#mot testing courses

[mot-expert]

MOT Testing: Exploring Annual Training & Testing Course Options

As an MOT expert training centre, we are committed to offering thorough training and testing solutions to guarantee the safety and compliance of vehicles on our roads. This article will thoroughly examine the yearly training and testing course alternatives available to people and companies in the MOT industry.

Recognising the Significance of Annual MOT Training

Every year, all cars in the UK are required to undergo the Ministry of Transport's (MOT) test to ensure they comply with safety and environmental regulations. Maintaining current knowledge of legislation, processes, and best practices is crucial for MOT testers to conduct precise and comprehensive inspections.

The yearly MOT training aims to provide MOT testers with the information and abilities needed to perform MOT exams efficiently. Many topics are covered in this program, such as:

Modifications to MOT rules and specifications

Updates to safety features and automotive technology

Appropriate methods and processes for inspections

Identifying typical car flaws

Requirements for reporting and documentation

Communication and customer service abilities

By participating in the annual MOT training, testers can ensure they are offering their clients the best possible service and upholding the integrity of the MOT testing procedure.

Benefits of Thorough MOT Training

Enrolling in full-length MOT yearly training and testing programs has many advantages for industry participants and individuals. The following are some of the main benefits:

Adherence to regulations and compliance:

makes certain MOT testers are knowledgeable about the most recent MOT rules and specifications.

aids in preserving the MOT testing process's credibility and integrity

Enhanced Efficiency and Accuracy of Inspection

Improving MOT testers' capacity to recognise and evaluate car flaws accurately

simplifies the MOT testing procedure, giving clients quicker turnaround times.

It allows MOT testers to communicate and offer better customer service.

increases faith and assurance in the provided MOT testing services

Advantage of Competition

Sets apart MOT testing facilities that make substantial training investments

demonstrates a dedication to professionalism and quality in the field

Enables MOT testers to remain current with technology developments and industry trends.

encourages a culture of ongoing learning and development

Selecting the Appropriate MOT Training Supplier

To guarantee that you acquire top-notch instruction and certification, it is crucial to take the following aspects into account while choosing an MOT specialist training centre:

Regulatory Compliance and Accreditation

Verify that the training provider has received approval and accreditation from the appropriate authorities, including the Driver and Vehicle Standards Agency (DVSA).

Skilled and knowledgeable instructors

Seek out a training facility where the teachers have a wealth of MOT industry expertise together with a thorough awareness of the most recent laws and industry best practices.

Entire Course Curriculum

Check that all required subjects are covered in the training sessions, including both theoretical and practical elements. 

Practical Training Opportunities

To enhance learning, prefer training facilities that provide interactive, real-world training sessions.

Continuous Assistance and Materials

Ask about options for continuing education, technical support, access to updated materials, and post-training support.

Selecting a respectable and knowledgeable MOT specialist training center ensures that you or your staff will receive the information and training needed to succeed in the MOT testing business.

In Summary

To guarantee the safety and compliance of vehicles on our roads, our MOT specialist training centre offers yearly training and testing courses for MOTs. By participating in these extensive programs, MOT testers can improve their inspection abilities, remain current on rules, and deliver great customer service.

Our training programs are tailored to fit your goals and support your professional growth, regardless of your level of expertise as an MOT tester. Invest in your career advancement by selecting a training provider who values consistency, quality, and ongoing development.

[juliapark13]

Jungkook is a real person, not a fictional character. Respect him.

Jungkook is one of the kindest, most lovely, talented and humble people in the world. I totally hate that Jungkook’s personality is being so disrespectfully misinterpreted by many of „his own fans”. Meanwhile their interpretation of him is the exact opposite of reality.

1.

Taekookers with totally distorted point of view think Jungkook is a toxic boyfriend and V deserves better. This photos show exposed conversations of Tkkr’s Twitter accounts with nearly 10k followers.

Meanwhile Jungkook is the best boyfriend ever, someone can only dream of. He is that type of boyfriend who

makes a romantic travel vlog as a birthday gift for you

comforts you everytime you need

looks at you like you are his whole world

always turns his whole body and attention to you when you speak

drops everything and comes immediately when you call him you need him

gets up early in the morning and climbs a mountain to bring you snow because he knows you love it

makes you a bigger pancake

asks if he should cut things for you, because he doesn’t want you to get hurt

grills the meat, rolls it up and even feeds you and also blows the soup for you

writes romantic letter and posts thirst trap as a birthday wish for you

remembers even the smallest things about you

his mom says I love you immediately when she hears you

has the initiales of your name on his ring finger

2.

Taekookers always say Bighit force Jungkook and V to hide their relationship and Jungkook and Jimin to do fanservice. It’s the most pathetic and desperate theory which they miserably need to fit their made up narratives.

Meanwhile Jungkook does what he wants, he can’t be controlled and forced to do something he doesn’t want. It’s something obvious, it’s his personality trait and also other members said it many times. Saying he is Bighit’s puppet and actor totally contradict his true character. When he wants to show us something, he shows it.

The biggest example is the hickey on MOTS DVD. Taekookers say the company would never show something like that, but it’s the exact opposite. They are testing their boundaries as a closeted couple and to get our reaction to it. Moreover if Jungkook and Jimin didn’t want it to be shown, it wouldn’t be on DVD. When you have distorted mindset for years, of course you can’t get something so simple and logical.

3.

A lot of people don’t get how smart Jungkook is. They totally underestimate his inteligence and perfectionism. Saying he doesn’t look at the lyrics of songs he use, he didn’t know what kookminaredating meant when he added that account to his In the Seom club, posting at 23:08 is just a coincidence,…

Meanwhile Jungkook is a genius. He knows exactly what he does and he knows exactly how it looks like. He wouldn’t put J over M if it was for his name or for other members. It’s a fact that is very hard to accept. He wouldn’t do GCFT, or at least whole about Jimin and with that song. He wouldn’t suck Jimin’s ear in front of the 60k people. The „bite” wouldn’t be on DVD. They wouldn’t sing But I still want you instead of And I still want you even it was just Jimin’s lyric. All those things are deep and statements. They are both showing us what they are and it’s up to us if we accept that.

Nonshippers and anti shippers always dismiss them and downplay any possibility of them being more than friends. Saying we are delusional and we make them uncomfortable. Meanwhile it’s only them who are uncomfortable because they also see it, but they are ones who can’t accept it. It’s not about us imagining, it’s about us not ingnoring and paying attention.

4.

Jungkook is a f***boy and a player. This is the most disgusting misinterpretation of Jungkook’s personality. Because he has tattoos, piercings and wears black clothes and it’s all you need to label him like that? It’s not funny even if some people write it as a joke.

Meanwhile there is a lot of proof Jungkook is in a long-term commited relationship with 1 person. But people will keep ignoring it.

A lot of misinterpretation of Jungkook’s character comes from the delusion and obsession with something which is not real. Those people are drown in their made up lies and false narratives and they aren’t able to see the truth. Jungkook said he monitors everything online. I only hope he doesn’t see all the trash there. But sadly maybe he does and that’s why he uses social media less and less.

[hammyham-o-o]

Le test FitnessGram™ Pacer est un test de capacité aérobie en plusieurs étapes qui devient de plus en plus difficile à mesure qu'il avance. Le test de stimulation de 20 mètres commencera dans 30 secondes. Faites la queue au départ. La vitesse de course démarre lentement, mais s'accélère chaque minute après avoir entendu ce signal. [bip] Un seul tour doit être effectué à chaque fois que vous entendez ce son. [ding] N'oubliez pas de courir en ligne droite et de courir le plus longtemps possible. La deuxième fois que vous ne parvenez pas à boucler un tour avant le son, votre test est terminé. Le test commencera au mot start. A vos marques, préparez-vous, démarrez.

ARRÊTE, COMMENT AS TU CONNU QUE MA CLASSE DE GYM ÉTAIT EN FRANÇAIS?? 😭😭😭

I can still remember the voice so clearly 💀

I actually loved the beep test tho, I think 108 was my record? :P

[unicornsaures]

Le test FitnessGram™ Pacer est un test de capacité aérobie en plusieurs étapes qui devient de plus en plus difficile à mesure qu'il avance. Le test de stimulation de 20 mètres commencera dans 30 secondes. Faites la queue au départ. La vitesse de course démarre lentement, mais s'accélère chaque minute après avoir entendu ce signal. [bip] Un seul tour doit être effectué à chaque fois que vous entendez ce son. [ding] N'oubliez pas de courir en ligne droite et de courir le plus longtemps possible. La deuxième fois que vous ne parvenez pas à boucler un tour avant le son, votre test est terminé. Le test commencera au mot start. A vos marques, préparez-vous, démarrez.

anon..did..did you just send me the fitness gram apcer test script in french.

[moonysfavoritetoast]

Le test FitnessGram™ Pacer est un test de capacité aérobie en plusieurs étapes qui devient de plus en plus difficile à mesure qu'il avance. Le test de stimulation de 20 mètres commencera dans 30 secondes. Faites la queue au départ. La vitesse de course démarre lentement, mais s'accélère chaque minute après avoir entendu ce signal. [bip] Un seul tour doit être effectué à chaque fois que vous entendez ce son. [ding] N'oubliez pas de courir en ligne droite et de courir le plus longtemps possible. La deuxième fois que vous ne parvenez pas à boucler un tour avant le son, votre test est terminé. Le test commencera au mot start. A vos marques, préparez-vous, démarrez.

same dude

[theressomethinghappeninginparis]

So, it's eh- complicated.

Trust me, shit's not on fire, but I have more contact to Luddick than I ever wanted, I found the Strahov and I know how to get there. I'm still not sold on blackmailing the reporter since he got caught in this...unfortunate mess on accident, but I have no choice. And I will surely not get back to Paris without solving this mystery. I am locked in my hotel room and shoved the cupboard in front of the door and shut the blinds. Hello paranoia!

Transcript of the first and second page: I contacted Luddick and it went as expected, he's furious over my threat and I really did not intend to upset him this way. But do I have a choice? He said he would call me, I will wait until he does so. He did, and fed me information that can be considered secret shit again.

What I gathered in the call: - Vasiley had ties to the Madia and owned something they wanted. They "set the Montrum on him" - The corpse was not to be found since said mafia cleaned all uo and the evidence is mostly gone - (in the middle of his gibberish I suggested to myself to look for the woman who talked to him for infromation) - He knows who Bouchard is, mot much detail, and is oblivious to his death - aaand I should never call him again and the Strahov won't let me in anyway.

What I gathered is not much, but it raises -of course- even more questions. New information is that if the Monstrum was set on Vasiley it was an assassination, and I think I know now the Monstrum is related to Eckhardt for sure, and the woman he talked to has to be Lara Croft, who he probably got into the Strahov. New questions that have risen are how to get into the Strahov without raising suspicion and if the mafia-plot is a cover up for The Agency or are they the same or related? That would tie all to Eckhardt. There's supposedly a Sanitarium in or close to the Strahov, is that my way in? And, Boaz might have had her own place to work at, but did her coworker Grant Muller, too? Is there a botanical research facility?

