#Timber and steel edging

[signaturescape]

Signature Scapes

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Phone Number: 0459581936

Business Email: admin@signaturescapes.com.au

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Working Hours: Mon-Fri - 07:00 - 17:30 Sat - 08:00 - 12:00 Sun- Closed

Address: 63 Digby Street , Holland Park, Brisbane, Queensland, 4121 Australia

[garfi774]

Landscape Decking Design ideas for a large privacy side yard landscaping with decking.

[reasonsforhope]

"An upcoming community center in Tanzania will be defined by its cutting-edge 3D-printed design. However, rather than being built from layered concrete as you'd usually expect with 3D-printed projects, its walls will be created using locally sourced soil.

The community center is being headed by Hassell, in collaboration with Australian-based charity foundation One Heart, for the Hope Village in Tanzania. It forms part of a wider plan to provide housing, a school, childcare and skills training to vulnerable young girls in Kibaha, eastern Tanzania.

"The Hope Village community hall design seeks to create a beautiful, functional, safe and uplifting environment that provides both hope and education for vulnerable girls," says Mark Loughnan, Principal and Head of Design at Hassell. "The hall is a welcoming space that creates an innovative central activity hub that also connects with its surrounding environment. The design and building process for the hall aims to engage the community and provide ongoing opportunities for local participation and education throughout construction."

Structurally, the community center is quite complex. Its walls (which are not load-bearing) will be built using soil sourced within 25 km (15.5 miles) of the site and a WASP 3D printer. WASP has been researching this stuff for years now and a previous project used a mixture of mud, straw, rice husk and lime. A similar process will be happening here, with a clay based earthen mixture being extruded out of a nozzle in layers to build up the walls. A representative at Hassell told us that the walls will also be reinforced with a thin wire mesh between layers.

Inside, the design brief calls for a large, open floorplan that suits the local climate, with a limited number of columns to ensure its flexibility. To achieve this, Hassell has conceived a central steel beam that serves as the structural spine of the hall. This will support a roof made from locally sourced timber sections. The roof will feature cladding made of readily available corrugated metal sheet panels, helping to keep costs down.

The project also involves the Institute for Advanced Architecture of Catalonia, IAAC, and ClarkeHopkinsClarke. We've no word yet on when it's expected to be completed, though prototype walls have already been produced.

Pictured: A prototype of the community center's 3D printed walls has already been created.

-via NewAtlas, August 13, 2024

[thebirdsandthebats]

TIMBER FICLET

Bernard washes Tim’s hair for him.

(A little angst/fluff and hurt/comfort, mostly just these two being in love and domestic)

—————————————————

“Ow.”

The complaint is quiet. There’s no real fire behind Tim’s voice, more a sound made for the sake of breaking the silence than anything else. He doesn’t even wince as gentle fingers poke at the cut on his temple. He’s sitting in a dining chair, moved in front of the kitchen sink so Bernard can stand in front of him and clean up his cuts. Out of the two of them, it’s Bernard who hisses at the touch, looking a little queasy.

He still has it in him to steel Tim with an unimpressed look. “That didn’t hurt, so don’t pretend it did.”

Tim huffs out a laugh as the hand tilting his chin up moves to squeeze his cheeks. “Why do you look like you’re gonna be sick, then?” He asks, words muffled by his squished lips, and Bernard shakes his head. He releases Tim’s face in favor of picking up the damp rag and dabbing again at the cut. It stings, but not bad. Bernard has already gotten all the grit out, and his dabbing seems to just be a distracted motion at this point.

He chews his bottom lip. “Because it looks worse than it is. I don’t like seeing you hurt at all, but I really don’t like knowing they got close enough to do this,” he sighs. Tim slumps in his seat. He reaches out and takes Bernard’s free hand in a silent apology. Their fingers fit together easily, a familiar comfort to both of them. Bernard drops the rag on the counter and pauses to look Tim over again. Distractedly, he reaches up to play with a strand of Tim’s bangs.

He smiles. “You keep your hair so neat now. I remember when there was a bottle of gel in it every day.” He fingers a strand of black hair, soft and freshly trimmed. Nothing like when they met. Tim cringes at the memory. Yeah, he’d had a big thing for spiking his hair back then. Nowadays he prefers to keep it short and out of the way, even if Stephanie had lamented the loss of the longer hair he’d settled into for a while.

Tim leans into the touch. “And yet I still get all kinds of gross stuff in it every patrol,” he teases. Bernard’s fingers still. His eyes light up the way they always do when he comes to a realization that he likes.

He leans forward, further into Tim’s space, and beams at him brighter than the sun. “Can I wash it for you?”

“I—” Tim leans back and blinks rapidly. His nose scrunches as the question processes. “You want to wash my hair?” He asks. It’s an odd request. Nobody has washed Tim’s hair for him since he was a very small child. Even through his worst injuries where he needed help getting to the shower, Tim has managed to avoid it because hair just wasn’t a priority. He reaches up to feel his own hair, fingers brushing Bernard’s as he rakes them through his bangs. Hm. Not so overwhelmingly gross that Bernard would make washing it a personal mission.

Tim’s head falls to the side in a bewildered tilt. “Why?”

Bernard shrugs. “I like taking care of you.” He speaks simply. “I think it would make both of us feel better.”

It’s not something Tim would have imagined allowing someone to do. But when Bernard asks, he can’t find any reason to say no.

Tim doesn’t even leave the kitchen. They’d never both fit in his tiny shower. Within a couple minutes of Bernard grabbing their supplies, Tim finds himself leaning his head backwards over the sink’s edge, the back of his neck cushioned by the towel draped around him. He hears the water running for a bit to heat up, and he watches Bernard’s face as the blonde tests the temperature.

He chews the inside of his cheek when he concentrates. Always has. Cute, Tim thinks.

The detachable sink head is pulled down. “Ready?” Bernard asks gently, and when Tim lifts his eyes to Bernard’s own, he’s struck dumb by the sheer amount of adoration softening his expression.

Bernard…really cares about him. Enough to dote on him, to cook for him, to wash his hair for him, and what has Tim done to deserve that? He’s so troubled by this thought that he doesn’t answer immediately. It takes Bernard tapping his forehead with a finger to chase those thoughts away.

His expression is…difficult to put a name to. “Still with me, love?” He whispers. Tim nods. He clears his throat.

“I’m here. Sorry.” He shakes his head a little. “Ready when you are.”

Bernard smiles. “I’d give anything to spend a day in your mind.”

Tim would never want him to experience that.

Warm water showers him as Bernard moves the stream to his head, and Tim sighs at the feeling. The water thoroughly soaks his hair within a few moments when Bernard pushes his bangs away from his face and into the spray. It’s the perfect temperature, and the sink head’s pressure feels nice from so close.

It isn’t long before the spray is moved, and Tim hears the pop of a shampoo bottle’s lid. He glances over, and Bernard is letting a decent amount of Tim’s expensive shampoo pool in his palm. He sets the bottle aside and moves back in, and Tim hums as he feels his boyfriend’s fingers start to work the shampoo into his hair. He works first to build a lather but Tim’s hair is shorter these days, so it only takes a moment before he’s running his fingers from root to ends, coating every strand in soap. He blinks down at Tim when he notices him watching his face.

“Baby, relax. You don’t have to keep your eyes open,” Bernard insists. Tim hadn’t realized how intense he probably looked while staring. He laughs a little, and though he doesn’t always like the vulnerability of closing his eyes when he relaxes, it’s Bernard. He trusts him. His eyes fall closed as short nails scratch at his scalp lightly. The scent of his shampoo floats in the air like steam from the water’s heat. It’s a scent that he loves. He’s used the same shampoo for most of his life. It was the same brand and scent his mother used. It smells like home, the same way that Alfred’s laundry detergent and Stephanie’s body wash and Bernard’s hoodies do.

Tim sighs again, but this time, the tension bleeds out of his shoulders. He smiles a little. The scratches against his scalp and the slight tug of his hair as it’s washed feels…really nice.

He isn’t sure how long Bernard shampoos his hair before he finally pulls the warm spray of water back overhead to rinse the suds away. It was definitely longer than his hair length warranted. There’s something so domestic about this moment, and when he drowsily blinks his eyes open to check in on his boyfriend, the blonde’s expression looks just as content as he feels.

“Conditioner next,” Bernard says quietly, like he’s hesitant to break the silence that had fallen over them. “Doing okay?”

Tim nods sleepily. “Mhm,” he confirms. It was probably for the better that he’d be finishing soon, because once Tim let himself melt into the feeling, he knew he could easily fall asleep under Bernard’s affectionate ministrations. The conditioner goes on with just as much care as the shampoo. Tim actually leans his head back into the feeling as one hand scratches at the nape of his neck, the other one running through his bangs almost leisurely. Caressing his hair, almost like he’s being pet. The mental comparison doesn’t make him bristle the way he usually might. Nothing about the gesture feels condescending or insincere.

Soft lips brush his forehead. Butterflies stir in Tim’s gut at the unexpected affection, and a smile tugs at his lips. “Love you,” he murmurs. Bernard’s hands still for just a moment. Then, the lips are back again, this time kissing his cheek. The tip of his nose. His chin, just below his lips. When he finally kisses Tim’s lips, they get lost in it for a moment as Tim stretches his neck upwards to meet him.

Tim’s gripping the sleeve of Bernard’s sweater by the time he pulls away. “I love you, too.” He says like he’s desperate for Tim to believe him.

Tim does.

They sink into comfortable quiet again as Bernard rinses his hair. He’s thorough, making sure all of the conditioner has been washed out before he finally turns off the tap. The room suddenly seems much quieter now that the constant shower of water has stopped. Bernard tugs the towel around Tim’s neck up to tousle his hair. He rubs firmly enough that it jostles his head around, and there’s a mischievous glint in his eye as he does it.

Tim sticks his tongue out, rising to the bait but not truly annoyed. In fact, he’s relieved to see Bernard teasing him again. The tense worry from earlier had faded into something far sweeter.

Bernard finishes with the towel and drops it unceremoniously on Tim’s head. “There. Do you feel any better?” He asks. The smile can be heard in his voice, even while Tim is busy tossing the towel aside.

