#Black Basalt Cobblestone

[somethingclevermahogony]

WIP Tour Tag!

Finally getting to this! Thank y'all for the tags @paeliae-occasionally, @illarian-rambling, @willtheweaver, and @topazadine!

For the sake of simplicity I'll be showing you around a single city, the Grand City by the Lake, Labisa.

(There is a 99.9999 chance that I missed at least one typo, please be forgiving haha)

Stop 1: The Serpent Road

You find yourself walking down a worn and dusty road, one which stretches far behind you, curling serpent-like through the forested hills, as well as farms and villages, eventually vanishing into the looming Red Cedar Mountains. At first glance you may believe it to be little more than a wide dirt path, but as you look closer you can see the faint outlines of cobblestones, laid in times long forgotten, their surfaces sanded down by centuries of feet, hooves, and wagon wheels. Other travellers surround you, many dressed in strange clothing, some are Kishite some come from far more distant lands. They have come to partake in the Festival of Humbalibal, Goddess of the Mountains. Performers draped in the skins of leopards and boars, dancers bedecked with bells and ribbons, and poets bearing harps and drums ply their trade. Over the excited chatter, they sing of great heroes and tragedies, of beautiful Hiru and sorrowful Lat. Through the people, on either side of you are steles, dozens of them, some as small as a child, others as large as a house, pillars of stone their surfaces carved and chiselled with decrees of kings and queens, living and dead. Gods and beasts glare down at you as you pass beneath their stony gaze. Woe the Thief, Woe the Murderer, Woe the Traitor they seem to whisper. Or perhaps the whispers come from the lips of the heads, their eyes plucked by birds, cheeks sunken, skewered upon the poles of pine wood which line the roadside, their crimes scrawled in black coal upon their foreheads. To your left glittering under the mid-day sun is Lake Shebali, its massive expanse seems to swallow the horizon. White-feathered shorebirds stalk black sand beaches and weave amongst reeds. Ships bob lazily at the docks, grandest among them is the royal barge, a floating palace, its two masts extend high into the air like two massive trees. Beyond the docks you can see the fishing village, humble buildings of mud and timber, racks where fish dry, and leather cures. Children run between the houses whooping and crying, waving sticks and dolls of hair and cloth above their heads. Neither you, nor your fellow travellers have the time to ponder as to their games.

Stop 2: The Outer Walls of Labisa: The Black Walls of Tamel and the Serpent Gate

This rural scene does not hold your attention for long, for now you have reached the walls of Labisa. They tower above you, their stony surface rising 70 ft, and almost as thick, each one of the tens of thousands of blocks is the size of a horse. The lowest stones are made from black basalt, dragged from the looming mountains. Above these are yellow limestone, the surface of the stones each lovingly carved with scenes of animals, forests, battles, gods, and spirits, most so worn by the ravages of time that are all but incomprehensible. One could spend a lifetime inspecting all the images. The upper most layer and the towers placed at regular intervals are made from snowy marble. Long ago these walls had been built by the demigods Tamel, Sadaric, and Mikrab alongside thousands of workers and artisans. These walls had been made to withstand all enemies from armies to dragons. No tree or shrub grows against the imposing stone, nature kept at bay by fire and bronze. Before you, rearing high above, are two gargantuan stone serpents, one is crooked, its snarling face cracked. Any of the excitable travellers will tell you that the story goes that it was Narul that cast down the serpent while fleeing from the city with the fugitive princess Ninma. How any one person could do this, you do not know. But now is not the time chat, you are approaching the gates. Doors of thick cedar, 30 ft tall, freshly painted, as blue as the sky, bolts, and rivets of bronze glimmering in the sun. Guards stand on either side, inspecting the wagons and carts as they pass through. They wear armor of bronze, scaled like dragonskin. Their tall helms are bedecked with red feathers. In their hands are gripped spears, shields of bronze and oak hang from their backs. They stand stern and proud, these are not the men of Hutbari, untrained and inattentive, these men serve Akard, King of Kings. As you reach the gates they look you over. After a thorough but quick glance, they beckon you inside.

Stop 3: The Grand Square and The Tomb of Tamel

You enter a grand square, larger than most villages. Tents and makeshift ovens have been placed around the square to feed the hungry people. Honey cakes, stretched flatbreads, snails, sausages, olives, wine, beer, fried fish, fruits, nuts, fried dough, cups of stewed beans, dozens of different choices, each with a hungry crowd jostling for the next spot in line. The smell of fried foods hangs heavy in the air. Surrounding the square are buildings, many are beer halls from which sounds of laughter and twangs of harps emanate. Still others are brothels, men and women hang from windows cooing and calling to passers-by.

Musicians blow on flutes and pound at drums, while men dressed in naught by ram's skin, their faces and bodies painted, dance their arms raised above their heads, their eyes rolling in their heads as if in a trance. Sages awe children and terrify adults with streams of fire and crackling electricity which arcs from their fingertips. Exotic animals pace in cages under the curious eyes of Kishite children. If you look closely among the crowd, you may notice hillfolk, short and broad, their thick fur and long arms easily distinguishing them from their human neighbors, or perhaps you might see the amethyst hair of an Ikopeshi, or rarer yet the great winged form of a kiriki, their feline bodies draped with beads of amber and bone.

Laborers are hard at work, constructing a massive stage at the center of the square, here is where priests from the Temple of Humbalibal will perform odes and songs in honor of the goddess. But it was what lies beyond that catches your attention. At first you assume you must be hallucinating, for it seems that somehow a mountain has sprung up here in the middle of a city, complete with lush forests and trilling birds. As you draw near, you can see marble steps among the greenery leading up to the summit, three hundred feet above you.

This is the Tomb of Tamel, built to house the bones of the founder of the city. What appears now as a massive mountain, is in actuality a tiered structure, composed of thousands of stones, concealing a burial chamber within. As is the tradition of the Kishites, the tomb has been covered by soil and planted with a lush garden, fed by manmade rivers, the water drawn up from underground sources. Entire orchards of fruit trees inhabit each rounded tier. Tamel alone has been given the honor of being buried in the city, the tombs of his successors dot a nearby mesa. While magnificent in their own right, none can match the grandeur of this tomb. Kishites pour bowls of crimson wine at the tomb's base, libations in dedication to the spirits said to guard the dead king's bones. A man approaches you, offering you a bowl for a small fee. However, as the crowd grows you are quickly forced to continue on with your exploration of the city.

Stop 4: The Temple of Humbalibal

The city is marked by three hills, aside from Tamel's Tomb. The first of these, which stands opposite to the square, is the Temple District. As you walk up with stone steps, statues of many armed gods and animalistic spirits dance on either side of you, freshly painted with vibrant shades of red, green, yellow, and blue. Dozens of temples flank the steps, some little more than huts, others grand structures of stone and wood. The smell of burning incense combines with the aroma of sacrificial fires and of the city below. The greatest temple lies before you, dedicated to the patron of the city, Humbalibal. The red doors are swung open to allow all entrance. Priests and priestesses, devotees of the Mountain Goddess, go about their work, some tending to the statues, others kneel, their heads bowed in reverence, hands raised with palms flat in silent prayer to the watching divinities. Their white robes swish as they walk, their horned headdresses click and rattle as they walk, adorned with pins in the shape of poppies. Also, among them are many of the city’s sages. They are recognizable by the ivory circlets rested upon their brows, traditionally sourced from the dwindling Kishite elephants of the southern cedar forests, though increasingly, the city’s ivory supply is reliant on the elephants of Namut.

The great statue of Humbalibal, sits within the eastern alcove. As with the other various statues and reliefs that fill the great altar room, Humbalibal is painted with garish colors, her skin the color of ice, her nude form draped in iridescent dragon skin. The muscles and veins in her four powerful arms have been carved with loving detail, as have been the curling ram horns which sprout from her jet hair. Her silvery eyes, creased with the cold fury of the avalanche, look down at the mortals milling around her feet. Opposite her in another alcove sits a simple wooden throne, it is from here that the king of the city listens to the concerns of his people. Between the throne and Humbalibal, sits the grand altar where sacrifices to the goddess are made. The flame there has burnt, uninterrupted since the days of Tamel. At that moment another one of the temple doors is opened and six cattle, five geese, four sheep, three pigs, two gazelles, and a lioness are guided into the temple, flanked by priestesses wielding knives of cruel obsidian. Rather than sticking around to see the sacrifices, you decide to travel on to the next part of the city.

Stop 5: The Markets

You descend one of the other staircases, winding back down into the city proper. You can see ships approaching on Lake Shebali, carrying yet more visitors to the already crowded city. To the north, hugging the Black Wall, you can see the so-called Lower City, named for its elevation rather than its position on the map. It is marked by many small, cramped hovels of mudbrick and straw, interconnected through various doors and halls to form a sort of hive. There is no such thing as a private home in the Lower City. A man could walk from one end of the district to the other without ever stepping onto the street. Peasants lie on their roofs, chatting, trading, and playing games of dice. There are fewer travellers there, for it is there the city's poorest live. There are no statues, the beer halls are puny, and the shops ill-supplied. Yet cramped and humbled as the lower city may be, you have heard stories of how it once looked under the reign of the previous king, Hutbari, crumbling and filthy. Under the reign of King Akard, no longer do children pick through piles of rubbish, no longer do disease and fleas run rampant, nowhere else in the city are the praises to Akard sang so loudly.

In front of you, to the south, can see the palatial hill, rearing high above the city, the Blue Walls, those that separate the hill and the palatial olive grove from the rest of the city. You decide to head in that direction to see the Palace for yourself, but first you must pass through the Market Districts. Called the 26 Streets, these form the economic and production backbone of the city. The streets are as follows: The Potter's Street, The Perfumer's Street, The Weaver's Street, The Butcher's Street, The Slaver's Street, The Bronzesmith's Street, The Coppersmith’s Street, The Carver's Street, the Brewer's Street, The Vintner's Street, The Jeweller's Street, The Plantbrew's Street, The Scribe's Street, the Ropemaker's Street, The Tanner's Street, The Spicer's Street, The Painter's Street, The Dyer's Street, The Stonemason's Street, The Fishmonger's Street, The Carpenter's Street, The Basket weaver’s Street, The Papermaker's Street, The Musicians’ Street, The Farmer’s Street, and the Candlemaker’s Street. Your path through towards the castle will take you through the first three: Potter's, Perfumer's, and Weaver's. You start with the Weaver's Street.

As with the Square, the market streets are bustling, crowds of people, mostly visitors, rush to gawk at and purchase bits and pieces of Labisian clothing. Garments of silk, linen, and wool of every color are waved by enthusiastic shop owners and hawkers seated in front of the flat-topped brick and wood buildings that function as store, workshop, and home. The shops are colourfully painted with blues, reds, and greens, in the hopes that their bright tones will draw in curious patrons. The pungent smell of dye lays over the distract like a blanket and the squeals and clicks of the looms and wheels fight to be heard over the many chattering voices.

You may have heard of the state of these streets thirteen years ago, when Hutbari and before him, his predecessors reigned. Then mounds of various kinds of filth had formed stinking barriers along the road. Human muck had clogged the streets, bodies of livestock, broken pottery, and every other imaginable pollutant rendering the market district and the surrounding city a stinking cesspit of disease. There were and are tunnels beneath the city, meant to carry waste out of the city. But these had been neglected for years, with monarch after monarch failing to delegate the duties of their upkeep. Upon taking the throne Akard and his new court had undergone a disgusting and arduous quest to see that the tunnels were returned to their former functionality, and the grime removed from the city. This was later derisively called, The Shit War. Methane gas, collapsed tunnels, and dark things living below the city made the endeavour a nightmare, one which claimed the lives of many guards and even a nobleman or two. And yet after 3 long years of constant work, the city was cleaner than it had been in the last 90 years.

This is not to say that the city is in anyway perfect. As you pass into the Perfumer's district The smell of dye is quickly overwhelmed by a headache-inducing melange of fragrances. Jugs and bottles of dozens of sizes, from the size of a child’s palm to the height of a grown man, line the street, images have been painted on their surface to advertise their contents. Perfume is of immense importance throughout the lands of the Green Sea, but especially in Kishetal. No person leaves their home without first scenting themselves, slaves are typically the only exception. Indeed, among some peoples like the Makurians and the Korithians, the Kishite people were thought of as feminine for their love of perfume, adornment, and their extravagant bathing practices, even the presence of public toilets was at times considered to be unduly opulent. As you look at the various decorated perfume bottles, a thought occurs to you. You recognize visitors from Korithia, Shabala, Makur, Ikopesh, Knosh, and beyond, but there is a group that is missing. Despite being one of the largest and most wealthy kingdoms you see no one from Apuna. Perhaps it’s not surprising, after all Labisa is currently war with Apuna.

At least that is what you think at first, until you look closer. There are Apunians here, slaves. They follow behind Kishite masters or else can be seen cleaning the streets and do other kinds of menial labor. Many are missing eyes, a hand, a thumb, or other parts. Kishite Palaces have a long and proud tradition of mutilation when it comes to their prisoners of war. You quickly avert your attention, but it lands on something else, the figure of a woman, sat in an alley, her knees tucked beneath her chin, her eyes hooded. At first you assume she is a beggar, though thus far they have been a rarity in this city, until you see the pustules. Her face and arms are covered in hundreds of angry red swellings, her teeth are chattering, her eyes vacant. Disease is an inescapable reality of living in a city, particularly one as massive as this. There are no hospitals or hospices, and in favor of the festival most of the temples have temporarily banished those being cared for there. And so, the ill gather here in the Perfume District, where the sweet smells may in some way cover the smell of pestilence.

In recent years Pyrian Fever become an increasingly dire problem throughout the domain of Akard. Though Kishites may not know what bacteria or viruses are, they have managed to identify where this particular outbreak originated from. As is often the case, war is a flashpoint for plague. Some of the same prisoner's war and slaves, you had previously noticed, brought the deadly disease with them. Now every slave is inspected for any signs of disease, but it is too late, they sickness is already here. You notice the plantbrews, medicine women, marching up and down the street, tending to the sick who huddle in alleys and under doorways. Some of the treatments seem to be working, certainly the disease seems less virulent than it has been in the past. Even still, you take note of the warnings scrawled on wooden boards. " Enun Nadolul Na Lumiga" "Do not touch the sick." You quickly decide to move on from the perfume district.

Soon enough the smell of rose and cinnamon declines, replaced by the earthy scent of clay and the sharp tang of kiln smoke. Potters line the streets, hawking their wares, hands stained with the rich red brown of freshly fired earth ang glaze. From tiny, ornate perfume bottles to massive pithoi, many of which you recognize from the previous district. The pots, jugs, and jars are adorned with intricate designs, some depicting scenes of daily life, others abstract patterns that seemed to dance around the curves of the vessels, still others are unglazed, fiery orange or ashy grey. A group of Korithians, immediately recognizable by their short colourful kilts and their long-braided hair, are gathered around one such shop, gawking at the erotic imagery that adorns those particular bowls and plates. You stop to look for yourself, though you quickly find that the going price is far too high for your tastes.

As you leave the Market Districts and approach the Palatial Hill, you enter the area where many of the richer families dwell, minor nobility, and wealthy merchants. Here too are the grand estates were visiting dignitaries stay. Buildings of stone and cedar wood, one, two or even three stories tall. Their surfaces painted and carved with stylized frescos of nature and festivity, curling palms, and leaping gazelles alongside bell-adorned dancers.

Kishite nobles, lounging in front of their homes, sipping wine, and eating dates and olives can be seen dressed in expensive clothing, their hair bedecked with many beads, ribbons, and rings, their necks and wrists choked with chains, collars, and baubles. Their robes are made from silk and soft linen, purple, red, and saffron yellow, their hair and beards are slicked with scented perfumes. Some wear capes and cloaks of lion and leopard fur.

The Kiriki Gates now stand before you.

Stop 6: The Palatial Hill

The Blue Wall separates the Palatial Hill from the rest of the city, while considerably smaller than the Black Wall, at only 32ft in height, it is no less magnificent. The wall itself is made from limestone. Unlike the carved surface of the Black Wall, the stones of the Blue Wall have been sanded and smoothed until it almost seems to sparkle in the afternoon sun. Even the cracks and gaps between the stones have been filled in to create a uniform surface. It is named for the upper most layer of stones, each one painted with a mixture of cobalt and copper to produce a vibrant blue. The only break is the Kiriki Gate, named for the two massive guardians which stand at either side, stone statues of Kiriki, each larger than an elephant. Kiriki are bull-horned and winged lions with the human-like faces. They are culture is secretive, their language indecipherable to most humans, yet they are seen on occasion, you had even seen earlier at this very festival.

While the statues are immobile, the same cannot be said of the guards, eight of the, standing on either side of the open cedar doors. They carry spears and axes, and massive shields in the shape of hourglasses. As you approach one of the guard's holds out his hand. You place a small tablet, no larger than a postage stamp in his palm. Carved on its surface in miniscule writing is a number of Kishite glyphs. This tablet acts as your permission to enter the palatial grounds. After a minute he nods and steps back. He does not return the tablet, this particular privilege is only being afforded, once.