Transcript of the third page:

Hahaha, you won't beleive it, even if I teleported you to see for yourself. The oldest Sanitarium in Prague is located UNDER the STRAHOV. I don't think that's a coincidence. So there's of course not much to fing on the whole building, who operated it or what the institution behind it was; all I got is this:

it's not even 23 years old, yet was abandoned and it not used anymore

it was built by an unknown party, yet financed by the Argentinian government (Boaz!)

it used to be a place to stay, including a cafeteria, rooms for entertainment, a medical facility and a research area

there were not only Czech people there

it has 8 floors, all being cellars and the eighth is the lowest, where the people lived

there's even a pool for swimming classes

and after an incident it was shut down and never oficially used again.

So it's...a lost place, right?

Transcript of the fourth, fifth and sixth page:

There used to be several parts of the institute that were used accordingly. The overview is as follows:

Dining Room; used as a cafeteria. All patients were to gather and eat together. The food was usually something easy to process and handed by the staff. The tables were for groups only, so no one would be left out. Laboratory; Filled with a lot of paperwork and shelves with information. The patients which required therapy in person were talked to and the notes were analyzed for better treatment. The files were printed (back then that was cool) and categorized. Also, the individual prescription of any of each person was noted among the process of their recovery. Testing Room; A room to evaluate a patient's condition and character. There was a lie detector to not allow contradictory information on the patient's condition, as a huge amount of information on their health is gathered as today via person-to-person evalation. Acupuncture Room; A place to relax and get some Chinese acupuncture. In a lot of medical conditions it is known to bring relief without actual pharmaceutical drugs. The patient would lie on a bed or semi-bed and relax, then one would select the place according to the pain on the body and get punctured by needles. Sometimes the relief came immediately, sometimes one had to redo the treatment every so often. Acupuncture is known to be relatively gentle to the body and psyche. Morgue; When people lived int he Sanitarium and died due to age, rarely due to illness, they were kept int he morgue after death. It's basically a lot of fridges on the wall where bodies are kept fresh until a pathologist would check on the cause of death. Later an undertaler would be called to pick up the dead and contact the family to schedule the burial.

So far, so normal. Not sure if all of the 8 floors contain the same rooms or if they have more specializted floors that have all of the basic rooms. There used to be a visitor's entry which is now closed, you can only enter if you pass the Strahov. Great. I have to find another way...what if there os another way in? I need to check if Muller has his own facility, liek Boaz apparently did. They surely wouldn't use the same place. Could this have been hers?

Transcript of the seventh and eighth page:

I have tried to get in touch with Luddick again, but he doesn't answer. He has yet to update his socials and there is no new article or post by him. It's been a day and a talkative guy like him would not just disappear. He'd love to yell at me at the phone. Where the hell is he? I have aquired an ID for the medical center (which is being sold at the black market for urban exlorers) which should open me ways in, shouldn't it? I sketched a map of the center and my plan to get in, in case the doors are still to be used. If not, I might have to use force, or...something.

My path so far: I'll try to get in and update my way.

UPDATE 1: I just had to cross some loosely made barricades. The doors to the reception room were open. UPDATE 2: My security card worked! It's such a silly thing to say, but it opened. I'm pretty sure this is part of the urban exploring. I'm heading downstairs and there's dust and spiders everywhere. They surely made this look cool. UPDATE 3: I could use the lift, and I prayed to five different deities since this place is running on stolen electricity from somwhere. There was a door labled "The Biodome", I'm still contemplating whether or not to use the lift further down. I stopped since it started making weird noises. UPDATE 4: The electricity is down! I have no idea if that was my mistake. Thank god I haven't t puched the lift again, but I also cannot go back now. I mean...this place is being explored usually, so someone will find me, even if I cannot use the lift now. But maybe the Biodome is the place I'm looking for?

I can hear nothing specifically, it feels like the room after the door is enormously large. Sometimes I think leaves are rustling? I'm contemplating moving further in, or starting to panic and scream my lungs out. But if the Strahov is near I might as well be shot on sight.

Yeah, I'm eating a cereal bar and considering my options. I wish I had someone to talk to. It's getting lonely here.

[coolcattime]

Home and Free: Chapter Three - That's Not a Nightingale

Characters: Captain Capsize, Sonja Firefox, Skipper Redbeard, Jordan Captainsparklez, Tucker Jericho, Tom Syndicate, Martha the Mystic, Mot Screziato, Alyssa Countybat, Waglington, Farmer Steve, Prince Andor, Jeriah, Lady Ianite (mentioned)

Relationship: Captain Capsize/Sonja Firefox, Captain Capsize/Jordan Captainsparklez (onesided)

AO3 Link

Full Story Tag

There were still a good few hours before the sun was due to set as Redbeard was hooking up their horse, Phillipe, to the cart that he had now safely loaded up. Enough light left that the first leg of the journey would be doable, but also close enough to dark that he knew Capsize would worry. It was silly, he had made the journey enough times to know that it was safe, and she was the one that plotted his route so surely, she knew in her head that it was safe and straightforward, but still every time she worried. Since he couldn’t exactly stop her from doing so, he had taken it as a positive, a sign that she truly would miss him if he disappeared forever, rather than her just thinking he’ll get himself into trouble in even the simplest of situations.

“We’re not going to get into trouble, are we boy?” He said with a laugh to Phillipe. He could swear as the animal snorted, it was actually sighing attempting to respond in opposition. The traitor always agreed with Capsize, and frankly he thinks she bribes him. Though, of course, that was silly. Their horse didn’t really have a complex opinion on the two, but Redbeard spent enough time alone with him that he possibly personified him a little too much. That did pose the question as to why he thought he typically agreed with Capsize rather than himself, but he was going to use his better judgement and not think too deeply about that. “Bit of a bigger load than last time. Shouldn’t be too heavy for you, but we’ll figure out more rest stops if it is.”

He took the whinnying as approval as he tested that the ropes and straps attached to the harness were properly secured. He wanted to figure out a few more rest stops anyway, for when he and Capsize could finally move from this town. There would still be the possibility of her not being able to ride for very long, after all. Her leg had been healing well, she rarely needed the pain relief tinctures anymore and she clearly walked more than she had in the first few months after the accident, but he had some doubt that she’d be able to ride for as long as he typically did between rest stops. So, even if that was just a feeling, he'd need to figure out a few more stops for the route, even if just for a temporary pause rather than a camp. And figuring it out on the next few trips would be far preferable to having to do it while travelling with Capsize.

Thinking of Capsize, he wondered how her task had been going. While retrieving the sellable items from the cellar that they had been using as a workshop, she had been at her worktable tinkering away at the lockbox, occasionally muttering what he was sure were curses under her breath. Of course, he’d tried to assure her she didn’t need to fix it, but she’d batted him away with a playful reassurance of having it handled. And, of course, he had no doubts that she did, but he would need to leave soon. He didn’t want that to be without probably saying goodbye, but he had a half-hearted worry that if she was not finished, she may try and insist he stay until she was. He honestly had no idea if this was a situation where her stubbornness would win out or her logical side of not wanting him to either be late or travel in the dark would, nor if he’d have the heart to argue with either decision. But he couldn’t just stand about waiting for her to possibly emerge.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” He said to Phillipe, who seemed overall neutral about the man walking away. The horse was already paying far more attention to the sparse grass on the road. Redbeard walked off the road onto the small path in their garden that looped around their house to the cellar door. However, he would not actually make it inside before his attention was caught by a call.

“Redbeard! Glad I managed to catch you!” Jordan called out from the bottom of the path. He had cleaned himself up since his late morning meeting with Capsize. Though he still carried his bow, he had sold his prey of the day, no longer carrying them from his belt, and he had also changed most of his clothes. The only thing he was wearing from earlier in the day was his long red coat, which he was rarely seen without. Yes, from his clothes to his hair to his general stance, Jordan had put enough into looking good at this particular moment. He hadn’t fully dressed up, this wasn’t his proposal after all, but he looked far more cleaned up than he typically would in the late afternoon. Redbeard noticed the oddity and was unsure what to make of it as he approached the man. He certainly got along with the champion far better than Capsize, but he couldn’t help but be slightly weary considering his sister’s words about the man earlier in the day.

“Well, you got here just in time,” He said, well-practiced in hiding uncertainty beneath a smile and a good demeanour. For Jordan to want to see him right before he left town, it was unusual but not out of the question. Typically, he would see the man more casually, going to the tavern for a few drinks, but he did on occasion see him before leaving to ask for things from the city. Despite how the champion seemed quite happy within the town, he, like everyone, occasionally wanted things unavailable in such an isolated place and Redbeard was more than happy to bring them up for him. But he didn’t think that was the current reason for him being here. He looked, somewhat uncharacteristically, nervous. “Must be something important, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look nervous.”

“It’s pretty important, yes,” He said, wishing his nerves were not so obvious. He had no reason to think this wasn’t going to go his way, and yet he couldn’t shake them. The siblings were extremely close, that’s the reason he was doing this, but it also meant if this went wrong his chances with Capsize could be snuffed. Though, of course, that wouldn’t happen, he just needed to get the words out. “I’d… I’d like your blessing to marry Capsize.”

“Huh?” He almost thought he was hearing things because the request had come out of absolutely nowhere. And worse, as it dawned on him that he had in fact heard correctly, he had no idea how he was meant to respond to the request. He liked Jordan well-enough, from what he could tell he was nice enough, and he certainly didn’t want to upset the lad, but he also knew his sister couldn’t stand him. She avoided saying so through words, skirting the issue as best she could, but she was not a good liar. Her, what he was going to charitably call annoyance, shone through every time she talked about the man. Yet, somehow, he wanted to marry her. Had he just stepped into another universe? “You want to marry Capsize?”

“Yes! I’ve never met a woman as perfect as she is,” Redbeard barely managed to hold back a laugh, not wanting to disparage the man who seemed to be expressing genuine feelings. But his description of Capsize versus her own of him a few hours earlier was tickling. Of course, it was less funny considering she had occasionally complained of him not seeing her as a person, and his description of her as ‘perfect’, but he tried to quell that concern as each one just misunderstanding the other. Still, he had no idea how exactly he should respond. He could give his blessing, but as soon as Capsize found out she’d be pissed, which was something he didn’t particularly want to deal with or found particularly fair for either party. Jordan could feel his hesitation, setting a worry in him that felt wrong. There was no reason he could see that he would say no. He’d built a friendship with him, not hard when he could get discounted drinks at the tavern, and even he had to be able to see how perfect he and Capsize were for each other. “I’ll treat her as brilliantly as she deserves, she’ll never want for anything. I just, I can’t imagine being with anyone else.”

“I’m not doubting that I just… Well, I’m not going to stop you. If you can get Capsize to agree, obviously you can marry her,” Redbeard felt like that was a pretty big if given that she barely wanted to talk to him, let alone enter a committed relationship with the man. However, Jordan’s face lit up and he felt a twinge of guilt. Both men had a very different vision of how a proposal to Capsize would go, and though neither knew what the other was thinking, Redbeard could not imagine Jordan was picturing the sort of disaster he was. There was absolutely no way she was going to say yes, that was so clear to him, but he didn’t exactly want to say that. It felt undermining to his sister to say what he thought she would do, even if he was sure he’d get an earful of complaints from her later. Also, he was leaving so he didn’t have time for a half an hour conversation explaining to Jordan that Capsize didn’t like him.