“Yeah. I think I do feel a bit better.” It’s an understatement. Tim feels lighter than he has in ages. Bernard looks relieved to hear it.

“Me too,” he confesses. Tim stands and stretches, lifting his arms high until his back pops. What he really wants after all that is to crawl into bed, preferably with Bernard, and sleep until his body feels fully rested. It’s not a luxury he often gets.

Tonight he feels like indulging. “Thank you, Berns. Really.”

“Tim, it’s no problem. I wanted to—oh,” Bernard perks up as Tim starts towards his bedroom, rather than his laptop where he’d usually spend hours after patrol finishing reports. Tim’s heart stutters pleasantly when he hears the footsteps immediately begin following him. “You’re sleeping already? Did I break you?”

Tim shakes his head at the last question. “Big spoon or little spoon?” He glances backwards as he pulls back the comforter. Bernard looks thrilled.

“Big. I wanna hold you,” he says, painfully earnest. And Tim still isn’t great with earnest, but god, Bernard makes it look so easy. So he lets himself be held. He lets himself drift off, feeling secure with strong arms squeezing tightly around his middle. He lets himself sleep in far later than he usually does.

And every now and then, after a particularly close call on patrol, he lets Bernard wash his hair for him.

[umbra-draws]

Prologue

Scarlet Shrike!

----------------------------------------------

“Alright recruits, our next assignment is going to be a little bit different from our usual ones. 

Today we shall be going over a list of the Principality's most wanted enemies, currently still at large. 

I hope that…”

Iron Shield sat and fidgeted, trying his best to listen to the Guard Commander.

Despite his best efforts his mind refused to settle, constantly replaying the events of what he had come to recall as that night.

This had been going on for months now, and while normally he could cast the memories out and be able to focus on the task at hoof, today was proving otherwise. 

There was nothing he could do about them, so he let the memories crash over him once again. 

The small, quiet hamlet of Twin Hearth's had been his home since as long as he could remember. 

The fateful night that haunts him itself started the same as every other had.

Iron Shield, who was working hard as the black-smith Sure Steel's apprentice, had just returned from an evening walk. It was a mild mid-spring evening and he had hoped to make the best of it.

He thought nothing of the smell of smoke mingling with the smell of the blooming wild flowers after all the longhouse always had a burning hearth at this hour, so nothing seemed too out of place to him even though the amount of smoke seemed a tad unusual. He was looking forward to the warm meal that the smell promised and maybe even one of Hema's quarry berry pies as a treat if he still had room afterwards. 

When he rounded the bend to see the little hamlet ablaze his good spirits fled him in an instant. Most of his home was in an inferno. Somepony was attacking them! 

He rushed down to find any survivors, there had to be. They were a close community after Elderberry would think of something, he always did and everything would be fine by morning…

The columns of smoke billowing out of the longhouse and the homes of his friends and family caused a wave of panic to rush through his body. He galloped just to the edge of the village but froze on the spot when he saw large shapes scurrying between the burning structures. There was no mistaking those misshapen forms for ponies.

He was losing hope of finding any pony and the eerie silence that he didn't realise until that had gripped the valley deepened the closer he got to the flames. All he could hear was the fires and the popping of timber.

He was too late. 

"The way I see it, you've got two choices." said a mare's voice with an implacable accent and a  hint of amusement, "you can either stay and fight me, or you can run away and send some of my pets to play with you."

He spun round to see a pegasus mare sitting in the centre of the road where he had just come from, as if she was waiting there for him this whole time.

She had a staff leisurely draped over her shoulder and far more scars than Iron had ever seen on any one pony, more so than even the few adventurers that passed through some months ago. What chilled him to the bone was her left eye, it had a straight scar cutting right through it and seemingly had been replaced by a smoothed onyx, that glinted with the light of the fires behind him. A foul pressure poured out and into him like some ravenous beast clawing at his very soul.

Her smirk was one that wouldn't have been out of place on the face of a large predatory cat, quelled any thoughts that he was anything but at her mercy.

"why?" he choked out, his voice shaking.

"My army must grow. " she said wistfully, gazing over the flames, where her skittering creations lurked. 

"B-but. wha-... why here, w-why us?" Iron asked, mind racing to every conclusion and dreading that they all may have been reality. 

She shook her head and snickered at him, far too lightly for a pony responsible for this sheer destruction. "I do this because you are small, isolated and above all else, weak. You are” she looked at the longhouse and a true smile creeped onto her face,” or rather were the perfect target.” she said with a laugh in her voice. She then looked him at him as if she were expecting him to act-whether to run or attack he could not say.”Now then innocent one, with this in mind I ask you instead: why not?" her smile growing twisted and revealing fangs that have no place in a pony's mouth. 

"You're a monster" he said in utter disbelief, all the while holding back sobs. 

Her laugh was like a cackle and entirely mocking. 

Seeing something in his expression her laughter died down and face her softened slightly. She then looked away from him and said. "Sometimes you have to be. This world is not all harmony afterall." her voice was distant and more tired than he would have expected. She then stood up from where she was sitting in the centre of the road and holstered her staff.

She shook her head again, let out a sigh and said."Now my naive friend, I believe I gave you a choice, fight or run. Choose wisely, one is far quicker a death than the other" she said, beginning to walk towards the town. 

The next few days after that night was a blur to him, he only recalled vague flashes of him running through the night, gnashing fangs and warped shrieks of the horrid things that pursued him with unnatural vigour. 

He made his choice, he could never figure out whether it was the smart move or just cowardice.

Nevertheless he was alive because of it.

Iron Shield surfaced from his reverie to the Commander placing the final wanted poster on the wall. 

"This recruits, is a pony I'm sure for many of you, needs no introduction. This is one of the most, if not the most dangerous sorcerers on the continent, this is Scarlet Shrike". The poster of the scarred pegasus had the same smile in the artist's rendition as she had when she destroyed Iron's home and sent him running like a foal into the night. 

Iron Shield stared at the wanted poster and vowed that he'd put a stop to her or die trying.

[esconpanache]

Elevating Lifestyle Standards: Escon Panache’s Commitment to Sustainable Living and Safety & Security

At Escon Panache, we believe that true luxury extends beyond exquisite design and prime locations. It encompasses a commitment to sustainable living and ensuring the utmost safety and security for our residents. Here’s how Escon Panache Villas excels in these crucial areas, offering a harmonious blend of eco-friendly practices and cutting-edge security measures.

Sustainable Living: A Greener Tomorrow

Escon Panache is dedicated to fostering a sustainable lifestyle, integrating eco-friendly practices and technologies that not only benefit our residents but also contribute to the well-being of our planet.

Energy Efficiency

Our commitment to sustainability starts with energy efficiency. Escon Panache incorporates advanced energy-saving technologies, including LED lighting, energy-efficient appliances, and high-performance windows. These features significantly reduce energy consumption, lowering your carbon footprint and utility bills.

Renewable Energy Sources

Harnessing the power of renewable energy is at the core of Escon Panache’s sustainability initiatives. Our buildings are equipped with solar panels that generate clean, renewable energy, reducing dependence on non-renewable resources and promoting a greener environment.

Water Conservation

Water is a precious resource, and Escon Panache employs innovative water conservation techniques. Our properties feature rainwater harvesting systems, low-flow fixtures, and efficient irrigation systems that minimize water usage while maintaining lush, green landscapes.

Eco-Friendly Materials

The construction of Escon Panache utilizes sustainable building materials that are both durable and environmentally friendly. From recycled steel to sustainably sourced timber, every material is chosen to reduce environmental impact while ensuring the highest quality and longevity.

Green Spaces and Biodiversity

Escon Panache is designed with ample green spaces that enhance biodiversity and provide residents with a natural retreat. Our meticulously landscaped gardens, green roofs, and tree-lined pathways offer a serene environment, promoting physical and mental well-being.

Waste Management

Effective waste management is essential for a sustainable community. Escon Panache implements comprehensive recycling programs, composting systems, and waste segregation practices that minimize landfill contributions and encourage responsible waste disposal.

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At Escon Panache, the safety and security of our residents are paramount. We employ state-of-the-art technologies and robust security measures to ensure a secure living environment.

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Our properties are equipped with advanced 24/7 surveillance systems, including high-definition CCTV cameras strategically placed throughout the premises. These systems are monitored by trained security personnel, ensuring constant vigilance and quick response to any incidents.

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Escon Panache prioritizes controlled access to enhance security. Our gated communities feature secure entry points with biometric or keycard access systems, ensuring that only authorized residents and guests can enter the premises.

Professional Security Personnel

Trained security personnel are present round-the-clock to maintain a safe environment. Our security team is equipped to handle emergencies and provide assistance to residents, offering peace of mind at all times.

Fire Safety Measures

Fire safety is a critical aspect of our security strategy. Escon Panache is equipped with modern fire detection and suppression systems, including smoke detectors, fire alarms, and sprinkler systems, ensuring prompt response and minimizing risk in case of a fire.

Emergency Preparedness

Escon Panache has comprehensive emergency preparedness plans in place. Regular drills and training sessions are conducted to ensure that residents and staff are well-prepared to handle emergencies efficiently and effectively.

Secure Parking Facilities

Our secure parking facilities are designed to protect your vehicles. Equipped with surveillance cameras and controlled access, our parking areas provide a safe environment for residents’ vehicles, preventing unauthorized access and theft.

Experience the Escon Panache Difference

Escon Panache Villas are more than just a residence; it’s a commitment to a better lifestyle. Our focus on sustainable living and unwavering dedication to safety and security create an environment where residents can thrive with peace of mind. Discover the Escon Panache difference, where luxury living meets responsible practices and top-tier security in its 4 BHK Villas in Greater Noida.

