#Mining Scrapers and Skirting

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Malefic & Help: 1

Masterlist

Malefic & Help Masterlist

Loki Laufeyson x Female Plus Size Reader x Valkyrie/Brunhilde

Warnings: Rape, Non-con, dub-con, Dark fic.

A/N: While in Sakaar, Loki and Brunhilde run across a rare asset that the Grandmaster had kept hidden for centuries until the day it was time to auction them off to the highest bidder. How will the bidding war play out between an old lover and an old friend? Not to mention is there anything left worth saving after centuries of torture and no memories of a life other than that of a sex slave? This is my first Loki/Reader/Brunhilde it took a really dark turn.

Words: +3,800

It was a feeling she hadn’t experienced in centuries, embarrassment, embarrassment at having bare, thick, naked form put on display before the on lookers to be auctioned off to the highest bidder and it made no sense. It was an embarrassment that one felt when doing something crude in front of someone who didn’t know this side of you, this darkness, this ugliness that was an atrocity.

The man, it was a man this time wasn’t it? Well whoever they are they weren’t letting up until they ripped another orgasm from her sweat drenched body, lulling head thrown to her back over the wedge like pillow, arms aching from being pinned shackled under her aching back as the noise around her was running into one.

She swore she caught movement that wasn’t Sakaraaian, they didn’t move like one and neither did the other she spotted earlier, an itching at muffled memories that where ripped from her when she came to this realm. Body now shaking as whatever had her was finally spilling into aching womb and the weight  lifted off as eyes fluttered closed. It had been a long time since she had seen the public world of the Grandmaster’ upper floors, normally she was kept to his private quarters only for him or those he deemed worthy of her company, but now it appeared he had ultimately tired of her and was ready to find her a new master.

It was a disgusting display, it left Loki wanting to leave but he really couldn’t, not since he was trying to impress the Grandmaster with his wit and skill. Coming to the auction at the eccentric man’s urging and was glad to note it was drawing to an end as it seemed the last poor soul was being auctioned off but this one the Grandmaster was making a point to give a show of as he neared to look over the poor spirit. This one a woman who was nearing gods knew which number orgasm as she was flopped to her stomach now the bidding reaching higher than the others.

Emerald green meeting the weakening woman’s dull gaze, this one didn’t wear a disc, but a thin metal collar covered in varying ruins, his eyes snapping to the familiar dull Y/E/C orbs that were hazing over, thick bare body jolting as this time it was centarian slamming into her ass, and this time she let out a silent cry before shuttering form fell limp. The current bid 14 million credits, he could do better he had to do better.

“20 million credits,” Loki spoke up as he stepped next to the Grandmaster who paused to look at the newest member of his entourage surprised as the room quieted all but for the poor woman being fucked relentlessly.

“Wow, OK it looks like we have a new bidder,” the Grandmaster began, movement at the back of the crowd catching Loki’s eye.

Brunhilde knew her, the scrapper knew the slab of flesh on the auction block, so to say, was more than any salve, she was Asgardian, one that she recognized from a child before the Valkyrie left the realm. Wondering why she never seen her but if she was private collection then that would explain it and she wasn’t about to let the newest scum who followed the Grandmaster’ shirt tails take her and ruin her more.

“21 million credits and an endless supply of fighters for half the price,” the scrapper spoke making Loki glare at her, the centarian finally pushing off of the now lifeless creature, body spent and fluids leaking out of every orifice as it seemed it was all she could do was breath.

“Sold,” the Grandmaster didn’t hesitate to say as the crowd cleared for the scraper to come forward, the elaborate man calling her scrapper 142, Loki taking a mental note as he stepped close to congratulate her.

“I will offer you double what you paid,” Loki spoke quietly as the tanned woman handed over the small gold rectangle for the credits to be deducted among other things added to the list as she ignored Loki when she took the object back and start for the disoriented woman, flinging a blanket over her pulled off a couch before getting the woman to wobbly feet to leave.

“No, she’s mine,” the bronze woman sneered to Loki pushing past the tall man to hurry out with the woman who was barely able to walk.

The scrapper needed to get the woman settled so she could go make good on the rest of the deal, the annoying man following her close and down the corridors badgering her and offering more for the creature that appeared to be barley hanging on. The annoying asshole even following Brunhilde into her small apartment and back to the bedroom where she laid the limp woman who looked relived to be laying down without anyone expecting a performance.

“Look, whatever you intend her for isn’t happening so leave,” she bellowed at the man who barely budged when she lost her temper drawing a dagger to put it to his throat.

“I want nothing more than to help her, heal her, let me show you,” was all he said as he skirted around the woman to sit on the bed, carefully removing the collar around the shivering woman’s neck for aching body to lose its pale clammy appearance as if it was healing itself from the inside out.

“OK, look,” Brunhilde huffed out in exasperation, she didn’t have time for this and was running low on patience, as well as something told her he wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. “How about you rent her for the day, I have to go make good on the rest of the deal or I will end up like her. She comes back better than she left, or I will cut your throat,” she sneered at Loki who was quick to pull the woman into his arms to hold her close before taking steps out of the room.

“You never asked my price,” she spoke after Loki who began to step out of the room via the sliding door.

“Doesn’t matter, it's taken care of,” Loki spoke as he stepped out the door, using his seidr to take them to his quarters that were cleaner and less chaotic.

Quickly the god took long strides to carry her to his own bed, sitting next to the lifeless woman worriedly, hand smoothing over sweat stiff hair as he used seidr to help her own continue to heal her body and to clean her.

“Wake up Y/N, at least show me you can hear me, I know your tired lover, but I need you to wake up, just look at me,” Loki spoke quietly watching her move to open hazy eyes, letting out a sigh at what it could only mean why she was here in bed with this man.

“What does my master ask of me,” she spoke hoarsely, voice strained and hazy eyes not recognizing the man before her, sitting up without shame of being bare before a stranger, but then again she felt the embarrassment as the man made sure to wrap a robe around heavy shoulders to keep naked form covered.

“I'm not your master love, I'm Loki, do you not…,” the man began searching blank face over for any sign of the woman he once knew her as, a warrior full of life, one stronger in seidr than him, well versed and used to share his bed till she was thought dead.

She searched Loki’ face over, was she to know him? Was it her life before that had been wiped from her mind? This was all she knew servitude, the collar, wait, the collar.

Hand going up to soft, bare neck to look up to the man, no, her buyer her new master would be upset the collar was gone, that she lost it. Eyes growing wide in panic as fingers tore at soft neck. No, the collar was to never come off, jerking hands away from her neck to glance around the room, the bed.

He wasn’t her buyer, he was renting her, he had no right to remove it, to take it, Y/E/C orbs locking onto his as it seemed he was at a loss as to what was happening until he finally noted to angry scratches gold painted nails had left in their wake and was now searching frantically over the bed for. In a panic getting to her knees to search the covers like a frantic animal digging in the dirt for a meal.

Carefully he grabbed her wrist to stop the frantic searching, she was wearing herself back down in the panic, he knew she feared punishment and he could only imagine what form it took in the woman’s shattered mind as she shivered with. Loki managing to get Y/N to look at him, well the hands he held her wrist in anyway as he knew it would be hell to pay to get her to look him in the eye.

“My master will be upset that the collar is gone, it… it keeps my seidr bound so no one has to fear me or punish me… please… put it back… please…,” the broken creature pleaded with his wrist, finally looking up to him for a second with pleading eyes before looking back to his wrist, trying to shrink into herself, trying to show submission in hopes of not being punished.

“Your…,” damn he hated to play along with this game, especially with her, what was once a strong lover was now a shivering panicking creature before him that he needed to calm. “Your master,” Loki forced out, “she removed the collar,” liar you did, “she knows, it is OK love, calm down, no need for it, you want be punished,” he sounded to negotiate, moving in attempts to get her to look up at him but still she wouldn’t.

“Look at me pet, I want punish you for meeting my gaze. I have you for the day, until your master returns,” Loki spoke finding it eerie as Y/N calmed to finally look up at him, meeting his gaze though he knew it killed her, slowly releasing trembling wrist to watch her get to her knees before him hands up turned on her thighs, submitting.

“What would you like for me to do for you today,” Y/N spoke quietly looking him over, there was only one reason to be rented out besides just earning some of the money back that her buyer, her new master had spent out to purchase her, knowing the Grandmaster her price wasn’t cheap.

“Norns love what has happened to you,” he breathed, reaching out to place his hand on her soft cheek feeling her lean into and unable to prevent himself from relishing in the feel.

Slowly Loki placed a hand over her upturned one, using his seidr to call her own noting her look down and her body began to shake at what this could mean. Gradually Loki scooted forward to sit close, carefully pulling shivering form into him to hold her in a comforting way, trying to convey he wanted no sexual attention like what she was preparing to offer as he returned the robe to her shoulders with a thought and continued to watch his emerald mist swirling with her golden glimmer.

Loki noted the look in her eye, this was the first time she had seen her seidr in a long time, noting her fall into him, she was lost, not sure what was expected of her. Clear she was unsure how to respond to it, normally one didn’t want, this, it was either on her back, stomach or knees doing as commanded.

A slight tingling of the hand that was placed on her cheek that was beginning to lace into her hair to lay her head to his shoulder as he settled her into his lap. It was breath taking to say the least, the first time that someone had entered her mind in centuries to give her a vision, one of her tangled with the one before her but younger, leaving her wide eyed as she sat back to look over the older version, foggy mind still straining to remember.

Y/E/C orbs focusing as he spoke to her a little more to keep her calm, not looking for responses just explaining all he could in hopes of jogging a memory for as long as he had her in his care before taking her back to Brunhilde. Carefully Loki called the seidr back and allowed hers to retreat, while he continued to hold her close, telling tales of Asgard and when they were children.

“Are you hungry love,” Loki echoed, obvious she wasn’t used to someone asking if she was hungry or caring for what she truly needed, carefully Y/N shuffled in his lap as a bowl of fruit appeared in his hand to place it on his leg hinting for her to eat but noting she refused to reach into the bowl.

Thoughtfully Loki pulled a piece of fruit from the bowl and held it out to her, noting how easily she took it and taking time to eat it as it felt as if she was relaxing further into him. It seemed an odd arrangement whatever this was, she had never been treated like a well she guessed like a queen would be tended to, handled easily and soothingly in a calm atmosphere.

