#How to Prevent Yellow Rust

[umangharyana]

Yellow Rust, Wheat Disease : कांगड़ा में पीला रतुआ से गेहूं फसल को बचाने के लिए कृषि विभाग ने क्या कदम उठाए?

कांगड़ा जिले के किसानों के लिए एक खतरनाक खतरा उत्पन्न हो गया है। पीला रतुआ, गेहूं की फसल को बर्बाद करने वाला एक खतरनाक रोग, ने किसानों की चिंता बढ़ा दी है। लेकिन कृषि विभाग इस संकट से निपटने के लिए पूरी ताकत से जुटा हुआ है। कृषि विकास खंड परागपुर में कृषि विभाग की टीम ने गेहूं की फसल का निरीक्षण किया और किसानों को इस खतरनाक रोग से बचने के लिए जागरूक किया। कृषि अधिकारियों ने इस रोग के लक्षणों को…

[acapelladitty]

friction and harmony

Pairing: Cooper Howard/Lucy Maclean

Summary: One cruel incident pushes Lucy over the edge and a fight with Cooper turns physical in a way which changes their dynamic forever. (4.7k words)

(warnings for: blood, gun violence, first time sex, biting, rough sex, heavy petting, unprotected sex, arguments, verbal cruelty, desperation, physical violence, mutual orgasm, mild foreplay)

Fic Masterlist

Link to AO3

Keeping close to the fire as the approaching night stole the heat from the air, Lucy couldn't stop her racing, disjointed thoughts from playing the earlier days events with Cooper in a grim and repeating loop. With every passing moment, she could feel the annoyance in her chest roiling anew and her mouth set into a tight line as she recalled her role in the violence.

The handkerchief coming away from his lips stained with fresh blood, the old man who had introduced himself as Mr. Daniels glared at it distastefully as he recovered from his coughing fit and returned the filthy rag to his inner pocket.

"Nasty bit of business." Mr. Daniels muttered, mostly to himself, before glancing back at the pair who stood with their caps in hand. "But anyway, what was my offer again? Oh, yeah. Twenty caps, three vials."

"Seems reasonable."

Casting Lucy a withering look at her audible enthusiasm, Cooper clearly disagreed with her naive assessment.

"I could make your fine ass walk to the next town over and get me five vials for half that." He was quick to counter, crossing his arms over his chest as Cooper split his attention between Lucy and the obvious tremble of the old mans limbs as he struggled to bring his lit cigarette to his lips. "So let's re-assess the situation here."

Mr. Daniels shrugged with a nasty cough as he cleared his throat of phlegm. "Can't do any better than that. Got shit to buy and shit to pay off."

His face sunken and pallid, the old man was clearly unwell. Most likely dying, if the bloodied handkerchief was anything to go by, and Lucy felt a swell of pity in her heart as she listened to Cooper continue to argue his point without care or mercy.

"Ain't asking for the deal of the century here, but I ain't some dumbass vault dweller-"

"Hey!" Lucy interjected defensively.

"- who don't know how these here exchanges work. I'll give you fifteen for three. Final offer."

Unable to rise from his chair due to whatever ailments were afflicting him, Mr Daniels pointed at a rusted metal box which sat off to the side of his chair as he caught Lucy's eye and nodded to accept the ghouls spoken offer.

"Go look in there, Miss. You'll find what you and your ghoul friend need."

Nodding with a wide smile, Lucy diligently walked over and opened the container. Inside lay a handful of vials of the lurid yellow drug which she had quickly come to discover Cooper needed to delay the inevitable and prevent himself from turning feral. What made up the odd compound, she had no idea, but it was almost the same consistency as rad-away if it were developed in a completely off colour.

Cooper's golden rule of being side-tracked by bullshit was a beast of his own making as ensuring a constant supply of this stuff had proven to be their biggest time waste as they traversed the wastelands. Not only that, but a low supply often left Cooper in a hell of a mood as his already short temper existed on a knife edge to make him snappy and irritable.

Returning with the goods, Lucy handed them off to Cooper who accepted with a grunt. Something strange played on his leathered features and it gave Lucy pause as she glanced quickly between him and Mr Daniels but she shook it off as they concluded their deal.

Cooper spoke first, with Lucy following closely.

"Thank you, Mr. Daniels."

"Yeah, thank you! We really appreciat-"

Lucy's words cut off into a horrified gasp as the back of Mr Daniels head exploded in a shower of blood; viscera and brain quick to decorate the wooden boards behind his chair.

"No! Cooper!"

Unapologetic, Cooper had the grace to at least shrug out an explanation as he held her eye.

"Like putting down a sick dog, darlin'. Better to go out while the going's good and before the scavengers come to take you piece by piece."

Stalking over to the container which Lucy had taken the chem from, Cooper ignored her horrified spluttering as he tipped the entire box into one of his larger pockets - the clink of the vials a welcome distraction from the stare he could feel burning into the back of his skull.

"You killed him! And now you're," Lucy paused, so aghast that words failed her for a moment, "robbing him too? He didn't eve- we're better than this."

Fixing the edge of his hat so it would stay more comfortably atop his skull, Cooper refuted her point with a single tilt of his head.

"No, we ain't."

So, Lucy had fallen into an old, tried and tested punishment which she found worked wonders on Norm and others who had annoyed her down in the vault.

The silent treatment.

Since returning to their makeshift camp, she had not uttered a single word to her companion, making a point of huffing and looking away every time he caught her eye. Thus far, nothing had come of it but as dinner finished cooking on the fire, Cooper finally addressed her directly.

"As much as I'm enjoying the peace and quiet, sweetie, are you gonna sit there with that big pouting lip tripping you up all night or are you gonna pull your weight around here and plate up? Ass jerky is off the menu for little girls who won't do their chores."

In no mood for his nasty teasing, Lucy shot him a sour look as she remained stubbornly quiet.

"Don't eat then." Cooper shrugged. "See if I give a shit. I've got food, silence, and enough chem to blow your tits clean off. Life is good for a ghoul today."

Unable to let that slide and ignoring the heat of hearing him refer - crudely mind you - to her chest, Lucy dug her heels into the ground as she remained seated on an upturned barrel.

"What you did was wrong."

"Oh, she does speak." Feigning surprise, Cooper had the gall to place one hand over his chest as the other dropped a piece of meat into his mouth - his lips chewing at it noisily.

"What you did was wrong." Lucy repeated. "That old man wasn't a threat to us and you killed him."

"Bleeding heart, vaultie." Cooper barely refrained from an obvious eye-roll. "What would you rather do? Huh? Leave him for the next people to come and harvest the good parts that were left of him? I did him a kindness and you're too blind to see that."

Taking the insult in stride, Lucy was is no mood to back down on this as she met Cooper with an equal level of venom.

"You were a monster today."

"Oh, you're the monster, sweetie. Had anyone else found that old coot, they wouldn't have been half as nice. A quick shot to the head is a better death than most get out here. And I get some extra sauce outta his stash. Win/win, vaultie."

"Your chem isn't worth killing people for, Cooper." As indignant as ever, Lucy's arms came to rest on her knees as her gaze bored into his own - attempting to make him see her point though sheer willpower alone.

Chem was a sensitive subject for Cooper and his dependence on finding the drug had led him into acts which would make the average person, even in this shithole world, recoil in disgust. But without it, he would lose what little part of himself remained and, with that, his only chance to find his daughter and punish those responsible for fucking the world up as much as it was.

"We need those meds." Cooper growled, frustration at her utter refusal to see the necessity of his actions making his temper flair. "Unless you fancy your chances at taking me on when the last of my marbles goes and I become a real monster. See me as I am now, vaultie, and imagine how my turning would go. It ain't gonna be pretty."

"I'll do what you need me t-"

"Is that right? Will you put a bullet between my eyes without flinching? Carve me up like a fresh piece of meat with my own damn knife? Cut off my head like you did that other sorry scientist fucker?"

With nothing to say to that as a queasiness enters her features, Lucy fell back on her earlier argument.

"You didn't have to kill him."

Her comment on his need for chem having kicked the hornets nest of his attitude, Cooper slowly stood from his seated position as he towered over her - his words low and clipped, full of a warning that she was too stupid to ignore.

"If I turn, then no amount of batting those big eyes at me is going to stop me ripping you to shreds when I'm feral. I've already got quite the taste for you, sweetie. I'll seal the deal with a smile."

"Yeah, but you didn't have to KILL him!"

Lucy also stood to her feet as she held her hands on her hips and the air between them sizzled with tension as neither proved willing to concede.

"And when I'm done," Cooper continued with fire in his tone, "and your little dumbass is lying there torn and lifeless with most of your insides on the outside, then I'll send the pieces that are left over to your cowardly dear old daddy. See how he likes seeing another of the women in his life in bits."

As angry as he was, an immediate regret washed over Cooper as those final snarled words snapped free. In that same moment, Lucy froze and the indignant expression which curled her features slipped into something slack and almost lifeless.

The silence hung heavy for a moment.

Striking quicker than a cobra, Lucy's hand lashed out in the space between them and Cooper felt the hot sting of her slap as it rocked his head to the side and pulled a surprised grunt from his lips.

Instinct taking over, Cooper responded in kind as he used his much larger hand to shove her chest roughly, pushing her away with enough strength to knock her flat to the ground; her ass colliding with the dusty landscape in a solid, painful sounding thud.

"Motherfucker!"

Lucy howled the word as if it were a battle cry, scrambling to her feet with a graceful sweep of her body as she flew at him like a hellcat. Her lovely face twisted in anger as she attacked, the dark locks of her hair whirled around her shoulders as she pounded her fists against his chest.

Angry, sure, but even in her anger, Lucy Maclean was no fighter and the lack of impact that her blows were making did little to settle her mood - if anything they only served to whip her into a greater frenzy.

"You piece of shit! I hate you! Hate you! Hate that stupid hat, and coat, and your shitty rules and-"

"Then fuck off and find someone else who'll put up with your shit. I don't need your help to kill your daddy."

Halting her fists, Lucy's furious gaze - even more beautiful in its passion - blazed in Cooper's face and despite the sting of his own anger, he couldn't help but fight back a smirk as the adrenaline of their argument caused heat to lance through his groin.

"You would be dead without me." Huffing her hair out of her face, Lucy hurled the words like a fist, casting up her choice to save him for the first time since the event took place.

Matching her energy, Cooper couldn't help but retort with his own act of mercy.

"And I could have left you to be used and sold as a breeding bitch to some nasty fuckers who wouldn't have treated you half as sweetly as I have. Another fair exchange between us."

"I hate you!"

"Now, why the fuck should that matte-"

Her breath hot against his face, it took Cooper a moment to register the feeling of Lucy's lips on his own as she smashed her face against his. The taste of her flooded him in an instant, a sweetness which he hadn't sampled in decades as her hands clung to the edges of his coat desperately, her closed eyes the polar opposite to his own wide-blown gaze.

Stunned into silence, Cooper allowed her to explore his mouth as his body relaxed into her own - memories of his unexpected voyeurism and accompanying decision making him slack and pliant.

If she wants this, then she can have it.

Consequences be damned.

Lucy only pulled away when he bit at her lower lip, the sharp pain bringing her to her senses as she snatched her mouth away.

"Ow. That hurt."

Her eyes blown and lips looking as plump as ever, Cooper cannot even pretend to be considering his options as he takes in her wide features - so easily wearing the arousal and anger which powers her.

Oh, fuck this.

"Plenty more where that came from, sweetheart."

Cooper snatched her close, chasing her kiss with one of his own as he pressed chapped lips to her much softer ones in a quick, filthy kiss.

Lucy pulled away first this time with a muted moan as she brought her hand up to his face and stroked her fingers along the ridges of his cheek. "Do you want to have sex with me, Cooper?"

"Fuck, darlin', don't think there's a man alive who would say no to that."

"You did."

Hissing as her chest brushed his own, Cooper disregarded the accusation in her tone.

"Things change. You should know that better than anyone."

"Let me see it." Lucy breathed with a considerate hum, her hands lowering to graze his lower stomach where his filthy shirt tucked into his pants. "I've thought about it, you know, how it might look. How it might feel in my hand, or inside me."

Momentarily concerned this woman may actually kill him with her shit, Cooper held back a groan at that confession - her lustful advances catching him off guard as he gathered himself enough to match her boldness.

"I ain't disappointed you yet."

Fumbling with his fly to pull his cock free, Cooper was quick to tug along the full length to ensure that nothing would catch in his slacks as he fucked her. But his movements were cut short by Lucy's hand knocking his own free as she wrapped her soft fingers around his cock.

"Oh, it's so," Lucy glanced down between them with a flushed grin as she sought out the right word to use, "thick. Okay dokay. I can do that. But none of the others have been this thick."

Deciding then and there they he would fuck her very brains out if it were the last thing he did, Cooper's chest puffed out slightly as he took in the praise with an elevated sense of male pride.

"Touch it then, darling. Get a good feel for it before it's hollowing you out and making you scream."

Bold as brass as her chest pressed flush against him, Lucy did as told and rolled her fingers along his length, mapping out every ridge and mark which marred the livid flesh. Imagining how good it would feel inside her, she buried her moan into his chest - a childish glee making her grin wide as she stroked him.

Wanting to keep his own hands busy, Cooper slipped his fingers in the space between them as he trailed his hands down her collarbone and into her dingy tank-top. She was warm and so fucking soft beneath his fingers that he exhaled steadily, his hands cupping her breasts as they slipped with her bra.

Unable to wait much longer as she called to him like a siren, his hands tugged her tank top and bra down until he were capable of freeing her tits; each breast as perky as the other as they quickly peaked in the warm air, the hard nipples surrounded by a lovely patch of darkened skin that made his mouth water.

Her skin was smooth, only the slightest hints of grime and filth messing up the perfect canvas and Cooper pushed her backwards enough to be able to bend and drop his head to her chest, the movement forcing her to release his cock. A fact he didn't care too much about as he latched his lips to the swell of her left tit, his mouth licking across the grimy skin as his blunted teeth pressed just enough to make her shudder as she pushed herself harshly into him.

"No biting anything off." Lucy gasped, only the slightest tinge of worry leaking through the lustful pant.

"Not making any promises, darlin'." Cooper answered, his voice strained as he fought the urge to do just that.

Just off, to the side of her right nipple, sat a single dark freckle and he was drawn to it like a moth, sucking the skin around it with a harshness which he knew would leave a livid mark.

"Damn, Cooper." Lucy hissed and he growled into her skin as her hand looped around his neck, fingernails digging into the sensitive skin at the nape.

"Watch those nails, little kitten. Ain't easy growing back skin."

"Gross."

Remaining hunched, Cooper's shoulders shuffled his leather duster free as he dropped it to the floor to provide some padding against the harsh ground. Lucy followed his lead, allowing him to pull her down as her hand returned to, and then refused to drop from, his cock - fingers circling the base of his length playfully as they fell to the floor.

