#24 hour clock superiority

[sh1zukarul3z]

euro rule

[ancient-rome-au]

My unverified personal gnosis is that Daylight Savings Time (DST) is sacrilegious. Twice a year, DST violently disrupts our perception of and connection to the gradual seasonal drift of sunrise, sunset, and the length of the day. As I have gotten older, I have taken more notice of the annual patterns of the sun. I feel like I acquired an "internal calendar" in the same way that sunrise and sunset regulate our "internal clock" (circadian rhythm).

As an illustration, here is how DST shifts our perception of sunrise and sunset relative to a fixed system of 24 hours in Rome [source]: 

I’m pretty sure that if Emperor Julian had succeeded in saving polytheism that we wouldn't have to deal with DST in the modern era. The cycle of the sun would be widely considered sacred and messing with our perception of it like this would be sacrilegious.

By the way, permanent Standard Time is superior from a public health perspective to permanent Daylight Savings Time.

[8-dermestid]

it's like as if somebody was gripping my throat

relationship: eyeless jack x reader

word count: 6.2k

links: available to read on ao3

warnings: canon-typical violence

M. Eerie National Park is one of the most boring places to work. You hike the trails to make sure nobody is trying to stay after hours, clean up garbage, and befriend the local cryptid.

Nobody knows about that last part except for you.

(like/reblogs are greatly appreciated, requests are open ✷)

“—Shocking news for M. Eerie National Park. Another victim, twenty-one-year-old Penn State student Ryan Sheppard, discovered on the property—”

You dig into your food, tuning out the broadcast as you scarf down your lunch and prepare for work. You rinse your bowl, toss it into the dishwasher, and move into the bedroom to change out of your pajamas and into your uniform. You pull up your cargo pants and pull on a green collared shirt with the M. Eerie National Park logo embroidered on the pocket. After deodorant, you pull on your hiking boots, grab your jacket and bag, and leave towards your car.

She’s a beat-up old thing, but she gets you to and from work without too much trouble. It’s a short, red, rust-damaged Honda Civic. Your car’s engine is strong, and it, other than the external imperfections and duct-taped-on mirror, has treated you well, and you’ve never felt the need to trade up.

(Nor the want, being a park ranger hardly gives you enough money to keep your head above the water, but you love it, and working an office job sounds worse than pulling all your toenails out at once with rusty pliers.)

The car sputters to life, rumbling beneath you in her comfortable and familiar way. You look down at the radio—the clock reads 14:37—you’ll be on time for the start of your shift. The drive isn’t exciting, and you’d take your boring drive over a three-hour drive to the office any day. Your job is so easy, too, a simple routine you follow every day—go in during the afternoon, hike the trails before closing, watch for lost folks and garbage, and close up the park. It’s easy, so easy that your job is almost dull. You walk into the break room, your lunch in your non-dominant hand, and stumble into a meeting.

“Oh. Hey guys.” You hesitate, creeping over to put your food in the fridge. Usually, the break room was empty, and Leslie, your superior in the standard uniform with her beat-up clipboard, was marching back and forth like a drill sergeant.

In the kindest way possible, you hope she retires. She’s been working here for so long and managing everything that she deserves some R-and-R. Leslie is the backbone of the team, and one would have to pry her position from her cold, dead hands (even then, it would still be a fight), but she should consider passing the job to someone else.

You plop down in one of the three empty chairs. Two of your coworkers transferred to another park (quite suddenly, too, no two-week notice or anything). It’s not good, especially considering they were the only other people working your shift.

“Alright, we can wrap up this meeting with a quick problem,” Leslie begins again, waving quietly to you. “Guests have been reporting stolen items more than usual, lots of jackets, gloves, boots, ooh—food, too,” Leslie jots something down on her clipboard, “To be honest, I think people are just misplacing things and blaming it on the wildlife, but if you see anything, just radio me, and I’ll come to help you sort it out.”

You nod. People leave things where they shouldn’t be all the time—you can't count the number of times families wake up with ransacked coolers because they leave them outside unprotected.

Leslie sighs, “And—look—there have been more than a few teens sneaking off into the woods before we close. Please, I don’t want another 24-hour challenge incident on our record. Keep an eye out for them. I mean it.”

Everyone affirms, whether with a nod or a “Yes, Leslie.”

The team filters out of the break room, and one of your coworkers (with wild, dark hair and stickers nearly smothering the Molly on her nametag) bounds to your side like a deer.

“You think it’s a bear?” She asks. She’s practically bouncing off the walls despite Park Ranger being the least thrilling job on the planet.

You shrug. You don’t carry the same energy that Molly does. She is just a wee sixteen-year-old at your side working her first big girl job, and any excitement at this middle-of-nowhere park is a godsend for her.

“Well, it could be a bear. But, I mean, a bear wouldn’t be stealing men’s jackets or boots.” she suggests, “Maybe not a bear, or maybe it’s those kids again… Remember the kids from a few weeks ago?”

Oh. Oh, of course, you remember those kids. Three of them, two girls and some in-between kid, all seventeen and seniors at the local high school (local being the closest high school, which was thirty miles away) that Leslie caught trying to stay overnight for some silly internet challenge. One of them, the in-between kid with the flattest hair you’ve seen in a while, brought an Ouija board because of some weird internet gossip about your park. It was strange—super, duper weird—because the couple (apparently, maybe? You aren’t sure) ditched the third girl to make out under an abandoned deck. Leslie only caught them because the third (a taller, more heavyset girl with colored hair) was terrified of some tall, slender man who scared her on the internet.

“God, don’t remind me.” You finally say. You still remember the three of them yelling at each other, Leslie dragging them out by the collars of their shirts like scruffed cats after they got caught (because one of the girls was a crybaby, their words, not yours).

Leaving the break room and finally feeling the sun this morning, Molly waves you goodbye and starts jogging down her favorite trail. She’s got energy for miles; if she were older and wiser, she could compete with Leslie.

Speaking of, Leslie pats your shoulder. Her grey hair shimmers in the sun, and she, with wrinkles showcasing her long and fulfilling life, smiles down at you.

“Afternoon, kiddo. You doing alright?”

You nod, more focused on the heavy workload you have in front of you.

Leslie pats your back like a coach would to her favorite player, “I know Josh and Ryan quitting hasn’t been easy on you.” Her voice is too solemn for a work transfer, “I’ll be working tonight, too, if that eases you.”

You perk up, half with relief and half because working with Leslie is the best. It’s comforting to have a superior like her around when people start getting wild in the woods; she’s good at grabbing people by the scruff and dragging them out, kicking and hollering.

“You can take care of the Southern Reach, yeah? You’re a big kid—you can handle it.”

You’re more than just a kid, but between her being near retirement age while you are fresh out of college—you are a kid in her eyes. You nod, already unhooking your heavy flashlight from its carabiner.

“That’s the ticket. I’ll take Northern. We’ll meet back up here for closing.”

“No, no, I’ll handle closing.” You persuade, “Come on, Leslie, I can handle closing a big gate. Just handle Northern and go home.”

She debates it, rolling the idea around in her mind before conceding. “Alright, kiddo. Just this once, though.”

At first, with the sun just touching the horizon, your checks go well, and you clean up a few empty beer cans along the southernmost trails. Your trash bag is light, which is a plus. You don’t need to pull your flashlight out until past seven in the evening when the moon peeks out behind you. You find an empty can of soup (chicken-noodle but with star-shaped pasta instead of noodles). The top looks messily cut, as if with a knife, which isn’t at all uncommon.

Except, well, this can has a pull tab disregarded by the previous user. You turn over the can in your palm, examining the shredded metal and paper label, and toss it into the bag with the rest of the trash.

Further, closer to the center of the trails, there is another disemboweled can. You pick up one, the lid is also ripped off, the pull-tab forgotten about, yet this soup can has more than half of it ripped off into a swirly shape, almost like someone was desperate for something to eat. It’s Campbell’s, not Grandma’s cooking.

There’s another can further into the woods, more shredded than the last, with a deep dent in the center; the can was clean, too clean, which is both weird and disgusting. Dogs shouldn’t eat this stuff concentrated—too much sodium.

Another one; there is a streaky, black substance marbling with some soup still sitting at the bottom of the can; another, and more of that black slime. You carefully pick up each one and add it to the bag. The next can has more of that substance—almost too much. The smell is putrid. It burns inside your nose, and you get a whiff of formaldehyde or something that reeks of death.

You keep traveling into the woods, finding more debris and litter, an old chewed-through sleeve, a jacket, and a glove smattered with that syrup-y oil. There’s something wet beneath your palm, and thank the stars you chose to bring your gloves this morning. It’s red, with a black slime marbled in it. It’s sticky between your fingers, and it smells awful. You follow the trail of red and black with your flashlight.

The source is the mangled carcass of a hiker wearing a high-vis vest. You suck in a breath and reach for your walkie-talkie. It’s sickening, and you can’t stop looking at the body as you radio for your superior.

“Leslie? Leslie, you there?” You plead, hands shaking and mind racing. Of all the people you want to pick up, it’s her. She’s been working here since before you were born—maybe she’s found a mutilated person in her time working the trails.

The silence stretches for an eternity until you hear a familiar voice on the other end.

“Hey, I’m here. What’s going on?” She asks.

“Uhm, I don’t know,” You make the mistake of looking at it, at the remnants of a man, at the carcass before you. “I don’t even know what could do something like this.” God, it makes you sick, but you can’t look away.

“Come on, talk to me,” She barks, her voice firm with years of seniority, “What are you seeing? Talk.”

You swallow. “Some hiker got attacked. They’re not responsive,” You mutter into your little plastic lifeline. “I’m off Trapper’s—I don’t know—Christ, I’m going to be sick.”

“...Okay,” Leslie replies quickly, “Are you safe?”

You don’t know the answer to that question. You swallow a lump in your throat as you look frantically for movement in the dark woods. Leslie says something, but you can’t hear it over the sound of your heart hammering away in your ears. You see movement between the trees, the primal part of your brain attempting to identify any immediate danger. Everything is spinning, it reeks of death, and Leslie’s voice is staticky because of the shitty speakers.

“Answer me! Come on, kiddo, where are you?” She shouted, her voice laced with harsh static.

Your flashlight flickers, and you hope whoever ordered these flashlights has something horrible happen to them. Something rustles in the bush. The only thing you have to protect yourself is a bag of loose garbage and your shitty flashlight. Leslie is shouting so loud you can only hear half of her words. Whatever emerges from that bush will eat you alive—you’re sure of it.