“What do you remember little one,” Loki began to question quietly, the woman shifting in his lap once more her knees pulled in close as he continued to hand over pieces of fruit while his free hand traced along her clothed lax spine, her shoulders moving as she took in a breath to speak, plucking the fruit out of his fingers to hold it in hers.

“I can only remember being tossed in my room for not obeying, for not submitting, after that I just remember the private quarters,” Y/N spoke softly, it wasn’t really permitted to speak of her life but this man that was being so gentle with her tired body, this Loki, it was easy to sense he was just more than any man.

“Well, we will just have to work on that want we dove,” he reaffirmed calmly once more, soothing over her back as he handed the last piece of fruit over, the bowl disappearing as she finished it off and the woman snuggling in closer into the man who seemed to be allowing comfort instead of demanding other acts, hand still soothing over lax spine as the one that was feeding her was rubbing over smooth shins.

Slowly Y/N fell asleep in Loki’ arms, the god continuing to speak of Asgard, of things she had missed, explaining who he was, who she was, a great warrior that he cared for and continued to care for even after her disappearance until it was time to return the sleeping creature to the scrapper, her buyer.  

True to his word Loki had the woman back to Brunhilde’ room, holding the now waking woman in his arms still in the same robe he had placed on her the moment the scrapper stepped into the apartment looking slightly unsteady but nothing out of hand. Cognac orbs looking the two over, noting the woman didn’t move as if she was sore or had been taken advantage of which was good, meant she wouldn’t have to kill him just yet.

“Take her to the bedroom, she needs to rest,” was all the scrapper spoke as Y/N was sat to her feet, obvious she wasn’t sure what to do at the moment, the woman looking at her buyer while taking a few steps away from Loki.

“Y/N needs to eat,” Loki spoke carefully, apparent he wasn’t wanting to anger the scrapper, Brunhilde pausing to look the two over nodding slightly, the tanned woman may take her anger out on his Y/N and that was a thing he wouldn’t allow.

Y/N looked back to Loki before she finally stepped closer to her buyer that was now standing at the edge of the kitchen counter, unsure of what was expected as she stopped before the bronze warrior who looked her over noting how well she looked hinting to her to take a seat at the table. With a gentle nod that left loose locks falling into Y/E/C orbs, Y/N padded to the table taking a seat quietly watching over the two, looking for any sign that she was wanted to behave differently, or if she was expected to prepare herself to perform as it was.

“I see you did as I asked, good for you,” the scrapper snapped out to Loki who was beginning to leave feeling Y/N staring at his back as the scrapper went to the refrigerator to pull a container from it, placing it on the counter, the god had done what he could for the day, maybe if he cooperated for once in his life things would work out for the best.

“Pick her up at first light and have her back the same time,” Brunhilde bit out to Loki who paused in the door way, glancing over his shoulder at the two women, studying Y/N for an instant noting her weary body looked relaxed, it didn’t matter if she had been treated like a play toy for centuries it would still show when one could sense they where about to be used.

“Very well,” was all he spoke, meeting the tanned woman’s cognacs gaze before leaving the two women to themselves.

“You like leftovers,” Brunhilde began speaking to Y/N, carefully looking over at the woman who was doing the same, both studying one another, the scrapper knew the confused woman was waiting for the order, the sign to do as her master commanded and it was actually heart-breaking given Y/N was a great warrior or once was.

“I will eat whatever my master sees fit,” Y/N spoke just loud enough for her to be heard, the scrapper hearing soreness in her throat, meeting Y/E/C orbs while it was clear the woman was preparing to mentally detach herself if need be.

“OK,” Brunhilde began the clatter of plates making Y/N focus on all attention to the bronze woman covered in the days grime from doing whatever it was scrappers done.

Truth be told Y/N was ignorant to certain workings outside of the private world of entertainment so to say, cognac orbs sparkling as they continued to gaze into Y/E/C ones sparkling with curiosity, not fear, a thing Brunhilde knew it had taken her a long time to conquer. “Don’t call me your master, or buyer. You call me Brunhilde, I am your friend, I have known you since Asgard, before I came here. If I had known you were in the Grandmaster’ private collection I would have tried to get you out then, you are safe here with me and apparently that pompous bastard, Loki, just stay close to us yeah?”

Y/N looked the scrapper while Brunhilde’ gaze rake over her thick robed form. It was visibly noticeable to the bronze woman that Y/N looked better than earlier, as well as in the way she moved all be they calculated moves that where learned in order to tread lightly as one would put it. This development was a plus but still she looked tired, Y/N finally responding with a smile and a quiet, “yes Brunhilde.”

Stoically the woman sat in the chair watching Brunhilde plate to food after it was warmed, the scrapper informing Y/N to get the pitcher out of the refrigerator, glasses off of the counter and to take them to the table as the two sat to eat. Brunhilde speaking to the woman about what she did on Sakaar, that she was once more, safe with her, she would ask nothing of her but to help with the burden of the chores around the apartment.  The scrapper explaining after they ate she was going to take a shower and after that Y/N could have the facilities as long as she wanted.

It was comforting to stand under the hot water, letting it rain over thick curves that no longer ached, to take time without anyone interrupting in more ways than one as well as just feeling clean. Seidr had healed and cleaned her body effectively but something about a hot shower made one relax. With a contented sigh Y/N sunk to the floor in the medium sized shower stall letting the water rain over her pulling her knees to her chest to enjoy the feel of it raining over her, jolting when the door opened into the small space, looking up to Brunhilde who looked slightly wobblier than before but giving a smile.

“Take your time, I brought you some clothes,” Brunhilde spoke sitting them on the counter, Y/N getting to her feet to cut the shower off, figuring that the state of her shriveled skin was attesting to the fact she had taken long enough, unashamed of her body to step out to take the clothes but holding them as if waiting for a command, the scrapper realizing she stared longer than she should have at the thick curved woman before her.

Y/N continued to hold to the clothes as she took another step forward, it was always her job to make the first move, standing almost flush to the bronze skinned woman who took in a deep breath as if to steady her own nerves, it was all Brunhilde could do to keep from taking advantage of the situation. This was what she craved in a woman, the prowess, the sureness of her moves though it was a habit taught it was still reminiscent of the old Y/N who was once in line for general.

“I don’t want you like that sweetheart,” the scrapper began, taking the long shirt she had brought from Y/N to put it over her wet head, noting in fit curvaceous form perfectly, hitting mid-thigh, bronze hand reaching up to caress over soft heated cheek and feeling her lean into it calloused thumb cherishing over the soft flesh as Y/N’ eyes fluttered closed.

“Let’s go to bed, I want make a move, promise,” the scrapper pledged to the woman who opened her eyes and smiled at her with a nod.

Quietly Y/N followed the bronze woman to the bedroom, taking what was to be her side of the bed to only wake in the middle of the night with Brunhilde pulled tight to her, arms wrapped around Y/N’ plump stomach and head buried there was well. The woman laying a hand on the scrappers back so she could feel the rise and fall of her gentle breathing, it was calming, comforting and lulled her back to a deep sleep, one she had been deprived of for centuries. Maybe this was better, maybe this was a light, a way out, an easier existence maybe?

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[merbyteslibrary]

Heaven Sent : Chapter 3 | Hellfire and Brimstone

Trigger Warning | Sexual Situations, Gore, Abuse, Foul Language.

Ralph gawked and the other girls – who had been watching the interaction this whole time – reached for my envelope begging to see what it really said and berating me in the meantime.

"Everyone knows humans can't get jobs like that."

"Who did you have to sleep with to get that position?"

Ralph slammed his hands on the bar, "All of you shut the hell up and clock out for the night!" He rubbed the back of his neck- still looking rather irritated. "As a celebration you'll all get three souls for the night."

The girls hurried to leave; cutting me in line till I was stuck at the very end.

Ralph closed his hand around my three souls – I wasn't too surprised, of course he would want to cut my pay.

"I'm proud of you, kid."

I met his yellow eyes; did he just say what I think he said?

"I remember just after I got this place built, you were –what? Sixteen?"

"Yeah, I would have been a junior in high school."

"Sure, sure – whatever that means to you." He waved his hand around, "Couldn't go one night without hearing you cry in the bathroom, for fucks sake I wished you would have just shut the hell up!" Ralph scratched the back of his head. "And then the day it all stopped, I hated it even more."

"Why?"

He fiddled with the souls in his palm for a moment, before finally dropping them into my hand and gently taking hold of it. "Because that meant somewhere inside you, you cut off those feelings. And I don't just mean the sad, but I also mean the happy." He softly placed his other hand over mine, "If this is what it takes for you to get your happy back, then I'm proud of you kid, but you gotta promise me not to cut that part of you off anymore okay?" He cleared his throat and released my hand, rubbing one of his eyes. "Just ... Just fight for what makes you happy, alright?"

"Ralph..." I gave him a hug, "Just some advice, if you care about the girls here, then don't be so grabby."

"I'm a demon, you never did understand that." He chuckled.

*

I remembered hearing rumors about how clean the streets were in the business district, they looked freshly paved and the sidewalks are so well-maintained I didn't even need to be afraid of the undead trying to grab my ankles and drag me into hell.

I had even used some of my souls to buy a shirt and skirt from one of the demon-owned outlet stores, I can't say I've ever worn a pencil skirt before but I want to make a good impression.

That's saying something too, because looking at Hellfire and Brimstone in person was already having a rather intimidating impression on me. The building soared high enough to reach heaven itself, that or it was a regular sky scraper and I just haven't seen one intact in five years.

The lobby was bustling with demons, all carrying various papers, looking at their watches, sweating uncontrollably for some reason?

"You must be Bonnie Pembroke? I'm Dahlia the head of security; I'll be escorting you up to the top floor."

"What for?"

"You've been hired as Head Secretary to the leading contracting company worldwide, and as a mortal the demons here will want to sign your soul away just so they can take their department out to lunch. I'm here to make sure that does not happen."

"Couldn't I just tell them no?"

"You could, unless the offer was too good to pass up- and the demons here make some of the best." Dahlia pulled me by the elbow onto the elevator and hit floor sixty six. "If you want to have a long career here then don't sleep with any of these motherfuckers, don't eat any food you don't recognize in the fridge, and always have a hot pot of coffee on the warmer the entire time the boss is here."