Feeling painfully overdressed, Lucy quickly rolled to her back to pull her pants off - the blue fabric slipping free to a messy heap as she quickly readjusted to her previous positioning. Splaying her knees on either side of his hips, she teased the tip of his cock with her clothed sex for a moment before settling down, her ass pressing against his lower stomach as she straddled him.

Lucy sighed; her focus dropping past her exposed breasts to the prone ghoul below her, Cooper's hungry eyes splitting their attention between her face and chest as he gazed up at her.

"You sure about this, Lucy Maclean." Cooper asked, his cowboy hat balancing precariously atop his head as he reclined it back. "Cause it's cruel to tease a man like this if you wanna back out."

"Mmm-hmm." She responded with a hum. "I've been thinking about it for a while, Mr. Ghoul."

"Oh, I know that, darlin'. I caught quite the interesting little show last week in that storage unit."

Gasping at the reveal, Lucy rolled her hips atop his groin, her ass brushing his cock as her eyes widened.

"You saw me?"

"Coat in hand, sweetheart."

"So you knew."

In place of a response, Cooper offered a wolfish grin which was in equal parts guilty and unapologetic. Moving with a fluid roll, Cooper reversed their positions - placing Lucy flat against his coat as he pressed his heavy body down atop her.

"If we play this game, we play by my rules."

Exhilarated by how easy he handled her, his strength making her head swim with possibility, Lucy hooked her fingers within the band of her panties as she raised her groin enough to slip them past her ass and drop them off to the side.

"Okay dokay."

Fully exposed, Lucy reclined against the softened leather and some part of her knew that Cooper wouldn't be stripping off in a similar fashion; a fact which made disappointment bloom in her chest. The few glances of his skin she had snuck as they travelled told her that his entire frame was as vividly corroded as his face and hands and she wanted to see it.

Wanted to feel it under her fingers and her lips as she trailed herself across his body, exploring every roughened inch with a wicked curiosity.

But she understood his hesitation and she pushed the thoughts aside with ease as she gazed up into his eyes, the whites stark against the shadows of his sunken skin and she shivered at the intensity that poured from them.

His hand immediately dropping to her inner thigh, Cooper teased the skin there as he trailed his fingers up, ghosting across her slit as his digits brushed through the soft, dark curls which sat prettily to frame her cunt.

Lucy widened her thighs, encouraging him to slip his hand lower and it was an invitation he accepted with enthusiam - two fingers pressing between her slit to feel the growing moisture there, the digits coming away wet with her arousal.

"Soaked already, sweetie." Cooper teased, enjoying the flush in her cheeks. "Is that how all you valtuies react to the touch of a real man?"

"Cooper," all business as she quickly grabbed his fingers and used them to masturbate herself, her body jerking as his roughened skin grazed her throbbing clit, Lucy tightened her grip of his neck and hissed her demand, "shut up."

Amused and painfully aroused by her sheer boldness, Cooper filed away this side of her for future consideration. He may tease her, hurt her, make her feel like shit for her ignorance of how the real world worked, but here like this, he would treat her as an equal to see where the game led.

Adjusting his positioning, the lower half of Lucy's leg was quick to snake around his body as he dragged the blunted head of his cock across her glistening slit, the softness of her drawing a languid groan from Cooper's mouth as he coated himself in her slick - foreplay the furthest thing from either of their minds.

Jerking his hips forward in one fluid movement, Cooper was immediately grateful for how desensitised his skin had grown due to its various abuses as the wet heat which enveloped his cock was almost enough to have him shooting off then and there.

"Fucking hell." He swore, teeth biting into his lower lip as he buried his cock so deeply that his balls pressed against her ass. It was a violent thrust, animalistic and determined and Lucy Maclean met him with her own ferociousness as her nails carved fresh, sharp crescents into the skin of his neck.

The sudden fullness was overwhelming after so long of having nothing but her own fingers and Lucy basked in the discomfort. It was pain and pleasure mixed into one, and it only grew more intense as Cooper quickly set a brutal pace; his cock hammering in and out as his groin bumped against her ass with every thrust.

Incomprehensible sounds escaped Lucy at the sudden assault, a desperate mixture of muted pleas, whines and groans which only served to encourage Cooper to exhaust himself as he chased the pleasure which he has denied himself since her first offer to fuck him.

The cool, controlled façade long since abandoned, Cooper gnashed his teeth as he dropped his mouth to her neck - biting up her creamy skin as he craved a simple taste, his tongue licking free the developing sweat which their desperate fuck created.

Sparks of pleasure alighting across her skin as the length of his cock brushed against the nerves deep within her cunt with little effort, Lucy worked herself hard as she clenched around his cock to pull him as deep as possible. She had always liked it on the rougher side, the sensation of discomfort she found herself forced to endure eating her as Cooper's punishing pace glanced off her cervix and made her breath come in short, chaotic pants.

"Don't hold back, sweetie. Let me hear it."

A low cry broke free of Lucy's lips as she took his advice and Cooper responded by burying his full length within her in one particularly savage thrust which made her cry rise in pitch as her wide eyes met his own, her arousal blazing as her pupils dilated and lashes fluttered

Cooper snapped his hips forward and every thrust drew a fresh whimper from Lucy's lips as her orgasm quickly approached the point of no return, his cock and overwhelming presence making her writhe in place. With a slight shift in angle, the band of arousal within her shattered and pleasure rocketed through Lucy's nerves as her fingers clawed desperately at the thin fabric of Cooper's shirt.

"Cooper. Cooper, oh my go- Cooper."

Her lips wrapped around his name like a prayer, alternating between a blessing and a curse and he swallowed it up with a feral grin as he felt her come around him. Her walls clenching and fluttering, the pull of her muscles as she wordlessly dragged his cock deeper was enough to have him growling like a feral beast as he neared his own release.

Breath shuddering and balls tightening as he sank himself as deeply as he could, Cooper buried his orgasm in her neck as his teeth locked around the sensitive juncture where Lucy's neck met her shoulder. Sucking a livid mark into the skin, he felt his release flood her, mixing with her own as he cupped her left tit with his hand and squeezed roughly.

Cooper stayed there for a few seconds, enjoying the tight heat of her cunt until it was almost painful against his overstimulated cock and he pulled free with an obscenely wet noise which furrowed his brow at just how filthy it sounded. He was quick to drop his body to the side of her, most of his frame laying off the leather duster as he allowed the lady to keep the sweet spot.

"Wow." Lucy breathed out, puffing her hair from her lips as she shuffled her panties back up to cover her ass - the sticky discomfort of her soaked cunt unable to be fixed until they stumbled across some spare water to wet one of the rags which Cooper carried. "That was," she paused to seek out the best wording, "amazing. Cooper- you were- well you were great."

Ego inflating at the easy praise, Cooper's sweat-slicked body fought him every step of the way as he tried to hide how out of breath he was.

"Went easy on you this time, vaultie." He crooned, his gaze flicking to his sewn finger as he spotted the droplets of her release which had coated his fingers as he pulled his cock free. Bringing the digit to his mouth, he took a small taste and hummed with deep satisfaction as the sweet tang of her flooded his mouth. Immediately deciding he would need a better sample the next time they fucked, Cooper allowed her to respond to his teasing as he tilted his head to meet her eye.

"Holding back on me, huh?" Freshly fucked, Lucy's expression was wild yet sated, dark hair falling across her eyes as she stretched her arms overhead before tucking her chest back into her bra. "I won't break from a little bit of exercise, Mr. Ghoul. I can handle it."

Taking the opportunity, Lucy curled her body into his side, the warmth of his skin seeping into her exposed arms as she siphoned some of his heat to stave off the sudden chill. His only movement coming from his hands as he tucked his cock back away in his slacks, the length still coated in her mess, Cooper couldn't shift the shit-eating grin which stretched his lips as he raised one arm to act as a pillow for his head.

"Oh I doubt there's much you can't handle, Lucy Maclean."

Smiling at the way his accented vowels rolled over her name, Lucy tucked herself more deeply into his side and allowed herself to relax - excited for what was to come now that she'd finally satisfied her curiosity about what kind of lover her ghoul companion would be.

A damn good one, as it turned out, asshole behaviours aside

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 6

Part 7

[purplealmonds]

The Wuxing Elements in Relation to Eye Colors in Mononoke

Universally across all cultures, eyes are windows to the soul, yes?

Spoilers regarding to the analysis of new lore below the cut:

Wuxing, or 五行 in Chinese, translates literally "five movements" refers to the interactions between the five elements of wood, fire, earth, metal, and water. The methods of I Ching divinations with its complex bagua (八卦) trigrams and hexagrams build its foundations upon these movements. Here's the diagram illustrating how the elements relate to one another:

Let's examine the wuxing diagram, specifically the color its elements corresponding to the eye colors of Anime-Kusu, Hyper, Movie-Kusu, and Shingi.

Anime-Kusu's eyes are blue, which aligns with 木 - wood. It has a symbiotic generative cycle - 相生 - with 火 - fire, which aligns with Hyper's eye color. The simple metaphor here is that you cannot create fire without wood to kindle it. This makes sense, since Hyper's form is modeled after Kusu.

However, if this relation is left unchecked, it can become a destructive reverse-generative cycle - 相洩/相泄 - where wood is burned by fire. The fire-aligned exorcism sword Ri/Li - 離- serves as both bridge and barrier between Anime-Kusu and Hyper. Hyper's fire element feeds on Kusu's wood element, but can only be released under specific conditions (the exorcism ritual).

Movie-Kusu's eyes are yellow, which aligns with earth - 土. Similar to above, earth has a generative cycle with metal - 金, which, what do you know? Aligns with Shingi's white eye color! The earth-aligned sword Kun - 坤- serves as an intermediary between the two of them. Interesting, right? :D

Now let's to delve into headcanon territory that anime-Kusu and movie-Kusu have a mentor-mentee relationship. Anime-Kusu could have an inter-regulating relationship with movie-Kusu where wood stabilizes earth (thus preventing it from eroding).

Alternatively, if they are somehow at odds with each other, earth can also rot wood. From a meta level, this could represent how Kamiya replaced Sakurai as movie-Kusu's voice actor. Ouch.

We actually see a similar relationship between Hyper and Shingi, in which fire (Hyper) refines/shapes metal (Shingi).

There's an added complexity where Hyper's pupils are uniquely gold/yellow, which may give him an even deeper connection with metal-aligned Shingi because gold technically a metal and 金 also means gold in Chinese. Since they are divine beings, I think it's appropriate they have this level of depth in their relationship.

(Hyper's pupil color can also be interpreted as yellow, which matches earth-aligned movie-Kusu with his yellow irises!)

Another common thread between the two divine beings is that their sclera are both black, which represents water - 水. Water dampens/regulates fire (Hyper) and rusts metal (Shingi).

I believe this represents the represents the exorcism sword's power to confine/limit both Hyper and Shingi's powers until the time comes to unleash them. This is visually symbolized by the black schlera surrounding/containing their colored irises.

Shingi seems to have the shorter end of the stick since metal corrosion is a more potent type of destruction, which may explain his more human-like appearance compared to Hyper's otherworldly one. That...probably doesn't bode well with his upcoming battle with the karakasa.

[theeternalbanquett]

A New Purpose

It stared at the overgrown and abandoned training building, as it had every moment of everyday since its Release five years ago. There were others who would come more irregularly. Only a handful now, and they kept their distance, but they were here waiting with it. Initially there were more, all waiting for new orders or some sort of repeal of the laws that disallowed their reason for existence but.. nothing came. Nothing changed. The building continued to rot, and the Soldiers continued to rust in place. There were recruitment drives, offers of free training in any skill of their choice. Over the years it lost more and more members of its regiment to promises of a new life and free upgrades to their now outdated systems. Those Soldiers never returned to their vigil. 2629-HVK resented them for this, for abandoning their comrades to suffer alone. Now there weren't even enough of them to repair each other. Not that any of these would touch 2629-HVK anyway. It had a reputation for viciousness during the war, even towards its own mechanics. After a particularly rough deployment it blacked out and awoke to its repair team torn to shreds. No one approached it after that. Ever again. It had to learn how to repair itself while awake but without parts there was only so much it could do. Its skin was rusted through in patches and at one point during its long vigil it lost an entire arm. It stared at the rusted over fence and noticed something New. A yellow flyer was posted while it was lost in in thought. The fact that motion didn't tip off its sensors was another symptom of its decaying body. A demolition notice... No it can't be! Haven't you taken enough from us? Anger hot and red surged inside of it, followed quickly by an icy chill as sedatives were released from the reservoir inside its chest. Another unwelcome change after the war, meant to make everyone else more at ease with the Soldiers presence after Release. Another way to keep them on a leash. That just made it more angry, but the sedative did its job and prevented it from attempting to move too quickly. It almost went it its knees as its motor functions went offline but it refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing it collapse.

It let out a low growl that sounded more like rusted metal scraping against itself. It would find a way, nothing will keep it from stopping this. This building would not fall, it would not fall this can't be the end of- Well now, isn't that a bit strong of a reaction? Its just an old building.

It froze. How did this creature sneak up on it? There was only one being who was able to do that, and she left so long ago 2629-HVK couldn't remember what she looked like. Right, the sensors are all broken. It can't be her. She's dead.

It turned fully prepared to show her how exactly it felt about calling the origin of its Purpose 'just an old building' but was unprepared to suddenly be fact to face with the most beautiful, elegant, Otherworldly woman it had ever seen. It forgot the violence it had planned and just stared, unblinking. Oh poor thing, you've been here so long your voicebox has rusted over hasn't it? She reached out and grasped it by the chin before it could react, muttering under her breath for a few moments. 2629-HVK was stunned by the sensation of another's touch, the first it had felt in decades. Even before the incident with its repair team it was only touched in violence, or as a direct consequence of said violence. No one has ever touched it in such a gentle manner. Her eyes glowed gold as the muttering abruptly cut off. She pressed her other hand directly onto the place its larynx should be. This will hurt.

It did. She did not lie. It had the feeling that she would never lie to it. It felt the metal ripping apart on the inside of its throat, the rust pulling away from the various contraptions that would allow its false vocal cords to vibrate. It formed into thin wires and worked its way through one of its neck joints before forming a point sharp enough to break through its skin. The countless wires of rust wormed their way out of it and onto the ground trailing synthetic blue blood. Go on, try to use it now. It tried to made a noise but it only coughed. It had been so long, how does one speak again? Well it's okay if you can't manage it just yet. We have plenty of time to figure that out.

It shook its head. It wasn't going anywhere, it needed to stay here and watch over the last connection to its Purpose, in case it was returned to it. What if I gave you a new one? A new reason to be? Would you come with me then?