“You won’t regret this! You’ll see when you get back, we’re going to be the perfect couple!” Jordan said, forgetting he had ever been nervous about the situation. He had her brother’s approval, which meant he didn’t need to worry about any sudden rug pull after the man returned that would sour the start of his marriage. He had to start preparing the proposal, make it as great as Capsize would expect from him. So, he rushed off, intending to see how Tucker was coming along with his side of the preparations.

Redbeard, now left alone walking back towards the cellar, contemplated if he had just made a massive mistake. He didn’t want to say no. He both didn’t want to start an argument and didn’t particularly want to act like he could forbid his sister from doing something, but he felt a little like he had taken anyway her scapegoat for whenever she was confronted by the proposal. Maybe, he thought, he should warn her about it, tell her before it was a shock. But what good would that really do? She’d just get annoyed, since she certainly wasn’t going to feel able to confront the man about it, and she was already routinely stressed enough. They certainly weren’t currently in a relationship, so if they weren’t even dating, so he assumed that a proposal had to be a while away. Plenty of time to warn Capsize and get her prepared for that disaster once he got back. He had no idea how wrong that assumption was.

Before he had time to think any more on the situation, the cellar doors opened in front of him, Capsize emerging with a smile. He could only feel relieved that she had not exited half a minute earlier, as he could not imagine how that would’ve gone. Yes, he decided, perhaps against his better judgement, that he was going to keep his conversation with Jordan a secret. No point souring their last few minutes together for the next few weeks. He much preferred leaving on a positive note. And she looked happy, how could he spoil that? The reason for the joy on her features became clear as day as in her left hand she held up, wrapped in a semi-transparent fabric, was the lockbox.

“You fixed it!” He said, not intending to sound so surprised. She fixed trinkets all the time, it was literally her job. However, she had never done it so fast, nor on something quite so explosive, but that wasn’t a reason to doubt her abilities. If she ever got such a notion from him, she wouldn’t appreciate it. Not that he would dream of doing such a thing, she was far more competent than him and he was quite okay with that. He knew the moment they were out of this town, she’d be in charge of the market stuff too, and he was honestly just looking forward to her being the captain again. It was not that he particularly minded being in charge, he just felt like it should be Capsize.

“Pretty sure I have! Just leave the fabric on, I think the glyphs are resetting when they’re touched,” She said as she handed it over to him carefully. She couldn’t say for sure that was the problem, magic was mysterious and annoying after all, but it was her best guess as to why the object had decided to once again explode that morning. She almost wished she had more time to figure out the mechanics, almost. Mostly she was glad to see the thing gone. The twinge of sadness as she handed it over was not due to losing the box, but rather the fact that this was it. He was leaving for another three weeks. Obviously, he’d be back, and it would be faster than she expected, but she never quite got used to being alone, to this town where it seemed that no one really understood her nor wanted to.

“Well, I’ll do my best to find someone who wants the devil box,” He said with a laugh, attempting to hide his own sadness about leaving. He didn’t need to show that, it was better to not make her worry anymore than she was already going to. He appreciated her worrying, it meant that she missed him, though she always claimed it was because she didn’t like him being alone with his run of luck. But he knew it was because she missed him, after all she trusted the routes she planned to be safe, she just didn’t want to admit such a thing. Not that he had ever asked, but he could tell these sorts of things, some people just had their feelings written on their face. And yes, he was correct. Capsize knew she was going to miss him dreadfully and the worry was coming in waves with all the possible reasons he might never return circling through her brain.

“Have you got everything?” She asked as the two began to walk towards the cart. She knew she didn’t really need to ask the question. As focused as she had been on the lockbox, she hadn’t missed him carrying the boxed-up trinkets and furniture pieces out of the cellar. And while there was now a tarp covering the loaded-up cart, she knew from a quick look around herself before exiting that he hadn’t missed anything. She just wanted him here a little longer, and that was the only thing she could ask. He didn’t need to change as he had packed his nicer clothes for when he arrived, and he had on a thick enough coat for a journey that would take him through autumn nights, the long green one that he had had for so long yet still didn’t look worn despite everything. And she sincerely doubted he had forgotten to pack the saddle bags currently on Phillipe.

“Of course, but I can check again if you’d like,” He said, knowing that a couple of checks had never done any harm. Capsize, however, quickly shook her head.

“No, I trust you,” She said without any hesitation in the statement, though her words still sounded a little unsure. She wanted him to not leave for as long as possible, but logically she knew such a thing was silly. There wasn’t time to keep him here to recheck everything. While there were still a good couple of hours until sunset, that still meant a good portion of his travel through the woods would be in darkness, she didn’t particularly want to make that longer. Though she hadn’t travelled in them, the most she had done being travelling to them and back on days when she truly couldn’t stand being in the town anymore, she was sure there was something wrong with those woods. She couldn’t exactly investigate that feeling, she was typically walking, and the journey there and back already made her leg burn and complain, and she also guessed that she shouldn’t investigate such a feeling, but it bothered her. It felt like staring into a haunting, being so close to something impossibly and unexplainably dangerous. And, of course, everyone knew about the predators in there. As much as she hated listening to Jordan talk about his hunting, he’d mentioned enough that she knew that there were dangerous animals, even if they typically minded their own business. That, though mundane, was enough a reason itself to want her brother in there for as short a time as possible. “Just make sure to stay on the route. I don’t trust the woods.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of letting the terrifying monster in the woods get me!” He jokingly mocked as he unbuckled and lifted part of the tarp to find a place for the last item. He only chuckled more at Capsize mildly annoyed sigh. She was too superstitious by half, which never failed to amuse him. Superstitions were expected of sailors, and heck he had some of his own like still wearing the amulet bearing Lady Ianite’s symbol meant to bring safe waters despite having been years now since he’d been on them, but in this situation there was really no reason for her to worry. He’d been through the woods enough to know they were perfectly safe. The road was well used, and the predators had little reason to bother people when there was easier prey already in the woods. Honestly, he saw absolutely no reason to fear the journey. As he found a free and secure spot and began resecuring the tarp, he saw in his peripheral vision her approach Phillipe, who of course greeted her with a cheerful whinny, the absolute traitor.

“When my brother gets himself got by a monster, you come and find me, so it doesn’t get you too. Alright Phillipe?” She said with a gentle rub of his neck. Redbeard laughed quietly at her words, wondering how he’d rank compared to the horse. He could almost hear her joking that Phillipe was practically family if he ever asked such a question, but she would be joking at least, he hoped. Well, at least if for whatever reason he was attacked by a bear or something, the horse will miraculously have understood what Capsize was telling him and get her assistance.

“I’ll await your rescue from the bear’s den!” He said, far too loud but neither of them cared and they devolved into laughter. For the briefest moment, they both forgot that they were about to be separated. As he walked around, to her and the horse, and less literally towards leaving, the laughter quieted. When they were next to each other, she gave him a soft smile, pulling him into a hug.

“Come back safe, okay.”

“I wouldn’t dream of anything else,” He said, softly and without a doubt in his mind. Everything was going to be fine, there was no reason to believe otherwise. As they parted, Capsize looked more stoic, biting her worries down and trying to look like she was focused on business.

“I told Jeriah you’d get him a couple bottles of liquor.”

“Easily done. Any personal requests?” He hoped she’d have a few, though she typically didn’t. He knew there were things she wanted, things that would help quell her boredom, but she never actually asked for any of them. Well, he’d figure out gifts for her even without her direct requests, it would just be nice for his sister to admit she wanted something.

“No, I’m fine.”

“Well, if you insist. So just a bit more alcohol than usual and a rose,” He said with a smirk as he saw Capsize’s nose scrunch. Eventually continuous buying her the flower would get old, but that was not today.

“You’re the worst,” She said with an amused shaking of her head, smiling despite her words.

“I know,” Redbeard said with a chuckle as she climbed into the saddle. He was glad, as always, to part with a joke and a smile. “See you in three weeks.”

🌹 🌹 🌹

Hours had passed, night having long since fallen as Redbeard had unexpectedly come to an impasse. Having reached a fork in the road, he held his map close to a lantern, but not as one might suspect to check which way he was supposed to travel, as he knew that perfectly well. It was rather that the way he was meant to travel was blocked by a fallen tree which he had no chance of getting past or moving. So, for the first time he was studying the map beyond his sister’s carefully marked route, hoping that the other direction would, at some point, join back up to his usual route. He didn’t particularly want to have to plan out a full new route, especially as it would most certainly be much more roundabout than Capsize’s, but he was fearing that might be his only choice. It was with a shaky hand that he traced along the map, following the unknown fork to see exactly where it went.

The path he traced didn’t make sense. It appeared to be completely superfluous, just a longer route to the next fork he would hit after this one, with only one branch with the long road itself, where the other path led to a dead end. And it was a much longer route, going far into the woods before returning to the original road. He bet it would take an extra hour, but he couldn’t complain at actually having an accessible route. As much as he was confused by the existence of such a thing, at least he now had a path forward.

“Come on, Phillipe, let’s get going,” He said, folding the map and putting it into his pocket, knowing he’d need to reference it again before he found his way back onto his usual route. As he guided the horse towards the unblocked path, Phillipe hesitated for a moment. He had to admit, he also had some hesitations about the path as it certainly looked in worse repair than the usual one, disregarding the tree of course, but he didn’t exactly have much of a choice. He gently patted his neck. “I know, it looks bad, but the sooner you move, the sooner we’ll be back on the normal path.”

As if understanding, the horse began to move again, turning onto the unfamiliar path. Slowly, but at least they were moving.

It didn’t seem all that bad at first, as it seemed just as a less frequented road through the woods would, bumpy and filled with an uncomfortable sense of foreboding as Redbeard couldn’t quite be sure of the direction being correct. But he had felt the same on his first journey through the woods on the normal route, it was just a fear of getting lost while being none the wiser. And that was how it seemed for the first ten minutes. However, the further in he travelled, the more the pit in his stomach grew.

The trees started to get wilder, none of them blocking the path, but branches hung down and jutted out at odd angles that felt like they were grasping out for him. Without leaves, he almost mistook them for fingers and claws despite how nonsensical such a thing was. A bitter rain had begun to fall, not heavy enough for its impact to hurt, though the cold certainly wasn’t pleasant, but it did obscure his vision. He could barely see beyond the small circle of light illuminated by his lantern. That was a worrying problem as, if it didn’t clear up by the time he reached the turn, he wouldn’t be able to check the map to make sure he headed back to the main road rather than down the dead end.

Worse, as he tried not to dwell on his nerves of possibly heading in the wrong direction, he became acutely aware of just how little he could hear. With the noise of Phillipe, the cart, and now the rain, he could barely hear anything, and if there was one thing you didn’t want while in the woods, it was both limited vision and hearing. He didn’t exactly fear much from the woods normally, he knew them well enough to know the few places he needed to be careful. But here, he felt vulnerable and that was only made worse by having such limited senses. Because, as much as he always mocked the idea of getting into trouble on the journey, he was sure he could hear something moving.

He knew he was being ridiculous, just giving into his fears and that it wasn’t good when he was already on edge, but he could swear there were things moving through the overgrowth of the trees. He felt like he needed to hear, to know what was approaching. And he found himself straining to make out any hint of a noise or sight of what was lurking in the darkness. Because he was hearing something, some movement through the trees, low growls that made his heart race. Even if it was sure to be his imagination, he was hearing something.

