#i looked at getting a refurbished one but every site I looked at was really ambiguous how safe they were and it’s like an $80 difference so | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

finneganmikkelsen9 · 2 years

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hermes pochette kelly 9

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#kelly pochette #hermes kelly pochette #mini kelly pochette #kelly pochette bag

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lamm97russo · 2 years

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hermes crocodile kelly 16

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This yr, Birkin requested her name be faraway from the crocodile model of the luggage due to allegations of abusive practices in acquiring the skins. Hermes Replica Kelly Bags offer a wide range of colors, types and materials for you to choose from, it is your taste time to take pleasure in Hermes value from our web site now! It has been refurbished, polished and the deal with has been redone. The hardware is its unique condition and has some very minor pale elements. The Kelly bag came to success when it was first paparazzied on the bumpy belly of Princess Grace Kelly in 1956. During the 20 next years, every woman wanted to purchase “Grace Kelly’s bag”. Her name became so linked to the bag that Hermes renamed the “Sac à Dépêches” bag to “Kelly” in 1977. Since then, the Kelly has been up to date once in 2000. Specializing in distinctive, impossible to get and vintage genuine Hermes baggage and accessories. With entry to the world's most interesting and rarest Hermes bags and a worldwide cult following, JaneFinds is your solely Investment Bag associate. Indisputable authentication and dedication to excellence. And all exotic skin handbags and accessories are handcrafted in strict compliance with CITES. Surely you’ll discover the exact classic or up to date hermes crocodile you’re seeking on 1stDibs — we’ve obtained an unlimited assortment for sale. Black is a reasonably well-liked color, however we also have Brown, Red, Blue and extra in inventory now. This refined, super feminine clutch is designed with a stunning prolonged rectangular body and t.. This is to verify that I actually have received the requested bag and it's very nice, thanks on your professional manner and enterprise. There was a scratch on the chain -see hooked up photo- hopefully subsequent time there will be nothing as for sure I might be shopping for extra stuff out of your store. For the extra adventurous, the Kelly Cut Clutch has dramatic proportions paired with the basic Kelly-style sangle closure. Lift latch single flap type closure opens to a black leather-based lined interior that holds 2 slit and 1 zippere... wikipedia hermes crocodile kelly Guaranteed genuine Hermes Birkin 30 bag wealthy Orange Feu in niloticus crocodile. Comes with the lock and keys in the clochette, sleepers, raincoat and... While the Kelly and Birkin may be standouts, gracing the arms of everyone from royal heiresses to hip-hop stars in the past few many years, the handbags are however a small part of Hermès’s trend choices. Since the Twenties, the brand has produced a variety of the most desirable leather goods on the earth.

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niqhtlord01 · 3 years

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Humans are Weird: Soldier without a war. Part I

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

“You sure the speks don’t patrol there?”

“If they did do you really think I’d bring this rust bucket along for a job?”

Melp strapped himself into the copilot’s chair and looked over the console readings one last time. All systems were showing minimal operational capacity which normally would have been setting off alarm bells but with how things had been going for him and his captain lately it was the best they could ask for.

Melp was part of the salvage company “Outlying Star”, co-owner in fact with his partner and current captain Galem. When the war against humanity had started the two had thought it was the best idea to make a fortune with all the wrecks floating between star systems from fleet combat and had went all in on a converted freighter to pick through the bones and sell what they could.

At first Melp and Galem had made a killing, bringing in semi functional sub space drives and salvaged fully automated hard shell loaders from human ships. They made enough to fund a fleet of five ships and live the good life back on Valfha without a care in the world; for a little while at least.

Galem thought it was because of the government’s restrictions on salvageable items that had hampered their business but Melp believed it was because they were just too good at it that and had inspired countless others to take up the salvage game. Soon markets, both legal and black, became flooded with salvaged goods and people willing to undercut each other to make a quick buck. Neutron cannon went from 3.5 billion credits in value to just under 300 million credits in the span of six months. As a side effect of the sudden influx of salvage parts the government began taking notice and cracked down hard. Salvagers were called “Scavies” and deemed criminals by the government and the military would all too happily fire on any scavy ship they spotted. Seems they weren’t too happy about people rummaging through the wrecks of ships that once held their friends and the government would turn a blind eye if a scavy ship was destroyed during “Live Fire Exercises”.

Soon the jobs became even riskier and Outlying Star lost three ships after they were caught and destroyed. Another had to be sold for parts and salvage and now the final ship, the Morning Gale, was the last hope for Galem and Melp to make back some money.

“How do you even know this site hasn’t been picked clean already?” Melp asked over his shoulder as Galem entered the cockpit and locked the door behind him. “We could be wasting our time on a fantasy.” Galem shook his head which did little to ease Melp’s concerns.

“I got it from a reliable source that there was a big fight in the Glipi Cluster that we lost to the humans.” Galem began as he took the controls and slowly pulled back on the engine throttle as the ship ascended. “It was so embarrassing that the navy wiped all records of the battle and said the destroyed ships were lost in a freak transition from sub space into a rogue comet cluster.”

“If the data was wiped how does your source know about it?” Melp quipped as the ship breached upper atmosphere and exited the travel lanes for the jump point.

Galem smirked as he engaged the sub space drive.

“They were there.”

As the salvage ship exited sub space Melp let out a gasp. He blinked several times and rubbed his eyes yet when he opened them all he could see was a shroud of purple. Galem saw Melp’s confused expression and chuckled.

“It’s the color of the gas filtering through this entire cluster.” He said calmly as he flicked on several scanners and filter units. “Try looking now.”

Melp looked again as the shades of purple faded away and let out a startled gasp. Upon gazing out of the cockpit window he could see why the navy had wanted to cover up this place so badly.

Floating around them were dozens of lifeless wrecks of Mibari warships ranging from light destroyers to several cruisers. Compared to their tiny ship it was as if Melp and Galem had entered the realm of giants. Melp was transfixed by the wrecks and became utterly enthralled when a massive shadow draped across their vessel.

“Is that what I think it is?” Melp spoke sheepishly as his blue hands trembled and changed to a soft orange color. Galem leaned forward in his seat to look out the window and whistled as his eyes caught sight of what had terrified Melp.

“A galaxy class troop carrier.”

The massive ship spun slowly in place like a top that refused to stop spinning, the metal interior exposed in several places from weapons revealing a dark interior of metal supports and long dead hallways. Melp looked towards the front of the ship as the command deck slowly spun into view and he was surprised to see the name of the ship had survived the damage it had taken.

“The Vault of Ohya…” Melp softly spoke. He reached out with an arm and shook Galem who was smiling like a hatchling on birthing day. “That’s the Vault of Ohya!”

“A piece of her hull to the right collector would be enough to refurbish this little dingy,” Galem said as he playfully smacked the command console, “into one hell of a floating casino.”

The two of them broke down into fits of laughter as if they had just been driven mad by their findings; but it was not of madness that now drove them but the sheer joy of their discovery.

These dozen ships floating lifelessly in the cluster were more than enough to bring the two of them back into the life of luxury they once held and keep them there until their dying days.

Melp was still star gazing at the shattered troop carrier when something else suddenly grabbed his attention.

“What’s that?”

Melp tore his gaze away from the Ohya and saw what Galem was looking at.

A new vessel slowly drifted out of the shadow of the troop carrier and came into view. It was clearly a human vessel of some kind; the lack luster design a clear give away. The body of the ship was missing sections of itself, but rather than appearing as if it had been damaged in the battle it looked more as if the ship had not finished being built. Sections of the body were lacking armor showing a complex network of pipes and corridors. The hull was painted in a soft grey color that stood out sharply among the ever shifting gas cloud surrounding it. Rows of gun ports ran along the sides, their openings revealing nothing of the pitch black interior giving them the appearance of small gaping mouths ready to consume Melp and his ship.

