#Best Procurement Strategy

[procurengine3]

How to Develop the Best Procurement Strategy with Smart Solutions | ProcurEngine

Best Procurement Strategy is key to achieving operational efficiency and cost savings. At ProcurEngine, we highlight the importance of a well-structured approach to procurement that includes supplier segmentation, cost control, and strategic sourcing. A smart procurement strategy empowers businesses to streamline workflows, mitigate risks, and drive better results. With the right Procurement Software Solutions, companies can automate processes, enhance decision-making, and optimize supplier management for long-term success.

[rajeshwaria]

Mastering MRO Procurement: Proven Strategies and Industry Tips

The Role of MRO Procurement Maintenance, repair, and operations (MRO) procurement is integral to ensuring smooth business operations. It encompasses sourcing a wide array of goods and services, including spare machinery parts, safety gear, office supplies, and cleaning products. Although considered indirect procurement, the role of MRO in optimizing efficiency, ensuring safety, and managing costs is substantial.

Core Benefits of Effective MRO Procurement

Operational Stability An efficient MRO procurement process ensures businesses are equipped with essential resources, preventing disruptions caused by equipment failures or material shortages.

Improved Cost Control Organizations can save significantly by analyzing spend data, negotiating better contracts, and avoiding overstocking. Streamlined procurement also reduces unnecessary expenditures.

Workplace Safety Assurance Compliance with safety regulations requires access to the right protective gear and equipment. A sound MRO procurement plan protects employees and minimizes legal liabilities.

Enhanced Supplier Collaboration Strong supplier partnerships ensure consistent quality, timely delivery, and access to innovative solutions, making procurement processes more reliable and efficient.

Steps to Strengthen MRO Procurement

Assess and Define Requirements Identifying high-priority items and understanding usage patterns helps refine procurement goals and aligns purchases with operational needs.

Analyze Spending and Supplier Performance Spend analysis tools offer insights into cost-saving opportunities and highlight supplier performance metrics, guiding strategic decisions.

Select and Manage Suppliers Choosing dependable suppliers based on performance, pricing, and reliability is critical. Continuous engagement and evaluation strengthen these relationships.

Adopt Technology Digital tools streamline procurement processes, improve transparency, and enable accurate inventory tracking and supplier communication.

Continuous Improvement Regularly revisiting strategies and adapting to industry trends ensure that MRO procurement remains efficient and aligned with business goals.

Overcoming MRO Procurement Challenges

Supply Chain Management Handling diverse suppliers and managing unpredictable demand can be complex. Centralizing procurement simplifies coordination.

Data Transparency Issues Fragmented data sources hinder effective decision-making. Integrating procurement tools enhances visibility into spending.

Supplier Dependability Building robust supplier networks and monitoring performance mitigate risks of delays and quality inconsistencies.

Compliance with Regulations Navigating regulatory requirements demands diligent planning and reliable suppliers who adhere to safety standards.

SpendEdge’s Role in MRO Procurement SpendEdge provides organizations with customized solutions for MRO procurement. By leveraging data analytics, supplier consolidation strategies, and market intelligence, SpendEdge helps businesses streamline operations, reduce costs, and enhance efficiency, ensuring sustainable success in a competitive market.

Conclusion MRO procurement is a fundamental aspect of operational success. With strategic planning and support from solutions like SpendEdge, organizations can optimize their procurement processes, control costs, and build resilient supply chain systems that adapt to evolving market demands.

For more information please contact

[mikavlcs]

Static Patterns

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Summary: Wednesday’s struggling to say those three special words, so she decides to instead show you how she feels.

Warnings: soft/ooc!wednesday(!!!), reader’s kinda unserious, sorry

Word count: 1.8k

Notes: this was requested by @beauty-in-the-brkdwn​, hope you enjoy<3

Masterlist

Never in her life had Wednesday felt more stupid than she did now.

Mere months ago, she had faced and overcome unthinkable odds, defeating an undead pilgrim and saving the entirety of Nevermore from destruction. A feat she pulled off with moderate ease.

And now here she was being bested by something as trivial as words.

It was humiliating to think about, even conceptually. That she—an aspiring writer—was struggling with words. A communicative tool she had mastered using before the age of five. This was even worse when paired with the fact that what she was struggling to say was so torturously simple.

Three words. Eight letters.

A phrase that millions were able to say in passing and yet the thought of actually saying those words to you was somehow more daunting than the Hyde and Crackstone combined.

It shouldn’t have been, she knew that. Her candor was one of her defining features, a thing of pride even. But when combined with everything they symbolize, those three syllables suddenly weighed a thousand pounds on her tongue.

She tried and failed multiple times and as bitter as defeat tasted, she had no choice but to swallow it down and rethink her strategy.

Thus, a new, different approach was taken. After all, they did say that actions spoke louder than words. One of the most fundamental rules when writing was show don’t tell. So she settled for showing you how she felt rather than vocalizing it.

It started small with something as small and insignificant as breakfast. One morning she decided to procure a bowl of your favorite cereal and another, smaller bowl of assorted fruits.

You would always whine about how they were gone by the time you got there—which was entirely your fault, seeing as you arrived nearly ten minutes after everyone else did—so she figured this was a good place to start.

The excitement on your face as you took your place next to her told her she was correct.

From there it branched out slowly, like roots growing within soil.

She would take your books from you and carry them while she escorted you to your classes—even the ones she didn’t attend with you. It made your commutes much easier since nobody dared step into Wednesday’s way while she marched through the halls.

Stealing snacks for you from the kitchen became a daily occurrence. And with a few well-executed threats, she was able to take them free of charge. They were left in your locker, Wednesday feigning surprise when you found them, but you both knew the truth.

When you mournfully showed her the C+ you got on your Botany test she demanded politely offered to tutor you.

It even got to the point where she was willing to indulge in what she would consider blasphemy—physical touch.

This specific form of affection was something she vehemently avoided, its alleged pleasures something that eluded her. But you abstained for the sake of her comfort, so she would be willing to put forth an effort for the sake of yours.

It wasn’t much, but sometimes at lunch when she was absolutely sure no one was paying attention, she would tentatively cross her pinky with yours. And when you sat across from her at the Weathervane, she lightly rested her hand over yours.

She would admit—never aloud—that it wasn’t terrible.

You noticed the abrupt shift in her behavior, of course. The first few times you let it be, curious glances in her direction your only acknowledgment of the situation.

But eventually, the questions started, and Wednesday being always prepared, had her answers ready on her tongue.

“Your complaints about these being gone every morning are tiresome, so I got them for you since you can’t be bothered to show up on time.”

“Your feeble arms looked like they were struggling more than usual. The pitiful display has gotten rather boring.”

“These grades are not reflective of your limited intellectual abilities, it’s disappointing. I’ll fix that.”

Her snark never had much effect on you, so the excuses always earned an honest, if a bit bewildered chuckle from you (though she swore she could see fear in your eyes after that last one). But you didn’t question her further.

If she were to hazard a guess, she would say that you refused to inquire about her actions because you were afraid she would stop upon confrontation. And she knew you didn’t want that.

It was clear to her that you were enjoying her efforts. You were always a more inherently joyful person than her, but she had never seen as many smiles and blushes from you as she did these past few weeks. It was a pleasant thing to witness, she supposed.

And perhaps, somewhere deep down in the dark recesses of her mind, she was enjoying it as well.

-

You were late, like usual.

The Saturday study sessions she set up were scheduled to start at 12:30, meaning that you would arrive at 12:40. Your chronic tardiness was something that was so deeply ingrained that even she couldn’t correct it. She had long since given up trying.

She instead used the extra time to her advantage.

Opposite of you, she arrived every Saturday at 12:20 on the dot, preferring to be early so she could secure her favorite booth in the back of the café. The time before you arrived was used to plan out the lessons she would cover with you and color-coordinate her notes to make sure they were easy for you to understand.

The usual medium hot chocolate you ordered was placed on your side of the table, steam rising steadily from the top, but a new addition was the croissant she decided to order alongside it on a whim. You would appreciate it, she knew, you were always hungry.

At exactly 12:40, she heard the bell on the door chime and the familiar sound of your footsteps followed. She fought against the urge to straighten up and look back at you, gluing her eyes to the notes she was organizing.

There was movement in her peripherals as you slid into her sightline, the crooked grin on your face immediately identifiable, even out of focus. “Hey.”

“Hello,” she greeted evenly, sparing you only a glance as she pushed the pastry further over in your direction. Naturally, your eyes followed the movement and lit up comically once you spotted the food.

“For me?” you asked rather redundantly, the beginnings of a smile pulling at your lips.

Wednesday gave you a blank stare. “You’re the only other person at this table.”

That stupid, stunning smile only widened. You picked the croissant up and took a bite, never breaking eye contact with her. “Thanks, Wen.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, running her eyes over the expanse of your face. Then, “Now, open your textbook to page 274.”

Your face dropped but you obeyed.

Thirty minutes were spent taking notes and going over terms. A great use of the early afternoon in Wednesday’s opinion, though she knew your feelings would differ vastly.

You were focused on working for all of ten minutes before you started sending her long, blatantly obvious glances from across the table.

At the fifth consecutive look in a row, she decided to confront you. “If you have something to say then say it.”

You didn’t seem surprised to be called out, but you still took a minute to delve into your concerns. “What…is all of this?”

She paused her writing, glanced up briefly. “I’m not sure I understand your question.”

“Yeah, sorry that was vague,” you apologized, lightly shaking your head. “I mean all of these things you’ve been doing for these past few weeks—carrying my books, getting me my favorite foods at school, helping me study, and now buying me things…I love it, really but I don’t want you to do this because you think you need to-“

“I don’t,” she interrupted. “I do nothing out of an abstract sense of obligation, you know this.”