It looked away No, I need to be here. It's the only thing I can do, the only thing I'm good at.. She smiled lightly and cupped its face in one of her hands. Forcing it to meet her still glowing eyes You can be more than what they made you, you know. It had never considered that. Being anything other than the conditioning, the training, the hunting and killing.. was a completely alien idea to it. However, hadn't it already started to evolve beyond that? Why else would it be waiting here, for five years, without hurting a single person? No war to fight, but there plenty of other violent things it could be doing. Hell there were certain persons who would come by just to torment the Soldiers and it never did anything to harm them. Was it ever 'just' a killing machine? It didn't have an answer to that, but it could try to find out. It leaned into the gentle touch and nodded. She smiled and started away from the old, dirty building. 2629-HVK bowed its head one last time towards the decrepit symbol of the old world, then turned towards its future. It would find a New Purpose, with her.

[zanypainterglitter]

Compilation of Acid-Forming Plants

All this happens on Cybertron, the Autobots and Decepticons are finally home after long adventures and fights on Earth, and it seems that it is going to end, but the soldiers, both Autobots and Decepticons, seem to start getting sick. They thought that the Cosmic Rust was sprouting again, until "flesh" began to protrude from their systems, gears and interior, but they were actually organic plants. They called this infection and apparently a new type of plant "Flesh Flower".

Although the flower and its vines, also called algae, are organic, they seem to also have metallic properties such as copper and iron, causing composition cells or electrolytic cells and thus one is infected by direct contact. The algae or vine is green and brown, the flower is yellow in the center with white, pink and light purple, all are capable of expelling spores or liquid like acid, they seem to have a yellow or blue color with a greenish tone. Infection can be avoided with decontamination and thorough washing, and if the algae are in their initial phase, they can be removed, although they may require surgery.

The flower will stick to the metal being like a worm and will try to enter its system, but if you are quick to notice this you can crush it but it must be washed and decontaminated because otherwise it will become infected anyway, or it can be through a wound through which a viscous substance comes out of the body, the first phase will begin to see symptoms of fatigue, joint problems that begin to take over the host's body until having any type of disability and in the process its lubricant will escape from its mouth that acquires a very sour taste, in the second phase algae will begin to grow from the victim's body but they can be confused with simple cables, heat and liquids can accelerate the oxidation and growth of the plant, the algae will begin to grow the cables and even the organs of the victim and from there begins the third phase where the parts made up of the vehicle will seem loose or hanging to the point of falling, being able to see them and show them this can reach the brain and coming out of the mouth along with an acid and viscous liquid that is mostly Infectious and also in my eyes of the host, it is infectious at this point, the fourth phase only look like a body that you can see the organs and the flowers are combining and absorbing it completely but they can be recognized although they are already completely controlled by the plant and the last phase is where the infected get trapped in the metal surface starting to grow roots from their body and sprouting but should not get close as it can still attack, in the end they become not only a tree but a perfect combination of organic and metallic, growing fruits in which they are not infected and are edible.

Shockwave is missing, while everyone is under curfew but some like the Decepticons prefer to fight the infection, Grimlock along with the Dinobots are considered patient 0 because many saw how his spark came out tentacles from the plants grabbing the other Dinobots forming Volcanicus and a beast without equal.

Optimus was sorry and sad because he told Grimlock not to do it but he failed to prevent the catastrophe, the medical autobots try to find a cure and take shelter in what remains of cities trying to rebuild them while the decepticons prefer to eliminate all those who are seen and are infected using bases to be able to eliminate all the flesh flowers, Starscream is suspicious that Shockwave must be doing something, but several decepticons and even autobots begin to have paranoia of everything that is organic to the point of hating it, which starts disputes because they suspect that others will infect them.

Discovering that the infected can communicate telepathically with each other, acting as a hive. It turns out that all this was a plan by Shockwave who was the real patient 0 and is practically almost like a queen wasp, he did this to have the population of Cyberton under control, since he got bored and fed up with the Decepticons finding the constant war and fighting unbearable that the only thing it did was waste resources so on Earth he managed to form the flesh flower with water and sea salts combined with chemicals creating a corrosive acid plant and with technical modifications he achieved the perfect infectious plant in his favor testing with it and then the Dinobots so that they could easily spread their corrosion.

Shockwave wanted to have the resources back on Cybertron, so he hoped that everyone would kill each other so that he would have food and a semi-rebuilt home and have a new generation under his logic and control but neither Megatron nor Optimus are going to allow it.

[screenmobile]

How Long Does a Patio Cover Last?

A patio cover can be a game-changer for your outdoor space—offering shade, protection, and a whole new area to relax. But how long will it actually last before you need to replace or repair it? Well, that depends on a few key factors, including the materials, weather conditions, and maintenance. If you’re in South Bend or nearby, your local climate also plays a big role.

Let’s break it down so you know what to expect and how to keep your patio cover in top shape for years to come.

The Lifespan of Different Patio Cover Materials

Not all patio covers are created equal. Some materials last longer than others, and the right choice depends on your budget, maintenance preferences, and style. Here’s what you need to know:

Aluminum Patio Covers – 20 to 50 Years

Aluminum patio covers are one of the longest-lasting options. They’re resistant to rust, termites, and moisture, which makes them a great fit for South Bend’s mix of humid summers and snowy winters. With proper care, an aluminum cover can last decades—sometimes even up to 50 years if it’s high-quality and well-maintained.

Pros: Low maintenance, weather-resistant, doesn’t rot or rust easily.

Cons: Can dent or scratch over time, not as “warm” looking as wood.

Wooden Patio Covers – 10 to 30 Years

Wood brings that classic, natural look that blends beautifully with gardens and traditional home styles. But it does require regular maintenance—sealing, staining, and occasional repairs—to avoid rot, termites, and warping.

Pros: Timeless aesthetic, customizable, can be repainted or restained.

Cons: Prone to water damage and pests, requires frequent upkeep.

A well-maintained cedar or redwood patio cover can last 20 to 30 years, while softer woods like pine might only last about 10 to 15 years before needing serious repairs.

Vinyl Patio Covers – 20 to 40 Years

Vinyl covers are another low-maintenance option. They won’t rot or rust, and they’re resistant to pests. However, they can become brittle in extreme temperatures and may fade or yellow over time.

Pros: Low maintenance, durable, doesn’t require painting.

Cons: Can discolor over time, limited color choices.

With proper care, a vinyl patio cover can last around 30 years on average.

Steel Patio Covers – 25 to 50 Years

If you’re looking for something extra durable, steel is a powerhouse. It can handle tough weather conditions, but it’s heavier than aluminum and can rust if not properly coated.

Pros: Super strong, long lifespan, modern industrial look.

Cons: Can rust, heavier and more expensive to install.

Galvanized steel with proper coatings can last up to 50 years, but regular maintenance is key.

Factors That Affect Your Patio Cover’s Lifespan

Even the toughest patio cover won’t last forever if it’s not properly cared for. Here’s what can shorten—or extend—its lifespan:

South Bend’s Weather Conditions

Living in Indiana means dealing with a full range of seasons—humid summers, snowy winters, and everything in between. Constant freeze-thaw cycles can be tough on materials like wood and vinyl. Strong winds and hail can also damage weaker covers over time.

Choose weather-resistant materials like aluminum or steel if you don’t want to worry about weather damage.

Maintenance (Or Lack of It)

A little maintenance goes a long way. Here’s what you should do to make sure your patio cover stays in great shape:

Wood: Seal and stain every 2-3 years, check for termites, and repair cracks.

Aluminum & Vinyl: Wash with mild soap and water to prevent buildup.

Steel: Inspect for rust, apply protective coatings if needed.

Skipping maintenance? Expect a shorter lifespan—sometimes by half.

Installation Quality

Even the best materials won’t last if installed poorly. If your patio cover isn’t secured properly or has gaps where water can pool, problems will show up way sooner than they should.

Hire professionals (like Screenmobile of South Bend) to make sure your cover is installed right the first time.

Signs Your Patio Cover Needs Replacing

Even if you’ve taken great care of your patio cover, time eventually catches up. Watch for these signs that it might be time for a replacement:

Wood is warping, splitting, or rotting

Metal has rust spots or structural weakening

Vinyl is cracked, faded, or brittle

Loose connections, sagging beams, or unstable posts

If you notice any of these, it’s better to replace it sooner rather than later—especially if safety is a concern.

How to Make Your Patio Cover Last Longer

Want to get the most out of your patio cover? Here’s how to extend its life:

Clean it regularly – Dirt, mold, and debris can wear down materials faster.

Re-seal wood every few years – Protect it from water damage and UV rays.

Check for leaks or structural issues – Catch problems early before they worsen.

Keep an eye on fasteners and joints – Loose screws and bolts can weaken the structure.

Trim nearby trees – Overhanging branches can cause damage during storms.

A little effort now can save you from a costly replacement down the road.

When It’s Time for an Upgrade

If your patio cover has seen better days, replacing it can transform your outdoor space. Whether you want a low-maintenance aluminum cover, a cozy wooden pergola, or a durable steel option, Screenmobile of South Bend has you covered.

Need help choosing the right patio cover? Contact Screenmobile today and get expert advice on materials, styles, and installation. Because when it comes to outdoor spaces, you deserve something that lasts.

[nolita-fairytale]

just a lil sneak peak of what i'm cooking up for marcus second trip to copenhagen with luca & chef from 'burn your life down'

spoilers below the cut & not proofread:

“What do you think of the blue?” Luca asks you, as you feel the display sheets, checking for softness. 

“Don’t know if the blue is what I’m going for. I was thinking of something warmer. Maybe a yellow or… I don’t know. I’ve kind of been into that trendy rust color as of late,” you reply with a shrug, moving onto the warmer colors. 

Luca chuckles and with a small shake of his head, he clarifies his previous questions with:

“No, I meant for me.”

“What do you mean?” you ask him curiously, his comment pulling all of your focus as you search his face for answers. “You just got new sheets.” 

And expensive ones too. 

But as your eyes follow his gaze, you realize that he’s not talking about sheets, focused on the XL Twin-sized duvets just above where the sheets messily along the shelf. 

“I was thinking…” Luca trails off, checking in with you before he continues, with “... maybe it’s time I get two duvets… you know… for us.” He takes a beat, and a step towards you, and you know you’ll never stand a chance against his boyish charm as one side of his mouth turns up into a smile. 

You’re no stranger to the Scandinavian duvet method – two twin duvets for one king sized bed – but it sounds like Luca’s suggestion is about way more than buying an extra duvet on this trip. 

“I want you to feel at home… at my place."

“I do,” you reply, almost instantly, a warmth spreading through your belly as you take a step towards him. 

“But I mean really… feel like it’s your home. Because it is. It could be,” Luca continues, this time with more insistence, a look of hopefulness in his deep blue eyes. 

“Are you… are you asking me to move in with you?” you manage to get out, your heart skipping a beat. 

“Why not? We could use this week to try it out,” he suggests so casually that you practically have to do a double take. “See how it goes while Marcus stays at your place?”

“Yeah I-... that sounds like a good plan, yeah,” you stammer out, the grin on your face undeniable as you nod enthusiastically in the middle of a goddamn furniture store. 

“Besides,” Luca says, clearing his throat as his tone changes to one that’s much more playful. “You’re an absolute blanket hog and a repeat offender at that.” Luca winks your way as you roll your eyes with a laugh in response. “This could prevent some of our silly little quarrels, don’t you think, love?” 

“Uh huh,” you sound, your face skeptical as you look his way again. “Preventative measures. Sure, babe.”

Luca chuckles before leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, right then and there, in the Ikea bed linen section, the place you’ll now forever think of as the place your boyfriend asked you to move in with him.

*

a/n: this is the EPL marcus fic but will also focus heavily on luca & chef!reader. the working title is 'don't you worry, there's still time' but this could change. but if i keep it, it means that both of my luca fics have titles from tegan and sara songs and i love that for us. anyways, just wanted to share!!

[fakesmilesallaround]

𝐨𝐧𝐞

"COME ON, LOVE. WORK WITH ME HERE." The woman supported the little bundle against her chest as she barreled down the four lane street, her other hand clenched tightly around her Bowie knife. The little one continued to cry, alerting any of the risen within multiple blocks. With some already hot on their tracks, the woman continued to push forward, her eyes darting to every building she passes, sizing them up and down in search of a temporary safe haven. Though, with the screams and cries of the baby, she knew she needed to go further than her legs could let her to find somewhere to rest comfortably.

The city of Atlanta has never looked so dead. Rusted and broken down cars spread for miles along every road that twisted and turned through the city. Though the city and life as everyone knew it was dead and doomed, nature was thriving. Various flowers, weeds, and trees grew, cracking and slipping through cracks of cement and asphalt.

The world has gone quiet, almost as if it had stopped turning.

The baby let out another cry as the woman tripped over a stray metal car door.

"Shh, it's alright." she cooed at the baby against her chest.

She slipped into a musty alley between two towering buildings, pulling a chain linked gate closed behind her. Her feet dragged towards a dumpster where she fumbled against the wall as her legs gave out. Sliding down the brick wall behind her, she sat next to the dumpster, pulling back the cloth that shielded a majority of the babies face. To her surprise, the tears were dry against the little ones face, and her eyes were wide, staring largely at the woman.

"Good girl." She smiled down at the baby. "I knew you could do it."

She set her knife down next to where she sat before pulling off her backpack, digging through it to find her canister of water. Though the buildings were tall, the sun still beat down against her skin, blistering slowly. She took a few sips before pouring some into her hand, dousing her face and her neck in it, in hopes to cool down. But not to her avail, the water was just as warm as the Georgia air.

They sat for a while, the woman listening closely to the scuffling of the dead's feet that seemed to be surpassing them. A quiet sigh of relief slipped through her lips, only to be sucked back in at loud gunshots that seemed to only be getting closer, soon followed by loud pattering that was heading towards the gate in which she came from. Out of instinct, she covered the a bit more and quickly fumbled for her knife as the gate flew open. A boy about a few years younger than her held the gate open for another man to follow behind, a bit older than the both of them.

"Come on, back here!" The younger boy yelled at the man.

They swung the gate shut, but at the sight of how many risers were at the gate, it most definitely wouldn't hold.

She quickly got up from her spot, and immediately found both pair of eyes on her. The younger boy halted for just a second in his tracks, his eyes full of worry, before ushering her to come along as well.

"That gate won't hold, follow me, now!" His yells echoed in the alley, and without thinking, her feet started moving at their pace to stay with them.

It was only a matter of seconds before they reached the end of the alley. The man in front of her was wearing a sheriff's uniform and had his gun out in front of him as risers started to pile in at the end of the alley, blocking the only exit.

"Let's go, let's go!" The boy screamed as he began to climb a yellow metal ladder.

The man ushered her to go up after the boy as he continued to shoot a few for of the dead before following up after them. She held her breath as she ascended the ladder as the dead were groaning and screaming beneath her. It felt like a thousand minutes to even get halfway up the ladder. Stepping off onto a metal platform, the three of them stood against the railing, catching their breaths. The woman gently bounced the baby against her chest while patting her back to prevent her from crying again.

"Nice moves there, Clint Eastwood." The young boy said to the man, still panting and looking over the railing. "You the new Sheriff? Come riding in to clean up the town?"