The more Melp looked at the ship the more he felt something was just wrong with it. Galem must have felt something as well as he pulled up the virtual display and began interacting with it.

“Not sure what that thing is but it’s not listed in the records.” He said as he closed the display and leaned over the controls to get a better view of it. The tingling feeling at the bottom of Melp’s three stomachs was starting to grow stronger as his uneasiness did not subside.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that there’s no record of that ship variant from the entire war with humanity on any recorded file.” He popped open the virtual display again and flicked it over so it was hovering in front of Melp to view while he fiddled with the controls again. “Which means it’s worth a whole lot more than anything here.”

“How do you figure that?” As a response to Melp’s question he waved his arm across the scattered wrecks.

“Out of all the ships here the human ones are all clustered around that one as if they meant to protect it.” Galem said as he began moving the ship closer to the strange human ship.

“They could have bugged out and ran, but instead they all fought and died just to protect that thing; which means something on it must’ve been worth defending.”

Melp knew what Galem had some merit, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still very wrong; but before he could raise his concerns though a loud shudder ran through the scavenger ship.

“Get your suit on,” Galem said as he exited out of the cockpit, “let’s go find us some treasure.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If the exterior of the ship had uneased Melp, the interior down right terrified him.

No sooner had the airlock door opened the two scavengers leaped back in shock. Standing at the entrance was a humanoid looking figure. Galem screamed and grabbed hold of a nearby cutting tool and swung it at the figure before Melp could even say anything.

A shower of sparks eradiated off the figure’s body as the plasma torch cut into it, all the while Galem was continuing to scream, and cut a decent size hole through the beings torso.

“Shut it!” Melp shouted at Galem, forcing the scared halfwit to calm down some while Melp inched closer and retrieved the still burning plasma torch. The figure had not moved and inch even as the torch had melted away his exterior and as Melp moved closer still he noticed why.

“It’s an automated drone you idiot.”

Melp motioned him forward and the two of them inspected the machine.

It was human shaped but it was entirely of metal and wires, a mindless drone used for menial tasks such as inventory handling or maintenance. It wore a human uniform for some reason which clashed with its blank reflective visor face.

“Why’s it standing here?” Galem asked as he nervously tapped the drone. The touch pushed it off the ground and the dead drone slowly lifted off the ground in the zero-g environment and floated back into the ship, bouncing off the back wall before continuing to silently float away.

“Maybe it’s here to greet us?” Melp chuckled as he activated his mag locks and his feet latched on to the metallic floor. Galem followed suit and the two began entering the derelict ship.

“Can’t be,” Galem began as they reached the airlock secondary doors and began slowly opening them, “these tin cans would run out of power in a day and it’s been years since this tussle went down.”

With several loud grunts as the two strained with the manual release the inner airlock to the human ship finally cracked open. The two entered slowly, not knowing what to expect, and took stock of their surroundings.

They entered a long hallway that seemed to stretch out far into the distance passed the reach of their head lamps. Melp could see side corridors scattered every few dozen feet no doubt leading to other sections of the ship, but likewise they too were pitch black.

Something about Melp’s comment made him pull out his data scroll and do a quick scan. The device beeped rapidly as the scan commenced before ending with a loud “DING” and displaying a waterfall of information.

Melp read the data as the two continued to hover by the airlock entrance.

“It says here that somethings still giving off a power signature here.” Melp commented as he ran he scan again to be sure.

“Give it here,” Galem said as he turned to Melp with his hand outstretched, “you must be reading it-“

When Galem didn’t finish his sentence Melp looked up and saw something akin to a mixture of fear and surprise on his face. He was staring at something over his shoulder so Melp slowly turned in place , his magnetic feet latching heavily to the decking with each step like two magnets smashing together.

When he finally turned around he let out a yelp of surprise and tried to jump back, but his magnetic feet kept him firmly locked to the floor leaving him in an almost comical off balance state.

Standing directly behind him was another of the drones, this one dressed in what appeared to be some sort of security uniform even including an empty weapon holster at his side.

Neither of the scavengers knew how the thing got there as it most certainly hadn’t been standing there a moment ago. Before either of them could respond the drone’s visor lit up and displayed a pixelated face. The visor was damaged with a deep crack running the length of it making the display flicker in and out on half the screen giving it an eerily ghost like visage.

“The captain,” the drone began as it stepped to one side of the hallway and extended a hand into the darkness, “requests your presence on the bridge.”

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story

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wrenhyperfixates · 3 years

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The Raven Haired Rebel

Chapter 4

Pairing: Loki x reader Series Summary: After invading New York, it was decided that, as a punishment, Loki would work for SHIELD. Yeah, right. After escaping from their custody and stranded on Midgard, the God of Mischief decides to prove he’s the one thing no one ever thought he was: the good guy. Now a vigilante, Loki attempts to make amends for his past wrongdoings while also evading the Avengers, including their newest member. You. Brought in specially for the case, you notice more and more details about the prince’s story don’t add up. When you get the chance to turn him in, will you listen to your employers or your heart that believes Loki’s done nothing wrong? Chapter Summary: In which Loki and you make a breakthrough. Chapter Warnings: none I believe A/N: Happy reading folks :)

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedficrecs @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90 @myraiswack @mythicalgarlicknot @what-a-flammable-heart @marvelouslovely @laurenandloki @fallinallinmendes @sophlubbwriting @mooncat163 @lokislittlesigyn

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Masterlist

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Loki had insisted on moving again before your team got to work. The team, of course, was really just you and him, but he liked the sound of it. Of having a whole little group to belong to. But, in reality, he didn’t. He had you, at least, and that was enough for now. Quite possibly for forever, if he were to be honest. After all, everyone always says it's better to have one true friend than a million who don’t care for you at all. Growing up, he’d had plenty of sycophants attach themselves to his hip, only to ignore him once they got close with Thor. That was before everyone decided Loki wasn’t even worth their time. The lonely, brooding sorcerer prince of Asgard deemed too unimportant to even use as a gateway to greater things.

You, however, were different; Loki could tell. Truly, you had nothing to gain and everything to lose by aligning yourself with him. Yet there you were, listening with rapt attention and big eyes, clinging to his every word. That was why his latest choice of motel was nicer than the previous one. He felt like you deserved it. The fact that there was only one bed was not his doing, he swore on his life. Alas, that was all that was available. He’d offered to take the floor so you could have it to yourself, but you insisted on sharing. And with all your stubbornness, who was he to resist?

Now, that’s not to say there weren’t problems with the set-up because there most certainly were. Like the fact that on the first night, despite falling asleep with his back toward you, he woke up facing you, an arm lazily wrapped around your waist. He could tell your sleep was feigned, an act he assumed was out of consideration for him so he wouldn’t be embarrassed. He’d whipped his arm away as quick as he could, rolling onto his back, the act making you open your eyes and blink innocently at him.

“You know,” you’d said, sleep still in the edges of your voice. “I really didn’t mind.”

“Thank you,” he’d cleared his throat. “But you do not have to say that just for my sake.”

You’d splayed a hand on his chest and leaned your body over his, making his heart stutter in his chest. “I’m not. I mean it.”

