#Leaf spring shackle

[sujanindustries]

Getting to Know Your Suspension System - Sujan Industries

In the lifecycle of any vehicle, there comes a time when the ride doesn’t feel as smooth, when the bumps and ditches feel too pronounced, and when any rough patch on the road feels like the last patch you’ll ever drive your vehicle on. 

In a nutshell, it’s one of the most telltale signs pointing toward a suspension replacement.

But is a damaged suspension the only indicator of a bumpy ride? Well, not always. There might be other reasons as well.

To know for sure, you must acquaint yourself with your vehicle’s suspension system. We at Sujan Industries, one of the leading automotive rubber parts manufacturers in India, have come up with a comprehensive guide that’ll help you understand the ins and outs of your vehicle suspension. 

Read on.

1. Measure your Front Wheels’ Height

For this, you’ll require a tape measure. Using it, you must determine the spacing between the top of the tire to the bottom of the fender located on the driver’s side. 

Repeat this process for passenger sides as well and check whether there’s any difference in measurements. If there’s a variation of 2.5 cm or less, your vehicle should be fine.

However, if you notice a drastic difference between the two sides, it’s best to get your suspension checked.

2. Inspect the Strut Mounts

A suspension strut mount is an integral component of a suspension system and one which directly attaches the suspension strut to the vehicle. 

The inspection is a fairly simple process and one that doesn’t require you to jack up your vehicle. All you need to do is open up your vehicle’s hood and assess whether the struts or shock towers on either side are secured correctly. These usually extend through the fender above each wheel and are usually fastened via multiple nuts and bolts. 

Check for signs of rust or corrosion over regions where the fasteners go over. Tighten them if need be.

If you notice irreversible corrosive damage, it’s best to get the mounts replaced. 

3. Jack Up Your Vehicle

If both of the above steps don’t yield you any clues, it might be time to get under your vehicle for a first-hand inspection. So, bring out the jack, place it under the designated jack points (read the owner’s manual to know which is which), and lift the car. 

Once you’re under the car, you’ll have a better view and understanding of your vehicle’s suspension system. 

4. Look for Damage or Grease

If the underside of your car looks indistinguishable, you can bring out the torch as well. Start by inspecting the rubber bushings on each wheel, as these components separate the various metal sections of the suspension system. Bushings are typically black in color and tend to turn gray after long intervals of wear and tear. 

If your bushings are on the grayer side, it might be time for a replacement. Choose no other supplier other than Sujan Industries for this task, for we are purveyors of high-quality suspension systems and associated parts, including leaf spring shackle, bushings, mounts, and many more. 

Also, when inspecting bushings, don’t just pay attention to the color, as a bushing with its color intact can still be worn out. Look for cracks and tears as well. A worn-out bushing will no longer be capable of keeping the metals apart, leading to grindier and noisier operation.

If you find out that a bushing is completely missing from the suspension system, it’s best not to drive your car, as it can cause severe damage to the suspension. Get it replaced first before you turn on the ignition. 

5. Check the Ends of the Tie Rod

For this step, you’d require a bit of vehicle underside navigation. To get to the right part, locate the power steering box, and follow the arms to where it connects with the wheels. Your owner’s manual might have the exact specifications.

The tie rod is a vital component of your suspension strut mount and serves as an interface point between the wheels and the steering box. If bushings surrounding this part are damaged, it can lead to sloppier handling during turns and dead parts during steering, making driving extremely hazardous. It can also lead to bumpier rides. 

Wrapping Up

With these 5 essential tips in mind, you can better understand how your suspension system works, and take appropriate action to ensure smooth and seamless rides.

Check out Sujan Industries’ Website to know more about the suspension systems and associated parts we provide. Or get your customized needs known to us by getting in touch today!

[onlyhappyvibes]

That’s not good

[pomefioredove]

In my bones I know that Rook is the type of guy who loves to go exploring be it forest or man-made structures. With that in mind I have an idea for a fic:

MC!Reader & Rook Hunt making weekend dates out of exploring the unknown places on Sage Island. It's their little ritual that they take great joy in! From the restricted sections of Crowley's office to a small abandoned island off the coast they enjoy taking in sights meant for no-one else.

ROOK REQUEST!!! thank you I love him so muchhh... the fact that archeology becomes an interest of his is so adorable to me <3 rook baby let me take you out and tell you about the incan empire and dead languages and

summary: weekend dates with rook type of post: fic characters: rook additional info: romantic, established relationship, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, french warning, fluffy and cute <3

"One thousand words, one thousand, can you believe that?" you ask, twirling a perfectly-sharpened pencil between your fingers. It had yet to even graze the surface of the paper in your lap.

What a waste of wood.

You slump, leaning against the rough bark of an oak tree. A movement in the foliage overhead sends a deluge of leaves onto your lap, coloring the white of the empty paper with vibrant shades of green.

Rook emerges from the verdure above with a graceful plunk at your side.

"Five hundred each, chéri," he says, picking a leaf out of your hair and ignoring the ones on the notebook.

You tilt your head to the side, watching as he scales the tree again. "Yes, but I was under the impression we'd do it together,"

"Ah, a marvelous idea!" his voice calls out from overhead. "But that can wait for later, non? Come up and see this robin's nest I've uncovered!"

You chuckle. Even with the deadline looming nearer, you couldn't help but indulge him.

Crowley's words still rung fresh in your mind: "Five hundred words on the evil of trespassing. Each!"

Admittedly, seeing the man actually get angry was both amusing and unsettling. You supposed digging around the secret chamber behind his office was pushing it, but how could you resist Rook's charming smile when he said he'd found a trap door and wished to explore it together?

How were you supposed to know that passage would end up in Crowley's office, anyway?

"Mm?" Rook's head pokes out from the leaves again. "Are you coming, Trickster?"

You had begun to fill out that nickname quite nicely.

You set aside the pencil and paper (still untouched) in favor of scaling the lowest branches of the tree. You'd become quite the climber since meeting Rook.

"Ah, the way you so carelessly toss aside your obligations, as if freeing yourself from the shackles of the modern world!" Rook sings, offering a hand to help you onto the branch he's sat atop.

You can't help a smile as he guides you onto the thick part of the branch in front of him. "It was rather symbolic, wasn't it?"

"Chéri, if only I had the time, I would write a poem for every little thing you do," he sighs dreamily. "Come, miel, join me in being wild."

He cups your chin and guides your gaze to a curve where two branches meet, only an arm's-length away. Nestled in the heart of it is a small, delicate, cup-shaped nest, filled with baby blue eggs.

"Très magnifique," he comments, his voice breathless and soft. "The miracle of life. A sign that spring has returned once more, putting Monsieur L'Hiver to rest."

"They are beautiful... will they hatch soon?"

"Ah, that depends on how you define "soon". Robins incubate for but two weeks," he says. "Soon for us, but half a lifetime for them..."

His ensuing sigh is soft and contented, almost distracting you from the feeling of his arms finding their way around your waist, and his chin resting on your shoulder.

"Mm... I could stay here all day. Have you slept in a tree before, chéri?"

You've learned by now not to take such comments as jokes, although you're sure he already knows what the answer is.

You smile, your sweet tone tinged with the faintest hint of mischief. "No, not recently,"

"It has been a long time for me. Sometimes I fear I've become too domesticated... c'est bien I have you to bring out the wild animal in me again, hm?"

He chuckles to himself before promptly burying his face in the crook of your neck again, breathing you in.

You lean back into him, earning a little squeeze from his arms. Perhaps you could stay here all day, if not for...

"The essay..." you murmur.

Rook laughs again. "It can wait. I will gladly chance the ire of our headmage and my housewarden..." he clicks his tongue. "Taking risks for you is a delight I cannot help but indulge in."

[al-zel]

Explaining every H:SR characters name, Part 1-- The Astral Express Crew!

I’ll put a symbol →(!!!) on every section that has a potential spoiler.

Stelle: A shortened version of the French name Estelle, meaning “star”. This name was derived from the Latin word “stella”. As for how it applies to the character, I’m sure it’s meant to show that the trailblazers true place is among the astral express exploring the cosmos. It might also be a reference to the Stellarons appearance.

Caelus: Derived from the Latin word “caelum”, Caelus is a name that means “sky” or “the heavens”. This name also belonged to the Roman god of the sky. It’s a little more convoluted than Stelle’s more straightforward name, but I think it holds the same narrative meaning as Caelus (the god) has heavy ties to the planet Jupiter, fitting the space theme. It's also the most yellow planet aside from Venus, (which is more associated with the color green due to how it appears in the sky anyway).

March 7th, DH, WY, and Himeko under cut!!

(!!!!) March 7th: It is the day March was found, but the specific date can bring some symbolism to mind. The month of march signals the beginning of of spring, a season full of new growth and revival from the stasis that winter brings. This fits into March’s character arc in her companion quest, as the garden of recollection locks away her past, essentially saying that It’s not something March should be remembering or looking for, implying something awful or traumatizing has happened to her. This shows that without those memories, March may have turned from a cold, "icy" character into a warmer, healthier one. 7 is also a lucky number, as it was very lucky that March has survived so long drifting in space and frozen, even if it was in 6 phase ice.

(!!!) Dan Heng: The character 丹 (Dān) simply means red, although it can also be pellet, powder, or cinnabar. I think this is mainly to tie in with Dan Heng’s maple leaf theme. The character 恒 (Heng) means “constant” or “persistent”, a nod to Dan Heng’s collected and steady nature compared to his eccentric companions. It may also be a reference to Dan Heng’s rebirths as a Vidyadhara or the number of years he spent inside of the Shackling Prison as Dan Feng.

Welt Yang: “Welt” is said to be the “name of the world”, but it’s really just the German word for world. “Yang” (杨) is Welt’s mother’s surname, meaning willow, poplar, or aspen, all three of them different trees. I don’t think that either of these names imply anything about Welt’s story, aside from the mantle of "welt" given to him by Welt Joyce, whoch is another post altogether. I think they highlight his responsible, powerful, and thoughtful character, as well as his sentimentality.

(!!!) (Welt Yang) Joachim Nokianvirtanen: Joachim is an abridged or contracted form of the biblical name Jehoiachin or Jehoiakim. They mean "Yaweh will establish" and "raised by Yaweh" respectively. Yaweh is a name of the Hebrew god, with possible roots to the old Semitic root הוה (hawah), meaning "to be" or "to become." This name is a probable reference to Welt inheriting his mentors Herrscher core and becoming the second Herrscher of Reason. His surname, Nokianvirtanen, is not an actual last name, but a mix of two names. The first part, Nokian, is a town in Finland. The second, Virtanen, is a common surname in finland derived from the word "virta", meaning "stream." I don't interpret this surname to have any meaning aside from establishing that Welt is (not confirmed outright, but heavily implied to be) ethnically half Finnish and half Chinese.

