#pH Level Testing

[ratwarning]

[carewyncromwell]

"Got no diamond, got no pearl -- Still I think I'm a lucky girl."

x~x~x~x

HPHM Cardverse developed by @ariparri // Read about how Jacob and Duncan met

x~x~x~x

Duncan Ashe was an incredibly driven, ambitious person. It was part of the reason why he'd climbed the ladder at court so fast and earned the position of Jack of Spades while still only a university student of 21. That same year, he brought Jacob Cromwell on as an advisor and technology expert, and the following year, he brought his best friend Coby McQuaid into the fold as well. This second addition in particular had prompted a lot of waves, and before long, Coby had actually been named the new King of Spades himself.

All in all, Duncan was very pleased with how his life at court was shaping up. This was why he was perturbed to find his "right-hand man," Jacob, looking so tired and gloomy that autumn. And to make him all the more perturbed, when Duncan asked him about it, Jacob forced a painful-looking smile on and lied through his teeth.

"Gloomy?" he said. "Aw, nah, I'm fine, Ashe, just...just a little tired is all. But don't worry! I just have to finish this up, and then I can get right to the next prototype..."

Duncan's eyebrows furrowed. "Jacob, your shift's ending in an hour. If you're tired, then maybe you should go home and rest -- "

"Rest? When I'm on a roll?" laughed Jacob. "Nah, I've got to start experimenting on those soil samples tomorrow...and hey, this wind turbine isn't gonna fix itself..."

"Jacob," said Duncan, but Jacob cut him off with another forced smile.

"It's okay, Ashe," he said as reassuringly as he could. "I don't mind staying late to finish...and well, the overtime pay here's great! So it all works out."

The sentiment was familiar enough to Duncan that, very reluctantly, he gave in and let Jacob be. The Jack would still watch Jacob from afar, noting the dark circles that were slowly forming under his blue eyes and the way all trace of a smile would disappear the moment he thought no one could see him, and he grew more concerned by the day.

That concern was sidetracked completely, though, by the very nasty surprise Duncan got, when he accidentally overheard some other courtiers talking.

" -- he's got a sweetheart!"

"Cromwell? No way!"

Duncan stopped mid-step down the hall. His head shot around and he stilled, trying hard to listen.

"It's true!" said the first female voice. "He's been receiving boxes of white flowers and chocolate every day for a week now!"

"From who?" asked the other.

"That's what's so mysterious! I saw one of the packages arrive in his office the other day -- it had no note, no return address...not even a name! Just 'Jacob Cromwell' and his office number, printed on the light blue paper."

Duncan's ears perked up at once. Light blue paper? Only one store he knew of wrapped their packages in that stuff...

Sure enough, the other courtier made the same connection.

"Light blue paper? Only Pique's General Store wraps their stuff up that way!"

"Right! I talked to the gent in the mail room, and he said that he's found one of those such packages on his desk for Jacob at 5:15 PM every day for the last week!"

"How quaint! Then maybe Cromwell really has got some kind of secret admirer..."

"A lady, undoubtedly -- I saw the handwriting on the package, and that kind of penmanship is most assuredly a woman's..."

As their voices came around the corner, Duncan quickly peeled himself back from the wall. Not wanting them to think he'd been eavesdropping, he quickly strolled past the two gossiping girls without even looking at them. Even so, Duncan couldn't ignore the stifled gasps they gave at the sight of him.

"You don't think the Jack heard you?" one asked the other, as Duncan walked that little bit faster down the hall, sliding his hand into his vest pocket at he went.

x~x~x~x

Now, at first, Duncan wanted to confront Jacob about the rumors. Very quickly, though, he decided against it. After all, however much Jacob saw him as a friend, Duncan was his employer, and truthfully, it wasn't Duncan's place to stick his nose into Jacob's personal life. He was perfectly within his rights to date, if he wanted, so long as it didn't interfere with his work...

But that was kind of the sticking thing.

Jacob was entitled to date. He was allowed to do anything he wanted romantically, really -- even if that idiot had somehow turned out to be some sort of Casanova with women on every block, that ultimately was his business and his alone. And yet the thought of Jacob having some squeeze on the side...it was disquieting to Duncan, way more than it should've been.

You hired Jacob to serve as one of your courtiers, Duncan had to remind himself. He's your subordinate. People already think you favor him as it is -- if they had any reason to think you were romantically involved...

Duncan wasn't a naive person. He knew full well how such a thing could be spun, in the public sphere. And with people like Patricia Rakepick looking for any kind of opening to "one up" him, Duncan couldn't risk that.

And so that next day, in the late afternoon, Duncan paid a visit to the mail room. Sure enough, when he arrived, the older gentleman working there had a light blue package set aside for Jacob, accompanied by a bouquet of white hydrangeas.

"Saw Pique's new little shopgirl drop them off, as I came in," said the mail clerk cheerfully. "Poor lass...asked her if she wanted a spot of tea before she left, but she looked to be in a dreadful hurry..."

Duncan cocked his eyebrows as he picked up the package. "Really?"

"Yeah, well, old Pique's always been stingy about how many people he hires," said the mail clerk. "And she was a tiny little thing -- no older than my granddaughter, I think, 13, maybe? I reckon Pique's probably running that girl all over town, dropping off stuff..."

Well, there goes the idea of that girl being Jacob's "secret admirer," thought Duncan. Sounds like she's barely old enough to even think about romance. Still...

"What did the girl look like?" Duncan asked.

"Ginger hair, red lips -- and small, of course. Very small. Probably only five feet or so."

Near Veruca's height, Duncan mentally filed away the information.

"Thank you."

With this, Duncan took the light blue package, placing it under his arm as he headed out.

x~x~x~x

When he brought the package around to Jacob's office, his subordinate's face lit up at the sight of it. He unwrapped the package, and sure enough, it was a box of artisan chocolate.

When Jacob noticed Duncan looking over his "gifts" so critically, though, his smile faded.

"It's not what it looks like," he said immediately, sounding incredibly defensive.

"Oh?" said Duncan, raising an eyebrow.

"I've needed to harvest the flowers' seeds for my experiments," said Jacob with a weak smile. "It's all about the pH of the soil, see -- the hydrangea is a very unique plant -- "

"And the chocolate?" asked Duncan.

Jacob brought a hand through his dark curls uncomfortably.

"...That's just...to try to cheer me up, that's all."

"Cheer you up about what?" Duncan pressed him.

Jacob avoided Duncan's eye. Duncan swept around, trying to force Jacob to look at him.

"Jacob," he said sharply, "if there's someone -- "

Someone else...

Duncan forced himself not to go there. He couldn't confront Jacob's romantic life straight-on: if he did, he was afraid he'd say too much...

"...If there's something going on, you can tell me. You know I can help -- "

"I can do it by myself!" Jacob said in an oddly harsh tone.

Duncan flinched. Something almost stricken seemed to run over Jacob's face -- it made him lose a lot of the color in his face.

"It's fine, Ashe," Jacob said very firmly, putting on that strained smile again. "I've got it under control. I do."

Duncan's eyebrows came together tightly. "Jacob -- "

Jacob seized Duncan's shoulder and squeezed.

"I've got it," he insisted as reassuringly as he could.

Despite saying this, his hand on Duncan's shoulder was shaking.

Duncan's dark eyes flitted down to Jacob's hand on his shoulder, before looking up. They ran over Jacob's strained, pale face critically, taking in how tired the wrinkles around his eyes were...and then narrowed.

Jacob was lying. He was lying right to his face. What Duncan didn't know is whether Jacob knew it as well as he did.

"Fine," said Duncan, more coldly than he meant to.

Sliding out of Jacob's grip, the Jack of Spades turned on his heel and left, his long coat sweeping behind him as he went.

x~x~x~x

The following day, in the midst of work, Duncan went on an unscheduled outing into the capitol. He'd taken off his usual purple and white sash, preferring to go a little bit more "incognito" for the moment, and even took the trolley rather than a private streetcar with a driver.

His destination -- Pique's General Store.

Duncan had only ever been to this store once or twice. It was a store that sold a little bit of everything, from food to flowers to household trinkets, but was best known for its wearable pieces. Many women bought dresses, shoes, and jewelry from Pique's -- even Duncan's father had stopped in here to buy himself a new pocketwatch once, when Duncan was young.

When Duncan entered the store, he found it incredibly busy. The line was nearly out the door, and several of the shoppers seemed rather impatient. This may have been, however, because there was only one person at the register -- a girl with a black ribbon in her ginger ponytail and an apron tied over her second-hand gray dress.

Duncan's eyes narrowed. So this was the shopgirl who'd dropped off that package from Jacob's "secret admirer."

The mail clerk was right -- she was small. Her young, make-upped face indicated she was a teenager -- fifteen or sixteen, perhaps, a few years older than Veruca? -- but her petite height definitely made her look younger. Despite this, though, she zipped around behind the counter, fetching various goods and ringing up what the customers brought to the register. At several points she had to dart up the ladder leaning against the back shelf to pick out specialty items for a customer, sweeping back down to the floor with the grace of a chubby little robin landing after a flight. And all the while, even as the whole shop rumbled with the mutters of grumpy customers, she kept on a pretty, lady-like expression: not smiling, exactly, but nonplussed and grounded. This affect didn't shift even when one customer started berating her for making her wait fifteen whole minutes for service: instead, the small girl faced her with astounding patience.