You walk through the gates, head respectfully bowed. It is as if you had just been transported miles away to the countryside. An olive grove stands around you, gnarled trunks twisting and turning. Many of these trees have been here for hundreds of years since the time of Tamel and his children. Currently the workers and caretakers are lounging by ponds and pools, a handful are pruning and attending to the trees, but overall, with the harvest still being months away, the Palatial Olive Grove is tranquil. A few of the laborers wave as you pass by. Stags, gazelle, pheasants, and other peaceful creatures roam through the rows of trees, their presence meant to simulate a rural farm or hillside orchard. A gazelle approaches you, hoping for handouts, upon finding none it goes back to nibbling at the grass.

You spot a small stone shrine tucked among one particularly thick grouping of olive trees, you are not sure which god it is meant to honor, for there are no markings on the alter. Before the shrine is a ring of stones placed on the ground. You immediately recognize this structure as one of those in which Kishite dead are placed, allowing their flesh to be reclaimed by nature before their bones are buried or placed in tombs. However, this particular ring has never held a corpse, rather this ring is used as part of the naming ceremony performed on Noble Kishite children upon reaching the age of 4. The child is made to sleep here, and upon awakening, they symbolically rise up from their "old life".

Beyond the olive grove you enter an area filled with fig, pomegranate, regalu, and quince trees. You even spot a peach tree, still a rarity this far west. Myrtle and laurel trees also make an appearance, their trunks seemingly wrapped in grape vines. The fragrance of these trees mingles with the dry scent of earth and old wood. A few more workers, dressed in simple linen wraps, tend to the trees, and prune the vines, their movements slow and deliberate.

You spot a number of terraces built into the hill side; great blocks of limestone topped with soil. Here is where the king's plantbrews grow their stock, exotic berries, tubers, and flowers.

The ground is crisscrossed by stone pathways, like the one that you are walking on, however it seems that most of the laborers choose to ignore these, instead walking over grass and roots.

The White Wall waits before you.

Stop 7: The Palace

The last and smallest of Labisa's three great walls, at only 24ft is The White Wall, which separates the palatial complex from the rest of the hill. In similar fashion to the Black Wall, the White Wall is made from massive blocks of stone rather than many smaller bricks like the Blue Wall, the lintel above the king's gate is the single heaviest stone in all three of the walls, at nearly 20 tons. The White Wall is the only one with stones that were not quarried in Kishetal, rather its stones were sourced from the original homeland of Tamel and his followers, Shabala. Each massive stone was transported by ship, barge, and finally by rope and manpower over hundreds of miles to the top of the hill, thus while the wall itself may be the smallest, its construction was arguably the most expensive. At first glance you might be confused as to why it is called the White Wall, the stone used is a pale grey, distinctly not white. The name comes from a thin layer of marble tiles that once covered the entirety of the wall, placed there by Tamel the Second, the last monarch of his namesake's line and the last king of a united Kishite kingdom. The tiles cut from the ruins of Arkodian temples, their capture viewed as the symbolic end of the war that had ravaged both Kishetal and Arkodai for decades, the single most destructive war in the recorded history of the Green Sea.

The tiles were stuck to the walls, with the plans for the white marble to be painted not only with images of the valiant heroes of Kishetal, but also those of Arkodai, their faces meant to stand guard over the palace as a memorial of the terrible war. After the last of the tiles had been placed but before the first of the paint could be applied, Tamel the Second was assassinated by his own son, Kerim. United Kishetal died with Tamel. Kerim cancelled the plans to paint the walls.

After Kerim was himself, killed by his younger brother, Farut, the tiles were taken ripped down and instead used to decorate the tomb of Tamel the Second. If one were to venture to the mesa where the royal tombs sit, the tomb of Tamel the Second would be easily identifiable by the snowy white Arkodian marble which still peaks from under the greenery.

The King's Gate is surprisingly plain, there are no great guardians looking over you as you pass under the massive lintel. The eyes of the guards burn into you as you pass, though they do not stop you.

The main palace along with the other palatial buildings function as a miniature city of sorts. The royal residence, a temple, storage buildings, a smithy, a pottery workshop, several workshops reserved for the palace weavers, two different sets of kitchens (and several massive outdoor ovens), the slave quarters, the bathhouse, and the stables are all contained within the White Wall, forming a large palatial citadel dotted with oleander, chestnut, and beech trees. The nobility and their guests who visit palace bathed in the grand bathhouse which stands directly beside the palace, constructed from polished granite, built atop an ancient spring, its interior is decorated with exotic plants and birds, carvings of dancing gods and heroes adorn the walls, and steam curls constantly from its high-set windows. Three similar though decidedly less extravagant baths can be found in the lower city, open to the people of Labisa. The palatial slaves make do with a large pond which lay at the edge of the courtyard.

The palace stands like a fortress atop the rugged hill, its thick stone walls towering above, as imposing as the demigod Tamel the First, who both ordered and assisted in its construction. Built from massive limestone blocks and mudbrick, it seems to have risen from the earth itself, sturdy and timeless. At six stories tall, it is the highest structure in all Labisa, save for the Tomb of Tamel. The outer walls are fortified with battlements and defensive towers, making the palace not just a seat of power but a stronghold overseeing the sprawling city below. Black soot still scars the walls, a grim reminder of Barunaki's brutal raid during Akard’s coup, when soldiers snuck in, murdered Hutbari’s children, and accidentally set the ancient structure ablaze. Only heroic effort saved the palace from complete destruction.

As you pass through the massive stone gate, you enter beneath an arch adorned with reliefs of lions, leopards, and horned men. Inside, the vast central courtyard opens before you, its stone floors smooth from centuries of footsteps. This space, often the site of ceremonies and rituals, is now empty—the king is far to the south. Yet, the palace is far from abandoned; at least two hundred nobles, along with their servants and slaves, occupy its thousand rooms, overseeing its care and performing sacred rites.

The halls are vast and labyrinthine, easy to get lost in. The lofty ceilings are supported by cedar beams and painted columns, every surface intricately adorned. Walls, pillars, ceilings, and even floors are decorated with colorful cloth, carvings, and frescoes. The murals depict royal processions, epic battles, dragons, divine figures, and tales from the Age of Glass and Metal, drawn from "Ti Jali Chasma," the Great History. You pause to admire a fantastical depiction of an ancient city, its twisting, impossibly shaped buildings a testament to the imagination of the artisans. Peeking into some rooms, you find many to be storage spaces, filled with pithoi and vessels holding oil and grain. One door nearly costs you your head, as the Chief of Wine glares at you with a spear in hand, clearly protective of his charge. Hastily, you move on, climbing stone stairs worn smooth from use, the center dipped from countless feet. Banquet halls line the next level, each filled with ornately carved furniture inlaid with pearl and ivory. Large hearths and massive braziers warm the rooms, the scent of smoke and wood blending with resin, stale perfumes, and the earthy smell of stone. Light filters through narrow windows, casting sharp contrasts of shadow and brightness across the floors. As you ascend further, you pass thick wooden doors fitted with bronze, marking private chambers—most are closed, and you wisely choose not to linger. The throne room is at the heart of the palace, both intimate and imposing. A raised platform holds a richly adorned stone throne, carved from black rock streaked with gold. Frescoes and tapestries line the walls, depicting heroic figures battling savage beasts. High above, barely visible, are the words of long-dead kings carved into the ceiling, some written in dialects so ancient only a handful of scholars can decipher them. At the back of the room are doors leading to upper floors, reserved for the royal family and palace sages. As you approach, a guard blocks your path, his stern expression and sharp spear making it clear that your tour ends here. As you leave the palace, the painted eyes follow you. Descending the palatial hill along with stern guard, you are guided back towards the bustling city. Somehow in your brief time away, the streets have become even more hectic, alive with color and activity. With the festival’s opening drawing near, you ponder your options for the time being. You could choose to explore the vibrant market districts, engage with the locals, or simply enjoy the lively atmosphere, the city offers a myriad of experiences. Perhaps if you can find a good beerhall or city corner, you may just be able to hear one of the many tales of Princess Ninma and the giant Narul. Regardless, the festival promises to be a grand affair, the likes of which no other city in the region can match.

I hope that you enjoyed your tour!

Tagging @kaylinalexanderbooks, @melpomene-grey, @mk-writes-stuff, @elizaellwrites, @unrepentantcheeseaddict

Also gonna go ahead and leave this one open

@patternwelded-quill, @persnickety-peahen

@elsie-writes, @the-ellia-west, @the-octic-scribe, @the-golden-comet

@finickyfelix, @theprissythumbelina, @autism-purgatory, @diabolical-blue , @tildeathiwillwrite

@katenewmanwrites, @leahnardo-da-veggie

@drchenquill, @marlowethelibrarian, @phoenixradiant, @pluttskutt

@dyrewrites, @roach-pizza, @rivenantiqnerd, @pluppsauthor

@flaneurarbiter, @dezerex, @axl-ul, @surroundedbypearls

@treesandwords, @skyderman

[minecraftblockbrawl]

After a long wait, Minecraft Block Brawl is ready to begin!

The polls will start Thursday, June 15 at noon EST. May the best block win!

Side 1 (June 15)

Acacia Wood vs Air

Amethyst Block vs Barrier

Bedrock vs Birch

Calcite vs Cherry Leaves

Cherry Planks vs Chiseled Sandstone

Chiseled Red Sandstone vs Crafting Table

Crimson Stem/Hyphae vs Crying Obsidian

Dark Oak Planks vs Dark Prismarine

Deepslate Gold Ore vs Deepslate Tiles

Diorite vs Enchantment/Enchanting Table

Falling Sand vs Fletching Table

Flowering Azalea Leaves vs Grass Black

Ice vs Light Blue Stained Glass

Mangrove Planks vs Magenta Glazed Terracotta

Lava vs Moss Block

Mossy Cobblestone vs Mushroom Stem

Side 2 (June 29)

Light Grey Glazed Terracotta vs Mud Brick

Mycelium vs Note Block

Oak Plank vs Obsidian

Orange Glazed Terracotta vs Oxidized Copper

Pearlescent Froglight vs Petrified Slab

Pink Concrete vs Polished Basalt

Powdered Snow vs Purpur

Red Mushroom Block vs Quartz Block

Spruce Log vs Soul Soil

Stone vs Stone Brick

Tinted Glass vs Stripped Warped Stem/Hyphae

Warped Stem/Hyphae vs Exposed Cut Copper Stair

Red Sand vs Sculk Block

White Glazed Terracotta vs White Concrete Powder

Shroomlight vs Slime

Smooth Quartz Block vs Raw Copper Block

[jkstones123]

Choosing the Right Cobblestones for Driveways: A Complete Guide

When it comes to designing a beautiful and durable driveway, nothing quite matches the charm and longevity of cobblestones. These natural stone pavers have been used for centuries in roadways and driveways, offering a timeless look that enhances curb appeal while providing practical durability. However, selecting the right cobblestones for driveways can be a bit challenging, especially with the wide variety of options available in the market.

In this guide, we will walk you through everything you need to know about choosing the perfect cobblestones for driveways, from the types of materials available to installation tips and maintenance advice. By the end, you’ll be well-equipped to make an informed decision for your driveway project.

1. Why Choose Cobblestones for Driveways?

Before we dive into the selection process, let’s first discuss why cobblestones for driveways are a popular choice among homeowners.

Durability: Cobblestones are made from natural stone, typically granite, limestone, or basalt, making them incredibly durable and long-lasting. They can withstand heavy traffic, extreme weather, and require minimal maintenance over time.

Aesthetic Appeal: Cobblestones provide a rustic, old-world charm that adds sophistication to any driveway. Their unique shapes and natural color variations create a visually pleasing surface that enhances the overall look of your property.

Sustainability: Because they are made from natural stone, cobblestones are an eco-friendly choice. They can be reused and repurposed, making them a sustainable option for homeowners looking to reduce their environmental footprint.

Low Maintenance: Once installed, cobblestones require very little upkeep. They are resistant to cracking, chipping, and staining, meaning your driveway will look great for years without constant repairs.

2. Types of Cobblestones for Driveways

When selecting cobblestones for driveways, it’s essential to understand the different types of materials available. Each type has its unique qualities, so choosing the right one depends on your specific needs and preferences.

Granite Cobblestones: Granite is one of the most popular choices for cobblestones due to its incredible strength and resistance to wear. It is ideal for high-traffic areas, making it perfect for driveways. Granite cobblestones also come in a variety of colors, including grey, pink, and black, allowing for versatile design options.

Basalt Cobblestones: Known for its dark and rich color, basalt is another durable option for driveways. Its smooth texture and uniform appearance make it a modern choice for those looking to create a sleek and contemporary look.

Limestone Cobblestones: Limestone is a softer stone compared to granite and basalt, but it still offers excellent durability. Limestone cobblestones often come in lighter shades like beige and cream, giving driveways a softer, more elegant appearance.

Sandstone Cobblestones: Sandstone offers a more rustic and textured look. It is often used in traditional or countryside homes. Although it is less durable than granite, sandstone can still withstand regular driveway use and offers beautiful natural patterns.

3. Size and Shape Considerations

Cobblestones come in various sizes and shapes, and the right choice will depend on the design you have in mind for your driveway.

Large Cobblestones: Larger cobblestones provide a more traditional and rugged look. They are also faster to install due to their size but may require a more robust foundation to ensure they stay in place.

Small Cobblestones: Smaller cobblestones give a more refined and detailed appearance. They are perfect for intricate designs or curved driveways where precision is key. However, they may take longer to install compared to larger stones.

Square and Rectangular Cobblestones: These shapes are ideal for creating a uniform, structured look. They are easier to install and provide a neat, organized pattern.

Irregular or Tumbled Cobblestones: For a more natural, organic look, irregular or tumbled cobblestones are the way to go. They offer a rustic aesthetic with varied shapes and sizes, perfect for those looking for a more relaxed and informal driveway design.

4. Installation Tips for Cobblestones for Driveways

Once you’ve selected the material, size, and shape of your cobblestones for driveways, the next step is proper installation. Proper installation ensures the durability and longevity of your driveway.

Base Preparation: The first step in installing cobblestones is to prepare the base. This involves digging out the existing surface to a depth of about 8-12 inches, depending on the weight the driveway will bear. A solid base layer of compacted gravel or crushed stone should be laid to provide stability and drainage.

Edge Restraints: Installing edge restraints is crucial to keep the cobblestones from shifting over time. These can be made from metal, plastic, or concrete and should be installed along the perimeter of the driveway.

Laying the Cobblestones: Cobblestones should be laid out in the desired pattern, starting from one corner and working your way outwards. You can choose from various patterns, including herringbone, running bond, or random patterns, depending on the look you want to achieve.

Joint Filling: Once the cobblestones are in place, fill the gaps between them with sand or a specialized joint filler to lock them in place. This prevents the stones from shifting and ensures a smooth surface.

Compacting: After filling the joints, use a compactor to press the stones firmly into place. This step is essential to prevent future movement and ensure the stones are tightly packed.

5. Maintenance of Cobblestones for Driveways

Although cobblestones for driveways are known for their low maintenance, a few simple practices will ensure they remain in excellent condition for years to come.

Regular Cleaning: Sweep or hose down your cobblestone driveway regularly to remove dirt, debris, and organic matter. This prevents the buildup of moss and algae, which can make the stones slippery.

Weed Control: Over time, weeds may grow between the joints of the cobblestones. To prevent this, apply a weed killer or lay weed-proof fabric under the base during installation.

Resealing: Some types of cobblestones, like sandstone or limestone, may benefit from periodic sealing to protect them from water damage and stains. Sealing also enhances the color and appearance of the stones.

Conclusion

Choosing the right cobblestones for driveways can make a significant difference in the overall look and functionality of your property. From the type of material to the size and shape of the stones, there are many factors to consider when planning your cobblestone driveway. By understanding the options available and following best practices for installation and maintenance, you can create a stunning, durable driveway that will stand the test of time.

Whether you’re looking for a traditional, rustic appearance or a sleek, modern finish, cobblestones offer a versatile solution that combines beauty and practicality. With the right selection and care, your cobblestone driveway will not only enhance your home’s curb appeal but also provide years of reliable service

[paveworld]

best traditional paving in uk

In the realm of landscape design and urban planning, the choice of paving materials plays a pivotal role in defining the character and aesthetic appeal of outdoor spaces. Amidst the myriad of contemporary options available, best traditional paving in uk stand out as timeless treasures that have adorned pathways, streets, and plazas for centuries. In this exploration, we delve into the enduring charm and practical benefits of best traditional paving, shedding light on why they remain a preferred choice for architects, designers, and enthusiasts in the modern era.

traditional paving slabs in uk, also known as cobblestones or setts, boast a rich history dating back to ancient times. The Romans, renowned for their engineering prowess, were among the first to use cobbled streets in their expansive empire. These early examples paved the way for a legacy that transcended civilizations, with medieval Europe, Asia, and other parts of the world adopting this durable and visually appealing method of surfacing roads and public spaces.

One of the most striking features of top traditional paving in uk is the craftsmanship and artistry involved in their creation. Craftsmen meticulously shape natural stones, such as granite, basalt, or limestone, into uniform blocks of various sizes. The resulting geometric precision not only adds to the aesthetic appeal but also contributes to the stones' practical functionality in creating a stable and durable surface.

