#Cleaning Company Caroline Springs

[desertdollranch]

Kirsten's bedroom renovation

It's a sunny spring day in Minnesota Territory, and Kirsten is stuck indoors, helping with the spring cleaning. Her first task is to sweep the upstairs bedrooms--she shares one with her three siblings, and so it gets messy very quickly. But Kirsten doesn't complain--she remembers her previous home, a one-room log cabin on her aunt and uncle's farm. That was easier to clean, but it was hard sharing such a small place with six people. After a fire burned that cabin down, the Larsons bought a much larger house, the beautiful home they dreamed they'd have when they left Sweden two years ago.

As for my part in this, I created a bedroom for my Kirsten doll a few years ago, but I recently renovated it to make it look more like the illustrations in Kirsten's sixth book, Changes for Kirsten.

The walls in this illustration look like they've been finished with plaster, which was common in houses at the time. The light color would have come from local sources of limestone.

So most of the changes I made were to the walls and windows. I used printed photographs for the windows, and added the twelve-pane window frames over the images before printing. For the walls, I took down the boring white wood paneling. I imitated that plastered look using tissue paper stuck to the first layer of pale yellow paint, and then I painted another layer over the tissue paper.

The furnishings are basically the same, except for the trunk on the right side of this photo. She used to store her clothes in the top half of Felicity's clothes press, which I mentioned in my recent post about moving the clothes press into the parlor for Caroline to use. After I did that, I knew Kirsten would need a place to store her clothes, and what better piece than a smaller version of her trunk?

Most of the things in the above picture are not from Kirsten's collection. The bed was made by my grandpa when I was eight and first got my Kirsten doll. My mom made the quilt on the bed and the one on the rocking chair, the pillow and mattress on the bed, and the two darker gray cats. The foot stove next to the bed is Pleasant Company, and so are the shoes (including snow shoes) lined up next to the trunk. The rocking chair came from an antique store. I made everything else: both rugs, the cradle, the nightstand, the candle and book and stuffed cat on the nightstand, the cross stitch hanging on the wall, the shelves and everything on them, the painted round boxes at the foot of the bed, baby Britta's dress, and Kirsten's quilt square in the embroidery hoop.

This is a little wooden trunk I found at a craft store. I painted it blue and then painted on the decorative designs using stencils.

That's Kirsten's straw hat hanging on the wall, from her collection. My mom made the two sunbonnets.

I gave it a weathered look by lightly brushing on white and red paint.

The trunk can hold all of Kirsten's clothes. It has room for a few more dresses too. I have almost all of Kirsten's clothes; I'm only missing her baking outfit, skating coat, and promise dress.

I also made the gingham curtains for the windows. There's a lot of blue and white going on in here, so I wanted them to match the color themes.

Next to Britta's cradle are the round boxes I made to hold Kirsten's socks and ribbons, which are all Pleasant Company things. Her lunch box and bucket are from craft stores.

I remade her honey crate and the jars of honey. They now contain clear glue dyed with food coloring. I made her little gnomes too.

The rocking chair was an antique store find. It's perfect for her to sit with her baby sister Britta.

I also painted a little flourish on the end of her bed.

This definitely isn't all of Kirsten's collection--I have a few pieces hidden away underneath her room that won't fit here. That includes her actual big trunk that my grandpa made, her Saint Lucia wreath and tray that I made, her dishes set from her official collection, and some other small things that she doesn't need in her room.

[circa04s]

‧ ₊ ˚ ✧ › MUSE: and without further ado, allow me to introduce shin eunbi— 19 years old, a yuseong native doing her best at trying to balance work, school, & relationships. catch her earning a quick buck & killing time at pierrot lanes front desk. you can find her also wip sobs stats page here!

when did your muse first arrive in yuseong bay? may 7th, 2004. born during a brisk springs afternoon.

what does an average day look like for your muse & where can they usually be found? juggling a full time schedule at university, alongside a part time job, isn't always easy— the commute to her classes is arduous enough, her time spent inland normal reserved only for when she needs to be on campus ( ordinarily, this mean her early mornings / middays are packed a coupe days a week ). evenings & nights are where her free time reigns, split between having to study, take on a shift at perriot lanes, or allowing herself leisure time for whatever she so chooses. weekends are a toss up— maybe she'll be at work, maybe she'll at andante in the hopes of finishing a last second assignment, maybe she'll have been dragged to the shopping district. or, maybe she's in the company of someone special.

how does your muse feel about hanhwa resort? with an appreciation for consistency, the sudden traffic brought on my the resort is something eunbi doesn't really care for. she enjoys her peace and quiet, and while she still has that to an extent, there are far more eyes to view her now than she liked.

is there an aspiration for your muse to stay in or leave yuseong bay? yuseong has always been home, a safe space that, despite the sad memories lingering everywhere she looks, makes her happy. there isn't an innate want to leave, so why would she?

list your muse’s three favorite songs. beside you — keshi. door — caroline polachek. brooklyn love — lolo zouai.

describe your muse’s wardrobe. comfortable, cozy, easy. having to juggle work, school & fun leisurely outings with friends leaves little time for eunbi to care too much about what she wears on a daily bases. she always looks put together, but in a way that looks effortless ( even if she’s running on fumes ).

what is a color, word, and emoji that you feel describes your muse? sage green, structured, 🥀.

three strong likes and dislikes for your muse.likes — clean scented laundry, the sound of rain, making deadlines. dislikes — freshly polished bowling lane smell, gossip, all-nighters.

three positive and negative traits for your muse.positives — calm, thoughtful, introverted. negatives — skeptical, stony, indifferent.

three talents and shortcomings for your muse. naturally inquisitive and always one for details, eunbis knack in terms of retaining knowledge is the saving grace of her academic career. it's never been difficult for her to study ( not that she does it in excess, she just likes to have good grades ), nor have special dates / matters of predetermined importance ever slipped her mind, making it possible to keep her ever moving life on track with little room for combustion or burnout. sensitivities towards smells, however, have been an issue since was a child— it's one of the main reasons she works at the front desk of perriot ( not only is the job easy and light on work, it's also the farthest vantage point from crowds of people gathered around strongly polished lanes making heaps of noise ).

a relevant goal or arc for your character to overcome. she doesn't know it, but deep down, eunbi would like to grow softer. it's something that, for her, is well overdue.

[expert-painter-melbourne]

Remodelling Your House: Advantages of Employing Weatherboard Painters in Caroline Springs

Let's explore the advantages of working with qualified weatherboard painters in Caroline Springs, what to look for in a painting company, and advice on selecting the ideal paint colours for your house. The distinct appeal of weatherboard dwellings embodies the spirit of Australian design. For many Caroline Springs residents, they are a popular option because of their timeless style and natural beauty. However, regular maintenance is necessary to preserve their longevity and beauty, and a new coat of paint can do wonders.

Skilled Assembly and Utilisation of High-Quality Materials

Applying a quick coat of paint or stain is not the only step in the deck painting process. Expert deck painters in Kurunjang are skilled in thoroughly cleaning, sanding, and restoring any damage to the surface. This thorough preparation is essential to guaranteeing the finish's durability. Skilled deck painters can use premium paints and stains that are made especially for outdoor use.

These treatments ensure that your deck will stay gorgeous for many years by offering superior protection against the elements, such as UV rays, condensation, and temperature changes. It might take a lot of time to paint a deck, especially if you're doing it alone. Expert painters do their tasks quickly so you may start using your outside area sooner. In order to complete the task efficiently and fast, they also have the necessary tools and equipment.

Time and Effectiveness with Care for Details

Painting a weatherboard house takes a lot of time, particularly for inexperienced homeowners. Skilled painters work quickly and effectively, guaranteeing that the task is finished on schedule without compromising quality.

Expert painters focus on the little things, making sure that every crevice is painted perfectly. In order to avoid further problems, they can also detect any spots, such as cracked boards or mould, that would require repairs before painting. Your home's kerb appeal can be greatly improved with a new coat of paint, which could raise its value.

Well-maintained homes frequently attract the attention of potential buyers, and in the crowded Caroline Springs real estate market, a professional painted job can make your weatherboard home stand out.

Source

[deerparksmashrepair]

Understanding the Process of Car Smash Repair in Caroline Springs

Accidents can happen to anyone, and when they do, understanding the car smash repair process can help ease your worries. If you’re in Caroline Springs and need car smash repair services, knowing what to expect can make the whole experience smoother. Here’s a simple guide to help you understand the process.

Initial Assessment

The first step in car smash repair is an initial assessment. When you take your car to the repair shop, technicians will examine the damage. This includes looking at visible damage and checking for any hidden issues that might affect your car’s performance.

Providing an Estimate

After the assessment, the repair shop will provide you with an estimate. This estimate outlines the cost of repairs, including parts and labor. It’s important to get this estimate in writing to avoid any surprises later on.

Insurance Approval

If you’re using insurance to cover the repair costs, the repair shop will work with your insurance company to get approval. This step is crucial as it ensures that the costs are covered and repairs can proceed without delay.

Disassembly

Once everything is approved, the repair process begins with disassembly. Technicians will take apart the damaged areas of your car to get a better look at the extent of the damage. This step helps them plan the necessary repairs accurately.

Repairing and Replacing Parts

Next, technicians will start repairing or replacing damaged parts. This might include fixing dents, replacing broken parts, and ensuring that everything fits together properly. Skilled technicians use the latest tools and techniques to ensure high-quality repairs.

Painting

After the repairs, your car may need a fresh coat of paint. This step is essential to match the repaired areas with the rest of the car. Professional painters will carefully blend the new paint with the existing color to make your car look as good as new.

Reassembly

Once the painting is done and the parts are ready, the technicians will reassemble your car. This includes putting all the parts back together and making sure everything is in its right place.

Quality Check

Before handing your car back to you, the repair shop will conduct a thorough quality check. This involves inspecting the repairs to ensure everything is done correctly and that your car is safe to drive.

Final Touches

Finally, the repair shop will clean your car and add any final touches. They might polish the exterior and make sure the interior is tidy, so your car looks and feels like new.

Conclusion

Understanding the car smash repair process can help you feel more confident when you need repairs. If you’re in Caroline Springs, Deer Park Smash Repair is your go-to choice for high-quality car smash repairs. Their experienced team uses the latest techniques and materials to ensure your car is repaired to the highest standards. Contact Deer Park Smash Repair today for expert repairs and outstanding service.