(!!!) Himeko Murata (無量塔姫子): Her first name is comprised of the characters 姫 (hime), meaning princess, and 子 (ko), meaning child. Put the whole thing together and it means "princess child", though I'm sure I didn't have to tell you that! I think it's less about her personality and story (especially in regards to Honkai Impact 3rd), but I think it represents her parents live for her, particularly her father's, as he's the one we know most about. The characters for her last name are-- 無 (Mu; nothing/nothingness), 量 (Ra(?); measurement, but with two connotations. First, it can mean a measurement, like weight or quantity, or it can mean "to measure" by estimate or actual documentation, or "to consider."), and 塔 (Ta; pagoda, tower, steeple). I think the most important part of her name is that last part-- in both universes, Himeko acts as a rock or mentor figure to many characters, being a motherly/older sister type towards the young trio of the express, and a teacher and squad leader toward Kiana, Mei, and Bronya, going as far as to strap a bomb to Mei's heart to keep her powers in check (with Mei's consent) should she lose control. 

And that's the Astral Express crew! I'm going by groups of characters divided into: Stellaron Hunters, Herta's Space Station, Belobog, The Xianzhou Loufu, and Penacony! (Characters are ordered by introduction. Characters will be put where they were first shown, despite their relevance in other places. Dr. Ratio, for example, will be put with the HSS characters instead of the Penacony category.)

[helveticandy]

Here is some smut I wrote quite a while back :P. I wrote it before I knew of HDG but i guess I can use it as a stepping stone to writing HDG stuff. The character is a cis female in this one.

TW: non con

Tentacles/vines/sci-fi

Amelia lowers her sleek ship into the pit on the planet’s surface, its blue thrusters kicking up foliage and making the dark plants dance. Its tripod landing gear extends and touches down on the mossy ground, gradually taking the entire load of the ship until the thrusters fully power down, clicking with the undoing of thermal expansion.

Amelia pulls a lever and lowers the loading ramp onto the moist surface. A small laser hologram grabs a few particles in the air, swinging it around making it let off a soft hum. The image warps into a small screen and shows the atmosphere to be breathable and, despite being under a red sun, safe temperatures. Amelia goes back inside the ship for a moment to take off her suit, coming back out in her skin tight jumpsuit and boots, an emergency belt slung over her shoulder as she descends. She had always hated wearing the suits, they got too hot too quick.

The trip had been a long one, the starship’s air always got stuffy after a week or two in the recycler. She had always been tempted to open a few pure oxygen containers to restore the fresh scent but had thought it best to do otherwise.

Amelia takes a long draw of breath through her nose, holding it for a few moments, noting the humidity and greenhouse like smell before exhaling through her mouth. She glances at the hologram.

Time to get this mission done.

She had been sent to this planet so affectionately called [C116-A2] to take readings on the environment. The heavy clouds had obscured the satellites and the probes were all unable to find a foothold due to the ground absorbing their scanner signals. This planet has been a massive resource sink and there are billions more planets to explore. Amelia was essentially a last ditch effort from command before giving up. So she wasn’t given much other than a few basic samplers and a light.

She pushes through the underbrush, the plants are a dark coloration from millions of years of evolution to absorb as much light from their dwarf sun as possible. Amelia gets on her knees and attaches a small white sampler to a leaf. It whirs for a few seconds before blinking green, letting off a cheerful ding, and pricking a hole in the plant like a hole punch. Immediately storing it away in preservative to be taken back to the lab.

Amelia goes around quickly to an assortment of different plants and mosses that cover the environment. Each one chiming in sequence.

She spends the next few Earth hours digging around and recollecting samples. When she is done hauling back all the samples she sits down on the soft ground and lets out an exhausted sigh. Although the nano fabrics of the jumpsuit did their best, sweat was starting to stain it. Nothing a wash can’t fix, she thinks.

She doesn’t even register a nearby plant vine slithering through the brush and opening up to reveal a small prong. By the time she realizes and jumps up to run, its too late, the vine springs forward and stabs into her thigh.

Amelia yelps with shock and rips off the vine. Throwing it back where it came from. Her steps start smoothly but begin to trip over each other as she staggers toward her ship. Her vision tunnels away into a point as she reaches forward. Falling limp onto the ground. Unconscious.

————-

Amelia can feel the dark warmth of the red sun against her eyelids, the ground moist against her back. Her thoughts are a slurry as she tries to form a coherent thought.

What happened?

She tries to roll over but finds that she is incapable of doing so, rings of vines have shackled her to the moss. When she tries to lift her head up another rope of vine has restrained her by the neck. A set of vines squirm against her inner thigh and wrap over where her legs meet her hips into more looping chains of plants.

Shit shit shit. God damnit. I should have worn my fucking suit.

Amelia frantically brings up her cognator to check her vitals.

Pulse, good. Breathing rate, a little higher than normal. Blood, stable. Nutrience, Perfect. Everything is surprisingly ok. Hell, things look great. Wait, what is it doing?!

An exploratory probe vine finds the seam of fabric around her ankle where her jumpsuit meets her skin. It wriggles into the jumpsuit and begins to slither up Amelia’s leg.

Amelia does her best to kick away but the fibers of the vines are like vices. Noticing the fightback, the vine going up Amelia's jumpsuit starts to secrete moisture. Lubricating its way up her back and once around her waist. Eventually to the edge of the jumpsuit’s inbuilt bra.

Amelia arches upward in reaction to the wetness, straining every limb against the foliage. But it strains back, Amelia lets out a sharp and pathetic moan.

It's not hurting me, per say… and my vitals are ok….

She squeezes her thighs together and another vine senses the heat. Bolting for her core. It slides up from the ground and meets the firm fabric protecting Amelia's slick warmth.

No way Im wet from this… I mean… I guess it couldn't hurt…. For science, right?

Amelia untenses her muscles, letting her legs be pulled apart ever so slightly by the vines. The vines take advantage, going up through the thin seams of her sleeves and legs. The jumpsuit strained to keep a skin tight fit. They lubricate themselves and glide across her body, ghosting against her nipple with thin strands while others massage her inner thighs and gently squeeze her neck.

Amelia takes a sharp breath when she feels the two vines on her inner thigh travel to the outer lips of her warmth. Leaving trails of slime. They hold there with a gentle pressure all the while the other vines lift her hips from the ground and spread her a little further. The vines around her outer lips brush against Amelia's clit. She shivers and lets out a soft breath. Feeling herself get a little wetter. The plants feel the moisture and send smaller, string-like tendrils against either side of Amelia's clit and begin massaging out bolts of pleasure that make her hiss out a moan.

The tendril that had laid itself between Amelia's legs digs at the outside of her jumpsuit. Finding a hold and tearing the meticulously engineered nanofiber until there was a hole large enough for it to reveal Amelia's slit to the humid air. The vine draws itself from Amelia's clit down to the source of her moisture. Instinct kicks in and it laps at her warmth, absorbing moisture made with each carnal wave of pleasure. Amelia, through the haze of enjoyment, feels the vines tense up for a moment. The one drinking up her wetness pauses, then, slithers inside of her. It presses up against her g-spot and her mind goes blank. Her muscles in her core and thighs tensing up with the rhythm of the vine within her.

Amelia writhes and moans in ecstasy, the only thing holding her back being the dark, alien vines as she reaches her peak. Falling over the edge into rippling shockwaves of orgasm.

The vines lay Amelia against the soft moss, where they rub out the places they wrapped a little too tightly. Once done, they retreat back into the brush. Leaving Amelia still panting in the quiet clearing in which not moments ago had echoed her moans.

I… Would consider this… successful….

Holy fuck I needed that…

She takes a few moments before getting up, walking to her ship while still shaking with light aftershocks of pleasure and endorphins. She sits in the cockpit, raises up the ramp, completes the startup sequence, and begins her journey to drop off the plant samples at the lab stationed on Europa. She pulls up her holographic screen and marks a personal note about the planet.

[visit again soon]

[fanficwriting1]

Steeds of the Valar Chapter 6 (Previously titled A Tale of Smoke and Flame)

Bilbo stared at the elf. 

A flood of memories rushed to the forefront of his mind, and part of the ache in his heart that had always existed after the loss of so many of his kind, was eased. “Rise.” he said, not able to feel any embarrassment for the crack in his voice.

Estien rose from the ground. His silvery gaze was gentle and familiar, and Bilbo smiled. “It has been too long, my friend.” 

“Indeed it has.” Estien’s voice was soft and smooth, like gentle rivers in the spring. He caught sight of the ankle around Bilbo’s ankle and knelt once more, frowning at the shackle. “I will try to remove this-” his hands reached towards it. 

“That is unnecessary.” Bilbo drew his foot away. As happy as he was to see his old friend, they had more pressing matters. “There is a dwarf that requires immediate healing. He’s been injured by the wights.”

Estien’s frown deepened, eyes flicking towards the dwarrow. He sighed, rising. “Very well. But we must address your new . . .” his nose wrinkled, “ . . . accessory as soon as possible. Such a thing will only prove to be detrimental to you in the long run.” 

Bilbo nodded. 

The dwarrow had now taken notice of Estien, and drew their weapons. 

“What’s a treeshagger doing here?” Bofur asked. 

“He is willing to help Kili.” Bilbo said. “He can heal him.”

“I will not entrust my nephew’s life to a treeshagger .” Thorin growled. 

Estien appraised Thorin. “I do not seek to harm him. I am a healer, no harm shall befall your nephew.”

“You shall never meet a healer as skilled as Estien.” Bilbo said. “I will vouch for his talents, but he must be able to touch Kili, otherwise he will be unable to help him.”

Thorin swallowed hard, and his eyes hardened. “Very well, but know this - if Kili should perish under this treeshagger’s care, it will be your head, halfling.”

It was an unreasonable threat, but it was made by a dwarf who was pale and very clearly worried for his nephew’s life, so Bilbo pushed it aside. He nodded to Estien.

Estien glided to Kili’s side, casting a quick glance towards Bilbo. Fili looked at Estien nervously, hands pressed against Kili’s chest. Estien placed a gentle hand on Fili’s shoulder, whispering to him. Fili reluctantly nodded and removed his hands from Kili’s chest, going to stand near his uncle.

Estien made quick work of Kili’s shirt and pressed around the injury. Satisfied with what he found, he held his hands against the wound and began to mutter.

The dwarrow gasped as they watched the bleeding from Kili’s wound become sluggish, and Kili’s eyes fluttered open from a brief moment.

“I will need to take him to Rivendell.” Estien said, standing. “I cannot properly heal him here, it requires more strength than I have.” 

Thorin nodded, face grim. His hatred of the elves was eclipsed by the worry for Kili’s life. 