"Got it." I dared a glance at Dahlia, she had her hair pulled into a high ponytail, she wore a pin stripped pantsuit, and a clear wire was poking out of one of her ears like she was secret service.

These demons must take their contracts seriously to have such tight security.

I looked at her face a bit harder, that's when I realized... "You're the demon that ripped my prom dress."

"What the fuck ever." She rolled her eyes, certain that I was lying, but I continued to watch her expression change in real time as realization struck. "You!" She pinned me against the elevator wall, "Don't breathe a word of what happened to you the night of the rapture- do you understand me?"

"I wasn't going to, it's just... H-how have you been, I guess?"

"Irrelevant." She straightened her suit and rolled her head back and forth.

"It's nice to see you're different from that night." I mumbled sarcastically.

"I could still do everything to you that I did to countless other people that night." Dahlia hissed through clenched teeth, "You're probably at least eighteen now right?"

"Twenty..."

She grinned as the doors opened to the sixty sixth floor, "Then maybe you should watch your back, Bonnie Pembroke, or I'll have you screaming my name on the boss's desk."

She placed her finger on the device in her ear to let them know we were exiting the elevator; the demons on the sixty sixth floor were much different than the bustling ground floor.

In fact they had two looks – fear or anger.

Their eyes watched me through the windows of their offices, some of their fingers tapping their desks in anticipation and others leaning on office doorframes – papers in hand.

Dahlia was right, if she wasn't here then these demons were already planning to offer me some too good to be true promise just to sell away my soul.

"We're entering the front office."

The sleek black doors opened to reveal a modern red and black office space, one desk sat off to the side – almost guarding the next set of black doors.

Standing beside the desk was a fairly put-together demon, navy blue suit and tie, black hair combed off to the side in a neat wave.

It made me smile just thinking about a demon standing in the bathroom for hours just to get his hair that perfect.

"There she is! Bonnie right? Can I call you Bon-Bon?"

"Sure, my old manager called me Bo Peep so that's actually-."

"Bo Peep! That is adorable and really fits the whole sweet lamb thing you have going on."

"I was going to say sacrificial lamb." Dahlia mumbled.

"Ha! Isn't she precious?" He shoved Dahlia away from me and draped an arm over my shoulders, "Now, when you meet the boss don't be intimidated – he can be kind of cranky ..." He rolled his eyes, "Just make sure to address him as your majesty and you'll do great."

"Crowley!" Dahlia snarled.

But he was already opening the next set of black doors.

I should have seen this coming from how my day has been going.

The devil himself stood before me, looking nothing like the day of the rapture.

His skin was a ghostly pale, a reddish-blonde five o-clock shadow growing over his chiseled jaw, he stood just as tall and broad as when he faced Gabriel, his blonde hair was trimmed uniformly along the sides of his head while the longer hairs at the top remained untamed, and dressing his muscular frame was a white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows accompanied by black slacks.

The only thing that remained familiar from the day of the rapture was his bright red eyes, they failed to look away from the file he was reading through before we barged in.

"What is this?"

"Bonnie Pembroke, your new head secretary." Crowley nudged me with his elbow and gestured with his head to the devil.

I bowed deeply, "It's an honor your majesty."

-----------------------------------------------

*** New Chapters posted every Friday ***

Up Next: The Devil

[barkhapahuja]

General Purpose Rubber Conveyor Belts – Its multiple uses in the different industries

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When looking at rubber conveyor belts, on the surface they all seem very similar. However, when designed and manufactured properly, each different requirement of rubber conveyor belting can have special properties to suit particular applications.

General Purpose Rubber Conveyor Belts are Ideal for Conveying:

-Mud

-Wood Logs

-Bamboos

-Sand

-Crushed Stones

-Baggage

-Wet Coal Silo

-Coal clinkers

Applications of General Purpose Conveyor Belts:

Crushers, Mining, Colliers, Thermal Plants, Cement Plants, Steel Plants, Fertilizer plants, Ports, Minerals and Metal Industries etc.

Demanded by the Emended For:

-Stone Crushers

-Dolomite

-Wet Coal Silo

-Mountain Rock Boulders

-Pebbles

-Abrasive Iron Billets & Fines

-Wooden Logs

-Coal Handling Power Plants

-Copper

-Bamboos

-Chips

-Aluminium

-Manganese

General Purpose Rubber Conveyor Belt Grades & What They're Used For

Grade A - Abrasion Resistant: Abrasion-resistant rubber, also recognized as Grade A, is used when the conveyed material is very rough and rasping and causes the rubber to wear from the belt too quickly. The conveyor’s detailed cleaning system, such as brushes, scrapers and/or conveyor skirting, can also contribute to conveyor belt wear.

Grade A rubber is used when the wear of the conveyor belt would arise too quickly when exhausting general purpose grades.

Grade E – Static Electricity Conducting: As the name recommends, static electricity directing rubber conveyor belting conducts static electricity produced during the transport and conveying process and discharges the electric charge – generally into a grounding path.

Reducing sparks from static electricity is essential when in the presence of possibly explosive materials such as gases, liquids, powder and dust because the risk of explosion can be deadly.

Grade F – Fire Resistant: Fire-resistant belting is commonly used when conveying heated materials. Rubber has natural properties which can be exploded and burned.

Grade F rubber belting has additional properties which upsurge the ignition temperature and increase resistance to fire.

Grade M & N – General Purpose

DYNA Engineering Textile Rubber Belt: General-purpose rubber is the utmost common type of rubber conveyor belt and is used when exclusive properties are not required to suit an application.

Grade N rubber is a lower quality associated with Grade M. Grade M rubber has better hardness, is more abrasion-resistant and is higher in strength when associated with Grade N. So the only variance between Grade M and Grade N rubber is the quality of the rubber.

Grade Z – Special Properties: Grade Z rubber belting is a particularly designed conveyor belt to suit a precise purpose. This grade is used when the rubber properties do not fit in any of the other classes.

Combined Grades: More than one grade can be utilized on a single rubber conveyor belt. For instance, Grade MA rubber is both general purpose and abrasion resilient.

[cashtonwoah-blog]

Ashton Irwin- Forgetting Kira

word count: 1.5k

Rating: mild swearing

Requested?: No this will be a series, please stay tuned for further parts.

The groovy pop tune blared out of the speakers as the screen projected the image of dark, mystical, futuristic city. Flashings signs advertising shake ‘n’ bake and munch time filled the lilac sky, air traffic roared as a aero-tram past by.  A petite cloaked figure stood on the rim of a billboard gazing at the television screen on the sky scraper before her, where an indigo-skinned woman with two pimple sized horns on her forehead presented the news. In her right-hand corner was the mugshot of a dark-haired women with stormy grey eyes and underneath her scribbled in capital blood red was ‘WANTED’.

‘You’re not allowed to be up hear” Announced a soldier on the roof beneath her. She could recognise he was a soldier from his six legs and two antennas, she despised ant soldier. She somersaulted of the billboard landing gracefully in front of the soldier. She pulled back her navy cloak to reveal her midnight hair and stormy eyes.

“It’s yo-“   before the man could finish his sentences identifying the mysterious women, she had decapitated him. She watched in amusement as his bug legs continued to twitch. The groovy music increased in volume as the girl’s misty eyes pierced the screen.  She began to dance as fought more and more bug-like men. Once the roof was clear, she opened the fire door ignoring the black and white sign alerting the maximum security of the building. The scene quickly changes as we now see the young lady popping out of an air vent and surprising a soldier by breaking his neck from behind. She twirls over his deceased body and faces the screen once more, her lips part as she begins to sing ‘Don’t you know baby? Only fools stick around when the love is all gone’.

We get glimpses of the charcoal haired women riding horses as she charges into a battlefield blood splattering all over her body, she climbs trees and kill tree monsters, we see her dancing with an enormous snake, pirouetting up and down its spine before proceeding to pierce her dagger in its head.

There is a bar filled with all species from flower folk to gill people, with a robot band performing and her singing lead. ‘Don’t you know baby? Only fools stick around when the love is all gone’ She hums and the screen switches back to the indigo news lady.

“We have an urgent message from the galactic post! All citizens must be warned. There are new episodes on Kira on Netflix streaming now” She announced in terror, as the Netflix logo appears, the youtube screen fades to black.

 “Wow” Michael uttered completely amazed by the trailer he had just seen. “Doesn’t it look badass?” Calum inquired, gazing at Michael and Ashton who had just finished watching the trailer on his phone.

“No, she’s badass!” Ashton said almost breathless, the kind of exhilaration he had only felt whilst running or arousal. “Right?! She’s hot too” Calum said, chuckling slightly as he threw his head back.

“Isn’t it usually animated though?” Michael asked, as he took a sip of the coke in front of him. “Hey! That’s mine” Ashton slapped Michael hand away, clearly annoyed by the blonde boy’s action. He clutched the can in his hand, bringing it close to his chapped lips as he debated whether to drink it.

“Yeah, it’s usually animated” Calum answered Michael question ignoring what had just happened. “But, I read something about the Adam Davies wanting the voice actresses of Kira to do a live action trailer.” He expanded.  Ashton sighed, he was still starring at the open coke can. “Just have this Michael” He said, shoving the can over to him.  “Thanks” Michael muttered, oblivious to his friend’s disgust.

“What’s her name?” Ashton asked, intending to follow the girl on Instagram. “Misty Kira” Michael answered abruptly. “They don’t have personal accounts. No one on the show does, I think its in their contract or something” He informed nonchalantly, before continuing to slurp on Ashton’s coke.  Calum and Ashton shot him looks of confusions, completely oblivious to Michael who continued to slurp noisily.

“What?!” He asked, the boys had finally managed to meet his gaze. “How do you know that?” asked Ashton.

Sinking into his black hooded Michael whispered. “I may have tried to follow her before”.

Three months had past, and Y/N had really felt the weight of starring in the Kira live-action trailer. It was one thing voice acting when no one saw her dirty blonde locks and sun-dried freckles. She wasn’t disappointing anyone as Y/N, but when fans turned up to her meeting opportunities or comic-con and her black hair was extra shiny and lifeless, the jig was up.  Her wig was visible and her grey contacts that irritated her eyes were a pain.

No one had ever said her dirty blonde locks, freckles and muddy eyes weren’t beautiful, although they had never said she was remarkably good looking either. Kira however, was beautiful, there were tumblr pages calling her ‘the ideal women’ and teenage boys aroused by her simply in animated form. y/n loved being Kira, she loved the excitement and adoration, but she despised how she felt like Kira was stealing her love. Who was left to love y/n, when the tacky wig and sterile contact lens come off.