Before he could think of some reply- which with the way things were going, honestly could have been kissing you—you moved away from him. He laid there for a bit longer as you fixed yourself a breakfast of cereal. You put together a bowl for him, too, leaving it on his nightstand. Even that he did not touch for a bit, too lost in thought. He hadn’t been in touch with his emotions for quite some time. Now when he needed to most, he hoped he could be again.

Whether he understood his feelings or not, he stopped pulling away in the mornings. Because, yes, without fail, every time he woke up his arm was around you. You kept snuggling closer every night too; just that day he’d woken up to your head resting on his shoulder. He’d adjusted his haphazard grip on your body to hold you closer, tighter. It was a secure little bubble for the two of you to relish in, away from all the troubles of the world. How Loki wished he never had to leave it. Sadly, there was work to be done.

Currently, you were trying to find AIM’s secret headquarters. Loki was flipping through the files of intel he’d compiled, and you were tapping away on that computer device you had. You’d tried to explain how to use it, but it was lost on Loki. He promised to try again once you had more time. Which was odd, he thought, that you’d want to stick around him even after all this was over.

He wasn’t even exactly sure what he was going to do once his name was cleared. He didn’t particularly want to join SHIELD, though he felt that’s what you had in mind. So even if he didn’t agree to becoming the other half to a top secret crime fighting duo with you, would you still want to stay with him? What if he wanted to keep up this rebel, vigilante lifestyle? Would you keep traveling with him? He was pretty sure he’d miss you if you didn’t.

One thing he wouldn’t miss, however, was the fact you decided to put the TV on. The incessant blathering coming from the screen was beginning to annoy him. He’d tolerated it the whole week you’d spent together, but it was really getting on his last nerve now.

“Darling? Would you mind turning that off?” he asked.

“Do I have to?” you pouted. “I think better with the background noise.”

He walked over to the counter you were sitting on, going to grab the remote. You picked it up before he could and held it above your head so he couldn’t reach it. Unfortunately, even with the boost your perch on the countertop provided, he was devastatingly tall. You tried moving it back behind you a bit, too, but after a quick struggle, he seized it from your grasp with a smirk, hitting the power button.

“So some music then?” you asked with a grin.

“How about some peace and quiet?” he chuckled.

You playfully sighed. “Only for you.”

He hadn’t realized it during your little game, but he was standing between your legs so that they were wrapped around him a little. He knew it should have been oh so easy just to move away, yet he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Your fingers began to run through his hair as he stood there, the tenderness startling him.

“What are you doing?” he puzzled when you stopped for a minute, only to start massaging his scalp.

“You seem stressed,” you shrugged, hesitating for a moment but ultimately deciding to continue. “Is this alright?”

“Yes,” he sighed in relief as he allowed tension to leave his body. “It is perfect.”

When you finished, ending by smoothing his mussed hair back down, he rested his head on your shoulder, eyes hidden in the crook of your neck. His arms wrapped around your waist and you held him back, contentedly humming your approval. It was dangerous that he felt so attached to you, he thought. He was also surprisingly worried for you, but he could write that off in his mind as he felt like he was in your debt, something he didn’t like being in to anyone. The only way he felt certain he could repay it was by keeping you safe.

“Are you certain they will not find us, darling?” he checked. “That we should not move again?”

“We’re practically hiding in plain sight, and we haven’t really been out of this room in a week. We’ll be alright,” you assured him.

“Ok,” he acquiesced, though he was ready to protect you at any cost. His clever little darling mortal. But before he could analyze what all that really meant, something else occurred to him. “Wait a minute, that is it! Hiding in plain sight.”

You cocked your head at him as he pulled away a bit so he could look at you. “You mean... AIM is hiding in plain sight. Of course! Why didn’t we think of that sooner?”

“Well, it is just an idea. After all, we have checked their active facilities and found no suspicious activity there.”

“Good point,” you mused, going back to your computer. “But what about a site that’s not up and running yet?”

Loki looked on at the screen as you ran a few algorithms. He must admit, he was rather impressed as you quickly narrowed the options down location by location until only one was left.

“Here,” you said, turning the device so he could see it easier. “A new facility they’ve been ‘remodeling’ to make it the latest branch. But look when they bought it and started renovations; just a little over three months ago.”

“Which corresponds with the spike in their activity,” Loki caught on to your point. He took your hand and led you over to the bed where his files were laid out. “Hold on, I know I have a history of their transactions somewhere... Aha! Here, look; they have not bought very many items with which to refurbish a new building. Plus, those are not any of their usual contractors.”

“So that’s it then. That’s their base,” you said with a bubbling excitement. “So now we just have to get in.”

“No offense, darling, but are you sure you are up for it?”

“Yes,” you glared. “Besides, look at this. They’re ‘hiring.’”

Well, you were determined and clever, Loki had to give you that. The only problem being AIM was too. They were pretty good at keeping up a front, and he somehow had a feeling something would go terribly wrong. Still, some kind of backup would be nice. He didn’t want to hurt your feelings either. Norns, he really was going soft for you.

“Alright. So we go in for an interview and then sneak off to where they conduct their more unsavory business. But if we are going to clear my name, we have to let SHIELD know too,” he thought out loud.

“Easy,” you replied. “I’ll ping them our location once we get there. They’ll ship out immediately.”

“True,” he said, though he wasn’t exactly the biggest fan of letting them know where he was, let alone where you were. However, he didn’t really see many other viable options. “Then I suppose we should set to work, darling.”

You were able to get interviews for that Wednesday, just a mere three days away. Loki had noticed a disclaimer at the bottom of the form that said you may be offered a job at a different location. How very clever of them, he thought, to multitask like that, keeping up a front and expanding their company at the same time. Then again, he felt like it wasn’t the smartest idea to let anyone into a place where you were cooking a nefarious plot. That’s what happened when people got secure in what they did, though. They got lazy.

Regardless, about twelve hours later, you were off to California for your appointments, hoping the cover of night would make it harder to track you. As the sun rose on your car driving along the interstate, Loki broke the comfortable silence that had settled between you, ready to say what had been on his mind for the past several miles.

“You know that if something goes awry, we will not be able to save the other, right?” he began. “It will jeopardize the mission.”

“I know,” you replied. “We have to focus on taking them down. It’s not like SHIELD will be particularly happy with me either if we fail.”

“Yes, well, I thought it was worth mentioning. I am glad we are in agreement.”

After a few more minutes of silence, you spoke again. “Hey, Loki?”

“Yes, darling?”

“I think I’m falling for you.”

“Then,” he answered, turning his head to look out the window in order to hide his blush. He wished he could say it as bluntly as you had, but his nerves made him settle for a slightly veiled confession. “I am glad we are in agreement about that too.”

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lemonsharks · 2 years

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Talkin' about names¹ and one limitation of sans serif fonts:

A. if you are planning to bring a human child of naming age into your household (congratulations! May all your helpful loved ones be like, "I can babymind while you shower and then you can babymind and enjoy some low brain television while I do the dishes and meal prep for the week and take out all your garbage!")

B. or are naming yourself (congratulations! I promise your signature that you're practicing a million times is going to look BADASS! YES this is a perfect opportunity to buy those fancy pens you've been eyeing!)

C. ... just be aware that names with capital i's next to lowercase L's (see what I had to do there to get the capital I and lowercase l to look like different letters?) can cause difficulties with spelling and pronunciation for people down the line since every freaking one uses sans serif fonts nowadays

Then if you still want such a name, you're using it on purpose with the full understanding of what difficulties may lie ahead (hope you like serif fonts and many blessings upon your NEW NAME and NEW PERSON (whether brand new from the manufacturer, DIY repaired, or third party refurbished))

D. Is for digression: if you value your vet/tech/assistants' sanity this also applies to pet names.

Just make their legal name @lemonsharks and call them whatever you want at home! /Joke

Actually don't do that. I absolutely do not want you to be accidentally and unnecessarily denied veterinary care because the assistant running phones thought you had three large bitey cartilaginous pet fish that are beyond their ability to treat when what you really have is two dogs and a bearded dragon all three named after 💖ME💖.

