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#Second Hand Furniture Essex
diamondoffice · 4 months
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The Importance of Selecting a Trustworthy Office Furniture Supplier
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In the world of corporate aesthetics and functionality, the selection of an office furniture supplier holds paramount importance. Whether revamping an existing workspace or setting up a new corporate environment, the choice of furniture not only influences the ambiance but also significantly impacts productivity and employee well-being. Amidst a variety of options, discerning businesses recognise the significance of partnering with a trustworthy furniture provider to ensure quality, reliability, and cost-effectiveness.
One of the primary considerations for businesses is to strike a balance between cost-efficiency and quality when procuring office furniture. While the allure of discounted prices on second-hand furniture may seem appealing, it's crucial to assess the condition and durability of pre-owned items. A reputable manufacturer offers a comprehensive range of options, including both new and refurbished furniture, allowing businesses to make informed decisions based on their budget and requirements. By prioritising quality over short-term savings, businesses can mitigate the risk of frequent replacements and maintenance costs, thereby fostering long-term sustainability.
Moreover, in today's dynamic business world, flexibility and customisation are key factors driving competitiveness. This is where the importance of partnering with a retailer offering bespoke office furniture in the United Kingdom comes to the fore. Customised furniture solutions not only align with the unique spatial constraints and design preferences of a business but also contribute to enhancing brand identity and corporate culture. From ergonomic seating options to modular workstations tailored to specific workflows, bespoke furniture enables businesses to optimise space utilisation and foster a conducive work environment conducive to productivity and employee satisfaction.
Furthermore, reliability and timeliness are non-negotiable aspects when selecting an office furniture seller. Delayed deliveries or inconsistencies in product quality can disrupt operational workflows and undermine organisational credibility. A reputable seller demonstrates a commitment to professionalism by adhering to agreed-upon timelines and maintaining transparent communication throughout the procurement process. By establishing a reliable supply chain, businesses can minimise downtime and streamline the transition to a new or renovated workspace.
In addition to product quality and reliability, ethical considerations also play a significant role in supplier selection. Businesses are increasingly cognizant of the environmental impact of their operations and are inclined towards sustainable procurement practices. When choosing a furnishing supplier, businesses prioritise vendors who demonstrate a commitment to sustainability through eco-friendly manufacturing processes, the use of recycled materials, and adherence to relevant certifications. By aligning with ethical distributors, businesses not only reduce their carbon footprint but also uphold corporate social responsibility values, thereby enhancing their reputation among stakeholders.
Furthermore, the importance of after-sales support cannot be overstated in the realm of fixture procurement. A reputable provider offers comprehensive warranty coverage and responsive customer service to address any issues or concerns post-purchase. Whether it's troubleshooting technical issues or providing assistance with furniture assembly, prompt and efficient support enhances the overall customer experience and instills confidence in the retailer-client relationship.
In conclusion, the significance of selecting trustworthy second-hand office furniture in Essex extends far beyond mere procurement transactions. From ensuring product quality and reliability to fostering sustainability and providing exceptional customer service, a reputable distributor such as Diamond Office Furniture Limited serves as a strategic partner in shaping the physical environment and organisational culture of businesses. By prioritising professionalism and integrity in supplier selection, businesses lay the foundation for a conducive and harmonious workspace conducive to productivity, creativity, and employee well-being.
References:
https://www.ilistbusiness.com/listing/diamond-office-furniture-limited/
https://dyrectory.com/listings/diamond-office-furniture-limited
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if-you-fan-a-fire · 6 years
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“Marihuana Caches Found At Leamington,” Windsor Star. October 26, 1938. Page 3 & 10. ---- Valued At $100,000 Discovered Hidden in Summer Cottages at Seacliff Park ---- Police Summoned Definitely Identified as Narcotic Weed Used to Make ‘Reefers’ ---- From South Essex Bureau of The Windsor Star LEAMINGTON, Oct. 26. A large cache of marihuana, being dried in a vacated lakeside cottage here, was discovered by three Leamington youths, yesterday afternoon, when they went to remove their furniture.
SECOND DISCOVERY SUBSEQUENT discovery last night by The Windsor Star while taking pictures, was another cache of marihuana in a tended up cottage about 20 feet from tne one occupied by the Leamington youths. This second cottage was not entered until R.C.M.P. were summoned but through the front screen the drying hemp weeds were seen. 
This second cottage was occupied, it was learned, by Mr. and Mrs. Glen Drew, of Leamington, during the summer months. 
About the same amount of marihuana was apparently drying in both cottages. Total value is estimated at $100,000. 
NOTIFY POLICE The trio, who made the original discovery, Rene Vanden Brande, 22, 10 Marlboro street east, Everitt M. Smith, 19, 16 Marlboro street east, and Melvin Foster, 22, 73 Victoria avenue, immediately notified Provincial Constable F. C. Thurston, after the weed had been identified as hemp-producing marihuana, the narcotic weed from which "reefer cigarets are manufactured. 
The youth’s cottage, a nine by 11-foot shack with canvas top, is situated on Park street, diagonally across from Seacliff Park. It is owned by Sidney Wall. Talbot street west. The three youths who made the discovery had rented the cottage during the summer. It had been vacant since September, they said. 
The land on which the cottage stands was rented from Fred Skeritt, Leamington. 
Late yesterday afternoon they went to the cottage to remove furniture, luggage, and belongings, for the winter. They also wanted to get their swimming suits for use at the Y.M. C.A. 
WINDOW BLOCKED Arriving at the cottage they found that a netting window which ran around the shack had been closed with card-board. The card-board had been tacked up as if to block the vision of any passers-by, Mr. Vanden Brande said. 
Their suspicions were further aroused when they found the front door locked with a lock different from their own. They were forced to remove the door from its hinges before entering. 
Inside the small summer cottage, the former occupants found the hemp laid out over the floor. The marihuana had been partially crushed and was laid out, one and two inches deep over the entire floor. Stalks, three and four feet high, lined the wall. "I thought at first they were keeping a pig at our place. There was what seemed to be hay all over the floor," Mr. Vanden Brande told The Star. 
IDENTIFY WEED Immediately suspecting the weed was marihuana, the trio obtained several handfuls In a card-board box, also several stalks of it. They removed their belongings, locked the cottage again after replacing the door, and went immediately to Leamington, where the weed was tentatively identified as marihuana. 
Provincial Constable Thurston was summoned and readily Identified the sample as marihuana. Picking up only a handful of the pulverized and dried hemp, he said it was sufficient to heavily drug four or five people. The youths said the cottage floor contained hundreds of times that much. R.C.M.P. Patrick Roome, at Amherstburg, was notified by Provincial Constable Thurston, and Is investigating the marihuana cache. 
LEFT IN SEPTEMBER Everitt Smith said they had vacated the cottage in September and it had not been occupied, to their knowledge, since that time. They could not supply any information to police regarding who might have used the cottage for the weed. 
The floor covered with the hemp, and the stalks lining the four walls, it appeared that marihuana was being deliberately dried in the shack. The mattress on the bed had also been covered with the marihuana, they said. 
Both Smith and Vanden Brande had seen the weed being removed from vacant lots by police earlier this year, and they were reasonably sure that the weed in the cottage was marihuana. Smith said he tasted some and thought it was hemp. Provincial Constable Thurston definitely identified the weed as marihuana. He said it was already in condition for smoking. 
FIND BOXES In the cottage the youths say, they found a burlap bag and a cigaret paper which had not been left there by them. The cottage, they said, when thev vacated it, had been clean and orderly. Last night it presented a dirty sight with the pulverized weed covering the entire floor and lying two and three inches deep on the bed. Cardboard had been securely tacked up to keep out all light. An electric wire supplying the cottage for illumination had been disconnected. The occupants believed that this was an ordinary procedure to protect the cottages from fire. 
In one corner of the cabin was a pile of cardboard shoe boxes, which the occupants also said had not been left there by them. These and the burlap bag, they thought, might have been used for transporting the marihuana. They attached no significance to the cigaret paper. 
BREAK IN "I was mad. The first thing I saw all over the bed and floor was this weed. We thought wed find out what it was. Somebodv had locked the door. After we peeked m and saw all this, we broke in. As soon as I found it I thought immediately of marihuana,” Mr. Smith said. 
"I figured if it was anything at all. marihuana would be the only thing they would put in there, Mr. Vanden Brande added. 
Mr. Vanden Brande operates the Leamington Business College here and is engaged with Mr. Smith in auditing books of local business places. 
Earlier this year, authorities at Point Pelee National Park discovered several hundred thousand dollars worth of the weed growing wild. It was removed and destroyed under police surveillance. Some had been carried off, however, workers discovered, while they were removing it.
Trio Discover Makings For Reefer Cigarets The most sensational discovery of marihuana, loco weed from which "reefer cigarets are manufactured, was made by three Leamington youths at a lakeside, cottage yesterday. Returning to their summer residence, near Seacliff Park, to remove furniture and luggage, they found their small place had been turned into a cache for drying the vicious drug. Rene Vanden Brande, one of the trio, is shown above at the left, pointing to a pile of shoe boxes in a corner of the cottage. The youths believe that whoever is responsible for the weed used the boxes for transporting it. Vanden Brande is shown at the right with his two companions checking over samples of the marihuana. Left to right are: Everitt Smith and Melvin Foster, with some of the stalks of marihuana, and Vanden Brande, holding a shoe box containing some of the dried and pulverized plant. Subsequent search revealed another cottage, 20 feet away, in which more of the weed was being dried,
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designbydeborah1 · 2 years
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How to find the best-refurbished furniture near you!
There are several advantages to purchasing used furniture rather than new furniture. While inexpensive low-cost used furniture is generally thought of by budget buyers, there are just as many people who like second-hand furniture because of its exceptional quality. These customers are frequently willing to spend hundreds of dollars on a second-hand dresser or dining room set. So, when looking for the best-used furniture near you, it’s best to consider your needs.
If pricing is the most important consideration, or if you are in a transitory living arrangement, thrift, and second-hand stores are ideal.
In this instance, you should look for a local business rather than shop vintage furniture online. Some shops do not find the need (or have the time) to thoroughly catalog their wares on a website due to their cheap price point. They also do not normally polish, refinish, or reupholster their things. In other words, everything is sold "as is." If you're prepared to put in some effort, you may frequently get a great price on secondhand things. You could even come upon a genuine diamond in the rough that can be restored to appear like a million bucks!
Best sites for refurbished furniture?
Chairish.com, eBay.com, Facebook Marketplace (the new Craigslist), Etsy.com, and, of course, eBohemians.com are the greatest places to find secondhand furniture. If you have exceptionally deep funds and excellent taste, 1stdibs.com is also a wonderful source for high-quality secondhand furniture and antiques. And if you are looking to shop vintage furniture online in Essex, Design by Deborah is your best bet!
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simplymedsonlineuk · 4 years
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Buy Champix to kick the habit of cigarette smoking and take the first step towards your journey of leading a healthier lifestyle
Many people who struggle to quit smoking need prescription medication like Champix to help them through the process. To quit smoking is an outstanding health decision, but you should be realistic in knowing that you will be tempted and it will require endless patience on your part. Initially, the withdrawal symptoms are said to be the worst, but once you have survived that, the chances of you quitting the habit for good, are very good.
People who smoke have a greater chance of developing heart disease, lung disease, cancer and even Covid-19. Because cigarette smoke weakens the immune system, smokers are more susceptible to colds and lung infections. Health experts say the toxic substances in tobacco cigarettes are damaging to almost every part of a person's body and that the best time to quit the stinking habit, is now!