[marketing-webzone]

Being one of the leading companies in Caroline Springs, Koko Group is always ready to manage your roof cleaning Caroline Springs. If you are dealing with surface stains, ugly algae growth, then it is likely that your roof will turn into an eyesore that is reducing the overall beauty of your home.

[imagesharing26]

Affordable Junk Removal in Caroline Springs

As one of Melbourne's most trusted rubbish collection companies Junk Moovaz provides an exceptional and affordable one-stop-shop service for all your rubbish removal needs!  Whether picking up a single item like a fridge or sofa to cleaning out entire garages & offices, Junk Moovaz is the one to get your JUNK moving in a quick, professional manner.

[elitecarpetcare]

Elite Carpet Care is the company to call if you need professional carpet cleaning Caroline Springs' Western or Northern suburbs. Call Elite owner Robert Leheny at 0408 807 420 for a free carpet cleaning quote. You can also use the form on the right, and we will contact you as soon as possible

[lalainajanes]

For Klarosummerbingo! This square was "suspicious ranch hand"

Leave The Roads, Take The Trails

Two years after her mother’s passing, about twelve years after her father left, livestock begin to go missing.

The first month it’s just one, a calf that’s been struggling. They might not have noticed, except Bonnie’s been checking up on the calf every morning. Initially, Caroline’s not too concerned. She rides out with Enzo, finds a trail of blood that leads to a sagging fence, blood droplets leading into the woods. They fix it, and she assumes the problem’s solved.

Except the next month, they lose a yearling, a cow, and three of her most productive chickens. Caroline begins to grow concerned. The ranch sustains them, but she’s working hard to turn more of a profit, well aware that the salaries she’s paying Enzo and Bonnie are meager, that the temporary workers she relies on in the spring and during the harvest are far from the best of the best. Her savings are thin, and even a medium-sized disaster would obliterate them.

Caroline cleans her mother’s old shotgun, rides into town for another box of ammo, internally wincing as she passes over her coins. Every night for two weeks, she patrols, a herding dog or two at her side, ears straining for anything out of the ordinary.

The nights are quiet, cold, and uneventful.

Most mornings, she almost falls asleep into her porridge. Bonnie and Enzo try to make her go to bed, but Caroline’s not about to shirk the morning chores. The ranch bears her name, and it’s her responsibility. She grabs a nap in the afternoon, insists that she’s fine, even when her eyes are gritty and her body feels heavy with exhaustion. In the early evenings, while there’s still light, she and Enzo work on reinforcing the fences.

After two weeks with nary an issue, Caroline decides the patrols are no longer necessary and eases back into her routine.

After a particularly great night’s sleep, she bounds into the kitchen, feeling energized even though it’s her turn to make breakfast – her most hated chore. Enzo’s just coming in the backdoor, hat in hand, face grim. His shirt sleeves are rolled up, damp streaks on his jeans, which means he’d washed up in one of the rainwater barrels before coming inside.

Caroline stops abruptly while braiding back her hair. “What happened?”

“Lost a bull this time. Two of the lambs.”

Her teeth clench, and she has the urge to slam her boot heel into the floor as if she were still a child and not a grown woman of twenty-six. Caroline takes in a breath through her teeth. “Damn it; I should never have stopped patrolling.”

Enzo smiles sympathetically, tries to make a joke, “It was a full moon last night. Maybe you’ve got a local werewolf.”

Caroline doesn’t laugh. She stiffens, eyes widening, cursing her stupidity. Her father will be disappointed if he ever hears about this; he’d insisted she learn to track the moon phases when she was young. It’s a habit that’s waned.

Her father had left upon reading about a series of suspicious deaths in Chicago. Said he’d be back once he eliminated the brazen vampire, but he’d found another soon after. Caroline’s accepted that her father likes being a vampire hunter more than a rancher.

If she’s honest, she rather enjoys her lack of parental judgment.

Her complacency comes down to the fact that she’d been told that there hadn’t been a werewolf in the area since the last Lockwood had picked up and set out for the city.

The gossip mill in town would have gone wild if a founding family member had returned so it can’t be Tyler or his father or uncle. That doesn’t mean a stranger hasn’t recently moved or isn’t passing through.

Enzo interprets her shock differently, patting her arm to offer comfort. “It’ll be alright. We’ll put in some more work on the fences, yeah? Make them higher on the wooded side. Why don’t I take your turn at breakfast?”

She forces a smile, “Would you? I need to have a quick chat with Bon.”

If they’ve got a werewolf, it’ll be better if Bonnie explains to Enzo anyway. Enzo had been a drifter who’d shown up looking for a couple of weeks of work eight months ago. Caroline strongly suspects he’s stuck around so long for the pleasure of Bonnie’s company.

“Of course. She’s out with the horses. Don’t be too long, yeah? My pancakes are better hot.”

* * * * *

When Sheila Bennett had died, Bonnie had been left with little. Once Grams was buried, the debt collector’s filled their pockets. The crumbling house Bonnie had grown up in, a small patch of land, and nothing else. The Bennett homestead was adjacent to the Forbes’ land, and Grams had been helping with the Forbes’ animals for years, soothing sickness and healing wounds. Bonnie had been barely fourteen, with no other family, and Caroline’s mother had offered Bonnie a place in their home.

“Bon?” Caroline calls, walking into the barn.

“Back here!” she calls out, and Caroline makes her way to the farthest stall, finds Bonnie brushing out Persephone, her favorite mare. “You saw Enzo?” Bonnie asks when Caroline’s close enough that she no longer needs to shout.

“Yeah. Question, does he know that you’re a witch?”

Bonnie pauses, throws Caroline a look as if she’s insane to ask. “Of course not.”

“Why ‘of course not?’ You must know he’s stupid for you. You could probably tell him you needed his assistance in a naked moon ritual, and he’d be out of his pants before you finished your sentence.”

“I don’t do naked moon rituals.”

“I know that, but he doesn’t. Could be a good way to move on from those intimate fireside chats you two are so fond of.”

She’s teasing or trying to, but Bonnie’s expression remains serious. “I’m not going to tell him. We can’t afford for him to leave.”

It would be a struggle, but they’d make do. She and Bonnie had survived worse. “You mean you don’t want him to leave.”

Bonnie turns away, and Caroline follows, helping when Bonnie heaves a saddle off the wall. “He’s not Jeremy Gilbert,” Caroline says, quieter now. She can’t guarantee it, of course, but she suspects Enzo’s loyalty is a stubborn thing once given.

Bonnie doesn’t reply; Caroline decides to table the subject. Possibly until such a time when she can ply Bonnie with liquor and sweets, until she’s a little more loose-lipped. “Well. Turns out we might have a werewolf.”

Bonnie sighs, “I think so too.” She gives Persephone an affectionate pat, “I’ll ride out with you after breakfast and see if I can sense any trace of magic. Is there anything you can send Enzo to town for?”

“I’m sure I can think of something.”

A jangling rings out, causing Caroline to jump because they rarely bother with the dinner bell. She nudges Bonnie, then throws the saddle over Persephone’s back. “C’mon, let’s hurry up. Enzo offered to cover breakfast, and he obviously wants it appreciated.”

“He does cook better than either of us.”

“But we’re not going to tell him that; he’d be insufferable.”

Bonnie laughs, finally, and a bit of Caroline’s earlier good mood returns.

* * * * *

At the next full moon, Caroline’s prepared. She has her mother’s rifle and two revolvers her father had left behind, one loaded with silver bullets. It’s a contingency should the worst happen, and the werewolf gets close enough to hurt her. She’d rather not kill a person just because they happen to transform into a wolf once a month. They might be perfectly lovely otherwise.

She tucks a knife into her boot, straps on the rifle.

Enzo’s leaning against the water trough, watching her worriedly. “I still think you should stay here.”

Caroline rolls her eyes. “And I think that’s adorable, but I’m a better shot than you are. I’ll be fine.”

She’s taking the perimeter tonight, leaving Enzo and Bonnie to guard the house and the barn. Bonnie’s enchanted the bracelets Caroline wears under her leather coat. She’d picked up a signature last month and connected it to the jewelry. Bonnie’s spell should help point Caroline in the right direction.

She’s slightly annoyed at Enzo, suspects he doesn’t quite believe them about the werewolf. Bonnie has yet to confess she’s a witch, likely sensing the same thing and sinking deeper into her doubts about Enzo’s steadfastness. Bonnie’s withdrawn from Enzo, tends to flee when he enters a room. He’s grown moodier in response, and Caroline’s had the strong urge to smack some sense into him a time or two.

She still needs to get Bonnie drunk, too. Hopefully, she’ll solve the werewolf problem tonight, and then she can devote more attention to matchmaking.

Which is different than meddling, in Caroline’s expert opinion.

Caroline sets her foot into a stirrup once her weapons are accounted for and swings herself up into the saddle. Enzo’s arms are crossed, she’s tempted to tell him to stop pouting, but she knows he’s only worried about her. She smiles, settles in, “Don’t let any more of my animals get eaten, okay? And make sure Bonnie gets a decent dinner. She’s been working hard lately.”

Bon’s insisted on putting up additional protections. She hides it, but Caroline knows that’s exhausting.

Enzo nods, serious, “Aye, aye, Captain.”

“Hmm, I kinda like the sound of that. Maybe a little salute? Could be fun.”

He fights it but Caroline spies a small smile. “Don’t let it get to your head.” He hands her the bag she’d packed, taking the reigns while Caroline gets it situated. “Be careful out there, will you?”

“Promise. I’ll be back at first light.”

Possibly not alone, but she’s not going to tell Enzo that.

He’d only worry more.

* * * * *

The bracelet on her left arm warms first, and Caroline urges the horse in that direction. By the time she reaches the gate that opens into the forest, the bracelet’s practically humming. She’s not surprised; Bonnie had said the most potent traces of the werewolf had come from the area. Werewolves are, at least according to her father’s lessons, creatures of habit. Caroline turns the horse around, leading him to a patch of grass that should keep him occupied. She hops off, tying off the reigns so the horse won’t trip while he grazes. She unbuckles the saddlebags and walks back to the gate, hanging them on a fence post.

Then she grimaces, reaches in, and pulls out a hunk of beef that she would much rather be using for a hearty dinner. Caroline winds up and heaves it as far as she can, reaching in for another handful. Once the meat’s been thrown, she cleans her hands as best she can with a splash of water from her canteen and a handkerchief. She then sinks to her knees, propping her shotgun between the fence slats, and settles in to wait.