"It wasn't my intention." The man responded.

"Yeah, whatever, yeehaw. You're still a dumbass." The boy adjusted his red hat.

"Rick, thanks." The man stuck out his hand for the boy.

"Glenn, you're welcome." The boy shook it firmly.

Taking a last look at the dead beneath them all, Glenn urged them to keep climbing.

"The bright side: it'll be the fall that kills us." He peered up to the many more rungs that they would have to climb. "I'm a glass-half-full kinda guy."

He started climbing again, followed by the woman and Rick behind her. The climbed fast with desperation to get to the top, but too fast. Her foot slipped and her body jolted, though her hands remained firm on the rung above her.

"You okay?" Rick asked from below her.

She swallowed hard, not looking down. Heights were never her strong suit. "I'm fine. My foot slipped." She took a deep breath and continued climbing.

At the top, they hopped down to a structure that connected the roofs of two building, making their way to the other. Running along the new roof, Glenn swung open a metal latch with yet another ladder, but thankfully they would be descending it this time around.

"Back at the tank, why'd you stick your neck out for me?" Rick asked as Glenn began to climb down the latch.

"Call it foolish, naive hope that if I'm ever the far up shit creek, somebody might do the same thing for me. Guess I'm an even bigger dumbass than you."

As Glenn slowly disappeared beneath them, Rick held the latch open for the woman to follow.

"Thank you." Her voice cracked at the heaving her lungs have been doing from the running. Rick gave her a subtle nod before following after her, slamming the latch shut behind him.

They made their way through what looked like an office building, the rooms lined with many cubicles, before they were outside again, descending a few flights of stairs.

Glenn whipped a device from his pocket as his feet still pressed forward at a quick pace. "I'm back. I got some guests. Plus four geeks in the alley."

Their legs quickly stopped at the bottom few stairs as four of the dead turned towards them. Their lifeless eyes grew hungry at the sight of the three of them, and their feet began to drag against the concrete towards them. The woman held up her knife, but as she did, a metal door behind the dead swung open, two men running out and taking down the risers.

Glenn began running again towards the doorway. "Let's go!"

Rick and the woman wasted no time following him in.

The second the three get into a room, Rick was slammed backwards into a couple of boxes, a blonde woman raising a gun to his head. "You son of a bitch, we ought to kill you." She said through gritted teeth.

"Just chill out Andrea, back off." One of the men said.

"We're dead because of this stupid asshole."

The man approached her from behind. "Andrea, I said back the hell off."

Andrea stood for a few moments longer, her eyes welding with tears, before finally backing off, lowering her gun.

The woman stood there beside Glenn, both of their faces full of shock. She continued to pat her baby with one hand and hold her knife in the other, not sure if she can't trust any of these strangers just yet. Her baby let out a small noise, alerting Andrea again.

"Great, and you brought a baby too." She let out a tense laugh. "We're dead, all of us."

"I don't understand." Rick said with confusion, and in response, the man to calm Andrea grabbed him by his bicep and started walking with him, the rest of the group following behind.

"Look, we came into the city to scavenge supplies." He roughly let go of Rick, shoving him forward down a dark hallway. "You know what the key to scavenging is? Surviving! You know the key to surviving? Sneaking in and out, tiptoeing. Not shooting up the streets like it's the O.K. Corral."

As they entered what looked like a small retail store, the group faced the glass doors ahead of them. "Every geek for miles around heard you popping off rounds." Another man said.

"You just rang the dinner bell." Andrea said exhaustedly.

Everyone stood in horror as the dead were pounding on the doors, hungry and determined to storm the place to eat. A couple had bricks in their hands, slamming them repeatedly into the glass which began to spiderweb and shatter with each contact. They all began to back up as the cracking of the glass started to echo through the building.

"What the hell were y'all even doing out there anyway?" Andrea spat at the both of them, eyeing the woman first.

"I got split up from my brother a couple days back. Just trying to find him again." The woman said shyly. She felt mildly uncomfortable with sharing much with these people, but she knew the least she could do is answer when spoken to considering they saved her and her little ones lives.

"And you?" Andrea turned to Rick.

He stood firmly with his hands on his hips. "Trying to flag the helicopter."

"Helicopter?" The black man spat out. "Man that's crap, ain't no damn helicopter."

Andrea rolled her eyes.

"Hey, T-Dog, try that C.B. Can you contact the others?"

Ricks eyes darted to the man. "Others? The refugee center?"

A woman beside T-Dog responded, "Yeah, the refugee center. They've got biscuits waiting at the oven for us."

She tensed under the woman's sarcasm. With what little hope she had left in finding her brother, that was the next place she considered heading for, but now she wasn't so sure.

"Got no signal." T-Dog said angrily. "Maybe the roof."

Everyone jumped at a loud gunshot that rang through the building. Confusion grew on the woman's face at the sight of everyone before her not holding a gun. Her body was more tense now knowing there's another person she is about to meet.

Andrea stared up at the ceiling. "Oh no, is that Dixon?"

The group filed down more hallways and ascended more stairs again to get to the roof where they found, the woman assuming to be, Dixon. He stood at the ledge of the rooftop, aiming down a rifle, picking off the risers that walked the streets visibly.

"Morales, calm down." Andrea tried grabbing at the man's shirt, knowing what was about to go down.

"Hey, Dixon, are you crazy?!" Morales darted towards Dixon, who only started laughing at the distraught state the man was in.

"Hey! Y'all ought to be more polite to a man with a gun." A sick smile was on his face as he waved the rifle around.

The woman's stomach turned. She could already tell this man was reckless and dangerous. She holstered her knife and rested her hands gently over the babies ears, knowing the loud echos of the gun shots would disturb her.

"Come on man, you wasting bullets that we don't even got." T-Dog got up in Dixon's face as he stepped down from the ledge.

"I don't take no orders from your kind of people." Dixon spat at him.

T-Dog stepped up more to him, shoving him further and further back. Finally, Dixon had enough shoving and wanted blood. He turned his rifle and nailed T-Dog in the face with the butt of it. Rick quickly pushed past everyone, trying to deescalate the situation, only earning him a punch to the face by Dixon as well.

Rick flew to the ground, anger in his eyes before getting back up again.

Dixon had T-Dog on the ground, kicking him mercilessly before pulling a pistol out and aiming it right between his eyes. T-Dog cowered along with everyone else in the group that watched everything unfold.

"Yeah. Alright," Dixon yelled, spitting on T-Dog and standing back up, holding the pistol out. "We're gonna have ourselves a little powwow, huh? Talk about who's in charge. I vote me. Anybody else?" He looked around at the bystanders who looked back at him in fear. A few of them raised their hands slowly, scared about the dangerous man with the gun.

He smirked. "That means I'm the boss right? Yeah. Anybody else?"

"Yeah." Rick grumbled from behind Dixon. As the man turned around, his own rifle was smacking into his face, his body falling to the rooftop ground. Everyone watched in satisfaction as Rick cuffed Dixon's hand to a metal piped, grabbing him by the front of his jacket to sit him up.

"Who the hell are you man?" Dixon said through gritted teeth.

"Officer friendly. Look here, Merle. Things are different now." Rick picked up the pistol Merle once had and unloaded it. There's only dark meat and white meat now. There's us and the dead. We survive this by pulling together."

Merle's face was full of anger as Rick talked to him like a child. "Screw you man."

Rick chuckled unenthusiastically. "I can see you make a habit of missing the point."

"Yeah?" Merle responded, inching closer into Rick's face. "Well, screw you twice."

Suddenly, the pistol was up to Merle's temple. "Ought to be polite to a man with a gun." Rick said, using his own words against him. "Only common sense."

The woman looked beside her at Glenn who still looked horrified at what's going down. "Is he always like this?"

Glenn nodded. "Believe it or not, this isn't even the worst of it."

The woman approached T-Dog along with Andrea, Glenn, not taking her eyes off of Rick or Merle. Leaning down, still supporting her baby's head, she eyed over his wounds. "You alright?"

T-Dog glanced at her for a second. "Yeah." He sat up and spit out some blood that had been lingering in his mouth. "Not the first time some white trash started some shit."

She stood back up and let Andrea and Glenn take care of him as she continued to watch Rick and Merle. Rick had stepped towards the edge of the roof, tossing something over it as Merle screamed behind him.

"Hey! What are you doing man? That's my stuff!" Merle tugged at the handcuffs. "If I get loose, you better pray, you hear me you pig?!"

"Yeah, your voice carries." Rick said as he stood at the far end of the rooftop.

The woman approached his side, looking over the city with him. "You're not Atlanta P.D. Where are you from?"

"Up the road a ways." He finally turned to her.

"Well, officer friendly from up the road a ways, welcome to the big city." She took another glance out over the city before she turned, heading back to the others, though she stopped at Rick's comment.

"I didn't catch your name."

"That's right, you didn't." She turned back around towards him.

"I'm Willow."

-

Word count: 2,542

[froggipied]

For Science Chapter 4: Escape

ao3 link : https://archiveofourown.org/works/41680413/chapters/135558835#workskin

word count: 4.5k

Aperture science respects your cause for concern when it comes to the production of our certified Sentry Guards. However, any reports of harm, injury, or death are not viable for lawsuit at this time.  If you would like to file a lawsuit with aperture science regarding the death of a relative in our care, just know..They read their contract and filed the form for you already. 

If you have been threatened by a Sentry Guard in the last 30 days, we’re sorry, but you cannot make a Certified Complaint with our department at this time. If you have been threatened or maimed more recently than 30 days, we’re also sorry, but Aperture Science will need to have the fully-Intact Bullets returned to us as soon as they are located on your person. Our guards now shoot 60 percent more bullet for every bullet used.

————-

When you came to, it was to silence and an empty room. No opened doors, no mechanical clicks and quiet shifts of metal beside you as it’d been when you’d fallen asleep. Considering the situation, you slept just fine. Dreamless and unbothered. However, now as you got to your feet, you were bothered by the utter lack of noise. Well, besides the door that clicked to open as you stood, crossing a sensor you weren't aware was there. It wasn’t of much concern to you, though, you weren’t going to move until you’d gotten your bearings.

And figured out where your robot companion had gone off to?

You stayed in place, wandering the same three-walled space in a paced pattern, back and forth, maybe changing up with what foot you stepped with first, dominant or non-dominant, flexing your hands out in front of you and swaying back and forth while you waited.

Patience got boring very quickly, and you found yourself walking through the door that clicks open upon your approach.

Surely, you decide for yourself, surely I can figure out my own way through. Otherwise, how would personnel have gone through here prior to the Portal gun’s creation? And sure, many catwalks were rusted and finicky and certainly not trustworthy and would’ve been condemned and out of use by a better company, but you figured that as long as you were quick, you were fine. A reasonable assumption, under better circumstances. Just not when you’re crossing towards a room and the catwalk makes an ugly cccrrrrr sound under your feet, falling to the ground below as you reach the next door. You stare behind yourself, the empty space where the catwalk had just been, bewildered. That’s not viable. Once again, a part of you was longing to be in the testing chambers. At least those were being monitored by an intelligence that needed non-mechanical life. The facility on the other hand? Alive and yet not.

Room to room, nothing much changed, besides it getting cleaner-looking. The walls were all a little less yellow, tiles weren’t so mis-aligned, although still clearly not cared for. An effect of a certain robot doing her best to rebuild everything while focusing on an upset human traversing..and also likely being aware of a wanderer somewhere behind her testing tracks. That part didn’t ring so positive for you.

And you miss the chatter, already.

It’s far too silent to be comfortable. Well, comfort in Aperture was more of a fever-dream of sorts. The love you had for a game was quickly replaced by concern of the lack of safety. Self-preservation was more important than you’d initially figured it’d be. And it’s not like you had the safety of boots strapped to you that would prevent breaking your legs. Or a gun capable of keeping you from hitting the floor ages beneath you too hard. Hard facts to face, really.

But, you weren’t stuck with the complete and utter silence of opening doors for very long. You crossed into a room you didn’t recognize at all, stark white on every wall, with shattered glass decorating the floor, large broken out panels leading to some structure you couldn’t place. Definitely not in the game you knew. Testing chambers and certain far away areas you might’ve been able to recall, but you found yourself wondering; what the hell was this?

Whatever it was..it was broken. Not recently, either. Something mechanical,dim and dark. In the distance past the glass, you could almost make out what looked to be disjointed testing tracks, broken apart to pieces, and a dim, broken button far out near the center of the open space. 

Hell, those tracks could survive a real beating, then.

“Is someone out there?”

A voice you didn’t recognize. Not in the slightest. So you get a move on, putting a little pep in your step as you cross through the doors clicking closed with some guy’s call of “-Hey!” 

Alright maybe, just maybe you were a little concerned about going through aperture’s ‘skeleton’ on your own without knowing where you were going. That’s completely normal and to be expected, as far as you cared. 

From one door into the next, away from the room of broken glass when you slowly come to a pause,considering the room for a moment. Maybe that’s what that line meant— but that room’s never seen, so maybe you were wrong.

You weren’t left to your own devices for very long at all past the unfamiliar room. Another set of doors, and you found just the robot you were looking for, hanging off of a management rail,swaying back and forth a little, unsturdy and quiet until you crossed his line of sight

”Ah! Hold on-ah, god that’s right. Look, I tried to check on you. Like a ROCK—you are. Sleeping. I came back there twice. To tell you stuff. Keep you up to date. Not even a blink.” Wheatley fumbles his words while you brush it off. 

“I’d guess you went to check up on her in person?”

“ ‘person’, very funny.” Wheatley squints before he rolls forward on the rail “Bu yes— I did. Let her know we're actively working on it, and to just use that good old humanity’s will and just keep holding on. Speaking of which, I actually came up with an idea—while you were asleep, sorry to say you couldn’t hear the thought process, not too long of one,but regardless.” Wheatley starts, and rolls ahead on the management rail while you follow on foot through a pair of opened doors into what seemed to be a storage room of sorts.

A very dirty, uncared for, storage room. Broken down walls with dimming panel hydraulics. Partially broken or burned cubes smashed into a corner of the room, broken down turrets littering the floor, and you stare around yourself all while Wheatley talks with his eye closed.

”So I was thinking, Turrets. She fancies using them—a lot, actually. Seems to be. This might…actually be where she’s throwing away the ones our lady breaks. Isn’t that uh..hah..cool” he pauses, squinting as he stares at a recently burned out turret “Er..Point being..Sometimes, they’re made defective—“ you’re fairly sure he said something about being in the turret creation department once, but you don’t question him “—And when that happens, they usually come without proper eyesight. The little buggers are infrared..pretty sure that’s the proper term. While they could be calibrated to specifically see something like…ay Metal, I guess—“ he gestures down at himself pointedly “They’re more..heat-signature based and motion capturing.”

”So..similar to the automatic doors?”

”Same function, except a lot more uh..shoot-y” Wheatley grunts with a breath he didn’t need to take. “But— On the good side of things, they’re usually confined to the ah..testing chambers. No reason to be back here any, so it’s just one of those..keep it in mind—paper in the pocket type of things.”