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Visit:-https://esconpanache.com/

Ref:-https://esconpanachevilla.blogspot.com/2024/06/elevating-lifestyle-standards-escon.html

Location: Greater Noida, Uttar Pradesh, India

[boundinparchment]

Dream a Little Dream of Me - XXXVI

Celestia has a cruel sense of humor. He’s always known this, ever since his days as a student. But a soulmate? Really? Dottore/Female Reader Soulmate AU. Lore speculation, interpretations, etc. AO3

At this hour, the moon was high, cresting over the edges of the tree that sheltered the port, bright and full.  You could just see it through the foliage when you looked up, pausing before you crossed the bridge outside of the hotel.  Over the edge, the docks and cranes came into view, and beyond them, the vast sea.  

The air was sticky.  It was worse this far south, so close to the sea, and the breeze didn’t so much relieve the humidity as it did remind you of it every time it kissed your cheeks and bare arms.  

You saw the ship due to set out tomorrow morning, ready to be loaded with cargo and your colleagues.  

But not you, not now.

There was no point in boarding a ship to continue on a tour you could not participate in.  

A flood of tears threatened to choke you, the neck of your cello tight in your hand.  Your faithful partner, broken beyond repair, never to tremble beneath your touch again.

All that awaited aboard that ship was another nation and more performances, more lies that the nation of Fontaine was not struggling.  There was no pollution, no poverty, no sickness, no deicide. Your patron had been right back when you gave your notice but anything had been better than being a songbird.  And it was propaganda with people who didn’t think twice about numbing their soulmate bond, who had both feet firmly planted in reality, sure of their existence and their purpose.  

You’d once been sure, too.

“Don’t tell me you used your instrument as a weapon.”

That familiar timber had such a cold edge to it, steel in a winter storm, as metal tapped wood in a rhythm you could recognize anywhere.

You turned, grip on the broken cello neck tightening in hopes to control the tremble through your limbs.  

For a moment, you were thrown back into the House of Daena.  Sharp boots, white coat, ornamentation that seemed impractical for lab work but denoted power no one dared question.  Beak-like mask, an earring with an ethereal glow.  His arms were crossed and a slight frown tugged at his lips, as though inconvenienced by the mere idea of running into you.

The hotel was full of Fatui.

Of course.

After all, Zandik had said Omega was working with the Akademiya and what you saw of the lab reinforced that even further.  What had the Segment said?  A man-made god?  

Fontaine had its faults, certainly, but they never dared try to throw off the yoke of Celestia so blatantly.

It stood to reason, then, that any public appearance of the Harbinger would be the Segment.

Your legs carried you across the distance, fury gripping you as you shoved the broken cello neck into the Segment’s throat above his harness ring. 

“Was this your doing?” you growled.

 Through the wood, you could feel the vibration of his amused chuckle.  Sharp teeth gleamed at you.

“You hate me almost as much as he hates himself.  I am impressed.”

You pushed the wood further into the Segment’s neck, reminding yourself that as much as the resistance felt flesh-like, that he was far from human.

“You’ve given me every reason.”

“I haven’t, actually.  I’m not the one who destroyed your precious instrument.  But I am going to be the one to ensure that everything falls back into place.”

No , you think, you won’t be.

You closed your eyes, the port before you disappearing for a moment as the Cryo-encased flower came to mind instead.  A dream you’d wanted for so long, finally becoming reality, the tangibility of limbs brushing, air between you heavy with both humidity and potential.  For a moment, red eyes widened as your vision went black, and hands traced every single callous in an attempt to memorize your very existence.

“You’ve done more than enough,” you said, jaw tight.

Omega drew in a deep breath, more for effect than need you realized, and let out an impatient huff through his nose.

“The experiment was intended to understand if Zandik’s soulmate extended beyond himself.  Beyond the Prime origin point of us all.  You weren’t supposed to lose the ability to dream.”

The Segment sounded apologetic, guilty even.  A fiery knot tugged at your gut.  He felt guilty over that but nothing else?

“I deserve far more than Zandik does,” Omega drawled.  “And therefore I was the most qualified candidate for the experiment.  That you ended up in Sumeru when I did, when larger plans were falling into place was, truthfully, unexpected.  I couldn’t let the opportunity go to waste.”

“Fuck you.”

You pushed him away with the cello neck, reveling in the irritated mark and small dents you left in his skin.  Omega reached a hand up and rubbed the spot, mouth pulled into a grin that didn’t need words to accompany it.

“Both of you go right for the jugular.  Perhaps you are soulmates after all.”

“He…”

“Self-hatred is a powerful thing, Noor 'eini.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Omega cracked his neck before he took one step, and then another, further away from the hotel doors to circle the perimeter.  To circle you .

“Your precious Zandik fractured himself twenty-four times.  Eleven of them are deceased.  I am the sole survivor of his later adult years.  The closest to his present self.  One does not segment their memories and their very being without wanting to be rid of said memories.  After all, we are the culmination of our experiences, our loved ones, universes unto ourselves.  You should see the hatred Zandik gives me for playing with you.  It’s as much inward as it is outward.  You may not see it but that’s because he thinks he’s hidden it, buried like the machinery he so adores.”

You stepped back when Omega bent a little, his face close to yours.  He cocked his head, locks of hair falling softly to frame his face as the earring pressed against his neck a little.

“Haven’t you ever wondered about the wind in the dreams?”

The wind?

Your face contorted in confusion and you no longer cared if the Segment could read you like a book.  You tried to recall the dreams that felt so far away now, cloudy and intangible.  The first dream after you met in person, you swore you heard multiple voices as the wind howled through mountains and trees, like voices of an audience.  And the leaves, in that final dream as you stroked his head in your lap and listened to him explain the Ruin Golem’s inner workings.  

Leaves didn’t whisper.

Not like that.

“I know what must be done,” Omega whispered, his words ghosting over your nose, your cheeks.  “When the time comes, you too must play your part.”

“I’m not humoring this anymore.”

You turned, adjusting your grip on your belongings as you strode away, determined to put as much distance between you and the Segment as possible.  Your anger was no longer a pot boiling over but instead a dulled blade, having carved off the edge of your grief for the briefest of moments.  By now, you knew better than to trust the Segment at his word, to consider anything longer than necessary.

With the idea in your mind though, the memories were more crisp than what the others, you could only conclude meant they were true moments between you.  That was something, you supposed.

But what were you meant to do with that information?  What good did that do when you…

You had no plan.

No job.  No instrument.

Nothing.

You trekked down spiral after spiral, the stone underfoot comforting in its steadiness.  One foot in front of the other.  

Life was, in a way, like sight-reading.  You knew there were notes ahead of where you were, waiting to be played, but you couldn’t get to them until you focused on the immediate ones.

Leaving without any kind of connection to your soulmate, especially given his position, was dangerous, stupid even.  All it would take was being at the wrong place at the wrong time with the right person.  The Doctor would be none the wiser until it was too late and all the worse because you had no means to contact him.  Not in a way that protected either of you and potentially revealed everything.  You survived on that connection, thrived on it, and then to not have it…

Did that even make you soulmates anymore?

What were you to one another, now, if you could not…

You closed your eyes, the port before you disappearing for a moment as the Cryo flower came to mind again.  A promise, a willingness to fix, but what if there was nothing to fix?   If this was what was destined, in the end?

There must be more, you thought to yourself.  More to the world than passively traveling, being subject to the whims of those around you.  More to working tirelessly on compositions that would never see the light of day or be played by anyone other than yourself.  It was clear to you that the world moved on in your short absence but where did that leave you?

A question for another time when you finally saw him again.  By quitting, you’d made up your mind on some things already.  That sense of relief didn’t extend far, though, and at the idea of what came next, your chest squeezed uncomfortably.  

You continued further into the harbor, dipping underneath a large root and behind the tavern, and out towards the wooden piers to the lighthouse.  Sumeru had no proper beach, at least not out this way, but the shoals would suffice for now.  It was enough to be away from the cacophony of the hotel and the tavern, far from Omega, alone with your thoughts and the rhythmic splash of the tide.  

You’d always felt an odd connection to the ocean and its beaches despite being a Geo user and mostly kept from the coast for most of your formative years.  The reliable rocking of waves and the sheer natural force had been something of an inspiration, a comfort, when all else failed.

There was, however, already someone here.  You paused on the edge of the pier, tense from both Omega’s prodding and your own anxiety, blinking once as though it would clear your vision.

You had been under the impression that you wouldn’t see him properly until the morning you were set to depart.

Once again, Zandik’s coat was absent, but so was his cravat.  The collar of his shirt was open, exposing the full column of his neck and a teasing view of his collarbone.  The harness only served to draw your eye precisely where it pressed against his bare skin before it dipped over his shirt to wrap around him.  His sleeves, too, were carefully folded up to his elbows, exposing well-defined muscle.  Leather gloves still covered his hands, his mask still obscuring his face, barriers between him and the world.

It was still cloyingly humid and you could see that even he wasn’t immune to the weather here.  But part of you couldn’t help but wonder if, perhaps, he was trying to help you visually differentiate between himself and Omega.  Attempting to be the Zandik you knew only in a separate world, dreams away from reality.

You had spent an eternity tracing a collarbone that wasn’t his but your fingers twitched nonetheless, a yearning that came from deep within your bones for late night conversations that held no pretense.  Such moments were stolen from you and as you watched him approach, you let your eyes roam over the shadows that dipped across his arms and the reflection of light on the ring of his harness.  You used to admire him in dreams, when you could; now, you told yourself,you deserved to, and you were determined to not have everything tainted by a shadow of himself.

A shadow that he was, no doubt, keeping an eye on from a distance.

“And here I thought you’d be asleep,” Zandik quipped.  “I might have little use for it but that doesn’t mean…”

His masked face fell to your hand and the broken cello neck.  You saw his shoulders rise and then slowly fall with a breath, one hand reaching up for his mask as the other extended towards you in silent request.  

“Omega stole whatever quip you want to say,” you muttered.  “There’s no fixing it.”

The tears that once felt as if they would flood you were far out of reach now.  Stolen from you just as much as your instrument, as your memories were.  Crying felt like a waste of energy.

Zandik turned the neck over in his hands.  You knew all of the scratches by heart that were glinting in the moonlight, the pegbox still shiny with polish.  

Without ceremony, you cast your bag aside and removed your footwear and accompanying garments to stand calf-deep in the water.  The tide was barely cooler than the air and you sat down, feet in the water, playing with the sand between your toes. 

