#headtorch

[cyanskyflashlight]

A 1400-lumen triple output TYPE-C rechargeable headlamp CYANSKY HS6R. Separately-controlled dual switches for 2 modes - main light (white spotlight) + auxiliary lights (white floodlight and red light). 2 modes can work at the same time. With multiple light modes designed, it meets your lighting needs on various occasions.

[future-circuit]

I'm so normal about them

[wildterrain]

Petzl XENA Headtorch 1400 Lumens

Η Σημασία του Καλού Φωτισμού στους Χώρους Εργασίας και η Ιδανική Επιλογή: Petzl XENA Headtorch 1400 Lumens Πρόλογος Ο φωτισμός είναι ένας από τους σημαντικότερους παράγοντες που επηρεάζουν την αποδοτικότητα, την ασφάλεια και την άνεση στους χώρους εργασίας. Σε επαγγελματικά περιβάλλοντα όπου η ακρίβεια και η ορατότητα είναι κρίσιμες – όπως οι κατασκευαστικές εργασίες, η βιομηχανία, οι…

[royal-chandler]

temporary/maybe permanent title is winter interlude. written for the lovely @caressthosecheekbones ✨

--

Henry is certain that he's only just fallen asleep when he’s nudged awake, Alex’s soft scratched voice at his ear and his hand giving Henry’s wrist a slight squeeze. Henry’s answer to his name is a long groan. 

“Hen, baby. Can you wake up for me?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Please?”

Henry groans once more and burrows further into the pocket of warmth that’s been conjured from sleep, their thick cloud-like duvet, and Alex’s arms. He keeps his eyes shut and silently, drowsily wishes for Alex to concede. And of course, no such luck.

“I’ve got an amazing idea.”

“That for some ungodly reason can’t wait until morning?”

“It’s uh,” Henry feels Alex slightly shift away, imagines that he’s checking the nocturne glow of their bedside clock, “one thirty-six right now so technically...”

“Don’t even bother finishing that sentence.”

“Come on,” Alex draws out. He shakes Henry some more, as if he can transfuse enthusiasm through vibration or using Henry like a ketchup bottle that’s been sitting too long. “Come on, we’re losing starlight. Let’s get a move on.”

“Christ, Alex, what for?”

“It’s stopped snowing. We should go sledding.”

Henry snorts, incredulous in the quiet. “Fuck off.”

Clearly Alex has gone bonkers because there is no way on earth that Henry is dragging himself out of bed to charge down a hill of snow on a plastic death trap in freezing temperatures in the middle of the night. 

*

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Henry says, trudging through snow that’s at least twenty five centimetres deep at the rear of the White House. 

At Henry’s side and tugging him and his sledge the last bit to the crest of the hill, Alex says, “It'll be fun.”

“Ah, yes.” Henry nods. Editorialised with bone-dry sarcasm, he continues, “Whenever I think about fun, frostbite is the first thing that springs to mind.”

“It is nowhere near cold enough for that.” Alex brings up their joined hands. “Plus, you’ve got your little cute gloves on. You’re good.” 

The Aztec patterned gloves are secondhand from Alex, dug out of a closet cubby as he had pointedly made sure to mention that they were a gift from his abuela when he was thirteen and no longer fit. 

Alex had also emphasised that Henry didn’t need to give them back. That it was a transfer of ownership. And they are very nice, the fingerless sort that convert into mittens. The yarn stretches comfortably and the pouches slip over Henry’s fingers just right. 

“Everything will be fine,” Alex promises. He reaches out and clicks on Henry’s headtorch. His already lit grin is brilliantly illuminated. “Trust me.” 

“There’s no question of that,” Henry returns. “I only ask why this couldn’t wait for the daytime? You know, how it’s normally done.”

Alex simply shrugs, his grin gentling into something flagrantly affectionate. “Because right now it's like the world is just us.”

And fuck, what is Henry supposed to argue against that?

*

“How are you winning?!” Alex drags his sledge behind him with one hand and wildly gestures with the other. “You didn’t even want to do this. I did not plan on you winning.”

Above him and at the top of the hill already, Henry props an elbow on his now vertical vehicle that’s planted in the snow, watching Alex with amusement. His boyfriend is exceptionally precious when he pouts. “My being reluctant to sledging doesn’t mean I’m not skilled at it.”