The stench of death gets heavier as a figure crawls out from beneath the foliage, wearing a dark hoodie and a blue mask. There’s blood and guts caked under their fingernails, and they look filthy and smell worse. They lock eyes with you and try to stand, stumbling and letting out a near-inhuman cry. You hold your heavy flashlight like a baton—all it’s useful for, considering the lightbulb works when it wants to—as the masked stranger lets out a wheezy breath and crawls towards you.

You grip the flashlight so hard your hands are shaking, taking careful steps back to maintain some distance between both of you. Their approach doesn’t stop. They reach and grab at your leg and pull you to the ground. Your head is spinning as it collides with the damp earth, and you feel two hands digging into your abdomen, sharp nails scratching and attempting to burrow into your stomach. You shout as their ice-cold hands scrape across your body, their claws raking across tender flesh.

You thrash and try to push them away, but they hold you down with one hand and remove their mask with the other.

You always said you’d know what to do if you were in a slasher flick. You always called the protagonists stupid for freezing up in front of certain death, never thinking about what it felt like, knowing you were probably going to die. You look them in the eye—more so what’s left of them, staring into two tar-filled sockets where their eyes would be—and unable to do anything.

You lay back, each breath barely making it in and out of your lungs. They stop, hands still pressed firmly against you. They crane their neck, probably just as surprised as you for simply giving up. They tug your shirt back down, pressing a palm over it and smoothing the fabric with their palm.

It reignites something in you because before either of you can register what’s happening, they’re squealing in pain as you hit them upside the head with your flashlight. You scramble away, pulling yourself to your feet and running blindly to the main trail.

You don’t stop, even after the demonic cries die out under the sound of the beginning storm. You push and push yourself until you nearly collide with Leslie.

“Stars—! Kid, where the hell were you? What the hell happened to you?”

She shines the light across your face, then brushes a leaf from your coat. It’s hard to think about speaking; Leslie knows you’re trying.

“Hey, it’s okay. Come on, I’ll drive you home, kiddo.”

“But the—”

“Don’t worry about it,” She says as softly as she can, “You’ve done all you can do. Anything about you that I should be worried about?”

You pat your abdomen, a few lines of brown blood staining the front. You shake your head, and Leslie holds off on grilling you for details.

✷𓃞 ✷

She drives you home in her big pickup truck (she even went through a drive-thru and got you something to eat on the way home). She pats your back as you dig through the bottom of the bag for scraps.

“Don’t think about coming back tomorrow—Partly because you’ve been through hell tonight—but also because there’s going to be an investigation. Look—take it easy, maybe go see your doctor, don’t come back until at least next Tuesday.”

Leslie pulls over to the side of your street and pulls out a box of cigarettes. “I mean it, take it easy. You do enough work while you’re on the clock; don’t worry about anything—I have people that can cover your shift if you need more time off.”

You nod, gathering your things and walking towards your house, digging your keys from your jacket to escape the rainy weather. You shut the door behind you, and Leslie walks towards her truck, a thin line of smoke trailing behind her.

You open the door, and a warm puff of air welcomes you home. It’s quiet and dark, leaving you on edge from tonight’s incident. Instead of relaxing—like Leslie practically ordered you to—you drop your bag at the front door and book it to your computer. It hums to life, and you punch in your password and open your web browser. Surprisingly, being attacked by a person-shaped thing did not perturb your furious web-searching.

Creature in the woods near me

Masked creature, person that tried to eat me?

Blue man— you hastily hit backspace as Blue Man Group auto-fills in your search bar.

You keep trying outrageous combinations of words, eventually finding a near-defunct blog with a picture of the freaky humanoid that almost killed you.

EYELESS JACK. Well, the name fits. At least you’ve finally got a name for that face. You read through this article, which recounts this woman—a hiker-slash-rock-climber, to be more specific—coming into contact with a human-ish guy. They had a few photos of deep claw wounds that scarred over pale on her dark skin. You jot down the name, continuing to dig into the incident recounted by this woman.

You pause and close all your curtains and turn off all the lights (and you get yourself a drink to keep yourself awake). Sinking into your chair again, you continue the deep dive into this Eyeless Jack fellow, feeling like a detective from some once-popular show that wasn’t that good. You keep searching—jotting down leads for your search—until the sun is peeking over the horizon, and you can hardly keep your eyes open. Eyeless Jack has been around for longer than you first believed—they’ve probably been terrorizing after-dark visitors of your park for years, right under your nose.

Are there more missing-person cases? Did any of your coworkers who quit unexpectedly actually have a reason? God, this journey to the weirdest parts of the internet has left you with more questions than answers.

You look down at the big sticky-note pad you used for notes. It looks like you fell off the deep end with your feverish scrawling, smeared ink, and lots of quick notes about disembowelment, kidney removal, and even cult activity. You think this may need another night of internet excavation to answer those (and inevitably, come up with more, even crazier, questions). Based on a few accounts of unwanted kidney removal in their sleep, you think about getting something to eat—

—and staying as far from your bed as possible.

✷𓃞 ✷

You can’t even eat breakfast without being tempted by your thirst for knowledge; it’s unbearable. You don’t even want to think of spending more than a few days at home. Hopefully, the police hurry up and finish so you can start your investigation.

You quickly rinse and dry your empty dish, filling a glass of water and flopping onto the couch. Surfing channels and finding something mindlessly entertaining will probably take your mind off things.

The news is boring—talking about the recent storm off the southern coast—and some cooking show. A history documentary—about someone you don’t care for—a jewelry channel, another news channel, and a kids’ show.

(Tempting, but no.)

The local news, though not mindless, is entertaining. There’s an over-top camera view of the park. Dozens of police cruisers and K-9 units are parked—and you can see your car, your old, rusty girl in the lot—Cops are infesting every corner of your TV, some moving into the woods toward Trapper’s, others lingering to talk in the view of the helicopter. It cuts to a news anchor recapping the incident from last night. They think it’s a bear attack. Leslie says it was a bear attack. Your coworkers say it was a bear attack, and Wildlife Removal will deal with it.

They don’t know anything—Jack tore into that hiker like a wild animal—and left the poor guy’s insides all over the forest floor.

You don’t stop watching the news until they start talking about the weather, where you only half-listen. There’s going to be a storm tonight. The teams at your job are probably going to try to recover the body and bring it to the morgue before it starts raining.

You turn off the TV after that. You examine your abdomen, five short lines across your belly where their claws made contact. You decide to go to the bathroom to clean and dress them.

“Better to be safe than sorry.” You tell yourself.

After a few cotton balls soaked in alcohol and big bandaids later, everything is clean enough and about as well-dressed as you can, considering your supplies.

There’s not much to do at home, and trying to take your mind off things with your usual hobbies isn’t working. You even try scrolling mindlessly online, but you can’t stop thinking about last night.

Why did they stop—and so suddenly?

You lift your shirt and brush your thumb over the bandaids on your belly, the skin still too hot and tender. Maybe you were just lucky, stupidly lucky. You pick up your home phone and dial Leslie’s number. She at least deserves a warning about what’s out there.

“...What are you doing?”

“Leslie,” there’s some strain in your tone, “Hey, Leslie. How are things?”

“You’re calling about work? You’re supposed to be on vacation.”

Yes. Yes, you are.

“I know, but—Look, it’s about last night. I know you specifically told me not to do any digging, but—”

“Kid,” She cuts you off. You can picture her frustration as she probably rubs at her temples, “Tell me you did not do that.”

Yes. Yes, you did.

She sighs dramatically. “You work too hard—even when I order you to stop thinking about work, you do it anyway.”

“Look, it wasn’t an animal. It was a guy.”

“...What.”

You pull the phone from your ear. You probably do sound crazy. And you will continue to sound crazy when you talk about what you found online from defunct blogs from 1999. No matter how you try to spin it—every time you start talking—you can not come up with the words to explain that the scary internet creature is real. Leslie will not believe you, and who the hell would?

“...Nevermind. I have to go. I have, uhh, laundry in the dryer.” You mutter.

“Well, feel better, and stop going on the internet—you’ll scare yourself out of your skin with stuff people make up for fun,” Leslie sighs, then her voice goes soft, “I mean it. Take care of yourself. We’re thinking of you, kiddo. Oh, and Molly says hi.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. “...Well, let Molly know I said ‘Hi’ back.”

“Will do. Okay, see you next week.”

You hang up.

✷𓃞 ✷

It’s damp. The fallen leaves are starting to rot and turn mushy under their boots. Jack tears through another can with their claws and downs a mixture of soup and soaked-through chicken. They drink, grinding the sinewy chicken and too-soft between their teeth, swallowing harshly and curling up at the taste. Police swarming the woods like ants to fruit has been awful; Jack is tired. Everything burns, they’re tired of running, and they’re still so hungry.

Other foods are necessary to Jack’s diet—they can’t live off meat. They need carbs and stuff—but if Jack has to spend more time seeing faces, they will start digging for their kidneys. They collapse underneath a fallen tree, curling up like a woodlouse. If the police find them, Jack just hopes it’s quick.

They can hear men shouting somewhere nearby with their big, angry dogs.

Jack falls asleep there, eventually, and they don’t know what time it is when they wake up, just that it’s dark out again, and it’s so quiet.

They survive off stolen clothing and soup cans between stays at the manor. Though their vision is gone, Jack still lives with psychosis (one would figure getting their eyes melted with hot tar would prevent visual hallucinations). Eating human flesh, though a taboo solution to their symptoms, allowed Jack to clear their mind and function.

Jack sunk deeper under the heavy log when they heard footsteps and a whining dog.

“I know, boy.” A man says, coughing as the air smells of cigarettes.

Jack’s nose burns at the smell. The dog sniffs at the earth and knocks aside a pile of leaves with its nose, whining and howling. The officer kicks aside the leaves and sighs.

“...Alright,” He says, the metal bits of the dog’s vest clicking together as the dog grows restless, thrashing against it.

The man hunches down, the sound of a plastic bag crinkling in his palm, muttering something to the canine.

“Atta-boy. Come on, Chester, it’s damn creepy out here.” With the tug of the leash, the officer and his canine retreat out of the woods.

When the two are out of earshot, Jack squeezes out from under the log and feels around in the dirt, sniffing the air and only smelling wet earth. Their chest tugs in a sickened sort of way, and they sink back into their hiding place and curl up into a ball. The rain picks up again. Wind howls and thunder crackles in the sky, rattling the earth.

Their new jacket, which they snatched off an unsuspecting hiker, was Jack’s only protection from hypothermia stealing the heat from their digits. Jack breathes into their palms, hot air flowing across their stiff fingers (which Jack promptly stuffed into their underarms to warm them up).