"I apologize for the wait, ma'am," she said.

"I'm sure you do," the older woman sneered sarcastically.

The shopgirl didn't rise to the taunt. Instead she rang up the woman's total.

"That'll be a hundred, altogether."

The woman reacted with anger. "A hundred? The sign on the window said 'sale!'"

"The 'sale' items are marked in that far corner, with blue marks on their tags," the shopgirl explained. "I'm afraid only two out of your ten items have those marks."

"That is not what it said on the sign!" the older woman shot back angrily.

"The 'sale' corner has the exact same sign as the window does," said the shopgirl calmly. "If you'd like, I can put what you don't want back where they belong. Or if you want them all, but can't afford them right now, I can always put some of them on layaway for you."

The older woman looked so affronted, she looked close to literally clutching the pearls around her neck.

"How dare -- this is outrageous! I demand to speak to Mr. Pique this instant!"

"I'm afraid Mr. Pique is on a coffee break," said the shopgirl, "but if you wish to speak to him, then you can come back in twenty minutes. He should be back by then."

"I'm not leaving until I see Mr. Pique!" the older woman shouted.

The shopgirl's pale face hardened.

"All right," she said lowly. "Then stand off to the side, while I help these people behind you."

She immediately turned her attention to the man waiting behind the woman in line.

"Bring your things here, sir," the girl said more gently.

The man, with a faintly stunned look at the woman in front of him, hesitantly approached the counter with the bottle of whiskey and bag of candy he'd purchased. The woman in front of him looked outraged.

"Excuse me!" she shrieked. "I am your customer -- "

"And so are they," the shopgirl cut her off.

The girl's voice was very quiet, but it sounded so authoritative that she suddenly sounded much older and stronger than she looked.

"You complained about waiting fifteen minutes for my assistance," the shopgirl said coldly. "I'm not going to have all these people wait longer, simply because you no longer want that assistance. If you want Mr. Pique to speak to you, then he can speak to you after he has had something to eat, as I'm sure you will, once you've finished your shopping for the day. And hopefully you'll treat him with more respect than you have me."

The older woman started to redden as red as a tomato, her whole face puffing up like an angry fish.

"You -- !" she spluttered furiously. "You -- low-class, uppity little tramp -- !"

"And now you're disrespecting my other customers, by making a scene," the shopgirl said in that very soft, but pointed voice. "Either wait for Mr. Pique outside, or have a lovely day elsewhere."

The older woman spluttered some more nastier swears under her breath. Then, whirling around to look at all of the other stunned customers, she pushed right through the crowd and out the door of the shop, leaving all of her things strewn about the counter.

"That's it!" she raged. "I'm done!" She paused in the doorframe just long enough to add, "You may tell Mr. Pique that he has just lost himself a loyal customer -- !"

"Thank you," the shopgirl cut her off with great finality.

This only seemed to make the woman even madder as she stormed out, slamming the door shut behind her.

"I have never been treated thusly in my entire life -- !" could just barely be heard through the closed door.

Duncan watched her go, his lips spreading into a broad smirk despite himself.

Not bad, he thought as he glanced back at the shopgirl as she addressed the man who'd been behind the difficult customer in line.

"I'm very sorry about that," she said kindly. "And about the wait..."

"Oh, no, it -- was no trouble," said the man. He cleared his throat, clearly still a bit uncomfortable about what he'd just witnessed. "Ahem...I'm just sorry a little thing like you had to deal with that all by yourself..."

"It's no trouble," said the shopgirl, her red lips forcing a smile. "I've got it."

Duncan stilled. His smirk faded from his face as he stared at the shopgirl with a clarity he hadn't had until just that moment.

That strained smile...that pale face, that modest height...those almond-shaped blue eyes...

Those eyes...were Jacob's eyes.

Duncan felt like his heart had leapt up into his throat.

Carewyn. The shopgirl who'd delivered all those anonymous packages was Carewyn Cromwell -- Jacob's little sister.

Since when did Jacob's little sister have a job? She had to be so young still -- right around Veruca's age, Duncan thought. That would be way too young to be working a job like this... Was Jacob's family really that bad off that Carewyn had had to drop out of school too, to support her family?

Duncan suddenly felt like his heart was being squeezed.

Was this why Jacob had been so depressed? Because his little sister had had to give up on her academic future, the way Jacob had his...?

"Is there anything I can help you with, sir?"

Duncan was startled by the sound of an older, portly gentleman coming in through the door, putting out a cigar on the door frame as he entered.

"Ah...yes," Duncan said after he'd recovered. "You'd be Mr. Pique, I suppose? I thought you were out for a coffee break."

"Oh, I am," said Pique gruffly. "My thirty minutes isn't up quite yet...but I thought I'd just check in on my new little lady -- wasn't sure how she'd do behind the desk all by herself..."

His rough face broke into a fonder smile when he saw Carewyn quickly ringing up one customer's totals while adding another's by hand on a spare piece of paper, so as to cut the line down faster.

"But it seems I needn't have worried," he said, his smile becoming a bit more crooked. "I knew she'd be good help, the moment I met her."

"She is a bit young to be working here, isn't she?" asked Duncan.

"A bit, yes -- lass isn't going to be fifteen until September," said Pique.

"Then she's fourteen?" recurred Duncan.

She really was right around Veruca's age. The thought of Coby's sister working a full-time customer service job with people yelling at her for nothing made Duncan feel nauseous.

"Yes, I usually don't hire until at least sixteen," Pique said with a shrug. "But she fought hard to get this job, even just part-time. Said she'd need to save up some money, if she was going to be able to attend university..."

Duncan's heart leapt. "University?"

Then Carewyn hadn't dropped out?

"Yeah!" said Pique with a barking laugh. "I gather her family's financial state isn't so great. Her brother works for the Jack of Spades, so I hear, so he earns good money...but I reckon my little lady doesn't want him spending his pay on her future, when he's had to work so hard as it is. And well, I'm sure that boy would want to move into his own place and settle down with someone nice, at some point, not just stay at home with his folks forever..."

Duncan found himself tuning out as Pique rambled on a bit longer, only because his brain and heart were both turning with this new information.

The Cromwells weren't in financial trouble. Carewyn hadn't had to get a job to save her family, like Jacob did. She'd done it to pay for her education, so that Jacob wouldn't have to. She'd decided to work part-time, while still going to school...

...Kind of like Duncan had...working under the previous Jack while he was at university...

Duncan looked back up at Carewyn behind the counter. Her line of customers was almost completely gone now, leaving only a young man with a very dorky bow tie fumbling through his wallet for exact change.

"I can count it out for you, if you'd like," Carewyn offered.

"Th-thank you," the young man said with an uncomfortable smile. "I-I guess I'm just a little frazzled..."

Carewyn very quickly counted out exact change on the counter. Then, after scooping up the rest of the coins and returning it to the man's wallet, she handed a rather pretty light blue-wrapped box with a white ribbon to him.

"Here," Carewyn said with an encouraging smile. "I hope she likes it."

The young man's face burst into a blush, but he nonetheless smiled, encouraged. "Thank you!"

With a little wave, the young man left the shop. Carewyn likewise waved as he left, before sighing heavily, clearly relieved that the long line was gone.

"Well done, Carewyn!" said Pique jovially as he strode up to the counter, clapping her hard enough on the back that the much smaller girl winced. "Quite well done, indeed! I knew I was right to take you on..."

Carewyn put on her best smile. "Thank you..."

Then she immediately frowned as she gathered up the hats and dresses the difficult customer had left strewn on the counter.

"...But sir, your break isn't over until 4:30 -- "

"I'm still on break, I'm just not 'breaking,'" Pique said brusquely.

"Put on the brakes now, or you might break down later," Carewyn warned the man concernedly as she put the hats back on the proper mannequins.

But Pique waved this off. "I'll brew up some coffee and drink a cup before ringing anyone else up. Why don't you go take your lunch break a little early? You've worked hard enough."

Carewyn hesitated. "Are you sure? I can work until your break is over -- "

"Nonsense!" said Pique. "I passed around some fliers advertising the sale during my walk, so we'll undoubtedly have another rush of shoppers this evening, after people get off work. You go on ahead for now and get something to eat -- I'll have plenty of work for you to do when you get back."

Not looking entirely convinced, Carewyn nonetheless did as her employer said, putting the rest of the dresses away before heading back to the counter. She took off her apron, hanging it up on a nail on the side, and then headed to the backroom. Duncan lingered in the store, watching, as a minute later, Carewyn came bustling back out, a light-blue package under her arm.

Duncan's eyes widened in realization. Then the packages weren't being delivered on behalf of some secret admirer -- they'd all been from Carewyn herself!

"I'll be right back!" Carewyn said, as she darted across the store to the door.

"Be back in thirty minutes on the dot!" Pique called after her.

Just as the door would've closed, though, Duncan grabbed it and left the shop after Carewyn.

x~x~x~x

The Jack followed Carewyn out of the general store and then to the trolley stop. He climbed onto it right after her, and upon catching sight of her moving toward the very back left corner of the car, he moved after her, taking a seat right beside her.

Duncan sneaked a covert glance at the girl out the side of his eye.