Pavement design plays a pivotal role in shaping the aesthetics of outdoor spaces, transforming them into inviting havens of beauty and functionality. Among the myriad of choices available, three standouts in the world are rainbow sandstone paving, granite, and limestone. These natural stones not only lend a timeless elegance to any setting but also boast durability and versatility. Paveworld, a leading name in the landscaping industry, offers a captivating range of sandstone cobbles, granite, and limestone paving options, each with its unique charm and characteristics.

ivory sandstone paving, renowned for its rich color palette and varied textures, has been a favorite choice for paving for centuries. Its warm, earthy tones range from subtle beige and buff to vibrant reds and browns, allowing for a seamless integration into diverse landscapes. Paveworld's collection of light grey natural sandstone showcases the stone's innate beauty, with options like Camel Dust, Modak Rose, and Raj Green.

One of the standout features of sandstone wall cladding is its natural veining and riven surface, providing a unique, rustic appearance. The stone's ability to weather gracefully over time adds character to outdoor spaces. Whether used in traditional paving slabs or contemporary designs, sandstone paving from Paveworld brings a touch of nature to gardens, patios, and pathways, creating a harmonious connection between the built environment and the natural world.

grey granite paving, an igneous rock known for its strength and durability, is a top choice for those seeking a combination of sophistication and robustness in their outdoor spaces. Paveworld's granite paving options, such as misty silver grey granite paving, Blue Grey, and Midnight Black, exemplify the stone's innate elegance.

Granite's uniform texture and polished surface provide a sleek, modern aesthetic, making it ideal for contemporary landscapes. Its resistance to wear and tear, as well as its ability to withstand harsh weather conditions, make it a practical choice for high-traffic areas. From sleek driveways to minimalist courtyards, granite paving slabs from Paveworld effortlessly blends form and function, creating enduring outdoor spaces that stand the test of time.

limestone slabs, a sedimentary rock formed over millions of years, exudes a timeless charm with its soft hues and natural variations. Paveworld's natural limestone paving options, including kota blue limestone, Tumbled Mint, and Antique Yellow, showcase the stone's versatility and aesthetic appeal.

limestone paving is renowned for its smooth surface and subtle color palette, which adds a touch of understated elegance to outdoor settings. Whether used in classic garden pathways or contemporary patio designs, yellow limestone paving from Paveworld offers a sense of continuity and flow. Its ability to be easily shaped and carved allows for intricate detailing, making it a versatile choice for both traditional and modern landscaping projects.

Paveworld's commitment to quality and innovation is evident in its extensive collection of sandstone, black pearl granite, and limestone paving options. These natural stone cobbles, each with its unique characteristics, offer a timeless elegance that enhances the beauty of outdoor spaces. Whether you are looking for the rustic charm of buff sandstone paving, the strength of granite, or the graceful versatility of limestone, Paveworld's range of paving solutions provides the perfect foundation for creating enduring landscapes that captivate the eye and stand the test of time.

[ourtriptoportugal]

Lisbon - Day 1

Friday 9/29

Now that we are staying in an AirBnB, we are back to making our own breakfast. The last couple of days I got spoiled. I brought 2-days worth of oatmeal to cook with us on the trip. Before we left I looked up whether I could buy Ouaker Oats in Portugal. I found a site that was selling a container of Quaker for $38. I don’t think so! I looked for it in the grocery store last night but didn’t find it. So I maybe eating something else for breakfast when my 2 day reserve runs out :-(.

It was sunny and hot today. High 80s in the afternoon and still about 80 at 9pm. It’s not bad except in the afternoon when you are in the direct sun.

Today we took a Rick Steve’s audio walking tour to get oriented to Lisbon. That took most of the day. One thing I have noticed is practically every street in Lisbon is composed of gray cobblestones and the sidewalks are paved with white limestone, regardless of whether it is a big street, or just and alley with a very narrow sidewalk. Many sidewalks and plazas have mosaic designs combining the white limestone with black basalt.

The Portuguese love salted dried cod. It is especially interesting because the cod they eat is not local, but comes from Newfoundland.

A couple of comments in cars and pedestrians. As a tourist, you would never want to have a car in Lisbon. Many of the streets are extremely narrow, there is very little parking and locals drive fast… but not aggressively. Practically no one honks their horn— which is good, and somehow the local drivers and the local pedestrians have figured out how to coexist with each other. Lisbon is a very walkable city. But as a visiting pedestrian you do need to be careful whenever you walk a where a car can drive. And sidewalks can be very narrow (eg 15”) or blocked for a variety of reasons, forcing you to walk in the street.

It is so warm in Portugal that some people hang their clothes out their window to dry. I found this building interesting and got me wondering how many women live there.

Part of waking tour resulted in us taking a funicular that went uphill (17% grade) to Bairro Alto from Restauradores Square. It’s only purpose is to move passengers up some of the steep hills of Lisbon. But this seems to be mainly a tourist attraction as the lines are fairly long. I think the locals just hike up the hill. It didn’t seem to steep to me, but I bet the white limestone sidewalks would be slippery if wet.

We ate dinner outdoors at Il Mulino. It located on Rua das Portas de Santo Antão, which is a pedestrian only street with a lot of outdoor restaurants. We chose Il Mulino based us discovering it last night and then reading Trip Advisor reviews. A local musician serenaded the restaurant patrons with Beatles songs sang in Portuguese. The food was very good and I would be surprised if we don’t go back and eat there again. I love eating outdoors!

After dinner we went to the grocery store to get tomorrow’s lunch— packaged salad. There is no fashion show in Lisbon tonight!

[hzxstone]

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Mongolia Black, it's also called Mongolian Black Basalt, granite G775 Mongolia Black is originated from Inner Mongolia province in China, it's absolute black granite. Mongolia Black Granite Slabs can be processed for granite tile, granite cobblestone, granite tombstone, and monument, paving stone, kerbstone, countertops, worktops, benchtops, sinks, cobblestones, stairs, and sisters, etc.

If you need Mongolian Black Basalt Tiles For Your exterior projects, pls freely connect HZX STONE by email to hzx@hzxco.com

[stonefooting]

ONE STOP DESTINATION FOR QUALITY NATURAL STONE-UK

We at Stone Footing, the leading wholesaler in the field of Natural Stone and believes in providing products that are appreciated for quality and finishes. Our dedicated team support brings the best quality products and services to our esteemed clients.

Connect us for business orders: 💬 : +44 7379 163920 📧 : info@stonefooting.co.uk 🌐 : www.stonefooting.co.uk

[redrobbingabank]

Losing Control

Ranboo thought he’d hacked it. He’d avoided the water. He’d stayed calm. He’d hung out with Michael and didn’t look at the prison. And slowly, slowly, he’d stopped seeing things he shouldn’t, and the voices went away. And even more slowly, he’d begun to think it would stay that way. 

Curled in a ball in Tubbo’s basement, clutching his head, Ranboo wondered how he’d ever been so stupid. 

Take the axe, they whispered. Spill his blood. The boy king must die.

“No,” he whimpered. “Get out of my head.”

We’re not in your head, the voices – Dream? – whispered. We’re you. They started chanting again. The boy king must die. The boy king must die. 

“I won’t kill him!” Ranboo cried. Despite himself, his hand began inching towards his axe of its own accord. He snatched it back like he’d been burned. The Void is hungry, Ranboo. “No…” 

Before his hand could betray him again, Ranboo leapt to his feet, abandoning his weapons where they lay. He ascended the ladder so fast that splinters dug into his hands. A confused noise came from Michael’s room when the trap door slammed shut, but Ranboo didn’t stop. He flung himself out the door and down the stairs, tearing around the corner to the soul-speed tunnel. As he flew through it, a trickle of water found its way into his armor, but he didn’t notice. He almost smashed his nose against the wall when he shot out the other side. 

The streets of the SMP were empty. No one was there to watch him run to the Nether portal, panting as reality twisted and reshaped until he was in the Hub. He ran down the cobblestone path, then leapt from basalt spike to basalt spike. When he reached the bit of netherrack that stuck out, he jumped down, ankles jolting painfully when he landed. He stood in the portal once more and used his trident to speed the rest of the way to the Commune.

Smoke rose from the chimneys. Shin deep in snow, Ranboo ran up the steps and pounded on Phil’s door. “Phil! Phil, I need help, please!”

There was no response. Ranboo called until his voice became hoarse, then slumped in front of his door. What could he do? The tank in the lab. He could go there. There was a chance it would fix everything. Tubbo would be safe if it worked ––

“Ranboo?” Techno’s deep voice caused Ranboo to jump to his feet, spinning around in panic. Tears still burned down his face. Techno stood at the door to his house, blinking like he’d just woken up. His hair was halfway undone from its usual braid. “What are you doing here? What’s wrong with your eyes?”

Ranboo swiped his sleeve across his cheeks, only succeeding in spreading the damage. “I –– it’s fine. I was looking for Phil,” he managed to get out before hiccuping.

Techno tilted his head. “Is everything alright, kid?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s fine,” Ranboo said, followed by a sniffle that directly attacked his credibility.

“Uh-huh,” Techno said slowly. “Is it… something I can help with?” 

Ranboo didn’t want to tell Techno about the voices, but even as he shrank from the idea, they whispered to him. Kill the boy king. Talking might help him keep his focus enough to maintain control. He nodded. 

“You can come in, if you want. I’ve got food” Techno said, stepping back inside and dragging an extra chair to the small table. Ranboo followed him. He sat awkwardly, fidgeting uncontrollably, crossing and uncrossing his fingers.

Techno looked at his face for a long moment, then his hands. He sighed. “Do you want to braid my hair or something?” he asked haltingly. 

“Um…” he said, throat dry. Techno had never let him braid his hair before. He’d never asked. “Sure.”

“Alright.” Techno took the hair tie out of his hair and passed it to Ranboo, combing the braid out with his fingers. He sat on the ground in front of Ranboo with his back to him. “We’re gonna need to get you some healing potion for your face, too. So what’s wrong?”

Ranboo struggled to find the words to speak, trying and failing in fits and starts. He separated Techno’s hair into three sections. “There’s, uh… I hear these… these voices? In my head? And they’re normally pretty tame, but I think I screwed it up, and they want me to do things.”

Techno had gone still. Ranboo focused desperately on weaving his hair into the braid. “What did you do?” he asked carefully. His voice was patient. 

“I sort of triggered them,” Ranboo mumbled. “There’s like, this state I go into, where I’m not me? Well, I’m me. But I’m pretty sure I’ve got all my memories and they change my perception of some things. I think I’ve done bad stuff in this state. I was triggering it, to get more control over it. Build a tolerance, you know?” He laughed sadly. “I thought I figured it out. But things started happening, hallucinations and stuff. Then I thought I fixed that, but the voices got louder. They want me to kill people ––” don’t mention Tubbo’s name “–– close to me.” 

He tied off the braid with Techno’s hair tie, and he twisted around to face him. “How long has this been happening?”

“About a week?” Ranboo said. “Then it just got… I almost lost control today, and I came here.”

“Jeez, kid, you’ve been sitting on this for a week?” Ranboo nodded awkwardly. “We could have helped you, Ranboo. Phil and I have experience with this stuff.”

Ranboo furrowed his brow. “You do?”

“Yeah! I have voices too.”

“You what?”

“Yeah. Haven’t you heard me talking to them before? ‘Blood for the blood god’? I’m not that narcissistic, kid.” Techno stood and crossed over to sit in the chair across from Ranboo. “They do the same as what you’re talking about, the whole bloodlust thing. Well, not as specific, that part’s a bit concerning, but it boils down the same. We know the gist.”

“Oh. Is there… how do I control it?”

Techno looked at him carefully. “It’s not always easy, Ranboo. If you get in a fight you might not be able to. That doesn’t bother me cause I don’t particularly care, but you’re, you know, you.” Fear filled Ranboo. His chest tightened. Techno noticed the look in his eyes, and rushed to reassure him. “No, but don’t worry, you don’t have to fight anyone if you don’t want to, Syndicate rules, remember?” Ranboo had the presence of mind to give him a look. “Sorry.

“You can control it, though. I promise. And you can keep weapons away from you when you’re around your people.” 

“How do I make it go away, though?” Ranboo asked. Tears were welling up again. Steam rose from his face as they fell.

“Woah, hey, no, that’s hurting you, calm down.” Techno went to a chest by the window. After rooting around in it for a few minutes, he came back with a clean cloth and a bottle of healing potion. “Here. For your face.”

Ranboo wet the corner of the cloth with the potion and dabbed it where his skin burned. The easing pain made him relax minutely.

“Ranboo,” Techno said gently, “the voices don’t go away. I’m sorry, but the best you and I can do is learn to keep them in check as best we can. And if I figured it out, so can you. There’s something that can help you, too. We’ll have to wait for Phil to make it, but…” he tapped the green stone inlaid in his crown. Ranboo had thought it was an emerald until he saw the black specks in it. “There’s bits of wither rose in this. It weakens the voices, gets rid of the sway on your actions. Phil knows how to make them. I think it’s part of his connection with her. Death, and all that. We’ll get one for you, too.”

Ranboo’s hand drifted unconsciously to his own crown, tracing the lapis stones in the prongs. “Okay. Thank you, Techno. Really.” 

“Don’t mention it, kid.”

[bhandarimarblekishangarh]

Stones by Bhandari Marble World.

WHY CHOOSE NATURAL STONE FROM BHANDARI MARBLE GROUP

When it comes to choosing tile for your home renovation, you face an endless number of tile shapes, sizes, patterns, styles, and colors to choose from. Here is a short guide to tile shapes to help you select the right.

BHANDARI MARBLE GROUP is supplying white and Black marble and many more color marble granite and natural stones, manufacture slabs and tiles, and marble Handicraft. Marble Slabs are available in any thickness any size length and width as per requirement. We can customize MARBLE GRANITE AND Natural Stones. A real focus on customer satisfaction, you can rely on us for your next project on stone floor tiles. We provide a professional service for private and commercial customers for stone flooring. Which includes, Supply stone tiles, cladding & slabs Installation,Maintenance & refurbishment.

Our strong relationships with our international suppliers enable us to have our products shipped directly to any location worldwide

DESIGN AND PRODUCT SELECTION

Professional advice and guidance when it comes to selecting the most suitable products, finishes and solutions from our wide range of premium natural stone tiles, cladding and slabs, ensuring you find the perfect natural stone product to suit your needs.

INSTALLATION

Installation floor tiles and finishing by a professional and specialized team. Here are a few of the recent projects we have completed for our customers. We provide a professional service. Which includes consultation, design advice, the supply of materials and installation.

As varied as the landscapes from which it is quarried, natural stone presents a wealth of choices for any living or working environment. It’s enchanting variation in color and pattern, combined with its flexibility, make it the perfect choice for walls or floors, indoors and outdoors. Both timelessly elegant and impressively durable, natural stone allows you to create your own unique blend of color, texture, shape, and mood.

Stone flooring Natural Stone We have taken pride in offering only the finest natural stone products, sourced from locations across the globe. Our vast range includes floor tiles, specialized stone wall cladding, mosaics, and finishing products such as step edges, pool coping, and listed. Our selection of Marble tile, Travertine tile, Sandstone, Granite, Limestone, Quartzite, and Slate ensure that whatever your design style, you will find the perfect natural stone product to suit the bathroom stone flooring tiles your needs. What has taken nature millions of years to create can now be yours to enjoy for generations to come.

WE TALK WITH 387 YEARS EXPERIENCE We combine quality workmanship, superior knowledge, and competitive prices to provide you with service unmatched by our competitors.

OUR PROMISE TO YOU

Natural Stone Warehouse is built on values as enduring as our products: passion, quality, and integrity. We’ve earned a reputation as a leader in product innovation and international trends. Today our commitment to excellence ensures superior customer care and knowledgeable staff who are always available to assist you in finding the perfect match for your requirements.

TILES WHICH GIVE EXOTIC TOUCH TO YOUR FLOOR

Contemporary tiles are available in a variety of colors, styles, tile sizes, and shapes, which allows you to create a truly personalized space. Tile sizes are dependent on materials and intended uses, and they have increased dramatically over the centuries. Floor and wall tiles are versatile and give you limitless choices when it comes to sizes, shapes, colors, finishes, and styles. But the success of your next tiling project depends on only on choosing the right color and style –

Stone Tile we offer one of the largest selections of natural stone and different kinds of tile products for any decoration projects you may have in mind, be it residential or industrial. Our online title store can help you find the perfect tiles and natural stone products at the best prices in the World. While it is quite easy to find a tile shop, a tile store near you, an online shop like Stone Tile can usually offer you a much better deal. The addition of our free delivery on over many thousand products and free local pickup in over 500 stone tile warehouses worldwide makes our offer to buy tile online unbeatable.

Stone tile vast collections cover everything you may need from the natural stone for exterior or outdoor use like flagstone, pavers, pebbles, cobblestone to stone tiles for your decoration projects Including travertine, ledge stone, marble, granite, including absolute black, slate, shell stone, sandstone, limestone, quartzite, basalt, and even onyx. Tiles made of most popular materials like Marble and Granite can be used for any applications you may require like kitchen, backsplash, countertops, bathroom, shower, or any walls and floors in any style you like including subway tiles, mosaics, brick, fabric. The popular designer-look stone tiles

OUR COLLECTION SPEAKS ITSELF

We evolve over the years, but there are tile classics that stand the test of time. Among them, herringbone tile, arabesque tile, basketweave tile, hexagon tiles always remain contemporary. No matter what kind of project you start, we will help you choose the best options among all the tile sizes, and tile shapes. We have dedicated a special page to the topic of tile patterns, which is essential for geometric tiles.