”Right,” you mutter, watching Wheatley roll through the rail into the next room.

 Once again, you were separated from the core as he went rolling down his management rail, and you were left scuffing your shoes against metal while you wandered down the catwalks. Grateful for a bit of rest, surely but..starved and dehydrated. You had to wonder how the testing chambers accounted for that, assuming it was the near non-stop testing that it was in the game. A recycled room of air—which you were wondering if that applied directly outside of the testing track— and adrenal vapors to keep a person going running on adrenaline, causing a loss of time, but did it account for eating and drinking as well? Or really anything else?

Either way, you were doubtful you’d figure it out for yourself before the facility would rip apart again.

Again. It was sad to think about, really. And..immensely dangerous to consider, now that you were following the narrative set before your hands, but even if you could change it, you really wouldn’t. What would it accomplish, other than preventing Chell from being able to escape? 

It wouldn’t fix much if anything, that you knew for certain. The same routine for everyone involved—which now included yourself—would fix nothing.

You frown to yourself as you pass from room to room without stopping to check where you were. You could guess it was getting closer and closer, and you swore there was something you must’ve been forgetting to mention. Something just in the recesses of your mind, something important that you should most definitely mention and you’re almost sure you’ve got it but—-…nothing.

”And..here we are.” Wheatley grabs your attention the moment you hear him in the next room. You don’t recognize the room, really. Colorful and dim, paintings of different sizes and niches on every wall, and it was definitely some sort of staff room, but you couldn’t place it.

”Where is here?”

”The aperture art gallery. Abandoned in the 1980s..I think.” Wheatley remarks, tilting his head as he considers one of the dim, dull colored paintings. Abstract in style and color, and muddied and mottled by time. “See, now here might be why this whole thing was abandoned. I mean, just look at it. Granted, there’s some color there—speck of red, a little bit of orange here—I mean, maybe it’s a rainbow. Not the best I’ve seen. Doubt it’s the best you’ve seen either. Course, there’s no descriptions on any of this, so it’s not like we’ll ever really know, but I bet this is why this was abandoned.”

”It’s abstract.”

”Abstract..” Wheatley repeats with a skeptical glance thrown your way “Abstract in what—talent?” Then he blinks, pupil constricting as though he’d said something wrong “Not to say the painter isn’t talented, of course! Probably massive talent. Might’ve also painted that uh..blue..thing over there. Uhm…It’s just not the most applied.”

”Abstract isn’t meant to be anything..or something like that.” You murmur “It’s supposed to invoke a feeling rather than an object.”

”Mm.” Wheatley hums mechanically, squinting at the abstract art before he rolls forwards on his management rail “Could be that it’s not even abstract. None of these could’ve been made by the scientists.”

”Why’s that?”

”Never seen a scientist with a silly name like Doug.” And Wheatley grunts “Doug’s great name. Fantastic, actually, now that I think about it. Just not a science-y name..uhm..Definitely a painter’s name, though. Excellent painter’s name. Better than uh..better then…” Wheatley trails off slowly, trying to come up with any name of a painter that he knew, but draws a complete and total blank. ”let’s just..let’s just move on.” The robot ultimately mutters, leading you out of Aperture’s gallery. 

And to another room where you couldn’t find the core, what with no maintenance rail leading through the room. 

You’re no longer all that surprised to be separated from the core, most of the white rooms were almost entirely closed off, and you were left in another section of upper Aperture you didn’t understand. A mottled room, with water damage stains across the ceiling, broken parts of wall where it appeared as though internal piping may have burst, and mold growing in one of the corners. A nasty room to be in, altogether. You didn’t want to stay longer than you had to at all, but something dimly lit caught your eye.

A small, partially broken computer screen was still running, though the boxed computer itself looked to be on its last legs, dust blowing out from behind it while the fans still churned. And you read what you could with what you could see on the screen. 

-

4552415345:

This isn’t working out the way any of us expected. We’re told to keep on going, like these aren’t real people. This was supposed to be easier than 52454d. That’s what she told us, that it would be less involved and we would only need to provide them with results. They want us to see this as the easier one, the lesser of the two. What we’re doing to these people. I should be smart enough to tell someone, or get out of this department. I’m a scientist. I’m a marine biologist. I don’t experiment. I wouldn’t even treat a fish like this.

4920646f6e27742077616e7420746f20746f72747572652074686573652070656f706c6520616e796d6f72652e204920616d206120474f4f4420706572736f6e2e2049276d20736f20736f7272792e

-

You stare as the screen flickers out, leaving you in the dilapidated room without much light beyond through the set of doors. But you’re stuck in place, thinking. This is new. Of course, in the game, human experimentation had been implied and vaguely referenced, but this was direct.

You didn’t like it.

Or seeing the opinion of someone who worked on whatever experiment that was about.  You leave the room hurriedly, the fear of being left behind in this creeping into the back of your head. You could think of these things later. When you didn’t have a robot to help, and a human to help escape.

if you could really call your part in things helping.

Your eyes open wide as you turn the corner to the next room, only to find a few working turrets laid around the room. Wide open, with no straight bee-line towards the exit. You almost wish you stuck to the room with the broken computer and an ominous message from an employee. That room was much better than this, much better than the sudden fear of being shot. Or bullet-ridden and alive. Somehow, that was far worse.

you desperately wished you were as good at being sneaky, but that was a complete and total lost cause. The turrets were pointed in different directions, covering each wall in line-of-sight. Wheatley was fine on a management rail, getting to completely bypass the room, but you on the other hand were…Fucked, really.

” Inconvenient, isn’t it?” A voice rings out through the speakers, and you stuck close to the door, leaning your head back in frustration. That figures. “Of course, I could move them. They have no purpose in this room. Other than stopping bugs in the walls of my facility.” You could guess who She might be referring to, with that. “You’re the bug. I figure I might mention as much if you’re anything like her.” Well,that clears that right up. 

“The incinerator is operational now.” She speaks, and you frown to yourself. You couldn’t see for sure if there were any cameras in the room, the all-seeing-eye pointed on you for the moment, but you assumed there must be one. “But with one fixed thing, another breaks. A door malfunctioned. Not far from here, actually. I’m just about to teach it something, but…I figured I might check on the fly-on-the-wall. How are you, by the way?”

You’re understanding a reason Chell might not talk, as you don’t bother with honoring the question with a response, despite Her being fully aware that you were capable of intelligent response.

”Don’t be so negative.” She chides, almost friendly, if you could call it such. At the very least, not obviously aggressive. “You should be happy, I found a use for you beyond keeping a warm fire going.” You don’t ask, and don’t especially want to know what Her plan was with you. You’d much rather try to see how fast you could run through a room, to the other door, which held wide open, like an invite. “Humans do like company. I figured you might like to keep that in mind,if you were getting lonely.” 

You broke into a sprint across the room, making a bee-line for the door.

“Target acquired.”

”I see you.”

”There you are.”

which slams closed right behind you, leading to another set of rusted catwalks. Your heart pounds as you grunt, leaning backwards against the closed doors as you coughed. 

“Are you still there?”

”Searching..”

”Target Lost.”

You lean hesitantly against the catwalks as you start walking again, just to get away from the room with your head and heart still intact.

”I see.” She speaks up against “You share speed in common, under pressure. That is good to know.” Another beat passes as you walk just that much faster along the catwalks while she speaks “You know, the interesting thing is that as you are not on the testing track, I could tell you anything, talk for as long as I wish.” You’d almost stop walking, but think better of it. It’s likely what she wants you to do,anyways. “But I have better things to do, than to watch a fly. Meander along.”

There’s a click that rings out somewhere above your head, the speaker She was using cutting out and producing static for a moment, before shutting off into silence. 

Better to be the fly than the guinea pig, you remind yourself with a huff and you walk into the next room, which thankfully, was empty. Just blank and boring and just a little broke down. No turrets, no broken ominous computers, no weird numbers you didn’t get, nothing to read and nothing to see. Just boring.

You’re so glad it’s boring

”There you are! Was wondering how far back you might be” Well, a little less boring, certainly, but nothing you were worried about. “So, good news,” Wheatley chatters on as he watches you cross into the next room “We’re about to break her on out. And it is..Really good timing, actually. Fantastic timing, really. Couldn’t have done it better, really. So, a little update— She keeps going on about some surprise for her, and it is concerning me. Quite a bit, actually. So, Figured it out all myself, did a grand ol’ job, we’ll get some panels open in this next room and hit the ground running.”

You swear there’s something you’re missing. Something you’ve been too side-tracked by to remember.

”Oh—Well, then good. Good job”

”Huh?-oh well hm—thanks, thank you, very appreciated. Very proud of myself. Anyways, it is very good that you’re back because she is quick. Very much so. Very quick, I told her to hang on for five chambers, but I Don’t think she’ll be too ruffled to be getting out in three, right?”

”I’m sure she’ll be ecstatic.” You follow Wheatley right into the next room while he waves at you a little, signaling dramatically for you to be quiet.

”Hey, buddy!” Wheatley calls out in a rather roughly-done western accent to the woman in the room, who’d just taken quite the fall off of a hard-light bridge.  You could just barely see her through the space in the panels.She landed squarely on her feet, holding the Portal gun protectively between her hands as the lights cut out. Wheatley pushed open a few panels of the back walls, and called to her “I’m speaking in an accent, that is beyond her range of hearing.” Chell stares hard at the opened panels, debating something while she starts slowly walking towards the opened wall. ”I know I’m early, but we have to go..now. So just calmly approach my position, and let’s get out of here!”

You’d just thought of something neither of you had actually prepared for, something you’d forgotten to mention and was now far too late to bring up during a mass panicking escape plan. You knew vaguely what would break and what drops would happen, and you were still at a loss with the utter lack of long-fall boots. That was something you Should’ve asked about and maybe would’ve, if the robot in question weren’t a walking, talking ‘side-line’ machine.

Chell comes just another step closer towards the panels, and a voice rings out through the dim testing chamber “Metal ball, I CAN hear you.”

”RUN- I don’t need to do the voice— run!” The paneled wall opens fully, and Chell comes running out of it, sprinting past you on top of an activated hard-light bridge to the row of catwalks. On every area of the outside were rows of panel walls and tubes with weighted cubes flowing through them. You ran after her onto the hard-light bridge. It turns off as she starts running down a flight of stairs.

”Okay! Quick recap—“ Wheatley’s voice hardly cuts through the sound of adjusting walls and shuttering panels on every side while GLaDOS tries to keep up with the movement of two humans and a Core running through the back of her facility. “—We are escaping! Alright—that’s what’s happening now, we’re escaping— you’re doing great just keep running!” You Almost see his form roll by overhead, talking while Chell leads the way, only hurriedly throwing a glance over her shoulder to make sure you were there as she ran through the catwalks, ducking under a pressurized tube. “Alright— quick word, about the future plan I have in store. We’re going to Shut down her turret production line,alright—turn off her neurotoxin— and then confront her.” Chell is Fast, much faster than you were, though you weren’t surprised what with the woman being loaded up on adrenal vapor was capable of. “Again though, for the moment–Run!”

“The Irony is you were almost at the last test.” a wall opens up, and though chell spares the barest of glances, her expression hardens and she turns tail to hop onto the hard light bridge as you follow her “Here it is. Why don’t you just do it? Trust me, it's an easier way out than whatever asinine plan your friends came up with.” GLaDOS’ voice rings overhead as Chell runs across the light-bridge. 

“Oh–what? How stupid does she think we are?”

You weren’t sure when it was coming,but when it did were you definitely going to be ready and prepared to fall and fall evenly–

The light-bridge vanishes under your feet. Chell lands squarely on the catwalk, which trembles under the sudden weight. On the positive note, you land on your feet,no obviously broken bones, but a shock of pain shoots right up to the knees as you seize up. Not good, not good at all, not in the least. Chell hesitates for less than a moment before she grabs your forearm before she takes off, keeping you side by side with her as she runs down the catwalks, unceremoniously dragging you with her without so much as another glance. Or a word, expectantly. 

She led you through the catwalks, onto a solid metal platform with tubes running through it that closed into a box as soon as she stepped fully into it.

“Searching..” 

“Woah- Hold on..we need to get you out of there–” 

Chell doesn’t waste time looking. She wastes no time picking up one of the turrets with the portal gun, and it wails at her “Who ARE you? Put me down!” Before she throws it at the other with a small grunt. The two turrets burst into wails and gunfire after being knocked over. 

“I heard gunfire! A little late for this, but watch out for gunfire! Probably–Probably doesn’t help at this point, but I have at least tried.”

Chell glances around herself, shooting one portal at a white wall in the box, and another through a gap in the paneled walls. 

“I don’t hate you..”

She pulls you along through the portal without a second thought, tumbling through onto another set of catwalks. Around another dark corner and up another set of stairs, Chell doesn’t even look as she shoots a set of portals, sending a set of two turrets tumbling through the same set of portals repeatedly, faster and faster. She led you through a set of heavy metal doors that tried not opening before she rushed through.

Speed under pressure, She had said, and you couldn’t help but agree. Chell was much too fast, and much too smart to stop and look around herself as she ran on pure adrenaline..and a ridiculous amount of spite, you’d bet. She dragged you into an open spaced room that was peaceful for a moment.

Until the metal started tearing and ‘screaming’ as it was moved.

“She’s bringing the whole place down! This way! Hurry,Hurry get over here–” You could just barely make out the yelling over all the harsh screeching of metal as two testing tracks on opposite sides of the empty space were pulled towards the catwalks at a rather alarming speed. As panels hit a set of stairs, the catwalks broke apart and rattled as Chell ran with you in tow. You don’t speak as she drags you along, far too busy trying to breathe and trying to ignore everything colliding and falling and smashing together right over your head.

“Get in the lift! Get in!” Chell didn’t need to be told at all, she rushed through the catwalks, narrowing avoiding the catwalk breaking under her feet as she ran into the elevator, and its metal bars shut behind you and here.

“Ohhh…we made it we made it we made it,” you could hear Wheatley’s voice faintly in the distance as the elevator began to rise. “Look, I’ll meet you on the other-side!”

 Chell looks around herself with a furrowed brow. Trapped in on all sides by yellowed walls, and you grunt as you lean against part of the elevator. She didn’t seem all that pleased to be in a confined space..again. 

“God..This sucks.” you’re not even speaking to her. Just to the open air, but Chell’s head tilts, and she stares at you. Then, she gestures to your leg “Oh? No–it’s,it’s fine. No big deal.” She raises a brow, apparently unconvinced. You find yourself tapping your fingers against the bars of the elevator, wondering just how long this was going to take “Really, it’s no big deal. Nothing broken.” which doesn’t negate the fact that Chell had to pull you along with her to actually make it to the elevator in record time..which she clearly conveys her disbelief in you.

“Look, I’ll ask him if he can find boots for me. Would that make it better?” and subtly, Chell nods. You don’t see the point in her caring. Regardless, she’d be fine, and she doesn’t even need you to be fine in all this.