Bonnie’s magic warns her when the werewolf approaches, the metal on her wrist heating until it nearly hurts. Caroline rips it off and tenses, squinting into the darkness, taking careful, even breaths. She hears leaves rustle, underbrush crunching. She swallows a shocked noise when the wolf first lumbers out of the treeline.

She’d known it would be larger than the typical wolf but knowing is different than seeing. The werewolf is enormous.

Its fur is fairly pale, a sandy brown, making it easier to see under the moonlight.

Caroline’s next inhale is shaky, and she lets her finger rest on the shotgun’s trigger. The wolf eats the meat she’d provided, sitting down when it’s gone. Caroline’s muscles are starting to ache with the effort of staying so still.

Best case scenario, the wolf is satisfied with the meal she’d provided and lopes back into the forest. Then, Caroline can continue with her discreet inquiries in town. Three people have moved to town recently; a family’s taken up residence in the old Salvatore ranch. The werewolf must be among the newcomers; she’s just got to figure out the most likely suspect.

Tonight, luck is not on her side.

The wolf’s head tips up as he sniffs the air. Caroline hears hooves faintly, just behind her, much closer than they should be.

The wolf stalks closer, unmistakably hunting, and Caroline silently curses, carefully lining up her shot.

She catches the wolf’s shoulder just before it leaps, and she cringes at the high-pitched yelp of pain it emits. She fires another shot, wide this time, hitting a tree. It’s enough to scare the wolf away, and it retreats, limping into the forest.

Her horse nudges at her pack, and Caroline sighs, sitting down in a more comfortable position. She digs out an apple, takes a bite before offering it to her horse. “I hope you know; I just saved you from being dinner.”

The horse is unbothered, only concerned with his treat.

* * * * *

Once the last trace of the night sky recede, Caroline treks into the woods. She’s careful to keep her footsteps silent, has one pistol loosely clutched in her hand.

The one loaded with silver sits heavily at the small of her back. The bracelet guides her though she likely would have been able to track without it. She spots blood at a few points, a streak against a tree here, a few drops decorating the grass there, and there’s a distinct set of prints.

Guilt churns in Caroline’s stomach, but she tells herself her aim was good – she’d learned to shoot as soon as her hands were big enough, her mother had insisted she become even more proficient when Caroline had been a teenager. She’s beaten every boy her age in town at the summer fair, most of the men older than her too.

It had to have been a clean shot.

So caught up in her anxious musings, she almost misses the body in the clearing.

Caroline crouches low to the ground and tucked behind the trunk of a thick maple. She catches the relieved breath before it exits her mouth when she sees the steady rise and fall of the man’s chest.

A fairly nice one, not that she’s leering.

He looks like he’s resting, his hand clutched over his shoulder. There’s blood but not what Caroline thinks is a life-threatening amount. He must have healed some in werewolf form.

She hadn’t put much thought into this particular portion of her plan, something she regrets now. She’s confident he’s not a threat, naked and injured as he is, so she tucks the gun away.

Caroline stands, runs a hand over her hair, dislodging a few bits of leaves. She strides forward, no longer taking care to be sneaky. “Good morning!” she calls cheerfully as if they’re meeting at the market.

The man scrambles to a sitting position, dragging himself back with his uninjured arm. Caroline lifts her hands so he can see them, turning so he’s no longer in her line of sight. “Sorry!” she says, “didn’t mean to startle you. I did mean to shoot you, but I’m sorry for that too. You’ve already eaten too many of my animals.”

He clears his throat, “Miss,” he says, something stern in the tone even though his voice comes out a hoarse scratch, “What are you doing out here?”

She scoffs, “I should be asking you that. This is my land. Why are you on it? And without a stitch of clothing on?”

There’s a lengthy pause. “I assure you, there is a perfectly logical explanation.”

He’s not quick to supply it, and Caroline takes pity on him. She tosses her pack behind her in his general direction. “There’s clothes in there, clean handkerchiefs in the front pocket. You’re welcome to them.” He doesn’t reply, but she hears cloth rustling, assumes he’s taken her invitation. “Let me know when you’re decent.”

He makes a noise, soft and amused. His motions seem to hasten.

She’s relieved he seems willing to hear her out, at least. Or perhaps the blood loss has made him more pliable. Caroline suspects she knows who he is, but she’d rather not have to chase him down in town.

No need to invite gossip.

“You can turn around now.”

Caroline whirls. She’d filched the clothing from Enzo, and it hangs a bit on the stranger. He’s left several of the shirt’s buttons undone, has bunched up the linen she’d offered, and his hand presses it to his wound.

Katherine Pierce, who owns the saloon in town, had described one of the newcomers as “pompous but easy on the eyes” before talking up his physical charms. Her descriptions, many of them borderline lewd, fit this man to a tee.

“Klaus Mikaelson, I presume?”

His brows rise in surprise, “Correct. And you are?”

“Caroline Forbes. I own this land, the ranch to the east. And the livestock you’ve been snacking on for the last two months.”

His eyes narrow, shoulders straightening, and his gaze grows cool and dismissive. Caroline understands where ‘pompous’ had come from. “I have no idea what you’re speaking of.”

She doesn’t try to hide her annoyed sigh. She grabs one of her revolvers, the weightier one. Caroline flips open the chamber and shakes out one of the silver bullets. “Catch,” she says, tossing it at Klaus’ face.

His hand flies up automatically, and he hisses in pain once his fist closes around the silver. He throws it aside, shaking his hand.

Her point made, Caroline stows the gun again. “You’re a werewolf. I’m fully aware of the existence of werewolves. Let’s move along to the real issues, shall we?”

Klaus doesn’t look happy about it, but he nods stiffly.

And because Caroline’s not a total monster, she offers and assurance first. “I won’t tell anyone.”

He doesn’t respond, but he seems in no hurry to leave, apparently intent on studying her person.

Caroline wishes she looked slightly more put together if she’s honest.

She tips her head in the direction she’d come from. “Why don’t we head back to my place? My friend Bonnie’s a witch; she’ll be able to make sure those wounds heal right up. I’ll even throw in breakfast.”

He appears mystified. “I’m a werewolf, love.”

“And? We’ve established that.”

“I’m dangerous.”

She laughs. Klaus remains unamused.

“I’ve got five more bullets that can kill you, another gun and a knife for good measure. You’re not even wearing shoes, and I can hear your stomach growling.”

“It’s improper. Your reputation…”

“Oh, that was tarnished ages ago,” Caroline informs him breezily. “Matt Donovan, have you met him? I think he’s the Sheriff’s Deputy now. I fell hard and fast for his pretty blue eyes when I was seventeen, and everyone knows about the time we were caught sneaking back into the church at the Founder’s Day picnic. My dress was horribly grass-stained. He bumbled through a marriage proposal the next day, but I let him down easy.”

Klaus blinks, mouth slightly ajar.

That may have been more information than he needed, but she’s forgotten how fun it is to be shocking. Caroline generally minds her manners in town and pours on her considerable charm so people will buy from her, or trade, with a minimum of fuss. It’s only at home that she can be free and genuinely herself.

“My parents were wildly eccentric,” Caroline continues, “so really, I had no chance with the snobbier townsfolk.”

Klaus opens his mouth like he’s going to offer another argument, and of course, he’s stubborn.

Caroline’s confident she’s more than a match in that department.

She spins away before he can say anything else. “We can do this again next month if you like, gunshot wound and all, probably. You’ve returned to the same spot three times. Seems like a pattern, doesn’t it?”

She hums a tune, meanders away like she has all the time in the world.

Caroline counts to four before she hears Klaus’ footsteps following her.

[notalittlebutalottie]

Prompt: AH or Cannon- either works: Klaus commits a murder (victim and circumstances are your choice). Caroline runs a body dispose business. Sparks fly and attraction sets in....over a dead body.

Here is my drabble that I have forced myself to write because I have the biggest block on Earth these last few days. I can’t decide if I love it or hate it so... Enjoy 😊

♡ KLAROLINE DRABBLE #44: Body Disposal For One♡ (NSFW: blood, gore)

When her boyfriend, Damon, had forced her to watch Pulp Fiction in Senior year, she found herself identifying with the character of Winston Wolfe, the ‘man who fixes problems’, a little too much. She had often been the one to clean up after people’s messes whether it was Elena throwing up all over her parents’ carpet (underage drinking was a big no-no, of course) or Damon trashing whatever house he was partying at that weekend. Cleaning up after a murder sounded like a breeze. She had no idea her first disposal would be her own boyfriend, though.

But she was right. It was a breeze. And with a degree in Business, she knew how to put her skills to good use.

When she entered the large hall, baroque designs abundant, the sight of a head separated from its body greeted her. Blood was splattered across the floor, a crude mix of entrails and fluids unravelling from the torso. She sighed, her heels coming to a slow click, and asked, “Would it kill you to be a little less...messy?”

“Afraid not, sweetheart,” his accented voice drawled as he looked up from his place on the royal blue armchair. “That would ruin the fun.”

Klaus Mikaelson was a regular customer. A well-paying one, too. But he was as attractive as he was obnoxious. And as obnoxious as he was bloodthirsty. He had been impressed by her work after reluctantly following the suggestions of an associate to use her services. Despite obviously checking her out upon entry, he voiced his displeasure just as quickly. He was a ‘lone wolf’, but so was she. Nothing was more gratifying than the pleasantly surprised flash in his eyes as she billed him for her time, not a trace of his crime in sight.

“Well in that case, a little help would be appreciated,” she stated pointedly and threw a rag at his face, which he hadn’t failed to catch. His smirk elicited an eye roll, of which she had plenty to display in his presence. She pressed onwards to the body, dropping her two large duffle bags alongside it. She crouched down, raising an eyebrow as the dismembered head was placed in her memory. “Charles Gatineaux?” She glanced at him, questioning, “Keeping it in the family’s a little tacky, don’t you think?”

Klaus rose from the armchair, rolling up the sleeves of his thin, cotton henley. “In my experience, those who have been wronged seek revenge and it appears the heirs of my victims are prime candidates,” he noted absentmindedly.

“How thorough,” Caroline commented with a scoff. She stood up slowly and turned her head his way. He was feigning a scrub of the blood marks on the walls. “You’d think by now, you’d learn how to clean up after yourself.”

