eyes, Lucient heard my want, caught me staring and that smooth, rich voice sang, unaffected by sleep, “Your tools are in that box in the corner, treasure, sketch whatever you like…quietly if you could.”

“My tools,” I asked, glancing around the room, “How do you have—”

He sighed, shuffling beneath the sheets, “The same way I do your clothing and spare shoes, there are even a few of your works in the box,” opening a single eye he added, “those worth saving,” before snuggling deeper into the blanket, “now chut. I am exhausted and this face is no accident.”

I scoffed, “You need your beauty sleep?”

“Chut,” he shot back, keeping those cool eyes closed.

So, leaving the beauty to his sleep, I searched for the box he indicated. And it blended so well with the wall I wondered if it were on purpose.

“Wonder quieter, treasure,”Lucient called from the bed.

Chuckling, I tried to keep my thoughts quiet and dug into what were certainly my things. In that box were hunks of graphite in various sizes, as well as my holder, my pens and ink, even a sheaf of paper. All arranged neatly in a case too nice to be mine.

My Mistress', Lucient whispered into my thoughts, and you're still too loud.

Ignoring him, I sought the works he mentioned and there were no few, he had all the sketches I'd hidden in my closet. Not many, to be honest, most I had destroyed to keep my mother from learning how often I drew dockworkers. But he had saved all the rest, including my quick and messy figures, my thumbnails for planned landscapes, and various studies of faces and hands.

Careful not to wonder too loudly, not to ask, I brought the tool case back to the bed and got as comfortable as I could without disturbing his position.

With his curls yet framing the curves and angles of that beautiful face it wasn't difficult to decide where to begin. But the expression, well, he often appeared pained in sleep and right then it was mixed with annoyance of my interruptions. I would have to fix that which would, of course, ruin my chance to sketch him that day.

Moving my case to the foot of the bed, I abandoned my plans and crawled to him, kissing his forehead, “Pardon, mon rêve, I will allow you to rest.”

He grabbed me as I tried, opening those eyes to glare, though he smiled with it, “you speak my tongue so sweetly and expect to leave?”

Laughing, I covered him in more kisses, pulling the covers up to snuggle next to him, “I can stay, if you prefer.”

He kissed my neck as he spoke, voice adopting a cooing tone, “I demand.”

But as his hands grabbed for my back I grabbed his face, “None of that now.”

Closing his eyes, swooning with the heat of me, he pouted at my words and rolled over, “Then keep that deliciously warm skin away from my hands.”

“Or,” wrapping my arms around his, I made sure to grab his hands in mine, pinning them to his chest, “I keep mine closer.”

He wriggled tighter against me, sighing, “Mm, yes that will do.”

While not tired, the cool of him against me, the cooler warmth of the sheets and the mixed peculiarity—horror, terror, gnawing dread—I wasn't prepared to face did wear on me. So we slept, quiet, cuddled close and wonderfully entwined. And though I couldn't see it, with him so tight against my chest, as he relaxed in my arms I imagined he was smiling.

[hazelminesims]

Hi! Your game is just stunning. I am looking to upgrade my Sims set-up, curious if you would mind sharing what computer you use for gaming?

Heyy...thank you so much!!

I built my pc with my hubby. I chose all the parts/software and he put everything together. I have 2 SSDs - one for Windows + Photoshop and the other is for Sims 4 and other games I play. There have been some upgrades since I built it in 2016. I started off with a 980 TI video card, 32GB ram, and 1 SSD + 1 HDD.

CPU: Intel Core i9-12900K 3.2 GHz 16-Core Processor

CPU Cooler: Noctua NH-U12S 55 CFM CPU Cooler

Motherboard: Asus ROG STRIX Z690-E GAMING WIFI ATX LGA1700 Motherboard

Memory (RAM): 64GB - (2) G.Skill Trident Z5 RGB 32 GB DDR5-6000 CL36 Memory

Storage: Western Digital WD_BLACK 2 TB 3.5" 7200 RPM Internal Hard Drive

Storage: (2) Samsung 860 Evo 1 TB 2.5" Solid State Drive

Video Card: EVGA XC3 ULTRA GAMING GeForce RTX 3090 24 GB Video Card

Case: Corsair Graphite Series 760T ATX Full Tower Case

Power Supply: EVGA SuperNOVA 1000 G3 1000 W 80+ Gold Certified Fully Modular ATX Power Supply

Operating System: Microsoft Windows 10 Home OEM - DVD 64-bit

Monitor: Asus PG279Q ROG Swift 27.0" 2560 x 1440 165 Hz

[non-bionical-mecha-dude]

pls write a 2012 tmnt x artist reader who likes drawing them little things and self portraits. maybe even paintings or anything else!! thank you so much ur so cool

Aww, you're cooler!! Ask and you shall receive!! I apologize if you've requested something but I haven't replied yet, I've been having a lot of problems with my mental health, but I hope to get back on track, and maybe even write some stuff from the TMNT Bayverse movies (I'm obsessed with them right now)

2012 TMNT X ARTISTIC READER

💙🐢Leo🐢💙

Definitely taken a back

But very impressed

He couldn't even draw a stick figure, but he finds it so cool you can draw

Has definitely asked you to draw the captain from space heros before

Sometimes when he gets in his funny heroic poses, you like to do quick sketches of him

Definitely saw you one time, and stayed still just so you could draw him

Definitely a dork

When you drew him one time, you swear you could see stars in his eyes

He thought he looked so cool as a drawing

Definitely felt a confidence boost after that.

You've definitely used him to draw fighting poses

If you ever paint, he word remind you to put newspaper or something down so you don't get the dojo messy

He knows you'll be careful, but you never know what might happen.

You painted a beautiful Sakura tree in traditional Japanese style (which was really hard when you just have acrylic paints and not the special paint specifically made for that kind of painting.) With a light blue sky behind it.

When he walked in to check on you, he thought it was so amazing.

He had never seen an actual cherry blossom in real life, so, this shocked him (before S2)

He loved how you drew the petals, how the pink flushed against the shades of magenta and red.

He loved the simple branches

He felt as though he was in Japan just by looking at it.

He loved it so much, he showed it to Master Splinter, who was also impressed

Leo loved it so much, that he asked to keep it

He hung the painting on his wall, to stare at whenever he felt down

You both definitely have days where he'll chill on the couch watching Space Heros, and you'll be next to him, drawing whatever came to mind, wether it be a still life, figure posing, cartoons, facial expressions, or just practice drawing in general

He enjoys the quiet times together with you

❤️🐢Raph🐢❤️

Doesn't admit he likes it

Constantly says how art is dumb, but secretly, he loves your art work

You tried to convince him, saying how art can help get rid of negative emotions, and he called it stupid

But secretly, whenever he got super mad one day, he draw scribbles and circles, and harsh marks on the blank page, and even though the art wasn't all that great, he did feel a bit better after wards

You definitely caught him doing it when he went in his room mad, but came out a bit calmer and graphite smudges on the side of his hand and fingers

If you ever draw a portrait of him, he will say how you didn't capture his coolness right, but in all honesty, he thinks he looks so much cooler as a drawing, and stares at the drawing for an ego boost

Sometimes when he practices, you draw poses he does and his fighting stances, he rolls his eyes when you do this, but secretly, he enjoys it

Definitely asked you to draw Spike one day, so that he can keep a small photo with him when he goes on missions

But he'd never tell you that, he would just say that Spike would like it, and then say how it went missing from Spike's tank one day, but, he actually has it tucked away in his shell

When he walked in on you painting, he expected you to be drawing something dumb, but he actually was kinda shocked at what you painted.

A red sunrise over the black buildings of New York.

Sure, it wasn't anything major, the buildings were made with black sharpie and a ruler, and the red was just in the background going from red to a gradient yellow on the horizon, but he loved the simplicity of it

It wasn't anything to big or to small

It wasn't anything to complicated or to simple

And it was a picture he could understand the beauty of it.

Definitely complimented the painting, which left everyone's jaw on the floor since Raph would rather be caught dead than to compliment something

But, he just felt like he needed you to know he actually, genuinely, thought it was good.

💜🐢Donnie🐢💜

Very impressed.

Brags to the others that his S/O is so artistic

Melts at any drawing you may give him

Keeps all your little drawings on a cork board in his lab

He finds it cool when you draw people since he can only draw machines or blueprints

If you ever draw him doing a pose as a reference, he will stop until you're done, and then beg you to see the finished product

He thinks everything you make is beautiful

If you ever make a portrait of him, he will be so confused

He doesn't believe he looks as good as you made him look, and says stuff like "I don't look nearly as cool as that!" Or "Woah, I look alot cooler as a drawing!"

Poor baby

You definitely have to show him how cool he looks another time

Will lay his head on your shoulder while you're drawing

Very clingy

If you ever get frustrated with a drawing, he'll help you take a small break, so that you can relax, and have a better outlook on the drawing so that you can fix it later

He doesn't like to see you stressed

One time, when he's going over blue prints and ideas, he sees you painting something on a canvas on the floor

When he's done, he looks over to see what it is, and he literally gasps outloud.

It's a monochromatic purple painting of a calm library (monochromatic means it's one color, but with lighter or darker shades of that one color for those who don't know)

The painting shows dark purple bookshelves stacked way up high, and a lone lighter desk, with a lamp shining on an open book.

He thought the painting was gorgeous, considering he's never been to an actual library, that painting makes him want to go to one

Is gushing over it all day

Showing it off to his brothers

And even his father

Keeps the painting in his lab, right next to the cork board, so that anytime he may be stressed or frustrated, he can look at your art work, and feel at peace again

🧡🐢Mikey🐢🧡

Definitely a bit of a graffiti artist himself

Understands alot of art terminology oddly enough

You both give each other tips and compliments on each other's drawings

He draws more cartoons and stuff

If you ever draw something realistic, he'll say how he thought it was the real thing on a piece of paper

If you don't have a flat surface to draw on, say no more, because he'll flop on top of your legs, so you can lay the paper on his shell while you draw, so it's a win win, he technically gets to cuddle up in your lap, and you get a flat surface to draw on

If you ever draw him when he's in a wacky pose, he'll notice and do more wakier poses, to throw you off, until he does something that's super flexible like, and you give up trying, which he giggles at

Has definitely tried to get you into graffiti

But it's a lot harder than you thought it would be, your fingers got tired often, and so would your arms from holding them up above your head, the the paint seemed to be either to pigmented, or not pigmented enough, and sometimes, the paint would drip, or dry weird, so, you'd definitely leave graffiti to Mikey

One day, while he's goofing of, you decided to draw a still life of ice cream kitty

It was definitely more difficult than you thought, you had to constantly put him back in the freezer, and sometimes he'd get hungry and need an ice cream snack, and sometimes you couldn't get the colors right, but after some long long hours, you were finally able to paint the still life

Mikey had eventually came over to see why you kept staying in the kitchen and hanging with ice cream kitty. But when he saw it, he said "woooooahhhh" out loud

It was just a painting of ice cream kitty, shading and highlights and everything, you had even put a orange background behind him, so the canvas wouldn't look to blank.

He is freaking out, he's bouncing around the walls, saying how cool it was, asking a million questions per second, showing ice cream kitty even tho he's already seen it, and it just super hyper about it.

Is hugging you and spinning you around because of how much he loves it.

Definitely hangs it up in his room, so he can keep it forever.

Art buddies

[jyou-no-sonoko19]

Hey. I love your art and the style, I admire them very much.

I'm still a newbie in art. when I saw your artwork first things got me was the strong lines and volume and made me to think how can I add more volume to mine to look less flat? all my works look very flat, and the lines lacks any energy, so any tip that can help me would be great!

Hi, thanks very much! It's such a treat when someone says they enjoy my style!

As to my lines, the main thing to note is that they're traditional, either graphite or ballpoint ink, which I then scan in to colour. And beyond that, my number one rule is to Stay Loose when you're first sketching. So don't sit with your nib locked in place, but rather draw with as much of your arm as you can (this is why it helps drawing on an A4 piece of paper on a desk, so I'm not confined by a screen). Let the lines overlap each other where they need to be darker, if you want to emphasise a certain region's contour, add some more lines!