Footnote

Full post, name PSA, footnote 1:

This post is brought to you by I still have no idea what one of my very dearest friend's wallet names is and I realized this as I scrolled through baby name sites looking for a name for my canon Stardew Valley farmer which may or may not be similar to her wallet name. And at this point it's embarrassing to ask. (HIIII FRIIIIEND yes I would love awkward clarification via email)

#loooooooong post #baby names #names #naming #fonts #make better font related choices so people can use the names that speak to theit hearts #original content

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koniginwrites · 3 years

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Lost. (Pro!Hero Overhaul)

This is my contribution to the BNHarem Villain!Au Collaboration. Please go check out the other writers and artists! There’s tons to see from all these amazing creators!!

I’ve also drawn some art to go along with it: There’s a preview below, but you can check out the full version here.

Warnings: Blood. Mentions of death. Angst, but what else is new?

Word Count: 1053

A/N: I strayed away from Character X Reader this time and kept it all internal dialogue. Just thought it would be a lil dash of something different.

Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month. This comes just days after we broadcast rumours of villains running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. Road maintenance endeavour to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before.

Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city?

Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary.

One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.

Through the mind of a pro hero nowadays is a constant battle of maintaining a clean image. One of rationale, healing and peace bringing. To be a symbol as All Might once was. After the downfall of Endeavor due to the villain Dabi, the questioning of heroes in general was at risk.

A current struggling hero was Overhaul, a mysterious man with a powerful quirk. With tons of destruction happening in cities all over Japan, this man has been able to assist in rescuing lives stuck in the crossfire.

While he was previously overlooked for his closed off personality and off standish attitude, he has been working non stop to rebuild the city from rubble and dust. Sleepless hours day and night, he was filthy, exhausted and overworked. He just wanted to rest. Well, not wanted, but needed.

Downtown in Tokyo, he helped fix a small local shop. The old woman who ran it was grateful for his sacrifice and help as her pride and joy was returned to its former glory. But the whispers from bystanders grew as they saw the offstandish attitude of the pro hero.

“He’s so cold.”

“Oh he rejected a hug from that poor woman, just like Endeavor.”

“You wonder if he treats his family the same way as him?”

Surely if the population would see that he was just trying to keep everyone safe, and that he’s a kind and caring person, that they wouldn’t whisper anymore.

He needed to go home.

At home he could be at peace, whether it was cooped up in his office reading a book, or cooking a fine meal fit for someone like himself. Nothing could pull him away from his hidden sanctuary, somewhere in a small suburb. No outside disturbances of television or internet. Only a ring from his agency about an impending disaster.

Well, only an important disaster. He couldn’t be bothered with simple cat rescues, or the occasional house fire. Petty lower heroes should be tasked with such mediocrity. He was one of grandeur morbidity, needing to be the first on site if a massive earthquake came to destroy Tokyo. Or if a giant monster came to stomp on buildings and civilians.

A giant monster… Ravaging through the entire country. Chaos and destruction, blood splattered against crumbled concrete. Masses of fallen structure crushing the people of his home, maybe even some that he knew.

At this point, throughout all the stress and havoc he thought to himself, “Too much.”

It was all too much.

The catastrophe running rampant through the streets, the voices condemning his solemn attitude, and the filthiness he felt upon himself for not caring anymore.

“Diseased.”

After days of working, a small glimpse of rest appeared and he snatched it in an instant. To be able to lay in his own bed and just sleep. “A shower first, then sleep.” He reminded himself.

He cursed himself for hiding away his home in a winding neighborhood. The navigation itself was sometimes too much for him. Maybe he should’ve gotten a driver instead of taking his own car.

Though instead of rowed homes, and well painted fences he was greeted with fires and tragedy.

His own home caught in ruin.

Of distant screams of those around him, spotting him. “Help us! Help my wife! She’s trapped under our house! Overhaul we need your help!”

But at this point, all cries fell of deaf ears as Kai drug his feet up to where his office once was.

Those wails became more demanding, angry even as they shouted up at the pro hero. But Overhaul couldn’t be bothered because his peace was destroyed.

Though a glint of hope sparkled near his shattered desk. He removed his glove and pressed his hand against the splintering wood, reviving the structure. He ran his palm along the refurbished davenport, remembering how everything looked barely a week ago.

He opened the top left drawer. “Pops.” He mumbled. A book laid inside with minimal scratches, ready to be opened and enjoyed.

The first page was opened, dust covered the parchment and he let out a disgusted cough.

Dirty in more ways than one. Covered in sweat, dust and dirt. Lacking care of civilian life, and lacking care for himself.

He succumbed to madness.

#overhaul #kai chisaki #overhaul fic #bnharem #bnharem collab #writing #bnha overhaul #bnha kai chisaki #bnha fanfic #collaboration #collaboration writing

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spencersawkward · 3 years

Text

switchblade faith // spencer reid - chapter 4

summary: one month after joining the BAU, Clea is still settling in. between solving murders and getting acclimated to DC, the only comfortable thing in her life is her friendship with Dr. Spencer Reid.

word count: 3.5k

masterlist

there's a place between the bank of a river and the actual water where the soil is soft. it's more like silt, leftover grains of earth not yet swept away. they're extremely delicate, made up of minerals and rock.

I love the earth. I love feeling it under my feet and the way it gives into my fingertips when they push through the surface. I love when I can sense the twisted roots of every plant. they reach for moisture, thin tendrils. there's something very pure about all of it.

which is why seeing the faceless corpse of a woman splayed out on the banks causes my stomach to wrench.

I guess it isn't the only reason, but it certainly doesn't help.

"the edges of these cuts are smooth, not torn," Rossi straightens up from his spot by her body. I don't know how he can get so close. when he waits for me to say something, my lips purse.

"so he must have used a sharp instrument to remove her face." I cross my arms over my chest. the water in her lungs makes me wonder how much pain she was in, how much it hurts to drown. unimaginable.

the slightly blue undertones to her skin imprint themselves in my mind, and my only thought is that I'm glad her eyes aren't open; I get nauseous when they are. instead of dwelling on the gaunt nature of her body, I speak to one of the crime scene experts about the time of death. his voice is barely audible over the rush of water against stones.

we spend about half an hour exploring the site, although something about this place in particular puts me off. I keep edging towards the sides of the river.

"we should meet Aaron back at the station. ready to go, kiddo?" Rossi catches my attention, beginning to make the short hike up the incline. he walks carefully to avoid sullying what I'm sure are expensive shoes, his face contorted with mild disgust. the nickname makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.

"sure." I turn to scramble behind him, my gaze catching on the scene. jewel-toned leaves heavy with rain, tipping to spill weighted drops in a slow, drowsy fall. and it's now filled with police officers and crime scene experts hauling this poor woman's body to somewhere not so public.

what a world.

we get in the car and Rossi turns the key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life. I sit with my hands folded neatly in my lap; I'm rigid, though grateful, when working with Rossi. it's something I still need to get used to.

"you okay, there?" he asks as we turn out into the street. my eyes turn away from the locust swarm of cop cars that are parked by the crime scene and I take a deep breath.

"yes, why?"

