#Skip Compactor

[thetford]

Recycling Machines

Recycling machines play a pivotal role in environmental sustainability, efficiently processing materials like plastics, glass, and paper for reuse. These innovative technologies contribute to waste reduction, conservation of resources, and a cleaner planet. Embracing recycling machines is a crucial step toward building a more sustainable and eco-friendly future.

[aeide-thea]

negotiating with people wrt what & when to eat is like. SO fucking hard actually

[vellichorom]

i feel like this is an obvious question based on what you've said abt tsp,exe in previous moments, but is it malware of some sort?

what im asking is: if you were to download the stanley parable.exe onto your computer, would the game (or ig thierry) do typical creepypasta virus game things like encrypting your files, getting a hold of your personal info, putting pop-ups on your screen that either multiply or dont close whenever you try to close them, manually crash/turn off/restart your computer, or other adjacent things?

as a matter of fact, it does ~

are the ".exe" genre of games considered malware ??? i mean, i know of ones that could be but... curious;

now, i of course welcome my beloved @tomiechu's input as well here if they have anything to add, but the way i see it;

your personal information & files are safe! most of the odd happenings occur within the game & tucked in its own files; the worst you may have to worry about is your storage space getting filled brimming, or the occasional bug or buggy pop up. it's one of those things you have to consciously go & find in your computer more than it is in your face, methink.

what is it that's taking up that storage space? well, the game's a bit heftier & bloated than the original game would be, & while its files are getting moved around, altered, & deleted all the time ( due to thierry actively updating the thing ), you're likely to find a couple of his digital footprints, a few notes & to do lists, stuff like that. among other things... a couple audio clips dated back to the skip button period, a thorough, drawn chart of rosemary's anatomy, a few notes meant to be scattered in the office that have nothing to do with the in-game lore... et cetera.

in-game, the gameplay is relatively normal - as much you'd probably expect from the base game, but wow... there's a LOT of endings to this thing, isn't there? & the game is liable to freeze & pause in certain rooms & areas, textures of red may seem to flicker in in random spots & may stay there, depending. there IS an occasional jumpscare in the form of some horrific bug - perhaps like the sound of grinding or the visage of a character without a face, but nothing the game should have pre-programmed; nothing with a record it should have ever been. fans of the game ( in this world ) are truly puzzled.

there were once reports of players being able to find traces of old viscera on the compactor plates, or outright walking in on something they shouldn't have. theories have sprung up that The Stanley Parable is actually meant to be more of a horror game beyond mere psychological play, but not everyone can agree on this. any of these reports sent back to the developer OR his accounts are met with radio silence or being told they're just screwing around.

things like that, you know! relatively " tame, " but not things that should be or happen. thierry can't make heads or tails of it either.

ah well.

[lea-andres]

Okay so @iamapoopmuffin I will try to really boil this down into layman's terms for ya but let me know if I lose you anywhere lmao. But here's my FNAF OC!

So... I'm the most fascinated by the FNAF series in its later years (2030s according to the timelines I was looking at last night), when it's got fucking pizzeria complexes and training simulator programs and it's after William and Henry are in charge of the company and alive(ish... you know what I mean) so at that point I imagine Fazbear Entertainment has a corporate board running it up at the top who are sure dedicated to finding the line between "the bare minimum" and "absolute jack shit" lmao.

So... it's no surprise Fazbear Entertainment is a fucking dangerous company to work for. Murders, Bites of varying years, malfunctioning animatronics, fruitshark has a series on mostly TikTok (some on YT too) where she finds all the OSHA violations... These guys suck lmao. Also there's been a long history of dismantling, setting on fire, and leaving animatronics to rot so... They're not happy either lmao. (And that's ignoring the ones that had corpses stuffed in them or the child souls possessing them, but we'll come back to child soul possession shortly)

So Fazbear Entertainment went "We totally hear you guys and all of your issues! Look, here's our new Human and Animatronics Resources manager! Take her issues to her, and she will do the best she can to solve them! :)"

Enter Lydia DuPont. I don't know where Fazbear Entertainment found her, but this stupid bitch (/aff) missed EVERYTHING. She knows nothing about Fazbear's history. The murders, the Bites, none of it. Combine that with the extremely limited budget FE gave her to work with, and... Lydia's trying to fix deep seeded psychological trauma with pizza parties and stickers. She MEANS well, she sure wants to help, but... Most of the employees and animatronics find her annoying and off putting lmao. They side eye her while she's running "wellness questionnaires" at best, worst case scenario they're fucking with her by bringing up the terrible things that have happened and watching her squirm with the knowledge she can't fix this with smiles and sparkles.

Lydia's only made progress with one person so far. Well, animatronic really: Helpy.

Ya know, this guy (skip to about :50 to watch Mark abuse the shit out of Helpy lmao):

So... Helpy is very puntable lmao. I could've sworn I saw SOMEWHERE that employees abuse Helpy on purpose for funnies. I can't find it now, but I do what I want lmao. Helpy's puntable, and doesn't like being puntable. Only Lydia is nice to him and uh... That's starting to turn into its own problem with Lydia. Helpy has declared Lydia his mother (we've seen lots of instances of animatronics latching onto kids in various manners, I think it'd be fun to explore the reverse and have one latch onto an adult), and is DEFINITELY too clingy with her. And Lydia is... encouraging the behavior. Probably too much. So NOW anytime you have a "wellness chat" with Lydia, Helpy's there too! STARING at you while Lydia holds him (he wanted uppies and gets upset when she puts him down lmao). So yeah, no one likes Lydia all that much. They want her to take her weird robot son and take a long walk into the trash compactor. 💕 (Also definitely no hurt feelings floating around regarding the child soul possessed animatronics watching Lydia baby fucking Helpy instead of like... any of the actual children lmao RIP)

@doomzday-zone helped me decide last night what horrors I wanted to subject Lydia to (because I wanted to but *gestures at FNAF* there's so many horrors to subject her to lmao). Vanny seems most appropriate considering FNAF timeline era AND *checks notes* maximum amounts of evil toxic yuri attainable. Anyway, so TL;DR Vanny thinks fucking with (in... multiple senses of the term 😏😉) the loser clueless hr manager would be really funny actually, but there's uh... Helpy sized elephant in the room preventing that. And it won't GO AWAY-

If I possessed the power to make a game of this (maybe I'll dust off the text adventure game maker someday)... it'd be a Tattletail/FNAF blend style of the Horrors™ are trying to separate Lydia and her Shit Son™ so Lydia can be subjected to the terrors. 💕

But yeah, that's Lydia DuPont. I love her, I love her awful relationship with Helpy, and I want her to experience the horrors.