Here's a lil zoom on my most recent portrait that shows off the method:

All the scritchy-scratchy lines provide a loose 'context' for the shapes, but then extra lines come in to reinforce the truly important contouring and convince the eye of the whole thing.

As to the "volume", I'm guessing you mean how I show depth by shading? Once again I always try to stay loosey-goosey, and really not focus too much on where strokes end up until the very end. To encourage this behaviour, I use a fairly large brush head (basic hard, round brush in PS) at varying opacity, and treat it like real paint, just approaching each thing I'm focussing on (like lips for example) with various angles of stroke until the core of it feels deep.

Make a colour palette as soon as you start the art! This will decide what overall tone your art has, as well as giving you easy access to colour picking as you paint, just like a physical artist's palette. I give it its own layer at the very top (so that it's not affected by any other layers). First, choose your middle colour, then darken one part of it like 50%, pale one part by the same, and if you want to, make even darker and paler portions. Then duplicate the palette and invert the colours. This will give you a set of secondary colours (either warmer or cooler) that will automatically fit in with your main colours -- Hacks!! You can use these colours to add depth and mood to your piece, by shading with them rather than the primary palette.

All that said, my shading process works like this:

(2.1 - I often add blush to a face at this point, as that ends up with a less even, more human feeling to the skin. )

1- base level: This is the colour of the area, the one you'd either pick with a colour picker, or what you'd try to eyeball as someone's middle-most skin-tone.

2- gradient: This layer is optional, but if I'm trying to get a realistic depth rather than more cartoony, I'll do this layer. It subtly follows the shape of the object, and probably won't be very visible until it's layered by the next shading level. Set this layer to multiply.

( 3.2 - make-up!! As a treat, it really gives me something fun to do early on.)

3- first shadows: Here is where I start defining the details, first with a brush that might seem way too big for the space -- but it's set to low opacity, so you don't have to worry! This is working from biggest brush to smallest, as you get closer and closer to the focal point of each stroke. This layer can be set to a basic multiply too, but if I'm going for something more dramatic, I'll use linear burn.

4- secondary shadow: This layer is where you gotta be a bit brave! When one is shading, it's easy to be too subtle, to make something look realistic. But then at the end, you find it's so subtle that it can look flat! Focus on the deepest folds in the image, including where areas are draped over (like the back of the neck, where hair is most solid).

5 - primary highlights: Here's where things feel properly Shaped for me! Where the skin is tightest across the flesh (so over bones or cartilage), we can throw some bouncy light to bring it to life! Don't worry about going overboard here, just use the Screen or Linear Light setting while painting, so you can see clearly what you're doing, then change it to a more fitting blend mode later if you need to.

One option is to choose a unifying colour, add it as its own layer, then toy with the layer setting (multiply/overlay/hard light etc) and its opacity, to get a feeling you like. Don't stop there tho! It might make things a bit flattened. So then you want to go into the Levels or contrast settings, and bring back some of those lighting curves!

6 - secondary highlights/ eyelights: This is for any surfaces that are especially shiny, or are getting secondary lighting from something around them. With this art that wasn't the case -- I had intended to do some sunlight hitting her from ahead, but then forgot lol

(And yes my eyelights were on all the screenshots already, sorry, I do them first so my art isn't staring all creepy at me)

7 - unifying and balancing (optional): Say you've done a great job with your palette and everything looks balanced, but you *still* feel like it could hang together better, or you just want to make sure. I generally make a ton of versions of my pieces, so I'll use a combination of methods as I play.

In the case of this piece, I added a peachy tone set to Overlay mode at 10% opacity, to soften everything (subtle, but it's there!).

As well as adding tint layers, you should also go into the Colour Balancer menu, to give yourself a more accurate sense of whether you're going overboard with your warm or cool tones in the high, low or mids. Often even if I think things are really well balanced, I can end up looking at that menu and realising that my shadows are WAY too red, and dialling it back can give a more natural tone. Staring at a piece for hours and hours can make it really hard to tell without this tool.

Using the colour balance menu, I came up with this very satisfying version:

I hope that was helpful, and that you'll link me to any thing you'd like me to check out in specific. (^_^)b

[suvcarslover]

Top 10 Features That Make the Kia Seltos X Line Stand Out

When it comes to SUVs, buyers today want more than rugged capability and utility. They seek standout style, premium features, and an experience that indulges the senses. Understanding this evolving demand, Kia India has introduced the Seltos X Line, which takes this compact SUV to the next level.

It combines the practicality of the Seltos with an extra dose of finesse and sophistication. So, if you're looking for an compact SUV that conquers the terrain and makes a bold statement, read on to understand the ten features that make the Kia Seltos X Line stand apart on the road.

Here are these extraordinary Kia Seltos features:

A Bold Exterior Presence The Kia Seltos X Line features a Matte Graphite Radiator Grille upfront with a Knurled Glossy Black Surround that gives this SUV a bold and modern look. The intricate knurled pattern on the black surround adds textural depth and sophistication. This premium grille sets the tone for the Seltos X Line variant right from the front.

Enhanced All-Round Visibility The 360-degree camera paired with Blind View Monitor drives awareness to the next level in the Seltos X Line. The four wide-angle cameras provide a bird's eye view of the SUV on the infotainment screen. This helps immensely while parking in tight spots. Further, the Blind View Monitor keeps you alerted to vehicles in your blind spots when changing highway lanes. These technologies provide you with exceptional visibility of your surroundings for confident driving.

Indulgent Interiors The Seltos X Line welcomes you with plush Sage Green Leatherette Seats featuring an intricate Chevron stitching pattern . The dual-tone black and green interior trim looks upscale, while the padded Kia Seltos leather seats offer superior comfort over long journeys. The contrast stitching adds visual depth and textural richness.

Driver-Focused Display The Smart 8-inch Head-up Display is thoughtfully positioned to minimize distraction. It projects essential graphics like speed, navigation prompts, and driver assist warnings right in your line of sight on the windshield glass. This lets you check key data without moving your head away from the road. Overall, it makes driving less taxing while keeping you informed.

Rugged Style Accents True to its SUV roots, the Kia Seltos X Line features sturdy, Glossy Black Skid Plates on both the front and rear bumpers. Strategically wrapped under, these metallic inserts safeguard the lower body from rough terrain. At the same time, the high-gloss black finish elevates the design. The Seltos X Line portrays rugged capability through premium styling.

Panoramic Views Throughout The Dual-Pane Panoramic Sunroof gives the Seltos cabin an airy, expansive feel while allowing all passengers to enjoy views of cloud formations and trees overhead. The single piece curved front glass section tilts open to let fresh air in. While the fixed rear glass ensures abundant ambient light even for rear seat occupants. Whether stargazing on a highway trip or simply winding down on the way back home, the panoramic sunroof makes every drive more relaxing.

Sporty Exterior Profile The Kia Seltos X Line dials up the style quotient through Glossy Black ORVMs (Outside Rear-View Mirrors) and Matte Graphite Door Handles . Viewed from the side, they nearly disappear into the window line, giving the sensation of levitating mirrors. Coming around the back, the metallic graphite door handles feel cooler to the touch while adding premium tactility. Their colour neatly matches other elements like the iconic tiger nose grille.

Ergonomic Control Center The D-Cut Steering Wheel is a standout feature in the Seltos X Line’s ergonomic cabin layout. However, the Seltos logo and intricate orange stitching also capture attention. The contrast stitching injects artisan richness and allows customization through the drive mode selector. The D-cut steering wheel lets you rule the road in style.

BOSE Premium Sound System The Kia Seltos X Line lets you enjoy sublime audio quality on the move via its segment-leading BOSE Premium Sound System . BOSE engineers exclusively fine-tuned this audio setup to deliver the signature lifelike, thrilling sound for which the brand is renowned. At its heart are eight custom-engineered speakers strategically placed around the cabin.

This bespoke speaker system uses the Seltos' inherent chassis rigidity to create an immersive acoustic stage. Whether you’re listening to your favourite singer's soaring vocals or an EDM track's intense beats, the BOSE system engages your aural senses.

Stylish Rims with Substance Rolling on R-18 Crystal-Cut Glossy Black Alloy Wheels, the Kia Seltos X Line makes a lasting style statement. With their multi-spoke layout spanning 46.20 cm (18 inches) in diameter, these alloys lend a contemporary edge. But the high-gloss black paint and precision diamond-cut machining make them stand out. The Bottom Line The X-Line model of the Kia Seltos car clearly raises the bar for style, comfort, and technology in the compact SUV segment. Its bold exterior design, surround-view cameras, expansive sunroof, and other premium features indulge the senses, while the practical underpinnings still promise real SUV capability.

It showcases how Kia India continues to push boundaries by combining substance with sophistication. For buyers seeking both practicality and prestige from their SUV, the Seltos X Line hits that sweet spot.

[sprout-senior]

drawing w pencils is overrated to me atp

i’ve just been using ballpoint pens and it’s great cuz it just makes my sketchbook so much more interesting/nice looking w all the colors and stuff, i can cover mistakes w sticky notes and that makes it look COOLER, i don’t have to deal with graphite smudging and making things ugly/muddled, i can color my doodles in without it looking mad ugly(again with the graphite issues)

i fucking love ballpoint pens they last ages, they’re cheap as fuck, they don’t dry out, you don’t have to sharpen them, you don’t have to worry about pressing down too hard, ballpoint pens are the BEST

[nihiladditaenihilperdidi]

A Haunted House || Rune + Enoch || September 24th, 1924

Enoch: “Tomorrow then.” Enoch smiled as his gaze lingered on the other as that cooler finger pressed against his wrist. He withdrew for the night, turning to head the opposite of Rune as he walked down the street. His mentor might hear the soft tones of the Swedish shanty as Enoch walked away.

The next day, the blonde woke up groggy, having the most vivid and lucid dreams he had in a while. Rune’s face appeared, acting as a muse for Enoch, who felt like he was chasing something beyond reach. The promise of magic, yet never able to have it as he tried in his dream to fly but instead plummeted into a dark void. Enoch woke up with a gasp, drenched in sweat, his heart pounding. Now awake, it encouraged him to shower and start his day, yearning for more sleep along the way.

At the laboratory, the scholar toiled away with his contraptions, setting experiments to bubble and boil away as he sat at his desk, pouring over the articulate notes he had taken yesterday. He worked on a sketch, one of the disintegrating teacup, trying to remember the details before they vanished like the mysterious man from that evening. Perhaps he should draw him as well... Occasionally, he’d glance up towards the door, hoping to see Rune, but remembered to temper his expectations. It was better if he had none at all.

Rune: Rune had found a pub just shy of respectable back toward the docks. He counted himself lucky, having the sound and scent of water to tranquilize his mind for round after round of poker. French cards still took some getting used to, but he’d made it out ahead, just as he knew he would. There was a small space to rent above the bar. Nothing but a copper bathtub, a wardrobe, and a cot, but it was good enough.

He took his winnings and set out for the heart of London sometime in the afternoon. His English wasn’t much, but his money got him through doors just fine. He was in desperate need of a proper haircut, a shave, and clothes better suited for land. Clothes that would eventually sit forgotten in his satchel the moment he set foot on another ship.

But, he wasn’t thinking about that. He was thinking about the man he considered his apprentice, and no sooner had he fixed his new dark mauve tie was he heading in the direction of the laboratory. His memory wasn’t perfect, but he’d committed the area to memory. He couldn’t very well lose someone like Enoch so soon.

And there he was. He could see him through the dirty squared glass.

Enoch: Enoch sat at his desk, working on his sketch as he traced the outline of the cup, dark brows furrowed in concentration as he did so. The pleasant hum of the machines kept him company, and the rest of the city was asleep as the sun crawled up in the sky. The young scientist counted himself lucky to have gotten a laboratory at such a young age. Typically, he would have been working with someone else, but given his mentor had passed away and he was continuing his work, the academy saw it fit that he could continue as long as he took up teaching classwork and propelling the science forward. This other research, well, it was kept as a secret side project, not wanting to give the academy any reason to pull his funding or his resources.