He pressed the cloth to his chest and frowned. “And risk losing the precious time we have together?” He took a step forward and gestured a bloody hand out. “This is our thing, is it not?”

“We don’t have a thing,” she replied sharply and turned back to view the body. “You have a murder thing, though.”

That was an understatement. This was his third call of the week. For someone so high up in the world of crime, he sure liked to get his hands dirty.

She felt him come up behind her, his body pressing into her back. The heat was enough to make her shiver with excitement. “Isn’t it thrilling?” Klaus whispered, the syllables dragging out as his lips brushed against her earlobe.

Caroline pressed her lips together momentarily. “You’re not lacking in creativity, that’s for sure,” she muttered and closed her eyes when his teeth grazed her skin.

“Impressed with my work, love?”

“I might make a suggestion or two.”

Klaus brought a hand to her waist, his fingers drumming gently over the rippling fabric of her shirt. “Care to share all of those suggestions with me over a drink?”

“I don’t mix business with pleasure,” she finally spat, slipping from his grasp to zip open her duffel bag of tools.

She could hear his damning breath of amusement. He stepped over the dismembered body and mused, “You didn’t seem to mind last Spring.”

Caroline shook her head, an incredulous grin spread across her face. Slipping her hands into a pair of gloves, she replied, “Well, you know Valentine’s can make a person do stupid things, fall into bed with the wrong people.”

“I don’t recall a bed,” he pointed out with an impish smile. He crouched down to admire his handiwork. “I do recall your delicious screams, however.”

No, it wasn’t on a bed. It was on a desk. And his victim was sitting slack-jawed in the office chair adjacent (literally, that thing was barely hanging on by a few tendons). It was a remarkable sight to take in followed by the sight of Klaus, drenched in crimson, which was most unforgiving. She could barely contain herself when his darkened eyes took upon her. It was the only time she had ever displayed her bloodlust in the company of others; Damon had seen it, of course, but hadn’t lived long enough to use it against her. It wasn’t long before Klaus’ bloodied hands were staining every inch of her bare chest as he rocked into her and she cried out his name.

Caroline looked across at him. She didn’t offer him a response. She held a firm stare. Anything else would provide him a wealth of ammo that she knew better than to give.

“Perhaps next Valentine’s?” he suggested, his notes lifting in the empty space.

“If you’re not caught by then.” Caroline hummed, retrieving a freshly sharpened saw from the bag. “Three Gatineaux family members in a week,” she threw him an uneasy smile, “kinda indicates a pattern.”

“I suppose I’ll just have to keep calling you to help with the clean up then.” He paused, presenting a toothy grin. “So shall I book us a table for Valentine’s or will we be opting for a round two of last year, love?”

Her eyelashes fluttered as she fought off a devilish smile. “I think I’d like to keep our options open.”

[highgaarden]

Klaroline Time Travel, please for the inbox game.

send me an au and i’ll write five headcanons about it.

i got this prompt a few days ago and thought - hey, it sort of fits in with one of the prompts in @klaroline-events’ june bingo: curse.

two birds, one stone? is that allowed? anyway, if it’s not allowed it’s okay, i had fun writing this all the same! another one for my drunk writing: a series tag, which as usual was written in one sitting whilst i giggle throughout.

sweetness that i took for, sweetness that she gave me to me;

though my heart has long been given to you summer's turn is nigh swifts and swallows swoop and yearn for you with all that's in the sky but blow the wind and come the rain and come my love again

i. 

she’s on the ground when she comes to. her head’s a mess and her back hurts, and she licks the inside of her dry mouth, suddenly wishing for blood to coat her parched tongue. 

the last thing she remembers is freya, davina, her own twins and bonnie standing in formation around hope; some kind of spell to slow down her age or something. she’s in her twenties and every day klaus grows more and more volatile about it, so it was deduced that something had to be done.

in that salt circle hope didn’t look too happy about it. last night there had been a huge argument between father and daughter - everyone had stayed well enough away, even hayley, who shrugs at her as if to apologize this was how their girls' summer break from the salvatore school was going.

“minutes ut horis et diebus et hebdomades,” bonnie and freya chant. 

hope groans.

 “quantum pugillus capere potest,” lizzie and josie continue, fingers clasped together, their eyes turning white. 

hope snorts.

“ex harenae spatia veluti clepsydris metiuntur,” davina bellows as wind starts whipping the air around them. 

hope rolls her eyes.

“tempus extendit!” they chorus together.

the witches chant and hope checks her wristwatch, and then a storm rolls in, breaking everything. the twins are flung to different ends of the room; freya loses her footing and has to dig her nails into the floor to avoid being dragged out the window that's burst open; bonnie bleeds through her nose and drops to her knees; davina flings herself over hope when the little baby tribrid starts to convulse--when it hits her, when it really hits her, that something has gone terribly wrong--

she's on her back. in a cemetery, her throat is bleeding and tyler - tyler? - is shouting down at her, but she can't hear anything he's saying.

she raises her hand. around her wrist, a charm bracelet glints, and her vision blurs: "no," she gasps, death taking over. she hasn't worn that bracelet since her eighteenth birthday.

ii.

klaus sits on the edge of her bed, his gaze swallowing her. she hears a crooning in her ears that she attributes to the werewolve venom taking space in her veins, smoking out the seams of her. she is burning up; this isn't real - how is this real? this isn't happening - she must be hallucinating, she was a woman in the abbatoir watching as a spell self-destructed, and now - 

she was a girl again, and she was dying.

"what's going on?" she whispers, frustrated even as gravity as she knew it malfunctioned around her, making her weightless yet heavy to the bone all at once. "this doesn't make any freaking sense."

"me persuading you, trying to save your life?" klaus cocks his head to the side. it's funny - he is so hard and unreadable here, so many years ago. he wore his rosaries and beads like they meant to be anything more than an accessory peaking just underneath his collar - he wore them like they armour; a badge of honour, hard worn after a bloody, grisly fight. and yet looked and smelled clean. so clean it cut through the putrid leaking out of her neck. "you do think so low of me, then."

"didn't i just say that?" she coughs, splattering her blanket with a fine red mist. this wasn't how it had gone the first time around. he was sitting there, staring at her, those same old hungry eyes she remembers even years later like a broken dream. she can't help herself. she stares him down, much like the first time, but then - her mouth parts, she licks her dry, parched lips, and says, "i've seen so many things."

klaus, ancient monster klaus who barely knew anything more about her than her name, klaus, the being just short of an omniscient deity,old as blood and weathered as a mountain - he doesn't laugh. he nods, once, hearing and listening. he says, "i don't doubt that, sweetheart."

she almost smiles. she's oddly satisfied. "maybe i am ready to die."

"then you're lucky," klaus says, "not many are."

"because you don't give them the chance," she says, coughing again. man, werewolf bites sucked. this memory got it down so perfectly, she would curse the witches' powers if she weren't so impressed.

"who says i don't?" 

she watches him with interest. "i thought you maimed first, ask questions never?"

"maim isn't kill." klaus grins. "maim is slow, painful, yes, but it gives them just long enough to plead their guilt, swear fealty to me, no? my maiming is my mercy."

"you write poetry or something?"

klaus laughs quietly. "i did some editing work for shakespeare, for a fashion. can't say i've ever written anything, no. my talents lie elsewhere."

she thinks about the wisp of his dress shoes against the hem hre ballgown. klaus leading her into a room with wide, arched ceilings. one of my passions, he said.

"i know," she says, quietly, with so much rueful affirmation in her voice that klaus reels back suddenly. as if realising he was sitting with someone who was far more familiar with him than current logic would suggest.

it felt like strange company to be having on her death bed. he had talked her out of dying last time. would he, again, in this memory?

was this a memory?

she thinks about how powerful the witches were in their own right. she thinks about their combined power. she thinks about how her blanket scratches heavily against her drenched, hyper-sensitive skin. 

she's not sure this is just memory.

and - and if it weren't just a memory, and the spell they'd tried casting had tried to temper with time, and she was here, in the PAST, was she - oh god - was this - ?

"klaus," she gasps, clutching at his hands. klaus' eyes widen.

"i don't know who you think you are, girl," klaus begins in a snarl, but everything flashes bright and hot - 

iii.

"and how am i doing?"

he knows his lines by now. he had been confused, enraged, elated all at once when he'd first landed slap dab in the middle of a patch in time he'd already lived through, but he's seen things in his thousand-and-something years, so he wasn't all that surprised. he'd tried to switch things up at first, say things he'd held back all those years ago, and watches caroline's face change.

it was fascinating, seeing things all over again. it offered him perspective. arguing with caroline but being able to detach himself from the moment and study all the ways that make her tick. knowing her for so many years now, he knew when she was bluffing. it was the way she would refuse to meet his eyes. back then, she never met his eyes.

stubborn little woman.

she turns. her gaze was sharper than the chill of the uncharacteristically cool spring afternoon. and then all at once she softens, and the bloom around her inexplicably gain more colour. the rest of the pageant dulled around her as she grew larger than life. "you look... perfect."

he'd never realised that little breath she had let out - like he had met her expectations yet again. exceeded them, in fact. she held herself carefully  around him, like she was made of thousands of little strings which would at any point unravel, leaving her bare for him.

odd, because he could only ever remember her being determined not to relinquish any control over to him. it had never occurred to him that her grip over it wasn't as unwavering as he'd thought.

iv.

caroline speeds through these scenarios she didn't have a name for, now that she had determined their level of harm - they appeared to only be swaths of time, ripped to shreds, trying to come back together. she wondered about the reality of bonnie, freya, her girls and davina's ministrations.

what had they done to Time?

she couldn't call it memories, these moments she steps into. maybe time was reconstructing. her meetings with klaus weren't in any chronological order. at some point they were in her office, two years ago, him pleading with her to help him save his daughter. experiencing it the first time around hadn't been easy. the second - she could watch him with new eyes and notice all the other, smaller ways he seemed to be falling apart. the things she'd never noticed. 

like the way he could stare at her, and oh how he stared. the way he would level his eyes to hers when it looked like she was ready to break eye contact; he would catch her gaze and hold, pulling her back, tethering her to him, unrelenting.

he's looking at her right now as he shows her his paintings. it's the night of the mikaelson ball all over again, and she is in her gifted dress and klaus is in his relish of the moment. how she had come to him after letting him dress her. now that she's older she knows now, what it must have meant to him. this small claiming, the first of many.

but there is none of the heat in his gaze, because he's not that klaus yet. he's not in love with her, yet. he's not looking at her as if he'd like nothing else than to just press the very tips of the hair that brushed his forehead to hers, just hold her there, and not think for a while.

yet.

she knows how this will go. did klaus know, then?