[grapenehifics]

WIP Wednesday

Anakin and Ahsoka watch The Bachelor. Obi-Wan is A Dad.

“I’ve got the Mantell Mix!” Ahsoka crowed, skipping into the room. Then she pulled up short, wrinkled her nose, and looked down at the box in her hands. “Or as near as I could recreate in the galley, at least.”

“I’m sure it’s great,” Anakin said, but, then, Anakin had always had an appetite like a trash compactor.

“And what is Mantell Mix?” Obi-Wan asked, curious.

“It’s what we eat while we watch Looking for Love in Alderaan Places,” Anakin said, which explained absolutely nothing. “C'mere. Sit.” Anakin put himself in the center of the bench and patted the seats on either side of him. Ahsoka immediately plonked down on his right, set the carton of…small, round, purple confections on Anakin’s lap, and took a large handful for herself.

Anakin looked up from underneath his eyelashes at Obi-Wan, who still hadn’t moved. “What’s Looking for Love in Alderaan Places?” Obi-Wan asked, stalling for time.

Anakin shifted so that his hand was no longer splayed across the seat next to him, and instead draped his arm across the back of the seat. He arched one eyebrow invitingly, crooked his finger at Obi-Wan, and then glanced down at the bench and back up again. Ahsoka was totally absorbed in her snack and didn’t seem to have noticed.

“It’s a holodoc,” Ahsoka said, bits of food spraying out of her mouth as she spoke, at the same time Obi-Wan – rather gingerly – sat down next to Anakin. Anakin immediately wrapped his arm around Obi-Wan’s shoulders and pulled him both back, further into the seatback, and to the side, closer to Anakin.

“There’s new installments every week, but Skyguy and I are way behind,” Ahsoka was continuing to explain, as if Obi-Wan’s heart didn’t feel like it was about to beat out of his chest at just the mere suggestion of spending an hour tucked up neatly against the almost-suffocating heat of Anakin’s body. “When we’re apart on Zhelldays, I record them on my holopad and then we catch up next time we’re together.”

“I see,” Obi-Wan said carefully. “And this is meant to be…educational?”

Anakin snorted. “Kark, no. It’s total garbage. You’re going to hate it.”

“Oh.” Obi-Wan considered this. “Then why” –

“‘Cause it’s fun, and we like hanging out with you,” Ahsoka said. She shook the box on Anakin’s lap. “Try some.”

“You won’t like that, either,” Anakin warned, but Obi-Wan, now feeling a warmth in his heart that had less to do with Anakin’s chest muscles pressed up against his side than it had previously, reached out and took a few kernels.

“I thought you said this was meant to be a documentary,” he said, as the theme song started. It involved a pulsating graphic of a very un-anatomically correct heart, spinning madly in time to the music. The Mantell Mix was, as Anakin had warned, almost cloyingly sweet. Obi-Wan vowed not to eat any more. Anakin, with the hand that wasn’t draped across Obi-Wan’s shoulders, reached into the box and snagged himself a large quantity.

“Well…only sort of,” Ahsoka admitted, slipping off her boots and propping her feet up underneath her. “It’s only a holodoc in that it isn’t a holodrama. It’s not scripted.”

Anakin snorted again. “Like hell it isn’t. You think Cassus would have kept Talina around last year as long as he did if he wasn’t being forced to?”

“Talina won the fan-favorites poll.”

“Yeah, but only after she’d been eliminated in round six. Which was six rounds too long, in my opinion.”

“So it’s a competition? And the goal is to last as long as possible without being eliminated?” Obi-Wan said, still trying to catch up.

The theme song, such as it was, had ended, but Ahsoka paused the feed so she could answer Obi-Wan without missing any of the action. “Yeah. It’s a dating show.”

“What’s the prize?”

“Well, the network says it’s true love, but really it’s just the chance to fly to Alderaan and go on really expensive outings and be seen on a really popular holofeed,” Anakin scoffed.

Obi-Wan glanced up at him. “If you have such a negative opinion of it, why watch in the first place?”

“Ahsoka likes it,” Anakin said.

“Krayt spit,” Ahsoka shot back, though a mouthful of Mantell Mix. “You got me hooked, Skyguy. Don’t try to blame this on me.”

“Rex started it,” Anakin scowled, embarrassed to have been caught out in his lie. “Sometimes it’s kind of funny,” he admitted softly, staring at his lap.

Obi-Wan took pity on him and nuzzled just an inch or so closer. There was nothing wrong, after all, with blowing off a little steam in the middle of a war, or celebrating getting to spend an uninterrupted hour with someone you loved, no matter what shared activity you chose to do during that time.

Anakin sighed happily and turned his head to lay his cheek against Obi-Wan’s head. “You can press play, now, Snips,” he said. “Obi-Wan’ll figure out the plot as we go. It’s not like it’s complicated.”

“Last time we watched, Dav and Thrax were thinking about quitting the show so they could date each other,” Ahsoka said excitedly as she stretched one foot out and resumed playback of the holotape with her toe.

Obi-Wan was fast asleep not ten minutes later.

[the-furthest-city-light]

Writing Patterns Tag Game

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there’s a pattern!

I was tagged for this by @sciencemyfiction and it looks super fun! I am going to cheat a little bit tho and post only from my One Piece fics as I haven't published anything else since 2018 and I think the writing sample will be more representative of my current styl

Flotsam and Jetsam

"When Big Mom's crew arrives on Zou, Sanji's first thought is, Damn, we didn't fuck 'em up enough before?"

Here I am cheating AGAIN because this line is actually from chapter 2 of Flotsam and Jetsam, "Instead of the Cross, the Albatross," but IN MY DEFENSE it's the only chapter of that fic that was meant to be its own standalone fic. The rest of those chapters are just things I didn't want to consign forever to the desolation of my scrapped file.

2. Found in the Crack of Your Palm

"'Oi, Luffy,' Zoro calls.  He punctuates his bid for Luffy’s attention by toeing his hip with his heavy boot."