The blonde hummed quietly as he stood up, hearing his tea kettle go off. The pencil rested against the pages of the journal as he set his tea to steep in the boiling water, bringing the saucer and cup with him back to his station. Today, Enoch was dressed similarly: white button-down shirt, a dark blue vest, and matching slacks with leather shoes. But given he wasn’t expecting to encounter anyone, Enoch had his sleeves unbuttoned and rolled up, the graphite having stained his hand and partway up his wrist. It didn’t seem to bother the academic as he sipped from his tea, picking up the pencil to start on his drawing again, unaware of the guest that had just shown up.

Rune: He didn't feel sixty-plus years old looking at Enoch through rippled warped glass. He felt as young as he'd been in the hands of his mentor. This was something new and interesting, as every step in his journey had been thus far.

This was where his luck really shined, he thought, having lived for over half a century and not yet bored. To live with boredom would be the day he chose death.

Rune squeezed the strap of his bag in one hand, the doorknob in the other.

"Did you miss me?"

Enoch: Focused on his work, Enoch didn’t look up until he heard the creek of his door opening, announcing the unexpected guest. And by Rune’s cleaned-up appearance, the academic didn’t immediately recognize him, thinking it was a student who had stopped by to ask questions. But the proposed question caught him off guard as he looked up, registering that it was the same man from last night. “Oh!” Enoch smiled a little more now as he slowly set his pencil down. “I did. I…wasn’t sure if anything from last night was real,” he confessed with a chuckle.

“You’ve changed drastically!” With a new haircut and clothes, Rune looked like a new person. “I’m glad you decided to stop by.” Enoch stood up to greet the other, pointing to the same chair the other had sat in when he had drawn his blood. “Would you like some tea?”

Rune: There was a satisfaction to be had in catching someone like Enoch off guard. He wouldn't call himself a peacock, but he was certainly preening at the attention.

His back was dropped by the door. The same feeling as last night; this place was relatively safe. He didn't have to clutch to his things expecting them to be riffled through.

His hands came out. A little spin for good measure. The British cut was almost as impressive as the Italian. Though the piece hadn't been tailored, he'd managed to find a suitable pinstripe that complimented his shape and had him blending with the locals. So long as he didn't open his mouth.

"Yes. No milk." He took the offered seat with a sigh. "Why will I leave? I have an apprentice."

Enoch: Within the walls of the laboratory, it was safe. Enoch posed no threat and he was genuinely content to see the other in his doorway. The academic watched as Rune gave a little turn, chuckling at the showmanship of the other. "I like the look, it suits you." A little pun work there which made the blonde internally groan.

But hearing that Rune wanted tea as well, the scientist would oblige and get up to start boiling more water. "Breakfast tea is alright?" He asked as he pulled out another teacup to set the leaves to steep in. "Mm, for now until you realize I can't do magic," he chuckled as he stood by the pot, waiting for the water to boil.

Rune: They were still alone, so he would continue to speak freely in German until someone interrupted them.

"That's fine." He was soon melting in the chair, arms and legs splayed, head lulled back to stare at the ceiling.

"Of course you can do magic," he scolded. "You just have to believe in yourself."

Enoch: Enoch was grateful to have his work for the most part go undisturbed, especially when he had a guest visiting him. The man looked over his shoulder, grinning when he was scolded by the other for not believing in himself. "Correction, I believe in my skill as a researcher, but beyond that? It grows fuzzy."

The water finally started boiling, and with the leaves set up to steep, Enoch poured the hot water over it and allowed it to steep for a few minutes before presenting the cup to his mentor with sugar cubes on the side. The blonde took a seat across from Rune, taking his own cup to sip on. "So I take it you did well last night?" Given his new threads. Enoch took a slow sip of his tea, his gaze resting on Rune, wildly curious about the enigma he was.

Rune: Rune continued to stare at the ceiling until hearing the gentle footfalls of his apprentice. He sat up with a groan, the only time his age really showed. He turned his chair so that they faced each other, testing a sip without sugar. So, this was famous English tea.

"Someone took it personally when I won against his two pair. Easy money."

Enoch was given a good long look.

"Shall we begin with history today?"

Enoch: Cool fingers curled around the porcelain cup, letting the warmth soak into his fingers and warm his hands. Carefully he brought the cup to his lips to blow on it, before taking a tentative sip. It was black tea, to be exact, better with milk and sugar, in Enoch’s opinion, but it was fine on its own, too.

“Yeah? But then again, you don’t play fair,” pointed out the Englishman with a knowing smirk. His gaze rested on Rune as if challenging him. He had reread over his notes this morning, having lingered on the fact that Rune had multiple talents in the realm of magic, luck being one of them.

“Sure, what did you have in mind?” The scholar took another slow sip from his tea, entertained by the magician and what he had in-store today.

Rune: Enoch's smirk was met with his own, dropping down to his tea as he took a sip. It was fine bitter. He rather liked the profile.

Before he could indulge in his company, he had to ask, "Am I keeping you? Class, studies?" He needed to understand the time they had; his own lesson wouldn't be polished. No matter how much he had contemplated, he still hadn't come to a concrete decision.

Enoch: The young scholar seemed to relax in his chair as he crossed one leg over the other, watching Rune from over his cup as he nursed his warm drink.

“Keeping me? No, but I lecture every morning and oversee a club that meets here on Thursday evenings.” Enoch was still working on proving himself to the rest of his colleagues, which meant picking up more work than his older counterparts.

“But perhaps we can arrange our lessons for the mornings or evenings on the weekends.” This would provide some structure and expectations if they were to pursue this apprenticeship. “So, what were you saying about a history lesson?”

Rune: "Just weekends?" he caught himself saying. This certainly would be slow going at that rate.

"I lived with my mentor for a year before he let me go. I lost a bet, he took a year of my time." Said fondly, of course. As far as the timeline of his life went, it was a welcome experience. He dearly missed the man.

Enoch was different. This was a different culture entirely.

"More so application than history." The longer in Enoch's presence, the more he realized which the scholar would favor.

Enoch: Enoch laughed and shook his head, “No, I meant that we could have our lessons in the mornings and most evenings except for Thursdays. I’m typically free on the weekends, too.” He paused and raised a dark brow as he listened to the other.

“Oh, am I expected to live with you?” he teased, a bit of his personality coming out now. It was warranted after being made to stand outside in the cold yesterday, chanting a Swedish spell. Slim fingers drummed gently against the teacup, thinking about the response he received.

Hm. “Go on then, don’t keep me waiting,” he pressed as he lowered the cup in favor of picking up his pencil again, flipping to a new page to start taking notes.

Rune: "I'm not a man with a talking manor." He wiped the smile from his face and sighed. He would ignore the teasing for the time being. However, the shift in Enoch's personality was noted. It was... charming.

"I like holding you in suspense." Another sip of his tea, and the cup and saucer were pushed aside.

"There's a lot I can't tell you because I don't spend my days studying the history of magic, reading from old tomes, and communing with spirits. Some people live day in and day out just like that, and I would sooner stick your needles in my eyes."

Slowly, he leaned back in his seat.

"I told you when I was little I broke a wall because I screamed. I was born with entropy. There are nine spheres of magic - that we know of. Entropy, Correspondence, Time, Life, Mind, Matter, Forces, Spirit, and Prime. Everyone can do magic. You, your teachers, your father. The world we live in, we created, eons ago. Everyone... forgot," he gestured, hand flying from his temple.

Enoch: Enoch seemed to grow a little more serious now that Rune wasn’t smiling, though a slight grin played on his lips when the other teased him.

“I’ll make sure to return the favor,” he murmured under his breath as he jotted down some notes to himself. His blue gaze shifted as the saucer and teacup slid across the desk, eventually trailing back up to Rune.

“You’re missing out.” Because reading and learning in that style was Enoch’s favorite, he could commit details to memory and call upon them when necessary. Having a semi-photographic memory was handy.

“I wouldn’t want you to use my needles in such a way.”

There was a pause, making him consider the samples he took from Rune yesterday.

“How is your arm feeling?” he asked, gesturing towards the arm he had poked last night. But as he did, he listened to his mentor, remembering how he came about his skills. And as soon as he started listing the different areas of magic, Enoch jotted them down.

“My father?” he repeated skeptically with a chuckle; well, that would be hard because Enoch didn’t know his father. Lifting two fingers up, he pushed up his glasses as he returned to the list he had written out.

“How…do you know which one you have? I mean…of course, you scream, and things break means entropy, but…for someone like me?”

Rune: His hand pressed to the bandage still on his arm, hidden by his clothes. He simply nodded, not wanting to break his concentration.

"Even people you hate." Thinking of his father.

He took a breath.

"You'll know because it'll come naturally. All magic comes with a cost." His head tilted. "Almost all. The most basic is just as easy as breathing. And your personal sphere will feel that way."

Enoch: His gaze lingered on the hand that pressed against the arm, close to where he had drawn Rune’s blood. But the words distracted him as he listened. Enoch didn’t immediately speak, thinking about the nine spheres and which one he would most likely be, but none stood out for the scholar. “Then I haven’t noticed it yet,” he said with a saddened smile as he looked down at his hands, wondering if he truly was capable of possessing magic like that.  “Is there a way to test which one I have?” But if it was supposed to be as easy as breathing, why hadn’t he noticed it already?

Rune: "Of course you wouldn't," he sighed. "You're not awakened. You won't know anything until then."

He didn't come into this knowing the difficulty of awakenings. He had to assume arduous, otherwise most of society would actually be interesting. He knew methods, but nothing that applied to Enoch. Reawakening a cursed mage was dangerous, but it could be done without having to snap one's fingers in their face.

He wondered if a similar experience might be applied here. He would have to think about it. Jumping on a potential conclusion based on a promising probability was something a fledgling would do.

Rune shrugged off his coat and suit jacket, draping both over the back of his chair. The same bandage Enoch had wrapped his arm was still visible through his white sleeve.

"Tell me about yourself."

Enoch: It made sense; he wouldn’t be aware of his powers until he had awakened, and he wondered what that would feel like. What would it be? But one thing at a time, he supposed. Enoch leaned back against his chair, looking at his empty tea cup, debating on getting himself some more. It had been particularly cold this morning.

Watching Rune quietly, he watched as the suit jacket was draped over the back of the chair and spotted the bandage from yesterday. “I can change that for you,” he offered gently, nodding towards the injured arm before he was made to consider the posed question. “In what regard?” he asked softly, standing up to gather the tea cups and take them to the back. “If you’re looking for an exciting story, you’re going to be sorely disappointed,” grinned the academic as he returned to join Rune at his desk.

Rune: His eyes followed Enoch around the room, watching him as he knew he would be watched again. They were still studying each other, and he still liked what he saw.

"If you want." He was holding off on any attempt to heal on purpose. Perhaps if infected he might pose a new lesson for his apprentice. But, in the meantime, he just wanted to watch the scholar work.

"I'm looking to know you," he explained.

Enoch: There was a sense of guilt and responsibility that laced Enoch's inquiry. He was the cause of that pain, so he would see to it. "Yes, of course. Let me see it." From the back, he would emerge with his kit again, ready to patch up Rune and investigate how the wound was healing. "Well, I'm not very good at talking about myself, so maybe you can ask me questions and I can answer." As he talked, Enoch washed his hands clean in the sink and dried them off before approaching Rune. He'd wait for the sleeve to be rolled up before he eased his fingers at the edge of the bandage to peel it off and see the damage.

Rune: His cuff was undone, sleeve neatly folded again and again until past his elbow. What was beneath the bandage was an ugly bruise. A small reddening around the puncture, but nothing that appeared life-threatening.

"Did you have an imaginary friend when you were little?"

Enoch: Antiseptic was fetched along with a gauze as Enoch readied to wipe the area clean. His gesture was slow and tender, as if not to cause more pain to his mentor as he cleaned the wound. "I did, their name was Raine. Did you?" He looked up at Rune, now standing in front of him, leaning over to tend to the puncture as he rifled for some antibiotics for the area before he added a fresh bandage.