She didn’t have to see you to know that you were smiling. “Yes, I do. I just want to make sure that you know you don’t have to do all of this if you don’t want to.”

You were giving her an out. An unnecessary one, but the thought managed to be both touching and offensive. That you would sacrifice something that you are clearly enjoying for her was…courteous.

But the fact that you could possibly that she—Wednesday Addams—was doing anything for someone else because she “felt as if she had to” was nauseating and it needed to be fixed immediately.

“I do. Want to,” she said, her normally seamless cadence stunted as she tried to phrase her thoughts in a way that wasn’t painfully embarrassing. “I’m attempting to express the depth of my…feelings toward you.”

“Feelings? And what exactly do you feel for me?” Your tone was sincere, but there was a hint of smugness in it. Like you already knew the answer to your question.

“Disdain, at the moment,” she deadpanned as her mind receded elsewhere.

If she were to stop talking now, she knew you would drop it and take the win for what it was, but, strangely, she didn’t want to stop. The repulsive desire to open up pulled at her and she couldn’t help but lament the devastating effects that these cursed feelings continued to have on her.

Wednesday accepted her fate, took a deep breath, and swallowed her pride.

“In all seriousness, I…don’t hate you,” she ground out. “At all. Quite the opposite actually. And I felt it was important to let you know that, even if it was only through small, inane gestures.”

There was a moment of silence. Then another, and another. Unable to resist, Wednesday lifted her eyes to you and found that you looked positively awestruck. Eyes wide, brows raised, and lips parted. Utterly speechless.

She drank in the admittedly rare sight.

Slowly, the astonishment abated, and a wide, unruly grin crept onto your face. She knew right then that you were about to make her regret her confession.

“Awww,” you cooed, and, to her horror, you moved forward to press a warm kiss to her cheek.

Wednesday grimaced and glanced around to make sure that there were no witnesses to your display of affection. 

Thankfully, it seemed that no one had seen or if they had, they made the smart decision to look away before she gauged their eyes out.

She turned back and glared at you with as much murderous intent as she could muster, trying to seem utterly disgusted with your behavior. But she knew the undeniable burning in her cheeks told you everything you needed to know.

Giggling, you sat back, reaching over to thread your fingers together with hers. Your smile tempered, softening around the edges until only tenderness and an emotion that she was becoming all too familiar with remained.

You leaned forward again, and this time, she was too enraptured to bother looking around.

“I love you too, Wednesday.”

[radiaurapple]

Lucid Dreams of New Orleans: Chapter 13

CHAPTER SUMMARY: IN WHICH Alastor attends an important meeting.

FIC SUMMARY: Lucifer has always kept his distance from sinners. It’s what keeps him (relatively) sane — if he gets too close, he is haunted by visions of the tragic mortal lives that landed them in Hell. But in his new life at the Hotel, it is more difficult than ever to stay away — and when it comes to light that his daughter’s insufferable facilities manager is gravely wounded, it falls to Lucifer to deliver his soul from Death. In so doing, he falls headfirst into the sins, past lives, and heartbreaks of the one human whose contradictions he is powerless to resist.

[AO3 LINK]

New chapter!! we are almost at the end now! 📻🍎 thanks to those who have been reading along, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!

chapter preview below!

On the sixth sleepless night, Alastor finally tries to go home on his own.

Lucifer had told him it was possible, but offered no guidance. Alastor begins by calling up sensory details, the same way he would steer when Lucifer touched him. The rocking chair on the porch of his home. The clicking of knitting needles. The sizzle of diced onion dropped into a hot pan. 

Imagining gets him nowhere. His trip to Heaven is tomorrow, and he needs to — he must —

He curls in on himself and repeats the words in his head, like a melody:

Show me my mother — show me my mother — show me my mother —

But the fabric of his own soul is unyielding. 

Hours later, sleep finally finds him. He dreams once more of falling. 

The morning begins like any other. Alastor dons the new suit he procured for this occasion — a more minimalist version of his typical attire, closer to black than maroon. Clean, neat, and crisply starched. He buttons the jacket, pulls his hair back into a neat bun, and regards his reflection in his bathroom mirror. His new suit is certainly more befitting for a representative of the Hotel than his typical attire — which, though beloved and well-maintained, is tatty from years of use and the frequent magical removal of bloodstains. 

He is certain the new suit is the appropriate choice. Yet the deviation from his typical appearance makes him feel exposed, somehow — vulnerable. He considers abandoning the idea, but he has already missed his self-imposed deadline to head downstairs. The portal to Heaven is opening soon — the others will already be waiting for him.

He masks his apprehension behind a wide smile and leaves his room.

Everyone is indeed already milling about the seating area in the entry hall. 

Charlie is seated on a stool, scribbling in a notepad propped in her lap. When she spots Alastor, she waves him over with a smile on her face — no doubt to discuss strategy for their approaching trip. 

Alastor hesitates — Lucifer is standing behind Charlie, braiding her hair.

He recovers after a moment and takes the armchair across from Charlie. Lucifer is working intently, dividing and weaving her hair with deft, confident movements. It is like watching him do scales — rhythmic and effortless as a river. His eyes are intently focused on his hands, and he holds a hair tie between his teeth. 

Across the room, Husk laughs at Angel’s joke; Lucifer glances up, and his eyes flit past Alastor like he isn’t even there. 

The domestic scene makes Alastor’s stomach twist. He —

“—Alastor?”

Alastor viciously reins in his emotions with practiced efficiency. “Good morning, Charlie,” Alastor says, his smile pleasant, his voice even. “Lucifer.”

Lucifer nods in greeting without looking up.

They haven’t spoken since Alastor walked away nearly a week ago. When they’re in the same room, it is like this — both of them trying, to the best of their ability, to ignore one another’s existence. 

Lucifer takes the hair tie from his mouth, stretches it around his fingers, and winds it around the end of Charlie’s braid with a practiced movement. Charlie smiles and turns so the group can see her hair. It is a French braid with a few smaller braids woven in. 

Angel gasps. “It’s so pretty!”

“Very elegant,” Alastor says. 

“Thank you!” Charlie says. “Dad used to do this for me all the time as a kid, but this has to be the first time in years that —”

She is interrupted by the sound of a portal splitting open in front of the central staircase. 

Adrenaline surges through Alastor’s veins. He’s about to step through that portal. The Heaven on the other side of it is not a dream. 

“I guess it’s time,” Charlie says, her own voice tinged with nerves. She collects a thin binder from the coffee table — it contains the policy proposals she has carefully curated for this occasion. She clutches it tightly to her chest. 

Alastor widens his smile — more determined than ever to affect confidence for her sake. He stands and approaches the portal with a steady, calm posture. 

He stops next to the portal and gestures with his hand. “After you.”

“See you guys tonight,” Charlie says, and steps through. 

Alastor takes a step forward. 

“Al — Alastor,” Lucifer says. 

Alastor turns. Lucifer is watching him with wide, concerned eyes. Alastor’s anxiety multiplies — only Lucifer has any clue how Alastor might really feel about this visit to Heaven, and he has no appreciation for subtlety. Can’t Lucifer see that Alastor is only keeping control by a single fraying thread? One more word and Lucifer will give the game away. 

“What?” Alastor says flatly — in his rising panic, the word comes out a little sharper than he intends.

Lucifer stiffens, studies the floor. Then he glances back up at Alastor, his gaze steady. “Nothing,” he says lightly. “Just take care.” 

An echo of the words Alastor had spoken to Hollis a week ago, when he and Lucifer still enjoyed their simple routine. Before the tangled complexity of their friendship had exceeded Alastor’s capacity to comprehend. 

Alastor nods, turns on his heel, and steps through the portal. 

[AO3 LINK]

[gottawritesomething]

Cooking Lessons

Tav tries to take over cooking from Gale, very briefly.

____________________________________

“I did not duck…”

“You did not duck,” Tav confirmed, shaking her head in faux disapproval. Her hair fell like a halo around her face as she peered down at Gale. “I know I promised to keep you intact, but I’d appreciate your help with that.” She smiled and offered a hand to the downed wizard. Which he gladly took. The moment he was upright, pain from the orb shot through his shoulder like a bolt, setting his arm aflame. He felt a gentle arm around him, steadying him. Tav’s face swam into focus, her eyes full of worry. Gale turned his face away, taking a deep breath. Focusing on the pain instead of the warmth of her nearness.

“We’re done for today, let’s pack up!” She called out to the others.

He heard a disgruntled sound from Lae’zel and a scoff from Astarion. 

“There’s really no need to pause on my account; I have some potions in my pack. Really, I insist we move forward.” He managed through gritted teeth. Tav eyed him suspiciously before giving him a slight smile. 

“It isn’t because of you; I desperately need to wash the viscera out of my hair. It, coinciding with you taking the full brunt of an ogre swing, is simply a coincidence.” She fished potions out of her pack and handed them to him, stepping away. 

Three potions later, he was feeling vastly better but still unsure on his feet. The trudge home had added an additional layer to the exhaustion; he was ready to collapse when they finally arrived. He’d laid down his pack, prepared to cook as he’d done every night since their group had coalesced, only to find Tav stoking the fire. 

“Well, now, I really must protest. If you depose me as cook, I’ll be left task-less, and I'm not certain how helpful I could be in another capacity. ”

“I’m just showcasing my culinary prowess on top of my combat strategy. Plus, the hit you took today might have impacted your palate.” Tav flashed him a roguish grin.

Gale threw up his hand in mock defeat. “Who am I to resist you? Though if you'd indulge me, I'd like to observe, always something worth learning in the vast landscape of gastronomic delights.”