Our collections cover every color you can imagine, but the most popular products are those in classic palettes like white, black, black and white, gray, gray and white, gold, brown, beige. However, more vibrant colors like red, purple, pink, green, and blue also find their place in the hearts of our customers. The variations of tile sizes are even more numerous than of colors and can easily overwhelm even those who are facing their second or third home remodeling project. This is why the most standard tile size like 12” x 12”, 12” x 24”, 16” x 16”, 18” x 18” and 24” x 24” are the most popular. The same is probably the reason of the popularity of the honed tile finish.

It is quite challenging to make the perfect choice among all the styles, finishes, sizes, and materials. That’s why we’re here to help you. Browse our collections to find the best natural stone and tiles available online at the best prices. Don’t forget to check out our discounted tile collection to enjoy the ideal quality of our products at the best possible price ever. Formed heat and pressure, natural stone tile boasts beauty and strength only nature could produce. With proper care and maintenance, it can last a lifetime. And since the slab is mined, it’s completely unique.

NATURAL STONE MOSAICS

With natural stone integrated with antique mirror and metal elements, the sophistication and unmatched level of luxury of this collection is a show stopper.

TILE & MOSAICS

Three large-format sizes, including a plank, and a linear brick joint gives this natural limestone and marble collection a mix-and-match, modular capability.

CENTER CITY NATURAL SLATE

Natural slate tile floors in a living room with lavender sofa, glass-top coffee table, and fire in a fireplace. The variation and color of the slate tile create a neutral backdrop with contrast and brightness. One of the strongest stones, it’s a stellar choice for almost any application.

SLATE STACKED STONE TILE

With an extensive color selection that is suitable for residential or commercial projects, Stacked Stone is ideal for walls, fireplaces, grills, island bases, and more. Feature wall with creamy beige marble in a baroque or lantern shape. Black and brown patterned chair visible on the side.

STONE DECORATIVE MOSAICS

With 500 colors and 100 unique shapes, the marble and limestone mosaics of Stone Decorative Accents can deliver a touch of unique finesse to any space. Modern style bathroom with dark wood cabinets and white marble covering the floor and walls. Large walk-in shower in the background.

MARBLE TILE & MOSAICS

Our Marble Collection is incredibly versatile, with select marble available in rectangular and plank sizes as well as vein-cut options, plus a host of beautiful coordinating accents. With its magnificent depth, exceptional color, and characteristic movement, our Granite Collection features exotic stone selections from around the world.

GRANITE COLLECTION TRAVERTINE TILE & MOSAICS Known for its use in Roman monuments, travertine’s classic stone look leaves a lasting impression. Our Travertine Collection includes plank sizes in various finishes and mosaics.

TRAVERTINE COLLECTION EXTRA-LARGE SLAB SURFACES

Bathroom with white marble vanity and white marble ingot mosaic backsplash.

MARBLE NATURAL STONE

Selected from the finest marble in the world, our line of marble slab provides an array of stunning colors. Chenille White limestone countertop in a bathroom. Succulents in vases on the countertop.

LIMESTONE NATURAL STONE

The beautiful neutral colors and soft, natural look of limestone adds subtle sophistication to any design. LIMESTONE

TRAVERTINE NATURAL STONE

Our line of travertine natural stone offers an alluring neutral color palette in a polished or honed finish.

TRAVERTINE

Rounded edge kitchen peninsula with cooktop and dramatic dark gray and white natural stone countertop.

GRANITE NATURAL STONE

Not just beautiful, granite’s distinctive granular appearance also makes it resistant to abrasion and chemicals. Close up of grey-veined green soapstone countertop with a silver bowl of green apples.

SOAPSTONE NATURAL STONE

Low-maintenance yet durable, soapstone has the beauty of a dark granite combined with the light veining of marble.

QUARTZITE NATURAL STONE

Our quartzite line features traditional, highly varied colors and natural cleft finishes as well as contemporary options.

NATURAL QUARTZITE

From many centuries, marble and other types of natural stone have symbolized wealth and power when used for flooring and other surfaces in residential dwellings. In the ancient civilizations of Persia, Greece, and Italy, the hand labor involved in quarrying, cutting, and transporting natural stone meant that it was only the wealthiest citizens or the government itself who could afford to use these materials in their buildings. Although modern equipment and transportation systems now make it more accessible to more people, marble and other natural stone is still a building material that retains a royal Stone.

THICKNESS

Many people ask about the thicknesses of the travertine tiles. It may be because they are trying to minimize the impact the new floor is going to have on doors and counters. Sometimes its because they want to make sure its to use on the walls. Other times it’s just because they want the thinnest possible for handling purposes. Here are some nuggets that might help as far as Stone norms are concerned.

SIZES AVAILABLE WITH US

• 12″x12″ and smaller are usually going to be 3/8″ thick. A tile that is 3/8″ thick is going to weigh about 5.5 lbs per square foot. • 16″x16″ and 18″x18″ are usually going to be 1/2″ thick. A tile that is 1/2″ thick is going to weight about 6 lbs per square foot. • 24″x24″ tiles are usually going to be 5/8″ thick. A tile that is 5/8″ thick is going to weight about 8 lbs per square foot. • Keep in mind that custom thicknesses for each size are possible and slabs can be done in 1.5 cm and 2 cm thicknesses.

CREATING THE PERFECT NURSERY FOR TWINS

Residential trends come and go. It was not that long ago when condominium developers in large metro areas came up with the idea of designing floor plans without functional kitchens. The idea was that the advent of smartphone apps and food delivery services would prompt city dwellers to forgo cooking altogether. However, things turned out differently as homeowners these days are making design statements with gourmet kitchens that boost the overall value of their properties.

When it comes to flooring material for the kitchen, natural-stone tiles are the obvious choice. Cork, wood, and vinyl flooring have certain advantages, but they do not come close to matching the attractive look and sheer durability of natural stone. Here are some of the best options for natural-stone floors in the kitchen.

GRANITE

Granite is the best popular choice of stone in the use of domestic and commercial purposes. Granite is stain resistant and durable stone, it’s wide and colors make the most beautiful stone for a lifetime. Granites are usually found in makrana mountain ranges. Bhandari Marbles is a top leading granite company in India to produce quality and strongest granites. Our best granite is famous for the combination of beauty.

Granite is a great option for homeowners who have previously chosen granite slabs for their kitchen counters. Ideally, the floor tiles should be selected at the same time as the slabs for the counters for matching purposes. The granite looks great, and it also lasts for a very long time as long as it is properly maintained. Luckily for homeowners, cleaning and resealing granite can be accomplished by using a stone-safe granite cleaner and sealer. The granite looks best in gourmet kitchens.

LIMESTONE SLABS & TILES – Black Kota Lime Stone Exporter

Exporter of LIMESTONE SLABS & TILES – Black Kota LimeStone, Machine Cut Black Limestone, Black Kadappa. This material is ideal for kitchens with a rustic or traditional style. Limestone that has been extracted from quarries in the Middle East and Northern Africa tends to have a very attractive and unique look. As limestone is very porous, it is important to choose tiles with higher density, and the protective seal must be reapplied often.

MARBLE

Marble may seem like an unusual choice for the kitchen, but it should be noted that it is the metamorphic result of limestone being exposed to higher igneous temperatures, which causes a process of crystallization. Marble is very durable and will look great in any kitchen. However, it requires a professional finish to make the surface less slippery.

SLATE

Homeowners who favor a rustic or industrial look for their kitchen should consider slate flooring, particularly darker tones that are not prone to staining. The typical finish of slate makes it look natural with only a slight polish that highlights the nonslip texture. Slate tends to look very sharp when paired with kitchen cabinets that feature a light and natural wood finish.

TRAVERTINE

Many regions of India choose travertine for their kitchen and dining room floors for three reasons: it looks great, lasts long, and can be easily maintained as long as it has been adequately honed, filled, and sealed. When chosen for the kitchen floor, travertine should be finished with a natural look instead of a glossy appearance. Travertine is ideal for open floor plans decorated with natural stone. A stone slab is a big stone, flat and of little thickness, that are generally used for paving floors, for covering walls or as headstones.

DESCRIPTION

The company has made its mark in the domestic and international markets as a Manufacturer, Supplier, and Exporter of Stone Tiles. The company offers a high-quality range of the Stone Tiles, which is smoothly finished and precisely manufactured. The Stone Tiles can be availed at the market leading prices and the deliveries are timely and safe.

Browse the selection of natural stone slabs. We have over 500 different stones and over many lakh square feet of slabs available in our warehouses throughout the country. Contact our Representative today with any questions. Bhandari marble group Quick Ship Program is designed to support projects with tight schedules. Twenty of our most popular items are included in the program. With the Stone Source Quick Ship Program, you can obtain large quantities of material, available for immediate shipment.

Natural stone is one of the most luxurious materials available for architecture and interior design. Our most popular varieties are marble, limestone, quartzite, travertine, and basalt. We also offer a carefully-curated selection of granite, onyx, slate, and more. We stock our most popular items in deep inventory, in addition to hundreds of others available in limited stock or via special order.

TRAVERTINE

Famous for centuries, it has huge architectural significance as it was the stone used to build the Travertino is being used as tiles of varied sizes to do multiple tile patterns. It is a great stone for doing walls, floors, bathrooms, and kitchen.

ONYX

Being a rare stone makes it precious and also adds to the charm of using Onyx for walls, floorings, counters, vanity settings, and even as art. The most amazing feature of Onyx is its translucency that makes it ideal for backlit walls in the dining space, bathrooms, and bedrooms.

QUARTZITE

A popular surface choice in new-age constructions, it is known for its durability and overall pleasing beauty. A hard igneous rock, it chiefly comprises of mica, quartz, feldspar, and a wide variety of minerals which give it different patterns and a wide variety of colors.

Everything You Want to Know About Marble slabs & Tile Flooring

Marble is one of the most timeless and elegant flooring options available at the Bhandari marble group since 1631.. It has been a popular choice for designers, architects, and artists throughout much of human history from Tajmahal to Pisa tower. Natural marble is quarried from mountain ranges in various locations around the world like India and Italy, and this diversity is reflected in the wide range of 500 types, 360-degree finishes, export sizes, and all colors available in marble flooring slabs and tile. Bhandari marble group’s While marble is a highly durable flooring surface. Surface Finishes on Marble by BHANDARI MARBLE GROUP marble floor depends on the type of finish the stone has. Honed, tumbled, or brushed marble tiles all have greater traction due to the dimensional elements in the surface of the stone. These and other marble tiles with a higher coefficient of friction are more appropriate for wet and high-traffic areas.

Cost of Marble Floor slabs and Tiles

The cost of Italian marble tile can range from as little as $3 per square foot or 210 RS to more than $20 per square foot or 1400 Rs per sq feet but Indian marble cheaper from Italian marble 20 RS per sq feet to 200 Rs per sq feet, making it one of the more expensive natural stone flooring options. In general, the larger the slab and tile, the higher the cost per square foot. BHANDARI MARBLE GROUP tile stores may offer marble slabs and tiles at extremely low prices.

BHANDARI MARBLE GROUP, INDIA, RAJASTHAN, KISHANGARH PIN CODE 305801

[daddysemporium]

The Late Heavy Bombardment - Christian Bök

Welcome, Wraith and Reader, to the Hadean Eon of the Earth. When Myrmidons hurled their cobalt bombs into your molten world of basalt and bronze. When mighty golems swan-dove from orbit to drive their glaives of iron into your black mesas, only to be engulfed by the blast  waves. When meteors fell earthward in droves, each one a gigaton warhead, ablaze. When supervolcanoes erupted, flammivomous, after each hammerblow from these endless  blitzes of aerolites and firebombs. When bolides of brim- stone collided, then exploded into ablative cascades. Whe  tsunamis of lava, like napalm, bedrowned a subcontinent in a deluge of flames. When millions of Molotov cocktails shattered all at once upon the cobblestones of Hell. When Trojans, berserk wit h rage, stormed over the brink of yours  abyss, vowing to claw your face from the skull of the Moon.

…

What howl can beckon, from the benthic fathoms of your damnation, so alien a ghoul as Vampyroteuthis infernalis (‘the vampire squid from Hell’), a maw that can hurl itself at your soul, like an overcloak cast upon a coat hook in the dark? What does such a black brain, afloat in its vat of ink, know about the death blows to your planet? What does such an emissary think about the pageant of living things that go extinct, en route to your incinerators (the trilobites, the nautilites, the gorgosaurs, the pterosaurs, the iguanodons, the megalodons—all of them massacred, but unmourned)? All the deepest seas have withered and soured. All the tallest alps have crumbled and burned. You have choked on miasmas of methane. You have upturned all your braziers, spilling embers across the flagstones. All your fossils have dissolved in a flash flood of acid rain.

…

Tell me, Wraith and Reader, tell me: Will love save us from our fear that we are here alone? What then if we peer into the sky at night but see no distant lantern blink- ing at us from the far end of the cosmos? What if such a beacon goes unnoticed, like a dying flame in thee dark- ness? What if only the most wicked people in the world (the pharaohs, the warlocks, the assassins) ever bet to read this signal from outer space? What if the message, when decoded, says nothing but a single phrase repeated: ‘We despise you! We despise you!’ What if we find the  evidence for such hate embedded in our genomes? Even  now, colonies of dark ants from a species called Mystrium shadow feed themselves upon the blood of their young. Even now, my love, these words confess to you that the universe without you in it is but a merciless explosion.

[minecraftstev3]

Well... You asked for this @multifandomjunkieiguess

Grass block Leaves Cactus Mushroom Fire Bookshelf Bricks Farmland Glass Stone Stone bricks Obsidian Gravel Bedrock Clay Dirt Monster spawner Snow Sandstone Sand Pumpkin Mycelium Black wool Wool Magenta wool Cyan wool Brown wool Gray wool Lime wool Green wool Yellow wool White wool Red wool Dark gray wool Pink wool Purple wool Blue wool Netherrack Coal ore Diamond ore Gold ore Iron ore Ice Cobblestone Moss stone Melon Acacia Slab Birch slab Oak slab Spruce slab Dark oak slab Warped slab Crimson slab Jungle slab Sandstone slab Smooth stone slab Oak planks Birch planks Spruce planks Dark oak planks Acacia planks Jungle planks Crimson planks Warped planks Jack-O-Lantern Redstone ore Lapis lazuli ore Block of diamond Block of gold Block of iron Lapis lazuli block Water Lava Oak stairs Dark oak stairs Birch stairs Jungle stairs Acacia stairs Spruce stairs Crimson stairs Warped stairs Cobblestone stairs Brick stairs Smooth stone stairs Netherbrick stairs TNT Note block Jukebox Dispenser Chest Enchantment table Furnace Crafting table Piston Sticky piston Redstone lamp Sponge Glowstone Soulsand Soul soil Trapdoor Fence Nether brick fence Fence gate Oak door Birch door Spruce door Dark oak door Jungle door Acacia door Crimson door Warped door Pressure plate Iron door End stone End portal frame Cauldron Bed Cake Dragon egg Powered rail Rail Detector rail Button Lever Redstone repeater Redstone torch Torch Redstone dust Brewing stand Red mushroom Mushroom Vines Dead bush Fern Grass Orchid Dandelion Oxeye daisy Allium Peony Rose Lilac Cornflower Red Tulip White Tulip Pink Tulip Orange Tulip Poppies Sunflower Azure bluet Iron bars Cobweb Strong Lily pad Birch sapling Oak sapling Dark oak sapling Acacia sapling Spruce sapling Jungle sapling Ladder Nether portal End portal Nether wart Warped fungus Oak log Birch log Spruce log Dark oak log Acacia log Jungle log Crimson log Warped log Stripped oak log Stripped birch log Stripped spruce log Stripped dark oak log Stripped jungle log Stripped acacia log Stripped warped log Stripped crimson log Bone Wet sponge Nether gold ore Nether quartz ore Netherite ore Blackstone Magma block Basalt block Crying obsidian Shroomlight Weeping vines Nether wart blocks Grass path Bell Soul campfire Soul torch

[zachary2897]

ZackPack v1.2.39

Added DarknessLib 1.1.0, which is a library required for newer versions of Hungering Darkness.

Added Realistic Brewing Stand 3.1.0, which renders the actual potions currently in a Brewing Stand rather than generic red bottles.

Updated AbyssalCraft to 1.9.19.

Updated Battle Towers to 1.6.5.

Updated CleanView to v1c.

Updated CraftTweaker to 4.1.19.

Updated Custom Main Menu to 2.0.9.1.

Updated Hungering Darkness to 1.4.0.

Updated Mantle to 1.3.3.55.

Updated RandomPatches to 1.21.0.3.

Updated Tinkers’ Construct to 2.12.0.157.

Updated The Aether v1.4.4 to the latest build from Jenkins. This fixes a few issues, including a crash bug.

Updated The Beneath to 1.7.0.

End Stone can no longer be turned into Ethaxium in a Transmutator. In order to get Ethaxium now, you need to trade with Remnants to get an Ethaxium Pickaxe, which can mine Ethaxium.

The sky in the Dark Realm is now pitch black.

Niter Ore can now be mined with a Stone Pickaxe or equivalent.

Fixed the Dark Matter Pickaxe, Red Matter Pickaxe, and Red Morningstar right-click mining function not working on Nether Gold Ore or Ender Biotite Ore.

Crafting Gem armor now requires each Klein Star Omega to be fully charged with EMC.