"you make it sound like it was the easiest decision in the world," she finds herself saying, "choosing me."

klaus looks surprised. she'd interrupted him mid-rant about some kind of debate, michaelangelo vs donatello or whatever. "was i not making myself clear enough when i said i fancy you?"

"liking - despite yourself - that's not choosing." she gives the half-done sketches in her hands a quick glance before putting them back where she'd found them. "we both know i'm not just your fancy of the week."

klaus' face clouds over. "and here i thought courting you would be easy." it sounds like a joke, but it's not. she can hear it in the sudden shift in his voice, how it becomes just that much silkier.

"you didn't really think that," she says knowingly, playing into his charade. enjoying the danger. some things never really change, she wants to laugh.

a small smirk breaks through the hard set of his mouth. "no, i really didn't. you're too smart to be seduced by me."

caroline blinks. her own words, in his mouth, shouldn't startle her so much. how well he knew her, even having just met her. "that's why you like me," she says. only just loud enough for him to catch it.

he doesn't say anything. just lifts her gloved knuckles to his lips and kissed her there.

v.

she makes an excuse to leave. klaus is unwilling to let her go so easily but he's playing at being a gentlemen, because back then he'd thought she'd received him better. it was kind of adorable in a way, if it didn't vex her so much.

what was happening? where the hell was she? why was she stuck in a weird loop of all her interactions with klaus? was hope okay? when was she getting out of here?

she walks on, the trail of her dress getting dirty and muddled in the damp earth. she could smell in the air that it was going to rain, and yet she walks and walks and walks through the lawn of the mikaelson estate until she reaches the edge, and the air around her wrinkles and gleams, as if trying to force a doorway through.

she... takes a step forward. and another. she goes easily through the barrier - she almost wonders if she'd imagined it.

she's still in the mikaelson estate.

so she keeps walking - until she sees a familiar figure ahead. 

it's klaus.

she gulps. had he come look for her after all, shucking the gentleman and bowing to the monster?

she keeps walking. until she's close enough to see that he's looking a little more dishevelled than he did at the ball. his bowtie was lose around his neck. he'd lost his jacket, and his sleeves were rolled to his elbows. 

he looks at her. the way he's always looked at her.

she breathes in. "you're here too," she says on the exhale.

"enjoy the ball?" he asks, in lieu of a confirmation. he eyes her in the dress. "i almost forgot how lovely you looked, that night. i never knew if you kept the dress."

"i did," caroline laughs, shakily. "deep in the back of my closet, hidden from prying eyes - but not well hidden enough."

a corner of klaus' lips quirk. "tell me."

"my girls found it," caroline shrugs. "and hope wore it to her miss mystic falls pageant."

"did she win?" he asks, hungry for this bit of information about his daughter in the years he was dead, lost to time. 

"of course she did," caroline half-smiles. "she was in the care of lizzie's craftful hands. i raised my daughters in my image. not all - just the good bits."

"i love all your bits," klaus says. he smiles at her, softly, cataloguing how she looks now, in the dress he'd given her years and years ago. "you loved me for far longer than i'd thought, caroline."

caroline, to her credit, doesn't blush. no, she's too much a woman now. denial had lead her nowhere for so many years. "gonna gloat about it now?"

"nah," klaus says, putting his hands in his pockets as they fell into step, into the cold night. 

the grass, almost frozen in the morning dew to come, crunch under their feet. they walk until they reach his lake, because of course the mikaelson estate would have a lake. klaus pulls his hands out of his pockets and offers her his arm, which she takes, and leads her to the bench that overlooks the reflection of the night sky on still, dark waters.

"i wish you'd taken me here instead, that night," caroline says, still in that casual offhand voice she'd adopted since meeting him. "way more romantic."

"i thought you would've been averse to romantic, so soon after we'd met." klaus shrugs. "also, the full force of my courtship would have had you on your knees, caroline. a man has to start slow."

"i thought you would've liked me on my knees," she says impishly, and he nearly falls off the bench.

god, klaus had died and come back to life so many times a creature that just refused to go quietly - and yet with her he's this fumbling bashful boy. she nudged him with his knee, through the many delicate layers of her dress. "how was your trip down memory lane?"

"enlightening," he says mysteriously. she doesn't bother to hide her grin.

"so was mine," she says. "all those times you must have wanted to rip my head off. i was a daring idiot."

"not an idiot," klaus argues. "sure, you could have held your tongue at any point - but you were certainly daring. you bore the brunt of my affections for you like armour. any lesser woman would have crumpled."

she doesn't meet his gaze, but he catches her chin before she can look away. "no, love. none of that, please. we've come so far."

he's pleased when she bites her bottom lip, understanding. he never had to explain herself with her. she was always perceptive, always listening, always deciphering. his clever caroline.

"so has hope," caroline says, and klaus groans quietly. "she's the brightest kid at the school, klaus. she knows her power and knows her limits. she can benchpress the boys under the table," she laughs in recollection, and he can't help but join in, "and you can't do anything about her growing, klaus."

klaus sighs. long and wrought out, and in pain. "i have missed so many of her years."

"what are you going to do, stall her even more? let her miss out on the beauty of aging, with lizzie and josie?" caroline catches his eye. "they've become family, our girls. we are family now - let them grow and know loss."

he's a bit dumbfounded by the wisdom she's displaying but has time to clear his throat and say, rather gruffly like when he's trying to mask awkwardness, "we're not a family. not really. you have alaric, and..."

"and alaric is my business partner, the father to the girls," she says sternly. "alaric is not... you."

it's weird, his gaze has been on hers all along, but it's like he's refocusing, seeing her for the first time. "what are you saying?"

"i'm saying that i didn't just come to new orleans because the girls wanted to spend summer break there." she licks her lips nervously. "i'm saying i came for me, too. it was a really nice holiday, klaus."

"before i bungled everything up, i expect," klaus mutters. caroline laughs a bit. the air around them had slowly warmed as their conversation lengthened, and was sizzling now, lighting up klaus' face in sparks of white and gold. "time to go back, sweetheart."

"you should work on your apology to her," caroline says, taking his arm again, and follows him as he stands and steps right into the middle of their ritual earlier.

lizzie and josie were there, and hope was in the middle of the twins sandwich - freya and bonnie were consulting a grimoire and davina was drawing chalk on the floor. they all looked up and stared at them, jaws dropping.

"looking good, dad," hope says, impressed, then her eyes land on caroline in the dress. "oh my gosh - it looks like it was made for you."

"um, it was hers?" lizzie says, snorting. "can't believe you're on honour roll."

"lizzie," josie chides. she tilts her head at klaus and her mother, looking them up and down, the way her mother’s hand was wrapped loosely in the crook of klaus’ arm, where only hours ago they had determinedly not touched this entire break. "so, weird trip?"

"you could say that," caroline says airily as the air re-seals behind them. "think something like a charles dickens novel."

"cool," hope nods. she looks at her father expectantly. "what have we learned about messing with time, dad?"

"to not do it," klaus concedes grumpily. "now off you go before i lose my mind over that gray hair growing down your temple."

"i do not have grey hair!" hope gasps, affronted, and storms the room, the twins giggling in tow.

"bet you wouldn't mind some slow-aging spells for THAT!" klaus calls after her laughingly, and she must have heard, tribrid senses and all, and mutters something about him might being right.

[thetonecontrol]

Interview with Electronic Audio Experiments

Righteous Ryan: When did you decide to become a builder and what motivated you to do so?

Electronic Audio Experiments: Even before I taught myself how to play the guitar I was always interested in what makes instruments work, so naturally I was a pedal nerd as soon as I learned what they were. After studying electronics for fun on the side (took a couple extra courses during undergrad and then read books on my own) it became a natural progression of my interests to start tinkering with my own. I did a few tagboard clone builds before I realized I wanted to have more control over the design process. And that's still my primary motivation: I love the design process with all of its challenges and room for artistic decisions.

EAE as a company formally started in approximately winter/spring of 2015. In February of that year, Boston was slammed over 5 feet of snow. I spent a lot of time in my crummy basement apartment eating frozen pizzas and breadboarding what would eventually become the Longsword V1. I used it on a couple records I was a part of (Perfect Moments by Tiny Fractures and the Native Wildlife s/t - both on bandcamp, for the curious) and that generated enough interest to do a release that summer. The rest has been a whirlwind!

RR: What motivates you to create original circuits?

EAE: Short answer - it's really satisfying to me, basically my favorite pastime.

Longer answer - I love the challenge of making something from scratch that hopefully lets my personality come through. I should qualify; I am not reinventing any wheels here. Designing "from scratch" is like building something out of legos. You can't really design new pieces (which leads some of the more cynical folks out there to say there's nothing new under the sun) but there are lots of building blocks and lots of ways to arrange them. The artistic merit is in the details, and the fun is in the thrill of the chase. It's an obsessive process but endlessly gratifying.

RR: Are you currently working on anything new?

EAE: Oh god, too many things. Here's a sampling:

Halberd - this is a drive which started as the preamp block of Sending, but heavily mutated into its own thing. It features pronounced treble attack/clarity, stupidly high output, and a strong second harmonic response. Been "finalizing" it for a while but I'm trying my damnedest to release it this summer. (If you want to hear a rough demo of an earlier iteration, check this video out: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qpGgzl3lOgs)

Sending V2 - I'm trying to add some features while I do an SMD conversion - mostly modulation and CV control over delay time. Currently on the back burner while I get the Halberd sorted out.

Hypersleep - this is my weird multi-tap chorus/vibrato/reverb-ish thing (nb: this is also in Ian's video linked above). It's also on the back burner while I get the Halberd sorted out. I really want to put it to production but it depends fully on whether I can source enough MN3011 BBDs to make it happen. If I can get enough to build 50 I'll do a limited run, but I'd really prefer to do 100 if at all possible... so we shall see what happens.

Super secret collab with Electrofoods Pedals - stay tuned, I am very excited

Surveyor - IVP side of the Dude Incredible, will be released later this year. It's ready to rock.