"you're not usually this quiet."

"really?" I deflect. I've never been particularly chatty at times like this. my mind usually gets sucked into what I'm seeing, memorizing every detail against my will for replay later that night.

"I'm a profiler, too, Clea. and a much more seasoned one than you," he glances my way with raised eyebrows. his features are softer than the photos I've seen before this. even the lecture I attended painted him in a different light. I forget how old he is. but his eyes return to the road while he sighs. "I know when something is wrong."

"nothing in particular," I shift in my seat a little. although I'm sure he gives great advice, I'm not ready to share with anyone the dreams that I've been having. "just still getting settled in, I think."

he must notice that I'm lying; I've never been quite good at it, even in front of non-profilers. but Rossi senses the discomfort that I'm trying to hide and nods.

"well, if it helps, I'm going to be having a wine tasting at my mansion once we get back to Quantico. the whole team is invited."

my words get knotted up in my throat as I think on this. "wine tasting?"

"yes. I've got plenty to spare." there's a slight archness to his tone. I smile.

"to be honest, I really don't think I've got the skill set for that," my limbs relax a little. "my experience is pretty limited."

"and you think the others know a lot?" he waves his hand dismissively. we both laugh.

"okay, then." I nod. "thanks, Rossi."

"Prego!" the sudden Italian interjection makes me roll my eyes playfully.

...

our case doesn't take nearly as much time as I expected. with the unsub's narcissism and general lack of intelligence, we catch him rather quickly and are home before the end of the week. there's a collective gratitude for this fact on the plane ride home which takes the form of lively card games and plenty of friendly trash-talking. we also enthusiastically discuss getting together in the evening.

the wine-tasting event that has been so praised by the team turns out to really be just an excuse for everyone to get drunk while draining Rossi's liquor supply. I've had about three different types of alcohol and, beyond the color, I have no idea what kind.

Penelope is pouring more chardonnay in her glass when she offers some to me. I nod, watch the lovely liquid fill up.

"I'd like to make a toast." Rossi announces, much to the feigned chagrin of Prentiss and Hotch. they roll their eyes while the Italian raises a scotch glass into the air. we're in the kitchen, standing around the counter while bantering about our personal lives and past cases.

"keep it short, Dave. I have to head out, soon." Hotch reminds. Rossi gives him a look, but then turns his eyes to me with a paternal affection.

"to Clea," he says, the rest of the team breaking into smiles. "and her hopefully very long career on the team-- if she can stand us."

there's a chuckle that rolls through the group, but then we all clink glasses. even Reid, who has been downing sparkling cider at an alarming rate, taps his flute against mine. I smile at him, at everyone who is now flooding me with questions. I get a happy, bubbly feeling while I drink. Penelope drops her head on my shoulder and mumbles something that I can't quite understand. JJ talks to Spencer about something, his eyes drifting between the contents of his cup and the clock on the wall. he's distracted by something.

"you okay there?" Emily leans against the counter next to me. she's following my line of sight until it lands on JJ and the boy genius. I nod.

"yeah. just thinking."

"about?"

"how it would feel to be this rich." I send her a smirk. she snorts.

"I would love to know."

"how often do you guys have these things?" I peer around at the guests. everyone seems to be accustomed to the behemoth household that Rossi keeps, except for me. and all of it is so clean, too.

"here? only a few times a year. Rossi doesn't like having people over." she says the last part with a laugh, nursing her drink. I cross my arms.

"fair enough."

"I think people are gonna be heading home, soon, though." she checks her watch. I remember how almost everyone here is bound somehow to someone else, a family or significant other or someone who misses them. I'm not tired at all.

"what about you?"

"I have date night plans with Sergio." she grins.

"I didn't know you have a boyfriend." I raise my eyebrows at this knowledge. Emily seems like the type of person to play the field; her settling down with one person is surprising by itself.

"Sergio is my cat," she tells me. "much more cleanly."

"even better." I laugh. we discuss the merits of owning a pet over dating people until JJ decides that she needs to get back to her family. Hotch is heading out, too, and the steady departure stream of guests begins to form. it's not very late and I'd much rather do something else than go home and watch TV, so I survey the room.

"hey, Reid." I find myself standing beside him while he puts on his coat. it's got elbow patches and there's a scarf that he wraps around his neck to accompany it. he peeks at me curiously.

"yes?"

"would you wanna get a coffee or something?" I grab my jacket off the hanger. before he can say no and shy away from my offer, I explain. "I'm just not in the mood to get home right now."

"uh," his eyes dart down to his shoes, then back up at me. "sure. yeah, that would be... fun."

"awesome." I beam. ever since we hung out in that museum in Boston, I've been thinking about how to get to Spencer. maybe it's just because he's been the slowest to warm up to me, but I'm getting more and more curious about him. that moment when he did something playful-- there has to be more of that. and we obviously have some things in common. it might be nice to have a friend like that, someone with whom I can go to art exhibits.

we all thank Rossi for a lovely evening and I'm about to ask if Spencer wants to Uber somewhere when he starts walking purposefully toward a gorgeous yellow car. it's old-- like, 1950's refurbished, old-- and well cared for.

"whoa." I say as he opens the passenger side door for me in a surprisingly courteous move. I slide inside and breathe in the delicious scent of leather and something crisp and sharp. I wait until he gets in on the other side to ask my questions. "is this yours?"

"yes, actually. I got it about a year ago and I don't drive it very often." he runs slender fingers over the wheel, touching it with a quiet admiration. I turn to him in the dark, the glow from his own headlights casting pale shadows over his face as he starts the thing up. it rumbles to life in a charming, old-timey way.

the sounds of the engine defuse the silence between us as we drive into the city. Spencer almost forgets I'm there, the muscles in his wrists and arms relaxing as he handles the steering wheel. I, on the other hand, am painfully aware of his presence.

every time we make a turn, every time his lips part, I start to think he's going to say something. but he never does, and there appears to be no inclination whatsoever. I wonder if I should ask him some random question to get him rambling, but the nervous energy he usually radiates has softened to something more muted.

it's entertaining when he speaks. I think it's also a guard against vulnerability; at least, that's why I speak so much when I'm anxious. I take his silence as a compliment.

finally, he manages to maneuver his way into a parking spot. I glance around the street, not recognizing the place.

"what is this?" I ask curiously. his hand wraps around the stick shift and parks, turns off the vehicle.

"I come here on the weekends." he glances briefly at me before climbing out of the car. I get out and watch him come around to my side. he's only wearing a cardigan over his button-up, which looks surprisingly cozy.

"so, what kind do you usually get?" I ask. we start to walk down the sidewalk, passing streetlamps and small individual trees that are just beginning to go barren with autumn. the restaurants around here are still full of people.

"coffee? black, usually."

"with five or six sugars." I recall, and he turns to me. there's a dimple in his cheek that tells me he's amused by my memory.

"what about you?"

"I like an iced caramel macchiato, or just a latte." I muse. he pulls open the door to a cute corner place with a steaming mug on the logo. it must be exclusive to the neighborhood.

inside, bookshelves are crammed with used titles and people getting a late-night caffeine fix. most of them are glued to laptop screens or flipping through books. it smells warm and delicious.

"do you know what you want?" he asks, drawing me from my observations. I realize that I've been looking everywhere but at the actual menu. it's drawn in curvy chalk.

"yes." I step forward and the barista behind the register smiles at me. I order my favorite drink and am about to ask my co-worker what he wants, but Spencer cuts me off by ordering and then paying for me. I raise my eyebrows as he hands over the crumpled dollar bills, pleasantly surprised.

when we go to wait for our drinks, he shoves his hands in his pockets and doesn't say anything.