The harmful chemicals contained in tobacco cigarettes are abundant and it contains a variety of detrimental toxins. However, smokers try not to think about these dangers, because it is upsetting, but the truth is that smoking can kill you.
Carcinogens, toxic metals and toxins enter your bloodstream every time you puff on a cigarette. These toxins and combinations of chemicals distress everything in your body from your pulse rate and blood pressure to your organs and your immune system, not to mention the damaging effect that second-hand cigarette smoke has on other people.
Second-hand smoke is known to contain up to 70 carcinogenic chemicals and at least 250 other toxic chemicals. Research shows that second-hand smoke offers no risk-free level of exposure to anyone. This basically means that even when you smell cigarette smoke in the air, it can be harmful to your health.
Few smokers are actually aware of the fact that cigarette smoking is also harmful to animals. Second-hand smoke lingers in the air for quite some time and it is then inhaled by pets. Third-hand smoke is the remnants of hazardous substances like nicotine that stick to skin, fur, carpets, furniture and clothing, and it can possibly be absorbed by animals.
Like children, cats and dogs spend a lot of time on carpets, the floor or furniture where remnants of cigarette smoke accumulate in layers of dust. From there, it could easily find its way onto an animal's fur and skin. Animals also absorb the hazardous substances when they lick the owner, themselves or other animals in the household.
There is no time like now to start your journey on a healthy, smoke-free life. The rewards include multiple health benefits and with the help of medication like Champix, you can quit sooner than you initially planned. Think about this: after 20 minutes of smoking your last cigarette, your body starts to heal. The noticeable changes in your physical as well as mental health, will continue to develop, and soon everything will smell and taste better.
Champix is ​​often prescribed by health practitioners to help smokers keep their cravings and emotions under control. Although each person's approach to quitting may be different, you can certainly quit smoking by using Champix. You can buy Champix with a prescription, from any licenced pharmacy.
Most insurance plans these days offer free quit-smoking programs as part of their annual benefits. If you are struggling to kick the habit, talk to your doctor about pharmaceutical options that may help or visit any leading online pharmacy for quick and easy access to various treatment options.
Although millions of people derive pleasure from it, smoking is a destructive and expensive hobby that not only has a negative impact on the smoker's health but also on those around him. Tobacco use is today considered to be the leading cause of preventable death in the world, but these figures could drastically decrease as more people quit smoking.
When you buy and start using Champix, you will take the first step towards saving not only your life but also the lives of other people.
About us
Based in Essex (UK) SimplyMeds Online is a pharmacy and online medicine dispensary that was started in 2015 by two experienced healthcare professionals. Our main focus is online patients and we aim to innovate and improve people’s access to medicine. We continuously strive to be the best online provider of simple, reliable, and affordable private healthcare to UK prescribers, without compromising on patient care and we take pride in making sure our content and patient treatments are relevant. Our comprehensive and detailed website allows patients access to various medicines and treatments. For more information, visit us at https://www.simplymedsonline.co.uk/
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citrinekay · 5 years
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2: i loved in "two inches to the left" the brief mention of Bill's apartment being almost barren and impersonal--would love to see something about Holden moving in and helping fill those spaces. whether it's them actively doing it together, or Bill realizing after awhile that Holden has helped him make a house into a home, so to speak.
Me: I love angst. I’m an angst master. give me all the pain and suffering. 
Also me getting this prompt: i’m just a soft baby. love poetry and sappiness. give me all the tooth-rotting fluff. 
You have been warned!
Holden hadn’t had many stipulations when he agreed to move in. The only thing he wanted to bring from his old, bachelor lifestyle was his collection of books. In his old apartment, he didn’t have much room for the ever-growing number of paperbacks, and a dismaying handful of them had never made it outside of his moving boxes. 
In retrospect, he’d never meant to stay at that apartment for so long. When he’d first returned from his brick agent days in Chicago, he’d rented the apartment with the plan - or rather belief - that he’d soon get back into the dating pool and find someone to move on with. As it turned out, his new job in witness protection hadn’t afforded him much time to break into the dating scene.
 It wasn’t until he met Debbie that he thought he might be onto something. But Debbie wasn’t all that interested in hanging around his apartment or his book collection. She had her own books and ideas, and so the paperbacks stayed in their boxes. Then came Kemper and the study, profiling, consults, work days that bled into one another with few breaks in between. Holden’s book collection gathered dust in his guest bedroom even as it continued to grow. 
They’re enjoying an unusual weekend off in downtown Fredricksburg when Holden pulls Bill into a vintage book shop that’s displaying a second edition of John Keats in the window. 
Bill looks on in amusement as Holden forks over the cash for the volume. 
“I didn’t know you were a poetry guy.”
“You learn something new every day.” Holden says, gleefully taking the bag from the cashier. “I have a pretty big collection of books in my apartment. I just don’t have the time to read all of them.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, mostly still boxed up.” Holden says as they step out of the shop and back onto the bustling sidewalk. “I don’t have a shelf for them.”
“We should get you one.”
“Maybe we can.” Holden says, “That giant, bare wall in your living room would make the perfect spot.”
Maybe he hadn’t really meant to say it, or though it would come out as a jest. But Bill stops walking behind him, and Holden gets several feet up the sidewalk before he realizes Bill isn’t matching his pace. 
“What?” Holden asks, wandering back down the sidewalk to Bill’s side. 
“Are you inviting yourself to move in with me?” Bill asks, a conflicted look of disbelief and eagerness colliding in the lopsided smile on his mouth. 
“It was a joke.” Holden says, giving a forced chuckle. “Right?”
Bill shrugs. “A joke. Sure.”
The joke lasts for a week before Bill brings it up again. They’re lying in a hotel bed across the country, in California where the sun is shining through the window, and the air on the West Coast is starting to have a familiar tang. 
Bill’s fingertips wander down Holden’s arm, awakening goosebumps. 
“It’s not such a bad idea, you know.” He says, “You moving in with me.”
“You think so?”
“Mhm. We practically live together as it is.” 
“It would be more efficient.” Holden says, adjusting his cheek against Bill’s shoulder, and smoothing a hand over his bare ribs. “One mortgage, fewer bills …”
“I’m not talking about that.” 
Holden slowly lifts his head from Bill’s chest. Bill’s eyes are somber, that storm-cloud gray that makes Holden want to live inside them - and now he can have it every day without interruption if he wants.  
“Me either. Not really.” He whispers, his chest aching with a sudden joyful longing. 
Though they never really said it aloud, the decision had already been made. The next week when they get back into town, Holden cleans out his apartment. The last thing he loads up are the boxes of books which has now grown to an even six. The Keats book is sitting on the top of the last box that he slides into his trunk. A smile fixes itself on his mouth as he climbs behind the wheel and drives away from Essex House for the last time. 
~
The power drill whirs as it slides the last nail in place, completing the polished, walnut bookcase Holden had picked from a dozen other choices at the store. Bill sets the tool aside, and runs a hand across the finished corner. 
“You think it’s big enough?” He asks, shooting a teasing glance at the stacks of boxes sitting in the corner of the living room. 
“It better be.” Holden says, climbing to his feet. “Here, help me stand it up.”
They each take an end, carefully pulling the bookcase up from the floor, and guiding it to its spot along the wall. Bill takes a step back to survey the new fixture in his living room. Aside from a few pictures of Brian, there aren’t many personal touches in his house. He’d moved in here a few months after the divorce was finalized, and had never taken the time to decorate. He kept the place clean, but with the amount of traveling they do for work, the house had sat mostly empty for the past few years, looking more like the inside of a home improvement magazine than a lived-in, nurtured space. The simple addition of the bookcase feels revolutionary, but it isn’t just the piece of furniture that’s injecting warmth into this previously cold space. 
Bill slips his arm around Holden’s waist, and pulls him to his side. 
“It looks good, baby.” 
“Yeah, really good.” Holden whispers, resting his head on Bill’s shoulder. 
Bill glances down when he hears Holden sniffs, quietly. “Hey, what’s the matter? Don’t tell me you hate it.”
“I don’t. I love it.” Holden says, casting Bill a misty gaze and trembling smile. “It’s what I always wanted.”
Bill gives his lower back a reassuring pat. “Good. How about we put the books up there?”
“Okay.” 
Holden drags out the first box with a delicate touch, almost a reverence. He takes out each book, inspecting the spine carefully before arranging them on the shelf. Bill grabs the second box, and starts from the other side of the bookshelf. They meet in the middle after unpacking the sixth and final box. There’s still one empty shelf. 
“And room for more.” Bill observes. 
“You shouldn’t encourage me.” Holden says, “I have a real problem. I haven’t read half of the books I already have.”
“Why not?”
“Do I seem like a guy with a lot of time on his hands?” Holden asks, running his fingertips along the spines of the books. 
“We could make time.” Bill says. 
Holden casts him a fond glance. “I would love that.”
“How about drink?” Bill says, climbing to his feet. 
“Yeah, sounds good.” 
Holden lingers by the bookshelf while Bill gets up to retrieve glasses. Among his drink selections is a good bottle of scotch Wendy had bought him when they finished the study. She’d told him to open it on a special occasion. He hadn’t found that moment until now. 
Grabbing the scotch and the glasses, Bill goes back into the living room to find Holden sitting cross-legged on the carpet with the Keats book open in his lap. 
Bill pours them both a drinks, and offers a glass to Holden. Sitting down on the floor beside Holden, he wraps an arm around him, and peeks over his shoulder at the words on the page. 
“A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness; but still will keep a bower quiet for us, and a sleep full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.” He reads the first few lines quietly. 
Holden glances over at him, a smile quivering on his mouth for a moment before he presses a kiss to Bill’s mouth. When he leans back, he laughs quietly, “I never thought I would hear you read poetry to me.”
“Neither did I.” Bill says, chuckling into his sip of scotch. 
He tightens his grasp around Holden’s waist, impressing the warmth of Holden’s body into his mind like some kind of signpost that this moment is real - just as real as precinct after precinct, dead bodies, killers, questions in the dark. And it’s not just the poetry that’s surprising; he never really thought these four walls would feel like a real home. He thought he’d lost that forever. 
“Keep going.” Holden whispers. 
Bill takes another drink of the scotch to loosen the thickness in his throat before he turns his gaze back to the old words on the page trodding across his mind now as if they were somehow new and radical. 
“Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits.”
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small-fortunes · 5 years
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John Wick || Blood of the Raven King
Act Two || Scene Two || Concurrence
Bobby woke with a start!
A loud thump in her room caused her to bolt upright with a panicked shout atop her bed. Her blurred eyes took seconds to adjust to the low light of the room and even as her sleep blurred vision clarified, the unfamiliar surrounds did nothing to lessen her anxiety. If anything, she cast her sight about the furniture, unsettled, displaced. Slowly, recollection dawned upon her. No, this was not her dorm room in Oxford, nor was it her old bedroom in Essex. The wallpaper was too elegant and the cornice moldings were too ornate. This was not even her bed.
No, it took a few long moments to pull herself together but given time she realized this was her Uncle's hotel and she was once more a guest to his rooms. This was not England, but the United States of America. The digital clock on the bedside table read 2:34pm. And that thump that she swore came from within the room was certainly her doing. In her sleep she must have thrashed about and swung her arm out, knocking the brass bedside lamp clear off its table. It lay upon the carpet beside the bed with its pale lampshade askew.  She could not remember when it was that she had gone back to sleep after her frenzied writing earlier that morning. Only that she found herself extremely tired afterwards and laid down for what she promised herself would only be a half hour. The sound of the rain so soothing and the hotel so impeccably quiet it seemed. So much for that! 