A howl pierced through the noise, far too close for comfort, others joining from further away. How many were there? He felt his heart racing as he realised he was in the middle of a pack. Of course, it wasn’t exactly common for them to attack people, but that wasn’t comforting him when they were so close. It was odd, despite all his actual knowledge, it was as if he knew in his gut that he knew that he was not safe this time. A feeling unfortunately proven true when a wolf leapt out towards him, barely missing its mark.

“Shit!” He whipped the reins, Phillipe quickly breaking into a run as he too did not feel like getting torn apart by wolves. Having strained to hear before, Redbeard now felt as though he could hear nothing but the wolves hot on their tail. He needed to stay ahead of them, he didn’t have time to think or second guess. He had no idea how long Phillipe would be able to keep up a full sprint, he just had to hope it would be long enough for the vicious animals to lose interest.

His mind rushed through the ways he could deter the animals, so much so that he barely noticed the fork in the road ahead. He forced a turn quickly muttering apologies as Phillipe barely managed to turn while actually remaining on the road. He had no idea which path he was now travelling down, the one leading back to the usual route or the odd dead end. It was not as if he had the time to check such a thing and it likely didn’t matter anyway. He was still hours away from a rest stop, away from light or other people that might scare off the pack. Unless he could think of something himself to scare them, this was purely a game of stamina. What chance did they really have of winning such a contest?

The further they were chased, the more the path grew unseemly. It felt as though they were travelling over terrain so uneven that the cart could fall or break a wheel at any moment. The trees seemed to become brambles, thorns sticking out of the branches that were stretching ever closer to the road. All the while the rain fell, the intensity increasing and making it ever harder to guide the panicking horse to make sure he didn’t run headfirst into thorns. There should’ve been no way he should be able to outrace the wolves, he knew that even as he desperately tried to flee. But that was not the only impossible thing that happened over the next few moments.

As the plant life suddenly peeled away into a far more open area, the wolves skidded to a stop. They whined, and quickly fled seemingly for no reason. He tugged on the reins, slowing their speed as he tried to calm the still spooked horse. Redbeard looked back to try and figure out what might have caused such a reaction from the wolves, and it was then he realised he had not ridden into a natural clearing. Consumed by some of the brambles were a rusted gate, forever stuck open but apparently still acting as a barrier as none of the wolves’ paw prints passed where it would stand if it were shut. Confused by the oddity, he rode forward a little more, not feeling completely safe to dismount yet. And then, even through the rain, he saw that this was not merely some gated clearing, some overgrown private garden, as ahead of him stood a castle. A castle that for some reason was not marked on his map. Why would such an estate not be marked? What kind of oddity had he stumbled into? He had no idea if he should be weary or grateful for the possible shelter. He settled on the latter, if only since he would prefer not to be out in the rain while waiting out daybreak.

He slipped off Phillipe, taking a hold of the lantern and going to unbuckle him from the cart. He’d come back and put him in a stable if this place had one and the owners let him, assuming this place had owners. It didn’t exactly look occupied, with the state of the overgrown plants and the rusted gate, but it also didn’t look abandoned. The building looked strong, no sign of it being left to disrepair despite that clearly being true of the gardens as large thorny bushes stood overground throughout. He almost hesitated to let Phillipe wander on his own, in case he stumbled into one, but he had at least a little confidence in the animal to not wander into danger.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” He said, as if such reassurance would mean anything to a horse. Yet he did find it necessary to say, as if he was actually reassuring himself that he would re-emerge from the building.

As he wandered closer to the castle’s imposing doors, the lantern illuminated one of the bushes. Unlike what he had assumed, they weren’t just barren brambles. In fact, he almost laughed despite his dire situation as before him was a rosebush. The thorns surrounding him were filled with the flowers that he sought out to annoy Capsize. Honestly, he’d never seen such big flowers this late in autumn, most had wilted by this month. What he was looking at was far nicer than any he would get at the market this time of year, and perhaps for most of the year. He felt for the small knife in his pocket, carefully reaching for one of the flowers while avoiding the thorns. He knew he shouldn’t do this, that he’d need to come up with some excuse if this place wasn’t abandoned, but how could he not want to take such a beautiful flower back home? With the cutting technique he’s learnt from the old flower seller at the market, it should last for months as all the others had, so there wouldn’t be a worry of it wilting before he got home to Capsize. Surely the owners would understand and if they didn’t, he could pay for it.

As the flower separated from the bush, he pulled a handkerchief to wrap the stem, and with the flower now in hand, he walked up the steps towards the entrance. He reached up, knocked as hard as he could to be heard over the storm, only for the door to creak open upon his touch. Had he really hit it that hard? He must’ve done, but it felt odd that his mere knocking could’ve caused such heavy wood to shift. But, not wanting to spend another moment in the rain, he headed inside despite such uncertainty.

The room before him was by far the fanciest he had ever been in. Even with the darkness he could tell such a thing. Though it seemed as though it was not too taken care of, with dust floating in his lantern light, clearly this was a grand place. He felt lost, more so than he had outside, as he stood in the quiet entrance hall, wondering if another person had been in here for years.

“Hello?” He called out into the darkness, his voice travelling through the building. He was acutely aware of how much power someone who resided in such a place would have. Though if there was someone of such power so close to the town, he surely should’ve heard of them, so it seemed more likely that the place was just abandoned. But then he heard it, quiet but most definitely a noise. Someone or something was in this building. But how was he meant to confront such a fact when he was not supposed to be here? He strayed a little closer to the noise, hoping he could figure out if it was being made by people. “I was chased by a pack of wolves through the woods, and I don’t think I’ll be able to find my way back to my normal route through the rain. I was hoping I could have a place to stay until morning.”

There was silence at first. In fact, for long enough that he almost thought he might have imagined the noises originally. Maybe he was just still on edge and imagining things. That wouldn’t be impossible. However, as he stood in the darkened room, he saw a dim light from one of the doorways. That wasn’t there when he walked in. Someone was here. He took a cautious step towards it, hearing hushed conversation as he approached.

“Don’t you dare! The amount of trouble we’ll get into!”

“Oh, come off it, she’ll never know!” He heard a man reply to a woman. He hesitated for a moment, not wanting his presence to cause anyone any problems. He’d be happy to sleep in a stable if staying inside would cause them trouble, but he hesitated to speak when he was eavesdropping. Maybe he should just call out again in general? However, before he could do that, there was a noise that began to approach him, but it was not one he would say it sounded like footsteps. It sounded more akin to Capsize’s cane hitting the ground, a single object hitting the ground as opposed to multiple. He wasn’t quite sure what could be making such a noise without anything else accompanying it, after all he heard voices that should mean people so there should be footsteps. However, when what was making the noise came into view, Redbeard stumbled backwards slightly, dropping his lantern in disbelief that he was seeing something blatantly impossible. “Of course, you can stay here! We’d be more than happy to host you! You’ll never have stayed in a nicer place!”

“Errrr…” What all that could escape from him. In front of him ‘stood’ a candelabra, one beautifully carved from gold to look like a man in finery holding two candles with a third sat on his head. To carve such a design must’ve taken tens of hours, but that was not the focus of his mind. Rather the fact that he moved and spoke. The candelabra spoke. If Redbeard had been a more cautious man, a more logical man, he likely would’ve fled at such a sight. Yet, his mind did not bring him fear, but rather a question he had often found himself asking. “Am I drunk?”

“No! At least not yet! I’d be more than happy to find you a fine vintage while you dry off,” The candelabra answered the rhetorical question, his offer and general welcoming nature putting Redbeard at ease despite how he was literally talking to a piece of furniture. He wondered briefly if he had hit his head at some point, and this was merely some fantasy cooked up by his dreams after such an injury, but he decided that even being able to consider such a thing likely meant it hadn’t happened. And if he was stuck in a dream, hopefully he’d dream up some nice booze. Before he could laugh at his own thought, and accept the offer he really couldn’t refuse, an ornate table clock approached.

“No! Thomas do not give this man any alcohol,” The clock, apparently the woman he had overheard, said. She too looked incredibly well made, with wood he guessed in the dim light to be hawthorn embellished with silver inlaid into spiral engravings. He could see a winding key on her back, though he had little idea what it was for as, while her face had painted features that were looking intensely annoyed at the candelabra that he guessed was Thomas, it lacked any actual clock hands that would need to be wound. And she was annoyed, not that Tom ever knew her to have any other emotion, because letting this man stay was going to end in disaster. She knew it would. How could it go any other way? But Tom didn’t just want to stay quiet and let the man leave, because why on earth would he actually listen for once?

He was not the only person not listening to the clock at that moment, as Redbeard had begun to look in fascination. For one object to talk, that was slightly terrifying, but more than one and he had clearly stumbled into some place enchanted. He wished more than he ever had on any journey that Capsize was with him as this place would give her enough excitement to almost make up for the amount of boredom she'd spent her time in the town experiencing. He only got drawn out of his thoughts when the clock he was staring at started trying, despite clearly lacking the ability, to shove him back towards the door.

“It was very nice to meet you, but you really can’t stay here.”

“If I can’t stay in the castle, could I at least stay in a stable or an outbuilding? Just until the storm clears, so I can drive off the wolves if I need to.”

“Well, I suppose if you’re quiet that—”

“Oh shush, you Mystic busybody,” Tom said, getting her away from the man simply by beginning to shoo as his flames got uncomfortably close to her. This was the first person that had come here in years, he wasn’t about to let this golden opportunity slip out of his hands. What Princess Fluffles didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, and what she did know might fix this whole situation if they played their cards right. “Please, right this way sir. No point sending you out into the cold without drying off first.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate it,” He said, deciding not to question the hospitality when he was beginning to realise just how soaked he was. He followed ‘Thomas’ as he gestured towards and then hopped into a room. He didn’t know what he had stumbled into, this place where furniture talked, but that wasn’t any reason to leave. With the way the storm was progressing he was going to lose time on the journey from needing to dry his clothes wherever he rested next, doing so in a castle just seemed like a nice option.

As the two men disappeared into the next room, the clock followed after a slight hesitation. She needed to at least try and stop this. She’d come up with a way to persuade the man to leave, hopefully without returning with a mob. However, as she followed, she didn’t notice, as the two men hadn’t, the figure lurking in the shadows on the landing above. Far bigger than any human, just watching and quietly seething at the trespasser in her castle.

As Tom entered the drawing room, the fireplace roared to life. Redbeard looked in amazement, wondering what it took for a place to have magic to just react to a presence. The small amount he had seen from the trinkets Capsize repaired always needed to at least be touched, but this didn’t even need that. He could’ve never imagined actually seeing such a thing. But he had also never imagined being ushered towards a chair by a talking candelabra so perhaps he needed to stop being surprised by comparatively mundane things. Before sitting, he shrugged off his coat, realising with a little annoyance that the rain had soaked through and into his shirt. What would he have done if he hadn’t found shelter? He grateful took the seat by the fire, the warmth as welcome as it ever could be. With the man clearly relaxing, Tom decided to start work on his master plan.

“See, much better than a musty old stable. Is there anything else you need? Food, drink?”

“My horse is still out in the rain. I’d appreciate him being given shelter.”

“Of course! We’ll give him shelter, get him fed and watered. Martha, make yourself useful will you?”

“Why on earth should I help a trespassing thief?” The clock said, eyes locked onto the rose in the man’s hand.