Rusty Iron Plates can now be crafted using an Evertide Amulet in place of a Water Bucket or Skyroot Water Bucket.

Ethaxium Ingots can no longer be made using Oblivion Catalysts.

Changed how Ethaxium Bricks and Dark Ethaxium Bricks are made.

Marble, Limestone, Basalt, and every type of Stained Planks can now be created in a Materializer.

Obsidian can now be created by pouring water on top of Solid Lava in a Casting Basin.

Brimstone can now be created by pouring lava on top of Cobblestone in a Casting Basin.

Red Sand can no longer be created by pouring blood on top of Sand in a Casting Basin.

Completely reworked how variants of Seared Stone, Seared Bricks, Brownstone, and Brownstone Bricks are crafted.

Changed the recipe for crafting EFLNs.

All types of Slimeballs can now be used to create Sticky Pistons, Leads, and Magma Cream.

Slimes captured in Buckets can now be used to create Slime Blocks, Sticky Pistons, Leads, and Magma Cream.

White Capes can now be crafted into Red Capes, Blue Capes, and Yellow Capes using the respective color dyes.

An additional Music Disc can now be converted into its Aether counterpart using an Altar.

Enchanted Aether Grass Blocks can no longer be created in an Altar.

The Cudgel, Dreadium Katana Hilt, Dreadium Katana, and Soul Reaper Blade can now be repaired using an Altar.

The Tome of Knowledge can no longer be obtained in survival since it had the potential to completely break progression.

Fixed multiple duplication bugs involving Ice and Packed Ice.

Fixed a duplication bug involving Chunks of Coralium and Refined Coralium Ingots.

Fixed a duplication bug involving Molten Gravitite.

Fixed a duplication bug involving Gravel and Flint.

Fixed a duplication bug involving Wheat and Wheat Seeds.

Fixed wood slabs being able to smelt more items than they should.

Changed how the recipes for different types of Potions of Annihilation work.

Double slabs are no longer listed in the JEI item panel.

Changed the resource location of the window icons.

Updated localization for consistency.

Updated legal documents and the “README.txt” file.

Removed unnecessary files from the package.

Changed default config options:

Enabled VanillaFix’s improved crash screen.

AbyssalCraft biomes now generate much less frequently in the Overworld.

Slime islands now generate less frequently.

Magma slime islands now generate in the Nether, albeit very rarely.

Clay now generates in the Beneath.

Christmas content no longer generates naturally in the Aether.

Quark’s varied dungeons no longer generate.

Dark Offspring now spawn more rarely.

Evil Animals now only spawn at night during a full moon. However, when those conditions are met, they spawn much more frequently than before.

Significantly reduced the amount of damage done by the Red Katar’s AoE attack (it can’t one-shot bosses anymore).

The Harvest Goddess Band no longer grows plants when held.

Gem armor offensive abilities can only be triggered with an empty hand now.

The Watch of Flowing Time has less of an effect on machines and mobs now, and will no longer affect Energy Collectors at all.

The night vision effect given by the Plated Coralium Helmet now functions in all dimensions.

Shoggoth Ooze will now gradually dissipate.

Added EMC to Ender Dragon’s Breath, Candy Canes, Candy Cane Swords, Gingerbread Men, and the block variants of Red and Brown Mushrooms.

Changed the EMC values of Coralium Gems, Dark Ethaxium Bricks, Enchanted Aether Grass Blocks, Ethaxium Ingots, Materializers, Tomes of Knowledge, Transmutators, and each piece of Gem armor.

Changed the EMC value of Dreaded Shards of Abyssalnite in order to fix a duplication bug involving Dreaded Shards of Abyssalnite and Dreadium Ingots.

All decorative statues now have the same amount of EMC.

All coins now have the same amount of EMC.

The dismount keybind is now separate from the sneak keybind.

Pistons can no longer break blocks since this mechanic was completely unbalanced and broke game progression. As a consequence, Iron Rods have been removed.

Pistons can no longer move Chests or mimic Chests. This fixes a number of issues, including a crash bug.

Burning entities no longer give off any light. This fixes a major performance issue involving burning entities (especially Blazes).

Removed Quark’s “Realistic” world type. The “Customized” world type can still be used to generate this type of world by using the preset found here.

Minor updates for the mods that were updated.

Minor update to an outdated file.

Download ZackPack v1.2.39 Requires Minecraft Forge 14.23.5.2768

[modediplomatique]

CALÇADA COUTURE _

They slide when it rains. They slide under the dust. In full sun, they dazzle you and sometimes they twist your ankle. But what are the cobblestones of #Lisbon? In black and white, basalt and limestone, they cover every sidewalk of the city. Draw waves, boats and conquests. The designs can be geometric, figurative or specific depending on the particular location and the tastes of the time. Talk about adventures and luster of yesteryears. They are called calçada portuguesa; nicknamed “concrete of the poets” and they are photographed with tenderness or better sewed with painstaking love like the couture @AlexanderMcQueen. #McQueenSS19 trapped in postcards of dresses so free in the alleys of #Lisboa’s undulating pattern of Avenida da Liberdade or designing symmetry in #Chiado. All day long, an army of skilful craftsmen roams the city to bend down the sidewalks by hand. Kneeling in the rain, sweating under the sun, the “brigade des paveurs” never rests. They has too much work. Fill in the holes left by the weather with a simple glove and hammer. Often the men of the brigade take a wooden stool with them, often they have the pants stretched to the rope. With a quick and precise gesture, they split the limestone cubes in half and bury them in the sand tirelessly. One after the other and start again. For years, they have arranged them artfully to testify to the cultural Lusitânia richness of the city. They are artists, proud, the brotherhood of the #calceteiros. But time was right for them. From 400 souls in the early twentieth century, they are 20 nowadays. Replaced in a slow burning fire by less skilled but faster workers, dressed in the hurry and covering #Lisbonne with a thick cream-colored uniform layer. It feels couture to me. The calceteiras of couture are les petites mains, never petites but grandioses. They are an esprit de corps caught too in a slow burning fire of saudade. Yet we will be under their dedicated spell. Always will. Always be. You do not trample on a work of art with impunity, especially chez #AlexanderMcQueen. “L’âme d une maison est aussi celle de ses artisans.” _

#ALESSANDROBERGA | L’ÉDITOR #PARIS #PFW #MODEDIPLOMATIQUE (at Alexander McQueen France) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bs-3FxVgK_x/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=ui3cy8jv2vvf

[hzxstone]

Tumbled Zhangpu Black Basalt Cobblestone

We're known as one of the most professional tumbled zhangpu black basalt cobblestone manufacturers and suppliers in China. If you're going to wholesale high quality tumbled zhangpu black basalt cobblestone at competitive price, welcome to get more information from our factory.Tumbled Zhangpu Black Basalt Cobblestone is similar to a manufactured brick in shape, however, it has smooth edges and corners and is slightly larger in size. Tumbled cobblestone makes elegant driveways while adding a historic appearance. Tumbled cobblestones make stunning patios and walkways.Connect HZX STONE for more details about outdoor granite and basalt cobblestone , email to hzx@hzxco.com

[its-love-u-asshole]

Shaking In My Skull [Ch. 6]

Pairing: Fushimi Saruhiko/Yata Misaki

Rating: T

Summary: Stuck on the plane between life and death, Saruhiko makes the decision to risk everything, forced to find faith in himself and the headstrong Yata Misaki as they both face unimaginable demons.

Ao3 Version 

Thanks @emeraldwxves for reading this over and helping out a ton with it while I was writing ahh ilu <3

Comments are always appreciated! Enjoy!

With approximately one hundred and five people dying every minute, having new arrivals was common. People perished easily, Munakata had come to realize, both the young and the old. He watched as the gates of heaven continuously opened, allowing people into the new, trouble free paradise. At one point he compared it to a kingdom, but it didn't do it enough justice. No kingdom he'd ever served was as vibrant.

There were angels, those with less authority, ushering the newly departed in, accommodating those in shock from having died suddenly or young. At the end of it all though, people welcomed the peaceful landscape, the endless possibilities, and lack of worries which life had been plagued with.

The portal to heaven closed in front of Mikoto, and Munakata nodded. Even with Fushimi and Yata carrying on with the Return, all aspects of the afterlife still had to be checked on every now and again.

In a way it was a break. The Return was a heavy thing to watch.

Hell was, however, usually a different story when checked up on.

Munakata looked away as the portal opened before him, the gnarled, twisted entrance creaking shut as the disgruntled cries and sounds of unrest faded away. People arrived in hell often too, but they were hardly ever afforded explanations or relief.

It was unforgiving, bleak. He couldn't understand why some honestly deserved to be there.

But alas...

Munakata had accepted the ways of the afterlife and his position long ago. Sorting people, disconnecting himself from them...was difficult. In his life, bonding, socializing, understanding others had been a big part of his personal philosophy. Here it wasn't the most intelligent way to go about things.

Souls were meant to go where they were meant to go. He could not question the ways of the universe, he could only do his best.

As he and Mikoto glanced down into the pool, two figures could be seen walking, hand and hand down a slick incline, the taller collapsing from the effort when they reached the bottom.

In that moment, so close yet still so far from the end, Munakata found himself hoping again. Hoping that hell wouldn't have two new arrivals anytime soon.

"Caves."

But yes, there were perhaps potentially worse things on the horizon.

Munakata blinked, looking to his partner for clarification. It wasn't exactly that he hadn't heard but...maybe if he asked again the answer would be different. "Pardon?"

"They're headin' to the caves," Mikoto mumbled, twirling the chain which sat around his neck in his hands, never taking his eyes off the pool below. It wasn't often Mikoto looked off put, but...there it was.

Munakata could've argued that there was no way of telling for sure that it was the caves, but as he saw the slick basalt rock beneath the two boys, his gut told him otherwise. Certain things were just common knowledge after so many centuries of watching the Return be done.

"Mm." It was all he could say at first. After all, Fushimi and Yata had only gone through two trials. Munakata sighed, trying to be logical. Yes it had been two trials, but they’d both been unusually grueling, back breaking trials. It was perhaps more than likely that the caves would come along now...

As dread began to fester, as did a ping of irritation. “It always feels too soon for him to interfere."

Munakata's eye twitched. Couldn't be helped, he hated when he lacked jurisdiction.

A grunt was the response he initially received, followed by a tense shrug. Care free or not, Mikoto had been uncharacteristically on edge through the entire ordeal. They both had, and they'd tried to help, but now..."Maybe there's somethin' else before that."

Munakata's body stiffened, and he kept his eyes trained on the figures in the pool as they took a rest. Not even the genuine display of affection could stop the ice running through him though.

"A trial in the caves has never happened before, Suoh."

A shrug. Munakata was really starting to hate that, even after five or six centuries of it. It communicated so much when it was from Mikoto, the one, lazy gesture. "Doesn't mean there couldn't be."

That was impossible to argue with, and Munakata cursed the fact. The Return was full of its surprises, but pulling out so many in one go...

He could only trust that the boys would make it. They'd already done so well as it was.

At least the thought itself made Munakata crack a small smile, eyes trained on the figures below as they looked ahead on the path, the ground becoming slick and dark.

They would manage.

Still, Munakata couldn't help from tapping his foot anxiously, sharing a last, knowing look with Mikoto as the next phase of the journey seemed to commence before them.

"Well regardless, anything that happens in there isn't in our hands anymore."

--

Saruhiko's legs had given out, and really, Yata's had too. Once the other had dropped to the floor, he hadn't been far behind, landing softly against the other.

Yata's hands twisted in the fabric of Saruhiko's shirt, pulling him in to chase any warmth he could get. It probably didn't matter much though, his body already seemed so used to the cold.

The land around them was barren, quiet apart from the occasional wind gust. It felt as if they'd traveled forever, but Yata didn't know. Curiously, he looked behind where they sat on the path, expecting to see a steep drop of cliff and expanse of land. But no, there was only a flat, desert like landscape. Everything they'd traveled up until that point was gone, like it had been erased.

Yata swallowed, no longer in awe or fearful of how the world he was in manipulated itself every which way. No, what was important was...

"Can you see anything ahead?" Yata spoke hesitantly, looking to the distance before them. He was breathing hard, his head spinning from what must've been a drop in altitude or...something. Yata had been pretty adventurous and outdoorsy when he was alive, so he'd figured he knew what that felt like. The only thing was that it felt like instead of hiking too high, he'd swam too deep.

Fuck...my head...

They had walked so long it felt like, through strange turns and crevices, down steep inclines which seemed never-ending. That was one damn thing he'd never get used to, the time here. It was messed up, and he didn't know how people who'd done this by themselves hadn't gone mad. Saruhiko grounded him, and Yata was seriously grateful.

And yet even without a clock or time table, he felt they'd come to some sort of designated stop as the land evened out into the flat and desolate wasteland ahead of them. Creepy. It was almost like they were back at the start, right before the tombs, where everything was gray and empty. Yata shivered, no, it was definitely not comforting.

They'd been sitting there a while, unsure of how to move forward. His hands were gripped on Saruhiko's forearm as the other took a rest, body having caved now that they'd finally reached flat land, and Yata finally managed to pry his clenched hands off of him.

Ouch...

His hands had cramped up from helping Saruhiko walk the last mile or so on the pathway, or at least, he told himself he was just helping Saruhiko. In truth, as they'd ventured further towards the artificial horizon to find their path from the boneyard, the temperature had dropped something severe, the frigidness causing him to clutch the other for warmth. He'd mostly gotten used to it at that point, but he figured had he been alive, he'd surely be dead from the cold. He stretched out his hands with a wince, watching them flex absentmindedly, his knuckles popping from the release. Yata stood up then, moving a hand to shield his eyes as a gust of wind blew through the air, the sting achingly familiar.

"No..." Saruhiko's voice was hoarse as he finally answered, but he didn't seem as worn out as before, finally standing steady as he squinted. The taller reached out almost mechanically, grabbing Yata's hands to soothe the quakes which still disturbed them, and soon the jolts became small trembles under the other's rough hands. The relief it brought was becoming a drug at this point, a fix he needed, and one which if he could've bottled up, would surely be named after the taller. It coursed through him, the conviction, as the fabric bandaging Saruhiko's wounds pressed against his skin. Saruhiko's eyes were homed in on Yata's, a mere moment of focus in which Yata felt as if they were connected by thought, unmarred by anxiety or discomfort. He remembered then, how he almost felt like it was fate he'd met Saruhiko, it had to be! It was something about him, how even as closed off as Saruhiko was, Yata wanted to know more and more. He returned the stare fondly as his hands finally calmed completely, instead wrapping around the taller's with care as he felt the wounds which hadn't been covered. Words didn't feel needed as the moment stretched on, like time had slowed in order for Saruhiko's feelings to sync up with his own, and Yata didn't quite know what that meant. Or, maybe he did, but there wasn't much he could do about it. Or shit, was he just imagining it all?

No, he doubted it. All he knew was the expression of 'I'm glad you're here,' was something he felt through his whole body, a split second of inordinate bliss.

But he guessed it couldn't have lasted, no matter how much he wanted it to.

"The path stops up ahead," Saruhiko managed to say above the wind, and Yata turned to look at where he was pointing.

Huh...

Saruhiko was right, the black cobblestone which he'd become so familiar with cut off abruptly in the distance, or so it seemed. Maybe it's another cliff or something...

Yata really hoped not, his hands couldn't take much more tearing. Or maybe this was the trial, and they had to figure some kind of riddle out like in the movies!

Yata's fascination with that was born and then perished almost a second later. Right, but this wasn't a movie, and no kind of stupid riddle was going to get them back to their lives.

Really, Yata wasn't going to be able to watch action or adventure films at all after this, it sucked.

Fuck, stop it! Focus!

"W-what do you think it is?"

Saruhiko didn't respond, just began to walk slowly forward, guiding Yata with him for a few silent, tense minutes as they closed the distance between them and the end of the path. As they walked, Yata could swear he felt the wind dying down, the whistling of it giving way to...a dripping sound. Water.

Saruhiko halted, and there was the end. Or, he guess he should call it, the rest of the path.

At their feet lay a large, black gash in the earth, a crevice which he couldn't see the contents of. It seemed to drop though, like a rabbit hole, but he wasn't sure.

The trickling sound was louder now, most definitely water dripping from something, so obviously there had to be a floor. But...

The darkness and uncertainty unnerved him, the trials had all capitalized on that aspect too. No sight. Not good. Those were the associations he'd made, and he felt the anxiety inside him flare up.

This was it, he didn't know what it was, but this was the trial. So close...

He swallowed as Saruhiko cautiously kneeled down to peer inside, as if that would help, and Yata instinctively clutched his hand tighter, like something would come up and pull the other away.

Nothing did, much to his relief, but they still hadn't made any progress. Yata had no clue how to approach this other than the obvious, which was to dive right in and get it over with. Not comforting...

The gash radiated cold air and smelled musty and damp. It reminded him of the mountains or coves, things which usually were cool and pleasant for him. He sighed at that, oh how so many things had been ruined for him. As Saruhiko turned to him though, he couldn't help but feel grateful for the one thing he did gain.

"Misaki, I need a light."

The phrase itself just about kicked him out of the numbness he felt. Saruhiko's eyes were on him, determined, the blue just as intense and striking as it had been when they'd first met.

What was he so afraid of, when he had those eyes on him?

The thought made him crack a small smile, and Saruhiko's puzzled expression had him fighting back a laugh.