Estien scooped Kili up into his arms (something that the dwarrow would look back on with surprise, not expecting a tree-shagger to lift a dwarf like a leaf and move so quickly.)

The light outside the barrow was glaring and they found Gandalf there with their ponies along with a sleek, gray mare. His brows lowered as he spotted Kili in Estien’s arms.

“The wights got him,” was Bilbo’s short explanation.

Estien handed Kili to Gandalf to mount his horse. When he did so, Gandalf passed Kili up to Estien. “I will head off first.”

Thorin growled. “We shall go with you.”

“Your ponies will be unable to keep up with my steed. Follow as quickly as you are able, but I should go as fast as I can. If left much longer, your nephew shall perish.”

It was a lie. Kili was not in any danger of dying. Estien held the power to heal and protect near immediately. His heading ahead was to ensure that the dwarrow did not know. Estien would head to Rivendell, finishing healing him on the way, tuck him into a room, and claim that it was with all the help of the elves that they were able to complete healing Kili. 

Thorin acquiesced. “We will follow right behind you. If I find anything wrong with him when we get there.” 

“Peace. Your nephew will be saved. I give you my word.” Estien said before turning, his horse racing away quickly. 

“On your horses, everyone!” Thorin barked, quickly mounting and charging off after Estien, the rest of the group following shortly, with the sound of thundering hooves. 

Bilbo went to mount Minty but found his strength leaving him once more to crumple to the earth. Minty snuffled his hair, nudging him to get on. “I know, girl.” Bilbo said, nausea settling in his stomach. She made a gentle whine, and he felt a gentle hand placed on his shoulder. 

“What is the matter, my dear boy?” Gandalf asked. He had not mounted yet, clearly waiting for Bilbo. 

It was not the time to mention the shackle to Gandalf, it would only delay their travels. “Nothing,” he said, forcing himself to his legs. He took a deep breath and gave Minty an appreciative pat when she lowered herself enough for Bilbo to mount. “Off we go,” he told Gandalf, and Minty took off.

—

They caught up to the company relatively quickly. The company was silent as they pushed, trying to get to Rivendell as quickly as possible. Their pacing slowed as they heard something from within the trees, crashing and drawing near to them.

Suddenly a disheveled man, carried by a sled pulled by rabbits shot into the path. The ponies reared back in surprise, knocking a few of their riders off. The dwarrow were quick to respond, drawing their weapons, prepared to face the new threat.

“Thieves! Fire! Murder!” 

Gandalf held up a hand towards the dwarrow. “Radagast!” He greeted the man, and then to the dwarrow, “It’s Radagast the Brown.”

Not looking much comforted by the explanation, the dwarrow shifted uneasily on their ponies, who themselves were looking uneasy. 

The man jumped off his sled and raced over to Gandalf, who led him a ways from the group. Bilbo followed, Radagast not noticing as he spoke in hushed whispers. 

“The Greenwood is sick, Gandalf. A darkness has fallen over it. Nothing grows anymore, at least nothing good. The air is foul with decay. But worse are the webs.”

“Webs? What do you mean?”

“Spiders, Gandalf. Giant ones. Some kind of spawn of Ungoliant, or I am not a wizard. I followed their trail, they came from Dol Guldur, and headed east.”

“Towards the Lonely Mountain, no doubt.” Bilbo said. 

“Mathrien!” Radagast greeted Bilbo with a smile. 

“It is good to see you, Radagast.” Bilbo responded. “I fear that forces are gathering at the Lonely Mountain, for purposes wicked and dark. We had an encounter with the wights on our travels - they were able to go beyond their lands and reach us near here.” 

Radagast’s eyes darted around. “Dark, indeed.” he muttered. “The animals in the forest have been dying, nothing good, no. No, nothing good.” The wizard seemed to retreat back into his own mind as he thought.

Minty whinnied from behind him. Bilbo’s ears perked. “Gandalf.” 

There was a snarl and a warg shot from the trees into the group. A cry came from the dwarrow as they made quick work dispatching the warg. 

“We have to get out of here.” Dwalin growled.

“We don’t have any ponies!” Gloin shouted. 

The ponies had bolted with the appearance of the warg, except for Minty who shuffled near Bilbo.

Gandalf turned to Thorin. “Who did you tell of the quest beyond your kin?” 

“No one.” he growled.

“Who?” Gandalf asked with urgency.

“Gandalf, it wasn’t him.” Bilbo said.

Gandalf’s face darkened as he came to a realization he didn’t want to come to. “Follow me.” 

“I’ll draw them off!” Radagast shouted. 

“These are Gundabad Wargs, they’ll outrun you!”

Radagast smirked. “These are Rhosgobel rabbits! I’d like to see them try!” Without saying anything else, Radagast took off.

 “We follow Gandalf,” Thorin said.

Bilbo turned to Minty, brushing a fond hand across her snout. “You have been a fine steed and companion, Minty.” Minty snorted, bumping his shoulder and tossing her head back to the saddle. “I’m afraid this is where we part. Lead the other ponies to Rivendell, and may we meet again there.” He quickly removed the bags and saddle gear off of her. “Go.”

Minty pawed the ground, giving him a look that seemed to warn him of what would happen if he didn’t show up at Rivendell, before racing off into the trees. 

The dwarrow followed close behind Gandalf as they sought to avoid the attention of the wargs and orcs. They all grew tired as Gandalf seemed to lead them in random directions, hiding behind rocks to avoid getting caught.

“Balin!” Thorin said, yanking the dwarf back as he went to go beyond the cover of a rock. “How much further?” Thorin asked, still gripping the edge of Balin’s collar.

“Not much,” Gandalf said, eyes searching the rocks. He seemed to find what he was looking for and gestured for the dwarrow to follow when there came a scraping noise on the rock as a warg climbed on. 

Thorin gestured to Nori. Nori nodded, jumping out from behind the rock and sending a knife towards the orc.

It was too late. The orc blew the horn, a knife going through his throat too late. Nori looked dismayed, but the rest of the dwarrow killed the warg and then took off running, the wargs close behind.  

The dwarrow were growing tired, and Bilbo himself felt weary, the restraint taking more and more of his strength. Gandalf disappeared at some point, and the dwarrow found themselves surrounded. 

“Where’s Gandalf?” Fili asked.

“Has he abandoned us?” Dwalin growled.

“This way, you fools!” Gandalf hissed, waving to them from a rock, and disappearing once more.

“Head to the rock!” Thorin yelled. “To the wizard!” 

One by one the dwarrow made it to the rock and dropped down, scraping past orcs and wargs, trying to kill the ones they could. 

Bilbo was further behind the group and he could feel the heat of the wargs behind him. 

“Burglar!” Thorin shouted from the edge of the rock. Bilbo raced towards the rock, his hands itching to grab the blade in his hands, but hesitated as he saw Thorin watching.

He heard a whiney and was shocked to see Minty barrelling towards him out from the trees. She raced towards his side.

Thorin was about to jump towards them when he seemed to disappear for a moment, and Bilbo took that chance to attack. 

He dodged the jaws of the approaching warg and slid between its legs. The blade slid from under his waistcoat, whipping up, gleaming in the light, and slamming into the gut of the warg. He twisted the weapon viciously, and the warg howled in response, falling. It was returned to under his coat just as quickly. The wargs stopped and whined, pacing uncomfortably in their spots.  

He turned to the wargs, wiping away some of the blood that had gotten on his face. “Hurt her and even the Valar will not forgive you.” The wargs' eyes flicked between Bilbo, Minty, and the warg that had fallen to the ground. 

Bilbo grunted as a sudden pulse came from the shackle, once more depriving him of the strength of his legs. He fell, and Minty was there trying to keep him from falling the rest of the way. He cursed the restraint, trying to push Minty away and get her to run. 

The wargs howled in delight, and took the chance Bilbo’s weakness provided them, lunging forward, snarling. One of their claws caught Minty’s side and she let out a pained cry. Bilbo’s felt fury clouded his vision and cursed the weakness that had taken him.  

Estien came in, blades swinging. The wargs fell dead as the elf slid gracefully from his horse, dual blades shining in his grasp. More wargs raced forward, but they fell dead before they knew what was happening. Estien fought like a dance, lithe limbs reaching and arching to some unheard music, foes falling dead around him. 

Bilbo sighed in relief. 

“Are you alright, my liege?” Estien checked over him worriedly for injuries. He waved away his concern. “I’m fine, it’s the shackle. It's making me weak, we’ll address it later. Take Minty to Rivendell. Make sure her injuries are seen to and she’s fed. See if you can find the ponies that have gone off.”

Estien nodded, giving a quick bow before reaching out to Minty. She seemed to immediately take to him, rubbing her snout in his hand. Bilbo snorted. “I shall see you in Rivendell, my friend.”

Estien took off with his steed and Minty following close behind. Bilbo made it the rest of the way to the rock and slid down into the group of dwarrow below.

— 

The dwarrow looked around in reluctant awe of Rivendell. Thorin was having none of that as he marched towards the entrance where elves stood to greet them. 

“We have been informed of your arrival.” A brown-haired elf informed them. “Your nephew is sleeping soundly. He is out of harm’s way and should wake in a day or two.” 

“Show me to him,” Thorin demanded.

There was a clatter as a party came over the bridge, armor shining. They came into the courtyard, all of them dismounting smoothly and removing their helmets. The tallest made their way over to Bilbo, giving a deep bow. “Welcome, Lord Mathrien. It has been a long time since your last visit.”

Bilbo cast a look towards the dwarven group to make sure nobody heard. It appeared that Thorin had already headed in, far more concerned about Kili than an elven lord he did not like. The rest of the dwarrow had done the same. Bilbo turned back to Elrond.  “I appreciate the greeting, but among this group I wish to be addressed as Bilbo. The name has been with me for a long while and suits me as I am now.”

Elrond nodded. “Of course, Bilbo.” He held out his hand towards the entrance. “Shall we?” 

—

Rivendell was just as beautiful and serene as Bilbo remembered. He had been there many times, but not in the last decade or two. He was always comforted by the peace that was offered there, it reminded him of older days when he dwelt with his Valar and when there had been no conflict. 

The soft vibrance of the surrounding lands and trees was gentle on his eyes and the continuous rush of waters seemed to settle some straining pressure in his chest he hadn’t realized was there. The air smelled of damp earth, pine, and light, carried by on the gentle breeze that wound itself around in the valley. 

He found himself at peace while he walked with Elrond, admiring the scenery, at least until another ache came from the shackle. He paused in the walk and asked to be shown to a seat. Gandalf and Estien soon found them, Elrond listening to the recounting his encounter with the wights.

Gandalf prodded at the metal shackle with his staff. “This is a problem,” he said.