“Best of seven,” Alex huffs upon arrival. 

“You have a problem. The terms were already agreed upon.”

“You scared?” 

Alex then proceeds to emit the noises of a fowl.

“Resorting to primary school tactics, are we?”

Alex only lifts his brow, his expression dancing with challenge.

“I'm going to need some proper motivation, darling,” Henry says, sliding on a smirk.

“I could be a victim of clichés and offer mind-melting sex if you win but you get that all the time anyway.”

Henry breaks into helpless laughter and agrees when he finds the cold air to do so. 

“So, instead, how about the next time I’m at the palace I take you up on those horseback lessons finally,” Alex says. 

“Truly? You’ve always seemed—uncomfortable around them.”

“Well they are huge, intelligent beasts that can buck me off and launch me god knows how many miles an hour into the air.”

“Dramatic." He pauses, shaking his head. "Really, Alex. You don’t have to.”

“You love it and it’s something we can do together. I’d like to try it out,” Alex says and he sounds sincere. “If I don’t enjoy the experience, I won't be shy about it.”

“And if you win? What do you want?”

“Here’s where I do get pervy."

"Of course."

"I win and you let me buy you a pair of cowboy boots and a Stetson and you wear them for me.”

“Nothing else, I’m assuming.”

“Anything else would get in the way, Henry.”

“You’re on.”

*

Minutes and minutes later, victory is Henry’s and he graciously accepts Alex’s request for a final run, plopping down on the front of Alex’s sledge when he makes a grabby motion for Henry, his legs open. Their combined weight rips them downslope, easily the record of the night. They’re a powdery pile at the bottom when they come to a stop short of the treeline with a sharp turn and tumble off the sledge. 

“You alright?” Henry asks. 

“I should be asking you. You’re the one who cushioned my fall. Am I smothering you?"

“It's all fine for now, love. You’ll be nursing my aching bruises later.”

“Obviously.” Alex animates the line of his brow. “Just call me the love doctor.”

“Won’t be doing that, thanks," Henry comments. Using his teeth—due to most of him being trapped under Alex—Henry yanks back the pouch of his right mitten. He assesses the snarled wreckage of Alex’s hair that’s been freed of the headtorch and clumsily combs through it with chilled fingers. There’s a small scratch by Alex’s temple. Henry thumbs away the paper-cut thin trace of red and finds Alex’s perfect eyes. “You didn’t let me win, did you?”

“Me? Never. I lost,” Alex insists, sweetly leaning his head into Henry’s touch. His adoration is spotless if not his honesty. “Life rolls on.”

Henry considers calling Alex out but a shiver distracts him, stalls his tongue. 

Alex’s arms around him tighten and with their physical arrangement, it’s plenty awkward. It’s also loving. He ridiculously presses a kiss to Henry’s wintry-wet palm. “Cold?”

Spellbound, Henry murmurs, “A bit, yeah.”

“I’ve got a way to get you warm,” Alex shares quietly. 

*

Henry moans and licks at his lips, chasing the flavor off his mouth. “This is sinful.”

“I know,” Alex says after a long sip from his UT mug. “Nothing beats Mexican hot chocolate.”

“And the amaretto? Ugh, chef’s kiss.”

“Discovered that little addition four Christmases ago.”

Henry smiles at him and eats another mini marshmallow. “The man’s a genius.”

“Yeah, my ideas aren’t all shit that will have us needing Icy Hot the next day,” Alex replies, his gaze dropping to where their sock feet share the spindle of a kitchen stool.

Henry lightly kicks him. Kicks him again to get his full attention. “Tonight wasn’t shit.”

“No?”

“No.”

Alex sighs, abandons his drink to rub at his stubbled jaw. “Snow felt like—like a fresh start. A renewal, I guess. Getting rid of yesterday. I know it’s not that easy, that it doesn’t work like that and it’s fucking stupid—”

His heart sore and swollen, Henry closes the distance that parts them, hushes Alex’s doubt with a slow and open kiss. He kisses past the cling of sugar and spice, until it’s clean. 

“I love you,” Henry says. His words are only a fraction of what he means but he knows Alex can read the spaces between. Thank you. It helps. You help.

“Love you still. Love you always.” Alex curls into him, his hand over Henry’s knee. 