“Kira, you have a private fan meeting at twelve today” said Mona.  Mona, Y/N’s personal assistant, was propped against her dressing room door, clipboard in hand as she observed Scarlet. “What are you doing?” She asked, meeting y/n’s eyes in the mirror.  Y/N starred at herself in the mirror, her eyes scanned her fingers twirling her hair and began to count her freckles. “y/n?” Mona muttered, her voice filling with concerned. Hearing her own name called had shocked Y/N since her manager Tony had banned the use of that name for branding purposes. Mona began to enter the dressing room, but the shock and concerned was short lived. y/n’s make-up artists came in bombarding her with products as they pushed Mona aside, whilst being suffocated make-up brushes she managed to blurt out. “Private fan meeting?” She asked.

“They must be rich” announced Jamie, whilst securing her hair.

   The meeting

Walking around backstage at concert venue in short black skirt and wig made Y/N uncomfortable, even if her navy cloak covered her ass. It had been over two hours and Y/N no longer cared to find out who had ordered a private fan meeting with Kira, she presumed it was some middle age pervert who probably wanted a ‘private show’ in a venue all to himself. She decided to ditch her team as she opted for the break room hoping to find a snack, she had missed lunch for this after all. The breakroom was empty, there was two old worn out leather sofas, a small coffee table and two vending machines. She discarded her cloak draping her leather sofa over it. She removed her wig revealing a sweaty blonde bun, her fringe was drenched and plastered to her forehead. She tossed the itchy black wig on the corner table as she approached the food vending machine. Her eyes settling on the pink walkers’ crisps as she typed in 1 1 4.  Nothing happened, Y/N typed the number again, again and again.

“For fuck sake!” She cursed, her hand slapping the glass. “Hello?”  Y/N whipped her head around so fast only to find a young man with brown hair starring at her.

“Umm Hi” Y/N whispered, embarrassed that the strange young man had caught her explosive rage. The boy smiled letting out a light giggle as he gaped at her, although aged almost twenty-four Ashton wasn’t immune to the charm of a mini skirt or a plunging bodysuit. “I don’t think we’ve met” He said, politely as he began to approach the vending machine which she stood at. “Oh I’m” Y/N words fell short, she couldn’t introduce herself as Kira, not with greasy hair and her signature black hair missing.

“You have” The young man paused. “uh” He swallowed, his mouth running dry. “nice eyes, I’ve never seen eyes like that” He stuttered, messing up his sentence. Y/N was scared, why hadn’t she tossed her contact lens too. “Oh, I know you” He said, his face filling with confusion.

The jig was up, he knew she was a fraud, he knew she was Kira and Y/N couldn’t bare to shatter another man’s dream. She couldn’t bare to have him realise that the perfect girl he had fantasied about wasn’t real.

“I’m Y/N” Scarlet huffed, her heart beating to fast to breathe. “Kira mega fan and sometimes stunt double” She said, giggling nervously.

“Oh! I knew you weren’t her” Ashton sighed in relief. “You don’t have her dark ringlets” He said smiling, before noticing Y/N smile fade. “Not that your hair isn’t nice” He said, trying to make her feel better. “It’s perfect” He said, reaching out to brush her fringe behind her ear. “and swea- shiny” He said, covering up his slip up. He brushed his thumb against his index finger rubbing away the sweat. Y/N had never wished to wear her black wig, until that moment.

Masterlist 

[f-724-morty-blog]

724 Journal Entry 001

724 Journal Entry 001

[A series of 724′s journal entries following his Rick’s death. Consider this a consolation prize until Im well enough to draw again. I hope you all enjoy!]

I feel numb. It’s been a few weeks since Rick...passed, and the whole world feels fake. Summer said I should try writing things out, to help process or whatever. I don’t know if it’ll actually work, but why the fuck not, right? It’s not like I can talk to anyone about it. Whenever I try my throat closes up and I feel like I’m drowning.

She bought me the journal, anyways, so I might as well use it. I’ll try and recount as much as I can as accurately as I can. This part isn’t just for me, this is for Rick, so someone will always remember what happened to him. That even after all the wrong he did, he died a hero.

Rick died saving my life.

___

“M-oUGHRty, g-get dressed, Morty, we gotta go to Pouirte N-683 th-they just opened the pl-AUGHnet again, we, we can finally get this crazy rare substance, Morty, a-and I can synthesize it into a serum that’ll let me, just, just rearrange genomes like nothing you’ve ever seen!”

Morty scrambled out of bed, glancing at his alarm clock as he frantically yanked on a pair of jeans. “B-but Rick, I-I-I’ve seen you m-mani-manip-mess with genomes before, s-so what makes this so special?”

Rick looked manic, pacing the room and throwing his arms about wildly as he spoke. “Th-this stuff makes it so much easier, Morty, wh-when I do it from scratch i-its just overly complicated and fr-uAGH-strating. A-and this, i-it creates new stem cells, Morty, y-you know the kind that can become a-anything, the ones that b-become your whole body when y-y-ou’re in the womb, and look, theres, there’s a lot of complicated science stuff, b-but basically I can reprogram y-your body as if it were still developing and change your appearance and all kinds of stuff Morty, all kinds of science!”

Morty’s shirt was half way on when Rick grabbed his elbow and yanked him out the door, the boy stumbling after him as he struggled with the fabric. “O-oh jeez, Rick, I-I-I dunno if I want y-you to mess with my, my appearance, I think I like-”

“M-oURty we all know y-you’re insecure as fuck, just, just get in the car, Morty, I-I can always reverse it i-if you don’t like it,” He plopped into the drivers seat, kicking a few empty bottles out onto the floor and fumbling with the seatbelt. Morty finally yanked his shirt on properly and went to his place in the passenger seat.

As apprehensive as Morty was to have his genome fiddled with, he hadn’t seen Rick this excited in a while, and the scientist’s mood was infectious. He was only about half as condescending as usual, more willing to pal around and joke as he explained some of the ins and outs of this ‘rare substance.’ Although he didn’t quite understand most of what Rick said, his enthusiasm was warming, and their flight through space was a pleasant one.

“A-alright Morty, Pouirte is, it’s probably one of the safer p-places we’ve visited, there’s no biological land-mines o-or governments who hate me,” Rick said, landing the ship in a vacant parking place.

“R-really, Rick? You mean you haven’t p-pissed off their government yet?”

“Nope,” Rick replied, exiting the vehicle. “W-well, I did, but then the wh-OAUle planet had a Civil war, a-a-and all the old governments were dismantled. So I haven’t pissed off the new government yet.”

Morty chuckled nervously, following Rick out of the car and down the alien streets. The sky here was a light, dusky purple, only a few shades darker than Earth’s blue, and currently dusted with wispy clouds. The city around them was reminiscent of one on the east coast, parts of it clearly unplanned and much older than the more modern landing pads and sky scrapers. Its buildings were made of some sort of shimmering, cobalt material, reflecting the sunlight and neon signs subtly.

Rick, as usual, was unphased by the stunning visuals, and kept up a brisk pace through the winding city streets. “S-so, Rick, where are we going, t-to find this stuff?”

“W-we’re taking this planet’s equivalent to a, a bu-URRP-llet train t-to a nature preserve,” Rick replied, taking a swig from his flask and glancing at a few street signs. The language was unintelligible to Morty, but he’d seen Rick read so much alien nonsense that he figured he had some sort of translator like, built into his eyes or something.

“R-rick! W-w-what the hell, we, we can’t do that! N-n-nature preserves, they, they preserve nature, Rick! W-we might seriously screw things up!” Morty yelped, tugging at Rick’s sleeve.

“Sh-shut up, Morty,” Rick hissed, elbowing his grandson in the ribs as the mounted the stairs to what he presumed was the train station. “This stuff lit-literal-, it makes areas uninhabitable, Morty, i-it makes your biology unstable if you’re exposed to the unprocessed version. A-any animals near it b-basically get cancer, a-a-and any babies they have are born horribly mutated, Morty, we, we’re pretty much doing them a favor.” Rick passed an alien currency over the counter and retrieved two blue stickers, one of which he slapped onto Morty’s chest.

“O-oh jeez, Rick, are you sure?” Morty was apprehensive; this wouldn’t be the first time Rick had lied to make him go along with things.

“O-of course I am, when am I ever wrong?” Rick rolled his eyes.

“Lots of times, Rick! Y-you make mistakes, just-just like everyone else,” Morty retorted.

Rick just glared and proceeded to stride onto a large blue train, forcing Morty to either follow or be left behind. He followed.

When comparing the trains’ speed, ‘bullet’ was an understatement. Morty couldn’t look out the window for more than a few seconds before he became dizzy, the landscape flying by too fast to pick up any real details, only a blur of purples, blues, and oranges. Eventually he gave up trying to pick anything up, and turned his attention to the other train riders. Usually, the aliens he saw most often on a planet were the natives, and so far the planet was abundant with tall, centaur-esque creatures, their skin a golden brown and dusted with deep, sunset orange freckles. The upper torso supported a head resembling a giraffes, with two large black eyes and four curved horns sprouting from where the eyebrows would be. The ‘taur half had six spindly legs, jointed like a horses would be but evoking a more spider-y feeling. They wore long skirts, buttoned at the upper torso’s waist and laying across the back to drape around the rump and six limbs. Morty was fairly fascinated with alien life, and while he’d seen some much more bizzare and alarming creatures, this planet’s inhabitants were just as interesting, and their sunset colors struck a chord of beauty. When he had first started his adventures with Rick, they would’ve felt like monsters to him, but over the years he had ditched the ‘planetary mindset,’ as Rick put it, and was learning to appreciate all the variety in the endless multiverse presented to him.

After a moment he glanced away from the alien across from him; he didn’t know if they considered staring rude, but he didn’t want to risk it. Their pointed, spider-toe feet would probably slice open his flesh like a fillet knife if he upset them.

The train shuddered to a stop, and despite the obvious attempt at gradual braking, the riders almost all lurched forward. Morty had to scramble for purchase, and Rick, who had a firm hold on the railing overhead, grabbed him by the back of his shirt collar to stop him tumbling forward.