She really didn't resemble Jacob at all...did Carewyn take more after her mother, while Jacob took after their father, or vice-versa? If it weren't for their identical eyes, Duncan would've been tempted to think they didn't share blood.

"Why did you follow me?"

Duncan blinked. Carewyn hadn't even looked up, when she asked this. Instead she looked out the window on the other side of her.

"I saw you standing at the back of the general store," she said lowly. "You didn't browse through any of the inventory or even get in line. All you did was watch me work and then talk to Mr. Pique when he came in."

Her blue eyes narrowed upon Duncan's reflection.

"...What do you want?"

Her eyes may have been colored and shaped like Jacob's...but in that moment, so sharp and piercing and full of distrust, Duncan was almost reminded more of Patricia Rakepick's.

Duncan's surprise melted away into something more serious.

"I came to talk to you, actually," he said.

Carewyn raised her eyebrows.

"Recently my subordinate has been getting a lot of...mysterious packages, delivered by a shopgirl with ginger hair," said Duncan. His eyes flitted down to the light blue package in Carewyn's lap. "No name, no note -- no return address...but all in Pique's distinct light blue paper."

Carewyn's eyes grew a little bit smaller.

"...And this 'subordinate' of yours...?"

"Jacob Cromwell is his name," said Duncan. His lips curled up in a small smirk. "Your brother, if I'm not mistaken."

Carewyn turned around to look at Duncan properly, her eyes very wide. Then something in the back of them brightened.

"...Ashe," she breathed through a smile. "You're Duncan Ashe!"

Duncan's smirk broadened. "You've heard of me?"

"Of course!" said Carewyn. "Jacob's told Mum and me all about you."

Duncan's heart fluttered. Jacob had told his family about him...?

"...Has he?" he asked softly.

"Well, he talks about you a lot," said Carewyn, and she had to stifle a giggle behind her hand. "If either Mum or I ask after you, he'll ramble on and on until he's completely run out of breath."

Duncan gave a cynical laugh. "Well, give Jacob just about any subject, and I daresay he'll do the same thing..."

Despite saying this, though, Duncan couldn't mask the light, happy flush painting his face, nor could he deny how warm he felt, thinking of Jacob rambling on about him to someone. Did he talk about his intellect, his cleverness -- his ambition -- his looks, how well he dressed? Surely not -- Jacob was an absolute idiot when it came to picking clothes for himself, Duncan had had to pick out something proper for him to wear to court...but maybe Jacob appreciated how Duncan dressed, despite this? Duncan wished his mind wasn't dancing so giddily with such fancies.

Carewyn's eyes softened.

"Really, though," she said more gently, "Jacob is so grateful for everything you've done for him. And I am too."

Duncan avoided Carewyn's eye. "Well, it's...nothing Jacob didn't earn, really. He's got a brilliant mind -- someone else would've seen it, even if I hadn't..."

Rakepick would've snatched Jacob up in a second, if she could've, Duncan thought, a surge of dislike pulsing through him at the thought of the Ace keenly parsing over one of Jacob's blueprints.

Carewyn shook her head. "But that's just it. My brother is brilliant -- he's always been brilliant -- but so many people have never seen it."

Her gaze drifted back out the window.

"...I was too little to remember all of this, but...when Jacob was young, he was bullied, for being interested in things. Even sometimes for not being interested in other things, like sports, or clubs, or parties. He was beaten down and ignored...and whenever he'd lose his temper or try to fight back, he'd get in trouble for it. Soon the only thing anyone ever saw of Jacob was his misbehavior -- our dad, included."

Duncan stared at Carewyn's reflection in the glass. Her face looked almost heartbroken, thinking this -- as if just recounting what her brother went through physically injured her.

"Jacob tried really hard to be better after I came along, and especially after Dad left us," she said softly. "He had to help Mum look after me...so he worked really hard, for a really long time. He dropped out of school, gave up a lot of dreams...all to try to make sure we had a roof over our heads. And eventually...all anyone ever saw of Jacob was that he was useful. That he could do things they could use for their business -- that he could fix things, or cook things, or file things, and do it all perfectly. They weren't looking for him to talk, or explain, or share, or teach, or think -- they just wanted him to do."

Duncan found his own eyes drifting through the window now, barely seeing either Carewyn's or his reflections now. In his mind's eye, he could see Jacob fixing the trolley door through another window, on another trolley -- see the muscles in his arm flexing -- seeing him smile so brightly --

"Your brother likes being useful," Duncan said softly.

"Of course he does," said Carewyn. "He always has. But that doesn't mean that's all he is."

She turned to smile at Duncan. "That's why I'm grateful you brought him to court. I know Jacob feels useful to you, but not just because of what he can do. You value his ideas -- his hopes and dreams. His drive to challenge the status quo...to shake things up and do real good for people. His passion and his aspirations for a better future. His brain and his heart."

Her blue eyes sparkled as her smile softened.

"Jacob's happy there, with you," she murmured. "Happier than he ever was at those other jobs. He wasn't unhappy, exactly -- those bosses did appreciate what he gave them, and those jobs did help him support us...but, well..."

Her eyes fell down to her hands in her lap.

"...They only wanted one small piece of Jacob. You...want all of him."

Duncan felt his face darkening with a redder flush. He quickly looked away, trying to hide it by covering his mouth, cheek, and chin with his whole hand.

"Well...um..."

Duncan felt very flustered, and he really didn't like it. He shot a look at Carewyn -- fortunately she too still had her eyes averted to her hands in her lap.

He swallowed, trying to recollect himself. When he finally did, his voice came out a bit strained.

"...I...I do want Jacob here," he said lowly. "He's...very special."

To me.

Refusing to let those words leak out, Duncan forced himself to get back to business.

"...He...said that you sent those packages to cheer him up."

Carewyn smiled a bit uncomfortably, her eyes drifting back out the window.

"...Yeah...Jacob's been pretty upset that I took a job too, around my schooling. He said he didn't want me to have to work -- that he'd work twice as hard, so I wouldn't have to...but I can't do that to him. Jacob and Mum have provided for me my whole life...it's my turn to help them, now."

Duncan's eyes betrayed concern. "Is it still so difficult for you? I thought with Jacob's higher salary -- "

"We're not struggling," Carewyn said earnestly. "But well, Jacob and I have still had to share a room my entire life. Jacob needs space. We both do. He needs an office -- a place where he can work on projects outside of work. I need a real closet where I can organize my clothes properly, so I don't have Jacob pairing my socks with his by accident."

She actually pursed her lips a bit, giving off something of a haughty expression. It made Duncan bite back a snort of laughter.

"Jacob's good at earning money and doing without on things, but not budgeting."

"And there is a big difference," said Duncan.

Carewyn nodded. "So Mum and I have been looking at the long-term...and what's holding us back from buying a bigger place is saving up enough for me to afford books and tuition. Jacob wants to just stay where we are and pay for me to go to university...but I don't want that for him. I don't want him to have to do without anymore, when I can help him now. And I wish he wouldn't work so much overtime to try to persuade me otherwise!"

This came out a bit frustrated, despite Carewyn's seemingly best efforts. She looked almost guilty, expressing such emotion in front of Duncan.

"...I'm sorry," she said lowly. "I...know you're Jacob's friend, so I thought I should explain."

"You don't need to apologize," Duncan said at once.

Carewyn still looked a bit uncomfortable.

"Please don't tell Jacob I told you all this," she said quietly. "I know Jacob esteems you...he wouldn't want you to see him as unable to do something."

Something stirred in Duncan's memory.

"I can do it by myself!"

"It's fine, Ashe. I've got it under control. I do."

Then that was it. Jacob hadn't just been lying to Duncan -- he'd been too proud to even accept things as they were himself...too proud to acknowledge he couldn't carry the world all by himself...

Duncan's brows and lips both knit together tightly.

"What I see him as is a complete idiot," he said dryly.

The Jack pulled down on the trolley string to make it stop outside the Palace of Spades. As he got up, Duncan extended a hand to Carewyn as if to help her up.

"Now, then -- Jacob's lab is on the far end, so we'll have to walk briskly, if we're going to deliver your care package to him. I'll need to drive you back in my personal car afterward, if you're going to have any decent time to eat before returning to work..."

Carewyn flushed. "That's all right -- I don't need anyth -- "

"Let me guess -- you've been skipping out on meals, just to bring these packages to your brother on your breaks," Duncan cut her off.

Carewyn shot him a glare through her blush. "There's always something to eat quickly at home -- I can more than manage until then..."

Duncan brought a hand up to his face and shook his head.

"Well, now I see sacrificing for your loved ones is something of a family trait, for you Cromwells. Ugh -- come on, then -- we're picking up your brother, dropping off his chocolates in the lab, and then driving somewhere for a proper meal. Shut your mouth right now and don't bother taking out any money, I won't hear any arguments from you or your brother about it."

x~x~x~x

Despite the sourness he'd spoken with, Duncan still kept his eye trained behind him to make sure Carewyn was keeping up with his longer strides, as he strolled quickly down the hall. And when Jacob looked up to find Carewyn in his lab and practically leapt out of his seat, throwing his arms around her and squeezing her tight as he beamed so happily over her shoulder at Duncan, the Jack of Spades couldn't have possibly obscured the soft, contented rosiness of his face as he watched them.

Jacob did in fact try to argue with Duncan about paying for their supper in full -- and Duncan scolded him just as much as he had Carewyn.