Rune: His smile suddenly reached his eyes. Enoch had no idea what good fortune he had. This wasn't a lost cause after all.

"Mm. Ruine. A little flying fish." Now, this was a lesson he could teach, and perhaps reawakening Enoch wasn't so improbable after all.

"How does it look?" he asked, finally glancing down at his arm.

Enoch: "Ruine and Rune?" But the thought of a little flying fish made the scholar smile a little harder now. It was endearing. "Mine was another little boy, I think." Dark brows knitted as he looked at the bruise, cool fingers palpating around the area, investigating for signs of infection, but everything looked normal as of now. "It looks okay, it should heal up nicely, but we'll keep an eye on it. I don't need my pincushion getting sick." A damp gauze with antiseptic was wiped across the wound, followed by a dab of ointment, before it was covered by a new bandage. "Good as new."

Rune: "I've heard interesting names," he mused, watching Enoch play doctor. There was something peaceful in the act. He much preferred this to drawing his blood. He had a natural healing air about him; this was his element, Rune thought. So rare and so comforting.

"I know how to awaken you."

Enoch: “Not very creative or far from the original source,” he teased. With the wound bandaged, Enoch tossed the gauze and put items away as he immediately cleaned the space. Rune would probably notice that Enoch enjoyed the finer details of things. He was very meticulous with his work and anything he approached. Probably a good healer if he had chosen to be a different kind of doctor. “Oh? And how is that?” he asked as he returned to his desk, wondering if this had anything to do with the previous question.

Rune: Rune rolled his eyes. This behavior was going to continue no matter their relationship. Just an inkling. Still in debate if he minded or not.

I look forward to hearing the name of yours, he thought.

"You've plopped a lesson in my lap." Thank God for that, because he had been waffling between ideas without a solid plan until now.

Slowly, he began rolling down his sleeve. He would continue in German. Otherwise, the next hour would become an unnecessary struggle.

"The world as we know it exists... as a river." Of course, he would use water in his analogy. "Reality is the current," he gestured, "taking everything with it. It's the reality created by everyone that has ever lived. It's the only reality sleepers are willing to accept. Most of them." He waved his hand over Enoch. Case in point.

"When I do what I do, I'm going against everyone around me that believes I can't. People like me, we're fighting the current."

He watched Enoch a moment, pausing for a question. When none came, he took a breath.

"The reason magic doesn't work as well as it used to is because people lost belief. A man turned water into wine, and walked on water, and people believed in him. We haven't been the same since nailing him to a cross." He shrugged.

Enoch: “And what lesson is that?” Enoch settled back at his seat now that he was done, picking up his pencil out of habit to write down anything of importance that might be said. Instead, the writing utensil acted like a conduit to release his pent-up energy as he fidgeted with it while listening to the other. He closely listened to the analogy, nodding here and there to show that he was following along, but as of right now, he didn’t have any questions. “So magic works better if you believe in it or will it into existence?” he asked curiously. But it took a second for Enoch to register the latter. “Wait, are you saying Jesus of Nazareth was a mage?” The scholar wasn’t sure where to stand with religion, as he had previously explained to Rune, but somehow, this was more believable than the alternative.

Rune: "Magic works better with like minds. That's why you hear of covens. Why some churches are more powerful than others. We call tribes uncivilized because they don't require what we think they need.

"It's called consensual reality. You're already a mage. Everyone you know is a mage. Your science works because you believe in it."

The next question caused a smile, one he had to wipe away with a sigh.

"You'd be surprised."

Enoch: As Rune explained, it made sense to the scholar. All these places that gathered people who shared the same philosophy seemed to garner strength behind them. "Well there's more to just believing in science. We're eliminating everything else so what's left has to be the truth." Perhaps a touch defensive but after all this has been his life's work. The pencil grew still though, the blonde arching s brow as his throwaway line was actually taken into consideration. "You're kidding..."

Rune: "No." Not defensive, or offended, not anything but certain. No, this wasn't a lie.

"I'll give you another name. Nikola Tesla."

Enoch: It was hard to wrap his head around what could be and what was. Little did he expect that name to come from the other's mouth. "What? No...I mean his work is leaps and bounds ahead of his time and tragically underappreciated." Little did he know that after Tesla passed he wouldn't get the acknowledgment he deserved until centuries later. "But how is this possible if so many are sleepers and have stopped believing?"

Rune: "Communities. Religion. Science. It hasn't been snuffed out. I don't think it ever will. If someone makes it make sense, they will believe anything. It's the difference between coincidental magic and vulgar. One can be excused with logic, the other... a little impossible to do in the middle of Charing Cross."

Enoch: Enoch quietly took the information to digest, the lead of his pencil meeting the paper as he jotted down some initial thoughts to reflect on after the conversation. “I…” He started but soon paused as he collected his thoughts. “And can you control which you can do?” he asked curiously but then looked at the nine spheres he had written down. “Or is it tied to one of these?” The end of the pencil lightly tapped on his notes.

Rune: He assumed he meant between coincidental and vulgar, so he nodded. "Depends on the spell," he explained. "The magic we did yesterday is coincidental. No visible alteration."

Enoch: "And the other?" he asked as he rested the eraser against his lower lip, holding himself back from chewing on the end of it. A nervous habit of his.

Rune: "The teacup was vulgar." He watched Enoch then, waiting for it to click.

Enoch: There was a pause of silence as he considered this information and categorized it in his mind. "Oh..." there was a pause before there was another following "Oh..." It seemed to have clicked for the blonde. "So as long as there are no visible signs, it's coincidental magic, but if there are any physical signs, it's vulgar?" This sprung more questions than it answered.

Rune: "As long as it can be explained," he corrected. "Um... if say, a car were to explode outside of your lab, it's a car, something terrible might have happened. Unfortunate. But an explosion on the sidewalk because I clap my hands, would break the consensus."

Enoch: "Ah, yes, that makes sense." He could follow the flow of thought with this. "Wait...can you cause an explosion by clapping your hands?" Not the point Rune was probably trying to make, but this is where his thoughts drifted off to.

Rune: That made Rune chuckle. "I can't, but I know someone who can. No two are exactly alike." His smile remained as he said, "I can... find you someone else, someday."

Enoch: Enoch was curious to meet other mages but for right now he was fine covering the basics with his mentor. There was still a lot for him to discover and learn. "Fascinating. I'd like to meet more but this....is my pace for now." The academic nodded as he sat up straighter in his chair, remembering that the other had mentioned something about awakening him. "So what did you mean that you know how to awaken me?"

Rune: "You said you had an imaginary friend. It's the key to awakening. I don't have to force any belief. Your 'imaginary friend' will do it for you."

He smiled, knowing he was only scratching the surface of explanation.

"We all have a part of our soul we can visualize. The part of us that knows us better than we do. It's the source of our magic. My mentor called them Avatars. Ruine, my flying fish. Your little boy. The children that are told their friend isn't real, it's... they're put to sleep. I've seen firsthand how to rectify."

Enoch: The scholar seemed confused as to what having an imaginary friend had to do with his awakening but the more Rune explained he understood. Ah. Sorta. "What? How is my imaginary friend going to do that?" He had never thought of this and he hadn't seen his imaginary friend since he was a child. So how was this going to be the key to his magic? One thing that Enoch remembered though was how unnerved he was by the little boy sometimes. But that was because he was a child who was frightened easily. "Tell me about that experience..."

Rune: Here came the part where he needed Enoch to keep an open mind. This might be the moment he loses him; told to leave and never return. He just had to accept whatever reaction with grace. Probability told him that wouldn't be the case.

"He was a man not much older than you. I was... younger than you are now. I watched as my mentor held him down in the pond behind the manor. On the verge of death, he could see everything. See his Avatar. The water rushed up and took them both. He crawled out of the pond awakened."

Enoch: The scholar furrowed a brow as he listened, not liking the sound of what 'awakening' entailed. "And there isn't any other way or spell to get the same result?" He asked curiously though having half the mind of not following through with this if it meant his death. No, thank you. Perhaps it was better that he stayed 'asleep'.

Rune: "Alternatively, you have to wake yourself." Rune reached forward, took Enoch's hands in his own, cradled them in his palms.

"You have to believe these hands can reshape reality."

Enoch: Enoch allowed Rune to take his hands, noticing how cool to the touch they were compared to his. But what Rune said caused him to question if it was possible. Blue eyes stained at their hands, his fingers gently curled against his palm.was his belief strong enough to awaken himself? He wasn't sure about this either. Well, this was a predicament. "I don't like either option," the academic gently smiled, though his words seemed defeated at his prospect.

Rune: Well, this was something his entropy hadn't predicted. There was only one thing he could think to say that might resonate.

"I thought scientists were willing to do anything," he smirked.

Enoch: It was reasonable for the man to be skeptical of what was necessary but Rune had picked up on the one thing he couldn't deny. He was willing to do anything for science. "Ah...ha you are a tricky one," chuckled the blonde as he lifted a hand to shake a finger at the mentor. "You have me there..." But how willing was he to trust Rune without going too far? "Are you thinking of drowning me too? Hopefully, I haven't annoyed you that much...perhaps we should establish a safe word."

Rune: Rune leaned back in his seat, leaving Enoch's hands behind. His smile lingered, though, pleased to see his words had an impact.

"I won't do anything you don't want me to do," he felt the need to make clear.

Enoch: The scholar let his hands slip away from the other, picking up on that pleased look in Rune's features. "Alright, as long as I can back out if I don't feel comfortable..." Though he was semi-serious about having a safe word if things would go awry.

Rune: "I'm supposed to know which thrash is stop and which thrash is drowning?" Rune bit his cheek trying to bed his grin.

Enoch: Enoch deadpan stared at the other. Touche snarky man. Rune would receive a light push at his shoulder. "If I die, I'm haunting you..."

Rune: Ah, the push caught him off guard in the best way. His smile was wide and dimpled, crinkling his eyes.

"I swear on my honor I'll bring you back if you die!"

Enoch: With a defeated sigh, Enoch would go along with this convoluted idea for now. "Where and when are you thinking of doing this?" But it took a second for him to register what the reassurance was. "Slightly comforting but also...are you sure?" He wasn't aware of what type of magic or how many times he had brought people back to life.

Rune: "Am I sure you'll awaken? Yes." He knew what Enoch was asking, but two could tease.

"We'll begin when you're ready. Tonight, tomorrow, next year."

Enoch: There was a slight huff that escaped the academic as he crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at his mentor from his seated position. "Fine, perhaps soon we can do it." There was still much to learn from the Dutchman.

Rune: Perhaps, he said. He wouldn't push, but that sounded like hesitation.

"I should go. Money won't make itself."

Enoch: Enoch seemed surprised by the sudden announcement to leave, bringing their conversation back into perspective.

"Ah, but you just arrived. Are you that keen on gambling your way to riches? Besides, you owe me a lesson, you said it yourself!"

Enoch wasn't willing to let Rune slip through his fingers like that just yet.

Rune: "You've had a lesson. You're insatiable." He reached forward, playfully and gently popping Enoch's cheek.

"I can come back tonight. Promise."

Enoch: The man was eager to learn more, and his yearning for knowledge knew no bounds, so in that regard, Rune was right. The male winced slightly at the playful touch to his cheek. But he got the message.

"Tonight," he repeated a little softer, a hand lifting to rub at his cheek before adjusting his silver-rimmed glasses.

"Stay safe out there..." Meanwhile, Enoch had many things to think about, and if he was willing to taunt death for it.

Rune: "If I'm not, I'll come to haunt you," he smiled, slipping back into his suit coat and jacket.

Enoch needed this. Whether he wanted it or not, Rune wanted him to have time to sit with the subject. To see beyond the lens of excitement and the fresh unknown.

He didn't want him to regret tomorrow.

With a nod, he saw himself out.

Enoch: Enoch smiled back at the other, though it didn't meet his eyes. He was excited to explore more but it would have to wait. Instead, the scholar watched as the man donned his jacket and headed out. Enoch offered a slight wave as he watched Rune disappear past the laboratory doors and he'd be left to look at his notebook,  staring at the scribbles he had written down. Hm.