Various contract designs - Caroline Somersault (just wrapped up), Caroline Megabyte (working on the second round of prototypes), Dunable Eidolon (close to done, just needs some code fixes), another 2 or 3 projects all TBA.

RR: What is your design process like?

EAE: Whenever I design something new I have to answer two questions. 1) does it exist already? and 2) does it address a need or want in my own sonic pursuits? For instance, drive pedals will reflect my tone in whatever band I'm currently in. If it's already been done I can go buy it. If it hasn't been done then the work can begin.

If the design is simple or contains simple building blocks I often go straight to the circuit board layout and if necessary, debug from there. I can often turn a project around pretty quick if that's the case. If I'm not sure whether or not a building block will work, I can try simulating or breadboarding. Circuit simulation is extremely powerful but requires interpretation of the results, which also sometimes differ from reality. Breadboarding is great for audible characterization of a new idea, but the added parasitic capacitances can dramatically alter the frequency response of a circuit - especially a high gain drive or something with lots of complex filters. So there's usually a loop of steps where I move between a breadboard, circuit simulations, and a working prototype until everything works out. Sometimes I just have to resort to plain old math to get what I want.

The first pass of design is a go/no-go check. Does it work? Once it does, I refine it until it can produce sounds I truly like. This is also the step where I do the most work to address noise, oscillation, unwanted artifacts, etc. The final step is to identify which controls I want to keep, and then I determine the tapers/ranges of those controls.

Once there's a working prototype I do extensive beta testing with friends, local musicians and engineers, etc. When testing at home I can lose sight of how good (or not good) a prototype sounds. So a sanity check helps! Once this feedback is incorporated into the process we can go to production. At that point we get the artwork done and start working with our local SMD shop to get boards going.

RR: What's your setup (guitar, amps, pedalboard)?

EAE: I've been awful about maintaining a static setup. I realized that when you're not in a band you can just buy whatever sounds good instead of worrying about serving a song or particular mix. I have a wide assortment of guitars and amps that I use to test pedals during the R&D phase but listing those won't really tell you a coherent story. BUT I started a new band and we're tracking a record (we just did guitars + drums at GodCity) so I can tell you all about the gear I used for that. It's a post-metal sort of outfit so there are lots of heavy sounds but lots of unique mid-gain tones as well. This is also a great chance to plug some work by my friends...

Guitars - Travis Bean TB1000S, which is essentially vintage correct after some restoration work at Electrical Guitar Company (new bridge + pickups). Sounds like a piano. A very angry piano.

My very heavily modified Classic Player Jazzmaster with EGC JM500 pickups and a Robot Graves neck. It can do pristine, chimey cleans or a savage clang depending how much gain you use.

Amps - Traynor YBA1 MKII - Basically a marshall-ish amp with really big transformers. I modded the preamp to roughly superlead specs, but it's got way more bandwidth than a typical marshall.

Traynor YBA3 - not mine, lives at GodCity. Was extensively modified by my friend Scot from SnK pedals, who is also a gifted amp tech. It's loud and clean with a sound that's almost like an ampeg.

For cabs we mostly used an emperor 6x12 with an assortment of speakers. The mic was placed on a Texas Heat.

For my own use I have a pair of Joe's TL806 cabs (Thiele 1x12 design) with EVM12Ls.

Pedals - Halberd proto - great for slamming tube amps!

Electrofoods Oprichniki - the highest gain big muff variant around. I don't even know if it should be called a muff variant because of how twisted and souped up the circuit is. It is an absolute beast.

Dr. Scientist Frazz Dazzler - another extraordinarily high gain fuzz which sounds like absolutely nothing I've ever heard. It's a nice contrast to the more scooped flavor of the Oprich.

SnK VHD - a high gain distortion, used extensively for lead parts especially. Super tight and clear.

Sending V1-ish prototype - also has a tone control. It works ok I guess. Still very much a work in progress!

Lastgasp Misty Cave - weird drone-y reverb/flange thing? Hard to describe. Sounds heavenly.

Hypersleep proto - for room-ish reverb

Red Panda Tensor - Used for a particularly glitchy "solo"

Dirge Slowly Melting - I saw the end of the world, and it was terrifying

Lots of other stuff - I forgot!

Other - Yamaha FX500. The ultimate digital pad machine.

Roland RE-501 Chorus Echo - my drummer owns this, holy hell it is magic

My modular synth - a whole goddamn mess of its own

[sophiajames123]

Bull18 Cleaners is a certified and professional cleaning company Perth which serve you residential cleaning as we as official cleaners services in best ranges across Australia. We will do all the dusting, mopping and cleaning for you with our trained staff at any time.

[letheatreofmusic]

Theatre Bucket List

Plays to Read/See:

Agamemnon (Aeschylus)

American Buffalo (David Mamet)

Angels in America (Tony Kushner)

Antigone (Sophocles)

Arms and the Man (George Bernard Shaw)

As You Like It (Shakespeare)

August: Osage County (Tracy Letts)

The Bacchae (Euripides)

The Birthday Party (Harold Pinter)

Betrayal (Harold Pinter)

Blackbird (David Harrower)

Buried Child (Sam Shepard)

The Caucasian Chalk Circle (Bertolt Brecht)

The Cherry Orchard (Anton Chekhov)

The Clean House (Sarah Ruhl)

Clybourne Park (Bruce Norris)

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime

Cyclops (Euripides)

Death of a Salesman (Arthur Miller)

Disgraced (Ayad Akhtar)

Doctor Faustus (Christopher Marlowe)

A Doll’s House (Henrik Ibsen)

Doubt (John Patrick Stanley)

Eclipsed (Dunai Gurira)

Electra (Sophocles)

Equus (Peter Shaffer)

A Free Man of Color (John Guare)

The Glass Menagerie (Tennessee Williams)

Glengarry Glen Ross (David Mamet)

Hamlet (Shakespeare)

The Heidi Chronicles (Wendy Wasserstein)

Hir (Taylor Mac)

The Humans (Stephen Karam)

The Iceman Cometh (Eugene O’Neill)

The Importance of Being Earnest (Oscar Wilde)

Indecent (Paula Vogel)

In the Blood (Suzan-Lori Parks)

Jitney (August Wilson)

The Killer (Eugene Ionesco)

King Lear (Shakespeare)

Long Day’s Journey Into Night (Eugene O’Neil)

Lysistrata (Aristophenes)

Macbeth (Shakespeare)

Machinal (Sophie Treadwell)

The Mandrake (Nicolo Macchiavelli)

Medea (Euripides)

A Midsummer Night’s Dream (Shakespeare)

Miss Julie (August Strindberg)

The Night Thoreau Spent in Jail (Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee)

Noises Off (Michael Frayn)

The Normal Heart (Larry Kramer)

Oedipus the King (Sophocles)

Othello (Shakespeare)

Our Town (Thornoton Wilder)

The Playboy of the Western World (J.M. Synge)

Private Lives (Noel Coward)

Pygmalion (George Bernard Shaw)

A Raisin in the Sun (Lorraine Hansbury)

Richard III (Shakespeare)

Romeo and Juliet (Shakespeare)

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead (Tom Stoppard)

Ruined (Lynn Nottage)

The School for Scandal (Richard Brinsley Sheridan)

The Seagull (Anton Chekhov)

Significant Other (Joshua Harmon)

Small Mouth Sounds (Beth Wohl)

Speed-the-Plow (David Mamet)

Spreading the News (Lady Augusta Gregory)

A Streetcar Named Desire (Tennessee Williams)

The Taming of the Shrew (Shakespeare)

Tartuffe (Moliere)

The Tempest (Shakespeare)

The Threepenny Opera (Bertolt Brecht)

The Tracking Satyrs (Sophocles)

The Trojan Woman (Euripides)

Topdog/Underdog (Suzan Lori-Parks)

Twelfth Night (Shakespeare)

Ubu Roi (Alfred Jarry)

Uncle Vanya (Anton Chekhov)

The Vagina Monologues (Eve Ensler)

A View from the Bridge (Arthur Miller)

Waiting for Godot (Samuel Beckett)

Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (Edward Albee)

Gypsy

My Fair Lady

Sweeney Todd

Fiddler on the Roof

Guys and Dolls

Oklahoma!

Cabaret

West Side Story

The Music Man

A Chorus Line

Chicago

The Fantasticks

Carousel

Company

Show Boat

The King and I

Little Shop of Horrors

Sunday in the Park with George

How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying

A Little Night Music

She Loves Me

Nine

Follies

Falsettos

Ragtime

Kiss Me, Kate

1776

Into the Woods

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum

Urinetown

The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee

Wicked

Hair

Evita

Hello, Dolly!

La Cage aux Folles

110 in the Shade

The Producers

Lady in the Dark

City of Angels

Dreamgirls

Avenue Q

The Book of Mormon

42nd Street

Brigadoon

The Cradle Will Rock

The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas

Jesus Christ Superstar

Once on this Island

Adding Machine

On the Town

Les Miserables

Bat Boy

Caroline, or Change

South Pacific

The Pajama Game

The Sound of Music

Hairspray

The Phantom of the Opera

Damn Yankees

Rent

Grey Gardens

Assassins

Mame

Man of La Mancha

A Man of No Importance

You’re a Good Man Charlie Brown

Sweet Charity

Camelot

Anything Goes

Wonderful Town

The Light in the Piazza

The Drowsy Chaperone

The Full Monty

Romance/Romance

Godspell

Of Thee I Sing

The Secret Garden

Pippin

Kiss of the Spider Woman

Finian’s Rainbow

Pal Joey

Annie Get Your Gun

Pacific Overtures

Hedwig and the Angry Inch

On Your Toes

Candide

Annie

Beauty and the Beast

Ain’t Misbehavin’

Bye Bye Birdie 

Jelly’s Last Jam

A New Brain

Floyd Collins

Grand Hotel

Violet

A Day in Hollywood, A Night in Ukraine

The Scottsboro Boys

Next to Normal

Hadestown

Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812

The Band’s Visit

Hamilton

Dear Evan Hansen

Heathers

Dream Roles (plays):

Laura in The Glass Menagerie

Nora in A Doll’s House

Regina in The Little Foxes

Harper in Angels in America

Daisy in The Great Gatsby

Lady MacBeth in Macbeth

Catherine in Proof

Ashlee in Dance Nation

Emma in People, Places, & Things

Nina in The Seagull

Dream Roles (Musicals):

Johanna in Sweeney Todd

Fantine in Les Miserables

Audrey in Little Shop of Horrors

Cinderella in Into the Woods

Wendla in Spring Awakening

Amalia in She Loves Me

Sonya in Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812

Princess Mary in Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812

Sibella in Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder

Clara in The Light in the Piazza

Cathy in The Last Five Years

Margo in Bright Star

Rosa Bud in The Mystery of Edwin Drood

Tony in West Side Story (Anyone looking for a female Tony?)