Tav gave him a sidelong glance, a slight smile whispering over her lips as Gale settled himself nearby with a groan and a book. He caught her concerned peek at his knees before returning her attention to the pot, assessing what new ingredients they’d procured over the day's events. She sifted through the sparse spices that’d been hastily acquired, as her hand drifted over a sprig of rosemary; she heard a slight tsk. Tav shot Gale a look, but his nose was thoroughly buried in his book. She returned to the herb options, only to again hear a slight puff of air in protestation. At this point, Tav had to actively smother the laughter bubbling from her. 

“Gale, would you assist me in spice selection for tonight?” Tav asked, a hand precautionarily placed in front of her growing smile. His eyes appeared over the top of his book.

“Oh! I’d happily offer my two sense if you’d like. Together, we shall concoct a feast fit for kings and queens, or at the very least, our little troupe." He beamed, looking quite pleased she'd asked for his help.

From there, Tav listened intently as Gale described the importance of aromatics in produce selection, then moving on to the best manner of garlic peeling. Gale soon realized that he’d entirely taken over cooking from her, though it seemed she’d not minded…

 “You know, I’ve found, when learning a kinetic skill, you should watch the hands at least once during the demonstration.” He teased, his own face tinting pink under her prolonged gaze.

“Oh yes, of course.” Tav turned her face back to the fire, taking the warmth of her eyes with it. He wished he kept her gaze, cursing himself for making mention of it. 

“I thought you’d have tired of your chef duties, given the day you’d had,” Tav said, maintaining a lightness in her tone. 

“No worse than anyone else’s, I’m sure. Our predicament continues to be as befuddling as it is rife with conflict.” Gale wondered what he could say to return her eyes to him. “Besides, I don’t think I could ever tire of this, or your company for that matter…”

Like a gift from the gods, he was given her full attention again. The look of softness in her eyes reached into his chest just to cradle his heart.

“Nor I.” She said simply.

[stromuprisahat]

I was watching this Indian series on Netflix about the life of courtesans during pre-independence India (it's called Heeramandi). It's not the best series, there are definitely historical accuracy issues and issues with the way the courtesans are written in moments, but one subplot I thought was interesting was one where one of the courtesans has a wealthy patron who's also her lover sort of, and the main reason she indulges him is because he gives her information related to how the British government wants to undermine the freedom fighters who are fighting for India's independence, and she then feeds this information to the freedom fighters because she's also one of them. I'm only bringing this up, because I was vaguely reminded of Genya from Shadow and Bone, and even though both stories have major differences, I really wish we had gotten an interesting subplot like this for Genya with interesting politics and Genya getting to do more interesting espionage related things instead of the plot we actually got. What are your thoughts?

Well, there are the obvious issues- Genya's too young to be satisfyingly trained, therefore not the ideal choice for intel extraction. Current Tsar's proclivities disqualify experienced personel for the job, but then again they make him unlikely to serve as a source of information. Or do we believe he speaks strategy, when raping a maid? Sure, he can be monologuing, but the whole seductive spies idea stands on ability to procure specific info, therefore directed interaction.

There's plenty of interesting AUs in it- Genya as the Royal mistress, helping to undermine the rule of the man, whose bed she shares-, but unfortunately those remain only AUs. What could've been canon-compliant, is her post-war station. I have no fucking clue, what's her official position supposed to be, but I disagree.

SHE should've been THE spymaster.

She has insight into politics, she's (suddenly permanently) Tailoring spies for their missions, she used to be intelligent and cunning, hell, she can have a semi-official diplomatic position to go with it!

Think book!Varys or book!Dijkstra in gorgeous outfits!

[the12thnightproject]

Chapter Ten:  Waves (Mitsunari POV) - Mitsunari isn’t great with emotion… but he’s very good at strategy. But can he strategize his way to a new connection with Okatsu?

Mitsunari x OC; Nobunaga x Mai

Previous Chapter

Logline - In order to protect a political alliance, Katusko and Mitsunari must pretend an engagement. But this “all business” arrangement is threatened by a coup against Nobunaga… and by feelings.

From the Military Notes of Ishida Mitsunari…

Strategy: the employment of a nation's military capabilities through high level and long-term planning, development, and procurement to guarantee security or victory. Tactics, which contribute to the achievement of the overall strategy, can be limited to a single battle and used to reach a short-term objective.

Personal comments: I understand tactics and strategy when it comes to war. I understand nothing when it comes to human interactions. And yet, strategy is not constrained within the parameters of a battlefield. Therefore, why wouldn’t it be possible to use military tactics and strategy to reach an interpersonal objective?

“What other behavior can you expect out of … newlywebs.”

The fact that both Nobunaga and Mai both found Mitsunari’s spider… hunt… amusing ought to have been a relief, but Mitsunari was too aghast at his own behavior to feel anything but shame. He had put his hand on her… no. This was a memory he would need to push far far down, and only examine later, when the embarrassment was not as fresh. The only relief was that although Okatsu had laughed at the incident, she hadn’t seemed to be laughing at him. He suspected she was laughing at herself.

Even so, his… internal upheaval lasted until he decided instead to revisit the book he had been reading that afternoon. Concentrating on the text helped him feel more like himself, and as the meal progressed, Mitsunari lost himself in the comfort of words. Of ideas. Of strategy.

In the practical art of war, the best thing of all is to take the enemy’s country whole and intact; to shatter and destroy it is not so good. So, too, it is better to capture an army entire than to destroy it, to capture a regiment, a detachment or a company entire than to destroy them.

Hence to fight and conquer in all your battles is not supreme excellence; supreme excellence consists in breaking the enemy’s resistance without fighting.

Thus the highest form of generalship is to baulk the enemy’s plans; the next best is to prevent the junction of the enemy’s forces; the next in order is to attack the enemy’s army in the field; and the worst policy of all is to besiege walled cities. The rule is, not to besiege walled cities if it can possibly be avo-

!

Okatsu had just moved his soup bowl!

The words in his head scattered, chased away by images, flashes really, of memory. Okatsu moving his teacup away from his arm. Okatsu edging his chopsticks away from the ledge of the table. Okatsu catching a bottle of sake before it fell. Okatsu… preventing the stack of books from falling on him. She had been covertly assisting him for a while now. “Lady Okatsu, you do that a lot… am I correct?”

As per usual, Okatsu was businesslike in her assessment – possibly her view was that if a job needed doing, she would do it without hesitation. “Honestly, it’s instinctive at this point… but would you prefer I didn’t?”

“I’d rather I didn’t make it necessary.” No wonder she had treated the spider incident so casually. She had dealt with his clumsiness so often that it likely was no more than a matter of duty for her. In a way, he supposed it was.

With a shrug, Okatsu treated his worry like it was simply something he could strategize a solution for. “Pretend your meal is a sparring match and your goal is not to come into any accidental contact with anything on the table.”

Would that work? It was a solution he hadn’t thought about, but it required him to pay attention while he ate. Which meant if it worked, that his problem wasn’t inherent and incurable clumsiness, but focus. Did it also mean that Okatsu didn’t believe he was a lost cause? For some reason, that theory made him feel… well… hopeful, though he wasn’t sure why that was so. “Thank you, Lady Okatsu. I will try that.”

After dinner, Hideyoshi requested Mitsunari’s presence for a ‘short discussion,’ and Mitsunari wouldn’t have refused, even if he had wanted to. Unless the short discussion had to do with the spider incident. Which he would rather not think about yet. Or perhaps ever.

Unfortunately, once they reached the privacy of Hideyoshi’s rooms, that was exactly the topic Hideyoshi brought up. It was a casual mention, a comment thrown out while he was setting out his pipe and the Nanban ‘Tabaco’ that he’d developed a taste for. “Mitsunari, did Okatsu ask you to tou-”

Mitsunari stopped him right there. “I reached to brush away the spider, but it moved the other direction. I didn’t think, even when…” He paused, as the whole scene came rushing back, this time including Okatsu’s words. “She said, ‘wait, no’.” And he hadn’t listened. Once again, he wanted to retreat into the memory of his books. “I behaved worse than Mozumi.”

“No, clearly it was an honest mistake and Okatsu will-” Hideyoshi froze in the middle of packing the leaves into the pipe. “Mozumi? What did he do?”

“He took her to a shelf with books illustrating various acts of copulation and tried to touch her.” More shame, this time for not realizing what had been going on at the time. Had he been aware of what Mozumi was doing, he would have confronted the man.

“That…” Hideyoshi seemed at a loss for words. He sputtered a few nonsense syllables while his hands tightened on the stem of the pipe. Finally, he gathered himself back together. “How did Okatsu react?”

“She said she pretended to be stupid because she believed Mozumi would lose interest in bothering her.” Hm. Interesting that she had not reacted with her knife, the way she had when the sailor grabbed her. “He had already left the room before she told me what happened, or I would have let him know that was unacceptable… do you believe that I should confront him?”

Hideyoshi said nothing for a long moment, and the only noise was the rhythmic tapping of the pipe against the desk. “Lady Okatsu likely had the correct idea. I will discuss this with Nobunaga, and together we will subtly let Mozumi know we are watching him. Many would say that he has done nothing wrong, and indeed, he may not be aware that we find this kind of behavior inexcusable.”

“If it is inexcusable, then why are we excusing it?” Mitsunari did not want to give Mozumi another chance to bother Okatsu.

“We are not. Nobunaga will make it clear that Okatsu and Mai are under his protection, and insult to them would be a grave insult to him.” Hideyoshi gave a decisive nod. “Mozumi will not dare repeat the offense.”

With a bow, Mitsunari signaled his external agreement. Nobunaga would handle it. Internally, though, he promised himself that if Mozumi bothered Okatsu again, Mitsunari would also let him know this behavior was inexcusable.

When he returned to ‘their room,’ Okatsu was nowhere to be found. Was she avoiding him because of the spider? Or… what if Mozumi had decided that Okatsu would be a good victim after all? Spurred by that fear, Mitsunari hurried back to the banquet room, where a quick look at the scene inside was enough to confirm that Mozumi would likely be occupied for a while, if not the rest of the night.