Bilbo swatted the staff away. “The wight put it on me. I can only assume it was Raldag’s doing.” He could feel the shackle sapping his power, like a parasite draining him of blood. He was hardly able to use his power, all of it getting devoured as quickly as it was generated. 

Estien knelt on the ground and eyed the shackle with distaste. “I can wrap the skin around it to try to prevent some of the drainage you’re experiencing with your power.” He pulled a strip of leather out of his bag. 

Bilbo could feel Estien’s power on the leather as it went under the shackle. As it slipped under, the flow of his power to the shackle was stemmed. He breathed in relief as the dark feeling slid away, not completely, but receding. 

He shuddered each time the shackle rose above the fabric and brushed his skin.

“Thank you.”

“Might I offer you a gift, Lord Mathrien?” Elrond stepped into the room. “I can sense the evil within your restraint, and would like to gift you with this.” He held out a small ring that was a dull silver. “It may not seem to be much, but it has been enchanted and should help to lessen the burden of the shackle. I will have some of my scholars begin looking into a potential removal method.”

“I shall go with them,” Gandalf said. “I haven’t seen such a creation, and would be well off to know how to counteract it.” He left in the direction of the library. 

Bilbo turned to Elrond. “Thank you for providing Estien with a home as well, Lord Elrond. It is much appreciated.”

Elrond chuckled. “I should be thanking Estien. I have him to thank for the lives of many of my residents. And very much as of late; there have been many more attacks in our lands, and many who strive to protect this land have been fatally wounded, and would have died without his help.” 

Bilbo frowned. “How long has Estien been here for?”

“The last century, at least. We tried to send you messages, even through couriers, but it became apparent that something would not allow them to inform you.” 

“Vela passed along here some time ago.”

Bilbo’s heart dropped. “Was she well?”

Elrond gazed at him seriously. “She was not without her own injuries.”

Vela was one of his kin - one who Bilbo considered most like a sister, and it had hurt the most to lose her. He doubted there were any of his kin that had made it out of that night unharmed, but he had desperately hoped she had. 

A hand was pressed on his shoulder. “Vela’s strong. I have no doubt you’ll see her again, my liege.” Estien’s voice was gentle. Bilbo nodded. 

“I would like to offer you a room near Estien’s, if that suits you, Bilbo.” he inclined his head respectfully.

Bilbo was grateful for the offer and opened his mouth to accept when a voice cut in.  

“The burglar will remain with the company.” Thorin’s voice came from behind Bilbo and he was startled. He hadn’t heard Thorin come up behind them, and that was concerning - if he was unable to sense when people were even approaching him, that the shackle was more concerning than he had thought. 

“You cannot dictate where Bilbo decides to sleep, Thorin Oakenshield,” Estien said, lips pursed. 

“ Bilbo is part of my company. The company doesn’t separate from one another at night.” 

“Come, Bilbo,” Thorin said, walking away from the group to wait a few paces away. 

A growl came from Estien. “I understand his use on this quest, but that does not mean I’m against harming those who dare to command you, my liege.” 

Bilbo cast him a glance. “Need I remind you, Thorin Oakenshield is 195? That’s quite young to consider harming, Estien. Especially when he simply is acting like the child he is.”

Estien frowned but quieted. 

Bilbo turned to Elrond. “I would appreciate it if you could show Thorin and me to the dining room. I believe it’s nearly time to eat?”

Elrond laughed softly. “Of course, Bilbo.”

—

The soft lilting notes of harps whispered through the air. The openness of the room allowed the company to feel the warm breezes from outside. 

The meal that had been prepared for them by the elves could be described with one word: green. 

“Eat,” Dori nudged Ori. “They’re good for you.”

Ori speared a piece of lettuce on his fork, eyeing it warily as he stuck out his tongue to taste. Displeasure showed on his face, and it was with a heavy sigh he placed the forkful in his mouth and began chewing.

Dori nodded, satisfied, and looked at Nori’s plate, turning back to his own food when he saw there wasn’t much left. Unbeknownst to him, Nori was slowly dropping the contents of his plate onto the floor by sneaking it under his sleeve and then under the table. Bilbo gave him a pointed look, raising a brow. Nori held a finger to his lips, casting a glance towards his other brother. 

“I believe that food was meant to make it into your mouth and not the floor, Master Nori,” Bilbo said. 

Nori looked at him, betrayed. 

“What food?” Dori asked, checking under the table. “Nori!” he swatted the dwarf on the arm. He loaded Nori’s plate back up with much more than he’d previously had, and kept a much closer eye on him than before. 

The Ur brothers were already eating with gusto, Bifur looking to be the one enjoying it the most. Thorin had eaten quickly and returned to the room that Kili was resting in. 

Gloin grumbled. “These treeshaggers want us to starve! What kind of food is this?”

“Healthy, and the food we had available at your arrival.” Elrond entered the room. “As much as I am sure you wish, your bodies aren’t capable of being sustained only on meat.” he sat at the head table, next to Gandalf.

“In all my years of living, I have never once needed to eat the food you treeshaggers do.”

Elrond rose a brow. “And who lives the longest between us, Master Gloin?”

Bilbo fought back a chuckle. Though not apparent to the dwarrow, there was a teasing light in Elrond’s eyes. There was little correlation between eating vegetables and an elf’s long life, but Elrond's words made Gloin quiet, so there was little need to mention it. 

“Is this all you plan on givin' us? Rabbit food? Dwalin asked. He was looking the most displeased at their food options though he had not been very vocal.

“Of course not.” Elrond smiled. “Although we elves hardly eat any meat, I would not hold you to the same. We have meat being prepared, it simply took longer than the food we already had on hand.”

Dwalin grunted in satisfaction. 

Bilbo ate as well. Like the dwarrow, this wasn’t his preferred food, but he could appreciate it - one simply doesn’t live among hobbits without developing an appreciation for food, no matter what the dish. 

—

Kili laid in the bed, noticeably pale, but his breathing was even and relaxed. He was curled slightly towards the sun that came into the room. Fili was curled next up to him as well, hand clasping his brother’s. He had come in earlier, and fallen asleep on the bed. 

Thorin brushed back the locks of hair that had fallen into Kili’s face and sank into one of the chairs next to the bed. His hands shook slightly and he clasped them together to get it to stop. The fear he’d felt when the blade had fallen remained in his chest.

He’d promised Dis that no matter what happened on their quest, no harm would befall the boys. The memory of the night he’d left rose up. 

Thorin sat on a small stool, smoking a pipe. He’d been discussing leaving to begin the journey tonight and was waiting for everyone to gather. Dis moved around the small area they called a kitchen, rag grasped in her hands as she turned towards Thorin.

“If anything happens to Fili or Kili, know I will have your head, Thorin.”

He looked up. Fili and Kili had been adamant about desiring to go on the journey, and they were old enough to take it. He had a small desire to stop them - the quest would do them good and they would be able to confidently take their places as princes once they helped recover their home. 

“I promise they’ll be fine, Dis. I’ll be there to protect them if anything happens.” 

Dis wrung the towel she held, swallowing hard.

Thorin rose from where he sat and drew Dis into a tight embrace, kissing the top of her head. Ever since the death of her husband, Dis had become far more prone to worry.

“It will be okay, namad.”

She gripped his shirt for a brief moment before pushing away. “I will take not only your beard but your family jewels if you don’t keep your promise.”

Thorin laughed. “I’d expect nothing else.”

Thorin pressed his palms against his eyes. He’d been a fool to promise such a thing. He’d failed Dis. He wasn’t able to protect Kili.

He stepped into the room. Thorin sat by Kili’s bed, fingers pressed together and steepled at his lips. Fili snored softly on the bed as well, hand clasping Kili’s. As the sun fell upon his back, Thorin found himself slipping into an uneasy slumber.

–

Bilbo had escaped the dining room. After the meat had arrived, the dwarrow had become like a pack of ravenous wargs, and the alcohol in their systems made them seem even more so. It was because of this that he found himself walking down the halls, enjoying the quiet. 

As he passed a room, he doubled back to check back in. 

Thorin sat in a chair, fast asleep. Head tilted downward, arms folded across his chest, his feet against the ground and legs spread out in a v - Thorin Oakenshield looked most decidedly uncomfortable. The scowl he wore when awake seemed to make an appearance when he slept as well. Bilbo went to walk by when he paused, looking back in.

He was unsure what made him do it, but he found himself walking into the room and standing to the side of Thorin, eyes pursuing Thorin’s face. Strands of ebony hair had fallen over Thorin’s eyes, and Bilbo had a strange want to push it away so he could see Thorin’s face better. 

Quickly shaking the thought out of his mind, Bilbo nabbed the extra blanket that had been placed at the end of the bed. Thorin would be more comfortable with a blanket over him, at least that's what Bilbo told himself. He reached to place the blanket over Thorin, but a hand shot out and gripped Bilbo’s wrist before he could do so.

Bilbo froze, the blanket in his grasp hovering awkwardly over Thorin, prevented by Thorin’s hand on his wrist. Thorin groaned and his eyes opened, squinting into the darkness.

“Burglar?” Thorin asked. “What are you doing?”

Bilbo had no idea as to why he felt so embarrassed about trying to put a blanket over someone, but an uncomfortable heat crawled up from his stomach, burning his cheeks and setting his ears on fire. “You looked cold,” he said. 

Thorin looked at the blanket and then back at Bilbo. His hand slowly released Bilbo’s wrist, which seemed to burn in the absence of his grasp. 

Bilbo felt the heat in his face intensify and settled with placing the blanket on Thorin’s lap and patting it. Which seemed to only make things much more awkward as he found himself taking the seat next to Thorin’s chair. They sat in silence for a moment.

“He’s looking much better.” Bilbo looked at Kili. 

Thorin grunted. 

“I told you Estien was a good healer,” he added.

“I doubt you’ve seen many healers in your lifetime,” Thorin grumbled. “As you seem to be far more comfortable at home.”

“Who could say that home is not the most comforting place to be?” Bilbo said, with a tad of wistfulness. “But,  it might surprise you to know that as a hobbit I have traveled much.”

Thorin glanced at him.

“I have traveled nearly everywhere I am able, and I have seen many distant lands and many different people. I promise you, Estian is the most skilled and capable healer I have met. Kili will survive, not without a scar, but it will be one he will be able to boast, not one that will be a reminder of what sent him to Aule’s halls.”

Bilbo could see the tension release in Thorin’s body as he sat back, gaze lingering on his nephew.

“How did you meet?” Thorin’s voice was soft. “You and that treesha-'' he faltered. “And Estien?”

“I’ve known Estien since birth.” Estien’s birth, that is. Saying that, however, would incur far more questions than Bilbo was willing to answer. “In fact, I’ve known him so long that I believed that he had perished before today.”

Thorin tilted his head in curiosity, prodding Bilbo to continue.