The rest of the day would go by quietly for the scientist as he fell into the order of his day. Studying Rune's blood would be on the agenda, curious if there was anything different about it compared to his blood or anyone else's. And in between waiting for experiments, he'd walk around the laboratory, reading over his book and muttering the spell he had learned with the hopes of warming even his pinky but nothing happened. Would that change if he awakened?

The blonde chewed on his lower lip, debating this as well as he went back and forth on the valuableness of potentially getting drowned by the stranger who deemed himself as his mentor. How about if this was just a delusional chase he was going on? Enoch sighed and placed his hands on either side of his notebook as he stated at it before he glanced at his watch. Oh...it was dinner time and he hadn't eaten anything except for his tea that morning...oops.

Rune: Leaving was difficult, but necessary. His confidence wasn’t where he wanted it to be. The only logical solution was to find something worthwhile to do until dark. Something where he might utilize his skills. Gambling was the immediate answer, but also a gander at the local paper. Any strange happenings in the area someone managed to report, and a stop at the nearby cathedral.

Greed urged money first. An itch had been scratched. Later in the night when the desperate and hopeless meandered into the bar below his cot, he decided. He needed a quiet place to think.

The church first. To sit in the pews and pretend to pray, watching the elderly priest and lamenting that there was nothing to accommodate Orthodox in the area. The Catholic guilt was palpable and damn near suffocating, but after some prodding, he learned very little. A hunter frequented the church. They believed one was quite enough, but they would allow him the use of their office and use of their rectory.

A little more peace of mind in a foreign country. It was back to the pub with a newspaper under his arm. Food, a struggling read, and a nap. Time wasted until sunset, when he realized he had forgotten a game of cards altogether.

Enoch: With the rumble in his stomach dictating that he should leave the lab, Enoch gathered his coat and tucked the notebook into his satchel. He had done enough science for the day and needed to take his mind off things. But as much as he wanted to relax, he couldn’t help but think about his earlier conversation with Rune. He had to ‘awaken’ if he wanted to realize his true potential. How about if it magnificently failed? An exasperated sigh escaped through his nose as the keys jingled as he locked the lab doors for the evening.

With thoughts buzzing in his head, Enoch walked downtown, debating what he was in the mood for until he caved in and entered the local pub. It was a staple, easy to get food without much of a fuss if he sat at the bar, which is what he exactly did. The satchel next to him as he waited to get the bartender's attention to put in his order. He had done enough good in this world, right? If he were killed in the process, someone would remember his name. Right? He didn’t feel confident in this, as he placed his order for food and a glass of water. He pulled out his notebook to flip through the pages, reading over his notes again as he waited.

Rune: Rune was coming downstairs from his tiny little room when he noticed that familiar mop of platinum blond hair at the bar. Instinctually, he straightened his suit, fitting his own satchel over his shoulders. Still uncomfortable leaving his belongings in his room, for fear of them being stolen.

"Not the chowder," he greeted. "The taste is off."

Enoch: Enoch read over the words, adjusting his glasses as he drowned out the chatter from the bar. He flipped to the next page and reread his notes, frowning. He almost missed the comment, but it being so close to him, drew his attention to look over his shoulder. Upon seeing Rune, his face lit up and he grinned, "Thank you for the insight. I went with the chicken tonight." He turned in his seat to face Rune a little more, eyeing his suite. "I wasn't expecting you to see you here. Gonna join me?"

Rune: "I have a room upstairs." He didn't mind Enoch knowing as much. Trust went far enough for an exchange of addresses.

"If you wish." He took the neighboring seat at the bar with a sigh.

Enoch: The scholar looked around the pub, searching for signs of stairs until he found them. "Ah, you're not too far away from me then!" The blonde smiled as Rune took his invitation to join him for dinner. "I do wish for that." Moving his bag, Enoch closed up his notebook and slid it back into there before turning his attention to the Dutchman. "How has your day gone?"

Rune: "Uneventful," he sighed. He wanted so much to have this conversation in German, but his accent already turned heads. Expected, and just a bit depressing.

"Made friend with the local church. Ate. Slept."

Enoch: Noticing the discomfort across the other's features, Enoch would switch to German and continue to carry the conversation on.

"Ah sounds very uneventful," he chuckled.

"Would you like to order something?" He looked up to the bartender, ready to wave them over if Rune decided he did want something.

Rune: He thought about the money he had in his pocket and the lack of gambling today, shook his head.

"No, thank you," he responded in English.

He would, however, order a double of genever.

"Tell me your day."

Enoch: "Ah, even if it's my treat?" He teased with a grin. The scholar seemed pleased with himself in Rune's company as he shifted in his seat to face him a little more as he answered the question.

"I was studying your blood sample, but so far nothing has stood out. I had a few things to do at the school but that's about it. Tomorrow I will be giving a lecture." His slim fingers drummed against the bar top, a tell of his unspoken anxiety surrounding the subject.

Rune: Rune looked to the drumming fingers and back. He wasn't really hungry, but maybe it would please him. But, why did that matter?

"Nothing outspoken?" Perhaps he should switch to German. Just under his breath.

"I'll have what you're having," he said, privately. "What is your lecture about?"

Enoch: Enoch chuckled at the question, shaking his head,

"Nothing outspoken," he repeated. "But we'll see after I do some more studies. I. Curious to see if there are any differences," he slowly said in German now. When Rune agreed to order, the bartender was waved over and another chicken soup was ordered along with water.

"There's this new technique concerning chemical analysis using polar graphics. The whole thing is novel but it could serve as a great way to advance our studies." His eyes seemed to light up as he talked about science, but he seemed distracted when their drink orders arrived.

Rune: That light was as charming now as it was when they first met. His smile just managed to reach his eyes.

"Maybe you'll see Quintessence, someday. Maybe people will believe again." But, he wasn't about to hold his breath. He had a feeling that was just wishful thinking.

He wanted to ask if Enoch had decided, but thought better of it; best to wait until they were truly alone.

Enoch: Enoch reached to take his cup, giving Rune a side eye at his statement.

"Maybe," but the way he saw it, that would take a very long time. People already looked at the man as if he was crazy. He felt like one until he ran into Rune.

"So how is it that you got here? You may have told me but...a lot has happened in the past twenty-four hours." Enoch took a sip of his drink, blue eyed trained on the man.

Rune: "This pub, the life, or this country?" he smirked.

Enoch: "All of the above," he replied with his own smirk, not missing a beat.

Rune: "This pub has poker and a cot upstairs. The life... is too complicated. This country, because my captain made port. I wanted something different. He'll find me again. He always does."

Enoch: "Oh, so does that mean you'll be leaving soon?"

His brows furrowed, a look of concern knitted across those features before he turned to greet the bartender again as their bowls were brought out. It was easier to stare at the food than wrestle with the thought that their interaction has an expiration date.

"Right, you said you like to gamble." It's how the man kept his youthful glow.

Rune: Enoch's thoughts were kept to himself. In a place like this, Rune preferred keeping his mind tight and caged. No one here was trying to cause trouble. Tempting though it were to brush the scholar's mind, he would rather not have some random intruder.

"Think I'd awaken you and abandon you?" He shook his head. "I'll be here for a while."

Enoch: While the soup didn't look particularly spectacular, it was enough to make the blonde's stomach rumble, and he reached out to take his spoon.

"I'm not exactly sure what to expect if I'm being honest." But part of him was relieved to hear that Rune didn't have any immediate intentions of leaving him. There was so much still to discover!

Now he had to figure out when he wanted to try to be 'awakened'. He didn't feel like dying tonight.

 Rune: "I can feel your gears turning," he whispered, tapped his temple. "Don't need magic for that."

Rune swirled his own spoon around the bowl, letting the dumpling-like noodles dance about as he thought.

"Tell me what you're thinking."

Enoch: The bowl was stirred, mimicking Rune as he watched the carrots and bits of potato float around before he leaned forward to take his first bite. It was hearty, and thankfully, the taste was there. The mage was side-eyed by the scholar, not appreciating that he was being called out, but it was true—his thoughts sometimes could be very loud.

"About being awakened, and what if it doesn't work?" He paused as he turned to face the other, "Not that I don't appreciate your enthusiasm and support, but what if you're wrong?"

Enoch turned to his soup with a faint smile, "Not saying I won't give it a try, but I'm being realistic."

Rune: "If this were anything else," he sighed, accepting that his German was simply superior and required for the moment, "I'd understand your concern. In this? It doesn't signify." He looked Enoch in the eyes, sitting his spoon aside. He wanted to make this perfectly clear.

"I won't let anything happen to you I can't reverse."

Enoch: And while the soup had been a good distraction to look at, his gaze eventually lifted in the mage's direction. Enoch was silent as he mulled over the promise, which was hard to accept given how new this acquaintance was, but up to now, he didn't have a reason to distrust the mage. Rune was starting to grow on him.

"Fine..." he agreed with his own heavy sigh, stirring the bowl to take another couple of bites of his fine. "This weekend...we can attempt it."

Rune: "You're not doing this under duress. This has to be something you want." He ducked his head an inch, making sure he caught Enoch's gaze again.

"This isn't about me."

Enoch: The man was quiet as he contemplated his soup, almost seemingly like he hadn't heard the mage as he stirred the broth. "I know..."

Finally, he turned to look at Rune, meeting his gaze, feeling the seriousness behind those words. "I've been chasing something like this my entire life. I guess part of me is afraid of what will change if you're right about this."

Rune: He felt... sympathy. For a moment, he considered backing out of the agreement entirely. Switching every word to Dutch and abandoning him then and there. He didn't know what that was, but thought best not to dwell on it.

"You won't be the same. You won't look at anything the same ever again. But... you'll be whole."

Enoch: His gaze lingered on darker hues, and while the words did little to reassure him, he was convinced Rune meant them. And he could live with that.

"I trust you."

Enoch reached over to take his glass of water and lift it up in a toast. "This weekend, we'll see what my whole self looks like..."

Rune: I trust that you mean it, he thought. His glass was raised, but he didn't smile. The conversation had taken a sober note, and now for the first time, he truly anticipated what was going to happen this time tomorrow.

Was it any wonder he had lost his appetite? Still, a sip of water later, he forced himself to try.

Enoch: It felt strange. For what felt like there should have been celebration, there was a sullenness surrounding the air, and this left Enoch in a state of unease. And while the scholar sat with it quietly, focusing on the chatter of other individuals in the pub, he wasn't satisfied with the sudden shift in tone.

"My concerns are real, and hopefully, you see them as reasonable, but don't mistake them for doubt." His hand reached out to land on Rune's shoulder as he continued.

"I'm excited about this and a little scared, of course, but I'll finally have the answers I've been looking for, thanks to you," Enoch emphasized with a gentle squeeze to the mage's shoulder

Rune: Enoch had managed what few could naturally, reclaiming Rune's smile. This was fine. Whatever this feeling was, it would pass.

"Mm." He patted the hand on his shoulder, stared off at nothing with a sigh, expelling his unease.

"They won't believe you. You have to trick them into believing you. But... you'll meet new people. People like us. People like you." His smile broadened.

"I've heard of a group of people. A society calling themselves the Arcanum. You'd fit right in, I think."

Enoch: At this, Enoch laughed heartily as he shook his head, wholeheartedly disagreeing with this notion.

"Me? Trick people into believing me? Rune...you've met me...right?" The smile broadened as he let his hand fall away from the man's shoulder.

"I think you have the wrong person for that, but perhaps joining a group might be more along the lines I can manage. Why would I fit in? Are they esteemed academics like me?"

His grin persisted, pleased with himself that he got Rune to smile again. Something about that solemn look across his features didn't sit well with Enoch...and he wanted to make the mage smile more. Peculiar.

Rune: "Mm," he affirmed, his smile smaller, but genuine. "Exactly that. They do what I suspect you'd love more than anything else: they learn the history of spells, the mystery of why and how. Observe and report."

And sometimes, once in a blue moon, they send out a field agent to learn from those in the wild. Hilarious concept. Fit Enoch to a T, he thought.