The wind doesn't hesitate to rob Jack’s already-deprived body of what little it has. Jack can’t stop thinking about how hungry they are—and how they see faces melting in their periphery whenever their mind wanders. They pick at the raw edges of their sockets in a measly attempt to soothe. It doesn't work. Nothing works anymore, even when Jack can consume human meat. After only a few hours, Jack’s skin is already itching with the need to keep consuming, to keep eating, to stave off their psychosis by any means necessary. They tug—and tug, and tug, and tug until they’re shaking—at their raw skin, where hardened pitch meets seared flesh and patchy brows. It’s unbearably cold, it’s so fucking cold, and going back to that hellish manor sounds like paradise right about now.

But that’s not an option.

✷𓃞 ✷

Tuesday finally comes around, and you can return to work.

You pack two lunches today. Your bag is just leftovers in a takeaway container (dinner from yesterday), and the other is a sandwich with a few slices of Swiss cheese and meat (far more meat than you’ve ever used at once). It’s got other things on it; you aren't going to give some hungry person—who’s probably been living alone in the wilderness for who knows how long—a boring sandwich. Too bad if they don’t like mayo (Well, you hope they like mayo, lest they rip you in two for the offense of a condiment on real-people food).

You fill your water bottle, grab your keys, and head out the door.

Leslie’s truck is humming outside. Your car is still in the lot at work. You were not in any condition to drive after, and Leslie would not have let that happen. She moves her bags as you climb into the passenger seat. You set down your things on the floor, trying to conceal the second lunch you made.

“...Glad to have you back, got everything?” Leslie asks.

You nod, jingling your keys.

She flicks her turn signal to the left and drives onto the road, turning right onto the main road.

The car is quiet, except for the radio playing old 80s hits, thick with the tension that you almost died the last time you went to work.

“You can work wherever you want today. Molly’s willing to work with your plans. I can imagine not wanting to do trail walks after, well, you know what.”

“I’ll be okay,” You say, ”I’ll do trails today. Not a problem.”

Leslie grips the steering wheel tight. “You’re sure? After you know what, I figured you would want to quit,” She turns left, “I wouldn’t blame you.”

“No. I’m a little shaken up, but I’m okay.” You say, looking out the window.

Leslie makes some noise like she knows you’re lying. Your brush with death should have turned you off from any outdoorsy work, but here you are, making lunches for the thing that tried to rip you open like an orange. Maybe your too-empathetic and hopeful parts hope this sandwich helps them out. Everything you read about them was far from pleasant—Some of it didn’t seem real.

“A mixture of blood and hot tar poured into the eye sockets.” You recall.

This stuff about Eyeless Jack you read felt like fiction, but what you saw that night was real. God, it sends shivers down your spine, makes you feel ill—you don’t know what you would do if put in that scenario (blinded, abandoned, and left to die in the woods with an insatiable hunger for human flesh? Jack has been active for years, all alone, you think, you’re not sure how you would last even half as long).

“...Did they find anything?”

Leslie sighs. “No. But it’s an animal, so it’ll return next time it’s hungry. We’ve got more people on watch. Hopefully, we can get Wilderness Removal or Animal Control on it, maybe kill it if we have to.”

You hope not. Leave the critter that keeps eating people alone; they should just leave a plate of food out.

“Maybe don’t try to hunt down the wild critter-person like an animal.” You think. The rest of the ride is silent. You pull up to the park and see Molly chatting with a guest. She spots you looking out the window and waves, delighted to see you again.

“I wanted to give you this in case anyone tries giving you trouble.”

She passes you a black cylinder that’s roughly four inches tall. The button on top and the spray nozzle tells you it’s pepper spray.

“...Thanks, Leslie.”

“Anytime.”

You pull on your coat and leave your lunch in the fridge, taking the other out. Then, you jog over to your car and abandon the pepper spray in the cup holder; you hope that this choice won’t get you killed tonight, but you need to start on a good foot.

Your day-to-day rhythm comes back to you. You warmed yourself up on the more populated trails, picking up cans and directing folks about. It’s sparse, only seeing small groups unfazed by the recent killings (perhaps through ignorance or a belief that death is beneath them). The dread is heavier when you walk an empty trail that’s usually lively with people, even during the day, when dangers lurking in the bushes are more visible. As the sun creeps across the sky—and lower towards the horizon—fewer and fewer people choose to risk hiking after dark, lest they get disemboweled like the last guy who tried.

By 19:00, it’s empty. There’s nobody around other than you. But you know they’re still out there, listening to your every movement (and every breath and every hitch).

You scan the edge of the woods where they’re probably hiding, carefully stepping over the foliage while you intentionally stray from the carefully manicured path.

The trails are well-kept. The landscaping crew works diligently and takes pride in their work, keeping them free of debris and roots that would make the footpath a challenging terrain. Beyond the edges of the dirt roads, however, the forest is wild; vines writhe and twist along the floor, every plant fighting for sunlight in the undergrowth, with bigger-than-your-head leaves and trees wearing thick coats of creeping ivy. You witness the cycles of life and death within this delicate ecosystem—young trees climb higher and higher, growing larger and larger; insects feast upon the trees, rely on the trees, live and die by the trees; the trees, after centuries of life, die and rot; the lichen and insects feast on the rotting wood and refresh the cycle anew.

It makes you feel small and insignificant, as the world around you lives and dies without even noticing your existence. It’s like being surrounded by other people’s ideas in a museum, thousands of other people, forgotten by time, remembered by their art, or their shoes, or their stories through other people’s mouths.

Your boot slips on slick earth before you can continue your mental spiral about your insignificance as one among billions. Your boots squeal against pulpy mud and you nearly slip down into a strange recess; the earth is slick with that same slime, though it is more grainy and pus-like in texture. You follow the streaks in the muddy ground, where it slips underneath a large, rotten log.

You shine your light underneath, spotting a shivering, cobalt-blue mask underneath layers of jackets and stolen fabrics.

Maybe they’re sleeping, and waking them up (though with the promise of real people food) may upset them enough to maul you like a bear and eat you for lunch instead.

They shift and wiggle into the recess they carved out for themselves, hearing some shuffling outside of their burrowing. They suck in a deep breath through their nose, and the smell of human sears the insides of their lungs like smoke. They hunch a little bit, curling into a more upward sitting position, sniffing the air, inhaling once, twice, then a third time until they have that scent burned into their hindbrain. They can’t stop drooling, salivating at the thought of finally feeling okay again, having something to cut through the smoky, blurry feeling. They hear shuffling, their prey slinking back as they curled forward. They can’t suppress the growl that rumbles in their throat, teeth licked behind the mask. They don’t move like a person in preparation for a chase. Jack slips out of their nook, their body curled forward and arms hanging limp.

Jack reaches up and peels the mask like a second skin, revealing tar-filled sockets that bore down at your scent.

Jack lurches forward like they’re on a leash, sinking their claws into your arm and digging in, etching out five deep grooves, each weeping a stream of blood that makes Jack’s mind run wild. Without thinking entirely, Jack pulls your arm forward and sinks their teeth into your bicep, leaning their body weight against you, knocking you both to the floor. There’s kicking and screaming, high-pitched whining as Jack’s teeth tear through skin and sinew, coating your arm in blood and spit.

You cry out, trying to pull their steel trap of a jaw out of your arm—managing to loosen their upper jaw, and by shoving them away with the heel of your palm, you manage to rip out their lower jaw, too.

They shiver, licking their teeth over and over again. Feral, animalistic delight rattles their whole body; they’re giddy at the taste of your blood, but they hold some restraint at the sound of their name.

Your breathing is frantic, and your heart is hammering in your throat. Jack’s breathing slows, and they quit licking their teeth. You’re not sure where to start. You hold your breath as Jack’s tar-filled sockets bore down into yours. Their breathing is heavy, and there’s saliva dribbling down their chin. You squeeze your arm, your skin clammy with blood and sweat, while Jack stays still above you.

Your mouth is nailed and twisted shut like you’re at the morgue. Jack doesn’t finch as they, strangely again, don’t tear you to shreds like the last guy. You sigh, which comes out as an exasperated laugh, your chest squirming like a bucket of mealworms as Jack’s warm, blood-soaked breath enters your nose. Their hair is long and matted, greasy and cool-brown in color; their skin is a deep gray like the living dead, bulked up by layers of stolen sweaters and pants to keep warm.

“I, uhh…” You start, “I brought you a sandwich if you want it. I didn't know what you liked, so I just put a little bit of ever—”

Jack’s knee presses into your ribcage as they climb over you, feeling around on the ground for your bag. A wheeze rattles from your throat, and they dump your belongings onto the forest floor unceremoniously, sniffing the contents like a tracker hound.

They pinch the bag between their claws, disemboweling the brown paper bag, the contents hitting the floor with a wet thud.

You watch them eat, tearing through plastic and paper with their teeth, eating with no sensibility nor dignity. The sandwich is shoved into their mouth and swallowed in about fifteen seconds, and a crushed bag of potato chips you forgot at the bottom of your bag perishes, too. They crack open the plastic container full of your dinner and hesitate, neck craned in your direction. It takes a few moments to find them, but Jack finds the metal utensils you packed for yourself, showing the container to you.

“Oh, well, yeah. That’s mine. My dinner, I mean. You can have it if you want.”

They shake their head in a fit.

They push it in your direction, a flatly affective expression on the remainder of their face, but their body language pushes your cold leftovers on you with a lot of force. You gingerly take the container from their claws, crack it open, and eat. Jack listens attentively to you, sockets trained on you, on the sound of metal utensils clinking against your mouth, the sound of you swallowing your meal. Their hands squirm and play with the dirt and leaves, excited to share a meal of leftovers with somebody they nearly killed twice. Your arm is throbbing as you carefully feed yourself, your jacket’s sleeve shredded. Hopefully, your emergency fund can cover a trip to the hospital for however many stitches you’ll need, as well as the antibiotics you’ll be taking (or paying for amputation if this gets infected, but you try not to think about that as this demonic forest creature is enraptured by you eating supper with them). You scrape the bottom of the container, not missing a single morsel.

They move their hand under their chin, and you recognize what Jack is doing. You took a few classes in uni, so you pick up on the ASL as soon as their hand collides with the other in a neat thank you.

“Oh! You’re welcome,” You say, “Was it good? I was worried if you liked mayo or not.”

They grin. It’s small, subtle, and hard to do with the tar seared to their skin, but there’s a quiet peek of teeth as they chuckle at being understood. They like mayo.

You laugh, too, exhausted and relieved. After so many restless nights worrying about getting your organs surgically removed in your sleep, you’re looking forward to a restful night after the day you’ve had. At the hospital, because you’re arm is looking pretty ugly.

“Look, I think I have to go.”

They tense up.

“I won’t tell anyone about you, I promise,” You sigh, trying not to look down at your bloody limb, “They’re still looking for you, though, so be careful. If you need food, I can try to sneak you some from Lost & Found.”