Swinging her legs free of the bed linen, Bobby bent to set the lamp back upright and found her phone flashing face down on the carpet. The lamp cable had also knocked it free when it came crashing down. 
Sliding her thumb along the slick glass screen, she noted a half dozen messages from her friends Connie and Nate. All which followed the same pattern. 
'Bobby?! Are you awake!? Charon tells us you're fighting jetlag and we don't believe him.' That was Connie at 9:17am.
'Ahoy Bobbette! We're coming to The Continental at midday for lunch and your elusive company. Make yourself decent. Or not, you know I'm kinky.' Read the message from Nate at 11:12am. 
'Bobby! New York doesn't sleep and nor should you, idle princess. We demand your company, and a glass of lemonade, to douse you with.' Connie at 12:15pm. 
'Shall we send Mario round with a plunger? Did you fall in again or have you discovered Narnia?' Wrote Nate at 1 o'clock.
Bobby could not help but chuckle at her friends and their teasing. 
'Heaven forefend Roberta Kent! It's 1:30pm! If you're in bed with a man, throw him out at once and come downstairs! Your Uncle is making eyes at me and I'm feeling conflicted. If you're not down within the hour I'm coming up to get you!' Wrote Connie. And no sooner did she read the last word than she jolted sharply, for there came a powerful knocking at her room door. Connie's clear British accented voice could be heard from the other side. 
"Bobby? Bobby, it's Connie, won't you let me in?"
"Yes, yes I'm coming! Give me a moment!" Called Bobby rushing from the bedroom and out into the lounge. 
In moments she was at the door, unlatching the locks and pulling it open to reveal her friend, colleague and confidante, Constance Blakehurst in a chic deep blue pencil dress and black patent leather heels. Her mane of shoulder length blonde hair had been curled into elegant waves and her ice blue eyes assessed her friend in her pajamas although it was well past two in the afternoon, with gracious good humor. 
"Good Heavens, Bobby Kent! Have you any idea what time it is? Do not for an instant tell me you were still abed this hour?"
"Well...I, uh-"
"Read your messages? Yes, I know, your phone's in your hand and still in one piece which is miraculous considering Nate and I blew it up every hour since this morning. Well? Are you going to let me in so I can greet you properly or are we going to continue this conversation in the hallway?"
"Oh, Connie! It's so good to see you again! I missed you dreadfully!" Said Bobby brightly, stepping aside and letting her friend enter before shutting the door behind her. The two women exchanged an excited school girl's hug that was complimented by many cheek kisses and hair caresses. 
"And I you, to be sure! And Nate hasn't shut up about you since you emailed to say you were coming back to New York! You should hear him darling, every thirty seconds he repeats your name. He's positively beside himself in joy. You really should change your mind and date him already!" 
"Connie! Won't you give up the match maker game?! I've told you before, Nate and I are just good friends." 
"Then can I assume that along with the destruction of your walking cane, you've regained the confidence for other prospects?" 
"No! Honestly, I'm not looking." 
"And even if you were they'd abandon your room in screams of terror if they saw you in that choice not sleepwear!"
This drove a flush of colour to Bobby's cheeks and peel of laughter to follow.
"What's wrong with these pajamas? You were the one that bought them for me to begin with!"
"That was four years ago, Bobby darling. I'm surprised you've not worn holes in them by now, you wear them so often."
"Well, you should be honored that I treasure your gifts so intently and make such good use out of them."
"And I am!" Exclaimed Connie, taking her friend's hands adoringly in her own and beaming in pride.
"Oh, even with your hair a mess and your those old PJs, you're still a picture of loveliness! Go on, give us your runway swagger, sweetheart! Everyone's been absolutely raving about how the magnificent Roberta Kent has gone from wheelchair bound with partial spinal paralysis to walking unassisted on heels! You should hear your Uncle rave about you!"
Bobby complied to her friend's request turning a graceful pirouette on the ball of her foot and then taking to strolling a lap about the living room, circling the coffee table twice in a figure eight before coming back to stand before Connie with a graceful bow. Well! Connie was beside herself in pride. She applauded loudly, cat-calling in the most unladylike fashion and rushed her friend to smother her in a multitude of kisses. The two girls were in fits of laughter.
"Oh Connie! Don't, you're smudging your lipstick, I'm sure of it."
"Don't be silly darling, that's what kiss proof is for! Oh my God! Two years and nine months to the day and I never thought when I saw you in that hospital, that I'd ever watch you walk without assistance again. Oh my sweet God! It's a miracle, I swear it."
"Shh, Connie, sweetheart, don't cry now. There's truly nothing miraculous about it. Honestly. I just got lucky that they didn't damage something irreparable. The rest was all science and dedication."
"And you're truly not in pain at all?" Asked Connie sniffing and wiping at her nose for she could not stem the flow of happy tears.
"No, thank goodness. I mean, not like I used to be. It comes and goes intermittently and I'm more sensitive in the cold. And I'm stiff in the mornings getting up and moving about but once I get going for the day I'm right as rain." Bobby replied, pulling a tissue free of its box on the side table and seeking to wipe at her friend's eyes.
"Oh, Bobby! I'm so happy for you! Truly! You wait till Nate sees you walking. It's all he could talk about the entire trip from Ireland."
Again the girls crushed each other in another warm embrace.
"Well, I'll be more than happy to show him my walk in person. I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting, honestly. It was a long journey over and you'd think I'd be used to travel by now. This stupid injury has slowed me down somewhat. But never mind that, you look stunning, honestly! Did you tint your hair? It appears a lighter blonde than before."
"I did, you charming girl, do you like it?" Connie beamed, caressing her tresses.
"Oh most certainly! It sets off your eyes! And that dress! It looks so expensive!"
"Vivienne Westwood my darling, only the best to walk about in such a swanky hotel." Now it was Connie's turn to spin a circle allowing her companion to admire her fully.
"Startling! Honestly!" Bobby exclaimed. "Hey, is it true what you said in the text? About Uncle Winston?"
"Coming on to me? No of course not, silly girl. I was just trying to get you downstairs sooner. He's as charming as ever. He ages so regally in his silk cravats. Honestly, what a perfect gentlemen he is. I can't believe he never married."
"Well, you could always propose yourself as willing."
"Roberta!" Connie cried, "He's like, what? Thirty years my senior?!"
"Don't let him hear you say that! I made a casual reference to it last night over dinner and he fixed me with the most wounded pout."
"I'll bet he did! Now come on, girl, out of these bedclothes at once and into that bathroom. We need to have you presentable inside of fifteen minutes or the boys are likely to drink themselves to death waiting for us. And I've a million things to tell you, but first, please tell me you were good enough to pack a few decent dresses. I'll kill you if you're going about a classy place as this dressed in nothing but your tactical gear."
"What's wrong with jeans?" Bobby complained with an amused quirk of her lips.
"Are they designer labeled?" Connie asked with an arch of her brow and her hand on her hip.
"What if they come from Target?"
"Then your obituary will say you were strangled by cheap, poorly made denim."
The girls shrieked with laughter and sure enough, Connie rushed her friend back into the bedroom.
As good friends do, Connie helped pick a pretty blue and white dress with laced sleeves and shapely contours out of Bobby's wardrobe. She was greatly relieved that her companion had the foresight to bring an array of casual and formal day and evening wear that was certainly not cheap, poorly made denim and simple t-shirts. Within twenty minutes Bobby was washed, brushed, made up and dressed, looking every bit the alluring young woman Connie remembered her to be before her tragedy had befallen her. And all throughout her toilette, the girls exchanged vivid chatter and gossip. For they spoke frequently on the phone, via Skype and even exchanged letters and post cards whilst on their travels around the world; but nothing compared to being in the same physical room with each other. Connie kept tearing up and wiping at her eyes, having to readjust her eyeliner and hair before finally taking her friend by the arm and guiding her out the door.
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On the way down the hall and into the elevator, Bobby turned the conversation round to the dream she'd had the night before and had written about extensively in her dream diary that morning. Connie was accustomed to listening to and attempting to decode Bobby's dreams over the years. Both ladies had taken on a particular interest in the intermittently reoccurring nature of the dream wherein Bobby found herself walking a suspended bridge that seemed to have no ending in sight. Connie had noted that the dreams seemed to occur more so in times of duress. Especially, it seemed, after Bobby had reported to having had a panic attack. They appeared to be the aftermath of symptoms associated with post traumatic stress as a repercussion of her trauma for which Connie was exceptionally sympathetic towards. Naturally, Connie questioned her friend about her general health and made a mental note of her assumptions. That Bobby had just undergone her longest flight across the globe since her recovery in years and was attending her Uncle's domain whom had a disinherited hand in the events that had befallen her friend's ill fate. This, she reasoned, was likely the cause of the dream's resurfacing.
What Bobby had not gotten around to explaining was that this time the man she'd seen on the bridge in her dream had taken on distinct and ominous features. What's more, she'd not had the opportunity to express that she had been overtaken by some inexplicable dizzy spell that was seemingly detracted by the black dressed couple on the stairs that she had met the night before. Or that the gentlemen in question shared the face of the man in her dream. That for the first time ever, she felt positive she was making some sort of connection to something, somewhere. Only she had absolutely no idea what or where. But that couple was haunting. She'd almost forgotten about them in Connie's company. At last, when they exited the elevator and meant to cross the lobby's ground floor to attend the dining room, Bobby could not help but stop and stare at the staircase, alarming her friend.
"Bobby? Is everything alright dear? You look positively pale. Are you going to be ill?"
Bobby shook her head slowly. The stair case was being attended by bellhops and hotel guests that came up and down in orderly lines about their business.
"No, not at all. I just... I'm being silly. Let's go, we've wasted enough time already and I'm sure Nate and Uncle will be put out." Taking a deep breath, Bobby smiled and took her friend's arm warmly.
As they passed the reception desk and its moderate line of patrons, Charon and his neatly dressed lady assistant were busy attending to their bookings. Even so, Bobby called to the Concierge over the sweet melody of classical music and guest chatter. The dark gentlemen in his pristine suit looked up from his monitor and fixed Bobby and her friend with a gentle smile and a polite incline of his head in acknowledgement before returning to his work, booking in his latest client.
"My goodness! Are they always so busy?" Connie asked as they made their way to the dining room doors.
"I imagine so. I've never known it any other way. But it does quiet down at night." Bobby responded.
"Welcome back, ladies." Said the maître d'hôtel, gesturing the two friends within. "The manager and your companion has been awaiting your company."
"Thank you so much, that's very kind of you." Bobby replied, smiling at the young man with his sparkling hazel eyes and exotic features. Generally, Winston was renowned for housing much the same staff in his hotel. His turn-over was infrequent at best. But this gentleman who was the same fellow that hosted front of house at dinner last night seemed to be a fairly recent addition as far as Bobby could recall. All the same, he was gracious and neatly uniformed, gesturing the two ladies into the dining room where a number of tables were filled with other guests enjoying their afternoon repast.
"Oh my goodness! There she is!" Called Nate, rising to his feet and rushing a beeline toward Bobby. Winston too was on his feet, beaming in his tan sports coat as his niece was once again reunited with her two friends. The two men had been chatting amicably while the girls were upstairs. Winston was such a sharp witted and well spoken gent, that conversation came easily between the two men. They had much to discuss and much in common with regards to Bobby's fortuitous good health. They were each enjoying a glass of rich French cognac before Nate spied the ladies being led in.