He’s there. He’s there, Henry knows because he can read Alex’s spaces just as well.

--

please forgive any mistakes. i read over it but it was written very quickly. also, i’m fairly sure there are no hills behind the white house. the grounds are pretty flat but for some reason this fic insisted on being there.

[chronicowboy]

my pitch for the ludicrous buck scary decorations masks b-plot is that buck's on a date with tommy at his loft when his decorations act out. idk what they do. one of them falls on him or something maybe. or just like starts moving. anyway buck freaks the fuck out about it. and tommy laughs until it becomes clear that buck definitely isn't joking in all his rambling about how the secondhand decorations he bought from a flea market are actually haunted and then he's all "you don't really believe in that stuff, do you, evan?" and buck's like "did you not see what just happened???" anyway. cut to buck telling the 118 about it the next day. and they're all teasing him. chimney's advising a ouija board and seance. hen is suggesting that the ghost might be homophobic and therefore shouldn't be communicated with. bobby's just shaking his head at them all. eddie's rolling his eyes in the fondest way humanly possible, actually beyond human possibility. and buck's like "ha-ha anyway the worst part was tommy didn't believe me, he thinks i'm just seeing things or being superstitious or something" and hen and chim and bobby all look at eddie expecting to share in their beloved buck's ridiculousness with their resident skeptic, only... eddie has suddenly stood like he's in one of gerrard's line ups again. "what? he didn't believe you? but he was there! that's insane, buck. that's so stupid. like it sounds like your loft might actually be haunted and he's just brushing it off? you could be in actual danger! how about i come by after shift and we stake the place out together? do some investigating? we could tell chris we're ghostbusting - might get him to talk to us or at least call us lame". and hen and chim and bobby are absolutely bemused by this but also. hen's squinting like she's beginning to realise why eddie might have sold out all his steadfast beliefs at the drop of a hat. buck doesn't notice any of this because he's too busy grinning adoringly at eddie (who is very rosy cheeked by this point fyi). and then he goes "that sounds great eddie, let me look up ghost hunting techniques" and he actually legitimately skips off to do his research. and eddie watches him go, sighs, faces the music and says "not. a. word." to the peanut gallery before going up to the roof to lament. anyway. the ghost hunting actually ends up scaring them both. and uhhh they're all huddled together in like. the bathtub or something. and um maybe they've both got headtorches on. and uh eddie keeps wanting to suggest they just take the decorations down in the light of day but then there's another jumpscare and buck grabs his hand. and eddie stares down at it with the reverence of a believer looking upon the face of god. and then he starts having a panic attack because that's so nice, that's everything actually, he wants that for the rest of his life. and yeah definitely a panic attack. and buck looks at him with big wide eyes and goes "eddie? eddie, cmon, man i was kinda relying on you to be the brave one here" and eddie looks at buck's lips, just for a second!!, and says "i'm sorry. i'm so sorry, buck" and then he runs out of the loft, gets in his truck, passes a church, and turns into the parking lot. this will not happen but it's happening in my brain.

[thetruthwilloutsworld]

Instagram samheughan

PT 4

We hike along the main trekking trail in the Kumbu Valley. Stopping at several lodges, a real bed and warm fire are welcome after two weeks of tents at high altitude. Stray dogs, yaks and perhaps even a snow leopard keep us company. Memorial hill for climbers lost on Everest a sober reminder.

We climb Kala Pattar 18,500ft at sunset and watch the sun bath Everest and Nuptse in golden light. Headtorches guide us back to the warmth, beer, cards and bowls of steaming noodles. Gorak Shep and then finally Base Camp Everest. We scour the ice fall for ancient climbing equipment and unique stones.

Then, we catch a taxi, a helicopter down the valley past Syngboche village, sleep in a real bed and breakfast with views of Everest and the upper Kumbu Valley.

Returning to Kathmandu and the real world, what an adventure. Like a high altitude dream, did it even happen... I want to go back x

Posted 21 December 2024

Pictures 2/2

[markscherz]

Hi Dr Scherz, not a frog question but did you also interact with leeches in Madagascar? I heard they suck blood and live with frogs? 🧛

It's spoopy season, friends. Strap in.

Here's a teaser:

Look how cute it is. How much panic could it really cause?