They were fine. Saruhiko needed him, Saruhiko was doing this with him, and nothing would stop them. Delaying the trial wouldn't help, and either way, he'd gladly face what was next. One step closer...

With that in mind, Yata looked into the blackness, set his jaw, and leaned forward.

--

When he'd been alive, Yata had loved the outdoors, any type of hiking or running or exertion in which he felt energized and invincible. He'd always wanted to go to national parks from all sorts of countries, explore the caves (as long as he could see, because the dark was not fun), climb the steep inclines and reach the top of the highest mountains. Maybe it was silly, especially since before he'd died, his biggest worry was having enough savings for the power bill than a plane ticket. Still...the thought never left him.

Once, he'd gone with a friend who'd been studying archaeology on a special trip to tour some caves and ruins, and it had been the coolest thing ever! It hadn't helped to end any fascination he had with caverns and things alike, and he'd always said he'd explore a lot more when he was older, more successful.

But...now...

He wasn't so sure about exploring.

They'd long passed their point of entry, the gash in the ground which, upon heading down, revealed a sloping rock which they had slid down. He could probably compare it closest to that wonderland movie...he'd watched it at some point with his siblings. What was the character’s name?

Alice.

That's how he felt, like when Alice fell down that hole and it seemed to go on and on. Only...it was less fun looking, dreary and quiet, dark. There weren't bright colors and shapes, only blackness and the fear of the unknown because really, as he slid down the slope further down, he had no idea what was at the bottom. He didn't bother using his aura either, too afraid to waste more energy.

Yata was always someone who relied on his senses, used his body to react, but all he had to guide him was the cold dampness of the rock, and Saruhiko's hands latched on his arm.

Yeah, at least Saruhiko is here.

Even now that they were walking on stable ground with bursts of red aura to guide them, entry point far behind, Yata repeated that himself. In fact, he felt as if he'd experienced the sentiment so many times over the course of the journey, and each time, it never ceased to help.

Yeah, because Saruhiko is my friend.

He flushed, stumbling a bit as they walked, because no...that didn't feel right, and he knew it.

"Misaki, I can't see," Saruhiko said, and Yata jumped, realizing he'd let his arm hang too low.

"S-sorry!" He brought his hand up, and the crimson light bounced off the dark rock. The cave was huge, but he felt caged in. The ceilings were high, but as they reached the top, they seemed to curve inward, like a bird cage of some kind. At least, that's how most...sections were. Otherwise, the layout had been inconsistent, the ground ranging from flat to extremely difficult to walk on. While there was no indication of ramps or inclines, Yata still had the unnerving feeling that they were walking farther and farther down.

It didn't help that they were both on edge. They'd hardly talked since descending into the cave initially, too concerned with what was possibly down there.

Yata swallowed. There was always something waiting, and he hated it. It was always a battle, being anxious and fearful while also buzzing with the instinct to fight and protect. At least he wasn't alone there either.

Saruhiko was being extra diligent about it too, guiding Yata's hand like a torch by the arm to scan about, eyes narrowed in suspicion. In any other situation, Yata might've been nervous about the close contact, but at this point, with everything that had happened...

No, Saruhiko didn't make him nervous anymore, only made him feel strong and safe, and he was pretty sure the other felt the same way about him. Of course he basically knew what that meant, but how to go about saying it was nerve wracking. 

B-besides, it's not really the time!

Right, he should focu--

"Ow!"

Smooth.

Yata clutched at his shin, wincing as the subtle throbbing died down until it became nothing more than a dull ache. Nothing major, but aggravating all the same. Not to mention it gave Yata a fucking heart attack damn.

Judging from how Saruhiko's stance had shifted into one of intimidation, the sudden action had scared him as well. Yata looked to where he had tripped, illuminating the floor as Saruhiko crouched down beside him, relaxing a bit.

"Sorry, I was too focused on everywhere else to look at the ground," Saruhiko said, more than a little irritable.

"Don't worry! I'm just glad it wasn't some kind of monster or something!"

Saruhiko hummed low in affirmation, but reached forward to guide Yata's hand over the floor. When he'd tripped, there'd been a loud clank, like whatever he'd hit had skidded a ways away.

Come to think of it, whatever had hit his shin on had felt pretty cold, but not like a rock exactly...

It felt like...

"It's--"

Metal.

"A trumpet?"

Yup, now this place officially made no sense.

It wasn't the ghost relatives, or the monster, no. The trumpet.

Surely enough, the old and tarnished brass instrument sat a few feet away, dented all over and hardly having any leftover shine to it. It had seen better days.

But what the fuck?

"A trumpet."

"Actually Misaki, I think that's a french h--"

"I don't give a fuck what it is!" Yata was past the point of trying to be quiet. Whatever the next trial was, he welcomed it. "What is it doing here?!"

He missed being given straightforward obstacles really, because if this was some sort of riddle, he was screwed.

Maybe it's magic.

Cautiously, Saruhiko walked forward to pick the item up, examining it for anything special or telling, but no, it was really just a broken instrument.

Um...

"Hey Saru, maybe the angel guy ran out of ideas and now we gotta hit things with the trumpet!"

"French h--"

"I don't care!"

"Either way," Saruhiko went on, eyeing the brass critically as his hands lightly dusted it off. The scraping sound made Yata want to plug his ears. "I don't think it's of any use to us. Unless you know someone by the name of W-Walker S.?"

"Huh? Why?"

He certainly didn't know anyone personally with such a western name, couldn't even recall a movie star or foreign celebrity that rang any bells.

"The name engraved on this, that's what it says."

Yata stood up finally from his floor position, leaning against Saruhiko to see the faint name scratched into the instrument. To say the least, he was confused. Why was some dude's random shit lying in the middle of the cave?

"It looks like it was fancy," Saruhiko said, mostly to himself. "Back when it was new at least."

"But, why is it here?"

Saruhiko only shook his head, but Yata knew the expression he wore. Saruhiko's mind was working, cogs turning as he went through the possibilities. Yata grinned confidently as Saruhiko's eyebrows knit together. Even with the simplest and stupidest information, Saruhiko tried to use it to his advantage, and Yata felt something inside him twist pleasantly as he stared at the taller.

Yeah, Saruhiko sure was smart.

As if an idea had popped into his head, an inference, Saruhiko grabbed Yata's hand, forcing the small embers in the direction to their left. Yata was confused at first, because really they should keep going forward, there was no other opening, but as he was about to voice the observation, his eyes found the jagged edge of the wall. Except it wasn't a wall.

It's a corner.

It was like the light bulb went off in their heads. Something was always hidden, and it might not be important at the end of it, but any kind of clue was helpful.

They walked forward the twenty or so feet, coming to the corner which rounded into a narrower path before widening again into what was probably another room of the cavern.

It might have been the formation, but they both felt curious, could both sense the tension and eeriness radiating from the place. They weren't going to back down or avoid it though, in the end nothing could be avoided in this place anyways if it was meant to be. Might as well meet things head on.

The curiosity only intensified upon casting a light onto the floor of the pathway, revealing more objects which seemed to stand out against the bleak rock.

A pacifier, a tattered blanket, some books, a bible, a pocket watch...

Broken, random things which made about as much sense as the french horn Saruhiko had carelessly let fall from his hands, causing a clang to echo through the walls. If there really was something in this place, it definitely should've found them by now.

Yata exhaled a breath he hadn't remembered holding, mechanically walking a bit forward to pick up the pacifier, and for whatever reason, he felt like crying.

It didn't make sense, but the emotion swept over him as his fingertips danced over the cheap plastic. It was worn, but still had the designs of flowers cleanly etched onto it, like it hadn't really been used much before ending up down here, and the thought made something inside him sink. He brought it closer to his face with a shaking hand, looking back to Saruhiko in an attempt to get help, as if maybe the taller would know what to do.

Yata held it out, and Saruhiko wordlessly reached forward, finger hooking through the small ring, before he let it tumble to the ground with a gasp.

Yata wasn't so sure about this anymore. It shouldn't have meant anything, the french horn, the pacifier, all the shit on the ground, but it felt important, and he almost felt rude for standing there. The room, only ten or so feet ahead, radiating somberness more than before.

"Um..." Yata looked at Saruhiko, searched his eyes for the calculations, the ideas, but there were none. They may have been more confident about things now sure, but stuff like this always reminded Yata how little they actually knew about this place, about death.

They stood for only a few more moments, Saruhiko taking the first steps forward so he was directly behind Yata. There wasn't enough room for them to walk side by side until the passage widened.

The quiet felt alive somehow in that moment, consuming them, not allowing words to make it out, and all Yata could think to do was move forward, because surely there were worse things they still had to see.

--

Before Saruhiko had scored his job at the software company, he'd packed boxes and reviewed shipments for a large department store at a warehouse. It included lazy coworkers, a nerdy orange vest, a clipboard, and required below average intelligence. It was a part time job, something he'd only planned on doing for a few months while he looked for a position within his field, especially since most of his friends had already scored jobs at the office he had applied to. It was only a matter of time. Hell, Enomoto had already been setting up a desk for him, and he hadn't gotten a call back yet.

The rows of merchandise, clothing, furniture, and appliances seemed to stretch on endlessly. Saruhiko couldn't believe people would eventually buy up the whole inventory. The hundreds of kitchen table sets, the infinite number of desk lamps...His clipboard made it all seem so minuscule, grouping every item into a category with the appropriate check boxes. Machines and delivery trucks would come pick them up in bulk, carrying them to the designated stores and home shows, and yet the warehouse was always full, never seeming any less empty as Saruhiko walked around, dutifully accounting for every piece. Maybe it wasn't as excessive as he had thought though, back then.

Yeah back then, he had no idea what 'excessive' truly meant.

What lay in front of him now, was endless. This is what an infinite amount of items genuinely looked like.

The room they were in was still encased by dark cave walls, but otherwise it was by no means normal, and he was pretty sure he was gaping.

It was filled to the brim with a ton of objects, everything ranging from things which resembled old relics to books he'd seen in stores, modern appliances and jewelry. Lockets, strollers, expensive canes, cookbooks, anything he could've imagined, yet so random and insignificant he was left stunned. 

All these things, they didn't mean anything, but they radiated importance and feelings so potent he almost choked.

"W-what...is this?" Misaki stepped forward, cautiously picking up an old teapot, and flinching when the handle broke off and caused the thing to shatter at his feet. The redhead jumped back, and it was like death swept calmly over the room. Misaki dropped the handle instantly, like it had harmed him, and scooted as far away as he could from the mountains of items. It was hard, considering there were mostly surrounding apart from the exit.

Saruhiko couldn't wrap his head around it, couldn't start to theorize or infer about anything, too overcome with the suffocating aura around them.

It was as if nothing could pierce the atmosphere.

"It's what it looks like."

Almost nothing.

They turned, and Saruhiko heard Misaki choke a little, but he didn't have much time to be amused at the fact.

There was a light clack of heels on the rock, as well as the light scrape of something being accidentally stepped on, and then she was facing them head on, only a few feet away. How he hadn't noticed her before, he wasn't sure.

She was intense, that's what Saruhiko observed first. It was probably because of the eyes, light green which shone against pale skin and a fine bone structure, the sharp features framed by waves of blonde hair tied with a bow. She wasn't all that tall, probably just shorter than Misaki even, but she didn't seem it. Her stature, the power she radiated, it made her tower over them, only made to look small over the mountains upon mountains of items around them.

She vaguely reminded Saruhiko of Seri, but no, Seri may have been authoritative and professional when it was called for, but she didn't radiate such...supremacy.

It made Saruhiko squint, but he was intrigued nonetheless. This was the first human like person they'd seen since Totsuka after all...

Misaki on the other hand, was avoiding looking at the woman completely, face flushed, and unintelligible muttering slipping through his lips. Saruhiko didn't even feel like teasing, definitely not a good sign.

Saruhiko figured it was best to get this over with. The woman didn't necessarily look dangerous, but the taller didn't miss the blades which were lying a few feet behind her.

Guard up, always.

"Forgive us if we're a bit too shaken up to see the obvious," Saruhiko replied, not even slightly genuine. It didn't seem to register with the woman, or maybe she just didn't care. The taller wouldn't give her the liberty of directing him into this though. He was getting impatient, and all he wanted was to move forward. "Who are you?"

Saruhiko was thankful that she didn't seem fond of wasting time either. Misaki tensed up beside him as she sighed, gaze penetrating.

"I guess, Hirasaka Douhan is best. It's not useful information for you to know, but I'm the guardian of attachments and ambition," she said, his eyelids lowering in the slightest hint of irritation, like the title was as dumb as it sounded.

"You don't sound so convinced."

Her expression softened, like she hadn't expected him to notice, and nodded curtly. "It...doesn't fit me well, a bit of a joke in my opinion. It's a boring job with nothing to gain, but maybe that's why it was my punishment more than a promotion. I have to thank you though, I never see people make it this far. I'm glad there's something to entertain me."

This far. He put that question on the back burner in his head. He was still sort of stuck on the word 'guardian.' He backtracked, going over her words in his head and really analyzed them, noting how Misaki shot him a confused look after thinking to himself as well.

Right. Think.

Attachment and ambition were concepts, but not really what he'd have guessed to be important enough to need a deity, if that's what she could be called. Abstract things like ambition, love, and all sorts of others played a role in the human condition (at least that's what he'd learned), so perhaps it wasn't too shocking. It was more the realization that there were other players besides Munakata and Mikoto in the afterlife that had him wondering how much control the two really had. This woman, Hirasaka Douhan, how did she end up here? Saruhiko almost wished he could collect all the information about this place, create the ultimate cheat guide to death and the afterlife, but he suspected it was a lot more complicated than necessary, and not worth the effort. No one would believe any of this crap unless they experienced it themselves.

Douhan probably wasn't as important as Munakata and Mikoto, that much he could guess, but she had to be essential in some way. Who knew the underworld would consist of checks and balances, and if it was true, what others were there, and how did they come to be? He supposed those were just the mysteries that simple humans would never know the answers to.

In this moment, it wasn't important to him, so he disregarded it all in favor of focusing on what she would mean for their situation.

"U-um," Misaki finally managed to force out, still not looking at the deity in front of them in favor of the ground. "Where are we? W-what is this sh--stuff?"

She shrugged, way less proper than Munakata, yet not as careless as Mikoto. What a contrast, it seemed she would only be explaining things shortly, and only when asked. "We just call it the registry." And there was that we again. This was going to be annoying.

"Registry?"

"Every time someone dies, we have to keep track of it. The higher ups file it away, keeping tabs on the cause of death and other details of the person's life. Since you're here, I'm sure you already know that."

The image of the waiting room, of the white haired young man who glided across the infinite rows of files, flashed through Saruhiko's mind. Absentmindedly, he watched Misaki hesitantly approach a pile again, picking up a stuffed animal which let loose a good amount of dust. Saruhiko's stomach twisted uncomfortably, like his mind had connected the dots enough to have a clear picture of where they were. Keeping track of...

"However, my coworkers and I keep tabs on things a little differently."

Yeah, not good.

Misaki seemed to get the implied meaning as well, without having to continue, judging by how his fists tightened around the animal.

Douhan simply continued, like it was business as usual. "When someone passes, an object which they held as significant in their life is placed here."

To rot.

Misaki gasped, clutching the toy tighter in what was most likely shock. Saruhiko couldn't say he felt any different. Though he usually tried to not worry about such things, or preoccupy himself with concern for those he didn't know, he recognized the 'registry' as something unintentionally (he assumed) cruel. Also...now everything seemed much more personal, more pitiful than he was really used to experiencing. Old glasses, books, toys, things which belonged to people who had met their end, banished to a dark, cold cave to never be seen again. What was the point of it? It seemed almost malicious, throwing items which people had held special into a giant mess where they no longer stood out apart from the millions of others. Tons of baby blankets, hundreds of books, instruments...All personal, all turned pathetic.

"It's a graveyard." It was the closest thing he could think of, but no, in truth it was probably worse. More like a mass grave.

"It's impractical is what it is." Douhan crossed her arms in front of her, glancing out across the infinite piles like she had grown used to them long ago. "It's a waste of space and we don't benefit from it. We could keep track of deaths a million other ways, but my associate insisted on being sentimental. Something about 'preservation in the face of change' or something similar." She paused then, like she was thinking, reforming her words in her head. "Hanging onto the old...it's never been like him. Maybe in a way this is in his character though, so I take what I said back. He's banishing the past to this sad little place. I don't appreciate being stuck as the caretaker though."

Preservation in the face of change...bullshit.

"That sounds like crap."

"It's messed up," Misaki's voice mumbled into the air, and Saruhiko noticed he was still clutching the toy, glaring at it with the same strength he used before fighting. "What kind of shit is that?"

Not really knowing what else to do, Saruhiko walked over to Misaki's hunched position, ghosting the tips of his fingers over his shoulder as he continued to speak to the blonde. Death of the old and sick was one thing, but Saruhiko could tell when it came to children, Misaki was particularly sensitive. "It does seem like a bit too much."

"Maybe, but it's my job, and I can't refuse." Douhan turned away from them, walking back towards a rock so she could take a seat. "It's unfair, in my life I would never do anything for free, but death makes us all pay. I suggest you move on quickly so you can live again as soon as possible."