"Well, hot damn, lil' mama! Look at you! Walking!"
"Shh, Nate, not so loud, you'll embarrass her!" Connie urged, squeezing her friend's arm.
"No more than she should be, surely!" Nate replied brightly, hugging Bobby tightly and kissing her cheeks. "Oh, but you look wonderful, babe, for real! How are you feeling? No more walking cane! I can't believe it. I'm so proud of you! Hard road, eh?"
"Well, it wasn't easy, I tell you. But look! I'm in heels and everything!" Bobby beamed, looking down at her dainty black point-toed shoes. Nate nodded appreciatively and turned to give each lady one of his arms to escort them back to the manager's table.
"You certainly are darling, but were it up to me, heels or not, you'd never walk unescorted. Now, come on, your Uncle was sharing the most riveting tales of his guests with me."
The trio crossed the floor happily rejoining Winston who came forward to kiss his blushing niece on her cheeks.
"Welcome back, sleeping beauty. Why, we thought you'd never join us." Winston greeted.
"I did warn I was tired, and your beds are remarkably comfortable." Bobby returned warmly, reaching to take her Uncle in an embrace. Nate meanwhile sought to help Connie into her seat whilst Bobby whispered against her Uncle's ear. "I'm sorry about last night, Uncle. Will you forgive me?"
"For what? Having an opinion? Perish the thought. It's all been forgotten darling girl, now sit with me and your friends a while and have something to eat." The elder gentleman whispered back, breaking away to give his niece yet another kiss upon her cheek before helping her into her seat.
"And here we have her, our lady of the hour, Bobby Kent. In the flesh." Winston introduced to the table as he took his seat. Connie and Nate could do nothing if not smile appricitively. They'd been waiting for their friend's company a good long while and were delighted to have her in their grasp once more.
"Waiter," Winston called, getting the attention of a passing gent in this spotless white apron, "a bottle of wine for the table if you please. The '97 Pinot Gris from South Australia I think, considering the occasion." The waited bowed his head at the order politely before dispatching to the bar.
Bobby put her hand on her Uncle's arm, raising her brows in alarm.
"But Uncle, it's so early in the day."
"What? It's past two o'clock, my girl. Did you have pressing plans that required your express sobriety?" Winston replied with a laugh.
"No, I suppose not." Bobby returned, shifting in her seat and feeling very suddenly like a child being permitted to sit at the big people's table. She must have blushed for Nate and Connie both took each of her hands adoringly and laughed.
Between them, the four set to amicable and lively conversation. Their meal was served in relatively short order. Both Connie and Nate were in awe of the expansive seasonal selection of platters and delicacies, heaping great praise upon Winston, whom directed it all back to his international team of passionate and creative chefs whom took it upon themselves to curate a spectacular rotating menu that was always fresh and complimenting of the season. Outside the New York storm seemed to have passed and finally the wet weather had given way to the first rays of afternoon sunshine that cleared away the dreary grayness and picked the colours from the leaves in the garden window.
Winston was delighted to hang back in conversation, watching as his niece and her friends brought a constant smile and a ring of bright laughter to her lips. She looked happy. Happier than she had been in a very long time. And his heart ached for her. He had left New York and stayed on with her in Essex for a long as business would permit during her recovery. What he saw of the young woman disturbed him entirely. In spite of her tan, she grew pale and sickly even after being discharged from the hospital. Her eyes took on a vacant gleam and she spent much of the day and night crying bitterly in his arms. She had become a struggle to feed and only took the smallest amount of food with the highest amount of persuasion until at last he'd returned her to the doctor to have additional medication added to her roster. Something to open up her apatite, for she had lost weight whilst in the coma and was not doing her health any favors by continuing to refuse food.
He'd slept close by in the guest room beside her own in the country manor house. And it was often that he lay, by lamp light, reading into the night and listening out. Bobby would cry into the night, weeping in pain or at the demons that plagued her mind. Often she would wake to screams of nightmares and he would rush back into her room, laying with her whilst she wept and whispered gentle placations in her ear. That she would be alright. That he was there and he would not leave her. That she would grow strong again. That she needed faith and time to heal her. That he was so sorry for her suffering. She'd sleep fitfully in his arms and he would eventually sleep beside her. His heart broken. Terrible things should not happen to good people. But they did. And he ached within, for he was at fault.
When he could no longer stay away from the hotel because business demanded his attention, it was Connie and Nate that returned to Essex and took to living with Bobby permanently adding new life and colour into the old house. They bought books and films and music and study with them. They bought wine and laughter and encouragement that lead the young lady to eat and take to her recovery with vengeance. He was satisfied, she would be well given time. These two dear friends provided more to her than he could. And so Winston withdrew with a promise to come and visit again regularly. To write and call often. That when she was better, he'd arrange to have her visit and stay at his hotel. That Charon would be delighted to see her in person. Charon was so tender, after shifts he would call in and ask for her. Bobby would weep at his kindness, thanking him for his attention that he would wave away. He insisted, they were family now. And he had just as much a vested interest in her recovery as did her Uncle.
What a remarkable difference two years and nine months made to a person.
Now Bobby ate her plates clean happily. She laughed and joked with her friends. Her blue eyes gleaming, her skin and hair lustrous. She'd gained weight again. Her features filled out away from that cadaverous expression she had previously worn. She was on her second glass of wine and was keen to take on cake and coffee much to the cheers of the table. On a few occasions Winston excused himself from the table to take calls and confirm requests from his darker professional patrons. Contracts were opened. Contracts were closed. Names were rubbed off the boards. New names were added. The High Table, as it seemed, were bent on tying off loose ends. And his phone was a constant stream of information that added to the current of order and chaos. He checked in on Charon at the desk who was finally getting a reprieve from the stream of visitors that had attended in the morning.
"Take a break, old friend. Stephanie, take over for Charon, won't you? Have five p.m. hand over competed once your done with next week's reservations."
"Yes, sir. Immediately." Answered the pristinely dressed brunette who was the Concierge's booking assistant. Charon was grateful of the break and thanked his employer graciously.
"Is Bobby well?" He asked after her.
"Oh, splendid!" Winston replied. "Enjoying a long lunch with her friends. Hasn't said a word about her research yet, bless her heart."
"She did say, last night, that she was sorry for a disagreement with you at dinner." Said Charon quietly as the two men made their way through the lobby and back to the dining room.
"I was partly at fault for it. We've made amends now. It's just this talk of the Raven King and he's resurfacing has her obsessed. It seems our associate at the Bowery has some definitive lines of information he's been feeding her. If you don't mind, we'll go pay him a visit later, just before dinner say?"
"Certainly, sir." Charon replied. His features becoming drawn sharply. He'd read all of Bobby's letters and had noted her references to their "mutual friend" with interest.
Now however, the two men returned to the manager's table, the trio of friends were laughing and sharing an amicable exchange but were quick to rise as Winston and Charon approached.
"Charon! Finally! You work far too hard out there!" Bobby exclaimed, rising from her seat and coming forward to hug the dark gentleman tenderly.
"Of course. The weekends are always exceptionally busy."
"Charon will join us on during his break, I trust this is agreeable?" Asked Winston of the table.
Much to the good hearted cheers and calls of "of course" and "by all means".  Nate rose to shake Charon's hand heartily and Connie also rose to press a polite kiss to the elegant gentleman's cheek.
The observant waiters who noted Winton's re-entrance to the dining room with Charon at his side and were quick to set an additional place at the table, taking the Concierge's order for a strong cappuccino and a slice of chocolate torte.
"These desserts are so decadent!" Connie exclaimed, "Are they also made in house?"
"Daily, by our French pâtissie." Charon replied proudly.
"And tell me, Charon, is it some pretty, available blonde girl that's currently looking for a willing suitor?" Nate teased with a twinkle in his eyes.
"He's forty-six, married for eight years and has a two small children, putting him directly out of your range." Charon replied curtly, his lips curling in jest. The table took to laugh as Nate smacked his hand upon it with mock disappointment and a cry of,
"Damn! Bested again!"
Now the table settled with seconds for coffee, tea and sweets, accompanied by Charon's masterful knowledge of city, took to conversing rapidly about all of New York's finest sights and sounds. It seemed the friends were keen on taking Bobby out and away from her expansive research and allowing her the opportunity to simply have fun. Bobby immediately chimed that she wished to visit New York's Public Library for she had heard they had very particular books in the stacks that were available for limited reading sessions that she was absolutely bent on viewing. Nate and Connie both groaned insisting they instead attend an array of vibrant bars and night clubs. Teasing her about finding a boyfriend before spinsterhood set in.
"Connie!" Bobby cried, giggling and blushing profusely.
"Well, it's true, isn't it, Nate? Tell her! I mean, look around you, there are so many charming gentleman in his very hotel. Isn't it true, Winton? I dare say you're conspiring to have only the most elegant men and women stay on. There's not a badly dressed man about."
"She's got a point there, Bobby, I'm starting to feel dreadfully deficient." Nate agreed, sipping at his coffee cup.
"Oh, you're both impossible. See what I have to deal with, gentleman? See how they try to twist and pervert me?" Bobby complained to Charon and Winston whom looked at each other knowingly with deep smiles.
"So go on," Nate pressed, "For the sake of the girls, because none of them will look at me with a yard pole, which of these guests of yours are eligible bachelors?"
The ladies giggled profusely and Winston and Charon set to give each other yet another knowing glance.
"Well, which one takes your fancy?" Winston asked with a raise of his brow, sipping at his coffee cup.
"How about that gentleman over there in the sports coat on table seventeen?" Connie began inclining her head and whispering conspiratorially.
Amused, Charon sought to play the game.
"That is Mr. David Macavoy. He's thirty-six and said to have a sweetheart who works as a dental hygienist and is currently dating her employer. Just as well. Mr. Macavoy keeps a string of causal mistresses as he travels to and from stock broker's offices securing stocks and trades."
This made the table "ooh" and "ahh". Bobby simply rolled her eyes.
"The torn adulterant businessman is not my forte."
"Then what about the fellow leaning on the bar?" Connie laughed raising her brow in his general direction to a smart dressed young man in a tweed coat that had the air of a dandy and was drinking a nip of scotch whilst checking his phone.
"One of our frequent, fly in, fly outs from Italy." Charon explained. "Antonino Borguesso, son of wine importer for Borguesso Limited. He's waiting on his companion as we speak."
Winston chuckled to himself at this admission, shaking his head knowingly. For shortly thereafter, Mr. Borguesso's companion came through the balcony doors at the far end of the dining room, having finished his cigarette and returned to Antonino at the bar. The two men embraced warmly and kissed.
Nate fell into a fit of laughter, reclining back into his chair.
"Rotten luck, Connie, your radar's right broken, love. Give it up!" Connie pouted huffing at her friend whilst Bobby simply rolled her eyes and shook her head.
"Her radar's not the only thing that's broken." Bobby admitted.
"Oh, Ha! Ha! Laugh it up why don't you!" Connie returned sarcastically, ignoring the laughs of the table and casting her eyes about the dining room for other prospective suitors.
It was at that moment, just as the clock stuck four in the afternoon that a very particular gentleman wearing a dark Italian suit and tie, his coat unbuttoned, and his long dark hair framing his face; came strolling into the dining room casually. He was tall and classically handsome. His beard and moustache impeccably groomed. He had dark eyes and an easy smile as he nodded to the maître d'hôtel who gladly waved him toward the bar.