Read the tags before continuing. You have been warned.

So terrestrial leeches are very common at moderate elevations in Malagasy rainforests. The worst I have ever encountered was around 1200 m above sea level on Montagne d'Ambre in the north of Madagascar. I had been warned, but I was not prepared.

On our first night at this elevation, we went out in search of reptiles and frogs and were absolutely besieged by leeches. Hundreds upon hundreds of them. Panic broke out, because you couldn't stop to flick them off onto the ground without having more make it onto you, and the people at the back of the line were picking up those that the leaders had flicked off. We ran back to camp.

In camp, the situation was not much better. Every now and then you would feel an itch and find a leech attached here or there. Small, but annoying, and itchy!

Porters bringing supplies to camp arrived in their sport shorts with their legs completely coated in blood. Even the reptiles were beset by the leeches.

Over the next few days, we managed to adjust, and to find solutions that helped reduce the leech burden. But our clothes were stained in blood, especially around the waist, where the leeches attach when they reach the top of your trousers. I preferred this to the alternative…

You can stop reading here if you are squeamish. Really. You might not want to know.

…

…

…

…

One night, working in a tiny forest fragment in northeastern Madagascar, my colleague Marius ran over to me and said 'I have something in my eye, can you check what it is?'. I turned my headtorch on his eye, and there was the black, glistening shape of a leech that had decided that today's meal of choice was sclera.

I had heard and read about this before. Colleagues working in southeastern Madagascar had told me horror stories. I had watched youtube videos about people getting leeches in their eyes. I was prepared with the bad news.

'You're going to have to leave it in,' I explained to Marius, trying to keep the panic from my voice. 'It will drop off by itself. You could really hurt your eye if you try to get it off.'

This did not have the desired effect. Marius and one of our guides exchanged a quick stream of Malagasy that I did not follow. Marius started pouring water into his eye, with no effect. Slowly, the guide began rolling up his zipper in the cloth of his coat, as I watched on, equal parts fascinated and horrified, emitting feeble protests of 'but I read on the internet…' and 'I really think you should leave it in…' (knowing in my heart that I would be doing exactly the same thing as Marius, were I in his situation).

I understood what was planned, and elected to help as best I could. While Marius knelt, I shone my headtorch into his eye. The guide crouched over him, and in one swift but firm movement, wiped the cloth-wrapped zipper over the leech. It came free, and out, and Marius blinked, dousing the eye in still more water.

Over the next days, I had several close encounters, catching leeches at my cheek or on my chin, almost as though they were targeting the eyes. Sometimes when I would go to check a random itch on my face, I would find a leech on my hand on the way up.

Since then, when I walk through a rainforest where I know there are leeches, my body is on a constant subconscious rhythm: check the sleeves, check the hands, use the hands to check the face, check the sleeves, check the hands, use the hands to check the face…

So far, I haven't had the misfortune to experience this myself, but having gotten to experience it second hand, that is quite enough for me, thank you very much.

I also realised that by having a tight seal between rain jacket and rain trousers, the face is the first target a leech might come to. This is why I no longer make this a tight connection, and welcome leech bites at the waistline. They are better than the alternative.

[capseycartwright]

starting my day at 6am in the pissing rain with a priest saying mass with a headtorch on was a weird start to my sunday. happy easter ig

[aspecbuddie]

had a headtorch from someone as an early xmas present, which I wanted for power cuts and dog walks in the dark etc

but I have just realised I can use it to crochet in my room without hurting my eyes

this is a gamechanger

[natskys-w]

Hawthorne nanny checklist

Fire extinguisher

Torche (solar/chargable preferable)

First aid wheelie suitcase

Grapling hooks

Emergency flairs

Safety glasses

Scones

Rigger gloves

Oren on speed dial

Roll of Gorilla Tape

Survival Tin

Windproof Matches

Wind Up Duronics Radio

Headtorch

Military Spec Snap Lights/Glow Sticks

Paracord Rope

Mr snuffles

Waterproof Container

Survival Whistles

Spair socks

Wire Saw

Survival Mirror

Electricity tester pen

[cyanskyflashlight]

The CYANSKY HS7R is the ideal companion for your outdoor exploration trip, offering an impressive 140 hours of battery life and two output designs - a 2800-lumen spotlight and a 2000-lumen neutral floodlight. It caters to all your lighting requirements in various settings.