Well, that was the goal, and Saruhiko would've gladly left her right then, not wanting to prolong this adventure more than he had to. But of course, nothing was so simple. There had to be a reason they were here. It wouldn't exist otherwise, and he'd learned regardless that things down here rarely happened by chance.

"What was the point then?"

Douhan's eyes snapped up to meet his, not surprised but...resigned, like she didn't want to answer but she knew eventually she had to.

"Excuse me?"

Saruhiko clicked his tongue, something he hadn't done in a while, but the familiarity definitely wasn't making him feel better. "Why bring us here to see this? If it's not a trial, what's the point?"

Misaki stood up at his words, dropping the stuffed animal slowly as they waited. The toy plopped softly, a small puff of dust coming from it.

"Oh. It's a reminder, I guess."

It was there again, subtle, but there, the irritation set on her face. Vaguely, Saruhiko wondered what kind of person she had been in life, for her to be so upset. She was a deity, an all knowing being of human attachment and ambition, yet it appeared it hadn't been voluntary.

"Reminder?" Misaki's voice was hesitant, but at least he'd gotten over the embarrassment from before, the anger from moments before overpowering all else.

Douhan sighed, reaching up to mess with the bow atop her head. "My associate believes that it's necessary for you to have a reality check before continuing on. I don't see the point though, obviously the fact that you're this far in the journey must mean you already have resolve."

Resolve. The word made him think back to the start of all this, to his disdain and reluctance, the denial and fear he'd felt before getting to know Misaki, before really embracing himself, as stupid as it sounded. Resolve had been something he'd always lacked, but hearing about it now, he had no doubt he possessed it, would have to, to be crazy enough to believe he could make it out of this.

"But...well, maybe it is wise for you to get a good sense of the magnitude of death as a whole, not just your own." She hesitated then, biting her lip to contain a bitter smile, before the stoic nature was back, final and intense.

"Don't ignore this, look around, take it in. It's best not to be careless from this point on, don't take your chances for granted. It's foolish not to attain your goals, to not achieve the benefits. Many people, better people than you and me have met their ends, some very untimely, without the chance to do as much." Douhan pointed to the heaps calmly, and they couldn't help but follow her hand. "It would be useless for you to forget that. You're right, this is a graveyard. Don't become part of it too soon."

--

She walked with them, following silently behind them as they explored the mess. They avoided stepping on any of the items, especially Misaki, mostly out of respect for the owners.

"If you see anything useful, there's no rule that says you cannot take it. It will be returned here regardless." Douhan's voice had a gentler edge to it, like she could read the atmosphere between them. Her words may have well been for nothing though, because no way did he want to take anything from this place.

For one, whenever they touched something, the emotions of the previous owner flooded into them, and that was certainly would not be pleasant for a prolonged period of time, and well...

"I don't want to take anything without permission," Misaki whispered, stepping over a set of old books.

The blonde didn't reply, understanding the underlying meaning there. Taking things which had once been important to someone else, it felt like it added more insult to injury. Saruhiko didn't believe much in karma or anything similar, but it creeped him out enough for him to avoid it.

He was basically ready to go. There was no point for them to be there if they weren't going to take anything, but maybe they were curious, or maybe they were just thankful for the slight break. Saruhiko was walking behind Misaki, letting him do most of the navigating. The redhead's shoulders were tense, his gaze searching, analyzing everything in a way that was rare to see outside of threatening situations.

Saruhiko felt a bit out of his element. Misaki was so emotional and stiff because it was a sentimental place, full of personal belongings and attachments. The redhead was naturally predisposed to feel empathy, but Saruhiko was not. It wasn't completely nonexistent, but it made him feel awkward and comfortable, so he wanted to shy away. All the people who had died, represented by these miscellaneous things, he had no connection to them, no reason to mourn. Yet, he was no different than them. One day, he'd be nothing more than an item in a registry, a reminder.

For once, something unpleasant itched inside him at the thought of being so forgettable.

"I wonder what ours will be," Misaki spoke up, and Saruhiko's head snapped up to find him. The shorter had stopped now, at the foot of one of the bigger hills of things, in front of a few CDs, a jewelry box, and a pile of wedding rings. "I can't think of anything, I mean there's my paintings...and stuff from my mom and siblings but I dunno..."

Something significant...something one holds dear....

Now that he had to think about it, Saruhiko couldn't picture it either. What did he even use in his daily life that was important? His laptop. No, that couldn't be it. Yet all the 'sentimental' things didn't feel great enough. If he didn't complete this journey, what would characterize him in an eternal tomb?

"I don't know either."

"It would be impressive if you did," Douhan said, turning her head towards the way they'd come from, back to the path they'd eventually need to resume on. "But if I were you, I wouldn't worry about it. I'd only hope I wouldn't find out for a long time."

Saruhiko was pleased to see Misaki actually crack a smile at that, the one which spoke nothing but determination, and Saruhiko thought vaguely that yes, they wouldn't know for a long long time.

"Right!" Misaki walked up to him, tugging lightly on Saruhiko's wrist to turn him around. ah, so it was time to go after all. No more breaks. "We still have lots of time!"

Saruhiko didn't pull away or scoff as the redhead dragged him forward, too focused on the warmth and unlikely truth of the words.

As they trekked back towards the beginning, Douhan led them along a slightly less cluttered route, and Saruhiko noticed the section of the room held items a bit more dated, lots of them before his time or no longer used. It was interesting, seeing attachments across lifetimes, all equated in death.

Misaki gasped at some of the older looking relics for reasons Saruhiko wasn't aware of, though maybe they just looked cool. The redhead was muttering things under his breath as well, but Saruhiko was too busy taking in everything to pay much attention to the gibberish.

Something twinkled in Saruhiko's peripheral vision, and he stopped, turning to see a few items which stood out on the side of the room. For one, they were seated upon a flat slab, like they were somehow more important than the rest, and they looked less beaten up than the others.

He'd halted, and the blonde leading them noticed, turning to watch Saruhiko analyze the slab. "We keep those separate for...historical purposes."

Historical purposes was as shitty as it got when it came to reasons, but Saruhiko didn't feel the need to ask in that moment.

"What are they?" Misaki followed after the taller, looking across the objects. Some were old gold coins, armor, and other similar things which may as well have come right out of a history museum. However, it was two items in particular that seemed to stand out the most, one of which had Saruhiko's fingers itching. The first was a pair of sapphire cuff links, shiny and obviously crafted with a lot of care, and the other...

His eyes homed in on them, and well, it was almost embarrassing, but he'd never gotten over his fascination with them. Atop the slab sat a pair of exquisite throwing knives, obviously expensive and well made, and his hands reached up.

"Saruhiko?" Misaki watched as the taller approached the slab, and Saruhiko turned to make sure touching them was okay and not a death sentence. Douhan nodded, a bit amused, and Saruhiko was thankful for the green light.

Saruhiko held the daggers, sleek and jagged, like a pro, despite his lack of practice in the past five years. He'd never used these kind of throwing knives either, so his aim was probably shit, but at least his reflexes were somewhat sharp and he had a basic knowledge of how to handle them. He twirled the knives effortlessly, liking the feel of cool metal and weightlessness. As depressing as his life had felt before the age of eighteen, learning the rare skill had given him a sense of peace and stability, if only for a moment in the tumultuous time. Looking back on it now made him feel weird, like he was in some cheesy book where he was reflecting on how far he'd come. He didn't know about all that, but the knives did make him feel more put together. 

What was more rewarding than finding the knives themselves was the look on Misaki's face. It was on of admiration and amazement, a gaze Saruhiko was definitely not used to being the focus of, but he couldn't hate it in the slightest. But soon, the wide eyed look twitched, morphing into one of confusion as the amber pools began to analyze the daggers in a way Saruhiko had never seen before. It was as if...Misaki was calculating some sort of problem.

It was annoying, not the look itself, but the fact that it made heat rush to Saruhiko's face like a switch had been flipped.

It...was definitely not a bad look.

"Hey Saru...those daggers...can I see?" Misaki's voice sounded eager, his hands already reaching up towards the other's hands. 

Saruhiko actually hesitated from the intensity in those eyes, like Misaki had cracked some kind of code Saruhiko hadn't been aware of, and wordlessly, the taller slid the daggers carefully into the other's hands, feeling the callouses brush over his skin and linger a bit too long.

"T-thanks!" Misaki's flush probably mirrored his own, Saruhiko figured.

Shaking off whatever thoughts were in his head, Misaki's eyes focused on the daggers, examining them closely with nimble fingers, impressive considering all he'd put those hands through. Still, he was delicate, treating them like an ancient relic which could crumble in his palms at any moment, never to be seen again. The redhead's thumb moved gently over the handle of the blade, focusing on the insignia which was etched into it.

Saruhiko didn't recognize it, he'd figured it was some sort of foreign brand or a personal touch from the previous owner, but paying closer attention...

It was the size of a small coin, and resembled a family seal, not unlike those put on official documents and letters. With the majority of the blade being black and grey, it shone red, the small design, which Saruhiko could now distinguish as a flame of some sort, stood out proudly on the dark material. The flames curled elegantly, reminding him of the ones on Misaki's fingertips, but otherwise, Saruhiko couldn't see why Misaki was so entranced by it.

Maybe he just thought it looked--

"Suoh Dynasty."

Saruhiko squinted, caught off guard by the sudden declaration, only to be robbed of all air by the triumphant expression on the other's face. The...what?

"Huh?"

Misaki grinned, eyes going wider as he pushed the dagger into Saruhiko's field of vision, pointing to the insignia. "It's from the Suoh Dynasty! I studied history remember...mm...but--this wasn't my favorite period but, it was cool! Er..."

Yet you still managed to date it.

Saruhiko felt strangely warm, and he didn't like it. Or, he didn't really know how he felt about it.

Misaki was not fazed by the hand Saruhiko brought up to cover his own mouth. The taller could feel some sort of unwarranted grin coming on, and no way was he going to let that slip. The redhead just kept nodding to himself, too swept up in the discovery to notice the taller's actions right away.

Ah right, a response.

"So it's old?"

"Well...duh," Misaki said, bringing a hand to rub at the back of his neck. "It's not really important but it's just kinda cool! That kingdom was known for making weapons and being a main trading post and stuff, but not many artifacts are left anymore."

Saruhiko grabbed the dagger curiously, twirling it easily between his fingers. So it's rare huh?

He noticed Misaki's excited expression, and damn, the warmth wouldn't go away. It wasn't as if he thought Misaki was dumb anymore, but seeing him showcase the fact was something else.

Saruhiko did his best to focus. He glanced back to the blade in his hand, watched the insignia glisten with a quality that didn't suit a supposed relic. Then there was the feeling too...The daggers weren't too different from everything else in the room, when he focused on it, all the emotions trapped inside it flowed into him, and he shivered. Whoever had owned these had felt many things, but the main ones were rage, calm, and anguish. An interesting mix, and one Saruhiko didn't feel like experiencing longer than he had to. He set it down on the rock again. "Why did the kingdom die out?"

Misaki perked up, thinking to himself. "It just kinda happened? Shit, I hated this test question, there's a lot to it...but basically the crown prince disappeared and was never found, and then there was a war for...whatever it's called...succession!"

"Unfortunately," Douhan interrupted, drawing their attention back. "Those are the only items you can't take."

"For historical purposes?"

He didn't miss the way her lips twitched upwards a little. "For 'keeping my job' purposes. It's either this or having to associate with the others, and while this is boring, it's not torture."

A shame. The daggers were the only things Saruhiko actually would've found useful.

"But," she spoke again, reaching into her pack to rummage through it. A few questionable things spilled out, darts, unlabeled vials, some regular knives, a mishmash of weaponry.

He almost considered asking why a deity such as herself needed all that stuff, but for some reason he felt it wasn't the best idea. Eventually, she pulled out two sleek, silver handled daggers, and held them forward, locking eyes with Saruhiko. "If you think they'd be of help, you can have mine."

--

There was a weak feeling of encouragement in Douhan's goodbye. She hadn't exactly said ' do your best' or 'stay strong,' but she'd bowed to them, and told them to keep their guard up.

It was like she knew what was coming, and if Saruhiko thought about it, she probably did. Misaki had stuttered a thank you, and they'd left her behind. Saruhiko could tell Misaki had a lot of unanswered questions for her, but ones which weren't necessary to their task or journey, so they were saved. Misaki had bit his tongue, blushing and dumbly declaring how they'd be victorious and that their items would be 'super cool' in sixty or seventy years, and she'd better not forget it. Saruhiko had clicked his tongue, dragging the other away. The goodbye was pretty useless in his mind. Besides, Saruhiko had a feeling they would see her again.

But, not for a long time.

Until then, his ultimate cheat guide for death and the afterlife would have to wait. At the thought, Saruhiko clutched Douhan's knives in his palm.

They walked deeper into the cave, and for once, Saruhiko felt like they weren't in the middle of a perilous journey. He asked Misaki more about his history knowledge, about what his favorite eras were, about the relics he'd been muttering about, and in return Misaki commented on his skills with the daggers, about what he thought his item would be if he had to guess. They talked and talked, sometimes about stupid things, frivolous things too light for the situation they were in, but it all felt so natural, being with Misaki.

Misaki had been in the middle of telling a particularly embarrassing story from his high school days, which Saruhiko couldn't help but snort at as Misaki lost his voice to laughter and yelling on behalf of his humiliation, and their voices had eventually faded out into the silence.

It was comfortable at first, a normal, cozy quiet which didn't hold any dread or fear. But of course, that couldn't last.

Saruhiko hadn't noticed the change at first, too preoccupied with the warmth surging through him to pay attention to Misaki's steps becoming slower, until he was lagging behind.

But Saruhiko realized Misaki must've been looking at him, he could feel it, the familiar warmth of the gaze burning at the back of his head, and he spun to meet the eyes with his own when he realized the other wasn't beside him. As lame as it was, it was exhilarating each time, because with so much emotion locked in those irises, he didn't know what to expect. It made him anxious, excited too, what would it be, how would Misaki be looking at him?

Saruhiko met the gaze, and felt his entire body stiffen. There was something he'd realized along the journey with the redhead, and it was that he was gradually beginning to pinpoint even the most complex emotions locked in his expressions. He didn't always understand them, but this time there was no confusing it, and all Saruhiko could think was, ah, so something's not right.

Misaki's face was confused, on edge, and he kept tilting his head back and forth, as if straining for...

"Hey...what's that noise?" Misaki's eyes roamed frantically about their surroundings, voice more hushed than before, on guard, and Saruhiko almost thought the redhead might've been losing it. That face though... "There! Saruhiko listen!"

What--

But then there it was. It was so faint, and at first, it barely registered over the sound of dripping water. Saruhiko had to strain to hear it, but once he did, it seemed it was the only thing he was aware of. It was a light, flapping sound, clumsy and getting quicker by the second. As it sped up, it was amplified by the cave's walls, deafening. As if it was something coming towards them rapidly.

He tensed immediately, shifting a step closer to Misaki. No, he couldn't lose sight of him in this place in the face of the unknown. But what is it now?

Saruhiko combed his mind for answers, but instinct took over, and that instinct was panic. There were the obvious guesses of course. Birds? Some sort of aerial attack? But in the end, nothing mattered over the fact the noise presented a potential danger. It wouldn't be out of the question, given what they'd been through, who knew what other creatures existed in this place.

Damn it.

One trial right after the next...he was foolish to think they'd be allowed a rest. "Misaki, a light!"

The knife had slid into his palm before he'd even finished the sentence. Was his aim even that great anymore? He could only hope. He looked at Misaki, the split second agreement they always shared. 'I've got your back.'

Misaki glared upwards into the darkness, hand illuminating the air above them as the approaching sounds seemed to reach a high point, and then--

Silence.

It had stopped, and Saruhiko nearly choked on the sharp intake of breath he'd taken in preparation for...

For what...?

Both of them searched the ceiling of the cave above them, every noticeable crevice, Misaki illuminating every shadow. There was nothing there. Nothing visible, but, maybe assuming it would be had been his mistake. Saruhiko felt a different sensation on the back of his neck, cold, calculating. It wasn't the same as when Misaki stared, but it was still coming from behind him. Shit! Saruhiko rushed his next actions, but he'd realized it too late. He managed to gasp, grabbing Misaki by the arm to spin them both around until they were facing the end of the path. Unaware of what else to do or what he was about to see, he raised the knife, just as Misaki lit up the space around them.

All panic nearly died within him...sort of. It was replaced with puzzlement and maybe even...annoyance. Oh how he'd missed being able to feel that emotion so wholeheartedly.

In front of them, perched calmly on a slab of rock, was a parrot. A fucking parrot.

Saruhiko felt a spectrum of emotions in that moment, maybe more than he had in his entire life, and none were pleasant.

"The...hell?" Misaki seemed to feel the same, but regardless, he pushed harder into Saruhiko's back, always prepared for the worst.

Right, maybe it's a disguise of some sort...

There was a loud, sudden squawk, something Saruhiko might've recognized from a cheesy pirate movie, not nearly as majestic as the sound of gulls or hawks. It shattered the tense atmosphere, the stupid noise the bird made, and Saruhiko dropped his arm and the knife.

Both he and Misaki exhaled, stepping a few steps back from the strange, oddly perched animal, not yet taking their eyes of it.

It was a bird but...

"Why is it staring like that?" Misaki had a point. The creature was...upsetting somehow. Not exactly in a threatening or violent way, but it was creepily focused on them, the unblinking blue eyes squinting almost in judgement. Saruhiko couldn't tell for sure either, but there was something almost smug in its gaze, if that was even possible. He might've chastised himself for the childish thought, it was a dumb bird after all, but...

