#Gang Box Manufacturers

[precisionelectricals]

Precision Electricals offers a comprehensive range of electrical accessories designed for safety and functionality. From connectors to mounting solutions, each product ensures reliable performance and durability, making them essential for residential and commercial electrical systems.

[hmpswitchegrs]

Top Product Modular Gang Box Manufacturers in India

In HMPSWITCHEGRS Modular Gang Box Manufacturers World Class Manufacturing Company in modular gang boxes, Innovative Solutions in electrical and industrial applications. Designed to afford the customer flexibility and a high degree of reliability while still being very easy to use. We put the highest grade materials and take utmost pride in paying attention to detail using the best technology available.". What is more, other industrial sectors, such as construction, manufacturing, and telecommunication will require our modular gang boxes among others. Here at HMPSWITCHEGRS, we strive to produce quality products and services so that the customer walks out of these premises better off than when he or she entered.

Do you want me to explain more about this, or do you'd like to know more about HMPSWITCHEGRS?

[digitalm45]

Top modular gang box manufacturers

Modular gang box manufacturers produce versatile electrical enclosures designed for easy installation and customization in various construction projects. These boxes feature interchangeable components, allowing for flexible configurations to accommodate different wiring needs. They are crafted with durable materials, ensuring long-term reliability and safety in residential, commercial, and industrial applications. you can contact us on +91-9311295016, +91-9711220188.address- B-76, Sector-5, DSIIDC Bawana Industrial Area, New Delhi-110039

[fluentmoviequoter]

Pretending You Can't

Pairing: Adam Karadec x fem!cop(analyst)!reader

Summary: You're touch starved and wishing to make friends in the LAPD, but you move divisions so often that it becomes difficult. While working with the Major Crimes unit, you find a solution to both problems.

Warnings: depiction of touch starvation, discussion of difficulty making friends, murder case, fluff, comfort, OOC Karadec

Word Count: 4.1k+ words

A/N: I love Karadec so much. Hope someone can enjoy this.🫶🏼

“Melon alert,” someone whispers as they rush past you.

You roll your eyes and turn to the next page of your report. Lieutenant Melon is annoying, but he has yet to request your direct assistance. That is one of the few benefits of being quiet and reserved in a Los Angeles Police station. It is, however, far outweighed by the downfalls. You’re lonely, and you want to make friends at work, even though you are quiet. Each time you meet someone you think could be a friend, you get moved to a new desk or a new division and have to start all over. Maybe, you think, I’m just not made to have friends.

You stand and stretch your arms over your head. The report on your desk must be signed by Melon, but he’s busy, so you walk down the hall to stretch your legs and get something from the break room.

“Sorry,” you apologize as your shoulder hits someone backing out of the elevator. It feels like the skin on your shoulder is on fire, and pain like pins and needles travels down your arm. This would have been a good indicator something was wrong if you hadn’t already known you were touch-starved. Shaking your arm, you see the large box in his arms and ask, “Do you need help with that?”

“Please,” he answers.

You slide your hands under the side opposite him, and he lowers it to rest between your chests.

“Thank you.”

“No problem. Detective Osman, right?”

He nods and somehow knows your name, too. You look around briefly as he leads you through the door into Major Crimes. This is one area you have not worked in, but you think you’d like it. The people in this division are kind when you see them in the station, and they do good work. Your gaze hits Detective Karadec, and you look away quickly, telling yourself it’s because you need to watch where you’re going.

“It’s too much,” he says, his shoulders moving up in a short shrug as he nods. Something about his body language disarms many people, but every time you see him, you’re drawn in by him.

Lieutenant Soto exits her office, pinching the bridge of her nose. Detective Osman sighs as he looks at her, then thanks you quietly. You smile and nod, then walk toward the door. Before you reach it, Soto calls your name. Turning slowly, you raise your brows and hold your hands against your stomach.

“Yes, ma’am?” you answer.

“You worked in the gang unit last year, correct?” she inquires.

“Yes, but only for a few months in the spring.”

“Are you familiar with the name…” she pauses to look at a sticky note in her hand, then says, “Victor Kwang?”

Nodding, you explain, “I did the paperwork for his arrest warrant, the affidavit, I mean, and some research into his accomplices and manufacturing.”

“Did you find the factory in Westlake?” a woman in a cheetah-print skirt asks.

“Excuse her,” Karadec interjects as he spins his chair to face you. “This is Morgan Gillory.”

You’ve heard about Morgan, or as Melon calls her, the cleaning lady, but if she already found Kwang’s Westlake factory, she’s better than you thought.

“I did,” you tell her. “It wasn’t operational at the time, but it was searched. Turned up practically nothing.”

“Okay,” Morgan drawls slowly. “It’s not in the report.”

Karadec watches how your brows pinch, and your eyes shift like you’re thinking.

“There’s another report,” he guesses.

“I only worked on one.”

He nods once before spinning his chair to use the computer. Opening the report they’re going on, he scrolls to the bottom of the first page to see who completed the report.

“It wasn’t this one,” he says, looking over his shoulder at Detective Daphne Forrester.

She raises her hands and says, “It’s the only one that came up when I typed in Victor Kwang.”

You focus on your memory of completing the report and ask Daphne, “Are most of his arrests for assault?”

“90%,” she replies.

“Wrong Victor Kwang,” you say. “When that case was open, there was a lot of.. discontent, I guess, in Koreatown. The DA said they had every right to be treated exactly the same here as in Korea.”

Karadec scoffs and shakes his head. You agree; it didn’t make sense, but you complied.

“So?” Osman asks.

“His arrest record and the reports from that investigation have his Korean name on it. Kwang Kyu. Surname first, given name, and everything we have on him is in that file.”

Soto raises her brows at Karadec, unseen by you. He looks between you and his lieutenant, then to Morgan.

“Who are you reporting to now?” Soto asks you.

“Lieutenant Melon,” you reply. Quieter, you add, “Technically.”

“I think it’s time for a change,” she muses before returning to her office.

“Did you do this whole report?” Daphne asks, looking up from her computer. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thanks,” you answer softly. Without Soto as a buffer and the contained topic of police work, you’re unsure how to talk to the detectives you’ve looked up to for so long.

Soto returns from her office and smiles as she instructs, “Pack up. You’re coming to Major Crimes.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Oz asks.

Soto looks away from the door that just closed behind you and levels her gaze on Karadec.

“I think she can help,” he states. “Morgan didn’t catch that the report was for the wrong guy.”

“You didn’t either,” she argues.

“Where does she usually work?” Daphne wonders aloud. “I see her around from time to time, but never in the same place twice.”

“She jumps around,” Soto explains.

“Why?” Oz adds. “Hard to work with? Trying to find where to use a golden ticket?”

“She’s good,” Karadec answers. “She can do close to everything. Chief decided to pass around the talent.”

“And how do you know that?” Soto challenges, her brows raised knowingly.

He looks at her from the corner of his eyes, then shakes his head.

“If Kwang opened a factory in Westlake, he probably did it to get away from the suspicions about what he was doing in Koreatown,” Morgan muses. “His factories form a parallelogram with an overlaid pyramid. When you look at those on a map, they center around one place.”

“Being?” Karadec presses, sounding more tired than he had with you.

She moves closer to the caseboard and examines the map briefly. “Hotel Normandie.”

“Koreatown?” Daphne clarifies.

“Yep. 605 Normandie Avenue.”

“And what is that supposed to tell us?” Karadec sighs.

“I…” Morgan purses her lips to trace her nail along the map.

“You’re missing another shape,” you point out as you return with a small tote bag of your things.

Soto’s eyes widen, and she presses her lips together to hide her smile. You’ve been here for less than five minutes, and you’re providing information Morgan can’t. They all know it’s because of how long you spent studying Victor Kwang, but it’s still interesting to see.

“Hotel Normandie is one of Kwang’s favorite spots. It’s less than thirty minutes from the Hollywood Bowl, Griffith Observatory, LA County Museum of Art, Natural History Museum, and Dodger Stadium. That’s a-“

“Pentagram,” Morgan finishes. “He could get around to all of them and back to the hotel in 2 hours without traffic.”

“Add Forest Lawn,” you add, setting your bag on an empty chair. “And you’ve got a hexagon.”

Karadec stands at the word hexagon, and you wonder what they’re working on.

“DB was called in this morning,” he tells you as he slides his cell phone and a bottle of hand sanitizer into his pocket. “It was found at the corner of Wilshire and Crenshaw. There was a note in the vic’s pocket with the name Victor Kwang written repeatedly. The note was folded into a hexagon.”

“And that intersection is in Kwang’s criminal hexagon,” Morgan adds.

“The victim had his visa,” Daphne says as if she’s reading your mind to answer your questions. “ID’ed him as Chang Shirong. Came in from China four months ago, so he likely would have been traveling back within the next few weeks.”

“Six months. He had a B-1 visa?” you realize incredulously. “What business activities was he conducting?”

“I’ve got that,” Oz interjects, holding an open file. “He had a relatively legitimate clothing business and was negotiating contracts with Lids and Fanatics.”

“How long ago did he get approved for the visa?” Morgan asks.

“Five years ago,” Daphne answers.

You fall silent and listen, happy to stay here and complete their paperwork while they go out in the field and put Kwang back in jail. Provided that he’s found guilty, of course.

“When was Kwang released after the sweatshop factory fiasco?” Karadec asks, though his gaze strays to you.

“Five-and-a-half years ago,” Oz reads. “Could have easily gotten in with Chang to move operations overseas.”

“The Government Accountability Office would’ve had Kwang on a short leash,” Soto states. “If Kwang broke that kind of labor law, he wouldn’t have been able to conduct business of any type, not for a while at least.”

“Not necessarily,” Morgan counters, raising her finger.

“Here we go,” Karadec murmurs, holding his fist against his chin.

“AB633 holds California garment manufacturers responsible for sweatshop conditions. It ensures workers are paid minimum wage and overtime. Because of that, the Labor Commissioner can bring lawsuits on behalf of the whole workforce to guarantee wages and – this is the important part – revoke the registration of the manufacturer that fails to pay a wage award. They up new registration fees, but can't legally keep someone from reopening a business based only on wage crimes.”

“Sounds like you need to look into the sweatshops,” Soto says before telling everyone where to go.