“Estien . . . travels often. He had parted from me once, many years ago and I had not heard from him since. It’s frequent enough to be assaulted on a path not traveled before, especially when you’re alone. I’m sure you know that well.”

“I am quite familiar with such experiences. But from what I saw, your friend appears to be quite adept at fighting.”

“He is, but one’s strength and skill can be rendered useless in front of a more powerful foe or sheer numbers. One being would have difficulty taking on swarms or legions of orcs or goblins.”

If Bilbo was in his natural form, such things would be simple to take care of, but in the forms he, Estien, and many of the others had taken, they were vulnerable to large scale groups. 

Thorin hummed. “Dwarrow are capable of taking on many - were built strong like stone.”

He laughed. “Indeed. If one thing is for certain, it’s you dwarrow’s ability to emulate stone.” In more ways than one , he wanted to add but refrained. He was sure that comment would not be welcome. “In contrast, as a hobbit, I am unable to take on many, soft as I am.” 

There was a moment of silence. “You said your kind did not travel much?”

“Hobbits are creatures prone to the comforts and peace provided by the Shire. Anywhere else would be too harsh, I fear.” 

“I owe a debt to one of your kind,” Thorin said. “Though I did not know it was a hobbit I owed until I entered the Shire. You have the same kind of feet he had. Though I suppose he would no longer be around anymore, given your lifespan. I can only hope to repay his kin in some way. I wouldn’t describe the one I saw as ‘soft’ or ‘prone to comforts’.” 

Bilbo was silent for a moment. He wasn’t sure how he could tell Thorin that there was no need to repay him, what he had done didn’t necessarily come from the goodness of his heart. He sighed. “Master Oakenshield, while your desire to return a favor is admirable, it is not necessary.”

Thorin’s face darkened. “Do not tell me what is and isn’t necessary, hobbit. It is shameful for a dwarf to not repay his debt. Especially to someone who has saved their life.”

“I do not mean to belittle your quest to repay, but, if you know for certain that the one who saved you was a hobbit, just know that hobbits do not take well to favors repaid in gold, jewels, or status.”

Thorin’s face lightened incrementally, and Bilbo continued. “Hobbits are creatures of the earth and soil. They delight in good food, a warm home, peace, and quiet. Any gift you seek to bestow will likely disrupt one of those things, and would likely cause them grief in the long run. If you still wish to bestow a gift to a hobbit, give one that will help to enhance one of the things they already love.”

Thorin was quiet for a moment. “I apologize, Master Baggins. It appears I was too hasty in my accusations. I ask that you forgive me.”

Bilbo smiled. “Just lend a longer listening ear next time, and all is forgiven,” he said. “Now, I fear I have stayed up too late. I must turn in, and I will see you in the morning, Master Oakenshield.”

He rose from his seat, feeling Thorin’s eyes on him until he shut the door behind him.

[leafsprings]

Maintenance Tips for Leaf Springs: Ensuring Longevity and Performance

Leaf springs play a crucial role in the suspension system of various vehicles, providing stability and support. Regular maintenance is essential to keep them in optimal condition, ensuring a smooth and safe ride. In this comprehensive guide, we'll delve into effective maintenance tips for leaf springs, covering key aspects such as inspection, lubrication, common issues, and practical solutions.

Inspection and Lubrication

1. Regular Visual Inspection

Start with a visual examination of the leaf springs for signs of wear, cracks, or deformation.

Check for proper alignment and ensure that the leaves are evenly spaced.

2. Spring Hanger and Shackle Inspection

Examine the spring hangers and shackles for any signs of damage or corrosion.

Tighten loose bolts and replace any worn-out components promptly.

3. Bushings and Bolts

Inspect the condition of the bushings and bolts connecting the leaf springs to the vehicle chassis.

Lubricate these components regularly to prevent friction and reduce wear.

4. Alignment Check

Ensure that the leaf springs are properly aligned to maintain the vehicle's balance.

Misalignment can lead to uneven tire wear and compromise handling.

5. Lubrication Tips

Use a high-quality, lithium-based grease for lubricating the leaf springs.

Apply grease to the ends of the leaves, focusing on pivot points and bushings.

Lubricate at regular intervals, especially after off-road use or exposure to harsh conditions.

Common Issues and Practical Solutions

1. Corrosion Prevention

Combat rust and corrosion by applying a rust inhibitor or anti-corrosion spray.

Keep the leaf springs clean and free from debris to prevent accelerated corrosion.

2. Leaf Fractures and Cracks

Inspect for any fractures or cracks in the leaves, as these can compromise the spring's strength.

Replace damaged leaves promptly to prevent further deterioration.

3. Squeaking Sounds

Address squeaking noises by applying a silicone-based lubricant on the leaf surfaces.

Check for worn-out bushings or shackles, as they may contribute to the noise.

4. Spring Sagging

If your vehicle experiences sagging, consider adding a leaf or replacing worn-out leaves.

Consult the manufacturer's guidelines to ensure proper load capacity.

5. Uneven Wear Patterns

Address uneven wear on the leaf springs by identifying and rectifying the root cause.

Regularly rotate and balance your tires to ensure even distribution of weight.

By implementing these maintenance tips, you can significantly extend the lifespan of your leaf springs and enhance the overall performance of your vehicle. Regular inspections, proper lubrication, and timely resolution of common issues are key to ensuring a safe and comfortable driving experience. Invest time in the care of your leaf springs, and you'll reap the benefits of improved longevity and reliability on the road .

[nutekmechanical]

5 Signs Your Trailer Suspension Needs Repair

The unsung hero of your caravan is its suspension system. It guarantees a smooth journey, cushions jolts, and keeps your belongings safe. But over time, it may deteriorate just like any other component of your caravan. Ignoring these indicators may result in costly repairs or even potential safety risks. What better way to determine when to have a closer check on your caravan suspension? 

These five indicators are crucial to determine when to hire trailer repairs in Kemps Creek:

Uneven Tyre Wear: Examine your tyres closely. Do they have cupping (scalloped wear), or are they wearing unevenly, with severe tread wear on one side? This may point to a suspension issue, such as a misaligned axle or worn-out shock absorbers. Uneven wear shortens tyre life, and handling may be impacted.

Bouncing Beauty: Does your caravan bounce too much, giving you the impression that you're even on a rough dirt road instead of smooth pavement? Shocks, broken shackles, or worn-out leaf springs can all contribute to this bouncing. Bouncing too much might harm your cargo and make towing dangerous and uncomfortable.

The Leaning Tower of Trailers: Imagine your caravan parked on level ground. Does one side seem to be sagging? This may indicate that the suspension parts on that side are worn out or that a leaf spring is damaged. Leaning trailers can cause further issues by placing excessive strain on the axles and frame.

Trailer Tango: When you're towing, does your trailer seem to have an independent mind of its own? Tyres that are not properly inflated or worn-out suspension components might lead to excessive swaying or fishtailing. Towing can become hazardous and challenging when swaying, particularly when turning or in windy circumstances.

The Symphony of Suspension Trouble: There shouldn't be a chorus of creaks, squeaks and moans when it comes to your caravan. Strange noises, such as grinding or clunking, originating from the suspension area may be an indication of worn-out shock absorbers, loose parts, or other issues. These noises are your trailer's way of alerting you to a problem, so pay attention to them.

If you observe any of these symptoms, it's time to have a skilled professional inspect your Trailer Suspension in Kemps Creek. In the long term, early diagnosis and repair can save costs and ensure your safety while driving.

[beethecat22]

"The Woman"

I stand, frozen in place, contemplating the all-encompassing darkness that surrounds me, threatening to swallow me whole, shuffling and swaying eerily along to the almost inaudible, somber tune of some unknown, decrepit music. It has been this way — an endless dance of mourning for those long gone — for, it seems, all of time. Or, perhaps, for no time at all.

I stare, into the endless sea of the void before me, its chaotic and unpredictable waters crashing over me with such inescapable force that I am sure to inevitably drown within its hungry, unquenchable grasp; to sink so deep into nothingness — so thick and untouchable — that I may never reach the surface again. And yet, some part of me waits, perhaps in vain, for something I have never before experienced, never before seen, and I know undeniably that I can not leave my post without that release.

Abruptly, just within my sight a harsh light — one that flickers faintly, sputtering softly as if rattling its last aching breath — breaks through the darkness’ melancholy stagger. In the midst of the shadows, instantaneously, is perched a bleak wall, with its stained-white, crumpling wallpaper. And, directly in the middle of the wall, appearing slowly and delicately, like a leaf falls morosely from its tree — forever disconnected from its source of life — I see — her.

Her, with her shadowed blonde locks, freely wandering through the air, like the strands themselves were but roots of a dying tree, forever searching in vain for some source of hidden water. Her hair was not the light, happy, bubbly blonde which reminds one of a child’s joyful laugh on Christmas day, nor the bright yellows of dandelions just sprung up, so carefully and peacefully nested in the vibrant sea of green — peeking shyly through the grass — reflected in the first dew drops of Spring. No; what floundered forth was a deep, hollow blonde, bleached by time and grief, bleak and empty of the life it may have once had — merely a one-way mirror of what is and what will never come to be.

She dons no clothes other than the strands of hair that now loosely encase her. Her face is carved in shades of sorrow, of remorse, of mourning and grief. But not anger. No; there is no anger hidden in those dark, grey eyes; eyes vast with emptiness, now and forever cold. Her features, a pale, transparent steel of a beauty who left this world in tragedy long ago, deteriorating away for all of time until she eventually, inevitably — like all that ever was or all that will be — crumbles into dust.

I see her, translucent and hollow; a mirage of something not quite real, not quite alive in this world of never-ceasing torment and emptiness. The darkness feeds off me and I off it — an endless corridor of twists and turns -both of us fighting for control over the other. I can feel the grief in her eyes; eyes of one who is lost in this empty crevice of a world, forever searching for one single moment, an instance, a glimpse — if only for the briefest of moments — of what it truly means to feel peace. If only I could fully break the rusted shackles of the never-ending cycle I feel myself crumbling away in — just sand under the sea’s desperate, famished waves.

I fall to my knees before her in a kind of desperate prayer, staring into the vacant craters of her eyes. I search, perhaps in vain, for some kind of all-knowing answer, one that will rescue me from my measureless sentence in this prison of darkness, this cage that shuns any warm light.

“Oh pale angel of the cruel darkness,” I cry out, a mixture of fear and longing, my voice but a whisper, barely breaking the thick darkness’ aggrieved melody. “Free me; free me, please, from the infinite torment of the harsh sea of darkness; the one that bounds me so, confining me within its chasm of solitude and desolation. I am tired — so tired — and I wish to rest. I wish to be free; to feel the sun’s joyful light sink into my skin, warming the cold shivering of my soul. To fly freely — like the birds do- and forever reign in my kingdom of the vast of the sky, teeming with life, clouds filled with jubilation and laughter.