“Why must I continue to pay a price that I cannot, Zandik?” you asked.  “Is this normal?”

His red eyes were too occupied with the wood in his hands, now held at eye-level and examined like a spyglass.  

“Some pairs endure more trials and tribulations than others, based on the research I’ve done over the years.  How did this happen?  The break is clean, with little signs of stress fractures.”

“Something about the matra looking for…capsules?  I wasn’t really listening, truthfully.”

You shifted your feet in the wet sand.  

If you were less skeptical, less aware of the world, you would have thought it the truth right from the start.  And maybe it was.   By now, however, you knew that some things were, in fact, exactly what they seemed.  Others may have had damaged instruments but somehow, you doubted theirs were as broken.  

An old friend, gone.

“I am tired of everything I own being taken away from me.  My life played with as though it were a toy.  Just when I think I’m carving my own path…”

You tore your gaze away from the glowing harbor and the cleaved tree, Zandik’s attention no longer on the hand-carved peg board but on you.  His lips parted and his tongue brushed his lower lip, as if to speak, before he seemed to think better of it.  He was usually so free with his thoughts, especially on this; he hardly, if ever, hesitated to correct you.

“I can take whatever it is you want to say, Zandik.”

He’d spent many dreams over the years explaining his view of the world, of the Archons and Celestia’s usurpation.  This exact situation is what he would tear apart to demonstrate just how wrong it was for a higher being to exist.  If mortals supposedly had something of free will but the Gods always intervened, be it with a Vision or a soulmate or both, then how was that true free will?  So many thought they were making their own way but in reality, one was only following the path that the stars laid out for them.

But fate, he speculated, could be changed.  The stars were not, in fact, the true stars at all.

Such conversations were so far away, though, that they couldn’t easily come to mind other than vague recollections.  

“The words on my tongue aren’t comforting,” he finally replied.  “You are mourning an old friend.  My thoughts can wait.”

You swallowed as he brought his attention back to the pegs, fingers loosening and tightening the knobs, before he handed it back to you.  

Everyone else assumed you would be fine, that you could pick up right where you left off (yourself included).  Ever since you’d awakened, despite your outbursts, he’d given you the grace to not be okay.  In hindsight, he’d always done that after both of you learned how far boundaries could be pushed until the other shut the conversation down.  The conversations from days earlier came to mind.  If he deemed something not conducive, not helpful , then he would not waste his energy nor time on it. 

 That had to count for something.

“I once stood on a beach one morning after a particularly…bad evening,” you said.  “I couldn’t sit, which means I couldn’t practice, couldn’t play.  I made a promise to myself…what I can only assume the Geo Archon took to be a contract,  to let no one ever stand between me and what I wanted out of life.  No one would hold me back, abuse me, keep me from what I deserved .  I should have included myself in that promise.”

You brushed your hand over your Vision before you held the broken cello neck between your hands and wrung it like a wet cloth.  When you caught Zandik’s eyes flick towards you when you turned your head slightly in his direction, you continued.

“I believe that was one memory untouched,” he said, his hands falling slightly to direct his attention onto you.  “You’d received something from the orchestra?”

“My planning paid off and I’d made a decision without hesitation to leave everything behind.  You were right.  That night in the performance hall.  I have been holding myself back.”

He didn’t speak, instead raising an eyebrow but not daring to revel in hearing you profess that he was correct.  Not yet, at any rate.

“I’ve been complacent, holding myself back for the sake of a group that does not see me as I see myself.  The Segment did that too in the dreams; I never made progress on my compositions, I played but it was as though I did it out of habit, not desire…everything that happened in those dreams was, I’ve come to realize, not a fabrication on his part, but an exaggeration of it.  I thought it was him but I’ve been doing it to myself.”

Omega’s words from earlier echoed in your mind.  If Zandik’s own problems made their way into your shared dreamspace, why wouldn’t yours have been accessible, ripe for the picking?

“The second I saw my cello shattered in its case, I didn’t even have to think about quitting.  I have no plan beyond that.   Without a way to contact you, we are forced to use methods that would be discovered at any time.  Why not just…bypass them entirely and try—”

Zandik’s expression darkened and he turned in full to face you.  

“Do you understand the gravity of such a consideration?”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“I don’t need to.  Snezhnaya is not Fontaine.  That you know and can learn how to navigate social structures is one matter that never gave me cause for concern.  But it is a nation that is governed by a house of wolves, by an Archon who holds no love for her people and who believes that only those who survive the worst are worthy of such blessing.”

He’s thought this through, you realized.  He’d already entertained this very idea, hadn’t he? Realistically, not only did it make sense to keep what he considered to be a vulnerability close to him, she could learn from him.

Your lack of combat abilities was a sore spot and one he was eager to correct himself.  You both used the same weapon, after all.

Soulmate bonds didn’t have to be romantic, either, you told yourself, a well of panic and thrill rising as your thoughts wandered to his exposed neck and collarbone, the teasing promise of muscle beneath his shirt.  You weren’t sure how to even consider such notions, not now, not after Omega.  

And the world had already moved on without you.  You had just been another body in a chair, who played well and composed exceptional pieces.  

Remaining with him was the only viable option you could think of.

And if he’d already played with all of these possibilities, he knew that as well.

He was testing you, then; he wanted to know if you had been as thorough as he was.

“I have nothing left, Zandik.  Perhaps this idea is just following that stupid adage of ‘Don’t put your eggs in one basket’ but I literally only have one basket.  Am I supposed to go about the rest of my existence knowing that, if we don’t try now, we may never get this chance again?”

“This decision shouldn’t be made in a state of emotional anguish, no matter how correct your decision is.” 

He punctuated the sentence with your name and it stilled you, your legs suddenly no longer swayed by the tide but instead anchored in the sand.  

“We are discussing a choice that cannot be taken back.  You cannot allow your heart to lead you on such matters.  It is how, in the attempt to avoid the truth, one comes face to face with the inevitable.”

“What is that truth?”

“That the world demands a price from us all and that price is nothing but conflict and suffering.  You know nothing of the true nature of the world and the world in which I inhabit.”

Have I not paid my dues? You wanted to cry out.

“Then tell me about it!  You’re the one who has kept the truth from me and I must pull every kernel of information like a dentist pulling teeth, Zandik.  Do you really think you’re protecting me?!  Do you think that not telling me about your Segments and who you are saved me, after what I’ve seen and endured?!”

Your volume scared a nearby crab that scuttled away into the sand, eager to be away from you both. Your soulmate’s boots pierced the tide to stand next to you, his expression as much of a mask as the accessory he held in his hand.

“When a stranger from the far north came to me in the deep reaches of the desert, I too reached a similar point,” Zandik murmured.  “Driven out of my home, out of the Akademiya, I tried to help those suffering from a disease that has been around for centuries, a remnant of a King’s destructive decision.  And even then, despite the progress of my patients, my methods were questionable, unethical for even the strongest of stomachs.  Results didn’t matter if the patients suffered for them.”

Zandik shuffled his mask to his right hand as his left reached up to take your chin between his thumb and forefinger.  His eyes were narrow as they watched you, as he spoke, as his words ghosted over your lips.

“I, too, had nothing left and everything to gain.  I was promised resources, access to machinery and equipment without anyone holding me back to arbitrary rules that stifled progress.  In exchange for my position, I was given the burden of the truth of this world.  Or rather, it was confirmed for me.”

His thumb brushed your lower lip before he let go of your chin to brush stray hair out of your face.  His middle finger lingered on your ear.

“All of my research and hypotheses and speculation…all of it was true .  But I had suffered greatly to get there.  As must we all, in the end, to get what we want.  Choosing to come with me will not be the end of anything, if that is what you expect.”

Zandik pulled away from you, as though he’d touched something painful, his arm falling limply to his side as he turned his head away from you.  

How odd.  Only days ago, he seemed almost eager to solve this connection between you, to correct whatever his Segment had done.  Wouldn’t he want you with him?  Surely that would make everything more manageable?

Or was this part of the self-hatred that Omega brought up, you wondered.  Not that you wanted to put stock in the Segment’s words, of course.  But he was, in part, Zandik.  A grain of truth was still a truth.

You gazed up at the moon as its light kissed the rustling leaves and soaring branches of Port Ormos’ shelter, the water shimmering with a rippled reflection of the land, an imperfect mirror.  Warm light glowed in the distance, like fireflies resting.  Water lapped at your skin, warm and forgiving, every pull of the tide only serving to root you further in place.

Unconsciously, you reached out a hand and took his free one, his fingers curling around yours almost instinctively.

“Who said I wanted anything to end, Zandik?”

His brow twitched and a flicker of doubt crossed his face as he looked at you; he was not a man who believed in anything until he saw it with his own eyes.

You squeezed his hand slightly.

It was not until you’d turned back to look upon Port Ormos one more time that you felt fingers squeeze yours back once, just once, at the same time as your heart skipped a beat.

[telomeke-bbs]

BAD BUDDY FILMING LOCATIONS 11

This post continues a thread of the ten previous ones (all linked at the bottom of this write-up) on filming locations for Bad Buddy. 😊

By now it's no secret that BBS's legendary rooftop was at Chana City Residence (829 Pracha Uthit Rd, Bangkok): 💖

(above) Chana City Residence in an image posted on Facebook linked here – for the write up on the rooftop location see this link here

However, Chana City Residence also provided the setting for two other filming locations in Bad Buddy:

Pran's apartment viewing at Ep.2 [4/4] 8.50 (when he decided to move out of his student accommodation) that was gatecrashed by Pat – their rough-housing on the bed, that suddenly stalled when stirrings of something more bubbled to the surface, was probably the first time the narrative told us plainly that their constant rivalry and oneupmanship was really part of a complicated love language; 😍

Wai's apartment (Ep.6 [1I4] 6.06), when Pran goes there to drop off his guitar in an effort to stifle his music-making instinct, which is one of the things that bind him to Pat (see this write-up here on Pran's musical spirit, and how he tried to deny that part of himself).