“Oh, come off it, no one cares about those bushes,” Came a new voice as a small plant pot hopped into the room. She spoke with a younger cadence than the clock and the candelabra, though Redbeard wasn’t sure if that at all made sense, and looked less ornate, just a simple brown clay pot with facial features carved in, but that was more than made up by the number of colourful and beautiful flowers growing within. Much like the roses outside, most of the flowers were certainly not ones currently in season, but that was the least of the oddities about this place. He appreciated being defended, mostly since he couldn’t exactly put the rose back now, he’d already cut it from the bush. The clock glared at the plant pot. How did none of them see that they needed to get this man out? The plant pot thought little of the glare, instead getting as close to the man as possible. “I can get you something nicer if you want, the rose bushes have taken over most of the garden but there’s still some other flowers growing! I bet there’s enough for a bouquet still if you--”

“I know you’re excited, but don’t leap up at the man Alyssa,” A snuffbox said as he came into the room, a little slower than his daughter. Similar to the candelabra, he was crafted from gold, though at least half of him was embellished with green crystals. Much like the other furniture pieces, he had facial features, though they were more hidden among the design than any of the others’ were. On his lid was a coat of arms that Redbeard didn’t recognise, which was not out of the question, he wasn’t exactly the most knowledgeable on such things, but certainly could be of note to the castle he also hadn’t heard of the existence of.

The snuffbox himself was more excited than he was letting on. How could he not be excited about the first person he’d seen in gods knows how many years? But he worried about his daughter jumping up in such a way. She was fragile. He was always scared she might crack or break, and what such a thing could mean if they ever fixed this curse. Tom decided to spin the caution once again towards the obvious end goal here.

“Yeah, Batty, you don’t want to jump up and crush the rose. How can you help him craft a beautiful romantic bouquet if you ruin the first flower?” Tom said, knowing Alyssa would stick her tongue out or shove him if she could. Redbeard almost immediately laughed at his words, not meaning to but unable to hold back the reaction given how far from reality the idea of him wanting a romantic bouquet was. The candelabra smirked. This was a good sign. He hopped forward, thinking about how to phrase his next question without scaring the man off. “Is it really that funny? A handsome guy like you not into romance then?”

“Well, I’m not against it, but the rose is for my sister,” He was pretty used to the questions about if the roses he brought were for a sweetheart back home, though they still made him laugh. He was less used to being called handsome. He didn’t exactly think he was unattractive, but unruly ginger hair and heterochromia with one bright green and one deep red eye hadn’t gained him many compliments. If he weren’t currently talking to a piece of furniture, he’d assume he was being flirted with. He supposed he shouldn’t write that off, but he had no idea how such a relationship would work. If they weren’t made of metal, Tom’s eyes would’ve lit up at the mention of a sister.

“A sister you say? Is she interested in romance?” He asked, being far too forward for the taste of everyone else in the room, but he would not receive an answer. Before Redbeard could question as to why he could possibly want to know about his sister’s relationship status, loud footsteps began to approach the room.

The fire began to flicker and shake as if a great wind was whipping through the room. It made no sense, as the air was still and even if it wasn’t magic fire shouldn’t be affected by such a thing, but that was what made it all the more uneasy. The furniture fell silent, the clock not slipping the ‘I told you so’s that she had on her lips, instead just hoping the Mistress would pass by, that the trouble she had predicted would not come to pass. Redbeard knew something was wrong, obviously anyone would at this moment. He stood cautiously, taking his coat in hand as he did, almost sensing the upcoming need to flee.

By the time the footsteps stood outside the door, the fire had completely blown out, alongside Tom’s candles. There was still some dim light remaining, from the embers and a tiny amount from the outside, but that did little to light up the figure that threw open the door. It was large, large enough to block the entire doorway if it were not currently on all fours. From the size, he would assume he was looking at a bear, grizzly or bigger, but the build was wrong, not to mention it had horns. Whatever he was looking at, it was not a normal animal, and it was growling at him. He didn’t dare move. No one dared to move except the snuffbox.

“Why is a stranger here?” The Beast growled, Redbeard trying not to react to hearing it speak. It spoke with a woman’s voice, though one that sounded as if it had not been used in many a year. The snuffbox approached with caution, knowing how quickly this could go wrong. He could not allow the Beast to be harmed, but at the same time he couldn’t let her harm an innocent traveller.

“He’s just an unlucky traveller, seeking shelter from—” A growl cut him off as he was stepped over by the Beast that he was trying to reassure. How long had it been since she had listened to him? Even before the curse, her doing so had been happening less and less. But who wouldn’t try in such a desperate situation? She approached Redbeard, who tried badly to disguise his nervous steps back. Was it too late to take his chances with the wolves?

“You are not welcome here,” She growled as she stalked closer. He could see a little aside from a basic outline, but he could hear claws scraping against hardwood with every movement of her limbs. He had never felt so vulnerable, been in a situation where it was so clear that he was prey. And he knew he had to flee, to get out of this place while he had the chance. But he wasn’t sure if he even had a chance anymore. She was blocking the doorway, to get out he’d need to pass her. And what chance did he really have of that?

The next to approach the creature was the clock. She was already annoyed that the others had allowed the situation to progress this far, she was not about to let something even worse come to fruition.

“Yes, I told everyone as much, and this is precisely why I was about to escort him out! If you’ll just—” She was cut off by a much louder roar, barely getting out of the way before the Beast batted at her, a giant pawed hand swiping through the space where she had been. Redbeard barely held his nerve at the sight, at seeing the terrible thing that could soon be aimed at him and seeing perhaps his only hope at escape dashed. And now, the attention of the Beast was completely on him.

“Who are you? How did you find your way here?” She was close enough to grasp him now. A single wrong move and she would have him.

“I’m just a merchant, my usual route was blocked so I took another one and it led here,” His usual way with words and excuses were nowhere in such a situation as there was no excuse he could muster. If the truth that this was truly an accident didn’t save him, then what could? He tried to further back away, but he had no way to get away from the Beast now she was so close. Maybe if he tried to run? But he was sure that such a creature would be faster than him. Another step back caused him to stumble slightly, not enough to fall, but enough for his amulet to shift out from his shirt. She growled at the sight of it.

“You came looking for the Beast? She sent you to stare at the great monster?!” She would not believe this to be some accident, not when he wore the symbol of that goddess, of the one who cursed her into this form. No one came here, no one had since the curse had begun. But now one with that symbol came through the doors and she was meant to believe he had just stumbled across the place?

“No! I don’t know what you’re talking about! I swear I just came here looking for shelter!” For once, Redbeard was not lying or exaggerating. He was far too scared for any of that. Yet, it was also this moment where his words were being disbelieved more than any other in his life. His desperate pleads fell on deaf ears, the Beast took a hold of him by the chest. He dropped what he was holding, attempting fruitlessly with both hands to pry to claws off himself.

“You want shelter? I’ll give you shelter!” For a moment, she held him close to her face, and he saw everything. He saw the Beast’s face bared in anger towards him, and he felt more terror than he had before in his life. But there was no way for him to escape. He could only struggle and beg for mercy as the Beast half-carried, half-dragged him out of the room. She would not let him go. She wouldn’t let him escape. As she left with the terrified man in tow, she slammed the door closed, leaving the furniture in the darkness, the only sign of the man’s brief time in that room an abandoned coat and rose.

Outside, still in the rain, the horse heard the roars. As any animal would, it spooked, running out of the rusted open gate and back towards the safety of home.

[ernestinee]

La fierté du jour, parce que sans ça, c'était une journée plutôt bof.

6 mois pendant lesquels j'ai fait les questions et les réponses.

Petit bonhomme de 4 ans qui consulte pour "une hypospontanéité du langage" avance son pédiatre. Et ça pour être peu spontané... Il est carrément mutique. Aucun son ne sort de sa bouche, ni avec moi ni les enfants de l'école ni les enfants de la famille, ni ses parents. Par contre, il comprend parfaitement tout ce qu'on lui dit, il est très observateur. On le croit autiste.

Les vérifications d'usage sont faites : QI non verbal, audiométrie... Rien à signaler, alors on me l'envoie. Je ne le crois pas autiste, je demande aux parents de post-poser d'un an le testing propre à l'autisme. Décision difficile pour eux, qui étaient déjà en phase d'acceptation, mais je n'avais pas perçu les petits indices familiers dans les troubles du spectre autistique, et en plus, le moindre diagnostic d'autisme fait disparaître toute possibilité d'obtenir une aide financière de la mutuelle.

6 mois à faire des jeux où il suffit de désigner, des jeux où le langage n'est pas nécessaire pour communiquer, bataille, mime, foot, de quoi favoriser l'air de rien la mobilité des organes phonateurs (mimer la grimace qui a disparu parmi toutes les cartes-grimaces), la gestion du souffle (course de plumes à travers le bureau, très-mini-foot en soufflant sur une balle de ping-pong), et l'imitation d'un rythme (au cas où il se mettrait à répéter des mots, sait-on jamais)

Puis un jour, il s'exclame. "J'ai gagné !"

Émotion difficilement contenue, d'avoir entendu sa petite voix. Ce n'était pas parfaitement articulé mais je l'avais compris. Ça avait été spontané, ça avait été prononcé avec l'entrain adéquat (ça me permettait de presque supprimer une crainte liée à la pragmatique), ça avait été prononcé en conscience. Ça n'était pas sorti tout seul, il l'avait au fond de lui, il avait voulu le sortir et lui seul sait le long chemin que ça avait fait, de son cœur à sa bouche, en restant coincé sans doute un bon moment dans la gorge. Tu sais comme quand tu veux dire un truc mais que ça ne sort pas.

On a continué les jeux sans langage parce que ça lui plaisait et que je ne voulais pas brûler les étapes. Le "j'ai gagné" est sorti plusieurs fois. Ainsi que des petits rires oralisés, puis des onomatopées. "Et bim, t'as perdu" me dit-il un jour.

Puis un jour il a couru dans les escaliers pour arriver dans le bureau avant moi et il a pris un jeu dans l'armoire. Tout fier, il me montre un jeu de familles. 7 familles d'animaux avec papa, maman, frère et sœur. Tout fier, il mélange les cartes sur la table, il me regarde de son air interrogateur, sans rien dire, je réponds "5 cartes chacun et une pioche". Il distribue. Mon lapin moi je veux bien jouer à ça mais il faut parler un minimum, ça ira ? On dit juste les noms des animaux, ok ? Il acquiesce.

"potam" "chat", "quoi ça ?" (C'était un morse), "orss", "nousss", "phant", "chon", "nou" (hippopotame, chat, morse, ours, éléphant, cochon et grenouille).

Je ne l'avais jamais autant entendu parler. Il les a tous dits, il s'est révélé être fin stratège et savoir comment tricher. Petit à petit, il a su demander "papa nou", puis "papa renou", "papa grenouille", "je voudrais papa grenouille", "je voudrais le papa grenouille". Pareil avec les autres animaux.

D'autres jeux ont été utilisés pour développer son vocabulaire et enrichir ses phrases.

Puis la lecture est arrivée et il a détesté donc on n'a pas lu "ok chou écoute tu fais ton maximum à l'école en lecture et moi je ne t'ennuie avec ça que si c'est nécessaire". Il lit super bien du coup.