You pull a chair to Daphne’s desk to help her trace Kwang since his release from prison, and she smiles as she whispers, “Teach me your ways.”

You send her a small smile and immediately decide that you want to be friends with Daphne Forrester. The longer you sit beside her and across from Oz, the easier it is to open up and offer your ideas and theories.

“Oz,” Morgan calls as she returns a few hours after leaving. “Karadec needs you to throw a phone book at someone.”

“We still don’t do that,” he replies as he exits the office.

“What are we working on?” Morgan asks as she takes Oz’s chair.

“We found Kwang’s quote ‘professional’ activities since leaving prison,” Daphne explains.

“Any theories?”

“I don’t have any.” Daphne gestures toward you as she adds, “This one has some great ones.”

“Lay ‘em on me,” Morgan requests. “Unless you don’t want to.”

“You must be a very good mom,” you murmur.

“I have a teenager,” she says, “I know the signs of someone not wanting to talk to me. I also notice when someone’s eyes wander to a certain detective.”

“Karadec?!” Daphne exclaims, tapping her hand against your arm and igniting invisible flames beneath your sleeve.

You drop your head and wring your fingers together. “I think Kwang met someone in prison who could set him up with an overseas businessman. Your victim flew in on a visitor’s visa a week before Kwang was released and stayed for nearly two months. If they met then, Chang had a reason to get a business visa and make regular trips to visit his business partner.”

“Any idea who could’ve known both of them?” Morgan wonders.

“That’s where we found the hiccup,” Daphne answers.

You have an idea, but it doesn’t make sense, so you stay quiet. Morgan and Daphne look at you, then at each other. Morgan nods before she stands.

“You’re coming to my house for dinner,” she says. “It wasn’t an invitation or a question, you’re coming. Let’s go.”

Daphne nods and tells you to have a good night, so you follow Morgan out of the station. While you walk into the parking lot, she slows and looks toward you.

“You like Karadec,” she begins. “When you’re not incredibly focused, your eyes stray to him. It happens when you’re not confident in your statements, too.”

“I- he-“ you try before deciding to say, “Sorry.”

“Oh, don’t be. I notice a lot, and I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. Maybe you should try to just talk to him tomorrow, share one of those good ideas you kept to yourself today.”

“I thought that was your job.”

Morgan smiles. “If it gets Karadec to smile, I’ll relinquish my duty to you for a day.”

“Why would that make him smile?”

“You can figure that out, detective.”

Morgan begins walking again, and as she opens her car door, you call, “I’m not a detective!”

The following morning, you enter the station early with a mental list of names and information to look into. Walking into Major Crimes, you’re not entirely surprised to see Karadec already at his desk.

“You’re early,” he muses. “You can use Oz’s desk.”

“Thanks.” You lower into Oz’s seat and use your station login to access the police database.

“Help yourself,” he offers, gesturing to a donut box.

You smile and take one of your favorites. If you had to guess, you never would have assumed that Karadec was the one who brought the donuts every week. Maybe they take turns, you think.

As you work quietly beside Karadec, you run through each idea you have. Each search that fails to provide a helpful result discourages you more than the last.

“Pass me the Kwang file?” Karadec requests.

His fingers brush against yours as he takes the extended file. He thanks you, but you don’t hear it as your nerves alight. You try to hide the pain in your hand as you place it back on the keyboard. Failing to remember the last time you were hugged or even simply touched in a way that lets you know someone cared about you, you force yourself to focus. Your hand curls into a fist as the pain subsides, and then you return to work.

With your focus on the lack of touch you’ve experienced recently, you don’t notice Karadec watching you. He’s known since before you joined their team that there is more to you than people think.

As the rest of Major Crimes begins arriving, you log out and pull a chair to the corner of Daphne’s desk to continue working with her. Karadec tries to focus, but when you are close, he finds it hard to do.

“Good morning,” Morgan greets, sitting beside you. She lowers her voice to remind you, “Talk to Karadec.”

“All of my ideas turned up nothing,” you explain softly.

“And?” Oz asks as he approaches the other side of Daphne’s desk.

“She likes Karadec,” Morgan replies.

Your eyes widen as you look over at her. Daphne stifles a laugh, and Oz shrugs as if that isn’t new information.

“Yeah, yeah,” Morgan murmurs. “Et tu, good report maker. Seriously, tell him something. You have more ideas; I can see it.”

“Any new theories?” Karadec asks, turning his seat to face Daphne’s crowded desk.

“I think the order of the hexagon was wrong,” you blurt out.

“Why would the order matter?” Oz inquires.

Karadec watches you, listening carefully. Morgan smiles and shakes her head knowingly before she winks at Daphne.

“If the route matters, then traffic, travel times, and when the places are actual targets changes.”

“Targets?” Karadec repeats.

“I assumed you were evaluating the places based on their proximity to his former sweatshops,” you explain. “So, he could use them as alibis, to recruit workers, or in this case, to lure Chang into his previous enterprise to undermine Chang’s business.”

“Like a sightseeing tour for bad guys,” Oz translates.

“Alternatively, they were on their way to one of these places and Chang dropped some news about taking a larger profit margin or something, Kwang was outraged and killed him.”

“In which case, he’d want to get another shop up and running ASAP,” Morgan comments.

“Let’s run with that theory,” Karadec decides. “We’ll split up and check the different points on the hexagon. Use Kwang’s previous warehouses for ideas about where he’d be holed up or operating a new factory.”

“Someone from Immigration is here with Chang’s visa information,” Soto says.

“I got it,” Oz offers. “Go find this guy.”

“I’ll go with Daphne,” Morgan announces.

“Okay,” Karadec agrees, standing. “Which direction do we go?”

“Hotel Normandie faces east,” you answer. “Most people turn right when leaving a building, so he’d be pretty likely to go South. The art museum would either be first or last because it’s west of the hotel.”

“We’ll take the southern locations starting with the Natural History Museum. Then we’ll hit Dodger Stadium and go around. Daphne and Morgan, go west to the art museum then north toward Griffith Observatory. Overlapping visits should double our chances.”

“Yeah, that’s not how percentage of chance works,” Morgan replies. “I’ll explain it later.”

“Oh, good,” Karadec deadpans.

“So…” Karadec begins as he drives toward the natural history museum. “What did you want to do when you joined the department?”

“At first, I didn’t know. Then I realized I wanted to become a detective,” you answer. “I think it’s too late for that.”

“Never know. What made you decide?”

“A lot of detectives worth looking up to. Including you.”

You realize what you said and chew the inside of your bottom lip as you wait for Karadec to say something. Anything.

“Thank you,” he says after a moment. “Although you had better options.”

“I didn’t know Daphne yet,” you joke, pulling a rare smile from him. “Hey, slow down. That building should be condemned.”

Karadec slows as he steers the car onto the gravel shoulder. He watches the shadows moving in the covered windows and radios for backup.

“ETA two minutes,” dispatch replies.

“Uh, Karadec?” you interrupt.

“Yeah?”

“Door just opened.”

You watch Victor Kwang exit the warehouse in an expensive suit. He notices the car and then runs along the side of the building. You don’t hesitate to exit Karadec’s car and chase him, ignoring Karadec’s yells for you to wait.

As you round the western side of the warehouse, you speed up and push off your right foot to tackle Victor Kwang. He grunts as he lands in the dirt, and you pant through your recitation of his Miranda rights. Karadec approaches behind you and passes you a pair of handcuffs.

“Maybe we should let you carry those next time,” he says. “Is that your car, Mr. Kwang?”

“Lawyer,” Kwang replies as you turn him to make him sit up.

“In that case, I’ll go ahead and get it towed to the station in violation of California Vehicle Code 22500,” Karadec says, pulling his phone from his pocket.

You look at the car and smile. “Section f: A person shall not stop or park on a portion of a sidewalk.”

“It’s my sidewalk!” Kwang argues as sirens approach the front of the building.

“It’s the city’s sidewalk,” Karadec says. He takes your place and pulls Kwang’s arm to make him stand. “So, we’ll be searching your illegally parked car when it arrives at the station.”

After an officer takes Kwang, you take a deep breath.

“Are you okay?” Karadec checks, laying his hand on your shoulder.

Your muscles tense, pulling into a tight knot before immediately releasing to be more relaxed than before Karadec touched you. He feels every movement and realizes by the movement that you are devastatingly touch-starved. Karadec does not like touching things or people, you’ve noticed, but you’re both acutely aware of how well his hand fits on you.

“I’m okay,” you answer quietly.

The moment ends abruptly when Karadec’s phone rings. He removes his hand from your shoulder to answer Daphne’s call, but his warmth lingers as you follow him back to the car.

After Kwang confesses to receive a plea deal and offers up the international crime matchmaker who introduced him to Chang, you return home. Your hand raises to your shoulder, where Karadec touched you. Now that the case is closed, you’ll likely be transferred out of Major Crimes again and lose the four people you think you could have been friends with. Again.

Someone knocks on your door, and you approach it quietly to look through the peephole. Sighing, you open the door and silently invite Karadec into your home.

“Is everything okay?” you ask. “Soto told me I could finish the reports in the morning.”

“No, that’s fine,” he replies, looking briefly around your living room before bending back slightly with his hands in his pockets. “I… I think I can help you.”

Your mouth opens, but you take a moment to find the right words. “Do you mean that the other way? Can I help you again?”

“No, no,” he answers with a smile. “Can I just show you?”

“Sure,” you say slowly.

Adam pulls his hands from his pockets as he steps toward you. You inhale quickly at his proximity, and when his hands raise, you hold your breath. Tensing your muscles as Karadec lays his hands on your waist, you swallow. His thumbs brush wide arcs between your ribs as your body relaxes at his touch.

“Oh,” you realize under your breath.

“You said you looked up to me as a detective. I admire you as a lot more than that.”

The initial pain of his touch fades, and you seem to melt beneath his hands. If you’re going to react like this, Karadec thinks, he may never take his hands off you.

“I thought you didn’t like touching things with germs,” you remember.

“Found an exception.”

Karadec smiles as you argue, “Soto won’t like that.”

One of his hands slides from your waist and catches your hand. You instinctively try to pull away because it hurts, but he holds you tighter, drops his smile, and whispers, “It’s okay.”