They exited at another station, this one surrounded by wilderness rather than city. Based on the nature-y vibes, one could assume this was the welcome center for the reserve, or park...whatever it was. Rick bypassed the gift shop and waltzed straight out the door, over the parking lot, and into the woods.

Morty scampered after him, chewing his lip nervously. They had forgone any pathways, instead descending directly into the mire. That was the closest thing he could approximate the ground here to; a mire. It was soft and spongy underfoot, sinking a good half-inch with each step and filling their footprints with greenish liquid. The reddish purple earth was host to a strange plant, one that grew like a net over the ground, thin orange vines interwoven loosely enough to show the soil beneath. The closest approximation to trees were huge pires of dirt, seemingly trained upward by a dark blue ropey plant, which grew around the pillars in a spiral and blossomed into long dangling ‘branches’ at the top with translucent ballon-esque flowers. Deeper in, creamy tan ‘ferns’ began to shoot up in spaces between the suffocating orange vines, soon joined by tall blue flowering plants. The further they went the more variety there was, until it was a dense jungle all around.

“S-so, uh, wh-what are we looking for here, Rick?” Morty stammered, trailing his fingers over a silky flower petal.

“D-don’t w-UURP-orry about it, Morty, we, we’re almost there, thi-is device,” he holds up a remote-sized device with a simple screen, “I-is leading us right to it.”

“O-oh, okay, th-that’s really cool, Rick,” Morty replied, jogging a bit to catch up. His shoes kept getting sucked into the earth, and his shorter strides caused him to fall behind. Rick mumbled something incoherent and took a swig from his flask.

Time passed, the jungle grew denser, and Morty sweatier. What had started as a leisurely walk was now a multi-mile hike that he was ill prepared for. The mire was becoming steep, craggy hills, and he could barely keep up. How Rick, his sixty year old grandpa, could do this so effortlessly was beyond him.

“Aw hell yes,” Rick stopped suddenly, and Morty stumbled over himself trying not to knock into his grandfather. “C-come on Morty quit fooling around, we, we’re here, we gotta drill down right here.”

“R-rick, shouldn’t we be wearing, like, hazmat suits or something? Y-you, you said this stuff b-basically gives you cancer!”

Rick rolled his eyes and rummaged through the seemingly endless pockets of his lab coat. “M-morty trust me, you, you’ve probably already got cancer, it’s fine. But!” He cut Morty off before he could panic. “I-Im already going to be messing with y-your genes, I can just repair any damage, easy.”

“O-oh, jeez, okay Rick, i-if you say so,” Morty stammered. Now he could be glad that the hike was over, and he quickly sat down on the rock to catch his breath.

Rick shoved his detection device into a pocket, and produced a small, black bullet, which he placed on the ground point-down. The black casing clicked open, revealing a sturdy metal interior, and a nozzle on the top. Rick attached a small hose, pressed a button, and it quickly whirred down into the earth, spitting up multicolored dirt in its wake.

After a moment, a black, murky liquid began to flow up the hose and into a canister Rick placed on the ground. “All that’s left to do now, Morty, i-is wait, a-and then we, we can do am-URP-amazing things with this stuff.” Rick grinned, reclining on the rock beside Morty.

It was rare for things to be so low-key; Rick was relaxed, like this couldn’t possibly go wrong, and that put Morty on edge. But then Rick’s hand found his, fingers intertwined. He looked up and Rick smiled, a rare, affectionate expression as he looked at Morty.  Morty blushed and smiled back shyly.

The old scientist kissed his forehead quickly, and then reclined again, gazing up at the alien sky while his companion blushed furiously beside him and the machine whirred away in the background. Morty bit his lip and grinned, tipping his head back to watch the sky with him.

___

Fuck. I’m crying again, I have to stop. I’ll try again tomorrow, I guess. I’m sorry Rick.

[rustleandeddy]

Chapter 3

Rustle held tight to Eddy’s hair and watched the little circle of sea floor illuminated by the merman’s bracelet. When he’d agreed to come along with Eddy, he’d imagined his discoveries would be a bit more… substantial than they were turning out to be. It was true that his brief appearance in the merfolk town of Barnacle had given him a wealth of fresh knowledge, the primary lesson he’d learned since then was that the sea was very big and very dark. There was also the “deep” that Eddy had warned of, a pain that would creep up as they ventured further downward. No less than five times during their journey, Eddy had to stop to let Rustle’s pain ease. The final time had required a few careful recitations from the spellbook to chase the last of the pain away.

“We are close,” Eddy said. “My farm is not very much, like my home, but you shall see it all.”

“What sort of a farm can you have beneath the sea. I only know that humans and such have them, but they need sun,” Rustle said.

“Not sun here. Just warm. The good warm water is what it takes. From below.”

“Good warm water from below,” Rustle said. “Maybe when we get a moment, we can work on that spell so you can speak more clearly.”

“Yes, yes. But not soon. Work first.”

He swept lower and slowed his pace. Rustle experimentally released Eddy’s hair and worked his legs, arms, and wings. At this speed, he could just about keep up. Though it took much more effort than simply hitching a ride, it felt nice to have a bit of control over where he was going. … At least until he felt a stir of motion in the unseen water around him that flashed images of predatory creatures waiting to gobble him up. He darted a bit closer to Eddy for the sake of safety.

It was subtle, but his host was clearly more at ease in this part of the ocean than he had been even in Barnacle. The smile on his face was wider, and his motions had a more confident, smoother, more graceful quality to them. Another sign that he was entering the depths better suited to mermen than mermaids was the glow that was beginning to form at the edges of his irises and the tips of his fins and spines. It wasn’t enough to illuminate their surroundings even as well as the jellyfish lamps in his home, but it provided enough light to give form to sea floor around them.

“Here. This is my farm. Stay far from the pointy piece in the middle. Very hot. It will burn if you go close.”

Rustle strained his eyes to see the tableau opening beneath him, but with only Eddy’s natural glow, he could only make out the faintest hint of wafting forms and angular, gnarly rock formations. He could see that the farm was tucked nicely into a little rift in the sea floor. Hidden and protected as it was from the open water, Rustle decided it might be acceptable to take the measured risk of summoning some light of his own.

He shut his eyes and fluttered his wings. For a fairy, glowing took little effort. Indeed, most times it took more effort to avoid it. The smoldering blue of his own light swelled and pulsed, and slowly the ‘farm’ revealed itself to him.

A tall, narrow spire jutted up from the center of a strip of waving red fronds. The density and variety of the life here almost made up for the sparseness of the journey here. Back in the forest, most things were variations of blue or green, gray or brown. Here, every color in the rainbow seemed to get equal consideration. The stone was marbled with turquoise and yellow. The fronds ran the spectrum from pale yellow to brilliant red. Long, narrow tubes jutted up from the waving seaweed and winked with wriggling green and white forms. Scattered among them were fish and things which Rustle didn’t even know how to classify. Some looked too perfectly painted with brilliant, contrasting color to have been anything but the daydream of an idle artist. Others had the rocky, misshapen visage of something the gods knew most would never have to see. They did not scurry and hide at the arrival of the merman or the sudden appearance of light. It was as though they knew that they belonged here and anything else which might arrive was of no concern to them.

“The pointy bit there, in the middle, is where the good warm water comes from,” Eddy said.

He pointed to the milky white plume of water gushing from the top.

“Don’t go close. Very hot. The pointy things with the rushing water will burn. But look around. There isn’t much here that will try to eat you, I don’t think.”

“I would prefer a bit more certainty than that,” Rustle said.

“Me too!” Eddy said brightly.

Without further elaboration, he disappeared into the waving fronds and the slow, steady scrape of his claw-shaped tool on stone commenced. Rather than rely upon Eddy’s weak assertion of his safety, Rustle joined him among the fronds. The merman looked up from his work and smiled.

“You want to know what I do?” he asked.

“Yes please,” Rustle said.

Eddy held up the claw tool.

“Scraper, from worm teeth. Big worm teeth, from down low.”

He pointed to the stone, where assorted little snails and other hard-shelled creatures held tight to the stone and burrowed among the silt.

“Little clingers. They eat the bottom parts of the fronds, and then the fronds float up and I can’t have them. No good. So, I scrape.”

It was oddly beautiful to watch as Eddy worked. These were the same snails whose shells adorned his bracelet and provided light when jostled. As a result, each scrape across the stone caused a sweep of glowing points to appear where the snails were hiding. Though the ones on his wrist were small, many along the stones grew much larger. The merman pried one free. It was about half the size of Rustle, if he were to curl himself up.

“Such a pain, these. Always scraping and sifting. But once they are off the bottom, they have a soft bit, see?”

He pointed at the underside, then raised it up and slurped the snail from its shell.

“Good eating,” he said, juicily chewing it. “Enough of these and I don’t need lunch. And a good hard shell. Mira uses them. She makes things to sell. They don’t glow as good as the small ones, but very pretty in the right light.”

Rustle winced a bit as he watched Eddy snacking on the creature. The merman popped smaller one off a stone and offered it up.

“Try one?”

“No.”

He scratched his head. “You say you want new things, but you don’t want any of the new things.”

“I want to learn new things. I don’t need to taste them to do that.”

“You do if you want to know what they taste like.” Eddy tossed the snail into his bag and continued to maintain the roots of his patch. “What do you want to know?”

“What is that spire that sprays the hot water?”

“It is connected to way down deep. Water goes way down deep, where there are things that aren’t up here. Then it gets hot, because it is hot way down deep, and it makes it spray up and bring the new things with it. And here and there creatures eat the new things, and they grow up bigger stronger. Also, lots of different colors! Here, come, come.”

He swam through the forest of fronds until he reached what at first glance was a stretch of the rift covered with polished stones, but they fluttered now and again, causing stirrings of silt and puffs of water.

“These here, these are our shellfish. They have been in the family since my father’s father. They make pearls. Big ones. And they make them faster than anyone else's I know.” He moved a stone to reveal a little bag of them. “These are ones I found that weren’t nice enough for selling. But look at them.”

He tugged the bag open and dumped them out into his hand.

“Pearls?”

“Yes! You don’t know them?”

“No.”

“Little, pretty, hard things. Air breathers pay much for them. And most are white, but we have blue, yellow, red, mixes of colors, colors that are different if you look in different light, or in a different way. Very special. Only in farms like this.”