3. New Seas Ahead (chapter 1)

“Oh come on.  Please?”

4. spill your wine

"Zoro’s had a shower and a nap and three platefuls of food before the scent of his new captain really hits him."

5. Same Song, Different Verse

"The first time Zoro sees Monkey D. Lucy, the sky is a hard, clear blue and the earth is packed dense beneath his feet."

6. New Seas Ahead (chapter 28)

"How is she doing that though?”

“It’s a mystery, Usopp.”

“She’s like a human trash compactor…”

7. New Seas Ahead (chapter 27)

"The oniwabanshu should have an easier time following them in the snow, but they don’t see another attack after Hakumai."

8. New Seas Ahead (chapter 26)

"When he wakes up, Zoro’s surprisingly not feeling like complete shit."

9. New Seas Ahead (chapter 25)

"Tama turns out to be fine, which is a relief.  And she eats the oshiruko well when they convince her to actually accept it."

10. New Seas Ahead (chapter 24)

"Are we there yet?"

I was actually super nervous to do this because hooks and opening lines are not my strong suit as a writer. My thoughts about the above are pretty much what I already knew. I have a tendency to set the place of any given scene before anything else. It's present even at the start of fics/scenes where the lines aren't explicitly about the sense of place or setting, and I usually accomplish this by calling reference to some time or place that the reader, as a One Piece fan, will undoubtedly be very familiar with and will instantly be able to recall the wheres and whens of the given scene.

In part this is intentional because in the Fair Winds and Following seas series specifically I jump over or outright skip certain events and catching the reader up to where we are now as efficiently as possible is important. HOWEVER, I definitely have a tendency to over-rely on this strategy, which is something I'm definitely thinking about and considering as I've been writing some original fiction!

Alternatively, four of the above entries begin with outright dialogue which is, funnily enough, my least favorite way to start a scene. I usually do it for the sake of a joke and to set the tone and sometimes place which all of the above entries are with the exception of "Found in the Crack of Your Palm." Also Usopp is the one speaking in both 3 and 6. Probably because I try to include his dialogue wherever possible in Fair Winds because I struggle to insert him into the plot and he's good at setting a mood.

I do think the "best" of these opening lines are from "Same Song, Different Verse," and also "spill your wine." Both of them do the thing where I'm establishing place but they also manage to tie in some important sensory information which becomes thematic as their respective fics go on. Food for thought.

Thanks for tagging me, Dev! I'm tagging @faggotzoro, @acewithapaintbrush, @thricepiercedpirate, @thychesters and @zaharya!

[sio-writes]

Botanist's Guide - Chapter 13

< Chapter 12

<< Chapter 1

Summary: Cassandra Rowland, PhD, finally has the chance to work on an experiment that really matters: growing Earth crops on another planet. But too many overdue reports and marked failures have put her in hot water with the board, and this is her last chance at redemption. So when she finds herself railroaded by a seven foot tall, glowing alien named Kri, it won’t be as easy as sticking some seeds in the soil and running them under the tap. Tack on the looming repossession of her lab contingent on her success in Kri’s reports, and Cassie realizes she may have her work cut out for her.

"Here we lay to rest Emmie Rowland, loving family member, faithful friend, and one hell of a musician. One can only hope that her little electronic soul reaches that big headphone jack in the sky."

With that, I tip my palms down, releasing Emmie into the trash compactor. I cringe at the crunching sound of the steel blades, and watch solemnly as her bright silver case, now shredded to pieces, makes its way down the assembly line and towards the compactor. There, she'll be melted down at 400℃ and repurposed into a non load-bearing beam for the Archive Expansion project. Maybe some of the music will make its way there through osmosis and I'll have something to listen to in five years.

Beside me, Kri rests a heavy hand on my shoulder. "Is this headphone jack in the sky part of that heaven place you've mentioned?"

"Yeah," I sniff. "MP3 player heaven." I bump my chest with my fist and point to the ceiling. "She's rockin' with the angels now."

Kri follows my hand with his eyes like he can see through the ceiling. "Are there other electronic devices there as well?"

"It's not that deep, hun," Jillie says, patting Kri on the bicep. "Cass' just being dramatic."

I turn to them, choosing to ignore that last comment out of respect for Emmie, and blow a huge breath through my mouth. "Alright, time to work."

The funeral had been a pit stop on the way to the lab, a necessary one, but still out of the way. As we walk down the hallway and back towards the lab, I realize there's a lightness to my steps that hasn't been here since I landed. I'm excited, energized, I'm looking forward to the week ahead. The plants have been great, my mood has been lifted, and I feel like I could skip to the moon and back, and I think I know the main reason why.

I have a boyfriend now. Even thinking that to myself makes me want to giggle behind my hand. It's been years since I've been able to say that, and this bubbly feeling that wells up in my stomach like soda and pulls my attention to the alien at my side. I thought I was hyper-aware of his presence before, but now it feels like we're magnets, constantly circling but never touching, and the closer we get, that harder it is to pull away.

The weekend was a long enough time for the information to really set in, long enough for me to rope in Jillie over lunch and then stare at the ceiling without feeling guilt as I thought of Kri with my hand down my pants. Even seeing him this morning kick started something in my body, it wasn't purely sexual, although that was definitely part of it, but I just want to be near him. I want to sit in his lap and twirl my hair in my fingers as he feeds me grapes.

I start to reach for his hand as we get closer to the lab, but the sight of my mailbox outside my door has me nearly tripping over my own feet. Sitting in the plastic file-folder outside my door, is an envelope. It's standard paper, with a green seal on the back, with the simple swirling logo of the Outpost. I flip the envelope over and the logo is repeated on the return address, right above my printed name. It's my Milestone results.

"Fuck."

Jillie steps behind me and snorts. "What, door stuck again?"

I hold up the envelope, and her eyes go wide. "Shit."

The energy I felt before leaves me in a rush, replaced with anxiety and dread. The sunshine and rainbows I'd felt on the way over have turned into a thunderstorm.

I press my hand to the lock, trying to keep my shaking under control. We all step into the lab, and I make a beeline for my desk, collapsing into my chair before my legs give out.

I thrust the envelope into Jillie's hands. "You read it."

Jillie looks down at my hands, her own facing me and not taking the damn letter. She raises her eyebrows. "You want me to read it."