Après deux ans de prise en charge, on se rend compte que le niveau est encore trop bas par rapport aux enfants de son âge. Il avait alors 6 ans, exprimait le vocabulaire de base mais souvent sans le déterminant, et n'utilisait encore que des phrases simples. Pas de flexions liées au temps, au genre , au nombre, évidemment pas de voie passive ni de phrases relatives ni même de mots-liens. C'est normal, on est partis de loin.

J'ai eu peur pour les futures analyses de phrases, la grammaire, la conjugaison, l'orthographe liée à la logique. J'ai fait des tests plus poussés et posé un diagnostic de dysphasie. En gros, une mauvaise gestion profonde du langage. Ce qu'on reformule mentalement lorsqu'on apprend quelque chose, il ne le fait pas. Il doit apprendre sans passer par cette case de ré-encodage.

Le travail se poursuit avec lui, une heure par semaine. Avec l'arrivée des phrases plus complexes, apparaît un bégaiement. Tu vois quand tu as trop de choix et que tu ne sais pas quoi prendre, et que tu prends tout en vrac. Bah lui c'est ça dans sa tête quand il veut raconter un truc génial. Ça bug, il répète plusieurs fois le même mot, l'articulation souffre, les mots arrivent dans le mauvais sens et il faut lui dire de respirer et de s'organiser.

Ça fait maintenant 5 ans qu'on bosse ensemble, en équipe lui et moi, il sait que je le comprends quoi qu'il dise (j'ai fait semblant longtemps), ça le rassure, ça le calme, ça lui enlève la pression de devoir se répéter.

De temps en temps, je lui demande d'amener un jeu qu'il aime. Le but est qu'il m'explique les règles. Les règles des jeux ont l'avantage de forcer le cerveau à être organisé.

Aujourd'hui, pour la première fois, il n'y a eu aucun bégaiement quand il m'a expliqué les échecs. Non seulement il a expliqué, mais il a répondu à mes questions, construit des phrases solides et longues pour m'expliquer en quoi ma stratégie était mauvaise. Quand je dis longues, c'est du style "Alors là si tu fais ça, t'es sûre que je bouge mon cheval, je te bouffe hop, et puis tu n'as pas le choix de bouger ton roi puisque tu n'auras plus de défense par là, et à tous les coups je gagne parce que t'es nulle aux échecs voilà, on peut pas être bon en tout"

Voilà, c'était R. aujourd'hui, l'un de mes dysphasiques après 5 ans de prise en charge.

Et il a bouffé mon roi avec son cavalier, j'ai rien pu faire. Mais je suis fière de nous quand même.

[mot-expert]

MOT Northampton: Get Tested or Become a Tester with Checklist & Courses

Need an MOT test in Northampton? We've got you covered! Get a checklist & find approved test centres. Want to become a tester? Explore our MOT testing courses & launch your career!

[richardsmith89]

[stardustshimmer]

Le test FitnessGram™ Pacer est un test de capacité aérobie en plusieurs étapes qui devient de plus en plus difficile à mesure qu'il avance. Le test de stimulation de 20 mètres commencera dans 30 secondes. Faites la queue au départ. La vitesse de course démarre lentement, mais s'accélère chaque minute après avoir entendu ce signal. [bip] Un seul tour doit être effectué à chaque fois que vous entendez ce son. [ding] N'oubliez pas de courir en ligne droite et de courir le plus longtemps possible. La deuxième fois que vous ne parvenez pas à boucler un tour avant le son, votre test est terminé. Le test commencera au mot start. A vos marques, préparez-vous, démarrez.

P

[blackbird0blog]

Void Contract (Naruto SI)

Uzuki Yuuto was content to serve his village as a career chuunin manning an insignificant outpost on the outskirts of Konoha while exploring the wonders of chakra. He stayed far away from The Plot and was happy about it. Then, he accidentally stumbles across Uchiha Itachi and Hoshigaki Kisame, and his easy life as an unnoticeable grunt comes to an explosive end.

“You’re hovering, nee-san.” I tried not to sigh.

Laid out on my bedspread was the entire sum of the ninja gear I’d collected over the years, ranging from ordinary kunai and shuriken to the more unusual ninja wire and trap making tools. A tent, sleeping roll, rations packs, and many pills of various purposes were also scattered across the sheets.

My purple haired sister checked the equipment for the third time.

“I just want to make sure you have everything. This is your first time being deployed, mot shinobi don’t properly prepare the first time.”

“I know, you’ve said this before,” I said patiently. “But those people are suckers who don’t have storage scrolls, so I won’t be one of them since I’ll be taking everything.” I pointed to the white waterproof cloak lined with fur. “I’m even taking my snow gear, and you know I won’t need it in Fire Country in the summer!”

“You’re right, you’re right. I’m probably overreacting, it’s only border patrol.” The young woman calmed herself and finally allowed me to begin sealing everything away. “But still, what if that awful man makes your life at the outpost difficult?”

“Oshiro’s a dick,” I agreed, shoving stuff into their places with puffs of chakra smoke. “But he wouldn’t go so far as to sabotage me on a mission. And even if he was that kind of guy, he doesn’t have the pull to do it. It’s just border patrol, and really, some field experience would be good for me. Plus, you know I’ve been meaning to test out the effectiveness of my God’s Eye seals, so it’s a win-win for me. Actually, it’s a win-win-win since I also don’t have to see Oshiro’s face.”

My sister scrunched her nose up at the name of my supervisor. “He’s just a washed-up has-been who’s jealous that you’re better at his job than him,” she said spitefully.

“You’re biased, nee-san.” I rolled my eyes but didn't hold back my grin.

Yuugao wrapped me in a tight hug, one which I returned. I had nothing but the greatest respect for my older sister who had scarcely been a genin when we lost our parents in the kyuubi attack. She had raised me alone since I was four, and though I was undoubtedly one of the best-behaved kids in the world, it hadn’t been easy for her.

“But really, what did you say to Oshiro that made him lose his temper this time?”

I made a face. “We were arguing about which sealing ritual we were supposed to use, and I knew a tri-pronged seal would be best. He’s an idiot, so he thought we should use a pentagonal sealing ritual instead, and while sometimes that’s better it really wasn’t for what we were trying to do.” I waved the details away because they didn’t matter. What mattered is that I was right, Oshiro was wrong, and the seals’ effectiveness had proven that.

“And well, I may have called him a moron of the highest degree who couldn’t unseal himself out of a wet paper bag. And that the one true miracle in this world was that he hadn’t blown himself up yet.”

“Yuuto!”

The sound of my sister’s scandalised exasperation made me grin, and although she looked at me reprovingly, I could see a smile of her own she was trying to hide.

Border patrol was actually a nice experience. It was good to get out of Konoha, to run through the trees at a speed that I had never dreamed was possible a lifetime ago. The outpost itself was small but well maintained, and although I had to bunk with three other guys, I didn’t mind. I was incredibly productive that first month, setting my God’s Eye sealing framework to report any sentient being within my range.

Of course, to account for summon creatures, I had to include animals within the scope of beings detected. This resulted in a lot of false alarms where the seals pinged every time a bird left its nest, a squirrel shuffled, or a badger farted. Most of my time not patrolling with a senior chuunin was spent refining the definition of ‘sentient being’ in my seal to exclude regular animals. The importance of the minutia in the wording was why I considered each seal to be akin to a contract.

If you wrote in something illegal or impossible, or if you broke a contract there would be consequences – consequences which varied depending on the circumstances. That was why seal failures were always extremely varied and very interesting.

It was on a very ordinary day a month and three days into my assignment that I got yet another strange notification.

I looked up from the figurine I was attempting to carve, groaning, because what the hell? “My seals are telling me a man and a shark are moving through our border, quite rapidly too.”

My assigned partner didn’t even glance up from his magazine. “As far as sealing failures go, that’s pretty bad, kid!” he guffawed. “I’m not sure if that’s worse than the time you thought an army was invading and it turned out to be a fallen tree disturbing a wasp’s nest.”

I blushed at the mention of that disaster, but also frowned, because I was sure I had fixed everything. Which meant, what? Who carries his pet shark with him when illegally sneaking across the border? Was it a smuggler?

“I’m heading out. Sector D3.”

“Sector D3, roger. Send up a flare if you need us, you know the drill.”

Technically I wasn’t supposed to patrol alone, but it wasn’t our official patrol shift. There were six of us at the border and we each pulled eight hour shifts so there was always a pair out running the route. Small groups of shinobi could easily sneak past, but that wasn’t what we were here for.

We were here to stop any slow-moving civilians smuggling contraband, be available to assist incoming Leaf teams in distress, and act as advance warning for any armies that might want to enter the Land of Fire. Of course, armies had only encroached in Fire during the First and Second Shinobi War, and a surprise army meant someone in Intelligence had seriously dropped the ball.

When I arrived in sector D3, my seals reported the man and his shark slowing down, obviously having sensed me coming. I couldn’t see them which was both an issue and a huge warning sign I should have noticed, and I blame my lack of field experience for what I did next.

“Look, I don’t know what you’ve have been smoking, but you do realise there are easier ways to smuggle your pet shark into Fire Country than trying to sneak past border control, right?”

I stared, unimpressed, at the empty space where my seals told me they were standing. Said empty space promptly shimmered, and I felt my heart stop.

“So much for no one being able to see through your genjutsu, Itachi!” Hoshigaki fucking Kisame laughed, lifting his wooden kasa from his head, grinning his pointed teeth at me meanly. “And who are you calling a pet shark?”

The other man – Uchiha Itachi!! – did not speak from beneath his own hat.

If bad luck and lack of field experience got me into this situation, stupidity was entirely responsible for everything else.

“Well. You are awfully large for a pet.” I hated myself. What the fuck was wrong with me!!??

I remember very distinctly that I didn’t feel any fear at that moment. The surrealism of the situation was so extreme that my mind hadn’t been able to process their sudden appearance, much less the implications. Even if I had wanted to, I never got the chance to apologise for my mouth getting away from me, because in that moment Kisame decided to stop me from talking ever again.

I couldn’t even see him move.

Instinct saved me and just like the thousands of times my sister had attacked me with her own sword, my hand came up to intercept Kisame’s, seal on my palm activating.

Yuugao and I had practiced this risky manoeuvre countless times because it was so dangerous.

The seals on my palms were storage seals, but I called them my momentum cancelling seals because that was what they did. Any weapon flying at high speed could be safely stored away in another dimension if you activated the seal at the right time. It didn’t matter how fast it was going or how much force it had, it would just go straight into my pocket dimension. My own version of an ‘ultimate defence’.

Of course, every technique had a weakness, and mine relied upon me being able to react to the incoming danger in time to get my hand up and activate the seal.

I was hit with... a lot of rubber balls. My reflexes were one of the two field skills I had trained extensively, compared to my lacklustre throwing skills and pitiful number of ninjutsu. From rubber balls, Yuugao and I upgraded to kunai and swords, and finally ninjutsu.

The result of all that training meant that when Kisame swung Samehada at me, I successfully intercepted it with my activated storage seal.

A shrill, rattling shriek fill the air and Samehada exploded into pieces, scales flying everywhere and fleshy lumps falling to the ground.

For a moment we all stared in shock at the gory mess that had been the most dangerous sword of the Seven Swordsmen. Kisame was left holding only the tattered remains of the yellow scaled handle.

Ordinary storage seals were only meant for non-living matter. Body scrolls worked because they were for bodies, corpses that no longer contained charka. If you tried to seal a living thing into a storage scroll, it would do absolutely nothing.