If the building, rooftop and interiors of these scenes looked familiar, you may be recalling them from some other BL series: Why R U and Oxygen filmed a lot here (Oxygen even has scenes at the rooftop! 🤩).

(top) Bad Buddy Ep.2 [4/4] 10.40 – Pat gatecrashes Pran's apartment viewing at Chana City Residence; (bottom left and right) photographs of Chana City Residence posted by Kris Kanchanachayphoom on Google Maps here and here – the bedhead, curtains, gray shelving opposite the bed, horizontal blinds flanking the bedhead, the window mullions, pale cabinetry, timber strip flooring, armchair and side table are all a match

For good measure, here's a picture of the BBS gang (minus Ohm and Drake) behind the scenes in what looks like the very same room:

The photograph above is from Drake Laedeke's Twitter (linked here); Nanon is wearing the same shirt he had on in Kacha Nontanun's music video for the song Secret (Pat's theme) that was filmed at the rooftop, which dates this image to the same day/night of the video's filming (you can also see the gang, dressed in the same clothes, in the Behind-the-Scenes phototaking at the rooftop in this YouTube video linked here, at timestamp 6.29)

‌

The bedroom above wasn't used to portray Wai's apartment, however. Wai's room can be seen in Bad Buddy at Ep.6 [1I4] starting from timestamp 6.06:

(above) BBS Ep.6 [1I4] 7.26

Although Wai's bed has a similar (upholstered) headboard, it is flanked by shelving and paneling rather than windows with blinds. This indicates that the room was portrayed by a different one at Chana City Residence – and the following photographs are a match:

(above) Two photographs that match Wai's apartment posted by Kris Kanchanachayphoom on Google Maps, linked here and here; corroborating details include the shelving and cabinetry, the upholstered bedhead, the closet-lined corridor leading to the bathroom, the overall color scheme (ash timber laminate) and the worktable

‌

So this bit is a little superfluous because it's outside the apartments, but the elevator and elevator lobby that we see after Pran's real estate viewing (at Ep.2 [4/4], starting from timestamp 12.10) are also at Chana City Residence:

(above left) BBS Ep.2 [4/4] 12.16 – Pat emerges from unit 801 on Level 8 of Chana City Residence; (above right) Ep.2 [4/4] 13.32 – Pat leans into Pran in a subversion of the elevator crush trope, that will also get a callback in the LogTech elevator at Ep.3 [2/4] 5.14

Corroboration can be extrapolated from Oxygen The Series:

(above) Oxygen The Series Ep.12 [4/4] 0.18 – the artwork on the wall, door frames and moldings, wall paneling with stainless steel strips, timber edging to the elevator jamb, unit door signage and overall color scheme of the Level 8 elevator lobby here are all a match for the elevator lobby in BBS

The Level 8 lobby details in the scene above naturally also match those of the elevator lobby at Level 1 (seen close-up in Oxygen The Series Ep.11 [1I4] 3.01), which in turn can be seen in the background at OTS Ep.12 [3I4] 5.17. And that scene (Ep.12 [3I4] 5.17) also has a sign with the name of the building on it – and it is indeed Chana City Residence. 🤩

 

[P.S. – here are the links to all the filming location posts:

Part 1 – The legendary rooftop, PatPran’s student apartments, their high school, the white arches behind the Engineering Canteen, the Zero Waste Village and various seaside scenes, their honeymoon suite, the hospital where Pat was treated for his gunshot graze, and the high school reunion.

Part 2 – Pat and Pran’s family homes, the Flagpole Bar, the car park fight location, and the Jae Si Curry House.

Part 3 – Various locations at and around the rugby field, including Pat’s photoshoot with Ink, the rugby bleachers, the iced milk tea (and green tea wave) picnic table, InkPa’s photography picnic, the old bus stop and the new bus stop. Also Khun Noppharnach’s pharmacy.

Part 4 – Pat’s Engineering Faculty (in and around Rangsit University’s College of Engineering).

Part 5 – Pran’s Architecture Faculty (Rangsity University’s School of Architecture).

Part 6 – Various F&B and commercial locations (eateries, shops, malls and a market).

Part 7 – Pat’s post-graduation apartment and Pran’s residence in Singapore.

Part 8 – Various campus locations filmed within Rangsit University’s Digital Multimedia Complex, including the auditorium and the Freshy Day Song Contest.

Part 9 – The LogTech Building and Pran’s architectural office in Singapore.

Part 10 – Locations for the Our Skyy 2 x Bad Buddy special episodes.

Part 11 – The apartment for rent that Pran went to view in Ep.2, the elevator scene with Pat just after the viewing, and Wai’s apartment.

Part 12 – PatPran’s elementary and high schools, as well as the location of Pa’s near-drowning.

Part 13 – Random locations (Pran searching for his lost earphones, the covered car park where Wai spied on Pat serenading Pran with Nanon's Love Score, the airport car park, the SouthTech U Library, PatPran's rainy day ointment interlude, their motorbike and truck rides in Hua Hin, the approach road to Uncle Yod's bar, the filming location for the music videos Just Friend? and Our Song, and Pran's street address in Singapore).

Will update this list if I can track down the hardware stores – the one remaining location still unidentified! 🤣]

[theluckywizard]

DADWC prompt:

As requested 😁 For Hawke/An'da “it’s not my fault you’re so comfortable to lay on!”

Woohooo my first OC OC nonsense piece! @dadrunkwriting

Here we have an injured Garrett Hawke staggering to Darktown to Anders' Clinic where An'da is working as a healer. First he's suffering from blood loss and later is under the influence of a sedative as An'da works on him. Shenanigans all around!

WC: 2399

CW: Blood and stab wound

Rating: Teen

Hawke can feel his pulse in the wound made by three maybe four inches of dirty steel. It had been a boy, eleven at most, though it’s hard to tell with the malnourished. He sheathed the little blade in his side, his saucers of fear for eyes catching Hawke’s before dashing away and merging with the crawl of people in Lowtown. A message from the Coterie. Or the Carta maybe.

Hawke staggers down to darktown clutching his side, brushing aside the fuzz that enters his mind at the edges as he parses through the possible takeaways. The message.

First, one should never be lazy about armor in Lowtown. It may be home, but even the kids will cut you for a couple silvers.

Second, cutting into the profits of either group of malodorous ne’er-do-wells is asking for it. 

Third— well, there might be a third but his thoughts meander, a little bit like the crowd around him, anyone who notices the deep crimson wicking widely in his tunic stumbling back, recoiling from the preamble to death like it isn’t a daily fixture in this cursed swathe of Kirkwall.

He knows the route well enough to stagger there in this state, his mind swimming like there’s a half a bottle of Corff’s potato grog inside of him. He stumbles his way into the alleys that sink low under the city, into the stagnant air of Darktown, smearing his very essence on the tuff walls. Nonsensically impertinent thoughts invaded his mind as he bled his way to Anders’ clinic. The one who carved this tuff passage so long ago. Did they imagine the way it would smell dozens of ages hence? Did they secretly enjoy the break from the insolence of Kirkwall’s sun or did the humidity kicking up from the bay make them more miserable under the surface?

Darktown opens up to the harbor and the scent of mildew and human waste gives way to stagnant aromas of decaying seaweed and sloshing mystery flotsam. He’s close, he can tell by his nose, but his senses are getting rather unreliable and he’s beginning to think this is all some manner of mild inconvenience, something he could probably patch up himself given the right instruments and materials.

A healing draught to perk him up perhaps. Clean linen. Corff’s potato grog. A bent needle and some waxed thread.

He shoulders his way through the flimsy door to the clinic, a few workers startling to attention as he staggers into the space like a wayward drunk. He raises a hand, a little meekly and tries a few casual looking poses before leaning against a support timber, summoning his best winning grin.

“I— uh— heard I could get some supplies here. For minor lacerations and the like. I’ll be no trouble— just— ask Anders. Patch up my own stuff all the time,” he says, his head lolling to one side slightly before he rights it. He lifts his unfastened doublet from his tunic and stares at the blooming bloodstain laughing, the jerking of his diaphragm sending fresh surges of deep red through the fabric. He looks up and scans the room for what he needs, ignoring the baffled, questioning looks of the clinic workers. “Ah— there they are!” Hawke makes for a table laid with instruments beside a wooden operating table with a bloody trough down the center that makes him recoil slightly.

He’d rather not lie on one of those death slabs. He’ll patch himself up good as new, troubling no one.

“Hawke, is it?” come a lyrical voice, floating in pleasantly like it might be a dream as he picks up a needle that looks the right shape and a wad of clean cloth. He answers without looking up. “I’ve— seen you here before. Usually moments before Anders vanishes on some harrowing adventure.”

“I don’t know why he insists on tagging along, but I certainly can’t complain,” mumbles Hawke, collecting a handful. “The man could reattach a severed head in a pinch.”

“That’s a fair bit of blood, Serah Hawke,” she says gently, her hand creeping in to cover the hand he’s loaded with the needed supplies. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather let me have a look?”

“No, no— I couldn’t— possibly inconvenience you. You’re all so busy— and this is just a—“ he looks down again, the blood having spread into his trousers. “Flesh wound,” he breathes in a faint falsetto.

“Easy there, da’len. Easy…” she says softly. Hawke turns to see her, his vision growing fuzzy around the edges. Rosy cheeks, a delicately branching vallaslin and serpentstone eyes meet him. Hawke blinks languidly, admiring her shock of ashen white hair managed in tidy plaits and the elegant length of her elven ears. Lovely, he thinks as his head nods. Really lovely. She motions for assistance but it’s not soon enough.

Hawke lists, his consciousness dissolving into jelly as assuredly as his legs and he slowly pitches forward. The worker slips between him and the bench, pushing on his chest, desperately trying to hold him up to organize him around her shoulders in the most stable position but instead she melts under his floppy, hulking mass until they’re a heap on the floor.

“Looks like you’ve got quite a wound there, big fella,” she squeaks under his mass. But Hawke finds this position irresistible, his wits, his failing body melting into her. Into the ground.

“Actually this— is— really, rather comfortable. Perhaps I’ll just— stay— here.”