I pull my hand back and groan, my head falling to the desk with a thunk. "No! Yes. Maybe?" I groan again,  rolling my head back and forth.

Kri speaks up quietly, "Would you like me to leave?"

I wave him off with my free hand. "No, no, stay." If I don't open the letter, then I can't fail, right? No, they'll just come to repossess everything out of the blue one day. 

With a heaving sigh, I sit upright again, resting my elbows on the table, and open the envelope.

Salutations Dr. Cassandra Rowland,

On behalf of the Life Science and Biology Committee of XR239-7B, "Summanus," we want to thank you for your time, and commend you on your exemplary research in bringing a new form of sustainability to humanity's continuous efforts on our second home. Your proposal is just one of many that has been submitted to the board, requiring careful consideration in regards to funding and resource allocation. 

Given the circumstances surrounding this particular proposal, including but not limited to your formal audit, your punctuality, and past budget concerns, we regret to inform you that your proposal was not selected for continued funding. You are welcome to full use of the facilities until the end-use date in your rent agreement, however after this date the Scientific Committee will be reassigning your laboratory as well as greenhouse section #189-04, and your role as Lead Research Scientist will be terminated August 13th, 2085. Please note that this is not a termination of your residence at Outpost #3, however you are encouraged to seek other career opportunities at this time, but please note that if you are unemployed for a period exceeding 100 consecutive days following your termination, your residency will be put under review.

We want to thank you for all the work that you've done in expanding humanity's knowledge, and we hope you continue to push yourself in all that you do.

Sincerely,

The Scientific Community of Summanus

I read it again. And again. And again. I read it until the words blur out of focus, jumbled on the page and I'm not crying, but I feel the sting of tears through my nose that tells me they're on the way. I hand the letter to Jillie, noting the uptick of my pulse in my ears. I make a mental note to slow my breathing as a panic attack pushes at my ribcage. It’s not going to overshadow this.

Jillie pulls me out of the fog when she says, “Oh no, hun I’m so sorry."

This is the worst possible news I could've gotten. I've received the worst outcome. All my experiments, all the writing, the planting, the watering and the documenting, was all for nothing.

Above me, Jillie clicks her tongue on the roof of her mouth. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me! Just like that and it’s gone?! They didn’t even give us a warning!”

“I think Kri was the warning,” I gesture with my head to Kri, and Jillie whirls on him.

“Your stupid report got us fired!”

Kri straightens, shoulders set back. “I wrote quite favorably, as a matter of fact.”

Jillie scoffs. “Right, is that why you gave Cass all those corrections?”

“In the beginning, yes, but it was unnecessary after the first several weeks. I can provide you with the report if—“

“Screw you!” Jillie snaps. “Because of you, we lost—“

“Jill, calm down,” I say as I rub my temples. Her yelling isn’t helping, the only thing it’s doing is ramping up my anxiety like a pressure gauge. But strangely enough, I’m still calm, physically. No panic, no rapid heartbeat, no heavy breathing. Only a crystal clear view of my next steps. 

The plants need to be relocated, and I need to clear out the lab as well as the greenhouse, which includes sorting the plants in there too, otherwise the cleaning crew will toss everything in the garbage. I need to clean the lab and register all the equipment back to the department, and make a record of what was done and add it to the Archive.

“It’s not his fault,” I continue. “It’s mine.” Saying it out loud feels like a blow to the chest, and my next inhale is shaky, but I can’t cry now, I have shit to do.

“It’s not you, hun,” Jillie says. She rounds my desk and wraps her arms over my shoulders. “It’s the stupid board that didn’t give you enough time.”

I want to argue, to clarify that it was my shoddy experiments that landed me the audit in the first place, but instead I hug her back the best I can, and she squeezes me harder than she did on launch day. It feels like permission to be emotional, but I tamp it down. Breaking down won’t solve anything.

Kri steps around the other side of my desk and rests a hand on my shoulder, rubbing his thumb back and forth. I could use one of his stellar hugs, but I think if he did I’d definitely burst into tears. I rest my hand over his, and he stacks another hand on top of mine, sandwiching my palm in warmth.

After a long, quiet moment, I say, “We need to move the plants.”

Jillie huffs, her breath ghosting over my face. "You need to take the day off."

I huff back. "If I take the day off, I'm not going to get anything done."

"That's kind of the point of taking the day," she says. She rubs my back for emphasis, then stands upright again. She examines my face, but I hold firm. If I go home now, I'm going to fall into a bottle of tequila for sure, and then the both of them would worry about me, which in turn would make me feel even worse. 

I have my list of things to do, and if I wait any longer to get them done, I’m going to turn into sludge, melting so bad I can’t lift a finger to help. So what I need now is a sufficient distraction until the gravity of this news hits me like a truck, and then I can go home and have my breakdown in peace. It's a far from perfect system, but it's the only one where I come out feeling like a person instead of a burden, maintaining some form of control over the situation that's taking everything away from me.

I take a deep breath through my nose. If I put on a smile it will set off alarm bells, so I school my face into something neutral. "I'm not gonna lie, I feel like shit. But getting things sorted before I'm too depressed to function will ease my conscience."

Jillie purses her lips, unconvinced, and her gaze slides to Kri for validation. I can't see his face, but he gently squeezes my shoulder again and silently communicates something to Jillie that has her nodding.

"Let's grab the greenhouse first."

***

I don't acknowledge that this could be my last trip to the greenhouse, I don't even think it. We're just here to grab the plants and then go. I'll be back, eventually.

It hasn't quite hit yet, the decision to boot me. It sits heavy in the back of my mind, ready to spill over at any minute. I feel like I'm mitigating a breakdown that might never come, watching a pot that will never boil. 

It leaves me quietly simmering away, with thoughts rising to the surface just long enough to make itself known before sinking back down. 

The walk outside feels surreal. The weather is clear, the Summanian-Sun high in the sky and there's foot traffic that comes with the high-population scientific Outpost. The more people we pass, the more I feel like everyone knows. They know I failed, they know I’m on my way to cleaning out the greenhouse, they know and they’re judging my every step. And I know it’s dumb, I know it’s irrational, but I’m still anxious.

Jillie pulls me aside and ropes her arm through mine. "I called for help, I hope you don't mind."