Therefore, the good news was that Okatsu was not in danger from Mozumi. The bad news was that he still didn’t know where she was.

“Are you searching for Lady Okatsu?”

Mitsunari looked around, then down to see Mozumi’s young son addressing him. Unfortunately, Mitsunari couldn’t remember the child’s name, so instead, he simply nodded.

“She went to visit her horse.” The child bowed, then was towed off into the bowels of the castle by a harried looking retainer.

That mystery solved, Mitsunari returned to the room again, changed into his night clothing, and tried to concentrate on reading until Okatsu finally joined him. Just in case she was upset, he apologized again for putting his hand on her.

“It’s ok. Really. I know it was an accident.” Okatsu confirmed Hideyoshi’s take on the incident. “Could have been worse. Could have been a snake.” She rummaged through the shelves and found a night kimono, then casually strolled behind the screen.

Again, the sound of the rustle of her clothing against her skin did strange things to his senses. The screen was slightly raised above the floor – he could see her feet and ankles, as she stepped out of the discarded kimono. To distract himself from picturing the rest of her legs, he asked, “Are you afraid of snakes?”

“Only if they are poisonous. It was more that I was thinking a whole snake would have been pretty annoying in my clothes.” Rustle, rustle. She reappeared, fully covered in a turquoise kimono – apparently Mai had decided to make her something in her favorite color after all.

Mitsunari dragged his attention back to his book – it was odd not having the focus to read. Then again, he had never had to share quarters with a female person before … he was bound to find their ways and rituals curious. Still, it would be impolite to watch her, so he kept his eyes on the book, and only allowed himself covert glances out of the corner of his eyes. She placed her futon perpendicular to his, so that the tops met at the corner. She would be sleeping so close to him!

He would be able to hear her breathe.

The thought was oddly exciting.

She looked over at him and caught him staring. He was about to apologize again, but instead, she surprised him with new information. “Mitsuhide is in the stables.”

“Did he explain why?” Perhaps there was another purpose to this visit beyond an alliance and treaty. Mitsuhide would not have joined them, especially not in secret, if there weren’t an element of intrigue to be had.

She paused, and though there was no expression on her face, he realized her thoughts had gone the same direction as his. Mitsunari wasn’t sure how he knew this – perhaps like a book, Okatsu became more familiar with study. “No. Simply that he’d originally planned to send Kyubei, but that he needed Kyubei to go somewhere else.”

“It is always a good idea to have an undisclosed agent in reserve if you are unsure of your territory.” He watched Okatsu arrange her blankets and crawl into her futon. Hm. She likely did not plan to read before sleep. “Are you going to sleep now? Should I blow out the lantern?”

“If you want to keep reading, go ahead. It likely won’t make any difference.” Okatsu lay on her back. Rustle. Then on her side. Rustle. Then she cradled her arms under her head and pulled her knees up to chest. Rustle.

He blew out the light and in the sudden blackness, every breath and movement from her was magnified. Even in the dark, the image of her curled up in the bed was seared into his mind. He could hear her breathing softly, in and out, and imagined the rise and fall of her torso as she inhaled and exhaled. Her breathing reminded him of waves upon the shore.

When he was still answering to his childhood name of Sakichi, he had travelled with his father and brother to the ocean. He’d stood at the shoreline, fascinated by the way the waves lapped at his feet, then rolled back into the waters. What caused the motion? It had been a mystery he’d never solved. Even so, the knowledge that the waters approached and departed and approached and departed was a solace to him, evidence of an order and rhythm to a world that otherwise was characterized by disorder and chaos.

Listening to Okatsu breathing made him feel like he was back on that shore, with the steady rhythm of the waves providing comfort after a chaotic day. He focused on her breathing until the world softened and blackened.

Until some time later when his slumber was disturbed by the sound of Okatsu thrashing about. She sat up with a cry that choked off an instant after it began.

“Okatsu? Is anything wrong?” No one had come in to attack them. A bad dream?

“Yes, sorry. Did I wake you up?” Okatsu sounded as embarrassed as he had felt when he chased the spider into her clothing.

“Yes, but I don’t mind. Did you have a nightmare?” It was too dark to see her clearly, but Mitsunari rolled on his side to face her anyway. “This is why you don’t sleep?”

She took a deep breath as she lay back down. “A few years ago, I got trapped in a crate for a day and I still have nightmares about that.”

Trapped in a crate? A box? For an entire day? Though he didn’t quite grasp how that had come about, he wanted to comfort her, comfort her in the way that books, and the water could be a comfort to him. Perhaps he should offer a hug?

No… that felt like it would be too much of an imposition.

He reached over and tentatively patted her on her head. They way he would if she were Kitty and had curled up with him.

Her hair was soft.

She froze.

He held his breath.

Maybe this had been the wrong thing to do?

Then she moved closer, giving him greater access.

“I’m sad that happened to you.” Would it be wrong to ask her for more details? He supposed if she didn’t want to talk about it, she would say so. “Why were you stuck in a crate? Was it too small? I once got my hand stuck in Nobunaga’s candy jar.” He decided not to mention that he had only done such a thing at Mitsuhide’s instigation.

He could feel her relax further at his statement, as he had intended her to. “Was he upset?”

“No. Hideyoshi started using bigger jars, which resulted in more candy, so Nobunaga said he was pleased with my strategy.” He twined his fingers in her hair, careful not to accidentally snag it. Like the sea, he supposed, like waves. That was how to touch her. Ebb and flow. “Why were you stuck in the crate?”

“It’s kind of a long story. It was part of a plan to rescue my brother, but things went wrong.” She tensed up again, and Mitsunari concentrated on sending soothing thoughts through his hand. To heal if he was able. “Or I thought it was part of a plan to rescue my brother, but apparently it was actually a plan to get me out of the way, or even kill me… and no I don’t know why, but if I ever find the person who shut me in there, that’s one of the questions I plan to ask him.”

The anger Mitsunari had felt when he’d realized what Mozumi had done was nothing compared to the rage swelling up in him when he pictured Okatsu locked in and alone, left to die. He willed that feeling away – now was not the time for that. He could rage later. This was for figuring out what Okatsu needed, if he could, or letting her choose, if he could not. Because this incident had left scars, not simply with bad dreams. Okatsu seemed more restless when she was indoors, and she--. “This is why you like being outside or near windows, isn’t it?”

“Yes. That’s-” Whatever she meant to say was interrupted by a yawn.

“Maybe you can sleep better now?” Although he liked talking to her in the dark, it would be better for both if they slept.

“I’ll try.” She burrowed into the bed but stayed within his reach. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome Okatsu.” Since she seemed to enjoy it, he continued to caress the top of her head, as her breath slowed and the tension eased from her body.

She was asleep now, he could tell. Mitsunari considered removing his hand from her hair, but he was enjoying the texture of it as it curled very slightly under his fingertips. Okatsu had seemed so competent, even businesslike with him until this night that he hadn’t realized she was hiding behind that. It was her armor. A castle with gates and a moat.

As a strategist, he appreciated that competence, as he imagined Mitsuhide did as well, or the man wouldn’t have brought her into this.

But… as a man… he was now noticing there was softness there too. Maybe she didn’t want to be soft – if she had survived such a frightening attempt on her life by someone that – reading between the lines – she had trusted, Mitsunari could even understand why. But like that unexpected curl in her hair, it was there.

Though the residual embarrassment surged through him, he finally allowed himself to think back to the moment when he’d instinctively followed that spider’s path down the front of her kimono, and his fingers had encountered a different, an exciting softness. Another woman might have thrown a fit, or retreated into embarrassment, but Okatsu had simply laughed it off.

That had been a relief then. But now, with her sleeping quietly under his hand, he wished she had turned just a little pink, and looked at him with a dawning awareness in her eyes. Instead of being… businesslike.

No – businesslike was not how she treated him. She acted as if he were her brother – in fact – she had mentioned that he reminded her of him.

Perhaps that was for the best. They had made a bargain. Okatsu wanted to return to her life. Mitsunari wanted no distractions in his.

But… if he did change his mind… if… would he be able to change hers?

It… might be somewhat like a battle campaign. He was a strategist after all. If he could figure out a strategy for war, he could figure out one for affection.

If he wanted to.

Okatsu stirred in her sleep, and rolled over, leaving his hand behind, alone, and cold.

And Mitsunari knew.

He wanted to.

@lorei-writes @bestbryn @katriniac @lyds323 @briars7

[arstheor]

CONCEPT: housemd pacific rim au.

cuddy (retired assault specialist) is a shatterdome marshal. her specialities include strategy and weaponry.

officer wilson is the jaeger academy's best psych analyst. despite successfully completing all prerequisites to becoming a jaeger pilot, wilson could not find a sufficiently drift compatible partner during his time as a cadet.

officer house (retired jaeger pilot) is an experimental neural bridge operator and a renowned cryptozoologist. his ex-co-pilot, ex-wife stacy warner, is currently a fightmaster at the jaeger academy.

5 years prior to the events of the current plot, stacy disobeyed protocol and acted upon a radical new theory she had found in house's subconscious. although the mission was successful and the misconduct was forgiven, house permanently lost compatibility with his ex-wife-- his trust was broken beyond repair.

due to a demand for bigger, stronger jaegers that require more than the standard 2 pilots, cuddy has tasked house (and by extension, wilson) with curating a team of aspiring jaeger pilots that aim to work in endless combinations-- interchangeable triple, quadruple and even quintuple pairings. in other words, house inflicts extreme psychological warfare on his ducklings to procure the ppdc's very first drift compatible Jaeger Unit.

subplot: house and wilson get to find out that they're drift compatible and fight bigass kaijus tehe <3

[bmv1]

Smart Shopping Strategies: Electric Kettle and OTG Price Check for Savvy Consumers

In this era where electronic commerce prevails, procuring optimal pricing for domestic appliances such as electric kettles and portable ovens necessitates certain cunning as a consumer. Since quoted figures differ substantially from vendor to vendor, whether online or within traditional retail establishments, making an informed comparison before selecting a product is vital. The author provides suggestions to guide shoppers in exercising astuteness when seeking these popular kitchen tools commonly utilized in Indian households. Adopting such an approach may aid one in acting prudently as a purchaser.