Jack pats at their pocket, pulling out an old, beat-up phone. They pass it to you, and you type out your number and put it into a contact.

“I’ll, hopefully, see you soon?”

They shrug. It’s probably for the best that they don’t make any promises. Jack walks into the treeline, eventually disappearing from view.

[breakfastteatime]

Comfortember Day 24 - Blankets

(For @sauntering-down to make up for last year's blanket-related angst)

Five years of shift work will mess up anyone’s sleep habits. Cal gets tired at all the wrong times and is wide awake when he shouldn’t be. Except now, there’s no shift pattern ruling his entire existence. It’s all ‘go to this planet you’ve never heard of, hunt down this thing a Jedi Master left for you to find, dodge this crazy Inquisitor woman who wants you dead…’ Cal’s happy to be doing something meaningful again, but it’s a little confusing for his body clock. Cere told him to sleep in, readjust to sleeping regular, routine hours again. He wants to, really, however ‘get more sleep, Cal’ is just another thing he needs to remaster along with his connection to the Force, his lightsaber skills, his social skills in polite company (neither Cere nor Greez appreciate the knuckle cracking), and asking for help…

He shivers and huddles deeper into himself.

Anyway, the point is, if Cal does remember to go to bed during the ship’s night cycle, he tends to be up early. Really early. However, there is someone aboard the Mantis who makes Cal look like a layabout, and that someone is not Cere Junda. It not even BD-1 (he’s currently running some maintenance routines and transferring excess data onto the ship’s computer, clearing space in that happy-scanning head of his.)

No, the true early riser is Greez. Greez and his superior Latero sleep cycle. Four hours – five maximum – and he’s good for the day. Sure, Cal can get by on four or five hours, but it’s better for everyone (and their grocery budget) if he tries sleeping for longer. Greez? No such worries. There’s no struggling through on geysers of caf. Oh no. Greez is the worst kind of morning person.

He enjoys it.

He is cheerful about it.

He seeks early mornings out.

And sometimes, because he knows Cal is awake at all hours out of Bracca-induced necessity rather than any real desire or natural talent, Greez will enter the engine room with caf, hand it over, and, if they’re planetside, give an overview of the weather, before heading back out.

Today they are still in hyperspace, speeding back to Zeffo, and Greez hasn’t been in yet. Cal can hear him singing to himself in the galley, the unmistakable clatter of caf being made.

Might as well get the day started.

Rolling out of bed, Cal winces as his cold toes hit the colder deck. He’d slept in layers last night, curled in a ball, hands tucked into his armpits, and it still hadn’t been enough. He swore the ship always ran colder when they were in hyperspace.

What he wouldn’t do for his old blanket back on Bracca. If only he had the power of foresight rather than psychometry. That way, he could’ve brought it with him on his escape, Wookie-sized though it was.

Lamenting the loss of such comfort, Cal sighs and heads down to the galley. Greez looks over. “Morning, kid. You beat me to it,” he says, so cheerful it hurts, it physically hurts. Cal’s pain only makes Greez smile brighter. “Still not got that whole ‘sleep for longer’ thing down, huh?”

Cal slumps at the table and attempts to scrub the sleep from his eyes. He yawns and stretches, shuddering with the cold.

“Here.” Greez hands over caf. As he does, one of his hands brushes against Cal’s. He pulls back with a gasp. “You’re freezing!”

Cal grips the mug, relishing the warmth. “Ship’s cold,” he mumbles, impressed he’s able to hold any kind of conversation.

Greez stares at him. “Were you cold all night?”

Cal grunts.

This is not the right answer. Greez’s good mood evaporates like rainwater on an engine housing. He slams down his mug, caf sloshing over the sides, and heads off, mumbling to himself under his breath. Cal doesn’t catch it, and he’s too tired to figure out how he’s caused offence this time. Instead, he focuses on finishing his first mug of caf and pouring a second. He’s halfway through that when something big lands on his head.

Big, woollen and so so sososososo soft, love vibes through every thread.

“I’ll never be that big, Grandma Pyloon!”

“Now Greezy, you listen to me. There are days when all you’ll want to do is crawl under a big blanket and leave the galaxy and all its cares behind for a while. And when you do, this blanket will be just the thing you need. That, and it’s always better to have more blanket than less.”

“I haven’t killed you under there, have I?” Greez calls Cal out of the memory.

“N-no!” Cal fights his way free and finds himself staring at the red and silver blanket. It’s all intricately woven into knots and whorls, rich with a floral scent. He can see Greez’s grandma knitting it, humming to herself in the morning sunlight…

“Cal?”

Caf safely placed on the table, Cal runs his hands over it. “I can borrow this?”

“No, it’s yours to keep.”

Head whipping up so fast his neck cracks, Cal stares at Greez. He’s more awake at this hour than he’s ever been. “But your great grandma made it for you!”

“Wait, how’d you – ” Greez catches himself. “You are freaky, you know that?”

“I can’t keep it,” Cal says.

“You are literally snuggling into it.”

“No, I’m not.” Cal cocoons himself within it, within the happy buzzy laughter sunlight love.

“I’m watching you snuggling.”

“Greez – ”

“My great grandma was a knitter. She made a lot of blankets. I’ve got another one in my cabin, same size as that one. Cere’s got one too, and I have more going spare. Do you know what Grandma Pyloon do to me if I took it back from you and let someone in my care freeze because he doesn’t know he can ask for more bedsheets?”

“Uh –” What’s the right response to that? “She… would… be… displeased?”

“Displeased?! She’d chase me with one of her knitting needles and poke me until I remembered my manners. The blanket is yours, Cal.”

Cal sinks into its folds.

“The blanket is yours, Greezy. You do –”

“ – whatever you want with it, okay?”

Reaching for his caf, hoping the mug would hide his quivering lips, Cal nods, blinks hard, and takes a sip. Only when he achieves something close to Jedi decorum does he try speaking. “Thanks, Greez.”

“Anytime.”

[screaming-universe]

Snippet Sunday

Let's pretend it's still Sunday for me ^^

I was on a train for three hours and started writing a third part for my werecat a/b/o series??? (not a direct sequel, I think it would contradict some of what's strongly implied in the first two fics but well)

Snippet is under the cut, please feel yourself tagged if you want to be!

Buck had liked Tommy, had maybe even flirted with him, but that had only lasted until he saw Tommy and Eddie together. Eddie, who was always free in his affections when it came to casual touches, hugged Tommy closely as a greeting and then didn't seem to let go. From saying hi to the moment he needed to let go to climb into the copter, Eddie's right arm stayed around Tommy's waist and Tommy put his arm around Eddie's shoulders.

Omegas are touchy, Philip Buckley would have said but Buck knew better. Humans were touchy, some more so, some less. But strong alphas were supposed to be stoic and above such basic human needs (and Buck failed so badly at that, frankly he was proud of it), unlike frail omegas who were allowed to indulge without risking society's judgemental eye.

So maybe Buck was upset about nothing- Eddie was tactile, he knew that - but it didn't mean that he had to like this. And it only continued: Tommy this and Tommy that, suddenly Tommy was everywhere! Or more precisely: everywhere around Eddie. Going to trivia nights, watching movies, having dinner at Eddie's, going to watch sweaty men beating each other up, being sweaty men beating each other up. Well, maybe not that last one. Buck had seen the bruises and cuts on Eddie during his fight club days and sparring with Tommy just did not compare.

And then there was basketball.

Eddie had asked Buck to come many times but Buck had refused every time. He could play but he just didn't like it. He preferred spending time with Eddie at home, in the kitchen or out with Christopher or maybe going for a drink. Just not basketball.

But now Tommy went along and Eddie had it in his calendar, circled.

So Buck may have lied to Chimney about wanting to go to the basketball game with him as a brotherly (in-law) bonding exercise. And of course Chimney knew as soon as they arrived, which probably meant that Maddie would soon know too. Buck was pissed from the start, from the moment he saw Eddie and Tommy touching, if he was honest with himself (which he certainly wasn't, as he knew even then). That should have been a good indication to not play. But no, like an idiot he went on.

They had come off a 24 h shift just an hour before the game and Buck had taken care to reapply his scent-blocker but he was certainly the exception. Chimney's smell grew stronger as they played, the sweat overpowering the vestiges of his scent-blocker. Buck liked the beta's smell – marriage or not: Chimney was his brother. There were the smells of two other alphas but Buck paid them no attention; these two in particular held no appeal to him.

There was Eddie's smell, which was a rarity outside of the Diazes' home. Eddie had told him once that he'd gotten used to scent-blockers in the Army and since then enjoyed not being clocked as an omega immediately. Things certainly were better than they had been fifty, thirty or even ten years ago, but Buck had observed how some people’s attitude towards Eddie shifted if his scent-blockers grew weak during a long day without any pauses and his smell became noticeable. To Buck, his best friend smelled like home; possibly the best smell in the world, but some people smelled an unmated omega and decided to take that as permission to feel superior and become a creep, to put it as nicely as possible. Normally Eddie's scent was soothing and calming but right now it pissed Buck off and he couldn't tell why.

And then there was Tommy, whose scent Buck had never smelled before. He was an omega too, which maybe would have surprised Buck 1.0, who had not shaken off the stereotypes as much as he'd thought back then, but especially since meeting Eddie and mistaking him for an alpha, Buck had given up trying to guess anybody's secondary sex. Tommy certainly didn't fit the omega stereotype: tall and built, more so than Buck, and he smelled enticing, exciting – even though Buck hated him.

Normally that last thought should have been enough for Buck to step back and take a moment to try and understand what was going on. But right now he was trying to get closer, even if that meant running into Tommy, literally, and then...then Buck got so close so quickly that Eddie was lying on the ground, groaning, and with a hurt ankle. Buck did that. And Buck did not understand.

Buck had some realisations while he tried to distract himself with some bills - which totally did not work. He'd been trying to get closer to Eddie because he'd felt as though Eddie was leaving him out, even though Eddie was just spending time with somebody else, a new friend. Buck knew he’d struggled with the fear of being replaced; he'd had long talks with Doctor Copeland about it. He’d thought he’d been over it, or at least better at recognising it for what it was. Apparently not. Fear of being replaced, that was all it was, right?

And he'd been trying to get closer to Tommy because Tommy was an interesting person and also a hot man, objectively. And also subjectively, when it came to Buck. There had been a reason why Buck had asked for a tour at the 217  after all, and asked Tommy specifically.

He'd wanted attention from his best friend and an attractive man, sue him. Which they actually maybe should, or Eddie at least. Buck had hurt his best friend – if Eddie even wanted to remain friends, Buck could understand if not, and- Buck cut off this catastrophising, spiralling train of thought. Whatever Eddie decided, Buck would learn about it. He'd just have to be patient.