More than one of the guests in the dining room looked up from their meals or conversations, fixing the gentleman with polite glances that seemed to boarder on knowing familiarity. Connie could not help but look him up and down and audibly gasp as she elbowed Bobby's ribs and inclined her head in his direction.
"Bobby! Bobby, shut up a minute and look at him."
"Ouch! What? Who?"
"Him, at the bar. Be discreet, it's like the whole room's watching him. God, he's handsome!"
Bobby followed her friend's gaze, for she was caught in conversation with her Uncle and did not see the gentleman arrive. Now however she watched him ease himself with effortless grace against the bar some three stools away from Mr. Borguesso and his lover. He leaned in quietly and ordered a drink of the bar tender who smiled and set to serve him.
Bobby swallowed thickly watching him... And the world... slowed down.
It was as though time it's self was reluctant to move forward. Every moment seemed to hang in suspended animation, dilated in space and time. Hanging like a droplet of water to a flower petal and clinging to the edge... Unwilling to let go.
That ringing in her head cascaded forth once more to the beating of her pulsing heart. Growing in volume so as the sounds of the dining room around her became muted and inconsequential. The clink of silverware against porcelain. The chatter of the guests, the sounds of the staff as they set down plates or spoke instructions to each other in hushed voices.
The air seemed to grow colder, for her skin edged with goose bumps against her arms and across the back of her neck.
It was him.
It was certainly him.
The same gentleman she had met on the stairs last night escorting that beautiful woman in her dark dress and opera gloves.
That face... that was the face of the man on the bridge in her dream.
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This ringing in her head... As if she were underwater and all sound was now coming back to surface. She closed her eyes a moment and gently shook her head before asking,
"Uncle... who is that gentleman at the bar?"
Winston followed his niece's line of sight and exchanged a quick glance with Charon. Both men lost their gracious smiles. Winston hesitated to answer but his niece pressed him.
"Uncle Winston? Please, his name at least?"
The tone of the table seemed to grow darker. Now Connie and Nate read the changing vibes and stilled in their seats.
"That... my dear girl... Is Mr. Johnathan Wick. Retired ex-military man for the U.S. Marines once stationed in Hawaii. Widowed, recently, to our great regret. He was once one of The Continental's most exquisite professional retainers. Unfortunately, poor circumstance and bad choices have inadvertently lead him back to my doors. Our professional relationship is rocky, to say the least. I would highly advise against crossing his path. Some men, are best left to their own devices. Mr. Wick is just such a man."
"He's too mature anyway, Bobby, you need the attentions of a younger man." Connie whispered to her friend regretfully. Bobby however, ignored her friend's misguided assumptions and pressed on.
"I saw him last night as I was going up to my rooms. He was escorting a lady with him down the stairs. Who is she, Uncle Winston?"
With a deep sigh, Winston answered, draining his coffee cup first before rejoining,
"That was the Lady Judeth Clayton. Marchioness of Exeter and head of one of England's most powerful families."
"Royalty? Here?" Bobby asked, aghast. Whilst she was no royalist, she could not recall the Clayton family name having such a distinguished title in recent British history.
"My hotel caters to many of rank and title, dear girl. You know this."
Bobby nodded to this admission. Her Uncle had more than once admitted to accommodating traveling Barons or Dukes. Now Bobby wondered how many of these established men and women of title were as corrupt as the governments for which they served. She pressed on,
"They seemed very close to each other. I only met them for a moment before attending the lift."
"Mmmh. Afraid so." Winston replied. "Mr. Wick serves as Lady Clayton's royal consort. Engaged in her personal service, under protection of her family name."
"Consort? Does this mean they're romantically attached?"
"The title implies similar connotations, I would imagine. Yes."
"I see."
"Right out of your league, love," Said Nate apologetically, patting Bobby gently upon her shoulder. The contact seemed to bring her back into the present moment. Connie nudged her knee with her own under the table cloth. A polite reminder to look away for she must have been staring, transfixed.
Even so, all she could think of in that moment was the irrepressible urge to look into his eyes once more.
'Look at me.... Look at me...' Whispered her thoughts.
Mr. Wick however, did not turn to face her. Rather, he settled himself comfortably against the bar, thanking the bartender who served his bourbon over ice. He gave the rest of the dining room his back, as if disinterested in their existence and content to be left alone. Lady Clayton was not at his side. And his gentle terrier was upstairs in the penthouse napping comfortably upon a lounge in the rays of late afternoon sunlight that shone through the balcony windows.
"Bobby? Bobby, are you listening to a word I'm saying?" Asked Connie, leaning forward to take her friend's hand which she fixed with a gentle squeeze.
"Yes...sorry... I was miles away for a moment there. What were we saying?"
"We were saying, we were about to excuse ourselves for the afternoon, my darling. An infinite pleasure as it is to languish with you, business unfortunately needs our attention." Said Winston affably, rising from his seat, Charon at his side.
"It was a delight to see you again, Mr. Savoy, Miss Blakehurst." Said Charon, shaking hands with each of the friends in turn and taking Bobby's hand in his own, smiling at her tenderly before fixing a kiss to her knuckles.
"Thank you for joining us, Charon. Your company has made the day even greater." Now Bobby turned to her Uncle who also said his goodbyes of Connie and Nate and came forward to hug his niece warmly.
"Thank you, Uncle, once more. For everything." She whispered against his ear.
"You're welcome, sweetheart. Always." He held her there in his embrace a moment. Breathing in the flowery, fresh scent of her classic perfume. And wanting to give her a stern warning which he held in check, for he saw the way his niece's eyes lingered, unfocused upon Mr. Wick. A gaze for which he did not approve. His heart hammered in his chest in nervous anxiety. If only the timing had been better. If only his niece would not have set eyes on him. But what could he do? Large as the hotel was, he could not sequester a member of The High Table nor her esteemed consort to their rooms indefinitely. And so he pulled away, saying his final goodbyes for the day and inviting the trio to return on his treat for dinner at The Continental that evening. He regretted, he'd not be joining them that night as he had other affairs for which he must attend, but he hoped whole-heartedly that they would enjoy themselves entirely on his account. That hospitality was his greatest pleasure in life and seeing them reunited in good health filled his heart with good cheer.
"Oh, and Charon, before I forget." Said Bobby, as the Manager and Concierge made to walk away.
"Yes?" Asked Charon with a smile, turning to face the young woman once more.
"I don't mean to make a fuss, it's certainly nothing of any pressing importance, only, I couldn't help but notice this morning that my dressing table mirror seems to be broken. There's a large crack that I was sure wasn't there yesterday. Unless it was, and I'm very much mistaken. But I'm concerned with the way the mirror seems to be splintering, that the glass might give way from the frame entirely and smash all over the carpet. Could you, perhaps?"
"Of course." Said Charon, nodding earnestly. "I will arrange to have a pair of servicemen attend your room within the hour and have the mirror replaced while you're out. Is this acceptable?"
"Yes, more than anything, thank you. Please, ask them to take care. The glass appears to be cracked strangely, as if it was forced outwards from its backboard. I fear any movement may make it come away badly. I wouldn't want anyone hurt on my account."
"We'll take that into consideration when we tender our report." Winston replied, Charon also nodded in assent. The two gentlemen said the final goodbyes and retreated from the dining room, leaving the trio of friends behind.
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No sooner, did they make the grand lobby once more than Winston's gentle smile dissipated into an expression of aggravated tension.
"I want every glass mirror in her room, ornamental or otherwise replaced immediately with iron backed plastic imitation. We're not taking any chances." Winston commanded in a low murmur that only his friend could hear.
"She said the mirror appeared to be forced outwards. I'll go investigate at once."
"And be quick about it! If she's challenging her energies as a conduit seer, then it's only a matter of time before her very presence starts to bring forth occupants whose relations we can do without."
"And Mr. Wick?" Charon asked quietly, his own features tight as he scanned the patrons sitting about the fireplace or attending their friends and family. Winston sighed heavily, taking his phone from his coat pocket and readying to make a call.
"It appears that die has already been cast. We've no choice now than to enter damage control."
"I understand." The Concierge acknowledged.
"When you're done with your inspection, Charon, bring a car round to the front. We're going to pay the Bowery a little visit."
"As you wish, Sir." Charon replied.
Thusly, the two men separated to attend their duties. Their minds clouded in warring concern.
The Continental, it seemed, would not remain the oasis of calm and civility they had hoped to foster indefinitely for much longer.
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Within the dining room, Connie and Nate had reseated themselves and sought to chatter vibrantly with suggestions of places the trio might go together that very evening for drinks and entertainment. Bobby however, continued to cast sideways glances at the gentleman at the bar, much to her friends amusement.
"Bobby Kent... Since Mr. Wick's arrival you've been as attentive as a goldfish." Connie teased. "Look at you, you're positively smitten."
"It's not like that at all. It's... the dream I told you about earlier." Bobby replied, waving away her friend's inappropriate suggestion.
"What's this?" Nate questioned, coming close with a raise of his brow.
"Bobby's endless bridge dream seems to have come to the forefront again as of last night." Connie explained.
"There's just something about him. I can't shake the feeling that I've seen him somewhere before."
"And have you?" Nate asked quietly, setting aside his wine glass.
"I... I don't know. I can't be sure. But... In the dream I had last night, I could have sworn... It was his face. For the first time in what seems like forever, the man at the foot of the bridge in the distance had a face I could see clearly and a voice. And I heard it clear as a bell, as clearly as I hear you two speaking with me right now."
"Bobby..." Connie whispered, taking her friend's chin in her fingers and gently redirecting her eyes away from Mr. Wick's turned back.
"Bobby listen to me, darling. What are the chances of you being wrong, hmm? These dreams of yours. They seem to resurface under times of stress. Now, think about it clearly for a moment. You've traveled out of the United Kingdom for the first time in years. You've done nothing but bury yourself in research and the mind has a way of playing tricks on us. Loneliness and longing can-"
"I'm neither lonely, nor longing for anything aside from the answers for which the world around us is too blind to perceive, Constance Blakehurst." Bobby snapped sharply, cutting her friend's conversation off cold. Connie pursed her lips and lowered her eyes.
"I'm telling you, there's a connection that is definitely coming to surface and its closer than anything we've ever known before." She lowered her voice, leaning closer toward the centre of the table.
"I have a feeling, deep intuition, that screams that the Raven King is closer to the physical plane than we have ever known him to be in at last half century. Now, you swore to me, when I set down this path that you would both stand at my side, come what may and you would assist me in bringing to bare the magic for which our mortal nature has long since suppressed from human knowledge. Now, I know, I've been wheelchair bound and out of my mind with madness these past two years, I was there. It happened to me. I've not forgotten. And I'm not likely to anytime soon. But you saw it yourself that day what came out of that mirror when we enacted the Rite of Exquiro."
"We, know Bobby. We all saw it." Nate murmured "And we're as with you today as we were back then. But, the Rite.. it's not reliable, there are too many pieces missing, lost in translation. We may have bungled it, for all we know."
"Our mutual friend, says he has the answers we seek. That I'm to wait here at The Continental until he sends word for my arrival." Bobby returned.
"And when will that be?" Connie asked, her brows furrowed together as she sought to shake the memory of the creature in the mirror away.
"I don't know." Bobby admitted at last. "But what I do know... is that I should take this clear opportunity to make my acquaintance with that gentleman at the bar."
"Wait! Bobby... You heard your Uncle, love. He clearly said that bloke is not someone you want to tangle with. I mean, look around you. These people. Well dressed and finely mannered as they all seem on the surface, they're like hand-grenades. Just waiting for an opportunity to go off at any moment. We don't know what they're capable of. And after what happened to you...." He let the thought trail heavily between them.