Check Electric Kettle Prices from Multiple Stores

Electric kettles have become a staple in Indian household kitchens for quickly boiling water for tea, coffee, instant noodles and more. Basic electric kettle price with 1-1.5 litre capacity starts from around Rs. 800 and goes up to Rs. 2000 or more for models with temperature control features, keep warm functions, etc.

Instead of buying the first model you see, wise consumers should check prices across major online sites. as well as local appliance stores. Don’t just compare MRPs; look at the best-discounted price offered. This small effort can save you several hundred rupees on the same kettle model. 

Consider Functionality Along with the Price

While electric kettles under Rs. 1000 may seem tempting, they often compromise on safety mechanisms like auto shut-off and overheating protection. Spend a little more for better reliability and energy efficiency. Higher-priced electric kettles also usually come with keep-warm features that keep the water hot for up to 30 minutes. This can be handy when making several cups of beverage.

Evaluate Online Vs Offline Deals  

In general, online prices tend to be lower due to lower overheads. However, watch for occasional sales at local stores that may match or even beat online offers. Consider other factors like convenience, the ability to check products physically before buying, payment modes, delivery charges, etc., impact the overall cost.

Look at OTG Options Carefully

Unlike electric kettles with fairly standard functionality, OTGs can come in many sizes, designs, and feature variants. A basic 12-15 litre OTG price can be between Rs. 3000-4000. Higher capacity 25-30 litre models typically cost Rs. 6000 upwards but are ideal for larger households or those who bake frequently.   

When comparing different OTG models and prices, consider aspects like heating elements (coil vs sheet), temperature range, additional modes like grills, stainless steel cavities, timer functions, etc. All these add functionality that may be worth extra spending over basic models. Leading brands for OTGs include Morphy Richards, Bajaj and Prestige.  

Hunt for OTG Deals Online  

Buying an OTG online allows consumers to easily compare models, prices, and reviews, ensuring they find the perfect appliance for their baking, toasting, and grilling needs with minimal effort. As a relatively new entrant in many Indian homes, OTGs are a product category on which online sites frequently offer discounts and coupons, often with 20-30% off or more. Watch for OTG combo deals, too, e.g., OTG + bakeware kit. Again, check prices across sites to find the best bargain. Offline discounts may be limited for OTGs as they are not a mass market yet.   

Read Reviews Before Deciding

With so many appliance models in the market, customer reviews provide valuable insights that can guide buying decisions. Check reviews on online shopping sites and independent consumer forums to identify recurring issues related to product performance, after-sales service, etc. This can help you zero in on the best-value products.

Avail of Payment & Delivery Incentives  

Many e-commerce platforms offer incentives linked to payment methods or delivery selections to attract online shoppers. Using a certain credit card may get a 10% instant discount, while opting for slower delivery over standard delivery may qualify you for cashback. See if you can utilize such offers to maximize savings on buying an electric kettle online or making an OTG purchase.  

Keep an Eye Out for Sales & Promotions

Shopping festivals are a great time to score attractive deals on kitchen appliances. Brand-specific sales also offer price drops and bundled promotions. Subscribe to online store newsletters so you are updated on upcoming sales events.

To obtain optimal pricing on domestic appliances such as electric kettles and OTG ovens, one must diligently investigate and compare alternatives. Although the most inexpensive option may appear superficially appealing, it proves prudent to make purchases judiciously, factoring in one’s particular usage requirements and financial situation when taking the long view. Allocating additional time to explore product offerings through both online and traditional retail channels can ultimately translate to considerable reductions in expenditure.

[preblesboys]

”An Act To Increase the Navy of the United States!”

When your crush uses you as an armrest. *bites fist*

Just an excuse to draw my otp! You already know Mr. Peacock Man Lewis Warrington, here’s the other half Johnston Blakeley! Joining them is William Bainbridge’s younger brother Joseph Bainbridge who looks like a season one high school antagonist who you fight and ultimately win his begrudging respect.

January 2, 1813 President Madison signed a bill to build more ships for the navy. Congress authorized a class of powerful sloops of war that would be less costly and more quick to build.

Secretary William Jones outlined the strategy “It is intended to dispatch all our public ships, now in port, as well as soon as possible in such positions as may be best adapted to destroy the commerce of the enemy, from the Cape of Good Hope to Cape Clear, and to continue as long as possible, as long as the means of subsistence be procured in any quarter. If anything can draw the attention of the enemy from the annoyance of our coast for the protection of his own rich and exposed commercial fleets, it will be a course of this nature, and if this effect can be produced, the twofold objective of increasing the pressure on the enemy and relieving ourselves will be obtained.”

Joseph Bainbridge sailed the USS Frolic, Lewis Warrington commanded the um, let me see….. the USS Peacock! And Johnston Blakeley who was the last to ship out was on the USS Wasp.

This is parallel to Isaac Hull’s mini comic.

[steelindustryman]

MS Seamless Pipe at Lowest Price From Best Supplier

Mild Steel (MS) seamless pipes play a crucial role across a variety of industries, owing to their durability, strength, and flexibility. These pipes are widely used in applications such as construction, oil and gas pipelines, structural and mechanical components, and more. If you're seeking MS seamless pipes at the lowest price, Udhhyog is your ideal partner for high-quality, cost-effective industrial steel products.

What are MS Seamless Pipes?

MS seamless pipes are made from mild steel, a low-carbon steel that offers excellent workability and strength. Unlike welded pipes, seamless pipes are produced by extruding the metal to form a hollow tube, ensuring uniformity in structure without any welded seams. This process gives seamless pipes enhanced strength, which makes them ideal for heavy-duty industrial applications.

Key Characteristics of MS Seamless Pipes:

High Strength and Durability: Seamless pipes are known for their ability to withstand high pressure, temperature, and external forces without breaking or leaking.

Uniform Structure: The absence of a weld line provides a consistent thickness and smooth finish, which leads to improved performance.

Corrosion Resistance: Mild steel seamless pipes can be treated with coatings that provide additional protection against corrosion.

Versatility: MS seamless pipes are used in a wide range of industries, from construction and infrastructure projects to power plants and manufacturing facilities.

Why Choose Udhhyog for MS Seamless Pipes?

When it comes to MS seamless pipes, Udhhyog stands out as a trusted supplier, offering premium-quality products at highly competitive prices. Here’s why Udhhyog should be your go-to source for these critical industrial materials:

1. Top-Notch Product Quality

At Udhhyog, quality is never compromised. Our MS seamless pipes are manufactured to meet the highest industrial standards, ensuring exceptional performance and durability. Whether you need pipes for construction, oil and gas applications, or industrial manufacturing, Udhhyog's MS seamless pipes are designed to deliver optimal results in any environment.

2. Lowest Prices in the Market

One of Udhhyog’s key strengths is its ability to offer MS seamless pipes at the lowest prices. We understand that affordability is essential for businesses, especially MSMEs, and our competitive pricing strategy ensures that you get top-quality materials without overextending your budget.

3. Streamlined Procurement Process

At Udhhyog, we believe in simplifying the procurement process for our clients. Through our technology-driven platform, you can browse a wide selection of steel products, including MS seamless pipes, and make purchases with ease. We provide real-time pricing, inventory updates, and flexible payment options, including credit facilities for MSMEs, making the entire process seamless and efficient.

4. A Wide Range of Products

While MS seamless pipes are a key product offering, Udhhyog also specializes in a broad array of steel materials, such as flanges, valves, pipe fittings, and more. This means you can source all your industrial needs from a single, trusted supplier. With Udhhyog, you save time, money, and the hassle of dealing with multiple vendors.

5. Tailored Solutions for MSMEs

As a dedicated B2B platform, Udhhyog understands the unique challenges faced by MSMEs. To help these businesses succeed, we offer tailored solutions, including credit-based procurement and flexible payment plans. This allows smaller companies to access the high-quality materials they need without financial strain.

6. Nationwide Delivery

Wherever your business is located in India, Udhhyog has a robust distribution network that ensures timely delivery of your MS seamless pipes. Whether you're based in a major city or a more remote industrial area, Udhhyog guarantees fast and reliable delivery across the country.

Applications of MS Seamless Pipes

MS seamless pipes are widely used in various industries due to their strength and flexibility. Some of the primary applications include:

Construction and Infrastructure: MS seamless pipes are commonly used in scaffolding, structural frames, and foundation reinforcements for buildings and bridges.

Oil and Gas: Their ability to withstand high pressure and harsh environments makes seamless pipes essential for oil and gas pipelines and drilling operations.

Mechanical and Automotive: These pipes are used in manufacturing machinery, automotive components, and hydraulic systems due to their high strength and resilience.

Power Generation: Seamless pipes are employed in power plants, where high-pressure and high-temperature steam and water need to be transported through reliable piping systems.

Water Treatment and Plumbing: MS seamless pipes are often used in water distribution systems, sewage pipelines, and municipal plumbing due to their durability and corrosion resistance.

Industrial Manufacturing: These pipes are used in manufacturing plants for transporting gases, liquids, and other materials, as well as in the production of mechanical components.

Why Udhhyog is Your Ideal MS Seamless Pipe Supplier

At Udhhyog, customer satisfaction is at the forefront of our business. Our team works closely with clients to understand their requirements and provide the best possible solutions. Whether you’re a small enterprise or a large industrial company, we offer high-quality MS seamless pipes tailored to your needs.