"Don't argue with me, I'm your boss. And no more of these little package deliveries, to cheer you up -- the next time Carewyn wants to bring you something, I intend for her to bring it to you when she's off from work and school, on formal visits..."

Jacob's eyes widened.

"Formal visits?" he repeated, disbelieving. "You mean...Wyn can come see me here, at the Palace?"

Carewyn looked just as stunned herself. "Duncan, you -- you don't have to do that -- "

"I know I don't," Duncan said, averting his eyes uncomfortably, "but I'm doing it. I give my permission -- Carewyn can come whenever she wants."

Jacob and Carewyn both stared. It made Duncan's flush creep up his neck all the more.

"Just as long as you don't get distracted, Jacob," Duncan added, his voice becoming a bit more strained in its defensiveness. "After all, you'll still be at work and earning pay -- it's just easier than making Carewyn use up her break times. And Carewyn seems responsible enough that she won't keep you from your work. Plus it'll quiet a lot of the unnecessary gossip around court about you having a sweetheart sending you packages..."

Jacob's mouth fell open. "What? Oh, come on, Ashe, I told you it wasn't like that -- !"

But Carewyn disregarded this completely. Instead she got up and, opening her arms, gave Duncan a hug.

The gesture made Duncan stiffen, taken aback, and she immediately withdrew, looking a bit guilty.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, even though she couldn't keep the smile off her face. "It's just...thank you, Duncan. I've never been inside the Palace before, aside from the mail room, and seeing where Jacob's working..."

Her eyes sparkled like gems.

"... Your invitation...it's very generous," she whispered. "Thank you."

Duncan hadn't thought he could go any redder, but somehow he was. Coby would probably be comparing him to a tomato by now.

"Ahem," he cleared his throat awkwardly as he looked away. "...You're welcome."

He glanced at Carewyn out the side of his eye, to see her smiling sympathetically. Maybe she sensed his discomfort -- or maybe, being far more insightful about people than Jacob, she sensed what really fueled it: that stifled, hidden desire to make her brother happy.

Either way, Duncan found himself smiling a bit too, as he looked back at her.

Maybe Carewyn wasn't Jacob's sweetheart...but she did have a very sweet heart, all the same.

[no-thots-only-shrimp]

We lost one lads :(

[hmdigitalindia]

HM Digital India

Address- Plot No. G1-375-376, RIICO Industrial Area, Khushkhera, Alwar, Rajasthan 301707, India

Phone- 6377716055, 6377716059, 6377716056

[thatpondguyuk]

Managing pH Levels in Koi Ponds: A Complete Guide

Managing pH levels in koi ponds is essential for the health and well-being of your fish. The pH, or potential of hydrogen, measures the acidity or alkalinity of the water and directly impacts the environment in which your koi live. A stable and balanced pH ensures that koi can thrive, free from stress and health complications. In this guide, we’ll explain the importance of pH, how to monitor it,…

[alexanderwales]

This is a water-seal stoneware crock. The design is ancient.

It is, essentially, a large ceramic vessel that you put vegetables and sometimes brine into. To prevent spoilage, you place those ceramic weights on top of whatever food is in the crock, and that keeps them weighted down, below the level of the water. Because fermentation creates gases, most crocks have a "water groove" in them. The lid sits in the groove, which allows air to escape but not come in. Because fermentation creates gas, the interior of the crock is positive-pressure, and because the gas created is almost entirely carbon dioxide, it's a low-oxygen environment that additionally helps prevent spoilage.

And all this would be pointless without lactobacillus, the bacteria that chomp down on the vegetables you put into the crock. They're anaerobic, which means totally fine without oxygen, and they produce an environment that's inhospitable to most other organisms. The main things they produce are CO2, which means no oxygen for other bacteria, and lactic acid, which makes the fermented thing sour and also decreases the pH low enough that many other bacteria cannot survive. They tolerate high levels of salt, which kill yet more competitor bacteria. It ends up being a really really good way to keep food from going off.

Our ancestors figured this out thousands of years ago without knowing what bacteria were. This general ceramic design has been in use around the world in virtually every place that had ceramics, salt, and too much cabbage or cucumbers that was going to rot if they didn't do something about it. It's thousands of years old, so old that it gets hard to interpret the evidence of the ceramics.

And I have crocks like this in my kitchen, where I make my own ferments, and I always think about how beautiful and elegant it all is, and how this was probably invented hundreds of times as people converged on something that Just Works.

(I do have pH testing strips though.)

[waywardsalt]

finally got around to putting together elden ring builds for the post-ph crew, and tested them out briefly, so here are the builds i came up with and all that! (absolutely a very long post, i had fun explaining a lot of my reasoning)

i'm not going to give them exact stats, just some vague idea of what they'd likely lean towards, and i can't say much to what equip load they have. when i tested these builds out i had 72 endurance. this uses exclusively base-game equipment since i don’t have the dlc and wanted to test these out for myself.

i also don’t use many spells or any incantations so the spell and incantation choices are mostly based on wiki descriptions and whether or not i felt it would fit the character.

some context is that this is with the idea that somehow these four get zapped into the lands between as tarnished, and this is the equipment i think they’d use, disregarding what is needed to access most of this stuff.

i also didn't change my tarnished's appearance for these, not that i think i could accurately replicate these four in elden ring's character creator, anyways, so you get to see my tarnished's face with all of these :)

Link:

His armor is: the highwayman hood, the blue cloth vest, exile gauntlets, and Carian knight greaves.

There's practically no green armor in this game, and what is there isn't really armor and isn’t exactly good protection. I wanted a bit of a balance between just cloth, but also some armor, as well as a headpiece somewhat like the usual hero's cap. The highwayman's hood works well enough, honestly, and I think it fits in well with the blue cloth vest; plus, I can see it being helpful in keeping dust and whatnot out of his eyes. Blue works well enough with Link nowadays, and I do think the blue cloth vest actually fits Link well enough- I doubt he'd want to wear something like a plate breastplate, so a vest like this is good.

The exile gauntlets I feel work well, they're simple and slim with some decent coverage, and the Carian knight graves not only look great with the blue cloth vest, but are also something that I believe fits Link, and the tall boots are likely decently practical in the same vein as the hood.

His weapons I chose are: The Carian knight's sword, with the pulley bow as a secondary weapon, and the Carian knight's shield in his offhand, with the academy glintstone staff as a secondary.

He obviously had to be the good standard sword-and-shield combo fighter, but I went ahead and gave him with Carian sword and shield partially because they look decently similar to what weapons he normally uses, but also because I enjoy the idea of him dabbling in magic along with typical damage types. The Carian sword does a good bit of magic damage along with standard, and the shield guards again both of those types, and the sword's unique ash of war (Carian Grandeur) is a good mix between swordfighting and magic, and actually really good to use in-game. I feel like they suit him well.

For his secondaries, I had to give him a bow, and I feel like the pulley bow is just right, especially with it's special feature of having increased range. I could see him being the one tasked with deactivating faraway traps and hunting the animals of the Lands Between for materials, and even just luring enemies with some normal arrows.

The academy glintstone staff is a solid staff (and the one I personally use), and him using magic is a good way to translate his usual versatility, though I only limited him to five spells, those being:

Loretta's greatbow, giving him what is technically now a second bow, and a pretty good spell for luring and doing some decent magic damage,

Magma shot, a good, simple fire damage spell,

Glintstone Icecrag, a good ice spell, especially for causing frostbite buildup,

Great glintstone shard, a very basic but reliable spell, and is good when cast a few times in succession,

and Thops' barrier, for deflecting magic attacks, and though I've heard it's a mediocre spell, I could see Link getting the timing down and getting some good usage out of it. I tried giving him a decent range of spells, which is a little bit easier said then done considering the actual spell variety and wanting to pick spell that I think suit Link, but I think this is a good lineup.

For talismans, assuming that all four of them have all four talisman slots open, Link gets the silver scarab, the graven-mass talisman, the erdtree's favor +2, and the companion jar.

The silver scarab, raising item discovery is... perfect for Link. It only feels right that he gets a talisman that makes him more likely to get items off enemies. It definitely works, too, while testing, I got way more items out of the gatefront ruins group than I'd ever seen before.

The graven-mass talisman boosts sorcery power, which is certainly perfect for boosting Link's versatility and magic power, simple and useful.

The erdtree’s favor +2 is just an all-around great talisman to use for the hp, mp, and stamina boost, and it feels perfect as something for Link to use, especially to increase his effectiveness and endurance in battle.

And then the companion jar, which goes hand-in-hand with him also being a pot user to further his versatility, and it’s very easy to see him doing the Jar-Bairn side quest. My choices here disregard how the items are obtained, but I could absolutely see Link going out of his way to interact with Jarburg.

Link’s standard fighter, with a balance between offense and defense and physical and magical damage with a slight leaning towards magical, and the main archer who aims to do more damage with archery, and uses pots when needed. He’s probably the one ‘leading the charge’ in that he’s suited for most situations, but isn’t necessarily the most effective in all-out combat- he is the most defensively oriented, however. He’s likely in the mid-to-light equip range, and likely mostly levels Strength and Intelligence to keep his damage up, and focuses a lot on keeping his Vigor up for a good chunk of health.

Linebeck:

His armor is: the black knife armor, the gauntlets, and bandit boots.