"This is consecrated neutral ground, Nate." Bobby replied sagely,  "My Uncle has assured me that the laws that govern the people in this premises are irrefutable mandates. Their very lives might be made forfeit if they so much as consider attending to their business within these walls."
"So what happens when you go outside?" Connie asked, searching her friend's eyes deeply.
"What happens to anyone that goes outside?" Bobby returned. "We leave ourselves to the hands of the Fates. To the Wheel of Karma. To the laws that govern man in ethical and moral code. We cross our 'T's and dot our 'I's and do our best to live out our days without provoking the wrath of the gods and weather the force of nature as only humanity can. Our days have always been numbered and death does not discriminate. It waits. Patiently, at our shoulders with an ever-draining hourglass. Just watching for the right moment."
"Then you are surely familiar, that if ever a gatekeeper to the fates and all their ill temptations ever existed, this very establishment and your Uncle are it. I'd take his word, if I were you." Nate intoned, his smile vanished. His dark eyes flashing in worry.
"But you're not me." Bobby replied, rising to her feet and straightening her dress. "You can't be. So you'll stand by and watch, whilst I go have a conversation with the fates and see where they lead me. Because I swear it to you, I've seen this man before. And I can't pinpoint how or where. But I'm going to find out, with or without you."
Silence fell upon the table as Connie and Nate exchanged tense glances. They both nodded, reluctantly and watched as Bobby Kent excused herself and walked away.
Many of the guests that had partaken of meals earlier had since paid their cheques and excused themselves to other pursuits, leaving the dining room a great deal quieter than it had been but an hour prior. In fact, Mr. Borguesso and his companion had also departed the bar and sought to seat themselves in a quiet corner to take their drinks and talk amongst themselves. This left Mr. Wick as the last remaining attendant seated at the bar, sipping at his drink and idly casting his glance over his mobile phone.
Bobby considered the timing fortuitous, yet realized with every advancing step closer to the dark dressed gentleman, that she was decidedly under-prepared for the conversation she hoped to undertake or the means by which she would establish the exchange. None the less, she had made up her mind in the passing half hour, and turning back now no longer seemed an option.
And so, with a deep breath and a quiet step, Bobby sought to attend the empty stool beside the gentleman, but did not presume to sit down. Instead, with a quiet voice, feeling the eyes of her companions at her back, she sought to engage him in conversation directly.
"Excuse me, Mr. Wick?" She began gently. The dark gentleman set down his glass slowly, turning his attention away from his phone on the bar. He regarded the younger woman with docile, warm eyes.
"Yes?" His voice quiet, deep. He sought her eyes with his own. And the moment seemed to again still the air around her. Heartbeats passed between them until at last Bobby answered in almost a whisper.
"Forgive me... for intruding on your privacy. I don't mean to disturb you, only... I know... This is going to sound completely absurd but, we did meet, briefly last night on the staircase as I was entering the elevator."
"We did." The gentleman replied, quietly once more. His expression unreadable. "And you were wearing quite a beautiful rose coloured evening dress." He continued, turning now in his stool to face the young woman more completely.
The compliment brought a smile to Bobby's lips.
"Thank you, you're too kind, sir. And you were a escorting perhaps one of the most exquisitely beautiful ladies I have ever set eyes on. She really is quite remarkable. I'm sorry I did not get the opportunity to greet you properly then... And you'll forgive my boldness, but... Seeing you again now, I... I can't help but feel as though we've perhaps met somewhere before."
Silence passed between them for long moments as the weight of this admission hung in the air. Bobby searched the gentleman's eyes, ensnared by the way in which the light seemed to be drawn into them, like pools without reflection. The colour of deepest ochre. He seemed to be thinking. Weighing her words for long moments. Grateful of her compliment for his companion. For she was a rare beauty, that much was true.
At last he replied, his tone as measured and quiet as ever.
"No. I'm sorry, I don't think we have." He said. But his eyes... His eyes continued to draw her.
"Are you sure?" She breathed, almost without thinking, she took a step closer. Stepping it seemed, directly into his shadow.
"I never forget a face." He replied. "And I wouldn't forget one such as yours."  
"Would you forget a name?" She pressed.
"No."
To this she nodded, slowly. Her breath seemed to catch in her throat.
"Then perhaps, I should introduce myself. My name is Bobby Kent. I am... or was... An English cartographer and travel journalist. Up until a few years ago when I was met with an.... accident." She hesitated, swallowing thickly.
"I take a different line of work now. Research, academics mostly. You'll forgive the forwardness of my address, only, I asked my Uncle for your name. Silly as it sounds, I could have sworn we'd met in the recent past. I'm sorry I appear to have been mistaken and disturbed your peace." Here, she put out her hand.
"I'm Winston's niece." She concluded.
The gentleman, with his dark eyes leaned forward very slightly and sought to take the young woman's hand in his own. His grip was warm, firm. And sent a shockwave of energy riveting through her veins and up the length of her spine. The air around them grew cold... still.
"John Wick." The gentleman said.
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The mystery unfolds slowly, like a flower unfurling its petals in the night. Who is The Raven King and what dark secrets does Winston and The Continental hide from the world around Bobby and her friends? Mr. Wick has finally been brought to the forefront. And you dare not look away. Be mindful, when you step into the shadow of a damned. Can you hear the beating of a butterfly’s wings?
Join us next week to for the third and final scene in Act Two - Blood of the Raven King.
Write us to have your name tagged in the reader’s list below and never miss a chapter.
Act One || Scene One & Two
Act  One || Scene Three
Act Two || Scene One
{[ @rubydian @lalienna-dementriento @rubydart @f0rtis-fortuna-adiuvat @cynic-spirit @jardanijovonovichs @overheardatthecontinental @sapphowinter ]}
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How height adjustable electric desks are a healthy choice for the workplace in today’s time?
Sitting all day at one place in the same position can be hazardous for employees.They do not affect the lower back and other health issues, but also make theemployees feel lethargic. The productivity of business gets affected because of thelow efficiency of employees. One way to combat this problem is to use height-adjustable electric desks.With these desks, anyone can raise or lower the height as per the needs. You canadjust the desk to stand comfortably while working or to sit in a chair. They not onlylook classy but can blend easily with workplace designs.Employees work for at least 9 hours a day. They often don’t get time to exercise andkeep themselves fit. Additionally, sitting at a desk all day affects their health. Height-adjustable desks give an opportunity of doing multitasking- working and working out.A person can still work while standing, ensuring that their health, as well asproductivity, doesn’t get affected.These desks improve overall health and maintain a steady flow of energy and ideas.· Lose weightEverybody is suffering from the issue of weight gain. The main reason is the intakeof more calories and less workout. The key to losing weight is to maintain a healthyand balanced diet and some type of exercise.A standing desk will help in burning calories. This small adjustment will lead to theburning of a lot of extra calories. Height-adjustable electric desks can help you inachieving weight-loss goals.· Lower the risk of chronic diseasesSitting every day for over 10 hours increases the probability of cholesterol and heartdiseases. It has been observed that spending more time on feet than sitting lowerthe blood sugar and cholesterol level. It eventually reduces the risk of heartdiseases.Spending a little time out of the office chair can give great health. Height-adjustabledesks give you the option to continue your work while standing, reducing theprobability of chronic diseases.· Reduces back and other body painSitting for long hours often leads to troubled back, hunched shoulders and neck pain.It is very difficult to sit in the correct posture all day. Sometimes, one is required to sit for long hours due to work causing tight hip flexors. This slowly rotates the pelvis andcauses several problems including lower back, hip and knee.A standing desk can ease the discomfort and helps in correcting the imbalances thathappened from continuous hours of sitting.· Boosts the productivityMany people assume that standing can impact the everyday work at the desk. It isnot true. It doesn’t affect your day to day work; on the contrary, it increasesproductivity. Being physically active makes you more mentally active.· Increases longevity of lifeThe chances of early death are high if you sit frequently rather than standing.Standing at regular intervals improves the mood and energy levels which can createa positive influence on overall well-being. The overall stress and tiredness arereduced which improves the quality of life and increases longevity.These height-adjustable electric desks aren’t expensive. You don’t need to spendyour entire furniture budget on one piece for a quality product. Instead, you canpurchase second-hand furniture for office to meet your needs. This can help inmaintaining the balance between financial and physical/mental health.
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goldrins-blog · 6 years
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Why people prefer to buy second-hand furniture in Essex?
Whether it’s your home or office, having required furniture is a necessity. They not only help in your day to day work but also makes your place looks beautiful. It is an accessory that makes the house complete and let you live a comfortable lifestyle.
Redecorating the home or office can be expensive. Replacing furniture with new ones might force you to lose the strings of your wallet. Instead of being spendthrift of buying new furniture, buy second-hand furniture in Essex from stores. It is a great way of saving up and helps in reducing carbon footprint. These can be availed easily without compromising on shapes or designs.
People prefer to buy second-hand home furniture-
Check properly before buying
While purchasing second-hand furniture from a garage/ store, check the furniture before paying money.
Open up the drawers in cabinets
Sit in chairs
Lean on tables
In case an item is defective, confirm that it is still in a satisfactory shape to start using at home. If it is damaged, make sure that someone can repair it and pay as per the condition of the item.
Can be of good quality
Second-hand furniture may survive the test of time. Really good furniture last for decades, even a century or more. If the frame is solid and strong, it just requires some basic restoration to look more beautiful. All this can be achieved at a fraction of the price you’d pay for new.
Saves resources and reduces waste
The furniture industry is usually considered for generating an unusual amount of waste. From textiles and woods to plastics and resins, a lot to of items are required to create a home. If they’re built to last only a few years before breaking or looking out of date, buy second-hand furniture.
Reduces demand for new resources
Comes without packaging
You won’t be so attached
When you’ve spent too much money on something, it feels you cannot let it go. You might like to keep the things you don’t really like, need or use, just because you paid too much.
It is advisable to buy second-hand furniture and you’ll not end up in paying high prices. At some time if you change your mind, it can be resold at a similar price.
More community-oriented
Few people might protest that buying second-hand disadvantages local business owners. Buying second-hand is simply another way of supporting a local economy. The folks selling stuff online are ordinary individuals hoping to make some money or DE clutter their homes. Many second-hand stores are-
Privately owned
Sell back to the community
Any refinishing or reupholstering work is usually done by a local craftsperson.
Second-hand furniture could be healthier.
It doesn’t off-gas and fills a home with noxious fumes. Cheap new furniture is made of particle board that is held together by formaldehyde, carcinogen which might cause eye and nose irritation.
To avoid the smell of these chemicals, it is better to buy second-hand furniture. Ultimately home or office furniture in Essex will end up giving more warmth, happiness and saves you a lot of money.
DIAMOND OFFICE FURNITURE LIMITED also offers complete ranges of height adjustable electric desks which are affordable and of great quality.
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Things to know before purchasing office furniture in Dartford!
No workplace is deliberated in a form of office deprived of furniture. Not just the workers experience satisfying in the existence of quality and attractive furniture rather it also provides a fine dint on the clients. In case if the presence of the workplace is good-looking, it can appeal customers and forthcoming workers. It is hence really significant that an organization is appropriately furnished as well as organized with suitable furniture.
Proper furniture depicts comfortable, decent, and nice looking furniture. When the chairs, desks, and seats are comfortable, the workers are capable to achieve their routine task quite proficiently. Fine appearing furniture creates an appealing atmosphere within a workplace. A fine atmosphere exerts attractive impact on the worker’s minds.