Luckily for him it wasn't a long time between this realisation and a knock to his door that promised a good distraction from his impatience. He opened it and there stood Tommy. Buck didn't know who he was expecting, maybe a neighbour, but definitely not Tommy

[skepwith]

Shipboard Timekeeping for OFMD Fans

Though the pendulum clock existed in 1717, the motion of a ship at sea kept it from working accurately on board. (I guess this was a hint that Prince Ricky’s gifts weren’t really for telling time.) Until the marine chronometer was invented in the 1760s, sailors used an hourglass (the glass) to keep time.

Accurate timekeeping was essential to navigation. To keep the glass on track, every day the captain would determine noontime using a sextant to measure the position of the sun overhead.

Bells and Watches

I couldn’t find any sign of the Revenge’s glass, but you can see the ship’s bell on the quarterdeck, a few feet behind the wheel. The glass would have been placed close to the bell.

The glass held only 30 minutes’ worth of sand, after which it was flipped over and the bell was struck. The first 30 minutes was one bell, then two bells after an hour, three bells after an hour and a half, and so on, until the bell was rung eight times to mark the end of 4 hours.

In the traditional system of watchkeeping used by the British navy, 4 hours was the length of a sailor’s shift, or watch, so eight bells marked the end of one watch and the start of the next. Thirty minutes into the new watch, the bell would be struck once, as the glass was flipped, and so on through all the watches. There were six watches in each 24-hour period.

First watch: 8 p.m.–midnight Middle watch: midnight–4 a.m. Morning watch: 4 a.m.–8 a.m. Forenoon watch: 8 a.m.–noon Afternoon watch: noon–4 p.m. Dog watch: 4 p.m.–8 p.m.

Most crews were divided into two groups (also called watches, e.g., the starboard watch and the larboard watch), with each group working in staggered 4-hour intervals: one watch on, the next watch off, and so on. This meant the sailors had to get their sleep in 4-hour chunks.

The schedule was arranged so that sailors worked a different series of shifts each day; for example, the starboard watch might work the first watch, the morning watch, and the afternoon watch one day and the middle, forenoon, and dog watch the next.

After a mutiny in 1797, the British navy divided the dog watch into two 2-hour watches.

First dog watch: 4 p.m.–6 p.m. Last dog watch: 6 p.m.–8 p.m.

With these shorter watches, the whole crew could eat dinner in the evening, with most crew members eating at 5 p.m. and those on the first dog watch eating at 6.

Of course, this doesn’t really apply to the mythical-pirate world of the Revenge, but it might give you some period-appropriate phrases for your fics if, like me, that’s a thing you’re into.

How to Tell Time Like a Sailor

Shipboard time was told in bells rather than hours of the clock. For example, British naval officers traditionally got up at three bells in the morning watch—5:30 a.m. (ouch). Pirate captains presumably got up whenever they felt like it. Sailors might also give the time as, for example, “six bells,” if it was obvious which watch they were talking about.

Flogging the glass is an expression that means doing something earlier than planned, like arriving early to an appointment. It comes from sailors shaking the ship’s glass to try to make the sand flow faster and shorten their watch. I’m guessing they did this out of sight of their superiors.

The phrase keeping a watch could mean “keeping your eyes peeled,” if for example you were assigned as lookout, but it also meant “working your shift,” whether that was at the the helm, the deck, or the sails. Some crew members, like the cook, were exempted because they had their own work to do—so Roach wouldn’t keep a watch; he’d be too busy cooking.

When the ship was in port, one unlucky crew member was assigned the anchor watch to keep an eye on the ship while everyone else was off duty. Given that they failed to do this even while at sea, I’m guessing the Revenge doesn’t bother with this one.

In the last section I mentioned the larboard watch. Port as an adjective—the port guns, the port watch—wasn’t in use until 1842; before then people used the word larboard. (Which had to be confusing because it sounds so much like starboard, but whatever, I’m no sailor.) So our 1717 crew would probably have said larboard instead of port. But this is a case where being historically accurate might confuse your readers, so I’d err on the side of not giving a fuck. No doubt David Jenkins would approve.

Sources: Wikipedia, historicnavalfiction [dot] com, Merriam-Webster

[imperatorrrrr]

I need thoughts on this because surely this must have happened ONCE. Like you know how the American date format goes month-day-year while the European goes day-month-year (the superior one btw don’t @ me.) And sometimes it’s obvious like 8/31/24 because there’s not 31 months but sometimes when it’s like 6/8/24 it can be either August 6th or June 8th depending on the format and since Nico is from Europe I just have imagined this situation of him getting a date wrong and like showing up for something that isn’t happening that day.

Anon, you have no idea the whirlwind you uncovered here with this ask.

So I bought this ask to my favorite unhinged server (shoutout to the brainrot crew) and we ended up populating many channels talking about this because its not only the date format but so much more that the European players, like Nico, need to adjust to.

There's the metric system versus the imperial system or the fact that temperature is measured differently here or like the lack of predominant use of the twenty four hour clock in the States.

Then we started talking about more specific things like measurements for baking or cooking and like oven temperatures or like driving directions with miles versus meters or maybe even something like driving on the other side of the road.

There's so many things for the, usually, very young hockey players to get adjusted to and to get adjusted to quite quickly.

This also prompted many potential fun fic ideas as well.

I'm just thinking about rookie!Nico and rookie!Jesper navigating the big bad American everything together.

(yes I know Nico spent a year in Canada before he even made it to the States)

[bryantselectricalltd]

Expert Residential and Commercial Electrical Services in Rimbey by Bryant’s Electrical Ltd.

When it comes to reliable and professional electrical services in Rimbey, Bryant’s Electrical Ltd. is the go-to provider for both residential and commercial needs. With years of experience and a commitment to quality, Bryant’s Electrical Ltd. has established itself as a trusted name in the community, offering comprehensive electrical solutions that ensure safety, efficiency, and peace of mind.

Whether you’re a homeowner looking to upgrade your electrical system or a business owner seeking reliable commercial installations, Bryant’s Electrical Ltd. delivers top-notch services tailored to meet the specific needs of every project.

Why Choose Bryant’s Electrical Ltd.?

At Bryant’s Electrical Ltd., we believe in providing superior service at every stage of your electrical project. Here’s why customers in Rimbey trust us for all their electrical needs:

Skilled and Licensed Electricians: Our electricians are fully licensed and up-to-date with the latest safety codes and industry standards, ensuring that every job is done safely and efficiently.

Comprehensive Electrical Solutions: We offer a full range of services, from simple residential repairs to complex commercial installations, making us a one-stop shop for all your electrical needs.

Customer-Centered Approach: We prioritize clear communication, honest pricing, and exceptional customer service, ensuring a smooth experience from start to finish.

24/7 Emergency Services: Electrical issues don’t stick to business hours, and we don’t either. Our team is available around the clock to handle emergencies and restore your electrical systems quickly.

Residential Electrical Services in Rimbey

Your home’s electrical system is crucial to your comfort and safety, and at Bryant’s Electrical Ltd., we understand the importance of keeping it in top condition. Our residential electrical services are designed to handle everything from new installations to troubleshooting and repairs, ensuring your home is safe, functional, and energy-efficient.

1. Electrical Installations

From new home construction to renovations, we offer a wide range of installation services, including wiring, lighting, and appliance installation. Whether you’re adding a new room, upgrading your kitchen, or installing outdoor lighting, our team provides safe and efficient installation services.

2. Electrical Panel Upgrades

Older homes often have electrical panels that cannot support today’s energy demands. We specialize in upgrading outdated electrical panels to ensure your home can handle modern appliances, electronics, and heating systems without overloading circuits.

3. Lighting Design and Installation

We offer customized lighting solutions to enhance your home’s appearance and energy efficiency. Whether it’s installing ambient indoor lighting, landscape lighting, or energy-efficient LED fixtures, our team can help you create the perfect lighting design for your space.

4. Home Rewiring

If your home has old or faulty wiring, it can pose serious safety risks. Our electricians can assess your home’s wiring and perform complete or partial rewiring, ensuring that your electrical system is both safe and up to code.

5. Electrical Repairs and Troubleshooting

From flickering lights to power outages, we handle all types of electrical repairs. Our electricians are skilled in troubleshooting and diagnosing problems, ensuring quick and effective repairs to keep your home running smoothly.

Commercial Electrical Services in Rimbey

Businesses in Rimbey rely on efficient electrical systems to ensure smooth operations, productivity, and safety. Bryant’s Electrical Ltd. specializes in providing commercial electrical services that cater to a variety of industries, offering everything from installations to maintenance and emergency repairs.

1. Commercial Electrical Installations

We provide electrical installations for new commercial buildings, renovations, and system upgrades. Whether you need a new lighting system, electrical outlets, or specialized wiring for your business, our electricians will ensure everything is installed according to the highest safety standards.

2. Energy-Efficient Lighting Solutions

Effective lighting is essential for any business, and upgrading to energy-efficient LED lighting can significantly reduce operational costs. Our team specializes in designing and installing commercial lighting solutions that improve your workspace’s functionality while lowering energy bills.

3. Electrical System Upgrades

As your business grows, so do your electrical demands. We offer system upgrades that ensure your commercial space can handle increased power loads without the risk of overloaded circuits or frequent outages. This includes upgrading electrical panels, wiring systems, and energy management systems.

4. Wiring for Commercial Spaces

Whether you’re opening a new office, retail store, or industrial facility, we provide expert wiring services that ensure your building has the electrical infrastructure it needs to operate smoothly. Our team handles everything from network cabling to specialized machinery wiring.

5. Commercial Electrical Repairs and Maintenance

Unexpected electrical issues can disrupt business operations and cost you valuable time and money. Bryant’s Electrical Ltd. provides fast and reliable repair services to minimize downtime and get your business back on track. We also offer preventive maintenance services to keep your systems running efficiently and avoid unexpected breakdowns.

24/7 Emergency Electrical Services

Electrical emergencies can happen at any time, and when they do, you need a fast and reliable response. Bryant’s Electrical Ltd. offers 24/7 emergency electrical services to homes and businesses in Rimbey. Whether it’s a power outage, electrical fire, or malfunctioning equipment, our skilled electricians are available around the clock to provide immediate assistance.

We prioritize safety and efficiency in every emergency situation, working to diagnose and resolve the issue as quickly as possible to restore normalcy to your home or business.

Safety and Compliance: Our Top Priority

At Bryant’s Electrical Ltd., we understand that safety is a major concern for both residential and commercial electrical systems. That’s why we strictly adhere to the latest electrical codes and regulations, ensuring that all work meets the highest safety standards. Whether we’re upgrading a panel, rewiring a home, or installing a complex commercial electrical system, we ensure that every project is completed with safety and compliance in mind.