By leveraging advanced technology and maintaining strong relationships with manufacturers, Udhhyog is able to offer superior products at prices that meet the demands of businesses of all sizes. Our online platform makes the purchasing process simple, fast, and transparent, ensuring you get the right products delivered on time, every time.

For all your industrial needs, including MS seamless pipes, trust Udhhyog for a seamless procurement experience. Visit Udhhyog and explore our range of industrial steel products at unbeatable prices today!

[okpai]

The right methodology and strategy can assist in foreseeing lottery with numbering

Each person who is attempting their "destiny" in lottery game wishes to foresee lottery sometime that can assist them with winning a jackpot. Be that as it may, it is truly conceivable assuming that the right methodology or procedure is taken.

There are clear numerical as well as factual examinations available that can assist in forming the best number expectation for any lottery with gaming. The principal motivation behind lottery is to win a powerful amount effectively without procuring it through difficult work. The enthusiasm and wish to win lottery is such a lot of that each devotee or player can go to any degree to guarantee a jackpot.

In any case, lottery game is something past karma and destiny. It is unadulterated numerical and exhaustive investigation of numbers. By following a few unique and reasonable procedures each individual can foresee the most ideal ways to win a particular game. Aside from asking and trusting it is far superior to look for proficient assist which with canning assist you with anticipating the number in light of study and exploration. It will expand the possibilities winning generally. Numerous lovers are found to follow different unique ways to expand the winning possibilities. Surfing and intensive exploration can give a big forward leap and assist you with winning a jackpot.

www.LottoPrediction.com is fundamentally group of experts and experienced people doing nitty gritty review to distinguish the most ideal ways of anticipating lottery numbers utilizing science and different new measurable strategies. The experts take a few new creative ways that are demonstrated successful for each lottery game. With appropriate utilization of measurements and high level numerical techniques speculating the right number is conceivable. Ensure you look for such expert assist that with canning be a far superior and successful way to win jackpot rather choosing numbers in light of commemoration dates, birth days and so on. They have assisted numerous with finding the right blend by following some unique and appropriate methodology in light of unadulterated high level arithmetic.

It is accepted that lottery forecast is very conceivable assuming the right strategy and method is followed. There are numerous misconceptions in regards to lottery ticket and winning procedure for a particular lottery game. Unless such misconceptions are not cleared upgrading the possibilities winning is extremely intense. With the right utilization of numerical computation and appropriate insights there are a few astonishing outcomes found that can leave any lottery devotee or player flabbergasted. It is found that such methods can enormously expand the possibilities winning to an unheard of level. It might happen that you bomb even subsequent to following a particular cycle yet there is that fulfillment with such legitimate strategies or methods.

The lottery estimate in light of science approaches and studies are far superior than then any irregular selection of lottery number. With time you learn all the more new realities and with each bet you can allow yourself the opportunity to anticipate lottery numbers. Ensure you look for such expert assist that with canning upgrade your possibilities winning lottery to all new level. There are many demonstrated realities and results with the utilization of cutting edge science and insights.

[udhhyog2]

Understanding the 2 Inch MS Flange Price

When dealing with industrial piping systems, the price of components like the 2 inch MS flange is a critical factor for businesses looking to maintain efficiency without compromising on quality. At Udhhyog, we understand the importance of both cost-effectiveness and reliability, which is why we offer competitive prices on our wide range of MS flanges.

What is a 2 Inch MS Flange?

A 2 inch MS flange is a crucial component used in various industrial applications to connect pipes, valves, and other equipment. Made from mild steel, these flanges are known for their durability, strength, and ability to withstand high pressure and temperature conditions. The "2 inch" specification refers to the nominal bore size, making it suitable for pipes with a 2 inch diameter.

Factors Influencing the Price of a 2 Inch MS Flange

The price of a 2 inch MS flange can vary based on several factors:

Material Quality:

The quality of mild steel used in manufacturing the flange directly impacts its price. Higher-grade materials that offer better resistance to corrosion and wear may come at a premium.

Manufacturing Process:

The complexity of the manufacturing process, including precision in dimensions and adherence to industry standards, can affect the cost. Flanges that are hot forged or precision machined are generally priced higher.

Coating and Finishing:

Additional coatings or finishes, such as galvanization, can increase the flange's durability and, consequently, its price. These coatings are essential for applications in corrosive environments.

Quantity Purchased:

Bulk purchasing often leads to cost savings. At Udhhyog, we offer competitive prices for bulk orders, making it more economical for businesses requiring large quantities of 2 inch MS flanges.

Market Demand:

Like many industrial products, the price of MS flanges can fluctuate based on market demand and raw material costs. Staying informed about market trends can help in making cost-effective procurement decisions.

Why Choose Udhhyog for 2 Inch MS Flanges?

At Udhhyog, we prioritize quality, affordability, and customer satisfaction. Here’s why businesses choose us for their 2 inch MS flange needs:

Competitive Pricing: We offer some of the most competitive prices in the market without compromising on quality. Our pricing strategy is designed to provide maximum value to our customers.

Customization: Need specific dimensions or coatings? We can customize flanges according to your precise requirements, ensuring they meet the demands of your specific application.

Quality Assurance: Every 2 inch MS flange we manufacture undergoes stringent quality checks to ensure it meets the highest industry standards.

Timely Delivery: With a well-organized supply chain, we ensure that your orders are delivered on time, helping you keep your projects on schedule.

How to Get the Best Price for a 2 Inch MS Flange?

To get the best price for a 2 inch MS flange, consider the following tips:

Request Quotes: Reach out to multiple suppliers and request detailed quotes. At Udhhyog, we provide transparent pricing with no hidden costs.

Compare Quality: Don’t just look at the price—compare the quality of the flanges offered. A slightly higher price for better quality can save you money in the long run by reducing maintenance and replacement costs.

Consider Bulk Orders: As mentioned earlier, purchasing in bulk can reduce the overall cost per unit. Udhhyog offers discounts on bulk orders, making it a cost-effective option for large projects.

Negotiate: Don’t hesitate to negotiate, especially if you’re placing a large order. We at Udhhyog are open to discussions to ensure you get the best deal possible.

[mavaji]

Ensuring Quality Control and Consistency: Strategies of the Best Fabric Exporter in India

As the premier fabric exporter in India, Mavazi Fabric takes pride in upholding the highest standards of quality control and consistency in all our products. Our commitment to excellence is unwavering, and we employ a range of strategies to ensure that every fabric we export meets and exceeds the expectations of our clients worldwide. Let's explore how the best fabric exporter in India, Mavazi Fabrics, ensures quality control and consistency across our operations.

1. Rigorous Supplier Selection Process

Quality control begins with sourcing the finest raw materials. At Mavazi Fabric, we partner with reputable suppliers who share our commitment to quality and ethical practices. Our procurement team conducts thorough assessments of potential suppliers, evaluating factors such as their reputation, reliability, production processes, and adherence to quality standards. By selecting the right suppliers, we lay the foundation for consistency and excellence in our products.

2. Comprehensive Quality Assurance Protocols

Quality assurance is a cornerstone of our operations at Mavazi Fabric. We have established comprehensive quality assurance protocols that govern every stage of production, from raw material inspection to finished product testing. Our dedicated team of quality control professionals meticulously inspects and tests each batch of fabric to ensure compliance with our stringent quality standards. By adhering to these protocols, we can identify and address any deviations from our quality benchmarks before they impact the final product.

3. State-of-the-Art Manufacturing Facilities

Our state-of-the-art manufacturing facilities are equipped with the latest technology and machinery to streamline production processes and maintain consistency in quality. We invest in cutting-edge equipment that enables us to achieve precision, efficiency, and reproducibility in every stage of fabric production. From spinning and weaving to dyeing and finishing, our manufacturing facilities are optimized for maximum efficiency and quality control.

4. Skilled Workforce and Continuous Training

Our greatest asset at Mavazi Fabric is our team of skilled professionals who are dedicated to upholding our commitment to quality and consistency. We invest in continuous training and skill development programs to ensure that our employees are equipped with the knowledge, expertise, and tools needed to excel in their roles. By fostering a culture of continuous learning and improvement, we empower our team to deliver exceptional results every time.

5. Feedback Mechanisms and Continuous Improvement

We recognize that quality is a journey, not a destination. That's why we actively seek feedback from our customers, suppliers, and internal stakeholders to identify areas for improvement and innovation. We value transparency and collaboration, and we leverage feedback mechanisms to drive continuous improvement in our processes, products, and services. By embracing a culture of continuous improvement, we can stay ahead of the curve and consistently deliver the highest quality fabrics to our customers.

Conclusion

At Mavazi Fabric, ensuring quality control and consistency is not just a goal; it's a commitment we uphold in every aspect of our operations. From rigorous supplier selection processes and comprehensive quality assurance protocols to state-of-the-art manufacturing facilities, skilled workforce, and continuous improvement initiatives, we leave no stone unturned in our quest for excellence. As the best fabric exporter in India, we are proud to set the standard for quality and consistency in the textile industry, delivering products that exceed expectations and delight our clients worldwide.