She says nothing, presenting me with a hollow, empty stare. Then, slowly, the roots of hair come towards me, suddenly filled with vigor and aching hunger. She yearns for me; to inhale the very last of my desperate breaths, until I am nothing — returned, inevitably, to the dust I once was long ago.

[matrenshaw]

What I Learned About Shackles for Car

It's time to talk shackles and their importance for vehicle. Shackles are crucial components of the suspension system, connecting leaf springs to the frame. They provide flexibility and allow for smooth movement, ensuring a comfortable ride. Shackles also play a vital role in maintaining proper suspension geometry and handling. So, next time hit the road, give a nod to those trusty shackles that keep vehicle riding smoothly. Enjoy the journey, folks!

[sujanindustries]

Sujan Industries stands as the foremost manufacturer in India, specializing in premium leaf spring hangers. Elevate your automotive experience with our top-quality leaf spring shackles, meticulously crafted for diverse vehicles. Count on Sujan Industries for durable, reliable components that enhance your vehicle's performance and longevity. Explore our extensive range to find the perfect leaf spring shackle for your specific automotive needs. Trust in our commitment to excellence and precision engineering for a superior driving experience.

[4wdsuspensionaustralia]

Various Types of Suspension Lift Kits

A suspension lift can be recognized by its size and the reason for its utilization. There are likewise two methods for introducing a suspension lift unit to your vehicle.

Concerning sizes, as with nearly everything in this world, there are three assortments of suspension lift size: little, medium and enormous. Little suspension lift units as a rule includes 1.5 inches or less. It will concede a few leeway and space for vehicles with fairly bigger tires.

Usually, the legitimate way in acquiring a little suspension lift should be possible through curl spacers in front and long shackles on the back. They are generally reasonable as well as exceptionally simple to introduce in light of the fact that less complexities is include in connecting them to the vehicle.

Suspension Lift Kits are perfect for the people who need to watch their financial plan and it is likewise the least demanding to introduce. Clients of this size additionally have close to nothing to whine with respect to intricacies.

With respect to the medium suspension lifts, it is able to do very nearly 2 creeps of lift. This size is the most ideal decision for vehicle proprietors who are hoping to acquire tire freedom yet are not precisely wanting to do any go mud romping riding. Spacer and add-a-leaf lifts is generally utilized for this size. Some of the time, their bundle may likewise accompany the most recent shocks.

Most clients of medium suspension lifts might see a few changes in the exhibition and treatment of their vehicles upon its establishment. A few changes would be great and some could be terrible. Clients should areas of strength for have, new and extreme back springs. For those arranging later changes on their vehicle, more lift could become hard to accomplish particularly in the event that an add-a-leaf pack is liked since this sort is intended for lifting stock springs.

Presently, for huge estimated suspension lifts, which comprises of around 3 - 4 crawls of ground leeway, for a considerably more forceful vehicle and confirmation of incredible rough terrain undertakings? Generally, enormous suspension lift arrangement contains new add-a-leafs, set in the back, front loops and, surprisingly, extra new back springs and front curls. A bunch of shocks to match are likewise remembered for this huge unit bundle.

Clearly, this arrangement is very expensive and clients need to anticipate a greater number of confusions with their vehicles than those with the more modest sizes of lifts. There may likewise be an emotional impact on the presentation of the vehicle on-street rides. For rough terrain riding aficionados, this size is awesome as it changes their apparatuses into threatening machines to take to the wilds nevertheless stick out.

In the event that you are investigating the various sorts of suspension lift packs, we can provide you with a presentation of them additionally in this article. You ought to know about these different sorts.

They are the accompanying:

- Spring Over Hub (SPOA) - extremely well known among rock crawlers searching for the best enunciation, the term for all over wheel travel

- Shackle Invert (S/R) - truck lift packs which principal motivation behind use is to give smooth rides on gentle landscapes like deserts, backwoods, and grand paths.

- Curl Suspension - the best counterpart for the world's best4 wheel drive or all wheel drive vehicles

- Lifted Spring - the most well-known sort of truck lift pack and is utilized all around the world since the suspension arrangement of the Lifted Spring is not difficult to introduce. It is the most ideal decision to involve by beginner lifters in the rough terrain world.

- Shackle - considered the most reasonable among the wide range of various kinds. This type essentially serves for truck lovers who are keen on supplanting their apparatus with greater tires however have zero desire to do bad-to-the-bone rough terrain driving. This type affects the vehicle's influence control and guiding framework.

For more details, visit us :

Jeep Suspension Australia

Toyota Hilux 3 Inch Lift Kit

Ford Ranger 3 Inch Lift Kit

Isuzu Mux Lift Kit

[gremlin-project-x]

Here, I completed the same bushing replacement process on the other leaf spring.

I also started contemplating my frame shackle mounts. They were quite rusty and needed some help. I figured I would use a rust preventitive.

With the rear axle out, I wanted to make sure that it would work nicely, but I didn't have time for a full inspection. The wheels turned without making ungodly noises, so I just drained and refilled the pumpkin with 85W-90 gear oil.

June 20 2022

[starkeristheendgame]

Hunter!Tony x Demon!Peter AU

Hunter!Tony binds Demon!Peter to himself in order to find the monster that murdered his late fiancée. Lead down roads he’d never imagined himself taking, Tony discovers that maybe revenge isn’t the only thing he’s hungry for.

TW/Tags: Supernatural AU | Enemies to something | Hurt/Comfort | Angst | Injury | Blood | Near-death experience | First kiss

“Is being a pervert part of the hiring process or are you just getting your money’s worth?”

Tony couldn’t see it, but he knew regardless that those plush lips would be pushed into a pout and those arched brows would be furrowed into a petulant scowl.

“If you’ve got me running around like your little errand boy, the least you could do is be nice to me,” a high, sweet voice simpered back. The face that belonged to it was just as youthful when it appeared in the mirror over his shoulder, watching him button his shirt with vested interest.

Tony didn’t deign to dignify it with a reply, staring down the pretty little monster until it let out a sigh.

“Fine. I have your lead. Arkansas, a seedy little dive known as the Dog Den.”

Something hot and rabid twisted in his gut and he had to pause his motions, hands trembling almost imperceptibly. It felt a lot like rage and a little bit like hope.

“Are you sure?”

Eyes the colour of fresh honey rolled so hard he could almost hear the muscles stretching. “No. I asked a magic eight-ball.”

He twisted with a snarl, reaching out. The ring on his finger pulsed with a molten orange glow and between slender wrists a chain that shimmered transparently flared to life, forming a delicate set of shackles no wider than if he’d wound a necklace there.

He curled a finger in the glowing links, dragging the Demon close enough that he could see the flecks of gold in those dark eyes. 

“I’m sure,” it repeated, softer, quieter, holding his gaze with wariness, but not fear.

He let the chain drop after a moment, grunting as he turned around and finished buttoning up his shirt. When he twisted to reach for the jacket the lithe figure was sprawled out on his bed, artfully arranged as the Demon flipped through a magazine Tony knew hadn’t been in his own bags.

“You know,” the Demon piped up again as he tucked in his shirt, “maybe if you smiled a little more, the ugly things in the dark wouldn’t try to kill you as much.”

“Shut up.”

“Not possible.”

“I’ll make it possible.”

“Oh, you always promise me a good time and never deliver.”

Despite himself, Tony found he had to wrestle fiercely with a smile. “Peter.”

That heady, dangerous gaze pinned itself to him again. He met it evenly, ignoring the thrum of his pulse. The Demon really couldn’t have picked a prettier vessel to take over, a smudge of parasitic darkness inside the prettiest packaging.

That pink little mouth opened like it was considering another witty retort, then closed. Instead the Demon - Peter, merely hummed and went back to flicking through his magazine, disinterestedly glossing over half-naked women and gossip scandals.

It was almost disconcerting. To look at the pretty little slip of a thing sprawled out on his bed like some rented whore and to know that behind that pretty face was a being of Hell’s creation. Something twisted and dark, a corrupted soul festering behind a distracting smokescreen.

Peter Parker was the sort of face Tony would’ve fallen for like a rock, if he hadn’t been the one to summon the Demon to the surface.

Perhaps that’s why the Demon had chosen such a nice outfit. A desperate bid not to get ganked the moment he crawled out of Hell.

“You’re thinking too loudly,” Peter sighed, turning a page idly. He’d rolled over onto his stomach now, jaw propped in his palm. 

“You can’t read minds. Don’t get comfortable, we’re leaving soon,” he grunted in reply, shrugging on a jacket.

“Can’t I just meet you there?” the Demon whined, looking up with (literally) sinful puppy eyes.

“No.”

He left it at that, flat and unforgiving, as he had to be. In another life he’d have fallen for that soft whine and that pleading look. Might’ve taken his shirt right off and crawled onto the bed, put that open mouth to good use.

But this was not that life, and that pretty face was stolen.

He checked all his things then reached out, plucking the gossip rag from Peter’s hands and throwing it in the trash. “Meet me at the car.”

“I was reading that,” Peter huffed indignantly, glowering up at him before he disappeared, leaving behind nothing but a dip in the bedspread and the scent of copper.

He was sprawled in the backseat when Tony made his out to the 1970 Challenger he called his own, a set of stylish shades covering his eyes, fluffy hair unkempt and arms folded behind his head.

“Feet off the upholstery,” he huffed as he turned the key, swinging the car out of the parking lot and onto the road with a loud rumble of the engine.

“I know for a fact you sleep in this car and my shoes are clean,” Peter answered primly, angling his head towards the open window and the warmth of the morning sun.

Arkansas was a three day drive. They spent the first in almost complete silence, although the Demon did sulk when they stopped for gas and Tony declined to buy him anything. Rather than waste money on another motel he pulled onto a quiet patch of land behind a thicket of trees, settling across the bench seat with a sigh.

“Fuck off and come back in the morning.”

“Eloquent as ever,” Peter griped, leaning over the seat, arms folded and chin atop them. He looked laughably angelic in the darkness, all soft edges, voice quiet enough that a mouse wouldn’t flee it.

“Sweet dreams,” he whispered, and when Tony cracked open an eye to repeat his command, he was gone.

Gone, until he thumped his fist on the window at the ass-crack of dawn, looking chipper and cheerful, Starbucks cup in hand. “Up and at ‘em, sunshine! The monsters aren’t gonna hunt themselves!”

Tony considered stabbing him there and then, but Peter was unfortunately an asset he couldn’t afford to lose. Invaluable, as much as it stroked the Demon’s ego. He settled for glaring, baring past the Demon as he stomped off to relieve himself. 

The next two nights went much the same, although Peter got chattier the more bored he became. Fiddled with the radio, disappeared for moments only to return holding an ‘interesting’ leaf or rock, scooped up from the side of the road Tony had just driven past.