The black knife armor is the most important part of the set, not just for it being a nice blue, but because it has the unique effect of completely silencing your movement sounds- perfect for steal and getting in a good number of sneak attacks. It’s light, too, and so are the generally standard gauntlets and bandit boots, all put together for a general… blue rogue kind of look? It’s practicality and some looks and all put around the idea that he’s going to be sneaking around and panic-rolling out of the enemy’s way- so his defenses are a bit lacking in favor of mobility. I do think it’s a good look overall.

His weapons are: A bloody antspur rapier with the poison mist ash of war, the redbranch shortbow as a secondary weapon, and the frozen needle in the offhand.

For Linebeck's build, it was either daggers or rapiers, and the extra damage, range, and great designs for the rapier won out- and I think rapiers suit him well. This specific pair of rapiers are oriented around inflicting ailments, with the frozen needle inflicting frostbite, and the antspur rapier- specifically with the poison mist ash of war and blood upgrade- can inflict scarlet rot, bloodloss, and poison with poison mist active. With the blood upgrade, the scarlet rot buildup suffers, but with the speed of rapiers and just how effective scarlet rot can be, it's a decent trade-off for the ability to do four ailments at once. His role in the Radahn fight is to inflict scarlet rot and then run off to snipe him with the redbranch shortbow, which is a simple ranged option, and helps with further ailment inflicting with ailment arrows.

His damage would probably be pretty decent, especially considering inflicting frostbite and his equipped talismans, but he's mostly going to be heading in with everyone and sticking around until proccing an ailment, and then backing off, especially if poison, rot, or frostbite are inflicted. Plus I think dual rapiers look great and it's very easy to see Linebeck using rapiers.

For talismans, he gets the gold scarab, the assassin's crimson dagger, the dagger talisman, and the blessed dew talisman.

The gold scarab boost rune acquisition by 20%. It's perfect. It's one of my favorite talismans. I can't make an Elden Ring build for Linebeck and NOT give him the money-boosting talisman.

The assassin's crimson dagger restores hp upon successful critical hits, and paired with the silencing effect of the black knife armor, is perfect for someone who's more used to sneaking around and taking down enemies from behind- and it's good for topping off your hp.

The dagger talisman boosts critical damage- so then making sneak attacks all the more effective, and even making any critical hits he manages in fights do much more damage.

And then the blessed dew talisman gives you a very minuscule constant hp regen, about 2 hp per second iirc. It’s incredibly slow, but it's hp regen all the same, good for saving flask uses and good for some health regeneration if you back out of the main fight.

Linebeck's got a big focus on stealth and ailments, with just a bit of health regen tossed in with the talismans to help with survivability. his weapons and offhand options are mainly based around ailments, and besides the bow, he tends to use darts and other throwable items, and is often the one to pick off enemies at the edge of a group while the others go in to the handle the main group. With bosses, he's in the front lines until an ailment is inflicted, and will jump back in either if he's really needed, or if ailments are needed again. For longer bosses, or bosses immune to a few ailments, he would probably find moments to jump in and get a bunch of quick hits in, then back out and wait for another opening. Rapiers are pretty good for quick hits considering that I believe you actually get three attacks from a dual-rapier sprint attack. He’d likely have a focus on Dexterity and Arcane, with some Endurance mixed in for that good running and rolling stamina.

Damien:

His armor is; the sacred crown helm, exile armor, crucible gauntlets, and drake knight greaves.

Picking armor for Damien was a bit of a challenge since he’s still a bit of a work in progress and I usually picture him in generally casual clothes, but I knew I wanted to stick with some red clothing and put together a bit more of a practical sort of outfit. Plus this end result kind of helps me further figure out Damien’s actual design and outfit variations.

I knew I wanted to give him one of the simple footsoldier helmets, and the sacred crown helm won out with the additional detail of the little vine-looking wreath, plus the minor faith boost. It’s a nice little helmet and I think it suits him. The exile armor was considered due to the red cloth around the shoulders, and was properly decided on when I found that the helmet got rid of the cloth covering the bottom half of the face. So it’s a good solid chest piece.

The crucible gauntlets and drake knight greaves work both with color and giving him some more armored extremities, the crucible gauntlets are pretty good heavy armor gauntlets, if the crucible knights themselves are anything to go by, and the drake knight graves seem to have a good bit of practicality with the high boots and armor. It’s all meant to end up somewhere in the medium equip load area, for a balance between defense and speed, and the lighter helmet and chest piece were primarily to even out with the heavier weapons.

The weapons he gets are: the axe of Godrick, the highland axe as a secondary, and the clawmark seal.

The axe of Godrick is a pretty good greataxe with what selection there is, some good damage and a really good ash of war skill with a really good area of effect. It’s fantastic for crowd control when two-handed, and worked pretty well for me when I tested it out without having upgraded it. It’s all in all a great standard axe. The highland axe as a secondary is used partially as a faster one-hand option, and partially for the boost given by its war cry ash of war. The axe of Godrick is almost always what he’d use, but the highland axe is probably better for some specific situations. Damien was always going to end up using axes, and I think these two are pretty good and fitting.

In his other hand is the clawmark seal- scaling with faith and strength and so working well with him relying on strength, and boosting bestial incantations, of which he has one- and he mostly uses support incantations with some minor attack incantations- but he is primarily support, usually backing out of the fight to switch to casting due to usually two-handing the axe of Godrick. He gets six incantations, those being:

Heal, as a very standard heal, mostly just for himself,

Erdtree heal, a heal more intended for group healing,

Golden vow, a group offense and defense buff for a time,

Protection of the erdtree, for increased non-physical defense, which is likely useful for many bosses,

Bestial sling, which is a pretty basic but effective attack incantation, and boosted by the seal he uses, and is probably great in tandem with his axes to break an enemy's poise,

and then Dragonclaw as his final spell, a stronger and closer-up attack spell, likely for individual bosses that are lower on hp.

His offenses are standard and meant to be pretty decent for crowd control and poise-breaking, so his attack spells follow suite, while his support options are based around healing and some basic buffs. I personally do not use buffs or incantations when I play, so I do not know the nuances of a lot of this stuff, but Damien's got a good set of incantations to use.

Damien's set of talismans are the green turtle talisman, the mottled necklace +1, the axe talisman, and the bull-goat's talisman.

The green turtle talisman is a great talisman, simply increasing the speed of stamina regeneration, and it's a fantastic talisman. Very useful with the stamina drained by axe attacks and backing off to cast spells.

The mottled necklace boosts immunity, robustness, and focus, an across-the-board status boost, and I imagine it's useful for being up close with enemies and then staying alive to help with support- even if he doesn't have much in the way of ailment-based support.

The axe talisman is a damage booster, and considering his decent poise, charged attacks are pretty viable for him to be using.

The bull-goat's talisman is standard but very effective in practice (or maybe that's me being used to low poise), as it raises poise, therefore making it harder for you to flinch or be knocked out of an attack. Very helpful with a slower main weapon like the axe of Godrick.

Damien's standard all around, with pretty good damage and likely very helpful with crowd control, usually two-handing the axe for maximum damage and will back off when using incantations. He primarily uses incantations for support, and the offensive incantations are usually saved for bosses or rougher encounters- or sometimes just if he wants to switch things up for fun. He's likely going to focus on Strength and Faith, with some Mind thrown in for most casts.

Bellum:

His armor is: the altered tree sentinel armor, and the malformed dragon gauntlets and greaves.

Chosen partially for the color and because they're all heavy plate armor; meant to emulate a lot of the phantom designs, and for that yellow color, and I wasn't even aware that the malformed dragon gauntlets had a darker color until I was initially putting this together. Heavy armor fits with a desire to survive in battle, plus I think decent mobility in heavy armor suits Bellum; when I tested this out, I was firmly in medium equip load territory, plus it made for a good bit of poise to go with slower weapons. It wasn't too hard to pick out armor for him.

The weapons I felt suit him are: the blasphemous blade, the Marais executioner's sword, with the gravel stone seal as a secondary.

The blasphemous blade was practically necessary, a greatsword with the bonus effect of hp restoration on enemy death, plus the Taker's Flames skill, which also heals hp when it hits an enemy. This is was made me decide on greatswords over colossal weapons, trying to stick a bit with some ideas from the phantoms, plus the hp-leeching effects, plus it’s a pretty good weapon and I think it originally belonging to Rykard also fits pretty well; it’s Bellum’s main weapon unless he switches to the Marais Executioner’s sword for it’s specific skill. That sword is mostly chosen for it’s skill, as well as it’s origins- those bell-bearing hunters are absolute nightmares to deal with- so the two swords are kind of also picked for a sort of intimidation effect. At least the wriggling flesh on the blasphemous blade does the job well enough if someone doesn’t know the origins (which don’t practically matter). He would likely switch to the executioner’s sword for some boss fights, and its skill can be highly damaging to lone enemies- the focus with these two is on heavy damage and hp regen.