[whiskeygirll]

nick miller has ADHD headcanon !!

i love pondering the circumstances that led to nick getting into law school, because it's so wildly outside of his character as we know him, though he's very smart.

first of all it was definitely a spontaneous decision, he did not dream of law school his whole life nor has anyone in his family ever attended law school.

my headcanon is that in early days at Ass Strat schmidt was feeling the pressure to pull long hours, so he bought a crap ton of adderall off some college students. long story short nick ends up stealing it because he's curious about the effects and he proceeds to:

decide it would be cool to be a lawyer (he wants an excuse to carry a briefcase)

study for and take the LSAT, getting a super high score

apply to law schools

get in with significant merit scholarship funding

.... and then the adderall runs out.

nick struggles through law school to the best of his undiagnosed ability, relying heavily on strange coping strategies and forcing winston to sit in his room silently while he studies. he doesn't get any more adderall because he thought it was some illicit drug schmidt had procured and he's scared of getting "addicted" to it

fast forward to years ahead, nick is telling jess this story and she matter-of-factly informs him that he has ADHD

"Pfff, I don't have ADHD. I can sit very still. Watch."

and so jess drags nick to get evaluated and at 35 years old nick miller is sitting with a diagnosis in his hands, proof that he is not stupid, or lazy, and never has been. he was just undiagnosed.

[silcodependent]

Sway Chapter 6

Silco x Fem!Reader 4.2K Words

The building Remy had procured for your lodging was located in what he referred to as “The Promenade”, which was a fancy way of saying that you were in the best part of the worst part of town. Living on the Promenade afforded you many luxuries unavailable to some in the Undercity. One you were particularly fond of was hot water. There was nothing like a long hot shower to start the day or to relieve your muscles after a strenuous rehearsal, something that most people in fissures would never know the simple joy of. But this morning, luxuries be damned, you were draining the entire Undercity of every drop of cold water you could physically stand. 

The chill of the cold tiles pressed to your hands complemented the frigid water running down your back, your neck, your face serving as the perfect punishment and distraction from the evening before. 

You couldn’t help your dreams. You knew that but…

Somehow, this felt more dangerous. Less like a dream and more like a fantasy.

You shook that thought from your mind sending water splattering onto the walls of your shower. Absolutely not. And you were determined to stay in the shower until you had washed away all traces of him. 

His velvet voice. His captivating eyes. That cocky calculated attitude. The brush of those long elegant fingers on your skin that left you wanting more.

No. None of that. It was a stupid dream and now it was up to you to put as much distance from you and last night as possible. It was up to you to regain your composure. To regain control. 

But truthfully, that wasn’t going as well as you would like. You had endured the icy water of this shower for over 20 minutes now and it had done nothing but make you long for his hands to warm you. It was time to change strategy. 

Temperature change, intense physical exercise, and paced breathing and muscle relaxation were a foolproof way to save yourself from distressing thoughts and this stubborn infatuation had you pulling every tool from your tool box as you loaded up your dance bag and made your way to check the second step off your list. It was rare you ever needed step two but Silco was proving a frustrating exception to most of your rules after only your second encounter.

Usually, you went to the club to dance, either working on your routines or simply enjoying the art of moving your body but today required much more than the usual. That is what led you to the door of the towering gutted out structure that was the abandoned Piltover Opera House.

You had spent many a night staring at it from your balcony while taking in the view of the promenade before the bridge, set against the bright lights of the city of progress. Every city had the haves and the have-nots, you knew that better than most, but Piltover was different. A divide this great screamed for revolution as any historian would caution. 

Perhaps the scream had already come, you thought to yourself as you stepped over rubble and bits of the ceiling that collapsed into aisles of theatre. It would explain why so much of the promenade was left to rot by those of the undercity and the elite of the other side of the bridge. 

You had certainly missed the prime of this theatre. What was left of the white marble in the lobby was hardly discernible from what appeared to be layers of soot and grime sealed by time. This whole place felt like it had been sealed by time, like it had seen some horrible act of violence and was left to stew its abandonment and destruction for years. Until today. There was a stillness in the air that made you feel like you were the only person to discover this forgotten treasure. Although you knew that couldn’t be true this place spoke to you nonetheless.

The stage had seen better days as well. It was certainly weathered by time and neglect but still structurally sound. It would do.

As you leaned upon a forlorn chair dragged from backstage as your makeshift bar, you could hardly believe that this could be the place you visited with your parents all those years ago. You had sat in one of the private boxes in the mezzanine and watched the audience fall in love with your father's romantic tenor and your mother’s captivating arias. This place had seemed like a palace then with its enormous crystal chandeliers and elaborate gold trim. Now it was a mere shell of its regal countenance, all traces of its former grandeur conspicuously absent, which in itself told another story. 

This morning’s cold shower certainly didn’t help your muscles warm up any faster but by the end of your barre work you had worked up a little sweat. That’s one of the things you loved about dance, especially ballet; it took all your concentration. When you danced, you were fully present, lost only to the art and not at all in the world around you or the thoughts in your head. You were the dance; nothing more, nothing less.

For today, a ballet fully improvised, existing only to you the dancer in this moment and once danced never to be seen again. And here, the decaying remains of a past life seemed the most fitting for such a dance. You had no lights, no barre--only this rickety old chair and a large hole in the ceiling over the house for light. You had no pointe shoes, only your basic ballet slippers. You had no music, although the stage gave birth to an orchestra pit that you were sure once brought to life compositions from around the world. But today, in the stillness of the forgotten, the past lingered as the only audience. There could only be one song for such a dance. 

Your mother’s aria rang in your mind as you took your opening steps, slowly with the grace and precision that the opening notes of a lament call for. Gradually, you built to the emotion until your fortes spinning in bright burning energy slowed into the ache of longing reaching out with the gentle fingers of an arabesque.

Remember me but forget my fate. 

When I Am Laid In Earth, or Queen Dido’s Lament. This was the last place she had performed that song all those years ago. It suited the ruins of this place.

The string instruments draw to a close the final notes and you linger in the last moment of the dance, holding your closing position until the bows have left their strings and the stillness of the room has returned. You make no move to bow, there isn’t a point, although that dance felt like it had been a true performance. Like it had been seen, witnessed by something more than your mother’s memory and the dust in the air. 

That’s why the sound of applause from the back of the house shouldn’t have surprised you but it did. But not nearly as much as the person giving such praise.

His perfectly put together visage felt surreal in such a place. So much so that you had to look twice to make sure you weren’t imagining him, some left over specter from the night before. But no, there Silco was making his way down the aisle still applauding, a small smile haunting his features.

“I didn’t know someone could do something so beautiful with silence”, he said as he approached the edge of the stage.

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you went to retrieve your water bottle.

“Isn’t it too early for you to be this charming? That’s champagne talk.”

That earned you a chuckle as he eyed you carefully, “Perhaps. I didn’t take you as a fan of ballet.” 

“I could say the same.” you added in between sips. 

Your eyes lingered on each other for a long moment. Was this a stand off? Were you going to engage with him again after the night and subsequent morning you’d had? He seemed to ooze danger and devilish charm that drew you in like a moth to a flame. So, yes, it was a stand off but not in the way you had originally imagined. It was you and your reasoning looking down a sea of decisions, most of them better than the ones you were about to make.

The sound of your footsteps was louder than you expected as you joined Silco on the edge of the stage, perhaps it was the sound leading you to your doom. He offered you his gloved hand to help you sit as though he were helping a foreign diplomat out of a carriage. But for all his chivalry and charm his eyes still scrutinized you as though he was looking for something hidden under the first layer of your skin. And from what you had heard about him, he wasn’t opposed to removing such obstacles to find the answers.

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same” Silco retorted

“I came here to dance, what’s your excuse?”

You could tell he didn’t think much of your answer by the way he didn’t regard you as he spoke.

“You have an entire club dedicated to your dancing and you came to this rotting edifice?” He was lost to his own reverie as he looked out into where an audience once sat. 

“It’s good to shake it up a bit, to know the place you live. I’ve been eyeing this place from my balcony since I arrived. Today seemed just as good as any other to explore.” His elbows leaned with his back on the stage as you both took in the scene before you.

“You make for an interesting tourist if these are the kind of places you frequent.” 

“The kind of places we frequent.” You corrected.

By the way he exhaled, you could have sworn you were close to getting a laugh out of him. At least he found you amusing. That boded well for your first layer of skin.

“So, what brings you to this ‘rotting edifice’?” Your smile creeped into your voice as he continued to stare off at something you couldn’t see. It was startling how easy it was to settle back into the teasing banter of the night before. You refused to be led back down that road but this wasn’t that it was just…

You drank him in as he considered your question, determining his answer, sucking his teeth as if you had asked him something truly difficult. Which you hadn’t. It was almost enough to make you laugh. Fortunately, you were able to suppress that impulse which made his next words all the sweeter.

“Sometimes…I walk to clear my mind. Places like this serve as a good reminder of what I’m fighting for. For Zaun, for it’s people. For something more than the complacency of survival. Today this happens to be where my feet led me.” 

Suddenly you understood the deliberation. You had only just met this man within the last twenty four hours but there was something to his words that made you certain he’d never told that to anyone before. The information wasn’t particularly sensitive but saying something aloud for the first time always was. He had to weigh it, the intimacy and vulnerability of this seemingly useless information about his habits. It painted him in a new light and reminded you of the way his hands flexed furiously at his sides when you startled him last night.  When he wasn’t in control. There was something oddly sweet about it all.

“Did it work?”

“Hmmm?” Silco still seemed to be fixed on something in the audience that was more memory than reality.

“Is your mind clear?” You leaned in, with a gentle whisper ghosting his ear. 

He turned his face to you ever so slightly, revealing the lines of his deep scars and unblinking poisonous eyes. It was enough to have sent shivers down the spine of most people, something he seemed keenly aware of. But you simply smiled a cheeky smile, happy to finally have gotten his attention. 

“No, I’m afraid not.” He said, fully turning to face you. 

“Although, your performance was a much needed distraction. May I convince you into an encore?” A familiar smirk returning to his lips, as the same familiar charm returned to his words.

“If you’re good at something, never do it for free.” You teased, shaking your head.

“That's too bad. I get the feeling this isn’t something I’m going to be seeing in your club.”

A heavy sigh expelled from your chest as a resigned smile settled on your lips. “Probably not.” You had already started to stand when Silco’s words pulled you back.