Rustle picked one up out of Eddy’s hand. It was tiny by merfolk standards, and a bit misshapen. It was about the size of Rustle’s fist and had a unique and gorgeous luster. The fairy was astounded by the piece.

“May I have this?” he asked.

Eddy smiled. “Yes, you can have. Maybe when you go back to the surface, you will bring me something special, yes?”

“I don’t know if there is anything that would interest you.”

“You bring the thing. It will interest me. To me, that pearl is a small one I can’t sell, but you look at it like treasure. This is why we help each other, yes? Show each other the trash the other will treasure! I have much work to do, but maybe we’ll find more trash for you.”

#

Much of what Rustle reasoned must have been the morning was spent tending to the roots of his frond patch, weeding out those too small to be of any use and harvesting those that had grown large enough. When that was through, Eddy donned the odd garment he’d packed away. It was a thick, rough gray hide, like some manner of leather but with a rubberier texture. It covered him along the front like a smock, and was paired with a skirt of sorts to protect his tail and thick mittens to protect his hands. It even had something of a backwards hood with tiny slits in it to see through, such that when fully dressed the wasn’t a scrap of flesh exposed from the front.

“What is this all about?” Rustle asked.

“The hot thing, it is best if it does not grow too tall, and that it does not clog,” Eddy said, fitting the claw over the mitten. “So I have to shape the top sometimes.”

He glanced left, right, and up, then lowered his voice and whispered. “Also I need this for getting into my mine. We go there next.”

He swam up while Rustle watched. Curious as the fairy was, the heat from the water plume was already as much as he could handle. Perhaps sensing Rustle’s curiosity, after Eddy had chipped away a bit of end of the spire, he caught the removed piece in his gloved hand and swam back with it.

“This is very special,” he said, holding bit of stone, still so hot it made the water around it sizzle and shimmer. “These bits have very much of the same new things that are in the water. And they are lucky. If you bury one of these under a new home, that home will be a place of wealth and happiness. I will leave it here. Maybe you will take it with you. Not so much trash as the bad pearl, but still interesting. That is for later. Now we go to the mine. Inside we will have lunch, and then more work. There are many new things for you there. Things even mermaids never see. Come!”

He grabbed his bag and swam deeper through rift. Rustle buzzed along as best he could, but a mixture of his own fatigue and Eddy’s enthusiasm caused him to fall behind. He wasn’t terribly concerned about it. In all of the time they had been in the rift, nothing particularly large and frightening had reared its head. A few of the more grotesque denizens of the deep he’d seen could probably make a meal of Rustle if they tried, but they were all far too slow to catch him even at his diminished speed. And with the glow of his fins and spines, Eddy was simple enough to spot at a distance. So Rustle moved at his own pace and gazed at his surroundings.

Beyond the grounds of Eddy’s ‘farm,’ the rift was a much wilder and more chaotic place. A few threads of the same feathery seaweed grew here or there, but they were joined by prickly or spongy growths of various types. Other hot water spires jutted up, each with their own bloom of life around them. Through time and practice, Rustle found his connection with the water very slowly developing… though sometimes he could swear he felt a hint of the crisp, lively energy of wind and air even here in the water. He stopped and touched his fingers to the stone. It wasn’t possible, of course. How could there be anything more than a little trapped pocket of air like the one near the shore? And even something that large didn’t seem likely. Still, knowing that didn’t change the fact that he could feel the shadow of a whisper of a breeze somewhere beneath him. So strange…

“Come!” Eddy called. “Nearly there!”

Rustle set the consideration aside and fluttered along after the merman until he reached what was easily the least inviting patch of sea floor he’d yet encountered. A section of the rift wall had eroded away somewhat, and in the inky blackness within the scoured-out tunnel, scalding hot water and cloudy silt swirled and churned. The more jagged and horrid looking growths and creatures he’d spotted along the way seemed utterly enamored by the opening, gathering around its perimeter and giving it the look of a snarling mouth ringed with teeth.

“I found this one day, looking for good stones,” Eddy called, the rush of water making it difficult to hear him. “Most times the hot water comes up through the stone. I see this here, with the water in the stone, and I think, maybe there is more tunnel behind. And there is. So much good things behind it. And because it is so hard to get to, no one else ever comes. No one even knows it is there.”

“You have to swim through that?” Rustle called.

“Yes! But I have these clothes. If I am fast, it does not hurt at all.”

“What about me?”

“I have this bag!”

“Eddy, I don’t like being—”

“It will be fast!” Eddy assured him.

Before he could object further, the merman snatched him and tossed him into the bag. Eddy launched forward, pinning Rustle to the bottom of the satchel amid the glass jar of sweets, a few eels, assorted shells, and other loose ends. The bag shook and a few errant spritzes of hot water made it past the flap, but it was over after a few seconds and a mitten-clad hand reached in to free him.

“See! Quick! … Did I do wrong?” Eddy said.

Rustle’s eyes, fists, and teeth were clenched tight.

“Eddy, how many times do I have to tell you? Fairies don’t like to be shut away in tight spaces! It is bad enough I’m in the sea, away from the wind and sky, but then you throw me in a bag and drag me into a cave without even waiting to see what I have to say about it?” Rustle raved, buzzing about.

“Calm! Be calm! Don’t hit,” Eddy said, flinching when Rustle buzzed close. “There is room here. Lots of room. I am sorry about the bag but there is lots of room, and many things for you to see!”

He tugged at his outfit and slid it free, tucking it into his bag. They were not far from where the billows of hot water gave way to the marginally cooler water of the cave. With the outfit shed, the glow of his spines and eyes, when combined with Rustle’s glow, illuminated the walls adequately to reveal a remarkable amount of detail. And indeed, despite his lingering anger, once Rustle allowed himself to look upon the walls he was rendered speechless by what he saw. Scattered liberally about the walls were strange organic shapes set into the stone. He recognized the curl of shells like those of the snails, clams, and other odd creatures Eddy had shown off further up in the rift, but these weren’t quite the same. They were larger, and seemed to be made from the stone itself. Veins of glittery stone threaded among them, catching the light and making the walls seem to shimmer as he moved.

“What are they?” Rustle said.

“The shiny bit is silver and gold. The stone creatures? I do not know. There are more, other places in the mine. Some are things I have never seen beyond the walls of this place.”

“Amazing…”

“You see? I show you things no one else sees. Very nice, yes? Now you!”

“Now me what?”

“We have lunch. You see all of this because of me. Now you tell me things I don’t know.”

He dug out the jar of sweets, then unfurled one of the eels and gingerly held it into the swirling, scalding water for a few moments.

Rustle took an offered sweet and nibbled at it as Eddy continued.

“Already I know that a fairy can glow, and that a fairy is afraid of small places even though a fairy is small. And they punch harder than a little thing should be able to punch and have bad tempers. These things I did not know. What are more things?”

“Um…” Rustle began, rubbing the back of his neck. “It is hard to say. When you’re surrounded by something all your life, it’s hard to know it’s special. And if you don’t know anything about me, then where do I start?”

Eddy pulled the eel from the hot water and messily crunched into it. Rustle grimaced and looked away.

“Wherever you want, Rustle. It is all new to me!” Eddy said, munching happily. “Maybe we look at the book, and you teach me better magic? I bet even Mira doesn’t learn fairy-style magic.”

“I think that may be a good idea. If I am breathing water because of a spell you cast, I would like to know that you could cast it again if you need to.”

“That one I can cast very much. But I want to know the others.”

He pulled the book from his bag and spread it out on the flattest bit of cave floor he could find. Rustle looked over the pages briefly, but there wasn’t much reason for it. Though the book had the subtle but undeniable aura of a thing of mystic power, the looping shapes spiraling across the page may as well have been random smudges for all he knew.

“You know… I can’t read this. Fairies speak. We tell each other things. The marks we leave are simple. Circles of stones and leaves. We don’t have spell books. I cannot read this.”

Eddy nodded. “This I was afraid of. But still. You say fairies are good with magic, and you are good with it even without spell books. I am bad with magic, but even I can do magic with the spell book. So a fairy that can use a spell book would be very good with magic, and that would help me to be better!”

Rustle flitted down and stood atop the page, eying the complex shapes. “I suppose. But that would mean I’d have to learn to read this. That will take time. More time than we have, probably. What if I try to help you in different ways?”

“Like how?”

“How do you cast the spell?”

He slapped a finger down on the page at the beginning of a spiral, nearly bumping Rustle from the book. “I say this word here, and all of the others after it, very much times. Over and over. And then something happens maybe.”

“You don’t focus?”

“Focus? No. Only read. I should focus?”

“You must. That’s all magic is, at least for us. You reach out into the power of the world around you and… ask it to do as you wish. But to do it, you have to be aware of it, to feel it.”

“You show me how to do this.”

“You may as well be asking me how to show you to breathe.”

“Yes! You show me how to breathe! I do not do this to air without magic, so that is a help.”

“No, that’s not what I… Fine. Close your eyes.”

Eddy nodded happily and shut his eyes, though their glow was still eerily visible through the thin skin of his eyelids.

“Now just feel the air… er… the water around you. Feel how it moves, and—”

Eddy took another noisy bite of his eel and munched happily. Rustle glared at him, a pointless gesture since his eyes were still shut.

“If you are focusing, then you are only focusing. That’s the point of it!” Rustle said.

“So no eating at the same time?”

“No!”

“This will be less fun than I hoped.”

He let the eel float beside him and dedicated himself wholly to the task.

“Just feel the way it moves around you. When you move your hand or fin, feel how it curls and swirls.”

“I do this. I know how the water moves.”

“I don’t want you to know how it moves. I want you to feel it. To sense it with more than your skin. Sense it in your mind.”

Eddy nodded again and shut his eyes tighter, as though exerting physical effort would somehow bring enlightenment more quickly. Rustle tried to open his mind as well. Water had a different nature to it than air, but they had much in common. The others back home said the truly talented water fairies found a way to use their innate knowledge and affinity for wind to connect to the water as well, and then they became much more powerful. They lived longer, they were able to venture further from home and take greater risks. They were legends among their people. He himself had never gotten the knack. To him they had always been two different things. When he reached out with his mind, inviting the energy of the water to mix with his, inevitably he found his will and thoughts drawn toward the air, distracting him from the water.

He paused for a moment… Even now, it was the feeling of air that drew the focus of his mind… Air that was quite near.