Mary Magdalene in Jesus Christ Superstar

To Be Continued as I Discover More Things...

[marylandparanormal]

Ghost Expedition Montgomery County, Silver Spring Maryland: Burnt Mills West Special Park/Robert B Morse Water Filtration Plant

The Burnt Mills area in Silver Spring, Maryland takes it name from a mill that was said to have burned down there sometime before 1788, possibly circa the 1740′s timeframe

From an antique copper stencil, veteran local journalist J. Harry Shannon (aka "The Rambler") speculated in 1916 the burnt mill may have been known as "Glen Cairn Mills Family Flour"

Milling operations in Burnt Mills date to 1745 when then area was surveyed and patented as the "Mill Seat."  The area's terrain and rapid waterfalls enabled the operations of a series of grist, saw and flour mills. The first mill in Mill Seat was constructed later that year on property owned by Samuel Beall Jr.  And this was likely the namesake mill that burned down

The earliest records of a grist mill at Burnt Mills date to 1803 when the property known as "Beall’s Industry" was sold by Walter Beall to Peter Kemp and James W. Perry  

Nathan Lufborough acquired the mill property, described in an 1823 deed as "one hundred acres more or less".  He had intended to sell the mill in 1847 but he died before the sale could be completed, leaving the property to his heirs.  The property was listed in 1850 as a “flour and bone” mill 

The mill at Burnt Mills was owned by James L. Bond from 1858 to 1886.  The mill produced three grades of flour and stone-ground corn mill. The technology of the mill improved over time. A roller mill replaced mill stones around 1895. A turbine had replaced the wheel by 1880 

Bond sold the property to his sons-in law in 1886.  The last owner was Dr. George W. Bready who acquired the flour mill and land in 1906

In 1913, The Rambler rendered the following portrait of the old flour mill in the Sunday Star

The shingle roof of the mill is green, dark and old, with moss, but  nearly everything else about the mill - the miller, of course, included -  is whitened by the flour and meal ground there, and which has been grinding there so long that no man's memory runneth to the contrary  

Near the mill is the miller's house, bowered in the shade of numerous  close-growing trees and the home of Dr. William T. Brown, surrounded by  shrubbery, orchard and vineyard

By 1922, the mill had ceased operations. That year, the mill was sold to the Washington Suburban Sanitary Commission (WSSC).  The old mill sat idle for years until it was demolished in 1928  

In 1879, Burnt Mills (Four Corners) was a farm community with a population of 125 persons.  In 1934, the Robert E. Lattimer Land Company developed the area as a community of country estates known as Burnt Mills Hills.  The development preserved the area’s topography of rolling hills and streams and farm lanes

WSSC began construction of a water filtration facility in 1930.  The plant featured a "state of art" design, by WSSC Chief Engineer Robert B. Morse, for rapid sand removal and water treatment

The plant had two filter assemblies, two pumping stations and a new concrete dam.  Pumping stations were designed in the Georgian Revival style to give the appearance of large colonial houses rather than a public utility

The low-lift pumping station moved cleaned (sediment free-water) to filter assemblies where lime and ammonia were added

The filter assemblies featured circular rings that were used for each stage of the filtration process, which included coagulation, filtration, and delivery

Chlorine was added as the high-lift pumping station moved treated water to WSSC distribution lines

The late Robert Brooks Morse (1880-1936) was married to Carrie Emma Ross-Morse (1883-1979). They had two children: Caroline Allen Morse (1903-1905) and Katherine B. Morse-Devereaux (1904-1984)

He was trained as a civil engineer at Johns Hopkins University (A.B. 1901) and at Massachusetts Institute of Technology (S.B. 1904).  He became Chief engineer at WSSC since its inception in 1918

Unfortunately, he died prematurely at age 55 due to blood poisoning, months before the water filtration plant opened.  WSSC named the water filtration plant in his honor

The water filtration plant did not have the capacity to meet rising service demands from suburban growth and it was closed in 1962. The Maryland-National Capital Park and Planning Commission acquired the former water plant in 2000.  Today they are recreational facilities known as Burnt Mills West Special Park (the high-lift pumping station) and Burnt Mills East Special Park (the low-lift pumping station)

There are no haunting legends associated with historical Burnt Mills nor the Robert B. Morse Water Filtration Facility. However, there may be potential for transcommunication experiences owing to area history.  The ghost expedition will focus on "drop-in" communications, and not on evidence for a haunting

The ghost expedition will also participate in National Ghost Hunting Day (NGHD), an event sponsored by Haunted Journeys magazine.  Connectivity and live streaming will be provided by SHINDIG. Digital marketing services for the event are being provided by CyberSpyder. The event will attempt to build a global “consciousness bridge” that will last two hours

Data from random event generators (REGs) belonging to the Global Consciousness Project  (GCP) that are in proximity to participant locations will be monitored over the event

Results from NGHD 2016 noted a marked shift in random walk trending generated by GCP REGs at the outset of last year’s event

Similar patterns were also encountered at NGHD start in MPR’s REG experiment in 2017 in Dundalk

The film project will not be open to the public but will be livestreamed over the SHINDIG platform.  Look for “Site, MD, USA, Burnt Mills West Special Park”

REFERENCES:

Beall, J.R. (1931). The history and construction of the mill at Burnt Mills, Maryland. Initiation Thesis. Records of Phi Mu Fraternity, Special Collections, University of Maryland Libraries.  University of Maryland, College Park. Hosted at archive.org

Boyd, T.H.S. (1879). The history of Montgomery County, Maryland - From its earliest settlement in 1650 to 1879. Baltimore, W.K. Boyle and Son

Bushong, W. (1994, May). Robert B. Morse Water Filtration Plant. M33-22. Maryland-National Capital Park And Planning Commission. Maryland Historical Trust

Cook, E.M.V. (1992, Nov). The Story of Burnt Mills. In The Montgomery County Story, Quarterly Journal of the Montgomery County Historical Society, Vol. 35. No. 4., Rockville, MD. pp 225-235. 

Find A Grave, database and images. Memorial page for Robert Brooks Morse (13 Sep 1880–31 Jan 1936), Find A Grave Memorial no. 135832899, citing Chebeague Island Cemetery, Chebeague Island, Cumberland County, Maine, USA. Maintained by townsendburial (contributor 47629974)

Historic Preservation, Montgomery County, Maryland. (1996, Mar 6). Montgomery County Atlas (MCATLAS) Map Viewer: ROBERT B. MORSE COMPLEX (WSSC). Resource Number: 33/022-000A. Maryland-National Capital Park And Planning Commission. Montgomery County, Maryland

Kelly, C.L. (2012). Burnt Mills Hills. M33-29. Maryland-National Capital Park And Planning Commission. Maryland Historical Trust

MONTGOMERY COUNTY, MARYLAND HISTORICAL CHRONOLOGY. (2018). Maryland State Archives

Montgomery Parks. (2016, Aug 15). Burnt Mills West Special Park. Maryland-National Capital Park And Planning Commission

Montgomery County Planning Department. Montgomery County Atlas (MCATLAS) Map Viewer: Burnt Mills West Special Park. Montgomery County (MD). Department of Parks. Montgomery County, Maryland

National Ghost Hunting Day: The World’s Largest Ghost Hunt. (2018).  Haunted Journeys

Shannon, J.H. (1913, Jun 22). With the Rambler. Sunday Star, Washington DC.  Reprinted in Neighbors of the Northwest Branch

Shannon, J.H. (1916, May 14).  With the Rambler: Tramping the Northwest Branch. Sunday Star, Washington DC.  Reprinted in Neighbors of the Northwest Branch

Sutton, R. (2016, Jun 16). Burnt Mills Dam has a long history in Montgomery County. Ross Sutton Blog. Keller Williams Real Estate

Williams, B.J. (2017).  Exploring Collective Consciousness: Could There Be Some Implications for Paranity?. National Ghost Hunting Day Collective Consciousness Article. Psychical Research Foundation

IMAGES:

Historic American Engineering Record. (1968). REAR ELEVATION of high-lift pumping station. Robert B. Morse Water Filtration Plant, 10700 and 10701 Columbia Pike, Silver Spring, Montgomery County, MD.  Library of Congress

Historic American Engineering Record. (1968). FRONT ELEVATION of high-lift pumping station. Colesville Road (also called U.S.Route 29 or Columbia Pike) is in foreground. Robert B. Morse Water Filtration Plant, 10700 and 10701 Columbia Pike, Silver Spring, Montgomery County, MD.  Library of Congress

Burnt Mills Flour Mill prior to its demolition - Figure 1. (c 1928).  From Beall, J.R. (1931). The history and construction of the mill at Burnt Mills, Maryland. Initiation Thesis. Records of Phi Mu Fraternity, Special Collections, University of Maryland Libraries.  University of Maryland, College Park.  Hosted at archive.org

Burnt Mills Flour Mill prior to its demolition - Figure 2. (c 1928).  From Beall, J.R. (1931). The history and construction of the mill at Burnt Mills, Maryland. Initiation Thesis. Records of Phi Mu Fraternity, Special Collections, University of Maryland Libraries.  University of Maryland, College Park.  Hosted at archive.org

Historic American Engineering Record. (1968). GROUND FLOOR of high-lift pumping station. Note the main stairway and columns. Robert B. Morse Water Filtration Plant, 10700 and 10701 Columbia Pike, Silver Spring, Montgomery County, MD.  Library of Congress

Historic American Engineering Record. (1968). ATTIC of high-lift pumping station showing steel framing and concrete slab roof units. Robert B. Morse Water Filtration Plant, 10700 and 10701 Columbia Pike, Silver Spring, Montgomery County, MD.  Library of Congress

Historic American Engineering Record. (1968). OFFICE SPACE ON SECOND FLOOR of high-lift pumping station. Robert B. Morse Water Filtration Plant, 10700 and 10701 Columbia Pike, Silver Spring, Montgomery County, MD.  Library of Congress