[nuwanders]

I know jorunn and raydrin are ocs from way back, so 2&3 if u feel like sharing :)

ty ray! <3

2. How long was the process before the character reached its final version? (or a version that would be clearly recognizable as the character?)

answered for jórunn here but the same would apply for raydrin - tldr; they were both just regular humans living in the present day for the first few years of their existence, then i remade them as TES ocs when i was maybe 15 ish. their personalities were both v different to start with, so they only really took shape as their current selves when i started writing king & lionheart in 2021. so around 10 years in total!

3. What was the first thing you decided on, the character's name, appearance, personality or their role in the story?

also kind of answered here, i invented both of them when i was 9 for a short story in which jórunn and raydrin (under different names) are a young couple who go spelunking together and get lost when raydrin’s headtorch goes out. it was originally my mum’s idea and based on the deeply problematic notion of blind people having super bat-like hearing, which jórunn uses to get them out. so their role in (that) story came first - everything else fell into place over many many years. and weirdly the same could probably be said of their current iterations. i think many of their personality changes were shaped by the narrative of K&L and their respective backstories, and their appearances (particularly in raydrin's case) changed too. so 'role in the story' was still kind of the starting point, even if they technically existed beforehand. i think any good character should be designed to fit a narrative, and not the other way round

[abubblingcandle]

The Teddy Bear (take me with you everywhere)

Thank you! These are from the WIP ask game, I've done all the ones in my inbox now but still accepting more :)

This fic is the Roy Kent follow up to The Portable Heater (you'll be cold without) which is the fic where Jamie gets a bug and is sick and miserable and Roy looks after him.

I made a throwaway line at the end that made illusions of a sequel and the people asked for it so it is coming to your screens soon!

And if Jamie was the one having to make the tea and force feed his charge cold and flu tablets a week later … that was only fair right?

So the fic revolves around Roy refusing to stay put and recover when he comes down with the same bug Jamie had. Jamie is 'forced' into being Roy's babysitter until he is feeling better

A little snippet for you!

“Fuck,” Jamie cursed as soon as Roy opened the door. Since those first few days, Jamie had been driving over to Roy’s for their 4am training so that Roy could then make him a nutritionally appropriate breakfast as he showered and then they could do some film review before heading to training. The routine was settling. Jamie was still aching from the lack of attention and goals and the Zava of it all but having Roy Kent’s one on one attention gave him a warm tingle in his chest. It was all sexy little baby Jamie Tartt had dreamed of when he watched Roy tear up the pitch. It was probably more than what Jamie had ever dreamed of. So when he was jogging on the spot on Roy’s doorstep with his silly little headlamp on, Jamie was thrumming with excitement. Excitement that died as soon as he laid eyes on Roy. His legs stilled and he let out another whispered, “fuck.” “Why are you stopping?” Roy wheezed, each word sounding like sandpaper scraping its way up his throat. Roy was flushed red all over, particularly the little spot at the end of his nose and looked like he was barely clinging onto consciousness. His grip on the doorframe was white knuckled and doing a lot of the work of stopping him from braining himself on his front steps. Yet Roy was dressed in his running gear and had his own headtorch pointed at Jamie.

[spell-cleaver]

Gravediggers

Chapter 12: We see how lonely you are.

Aphra has a talk with the queen and makes a momentous decision.

The queen was still up there, lying on her side. The enormous segments of her body that had seemed so large when Aphra was bouncing over them seemed deflated, white goo leaking out in a few places. She was surrounded by the corpses of her flying droids, who'd rushed to protect her like they'd accidentally protected Aphra, but the queen was a much larger target. They were splattered on the dais around her, splintering and flattened by rocks.

With tiny, spindly arms that were in no way up for the task, the queen tried to push herself back to her former glory, but she stayed lying there, limp. One of her arms was even pulped and flattened itself; she'd torn it from where it lay under a rock, and from the joint downwards it was ragged, smashed, and bloody.

A droid flew to assist her. The whine and crackle of its wings beating made Aphra flinch; it sounded just like—it was just like—Luke's new wings. Was that why they'd given them to him?

She might never know. She'd never see Luke again.

Even if she escaped with her life, he was with Vader. She doubted he would escape with his.