Things to do before purchasing furniture!
Primarily, make the design as your first priority. Ultimately, the Office Furniture in Hertfordshire design creates an organization beautiful and attractive. Contemporary designs are quite prevalent currently. They appear to be updated, advanced, as well as aspect fresh. In case if evaluated to the cultural style furniture, the contemporary patterns are quite casual. Organizations are currently favoring contemporary appearance furniture particularly when the furniture seems to be bought regarding the meeting rooms.
Subsequent to the pattern, the cost is really significant aspect, which might never be ignored. It seems to be the cost on which the choice of any buying is dependent. When the furniture is reasonable, the client can buy it. If you are finding workplace furniture, never ignore the cost. Purchasing workplace appears to be a task of huge responsibility. Hence, select the appropriate furniture, which you consider must offer the finest performance. If you are proceeding to select the office furniture, it is really significant, which you choose the furniture which ensembles the office despite of accomplishing the reason. Therefore, with an experienced hand you will receive few effective instructions for assisting you in finding your office furniture.
Need for second hand office furniture
Any workplace furnishing must have to be great quality as well as also appropriately structured to offer ease for the employees and the graze to the workplace. There seems to be several forms of amazing workplace furniture that appears to be quite costly. Considering the huge rates of fresh office furniture, office furniture in Dartford is greatly suggestively prevalent.
Large number of small trade owners as well as some firm owners aspired second hand workplace over the entirely fresh furnishings. Spending in completely fresh furniture can be of great cost as evaluated to buying the used workplace stuffs. It must definitely help you in saving a large amount of money during purchasing the secondhand workplace furniture. You only need be ensured that the furnishings must however be in the better condition.
Purchasing second hand office furnishing might not just help you in saving cash but in saving lots and lots of cash as evaluated to purchasing entirely fresh office furniture. It must also assist you adequately in certain times when it's the fresh that you provided your own in-house trade.
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diamondoffice · 10 months
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Why Second-Hand Office Furniture is a Smart Choice
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In the dynamic realm of business, where the aesthetics and functionality of office spaces carry immense significance, the choice of office furniture can be a pivotal decision. While there's often a natural inclination to opt for brand-new furnishings, savvy businesses are discovering the multitude of benefits associated with choosing second-hand office furniture. 
Far from being a compromise, this choice is proving to be a strategic and resourceful approach for companies aiming to strike a balance between financial prudence, environmental responsibility, and creating a workspace that inspires productivity. Let's delve into why second-hand office furniture in the United Kingdom is emerging as a smart and compelling choice for businesses of all kinds.
Cost-Effective Solution
One of the most compelling reasons to consider second-hand office furniture is the cost savings it offers. Setting up or renovating an office can be an expensive endeavour, and allocating a significant portion of the budget to furniture may not always be feasible. Second-hand furniture provides a cost-effective solution without compromising on quality or functionality. In many cases, businesses can acquire high-quality, durable pieces at a fraction of the cost of new items.
Consider this: a sleek conference table, ergonomic chairs, or modular workstations that may have been used for a short period in another office can often be found in excellent condition. By opting for second-hand options, businesses can redirect their budget to other essential areas, such as technology upgrades, employee training, or marketing efforts.
Sustainable and Environmentally Friendly
The growing awareness of environmental issues has led to a shift in consumer behaviour, with more individuals and businesses actively seeking sustainable practices. Opting for second-hand furniture aligns with this trend by promoting recycling and reducing waste. When furniture is reused instead of discarded, it minimizes the demand for new production, thereby reducing the environmental impact associated with manufacturing and transportation.
By choosing these furniture, businesses contribute to the circular economy, extending the lifecycle of products and reducing the overall carbon footprint. This not only resonates with environmentally conscious employees but also enhances the company's reputation as a socially responsible and sustainable entity.
Quality and Durability
Contrary to common misconceptions, second-hand furniture in Essex doesn't necessarily equate to worn-out or inferior-quality items. Many businesses regularly update their furniture to stay on top of design trends or to accommodate changes in their office layout. As a result, a considerable amount of second-hand furniture is nearly indistinguishable from new items.
High-quality materials and craftsmanship can endure years of use, and purchasing second-hand often means acquiring furniture that has stood the test of time. Additionally, some well-known brands offer robust warranties on their products, ensuring that even second-hand items come with a level of assurance regarding their durability and performance.
Customization and Variety
Another notable advantage of choosing second-hand furniture, particularly from your trusted office furniture supplier, lies in the diverse range of styles and designs available. Unlike purchasing brand-new items, which may be confined to prevailing trends or specific catalogues, the second-hand market unfolds a vast array of options spanning various eras and aesthetics.
This rich variety empowers businesses to curate a distinctive and personalized office space that authentically mirrors their brand identity. Whether the preference leans towards vintage pieces for a touch of character or modern, modular furniture for a sleek and contemporary ambience, the second-hand market, particularly when sourced from a reliable office furniture supplier, provides the flexibility to seamlessly mix and match styles to align with the company's unique culture and preferences.
Conclusion
In conclusion, selecting second-hand office furniture emerges as a strategic choice for businesses seeking a harmonious balance between budget constraints, sustainability objectives, and top-tier workspace design. By championing the principles of reuse, businesses not only contribute to a more sustainable future but also craft an office space that seamlessly combines functionality, style, and productivity.
In the ever-evolving business landscape, the discerning choice becomes increasingly apparent – second-hand office furniture is an investment that yields dividends on multiple fronts. When on the lookout for unparalleled options in second-hand office furniture, look no further than Diamond Office Furniture Limited. As leaders in providing quality second-hand office furniture, we offer a curated selection that meets the highest standards of durability, style, and cost-effectiveness. 
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Link
Diamond Office Furniture, Harlow, Essex can plan your office layout, supplying 2d or 3d drawings and making the most efficient use of your space and budget.
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supposed2bfunny · 6 years
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Day 5 of 2doc Week
Day 5-Favorite Phase
(it’s a toss-up between Phase 1 and 2, so here’s Phase 1: Events leading up to Murdoc acquiring his cape)
Adramelech demands blood. Adramelech must have blood. A haunting whisper that somehow sounded like the combined voices of a hundred-strong chorus rang through 2D’s ears. Nervously, he tapped his index fingers together, continuing to descend the winding cellar steps that led to the very deepest pits of Kong Studios.
He hadn’t seen Murdoc all day, and he had a very bad feeling. Ordinarily, the bassist would seek him out; even though Murdoc did little more than complain that 2D was a “faceache” and a “dullard,” it didn’t stop him from wanting to spend nearly all of their free time together in their new home.
Not that 2D minded. On the contrary, any second that he could spend with the man who’d pulled him out of his coma and launched him into stardom was well with it. It also didn’t hurt that Murdoc had this small, bemused smile he tended to give the singer that sent shivers down his spine. Or that his raspy chuckle echoed through 2D’s ears when he lay alone in bed at night. No, it was most certainly not a crush that he had on the wildly intelligent bassist of the band. He just liked Murdoc’s charisma, that was all.
Adramelech demands blood.
Unfortunately, Murdoc had an array of bad habits that tended to get in the way of 2D’s efforts to spend time with him. Granted, he had kicked the speed addiction before Russel and Noodle joined the band and they found success. That had been ugly. But he was still an alcoholic, however many flowery adjectives he threw around to soften the word. He also had that tendency to read creepy books written in Latin, with spooky pictures drawn all over them. His interest in the Dark Arts weirded 2D out at first, but when creepy things started to happen around Kong, he became downright scared.
More than once, he’d entered Murdoc’s Winnebago to find the man unconscious, surrounded by empty beer bottles and melted candles, spell books (or were they witches’ diaries? Haunted encyclopedias?) spread around him as though he had been working himself into a frenzy trying to unlock some inner secrets within the texts.
The singer had also seen things—bats, ravens, the occasional pair of tapetum eyes glimmering at him from dark corners of the house. Sometimes he heard whispering voices near him, only to round corners and find himself alone.
2D hated what a scaredy cat he was, and he knew he was easy to frighten. Yet somehow, knowing that Murdoc was behind the creepy shit happening made it less scary for him. So what if there were ravens watching him and bizarre concentric circles carved into some furniture? If it made the eccentric bassist happy, then he was glad to see Murdoc expressing himself. He couldn’t help but worry that this strange gut instinct telling him to descend Kong would lead him to something bad. And he knew that if there was trouble, Murdoc would be right in the center of it.
Adramelech de—
“Yeah yeah with your bloody demands,” the singer muttered, unsure whether or not the voices were real or inside his head. Either way, they were annoying and creepy, and he just wanted to find Murdoc, wherever the man was holding his little séance, and go back upstairs where it wasn’t so musty and dark.
As he turned and descended yet another flight of stone steps, he saw a soft, flickering light up ahead, and quickened his pace.
“Hey, Muds?” he called. “That you? I was wondering if you wanted to watch some movies with me if you’re not busy? It’s cold down here. Muds?”
His damaged eyes gradually adjusted to the candlelight, and as he passed a stone wall and entered (what he assumed to be) the lowest level of Kong, he found the man he had been looking for.
Murdoc lay on his back in the center of a ring of shapes, mostly circles but with violent slashes drawn through them. The shapes were drawn on the dirt floor in blood, that much was obvious. Whether or not it was human blood, 2D didn’t want to know. Near the bassist’s head, a small, contained fire burned. There was some sort of animal skin tossed in, and the branches of several different types of herb. Around the fire were dozens of candles as well.
More alarming than the display was Murdoc himself: his back arched up slightly but his head tilted back, his eyes rolled back in his head. His olive skin was pale and damp with sweat, and he shook slightly, the upside-down cross he always wore around his neck gleaming in the light of the fire. He was muttering in a language that 2D couldn’t even begin to guess at—he’d heard Murdoc say things in Latin, but this wasn’t like that. These words sounded somehow more…primitive. Guttural. Threatening.
The voice that 2D had heard was back, chanting louder and more insistently than ever.
Adramelech demands blood. Adramelech must have blood, must have blood, musthaveblood—
Murdoc’s left hand shot out and seized a knife—it was not from the kitchen upstairs. It looked like it was carved from bone.
2D realized what was about to happen, and forgetting any fear or forbearance, rushed forward.
“Murdoc! No!”
The bassist lifted the knife up, perpendicular to his prone, shaking body. His fingers moved deftly, positioning the blade so that it faced down, directly over his throat. His thin lips continued to move over the words of some ancient script.
Must have blood, must have blood—
2D raced over, intending to grab the knife from his friend’s hand, but he tripped a few feet before reaching the sacrificial zone.
He yelped as his feet came out from underneath him and momentum continued to hurl him forward. He landed head-first right into Murdoc’s gut.
“Oof!” Murdoc grunted, dropping the knife and wincing as the man fell right on top of him. 2D wasn’t especially heavy, but to be slammed by six feet two inches of bony keyboardist was never a pleasant experience. Drawing his knees up as best he could with his bandmate sprawled over him, Murdoc blinked a few times, mis-matched eyes gleaming in the firelight.
“What the hell, faceache?”
“Murdoc, you’re okay!” 2D sat up, untangling himself from the older man, and instantly hugging him tight. “I thought I was too late!”
“What are you doing? I was trying to get some fashion advice here!”
The younger man pulled back. “Wait, huh?”
“I was trying to summon Adramelech; he’s a personal stylist for the big man himself!”
“What big man?”