Customer-Centered Electrical Solutions

We believe in delivering more than just high-quality electrical services; we’re committed to providing a positive customer experience. Our electricians take the time to understand your specific needs and offer customized solutions that meet your requirements and budget. Transparency, reliability, and communication are at the core of our business practices, ensuring a hassle-free experience for every customer in Rimbey.

Contact Bryant’s Electrical Ltd. Today

When you need expert residential or commercial electrical services in Rimbey, trust Bryant’s Electrical Ltd. for quality, reliability, and customer-focused service. Whether it’s a simple repair, a major installation, or an emergency service, our team is ready to handle the job with professionalism and expertise.

Contact Bryant’s Electrical Ltd. today to schedule a consultation or learn more about how we can help with your electrical needs. Your home or business deserves the best — and we’re here to deliver it!

[max1461]

Did you know inthe vast majority of the world the clock goes to 13 after 12. Also you can't count.

anon, what do you think comes after 24 on your beloved 24 hour clock? that's right, "zero", when the true next hour is 25. 24-hour timists are just as dogmatic as the 12-hour timists, but worse, they think they're superior. the only true time system where hours and minutes cannot be stolen by elites is INFINITY-hour, INFINITY-minute time.

[ramrodd]

How can the essays of George Orwell be used to develop critical thinking about current events and issues?

COMMENTARY:

You can begin with the opening sentence: “The clock struck 13” is like the opening sentence of “The Love song of J. Alfred Prufrock:

“Let us go then, you and I, When the evening is spread out against the sky Like a patient etherized upon a table”

In terms of your experience of the narrative of 1984, the first sentence of 1984 is like the door in Revelation 4.2 and the mirror in “Through the Looking Glass”. If read that line and close your eyes, maybe spark a doobie and play the opening theme of “Twilight Zone”, defines the phenomenal reality of the narrative.

What you just read is an example of literary analysis as performance art.

If you go through 1984, you will find a trail of these cultural artifacts of the characters in the novel, like bread crumbs, leading your forward. Dagny Taggart has a similar role in Atlas Shrugged, dragging you by your dick, forward, into the inevitable submission to the superior intellect of John Galt, who talks the same shit as the Unibomber’s manifesto. With Dagny, who leaves a lingering bouquet of Chanel no. 5 and sex, she is the bait in Ayn Rand’s Venus Fly Trap.

The conceit in English letters is to conceive a narrative as compelling as scripture using different literary mechanisms

And, when it comes to critical thinking, Hegel comes in handy for his mathematical clarity and simplicity. Especially when you include the 4th law of logic in your outline.

Prufrock is setting out for the clubs in Top Hat and Tails, as one does. The cultural perspective defines The Great Gatsby. This is what was referred to as “The Swells” in the America of “It’s a Wonderful Life” Only, J. Alfred is an American in Oxford. You can hear the twang of James Whitcomb Riley in The Hollow Men, but T.S. Eliot is channeling the young Prince Edward, getting ready to Top Cat his way around The Strand.

Hegel and Kant make it easy and fun to do. And, as a commercial process, a capitalist tool. If you are invested in “originalism” of the Barr Decision, Kant anticipates George Washington as a Deist and Hegel reflects von Steubin’’s influence on the Just War Doctrine of the US Army War College and the command and organizational processes of the Command and General Staff College and US Army Ranger School. Ayn Rand and Robert Heinlein shared the first Prometheus Award in their particular category, the difference being that Robert Heinlein’s version of the future is informed by Kant and Hegel and captured by Starship Troopers as they tie into Arthur Clarke’s 2001: A Space Odyssey, while Ayn Rand, like Newt Gingrich, trying to re-write the Bolshevik Revolution. Like Major Trainwreck Greene, the Whites would have won if she had been in charge.

I’m an Army brat. The idea of the clock striking 13 would have happened on Armed Forces Network in Germany in 1956, when Newt Gingrich and I were stationed in Stuttgart at the same time. Just after Sputnik. Sputnik totally freaked the Army community out. There were still a lot of POWs from the Philippines in the Army community as a particular point of price of service. They’d been there, done that after Pearl Harbor and the entire community shuddered.

The US Army community is a socialist society by constitutional necessity, so the socialism of the novel seemed familiar. I was too young to understand the betrayal: that would happen for me in Vietnam. But from my experience, socialism is nurturing and enabling and encouraging one to be all one could be.

I’ve had many meetings at 1300 hours ever since i lived in Germany. In 1956, the US Army community was prepared to snatch the women and children back to the states in 24 hours during the Hungarian Revolution. So, the idea that there was a war going on just over the horizon, which informs 1984, was a fact of my life.

I understood perfectly the evil George Orwell was getting at and I agreed with him. An important role that Critical Race Theory is how damaging evil is and how to fix the damage and renew the culture using capitalism.

You can do exactly the same thing with Atlas Shrugged as 1984. George Orwell was trying to warn the world about people who thought like Ayn Rand and William F. Buckley. Ayn Rand and William F. Buckley are exactly like the unfaithful servants in the Parable of the Vineyard. 1984 is about a country run by people like Ayn Rand and William F. Buckley. There is an actual, real time, connection between William F. Buckley’s campus marketing strategy for the 1960 agenda of the John Birch Society, the January 6 Conspiracy and the vast right wing conspiracy Hillary Clinton correctly identified in February 1993 that would drive Vince Foster to suicide,

Who is John Galt? Ayn Rand’s essential model of class room instruction is to beat you into submission and that was the first of 500 pages of similar abuse. John Galt is a perfect metaphor for William F. Buckley’s political objectives consistent with the John Birch Society in that they are so loathsome that they can vever be successful in polite society, much less the rational self-interests of Biden votes. John Galt has to do all his politics from subversion, sedition, sabotage and constitutional deconstruction.

George Orwell was waning America about the potential for the January 6 lynch mob to erupt into view and blow up America. Beginning at 1300 hours on January 6, 2021.

It’s critical thinking, every step of the way.

[thecatrical]

Ooh im American, Imma weigh in on this except for the political shit, I don’t do political shit

-an inch is a tad bigger than a smidge

-the American spellings are superior

-the distance between states is more or less the difference between European countries

-military time is what should be the standard, starting at 0 instead of 12AM, and going all the way to 24 until it hits 0 again, no restarting the clock in the middle of the day for no fucking reason

-highschool goes like this: freshmen, sophomore, Junior, Senior

-the men are fresh bc they’re new to Highschool, sophomore is the one everyone at highschool ignores bc fuck the middle children, Juniors and Seniors are the ancient elders of the school, both having the wisdom to be awesome but being too stupid to make it work

-no the gas thing isn’t made up

-the Pledge is optional they just don’t tell you that, I haven’t done it since middle school

-DO NOT feel sorry for the French, fuck the French, both kinds of fuck

-we have fire drills, tornado drills, bombing drills, and lockdown drills, which are the school shooter ones. The fire and lockdown drills happen more or less once a month. And I’ve had like 6 drills triggered because some dumbass decided to pull the fire switch thingy

-I’m Hispanic American and yes, it’s very tiring to hear how they mispronounce shit

-multiple hour car rides are like, some of the only car rides I’ve known. 2-4 hours in a car doesn’t get you as far as you’d think

-pound shortens to lbs bc it looks like 16 which is how many ounces are in a pound. Our measurement system is full of shit like that

-yea I never cared for the chick fil a shit. It’s a fast food restaurant many of us grew up eating, especially in the south (where I grew up). The owners of the organization allegedly donated a bunch of money to conversion therapy camps. I don’t know how true this is, I never looked into it as I was young when it became a big thing. I have a generally positive opinion of chick fil a because their workers for the most part seem more genuine than many other fast foods, they also handled business during the pandemic far better than any other American fast food.

Anyway if you’re from the US and you ever wanted to know what tumblr feels like from a non-USAmerican perspective (please note that the rest of the world is not a monolith either and none of these apply without exception):

Everybody’s talking about brands and stores you’ve never seen in real life. You generally assume they exist, but they might as well be one giant prank the rest of the internet is in on.

You find a post that just sounds wrong. It makes no sense. It’s like OP lives in a weird alternate reality. 9/10 times, it’s just some USAmerican Thing.

You’re still not entirely sure how much an inch is. Or a foot. Or even how many of the former there are in the latter. You maybe know your height in feet and inches.

You have no idea how much a pound is. You’d also like to know how the fuck pound shortens to lbs.

What the fuck is “military time”

Somebody talks about some legal process or something similar. They don’t mention which country’s legal system this pertains to. You know anyway.

People talk about politics. None of it pertains to you. Many posts contain guilt tripping. “How can you not care about this?? Why won’t you reblog this?? People need to know this about x candidate for y position!” You’re busy trying to stay on top of the political landscape in your own country.

You pick up some random slang from the internet. Monkey see monkey do. You’re called racist. You didn’t know it was AAVE. You learnt it from black letters on white background, not from the mouths of people whose faces you could see. How would you have known? You try to unlearn it.

People tell you that you must publicly denounce Chick-fil-A or you’re homophobic. You don’t even know what a Chick-fil-A is.

People say you don’t know LGBTQ+ history. What they mean is you don’t know USAmerican LGBTQ+ history. Nobody cares about your country’s history.

You’re “called out” on using an “offensive” term. It’s (a direct translation of) a completely harmless word where you live.

People expect you to have an idea of how far apart 2 USAmerican states are. You barely know geography past your country’s immediate neighbors.

You randomly switch between British and American spellings. Nothing’s real and there are no rules.

People talk about multiple hour car rides and you get twitchy just thinking about it. You suddenly understand why USAmerican cars are so big.

Somebody talks about school shooting drills. You only ever had fire alarm drills.

You see a cool statistic. The study’s only about the US. It’s unfortunately of no use to you.

People misuse/misspell words and names from your native language. It’s tiring.

(You feel sorry for the French. Nobody should be allowed to mangle the word déjà vu like that.)

You’re still not over the fact that USAmerican school children are supposed to say that pledge thing every morning. You’re never getting over that.

You still don’t know why the men are fresh or what the fuck a sophomore is.

Who the fuck pays up first and then fills up gas??? That’s made up, right??

Everybody has a weird obsession with some comfort food you’d never even heard of before you signed up here.

Fellow non-USAmericans, please add anything else you can think of.

[synergysoft]

Tally Cloud Service Provider in Mumbai

In today’s digital age, Tally ERP software has become indispensable for businesses to manage accounting, inventory, and financial records efficiently. With the growing demand for accessibility and data security, many companies are moving their Tally software to the cloud. If you’re searching for a reliable Cloud service provider in Mumbai, look no further than Synergy Soft Solutions. In this Blog, we’ll explore the advantages of using Tally on the cloud and why Synergy Soft Solutions is your top choice for Tally cloud hosting.