"As long as it's not Stephen," I say, focused entirely on how my hands are clenched in my jeans pockets. Is it too much, or are my fists making weird shapes? It’s the only thing I can focus on without wanting to scream.

I can hear Stephen’s stupid tsk! in the back of my mind now. The one he makes whenever something isn’t up to par, like my outfit, or our sex, or this review. I half expect him to waltz up right now, bragging about the thousands of dollars he just racked up for his next experiment. Shaking my head only blurs the image, as opposed to falling away like I'd wanted it to. That tsk reverberates in my head again, punctuating my brain like a skipping stone along the water.

“Cass, are you sure you’re alright?” Jillie asks for the third time since we left the lab. 

Each time she asks it’s another blow to the fortified wall I’ve put up, and I wish she’d stop asking because if she does, I may collapse. It's time to be a robot. Beep bop boop. I take a deep breath through my nose, holding at the top, and breathing out. “I’ll be okay.”

“That…doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Nor I,” Kri mutters behind us.

“I’ve already told you,” I steamroll forward. “You can both coddle me after we get something done.”

"I guess distractions are how some people cope too," Jillie mutters. 

It's a small blessing that the greenhouse doors open when I scan my palm. My section hasn't been ransacked or destroyed. Everything is exactly how I left it. 

The easiest to decide on are the non-starters, the seeds that never made it out of the ground. We only need to empty the dirt into a basket meant for the compost pile and throw the containers into a separate pile for recycling. I want to take notes on which sections never made it - the green beans and snap peas, and none of the lettuce even germinated. But there's no point now. 

We set to sorting through what is and isn’t viable. Individually counting, inspecting, and deciding the fate of over two-hundred planters takes the better part of two hours, and I feel a grim sense of accomplishment at the growing pile of plastic containers to my left.

Halfway through a pallet of strawberries, there's another presence at the door. I'm turned to the side when they walk in, and my stomach drops because for a split second I think it's Stephen. 

To my surprise, though, is an ento I recognize from a few months ago. Ari, their name is, Kri's friend. 

I exchange a confused glance with Kri as Jillie greets Ari at the door. This raises so many questions, namely, how Jillie knows them. Did they meet after Kri showed me their lab, or is it some cosmic coincidence? 

Kri shrugs all four of his arms, and I mirror the gesture with mine.

Ari greets us with a wave. "I hope I'm not intruding. I was called for help?" 

Kri defaults to me with a glance, and Ari follows his gaze. I simultaneously appreciate that he didn't answer for me, and anxious that I'm now expected to respond. Four is too many, this is a two person job at most. But I couldn't turn away Jillie or Kri, I needed them here. 

Ari doesn't seem offended at my pause, their expression is open and their posture relaxed. I offer them a small smile. "You're fine, we're just cleaning house." 

They nod, and step over to Jillie to continue packing the equipment. 

After another hour, we’re left with about two-dozen sprouts that may or may not survive, but it doesn’t matter because I don’t have the space to keep them. I’d planned on keeping the original few from the first growth, but I have yet to get them back from the board, and now I doubt that I’ll ever see them again. Dr. Rogan probably already threw them in the garbage.

I would’ve planted them, if I had physical land, that was supposed to be the next step. But now I don’t know what’s next. No path forward, no clear image to obtain, and I need a purpose again. Surviving is the name of the game now, and it’s boring as hell. It was my one chance, and if I don’t hold my own weight, I could get sent back to Earth.

Next is the sprouts, the ones that may or may not make it. I inspect each one, looking for dried-up soil, brown spots, or anything that could kill it. I keep the ones that show promise, and I empty the rest with a neutral face and toss the plastic container onto the stack. 

It takes another hour for thoughts to start appearing through the fog, and another longing stare at the bag of dirt and plant matter for that thought to hit me like a truck. 

I don’t want to be here anymore. 

I thought I could handle it, but the longer I push things down, the more they want to bubble up again. Every third breath I’m shaking on the exhale, sniffing back tears that sting at my eyes. This really fucking sucks.

Kri is still aiding me, bringing over palettes and sitting by my side, but Jillie and Ari have parked their butts over by the computer setup, and are speaking to each other in low voices punctuated with the occasional concerned glance.

A muscle in my jaw twitches. I don’t need this much help, I should be doing this on my own. There’s too many people already. I miss my music, I miss my plants, I want to drown them all out. My heart wants to race, I can feel my lungs rearing up to hyperventilate. 

And then a warm hand covers mine, and I look down and watch as Kri gently removes the planter from my grip, and presses my hand between his. His fingers slot easily between mine, first, middle, and last, and they squeeze, a reassurance. But I can’t meet his eyes, no matter how much I want to. So we sit there for a moment, and I stare at our hands and focus on the warmth instead of the crushing weight of my own disappointment.

Jillie was right, I should've taken the day off. Yet again I've pushed myself too far, and now my brain is doing even worse than it was this morning. There's still so much to do, even in the greenhouse, and I don't want to do any of it. I just want to curl into a ball and cry.

At the end of the day, we’re left with twenty-seven planters, all supporting sprouts or developing stalks. Normally, this would have me over the moon, but I'm only filled with a sense of dread. I can’t take all these home. I barely have space for my plants now, I can’t add anything else. Jillie can take a few, but I can't ask Kri or Ari to take them, it's not their problem.

I'm staring at what are effectively my children with a look of dismay as Kri steps away from me. They speak in hushed tones that I can't make out-- they're speaking Universal anyway-- when Ari clears their throat, drawing my attention

"I have a house a few kleksry-ehco of here, uh--" Ari fumbles with the words, waving a free hand when they some up short, and points towards the back of the greenhouse. "It's that way, in the forest. There's plenty of space."

"I couldn't ask you to take care of all of these," I say with dismay.

"The building is close to a lake," Kri adds. "Ari would have to genuinely attempt to kill them."

"Asxu is correct. I do not have the right thumbs."

Jillie snorts. "You mean a green thumb?"

"Is my thumb not green already?"

Jillie explains the concept to both Ari and Kri and they listen with rapt fascination, like kids at story time. Apparently their literature on our languages lacked a lot of common sayings and left them on their own. They have their own too, but many of them don't translate well. It's led to straight-forward conversations with us where they assume to take everything we say literally.