“Creators,” she mutters. “A little assistance please?” Her voice is the adorable squeak of a pantry mouse, he thinks, neverminding that the octave is at least in part because of squashing her languidly. He waves off those who come for him, his arms thrashing lightly wanting to keep the sweet little pillow beneath him. Perhaps she might just keep talking until he’s slipped into this delicious nap that’s calling him.

But hands circle each ankle and then his arms by his shoulders and he’s first gently lifted off the small woman and then arms find their way under his chest and hips and he’s heaved onto the death slab he’d dreaded, his mind practically circling the drain.

Emerald eyes hover over him solicitously, and it’s nearly all he can focus on, two little jewels suspended under a cloud and that voice.

oOo

Hawke comes to, at least partially anyway, because there’s a mushiness to it all that he finds unbelievably pleasant, the sharp edges of full awareness beyond his grasp still. Figures mill about him and he can’t tell if they’re there for him or someone else, but they might as well be there for him.

“Didja fixmeup?” he asks the first face to venture into his line of sight, his words dribbling out like molasses spilling off a spoon. But he’s smiling at least and the world feels as light as spun sugar and he can’t keep the rapture inside.

Green eyes peer over him, lifting up the hem of his tunic to check his wound.

“You.”

“An’da,” she corrects him, smiling, and he’s too hopped up on sedative herbs to catch the amusement behind her expression.

“Annnnn’daaaaa. Annnnderrrssss. You two planned it this way, din’tyou?” Hawke laughs to himself, his grin wide and languorous, practically spilling off his face. An’da is unmoved by his tumbling words, having heard it all before.

“A little longer and you would have been taking tea with Falon’Din,” she notes. She presses gently around the side of his abdomen.

“Owwwww,” he says flatly, his head falling back, hair spilling away from his face.

“You’ll need to take it easy for at least a week, da’len,” she says, ducking down to take a closer look. “But I’m guessing you’ll be testing your limits tomorrow.”

“If I ripmy sitches can I come back?” he slurs dreamily.

“You’re going to stay in bed like the darling man that you are so that you are good as new,” she says, reaching over him for a pot of salve that she dabs on the tidy stitches above his hipbone.

“But I wanna come back,” he says, his expression dulcet with sedative fueled-longing. “I would have died. You’re— you’re the bess.”

“I’ll add you to my collection of partially sedated beaus, sweet thing,” she smiles, two little rosy balls of warmth in her cheeks that Hawke thinks must have been pinched by the Maker himself. He reaches to touch one but his hand bobs heavily and he giggles at it as it lolls sideways away from its intended destination.

“But they don’t love you like I do,” he mutters to her with glazed eyes, his grin rather dashing for someone dashed out of his mind on a tincture of black lotus and ghoul’s beard.

“You’re right, da’len. Nobody’s ever loved me like you,” she replies sweetly. She slides along the bed and leans over to pat his cheek gently, and it would wipe his wits clean away if he had any to begin with. Anders sidles up alongside her, his hands on his hips, eyebrows arched high as he regards Hawke pityingly. Hawke lets his eyes slip closed.

“Anders,” he intones softly, as high as his name implies. “You have the mose beautful sister.”

“I know,” Anders replies gamely, giving An’da a quick squeeze around her shoulders. “I greatly look forward to your wedding.” If Hawke was more lucid he might notice the roll of An’da’s eyes in Anders’ direction or the way she elbows him lightly. He might notice the hushed conversation they have about the likelihood that he’ll tear his stitches back open unless he’s under strict bed rest. 

“Hawke, have you been a difficult patient?”

“I’ve been a perfeck gennleman.”

“That’s a separate question. An’da here kept you from bleeding out and I think we’d all like to see you live to fight another day. But if you’re going to ignore our recommendations and bash about Lowtown looking for the people responsible…”

“Gotta find the little sprog and have a word,” he says. “Probly hungry”

“I’ll pay you a home visit if you agree to stay in bed,” she offers. “Someone will have to come check to make sure you behave.”

“Never been one t’behave,” Hawke sighs. “Bud I’d be good for you.”

“Shocking no one,” says Anders. “If he gets fresh, hit him with another dose of sedative. Or just— hit him.”

“I could never hit such a puppy,” says An’da, giving his big hand an affectionate pat. Even miles from his right mind, Hawke musters a smug grin for his favorite battle medic.

“Maker, don’t encourage him. He’ll never leave you alone,” pokes Anders. “The wound looks good, another dose of healing and we can give him the antidote for the sedative.”

“You really don’t though,” muddles Hawke. “I could juss. Stay like this. Here. With Annnn’daaaa.”

“I don’t think so. I’ve seen the way you live,” quips Anders. “Can’t have my clinic looking like that.”

An’da drags a small stool alongside the clinic bed so she can reach the wound with her hands which he finds to be unbearably darling, abundant as he is in stature. She leans forward and places both hands over the wound, her Elvish words bouncing like a pebble across placid waters as she summons her mana and pushes the blue luminescence deep into his abdomen.

“Maker, you’re wonderful,” he sighs at the ceiling.

“I— um.  As much as I’ve enjoyed your sweet nothings,” she begins, wandering over to a bench of bottles and mixtures and mortars and pestles, “It’s time to set your mind to rights.” She arrives with a precious vial of liquid and kicking her stool over a few feet, climbs atop to lift his head and press the vial to his lips.

“Drink up,” she encourages him. “That’s right, da’len.” Hawke submits to her instructions like her very nearness enchants him, his eyes filled with stars as he blinks at her blushing cheeks and kind eyes.

The antidote for the sedative works quickly, replacing the haze with a headache that outstrips the worst of his hangovers. 

“Andraste’s smoldering arse,” he groans, clutching at his entire face like it might banish the pulsating behind his eyes if he claws at it enough. At least the wound seems to be behaving in this regard.

“Sorry,” she squeaks and his attention alights again on the sweet pantry mouse. He squeezes his eyes shut, nodding as he recollects his antics.

“I— believe I owe you an apology. Or at the very least a drink at the Hanged Man,” he says, in a shameless pivot.

“Careful, An’da or he’ll add you to his collection of beguiled healers,” says Anders, returning. He gives Hawke a clinical look and checks the stitches closely. “Pain on a scale of one to ten?”

“Stab wound? Two. Head? Eight.”

“I— um— I think I could be talked into a visit to the tavern,” she says softly, sheepishly, her chin tucked low like his gaze is some manner of threat. Anders just shakes his head, his grin wide and knowing. “But— only after you’re healed up fully.”

“Lovely! Maker knows if Corff’s special mead is ready there’s a solid chance I’ll need a comfortable pillow on the tavern floor. You’ll do nicely.”

“Oh— I—“ she fumbles, her entire face blazing, but she seems to catch on. “That was a joke, wasn’t it?”

“Have you and Merrill been trading notes?” Hawke asks and then calls after Anders. “Have they been trading notes?” He turns back to her again, fixing one of his usual brazen looks upon her. “It was a joke. Unless you’re secretly a pillow after all. In which case it very much wasn’t.”

“I— um— I’ll—just be over there,“ she stammers and blushes and stammers some more and Hawke thinks she looks as beautiful as a Fereldan sunrise. She turns and hurries away and Hawke mulls over another chance he’s dashed with his cursed trap flapping and misguided flirting.

“Hawke,” says Anders, “you always do this to my staff. I’m going to have to hang a picture of you on the wall with appropriate warnings. Yes he will profess his love to you under sedation. Yes he will attempt to enchant you with a sky blue smolder. *Do not engage*.”

“Please do,” replies Hawke. “And make me a copy. I’ll give it to Varric to hang on his wall.”

[spacewreck51]

"– that stinks of hate and wafts to him with promise of the fast approaching corpse that bears his face and holds within its chest the promise of his own annihilation carved in gouges deep and ragged cutting clean through bone that cracked to splintered powder cast of empty blackened earth that is his home again but something’s wrong with what he see upon the door is written not his name but words that mean no more to him than jumbled symbols twisting in the edges of his sight that tries to focus on the emptiness around him but the mist that curls its bitter weeping ache around his legs that bristle up with shivered goose flesh stained with red that’s not his blood whose blood he bled but this is not from him and yet he knows he loved this blood when once it beat within a heart that joined to his through choice or circumstance but now it stains his weeping edges scarlet gloating now of all the butchered ugly fates that might already have befallen what you still might boast he loves at hands that might be moved by others or that might just now be his what have you done what have you done what have you done what have you done why do you hear upon the gloating wind the screaming of his name as now he begs him please to stop the razor slicing through that flesh but there is nothing he can do from here upon the threshold to a house she almost knows to be a home but empty hollow and devoid of all the trappings that could once have given comfort to the pale and weeping shadow of her life that has been left devoid and faded at the corners like a photograph whose sepia-tinted warmth has drained to just a crowd of faceless staring strangers among whom once she stood to feel safe as houses no-one dares to enter anymore in case they trip upon the moldy corpse of memories that once gave hope and now provide her nothing but a smile upon the face of something grinning at her sharply and with teeth like rows of hungry needles desperate still to stick through skin like cloth into a tapestry of suffering that billows in the wind and gusts like sails upon a wide and pitch black sea with no horizon in the distance calling one and all towards it with a pull that makes her stomach drop to know she can’t resist the waves that lap and drag her over and across the surface still as cracked obsidian but deeper that the world could ever dream as something wakes and shifts below they grab the wheel and cry in panic at their howling crew to ready for a harrowed doomed escape from what begins to rise below them as they look down to see the pitch black void of ocean getting darker still as something rises up that dwarfs the sky and yet they know it is the smallest tip of only one appendage reaching up splitting timber splitting steel splitting friends all into shapes and forms and spatters that don’t register as human even as the inky frozen sea pulls air out of their lungs because it is so cold it is so cold it is so coldly sneering as sticky strands pull taut against the flailing struggles as they try to pull away from what approaches in the distant edge of this colossal latticework of bone and sickly paste that twists and curls with each vibration of those fools like them now caught and wrapped and flailing in their heaving desperation not to see it looming over them with glassy eyes and fangs that drip with poison and the promise of the slow and steady agony of feeling all that was herself dissolved and broken down into the bitter pleading-"

IM SORRY

WHAT?