Arkansas was crisp and bright and dewy in the mid-weeks of spring. It was so different from the New York of his youth, with it’s towering glass jungle and concrete pillars. It was a visceral reaction to think of the scent of flowers and clean air in Sicily, of pink lipstick smudged on his jaw, a laugh fading slowly, overtaken by the rumble of the engine.

Countryside became a smattering of industrialisation, bars and houses, garages and stores. He wanted to keep on going, chase that tail until he caught it and tore it off, but he knew better than to rush in half-blind.

He had to eat something proper. Had to rest. Had to learn everything he could from the paltry little stack of papers that Peter had given him, printed out at a library miles and miles back in the time it had taken Tony to piss and buy a bottle of water at a gas station.

Food, first. 

The diner was like every other. Gaudy and cheap with food that was more grease than nutrition. Peter’s nose scrunched the moment they entered and he looked nonplussed when they were guided to a booth.

The Demon made a big show of pulling out a pack of wipes from the pocket of his fitted jacket, scrubbing the table as the waitress listed off the day’s specials. Tony rolled his eyes before ordering coffee and a slap-up breakfast, about to dismiss the waitress when Peter cut in with a saccharine smile. 

“Bacon too, please. Crispy. And a milkshake. Thanks a bunch, darling.”

She arched her brows but made no comment, glancing at Tony before leaving. Then it was Tony’s turn to stare and quirk his brow, watching the Demon shrug lightly. 

“What? I get cravings.”

Peter fiddled with a napkin as they waited, as Tony read through the sheets of paper. Folding it over and over into a little crane that he perched atop the salt shaker. 

“Where did you even learn origami?” Tony grunted, watching it sway before it stabilised. Peter’s gaze flicked up to him and there was something unexpected there. A hollowness, heavily guarded but flickering in the gold of his irises even so. 

“Even the worst of the worst need hobbies, hunter,” he uttered softly, and then their food arrived and they were lost to the silence that overcame those sating their hunger. Peter ate with an almost childlike manner, easily distracted, toying with his straw before each sip. He even swung his legs a little and drummed his fingertips on the table top.

The perfect performance.

He looked away.

Peter was unusually quiet after that, subdued as they made their way to a motel relatively close to the Dog Den. He didn’t even pester the receptionist or try to embarrass Tony by pretending to be some sort of rent boy as he purchased a key, eyeing the Demon consideringly.

When Tony slipped beneath the sheets Peter disappeared without argument, offering only a mock salute before he flickered and was gone, leaving nothing but a wisp of dark smoke.

He wondered where the Demon went. Back to Hell? Some run-down library to read through the night? An empty motel room to pilfer their cable connection?

The disconcertion over Peter’s silence left him the next day, when he commanded Peter to steer clear as he got dressed to hit their lead.

“You can’t go alone,” Peter announced, frowning.

“I can and I am. You’ll just attract attention,” Tony pointed out, shrugging on another flannel and tucking the flask of holy water against his belt.

“And if you die?” Peter shot back. It surprised his brows into lifting as he met the Demon’s gaze, tipping his head.

“Then you’ll be free of your bindings and there’ll be one less hunter ganking your friends. What’s the problem?”

Peter’s mouth opened, then closed, as if he was only suddenly remembering that he wasn’t in this little dynamic duo willingly.

“I get the Challenger if you die,” the Demon said instead, turning away from.

And maybe Tony should’ve thought more about that demand, because the only thing he could think of as he lay bleeding in the middle of the woods several long hours later was that Peter would most definitely get the car all scratched up and dirty.

Demons had no respect for vehicle maintenance. 

He coughed wetly and grunted, pressing a hand to his bleeding chest. They wouldn’t, he supposed. Demons could just fly everywhere.

Peter had adamantly argued it was not teleportation.

He breathed out a sigh and shifted fumbling for his wallet. His fingers smeared blood against the white edges of the crumpled photograph in there and he stared at his wife’s smile, frozen in time and taken just days before a Demon on a murder kick had burnt her soul up from within her, along with their unborn daughter.

“I’d say see you soon, but. W’both know m’goin’ to Hell, not where you are,” he told her image softly, giving it a weary, slow smile.

“Hell would ask for a refund,” came a familiar voice, and moments later there were warm hands on his jaw, tilting his head up. “You stupid bastard. I told you not to go alone. I could feel there was someone stronger in this town!”

Peter’s eyes were wide and round, plump lower lip between his teeth as he dropped his gaze, eyeing where Tony was slowly leaking his insides all over his outsides. “Shit,” the Demon breathed softly.

Tony made an agreeable sound. Shit was about right. He’d run head first into the messy, gruesome end that almost every hunter found themselves at. The end of the road; the final curtain; bleeding out somewhere at the hands of something twisted and ugly and evil.

“Guess you get th’car,” he rasped, aiming for humorous. It fell short when he blanched and more hot fluid slid down his throat and his chest, pooling at his navel. 

“Shut up,” Peter growled at him, letting go of his head to pull up his shirt. His fingertips were light, but it still felt like fire. Hot and licking over everything he touched. “God, you’re so fucking stupid. I told you to take me. I told you I should go.”

“C’n you save th’gloatin’ ‘till I’m dead?” he asked, frowning. Most hunters probably didn’t get this much conversation on their deathbeds.

Peter shot him a positively scathing look, pressing down hard on the wound. It made agony flare up his torso, smothering his pathetic yell of pain into a weak, thready rasp.

“This is gonna hurt us both,” the Demon muttered, looking inexplicably angry as he settled his palms flat atop the worst of the wound. A muted sound was all Tony could manage, watching the Demon with hazy confusion.

For a moment, nothing happened. 

Or at least, Tony didn’t notice it happening. 

But then a strange, new type of pain began to lance through him, battling against the numbing burn of his torn organs. It crept through his veins and branched out, a tingling, almost electric sensation that had him tensing as best as his broken body would let him.

He opened his mouth and if he’d had the energy left for it he’d have reeled in surprise when Peter leaned forwards, slotting their mouths together firmly.

The Demon’s lips were soft and plush, with the faintest trace of soda. His lips were warm, too, just a breath above what would be normal for a person. 

Tony almost didn’t know what he should be recoiling at the most; kissing a Demon, or kissing what was for all intents and purposes a sixteen year old.

Peter didn’t try to do anything else and Tony realised in the timeframe that he’d been internally broiling over the situation, breathing had become easier.

The fire was dulling to a simmer; a slow ember that still ached but no longer made him feel like he had one foot in the gates of Hell. His breath hitched and Peter pulled back slowly, keeling to one side slightly and almost falling over as he drew away.

His eyes were pools of inkblack, shiny and void as the Demon sucked in his own rattled breath, pulling shaking hands away from Tony’s torso.

He let his gaze fall slowly to his chest. He was still covered in blood, but the flesh there looked smooth and unmarred. Where he was once carved open like a pot hole there was once again closed off muscle and flesh.

He looked up in surprise. Peter was on his knees, hands braced on his thighs as he rode out the strain of wrangling his leashed powers. His eyes were slowly returning to the human hue, red-rimmed as if he’d been crying, plump lips downturned.

Tony licked his own, jerked straight back into the sensation of Peter’s mouth on his.

“Why?” he demanded roughly, bringing a hand to subconsciously touch his chest.

Peter shot him a sidelong look, the effect slightly dampened by the way he looked vaguely sick.

“A thank you might be nice,” the Demon sneered at him, huffing a twisted curl from his eyes as Tony pushed himself to his feet, ungainly and uncoordinated. Bracing himself on a tree, Tony stared down at the Demon.

At Peter, who’d saved his life. Against all he stood to benefit from Tony’s death, against all that he’d done his best to kill him when he first discovered he’d been shackled to Tony. 

Coughing, Tony did his best to pull his shredded shirt closed before he made a rough gesture. “Get up. You’ll have to take us back to the motel. My car’s still at the bar.” Smashed up or stolen, he realised with a pang of sadness and anger.

“Oh no, lover-boy. You’ve been keeping me at half-mast all year. One night of fun has done me in for the night. I’m limp - get your own ride into town.”

Tony glowered, but all his frowning and snapping proved fruitless. Peter’s powers had been bound tight for almost a year and he really was burnt out, looking every inch as young as his vessel as he wobbled to his feet. The most he managed them was a few meters down the road when he tried.

It took them until sunrise to come close enough to the town that Tony could hotwire a car from the side of the road, ditching it a reasonable way from the motel and wiping it down with a clean patch of his shirt to get rid of his fingerprints.

He wasn’t bothered about Peter’s. Peter had mentioned having this particular vessel for over fifty years - his prints would be written off as a glitch on the system.

He went straight for the shower, scrubbing his skin pink as he tried to sleuth off the memory of being cut open, of dying alone in the dark and the cold, certain that this was his one-way ticket downstairs.

Brushed his teeth; trying to rid himself of the guilt that came with realising that the kiss had been pleasant, to a degree. Soft, pink skin, the sweetness of a soda consumed while Tony had been-

He shut off the water.

When he stepped out, Peter was actually curled up in the bed, looking almost infantile with the covers pulled up to his jaw. He seemed only half-awake, barely stirring when Tony entered the room. He was pulling on a new shirt when Peter spoke, voice sleepy and quiet.

“My Uncle taught me.”

Tony paused, glancing over his shoulder.

“Origami,” Peter clarified softly. “You asked me. At the diner. Where I’d learned origami. My Uncle taught me when I was thirteen.”

Pulling on a pair of sweatpants, Tony took a light seat on the edge of the bed, each of them facing a separate wall. He was quiet for a little while, digesting the information.

“Thank you for saving me,” he grunted after a moment, uncomfortable with the intimacy of the words. It wasn’t anything he’d ever thought he’d say to a Demon. Peter had gotten him out of scrapes and healed up wounds before, but always under command and never anything so serious.

Desperate to rein back some control, he slid under the sheets and stared up at the ceiling. “If you ever kiss me again, I’ll use thread soaked in holy water and sew your mouth shut.”

Irritatingly, Peter snorted. “That was hardly a kiss.”

“You’re in a snot-nosed brat’s body, what would you know about kissing?” Tony shot back, brows pinching into a frown.

“This,” Peter huffed at him, rolling over and on top of him.

Tony blamed the fact that he didn’t pull away on simply being too tired to.

[platypusisnotonfire]

If this isn’t my biography I don’t know what is.

[yunaffie]

No Matter What [Lynne & Sissel]

Happy Ghost Swap to @redwoodrroad, here is your exchange gift!

Written for @fyeahghosttrick's Ghost Swap exchange.