The secondary left hand weapon he has is the gravel stone seal, which boost dragon incantations, and so he only uses offense incantations, with a lot of incantations that cover a wide area and some that inflict ailment buildup. Bellum gets five incantations, all attacks (and all maybe emulating the idea that he’s a monster forced to be human in the lands between lol);

Beast claw, a pretty standard but pretty effective ground-level attack,

Unendurable frenzy, a wide range, fiery madness-inflicting incantation that, while only inflicting madness on a select few enemies (and himself) is likely more than useful for crowds and large enemies,

Rotten breath, a dragon communion incantation that is about what it says on the tin, a dragon’s breath attack that inflicts scarlet rot,

Fortissax’s lightning spear, another dragon incantation that summons a pair of lightning spears, with the damage at it’s best up close,

and Aspects of the crucible: tail, a wide-range crucible incantation, and the most fitting of the crucible incantations, I feel.

He has no issue getting up close to bosses, since he can fall back on the honestly insane hp regen he’s afforded by both his main weapon and some of his talismans.

The talismans Bellum gets are; the taker’s cameo, the dragoncrest greatshield talisman, the pearldrake talisman +2, and the godskin swaddling cloth.

The taker’s token has the same passive effect as the blasphemous blade; hp restoration upon enemy death. The fun part is that the taker’s token and the blasphemous blade’s hp regen effects stack with each other.

The dragoncrest greatshield talisman reduces physical damage by 20%, and the pearldrake talisman +2 reduces non-physical damage by about 11%. Covering just about all defenses with these two talismans.

The godskin swaddling cloth allows for additional minor hp restoration upon landing a certain number of melee hits within a short timeframe. This could be harder with greatswords, but with dual greatswords and jumping right into the action, I don’t imagine it’s at all impossible for the talisman’s effect to never trigger. As always, it’s extra effective with a larger number of enemies.

Bellum’s the main damage-dealer with a focus on staying power and lots of hp regen, using the blasphemous blade for regular battles while switching to the executioner’s sword for bosses due to the more aggressive ash of war. His incantations are more often used for crowd control, but are absolutely effect for boss battles, especially when given time to charge them up. He’s all about staying power and straightforward damage-dealing, with some decent poise to back things up despite his checking piece being altered and his lack of a helmet, and all of his incantations are a bit more bestially-inclined. He'd probably focus on Vigor and Strength, with some Faith or Dexterity thrown in for damage-dealing.

Overall, the idea is that the four of them are in the lands between like this, working and running around together, probably fighting over what bosses to go after next and whether or not to head into the catacombs that one of them just spotted. I could see them taking the time to scour the lands between for every little trinket and discussing whether or not to bother with some character's quest. Not too different from actual post-ph stuff, but it's fun to put them in Elden Ring and think on what kinds of equipment to give them and what would suit them.

[metal-frisbee]

What's your favorite pH level?

-pointless question (pq) anon

Probably something more acidic. Around 3? Lemons are fun

[pathologicalreid]

litmus test | s.r.

in which Spencer needs your expertise to help solve a murder, but crime fighting is most decidedly not for you

find more chemist!reader here!

who? spencer reid x chemist!reader category: flangst (like. the end is a little angsty and it has case details) content warnings: typical cm violence, science talk, fem!reader, reader is not built for crime, morgan being an older brother, some fun banter!! death by firework is crazy lmao word count: 1.68k a/n: this is one of my favorite fluff pieces i've written in agessss i missed chemist!reader so much i learn so many things when i'm writing her. this was a request! i hope you like it as much as i do!!

“Do you have a second?” Spencer asks, his voice slightly choppy over the phone. Between his ancient phone and being inside concrete police precincts, some disconnect was bound to happen.

Saving your document to your computer, you rest the lab phone between your shoulder and ear, “If you’re asking me if I have any corrosive chemicals in my hands, the answer is no.”

He chuckles lightly, “I never know with you.”

You roll your eyes in response, even if he can’t see you, “It was one time and I needed a new phone case anyway.”

“You fused the plastic of your phone case to the material of your phone,” he retorts far too quickly for your liking.

“Yes,” you acquiesce, “but I know the exact chemical reaction that caused that phenomenon.” You cross your legs one over the other, maintaining your balance on your lab stool as you speak to Spencer over the phone.

He gave a light hum in response, “Speaking of chemical reactions – I need your help.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, “You’re asking me for help in chemistry?” There really was a first time for everything, you suppose.

Spencer was more than capable of navigating a lab on his own, even so, he admits, “You have more applied practice than I do.”

Pursing your lips, you nod to yourself, “Fair enough. What’s stumping you, Dr. Reid?” Your inquiry, while innocent enough, garners a wolf whistle from your graduate assistant.

“There’s something burning a hole in these bones, and I’m not sure what would be causing it to happen this fast,” he explains, giving you minor background information on how long the bones were out and if the medical examiner had treated them with something.

You clear your throat, frowning at the notes you had scrawled down in front of you, “Burning or corroding?” What was seemingly a meaningless distinction would actually allow you to filter through approximately half of the possibilities.

“Corroding,” he corrects himself, “My mistake.”

Crossing off some of your notes, you purse your lips at the new possibilities, “No worries. Did you try flushing it out with water?”

You hear papers flipping on his end of the call before you get a response, “That would destroy evidence.”

“Well,” you raise your eyebrows, “It sounds like your evidence is destroying itself.”

“Baby,” Spencer says in a no-nonsense tone reserved for when he was deep in a case. You could’ve sworn you heard Morgan in the background of the call mocking him for the pet name.

Turning back to your notes, you sigh, “Yeah, yeah, all work and no play. Was the body buried?”

“Partially,” his reply intrigues you, “I can have Garcia send you the crime scene photos if you think it’ll help.”

Wrinkling your nose at the thought, you made an unsure sound, “Right, because nothing says lunchtime like getting up close and personal with a homicide victim.”

“What lunchtime? It’s three pm in D.C. right now,” he caught you, a slight chiding tone in his words.

Ignoring his questions, you ask more of your own, “Was the body near water? Did they test the pH of the soil and water?”

There were more papers flipping, likely someone presenting the results of those tests to him, “Yeah, the soil was a five-point two and the water was a seven-point eight,” he listed off for you.

While your knowledge of the pH of the soil in Iowa was limited, you did know that those levels were pretty on par for the northern Mississippi River. “O-kay,” you say, extending your vowels, “and they didn’t find anything else on the scene that points to corrosive materials. Hydrofluoric acid?” You posit, “No, you know what – maybe you should send me those files. My work email is encrypted, you can give it to Penelope.”

He speaks to someone else in the room with him and you resist the urge to ask him if he’s enjoying Iowa, “It’s sent,” he confirms with you.

Pulling up your email only takes a moment, and once you get over the initial shock of seeing a dead body on your computer screen, you lift your lab glasses to the top of your head in order to get a better look. “I mean,” you think for a moment, “those look like alkali burns to me. I’ve never seen them on bones before, but you should do a litmus test to check either way.”

“So, we rinse it with water?” He asks, seeking instruction from you in a way that makes you feel oddly powerful.

Your eyes widen, “No, no, no. If it’s a metal compound then it’ll be covered in a mineral oil, so rinsing it with water would actually make the burn worse.”

Pausing for a moment, you consider the possibility that Spencer didn’t have the luxury of time – he was trying to solve a murder, not do experiments in a lab.

“Alkali burns can be serious, it all depends on what caused them, and most are helped by rinsing with water. So, unless you have the time to test for metal compounds, I’d go ahead and rinse it. You might want to brush the damage to the bones with a dry brush first. If there’s lime on the bones it’ll foam, which not only will corrode the bones even further but it might release a toxic gas,” you have no idea how the corrosion would interact with bone marrow, but something tell you that you don’t want to know

“Wait a minute,” Derek interjects, being included in the conversation now that Spencer put the call on speaker, “I thought things like alkaline water were good for you.”

You scoff instinctively, “Oh, there’s no definitive evidence that shows alkaline water as having any real health benefits. Especially not the benefits that the internet says it has.” Straightening up in your stool, you continue, “In fact, there is evidence from the NIH that says drinking alkaline water could cause kidney damage. There’s a particular-“

“My bad,” he interjects, effectively stopping your rambling before it really took off, “I forgot whose girlfriend I was talking to.”

Groaning at your new vexation, you huff, “Oh, fuck off, Derek. Go kick down a door.”

Spencer quickly switches the phone back, “Thank you, angel.”

Squinting at the photos that were still on your laptop screen, a crude, disturbing thought came to mind, “You know, sparklers can cause alkali burns. It might be something to consider because of the diameter of the burns.”

Your boyfriend was silent on his end of the call for so long that you had to check and make sure the call hadn't dropped. “Did you say sparklers?”

“Yep,” you confirm, “like the ones you can get everywhere this time of year.”

He says something to Morgan, placing his hand over the receiver so you can’t hear, “There’s only one spot in this town, though. I’ve gotta go, see you soon.”

“Stay safe, please! I prefer your bones unburned,” you rattle off into the phone before it clicks, placing the phone back on the stand and deleting the crime scene photos from your inbox.

The front door to the apartment opens and shuts quietly, with Spencer under the assumption that you already went to bed, he was surprised to find you on the couch, nursing a cup of tea. “Hey, baby,” he chirps, unusually peppy for this time of night.

“Hey,” you say half-heartedly, threading your fingers through the handle of the mug.

Your somber tone gets Spencer’s attention, “What’s wrong?”

The slight panic in his voice causes your eyes to snap up to his, “Nothing,” you murmur. “It’s just… the woman who was in those pictures. There- the burns on her bones, they were signs of torture, weren’t they?”