He turned toward the darkened tunnel ahead. There was no mistaking it. Somewhere out there, tantalizingly beyond his fingertips, there was air. No. Not just air. Wind. It had the life and stir of a breeze along the surface, but the surface was so very far away. How could that be?

Without an explanation, Rustle buzzed through the water toward the source. He had to know. Being cut off from his home wind had been steadily bothering him more and more. The promise of a real breeze felt like he was being offered a cool drink of water after wasting in the desert for days. He needed to feel the air on his skin again.

He drifted deeper and deeper into the darkness. His own dim, natural glow lit the way. The veins of precious metal twisted away, following other branching paths. The tool marks left by years of mining became sparse and scattered. The tunnel walls had a sharper, rougher texture here. The stone caught his glow with a glassy sheen. Little open voids covered the entire tunnel around him, like a churning foamy sea had been instantly turned to stone, the bursting bubbles now forming razor sharp edges. But as he traveled, the feel of the air drew nearer.

He came to a stone that was unlike the others. It was the same dull gray as the entrance of the mine. The edges were too smooth and precise to have been caused by a break. This was crafted and moved. He could not conceive of the amount of effort it must have taken, as it reached from floor to ceiling, truly massive. From Rustle’s diminutive point of view, moving it would have been like moving a mountain. He investigated all around it and found that it fit quite snuggly against the wall of the tunnel. There wasn’t a crack or crevice large enough for him to squeeze though—not that he would have risked it with the harsh texture of the walls in this section of tunnel. But there was no question in his mind. Somewhere not far behind this stone lay a drifting, vibrant wind.

“Rustle! Little fairyman!” called Eddy’s voice in the distance, flavored with concern.

“Here!” Rustle called.

The distant glow of Eddy’s eyes and fins approached from the darkened tunnel behind him.

“Rustle! I tried to focus and when I stopped you were not there! You must tell me when you go!” Eddy said.

“What is this stone, Eddy?”

Eddy looked the stone up and down. “I do not know. A stone where it does not belong.”

“That was my thinking. Have you ever seen it before?”

“Did you pass anything but black stone on the way here?”

“No.”

“Then why would I have come this way. There is much good stuff in the mine, closer to the opening. I never needed to come so deep.” He swam a little closer. “Someone made this stone…”

“I thought so too.”

“How did you find it?”

“I felt air behind it. More than just a few bubbles.”

“No… Air so low? That does not happen. Never that I’ve seen.”

“I am certain of it. It is a shame the stone is impossible to move. I wonder if we could see where the air is.”

Eddy ran his fingers over the stone, then clapped away the silt.

“I will move it.”

“But it is enormous.”

He crossed his arms and threw his head back proudly. “I am a merman. We go down deep, and we are strong. It is what we do. Wait here, Rustle. I will get my things.

#

After a few moments, Eddy returned. His heart was soaring at all of the new and exciting things that had happened already. For years, his days had been largely the same. Collect some pearls, give them to Mira. Tend to the fronds, tend to the shellfish, tend to the mines, and back with the final tide to sleep and more of the same the next day. Even having someone to talk to, to explain the tedium to, had brightened his day enormously. And now, right here within his own mine, there was something new. It was wonderful. It was a sign that seeking someone from the surface was the right thing to do.

He found his way to where Rustle was waiting beside the stone.

“Move aside, Rustle,” Eddy said, setting down the things he had fetched.

In addition to his bag, his outfit, and his claw, he’d brought some of the tools he usually left here in the mine. Right now, the one that made the most sense was his pick-rod. He pulled on his mittens and took the rod in hand.

“What’s that?”

“This is my pick!”

“It looks a bit crude.”

Eddy gripped it with both hands and looked rather defensive. It was crude, little more than a slightly crooked length of metal with a blunt, hammered end. More than anything else, it looked like a spear of all metal construction that had been horribly dulled, or perhaps never properly sharpened.

“It is a fine pick. Things of metal, bigger than bits of jewelry, are very hard to get for merfolk. The merfolk who work metal must be near the Glowing Pools, or else they must trade with those from above. Surface people do not make many tools that are good for the water. This is a fine pick. It belonged to my father. You will see how fine. Move away.”

Rustle helpfully flitted to the far side of the tunnel. Eddy swam back a fair distance, gripped the rod tightly, then pumped his tail madly. In no time at all he was cutting through the water at an incredible pace. He reached the stone and hurled the pick with all of his considerable might. With his strength and speed combined, it penetrated the rock easily, wedging firmly between the black of the tunnel and the gray of the unexplained blockage.

Eddy looped back and grasped the pick handle, but it didn’t budge. He smirked and adjusted his mitts, then held firm and started to work his tail. The current of the powerful strokes kicked up bits of stone and silt that hadn’t been disturbed in ages. The water turned murky. Rustle darted further and further away to spare himself the rushing water and stinging fragments of sharp stone. Then, with a long, slow grind, the stone started to move. It barely budged before coming to a stop, but that was enough. The merman wedged one mitt through the gap he’d created and held firm to the wall, then grasped the stone and heaved. Thus anchored, and therefore able to depend upon his raw strength rather than the thrust of his tail, he started to make real progress. The gray stone slid, rolled, and finally tipped forward, sending up a final, monumental rush of stone and silt.

He shielded his eyes as the whoosh of water swept his long hair back. When the dust cleared, he blinked the silky, fine silt from his eyes.

Rustle darted back to join him. There was a fresh branch of tunnel, nearly as large as the one that had led this far. But unlike the rest of the tunnel, in this portion the walls had been smoothed, the only roughness coming not from viciously sharp, ancient voids but instead more of the crusty green growth. And ahead, just visible at the edge of their glow, the tunnel curved upward. They swam along, following the curve of the tunnel up and down, left and right. The smoothed portion abruptly stopped, with a few very-clear merfolk words etched into the stone.

Beware. Danger.

“What does it say?” Rustle asked.

“Just telling us there is more ahead to watch for,” Eddy replied.

It wasn’t so far from the truth.

They continued forward, where the walls returned to their razor sharp texture. The crusty green growth tapered off sharply, and the water had an oddly stale feel to it. Eventually, at the peak of a final upward slope in the tunnel, they could just barely make out the silvery, churning refraction of the water’s surface.

Both fairy and merman wordlessly approached the surface. They blinked at each other, then at the surface again. Eddy was the first to brave the it. He stuck his head up, but once he left the water, the glow if his eyes faded, leaving him staring into pitch blackness. He squinted his eyes as a warm, constant wind whistled against him.

Rustle darted up out of the water, then flopped down upon the smoothed stone near the surface. The gentle lapping of water over untold centuries had smoothed it sufficiently that the fairy didn’t injure himself, but he seemed unable to lift his own weight with his wings. Rustle coughed and gagged. Eddy spat and coughed until his lungs were clear, then croaked the words of the water-for-air spell. The fairy shook his head and staggered to his feet.

“Until you learn your own water-for-air, you have to tell me when you want to leave,” Eddy said.

The fairy a mouthful of water, then flicked the sea from his wings and buzzed into the air.

“You could have warned me.”

“That is what I said to you.”

Rustle glared at Eddy for a moment, then turned and let himself drift on the wind, barely fluttering his wings.

“It is so wonderful to have the wind about me again!” He flitted in a loop. “I feel light as a feather again. But this wind… it’s so different. It’s nothing like the wind of home. Like they haven’t touched and mixed in years. Perhaps they’ve never touched at all.”

They each strained their eyes, but their light didn’t penetrate more than a few feet from the small pool at the mouth of the tunnel. It felt like they were a little island of reality at the edge of an endless void of oblivion.

“What is this place?” Rustle said.

Eddy grinned wide. “I will tell you, Rustle the fairyman. This… is adventure.”

[lillilly217]

Let 'em stare. 

I find a place in front of the large glass window foggy with the sweat of the crowd, that looks out to the view of the twinkling lights of the bridge and sky scrapers.

Letting the music fill me, my body begins to sway. Languid motion from my arms to my fingertips,circling my hips with the beat. I close my eyes so I don't have to see who's watching.

All my troubles and worries of the day melt away as I loose my self, feeling at peace in the room.

The music phases to a slow seductive beat. Slowly opening my eyes to find yours locked on me. 

You can feel my fire. Your eyes are full of heat. You stand slowly and saunter towards me like a cat. Loosening your tie a bit, is the only break in your cool. 

Your arm immediately wraps around my waste. Spinning me around so your behind me pushing me closer to the corner of the large framed glass. My arms fly up and back around your neck, your breathing heavy in my hair.

I push my ass high into your hips and we begin to sway together to this haunting beat. Kissing and biting my neck your hands sliding up my body squeezing my breasts. 

"Oh! ... Aaah! " Escapes my lips.

You raise your eyes and catch mine in our reflection in the glass. 

Fuck! We look so hot like this!

I melt against you, we sway loosely to the beat. And heat, so much heat.

Shit ! This is getting intense! We might catch on fire!

I muse to my self.

Greedy hands slide along my thighs to my cheeks grabbing and parting them. Your fingers brush my lace covered lips. Wet w/ desire for you. You can't resist slipping one in. I press my hands high against the sweaty glass. 

Pushing my hips into your motion as you try to control me. Fingers pumping me. I grind my self into you. One hand grabs my hip.You twirl me around and without hesitation our lips are drinking our depths in front of every one . Sucking on my ear you whisper

"I need to fuck you now." Clasping your hand I turn to face you. Taking your hand to my mouth I lick my juices off your fingers slowly. 

I can almost see your inner wolf ears perk up as the inferno in you is raging. You take me by the hand and quickly drag me towards the elevator, grabbing our coats from or table on the way. 

Once we are inside and the elevator doors close, you rush me against the wall. Our hands are every where. You feast on my lips. I'm fairly certain my skirt is up around my waste but I don't care. I'm so lost in lust. The elevator dings. In a flash you are off me. My skirt flutters back down just as the door opens and and an old couple enters . They look at us then to each other with knowing smirks. 

Keeping my head down I peak over at you. The flush on your cheeks match the heat I feel in mine and my lips are tingling and swollen. Inches separate us as we try to keep composure, but our pinkies are sweetly interlocked as the elevator descends to the 18th floor. 

The doors open. We slide past the couple

into the hall. The second the doors close you spin and pin me to the wall . Grasping both of my hands in one of yours holding them above my head. Slowly deliberately sucking on my lips with a new, chilling calm. Your fingers gently trace and tickle thin veil of damp lace that still covers my sex.