Her chest seized. She laid a hand on it in panic. Carbon monoxide poisoning? Already?

Worse. It might just be grief.

The queen was lifted back upright by her surviving droids, and Aphra looked away, the light of her headtorch skipping along the rocks and the rubble. She might as well have raised a lightsaber and shouted, "Look at me!" The queen's gaze zeroed in on her.

"You," she declared.

Read the rest on AO3 or on FFN!

[rebeccaberry]

Below Ground (A Short Horror Story)

Hey all! After a short break from writing, I'm back with another one, here you go!

My name is Alice Grace. I’ve always considered myself to be something of an adrenaline junky. I’ve always loved going on roller coasters, watching scary movies, and even things like sky-diving and cliff-jumping. Most of all though, I’ve always been a huge fan of cave diving. I love to gear up and head down into the darkness, venturing deep inside the Earth through winding underwater tunnel systems that seem to lead on endlessly. Until recently that is.

I always knew the dangers that came with the hobby, like getting lost, bumping my head, and god forbid getting myself stuck in too tight a gap, so I made sure to never go on a trip without making sure people above ground knew where I was going, and how long I intended to be down there. I’d never had any issues before, and I thought I was probably experienced enough to know how to stay safe, but it was still better to be safe than sorry. I certainly didn’t want to become lost underground, no matter how much I enjoyed being down there.

It was early Summer at the time. The rainy time of the year was over so it seemed like it would be a perfect opportunity to go on a dive. I’d only recently moved into my new home, and I didn’t know about any caves in the area, so I took to some online forums to do some research. As it turned out, the mountains near where I’d moved to had a cave system advertised as strictly for professional cave divers. The cave had a few openings on the mountains that eventually led into the same tunnel system, but the one that had caught my eye the most was named ‘Tenebris Circumdare’, which according to Google, translates to ‘Darkness Surrounds’ from Latin. 

All of the reviews for the tunnels leading off of that opening were absolutely glowing, which usually wouldn’t make me that interested, as it would likely mean that there would be lots of people doing the dive at the same time as me, which I didn’t enjoy. The difference with Tenebris Circumdare, however, was that it is considered one of the trickiest systems in the country, and sometimes considered the hardest in the state. So even if there were going to be a few divers, it was an opportunity I didn’t want to pass up.

I cleared out a Saturday morning about a week ahead on my calendar and made sure that all of my cave diving gear was still in good shape, luckily it was, as I wouldn’t be keen on spending a whole lot of money on new gear. On the morning of the dive, I called a friend of mine, John Weston, about my cave diving plans. I asked him to call the local authorities if I didn’t check in with him by that afternoon. John agreed and I began the half-hour drive to Tenebris Circumdare.

When I arrived at the site I was pleasantly surprised to discover that it didn’t seem as though anybody else was around, I hadn’t seen any cars other than mine. I got my gear out of my car and got ready to begin the dive. I’d brought carabiners, pitons, a headtorch, diving gear, and a map of the cave system. I’d plotted a course through the tunnels that I predicted would take me about a day to get there and back. 

I double-checked that I was at the right place on Google Maps before entering the cave system. It was, and so I began my descent. The cave was pitch black, and without my head torch, I couldn’t make out so much as my hands in front of me. As I ventured further into the cave I quickly noticed that it became narrower and narrower as I moved through it, to the point where going through with my bag on my back was nearly impossible. Eventually, I passed through a tight squeeze into a slightly larger portion of the cave and saw a hole in the ground in front of me, it was an opening into the underwater tunnels.

I had my diving gear in my bag, so I unpacked it and got ready to go down. Once I was prepared I eased myself into the water. It was freezing, but it only took me a few moments to acclimatise to the temperature. 

Once I was fully submerged in the water I looked around, the tunnel I’d entered was wide, but it only had one way to go, which was good, because it meant I was less likely to get lost down here. My headtorch illuminated the water up to about a metre in front of me. I began to swim forward, going slowly so I didn’t bump into a rock I managed to not see, and so that I could look around.

I always found the dive to be the most invigorating part, and while it certainly was invigorating, the entire time I had a strange paranoid feeling in the back of my mind like somebody was watching me. Of course, I knew that nobody was watching me, I was the only one in the tunnels.