Enoch: At the confirmation, Enoch rolled his eyes, but his smile persisted.

"Ah I see what you think of me," he teased before taking another spoonful of his soup. He listened to the description, and much to his chagrin, he had to agree with Rune...that did sound like his cup of tea.

"Maybe I'd be interested in that, but first, don't you agree I should be focusing on the basics?" By this point he had finished his soup, and good thing because he was feeling full from his meal.

Rune: He didn't know how else to explain that no two basics were the same. What would be best for Enoch, the more he thought about it, was probably someone else. He'd hold onto that for as long as he was able. A vice grip with white knuckles, because he was selfish like that.

Rune picked at his soup a little more. Only a quarter downed.

"Maybe." He'd leave it at that. "What are you doing after this? Preparing for your lecture?"

Enoch: Enoch was none the wiser as to what options he had when it came to the realm of magic, but he was content with the mentor that had found him. But the more he thought about the group, the more he was intrigued by the idea of joining like minded scholars to study magic with him.

"Hm? Nothing too much if I'm being honest. I was going to go over my notes, but that was about it. Why?" Enoch sat a little straighter in his chair as he reached for his cup of water now to sip from.

"Want to teach me something else?"

Rune: "Nothing yet." Rune glanced over his shoulder at the people. No one here spoke German. No one glanced their way knowingly, only bitterly at hearing a foreign tongue. He'd just have to tolerate the glares.

"You can watch me do magic, if you want."

Enoch: Rune would come to find out that when it came to the world of magic, Enoch was a wonderful apprentice that was excited to learn. So when presented with the opportunity, that familiar light reflected in those blue eyes.

"I would appreciate that." He wanted to learn as much as possible.

"Where are you thinking of going today?"

Rune: "There's a haunted house in east London. I want to see it, see what the rumors are about. If you come with me," Rune pulled a silver ring from his left hand, "then you need to wear this."

Enoch: "Haunted house?" Did that mean that ghosts were real?!  He paused at this thought before he nodded.

"I'll go with you..." but the ring was peculiar.  Enoch reached for the silver jewelry, turning it in his hand with curiosity.

"Why?"

Rune: "So spirits ignore you," he explained. Otherwise, he wouldn't have invited him. Not if he would be a liability.

Enoch: So it was true! There was the confirmation, given the ring, but Enoch was curious to see the phenomenon himself.  But his lecture the next day... There was an internal struggle as he combatted between these two wants. The thrill of adventure or the responsibility of his job.

Carefully he turned the ring over as he contemplated his choice.  How did it work? And how would the Rune be protected if he didn't have one? He could ask these questions along the way.  "We should get going then." The choice had been made.

Rune: Rune felt in his pocket for a few coins. Dinner was Enoch's treat, the least he could do was pay for his drink. The one he had forgotten, now chugging as he stood. Something to warm his arms on the trek across the city.

"Ja," he sighed. "Can't have you miss your lecture."

Enoch: The chemist nodded as he took the cue and dug in his pockets for enough to cover the meals. Downing the rest of the water, he picked up his bag, adjusting it over his shoulder as he slid out of his seat.

"Lead the way then, friend."

Rune: Rune paused at the first lamp outside of the pub, opening the worn newspaper clipping articling the mysterious house with the blue door on Plundell Street.

"Do you know where this is?" he asked, offering the cutout.

Enoch: Enoch looked over Rune's shoulder at the newspaper but didn't immediately answer. It took a second of wracking his brain, but ultimately, he nodded.

"At least I know which way to go," he said as he nodded toward the south side of town.

"This way..."

The scholar kept pace with Rune, even reaching over to ask to see the paper and inspect the writing more closely.

"So what are you going to do when we get there?"

Rune: "Are we avoiding construction?" The newspaper had said east, but this wasn't his town, and newspapers were often mistaken. He had yet to find a place to purchase a proper map.

Enoch: "Yes, and it's the scenic tour of the city," he added. "There's a nice tea spot if you ever want to grab a cup, and this bookshop here has a lot of rare collections. I can spend hours there..." Enoch pointed out as they walked down the sidewalk.

But soon they would be headed towards Plundell Street.

It wouldn't be too long until they neared the home, Enoch on the search for a blue door.

"Is that it?" It looked like the picture on the paper.

Rune: Rune looked to each place Enoch pointed. He didn't favor tea nearly as much as this country insisted, but, he would remember these places; Enoch's tone insisted that he did.

"You must know half the bookstores in London," he smiled.

His smile began fading once they hit Plundell Street. Feeling for his rosary from under his shirt, he wrapped the beads around his hand, pressing his thumb inch by inch as he looked from one side to the other. There, on the right, near the end of the tiny road.

"Ja. We'll go around the back."

The yard was tiny. Reminded him of the homes in Amsterdam. What counted as a backyard was little more than a patch of grass with a single swing and what was once someone's beloved teddy bear. The stuffing and left button eye were long gone.

There in the middle of the yard, he paused, eyes closed.

Enoch: Hands lifted to clutch the strap of the leather satchel as they walked down the street, Enoch excited to share his favorite spots but was mindful to not seem overly eager. Though Rune seemed to pick up on it, despite this.

"You might be right," chuckled the Englishman as he walked next to his mentor. "But, it's useful when you are in search of something. Sometimes it helps to know the shopkeeper." Blue eyes softened as he looked away and back towards the ground.

Books were an invaluable resource and what answers he couldn't find within the pages, he set out to discover for himself, much like tonight. Ghost and ghouls were stories conjured to keep children in bed, yet so many accounts of strange things happening at night made Enoch curious to discover the truth.

Their footsteps slowed as they arrived at the property, and the scholar fell back to let Rune take the lead. As they walked around the back, Enoch observed the yard in the dim light before his attention finally rested on Rune. He stood to the side, noticing the subtle movements of his fingers against the rosary that had started well before their arrival. But afraid to break his mentor's concentration, Enoch remained quiet as he spun the ring seated on his left index finger nervously, unsure what to expect.

Rune: Opening his mind to the veil was easier without the ring Enoch possessed. Whether he accompanied or not he would have pocketed the enchantment. Whatever dwelled on the property needed to see him. Seeing wasn't the same as possessing. The iron cuff on his right hand prevented such bumbles.

"You don't pray, do you?" he whispered, eyes still closed.

Enoch: The assignment had been to watch Rune practice magic, and so that's what Enoch was. The familiar rustle of his notebook being fished out of his bag could be heard, followed by the slow page flips as the scholar opened up to a new spot to take notes. Ever the academic.

Carefully, Enoch wrote down the date and time, including the address they were at. In the middle of his writing, he paused when questioned about his religion—or, in this case, lack of it.

"No. It didn't seem that whoever was on the other side was listening."

It wasn't because of a lack of trying, because Enoch had gone through the motions; it just never stuck.

"Is that a problem?"

Rune: Rune opened one eye, and immediately wanted to smack that book out of Enoch's hand. But, he managed a snort.

"You're going to do this now?" he whispered.

Enoch: "What?" Enoch looked up; his writing stopped as he watched Rune, seemingly confused.

"Should I not?"

Rune: "I have no idea. No one ever has," he smiled earnestly.

Enoch: "Hush then and leave me to my ways," Enoch whispered back, a grin on his lips as he looked back down to his notebook.

"Aren't you busy doing...What...is it that you're doing anyway? You know...for the record."

Gold-rimmed glasses were adjusted as he looked back up at Rune with amusement.

Rune: Rune's eyes slowly opened again. Ah. This was why no one did what he did. His rosary-covered hand slowly reached out to cup the scholar's jaw.

"Shh. Let me listen."

Enoch: Being out like this in the dark had a certain energy, very much reminiscent of that first night they had met. The promise of magic and new experiences excited the scholar, making him uncharacteristically animated around the mage. But he grew still when Rune cupped his jaw, asking for silence. The touch surprised him, but Enoch subtly nodded into that hand, agreeing to the mage's ask. But what was he listening for? Enoch couldn't hear anything.

Rune: Still very much a sleeper. Closing his eyes, bringing his hand back in prayer, he asked God for one additional request: please, don't let him be a Dreamspeaker. He'd seen one too many spirit mages lose their mind. Enoch was too sweet for that.

The softest hum, no different from inquisitive noises made in conversation, warmed his entire being. The hairs on the back of his neck rose. Nothing demonic, thank God.

"It's just -" Just was a little too nonchalant for Enoch. "-It's a... wraith. An undead spirit. A young one."

Enoch: Enoch leaned back once Rune's hand left his jaw, standing a little straighter as he watched the mage carefully.  His face was a little flush now. Much like before, he took special notes of the soft hums, the smallest motion because he had picked up even the most discreet gesture could be a cast in disguise.

But at the risk of being teased , Enoch didn't reach for his notebook and pen, instead, he stood back with his hands gently clasped behind his back as he watched.

"Are they here?"

He turned his head as if expecting to see the wraith, but clearly, nothing was there. But his attention then drew to the house. Were they going to barge inside and continue tonight's adventures from within? The blonde was feeling adventurous, even if breaking and entering went against his very being.

Rune: "I wouldn't feel much if she wasn't." There were several methods available to him. Some less violent than others. This being a child, the answer was obvious. No forcing conversation, no forcing her through the great beyond.

Rune looked over his shoulder for anything long and sharp. A piece of pipe, fence - a small stick would do just fine. A circle was traced near the old swing set. The little broken teddy bear was placed beside him. More intricate lines marked north and west.

"Keep the ring on and keep quiet."

Enoch: Enoch's head gently canted to the side as he observed his mentor, wondering how the other was able to pick up on the wraith's presence. It must have something to do with energy...maybe frequency? Whatever it was, it was curious, and it kept Enoch's attention.

Now, when Rune took hold of a stick, the scholar watched the drawing take shape; for this, he would break his stance to trace in his notebook along with a few jotted notes. It was just then he was about to ask a question, and Rune asked for him to stay quiet. It was as if the man could read his thoughts, then again... he could. Fine, quiet he would be.

Rune: Enoch wasn't given a second look, so long as he remained silent. Effortless when on duty. This was charity, but had to be taken seriously.

There were no candles, no incense, and no salts. Nothing yet. First, to see if she was willing to communicate. One last mark and his hands came out flat in front of him, rosary splayed in the patchy grass. He bowed his head and whispered a gentle greeting.

Quiet. Stillness. Nothing but a sharp chill walked past Enoch from behind. She was there, playing hide and seek.

The exorcist got to his feet. His arms spread wide, coming in violently, fists against his chest and stomach, hunching low, head nearly to his knees.

And then backward, hands slowly came forward, only to smack his chest with open palms as he breathed low. Arms out wide again.

It was a dance. A dance to entice the little girl. He knew the risks. Any nearby spirit could feel his energy and come snooping. But... he smiled to the sound of a giggle by Enoch's leg.

"Hi, darling." English, from this moment forth.

Enoch: It was a curious sight to behold as everything began to unfold. The scholar watched as Rune became more animated, entertained by his jerky movements as they developed until they turned into a dance. Why in the world was he doing that?

The more he watched, the more he was amused by this small show his mentor was putting on for the spirit, a soft chuckle of amusement escaped him. He didn't make any other sound as the smile remained pressed on his lips as he continued to watch the fluid movements. Was this actually going to work?

Enoch got his answer soon enough as he felt the coolness of something pass behind him and lean against his leg. And it seemed like he wasn't the only one to feel it. Rune could see her. 'Hello to you, too,' The academic almost answered in greeting, but caught himself as he too looked down in the direction of the little girl, yet he wasn't able to see whom Rune was addressing.

Rune: Enoch would have been given the dirtiest of looks had he opened his mouth. Already on thin ice for that - arguably adorable - little laugh. If he were to acknowledge his presence with a glance, there was a very real chance of losing the wraith's favor. At the very least, causing her anxiety.

He smiled at her, features softer than they had ever been in the scholar's presence. He offered his hand, gestured with it for her to approach as he took a knee. Each movement was now slow and deliberate.

"It's all right. I'm Felix. Are you looking for someone?"