You’d been thinking about the burns ever since Spencer showed them to you, “Yes,” he answers with a reciprocating softness, sitting down next to you on the couch. “The medical examiner concluded that she was burned antemortem.”

That woman had been burned alive by fireworks, sparklers had seared their way through skin and muscle until it finally met her bones. You blink a few tears from your eyes at the thought, “I like my lab, Spence.”

The confusion on his face was palpable, “I know you do.”

“I like my minimal human interaction and my chemicals, and I like knowing why certain things cause certain reactions. I like it when things make sense.” You take a deep, shaky breath, “Killing someone. Torturing someone with fireworks. That just doesn’t make sense to me.”

You had no interest in hearing the excuses that the killer had provided. You had no interest in hearing the psychological breakdown of that woman’s killer. Spencer knows that, “The photos got to you?”

Taking a sip from your mug, you nod solemnly, “I can’t stop thinking about the way it must have felt. Oh, the smell must have been horrible. That poor woman.” In theory, it was a ridiculous notion, killing someone with fireworks seemed neither probable nor possible. Yet here you are.

“But we got the person who killed her,” Spencer reassures you, resting his hand gently on your knee. “We couldn’t have done it without you,” he adds.

Your face warms at his compliment, “I wish I could have helped before she was killed.” You were grateful that Spencer hadn’t passed on any personal information about the woman, it was easier for you if you kept things in separate storage files in your mind.

Spencer hums, reaching out and sweeping a strand of hair behind your ear, “There’s always going to be another one. I’m sorry about the photos, I should’ve made sure Garcia only sent the necessary ones.”

Nodding absentmindedly, you look at him thoughtfully, “This will pass, but for tonight I just feel bad for the victim.”

“I can have Penelope share some of her favorite baby animal videos, if you’d like,” he offers softly, resting his head on your shoulder.

In return, you give him a small smile, “Well, I suppose it really can’t hurt.”

[quarterlifekitty]

Ok so this is a bit weird ignore it you want it but I’ve been looking up fertility awareness bc methods and they’re fine but quite intense??? Like getting a thermometer up there every morning as soon as you wake up, peeing into a cup and measuring levels with strips, keeping a chart/app updated with all the info, keeping a close eye on your slick’s texture etc

Anyways. Partners can be involved and help. And it feels like such a Price thing to do. Like I feel like he’d maybe be too involved. And that’s so hot

K running away byeeee

No! Come back! (Holds up glass slipper) I don’t even know your name!!

cw: medical

100% a Price thing to do. Like that man was probably giving you morning pussy inspections before you were even trying for a baby. Like. This dude owns a speculum.

He has a huge journal where he’s writing down everything. Internal and external temperature reads, PH levels, any swelling of your clit or cervix, the color and texture of your slick. He’s also recording your moods for signs of hormonal changes, your cravings, your fatigue, all of it. And of course the man’s gotta test your sensitivity. Obviously.

Also has detailed records of how many times you’ve had sex, the positions it was in, how many times each of you came, what the consistency/volume of it was like, how long you waited before standing or sitting upright. And he totally does that thing where he has you rock on your back with your legs tucked to encourage his spend to get where it needs to go. And he’s definitely plugging you.

Like, this man has done so much research that he’s gonna be arguing with your obygyn on shit lol.

Terrible meme I made under the cut

[whatwhywhowherewhen]

Shen Yuan Shixiong au, but he is at a weird place in the time line and accidentally starts a new peak as a teenager while Luò Bīnghé is already in Qing Jing

It is the flowers peak- botany peak- crimes against humanity peak (if he's being honest). Mu Qingfang knows how to heal the human body and use medical herbs. Shen Yuan knows how to curse the human body and manipulate medical herbs

Everyone knows medicine is just poison in deliberate quantities, so they have a symbiotic relationship. Shen Qingqiu is low-key mad this kid is stealing his place as the guy with ridiculous quantities of knowledge for questionable purposes

Walking in this new peak unannounced is about as dangerous as falling into the endless abyss. They have frost forming flowers (that can freeze over an entire human body in five seconds) cooling plants from the Northern Desert of the demon realm. They have plants that suck acid from the soil to manage pH levels (but spit that acid if disturbed). They have a soap bearing plant (luò Bīnghé used it once to clean up before papapa) that is sucking up bases. They have mist shooting plants (mild hallucinogen, but they also have airway and throat coating fruit by the door to that greenhouse which prevents it being absorbed) for humidity

In a world where sex-pollen flowers rule the land, Shen Yuan is working to rule them, which, quite frankly, no one considered possible. This man claims he has never been sex-pollened, and no one quite believes him. But, well... he's never shown up at Qian Cao and no one is brave enough to test him using the virginity detecting sword

This all started from Shen Yuan, at the time a passable quqin player on Qing Jing, discovering a flower mentioned only on one page of one addition of PIDW, which he always thought would be useful for defense against aphrodisiacs due to its mind clearing properties, yet which was never brought up again. He proceeds to save one of his shimeis from a highly embarrassing incident

He is profusely thanked for his quick thinking, but Qing Jing isn't interested and the flower is too finicky to keep up a stock on Qian Cao. Shen Yuan, deeply fearing another incident and having a bit too much time on his hands, decides to set up his own garden on a small peak considered too contaminated to use for anything but long term storage. Things escalate

[smutmind]

Shuhua when it doesn't fit if you'd be so kind

When it Doesn't Fit ft Shuhua

Shuhua X BBC The science wing was empty after five. Most students had rushed home. But not Shuhua.

She stayed late, as usual—glasses perched on her nose, her tight white lab coat hugging a petite, curvy frame. She scrawled formulas on her clipboard with purpose. Her black skirt was regulation-short, socks pulled to her knees, and her ponytail bounced with every step.

Marcus was already at the workstation, leaning on the counter, muscles tensed under his rolled-up sleeves.

“You’re late,” she said without looking up.

“You love it when I make an entrance.”

She clicked her pen shut. “We’re supposed to be testing pH levels.”

He glanced at the untouched beakers. “Looks like you had something else in mind.”

Shuhua walked over, heels tapping softly, eyes sharp behind the frames. “You’re stronger than me. Taller. Maybe smarter in some subjects,” she said. “But you don’t know how to handle someone like me.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow. “What kind of ‘someone’ are you?”

“The kind who experiments first,” she said, tossing her clipboard aside. “And takes notes later.”

Her fingers slipped under the hem of his T-shirt, trailing up. “I want to measure something.”

He didn’t resist. Just watched, breath slowing, as she pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor. Her hands trailed down the planes of his chest, brushing his waistband.

“You okay with this?” she asked.

“Shuhua,” he said quietly, “I want whatever you want.”

She smirked. “Good answer.”

With a practiced flick, she unclasped her own coat, letting it fall open. Her black bra cupped her breasts just right, and when she reached behind and unhooked it, they bounced free, soft and flushed from heat.

Marcus stared, reverent.

“Eyes on the subject,” she said, sliding to her knees in front of him.

She undid his jeans, dragging them down, revealing thick, dark length already pulsing against the fabric of his boxers. Her eyes widened, amused.

“Jesus,” she whispered. “You call this a control sample?”

She pulled him free—long, heavy, thick with heat. She wrapped both hands around the shaft and tilted her head. “I should log this into the system.”

Marcus groaned as her lips parted and she dragged her tongue along the underside.

“I want to see what you taste like when I do this slow,” she said, stroking the base.

She sucked the head into her mouth, teasing him with flicks of her tongue, cheeks hollowing just enough to make it messy. Her glasses slid down her nose as she bobbed deeper, taking her time, letting him throb against her tongue.

His hands stayed back—respectful. But his breathing grew heavier, hips twitching forward as she picked up pace.

“You’re holding back,” she said, breathless. “Don’t. I want the full reaction.”

He grabbed the edge of the counter, knuckles white, as she sucked harder, spit trailing down her chin. She pumped what her mouth couldn’t take, faster now, sloppier.

His body tensed.

“Shuhua—I’m gonna—”

She pulled off just in time, looking up at him with flushed cheeks and a wicked smile.

“Not yet,” she said. “Lab work’s not done.”

She stood, pulling off her skirt, revealing black panties soaked through. She turned, bent over the counter, and peeled them down slow.

“You gonna help me test if this thing fits?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder.

Marcus moved behind her, hand sliding along her bare thigh, tracing the curve of her ass. He lined himself up, tip brushing her entrance.

“You sure?” he asked.

She arched, breath hot. “You’ve got permission. Do your worst.”

He pushed in slow—too thick at first. She gasped, bracing herself against the counter as her pussy stretched, inch by inch.

“Holy shit,” she whimpered. “You’re gonna split me in half.”

“You okay?”

“More than okay. Don’t stop.”

He sank deeper, groaning at how tight she felt. Her body clenched around him, walls fluttering. She cried out, one hand flying to grip his forearm.

“You’re so big,” she gasped. “God—it’s too good—”

He rocked into her slow, then faster, hips slapping her ass, the wet sounds echoing off tile and steel.

Shuhua’s moans filled the lab, sharp and gasping. Her glasses fogged. Sweat dripped between her breasts. “Harder, Marcus—fuck—make me forget my name.”