Crossposted to AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32039206

Spring

The pursuit of a fleeing suspect had sent Lynne right into the path of a speeding truck. A swift call brought Sissel to the scene of the accident. Finding the unfortunate detective still unconscious, he wasted no time in reversing her demise. At the very last second, Sissel thought he could hear her voice.

Returning to the present, Sissel saw it - a core of the dead. Rather than engage with her right away, he chose to observe. The little moments of confusion, of spacing out, of looking for something or something that wasn't there didn't fail to escape his attention.

One evening, after finishing work for the day, Lynne left the police station while Sissel trailed along a short distance behind her. Every so often, she would make little glances back over her shoulder though she didn't seem to spot him. Unexpectedly, she made a turn off her usual route and travelled along a path that took her to a quiet little spot by the river. Sissel remained out of sight, continuing to watch her.

"It's getting nice and warm now, isn't it?" Lynne leaned back, focusing her eyes on the horizon. The setting sun cast a warm glow over her and her surroundings. "Suppose the breeze's still a little chilly, but it's nice to just sit out here and enjoy nature once in a while."

(... Huh? Is she talking to herself?)

"You must like it too, being a cat and all."

"...!"

"How long are you going to hide like that?" Lynne patted the empty spot on the bench. "Come here."

(Huh. I guess she knew I was there all along.)

"Of course I did."

"You heard my voice just now?" Sissel walked over and hopped up next to her.

"I've overheard you plenty of times. Even heard you talking to Detective Jowd. I thought I was going crazy at first." Lynne reached out and rubbed Sissel's head. "You could have just said something, you know."

"I suppose I was waiting."

"Waiting, huh?" Lynne's gaze shifted to the rippling surface of the river. "For me to remember?"

"You do, don't you?"

"I remember a lot of things. Living with Kamila, trying to save Detective Jowd, dying so many times on that night... and finally being trapped on that submarine, waiting for a miracle to happen. And of course, you." Looking back at Sissel, Lynne's face lit up in a bright smile.

"Lynne..."

"I believed in you. I was so sure you and Missile would find a way somehow, and you did." Lynne picked Sissel up, pulling him into a tight hug. "Well done, Sissel."

"I wasn't sure if you'd remember. Though I had a feeling when you found my name familiar."

"I told you, didn't I?" Lynne held Sissel up to her face. "That I would never forget you, no matter what happened." Her brow furrowed. "I'm a bit confused about that part. So, you saved that man, right?"

"Right."

"I see." Lynne's face softened. "That's wonderful. And because of that, a whole new ten years were born. Boy, we have got so much to talk about, haven't we? Say, would anyone miss you if you were to come over to mine for a little bit?"

"Not at all. I can always come over the phone line too."

"Wait." Lynne blinked. "You've been coming to my apartment through my phone?"

"Uh... maybe?"

"Oh gods. Please don't tell me you saw me get drunk that one time and sing to Missile with my hairbrush!"

"What?"

Lynne clamped her lips shut, averting her gaze. "Nothing. But let's set a rule, okay?" Poking Sissel's head, she regarded him with a stern expression. "You tell me when you're visiting, alright?"

"Alright, alright."

"Great. So glad we got that sorted. Now then, off we go." Lynne got to her feet, hugging Sissel to her chest. "And on the way, I'm getting Missile a special doggy treat. I would say he's earned it, wouldn't you?"

"Definitely."

Summer

"How do I look?" The patterned blue fabric rippled around Lynne's slender form as she gave a twirl.

"Well, you look different. Not in a bad way. I mean, I've never seen you wear something like that before."

Lynne released her breath in a loud puff. "Yeah. I should know better than to ask a cat for his opinion. But it's a nice dress, right? Perfect for a summer festival."

"It's certainly shiny, alright. Very attention grabbing."

"Well, don't you start playing with it now or anything." Lynne picked Sissel up.

"I have no idea what you mean. I grew out of the playful whims of a kitten a long time ago."

"Like heck you did. You turned my new blender on last week!"

"That wasn't playing, I just wanted to see what the buttons did."

"If there had been something in the blender, you would have ended up decorating my entire kitchen!" Lynne exclaimed. "Anyway, this is your first festival, right?"

Sissel took a moment to look over the crowds of people milling through the rows of stalls illuminated by hanging lanterns. "Yes. I do believe it is."

"I haven't been to a festival in forever." Lynne let out a little sigh. The wistful expression that appeared on her face was quickly replaced with an enthusiastic grin as she pumped her fist. "Alright! It's time to eat lots of festival food and play games! We're going to have so much fun, Sissel!" She hurried into the crowd, joining Kamila who was occupied with holding back an excited little Pomeranian.

The rest of the evening passed by, filled with fun and excitement. Lynne didn't fail to impress with how much of the stall food she was able to put away. A brief debate took place on whether it was fair for Sissel to use his ghost tricks to help on the shooting range game. In the end, he relented. Lynne's puppy dog eyes and Missile's pleas to do it for Lynne and Kamila were just too much to bear.

At the end, the festival goers formed a crowd, ready to watch the fireworks. Lynne, Kamila, Sissel and Missile gathered together, along with the goldfish the ladies had managed to win, an event that had Sissel wondering if there might be deaths to avert in the future.

"Ahh." Lynne let out a soft sound as the first firework burst into the sky. Sissel briefly looked at her face, seeing the way her face lit up in wonderment, before turning his attention to the display. "You've seen fireworks before, haven't you, Sissel?"

"Yeah. It's certainly a beautiful sight."

"It is, isn't it?" Lynne hugged Sissel to her chest just a little tighter, watching the fireworks go up, one after another. "We've had such a wonderful night tonight."

"Indeed. I'm glad I was able to experience this with you. Festivals really do look like a lot of fun."

"They really are." Lynne's expression softened. "We'll keep finding lots of fun things to do together, Sissel."

"Yeah. I'm looking forward to it."

Fall

"Right, that looks good." Lynne gave a satisfied nod as she eyed her handiwork. Leaves in hues of red, brown and yellow had been gathered together in a neat little pile. "Now, I just got to start the fire," she added, rubbing her hands together. "Mmm. It's been a long time since I last enjoyed a roasted sweet potato."

Sissel sat on the edge of the fountain, pawing at the basket, taking care not to dislodge any of the sweet potatoes as it rocked back and forth. "This seems like an awful lot of potatoes. I know the little lady is here, but still."

"It's fine, it's fine." Lynne chucked. "Hey, be careful with that basket. Why don't you go run around with Missile and Kamila or something?"

"As fun as it might be to run laps around that little doggie until he passes out from exhaustion, I think I'll pass. The little lady's doing a good enough job at keeping him occupied." Sissel jumped down and went to sit by the leaf pile. Lynne sat as well and got to work on the fire. "It doesn't bother you, right? Being back here in the park after all this time?"

Lynne shook her head, flashing Sissel a reassuring smile. "Not at all. You're here. Kamila and Missile too. There's nothing to fear. I mean, what are the chances of someone dying, right?"

Despite lacking the ability to feel, Sissel swore he still felt a chill run down his spine. "Please don't joke like that, Lynne."

"Okay, sorry." Once the fire was made, Lynne took a potato and buried it in the leaves. "I know a lot's happened here, but it's not like there's a curse on the park. Probably."

("Probably", she says. Still, I guess there really isn't anything to worry about.) Sissel turned his attention to the small figures in the distance. The little lady hurled a ball and the little doggie gave chase. "It's such a peaceful scene, even in this place where tragedy and terror reigned."

Lynne was quietly humming to herself as she poked at the pile with a stick. "I used to enjoy doing this when I was a child."

"You certainly did seem pretty into it."

"Sitting in front of a burning pile, smelling that aroma, finally tucking into that delicious sweet potato, it was one of the highlights of the season." Lynne's expression had turned somber mid-sentence. "And I used to do it all alone. But, you know, I still enjoyed it. Even if I had nobody to do it with."

(Poor Lynne...) "But it's different now, right?"

"Yeah." Lynne's lips curved into a smile. "I've got all of you now, and I'm finally ready to release the shackles of fear that held me back from ever coming here again."

"I'm glad to hear that." Sissel felt a gentle warmth stir within as he studied the look of contentment on her face.

"Right then." Lynne waved. "Hey, Kamila! Come and get a potato!" At her call, Kamila came running over with Missile in hot pursuit.

While the ladies engaged themselves in roasting potatoes and Missile watched on with a pleading look, Sissel occupied himself with batting at a stray leaf, content to sit by and witness this joyful scene.

Winter

Jowd came home from work late in the evening, flanked by Cabanela and Lynne. Sissel came over, letting out a mew of greeting.

"Hey, Sissel." Lynne reached down to scoop up the little kitten in her arms.

"Hey. How was your day at work?"

"Oh, you know, just the usual. There's nothing too major going on right now, fortunately." Lynne walked across the room to the window, watching the falling flakes of snow. "It's snowing tonight too. Just as it was then."

"Then?" Sissel hopped over to the sill.

"Right." Lynne watched him expectantly. "You do know what today is, right?"

"Hmm." Sissel lapsed into thought. (Let's see. Alma did have her birthday just a couple days ago, so... right. That must be it.) "It's the anniversary of your becoming a detective, isn't it?"

"That's right." Lynne's face lit up in a beaming smile. "It's been a whole year. How time flies, huh?"

"And in that entire year, you managed to die only once. Well done."

"Hmph." Lynne puffed out her cheeks, shooting him a narrow stare. "But, you know, I think I am kinda glad I managed to die just once."

"Glad?! Why would you even say something like that?" (This girl really does say the craziest things sometimes.)

"Well, because it meant I was able to remember you and talk to you again after all!" Lynne clasped her hands behind her back, leaning closer to him. "You were happy too, weren't you, Sissel?"

"Er, well... I suppose-"

"Oh come on, just admit it already! You were thinking to yourself 'When is Lynne going to die again already', right?"

"I would never think such a thing!" Sissel flattened his ears, giving her a haughty look.

Letting out a laugh, Lynne scratched his head. "Aw, I was only kidding, Sissel, you don't have to take it so personally."

"Honestly." Sissel let out an exasperated sigh. "Still, leave it to you to see the upside of things, I guess. For what it's worth, I... I really am happy that we were able to talk again. It's never a dull moment with you for sure."

"Hmm." Lynne raised an eyebrow, looking at him doubtfully. "I'm honestly not sure if that's a compliment or not."

"Oh, don't worry, I'm not saying it's a bad thing. I really do enjoy your company."

"Aw, thank you. That's such a sweet thing to say. You know, Sissel..."

"Hm?"

"You really are one of my very best friends."

"Gee, you're making me blush."

Lynne softly chuckled then planted a light kiss on the top of the kitten's head. Stepping back, she flashed him a radiant smile. "There will be many more years in store for us, won't there, Sissel?"

"Sure. Happy anniversary, detective."