I continued to swim forward and found myself at a dead end. I looked around for any openings that led out of the water. At first, I couldn’t find one and was concerned that I would have to go back already, despite it only having been about an hour. After a few moments of searching, however, I noticed a small opening barely large enough for me to squeeze into that was at a strange angle.

I pulled myself through the opening and found myself in a long tunnel that had a low roof, requiring me to nearly be all the way on my hands and knees to get through it. I pushed forward, careful not to damage the equipment on my back, the tunnel got tighter and I was considering going back when it started to widen again and I found myself in a space where I could stand nearly upright, there was an opening into another underwater tunnel here.

I eased myself into the water, acclimatising quicker this time having already been in the cold water. This tunnel was thin, and I could only just turn my head, as I looked around me the light from my headtorch reflected what looked to be small gemstones embedded in the walls. I was mystified. As I moved forward the walls became more gems than normal stone, and I was seriously considering the possibility that I was the first diver to have found this part of the tunnels, as none of the reviews I’d seen online mentioned anything like this.

I barely had the chance to think about that, however, because as I swam forward I saw a quick flash of something dark moving quickly in the corner of my vision. My head snapped in the direction of the movement, I strained my eyes to see anything but I couldn’t make out anything other than the gems in the walls.

Feeling freaked out at the possibility of a living creature being in here with me, I decided that I wanted to head back and explore in a different direction. I turned around and began to slowly swim back towards the exit.

The swim back to the exit felt longer than the swim there, I thought that I might have missed it, it had been at an odd angle after all, but the longer I searched for the exit the more sure I became that it simply was not there anymore.

I don’t think I’ve ever been afraid during a dive, but the sinking feeling in my stomach at that moment was nearly overwhelming. I continued searching for the exit, what else could I do? It’s not like I’d find it by sitting around. As I searched for the exit I felt something brush past my ankle. I wanted to yell in surprise, but of course, I couldn’t under the water.

I spun around to look at whatever had touched my ankle. At first, I couldn’t see anything, but after a moment something slowly emerged into the light that my torch provided. My eyes widened as I looked at it. It would be impossible to describe what I saw in front of me, I’ll try my best, but I suspect that no description would adequately portray it.

At first, all I could see of it were the long tentacle limbs that it stretched out in front of it, they were nearly transparent, if I hadn’t been looking for something I doubt I would have even seen them. At the end of the tentacles, hand-like growths emerged, with too many ‘fingers’ to count. The tentacles twitched sporadically as they otherwise moved gracefully through the water towards me.

Soon after the tentacles emerged I saw some of the body come into view, at least, it might have been a body, but could have served some other purpose for the ineffable thing. The body was not transparent like the tentacles, at least, not all the time, when it was visible it was a colour I hadn’t seen before that I can best describe as if somebody had mixed every colour together, but rather than turning brown like usual, it had become an entirely new colour, never before seen.

Where the creature’s eyes could have been it had mouths and rather than a mouth it had many eyes that looked as though they’d been placed randomly, with no purpose, but that I rather thought would serve it well in those places.

I had to actively prevent myself from opening my mouth in shock and terror. I could not bear to look away from the thing that slowly dragged itself towards me, so I frantically grabbed around behind me looking for the exit while keeping my eyes locked on it.

One of the tentacles gripped my ankle and I felt a sharp pain, strangely, I felt calm after that. I continued to reach for the exit, but only absent-mindedly. I no longer cared about the death in a corporeal form that was approaching me. I decided that there was no point in looking for an exit anymore, I could not escape it.

Even though I had given in, my mind was conflicted, for I wanted to be afraid, but could not. If anything, the state I found myself in was one closer to awe than terror. As the thing reached me I closed my eyes, perhaps out of not wanting to witness my fate, or maybe because I hoped that if I couldn’t see the shambling monster then it would cease to exist. Of course, the latter certainly didn’t happen, and I felt the tentacles wrap around me, I was lifted up, only struggling momentarily before I gave in and was placed inside of one of the many maws the thing possessed. 

I don’t remember what happened after that. It was as though one moment I was inside the cave, the next I wasn’t. According to John Weston, when I didn’t contact him by the afternoon I went into the systems he contacted the local rangers and they sent a rescue team down after me. They found me in one of the underwater tunnels, it looked as though I’d passed out there, and I only had a few more minutes of air left, so I was lucky they found me when they did.