You nod and shift your hands to interlace your fingers with his.

“If you want help with this,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb across your knuckles. “I’m here. But you tell me when to stop.”

“Why?” you inquire.

Karadec doesn’t answer, and you admit, “I have feelings for you. Like… feelings. I understand if that makes you feel different and you don’t want me close anymore.”

“Feelings?” he repeats, using the tone you used the second time. “Should it make me feel different?”

Your brows furrow and Karadec returns both hands to your waist.

“It doesn’t,” he assures you, dropping his hands.

“There’s hand sanitizer in my bag, behind you,” you offer.

“Soto sent me over to tell you she wants you in Major Crimes full-time,” Karadec interjects. “It’s up to you, though.”

“Would that… Do you care if I say yes?”

“I’m not going to answer that.”

“You’re not really helping me here.”

He nods in a small circular movement which tells you he doesn’t care about that. His smile, however, makes you smile.

“I have wanted to be a detective for a long time,” you muse.

“Anyone you’d be leaving behind in the other divisions?”

“Oh, yeah,” you answer sarcastically. “I’m just swimming in friends, hence the extreme touch starvation.”

“Give Soto your answer in the morning,” he requests. “I’ll see you there?”

“Of course.”

You watch Karadec leave, and when you wrap your arms around your waist, nothing happens. No pain, no pins or needles, just warmth and the memory of Karadec's touch.

When Karadec enters Major Crimes the morning after visiting you, you’re nowhere to be seen.

“Daph!” he calls. “Where is she?”

“Morgan?” she clarifies.

“She’s finishing paperwork,” Oz answers. “Transfer papers, I’d guess.”

“I need signatures,” Soto says, exiting her office.

“Beautiful,” Daphne whispers as she signs your completed report.

“Yes, it is,” Karadec agrees, though his eyes are up, watching you enter the office with a smile.

“Where’d the grumpy persona go?” you whisper as you place a donut box on your new desk.

“I’d guess wherever he left it last night,” Soto answers, looking between you.

Morgan enters, spouting theories about another case but stops when she sees you. “I told you! You just had to stop pretending you couldn’t do it.”

“Hey,” Daphne calls, pointing at you with a sprinkled donut. “No ‘will they, won’t they,’ okay? Do it or don’t, but I can’t watch my friends dance around each other.”

“We’re friends?” you repeat.

“Duh.”

“So…” Morgan begins. “Are you okay with a group hug or do you need some more time?”

You look at Karadec, who shrugs, and then you nod. As you’re wrapped in warmth and care by your new friends – and Karadec, who you hope can be more than a friend – you realize that you finally found where you belong, and you’re not pretending anymore. You can do this. You can do the job, the friendships, and the openness.

[nuzipilled]

I really love your human au designs (as an ugly man I must stay silent on how much I love J she's so fuckfkfnc pretty)

I do have some questions about the B-team and the rest of the au hahaha

Are Thad, Doll and Lizzy a friend group or are they mostly separate?

Is there a plan on what Khan, Nori, Yeva and Alice up to? Personally I'd love to hear your ideas on their 'regular' counterparts (Khan's definitely doing home security or door manufacturing)

Is the Jessa gonna ever be real...

Who in the gang can actually drive and what car (my vehicle autism wouldn't let me not ask this question)

Will we ever see some Intern Mitchell representation in the au?? He's the best character in the show after all (/j)

oh gosh J is probably my fav out of all of them—(I may be biased) I just had the most fun drawing her. as for the B team, they’re not exactly a group but doll and lizzy are friends with eachother and make it everyone elses problem.

Khan, Nori, Yeva and Alice are all in this au, Yeva is Nori’s sister which makes Doll her cousin. We dont focus too too much on them but there will be a few (mostly awkward) interactions courtesy of three traumatized veterans, their autistic, creepy gremlin of a housemate/sister, and their equally as autistic doctor who’s methods are…hippocraticatically questionable that their strange kids bring home like a box of stray kittens. I havent figured out Yeva, Nori or Alice but Khan is definitely in some kind of engineering/security company.

JESSA IS REAL and the one thing i will be saying about it is that nuzi is NOT the painful awful torturous frustratingly oblivious slowburn ship of this au. Tessa is STUPID. J is GAY. we will leave it at that

Tessa can drive. She has a shitty toyota corolla she paid more money to ship over to the states from AUS than on a first class ticket or a rental car. Its name is Bertie, she has no AC, shocks, or a working left back door and everyone HATES it because it is their main source of transportation. V is capable of driving but does not own a car. N and J are both unfit to drive for different reasons but both as a result of post traumatic stress.

As for mitchell, i dont know! it would be cute to have him in here somewhere, if only i could find a way to work him in…

[foxes-that-run]

That time 1D posed for Vogue with a Taylor lookalike next to Harry:

December British Vogue: The Fab Five Full Interview

By Jo Ellison 18 December 2012 (x)

Photographed by Patrick Demarchelier wearing a Christian Dior dress - with One Direction - for the December 2012 issue of British Vogue. Patrick Demarchelier

In just two years, since coming third on X Factor, they've charged their way to global fame, smashed new records and set millions of hearts aflutter. Not bad for a boy band who don't dance. Jo Ellison tries to catch up with One Direction in the December issue of Vogue.

Could it be that the only person in the world not familiar with One Direction is Patrick Demarchelier, the photographer today charged with capturing the fab five for Vogue. Sitting on a battered leather sofa in a comfortable studio in north London, his typical Gallic indifference to the upcoming task is almost comic. "So, oo iz ziss zat we are shooting?" he appeals to the room. "The Beatles?" Pretty much, an entourage of overexcited females nod back. He shrugs, and glances at his watch.

For the benefit of Demarchelier - or those who don't associate regularly with seven-year-olds, televisions or radios, or those of us of a slightly older vintage with dubious moral intentions - One Direction are currently the biggest pop band in the world. In two years, since coming third in the reality talent factory X Factor, they have achieved successes even Simon Cowell couldn't have quite dreamt of. At the time of writing, Messrs Liam Payne, Harry Styles, Zayn Malik, Louis Tomlinson and Niall Horan are number one in 50 countries, boast about 10 million Facebook fans and lead more than 6.5 million followers on Twitter. Their debut album, Up All Night (a pop-pourri of infinitely familiar but earwormy tracks, including the ubiquitous summer anthem What Makes You Beautiful), was the first by a British act to go straight to number one in America. Ever. Its release coincided with an epic, global, sellout tour, during which their every movement was accompanied by a shrieking tsunami of tweenage desire. They've just recorded a "difficult" second album in Sweden.

Critics may dispute their musical legitimacy - they don't write songs, nor play instruments, nor dance (unless you count swaying vigorously on the spot). Neither was their genesis remotely organic; the five were thrown together "live" on air when they failed to persuade the X Factor judges of their strength as soloists. In short, they are as manufactured as McDonald's. But 1D, as their apparently un-ironic moniker would now have them, are the modern pop phenomenon. As Alexa Chung puts it: "They're no Beatles, obviously, but it's nice to see a boy band dress well for a change. They remind me of a box of puppies at Christmas - each one more adorable than the next."

The question as to exactly who is the most adorable remains the most hotly contested debate in the playground today. Is it Liam, from Wolverhampton, star sign Virgo, with his newly shorn, post break-up crew cut, his phobia of spoons and his excellent Kermit the Frog impression? Or Zayn, a chocolate-eyed Capricorn from Bradford, who has three sisters, always wears two pairs of socks and can't swim? Maybe it's Louis, the green-eyed granddaddy of the gang, another Capricorn, this time from Doncaster, about to turn 21 and one of only two members to hold a driving licence. Is it little Niall, Virgo, a blond moppet from Mullingar in Ireland, with not-so-invisible invisible braces, "a soft spot for girls with green eyes" and a habit of curling up and dozing off at any given opportunity?

Or is it Harry? Which, of course, it is, because if you have heard nothing whatsoever of One Direction you have probably heard of Harry Styles, the hazel-eyed, mop-topped, bedimpled lead singer and baby of the group, with whom the whole world has fallen in love. Harry, an Aquarian, who hails from the village of Holmes Chapel in Cheshire. Harry, whose delightful scowl of petulant confusion, like a teddy bear trying to do trigonometry, has skewered millions of fluttering hearts, and has wooed scores of women if the papers are to be believed (and wouldn't you, if you were he and had that kind of opportunity?). Harry, whose favourite food is tacos, who hates mayonnaise, adores the Beatles, likes to perform Justin Bieber at karaoke and who is the first to introduce himself to the assembled crew when the band arrive, two hours earlier than scheduled, throwing everyone into a paroxysm of panic that even the best Carry On film couldn't emulate.

"You're never going to get used to walking into a room and have people screaming at you," he says of his status as World's Most Fanciable Adolescent, as a stylist fumbles around him with a black tie in as professional a manner as she can muster. Despite being so terribly attractive, with his lazy northern brogue and cursedly pretty face, he has managed to stay sanguine about his fame. "There's a lot of things that come with the life you could get lost in," he says, eyes flickering earnestly under the signature 'do (ebony curls, fringe swept-over, mussy at the back). "But you have to let it be what it is. I've learnt not to take everything too seriously."

And how does he feel about the endless photocalls and press shoots that go with the territory? Days like today, for example. "I enjoy 'em, actually," he says. "Especially ones like this, where you don't have to just sit there and grin."

He's especially comfortable in the fashion world; he was the only member of the band who sat front row at Burberry last September, for example. "I like fashion," he says. "When I look back at the kind of stuff I wore on the X Factor, I laff." In fairness, he was only 16 then, a highly forgettable period in anyone's style evolution. "No," he shudders, recalling the bow ties and long straggly scarves that accessorised his earliest television appearances. "There's no excuse."

Despite being the most obviously charming of the group, Harry is also remarkably self-contained. In front of the camera he can appear removed, even shy at times. As to his role in the group: "I float a bit," he says vaguely, before adding, "and I can fall asleep anywhere. That's my thing."

Asked to identify the "father figure" among them, the boys nominate Liam, who is wrestling with the laces on a new pair of white Converse and getting used to the aforementioned haircut. "At the start, the management said I wasn't allowed to change my hair," he says of the strict aesthetic with which the boys are expected to comply. "But then I did it anyway, so they kind of let that one go. I tend to change my hair quite a lot." The change affords him a small window of anonymity. "I can go out and about," he says. "The other day I went out dressed as a big chav - Adidas trainers, jogging bottoms - and no one recognised me."