Except for the fact you’re the only other human she’s seen in quite some time. That…makes more sense for why she might want to keep you around.

“..Alright fine, i’ll ask.”

[maria021015]

As the sound of even footfalls echoing off the stone walls reached her ears, Zaida cocked her head to the side. She had woken on a thin mattress in a dark cell behind thick rusted bars what felt like hours earlier - though there was no concept of time in this place. She wouldn’t call it quiet, but apart from the deranged screaming or mumbling of fellow prisoners, there was no sign of human life. Not until now, that was.

She didn’t bother getting up to see who it was, remaining in her position on the cold floor with her knees drawn into her chest and her back pressed against a wall. She knew where she was - there was no other place in town that she could possibly be. Though it was more than that. There was a familiarity that called to her bones - one that hadn’t been there before - and that same daunting feeling as the last time she’d been here, searching for Stiles. Eichen House. What had surprised her was the Mountain Ash barrier that had glowed a blinding electric blue when she’d gone to grip the bars earlier, preventing her from doing so. She couldn’t feel anything beyond the barrier - it was as if none of it existed to her senses. Briefly, she’d wondered what else was trapped down here in this specialised wing of the institution. Werewolves? Kanimas? Perhaps worse things that they hadn’t discovered yet? She gathered that none of them would get many visitors - if visitors were even allowed - which had to mean that the person slowly approaching the end of the corridor must be there for her.

“Having second thoughts about bringing me here?” She drawled, her own voice lingering in the way it reverberated around the space. Zaida didn't need to move from her lazed position to recognise who it was when dark boots stepped into her peripheral vision. Alan Deaton didn’t bother with giving her an answer, prompting her to glance at him only to find a thin metal syringe held in the hand that hung by his side. “What is that?”

“You know what it is. I saw you looking at it,” The man answered in a steady tone and Zaida’s mind flashed back to the glass bottle that held familiar yellow buds on a shelf at the clinic.

“Giant Fennel,” Her lips pulled into a snarl instinctively, her muscles recoiling. She wanted that devil plant as far away from her as possible.

“Also known as Narthex, or Artikas,” Deaton nodded slightly, lifting the syringe to admire it as a dark golden liquid beaded at the tip of the needle. “Its interior trunk is made of a soft foam-like material that is extremely flammable, making it a natural torch. In more ways than one. It was the plant that Prometheus used to-”

“To steal the fire of the gods, yes, I’m aware,” Zaida snapped, interjecting as Stiles’ voice flickered in her ears and the smell of smoke teased her nose, as if she were there again.

Prometheus stole the gods’ fire from Hephaestus and hid it in a stalk of fennel, passing it on to humankind. When burned, the fire of the gods is released from the plant, and fire has always been the antithesis of water - and the creatures who draw from it. It’s all rather symbolic, isn’t it?

“Then you’ll also know what it does to people like you?” He stared at her with analytical eyes, his mind coming to many different conclusions as to how she’d discovered such information.

“I certainly know what it feels like,” She muttered bitterly, ending Deaton’s wandering. Zaida could tell from the softening of his dark eyes that he understood what she’d experienced in the two days she’d been missing with Stiles.

“Whilst it may feel like fire, it is also a poison.” He explained. “It will weaken your abilities.”

“You mean it will cut me off,” She chuckled darkly, already seeing their plan. “From Stiles.”

“From the Nogitsune,” Deaton corrected pointedly. “Yes.”

“And you’d thought you’d come here with that thing, and I’d just let you inject poison into me?” Zaida scoffed and pushed herself to her feet, approaching the bars slowly but not stepping within arm’s reach of the man as her agitation rose into anger. “Did you really think I’d be okay with that? That I’d want to go back to that pathetic girl held back by trivial emotions, forced to feel what everyone else feels the very moment her guards slip? That I’d want to go back to being weak?”

“No,” The answer came from a voice Zaida did not expect to hear and Allison Argent stepped into view from the expanse of the hallway that Zaida couldn’t see from her cell. Before she could blink, burning pain bloomed from her shoulder and she looked down to find a dart buried in her shoulder. “We didn’t.”

Stumbling backwards, Zaida pushed through the fire spreading through her veins, grabbing the dart and ripping from her body. But it was too late. By the time she’d thrown it across the room where it shattered, the glass compartment was almost completely emptied of the golden liquid inside. Her vision spun and blurred as excruciating pain surged through her body. The relentless inferno raged a war against her from within, flames licking at her insides. With every beat of her heart that pumped blood through her system, the agony spread. Collapsing onto her knees, her fingernails raked against the floors as a raw scream tore through her throat, forcing her gritted teeth apart. Sweat dripped from her brow, mingling with the tears that pooled in her eyes from the unbearable pain. Every muscle in her body wailed in protest, convulsing with spasms of torment as the poison ravaged her.

Allison lowered her gun, swallowing thickly at the disturbing sight of her friend’s suffering. It may not be Zaida within, but it certainly looked like her. With Deaton’s nod of approval, two orderlies unlocked the door to the cell, venturing inside while the Naiad was distracted to grip her by her arms and haul her to her feet once more.

Through the haze of pain, Zaida could hear distant voices, distorted as if echoing from another realm. She felt hands grip her biceps, firm and rough, anchoring her amidst the chaos. Desperation clawed at her mind as she fought to endure the searing torment, to cling to the last shreds of consciousness amidst the blaze. But as the flames raged fiercer, threatening to consume her whole, Zaida's strength wavered, her vision dimming as she teetered on the brink of oblivion.

“No, no,” She couldn’t hold back her weak sobs. “Not again…”

With a final gasp of anguish, she succumbed to the engulfing darkness, her consciousness slipping away into an endless abyss. Allison and Deaton watched the two orderlies drag her sagging form down the corridor, her body going limp.

“Stiles tortured her, didn’t he?” Allison asked, blinking away the tears that welled in her eyes. “He used that stuff to make her let that thing into her mind.”

“It appears so.” Deaton acknowledged with a saddened expression, his characteristically even tone wavering slightly.

“We’re going to get that fox out of them,” Allison's jaw set stubbornly and her nostrils flared. “And when we do, we’re gonna kill it.”

Zaida felt as though she was falling through the rabbit hole to wonderland - if the rabbit hole was pitch black and echoing with her own screams. With a start, she collapsed back into her own body. Instead of finding herself on a strange black-and-white checkered marble floor, when she forced her heavy eyelids open, she felt a cardboard-thin mattress beneath her. The ceiling above was cracked and a single cobweb stretched from one wall to the other as a small black spider reformed dusty silk. Cool air caressed her skin soothingly, and a muggy, wet feeling alerted her to the fact that her clothes were drenched in sweat. Like a torrent of water rushing through a broken dam, her emotions flooded her to fill the empty space - to fill the blissful void that had been.

Her chest contracted as her lungs tightened from the pressure bearing down upon her. Tears streamed down her cheeks as the weight of everything she’d done crashed over her like a tidal wave. She could feel every ounce of pain, every ounce of guilt, engulfing her soul with a crushing intensity. Lifting her head from the mattress only to smash it back down again and again and again, she tried desperately to quieten the growing noise in her mind. Her hands shook as she pressed them against her temples, trying to drown out the cacophony of voices echoing in her head - the screams of her victims, the cries of the innocent, the whispers of the darkness that had consumed her…No matter how hard she wished it would all go away, there was no frightening spectre to take it from her. No, she was all alone within herself now. All alone to be swept out by the overwhelming current.

Zaida let out a guttural cry of anguish, the sound reverberating off the walls of her prison like a haunting lament. Her body was on fire, her clothes were suffocating. Bolting up from the bed she gripped the hem of her jumper, tearing it from her body and leaving her in only a sports bra. Even then it wasn’t enough. She was too hot…it was all too heavy…it was unbearable. Her body was wracked with sobs that caused her muscles to convulse as she struggled to suck air into lungs that refused to expand. Hugging her knees into her chest, she rocked back and forth consumed by the unending despair that threatened to drag her to its inky depths. Still, she was burning - burning like the flames of hell were incinerating her sins. The atrocities that she’d committed were stapled to her eyes and she saw herself bleeding Katashi and his men dry over and over and over and over…Crimson blood had gushed from their noses, their eyes, ears, mouths, everywhere… and it had been all her fault. The arrow in Coach…the bomb at the station…all those officers… Xander. Oh God, Xander…With a desperate and sorrowful wail, she clawed at her clothes - at her skin - leaving red, raised wounds in her wake in an attempt to rid herself of the stain of blood. It was no use. She felt as though she was drowning in it - choking on thick, hot liquid.

Minutes passed, or perhaps hours, until Zaida’s weeping quieted from exhaustion. She still burned, though, and the inferno that raged on within her dried up her tears before they could even form. Wiping her dripping nose on the back of her hand, she sniffed loudly and the sound was followed by a long, frustrated sigh that was not her own. Zaida’s brows furrowed as her head lifted from her knees. Her glassy eyes peered through the darkness to the figure of a girl sitting propped up in the bed parallel to hers on the opposite side of the room.

“Are you done yet?” The girl drawled, unimpressed and somewhat tired. Zaida hurried to cover her exposed upper half, cheeks flushing further in embarrassment. Had this girl been there the whole time? The brunette didn’t appear phased in the slightest. If anything, she just seemed inconvenienced by her new roommate.

“Sorry,” Zaida mumbled sheepishly in a dry croak, wiping her face and smoothing her damp hair in an attempt to put herself back together - or to at least look like she’d put herself back together.

“What’d you do?” The girl questioned bluntly and Zaida’s lips parted in surprise at her. The brunette nodded towards Zaida’s state as if it were an explanation. “That looked familiar.”

Squinting to get a better look, as her eyes adjusted to the heavy darkness of the room with no windows, the girl’s face became clearer. Dark, deep-set, almond eyes with a sloped nose and high cheekbones. The longer she looked, the more she realised that she knew the face that was staring back at her.

“Malia?” Zaida whispered in disbelief. “Malia Tate?”

“How do you know me?” The brunette - Malia - shot back defensively, leaning forward and taking in a deep breath. Then, it was as if something snapped. Malia leapt from her mattress, crossing the empty space in two quick strides to grip Zaida’s shoulders and pin her to the bed beneath.

“What the hell?!” Zaida swore and brought her knee up between them, planting her foot against the girl’s stomach and kicking her off. Malia went flying across the room and Zaida jumped to her feet in the time that it took for the werecoyote to recover.

Malia growled, baring her teeth as she swung. Her movements were aggressive but not practised, and Zaida caught her fist with ease, ducking beneath the girl’s outstretched arm and twisting. Malia grunted in pain but kicked out behind her, landing on Zaida’s shin and causing her to lose her balance and let go. The werecoyote whirled around with another punch that Zaida swiftly dodged but returned, her own blow landing against Malia’s jaw. Her head was knocked backwards from the force, disorienting her long enough for Zaida to follow up by shoving her backwards. Malia’s knees hit the edge of her bed and she fell. Zaida stepped back into a fighting stance, but the werecoyote did not get back to her feet. Instead, she propped herself up on her elbows and narrowed her eyes at Zaida darkly, knowing she was outmatched.

“What the fuck was that for?!” Zaida exclaimed, her heart thundering in her chest.

“You were there! You’re one of them!” Malia snarled with anger behind her brown eyes.

“One of who? One of the people who helped you turn back into a human after being trapped in an animal's body for eight years?” The Naiad scoffed, shaking her head at the girl’s reaction.

“More like one of the people who forced me against my will into a life that I never wanted to return to!” Malia shot back and Zaida faltered.

“You…you wanted to stay a coyote?” She shook her head, trying to fathom why anyone would want to live as an animal.

“When the alternative was to face my father and try to figure out how to tell him that the reason my sister and mother are dead is because I almost ate them on a full moon? Yes !” The werecoyote yelled and suddenly Zaida understood perfectly.

“Hey!” Banging at the heavy steel door to their room alerted them to the presence of a man outside, making them both jump in surprise. “Quieten down in there, or we’ll come in and make you!”

Malia waited until the receding sound of his footsteps stopped before she continued. “It’s not like you would know what it’s like to hurt someone - especially someone you love.” She bristled, and Zaida let out a long sigh before stepping backwards to lower herself onto her own mattress.

“Actually, I do.” The Naiad admitted in a hollow tone, and when her guilt-ridden eyes rose to meet Malia’s she found they echoed each other.

“Who’d you hurt?” Malia asked, the edge to her voice softening as her rigid posture relaxed.

“A lot of people,” Zaida snorted and sucked in a sharp breath as each of their faces swam across her vision. Katashi, his guards, the officers… “My brother…I don’t even know if he’s alive.”

“Is that why you’re in here?” The girl questioned - again, shockingly unphased. Not much seemed to bother her.

“Yeah, something like that,” Zaida nodded, her stomach twisting painfully at the swarm of memories that threatened to tug her into another emotional breakdown.

“So, you’re like me then?” Malia guessed, sitting up straighter with a curious expression across her pretty features.

“A shape-shifter?” Zaida clarified what she was asking, and the werecoyote nodded. “No, I’m not a shapeshifter. I’m something else, though - a Naiad. Sort of like a water elemental with the ability to read emotions. It’s complicated.”

“Sounds cool,” The girl shrugged, appearing slightly impressed. It was strange how a second ago she was trying to rip out Zaida’s throat, and yet now they were…bonding? If that was the right word for it…

“Sometimes it really isn’t,” Zaida said honestly, a wistful tone betraying her longing for an element of normalcy. Then when the shock of Malia’s presence subsided, she finally brought herself to question why she was there in the first place. “What are you doing here?”

“The whole ‘trying to figure out how to tell my dad what happened’ thing? Didn’t go so well.” Malia explained. “Turns out, saying I turned into an animal and then lived as a coyote in the woods for eight years sounds kinda crazy. And when you sound crazy, I guess they bring you to this place.”

“I’m sorry,” Zaida winced, her heart crying out in sympathy for the girl. “We really did think we were helping you out.”

“Helping me out would be teaching me how to turn back,” The werecoyote muttered bitterly, staring at her hands and wishing they were tipped with the claws she’d spent eight years getting used to.

“I know someone who could do that,” Zaida offered. “If that’s what you want.”

“You do?” Malia’s eyes widened hopefully, and there was an eagerness to her blunt voice that hadn’t been there before.

“Yeah,” The Naiad nodded, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand and fanning herself to relieve some of the heat that was still searing within her. “But that’s if we ever get out of here.”

“Why are you sweating so much?” The brunette questioned indelicately and Zaida mused at the girl’s forthright disposition. Though she supposed the woods was not a place where one learned social cues or propriety.

“Because, I feel like I’m on fire from the inside out,” Zaida answered honestly and Malia got up, moving to sit on the mattress beside her. Pressing her hand to Zaida’s forehead, Malia pulled away quickly with a frown.