It never crossed my mind that my experience prior to being woken by John outside of the caves might have been a dream. I know it wasn’t a dream because I can still feel the many-fingered tentacles of the thing that I encountered there, they still wrap around my legs, my arms, my neck, everywhere. When I close my eyes I am not granted respite; I see it.

[woppetry]

Another thing that salespeople will do (at least in the UK) is try to pressure you into making a decision then and there.

Since my partner and I bought our house (which needs MAJOR renovation but thankfully came with a cabin we could move into until the house has things like ✨toilets✨ and ✨non-lethal electrics✨) we have been bombarded with targeted ads about funding for new windows and heating systems and insulation etc. And since we do need windows we contacted one of these companies to see what they were like.

The first thing they did was spam my partner with calls (during the work day which is annoying as a teacher) confirming that there just happened to be a consultant in the area who would come to our house that evening BUT we absolutely both needed to be there to speak to him. Two things here: we live very rural, 2 and a bit hours away from the nearest city, so the fact that the company happened to be visiting houses in our area the very same day we enquired seemed a stretch. The second thing: while it seems innocuous enough that they would want both of us there for this consultation, we had been through this exact scenario with a different company, at our previous house which my partner owned but I had no involvement in- they company refused to meet with him alone about his own house, his partner had to be there too. Whether this is because they think they can appeal more to women about spending x amount of money on a warm home, they don't want people to be able to use "I'll have to discuss it with the wife first" as a reason to not agree straight away, or they just don't want third parties misrepresenting their pitch, I don't now, but it's interesting that most of these companies will insist on this before meeting you.

Flash forward to that evening, its Scotland, its March, its dark and we're wearing headtorches and massive jackets. We meet the salesman at our house, and walk inside, expecting him to have a look at the windows we've got, but he takes out a slightly damp folder with a printed out PowerPoint and starts talking us through why most well known window brands are terrible and not to be trusted. My partner asks him a question about the u-value of the windows and he has no idea what a u-value is. We mention skylights and he umms and ahs, telling us that builders won't fit them anymore, it's not worth their time, it's too hard (completely untrue).

At the end of his pitch, which took the best part of an hour, he gives us a (very high) price for replacing our windows, but isn't able to give us any technical information about the windows. When we say we would have to discuss the offer and get back to him he knocks 20% off straight away. We tell him we appreciate that but we will still need to sleep on it and he rings his boss in front of us, describing our situation. The boss offers to take another 50% off the quote. We once again decline and say we would need to sleep on it first. The man starts to get agitated, going over his talking points again about why the windows are such a great deal. He makes no move to leave and it's now past 9pm.

Throughout this exchange the air around us in the house which has not been heated since 2019 gets colder and colder. Myself and my partner came prepared in our big jackets but the man in his cashmere sweather is starting to shiver (it turns out he had driven 3 and a half hours up to the Highlands from the Central belt- not in our area at all. We did offer him tea-he declined). Having taken a quote and been firm with the man that we would not be making a decision that night, the exchange turned into a spectacle of "how cold will this guy have to get before he leaves?"

Eventually, with blue lips, he makes a call to his boss telling him about the poor state of our house and how we wouldnt be at the point of needing windows for months. It doesn't look like there's going to be a sale here today. The boss makes a final offer to us and we tell him, once again, to put it in an email and we'll discuss it and get back to them.

We never receive this email.

And it's alright for us who are stubborn to begin with and can wait out a pushy man until he's so cold he has to leave, but it makes you wonder what the product quality is on something they have to market so aggressively, why they couldn't let us sleep on their offer, and what people who don't have a cold house and a puffy jacket would have to do in that situation.

So yeah, if a quote is good one day, it should also be good the next day. Always sleep on it and be wary of time sensitive offers.

Ive said this before but swear the biggest skill to learn as an adult is how to resist high-pressure sales tactics. You do NOT have to answer questions with anything other than "Sorry I'm not interested." No matter how nice they are or no matter how many follow up questions they ask or even how agitated they get when you stand your ground. Just keep saying I'm not interested. Don't answer their questions. Don't give them an opening to try to push back on your reasons. Be a fucking brick wall of I'm not interested.