What is Tally on Cloud?

Tally on cloud allows businesses to access their Tally ERP software online, enabling employees to work from anywhere and at any time. By hosting Tally on the cloud, companies gain flexibility, better data security, and a centralized system for their financial and accounting operations.

Why Use Tally on Cloud for Your Business?

Here are some key reasons why businesses are opting to use Tally on cloud:

Remote Access: Users can access Tally ERP from any location with an internet connection, supporting remote and flexible work arrangements.

Enhanced Security: Cloud hosting provides robust data protection with encryption, multi-factor authentication, and regular backups, safeguarding your financial data.

Scalability: Cloud solutions allow companies to scale resources up or down based on business needs, making them highly flexible for growing organizations.

Cost-Effective: With Tally on cloud, you avoid the high costs of maintaining in-house servers and IT infrastructure.

Automatic Updates: Cloud hosting ensures your Tally software remains up-to-date with the latest features and security patches, reducing the need for manual updates.

Why Synergy Soft Solutions is the Best Tally Cloud Service Provider in Mumbai

Synergy Soft Solutions specializes in Cloud hosting for Tally ERP, providing businesses in Mumbai with a reliable, secure, and high-performance cloud environment tailored to meet their accounting and operational needs. Here’s what sets us apart:

1. Customized Tally Cloud Solutions

Every business is unique, and so are its accounting needs. At Synergy Soft Solutions, we offer customized Tally cloud hosting plans to match your business requirements. Whether you’re a small business owner or a large enterprise, our flexible plans allow you to choose the storage, performance, and security features that best suit your operations.

2. Superior Data Security

Security is critical when dealing with financial data. Synergy Soft Solutions provides Tally cloud hosting with top-tier security measures, including encryption, access controls, and routine data backups. Our focus on data protection ensures your company’s financial records are safe from unauthorized access, breaches, and data loss.

3. High Performance and Reliability

With our optimized cloud infrastructure, you can rely on fast access to Tally ERP without delays or downtime. Our high-performance servers are built for speed, reliability, and seamless connectivity, ensuring your accounting operations run smoothly, even during peak business hours.

4. 24/7 Technical Support

Our dedicated support team is available around the clock to assist with any issues, ensuring that your Tally system is always running smoothly. With expert technicians and quick response times, we minimize downtime and ensure you have continuous access to your Tally data.

5. Scalable Cloud Solutions

As your business grows, Synergy Soft Solutions provides easy scalability options to match your expanding needs. You can effortlessly upgrade your Tally cloud resources as your company’s accounting requirements evolve, making Synergy Soft an ideal long-term partner for your business.

Key Features of Synergy Soft’s Tally Cloud Hosting Services

Remote Desktop Access: Securely access Tally ERP from any device and location, enabling efficient work from home or remote office setups.

Automatic Data Backup: Our cloud services include automated data backups to ensure that your financial data is never lost and can be quickly restored.

User Access Control: We enable user-based access controls, allowing you to assign roles and permissions for enhanced security and data integrity.

Daily Data Synchronization: Ensure all your Tally data is synchronized in real-time, providing accurate, up-to-date financial information.

Flexible Billing Options: We offer various billing plans to meet budgetary requirements, making cloud hosting for Tally affordable for all businesses.

How to Get Started with Tally on Cloud at Synergy Soft Solutions

Switching to cloud hosting for Tally ERP is simple with Synergy Soft Solutions. Here’s a step-by-step guide to getting started:

Initial Consultation: Our team will discuss your business needs, assess your current setup, and suggest the best cloud plan for your Tally software.

Migration to Cloud: We ensure a smooth transition of your Tally data to the cloud, with minimal disruption to your operations.

Setup and Training: Our team will set up your cloud environment and provide training to help your team get familiar with accessing Tally on the cloud.

Ongoing Support and Maintenance: Once you’re up and running, we offer continuous support, regular maintenance, and timely updates to ensure your Tally cloud environment performs optimally.

Advantages of Choosing a Local Tally Cloud Provider in Mumbai

Working with a local provider like Synergy Soft Solutions offers several advantages:

Faster Response Times: Being based in Mumbai means our support team can quickly address your queries and provide on-site support if necessary.

Localized Knowledge: We understand the unique needs of Mumbai-based businesses, allowing us to tailor our solutions more effectively.

Stronger Client Relationships: We build strong partnerships with our clients, offering a personalized touch that national providers may lack.

[booktaxionline]

Why More People Are Choosing to Book Online Taxis Over Traditional Cabs

The taxi industry has seen a significant shift in recent years as more people are opting to book taxis online rather than relying on traditional cabs. For long-distance routes, such as Chandigarh to Shimla Taxi, online bookings provide a range of benefits, from ease of booking to reliable service. Here, we’ll explore why online taxi bookings are becoming the preferred choice for travelers and how OneNess Taxi meets these evolving needs.

1. Convenience of Booking Anytime, Anywhere

Easy Online Booking: Unlike traditional cabs that require you to find a cab on the spot, online taxis allow you to book a ride in advance with just a few clicks. For routes like Chandigarh to Shimla Taxi, this convenience means you can plan your journey from the comfort of your home.

Flexible Scheduling: With online taxis, you can choose a pick-up time that suits your schedule, even during odd hours. This flexibility makes it easier to plan long-distance travel.

2. Transparent Pricing and No Hidden Charges

Upfront Fare Estimates: Online taxi platforms provide clear fare estimates before booking, so you know exactly how much your Chandigarh to Shimla Taxi will cost. This transparency helps avoid surprises and hidden charges that are common in traditional cabs.

Cost Comparison Options: Many online services allow you to compare prices and vehicle options, helping you make an informed decision based on your budget and needs.

3. Wide Selection of Vehicle Options

Vehicle Choices for Every Need: From sedans and SUVs to luxury cars, online taxis offer a range of vehicle options. For a comfortable Chandigarh to Shimla Taxi ride, you can choose a vehicle that best suits your group size, luggage requirements, and preferences.

Customization Options: You can select amenities such as Wi-Fi, air conditioning, and charging ports to enhance your comfort on the road.

4. Enhanced Safety Features and Driver Verification

Verified Drivers and Background Checks: Reputable online taxi services like OneNess Taxi ensure that all drivers are vetted, licensed, and professional. This ensures a safe and comfortable journey, especially for long-distance routes like Chandigarh to Shimla Taxi.

Real-Time GPS Tracking: With online taxi bookings, you can share your live location with family or friends, offering an extra layer of safety and peace of mind.

5. Reliable Customer Support and Assistance

24/7 Customer Support: In the event of any issues or questions, online taxi services typically offer round-the-clock customer support. This service is especially beneficial for long trips, like Chandigarh to Shimla Taxi, where unforeseen events can arise.

Dedicated Helplines: Many online platforms have dedicated helplines and easy access to emergency assistance, something that traditional cabs may not consistently provide.

6. Digital Payment Options for Hassle-Free Transactions

Cashless Payment Options: Most online taxi services allow you to pay digitally through credit cards, mobile wallets, or other digital payment methods. This feature is convenient for travelers and eliminates the need for cash during your Chandigarh to Shimla Taxi journey.

Seamless Refund and Cancellation Process: In case of any changes in your travel plans, online services often have flexible cancellation policies with a seamless refund process.

7. Superior Comfort and Privacy

Private Ride Experience: Online taxis provide a private and comfortable ride, especially for long-distance trips like Chandigarh to Shimla Taxi. Unlike shared rides or traditional taxis, you can enjoy a peaceful journey without interruptions.

Personalized Travel Experience: With options to choose amenities, online taxis offer a more personalized travel experience, making long journeys more enjoyable.

Why Book Your Chandigarh to Shimla Taxi with OneNess Taxi?

OneNess Taxi offers an exceptional online taxi booking experience, combining convenience, safety, and comfort. Our verified drivers, transparent pricing, and reliable customer support ensure that every ride is as smooth and enjoyable as possible. For your next Chandigarh to Shimla Taxi journey, trust OneNess Taxi for a worry-free travel experience.

Conclusion: Embracing the Future of Taxi Booking

As the demand for online taxi services grows, it’s clear why more people prefer booking online over traditional cabs. With flexibility, safety, and ease of use, online taxis are a smart choice for long-distance routes like Chandigarh to Shimla Taxi. Embrace the convenience of modern travel by choosing OneNess Taxi for your next journey, and enjoy the benefits of a trusted and customer-focused service.

[professional-article]

Why Supreme Storage TX Outshines CubeSmart in Burleson, TX

When it comes to choosing a storage facility in Burleson, TX, making the right decision is crucial for ensuring your valuables are safe, accessible, and well-maintained. While CubeSmart is a well-known name in the storage industry, Supreme Storage TX stands out as the superior option for several compelling reasons. Here’s why Supreme Storage TX is the best choice for your storage needs in Burleson, TX.

Unmatched Accessibility and Convenience

Supreme Storage TX is designed with customer convenience in mind. Our location is strategically placed to provide easy access from major roads and highways, making it effortless for you to drop off or pick up your items. Unlike CubeSmart, which may have limited access hours, Supreme Storage TX offers extended access hours, ensuring you can reach your belongings whenever you need them.

Spacious and Covered Storage Options

One of the significant advantages of Supreme Storage TX over CubeSmart is the variety of spacious and covered storage units available. Whether you need to store an RV, boat, car, or personal items, we offer a range of sizes to accommodate your needs. Our covered units protect your vehicles and belongings from the elements, ensuring they remain in pristine condition. CubeSmart’s offerings in Burleson may not provide the same level of coverage and protection, leaving your valuables vulnerable to weather-related damage.

State-of-the-Art Security Features

At Supreme Storage TX, the security of your belongings is our top priority. Our facility is equipped with cutting-edge security features, including 24/7 video surveillance, electronic gate access, and on-site management. These measures provide peace of mind, knowing that your items are protected around the clock. While CubeSmart also offers security features, the comprehensive approach at Supreme Storage TX ensures an extra layer of protection that you won’t find elsewhere.

Competitive Pricing and Flexible Leasing Terms

We understand that cost is a significant factor when choosing a storage facility. Supreme Storage TX offers competitive pricing that often beats CubeSmart’s rates in Burleson, TX. Additionally, we provide flexible leasing terms, allowing you to rent a unit for as long or as short a period as you need. This flexibility is ideal for both short-term and long-term storage solutions, making it easier for you to manage your storage needs without being locked into a rigid contract.