But my seals weren’t your ordinary storage seals.

I had custom designed them very specifically for attacks. The wording I had used had been ‘damage inflicting thing’. I know, it doesn’t sound specific at all - that’s what made this seal so powerful. I couldn’t use ‘weapon’ because that excluded all the other weird things ninja liked to use. It would also exclude ninjutsu, and to do that would be foolish. So, I needed something that would allow me to seal all manners of weaponry, random objects that people could potentially throw at me, and ninjutsu.

Thus, ‘thing’.

However, Samehada is a damage inflicting thing, but it’s also alive. It has a chakra network. My seals accepted that it was a damage inflicting thing and thus should be sealed. My seals also knew it was alive and thus could not be sealed.

The result – the seal simultaneously tried to seal and could not seal Samehada, ripping the sword into chunky gore.

“Void contract,” I breathed into the stillness. I had accidentally written in something that was impossible, and thus the contract had been voided and the seal failed. As far as seal failures went, this was the luckiest, most successful failure I could have had.

Of course, now I had to deal with the consequences.

The Monster of the Mist turned his gaze to me, and in that moment, I knew terror.

“You’ll regret that, boy.” He snarled and lunged, enormous blue hand lashing out.

It was my sister’s training which saved me once more. Before I had even graduated the academy, she made sure I mastered the substitution jutsu. No hand signs, instantaneous and reflexive; I avoided death by a hair’s breadth once more.

I didn’t bother to run. I wouldn’t be able to mask my escape well enough that these two would miss it, and they would undoubtedly catch me. I flickered further away through the forest, replacing myself with logs as quickly as I could to gain some distance.

Then Hoshigaki Kisame unleashed his chakra, and the whole forest erupted. Birds fled from the trees, rabbits from their burrows, and foxes from their dens. The wildlife scattered like a monster was in their midst - and there was.

Itachi still hadn’t moved.

Perhaps Kisame wanted to kill me himself, perhaps he didn’t want to move against a Konoha ninja. Or maybe he was casting genjutsu.

Chills shivered down my spine and I immediately unsealed a piece of equipment that would be my ultimate trump card in this fight.

It was my greatest work. I had gotten a Hyuuga to map the entire chakra network of my brain – all those hundreds of tiny capillaries that twisted about inside my skull. This seal was my chef-d'oeuvre, my opus magnus, my masterpiece. When activated, it released miniscule jolts of chakra into each and every capillary in my brain, disrupting every genjutsu in existence. It was crafted specifically for my brain and mine alone.

It would do this continuously for three minutes, after which I would be risking permanent damage.

If this seal was known, it would undoubtedly be labelled an S-rank technique and would deserve a spot in the Hokage’s Scroll of Sealing.

I put the tin hat on, the black ink on the inside of the foil hidden from the world.

The Tin Hat Seal was a joke I had thought up because it was both useful and funny. I was meaning to tattoo the seal to my scalp, but I hadn’t worked up the courage to do so yet. So I put it on the inside of a tinfoil hat because at the time I was making it, it was hilarious. I had never hated my past self so intensely before. So much, for so many things.

Kisame didn’t give me any planning time at all. I had scarcely placed my tinfoil hat upon my head when he appeared, barrelling through the trees.

“Water style,” he growled, the murder in his eyes practically tangible. “Exploding Water Shock Wave!”  

A scroll was whipped out of my pouch and I had it unravelled and wrapped around the lower half of my mouth in an instant. I must have looked completely ridiculous; my tin hat covering the top half of my skull and a paper scroll the bottom. I stuck the edges of the scroll to my face above my nose and below my mouth with charka, cutting myself off the outside air and began breathing the air I had sealed. Just in time as an enormousexpulsion of water erupted from the Kiri ninja.  

I tried anchoring my feet to the ground, but was tugged free as I was battered by the flow of water that very quickly rose to cover my head. Still, the volume of water grew until I was trapped in the middle of a football stadium sized dome of liquid that towered over the trees.

This was insane. The sheer amount of chakra…

I suppose Kisame thought I deserved the full treatment for destroying Samehada. Lucky me.

But while Kisame may have seemed like the imminent threat, Itachi was the one I was really worried about. If he caught me in a genjutsu while I was fighting Kisame, I was completely screwed. My three-minute countdown was already ticking, and each second I wasted with Kisame was one less I had to kill Itachi. I didn’t know if it was possible for Itachi to place me under an illusion from all the way over there, outside of Kisame’s enormous water dome, but I wasn’t taking any chances.

I needed to deal with him first to have even the slimmest chance of surviving.

I flexed my chakra and formed the one of the two elemental ninjutsu I was capable of.

Water Style: Water Clone

The liquid coalesced before me while Kisame unleashed a swarm of sharks. My heart skipped a beat and a part of my brain gibbered in terror as I saw hundreds of the creatures undulating my way.

Then I was gone, substituting with my clone as fast as I could.

It was like the scariest game of substitution tag in the world. I would create a clone and try to substitute myself with it before the sharks destroyed it or me, racing to escape the dome as fast as I could.

I had never done a string of substitutions so quick together before, and soon the world was a blur of water, sharks, and copies of myself. As soon as I arrived in the next position, I flexed my chakra and was gone again. This must have gone on at least two dozen times, and when I reached the end of my line I remembered that Kisame could move the entire water dome because I wasn’t nearly as close to the edge as I should have been. I did it all again.

I was completely dizzy and disorientated by the time I made it out, allowing my air scroll to fall to the ground as I barfed. Like the motion sickness I’d had in the last life, I instantly felt loads better as soon as my stomach had emptied itself and didn’t waste any more time as I poured on the speed. I sprinted straight for where my seals told me Itachi was waiting, not far from the moving edge of the dome.

As I ran I stuffed down a soldier pill to replace the chakra I’d lost from the rapid water clones and substitutions, barely managing to swallow it along with some vomit.

I could feel the rest of border patrol near the dome as well, the opposite side as Itachi and myself, and was glad. I was sure they would be absolutely no help in this fight.

What I knew of itachi’s fighting style told me I would have one chance and one chance only.

I jumped off of a tree branch, leaving the canopy for the forest floor to meet Itachi face to face. He was younger than I had expected, and I only realised just now that he was fifteen years old. A year older than myself.

“I figured I would deal with you first,” I told Uchiha Itachi casually and stepped forward with false confidence. I smirked and looked boldly into his red sharingan eyes. “After all, I’m immune to every genjutsu in existence.”

Then, grinning cockily, I sprinted straight at him.

“Arrogance.”

Itachi’s voice was deep, toneless, and flat. It sent shivers up my spine, the first word I’d ever heard him say, but it did not stop me.

His sharingan eyes warped, spinning into pinwheels. My heart hammered an SOS in my chest as I continued my charge.

“Arrogance,” I echoed, meeting his eyes straight on, left hand outstretched.

Itachi’s one habit, his one weakness in a fight was his over reliance on his sharingan abilities. Like all Uchiha really. I knew he probably didn’t want to waste his Mangekyo on a nobody like me, but if I taunted him into using it…

I had found them despite his genjutsu. Destroyed Samehada. Escaped Kisame’s water prison.

I was a threat he had to acknowledge.

His eyes widened as Tsukiyomi failed to take effect. He began moving backwards and I leapt, using the explosive effect of utilising too much chakra at my feet to propel myself forward faster.

Black fire poured from his eye, and I pulsed my outstretched hand with chakra. Overwhelming heat swept over me as the unnatural flame was sucked straight into my palm, and I felt my arm baking.

Time slowed, the scene crystalising impossibly as I continued forward straight into the black flames and out.

My palm hit his chest and I howled in pain as the burns made the contact absolute agony. But I pulsed my chakra again.

I was drenched, crimson covering me from head to toe, the blood sizzling off my burnt arm and my howl spiralled into a scream. My leap took me straight through Itachi’s gore and through several branches. I hit the ground on my feet, tripped and tumbled, arm clutched to my chest painfully, before getting up and running.

People counted as ‘damage inflicting things’ too.

“Izanagi.”

His voice echoed unnaturally as time turned back and reset itself. The blood all over me vanished, the smell of it disappeared, and suddenly I no longer had to blink my eyes clear. Itachi was alive.

Just. As. Planned.

“KAI!” I roared, still running forward as fast as I could, and then the forest behind me exploded.

I had used my flying leap to propel myself both towards and away from Itachi. The seal tag stuck to my back to detached the moment before I reached him and used said leap to get myself far away from the it. Thus, when Itachi enacted Izanagi, he reappeared right where he had been standing before, right in front of my seal while I had exited the blast radius entirely.

Senju Tobirama had beaten Izanagi long before either Itachi or I were born. The Izanagi had a limit, it could only turn back a short amount of time. The amount varied from user to user, but I was prepared for them all.

The roar of continuous explosions filled the air and shook the earth as the seal summoned explosive tags, exploded, those tags summoned more and so on so forth. The sheer number of tags I had created for this attack had taken me months to write.

Itachi would have lost one eye to Izanagi. I didn’t know if that meant Susanoo was out of his reach or not, but I had a counter for that too.

Because I had not merely used explosions.

Another weakness I knew of that I shouldn’t, was the acidic mist that could melt even the bones of the skeletal warrior. I had mixed in both fast-acting lethal poison gas and acidic mist tags into my explosions. That patch of forest was going to be an absolutely lethal wasteland for the foreseeable future.

Now, I had planned for pretty much the worst-case scenario when I made the tandem tag explosions, which was Uchiha Obito. I couldn’t remember how long he could remain intangible, so I had made the explosions last ten minutes, just in case. I was kind of regretting that now as my ears were deafened.

This is not a ninja battle, I thought viciously, grinding my teeth as I picked myself up laboriously and made away from the Itachi-killing zone. A ninja is supposed to be silent and stealthy, killing in the night. This is the least stealthy fight since Hashirama and Madara made the Valley of the End.

Kisame’s monstrous chakra signature that he’d been flaring since the beginning was on the level of a fucking bijuu. His water prison was on the move in my direction and towered way above the trees, the size of a hill. Itachi’s chakra signature had also flared when he used his Mangekyo, and my own contributions were hardly going unnoticed. I’d bet you could hear the explosions from the country over.

I whipped off my tinfoil hat, sealing it away with a relief. I’d lost track of how long I’d been wearing it, but I had included a warning in that it would heat up if I was approaching three minutes. It was still cool to the touch, to my utter shock, because how on earth had all that happened in less than three measly minutes?

I knew ninja fights were fast, sometimes only lasting seconds, but this was insane.

I covered my ears as the booms continued to buffet me, even over here. If Itachi survived this, then I was a goner. Those had been all my Uchiha tricks.

I made my way back to the very middle of my God’s Eye network, the outpost. I arrived at the abandoned camouflaged building, the five other Konoha ninja in the field far away from both my explosions and Kisame, obviously scouting things out from afar.

This is my first mission outside of Konoha! The giggles burst out of me as a leaned against the hard stone wall, heaving and trying to catch my breath. The C-rank curse is real!

I closed my eyes and breathed deep. Once. Twice. Thrice. I was still shaking.

I wanted to hide. I wanted to run away. I wanted this to all be a terrible nightmare.