I'm panting 

"Mmmmmmmm" you hum into my neck " So wet and needy for me again aren't you?" 

Sliding your fingers in my panties you pull and snap them back. "These I want to keep. You must give them to me."

"Mmmmmmmm" I moan. I'm so turned on right now I'll give you what ever you want, I'm sure. "W'ever you want" I mumble into your lips as my head spins with desire. 

"Good girl." At that moment you release me. Taking in my hand in yours and leading me down the hall you find your room key. 

*******************************************

I'm certain your gonna fuck me the second we enter your room.

However, Instead, you take your jacket off and drape it over the chair and hang my coat in the wardrobe before heading to the minibar. 

"Can I make you a drink?" 

"Sure. " I say a bit puzzled as I survey the room. The room is beautiful, spacious. 

A large four poster bed made of gorgeous carved dark wood is the first thing my eyes are drawn to. Big fluffy white pillows on royal blue velvet coverlet. Imagining my bare porcelain skin sprawled across it. 

Yes.

I think to myself. You hand me a glass tumbler with ice and inhaling, I recognize,

brandy. Perfect. 

"Cheers." You say. "To us. 

For our one night in paradise." 

"One night? " my voice, a bit too high pitched, betrays my cool. "I thought you would stay..."

"I can't stay. I have a buyers meeting here tomorrow and I fly out after. I have to get back. I have some serious business back home to attend to." Shaking your head and looking away.

Lowering my eyes, I clink my glass to yours feeling a heaviness fill my heart with the realization that your leaving. 

Damn.

"Cheers." Nodding at you slightly. Taking a long sip, watching you,

watching me.

Wondering if you can read the disappointment on my face, or if you even care.

You look more like your ready to pounce, but instead, you remain controlled and say,

"Why don't you take some time to freshen up." You nod towards the bathroom. 

Now I'm really puzzled.

"O-kaaaay..." I say heading towards the bathroom.

He must really wants these panties.

"I have a surprise for you in there." You say trying to quell my confusion. "Take your time. I want to do this right."

Your words comfort me. I really could use a minute to get my head together.

This is big for me. For us, huge, actually.

I close the door behind me and lock it

[ukdamo]

The Quaker’s Meeting

Samuel Lover

A traveller wended the wilds among, With a purse of gold and a silver tongue; His hat it was broad, and all drab were his clothes, For he hated high colors — except on his nose, And he met with a lady, the story goes. Heigho! yea thee and nay thee.

The damsel she cast him a merry blink, And the traveller nothing was loth, I think, Her merry black eye beamed her bonnet beneath, And the Quaker, he grinned, for he'd very good teeth, And he asked, " Art thee going to ride on the heath? "

" I hope you'll protect me, kind sir, " said the maid, " As to ride this heath over, I'm sadly afraid; For robbers, they say, here in numbers abound, And I wouldn't for anything I should be found, For, between you and me, I have five hundred pound. "

" If that is thee own, dear, " the Quaker, he said, " I ne'er saw a maiden I sooner would wed; And I have another five hundred just now, In the padding that's under my saddle-bow, And I'll settle it all upon thee, I vow! "

The maiden she smil'd, and her rein she drew, " Your offer I'll take, but I'll not take you, " A pistol she held at the Quaker's head — " Now give me your gold, or I'll give you my lead, 'Tis under the saddle, I think you said. "

The damsel she ripped up the saddle-bow, And the Quaker was never a quaker till now! And he saw, by the fair one he wished for a bride, His purse borne away with a swaggering stride, And the eye that shamm'd tender, now only defied.

" The spirit doth move me, friend Broadbrim, " quoth she, " To take all this filthy temptation from thee, For Mammon deceiveth, and beauty is fleeting, Accept from thy maiden this right-loving greeting, For much doth she profit by this Quaker's meeting!

" And hark! jolly Quaker, so rosy and sly, Have righteousness, more than a wench, in thine eye; Don't go again peeping girls' bonnets beneath, Remember the one that you met on the heath, Her name's Jimmy Barlow, I tell to your teeth. "

" Friend James, " quoth the Quaker, " pray listen to me, For thou canst confer a great favor, d'ye see; The gold thou hast taken is not mine, my friend, But my master's; and truly on thee I depend, To make it appear I my trust did defend.

" So fire a few shots thro' my clothes, here and there, To make it appear 'twas a desp'rate affair. " So Jim he popp'd first through the skirt of his coat, And then through his collar — quite close to his throat; " Now one thro' my broadbrim, " quoth Ephraim, " I vote. "

" I have but a brace, " said bold Jim, " and they're spent, And I won't load again for a make-believe rent. " — " Then! " — said Ephraim, producing his pistols, " just give My five hundred pounds back, or, as sure as you live, I'll make of your body a riddle or sieve. "

Jim Barlow was diddled — and, tho' he was game, He saw Ephraim's pistol so deadly in aim, That he gave up the gold, and he took to his scrapers, And when the whole story got into the papers, They said that " the thieves were no match for the Quakers . " Heigho! yea thee and nay thee.

[greywinged-writing]

Fifty Games.

I gulp a breathe of cold air. It always seems to rain in the Pacific Northwest. I force myself to run to the garage across the street. My clothes would be soaking wet by the time I’d make it up the interview for Kate. She’s lucky I’d ever even think of doing this for her.

Seattle however was always a fun place to hang out. I love roaming the old town areas. They almost beat Portland if they had Shanghai tunnels to tour maybe then it would beat it. Their gum wall and space needle aren’t much to write home about.

Kate works for a newspaper company, this year they’re focusing on new technologies and the companies that produce them. The company is called Grey Technology. It makes all sorts of electronics like high end phones and computers. They’re one of the largest companies in the world. I have no idea how Kate got an interview with the CEO of the place but she worked her way to one. Too bad she got sick.

I was pleasantly surprised to arrive thirty minutes before the interview. I image it like a doctor’s appointment, arrive early Incase they can get you early but be more likely to sit and wait for an hour because they’re late. No bother I still entered the gorgeous sky scraper, not with pretty pink glass but it was still quite eye catching. The elevator inside was in a large glass tube and the ceiling in the lobby was quite high. Over a portion of the wall with the elevator there were the words “GREY TECHNOLOGY” on a large steel plaque. The marble lobby was very pretty but I still caught hospital vibes from it.

I walk over to one of the many desks. A woman not much older than me with similar mushroom brown hair to mine sits in the chair. She is wearing a black blazer and skirt. She is honestly one of the most gorgeous women I’ve seen. Even with the stern cold look on her face.

“Yes?” Her voice flutters. I can feel my face get hot and I suddenly remember I’m not here to gawk over attractive people.

“Oh I’m- Anne Steele I’m stepping in for Miss Katherine Kavanagh’s interview with Mr Grey.” I suppress a stutter and quickly look away from the woman sheepishly. She looks over at her laptop for a brief moment.

“Miss Kavanagh? Yes. Thanks for arriving early Ms Steele. Please sign this sheet. She hands me a clipboard with a sign in sheet. It’s filled with other signatures and I promptly include mine to the list. She hands me a vistor badge. “Twentieth floor second door on your right.”

I can’t help but feel out of place in the elevator filled with people in suits. I’m simply wearing my black skirt, white black dotted button up with a navy blue jacket with elbow patches. The floors ding as people get on and exit. Until finally we hit the twentieth floor and I squeeze my way out.

I walk shortly down the hallway the door I’m to enter has a paper on it. “Knock please.” I oblige. A petit older Hispanic woman opens the door. She looks almost like a grandma who would stuff me with cookies and tasty food. I feel immediately at more ease. The room smells of chocolate cookies from here and I feel curious. That doesn’t seem too professional?

“Miss Steele?” She asks, the woman at the desk must’ve informed her I was coming.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Alright dear, come on in”

The smell of cookies only grows stronger as I enter the room. It feels warm and inviting. This room seems very different to the others. It has red curtains and a wooded flooring compared to the typical office carpet. I then notice a man who quickly rises from his chair and walks over to me outreaching his hand. I receive a firm shake. He’s much taller than me and likely taller than average. Perhaps 6”4? His hair is much darker than mine and I almost immediately notice the scar on his shaved chin. He also has, Icey blue eyes that don’t feel cold despite their color.

“Lovely to make your acquaintance Ms Steele.”

“I-I u-uh yes Miss Kavanagh apologizes for her absence. I am her roommate. We studied at Portland state and graduated a couple months back. She now works for some newspaper that I forget the name of...”

“What about you?” He asks curiously as he pulls a chair for me. I roll my eyes.

“I’m here to interview you Mr Grey.” I avoid the question. I don’t really want to tell a billionaire I’m still job hunting. I majored in English but now I’m not so sure it’s what I want to do.

“I suppose but it’s not as fun...” he says in a humorous way as I sit in the chair he pulled out for me. “Care for a snack.” He asks and I realize the cookie smell is from the plate of fresh chocolate chip cookies. They look amazing, but I shake my head.

“What got you into technology in the first place?” I ask he smiles. Then looks into the distance thinking obviously a passion of his i scribble that down.

“When I was 15 my adoptive father bought me a very very old computer. Me and a couple of friends took I apart and rebuilt it changing things that did and did not work. I wanted to make computers that were of high quality but affordable for poor people like I was when I was younger.” I jotted down his every word.

“What do you think you owe your success too?”

“I think communication with my team and making sure people get what they deserve in my work force is really what it adds up to. Oh and good advertising.”

“Really?” I raise an eyebrow at the final comment. Stifling laughter.

“Just being honest.”

“What would you say to people wanting to get into the tech industry?”

“Don’t hold yourself back. Give every opportunity a try and familiarize yourself with everything you can. Also internships will always be helpful.”

“Where did you go to school?”

“Just went through high school. Couldn’t afford college however now I have the money I’m going and getting an arts and history degree. I’m also interested in teaching. Currently going to University of Washington.”

“Mr Grey you have 5 minutes till your meeting.” The older lady announces. He nods curtly.

“I hope we’ve gotten enough- Ms Steele?” He asks and I nod in a reply.

“Thank you for your time.” I mumble and get up. The lady shows me out of the room.

“Thank you for yours.” He says before the door closes. I feel myself flush. His time is far more valuable than mine yet he still said that. I feel myself glow as I leave the building. That was so much more easy than I thought it would be.

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