"It seems almost sad that a little haircut should represent such a big opportunity for the boys to lead anything like a normal life, if only until the papers catch up with them 24 hours later, but they are, at least, beginning to enjoy more autonomy in their artistic lives. The new album allowed them "to experiment with new sounds", says Harry. "We want to gradually get more and more 'live' sounding. So this album is a lot less little synth sounds, more guitars and drums. It's important to experiment with things - we want to move with the times, but keep true to ourselves."

For others, the second album was a longed-for chance to flex some musical muscle. "We did a lot of writing in the studio," says Niall, the self-described "carefree" member of the team. "And I play the guitar, so I play on a lot of the tracks on the album." A "born performer", whose first party trick, aged four, was to sing Saturday Night at the Movies to any willing audience, Niall has no issue with screaming women. Adores touring. "I love it. I love the screaming. They love it, too: they've all got their tickets and they've been waiting a year or so to see you, so you've got to give it your best." That said, he - like all of them - is looking forward to the three-day holiday they've been allocated, and the quiet normalcy of "hanging out at home and going to the pub with my old mates".

But now it's time for work. And so they assemble, staring down the lens of Demarchelier's camera with all the intensity of Derek Zoolander, as the sphinx-like Edie Campbell trails lissom limbs along their shoulders. Approaching 22 herself, she's far too old for these young swains: "They're just children," she laughs as she quick-changes into white Dior. Anyway, the boys seem largely impervious to her beauty, Zayn standing stock-still as she arranges herself around him, never breaking eye-contact with the lens. Perhaps he's in awe of her - the band's groomer later mentions she's never seen the boys so "well-behaved". True enough, they are a treat to shoot: quick, uncomplaining, each doing just as they are told - there's barely even any banter between frames. It's far from the hi-energy performance they bring to the stage, but no less efficient.

Such professionalism is almost eerie - the product of a long, long education at the school of Simon Cowell but they're ever so sweet with it, too. Afterwards they sign autographs, pose for pictures, thank everyone for their time, and are as lovely as you hope they'd be. And then they're off, all ushered, in one direction, towards the next appointment on that relentless schedule of world domination.

One Direction's new album, Take Me Home, is out now.

Read more: The December Issue Highlights

[sweetmariihs2]

Title: a huge unnecessary ramble about Jessie's and Buzz' age inside the Toy Story universe AND in their respective in-universe shows (I'm not well)

(And a lot of theories/headcanons about the toys memories when they get out of the box, along with debates about personalities and stuff)

"How much a toy can be a character and how much they can be themselves depending on their life experiences?" - me in other post

I think it's funny (and a bit weird) how Jessie was made around 1959-1967 (during the period when Woody's Roundup was on TV) and Buzz was made around 1995 (his show Buzz Lightyear Of Star Command supposedly was also on TV, because Andy watched the show and liked the character, that's why he wanted the doll), making Jessie a lot older than Buzz, and therefore a little bit wiser/mature due to life experiences.

But the toys that are made based on characters tend often to have the same personality as these characters. There are debates around the "woke up having real memories and not thinking they're toys" thing, because not even the Woody's Roundup gang and none of the other characters except from toys from the Buzz Lightyear collection show that they thought they were real, and this maybe be just a manufacturing defect from the Buzz Lightyear toy collection, or maybe this now happens with the most modern/recent/electronic toys that have wires and reprogramming and all that... anyway, I'm not going deep into these theories right now.

The toys can already know that they're toys, but their personality still matches their characters. Buzz is heroic, kind, analytical, and Jessie is brave, adventurous, confident. Their personalities don't change much from the characters they were based on even after knowing the truth, and what makes two Buzz Lightyears different from eachother are their life experiences, each one having their own life, memories, opinions, and everything, after getting out of the box. Overall, maturity. But I wonder if the characters' "factory" maturity changes anything about this, I believe it does. If an adult character toy comes out of the box with the adult character's mentality, then this toy will be mature and will only become more mature as the years go by, living as a toy; since whether the toy likes it or not, it still has a lot to learn about how things work after leaving their box. In the same way that a child character would have the mentality of a child, and could be matured over time, like the Sunnyside baby, who still acts like a baby to this day, but can understand the world around and have opinions.

The Buzz Lightyear toys are made based on the characters from the Buzz Lightyear of Star Command cartoon (recently a retcon happened and Pixar said that this toyline was actually made based on Lightyear, but I can't take that seriously, since BLOSC had been canon since the year 2000, and the Buzz toy that Andy wanted looks nothing alike with the character from the movie Lightyear). Apparently, Buzz Lightyear from Toy Story remembers himself as the character from the show and looks like he had memories from the show too, somehow. Inside the show, Buzz' character is described, and knows himself, as a guy in his 40s (we know this based on the episode Tag Team and it's also written in his fandom wiki ), which shows that he's experienced in life as a Space Ranger and overall a "mature person" (not that much lmao). Furthermore, he is always shown and described as a seasoned veteran of Star Command while the other characters on his team are rookies. He had a lot of training, a lot of study, and seems more confident and responsible than his teammates, which is fitting for this age.

As for Jessie, we can't watch Woody's Roundup because it was never made into a real, watchable show. But when Toy Story 2 was released, Pixar hired the band "Riders In The Sky" to make an entire album themed around Woody's Roundup and eventually use these songs in the film, many of which were not used but work as bonus content. (By the way, in this album the band added a bonus song, which is a cover from the Buzz Lightyear Of Star Command theme song that was released around the same time, "To Infinity And Beyond", in Woody's Roundup style! I love creative people). In this album, Riders In The Sky made certain theme songs for Woody's Rounduo characters, and telling in-universe Woody's Roundup stories about them, including Jessie's character backstory! The song is called "Jessie The Yodeling Cowgirl" and a fem singer, who is playing Jessie, sings about how she left her home in Oklahoma to move to California to sing.

For me, this all sounds like a story that would happen to her while her character was still young, and Jessie in the Woody's Roundup universe does look quite young indeed. Leaving her homeland, apparently for the first time, to go pursue her dream, added to her appearance and naivety in the show, makes me think her character was not even in her 30's yet. Maybe she was 27? At most?

The average age for woman to get married in the 50s was around 20 years old. Based on that and at the time period, I highly doubt that a show aimed at children made in that highly conservative time would have a fem, strong and tomboy-ish (she wore pants!!!) — and to make matters worse, who is also single in her adulthood because at that time a 20 years old SINGLE woman was almost in her old age in people's eyes, — character as a co-protagonist. Meaning that: they made adult characters with child-like features to appeal to their young audience (because everybody knows that children love to admire adults and wish to grow up, but at the same time, playing and living adventures is a lot more attractive to them than paying taxes, so the creators of the show made adults that act like children which would be a perfect combo to sell well) OR their characters are just that young, young enough to be able to show these child-like features. Which means that Jessie is pretty capable of being like — in this context specifically — 20? To be a young and single lady at that time and still be accepted on TV? Maybe less? Or they're just from that kind of show where the creators never tell the characters ages, ever- like in Barbie Life In The Dreamhouse? I wouldn't be surprised if Jessie's character were a teenager, to be honest, but I prefer not to believe in that because I love Jessie x Buzz so much and their shipp is too cute and healthy for me to make them weird like this

I also find it interesting to note how (back in the 1900s) they made dolls that looked like children but wore adult clothes and little girls would play with them that way. Maybe Jessie is something similar, with an undefined age, because her character in the show is clearly not a child, however she has very child-like characteristics such as big head and big eyes, somewhat innocent behavior at times, adventurous, and someone who would care more about playing and having fun than romance, since the show is targeted at children. If the show were targeted at adults, her character would be extemely different and would probably be more limited in a romantic role because adults already care about that. If her character is indeed in her 20s and still was well accepted on TV... that means that Jessie was a feminist icon in the media from her time and in the Pixar universe??? Oh wow

But oh well, Woody's Roundup looks like a very innocent and soft show to watch, like those cute pre-school cartoons, Sofia The First for example, just so you can get the view, but with a bit of adventure (oh if you knew the amount of adventures that happened in Sofia The First...). Well, the way we make shows and cartoons changed a lot since the 50s and today younger children watch cartoons with more script and drama, but at that time some shows were just innocent and fun like that, with simple premises in each episode and that was enough even for older audiences; that's why I think Emily (Jessie's previous owner) watched a show that today would be classified as for pre-schoolers due to it's simplicity and cute lessons about friendship. I think I just let myself write stuff that came to my head and now I lost where I was at.

Going back to where I was at, I think Jessie's character is naturally very naive since the show, besides being brave and adventurous. Maybe the script, and the characters, and the whole story overall, made the Woody's Roundup characters come out of the boxes like this (despite probably not having memories from their show like Buzz Lightyear does, they still have the same personality as their characters), very naive, much how they already were in Woody's Roundup. I'm trying to voice ny thoughts here, wait

I came to this conclusion based on how the toys have their characters personalities at first and that is slowly changed and shapes them into unique beings overtime due to life experiences. Buzz Lightyear acted like Buzz from the cartoon even after learning that he was a toy, and that will never go away, but will be matured and more explored overtime, to a level that two 15 yo Buzz Lightyears from different places and owners would be really different from eachother. If one is traumatized, he will have to deal with that trauma, when other Buzz Lightyear didn't went through that and does not have to, like Jessie was traumatized by Emily and has claustrophobia, but other Jessies don't. I think that our Toy Story Jessie was like Jessie from the show, naive, when she was straight out of the box, and she learned to have more common sense, opinions and tastes, ability to distrust and read people/situations, much like humans learn with experiences. Which means that the Jessie we know today is probably very different to how she was like when she was new, and not only because of trauma.