The throbbing of my roasted left hand was an unneeded reminder of my wakefulness. My whole left sleeve was gone, and the skin beneath was bright lobster red, black in several places. Tears pricked at my eyes just from looking at it, and I instantly looked away. Though on the bright side, at least my flesh wasn’t completely charred black.

Before I could do anything else, the water dome approached.

I whipped out a scroll and set in on the ground, and then I was swallowed. The storage seal began to glow, sucking in the water at a rapid pace as it filled up, and the dome transformed into a whirlpool as the water was drained.

I gasped as my head emerged and saw Kisame surfing swiftly on the whirlpool and nearing me at a ferocious pace. I threw myself into the currents, trying to stay as far from him as I could. Dropping Kisame into my best Genjutsu, I didn’t even get to see if it had worked because something jumped out of the water and bit my leg.

I screamed and instantly lost my balance, tumbling into shark-infested waters.

It was luck that saved me. I was tossed by the currents straight out of the whirlpool before I could be eaten alive, thrown in an arc through the air and bounced off the ground like a skipping stone.  

I came to a stop when my back smacked against the wall of the outpost, miraculously still standing, and I temporarily blacked out. I must not have been unconscious for long, because when I opened my eyes, I was still alive and Kisame was standing not even ten feet away, the last of the water disappearing beneath the treeline.

The Kiri-nin stalked closer to me, the grin he had worn at the beginning of the fight nowhere to be seen. He had discarded his Akatsuki cloak at some point and the rippling of his muscles as he moved was honestly one of the most intimidating things I’d ever seen.

“Who the hell are you, and why haven’t I heard of you before?”

I tried to speak, but all I could manage was a wet, shuddering gurgle.

“Look at you, thirteen years old, barely hit puberty and already one of the scariest things that go bump in the night.” Kisame smirked mirthlessly. “Konoha really does produce outrageous prodigies.”

The explosions that were still going off were quieter here, but I could still barely hear him over the ruckus.

I’m fourteen, actually, I huffed quietly, my ribs protesting with each breath. I was trembling from exhaustion and fear, my limbs rattling despite the numbness and absolute agony of my left arm. Without that pain, I might have passed out again already. I sagged further, the energy to conceal my weakness having left me entirely.

Kisame stepped closer, and I closed my eyes.

My heart fluttered as fast as a hummingbird’s wings as I waited, mere moments from certain death.

Now!

When my seal network told me Kisame was exactly where I needed him, I pulsed the chakra through the tags on every nearby tree. From the linked seals, thin wires were summoned, held taut between the pieces of paper I had set up at the very beginning of my border patrol, a month ago. A whole web of them appeared from nowhere, the wires crisscrossing around the Kiri-nin and the forest was set alight with the glow of electricity.

I could see the light show through my eyelids and the stench of cooking flesh soon hit my nose. I gagged and choked, reminded of the smell my own arm had made, but I didn’t have anything else left to throw up.

Opening my eyes as the light faded, I was met with the sight of Kisame’s smoking corpse caught in my wires. The skin around them had lines of black where the intense heat of the electricity had charred it, and to my complete disgust, Kisame’s eyeballs had burst and were dripping out of his sockets.

I waited, for a sign of a substitution, for the trick to reveal itself, for the ninja to bludgeon me from existence.

But nothing happened.

My seals told me he had died. The sentient shark they detected had vanished, blipped out of reality.

Kisame remained, trapped in my wires, lifeless.

This is part of my Short Stories series, find more here:

[rikilouvre]

— pairing | enhypen jake & reader (female)

— genre | first-person pov, fluff, wedding, (a lil) angst, we're back in the 90s!

— word count | 0.9k

— heads up! | contains description of a kiss

— synopsis | what will happen on my wedding day?

— theme song | sunkissed lola - pasilyo

— author's note (1) | this is absolutely my first time drawing illustrations for my own stories here on tumblr (aside from doing the title illustrations) and it feels crazy and exciting! i hope readers will adjust to my peabrain-level in anatomy, i mostly draw cartoons (which, of course, have no limitations in anatomy). and, a reblog will be appreciated!

— author's note (2) | "pasilyo" means passageway or hallway, for my international folks :)

"i've always wondered, how my wedding day would turn out. yeah, i might be talking about my wedding cake, my dress, the reception and where it would all happen, who my visitors will be — i'm thinking... fondants. LOTS OF FONDANTS! as long as it's marble, nobody's gonna get killed that day (kidding, 'ma might find my diary and she might freak out when she sees this). my dress, hmm, i don't know. 'cause i'm really picky with how my dress should look and feel on me, i definitely hate scratchy fabric or whatever you call those, and i want ruffles. i definitely want to have my wedding happening at the beach — it'd be an excuse to wear shell necklaces and bracelets. i'll never not include my 'ma and 'pa since they're the greatest beings in the world.

but, i'm not talking about those when i say that i'm wondering how my wedding day will turn out. i'm talking about, how i will feel when i'm walking down the big pasilyo with my 'pa, i think? whoever it is, 'ma or 'pa, i know it's going to be crazy. what if my heels break in the middle of walking down the aisle? what if i toot? what if i couldn't handle the pressure and lose my sanity infront of everyone? but the thing that i'm most curious in, is who i'm going to be married to. is he handsome? taller than my cabinet? tan but smooth and rosy skin like a baby? is he going to be good at cooking? what about at fixing things like our leaking faucet? is he going to be as good as my 'pa?

is his smile going to be as charming as the pretty guys i see on television? will his hair be soft that it could go with the wind's flow? will he smell pleasant like the perfume i tested when we went at the big mall? oh, i can only dream. all i'm sure of is that he's going to wear a velvety black suit and tie and a crisp white shirt — standing after his best man behind him, looking at me and waiting for me patiently to reach them.

though, i'll never not think about failing myself. i know to myself that i'm a very clumsy person, i might be able to do anything but to be prim and perfect even just for once — i might trip on the flowers and ribbons beside the attendees, throw the bouquet on someone's face, create a fire out of nowhere, sneeze, ugh this is stressful.

but realistically, the feeling of excitement and fear will never be without the other one. wedding is an experience that might happen just once in a lifetime, and making it count is always a must. i might tear up 'cause of astonishment, nervousness, happiness, excitement, doubt — everything is just mixed up. one teardrop, two, three, worst case scenario is that i breakdown while walking. that'd be ridiculous. but seriously, the overwhelming sensation of fully committing to another person adds up to the pressure. but, that wouldn't be the case once i'm ready, right?

then the ceremony, blah blah blah, all those jazz and BOOM! we kiss. how would a kiss feel like? i feel like it would be slimy, ew. but some say it would feel like you're levitating once you kiss the right person who passionately loves you. how romantic ♡ ♡ ♡ . i imagine the crowd would go "WOOOOOO!!!" once we kiss, huh? and then, yay, we're married! little flower girls would throw maroon red rose petals in the air and he'd look at me fondly and everything would be in slow motion. i'd melt at his gaze and some petals would lie on his broad shoulders. one smile and i will definitely be 101% sure of my choice to have married him. yes, he should be THAT handsome. and our future lives would be—"

"mrs. _____, they're waiting for you down the pasilyo." my assistant for my wedding day told me. "you can do it." she whispered, putting her fist up with a cheerful encouraging smile plastered on her face. i softened my focused expression and grinned back at her. i closed the diary i used to write on back when i was seventeen, put the mini-lock back there and stood up — being careful of my ruffled dress that i might step on it or wrinkle it. i took a good look at the mirror — wow, i'm fully grown. time flies by so quickly and who would've thought almost everything i wrote would come true? i'm now wearing the dress that's the most favorable for me, my cake is triple-decker marble with loads of white fondant for its cover (a bonus that there are also two figurines of us, made with fondant!), my wedding will happen inside a traditional church, and the man i'm going to be married to fits every single description i expected him to be. i won. and i'm hella proud of it.

i smiled at myself for the last time before stepping out of the dressing room to ride our car headed to the church. this is me signing off as _____ _____, and signing in as _____ sim.

— 킅 —

[oliviajames1122]

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Is It Possible To Inspect Your Brakes Without Taking The Wheels Off?

Yes, provided your car's wheels have holes. But to do this, you would need torchlight. To do this, shine the torchlight through the openings in the tyre to measure and check the thickness of the pads. It is best to get your brake pads changed before your next MOT testing service to avoid a MOT failure.

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There is a lifespan for brake pads. Replace them if they've travelled beyond the advised distance, which is often between 20,000 and 70,000 miles. A grinding sound while braking should also be avoided. Such noise may be a sign that the brake rotors are being ground down by worn out brake pads.

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Driving while using bad brakes is possible, but it comes with a high risk. It is risky and potentially dangerous to drive with worn brakes. You won't have enough stopping power to bring your car to a stop quickly, thus this will happen. Of course, if your brakes malfunction, you could hit someone or anything. Determining if brake discs need to be replaced is therefore important to prevent any major accidents. The braking rotors on your vehicle may suffer significant damage if you drive with worn brake pads.

When Should I Check My Brake Pads?

According to vehicle garages in Reading, there is no set timeline for replacing brake pads. In order to assess the level of wear and tear, it is therefore a good idea to check your brake pads frequently. On how and where you drive, typical brake pad wear will vary. Because of the stopping and going of city traffic, for instance, driving in urban areas may cause your brake pads to wear out more quickly than if you were driving on country roads.

[lesgenouxdanslegif]

COMMENT RECONNAITRE UN COUREUR EN ETE ?

7 POINTS QUI NE TROMPENT PAS.

• 1. Son bronzage est épouvantable : pieds blancs mais ongles noirs, nuque rouge, marques qui forment des dessins quasi indélébiles. Un mot : répugnant.• 

2. Parlons-en de ces ongles. On dirait que le coureur sort du tournage du prochain « Les Visiteurs » mais pas du tout, c’est son quotidien depuis 10 ans. Faut être honnête, même les panards de Gollum sont plus appétissants.

• 3. Il veut toujours aller courir à 14h « car c’est le moment où la famille fait la sieste ». Problème, il fait 75 degrés et le coureur revient 30 minutes plus tard avec le cœur à 200bpm après 3,7 bornes de souffrance. Il pense qu’il est né pour courir pour la Western States alors que pas du tout.

• 4. Parfois, le coureur pète un cable et part courir à 5h du mat pour « profiter de la fraîcheur et admirer le petit matin ». Cela n’arrive qu’une fois.

• 5. L’été, c’est aussi le moment où le coureur s’aligne sur une course bien trop difficile pour lui. Trop de kilomètres, trop de dénivelé, trop de jurons balancés pendant l’épreuve mais un finish épique à 4,1 km/h qui lui laisse croire qu’il peut faire deux fois plus dur l’été suivant.

• 6. L’année, le coureur vit comme un moine : salades de graines et dodo à 21 heures. En été à la même heure, il est en train de retourner des saucisses avec un verre de rosé à la main tout en recevant des éclaboussures de graisse de la viande sur son t-shirt méga supra giga ultra technique qui vaut un quart de SMIC.

• 7. L’été, c’est la période où le coureur a plus de temps pour s’entraîner et se met à rêver : « Kilian n’est pas si fort… La course de quartier de Chamonix en moins de 20 heures, pourquoi pas… Il faudrait que je fasse un test VMA, je dois être à 22 là… ». La cheville qui tourne sur le chemin côtier lui remet les idées en place.

Nous vous souhaitons un magnifique été.

Photo David Gonthier / Pixel en Cime