[theblackbookofarkera]

Rykier

On the edge of the primordial Haldergul Forest the city of Rykier is one of the largest in the Holy Vantari Empire. The city is as grim as the forest it looms over and though it looks quite safe it appears as equally uninviting. Shrouded in steel gray clouds, a bright sunny day in Rykier is as foreign as a rainstorm in the deserts of Alqara. Rykier thrives on the timber and fur trade along with several active copper mines worked exclusively by prisoners of war.

Though the great majority of the populace are pious followers of the Urutin faith heretical cults thrive amongst the debased underclass. Most are harmless and ignored by authorities despite it their duty to prosecute apostasy wherever it breeds. Two particular cults have grown powerful in the city and despite the fervent efforts of inquisitorial forces continue to thrive in the ghettos of Rykier. Led by blood mages claiming to have transmogrified themselves into vampires and werewolves the Endless Children and Reborn Pack have waged a bloody war against one another for decades. Hundreds of civilians have died in the war between the two violent cults despite the violent efforts of the empire’s finest witch hunters.

[santiagomenagerie]

Story: Appeasing a Goddess

Word count: 4900 words Characters: Cpt Santiago, Megara, Eris Tags: Threesome, vaginal sex, oral sex, anal sex, cum play, coercion, supernatural clothes removal, and more!

Teaser: Eris tracks down the Menagerie on behalf of Hades, with the goal of returning Meg to him. She'll let them go though if they can pass her test. Character art by: KiraSs3

“Any progress?” Captain Santiago asked, stepping into the light of the full moon. Or what little of it made it through the fog anyway. Becalming wasn’t something that happened to the Menagerie, not with a Wayfinder, a Voodoo Witch, and a Siren aboard. Yet here they were, sitting in a fog bank, sails slack and water sheet smooth beneath their hull. And there was something strange about this fog. It was heavy, and almost eerily quiet. Even the lazy lapping of the ocean against the hull seemed muffled. “Nothing.” Megara shivered a little in the unnatural cold. “Tiana and Moana have both tried to move the ship. Something resisted them. Ariel is taking a look beneath us now to see if we’re caught in anything, hopefully she’ll figure it out.” “If she doesn’t we’ll-” “Sails!” The lookout’s shout interrupted Santiago’s response. Captain and quartermaster looked towards the crow's nest. Kida leaned over the edge, pointing. “Ship incoming! They’re almost on us!” Even as she said it, a massive shape loomed suddenly out of the fog, barreling towards them with astounding speed. Despite the lack of wind, the air was cut by the sharp snapping of sails and the heavy creaking of timber. After the quiet of the fog, the sudden sound was intimidating, pulling an instinctual reaction to flee from it. Santiago’s eyes widened. They were under attack! “Battle stations! Prepare to repel boa-” He hadn’t finished the order before the attacking ship slammed alongside his, rocking both vessels. His crew weren’t novices, and even as ropes flew across and boarding planks slammed down, they were springing to their defensive positions. The invaders surged across, bodies almost seeming to glow in the moonlit fog. His crew met them with magic, steel and shot. Their defense was determined, skilled, and valiant. It was overwhelmed in moments.  Captain Santiago struggled against the arms of the bulky man holding him. He’d have had better luck bending iron. His captor held him in place as the other ship’s captain made their way over from the other ship. Mist roiled around the figure, cloaking much of their body until they were right in front of him. With the final few steps, the mist receded, splitting like a curtain, revealing the slender form of a woman. Her pale skin was almost the same color as the fog, and she wore a maroon dress that clung so closely to her lithe body it might as well have been a second skin. Despite the combat moments before, she carried no weapons. Most unsettlingly, her long midnight hair floated out behind her, shifting and swaying almost as if she was underwater. She looked him up and down, full lips spreading in a supremely self-satisfied smile. “Captain Santiago, I presume. I’ll be honest, I’d expected capturing your ship to be more of a challenge.” “You have me at a disadvantage, madam.” He tried to hide the trepidation in his voice. “You know my name, but I don’t know yours.” She laughed. “Of course I know your name, Captain. Many in my circles have heard of the Menagerie, its daring captain, and its’,” her eyes roamed across the deck, taking in each restrained or subdued member of his crew, “eclectic crew. You’re rather famous, Captain.” She trailed fingers down his chest, teasing the neck of his loose shirt wider. “As for my name. Why don’t you ask your quartermaster, I rather wonder if she remembers me. We met so long ago after all.” Meg stiffened. “Eris…” Read the rest here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42813870/chapters/107672646

[restumpingunderpinning]

Quality You Can Trust with Elite Restumping & Underpinning

The foundation of your home is the bedrock of its safety and stability, and ensuring it remains strong is essential to protecting your investment. Over time, Melbourne homes, particularly older ones, can experience structural issues due to shifting soil, rotting stumps, or natural wear and tear. That’s where Elite Restumping & Underpinning, Melbourne’s trusted restumping experts, come in to ensure your home remains safe and secure.

What is Restumping and Why is it Necessary?

Restumping, also known as reblocking, involves replacing the stumps that support a home. Many homes in Melbourne were originally built on timber stumps, which over time can deteriorate, sink, or rot due to moisture and the natural movement of the earth. Restumping replaces these old stumps with more durable materials such as concrete or galvanized steel, providing long-term stability for your home.

If left unaddressed, unstable stumps can lead to:

Uneven Floors: Sagging or sloping floors are often the first sign that your stumps need attention.

Cracked Walls: Visible cracks in the interior or exterior walls can indicate that the foundation is shifting.

Doors and Windows That Stick: If doors or windows start to stick, it may be a sign of foundation movement caused by failing stumps.

Moisture Issues: Old wooden stumps are prone to rotting, especially in areas with poor drainage or damp conditions.

How Elite Restumping & Underpinning Can Help

At Elite Restumping & Underpinning, we specialize in providing high-quality restumping services to homeowners throughout Melbourne. Our experienced team uses only the best materials and cutting-edge techniques to ensure your home’s foundation remains stable and secure for years to come. Here’s how we stand out:

1. Expertise You Can Count On

With years of experience in the industry, our team has handled a wide range of restumping projects, from older Victorian-style homes to modern dwellings. We understand the unique soil conditions and challenges that Melbourne homeowners face, allowing us to provide tailored solutions that meet the specific needs of your property.

2. Quality Materials for Long-Term Stability

We believe in using only the highest quality materials to ensure the longevity of your home’s foundation. We offer stumps made of concrete and galvanized steel, which are far more durable and resistant to environmental factors compared to traditional wooden stumps. This means your home will stay safe and stable for decades to come.

3. Comprehensive Restumping Services

Whether you need a full restumping job or minor adjustments to a few stumps, we’ve got you covered. Our services include thorough inspections, clear and detailed quotes, and professional workmanship to ensure that every project is completed to the highest standard.

4. Affordable and Transparent Pricing

Restumping is a major investment in your home’s safety, but it doesn’t have to break the bank. At Elite Restumping & Underpinning, we offer competitive pricing with no hidden fees, ensuring that you get excellent value for your money. Our transparent quotes make it easy to understand what’s involved, so you know exactly what to expect.

5. Customer-Focused Approach

Our goal is to ensure that every client is fully satisfied with our services. We work closely with homeowners throughout the restumping process, keeping them informed at every stage and ensuring that the job is completed with minimal disruption to daily life. Your peace of mind is our priority.

When Should You Consider Restumping?

It’s important to address foundation issues as early as possible to avoid further damage to your home. But how do you know when it’s time to call Melbourne’s restumping experts? Here are some key signs:

Sloping or Bouncy Floors: If your floors feel uneven or bouncy when you walk across them, it’s a clear sign that your stumps may be failing.

Cracks in Walls or Ceilings: Cracks, especially those that appear suddenly or widen over time, can indicate serious foundation issues.

Doors or Windows That Stick: Difficulty opening and closing doors or windows is often a result of foundation movement caused by sinking stumps.

Visible Damage to Stumps: If you can see signs of damage, rotting, or shifting in the stumps under your home, it’s time to call a professional for an inspection.

The Restumping Process with Elite Restumping & Underpinning

At Elite Restumping & Underpinning, we follow a tried-and-tested process to ensure the safety and stability of your home’s foundation:

Inspection: We begin by conducting a thorough inspection of your home’s existing stumps to assess their condition and identify any issues.

Customized Solution: Based on our findings, we provide a detailed plan for the restumping process, including the type and number of stumps needed for your home.

Preparation and Lifting: Our team carefully lifts sections of the house to access the old stumps and prepare for their removal.

Stump Replacement: The old stumps are removed and replaced with new, durable concrete or galvanized steel stumps.

Re-leveling: Once the new stumps are in place, we re-level the house to ensure that the floors and structure are perfectly aligned.

Final Inspection: After the work is completed, we conduct a final inspection to ensure that everything meets our high standards and your home is safe and secure.

Benefits of Restumping

Restumping your home with Elite Restumping & Underpinning offers several key benefits:

Increased Stability: Replacing old or damaged stumps improves the structural stability of your home, preventing future issues caused by foundation movement.

Enhanced Comfort: By leveling uneven floors and fixing cracks, restumping can improve the comfort and aesthetic appeal of your home.

Protection Against Future Damage: New concrete or steel stumps are much more durable and resistant to moisture and shifting soil, providing long-term protection.

Boosted Property Value: A stable foundation increases the value of your home, making it more attractive to potential buyers should you decide to sell.

Trust Melbourne’s Restumping Experts

When it comes to the safety and longevity of your home, trust Melbourne’s restumping experts at Elite Restumping & Underpinning. Our team is dedicated to providing high-quality, reliable services that keep your home secure for years to come. Don’t wait until foundation issues become major problems—contact us today to schedule an inspection and protect your home’s foundation.

[ezwindows1]

The Versatility and Functionality of Architectural Blades: A Modern Design Solution

What Are Architectural Blades?