“Satan, you idiot! Really, Dents, what is wrong with you?” Murdoc sat up, brushing dirt off his black shirt and rolling his eyes. “I wanted to consult him to make sure I look the part of the genius rock legend that I am.”
“Muds, I came down looking for you and you were in some sort of trance,” the singer tried to explain. “There were these creepy voices demanding blood, and you were shaking on the floor. You grabbed a knife and you were gonna stab yourself! Don’t you remember?”
Murdoc looked at him dubiously. “No. I remember reciting the incantation, and then I remember you on top of me…” Slowly, understanding dawned on him and he began to laugh. “That clever old prick! He was trying to kill me. Adramelech loves human sacrifice.”
The singer wrung his hands. “Muds, how can you be laughing?! He almost killed you! He’s not here in this room, is he?” He looked around, eyes going white with terror.
“’Course not,” the older man snorted. “The sacrifice wasn’t complete and I couldn’t summon him. You interrupted when you tripped and fell on me, you klutz.”
The singer sighed in relief, standing up. “Good. I don’t like the idea of you summoning demons here to give you fashion advice. You want to look cool? Just ask me and Russ for advice next time.”
Murdoc followed his lead, standing and stomping out the fire he had lit, closing the spell books as well while the younger man blew out the candles. He sniffed. “I don’t want to look like a total slag, but thanks for the offer.” Once he had kicked enough dirt over the eerie sketches on the ground, he turned to his companion.
“What brought you down here, anyway?”
“I was looking for you,” 2D felt his face flush slightly. “I uh, I wanted to ask if you wanted to maybe watch some zombie flicks with me or something. Dunno, just, if you’re not busy. Might be fun.”
“Think I’ve had my fill of spooky for today,” he answered dryly.
“Oh,” the singer tried not to look too disappointed.
“But I could go for a smoke. Wanna take a spin in the Geep? See what beautiful Essex has to offer us on this fine day?”
2D perked up instantly, nodding. “I’d really like that, yeah.”
“Well okay then, let’s go,” Murdoc said, placing a hand on the small of his friend’s back and guiding him back towards the stairs. But first, he spat a mouthful of phlegm at the remains of his almost-summoning. “Tosser,” he muttered.
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roofioyz114-blog · 4 years
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15 People You Oughta Know in the Attic Industry
Getting My Velux Remote Control Replacement To Work
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lincolnservices · 5 years
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goldrins-blog · 6 years
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Diamond Office Furniture Limited carries a wide range of second hand furniture for offices in Essex, making it easy to get desking, seating and storage at a great low cost. Our second hand furniture range is all in good condition and has been thoroughly checked by our team before going on sale.
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tinywriter2018 · 5 years
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Chapter Six 
Weiwei brought her scolding hot coffee  up to her lips.  Her anger suppressing the pain she was feeling.  
“I mean, how could he say that to begin with?  Jump out a window!”  She slammed the empty cup down scaring Hao Mei.  Shanshan was nodding her head.  
“Feng Teng did the same weird thing to me as well.  He asked to expose my neck and allow him to drink from it.  In a book shop!  I thought the older you are the more sense of decency.”  Both sets of eyes landed on Hao Mei who merely looked at them with wide eyes.  
“What is it?”  Weiwei asked.  
“And you two didn’t do what they asked?”  Both of them scoffed.  
“Of course not!”  
“I would never!”  A course of anger hit him.  
“You do realize that Vampires have compulsion.  They were trying to compel you into doing something yet you still didn’t do it.”  
“What?”  Shanshan gripped her mug tighter.  Her knuckles turning white.  
“Its why vampires have never been caught or outed before they wanted to be.  They can quite literally make everyone forget they were even with you.  Wipe a memory, make you more complicit.  Easy for them to get blood, less fighting.  If vampire wanted to make you think you could breath underwater they could do it.  All they have to do is make eye contact and put in some sort of ‘force’ or something in order to make you do what they wanted you to do.”  
“Like jedi mind tricking?”  Weiwei put out.  
“Not like jedi mind tricking...okay maybe like jedi mind tricking.”  Hao Mei smiled, turning to Shanshan a sudden realization coming over him. “That’s why the German’s couldn’t one up you.  You video called with them and their compulsion wasn’t working.  Thats how you find out they were stealing, the figures didn’t match with their words.”  Shanshan looked at Weiwei.  Her hand reaching out for hers.  No matter what, vampires could never make them do anything they didn’t want to do.  
“Why can’t be compelled though?” Shanshan asked.  Hao Mei shrugged.  
“I don’t know.  For that you might need to ask the vampires who were trying to get you do things.  You two have a super power.”  He smiled into his latte.  “Use it wisely.”  
♣♥♠♦
Weiwei knew he could sense her.  If not he could definitely smell her, hes proven on multiple occasions that he was aware of her presence long before she ever made it to his office door.  She had gotten a few looks from the night shift vampires.  A concerned look from Yu Banshan who she merely brushed aside, telling him she wasn’t quitting.  She knew she couldn’t go to bed until she had answers.  Weiwei had already waited a week, without getting him to talk to her. 
“Miss Bei?”  She heard Xiao Nai call from the other side of the door.  Taking in a deep breath in, she entered more determined then when she had arrived.  His eyes weren’t even on her when she entered.  They were focused solely on the papers and stack of files she had laid out and labeled for him earlier that day.  “Can I help you?”  
“Why haven’t you asked to see me since...since the incident?”  He flipped another folder open, going through a spreadsheet.  
“I didn’t need to see you.  Your work as been perfect and there was no need to speak to you.  Also I’ve been keeping my distance, just how I promised.”  
“I never asked you to keep your distance, I asked that you forget it happened.”  
“Everytime we seem to meet something bad happens to you.  I thought it would have been in yours and my own best interest to not be near you.”  His voice was more mater of fact then it should have sounded.  Weiwei sat in the chair in front of him.  Her arms crossed, while he continued to ignore her, quickly typing away on an email.  He didn’t seem to mind her being there, not bothering to ask her to leave.  
“Why were you trying to compel me?”  His fingers paused, hovering over the keyboard.  “Did you know I wouldn’t do as you asked?  How could have known when even I didn’t?”  His eyes finally met hers.  The piercing gaze, made her heart rate excel just by a beat or two.  
“You know Feng Teng, my boss.  He had tried to compel Shanshan, yet it failed.  The older you get the stronger the compulsion, it still didn’t work.  So he suggest I try on you, due to your blood relation.”  
“So you didn’t know it would work on me?”  
“No.”  
“So you were going to let me jump out a window if it did.”  Xiao Nai shook his head.  
“I would have stopped you the moment you tried to break the glass with the chair.”  Xiao Nai leaned back, his gaze never leaving her.    
“Then why did you try to compel me to kiss you?”  She watched his eyes dart down, his hands clasp together slightly tighter, before responding.  Suttle fast movements she barely caught, yet saw him almost nervous.  
“I’m a vampire, do I need to have reasons?”  Weiwei’s eyes narrowed in a glare.  
“You said it was my skill as a hacker that drew you to me, but I don’t remember hacking anywhere in your business area before.  In fact I made it a point to stay away from the majority of Vampire businesses.”  He tapped his fingers on his desk.  His eyes finally glancing, the smile gone, a seriousness to him that she had yet to see since that night he helped her in the coffin.  
“You smelled sweet.  In all my years, I’ve never smelled someone as sweet as you do.  Virgin blood is sweet because it’s untouched by drugs or alcohol, but yours...the sweet smell is different.”  
“So you did bring me here to be what those men said.  As a blood bag?”  She finally said the words she didn’t want to say, yet knew it was true. 
“I don’t take pets if that’s why your asking.”
“I just find it hard to believe that-” 
“I kept you around because I appreciate your talent.”  He interrupted whatever thought was going to come out.  “Unlike my maker I don’t lie or cheat my way into keeping things I want.  I work hard for it.  I was raised to earn things not to expect them to be given.”  Weiwei stood up.  Holding her arms close to herself.  
“I’m not some thing  you can earn or win.  Sir.”  She bowed quickly, leaving him there.  Xiao Nai stood up from his desk, his fists clenching, his gaze watching her leave.  He felt his body react, almost every fiber of his being begging to run after her, taste her, make her his.  But he was taking his Maker’s advice.  He had to be sure, if it was her or the blood calling him.  
♣♥♠♦
Shanshan clutched the piece of scrap paper with the address on it.  Her gaze fell on the half burned remains of a house.  The cab driver waved at her before driving off.  She had made Yu Banshan promise to inform Feng Teng of her destination.  Shanshan knew this was the only way to truly get his attention.  Walking through the rusted iron gate, she found herself moving around broken pieces of furniture.  The front door off its hinge, she walked into the once great room.  If she focused enough she felt like she could picture what it once looked like.  It would have been breathtaking to be hold.  Bending over she picked up an old half burnt photo of Feng Teng and Xiao Nai.  The black and white photo showed them in tailored suits and hair only popular during the 1910’s.  Both looked professional and grim.  Looking around, she realized that he probably hadn’t been back here in years, why would he, it held only death and destruction.  
“Are you lost little thing?”  Shanshan felt the hair on the back of her neck rise.  That wasn’t the voice she had been expecting.  His was deep and luring, seductive.  The voice that had spoken was mocking and hauntingly eery.  Before she could turn around his teeth had sunken into her neck, her legs growing weaker by the second.  She tried to fight, but it did nothing.  As soon as he started he stopped.  His voice hissing in her ear.  
“Mine!”  He yelled, pulling her back.  Shanshan lost her balance, collapsing on the floor.  She felt the blood trickle down the side of her neck. The gapping wound he left raw and open.  Feng Teng was a blur, grabbing a broken wooden leg, he jabbed the wooden stake through the vampires heart.  She watched her attacker fizzle away to a pool of blood and sludge.  Feng Teng was over to her faster then she could blink.  Lifting her up slowly, she reached up, tracing his teeth with her fingers.
“Pretty.”  She whispered, the white glistening.
“Shh, little one, he got you good.”  With every breath she took, a new stream of blood came out.  Lifting his own wrist to his mouth, he bite off some flesh to expose his own.  Dropping it to her lips, he nodded his head. 
“Drink, you’ll feel better.”  She went to protest, but he shook his head.  “You won’t turn into a vampire, I promise.”  Shanshan took slow slips of his, feeling the warm liquid flow down her throat.  After a few sips he pulled his wrist away, titling her head to the side to watch the hole close, the bleeding stop.  The smell had over taken him.  Bringing his lips down, he licked the remaining essex of blood off of her neck.  The taste was more then what he could have bargained for.  It took everything in him, not to drain her right then and there.  Standing he wobbled on his feet, a sensation he hasn’t felt in thousand of years.  He was ‘drunk’.  The feeling came as soon as it went.  Not enough blood to keep in him drunk, but enough he knew he wanted more.  Helping her stand, he shook his head, the blurriness in his eyes gone.  
“I think I better take you home kitten.”  He said, wiping his blood from the corner of her mouth.  
“You saved me twice.”  
“I saved your friend, not you.”  
“Feng Teng I-”  He shook his head. 
“Home, this isn’t the time or the place for us to talk.  You can’t be here anymore.”  
“I”m not a child!”  Feng Teng gave her a wicked smile.  Reaching around he tugged her waist pulling her flushed up against him.  Catching her hand in his, he brought it up to his lips, a simple kiss on the back.  
“I know that.  Would you like me to take you to my real home and show you?”  He took enjoyment watching the blush spread across her cheeks.  “I didn’t think so.”  Picking her up, he held her close, while avoiding the rotting blood and flesh that had been her attacker.   
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