Which also means that the "When She Loved Me" sequence happened when Jessie was much more unprepared, immature and optimistic, that subconsciously thinks that things will always turn out fine because in her show they always do (Buzz was like this, even after finding out he was a toy, he had an absurd sense of optimism, still inside the limits of his character, which is a hero from the cartoon he's in but still very cautious and analytical not to let things go wrong. In Woody's Roundup the characters don't have to be analytical, the script just works for them because it's a very light and simple show. You can take your conclusions from there...). Sorry for ruining your day

Anyway, the conclusion I wanted to get was that even though Jessie's character is younger than Buzz' and their behaviors/maturities follow their characters until a certain point, the fact that Jessie is a lot older than Buzz makes her more mature than him sometimes, which works as a good balance, I guess? Maybe I'm just overthinking. Gosh I wrote so many good (and messy) points here. I need to sleep

[waksworldrebooted]

MTV Era Motorcity Masterpost (+ NEVER BEFORE SEEN INFORMATION)

In 2000, Chris Prynoski pitched a cartoon called Motorcity.

He made a card and a website promoting the show, which wouldn't see the light of day until the Walt Disney Company got their hands on it.

THE SETUP

"MotorCity is The Dukes of Hazzard meets Akira. It's American Graffiti and Big Daddy Roth rumbling with 8 cylinders into the world of Sci-Fi. It's the heart of American car culture driven to the next level."

 "Sex, cars, Rock & Roll, and the freedom to wrap your ride around a tree trunk goin' 160."

"In the near future, concerns over global warming, pollution, and the ever-worsening problem of gridlock in America’s major cities brings about the Anti-Combustion Acts of 2009." "These laws banned the use of any vehicle powered by an internal combustion engine. At first there was a lot of vocal opposition. But the so-called "Digital Revolution" as well as the advent of amazing new transportation technologies neatly filled the void, and the benefits of an improved environment along with a safer, faster and more efficient means of getting from point A to B managed to win even the staunchest opponents over. The oil companies and car manufacturers were forced to shut down under the political and economic pressures." "And a new era was born. Cleaner, faster and safer. America’s cities became modern utopias where its citizens could travel without fear or hazard in comfortable flying boxes affectionately known as "living rooms", and Detroit (The Renaissance City), became the finest example of this new policy. But with all of this wondrous innovation, something was lost. Something inherent in the soul of old America, something called freedom. The freedom to go anywhere. Anyhow. As fast, or as slow as you want. The freedom to speed. And the freedom to die." "This is where our characters come in. A few radicals realized that although you might never die in the "living rooms" , you’ll never really live in them either. So in the "Live fast and die young" mind-set, they fight the law. Scavenging parts and gas from Detroit’s massive underground, Mike Chilton and his gang, as well as a few others are trying to recapture some of what it meant to risk all for the freedom of speed."

THE CHARACTERS

Mike Chilton: A young talent on the illegal race circuit. Mike's right leg is always twitching and itching to jam a gas pedal to the floorboards, and his foot is as lead as they come. He's got gasoline surging through his veins and a 450 horsepower soul. His heart burns to drive and it's all he can do to keep moving faster and faster so that the flames don't consume him. He might be a gangly 19-year-old kid, but his ride has as much muscle as he'll ever need and he knows how to use it.

Vehicle of choice: Retrofitted '77 Trans Am

Julie Capulsky: An Anthropology student with a quick mind and a quicker pulse. She's a city girl with a passion for adventure who's secretly writing a paper on the underground "Burner" culture. As she gets to know Mike and his crew, she feels the freedom of the road and learns the power of a rumbling big block at her command. She is torn between the high performance life of a Gearhead and the love of her father who has sworn to take them down.

Vehicle of Choice: Any Hot Rod that'll give her a ride.

Lt. Capulsky: Julie's Dad and head of Detroit's Anti-Combustion Enforcement Division. He's old enough to remember when the highways were the arteries of America and the drivers were its blood. He rode with Fast Eddy in his youth and understands the joy of inhaling the fumes of burning rubber as the hot road turns his tires to black jelly. He's forced to deal with enforcing a law he's not sure he believes in. But that doesn't stop him from holding the record for the most illegal auto busts in the state of Michigan.

Vehicle of choice: Police "Living Room"

Ed Pirelli: (Fast Eddy) The old-timer who serves as Mike and the crew's link to the past, as well as their guide for the future. A wrecked hulk of a man, Eddy lived in a time when America was the land of wide-open spaces, and you had the liberty to go where, when and how you wanted to travel. You had the freedom to live, and the freedom to die. None of those damn boxes.

Vehicle of choice: Retrofitted '58 Chevy Roadster

Greg Raden: This young cop looks up to Lt. Capulsky as his ultimate hero. Born after the Anti-Combustion Act, He doesn't understand the rush of a vibrating steering wheel responding to every reflex of your sweaty palms. He wants nothing more than to grind the gears of the "Burners" to a halt.

Vehicle of choice: Police "Living Room"

Dave Earnhardt: Mike's worthy rival on the race circuit. He's a speed demon who stops at nothing to win. He might be Mike's worst enemy on the tar, but he'd take a speeding bullet for him off the track.

Vehicle of choice: Retrofitted '69 Camaro RS

Holly Biscayne: A fellow "Burner" who has a thing for Mike. She's jealous and suspicious of Julie's big city motives. She wants to make sure that when the checkered flag waves, she'll be on top.

Vehicle of choice: Retrofitted '05 Jaguar convertible

Brute Conklin: The bastard child of internal combustion and computer technology. This crafty gearhead beats "The Man" at his own game with a never-ending digital assault on the computers that control the Global Satellite System.

Vehicle of choice: Chopped 98' Harley Pan-head

Claire Constance: This ice queen might look like a hot number, but she's really a wet blanket who tries to smother her best friend Julie's fire. She can't understand what's with risking your life in the "sewers" when you can be shopping in style in the safety and comfort of your own clean home.

Vehicle of choice: None if she can help it

Promo card released in 2000

Concept art made shortly after the trailer (ones that closely resemble the final show)

From left to right: Luv (Dutch), Holly Biscayne, Chuck, Mike Chilton, Julie Kapulsky, Claire Constance, Texas, Greg Raden (Tooley), Lt Kapulsky (Abraham Kane), and The Mayor of Detroit

Pitch Trailer

[voltaspistol]

ATTENTION EXECUTIVE DYSFUNCTION GANG. I am pleased to announce that getting a NICE FAUCET that FEELS NICE TO USE is actually helping me to DO THE FUCKING DISHES. The hose function is nice and tactile with exactly the right weight, the lever operation is buttery smooth, and although the button that does the spraying isn't quite as intuitive as it ought to be, it's a nice strong steam. It. Feels. Like. Luxury. Communist. Space. Utopia. Design.

My only adjustment is that I moved the pullout hose's counterweight several inches lower so that the pullout hose could extend easily to my water purifier pitcher (a pretty space age glass pitcher to convince me to drink more water which absolutely fucking worked).

So I'm posting the exact make and model of the faucet.

Is $160 expensive for you?

If you can still stomach Amazon, check their "used" section. I got mine for $112 because the previous owner opened the box took one look, realized it wouldn't fit their sink, and then sent it back. If you're willing to deal with a cosmetic ding or two you could get it for much less. There's also a version that's touch-activated if you need something more disability friendly.

Installing it was easy, Moen has made the installation guide phone-based which made me hella angry until I actually used it and yes, the website they built for installation is superior to paper. The phone stays on, and parts are hyperlinked back to the exploded view.

The hardest part was taking out the old faucet (manufactured with non-replacable plastic parts so when it broke it couldn't be fixed, fuck that company) and scrubbing off the accumulated hard water deposits that the old shitty faucet left behind.

[y2klostandfound]

Now on Sale - Jet Set Radio on Game Players magazine Vol.131 (Video game magazine)(Hong Kong)(15/07/2000)

Translation in English:

DC Manufacturer: SEGA Price: 5800 Capacity: GD-ROM X 1 Memory: 4 BLOCKS Release date: on sale 1P/ETC/MODEM, VMS, vibration PACK, VGA BOX correspondence

They are the gangs and the bad guys!

The unique action game "JET SET RADIO" was finally released last week, the last issue of this magazine, we used the trial version of the game to give you a brief introduction. This issue will give you the strategy of the first version of the game. If you want a full guide…pay attention to the next issue! (Editor's Note: Do you?)

Gameplay:

Let me briefly explain the control method of the game. First of all, the movement of the character is controlled by ANALOG, A button is to jump, R button is to accelerate the L button is to spray and point of view conversion; Players can control the game characters to jump up and slide. In addition, as long as the monster walks behind the vehicle, it can pull the tail of the vehicle to slide.

After understanding the control method of the game, the game can be officially started. At the beginning of the game, the protagonist Beat (ビート) controlled by the player needs to recruit, and the target of recruiting is a man and a woman, a man called Corn (コーン), a woman called Gum (ガム),there are conditions for recruiting them. The condition is to do the actions that the monsters do once. As long as they can do three consecutive actions, they will join. The following is Corn and Gum for players to complete specified action.

Gum:

Action 1:

The first action is very, very simple, just follow Gum's path once, and then jump on the roof of a green private car to complete it.

Action 2:

The second action is also very simple, as long as you walk a short distance, jump on the railing and slide to the end to complete this action.

Action 3:

The third action is very simple, just add a spray paint action in addition to sliding, first remove the first two spray paints to spray the two parts of the dirt, then jump on the railing a little before walking and take two more spray paint. The opposite railing can be completed by spraying a dirt and truck on the railing, and Gum will agree to join as a companion.

Beat:

Action 1:

Dash forward and jump over two platforms, and then spray the obtained spray paint on the third platform to complete it.

Action 2:

The second action will be a bit difficult, the player must find a car on the side of the road first, then see the opportunity to rush forward and grab the tail, When the vehicle takes the protagonist to the place with spray paint on the left, they can leave, get the spray paint and return to the starting place, jump on the railing and spray on the glass to finish.

Action 3:

The trial version also tried the action, jumping on the railing after accelerating for a while, then jumping up to a railing, then jumping on the flyover and sliding along the rail to the other side and then jumping on the top of the bus stop to complete, so that Corn will also become a companion.