Architectural blades are slender, horizontal or vertical slats installed on the exterior or interior of buildings. Typically made from materials like aluminum, steel, or timber, they can be customized in terms of size, shape, and finish to fit various architectural styles. These blades are often used as external sunshades, privacy screens, or design elements to break up the visual monotony of large surfaces. In many cases, they provide a blend of modern aesthetics and functionality, creating a dynamic look that enhances the building's facade.

Benefits of Architectural Blades

Enhanced Energy Efficiency

One of the most significant advantages of architectural blades is their ability to improve a building's energy efficiency. When used as external shading devices, architectural mouldings blades can significantly reduce the amount of solar heat that enters a building. By blocking direct sunlight while allowing natural light to filter through, architectural blades help in maintaining a cooler indoor environment during hot weather. This reduces the need for air conditioning, leading to lower energy consumption and, ultimately, reduced utility costs. In colder climates, they can also be angled to allow more sunlight in, assisting with passive heating.

Improved Aesthetic Appeal

Architectural blades are not just about function – they are a design element that can enhance the overall look of a building. Whether used as sunshades, privacy screens, or accent elements, blades add texture and dimension to the structure. The clean lines and modern look of these features give buildings a contemporary edge, making them stand out in the urban landscape. With a wide variety of colors, finishes, and configurations available, architects and designers can create a unique aesthetic tailored to the specific requirements of each project.

Increased Privacy and Security

For buildings located in densely populated areas or in close proximity to neighbors, privacy can be a significant concern. Architectural blades offer an excellent solution by providing a visual barrier without completely blocking the view. By strategically placing these blades, architects can ensure that occupants enjoy the right balance of privacy and openness. Moreover, in certain applications, architectural blades can also serve as a form of security, acting as a physical barrier to prevent unauthorized access to windows or balconies.

Durability and Low Maintenance

Architectural blades, particularly those made from materials like aluminum or steel, are highly durable and require minimal maintenance. They are resistant to corrosion, weathering, and wear, making them a long-lasting addition to any building. Even in harsh environmental conditions, such as high humidity or exposure to salt air, architectural blades retain their appearance and functionality with minimal upkeep. This durability translates into lower long-term maintenance costs and less frequent replacements.

Sustainable and Eco-Friendly Option

Architectural blades are often fabricated using recyclable materials, such as aluminum, making them an eco-friendly choice for green building projects. Their ability to reduce energy consumption further enhances their sustainability credentials. By optimizing natural light and temperature control, architectural blades contribute to lowering a building’s carbon footprint. For developers focused on eco-friendly construction, this makes them an ideal choice for meeting sustainability goals and certifications like LEED (Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design).

Popular Applications of Architectural Blades

The versatility of architectural blades means they can be used in a variety of applications across different types of buildings:

Sunshades: By reducing glare and controlling heat gain, architectural blades are widely used as sunshades in office buildings, schools, and hospitals.

Façade Accents: To break up large, flat surfaces and add interest to a building's exterior, blades are often incorporated as accents in modern architectural designs.

Privacy Screens: Residential properties use architectural blades to create secluded outdoor spaces, such as balconies, terraces, or patios.

Ventilation Screens: In industrial or commercial buildings, architectural blades can be used to conceal mechanical equipment while allowing for proper air circulation.

[jamesaallen]

Tips for Choosing the Right Yacht

Motivations to acquire a yacht range from luxury and privacy to adventure and watersports. However, first-time buyers often face a daunting market due to the broad options available and the risk of being misled by self-interested sellers, designers, or advisors. Several factors warrant consideration to ensure a sound and appropriate investment.

Primarily, buyers should align their yacht purchase with specific needs. The market offers two main categories: wind-powered sailing yachts, known for their quieter rides, and engine-driven motor yachts, valued for their speed. The main body configurations (hull) further diversify yacht options. Monohulls have a single main body and longitudinal narrow structure underneath them (keel). Catamarans have two parallel hulls, while trimarans feature three hulls.

Hull material selection significantly impacts the yacht’s durability, maintenance requirements, and insurance eligibility. Hull material options include traditional timber, modern composites like fiberglass and carbon fiber, and metals such as aluminum and steel. Each material has distinct advantages based on the intended use and operational environment.

Keel design, crucial for stability and performance, is another vital consideration. Keels counterbalance the wind and waves to prevent the yacht from capsizing. In selecting a keel - full/long fin, deep fin, or retractable, the focus should be on comfort, acceleration, sailing conditions, and intended activities.

Buyers should also obviously consider the yacht’s size, balancing desires with practicality. While larger vessels offer expanded amenities and comfort, they demand substantial operational and maintenance resources. Key considerations include intended passenger capacity, desired comfort level, and long-term operational costs. Test sails provide insights into these aspects and help determine the most suitable configurations.

Yacht size also comes with some trade-offs. Smaller yachts are less expensive to purchase and maintain and easier to manage but offer limited onboard space and amenities. In contrast, larger yachts provide more space, have built-in amenities such as water and fuel tanks, and are ideal for prolonged sea time. However, they are costlier to buy and maintain and may be challenging to operate without professional help.

The yacht market caters to diverse budgets through new and pre-owned options. Though at a premium price, new yachts feature the latest technology, modern amenities, cutting-edge design, and customization possibilities. Pre-owned vessels offer a more accessible entry point into yacht ownership but potentially require additional investment in maintenance or upgrades, depending on the vessel’s age and condition.

While some purchase yachts for luxury, aesthetics alone should not be the only deciding factor. Practical considerations should take precedence, with buyers weighing aspects like functionality, fuel efficiency, and resale value. Weather resilience and long-term durability are equally crucial. Opting for vessels from established and well-known designers can help buyers balance form and function.

Operational simplicity is also paramount, especially for those new to yachting. Modern yachts featuring innovative and intuitive interfaces like touchscreen displays and maneuvering technologies can ease navigation and shorten the learning curve. A yacht that is simple to operate also benefits those who occasionally delegate captaining duties. Additionally, easy accessibility to the engine and systems, e.g., starter motors, alternators, and transmissions, is also essential for performing quick maintenance tasks such as oil changes.

Safety is another top consideration. Buyers should assess how easily a single person can sail the yacht in both normal situations and emergencies, the level of protection provided by the cockpit, the adequacy of handrails for stability, and the strength of stanchions (vertical posts supporting lifelines that prevent a person from falling overboard). Ample storage for emergency equipment like life rafts and the availability of both automatic and manual systems for pumping water out of the bilge (the lowest part of the yacht) are critical to reduce the risk of sinking.

[nerdybookwormdetective]

Deciding On The Right Structural Installation Service In British Columbia: Top Factors

When starting a construction project in British Columbia, selecting the correct structural setup service may make all the distinction. From business to commercial applications, locating a structural installation bids BC that meets your particular demands is actually crucial for an effective develop. Listed here's what you should look at when choosing a structural installation companion in BC.

Understanding Your Job's Requirements

Before you start exploring for architectural setup services in British Columbia, it is very important to have a clear understanding of your job's requirements. Are you servicing a skyscraper structure in Vancouver, or is it a more customized industrial resource in Kelowna? Identifying the kind of installation you need to have-- whether it is actually structural steel installation BC, mass hardwood installation British Columbia, or stone cement Kelowna-- will assist you to the appropriate professionals.

For instance, if your task entails complex industrial development lifting in Vancouver, you'll require a glulam and clt installation British Columbia along with experience in dealing with such high-demand duties. On the contrary, if it includes weak center concrete Vancouver or decorative metallics installation Kelowna, the expertise required will certainly contrast. Make certain that the specialist you decide on can fulfill the details necessities of your project.

Examining Skills and Experience

The skills of a commercial construction hoisting Vancouver can dramatically affect your job's result. Appear for companies with an effective monitor document in your certain place of building. For example, if you need to have steel design professionals Kelowna for an industrial create, locate a service along with considerable experience in this particular industry. Likewise, if you have an interest in q-decking solutions Vancouver or even effective property platform British Columbia, verify that the provider possesses appropriate experience and can illustrate effective past jobs.

Experience is certainly not practically the amount of years a company has been actually in business, yet likewise regarding their capacity to manage various complications. A provider concentrating on business building and construction specialists BC are going to be more savvy at handling large tasks reviewed to those centering entirely on household shapes.

Analyzing Safety And Security and Compliance

Safety and security is actually important in any kind of development task. Select a service that focuses on protection and adheres to local guidelines. As an example, if you are actually looking for beam and truss installation services Kelowna or top quality NLT timber setup Vancouver, make sure the provider adheres to strict security protocols. A trusted building installation service will certainly be actually fluent properly criteria and governing observance, minimizing the threat of pricey hold-ups or mishaps.

Try to find firms that possess a credibility for safety-focused techniques and are straightforward about their security operations. If a company takes quick ways or appears unclear about their security, it is actually a warning.

Examining Price and Worth

Expense is actually constantly a significant element, but it should not be the only point to consider. When matching up structural setup quotes BC, weigh the expense against the value supplied. The most cost effective alternative could conserve money upfront however could possibly cause problems later on. Search for services that deliver a balance of cost-effectiveness and quality.

Think about the long-term advantages of purchasing a credible business. As an example, if you go for Surrey building steel services or metal covering services Vancouver, buying top notch work can easily enhance the durability and looks of your building. Economical work may cut edges, causing even more recurring repair work or even lesser performance in time.

Inevitably, the goal is actually to locate a development project relationship Vancouver that straightens with your finances while delivering top quality end results.

Verdict

Opting for the correct structural setup service in British Columbia includes cautious factor to consider of your job's necessities, the specialist's experience, safety and observance standards, and the total worth provided. Whether you're handling with office building hoisting Vancouver, commercial crane job Kelowna, or even some other specific necessities, putting in the time to create an updated decision will repay in the future.

Remember, a sound foundation begins along with a trustworthy companion. So, analyze your possibilities completely, and you'll locate a service that certainly not only complies with however surpasses your desires, ensuring your task stands tough for several years to find.

Lynx Specialty Services LTD

Benvoulin Road Kelowna, BC V1W 4M7

Phone: (250) 870-3580