The feeling against Enoch's leg lessened.

"What's your name?" A one-way conversation, it would appear to any sleeper.

"Diana. Look what I found. Is yours?" He held up the disheveled teddy, letting it rest on his knee.

"Diana, do you know why you're still here?"

Enoch: While only a small laugh had escaped him, it was torture not to say more. He didn't need Rune to be upset with him and lose faith in his first apprentice...or be given a dirty look. But his grin persisted as he watched the exchange continue and he got to witness something he hadn't seen from his mentor as of yet. He hadn't seen this side of Rune and it was sweet, almost tender even how he addressed the wraith. His gaze softened as he observed the dark-haired man kneel down to greet the little girl. While he couldn't see the spirit, he could envision it based on the ongoing conversation.

Enoch looked down at his leg as he felt the pressure lessen and he followed it to where he thought the little girl stood. He watched for a moment before he carefully reached for his notebook and pen to start writing again. Well..some jotted notes but this time he started to sketch out the scene. If only he knew what Diane looked like. Again, torture for the inquisitive scholar who was itching to ask questions.

Rune: A long silence on Rune's end. His eyes fixed on an area several feet in front of him. His features remained kind, nodding once in a while to something Enoch couldn't hear. His brows furrowed just once, only to quickly smooth.

"I can find her for you. Would you like that?" A smile, another nod. "Promise you'll stay right here? Look," he gestured to the circle, "Theo and I made it. It'll keep you safe." One final pause, Rune slowly stepped out of the sigil.

"Good girl."

Enoch: Recently, Enoch found himself in a world he never thought he would be a part of. Just a few days ago he was confronted with that magic was real and now he was finding that ghosts and ghouls were as well. Did that mean all the creatures that went bump in the night were real too? Something to think about later.

Pen scratched against the paper in his journal as he sketched out the scene along with the sigil on the ground, occasionally looking up to watch his mentor have a one-sided conversation with the little girl. He was taking this all rather well at face value, yet knew he'd be laying in bed replaying this scene. So much for lecture preparation. The pen was cradled between the pages when it seemed like the interaction was coming to an end and Enoch glanced up, weary about speaking since he had not been permitted to do so yet. But the look on his face was clear. What now?

Rune: Rune kept his back to his apprentice, watching the little girl until her attention turned to the stuffed animal he had left in the circle. She wouldn't be leaving the sigil anytime soon. Not a trap, but like honey to a fly. She would have no interest in leaving. At least, not for a little while. The world was quieter, calmer within the circle.

Only when they were out of the backyard did Rune finally speak. German, of course.

"She wants to know her baby sister is all right. Neumenona, she said. Pneumonia."

Enoch: The notebook was gently tucked under Enoch's arm as he looked at the sigil carved on the ground and the stuffed ragged bear in the middle.

"Pneumonia. Is that why she hasn't moved on?"

That's what it was, right? Spirits got stuck in limbo because of unresolved things on this plane.

"Poor thing..." It was unlikely that the baby had survived it.

"What are you going to do?"

Rune: "Her sister, yes." Rune felt for something in his coat, removing a pre-rolled cigarette from a silver case.

"I'm a man of my word. I'm going to find her family and see what happened. If I come up short, I'll force her out myself."

He glanced at his apprentice. "Last resort."

Enoch: "And how will you do that?"

Enoch's gaze shifted to the cigarette as it was fished out.

" You can force her out?"

Enoch stared at the empty sigil, wishing he could see what Rune did. All of this was fascinating. The ring on his finger was toyed with as he spun it on his digit before sliding it up and down his finger as he thought, drawn back to the cigarette.

Rune: "Research. Asking around. Something to do tomorrow."

He watched the road, looking from house to house. Looking for any silver thread linking one house to the next.

"If I have to. I'd rather not."

Enoch: "Well, that's something I'm good at," smiled the scholar. It was how he had drawn the mage out that night they met.

"I should probably give this back to you, though," he offered as he finally slid the silver ring off and held it out to Rune.

"What did she look like? I was trying to capture the scene, but only could get one side of the conversation."

It hadn't taken Enoch long to accept that ghosts were real after he had confirmed that magic was, too. He held out the notebook, and there was the start of a sketch: Rune crouched on the ground, talking to an outline of a small child.

Rune: "You want me to describe her as one would a Rembrandt?" Had he ever done something like that before? Actually, no.

He scoffed, taking the ring and tossing it in the air, catching it with both hands, cigarette dangling between his lips.

"Fine." He sucked the tobacco with a sigh. "You're going to help me find her family?"

Enoch: "If you want to convince me that you weren't talking to the wind that is...and I've decided to entertain a madman."

Enoch grinned as he watched the ring sail through the air before it was caught, nodding to the other.

"Share, and I'll consider helping you." Even though he had already agreed to it, some of his humor was starting to come through the more comfortable he grew around the mage.

Rune: He gestured to the house behind them. Fine, fine. He would have to tap into his poetic side. Was that a side that even existed? Must be, he thought, to have any emotion behind ritual dances.

"Brunette. Small, narrow chin. Large eyes. Dark underneath. Might have been that way in life."

He looked at the scholar expectantly.

"You better write this down or draw while we walk."

Enoch: Right. The dancing!

Enoch nodded as the other finally described the little girl he was speaking to in detail. When prodded to take action, he laughed and nodded.

"Fine. Brunette, large eyes...about how old was she?"

The notebook came out, and notes were jotted on a new page to draw into detail later. He might even consider sharing the final piece.

"And...the dancing...you definitely have better moves than me. What was that about?"

Rune: "Five, maybe six. I can't say for certain. We'll find out when we learn about the family."

The exorcist scratched at his scalp, taking another long, deep drag before flicking what remained onto the road. He needed better rolling paper.

"It's called Deadspeak. It's a dance older than England's been a country. It entices them. The movements switched," he gestured, one hand over the other, and around again, "change the spell into something else with another name."

Enoch: Enoch nodded as he looked back to the house.

"I'm sure I can find something in the library if we find out their names. Could be a place to start."

His attention drifted back to the mage, the first time he had heard of this dance, watching as Rune's hands folded over one another along with the explanation.

"I can see why it entices them. It worked on me," he teased with a gentle chuckle, but he understood that each motion had a significance behind it.

He watched the butt of the cigarette sail away, and while it looked like he may have wanted to ask for one, he didn't this time.

Rune: "Library, newspaper. I'll be back tomorrow knocking on doors." There was that rare hesitation, worrying his bottom lip. "If you could help with that," he sighed. "My... English."

He was... just... going to ignore that - whatever it was Enoch had just done. Tease? Flirt? It wasn't the first time, he realized. He wasn't sure what to make of it, nor the feeling in his stomach.

Enoch: Those were all good starts for finding out who the little girl was. They could use the address of the home as well and it would hopefully narrow down their search. But as their conversation continued, Enoch noticed that concerned look across Rune's face.

"Of course. Though I think with a little practice you'll be a natural at it."

Now the teasing came across innocently enough, though hearing himself say it aloud gave the chemist pause and he cleared his throat and looked away. Perhaps a bit too forward.

"Stop by my lab tomorrow and I can share what I've found, if you'd like."

Better to move on and not acknowledge it.

Rune: "I practice when I'm not teaching you magic," he said, managing a smile.

"I intend to." Every day, if he could help it. Whether they backed out of the awakening ritual or not, he enjoyed Enoch's company, and the little interviews each encounter became.

Enoch: "See? Off to a good start." Enoch wouldn't be opposed to teaching or helping Rune practice, but he didn't want to impose himself when they were just starting to get to know each other.

"Good, then I'll be expecting you..."

Enoch gently bumped into the other's shoulder as he nodded towards the sidewalk to head back to the pub. He had a lecture to give in the morning after all.

Rune: "Afraid of standing in the road?" Rune spread his arms wide. He shouldn't play a game of chicken this late at night. Not to scare the daylights out of his apprentice, but he was in a good mood.

Enoch: "I personally don't want to meet my death tonight. You'll be getting that privilege this weekend," laughed the scholar.

"Come on," he grinned as he reached over to tug Rune by the arm to join him on the sidewalk. The good mood was contagious, especially these last couple of nights in the mage's company.

Rune: He didn't expect to be tugged, but he let it happen. The gesture was sweet, and he wouldn't reprimand him for it.

"You're going to show me your room?"

Enoch: It would be of no use if Rune got run over, and that was the end of Enoch's short-lived stint with the tease of magic in his life. It was better this way.

Yet he wasn't prepared for the tease that shortly came after, causing those cool, pale features to turn red. It took him a minute to recover, responding with a sly smile as he looked straight ahead as he walked. "You haven't danced enough to earn that."

Rune: It had been asked innocently. He would swear by that. From Enoch's own mouth, both were living in nearby pubs. He expected the scholar's accommodation to be better than his own.

But flirtations returned with a vengeance, and once again, Rune didn't know what to do with himself. He was feeling his age. His young spirited self would have pushed Enoch against the wall. Challenged him, kissed him, and thrown him away. Awakening sleepers wouldn't have been a consideration. Only to scratch an itch for some sliver of humanity.

But he was trying something new, this humanitarian, vulnerable game.

"Then this is where we part ways," he said, gripping the strap of his satchel.

Enoch: Enoch would go to his grave denying that it has been posed as an innocent question. He wasn't ready for the flirtatious tones that took over the conversation but he wasn't against it either. Enoch wasn't sure what it was, but what he did know was that he enjoyed his time with the other. He even found himself looking forward to spending time with Rune.

Lighter blue eyes finally drifted back to meet his mentor to read his reaction.  Still surprised with himself by that bold response.

The academic was studious and generally kept to himself and his work. He was never one to allow himself to be distracted by feelings, yet something about the mage drew him in. Something to think on in the quiet of his dark room, but for now it was agreed that they would part ways.

Enoch nodded as they stopped just outside the pub Rune was staying at. "Right...yes, until tomorrow," he agreed taking a step back.

"By the way, I like the name Felix. It suits you."

The warmth still radiated on his face though it was cooling down as he headed away, lifting a hand to wave goodbye.

"Goodnight, Felix."

Rune: Felix. Not once, but twice. It hadn't occurred to him that Enoch only knew him by his surname. Somehow, he had forgotten. Enoch had always known him by every name, had known him longer than two days. It was his familiar, friendly energy. He had already made himself at home in Rune's company, and so effortlessly.

He didn't know what to make of him, or himself for that matter. He was supposed to be on duty, and this harmless young upstart was giving him a shake.

The Euthanatos could only raise his hand, struck dumb and otherwise frozen, watching Enoch until he rounded the corner.

[shilatjewelers]

A Comprehensive Guide to How Lab-Grown Diamonds Are Made

Unveiling the Mystery:

Diamonds have captivated hearts for centuries, symbolizing love, luxury, and timeless elegance. However, concerns about the environmental impact and ethical practices of traditional diamond mining have fueled the rise of lab-grown diamonds. These dazzling stones offer a compelling alternative, boasting the same brilliance and beauty as mined diamonds but without the ethical and environmental drawbacks. But how exactly are these lab-grown diamonds created? This comprehensive guide delves into the fascinating science behind lab-grown diamond production, exploring the two most common methods: High Pressure High Temperature (HPHT) and Chemical Vapor Deposition (CVD).

Beyond Mimicry: The Science of Creating Real Diamonds

It's important to understand that lab-grown diamonds aren't imitations – they are the real deal. These stones possess the same physical, chemical, and optical properties as mined diamonds. They sparkle just as brilliantly, refract light in the same way, and possess the same exceptional hardness, making them virtually indistinguishable from their mined counterparts. The key lies in replicating the extreme conditions of heat and pressure found deep within the Earth's mantle, where natural diamonds form over millions of years. Lab-growth technology accelerates this process, creating stunning diamonds in a controlled laboratory environment.

Method 1: High Pressure High Temperature (HPHT)

HPHT is a well-established method, responsible for a significant portion of lab-grown diamond production. Here's a breakdown of the process:

Seeding the Process: The HPHT method begins with a tiny "seed" diamond, usually a fragment of a mined diamond. This seed crystal serves as the foundation for growth.