First Edition Complete Guide

When the character jumps from the top of the bus and the game officially starts, press START to look at the map, it shows that there are a total of 10 areas in this version of the spray painting, these 10 areas are easy to go, so there is still a lot of time should first the four Jet Set logos in the map, the following picture is all the four Jet Set logos (red circle), when the four signs can be painted, the first should be the three buses that are furthest apart should be painted, when all three buses are spray-painted, there will be an alarm, now in addition to the spray paint also to escape the police, follow the monster to the nearest two dirt, then to the other side of the railing of the soil and truck, then only three areas of the platform remain, if you want to get a little more points, you can spray paint the sheriff under the platform, and then jump on the platform to spray paint the last three areas and it will be all done.

Continued in the next issue…?

[tartarusrising-rp]

OOC INFO

Name/Alias: Arrow Pronouns: She/They Age: 31 Timezone: PST

IC INFO

Character Name: Kiri Stephens Character Age: 48 Character Birthday (with year): September 4, 1976 Gender & Pronouns: Cis Woman; she/her Affiliation: Tartarus Occupation: Drug Manufacturer Faceclaim: Simone Kessell

BIOGRAPHY

TW: colonial violence/imperialism, involvement with a cult and gangs, so much drugs

Her story is one rooted in subtle violence, from the moment she was born, in a hospital surrounded by harried doctors who don't ascribe to her family's cultures and traditions. The underlying threat that if her parents refused, they would be separated from their newborn. Instead of flax, they snip the umbilical cord with metal scissors. Instead of giving the placenta back to the Earth, they discard it as medical waste. From the second she began to wail, Kiri was placed in a box that she is determined to break out of.

Of course, it takes time for her to even realize the box exists. Her childhood is mostly standard, assimilating into a world without knowing that another way exists. She learns about her history through short, sanitized paragraphs in a textbook, and not by learning from her elders. She is fifteen when she learns about the true weight of colonial violence on her family, how both of her parents were taken from their families as children and adopted by non-Maori couples. How they were ripped from their roots and that trauma still lingers in their bones, and how they sought to spare their own children from those horrors by outright avoiding their heritage at all.

At eighteen, she leaves home for the first time, to the United States to strike her own path. Unable to stomach the assimilationist tendencies of her family, Kiri heads to Harvard, intent on learning everything she could so she could use the system to her own advantage. It's bright-eyed and idealistic, and while she graduates with honors, she also learns the country still has their share of hangups with immigrants. Meeting Desmona Kingsley is what saves her from having to return to Aotearoa, a blessing that quickly turns into a curse.

The cult is not quite a cult when she is there. For a time, she understands Desmona's pain, accepts her reasonings, and supports her goals. But the facade cracks when Kiri brings up going on to get her graduate degree, and she once more becomes aware of the box she has been placed in. Leaving was difficult, despite its necessity, and she disappears with little more than her life and the clothes on her back. But that is all she needs.

There are few options for a non-citizen without valid papers, and she finds herself going from the Church to the Asphalt Demons in order to stay alive. She spends eight months as a sex worker before she leverages herself into a position as a drug dealer and manufacturer for the gang instead. It's steady and stable income, and their protection is as good as anyone else's. When Nikko comes into her life, the decision is made all the more clearer. She would do whatever it took to protect him.

Kiri meets Laure at 27, and the match is lit. They come from opposite worlds and she always wonders how much her wife knew about her before they even met. It isn't difficult for Laure to sway her over to Tartarus. After all, what could the Demons give that Tartarus couldn't? And wasn't it time for her to have a chance at happiness too?

Once again, she disappears in the middle of the night, only to appear on Laure's arm several weeks later. Tartarus debuts a new street drug, another shakeup to the relative peace between the gangs. The lines are drawn and the gauntlet is thrown, but when the dust eventually settles, few dare to do anything other than lob a few insults her way. She weathers them easily, confident and comfortable in her decision to save herself and her son.

Twenty years later and Kiri has yet to regret her choice. She lives at the pinnacle of comfort, doing work she finds interesting and challenging, with a family that supports her. She lives in the moment to the best of her ability, to be an undeniable presence that cannot be boxed away.

[8bitsupervillain]

Higurashi When They Cry Hou Ch. 6 Tsumihoroboshi pt. 4

For reason I can't really justify this chapter has made me want to try to put together a timeline together for what I know so far. Which I did.

Oh they have fun. Anyway, the gang sees Shion who seems to be friendly with them this time around and not plotting and scheming to kill them all.

Tragically they all died. Eventually they all split off from each other, leaving Rena on her own, where she plans to go treasure hunting.

Which makes me sad that she might not think her Colonel Sanders statue is actually cute. You can't do the colonel dirty like that! Not when he was an integral part of getting this entire plot started so many many hours ago. Anyway, off she goes to the dam site/dumping grounds to her secret hiding spot. A station wagon that someone just dumped in the garbage area one day that Rena decided to use as her secret hideaway. As she's there it starts raining and we go back into her past.

There we see Rena's father and mother both working as fashion designers at a clothing manufacture in Okinomiya. Eventually Rena's mom and some of their coworker friends leave the job to work for a larger firm in Ibaraki (in a previous post I erroneously said it was Tokyo). Unfortunately Papa Ryuugu doesn't get hired by the firm and has to quit his designer job so the family can move to Ibaraki to let Ma Ryuugu flourish. Of course this being the eighties Rena's dad doesn't know the first thing about being a homemaker and a lot of the household duties falls to young Rena.

I'm sure you can already tell where this is going. Shortly afterwards the parents get divorced.

I can only assume this happened around the time of the window smashing, classmate assaulting incident. Which I suppose makes sense that it's glossing over that since Rena is purposefully ignoring and pretending unpleasant things didn't happen. I do find the timing highly suspicious however. Right around the time the young child was considering suicide that's the time the curse of Oyashiro popped up in her memory. Rather convenient timing, since she specifically mentions that she doesn't recall basically anything about Hinamizawa other than the fact it was a town she lived in once.

These are really fascinating to me, because it recontextualizes so much about Rena's past behavior. She is basically having a crisis of faith. She attributes so much of her happiness in Oyashiro's divine intervention that she doesn't want to think about what it could mean if the curse wasn't real. So all of the previous attempts to convince others that the curse was real and really affected change in the world around her could be seen as Rena convincing herself that's the case. Otherwise she'd have to face the possibility that her own happiness was not a divine gift from a god and guaranteed.

From the way the information is presented it's clear that Rena is suffering from some sort of depression. In addition to that other mental illness she has, she very clearly is suffering from some form of depression.

I know it won't come to it, but I sincerely hope Rena has the epiphany at some point that she made a major mistake by staying with her father. Much as she doesn't want to admit it she clearly was much happier with her mother, up until she had to defend her father against her infidelity.

I can only speculate that the person Rika is talking to is that Hanyuuu she mentioned during her death in Meakashi. Who I assume is a person and wasn't just a death noise Rika was making after getting injected with the drug that makes you kill yourself.

No I never once looked at any of the key arts for the chapters on GOG or Steam. Box arts? I'm getting hung up on nomenclature again.

I initially thought the narration was not Rika, but the other person, but now that I think about it I'm pretty sure that was Rika narrating. I figure that we're going to get a whole chapter that's entirely Rika narration, but what I want to know is, do you think we'll get one that's all Satoko?

Ha ha, Keiichi's a cherry boy! Not that I think anyone would really expect the 14-15 year old boy to be a real player. You might think you are, but no one's really a smooth operator during their teens. Or so I assume.

There's some light sillies, but then when the club leaves school because an emergency came up for Mion we switch back to Rena's POV where she talks about how Keiichi is a bit of a dick. Nice, but a bit of an ass.

I don't know Rena, sometimes you just don't get along with a person when you meet them. Nothing says you have to like every person you meet, even if they are your father's replacement for your mom.

I can applaud the effort Rena's putting in to making her father feel better about the divorce, but she's putting herself under entirely too much strain. Her good intentions are going to lead to her being viewed as a doormat more than anything. You're allowed to want your parents to be happy in their relationships, but you don't have to swallow all of your feelings just because your parent went through a messy divorce. Suddenly her snapping and yelling in extreme fury make a lot more sense.

[kisskissbanggang]

Jumpspace Renegade - ep. 2 ✨🚀

[2.2k words, 10 min. read - Stray Kids Multi Fic, Scifi!au, Choose Your Own Adventure - SFW/Smut in Later Chapters - Meeting the Gang, Shady Characters, Hiding from the Cops, Different Levels of Asshole, Always Check the Tags]

[Episodes on Fridays 7pm pst, Polling closes Saturdays 7pm pst]

[Series Masterlist | Come Say Hi!]

“Dammit,” you cursed under your breath in the cargo hold. Your boots were clunking on the iron floor of the haggard frigate just a bit too loudly for your liking. There were plenty of reasons you should've gone with different shoes, in hindsight. 

As an experimental manufactured planet, T’kaarm ran on a scaled up version of electromagnetic gravity commonly used on government and military crafts. In fact, if a tourist were to take one of those overpriced tours under the planet’s crust, where the electromagnetic plates rested, they’d get a taste of the peculiar sensation of suddenly being pulled in the opposite direction that they’d just been standing. All your clothes were lined with dainty metallic fibers. Every piece of jewelry you owned was Core-Safe, which was hilarious on T’kaarm as, again, the plates weren’t even in the planet’s core. Everything was made to pull you down to the surface, just enough. 

The steel plates were the current reason for your regret regarding the dumb boots. You should've thrown them out weeks before, when the plate on your right sole finally got exposed through the wearing rubber. A nasty zap from a faulty threshold on a commuter rail finally knocked some sense into you, and they’d been laying abandoned by your front door for weeks. 

Until today, when Klave had notified you it was time for your biweekly check-in. Except you knew it was a week early. And you knew that your employer for your last gig sold you out. 

You untied the stupid boots and tiptoed out of them – or as much as you could, now that you were bouncing a bit. There was just enough metal in your clothes, your bag, your jewelry, the fillings in your teeth to confidently hold you an inch above the floor. 

It was hard to see in the dark cargo hold, but this was fine. This was great cover, all things considered. You carefully shuffled around a maze of boxes, crates, and trunks, hoping to find enough of an opening to duck down into. 

“Looking for anything in particular?” came a sudden voice cutting through the dark. 

You damn near jumped out of your skin, whirling around to face the intruding sound. No apparent luck, but you did finally get a somewhat better idea of your bearings. Your fingers were curled around the spaced apart bars of a cargo cage to stop your momentum, likely against the starboard side of the hull since you entered the rear of the craft and veered right. But were you inside the cage, or out?