Ari explains all this after Jillie finishes her lecture, and it suddenly clicks as to why Kri has trouble with phrasing sometimes. Would he want me to be more straight-forward? I do say a lot of things off-hand, and Mom grew up in the 'hood so some of the words may come through weird without me realizing.

What else have I been lacking? What else have I not noticed because I was too focused on myself? I was so wrapped up in my own shit I didn't even realize Kri had feelings for me, so what else did I miss? I haven't been taking care of him-- I should've been more present. Maybe then I would've realized that this was coming.

Before I realize it, and Kri is standing in front of me, hands on my shoulders. "You haven't blinked in at least a minute. Are you alright?"

I huff, annoyed. “Peachy.” 

Kri doesn't pick up on the sarcasm, and his head falls to one side. "You do not look well."

"Nevermind," I say, wrenching my shoulders from his grip and spinning around to start towards the piles of papers on my countertop.

The rest of the day is spent cleaning my mess in the greenhouse. Everytime I think we're done and I'm ready to leave, another box makes itself known and I'm forced to spend energy that I don't have fighting off tears. 

But, gradually, everything gets done, and we clear out my station piece by piece. There's at least ten garbage bags full of papers and plant matter and dirt that need to be taken to the compost heap. Jillie and I take two each, and Ari and Kri grab the rest. I let the three of them walk ahead of me. I take one last look at the greenhouse and the empty space I'd carved out for myself over the course of two years, and then the door slides shut.

Kri hovers next to me as we trudge our way to the compost building, and he only asks how I'm doing once, but part of me wishes he'd leave me alone. I'm hollowed out, running on empty. I don't want to talk anymore, don't want to pretend to be something I'm not.

I watch the bags holding my planters run down the conveyor belt and into the black hole that is the compost chute. No one bothers me as I continue to stand there long after they're gone, and I distantly remember this morning when I threw Emmie into the recycling machinery. It feels so long ago, before I had the weight of having nothing to look forward to on my shoulders.

Kri's hand on my shoulder pulls me out of the fog. "If you are not too upset, I'd like for you to stay with me tonight."

At my unimpressed expression, he holds his palms up. "I don't mean it suggestively. I only want to be sure of your well-being."

Down the path, Jillie is already on the way back to the Life Sciences building with Ari. She's talking with her hands, which means she's excited about something, and I distantly wonder how long they're known each other.

"Kri, really, I'll be okay--"

"Cassie," he says, voice gentle yet firm, drawing my attention back to him. A command instead of a statement. "Please let me take care of you."

His expression is open, earnest, and I automatically I open my mouth to retort, but then I realize I would absolutely love not having to worry about anything else for the night, and my anxiety spikes. He shouldn't have to deal with me while I'm upset, I should be able to handle it on my own. Still, I ask, "Are you sure?"

Kri nods once, not an ounce of hesitation, and my decision is made for me. Somehow, that's easier to swallow than if I had asked. "I believe it would be best if you stayed with me."

"Probably," I say, and I mean it. Something about waking up in my own bed feels worse.

After another moment where I test his patience, I nod, and we walk away from the greenhouse and towards a future that I have no idea how to prepare for.

Chapter 14>>

[mechanicalowls]

Want Me To

a terrornoss fic inspired by my possibly in michigan animatic

chapter 4 - it hits the fan

rating: m (for graphic violence, language, and shadow man evan is a warning in and of himself, also the next couple chapters are about possession so just a heads up)

chapter under the cut:

Brian dug his nails into the steering wheel, leaving little indents in the rubber. He was at the mall again the next day, just like the shadow man commanded. He'd taken initiative and came here earlier, allowing himself more time before nightfall. As much as he feared for his safety, he found he couldn't morally skip coming here every day.

Despite the shadow man all but showing his hand in causing the sickness Brian suffered from missing being here at least once a day, Brian found himself almost eager to come back every day. It was addicting, like a drug, and the sickness he suffered from not getting his hit was withdrawal. Plain and simple, this place made his life more interesting, life threatening or not.

He'd called into work specifically to come to the mall early today. But now that he was here, he felt sick.

Another car was in the lot.

A familiar one.

He'd been followed by one of those groups of “professional” urban explorers enough to recognize their leader's expensive-looking raised truck. A bitter taste permeated Brian's mouth at the sight of it. The mall was in no way a place he'd call a safe haven, but he felt as though his territory was being encroached upon.

Those snooty, sorry excuses of vloggers had no respect for the places they explored. They'd come in, wreak havoc, destroy something, do a dumb skit, and leave with complete disregard for the damage they'd done. 

And now they were more than likely doing the same to the mall.

The bruise on his chest throbbed painfully.

The shadow man.

What was he going to do with these intruders?

Brian.

Maybe he could read his mind.

Brian, park in the back. Come through a back door.

Brian gulped, but did as he was told. He feared what would happen if he didn’t.

He parked his car next to an old dumpster, closer to the building than what would’ve probably normally been allowed. Upon spying a back door that didn’t appear to be locked (he was sure the shadow man would unlock it for him even if it was), he opened the metallic door slowly so as to not make any noise. He didn't want the wannabes to know he was here, and this place echoed.

Alot.

Some dim overhead lights buzzed at Brian as he gazed over his surroundings. He was in a warehouse of sorts. Dozens of unopened cardboard boxes were stacked all around rows of tables. Much like the rest of the mall, the room teemed with signs of life. There were work gloves, box cutters, and scissors discarded on the tables, like they had been set down while an employee took a break. Some of the tables even had opened bottles of water and soda.

There were bits of styrofoam and used packing tape littering the floor. A stack of empty cardboard boxes stood idle next to a trash compactor. Brian could feel the breeze from outside through the opening. He shivered, but not from the chilly fall air.

He could feel the shadow man's aura radiating off of him. He could feel his presence. 

He could feel the figure’s emotions.

And he was livid.

He trembled at the feeling. The shadow man scared him enough when Brian merely said or did something he didn't like. Even if he wasn't truly frightened of the figure cloaked in darkness, just as he had told him; the being still unnerved him. What would he be like when he was well and truly enraged?

Scurrying through the buzzing back room, Brian emerged in the office of some clothing store he couldn't name. It was small and cramped, barely able to fit the desk and a filing cabinet. As he reached for the knob, Brian found it would not twist. He wrenched it with all his might but the damn thing just refused to open.

Trapped.

He was trapped.

Or so he thought.