The Pressurized Chamber: The seed diamond is placed inside a special chamber capable of withstanding immense pressure. This chamber is filled with a carbon source, often a form of graphite.

Mimicking the Earth's Mantle: Extreme heat and pressure are then applied within the chamber. Temperatures can reach upwards of 5,000 degrees Fahrenheit (2,760 degrees Celsius), and pressure can exceed 1.5 million atmospheres. These conditions mimic the environment where natural diamonds form deep within the Earth.

Carbon Crystallization: Under this intense pressure and heat, the carbon source breaks down and migrates onto the seed diamond. Over time, the carbon atoms rearrange themselves, replicating the diamond's crystal structure and causing the seed to gradually grow layer by layer.

Cooling and Polishing: Once the desired size is achieved, the chamber is slowly cooled to prevent cracking. The rough diamond is then meticulously cut and polished using traditional diamond cutting techniques to achieve its final brilliance and sparkle.

Method 2: Chemical Vapor Deposition (CVD)

CVD is a rapidly growing method for lab-grown diamond production. Here's a closer look at the process:

The Growth Chamber: The CVD method utilizes a vacuum chamber filled with a hydrocarbon gas mixture, often containing methane and hydrogen.

Creating a Plasma Field: An energy source, such as microwaves or lasers, is used to excite the gas molecules, transforming them into a high-energy state called plasma.

Diamond Seed Preparation: A diamond seed plate is placed inside the chamber. This seed can be a small, synthetic diamond or even a sliver of silicon.

Carbon Deposition: The excited carbon atoms in the plasma are attracted to the cooler seed plate. They begin to bond together, replicating the diamond's crystal structure and forming a thin layer of diamond on the seed plate.

Layer-by-Layer Growth: The plasma continues to break down the gas molecules, and the carbon atoms continuously deposit on the seed plate, gradually building up layer by layer to create a rough diamond.

Doping for Color (Optional): For specific colors, additional gases can be introduced into the chamber during the CVD process. This allows for the creation of lab-grown diamonds with fancy colors like blue or yellow.

Cutting and Polishing: Similar to the HPHT method, the rough diamond is then cut and polished using traditional techniques to achieve its final dazzling form.

Beyond the Methods: Ensuring Quality and Ethical Sourcing

Choosing a reputable lab-grown diamond vendor is crucial. Here's what to look for:

Growth Method Transparency: Inquire about the specific method used to create the lab-grown diamond (HPHT or CVD). Both methods produce high-quality diamonds.

Ethical Sourcing: Ensure the vendor uses ethically sourced materials for the growth process, such as recycled carbon sources.

The Advantages of Lab-Grown Diamond Production

While both HPHT and CVD methods successfully create stunning lab-grown diamonds, there are some key advantages to consider:

HPHT:

Established Technology: HPHT is a well-established method with a proven track record, having been used for decades to produce high-quality lab-grown diamonds.

Larger Diamond Growth: HPHT is generally more efficient for growing larger lab-grown diamonds.

CVD:

Precise Control: The CVD method offers more precise control over the diamond's growth process, allowing for better control over clarity and color. This can be particularly advantageous for creating fancy colored lab-grown diamonds.

Scalability: CVD technology is considered more scalable, making it potentially more efficient and cost-effective for large-scale lab-grown diamond production.

Environmentally Friendly: Some argue that CVD might have a slightly lower environmental footprint compared to HPHT due to potentially lower energy consumption.

Innovation and the Future of Lab-Grown Diamonds

The world of lab-grown diamond production is constantly evolving. Here are some exciting advancements to look forward to:

Advanced Color Technologies: Research is underway to develop a wider range of vibrant and stable colors for lab-grown diamonds. Imagine the possibilities of creating lab-grown sapphires, emeralds, or rubies using these advanced techniques.

Sustainable Practices: The lab-grown diamond industry is constantly striving to improve its environmental footprint. Look forward to advancements like using renewable energy sources for powering the growth chambers and minimizing waste generation throughout the production process.

Faster Growth Rates: Researchers are exploring ways to accelerate the growth rate of lab-grown diamonds, potentially making them even more accessible and affordable in the future.

Beyond the Science: The Human Touch of Lab-Grown Diamonds

While the science behind lab-grown diamond creation is fascinating, it's important to remember the human element involved. Skilled technicians meticulously monitor the growth process, ensuring optimal conditions. Experienced diamond cutters then transform the rough lab-grown diamonds into dazzling masterpieces using traditional cutting and polishing techniques. The human touch remains essential in ensuring the exceptional quality and brilliance of lab-grown diamonds.

Making an Informed Choice: Lab-Grown Diamonds and You

With a deeper understanding of how lab-grown diamonds are created, you can make an informed decision about incorporating them into your jewelry collection. Lab-grown diamonds offer a compelling alternative to mined diamonds, allowing you to embrace ethical sourcing, celebrate sustainable practices, and adorn yourself with a dazzling stone that reflects your values.

Here are some additional resources to empower your journey:

Reputable Gemological Laboratories: Familiarize yourself with reputable gemological laboratories like the Gemological Institute of America (GIA) or the International Gemological Institute (IGI). These organizations offer grading reports for lab-grown diamonds, ensuring quality and authenticity.

Educational Resources: Several organizations and websites offer educational resources about lab-grown diamonds and the HPHT and CVD processes. Explore resources from the International Grown Diamond Association (IGDA) or learn more from reputable jewelry retailers specializing in lab-grown diamonds.

Visiting a Lab-Grown Diamond Retailer: Schedule an appointment with a reputable lab-grown diamond retailer. This allows you to see the stones firsthand, learn more about the specific growth methods used, and ask questions to ensure you feel confident about your purchase.

By understanding the science and human ingenuity behind lab-grown diamond production, you can celebrate the beauty and brilliance of these ethical and sustainable stones. Let your next piece of jewelry be a symbol of your values, your style, and your commitment to a brighter future.

[govindhtech]

Dell XPS 14: Powerhouse Performance in a Sleek Package

Dell XPS 14 Laptop

Motion of power. AI capable

The stunning form factor of the XPS 14 allows it to perfectly balance mobility and performance. Its lightweight 3.7 lb design, thin 18 mm size, and extended battery life allow you to create on the go. Driven by Intel Core Ultra processors with AI support.

Recognisable style

Constructed using CNC-machined aluminium and Gorilla Glass 3, this laptop is robust yet lightweight. Tone-on-tone finishes in Platinum or Graphite complement the XPS 14’s sophisticated, understated design.

Creative interiors

With contemporary, user-friendly interiors that provide a tidy, harmonious appearance, switching between tasks is simple.

Row of touch functions

Easily switch between the function and media keys, and only display the icons you desire.

A glass touchpad that is seamless

The feedback is precise and responsive when using a haptic touchpad. The smooth glass covering the palm rest feels more comfortable to the touch.

Copilot Key for Windows

You can instantly access Copilot, your very own AI assistant, in Windows with just one click. At your fingertips, get accurate responses, motivation, and solutions.

Dell XPS 14 2024

With potent Intel Core Ultra processors and 47W of sustained performance, run creative apps more quickly and smoothly. A dedicated engine is provided by performance-class Intel Core Ultra processors to help open up AI possibilities on PCs.

With NVIDIA Studio drivers, NVIDIA 40-series graphics up to GeForce RTX 4050 Laptop GPU can be used to quickly edit, export videos, and power AI-enabled creative apps for 3D, video, or graphic design.

Enjoy seamless file access and multitasking with up to 4TB of storage and 55% faster LPDDR5x memory.

GPU High Throughput

Perfect for AI-accelerated video editing and digital content creation using Adobe and other creation apps.

NPU Low Power

Perfect for using AI applications during video conferences, such as Microsoft Studio Effects.

CPU Quick Response

Perfect for AI workloads like instant transcription and noise cancellation as well as real-time multitasking.

New Dell XPS 14

Enhanced speed and extended battery life

Performance with NVIDIA RTX 4050 Graphics is 3.3 times faster.

Intel Arc Graphics performance is 2.3 times faster.

Increased battery life by 58%

Use the Netflix Windows 11 app to stream your favourite shows for up to 21 hours on an FHD+ display or 10 hours on an OLED display with 3.2K+ resolution.

Customise your experience using a PC

Silent

Lower the noise of the fans to lessen distractions.

Exceptional performance

Increase efficiency by using faster processors.

Nice

Use a faster fan to keep your system cooler.

Enhanced

Turn on the optimal ratio of heat to performance.

Immersive sound and images

See material come to life with crystal-clear detail, vibrant colour, and a full, cinematic soundtrack.

3.2K+ resolution and a 14.5-inch touch-capable InfinityEdge display provide clear images.

With a variable refresh rate of up to 120 Hz, moving content is smoother and battery life is enhanced when viewing static images.

360-degree Dolby Atmos and Waves MaxxAudio spatial audio

Bright colours against a true black background with an optional OLED display, crisp contrast, and rich details with Dolby Vision

Blue light is reduced by Eyesafe technology without affecting colour.

Producer Jack Joseph Puig, who has won multiple Grammy Awards, tuned the 8W quad-speaker design.

Incredibly clear video chat

During video calls, a high-resolution 1080p FHD 2MP webcam will help you look and sound your best. Even in low light, the intelligent webcam and audio show crisp detail and minimise background noise.

AI-powered functions help you maintain eye contact by adjusting your gaze, hiding or softening your background, and keeping you in focus.

Inventive and imaginative sustainability

Innovative design

This laptop is made with at least 25% recycled materials and an inventive blend of low-emission and recycled aluminium, which lowers the material’s carbon footprint by 89%. It is made to meet your environmental goals.

Higher expectations

This laptop satisfies the highest requirements for EPEAT Gold registration, now with Climate+ designation, and is certified ENERGY STAR 8.0. This laptop has achieved decarbonisation in accordance with industry best practices thanks to Climate+.

Minimally damaging packaging

The materials used to make laptop packaging are renewable or recycled, and it is 100% recyclable.

Simple to employ

With MyDell, our AI-powered optimisation software, you can prioritise tasks and plan your navigation while your computer is automatically optimised for optimal audio, video, battery life, and overall performance. Set up software, alter XPS settings, and do much more from one easy place.

Link any phone to your laptop. You can manage photo notifications, make calls, send texts, and transfer files and photos with ease.

With just one click, Dell Pair offers a simple and secure connection to your Dell Bluetooth devices.

Utilise your PC to remain productive

Personalised assistance at any time, anyplace. AI-powered problem identification and fixing, along with reliable repair coverage.

Make life simpler every day

With its sleek and contemporary design, Windows 11 offers multitasking features that make tasks easier, quicker, and more stylish.

Built right in, your very own AI assistant will handle the grunt work so you can accomplish the extraordinary. Get practical answers, ideas, and solutions for your queries, projects, and to-do list with Copilot for Windows.

With Windows Studio Effects and Microsoft Teams, you can accomplish more and stay connected. You can now improve the quality of your video calls by removing distracting images and sounds.

Slots & Ports

UHS-I/UHS-II MicroSDXC v6.0 card reader

Thunderbolt 4 (USB Type-C) featuring Power Delivery and DisplayPort 2.1

A 3.5mm combo headphone/microphone jack

USB Type-C Thunderbolt 4 with DisplayPort 2.1 and Power Delivery

USB Type-C Thunderbolt 4 with DisplayPort 2.1 and Power Delivery

One HDMI v2.0 and USB-C to USB-A v3.0 adapter (included in box)

Dell XPS 14 Price

The basic model of the Dell XPS 14, which has a 12th Gen Intel Core i5 CPU, 16GB of RAM, and 512GB of storage, begins at $1,699 (about ₹1,24,490). Depending on the configuration you choose, such as a more powerful CPU, more RAM, a bigger hard drive, and a higher-resolution display, the price may go up to $2,500 (about ₹1,83,735) or more.

On the Dell website, you may configure your own Dell XPS 14 and see the most recent price [Dell XPS 14 Laptop].

Read more on Govindhtech.com