Historic American Engineering Record. (1968). BASEMENT of high-lift pumping station. Note steel I-beam and pump foundations. Robert B. Morse Water Filtration Plant, 10700 and 10701 Columbia Pike, Silver Spring, Montgomery County, MD.  Library of Congress

National Ghost Hunting Day: The World’s Largest Ghost Hunt. (2017).  Haunted Journeys

Montgomery Parks. (2016, Aug 15). SOUTHEAST ELEVATION. Burnt Mills West Special Park. Maryland-National Capital Park And Planning Commission

[casscharacters]

Muse #6- Henry Blair

There’s nothing particularly interesting about Henry Blair. The son of a lawyer and a homemaker he grew up with one older brother, Jason, and an older sister named Caroline. He attended normal schools and did normal things like play video games on the weekend and soccer on Thursdays nights. Henry was always the type of guy who flew under the radar. Nice enough but quiet he was the boy in 5th period you had a crush on but never talked to. Even going to university he did not do anything notable except study computer science and engineering which gave him the reputation of being smart, however with his older siblings as a heart surgeon and a neurosurgeon, even that was over shadowed. A late bloomer Henry did not have his first girlfriend until 25 and even that was only for 6 months. Henry is easily the kind of guy who blends in with the wallpaper. That was until about three years ago. Enjoying computers Henry always loved tinkering, it was during one of these tinkering sessions that he stumbled upon a weak point in a software program commonly used by the government created by a big name software company. After a few weeks of tinkering he himself came up with a patch and submitted it to the company as a goodwill gesture, a gesture that soon flipped everything around for Henry Blair. After reading his work and seeing his patch the company was floored how a random man in Virginia could find and fix something so well hidden that not even the company’s best software engineers knew it existed. Inadvertently Henry had not only saved the company from a billion dollar lawsuit but the American government from what could have been the largest security breach in US history. Boring Henry Blair was deemed a genius and a savior and suddenly the man who previously working at Best Buy was being head hunted by the largest software firms in the world as well as the government. Three years later he is a contractor and lives in an expensive house just outside of New York City, he’ s worth a few million, and suddenly he’s the Blair with the most interesting career. That doesn’t mean Henry Blair is any different than he was years ago, he’s still the awkward, shy guy from Virginia but now with a few 0s behind his name. 

Basic Information

Full Name: Henry Calvin Blair

Nickname(s): Hen

Age: 29

Date of Birth: June 11th 1990

Hometown: Norfolk, Virginia

Current Location: new york city, new york.

Ethnicity: caucasian.

Nationality: american

Gender: cis male.

Pronouns: he/him.

Orientation: heterosexual / heteroromantic. 

Religion: none

Political Affiliation: left leaning

Occupation: software engineer

Living Arrangements: 6 bedroom waterfront home in Douglaston

Language(s) Spoken: English

Accent: small stutter when he’s nervous

Physical Appearance

Face Claim: Jack Quaid

Hair Colour: brown.

Eye Colour: brown

Height: 6′1″

Weight: 160 lb

Build: slim

Tattoos: none

Piercings: none.

Clothing Style: sleek, comfortable

Usual Expression: smile, friendly

Health

Physical Ailments: none.

Neurological Conditions: anxiety

Allergies: shellfish

Sleeping Habits: regular sleeping schedule, 7-8 hours nightly

Eating Habits: typical, usually relatively clean/expensive

Exercise Habits: never

Emotional Stability: 10, aside from the occasional panic attack, Henry is very centered

Sociability: sociable around people he knows, tends to be quiet/anti social with strangers

Body Temperature: cold

Addictions: none

Drug Use: none

Alcohol Use: very little, he gets drunk off of 3 beers

Personality

Label: The Serendipitous 

Positive Traits: sweet, genuine, light hearted, compassionate

Negative Traits: shy, nervous, oblivious, lacks confidence

Goals/Desires: to continue his career and maybe find himself someone to love

Fears: heights

Hobbies: bike riding, sailing, reading, tinkering

Habits: sneaking up on people, fidgeting, ruffling hair

Favourites

Weather: sunny spring day

Colour: green

Music: indie rock

Movies: comedy

Sport: sailing

Beverage: apple juice

Food: grilled cheese

Animal: whales

Family

Father: Daryl Blair; defense attorney

Mother: Claire Blair; homemaker

Sibling(s): Jason Blair; heart surgeon. Caroline Blair-Red; neurosurgeon.

In-laws:   Kimberly Blair; homemaker. Jeremy Red; surgeon.

Nieces: Vera Blair; 11. Jennifer Blair; 8. Clara Blair; 4 months. Maggie Red; 4. June Red; 2.

Nephews: Maxwell Blair; 5. Jess Blair; 2. Finn Red; unborn

Pet(s): Kyle; cat. Barbara; cat. Charles; jack russell terrier. 

Family’s Financial Status: upper class; self built

Extra

Zodiac Sign: Gemini (+) always on the move, intelligent, intuitive (-) easily bored, indifferent

MBTI: infp, “the idealist”. ( Introversion (I), Intuition (N), Feeling (F), Perception (P) )

Enneagram: the loyalist

Temperament: melancholic; Vulnerable, creative, empathic, smart, emotional

Hogwarts House: hufflepuff

Moral Alignment: lawful good, ‘.the crusader’

Primary Vice: envy

Primary Virtue: temperance

Element: earth

[patiencetaught]

@damnedcrybaby​ cont.

It’s hard to hear much of anything over the hustle and bustle of the barn.

Hooves against hay, horses neighing or the older dairy cow lettin’ out a solid moo of appreciation for attention… The Jacksons’ animals weren’t as plentiful as they were once upon a time, before their Papa passed away– but the few that were still there made plenty of noise.

Mostly when there was company: much like now.

And yet– just barely, above the subtle background noise of farm life, a low hum of a song could be heard; nearby where a window had been opened at the far end of the barn. Dust speckled the incoming sun’s rays– there was work being done.

“One evenin’ as the sun went down, an’ the jungle fire was burnin’, down the track came’a hobo hikin’ an’ he said: ‘Boys, i’m not turnin’. I’m headed for’a land that’s far ‘way, besides the crystal fountain– so come with me, we’ll go an’ see the Big Rock Candy Mount’ns.”

In the farthest stall from the entrance: Daniel stood, whistling a moment, surveying the questionable progress he’d made. The floor had been cleaned, new hay laid down, even getting warm thanks to the afternoon’s sun filtering in… Good. A nod. This was good.

“In ‘em Big Rock Candy Mount’ns, there’s’a land that’s fair an’ bright, where the handouts grow on bushes an’ ya sleep out ev’ry night… Where the boxcars all’re empty, an’ the sun shines ev’ry day…”

He reached over, for a quilt he’d previously had tossed over the windowsill, methodically flipped it through the air so it’d drop over the bit of hay he’d gone and so precisely bundled together in a corner.

“… on’em birds and the bees, an’ the cigarette trees; the lemonade springs where’a bluebird sings, in them Big Rock Candy Mountains…”

A smile edged at the corner of his mouth when he finally appeared satisfied, and went out of the stall to move across the way and open the one parallel–

“In ‘em Big Rock Candy Mountains… all ‘em cops got wooden legs. An’ the bulldogs all have rubber teeth, an’ the hens lay—-”

Then, finally, he noticed he wasn’t alone… The song ceased, he pretended not to notice a blush hit his face…

“You’re quieter than the kittens,” he’d have been more to say, but the task wasn’t done, yet! Daniel proceeded with opening the stall, stood knowingly to the side… as three sheep stumbled their way across to the bed he’d been busy with; two little, limbly, fumbling babies and one much more sure mother.

“Tell Caroline I spoil ‘em like this and I’ll deny it–” shot Jenny a wink before shutting the stall door behind the fluffy family, and trying to appear as nonchalant as humanly POSSIBLE while his heart flip, flopped, and fluttered at the sight of her…

“Speakin’ of… she send you out to check on me again? Believe it or not, Ms. Honey, I learned my lesson first time ya’ saved me…”

No longer was Jenny being shuffled out of the house as Caroline’s errand girl to check on her friend’s big brother, but instead, she was a lady coming out to offer her gentleman friend some oven-fresh baked goods. Although, perhaps those weren’t terribly different scenarios from one another on the surface, but they certainly FELT different. For one, her heart seemed to be beating faster on this walk back to the Jackson’s barn-- much faster than it had been the first time Caroline had sent her out-- and that wasn’t even to mention that the flush that colored her cheeks was not due to the heat this time.

As she finally approached the small structure towards the edge of the Jackson’ backyard, Jenny made her best effort to ease open the large wooden door as quietly as she could before easing into the barn. She tried to keep her footfalls as silent as she could manage as she began to pad over the straw that lined the barn floor, trying to listen for a sound that might provide a hint as to what nook or cranny the elder Jackson sibling had currently tucked himself away in.

And it didn’t take long before she got it.

It was a soft, just barely audible over the noises of the animals, but from the moment she heard it, rosebud lips couldn’t help but curve up into a soft, endeared smile. He was singing to himself. Of course, it was clear that he wasn’t trained as a singer, but his voice still sounded sweet to her. Almost as sweet as the fantasy land in his song. Almost as sweet as those smiles he gave her when she caught his eye from across the room.

And if she’d been able, she would have happily done that all day, just listening to him sing to himself when he thought it was only him and the animals, while he thought no one was listening.

But some things were not meant to be and her desire to remain unnoticed was quickly shattered as Daniel’s head poked around the stall at the far end of the barn, catching her right in the act.

A flush of pink began to bloom across Jenny’s cheek, her blue eyes meekly dropping to her feet as he acknowledged her, feeling somewhat embarrassed by being caught in her little lapse into vouyerism. 

“I’m terribly sorry. I should have announced myself. I hope I didn’t startle you,” she apologized, taking the moment to close the rest of the distance between the two of them, only pausing to watch the trio of sheep trot into the new home that Daniel had so carefully crafted for them. A smile tugged at her lips again, reminiscent of the one that had been tugging on her lips a moment earlier while he’d been singing of his Rock Candy Mountain paradise. 

“Your secret is safe with me,” Jenny assured gently, moving in a bit closer to peer into the pen at the new lambs. “And no, she didn’t send me. I just wanted to come out and ask if you’d like some ginger-molasses cookies. We just took them out of the oven and I thought you might like one while they’re still warm.”