Brian fell silent as he strained his ears to listen through the door. A voice, many voices. All grating on the ears as they loudly commentated over the dated clothing they filmed. He couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but he heard lots of laughter, and lots of smashing.

They were fucking wrecking the place, just as he feared.

Brian yanked at the knob again, desperate to get out there and give them a piece of his mind. It remained motionless, his reflection in the worn brass was smudged with his fingerprints.

Suddenly, Brian was ripped backwards by the hood of his sweatshirt and slammed against a wall. He knocked his head hard, and he almost slumped over before he was pressed against the wall by a wispy black talon. A growl, not dissimilar to a bear's, curled around his head. He almost howled at the pain in his chest before the talon closed over his mouth. 

The shadow man scowled at him, dead in the eye. His features were more pronounced now that they were up close and personal, despite still (somehow) being cloaked in a shadow . He could see the shape of the being's head, his shoulder length hair that kept it's shape somehow. His nose was wrinkled in disgust. His brow was furrowed so deeply that Brian wasn't sure he'd ever be able to emote properly ever again. His other hand clutched the collar of his sweatshirt, pressing him up against the wall with his forearm. 

Yup. Livid.

Who are these people? The shadow man snarled. Brian winced at his tone.

I save your fucking life and this is how you repay me? By bringing these insufferable little brats into this fucking place? Intruding upon my home? Of course. I should've known I was making a mistake letting you live.

Brian furrowed his own brow and bit the inky black palm over his lips. The figure hissed and pulled his hand back, snarling at him again.

“I didn't bring these fockers here, dickhead! I hate them just as much as you do!” Brian whisper-yelled. He grasped the shadowy forearm that was so close to choking him, clawing at it to pull it away. The shadow man sneered.

Of course not. Of course these roaches suddenly discover this place out of nowhere after something interesting happens to you. How stupid do you think I am, Brian?

“I swear on me mother's life I didn't bring them here! They've been following me ever since I started doing urban exploration!” Brian all but howled. The shadow man growled again.

They've what?

The arm on his chest loosened. Brian inhaled deeply, relaxing his shoulders. The shadow man continued to stare into his soul. Brian swallowed.

“I've been explorin’ abandoned places for months. Saw some videos and wanted to do it for myself. Kept runnin’ into these guys and another group. Figured they were followin’ me.” Brian explained.

“They do this to all the places they go to. Completely wreck the place, record some stupid scripted shit, then get the fuck outta dodge.” Brian relayed, crossing his arms in distaste. The shadow man growled and turned to the door, glaring heavily at it.

They're destroying the mall. He grumbled. Brian sighed.

“That's what they do, man. We can try and scare them out. I don't know how well that'll work, but it's better than nothin’.” A rumble emitted from the shadow man at that. He faded into nothingness, leaving Brian alone in the office. He cursed.

But the door inched open in his wake.

Peering through the crack, Brian saw the destroyed clothing store. Racks were tipped over, shirts and pants alike were strewn about the floor. The registers were opened and looted, and one of the windows was completely smashed. Brian felt a twitch in his eye. The wannabes were just outside the entrance of the department store, giving over exaggerated tellings of the state of disrepair the mall was in. Brian growled.

But it didn't sound right. 

Brian blinked, and felt nauseous instantaneously. He looked down at his hands. They raised to meet his gaze, but he didn't raise them. He raised his right leg, then his left. He flexed his fingers, then rolled his neck. Despite the mall still being heated and cooled accordingly, a frigid chill suddenly overtook his body. It felt as though he had broken into a cold sweat. His limbs were moving of their own accord, still flexing and relaxing. Like he was trying to get a feel of his own appendages.

He felt like he was in the backseat of his own body.

Just relax, Bri. I'm just going to borrow you for a minute~ Came a sickly sweet voice, echoing in his head.

Oh fuck.

He watched from the sidelines of his own head as the shadow man pulled his hood up, messing his hair up more than it already was. He flexed Brian's fingers a couple more times, exhaling hard and grinning wickedly.

Brian was fucked.

“What the fuck are ya doin’?!” Brian cried inside his own head. He heard a chuckle that wasn't his own tumble from his lips.

I told you, I'm just borrowing you for a minute. I'm taking care of my problem. Of your problem. The least you can do is lend me your physicality. The shadow man purred. 

Brian felt sick.

He could only stare in abject horror as the shadow man, masquerading as a loser irishman, stalked towards the wannabes. One of the girls saw him approaching in her selfie camera, and whipped around to scold him. The others turned towards him too. They all began berating him for ruining their shot, for taking their space.

One of the big dudes shoved him. The shadow man possessing Brian stumbled back, his eye twitching. Brian gulped.

I'd recommend looking away if you're squeamish, Bri. The somehow oddly comforting voice of the shadow man posited inside his head.

Brian couldn't tear his eyes away, both in shock and morbid fascination.

He watched himself sock the man straight in the nose. He heard the loud crunch of cartilage and skull breaking. He heard the horrified screams and startled yells of the rest of the wannabes. He felt the cascading blood coat his hand. He shuddered at the realization that his fist didn't stop when it connected with the man's nose.

It kept pressing forward, breaking skin and skull alike. He almost hurled from the feeling of flesh and blood squishing around his hand. His hand emerged from the other side of the man's head, completely coated in blood and bits of brain matter.

The wannabes screamed. Brian gagged. The shadow man grinned.

Pulling his hand free, the shadow man turned to the rest of the group, his teeth bared, like a snarling dog. Loud gurgling and a heavy thump signified the death of the man behind him. Brian felt faint as the wannabes took off down the corridor, scattering every which way.

They won't get very far, Bri, don't you worry. The shadow man spouted, almost cheerfully. Brian was terrified, but he couldn't bring himself to look away. As he strode past, the shadow man paused at the discarded video equipment. He looked down at the fallen camera in fascination.

“Destroy it.” Brian whispered to him out of nowhere. His own demand startled him. He just witnessed himself murder a man in cold blood with one singular punch, and he was helping the culprit cover it up.

What in the fuck was happening to him?

Great minds think alike.