"Ch, that damn thing is creeping me out!" Misaki shouted, waving a cautious hand in front of the bird in an effort to scare it away. "Shoo! Fucking move! Move!" Misaki had resorted to stomping his feet at that point, and the taller figured he'd seen enough.

"Misaki...I don't think it cares," Saruhiko mumbled, stepping a bit closer to the animal once he saw it wasn't lashing out at the redhead.

"Well it should! Stupid parrot! I swear it's laughing at us, you can tell!"

Saruhiko bit his lip. Ah, so you noticed too.

Or it could just be Misaki being too imaginative, which wasn't unlikely, but...

The parrot's head tilted to the side at the words, making it look as if it was genuinely smiling, like it knew something they didn't. It pissed Saruhiko right off.

He raised his knife again, prepared to tap the bird a bit. Maybe touching it would get a reaction, besides...

"It's standing at the end," Saruhiko said with irritation, and Misaki grunted, realizing the meaning behind the bird's perch. It was where the continuation of the path should've been, where the cobble stone ended, right on top of the stupid rock.

The path stopped at the damn bird, and he'd only just noticed.

"What...why?"

"Don't know, but it must mean something." Saruhiko moved forward, knife coming inches away from the bird's beak. Nothing ever happens by coincidence here.

Just a bit closer...

"How perceptive."

Saruhiko lurched back when the bird spoke, colliding lightly into Misaki's chest as the other began to stutter profusely, all the while the taller refused to take his wide eyes off the animal. The bird sat calmly as ever, the ruckus it had caused not bothering its perch in the slightest. In fact, the green feathers ruffled lightly, and Saruhiko could swear it was laughing.

Saruhiko almost growled, but didn't dare approach. Right, nothing in this place could be normal could it?

"D-demon parrot!" Misaki's words hardly phased the bird, and it continued on in the same, calm tone, neck twisting every which way with its words.

"The both of you have done very well up until this point. I am quite impressed. It's not often that I get to greet Returners."

This point?

They stood at a standstill for several moments, and Saruhiko was at least thankful things weren't as eerily quiet as before, what with Misaki screaming about 'demons.' But Saruhiko supposed that wouldn't be far from the truth, given where they were.

The parrot waited as Misaki fumed, making no menacing or even slight motions. Calm, calculating. Saruhiko felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, calling this thing a bird was probably inaccurate.

When it appeared that no danger would come from the parrot or anything around them, Saruhiko slowly slid the knife back into his sleeve, remaining rigid with Misaki's grip on his shoulders.

The words echoed in his head, both Douhan's and the bird's.

Making it this far...

Saruhiko dared not get his hopes up, however...

"Hey," Misaki said with a glare, the annoyance thick in his tone, like he couldn't quite fathom yet that he was talking to a bird, even after everything they'd seen. "You said this point? You make it sound like we're close or some shit. So did the scary lady!"

Right. Close to the end, close to hell. Saruhiko shuddered, and he felt Misaki's fingertips press more firmly onto the lines of tension which were now prominent. It was comforting, but it didn't take away from the fear completely.

"That was my intention. However, you face one last...evaluation." The parrot's feathers ruffled again, causing a few to fall to the cave floor, and Saruhiko squinted. "We should be moving along, time doesn't like to be kept waiting."

What the hell kind of expression is that?

More importantly, the bird was offering a next step of sorts, whether or not it was trustworthy was a separate issue entirely. Another trial? It didn't surprise him, after all, that's what they'd been doing all along. So, what was with the bird? Why was it necessary for it to greet them? Why was it where the path should be?

He guessed it would be explained, after all, he hadn't known what Douhan's purpose was either, but everything seemed to be interlocked, and it pissed him right off.

Saruhiko could simply infer that the last trial was special in a way the others weren't, which also explained why Douhan's 'reminder' had been needed, but something still had him on edge. Not to mention, the entire time they'd been in the cave, they hadn't heard Munakata's voice even once. For a man who would rarely shut up, it was concerning. "Evaluation? Why not just let us walk into it ourselves, if it’s another trial?"

Suddenly, the bird's wings extended outward, in preparation for flight, and the gleam in its eye telling Saruhiko he had asked the right question. Whether or not he'd regret it, he didn't know. "This one is a bit different, conducted by me personally. You will need to follow."

"Um, I can't fly."

Ah yes, Misaki never failed to lighten any serious atmosphere. In the beginning, it had really annoyed Saruhiko, but now it was rather needed. Especially this close to the end. Saruhiko's fists clenched at the thought, one that had been gradually settling over him as they made progress. The end, the future...life. Would Misaki still be the same after all this, would Saruhiko? Would their lives go back to normal once they returned? The logical answer was probably not. Ghosts, regrets, insecurities, immeasurable burdens which they'd been forced to encounter and overcome. They'd seen things no one else could dream about, had run for their lives and contemplated death. No, lifting that weight was impossible. They'd both be stuck with these horrors, these memories forever. But even with that...some childish, unrealistic side of Saruhiko wanted Misaki to stay Misaki.

"I think it means we should walk below it," Saruhiko informed calmly, and Misaki nodded in understanding, a soft 'I knew that' escaping his lips.

Yes, Misaki should always be like this.

"Well then," the bird spoke, "shall we?"

--

The walk through the cave was shockingly pleasant, the ground had flattened out, and other than hopping over the occasional crevice, it was without exertion. The bird had also ceased to speak, flying calmly above. When Saruhiko attempted to talk to it again, all he received was a unintelligible squawk, and some repeated words from his question, like the parrot was suddenly a normal creature. Huh....

The mood had certainly changed, the layer of confusion which had settled over them was present, but the silence between he and Misaki was comfortable, both stewing in their own thoughts.

Saruhiko took the time to reflect, as he liked to do. They were walking to a trial, the last trial before...

Saruhiko didn't know how to feel. Afraid? Proud? It all seemed too one dimensional.

Being close to the end, it was something he wouldn't have considered possible when they'd first stepped on the black cobblestone path back in heaven, wouldn't have even entertained the idea. But now...

He felt a wide range, a mixture, an unidentifiable concoction of emotions, as if one couldn't be pinpointed without calling out another. He was fearful of stepping into hell, relieved he had made it there at all...happy...happy to be there with Misaki. It was all there, swirling inside him.

He looked down, watching as Misaki's fingers came to wrap around his own, a comfort by now, typical of the two of them. Misaki was weird. He made Saruhiko feel invincible, like they could do anything together.

Saruhiko honestly didn't know if he would have survived the first trial without the redhead, but he knew he'd helped Misaki quite a lot himself as well. There was an unmistakable balance there that he didn't understand, but he wouldn't give it up for anything. Clinging to things...it had never been something he afforded himself. It was a fool's decision, hanging onto things which could be taken from you, that's what he used to think.

Things had changed a lot since he'd grown up a little, even more since he'd met Misaki, and for whatever reason little things...certain emotions and gestures, weren't getting to him as much in a negative sense. He was getting worse at pushing them away, like he simply didn't have the motive for it any longer. The flush of his skin when Misaki looked at him, the encouraging grins and words, the undeniable twisting of his stomach which made his head spin in terribly cliche ways...he was rejecting those feelings less and less. He was like a damn love-struck idiot, and the fact he even so much as recognized that was telling. Maybe it wasn't only Misaki either, maybe it was also his stupid co-workers buying him those candles he hated the smell of when one burned out, or bringing him coffee when he'd overworked. Maybe it was Seri forcing him to go home and sleep, or him helping her plan the wedding though he always denied wanting to, but still showed up to every rehearsal and dinner. It could've been Enomoto's dumb inspirational post cards and unnecessary work parties.

It was probably all of it, and more. Details and moments he'd never cared to really remember or acknowledge before his death.

The anxiety would bubble up when he would think of the care and the concern the people around him gave, but it never stayed long, and he didn't know what to do about it. He found himself drowning in the pleasant waves of emotion more than he fought them. Any normal person would say it was a good thing, great even, becoming a better version of himself (if he could actually claim that), but as logical as it was, it was difficult to let all those years of neglect and solitude fade away, disintegrate before his eyes. In truth, he didn't know how to handle being happy.

Happy.

He clicked his tongue, and Misaki finally glanced at him, puzzled. "Saruhiko, what is it?"

Nothing. Everything.

"Honestly, in the middle of a journey to hell..." Saruhiko grimaced, if more for the circumstances than the realization itself.

"Huh?"

Death, awful trials, a grueling journey, the potential promise of eternal hell...he'd gone through all that, was still going through all that, only to realize he was...

"...happy," Misaki's voice cut through Saruhiko's thoughts, and the taller was almost afraid he'd spoken aloud.

"What?"

It wasn't the case however, since Misaki began to sputter at the question, breaking their hold as he tried to formulate an explanation. “I-I mean...mm...I'm happy! Not happy like...man this has been a great time because it like...sucked. This whole journey was awful! But, not the being with you part! Just--"

Saruhiko's eyes widened as if his mind had already grasped Misaki's words without knowing what they'd be for sure.

"Doing all these awful things, being so scared, made me realize I...I love my friends and family, I love taking risks and creating things! It made me think that...I don't want to be scared anymore, or hold back once I am back to living. I dunno, I think I took a lot of shit for granted before is all..."

Misaki's face scrunched up, typical of when he was trying to piece his words together carefully, because delivery was everything. Saruhiko nearly laughed, because he knew the redhead would still end up sputtering or reiterating his meaning dozens of times, and the taller didn't even care. Misaki should stay Misaki.

"I mean it's fucking hard, to let everything you've always been...weird about? Or! Scared about I mean, it feels wrong to let it all go but, I can't help it? Yeah. I can't help it, and it's awesome!"

To think, someone who wasn't particularly gifted or fancy with words, could captivate Saruhiko completely with them. Saruhiko couldn't respond properly, his only thoughts being repetitive and simple. Me too. Exactly.

"So I'm happy you know? That even with all the fucked up shit we went through, all the stuff I won't forget...I'm at least happy it made me realize how much I value even the dumbest stuff about my life."

Right. Even the dumbest stuff.

Saruhiko glared from his own understanding, and again, he didn't know how to handle this at all. It wasn't as if he had a choice anymore though, it wasn't like before, where he could shut things down, expel them or seal them off somewhere in the deepest reaches of his mind. He had no control, he couldn't fight it, and he guessed...who would?

"Saruhiko, um, before this happens, I have to t-tell you something." For whatever reason, Saruhiko's stomach twisted again, and while he knew what it meant now, it didn't make things any more pleasant. His usual instinct to avoid the conversation or simply shut down was no longer present however, and he'd have to get used to that too he supposed. Annoying.

Misaki's face only made his palms sweat more, though it was from anticipation more than anxiety. The redhead's face was more flushed than Saruhiko had ever seen it, and he had his face fixed on the parrot above them as it flew down and through a smaller section of the cavern, forcing the both of them to crouch down a bit as they walked. It was like a tunnel, only illuminated by some sort of green gems lining the surface. Gaudy. It looked artificial too, carved out, almost like a path. He could still hear the bird flying above them, and he had a feeling they were getting close.

It only made the anticipation worse. "What is it?" He cursed himself for how weak his voice sounded.

Even with the tinge of green light, Saruhiko could tell Misaki was blushing even more. "S-shut up! I'm trying to word it right!"

Seriously. "It can't be that bad..."

"It's not bad at all jerk! At least, I hope not."

Misaki was going to be the end of him, and problem was he didn't mind. God, being more open about shit was so stupid, why did people embrace this? Idiots.

Maybe you should say something first.

Saruhiko silenced the voice in his head. Yeah, no. He wasn't quite at that level yet.

In fact, Saruhiko didn't know what Misaki was going to say, only had a faint idea, and he should've cursed himself for being so hopeful.

He'd only recently come to terms with how he felt about everything, about Misaki, and now he was expecting those feelings to be mirrored. Expectations were dangerous, that's what he'd normally remind himself. It simply wasn't working though, so he kept walking, staring at the tunnel walls like they were the very bane of his existence.

But...would it be so bad to speak up too? No. No, no. He wasn't doing--

"Ugh! It's just, how do I put it?!" Misaki finally yelled, his words way louder than necessary, the parrot above them actually stumbled a bit mid-flight from the echoing of the cave walls. "Your face!"

Saruhiko, had he been in any other normal circumstance, would've stopped in his tracks, thoroughly confused.

What.

He hadn't exactly expected eloquence, but what?

Misaki's eyes were ablaze though, frustrated but confident, like he'd totally made sense.

Saruhiko rarely found himself dumbfounded, or at a loss for at the very least, a half-assed response, but of course, Misaki made him experience all kinds of new things.

"...my face?"

"Yeah."

Saruhiko was going to hurt him, not too bad, but just enough. Saruhiko inhaled, a last ditch effort to calm himself down and try to work out whatever the hell kind of response was 'your face.' "And what about it?"

"Well! It's dumb! I can't stand it, b-because--"

"You--"

"Shut up a sec and listen!" Misaki's sputtering was laced with embarrassment and anxiety, not intimidating in the slightest, but Saruhiko shut up, actually listened to what the other had to say. Not like he had much choice, Misaki would just yell over him anyways.

Well, that's what he told himself. In truth, it was the spark in Misaki's eyes, the one which always followed some stupidly delivered line or confession which would become ingrained in Saruhiko's head forever. He felt his throat go dry.

"I-I hate your face because I don't hate it! It's stupid...and ever since I met you I can't stop looking at it and ugh--you! You don't deserve it because you're the worst! The absolute fucking worst because you can't just come into my life--death? Whatever, you can't just come in all of a sudden and be all cool and awesome and see me cry a-and go through all this with me. B-because..."

Because...

Saruhiko was going to die again, for some reason that's how he felt. It wasn't natural, for his pulse to be this fast, his skin this clammy. Something was wrong, something had to be wrong. Nothing felt wrong about anything though, and his only want in that moment was for Misaki to keep talking, no matter how much all Saruhiko's past instincts told him to run and not hear it.

"Because, now that you're here--fuck I dunno, I don't ever want you to not be."

There it was.

Did he even find it surprising, deep down? Mirrored feelings.

No, he was surprised, not so much by the confession itself, not by the strange delivery either, but calmness, the warmth which swept over him as soon as Misaki had finished speaking.

Maybe more so than that too, was the need for Misaki's eyes on him, and Saruhiko's own struggle to formulate a response. It was a simple task, looking at it logically. There were a number of ways he could reply, some better than others.

'I feel the same.'

'I want to stay.'

'You're everything.'

The words all felt heavy on his tongue, and while a physical response wouldn't be out of the question either, he could hardly fathom how he was still walking at this point.

So stupid, so lame, and yet...

He spared a glance at Misaki, and he could already tell he was taking too long for the redhead's liking to reply. The shorter's eyes were glaring at his feet as they walked, fists clenching and then relaxing quickly, like he didn't know what to do with them anymore now that he wasn't holding Saruhiko's hand, and maybe that realization was the final straw which got him moving.

The taller grabbed the other's hand without thinking of it, and said what seemed appropriate at the time. "I hate your face too, stupid."

The way Misaki's breath catches, Saruhiko can't handle it, he looks away. "Your expressions...they're bright and annoying, they take up everything and I can't see anything else. Your personality too, bright, annoying..."

The hand around his is warm.

"Determined, strong..."

Breathtaking. He swallows, and as the last train of thought is blurted out, he drops his voice to nothing more than a mumble. "I refuse to be without any of that."

And he means it. He doesn't waver about the resolution he feels. Staying with Misaki...

Carefully, he drags his eyes to Misaki, unsure of what he'd see. But ah, at this point, was there any reason to be so cautious about these things?

Saruhiko's hand tightened around Misaki's when he sees the other's face, the redhead's eyes as they snapped to meet his own, and that was that.

Ah, the look in them now, fiery and passionate in a completely different way than during a trial or after they got past one. It was new, and Saruhiko was afraid to make assumptions. 

All he knew was some instinct of his, some concealed part of him, wanted to be on the receiving end of that look forever.

Grasping things tightly, wanting to keep something for himself...

If it was a fool's decision, then he supposed he'd choose to be a fool.

--

When the bird stopped flying, there was a door. The Deja vu which set in was really too strong for Saruhiko's liking.

He let his hand drop Misaki's, glancing at the crappy looking thing which was barely hanging onto its hinges. He'd seen it before of course. It was not unlike the one back at the beginning of their journey, where the horrors had begun. It resonated that same, intimidating aura, like it was the only thing standing between them and peril. In fact, it was almost worse this time, a bit more ominous, yet there was a strange calm which enveloped them as they turned to the bird which had led them all this way.

The parrot sat perched on a rock, head tilted at them, angled towards the door.

This is it. The last trial.

There was an odd sense of peace, of unexpected familiarity as Saruhiko looked up at the top of the door, where naturally, there was an inscription once again, the characters shifting until they were understandable to the both of them.

'To fate.'

Yes, it was almost exactly like the first door.

This time though, neither of them hesitated, neither of them looked frightened or regretful. The flight instinct Saruhiko had felt way back at the first door was gone, and when he looked to Misaki's face, only resolve was there.

"We swear to attempt this journey together.”

He couldn't exactly go back on those words now could he?

With one final exchange between them, Saruhiko opened the door.