Exceptional Customer Service

Customer service is where Supreme Storage TX truly shines. Our friendly and knowledgeable staff are always ready to assist you with any questions or concerns. We pride ourselves on providing a personalized experience, ensuring that each customer feels valued and supported. While CubeSmart is a large corporation with many locations, it often lacks the personalized touch that a local business like Supreme Storage TX can offer. Our team goes above and beyond to make your storage experience as smooth and hassle-free as possible.

Climate-Controlled Units for Delicate Items

For those who need to store delicate items that require a stable environment, Supreme Storage TX offers climate-controlled units. These units maintain a consistent temperature and humidity level, protecting sensitive items such as electronics, artwork, and important documents from extreme conditions. CubeSmart’s facilities in Burleson may not offer the same level of climate control, putting your valuable items at risk of damage from temperature fluctuations.

On-Site Maintenance and Cleanliness

At Supreme Storage TX, we take pride in maintaining a clean and well-kept facility. Our on-site maintenance team ensures that all areas, including storage units and common spaces, are regularly cleaned and inspected. This level of upkeep ensures that your storage experience is pleasant and your belongings are stored in a clean environment. While CubeSmart maintains its facilities, the local touch and attention to detail at Supreme Storage TX set us apart.

Community-Focused Approach

As a locally-owned and operated business, Supreme Storage TX is deeply committed to serving the Burleson community. We understand the unique needs of our customers and strive to provide services that cater specifically to them. Our community-focused approach means we are always looking for ways to give back and support local initiatives. CubeSmart, as a national chain, may not have the same level of community involvement or understanding of local needs.

Versatility in Storage Solutions

Supreme Storage TX offers a wide range of storage solutions to meet diverse needs. Whether you are looking to store household items, business inventory, or recreational vehicles, we have the perfect unit for you. Our versatility ensures that we can accommodate unique storage requirements that CubeSmart may not be able to handle. From large units for commercial storage to small lockers for personal items, Supreme Storage TX has it all.

Ease of Reservation and Payment

Booking a storage unit at Supreme Storage TX is a breeze. Our user-friendly online reservation system allows you to select and reserve your unit quickly and efficiently. We also offer various payment options, including online bill pay, making it convenient for you to manage your account. While CubeSmart also offers online services, the straightforward and hassle-free process at Supreme Storage TX ensures a seamless experience from start to finish.

Conclusion

When comparing storage options in Burleson, TX, it’s clear that Supreme Storage TX outshines CubeSmart in several key areas. From accessibility and security to customer service and pricing, Supreme Storage TX offers superior storage solutions tailored to meet your needs. Our commitment to quality, community, and convenience makes us the best choice for all your storage requirements.

Choosing Supreme Storage TX means choosing a facility that prioritizes your satisfaction and the safety of your belongings. Experience the difference of a locally-owned storage provider dedicated to serving the Burleson community. Contact us today to learn more about our services and find the perfect storage solution for you.

[theshiftingparadigms]

AI-powered voice chat for websites

AI-Powered Voice Chat for Websites

As customer expectations for fast and convenient support grow, AI-powered voice chat for websites has become an essential tool for modern businesses. By integrating voice chat, websites can offer users a hands-free, conversational experience that makes it easy to find information, get support, and complete tasks. Let’s explore how AI-powered voice chat works and the benefits it can bring to your website.

What Is AI-Powered Voice Chat?

AI-powered voice chat is a technology that enables users to interact with a website through voice commands. Using natural language processing (NLP) and advanced AI algorithms, voice chat can understand spoken questions, interpret intent, and respond with relevant answers. For example, a user might ask, “What are today’s specials?” or “How can I contact support?” The AI-powered voice chat provides an instant response, offering a faster and more natural experience than traditional typing or clicking through menus.

Benefits of AI-Powered Voice Chat for Websites

Enhanced User Experience: Voice chat allows users to interact with websites in a conversational way, reducing the need for typing or searching through long menus. This creates a smoother, more intuitive experience that can keep users engaged longer. It’s especially useful for mobile users, who may find typing inconvenient on smaller screens.

Real-Time Customer Support: AI-powered voice chat can provide immediate assistance to users, answering questions or guiding them through processes in real-time. Whether a customer wants to know about product details, return policies, or order tracking, voice chat can respond instantly. This quick support leads to greater user satisfaction and reduces wait times.

24/7 Availability: Unlike live agents, AI-powered voice chat is available around the clock, ensuring customers can get assistance anytime they need it. This is particularly beneficial for businesses with a global audience or for customers who may need help outside of regular business hours. Continuous availability can improve customer satisfaction and encourage more conversions.

Personalized Interactions: AI-powered voice chat can tailor responses based on user history, preferences, and behavior. For instance, the AI can recommend products based on past purchases or suggest relevant content based on the user’s browsing habits. This personalization helps create a more engaging experience, making users feel understood and valued.

Cost Efficiency: By automating routine customer inquiries and tasks, voice chat reduces the need for large support teams, helping businesses cut operational costs. Human agents can focus on more complex issues, while the voice chat handles frequent questions and tasks efficiently, offering quality support without incurring high costs.

Why Your Website Needs AI-Powered Voice Chat

Adding AI-powered voice chat for websites can significantly improve user engagement, accessibility, and customer satisfaction. By providing real-time, personalized support and 24/7 availability, voice chat enables businesses to meet modern customer expectations and stand out in a competitive digital environment.

Solutions like Lexi IQ make it easy for businesses to integrate AI-powered voice chat that enhances user experience, streamlines support, and encourages conversions.

Conclusion

Incorporating AI-powered voice chat on your website can provide numerous benefits, from improving user experience to offering 24/7 support and reducing operational costs. As voice technology becomes more common, businesses that integrate voice chat will be well-positioned to engage users effectively and provide superior customer support. By adopting solutions like Lexi IQ, businesses can stay competitive while delivering a modern, user-friendly experience that meets the needs of today’s digital-savvy customers.

[southgatetravels]

Airport Taxi Pickup and Drop Service in Trivandrum: Reliable and Convenient Travel

Trivandrum, the capital city of Kerala, is a bustling hub for business, tourism, and culture. Whether you're visiting for work or leisure, a smooth and hassle-free journey to and from the airport is essential. This is where reliable airport taxi services come into play, providing you with a stress-free way to reach your destination.

Airport Taxi Pickup and Drop Service in Trivandrum ensure that you have a comfortable and timely journey, allowing you to relax and enjoy your travel experience.

Why Choose Airport Taxi Services in Trivandrum?

Convenient and Reliable: One of the biggest advantages of using an airport taxi service is the convenience. There’s no need to worry about parking, navigating traffic, or finding a ride at the last minute. Professional taxi services ensure that you are picked up on time and dropped off at your destination without any delays.

Fixed Rates with No Surprises: When you book an airport taxi in advance, you can be assured of a fixed rate. Unlike regular taxis, where the fare may fluctuate depending on traffic or route, airport taxi services offer transparent pricing. This allows you to budget your travel expenses without any hidden charges or surprises.

Comfort and Safety: Airport taxi services prioritize your comfort and safety. The vehicles are well-maintained, clean, and equipped with modern amenities. Professional drivers ensure that you reach your destination safely, navigating the roads with expertise.

24/7 Availability: Flights can arrive or depart at any hour of the day. Airport taxi services are available round the clock, ensuring that you have a reliable ride regardless of your flight schedule.

Benefits of Booking an Airport Taxi Pickup and Drop Service

Punctuality: When it comes to air travel, punctuality is key. Whether you’re catching an early morning flight or arriving late at night, airport taxi services ensure that you reach your destination on time. The drivers are aware of flight schedules and adjust their timing accordingly to accommodate any delays.

Easy Online Booking: Booking an airport taxi in Trivandrum is easy and convenient. Most services offer online booking, where you can reserve your ride in just a few clicks. You can choose your preferred vehicle, input your flight details, and confirm your booking without any hassle.

No Parking Worries: Driving to the airport can be stressful, especially when you need to find a parking spot. With an airport taxi, you don’t have to worry about parking. The driver will drop you off at the entrance, allowing you to walk straight to the check-in counter without any delays.

Professional Chauffeurs: Airport taxi services employ experienced and professional chauffeurs who are trained to provide excellent customer service. They are polite, courteous, and knowledgeable about the best routes, ensuring a smooth and pleasant journey.

Types of Airport Taxi Services Available in Trivandrum

Economy Cars: Ideal for solo travelers or small groups, economy cars offer a comfortable ride at an affordable price. These vehicles are perfect for those who need a budget-friendly option without compromising on quality.

Sedans: For a more luxurious experience, you can opt for a sedan. With spacious interiors, superior comfort, and premium features, sedans are ideal for business travelers or those who prefer a bit of extra comfort during their ride.

SUVs: If you’re traveling with a larger group or carrying a lot of luggage, an SUV can provide the extra space you need. SUVs are also great for families, offering ample room for everyone to travel comfortably.

Luxury Cars: For those who want to travel in style, luxury cars offer the perfect solution. Equipped with premium features, leather seats, and advanced technology, these cars provide a truly comfortable and elegant travel experience.

Why Choose Southgate Travels for Airport Taxi Pickup and Drop Services in Trivandrum?

At Southgate Travels, we understand how important it is to have a reliable, comfortable, and stress-free ride to and from the airport. Our airport taxi services in Trivandrum are designed to meet the highest standards of convenience and reliability. Here’s why you should choose us:

Wide Range of Vehicles: We offer a diverse fleet of vehicles, including economy cars, sedans, SUVs, and luxury cars. You can select a vehicle that suits your needs, preferences, and budget.

Professional and Courteous Drivers: Our drivers are trained professionals who prioritize your safety and comfort. They are familiar with the city’s roads and ensure that you reach your destination on time.

Round-the-Clock Service: We provide 24/7 airport taxi services, so no matter when your flight is scheduled, you can count on us to be there. Our team monitors flight schedules to accommodate any changes, ensuring that you don’t have to wait.

Easy Booking and Transparent Pricing: Booking your airport taxi with Southgate Travels is simple and straightforward. You can make a reservation online or over the phone, and we offer clear, upfront pricing without any hidden fees.

Well-Maintained Fleet: All our vehicles are regularly serviced and maintained to ensure the highest level of comfort and safety. Clean, comfortable, and equipped with modern amenities, our cars provide a pleasant ride every time.

Book Your Airport Taxi in Trivandrum Today!

Whether you’re traveling for business, a family vacation, or a special event, Southgate Travels ensures that your journey to and from the airport is smooth and hassle-free. Our reliable airport taxi services in Trivandrum take the stress out of your travel, allowing you to focus on enjoying your trip.

Contact Southgate Travels today to learn more about our airport taxi pickup and drop services in Trivandrum and to make your reservation. Let us take care of your transportation, so you can travel with ease and comfort.