A single, red light illuminated an alarm button on the short ceiling. It dimly silhouetted the speaker in the dark. 

“Well?” the stranger continued. You could see his head cock curiously to one side, looking almost sarcastic given his bored tone. 

You let up a reluctant sigh. “Okay. I'm sorry for crashing, but I just need to lay low–”

“Why?” the man interrupted. “Are you wanted?”

“You could say that,” you impatiently answered. Your fingertips nervously fiddled with the raised lettering on your bag, slung down off your shoulder and resting in the crook of your arm. Supernova Hospitality. Once upon a time, you'd worked for one of those silly hotels that offered those silly tours under the planet’s surface, long before you learned how to make better money. Long before you went to jail. Long before you were saddled with Klave. 

Piping lined the low ceiling, and the man grabbed on to lean forward attentively. It was still your turn to talk, apparently. 

“Look, I can just leave,” you offered, “but if you let me stay, I’ll pay you–”

You were interrupted again, this time with an incredulous laugh. “Pay? With what money? You can’t even afford shoes, hun.”

First you wondered how he could tell with how dark it was in here. Then you were wondering where he got off calling you ‘hun.’

But you didn't get a chance to pursue either of these things, because the asshole nonchalantly reached over and pushed the alarm button. 

The lights flashed on at the same time a serious buzzer echoed through the spacecraft. 

Your ass hit the floor and bounced before you even knew you fell. 

“What the fuck, dude–?!” you sputtered. You spied a trunk stacked on top of a couple crates, leaving just enough room for you to crawl under when you heard footsteps coming down the stairs from the main floor. 

“Just seeing how good you are at hiding with the lights on, little stowaway,” the guy snickered. Now that you got a better look at him, you were surprised to find he wasn't more intimidating in terms of looks. Cropped, dark brown hair hung down in a shaggy fringe in front of his almond shaped eyes. Perfect nose, cute, thin lips curled into a shit-eating smirk – he was actually handsome, an unexpected feat for a dick like this. And he wasn't just resting both arms at the same time by leaning on the overhead pipe; he was handcuffed. 

Mercenaries with a cuffed guy in the cargo hold? 

Oh, fuck.

That meant–

The commotion in the stairwell spilled into the room. A few pairs of boots and sneakers stepped in front of your vision, and you strained to see past them. 

“I warned you about touching that fucking button, Lee,” a new disembodied voice threatened from somewhere behind you. 

Cuffs dismissively shrugged and gestured both his hands in your direction, all silent. 

One pair of legs spun to look towards wherever he’d pointed, and suddenly one guy ducked down to see you under the trunk. Cute round doe eyes blinked at you, or at least the one that wasn't obscured by an eyepatch. You and Eyepatch wordlessly stared each other down. There was a pathetic, silent plea in your expression, you could just tell.

And he held your gaze while he waved everyone over. “Hey, guys– OW!”

You kicked Eyepatch right in the shin and tried to wriggle out from under the trunk, but another body blocked you. A shock of red and black hair entered your vision first. He didn’t say anything, to you or his cohorts. He only curiously arched an eyebrow at you. You were ready to punch him right in his pierced nose when there was a banging knock on the sub-hatch door. 

Humorously, you weren’t the only one who filled with dread, by the looks of it. All the men stood, warily regarding the door and hesitating until there was another knock, this time with a yell accompanying. Nose Ring’s hand hovered over the hilt of a knife clipped into his trouser pocket. 

“Open up! T’kaarm Port Authority!”

Klave, obviously.

Nose Ring glanced down at you and back at the door, his jaw firm like he was grinding his teeth in thought. He glanced at you again.

“Jeongin, open the door.”

So he was the voice barking at Cuffs when the crew came crashing in. 

More light spilled into the cargo hold, causing the men to squint for a second. From your vantage point, you could only see Eyepatch, Cuffs, and Nose Ring. Cuffs had boredly moved to sit on a bench in the back of the makeshift brig.

“Greetings, gentlemen, I’ll make this quick.” God you hated Klave. “This is your Slipdock?”

You knew he was referencing the giant freighter parked on top of them. 

“Funniest thing,” Eyepatch nervously chuckled. “We were here first and the big bastard dropped down on top of us. You can check the quartermaster–”

“No, that's fine. And your Captain…?”

Nose gave a curt raise of his hand, really only gesturing with a couple fingers. “Bang,” he cautiously supplied. “First name Chan.” You could hear Klave or the cops behind him messing with a scanner. A blue scan grid flashed onto the Captain’s face for a second.

“Good, good. And your first mate?”

Eyepatch looked at Captain Bang first before raising his hand as well. “Han? Jisung– ah fuck!” The first mate cursed when the flash of the scan grid left him blinking.

Without asking or warning, the scan grid hit Cuff’s face as well, getting an annoyed grimace out of him.

“Lee? Minho Lee?”

Cuffs reluctantly nodded.

“Captain, you’re authorized to deliver outlaws?”

“Yeah,” Chan impatiently answered while he felt his pockets, “of course we are. Ji, do you have–”

“What? No, hold on–” Jisung quietly stalled, somewhat panicked. “That shit’s back on the bridge, I–”

Another pair of boots suddenly entered, stopping right beside Chan.

“Thank you, Seungmin,” Jisung hurriedly whispered before piling everything that was in his hands into Chan’s hands. Chan quickly reviewed everything before handing them back to Jisung to pass to Klave.

“Clearances, authorizations, and passes, officers,” he plainly explained.

“Thank you, Captain. And your final port?”

“Victory Meridian in Daedalus,” Chan answered with a nod towards Minho. “To drop off the cargo.”

“Perfect, Captain,” Klave praised. What a kiss-ass. “One last thing… Have you happened to have taken care of any attempted stowaways, maybe an outlaw trying to seek refuge?”

All three men in your sight line glanced at you and you vehemently shook your head from where you were hidden under the trunk. Minho and Jisung both looked at Chan next, but Chan was still looking at you. 

And you realized what it was. On your wrist closest to him, you knew the scar from your implanted inmate chip was visible. They injected ink into the cauterizer so it'd leave a tattoo, a little metallic logo for the port authority. 

Chan had a similar mark on his wrist. So did Jisung. 

The glare you shared with Chan felt like hours instead of seconds before he finally looked up, pretending to have just been looking at his watch instead. 

“No, officer,” he shook his head, “now, I'm sorry to be rude but do you mind? We have to make our boost time.”

“Captain, are you sure? There were reported sightings–”

“Officer,” Chan calmly interrupted. He pulled out a wad of folded paper credits. “I actually don't remember if we paid our gate fee already. Would you be so gracious as to check with the quartermaster for me?” 

The Captain handed the credits to Jisung to pass along. 

“My pleasure, Captain,” Klave gushed. “I’ll report back shortly–”

You were stunned that it’d been so easy. This was the last you’d ever hear of Klave, thankfully, as the door was shut in his face. You finally shambled out from under the trunk in the cargo hold, still bouncing on your tiptoes. There were a few new faces now. A couple of the men sat on crates near the stairwell, inspecting your boots. 

Jisung amusedly pushed your shoulder down, watching you bounce right back up. 

“Hey, thank you guys,” you offered sincerely. 

“Cute,” Jisung smirked, still distracted by your bobbing, “like a little ghost. She coming up with us?”

Chan also bopped you down a couple times before grabbing your shoulder. He beeped open the cargo cage and shoved you inside before you even had a chance to protest. “Nah,” he casually decided. 

“What?!” you protested, grabbing the bars. “You’re leaving me here?!”

“We gotta see if there’s a pretty price on your head,” Chan explained. “No hard feelings, I hope. Now what's your name?”

One of your hands relinquished the bars to reshoulder your bag. You nervously fiddled with the raised letters again. 

“... Nova,” you answered. 

“Hyunjin?” Chan called over his shoulder. One of the men, a tall, slender blonde, stepped forward. He drew out a small pocket scanner and focused the beam on your face before he also noticed your inmate mark and got that, too. Hyunjin looked at the scanner data. 

“Yeah, that's not your name,” he boredly shook his head while he read. “But I like it. You've got a lot of pages in here…”

“Jisung,” nagged a voice at the stairs. A bespectacled man was poking his head in the doorway. “The gate agent is on my ass–”

“In a minute, Seungmin, god!” Jisung rolled his eyes, dragging his feet on his way to the stairs. 

“You’re keeping me in here until Victory Meridian?” you frantically asked the captain. He was reading over Hyunjin’s shoulder. 

“Just until we make sure you're not worth anything,” Hyunjin answered, still reading his scanner as well. “You’ll probably be out before the end of the day cycle.”

“Sounds about right,” Chan ruled. He looked between you and Minho. “Play nice. Don’t touch that fucking button again.”

And just like that, Chan, Hyunjin, and the rest of the men cleared out. 

You were alone with Minho, a bounty you knew nothing about, and nothing to firmly anchor you to the ground. Your boots were still out in the cargo hold proper. 

And the lights went back out. 

The ship rumbled to life around you. 

A couple strips of work lights blinked on, but that was it. 

“The pilot called you a little ghost but you remind me more of a little bird,” Minho chuckled to himself. 

You considered your response.

There was always the silent route, maybe bore him into leaving you alone or divulging something valuable. 

Or there was always the option of trying to be friendly, maybe make one alliance since it was available. 

There was, however, the risk that silence could come across as taunting or antagonistic. But, then again, talking could appear disingenuous, maybe even cloying. 

[leeahqueen]

The Remaining Dust Trio (CER-28)

Amidst the flames and thunder, the enemies in the sand sea emerged from the smoke one after another, as if they had just been dormant in the storm before that.

???: Enemy... enemy... enemy...

Among the monsters with shapes, a mechanical body that was covered in rust and decorated with many unexplained decorations stood out from the sea of sand.

???: The Oil Scrap Gang... the enemy... annihilate... the enemy...

No.21: The concentration of the Punishing is rising...

Noctis: This big guy in the middle seems to be the leader, right?

Noctis punched hard, smashing the heads of several infected bodies that rushed toward No.21.

Vera: Looks like some kind of infected machine?

Vera threw her flag gun, swept away the enemies approaching them, took out a tube of serum from the first aid box and injected it into the substitute plasma on Huzi.