"that's not fair." I frown.

"what's not fair?" his voice is distracted.

"I invited you-- I should have paid for both of us."

"it's okay." he gives me a tight-lipped smile. I find myself taking a step close and poking his arm.

"you're so polite."

"thank you." he doesn't know what to do with this information and it partly amuses me.

"so, I know you're from Nevada, but that's pretty much all of my Spencer Reid knowledge." I oh-so-gracefully segue into the topic. our coffees show up on the counter and we grab them before finding an empty table towards the back of the shop. it's in both of our first instincts to seek out the corner spots.

"well, I--" he starts, but then I remember something else.

"and I'm fully aware of your IQ and plethora of degrees, so don't give me that trivia information." I tease. he's looking down at the lid of his coffee. his eyelids are the color of something slightly bruised, and he lets out a nervous laugh.

"what else is there to know?"

"everything." I grin, my elbows resting on the tabletop. it's a small surface, so much so that even leaning forward a little bit gives off an air of intimacy that makes me hesitant. "we're spending a lot of time together, so you might as well tell me about you."

"I'm really not very interesting." it's an easy way to dodge questions and I don't want to push him too hard or scare him away. I just want to be friends, and that can be kind of hard when I don't know the first thing about him.

"I'll start then, if you'd like." I propose with a smirk. he nods and swallows, the Adam's apple in his throat bobbing.

"well, I was born in Atlanta, but I grew up in Montana. my family still lives there, though. I'm a big fan of the Real Housewives of Atlanta, I'm a scorpio sun, and I hate mushrooms." I fight a smile as I list random facts about myself in an attempt to get him to relax. I'm not hoping for him to divulge his biggest life traumas; there's no pressure.

it works. his high cheekbones poke out a little as he hides a smile behind his drink. my eyebrow quirks at his reaction.

"okay, now you have to go!" I prod. he puts his coffee down, though he fidgets with the sleeve on the cup.

"I guess I'm technically a Scorpio, too." he concedes.

"what? no." I almost laugh at the prospect. at first take, he doesn't really align.

"yes."

"what's your moon sign?" I narrow my eyes.

"I'm not sure, actually." this seems to frustrate him almost as much as it surprises me.

"you'll need to find that out if you want to understand your chart better." I shrug, leaning back in my seat. he fixes his gaze on my face as he tries to read the seriousness of my words. I'm only partly joking.

"what's your problem with mushrooms?" he asks instead, prompting my eyes to widen.

"don't get me started!" this time, I lean my elbows on the table. "I just don't like the thought of eating a fungus. and the texture--"

"what about milk, though?" he asks suddenly. I pause, mouth still open as I think on this.

"what about it?"

"is it weird to you that people drink cow milk in the same way that it's weird to eat fungi?"

"I suppose not." my brows draw together.

"lots of things humans do are 'weird'." he puts the word in air-quotes and it brings a smile to my lips.

"you're opinionated, aren't you?" I tilt my head a bit. this side of Spencer is new to me.

"mushrooms are rich in various nutrients and have been consistently used across time and cultures for medicinal purposes-- not to mention the burgeoning therapy treatments now in development with micro-dosing psilocybin." he replies. I giggle.

"big on shrooms?"

"what? no, I--" he gets a little flustered, shifting his sitting position and getting a rosy tint to his cheeks.

"I'm just joking, Reid." I set my palm flat against the table, something of a truce between us. he runs a hand through his hair. I move on. "I think the psilocybin research is actually really fascinating."

"isn't it?" Spencer's features appear somewhat ghostly under the café lights. he's got a sort of unusual face, although that isn't a bad thing at all. it's interesting.

he begins to talk about depression treatments that are being developed from shrooms, gesticulating wildly. his watch glints on his sleeve as he speaks. I notice the pretty arch of his eyebrows and the way he speaks through a grin. his voice has got a soothing quality to it, each word an individually selected puzzle piece. it's clear, low, and a bit filled with a childlike passion.

I rest my chin on my palm as he rambles, occasionally drinking my coffee and adding in my own thoughts. I think that Spencer could go for days if I let him, that he could talk enough to fill the pages of those books on the wall.

I'm not sure how long we sit in the café-- it could be an hour or three. we jump from medicine to philosophy to his obsession with Medieval literature. this, being something I know almost nothing about, intrigues me.

"my mom was actually a professor of it, so she read a lot of those books to me as a kid." he tells me, not even stumbling over the word was. either she died when he was young or she isn't dead at all-- there is no loss in the weight of this fact. I don't ask about it, but I pocket the piece away for later.

"explains the chivalry." I joke. he frowns.

"sorry?"

"your manners."

"oh," he blushes slightly. "she's always romanticized it, I think."

the change in tense tells me she must not have passed. I run my fingertip over the rim of my drink.

"does she live back in Vegas?" I hope it isn't too invasive.

"yeah, she does," his eyes flit between the tabletop and my face. "she, um, lives in a sanitarium."

his willingness to confide this almost takes me visibly aback. he seemed so hesitant to share personal details earlier this evening; something in my chest warms.

"oh," my voice is thick in my throat. I don't know what to say. "I'm sorry."

"it's fine." it's not, but I get not wanting to dive into it.

my intentions really weren't to prod at something that obviously is close to his heart, so I sit a bit straighter in my seat and look around the shop. we're the last people here, the only other sounds from the two baristas and the whir of machinery.

"are you-- do you wanna head out?" I ask. part of me feels no desire to leave. we probably should. it's getting late and I never know how much sleep I'm going to get. the hours for this job aren't steady by any definition of the word.

"sure."

when my head turns back from peering around the café, he's staring at me. I smile, stand up and push my chair in. he follows, both of us throwing our empty cups away before heading out.

it's much colder. a slight shudder runs through my body as we step into the night. involuntary, but Spencer falters a moment on the pavement.

"uh," he clumsily shrugs off his cardigan. "sorry." hands the thing to me.

my cheeks flush in surprise. his awkwardness is contagious, apparently.

nevertheless, I wrap the thing around my shoulders and feel a little better. it's warm. we keep walking in silence back to the car, my head now filling with thoughts that I can't quite sift through.

he's a very nice boy. I start to feel grateful that my craving for caffeine has given me the opportunity to get to know him better. when I glance at him for a second, his head ducking beneath a low-hanging branch of one of the sidewalk trees, he catches me and offers a ghost of a smile.

baby spencer is such a sub I literally can't--

#spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #dr. reid #criminal minds #mgg #fanfic #fanfiction #wattpad #friends to lovers #BAU #slow burn

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architectuul · 3 years

Text

Sail Hejduk, Sail!

The Unfolding Pavilion is an expanding curatorial project that pops-up in the occasion of major architecture events, with an exhibition featuring each time a different theme inspired by the space it occupies, made of commissioned original works that react to it as well as to its cultural and historic background.

Unfolding Pavilion: Rituals of Solitude, 17th Venice Architecture Biennale. | Photo © Marialuisa Montanari / Unfolding Pavilion

In its first edition, the Unfolding Pavilion entered Ignazio Gardella’s Casa alle Zattere on the occasion of the 15th International Architecture Exhibition at the Biennale di Venezia, transforming one of its apartments in a temporary gallery of installations made by some of the most unique authors of architecture-related curated archives. In its second edition, it entered Gino Valle’s Giudecca Social Housing on the occasion of the vernissage of the 16th International Architecture Exhibition at the Biennale di Venezia. In order to do so, it refurbished one of its empty dwellings to convert it into a temporary gallery of works, and use the common spaces of the complex as the poetic backdrop for a three days-long program of public events.