“May I ask you something?” The pause that followed after proved that he was sincere. 

Don’t get involved. We’re putting distance between last night. 

But after his little truths earlier it felt dirty, cruel even, to walk away now. Without a word, you sat back down at your spot on the edge of the stage, knowing that was answer enough.

“You dance beautifully, exquisitely.” The compliment made you blush with its earnestness.

 “Why did you choose Burlesque over Ballet?” 

Silco’s mismatched eyes lingered on you, implored you, bore through you. He looked at you like you had the secret to unlock the world hidden inside of you. Like if he looked hard enough, he could truly see you, past the walls you two erected and demolished in between sentences and glances. Perhaps even solve the mystery he was so focused on. 

But the question weighed on you more than you realized. It was your turn to dive into the waters vulnerability.

“I love ballet, I truly do. But the energy, the creative freedom, is not the same. Ballet can give you a range of emotions and experiences as both the dancer and the audience but it’s like viewing a masterpiece through glass. An unnecessary distance between the art and those experiencing it. It’s rigid that way, exclusive and committed to its own ideas of right and wrong. Burlesque is not known for evoking the same range of emotions as a ballet--not that it couldn’t, but the ones it does evoke are shared with everyone who sees it. It’s a conversation with the audience where the dancer is in full control; the speed, the tenor, how much is being shared, what is being communicated. You create something and share that same breath with the audience and for a moment the room is experiencing the same emotion, the same thread of life together.” The answer escaped you like a confession and left you a little breathless at the end of the telling.

Silco’s face was impassive and unreadable. He simply stared at you, eyes fliting over the features of your face. A sure sign that you had gone too far with your own truth. You closed your eyes at the embarrassment of it all. 

“It’s a celebration.” replied the silk voice from in front of you. Your eyes fluttered open in surprise. Silco was closer to you now than he had been when you closed them. Or was it just your imagination? There was some sort of keen interest burning behind his eyes now as they were fixed on your face and softness there that you were sure you must be in your mind. But it caused your breath to hitch in your chest just the same.

“A celebration.” You repeated in hushed tones, afraid to break the spell. He was right. Did he genuinely understand you or was this a trick of his silver tongue? It was funny how easily he took your words and effortlessly extracted their meaning, respinning them into their most pure concise sentiment. It was a gift and he certainly had it. 

A small shiver ran through your body, immediately catching his attention.

“Cold?”

“I must have forgotten to turn on the heat.” You remarked looking over the brokenness of the room around you. 

“I’m afraid this building is far past the days of comfort.” Silco’s gaze drifted back out to the audience, where the light spilled in from the hole in the ceiling.

“Can I ask you something?” It was your turn now.

Silco seemed to understand that too as he chuckled and nodded his permission.

“What happened to this place?”

“Revolution.” 

He did nothing to clarify his statement even when seeing your brows furrowed in confusion. So revolution had come and gone but that did little explain the state of things now.

“It’s ancient history now. Something that neither time nor the ever advancing City of Progress remember.”

“You know, Cyrano,” The sound of your voice seemed to chase away the ghosts of the past he was fixated on, “if I didn’t know any better, I would think you’re holding out on me.”

There was no doubt that Silco had earned every bit of his reputation as the most dangerous man in the undercity and you certainly didn’t intend to give more than you got with him. Distance hadn’t worked out quite how you’d hope, so the next best thing you get would be tit for tat, an equal exchange. You had opened up, now it was his turn except he didn’t seem so keen to repay the gesture. How far was it appropriate or safe to push the city’s most notorious kingpin?

His amused exhale relaxed your nerves minutely. 

“Perhaps. It’s not a pretty story.”

“Then it’s good I didn’t ask for one.” Challenging him like this couldn’t be a good idea. Especially not after last night but you couldn’t help yourself. There was something about him that brought it out of you, stoked a fire in you for better or worse, one you weren’t sure you knew how to control.

Sea green and glowing red considered you for a moment, perhaps deciding your fate. But you didn’t budge an inch on what you wanted, despite the sound of reason’s screams bouncing off the ceiling of your skull. The slightest turn of Silco’s lip let you know that you were too interesting to kill--yet.

“Some years back people from the Undercity banded together to stand up to Piltover and their mistreatment of their citizens. Piltover responded to it’s own people with violence instead of reason. That wasn’t entirely surprising but it changed things. The enforcers took the bridge and we took everything else we could get. Looting and burning any Piltie establishment on this side of the river.” Silco’s jaw tightened, like there was something he was fighting to keep in.

“What happened to them?”

He had you on the edge of your seat without trying. 

“To who?”

“The people of the undercity. The ones fighting against Piltover.”

“Did they get arrested for their crimes, you mean?” Silco scoffed.

“No. Did they take this fight across the bridge? Did Piltover listen?” 

“What do you think.”

His answer was honest and cold and echoed in the empty silence of the room. You felt a little smaller for asking it. But you didn’t begrudge him the truth. Now you were even.

“It’s a shame.” You said without looking at him as you got to your feet.

Silco’s mismatched gaze followed your silhouette back to your makeshift barre as you began to move through your positions again.

“Places like that, that have more than enough for everyone, have an obligation to its people. All it’s people. There is no excuse for the greed that keeps some in excess and others in poverty. It’s a disgrace.” 

Once satisfied with your barre work, you decided to show off just a little. Forte turns were on your list anyway, why not now? You chose your spot in the audience along your sight line, above Silco’s head. 

One. Two.

Your first couple of turns were gentle and easy, building speed for the next. 

Out of the bottom of your vision you noted movement, the stage giving way to a heavy creak.

Three.

“This place serves as a good reminder of how the other half lives while they deny us clean air and water. It's a good reminder of what we are fighting for.”

Four. 

The light changed next to you but you didn’t pull your eyes away from where you were spotting. Had he come on to the stage? 

Five.

He was distracting you, causing you to falter even if only briefly. You could feel his presence around you, but where? Uncertainty forced you to end your rotation there. Slightly out of breath from annoyance rather than exhaustion. Your eyes swept the stage from right to left but there wasn’t any sign of him. You turned to grab your water only to realize that Silco was inches away from you. Your body naturally retreated from the shock, letting out a sharp gasp and nearly falling over had there not been strong steady hands already around your waist. 

“Careful now. I wouldn’t want you to fall.”

Interesting choice of words. 

“Lucky for me, you’re quite the gentleman.”

It should feel wrong, those long elegant fingers sliding around your waist. The warmth of his body so close to yours, the feeling of his breath on your face, it should all feel wrong. But it doesn’t. It feels like fire dancing under your skin, like a spark. A spark quickly growing into a blaze.

“Did you say ‘we’?” his words felt different now, landing somewhere in between your ribs as you imagined the man before you all those years ago toe to toe with enforcers on the bridge.

His regal features were impassive as he hummed his response, gloved hand making it’s way from your waist to tuck an errant piece of hair behind your ear. Somehow you doubted that it was your words he was lost to now.

“I would be happy to tell you all about it over dinner.”

He was asking you on a date.

He was asking you on a date.

No, no, no.

His hand is on your waist and in your hair and he’s asking you to dinner. How had you let it get this far? 

This was the opposite of distance. This was bad. This was a nightmare. 

“I--” The words momentarily failed you as you recoiled from his soft touch. Far too soft.

“--I don’t get involved with men from the club.”

The words are forced but practiced and true from many years of repeating them under less compelling circumstances. But that didn’t stop the slight tremble hung in the spaces between them. It gave you away and he knew it.

“The first time you told me that I almost believed you.” Silco’s eyes examined you more like an artifact than someone he was asking out on a date. Cooly, methodically, in a way that made you feel naked and not by choice. Seen in all the ways you were afraid to be seen. In all the ways you were afraid to see yourself. 

But certainly he couldn’t--

That predatory stare and unwavering focus made you not so sure. So much for the idea of him sparing you this topic. 

“I see now it’s a protection instead of principle.” He approached slowly, leaving you plenty of time to get away if you weren’t glued to the spot. Somehow transfixed by him.

Stopping but a breath away his eyes washed over you again with interest/intrigue. Silco reached a gloved finger to caress your face, igniting something within you and rekindling your voice.

“Who says it can’t be both?” you challenge, catching his hand gently. Not nearly as harsh as he had been when you had done the exact same thing the evening before, but you hoped he appreciates the irony.

A smirk pulled at his handsome features. You can tell he’s killed for less, but whatever this is survives off you pushing your luck with him.

“And what would you need protection from?”

“Oh, Cyrano--Clever men with witty words who would distract me from dancing for their own…interests.” Your sickly sweet delivery paired with the knife hidden in your smile had the exact desired effect. Silco chuckled lightly and balance was restored. Cat and mouse once again.

“Forgive me. I hate to distract such an artist.” Silco’s eyes lingered on you once more before he turned on the spot to take his leave/exit.

Don’t go. Not like this. ….

“Still interested in an encore?” You heard yourself asking before you could even understand why.

Silco’s tall frame paused at the edge of the stage giving you just enough time to feel the full weight of your impulses.

Whatever game this was, it was time to check the score. Last night you had won, publicly. Privately you had lost more ground than you could possibly own up to but that was your little secret. But today…

Today you didn’t want this to end and were willing to call it a draw, even if only to have those mismatched eyes on your body appraising your movements for just a few moments longer.

Silco turned to face you, his features a light with subdued intrigue.

“By all means.”

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Ok, I'll be honest--I hated this chapter which is why it's taken me so long to get it out here! BUT I've decided to move forward with the story and let this be different than I imagined it so I can get some of the moments I'm really excited about next chapter! So if you didn't like this one, hang on because next time things are getting REAL!

Also, just thank you to anyone who reads my blabbering. Really, thank you.