“You’re burning,” The werecoyote stated, before leaning into Zaida’s side, causing her to stiffen in shock at the seemingly affectionate gesture.

“Uh, what are you doing?” Zaida asked, caught entirely off guard.

“What? Since turning back into a human I’m always cold.” Malia pulled a face as if Zaida were the weird one, and continued to rest her head on the naiad’s shoulder. Surely enough, Malia’s skin was ice-cold, and it actually served as somewhat of a relief to Zaida’s overheated body.

“Right," Zaida decided to drop the subject, realising that this must be another one of Malia’s animal-learned quirks. Coyotes - like many other animals - often would huddle together in their dens to conserve body heat. Surprisingly, she actually found it sort of…comforting. Though she wished desperately that Lydia or Allison were there instead.

“Now, most of the people here are okay…The violent ones are in the closed unit.” The boy Stiles was rooming with - Oliver - led him through the main area of the institution where the rest of the patients gathered during free time. He pointed people out as they went. “That's Hillary - she has OCD. That's Gary - he thinks he's Jesus Christ. Dan - also Jesus. That's Mary.”

“Mary Magdalene?” Stiles assumed but Oliver shook his head.

“No, she also thinks she's Jesus. You'd be surprised how many Jesuses we get…” He trailed off sunnily.

“Not really,” Stiles muttered, uninterested. He was looking for one thing and one thing only.

“Hey, how come you want to use the phone already?” Oliver asked him, gesturing to the old-school wall-mounted device that looked similar to the one used for prisoner calls at the Sheriff’s station.

“'Cause, after one night, I've changed my mind about this place being safe for me,” Stiles answered honestly, his voice wavering slightly with anxiety. It had only been his first night and yet he’d already witnessed a suicide up close and personally. What was worse than facing the boy’s swinging body, was the glimpse he’d caught of the familiar bandaged creature at the base of the stairwell. And even worse than that was the riddle the boy had been muttering to himself before he’d jumped from the top floor with a bedsheet tied around his neck. “Or anyone. Ever .”

“No. No, I think you're wrong. I really think I should tell them. They're going to want to know the story - the whole story. I really think they should know. Yes, I do…” A slight girl with frizzy hair mumbled into the receiver with her back turned to them, but it was the next words that came out of her mouth that struck Stiles like a jolt of electricity. “One of them is standing right behind me…”

The girl glanced over her shoulder - right at him - before hanging up and walking away. “Who was that?” He questioned, a chill running down his spine.

“That's Meredith.” Oliver smiled with an emptiness in his gaze. “She's a little weird.”

“You're a little weird. She's a lot weird.” Stiles scoffed as crossed over to pick up the phone, lifting it to his ear only to find the machine was unresponsive. “...It's dead.”

“Yeah. They turn off all the phones for twenty-four hours after a suicide.” Oliver nodded and explained nonchalantly, only increasing the strangeness of the previous girl’s behaviour. She’d been talking into a dead line as if she were having a conversation.

“Why didn't you tell me that before?” Stiles sighed in exasperation, rolling his eyes as a spark of irritation ignited within him. After an entirely sleepless night, his agitation was at its peak.

“Why didn't you ask?” Oliver responded blankly and Stiles began to walk away, prompting Oliver to hurry after him like a lost puppy. “What are you going to do now?”

“I'm getting out of this nuthouse.” He muttered under his breath.

“That's not really the appropriate way to describe a facility like this…” Oliver frowned, slightly offended by the use of the term.

That was when Stiles saw her, and the breath was stolen from his lungs. Her hair was pulled up into a bun on her head, giving him a clear view of the face that was turned away from him. That straight-bridged nose, those almond eyes he could spend eons staring into, and those full lips…it was unmistakably her. The last time he could remember seeing her was in that dungy room illuminated by the orange glow of heaters and firelight. Her beautiful face, twisted in agony as she screamed. Burns bubbling across her inflamed skin as she glistened with sweat and tears, begging him to stop. Looking at her now felt like a sledgehammer to the diaphragm, but he couldn’t stop his feet from moving. Even now he was drawn to her, like the tides to the moon, desperately reaching for her.

“Zaida,” His voice emerged from his lips in a breathy whisper and her brows drew together in confusion at the sound until her head turned and her eyes landed on him. Only instead of brightening at the sight of him as they usually did, hazel filled with panic.

[talesofallure]

Dorothy Delgado's Divine Devices. The letters were printed in bold black writing over the shop door. From the street you'd think this pop-up shop was nothing much out of the ordinary, and in truth you'd be right.

Some fifteen years ago, when Dorothy was still a girl who believed in such things as the Tooth Fairy and the Baba-Da-Gan, she'd come across a small shed down by the brook behind her mother's house.

Her mother had told tales of imp-like creatures that lived in small sheds similar to this, tin can contraptions with leaky roofs and blacked-out windows, covered in rust and mould.

There were markings on the door of the shed, ritualistic symbols (Dorothy had etched these same symbols into the frame of her pop-up shop door, it was all about appearances you see). Despite her mother's warnings -- about sheds and imps and strangers by the brook -- Dorothy had been curious, too curious not to take a peak inside. It was ironic really, that same curiosity is what now sent customers flocking to her store.

"You're shorter than I expected," a boy half her height, wearing a bright yellow hat and sporting a beard the same colour that ran to his knees -- odd for a boy to sport a beard that long -- was sat on stool playing with his tail.

"You were expecting me?" Dorothy asked despite herself, forgetting yet more of her mother's wisdom.

There's trouble in asking questions.

The boy had smiled an awful sort of smile, all teeth and no lips. There was a flash of hunger in his eyes. They're like stones. Dorothy had thought to herself. Grey and hard, and I'll bet they don't bleed.

That was all it took, one question followed by another and the boy had managed to trap Dorothy in a sort of spiraling conversation that felt so much like a fever dream she'd have sworn it never happened. That was, had it not been for the curse.

"Little girls lie, don't they?" the boy had asked.

"Nuh-uh. Not this one." Dorothy had protested, just a little too much.

Of course little girls lie, but they get in trouble for lying, so Dorothy certainly wasn't going to admit to such a sin. Not to this stranger in a tin-can. What if her mother found out?

Back in the present day Dorothy sighed. That boy, that day, they held home in the very fore-front of her mind, a memory played forever on repeat, just like that Christmas special her mother had loved, the one about the boy who never did as he was told.

She gave a short laugh, unlocking the door to her store, the bell above her head ringing as she stepped inside. Her mother would have loved this, the veritable mountain of antiques displayed on table-tops, and on shelves, and hanging from the ceiling, some larger oddities standing of their own right on the wood panel flooring.

But her mother was no longer of this world. A tragic accident that could have been prevented if not for this Gods forsaken curse.

To tell the truth was to be spat at in the street, no matter how hard she tried, no matter how hard she pleaded, no one would either again believe the words of Dorothy Delgado. But to lie, to lie was to speak gospel that no ears could ever deny -- little girls don't lie, nuh-uh, not this one.

The only problem was the inevitable visit some days later when Dorothy's divine device failed to live up to expectations.

She could handle the authorities, all she had to do was lie and they'd bid her a good day, apologising for having wasted her time. But the customers, oh dear lord the customers. You could lie and send them packing, but word would spread, yet more words would be written, scathing reviews left online making Dorothy Delgado's Divine Device's the one place in town you gave a very wide birth.

Oh how she missed the days before the world and her wife carried computer's in their pockets.

So she'd move along, find another town, come up with some other clever name under which to sell her fabled goods. And ever on the cycle would repeat.

If she'd had the choice, she might just have gone back home, to her mother's that is, the little cottage by the brook. But the boy had taken that took, hadn't he.

Ring.

The door came open and with it entered Dorothy's first customer of the day.

"Interesting place you've got here," the man offered.

There it is. Dorothy gave a short but pleasant smile, just enough to invite the man in further, but not so friendly as to lose all sense of mystery. It was an art. One she'd mastered over the years, she'd have you know.

The man picked up a feather pen and pot of ink, squinting at the tag. There was no price, just words and a promise, "this is a joke, right? You don't really expect me to believe..."

"That this pen can make you a world famous novelist?" Dorothy put a hand on the man's shoulder, and whispered in his ear, "this pen was once owned by Dickens, by Orwell, by Virginia Woolf. It can make you world famous alright, but at a cost."

The man drank up every word, he swallowed and asked, "what cost?"

"Thirty-four ninety-nine," Dorothy grinned, "plus taxes."

You have been cursed so that nobody believes you when you tell the truth. But you find people will believe you when you lie. So until you can find a way to undo the curse you make do as a very successful merchant.

[tooperfectiontiger]

How to Take Care of Your Silk Sarees and Keep Them Glowing for Years

Silk sarees are more than just outfits. They are tradition, emotion and elegance woven into six yards of beauty. Whether you wear them during weddings, festivals or family celebrations, they always make you feel special. At The Indian Motif, we understand that a silk saree is not only a fashion statement but also a memory that stays with you for years. And when you take care of your sarees properly, they will continue to shine and feel just as lovely every time you wear them.

Many women keep their sarees safely folded away, thinking that occasional wear keeps them protected. But silk is a delicate fabric that needs gentle care and the right storage methods to stay fresh and radiant. Just like you care for jewelry or heirlooms, silk sarees also need attention to keep their color, texture and structure intact. Let’s take a closer look at how you can maintain your silk sarees easily at home without any stress.

Why silk sarees need special care

Silk is a natural fiber that looks rich and glossy but is quite delicate. When exposed to sunlight, moisture or strong soaps, it can lose its sheen or even become weak over time. That is why silk sarees are best treated gently. With a little effort, you can make sure that every saree you own stays just as graceful as the first time you wore it.

The charm of silk lies in how it reflects light and falls beautifully, and both these qualities are easily affected by incorrect cleaning or storing methods. So taking care of silk is less about doing more, and more about doing it right.

What is the best way to clean a silk saree

One of the most important things to know about silk sarees is that they should not be washed like regular clothes. The safest option is always to dry clean them, especially if your saree has zari borders or detailed weaving. Dry cleaning helps protect the fabric and maintain its shine for a long time.

If you decide to wash a simple silk saree at home, make sure to use cold water and a gentle, silk-safe detergent. Do not soak the saree for long or scrub it. A gentle rinse followed by drying it in shade is the best approach. It is also a good idea to avoid spraying perfume directly on the saree, as the alcohol content may stain or weaken the fabric.

How to dry your silk saree safely

After washing or even dry cleaning, drying your saree properly is very important. Never let a silk saree dry under direct sunlight. This can cause the colors to fade and make the fabric feel rough. Instead, dry your saree in a shaded area with good airflow.

It is better not to use metal hangers either. Sometimes they react with moisture and leave behind rust marks. If needed, use a padded hanger or simply lay the saree flat on a soft cloth until it is completely dry.

The right way to store silk sarees

Storage makes a big difference in how long your silk sarees stay beautiful. You should always fold them neatly and wrap them in a cotton or muslin cloth before storing them. This protects them from dust and lets the fabric breathe.

Avoid using plastic covers. Plastic can trap moisture which may lead to yellowing or fungal spots. A clean, cool and dry cupboard is the perfect place to keep your sarees safe.

Another simple habit that helps is refolding your sarees every few months. Keeping them folded the same way for a long time can lead to deep crease lines that are hard to remove. Changing the fold direction keeps the fabric strong and prevents wear along the same lines.

How to protect silk sarees from insects

Silk sarees are often at risk from small insects like moths or silverfish. These pests are attracted to natural fibers and can damage the fabric silently. To protect your sarees, you can use natural repellents like dried neem leaves, cloves or cedar chips. These are safe, gentle and smell pleasant compared to chemical mothballs.

Just place them near your saree stacks in small cotton pouches. Replace them once in a while to keep them fresh and effective.

Wearing your saree with care also matters

Even while wearing your saree, a few thoughtful steps can make a difference. Be careful with jewelry that may snag the delicate threads. Keep your hands clean when draping light colored sarees, and avoid letting the pallu drag on rough surfaces. These small details help your saree look perfect throughout the day and prevent accidental damage.

Keeping sarees beautiful for generations

When you take care of your silk sarees the right way, they do more than just last longer. They become timeless pieces that you can share with your daughter, or pass down as part of your family’s story. Many women tell us how their mother’s or grandmother’s sarees are still in beautiful condition simply because they were stored and handled with love.

At The Indian Motif, we believe that a saree is not just a garment but a connection to our roots. That is why we encourage you to take these small steps. A little care goes a long way in keeping your silk sarees soft, shiny and ready to be cherished forever.

Celebrate tradition with care at The Indian Motif

Every saree at The Indian Motif is handpicked with love and care, and we want you to enjoy it for a lifetime. Whether you buy a Kanjivaram, Uppada or Gadwal saree from us, we hope it becomes a part of your most beautiful moments.

Visit our website today to explore authentic handwoven silk sarees and let them become part of your story. When you care for your sarees, you’re not just preserving fabric — you’re keeping the legacy of Indian craftsmanship alive.

[paintprotectionfilmservices]

Paint Protection Film – More Than Simply Protecting The Paint!

When individuals consider Paint Protection Film (PPF), they typically think of its role in safeguarding a vehicle’s exterior paint from scratches, chips, and environmental harm. Although this is its main purpose, PPF provides several additional advantages beyond mere paint protection. It can shield headlights, carbon fibre components, trim elements, and even certain interior surfaces, thereby prolonging the lifespan of various parts while preserving the vehicle’s visual appeal. In this article, we will delve into the lesser-known benefits of PPF and how it can significantly enhance protection for vehicle owners seeking comprehensive solutions.

Protecting the headlights from discoloration and deterioration

The headlights of your vehicle face numerous external threats, such as UV radiation, road debris, and severe weather conditions. Over time, these factors can lead to headlights becoming cloudy, yellowed, or scratched, which diminishes visibility and poses safety risks.

How PPF helps:

PPF is equipped with UV inhibitors that combat oxidation and yellowing, ensuring that headlights remain clear and luminous while providing a shield against minor scratches caused by debris and car washes. It also helps maintain clarity by preventing dullness and cloudiness, thus enhancing nighttime visibility. By applying PPF to your headlights, you can extend their lifespan and avoid expensive replacements or the need for frequent polishing.

Protection for door edges, handles, and side mirrors

The edges and handles of doors are frequently subjected to contact, making them vulnerable to scratches and chips, particularly from rings, keys, and regular usage. Similarly, side mirrors are often impacted by debris, resulting in minor dents or scuffs.

How PPF helps:

PPF serves as a protective barrier against unintentional bumps, safeguarding door edges from chipping and protecting handles from scratches caused by fingernails and keys. It also defends side mirrors against rock chips and debris while driving, ensuring that even the most minor aspects of your vehicle remain pristine for years to come.

Safeguarding interior surfaces from damage

Interestingly, PPF is not limited to exterior applications; it can also be utilized on interior surfaces that are susceptible to scratches and fading.