Vera: It won't last long, the serum in only enough to last for an hour.

Noctis: Does it take an hour to beat this thing to pieces?

No.21: Scan showed that the mechanical body was very worn out.

Noctis: Isn't that just a punch?

Vera: Let's make a quick decision.

???: Enemy... enemy...

???: Ene... my....

Noctis grabbed the cracked armor on the chest of the machine with one hand, but before he could punch out with the other hand, the machine's fist landed on his face before him.

Noctis: Ha! You are really durable!

No.21: There are flaws.

While Noctis took a solid punch from the mechanical body, No.21 keenly discovered a flaw and tore off its left arm.

Noctis: You won't survive!

After being punched, Noctis immediately retaliated and smashed half of its head with one punch.

???: !!!

Noctis: This thing only has half of its head left! Why isn't it dead?

Vera: Then knock the whole head off!

The mechanical body pieced through the body and avoided Noctis's next punch, but failed to avoid Vera's flag gun.

???: ---

Vera's flag gun flew straight past Noctis's cheek, piercing the remaining half of the head.

No.21: The target... falls silent.

Noctis: [Beep beep] !

Noctis spat, and finally let go of the hand had been tightly holding the mechanical body, and it fell to the ground like a pile of scrap metal.

Noctis: This is the first time I have encountered such a durable iron thing.

No.21: It's and enemy I've never seen before...

Looking around, the enemies that had emerged from the sea of sand one after another were all scattered.

No.21: The Punishing concentration is now at normal levels.

Vera walked to the mechanical wreckage next to Noctis, stepped on the half-beaten mechanical head, and pulled out her flag gun.

Vera: The manufacturing process of this thing is different from the garbage I encountered before. It doesn't look like the stuff from here.

Noctis: But this unexplained decoration looks familiar.

Vera: Hmph, it must be that the unknown machine and the car repairman are the same.

Vera kicked the thorn-like decoration made of iron nails and galvanized iron sheets that decorated the mechanical body.

Vera: Let's go. No.21, Noctis.

Vera: The sandstorm has also stopped, but I don't know if we will encounter other enemies. Take advantages of this moment to set off quickly.

No.21: What about Huzi?

Vera: Of course we brought him with us, otherwise why would I save him? His life is not in danger now, he just fainted.

Vera: Leave him in the next colony, we still have mission.

Noctis: Let's go then?

Noctis stood next to Vera, carrying the unconscious Huzi on his back.

Even in coma, the middle-age man's arms tightly hugged the ancient movie machine and the pocket containing the film on his chest, and the dagger in his hand reflected the faint moonlight.

READ: CER-27 | CER-28 | CER 29

[starindiaelectricals05]

Choosing the Best Module Box in Order to Deliver Proper and Safety Electrical Installations

Introduction

The module box is one among the most prominent components of electrical arrangement. For switch plates socket, and respective wiring, these module boxes need to be better-organized protected coverings, and therefore are required to employ the best and reliable rust proof module box suppliers to meet any requirements for extended durability with such electrical installations, so that service can be gained for a greater period.

This guide will help you understand important factors to consider in choosing the best module box manufacturer in India so your electrical installations will remain both safe and efficient.

1. Importance of a High-Quality Module Box

A module box protects electrical components from dust, moisture, and physical damage. Low-quality boxes may cause short circuits, overheating, and fire hazards. That is why it is important to purchase from a top module box manufacturer that ensures superior build quality.

A rust-free module box not only ensures safety but also extends the life of your electrical installation. A module box with a lifetime guarantee guarantees you a product that lasts for long and eliminates short-term replacement.

2. Factors for Selection

A. Module Box Material and Durability

The best module box manufacturer in India uses premium metal or thermoplastic material for performance durability over time. A rust-proof module is highly recommended, especially in high humidity conditions or outdoor installations.

The metal module box should have powder-coated finishes. This method will prevent corrosion, making it more durable and long-lasting. Rust-free module boxes are perfectly appropriate for industrial and commercial applications as exposures to moisture are common here.

B. Safety Standards Compliance

A module box manufacturer in India must follow national and international safety standards. Certifications like ISI, CE, and RoHS indicate a safe and high-quality module box. Always check for compliance before purchasing.

C. Customization and Size Variations

A top module box manufacturer provides various sizes and configurations to accommodate different electrical layouts. Whether you need a single-gang, double-gang, or custom-sized module box, choose a manufacturer that offers flexibility.

D. Pricing and Affordability

A critical point is that module box manufacturers in India may not be costly but should not compromise on the quality. One must look at a balance of cost and performance in selecting the supplier.

A module box is made by best module box manufacturers with the purpose of offering safe, cost-effective, and long-lasting solutions to their customers without any compromise.

3. Main Advantages of Rust-Free Module Box

Having a rust-free module box ensures numerous benefits.

Improved Safety- No electrical failures because of rust.

Long-Lasting Performance – A lifetime guarantee module box ensures durability.

Weather Resistance – Suitable for humid and coastal areas.

Minimal Maintenance – No need for frequent replacements or repairs.

A rust-free module box is essential for industrial setups, outdoor applications, and high-moisture environments.

4. Why Choose the Best Module Box Manufacturer in India?

Being cautious about the reliability and reputation of module box manufacturers in India is important. The best module box manufacturers in India offer the following:

✔ High-quality materials that will give durability and long-term performance.

✔ Customization options of different sizes and designs.

✔ Reasonably priced options without compromising the quality.

✔ High after-sales support through warranty and technical support.

Optimizing for module box manufacturer from India will enable you to secure a product of all safety certifications and will support you for several years without errors.

5. How to identify the best supplier of module boxes?

For looking for a renowned module box manufacturers, check below sources:

Manufacturers- Select the most trustable module box manufacturers in India for best quotation.

Wholesales Market Of Electrical Products-Best manufacturer in module box provider with wholesale bulk offers.

Online Websites – Many top module box manufacturers list their products online to enable easy buying.

For people who are tight on budget, low-cost module box manufacturers in India offer products that are cheaper yet not cheaply made.

6. Conclusion

It is quite crucial to select the module box because it decides the safe and durable electrical installation. When you get a rust-proof module box from the best module box manufacturing, then you don't have problems with corrosion, electrical failure, or frequent replacement.

The best module box manufacturer in India ensures:

Superior quality and safety compliance

Durable and rust-free products

Affordable pricing with customization options

For premium module boxes, Star India Electricals stands out as one of the top manufacturers of module box in India, offering high-quality, rust-free, and cost-effective electrical solutions.

Make the right choice today and ensure safe, efficient, and durable electrical installations!

[fantasticstoryteller]

"Wait!" the goon cried as he dangled over the edge of the building. "Wait, I'll tell you something good!"

Dick hummed. "I'm listening."

"There's this ghost, see?"

Dick sighed and pulled out one of his sticks as he charged it up. "I don't have time for this," he said wearily.

"It's true! I swear it's true! We all use 'im!"

Hmm. Interesting. "'Use 'im'?" Dick asked. He turned the stick off and put it back on his belt. "For what?"

"Info! The ghost sells info! You wanna know who's behind the new drug, ask the ghost!"

"Oh?" Dick hummed. This might be a promising lead. "And what does this ghost take for info?"

"Food, cash, games," the goon said.

Games? "That's an odd list." Maybe a kid? No, how would a kid know anything that a bunch of gang goons wanted?

"They're offerings, yeah? Don't fuck with the offerings. And no killing," added the goon. "Ghost is very big on everyone living."

Well. Dick was just going to have to meet this ghost. He pulled the goon back over the rooftop. "Tell me more," he ordered.

*

Danny watched warily as Nightwing--Nightwing!--walked into the alley. He knew he was invisible, but pressed his back against the bricks anyway. He didn't want anything to do with any of the vigilantes.

But he was too curious to leave. He watched as Nightwing walked up to the shrine that the local gang members had made for him, and--

Hold up. Was that--was that the smell of fresh baked donuts? In the middle of the night? Where had the vigilante gotten those? It was only thanks to having eaten earlier that his stomach didn't rumble and give him away.

Nightwing stopped in front of the shrine. Then--he took pictures? What for? Why? What could he possibly need, or want, pictures of the shrine for? This was unnerving.

The box Nightwing was holding was placed on the shrine. A note was placed on top. Nightwing shot a grapple to take himself to the nearby roof. And waited.

Hah! Danny knew it was a trap! Too bad, Mr. Vigilante, but Danny used to play that game, and he was better at waiting! Much better. It didn't take too long before Nightwing left. Really left, not just pretended to leave.

Okay. Danny drifted towards the shrine, staying invisible and intangible, because he knew better than to trust the vigilante. It was--

Donuts. This close the smell was almost overpowering and Danny had to fight to keep his invisibility and intangibility. He let the tip of his finger go tangible just long enough to open the donut box. Six fresh donuts. And these weren't plain glazed, oh not. These were stuffed donuts, donuts with toppings, and--was that a Froot Loop donut? It was.

Well. What info did Nightwing want? Danny had to give it to him now. He looked at the note.

A lead into the new drug Hypnos.

Well. Danny could do better than that.

*

Dick was grappling between two buildings when a piece of paper smacked him in the face. He grabbed it, landed, and looked--at a an address? Huh. Oh, there was the little ghost doodle that he'd been told about. All right.

He was only kind of shocked that the address turned out to be the building where the drug was being manufactured.

Information broker Danny

Bad Fenton parents reveal but instead of the usual Trope of going to Gotham he goes to Bludhaven just a few months before Nightwings first appearance.

Danny accidentally stumbles into information breaking mostly because he's Gathering all of his information himself by accidentally stumbling into back alley deals, he is not supposed to find and then turning intangible so he doesn't get shot at.

Danny isn't really Nightwings priority when he first gets there and he definitely uses his services as he's cut off from his main source of information.

The two of them end up having a very good relationship as the two of them are bouncing quips off of one another by their second meeting. Danny brings out the side that is mostly tucked away at the time from Nightwing as he is still in his angsty just left home phase.

Nightwing doesn't tell the bat family about Danny originally because he is estranged but eventually it becomes Danny being only his team. Gotham has all of the bat family and Nightwing has Danny. It will take years before anyone meets Danny.