The Unfolding Pavilion 2021 was this year housed inside of the belly of “Il Nuovo Trionfo” - the last authentic Venetian trabaccolo, moored at Punta della Dogana. | Photo © Travelscapes

In this year's third edition, the Unfolding Pavilion popped-up on the occasion of the 17th International Architecture Exhibition at the Biennale di Venezia, inside of the belly of an old mercantile sailboat - a trabaccolo - moored at Punta della Dogana. The trabaccolo once belonged to Countess Luisa Albertina di Tesserata: an eccentric art collector who in the 1970s commissioned the construction, on a small island of the Venetian archipelago she owned, of an almost exact replica of an unrealised project by John Hejduk: the House for the Inhabitant who Refused to Participate. Unfortunately, the house was demolished in December 2020.

Artist impression of the House of Contessa Luisa Albertina di Tesserata. | Digital drawing © Giovanni Benedetti / Unfolding Pavilion

The curators Daniel Tudor Munteanu and Davide Tommaso Ferrando came to know about the house by pure chance, and decided to organise an exhibition inside of its spaces. An agreement was made with the current owners of the island, who were about to demolish the house in order to build a luxury glamping facility in its stead: the house could be temporarily occupied for artistic purposes, but no images of the event were to be published before the demolition took place. It is so that, in the summer of 2020, twelve architects and scholars were invited to spend one week of residency locked inside the replica of John Hejduk’s house. One per room. Each room was equipped with only one piece of furniture, which they couldn't choose. The outcome of the one-week residency were twelve site-specific works dealing with issues of privacy, domesticity and isolation. Rituals of Solitude, the 2021 edition of the Unfolding Pavilion, is the first documentation of the installations made by the twelve contributors during their one-week residency.

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What is the Unfolding Pavilion presenting?

Daniel Tudor Munteanu: The Unfolding Pavilion is always experimenting. We ask ourselves every time what is an (architecture) exhibition and how we can transcend the simplistic format of displaying representations of architecture in neutral white cube galleries. We tried every time to create special experiences for the visitors: such as the experience of being the first people to enter a famous work of architecture, like we did in Ignazio Gardella’s Casa alle Zattere, or the experience of being part of a project that leaves a legacy like we did in Gino Valle’s social housing. While looking for a venue for this year’s edition of Unfolding Pavilion we wanted to explore more into the sensorial aspect of such experiences. Arranging an exhibition inside the belly of an old boat was quite a fascinating idea. A dark, extremely narrow space that smells heavily of petrol and is shaking from the waves of the Grand Canal.

Davide Tommaso Ferrando: Daniel talked about the sensorial part, but there is also an intellectual dimension to it, where we are constantly trying to put in question what an architectural exhibition is. The fact that we don’t choose white boxes is not simply because of the kind of atmosphere of the white box but is really to test the configuration of what an exhibition space can be and what it produces. So we never know what the final outcome will be. Several things that are discovered during the process can become the most important points of the project, so we really engage with reality that is experimental every single time. And then regarding the mediatic side of it, from the moment that we discovered the story of this boat by having an informal conversation with Hesperia Iliadou, we immediately understood that this was the perfect location for an exhibition. Full of problems but a memorable event for the visitors.

What is the motivation behind the whole project?

DTM: It is a way to organize an independent project in the context of big institutions. The Unfolding Pavilion is not related to any institution, so we have complete freedom, which is extremely important for us. We engage into a dialogue about what the institution of the Biennale is and how it functions, and we establish a love-hate relationship with it. We acknowledge the importance of this event in gathering visitors from all over the world, this is the ‘love’ aspect, but there is also the ‘hate’ aspect of the big, often menacing, economic apparatus of the Biennale.

DTF: Each year there are very specific conditions under which we operate and we engage critically with. The first year the condition was the budget as we didn’t have any sponsors we created everything with a total budget of 2000 EUR from our pockets, 1000 each. By choosing not to enter the specific trajectory of investing 30.000 or more money we needed to find another way to solve the problem. The second year we agreed with the city council that we would refurbish one apartment of the housing complex in Giudecca, which we did with a sponsorship from Innsbruck University plus our free engagement. The way me and Daniel are operating is quite consistent, we both started to work independently on our critical projects online on our platforms of communications. We transferred the way of working to the production of architectural exhibitions and we still work in the same way as we both started separately.

DTM: Regarding the institutional critique, as Davide said, in the first edition we reacted to the budget that is associated with making a pavilion in Venice and we defined the rule that we would deal with only one percent of the regular budget (which is about 200.000 EUR), so we made an exhibition with a budget of 2.000 EUR. In the second edition, we consumed almost the entire budget for refurbishing our temporary exhibition space - the apartment in Giudecca - and hence making it again available as a social housing unit for a new family. The ‘Architectural Review’ recently critiqued the fact that an extreme amount of resources go into building these temporary exhibitions for the Biennale, which have a carbon footprint quite disproportionate to their lifespan. For the third edition we asked ourselves - do we consider it a good way of practice to build up an exhibition that lives only for a few days or weeks and is then stored somewhere or even trashed? We decided right from the beginning to design everything as a travelling exhibition and so Venice is only the first stop of this project, which will travel and expand in the near future.

How did you guys meet?

DTF: The very first contact was when Daniel was doing OfHouses and he invited me to curate an edition for it. At the same period I was doing research at OII+ on how people were using Tumblr to produce architectural knowledge so I published an interview with Daniel. The real moment with Unfolding Pavillion started in January 2016, when Daniel proposed to me to organize an exhibition during that year’s Venice Biennale. And I said: “why not?”.

DTM: The idea to organize the independent exhibition came out when I was working on the competition for the Romanian Pavilion. I had some very critical ideas and, while finishing the proposal, I realized that this project will never be selected, because it will never get the approvals from the official bodies, institutions and politicians who want to control the country's image. When you want to communicate a critical message, creative freedom is of the utmost importance. So, instead of self censoring your message in order to win a competition, maybe it is just simpler to organize and finance a ‘pavilion’ by yourself...

Tell me more about the Rituals of Solitude; why did you invent this story?

DTM: The story that accompanies our exhibition is not necessarily an invention and it’s not necessarily a reportage. It is something in between. We acted less like journal editors and more like film editors, mixing and montaging different bits and pieces that are real. The story has several layers, and you may disregard some at the first reading - for example the very real part documenting the accelerated privatization of islands in the Venetian lagoon. In the end, if the story is true or false doesn’t really matter. Did this Contessa actually exist? Some say it did, some say it didn’t. It’s totally up to the reader, because the ‘action’ in the story is more of a pretext for unfolding different themes we were interested in: the enforced isolation, the obsessive-compulsive daily rituals, the propagation of fake news… The story is very much fitted to our current context; for the first time in history the entire planet was faced with this crisis, that meant curfews, isolation, lockdowns, elimination of social life... When we studied the design of a John Hejduk project titled “The House for the Inhabitant who Refused to Participate” we immediately recognized in its facade the typical Zoom interface, where people show their private spaces to others, designing their own backgrounds to communicate their personalities. Our concept was to invite 12 teams to work on the interior space of a similarly “public” kind of room, where to imagine a daily ritual. Each of these 12 rooms was to be furnished by a single item of furniture related to only one domestic function, and this idea was taken from the script that John Hejduk imagined for the House. One room had a toiled, one an armchair, one a bed, and so on. We imagined how it is to live in a room that is specifically designed for one purpose. The new rituals - working in bed, the compulsive washing of hands, the consumption of digital junk food - are some of the responses of the 12 invited contributors.