He thrust harder, deeper, until her legs shook and she collapsed over the counter. She came hard, pulsing around him, body locking down as her orgasm slammed through her.

Marcus grunted. “Gonna cum—inside—”

She reached back, pulling him tighter. “Do it,” she cried. “Give me everything.”

He let go.

Hot spurts filled her—pulse after pulse, thick and deep. Shuhua moaned as she felt it paint her walls, dripping down her thighs, pooling inside.

They stood there, panting, skin sticky and flushed.

Best chemical reaction she’d ever seen.

[communistkenobi]

a very common mistake people make in political/social discourse is applying individualist thinking to some social phenomenon or theory. one of the most common examples is someone responding to the theory of white privilege with “but there are poor white people” or male privilege with “I’m a man but I have no power” etc. and in order to refute that properly you have to essentially get into a philosophy of science debate, to explain that the benefit of a given social theory is its ability to be generalised above the level of the individual, that what is being described is a social process, that human beings occupy various positions within a social space (a family, a neighbourhood, a workplace, a state) that are not individual. To be able to give an account of some social force you necessarily cannot be just talking about the particularities of a single person - if you were, all you would be expressing is an individual opinion about a single person. If you want to rise above the level of ‘mere opinion’ you need to actually provide an account that is general enough to apply to multiple people of varying social situations but systematic enough to be able to differentiate between who you are and are not speaking about. Of course data are lost in this endeavour - probably best summed up by the aphorism “all models are wrong but some are useful” - but the success of a given social theory is its ability to sustain its explanatory power despite these data losses. Like the whole game of generalisation is building a theory to figure out what data points to discard and which to retain. It is no more contradictory to say white privilege is real even though there are poor white people than to say the police are a white supremacist institution even though there are non-white police officers. In fact these seeming contradictions are accounted for in these same social theories - white supremacy has had centuries of policy development at this point, it is a fairly well-tested set of logics that have adapted to a variety of conflicts, problems, and political/economic/social developments (Sylvia Wynter talks about this in the context of the post-slavery US for example). White supremacy is thus resilient to these apparent contradictions (and these contradictions generate further social developments, such as the shifting meanings and locations of whiteness), which is why zooming into the level of the individual is often not helpful in explaining its effects on a social level.

Weber says that I need not know Caesar to understand Caesar - that to talk about Caesar as a historical figure and as a particular location in ancient Roman society is fundamentally different than a description of him as an individual. And nobody actually talks about Caesar as an individual anyway! Even psychological or biographical profiles of him are premised on the fact that Caesar is worthy of this profile as opposed to any other person living in the Roman Republic. The reason we all know his name is that his place in history is extended beyond the individual. A Roman general and leader is fundamentally not an individual, not a private person. The very fact that I can say “Roman General” but not say any person’s name and have people understand what I’m saying is evidence of this. By definition ‘Caesar’ the historical figure is not an individual in any meaningful sense, he has power that is only available through social institutions and formations, and that is why he is known even today. Even the most liberal Great Man Theories of history locate an engine of history within the general position of Great Man (this is a fundamental contradiction within this type of thinking, the generalised Individual). If there can be more than one Great Man in history then he is not an individual, he is occupying a generalisable position in human history that can be calculated, bounded, and studied.

So it’s very frustrating to deal with! It’s an attempt to refute an explanation of a social phenomenon with individual anecdotes, much of which is already accounted for in said explanation. It makes many, many, many discussions about the social and political world endlessly repetitive and uninteresting, because you are always stuck at litigating the most basic, atomic point of reference. And of course that is the point for many people, they aren’t interested in any of this because they are racist and they are misogynistic and so on. It is an extremely effective derailing tactic, but part of the reason why it’s so effective is because individualism is such a pervasive mode of thinking. All of the groundwork is already laid out for people who say white privilege isn’t real because the social and epistemic infrastructure necessary to get other people to buy that argument has already been built for them to make that type of claim. Which is why the people who smirk at the camera when they say shit like this are so pathetic because they behave like they thought of that all by themselves, unaware or (more probably) deliberately ignoring the fact that they live in a society specifically built to facilitate, automate, and celebrate the garbage coming out of their mouth

[stagfodder]

the analog horror toxic yaoi arc(i didn’t coin that & i forget who did) did get me more interested in willtresor but less in a shipping way & more in a “i want to test the pH level of this sample & record my findings in a spreadsheet” way. why doesn’t the wax cryptid eat the misogynist

[darlingdaisyfarm]

Hiii! I hope I'm not late for the hc party.

I hc that Ford has tried a looot of different nsfw unholy things with his partner. It took a bit to get there and a lot of reassurances and consent discussions ofc!

I hc he would've tried hypnotism and medical fet. But dunno if he'd go forward with the former with his past- maybe trying it once. I am just a sucker for his velvety smooth voice holy shit I'd do anything for this old man-

But what do you think?

hi!! no ur not late dont worry!! first of all, i love Ford’s voice too. i would melt into a fucking puddle if he praised me. “you’re doing so well, darling” id cry and physically shut down. you would have to scrape me off the floor. j.k. simmons was such a correct choice.

nsfw stuff under the cut

i also think you’re spot on about the hypnotism, maybe he’d be into it or at least deeply curious, but the implications would hit him mid-scene and he’d stop bc he’s too self-aware. he needs to know you’re with him the whole time, fully present. Ford would only do it if you begged, like seriously begged. he’d be scared shitless the whole time but would still try for you. aftercare would be INTENSE. he’s checking in every ten seconds. “are you okay? are you really okay?” he’s cupping your face, looking at your pupils

he’d only go through with it once, maybe twice, because it fucks him up too much

and medical kink??? he’s totally the kind of man who would pull on gloves and inspect you like you’re a specimen and a miracle at the same time.. explaining ur own anatomy back to u while softly saying, “is this alright?” as he touches you. holding your hips down while noting your pulse. analysing you mid-moan.

and listen, i don’t even know if this counts as medical kink, but you know he’s journaling about it after. the sex, your reactions, the exact way you tasted, what your body did at certain times. your pH levels, maybe.... LMAO. but like he’d absolutely do that

also the gloves, i need him to wear them. snapping them on like it’s just procedure. brushing his knuckles across your stomach to see how your muscles react. i promise, there will be many phrases as “you’re so responsive” or “fascinating. i wonder if that’s neural or psychological…”

no, wait

imagine him checking your heart rate with two fingers to your neck

“tell me if it gets too intense. i want your full consent, not just compliance.”

probably pulls out a sterile metal tray with tools. a stethoscope. thermometer. gloves. lube. “just a standard preliminary exam,” he says while you’re already squirming

and and and..... “can i insert something for observation?” he says this while adjusting his glasses... how did i even come up with that

“you're flushed. elevated respiration. dilated pupils. how are you feeling, sweetheart?”

he'd do a “follow my finger” test to watch your eyes while you're dizzy from edging

he’d have a vibrator with adjustable intensity levels and graph it against your response time

“you’re being so good. now lie still for the procedure”

HE HOLDS YOUR WRIST TO CHECK YOUR PULSE WHILE HE’S INSIDE YOU. “i want to feel what i do to you. right here”

“may i collect a sample?”

anyway. this is your fault thank you!! i want to be Ford’s favourite experiment but in like a romantic and fucked up way. “my hypothesis is that you’re the most beautiful creature i’ve ever seen” he says this while fingering you in latex gloves

[kaijuno]

It's currently fair season all around our state.

And in true, unfortunate fair fashion, they're giving away live animals as prizes again.

Goldfish have gained a reputation for dying quickly. Which leads many to think of them as fun little toys rather than living beings.

But be aware- They're not dying because they have naturally short lifespans. They're dying from neglect..

The #1 reason goldfish die is because they cannot survive longer than a few weeks without properly aerated water and most people are keeping them in a tiny bowl of stagnant water where they are literally suffocating to death.

If given the proper care though, goldfish can grow to 8+ inches long and live 20 years. Something to think about before making the impulsive decision to bring one home with you from the fair.

This is what proper goldfish care looks like:

🐟 Depending on the type, goldfish should be housed in a habitat that provides about 20 gallons of water per fish. However some varieties require a larger amount of space, around 50–100 gallons.

🐟 Good water quality is critical for keeping a goldfish healthy. The pH should range between 7–8.4 and you should test the water frequently with a water quality test kit.

🐟 Water aeration is vital to maintain oxygen levels within their habitat so they can breathe. This can be provided with an air pump and air stone.

🐟 Filtration is important because goldfish are messy. A filter helps remove small particulates, and it also houses a large portion of the biological filtration needed to keep your water parameters healthy and liveable.

🐟 Unlike most aquarium fish, Goldfish are most comfortable around 72–76 F. So depending on your room temperature, you may or may not need a heater to keep your tank within this range. You should always have a thermometer in your tank to ensure your water temperature is within a healthy range.

🐟 Goldfish are predominately omnivores and should have a diet consisting mostly of sinking pellets. Flake foods are not recommended as it often doesn’t sink and if a goldfish eats at the surface too much, they can develop buoyancy issues. Enrichment food ideas are krill, Daphnia and Brine shrimp.

It doesn't matter that it's "just a fish." They still deserve more than bare minimum care. Monetarily its life may only be worth 25-60 cents to you, or whatever you spent to win it at the fair- but morally, it's still a living creature and it deserves a proper chance.

Thank you.