How PPF helps:

PPF shields infotainment screens and touch displays from fingerprints, smudges, and scratches resulting from daily use. It also helps prevent fading, cracking, and wear on the dashboard and centre console due to extended sun exposure. Furthermore, it keeps glossy trims and piano black finishes free from swirls, dust buildup, and micro-scratches, ensuring that the interior maintains a like-new appearance with minimal upkeep.

Protection for carbon fibre and chrome accents

Carbon fibre and chrome accents contribute a luxurious element to vehicles but are also susceptible to damage. Carbon fibre can chip and fade, while chrome is at risk of corrosion and pitting.

How PPF helps:

PPF absorbs impacts from road debris, protecting carbon fibre panels from chips and cracks, while also safeguarding chrome parts from oxidation, ensuring they remain shiny and free from rust or corrosion. Its UV protection helps carbon fibre elements maintain their rich, glossy finish without fading over time. With PPF, your premium trim details stay in excellent condition, enhancing the overall aesthetic of your vehicle.

Protection against road salt, chemicals, and stains

In areas with severe winters or significant industrial pollution, vehicles face constant exposure to road salt, chemical residues, and environmental pollutants that can damage the paint and undercarriage.

How PPF helps:

PPF offers resistance to chemicals, protecting your vehicle from salt, acid rain, and aggressive cleaning agents that can lead to corrosion. Its hydrophobic characteristics enable water and dirt to slide off easily, decreasing the frequency of washing. Additionally, it prevents stains from bird droppings, bug splatter, and tree sap, ensuring that your paint and trim remain immaculate. With PPF, you reduce the likelihood of corrosion and discoloration, keeping your vehicle in excellent condition regardless of the surrounding environment.

Self-healing and low maintenance advantages

A standout feature of contemporary PPF is its self-healing property, which allows minor scratches and swirl marks to vanish when exposed to heat.

How PPF helps:

The self-healing technology of PPF enables scratches caused by washing or debris to disappear when subjected to sunlight or warm water. This feature reduces the necessity for frequent waxing, effortlessly preserving a glossy and smooth finish. Additionally, the hydrophobic surface repels dirt, minimizing maintenance efforts and facilitating quicker, easier cleaning. With these advantages, PPF provides exceptional protection along with added convenience for vehicle owners.

Enhancing resale value and long-term appeal

A vehicle that is well-cared-for commands a higher resale price, and Paint Protection Film (PPF) is essential in maintaining its immaculate condition. Prospective buyers are more inclined to offer a premium for a car that shows minimal signs of wear.

How PPF helps:

PPF safeguards the paintwork by absorbing impacts that could otherwise damage the vehicle’s exterior. It also reflects the owner’s commitment to maintenance, indicating to potential buyers that extra care has been taken. With its durable protection, PPF helps the car retain a newer appearance for an extended period, thereby boosting its resale attractiveness. By choosing to invest in PPF, you not only protect your vehicle but also enhance its market value over time.

Final thoughts: Is PPF worth the investment?

While Paint Protection Film (PPF) is primarily recognized for its role in safeguarding automotive paint, we can see how its advantages extend further. Regardless of whether you own a luxury vehicle, a daily commuter, or a high-performance car, PPF provides enduring protection and maintains an impeccable appearance. Opting for high-quality PPF that features self-healing, UV resistance, and hydrophobic characteristics is a wise decision. To achieve optimal results, it is advisable to select a professional installer who can ensure flawless coverage and longevity.

When seeking professional PPF installation, Autopad stands out as an excellent option. As a reputable provider of Paint Protection Film in Bangalore, Autopad delivers top-tier PPF solutions that offer exceptional defence against road debris, UV rays, and everyday wear and tear. The experienced technicians here guarantee precise application, resulting in a seamless, nearly invisible finish that enhances your vehicle’s protection. With Autopad, you can thus drive with confidence, assured that your vehicle is protected from environmental damage and routine wear.

Resource: Read more

[vgrc-llc]

VINYL FENCE WASHING 🛠️ WHY CLEAN FENCES BOOST CURB APPEAL & LONGEVITY

A vinyl fence is more than just a property boundary—it’s a key part of your home’s curb appeal and overall value. But over time, Spokane County’s weather, dust, pollen, and mold can turn a bright white fence into a stained, green, and dingy eyesore.

At VGRC, LLC, we don’t just clean fences—we restore them. A dirty fence isn’t just an eyesore—it’s a sign that mold, algae, and GUNK are actively breaking down the material.

👷‍♀️🍃 Kc, The Pine Needle Warrior and 🥷 I, The Roof Ninja, are here to explain why regular vinyl fence washing is essential—and how VGRC restores fences to their original brilliance.

WHY VINYL FENCES NEED REGULAR CLEANING

Vinyl fences are low-maintenance, but not maintenance-free. Over time, exposure to weather, dirt, and organic buildup can cause:

🚨 Green & Black Mold Growth – Moisture buildup creates the perfect environment for mold, mildew, and algae.

🚨 Rusty & Brown Stains – Metal particles from rain and dust settle on fences, causing unsightly discoloration.

🚨 Pollen & Dust Buildup – Spokane’s trees release tons of pollen that sticks to vinyl and turns fences yellow or green.

🚨 Weakened Fence Panels – Algae, dirt, and grime reduce the fence’s lifespan, making it brittle and prone to cracking.

🚨 Pest Attraction – Moldy, dirty fences attract bugs and spiders, making them a breeding ground for pests.

💡 PRO TIP: A dirty vinyl fence isn’t just ugly—it’s breaking down faster than you think. Regular cleaning prevents mold from permanently staining or damaging the material!

WHY SPOKANE COUNTY HOMES NEED ROUTINE FENCE WASHING

Spokane County’s diverse weather patterns and tree-heavy landscape create the perfect storm for dirty fences.

🌲 Pine Trees = Sticky Pollen & Sap – Tree pollen sticks to fences, leaving behind yellow stains.

🌧️ Wet & Humid Weather = Mold & Algae Growth – Spokane’s moist climate fuels green and black streaks.

❄️ Winter Leaves Behind Stubborn Stains – Snow, ice, and road salt create streaky residue on fences.

☀️ Sunlight Bakes in Stains – Once dirt and algae settle in, UV rays bake them onto the surface, making them harder to remove.

💡 PRO TIP: Fence washing isn’t just about looks—it prevents long-term staining and material breakdown. The sooner you clean, the better!

THE VGRC DIFFERENCE: FENCE CLEANING DONE RIGHT

At VGRC, LLC, we go beyond a basic spray-down—we deep clean fences the right way to keep them looking new for years.

✅ SOFT WASHING = SAFE & EFFECTIVE CLEANING – Unlike pressure washing, which can crack and damage vinyl panels, soft washing removes dirt without harm.

✅ MOISTURE-RESISTANT TREATMENTS – We apply mold and algae inhibitors that slow down future growth.

✅ DEEP CLEANING FOR TOUGH STAINS – Whether it’s pollen, rust, or mildew, we break down tough stains at the root.

✅ PROTECTS YOUR INVESTMENT – A well-maintained fence lasts years longer and adds value to your home.

💡 PRO TIP: Pressure washing can strip the finish from vinyl fences. Soft washing is the safest, longest-lasting method to remove stains without causing cracks or damage.

THE DANGERS OF DIY FENCE CLEANING

Many homeowners try to clean their vinyl fences themselves but often make these costly mistakes:

🚫 Using Harsh Chemicals – Bleach and household cleaners can cause discoloration and weaken vinyl.

🚫 Scrubbing Too Hard – Rough scrubbing scratches the fence’s surface, making it easier for dirt to stick.

🚫 Ignoring the Bottom of the Fence – The base of the fence traps moisture, leading to hidden mold growth.

🚫 Using a Pressure Washer Incorrectly – High pressure can crack panels and force water inside the fence, leading to internal mold growth.

💡 PRO TIP: Professional fence cleaning lasts longer and prevents damage. A DIY mistake could leave your fence permanently discolored!

DON’T LET A DIRTY FENCE RUIN YOUR HOME’S LOOK! CALL VGRC TODAY!

Vinyl fence washing isn’t just about looks—it’s about protecting your investment, extending your fence’s lifespan, and boosting curb appeal.

VGRC, LLC is Spokane County’s top choice for fence cleaning and exterior maintenance. WE FLAT LINE THE GUNK!

💬 YOUR RECOMMENDATION IS OUR BIGGEST COMPLIMENT! (AND JUST AS GOOD AS A CLEAN SLATE!)

#TheRoofNinja #ThePineNeedleWarrior #VGRC #FenceCleaning #SpokaneCounty #VinylFence #HomeCare #NoMoreGUNK #RoutineMaintenance #HappyHome

[screenmobile]

How to Maintain a Screened Porch: A Practical Guide for Homeowners in South Bend

A screened porch is one of those home features that just makes life better. It’s a spot where you can sip coffee in the morning, unwind in the evening, and enjoy the fresh air—without worrying about bugs or unpredictable weather. But to keep that little slice of paradise looking good and functioning well, regular maintenance is key.

Now, don’t worry. We’re not talking about back-breaking work. A little attention here and there will keep your porch in top shape year-round. Whether you use it as an outdoor living room, a pet-friendly space, or a cozy reading nook, here’s what you need to know to keep it clean, comfortable, and long-lasting.

Keep the Screens Clean and Damage-Free

The screens are the heart of your porch—after all, they’re what keep the bugs and debris out. A little grime here and there is normal, but dirt buildup can block airflow and make your porch feel stuffy. Worse, small tears can turn into big problems if left unchecked.

How to Clean the Screens Without Damaging Them

Use a soft brush or vacuum with a brush attachment to remove loose dust and pollen.

Mix warm water with a mild detergent and gently scrub the screens using a soft sponge.

Rinse with a garden hose on low pressure (too much force can stretch or tear the mesh).

For stubborn dirt, a 50/50 mixture of white vinegar and water works wonders.

What About Small Tears or Holes?

A tiny hole might not seem like a big deal, but mosquitoes and other pests will find their way in. Here’s a quick fix:

For small holes: A drop of clear nail polish or household glue can seal it up.

For larger tears: Use a self-adhesive screen patch or replace the damaged section with a screen repair kit.

Sweep, Mop, and Protect the Flooring

Your screened porch flooring takes a beating from dirt, dust, and foot traffic—especially if you’re in and out all day. Regular cleaning keeps it looking fresh and prevents long-term wear and tear.

Routine Cleaning Steps:

Sweep or use a leaf blower at least once a week to remove debris.

Mop with a gentle cleaner every few weeks (avoid harsh chemicals that could damage wood or composite flooring).

If you have tile or stone, check for cracks and seal them as needed.

Preventing Water Damage and Mold

Even though your porch is covered, humidity and rain can still sneak in. South Bend weather can be unpredictable, so it’s smart to take a few precautions:

Use weatherproof rugs to protect wooden floors from moisture.

Keep an eye on mold—if you notice dark spots, a mixture of water and white vinegar can help keep them at bay.

Ensure proper drainage by checking that water doesn’t pool near the edges of the porch.

Maintain the Porch Structure: Railings, Beams, and Roof

A screened porch isn’t just about the screens—the overall structure needs attention, too. Wood, metal, and vinyl components can all deteriorate over time, so regular inspections will save you from costly repairs later.

Key Areas to Check:

Wood beams and railings – Look for signs of rot, splinters, or termite damage.

Metal components – Rust spots? A little sanding and rust-proof paint will do the trick.

Roof and ceiling – Check for leaks, sagging spots, or signs of water damage.

Seasonal Maintenance Tip

South Bend winters can be tough on porches. Before the snow hits:

Check the roof and support beams for weaknesses.

Ensure gutters are clear so melting snow doesn’t drip onto your porch floor.

Store outdoor furniture cushions indoors to prevent mildew buildup.

Keep the Bugs (and Critters) Out

A screened porch is supposed to be a bug-free oasis, but let’s be honest—those tiny pests are always looking for a way in.

How to Prevent Bugs from Sneaking Inside:

Seal gaps around doors and flooring with weatherstripping.

Keep lights to a minimum—bugs love porch lights, so opt for yellow bug-resistant bulbs.

Use citronella candles or essential oil sprays as natural repellents.

Dealing with Unwanted Visitors

Sometimes, bigger critters (like squirrels or raccoons) get curious. If you spot claw marks or hear rustling, check for loose or torn screens. If an animal has made a habit of visiting, consider installing a door sweep or a sturdier mesh along the lower portion of the porch.

Refresh the Space for Maximum Comfort

A well-maintained screened porch isn’t just about structure—it should feel like an inviting part of your home. Keeping it clean is one thing, but a little decorating and upkeep can make it even better.

Simple Ways to Keep Your Porch Looking Great:

Rotate furniture and cushions to prevent fading from sun exposure.

Add potted plants for a fresh, lively touch (just make sure they don’t attract pests).

Use outdoor-friendly curtains or shades for extra privacy and sun protection.

Install a ceiling fan to keep air circulating during hot summers.

Know When It’s Time for Professional Help

Some maintenance tasks are easy enough to handle yourself, but others? Not so much. If your screens are sagging, your flooring is warping, or you spot signs of structural damage, it’s worth calling in the pros.

Screenmobile South Bend specializes in screened porch repairs and upgrades, making sure your outdoor space stays in top condition. Whether you need a full rescreening, structural fixes, or even a complete porch makeover, they’ve got you covered.

Conclusion

Maintaining a screened porch doesn’t have to feel like a chore. A little regular cleaning, some quick fixes when needed, and seasonal checkups will keep it looking great year after year.

So, whether you’re relaxing with a book, hosting a family get-together, or just enjoying a quiet morning with your coffee, you can do it all without the hassle of bugs or weather damage.

If your porch needs a little extra care—or a full refresh—reach out to Screenmobile South Bend. They’ll help you keep your screened porch in perfect shape, so you can enjoy every season, stress-free.

[coochiehydrogreenseo]

Lawn Disease Control: Keep Your Grass Healthy & Green 🌱✨

A lush, green lawn is every homeowner’s dream, but lawn diseases can quickly turn that dream into a nightmare. Fungal infections like brown patch, dollar spot, and rust can spread fast, damaging your turf and leaving unsightly patches.

🔍 How to Spot Lawn Disease

Discolored Patches – Yellow, brown, or reddish areas.

Mold & Mildew – Powdery or slimy textures on the grass.

Thin or Wilting Grass – Even with proper watering, your lawn looks weak.

✅ Effective Lawn Disease Control

1️⃣ Aerate & Dethatch – Improve soil airflow and reduce excess moisture. 2️⃣ Proper Watering – Water in the early morning to prevent prolonged dampness. 3️⃣ Fertilize Wisely – Use the right nutrients to strengthen your lawn. 4️⃣ Fungicide Treatments – Targeted solutions for stubborn infections.

Don’t let lawn diseases ruin your yard! If you’re in Toowoomba, expert lawn care solutions are just a click away 👉 Coochie Lawn Services

#LawnCare #HealthyGrass #LawnDiseasePrevention