From the book “10 immagini per Venezia” edited by Francesco Dal Co, Officina Edizioni, Rome (1980).

DTF: The whole narrative and protocol behind the exhibition was a very specific and intentional take on how to conceive an architecture exhibition which deals with the concept of How will we live together? after and during the pandemic without adopting the two easiest strategies, which for us are both inappropriate. The first would be not to deal with the pandemic issue, as the vast majority of the projects shown at this Biennale do - which makes them already a bit outdated in this sense. The second would be to directly deal with the pandemic, having the pretension that architectural speculation can solve the problem, which is ridiculous. What we did was to incorporate ideas and reflections on the contemporary conditions in a diagonal, indirect way. We made reference to a project that has nothing to do with the current situation but still was capable of activating many analogies and correspondences with it. This looked like the only way in which we could deal with this topic. How to not mention the pandemic but still talk about the new inhabiting conditions was a main question for us and this was for us the best possible answer.

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All the exhibited works have been exclusively produced for the Unfolding Pavilion by: (ab)Normal, Aristide Antonas, Bart Lootsma, Cruz Garcia & Nathalie Frankowski (WAI Architecture Think Tank), ErranteArchitetture, Fosbury Architecture, Giovanni Benedetti, James Taylor-Foster & Anton Valek, Fala Atelier, Mariabruna Fabrizi & Fosco Lucarelli (Microcities / Socks-studio), MAIO, Matteo Ghidoni, Shumi Bose & Space Popular and Traumnovelle.

#VAB #unfolding pavilion

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paulstirling1 · 3 years

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Shawn James Goodwin - 7 Things to Ask Your Web Designer before Hire

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5. You should also expect to be asked about what you would like to say on your website, what images or perhaps videos. How would you like your customers to be able to interact with you online? Your designer (Shawn James Goodwin) should steer you towards a dynamic and changing website. They are building your shop-window to the internet so the goods and services you display there must impress your visitors and ideally be updated regularly. Imagine how it would look if Harrods never updated their window displays. If all they had there were a few cobwebs and a dead wasp or two, not many passers-by would call in! There are so many poorly thought out websites out there that would frankly be better off switched off, rather than left to give the impression that a business doesn't care!

6. Which brings us on to: how do you actually update your site? Modern websites are very easy to manage and your designer (Shawn James Goodwin) should be offering to build you one that you can log in to and add new things to whenever you want. The days of having to pay your designer to do every little update are long gone.

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So that's it. I do hope these 'pointers' have been helpful. If you are looking for graphic designing or web designing kindly contact me Shawn James Goodwin.

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akkurajput · 3 years

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pianosoy43 · 3 years

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Expense Of A Loft Conversion In 2021.

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Posted: Fri, 15 Jan 2021 17:49:13 GMT [source]

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Will Residents Get A Price Cut On Their Rent While The Building Is Taking Place To Make Up For The Noise, Dust And Disturbance?

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swingjuly70 · 4 years

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Residence Restoration South East London.

National Organization Of House Builders

Content

Just How The Property Restoration And Also Repair Solutions In London Job.

Rj Repair Providers.

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Insertion of a brand-new framed structure to replace load-bearing masonry, opening floorings as well as enhancing functional flooring area. sign in to your PristineBuild account of space can be liberated in older buildings with this form of alteration, which must likewise enhance the daylighting of inner areas. This work involves a high level of uncertainty and can be intricate to sequence. An extensive development behind maintained facades might likewise be considered as an option to a refurbishment proposition, and might provide higher worth, particularly if the building has noted condition.

Are glass extensions cold?

With a glass extension, you can enjoy the breath-taking views from your living room. The traditional glass offers the same fantastic view, but during summer, the heat will be unbearable, and you might freeze in the cold season. Unlike a conservatory, glass extensions have a consistent temperature and are beautiful.

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For programmers, specialists and contractors with the abilities, unsure market problems will create further chances to deliver value-adding options. Capital and also occupant retention Numerous city-centre systems blend office, retail and also in some cases residential usages, each with various lease terms. Refurbishment options often permit retail to be maintained while upper flooring space is reconfigured.

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Demolitions are consisted of, as are the costs of variants connected to the building textile. Outside jobs, tenant fit-out, professional fees and also VAT are omitted.

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Present plant to the workplace or have actually plants positioned around the office to introduce a hint of colour. Right here are 5 straightforward ideas to assist illuminate your workplace so your staff will anticipate entering the office every early morning. As a design-led organisation we understand the value of great layout in the creation of an optimal working environment.

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What's the average cost of a single story extension?

The average cost per m2 for an extension outside of London is between £1,200-£1,500. In London and the South East, the average cost per m2 is around £1,500-£2,000+. For two-storey extensions, add 50% to the cost of a single-storey extension. If you want to add a bathroom or kitchen, add £5,000-£10,000.

Limited schedule of riser space for ducts might require different approaches to providing fresh air. There are additionally enhanced contact us in dealing with existing buildings.

How much glass is allowed in an extension?

Part L limits the total area of openings or glazed elements, such as windows, roof windows and doors, to a maximum of 25 per cent of the extension's floor area. A small extension with a set of patio doors and a lantern light can easily use up this 25 per cent allowance.

Practicality of dispersing air ducts and wet solutions throughout office floorings. Giving fresh air supply and cooling to satisfy modern-day office requirements.

Cat A prices are really subjective to the existing building infrastructure and also intricacy. This technique offers you one point of get in touch with throughout the jobs, keeping interaction open, simple and also easy. Taking on a workplace fit-out is a possibility for positive service adjustment. You'll find it a terrific means to excite your stakeholders and also improve worker task complete satisfaction as well as efficiency. Whatever your factors, it is essential to have an objective in mind for the workplace fit-out team to get to function.

If your room has a concrete thermal mass ceiling it would certainly need to remain exposed, limiting the capability to add a put on hold ceiling, hence affecting just how lights and also solutions can be delivered in the area. The extra hard surface would also imply that the acoustics will certainly need to be attended to. It may be that a redesign will allow you to make use of the room that you already have more effectively, however there is just a lot an office can take before coming to be overcrowded and also unsuited for purpose. New ways of working have to enable participants of the team transforming throughout the lifetime of the project-- including maybe external workers.

For one, those are the most effective builds both in PvE and also PvP.

@Astrichthyes- Reason I make use of 40 strength instead of 34, is simply due to the fact that I am one to use one handed, two handed combination's with both dex based and stamina based quality weapons.

Having high quality builds are actually tough to keep do to stat factors everywhere or simply neglecting vit or end.

The boosted dependence on dodging additionally indicates you'll require to guarantee your armour is light sufficient to not impair your motion.

Having cw on this kinda construct will certainly just refute having those additional points in streg, dex.

The high quality was beautiful as well as the job was finished within the moment structure as well as really near to estimate.

Concerning having that additional over kill c/w thing it's okay, i wouldn't mind having it on this one, but i would absolutely simply screw up this develop, it simply suits me as is.

An effective task is constantly one in which every person is clear on the assumptions and also requirements needed to make it a full success. The prices in the failure relate to a competitively tendered lump-sum design-and-build contract with service provider's created sections. Fees connect to the second quarter of 2008, based upon a main London location.

Think about just how important energy performance is to the office, and exactly how eco-conscious your firm is. A close-knit group is invaluable when taking on complex obstacles and also makes sure that not a problem is unnoticed.

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