The shadow man stomped on the camera hard, doing the same to the rest of the equipment. He trodded over the debris as he made their way down the corridor, following the trail of the wannabes.

~~~~~

[whobuysconstructionequipment02]

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[owlixx]

Mega Man X6 Thoughts

Wow! It's the first one I refuse to beat!

Gotto the first Secret Lab stage only to find out that I need either the shadow armor or Jump upgrade

I even think there is another jump like this later

That is bad game design (:

I could replay the one stage to get the Jumper part, but I think even that might ironically require the shadow armor which would make me replay 3 stages

Sooo, not doing it

Especially not after the ice level and trash compactor level almost made me lose my sanity

I've only been able to do the xbox versions of these games with easy mode that disables instakill, only for X6 to throw a bunch back in

Or even worse, the way you can get soft locked like in the ice level

I actually was kind of enjoying the part system, except that all the parts I found were all the lame ones

..and the fact that it encouraged me to basically never switch characters

I did enjoy having nice armor from the start and auto shoot/charge

The weapons and mavericks were just okay in this one

The plot is absolute nonsense to me

I hate the long winded maverick intro and Alia's comments on them at the end of the stage

I appreciate at least that you can choose to not pick up the phone when Alia calls every .2 seconds

The charge shot on the Falcon Armor is so much less cool in this game than the charge shot on the Fourth Armor in X5

I do actually really like the branching paths and optional bosses, including the option to skip a good chunk of the mavericks

So far, easily my least favorite home console Mega Man

This would only edge out against some of the handheld titles

God this game has way too much boring, poorly translated text to read, even worse than X5 in that regard. I'll take the bad voice acting any day

It is of course hilarious how little they attempt to explain Zero's reappearance

Personally, I think I'm going to consider X6-8 a separate timeline from Zero-ZX in my head

I hated the stupid High Max fight where you have to hit him with a charged mega buster and then a special weapon. I think the game has never required hot swapping before

I can't believe Dynamo returned, my least favorite character

I did appreciate that I managed to luck into the canon storyline of X5 during my playthrough of it by total chance

Onto Zero 1! Crazy that it released just the next year

[poemarsviner]

Research [Walk Cycles]

Walk cycles are a make or break of a character in animated media. It shows their stature, how they present themself, how they control their body and any physical quirks they may have like a limp or a tendency to stumble. It's also the hardest thing to get right, considering the way weight shifts as you walk. But when you get it right, especially for a fictional species like a two legged werewolf running on all fours or an animal with six legs, it sells the animation as real. Below are some of my favourite walkcycles from video games I know. Michael Afton [Five Nights at Freddys: Sister Location]

In this video, it shows various cutscenes of Michael Afton leaving his home and walking down the street as he greets his neighbours. But what his neighbours don't know is that he's actually being controlled from the inside by a robot. Through the cutscenes you can see him slowly rotting and in the final cutscene his walking style changes to a less human look as he's hunched over, clearly a corpse and barely able to walk as he takes each step like he's pushing himself along. I like this one because it shows his physical form changing over the course of the cutscenes, and then at the end the toll is too great as his walking is now affected by the lack of innards he has.

Hillbilly [Dead by Daylight]

[The specific timestamp of his walking is 0:16]

In this video you can see the Hillbilly walking past a survivor. He is a Killer in the game Dead by Daylight and he carries a large hammer and uses a chainsaw for speed and lethality. In his backstory he was shunned for his physical appearance and locked in a basement, before breaking himself free after years and going on a murderous rampage. In his walkcycle, you can see how he's not exactly 'human' as he almost skips with each step as he's leaning over heavily. While his walkcycle isn't the most complex, it's still one of the more interesting ones of Dead by Daylight and I think it fits him well to have a stumbling style walkcycle.

Shattered Glamrock Chica [Five Night's at Freddys: Security Breach]

In this youtube short you can see a small period of her walking. After being crushed by a trash compactor and stumbling through the sewers, Glamrock Chica is..well, shattered. She stumbles around like she's not in full control of her momentum or weight and she overall seems very frantic.

In this youtube short, before the jumpscare you can see Glamrock Chica running towards the player. I like how she has a different running animation to her walking one and it really shows how frantic she is with her flailing arms, like she's trying to swim through the air to get closer to you. I think Glamrock Chica has one of the more interesting evolutions in terms of animations through Security Breach and I really like her Shattered animations. Honourable Mentions: Reinhardt in Overwatch. His clunking armour really feels heavy as you watch him walk and when his shield is active, it feels like a real weight as he can barely move when holding it up. Sims 4 Walking animations. They all feel unique and while it's rare I actually use one, they all have different vibes and definitely fit certain sims well. The Tank from Left 4 Dead. You can tell the Tank is a powerful mutation just from his design, but his walk makes him way more intimidating. He runs like a gorilla and while he's slow, he's very good at soaking bullets and he's pretty agile in where he can climb. Mr X [Tyrant] from Resident Evil 2 Remake (and the original). While he can be slow, Mr X is no one to underestimate. His walk is powerful as you can hear him stomping through floors throughout RPD and the sound alone can strike fear into even the most veteran of players.

[whobuysusedheavyequipment]

Buy Your Equipment buys all sorts of equipment, such as backhoes, bulldozers, compactors, excavators, track hoes, telehandlers, forklifts, cranes, motor graders, air compressors, crawlers, loaders, drills, forestry equipment, oilfield equipment, off-highway trucks, scrapers, skid steers, skip loaders, wheel loaders, dump trucks, tractors, trailers, and much more. Whether you have one or five hundred pieces, Buy Your Equipment is always here to help. We buy heavy equipment daily. Give us a call at 945-400-6965 or visit https://buyyourequipment.com/.

[fieldequipment]

Buy Your Equipment buys all sorts of equipment, such as backhoes, bulldozers, compactors, excavators, track hoes, telehandlers, forklifts, cranes, motor graders, air compressors, crawlers, loaders, drills, forestry equipment, oilfield equipment, off-highway trucks, scrapers, skid steers, skip loaders, wheel loaders, dump trucks, tractors, trailers, and much more. Whether you have one or five hundred pieces, Buy Your Equipment is always here to help. We buy heavy equipment daily. Give us a call at 945-400-6965 or visit https://buyyourequipment.com/.

[buyyourequipment22]

There are many different types of equipment that Buy Your Equipment buys, including backhoes, bulldozers, compactors, excavators, track hoes, telehandlers, forklifts, cranes, motor graders, air compressors, crawlers, loaders, drills, forestry equipment, oilfield equipment, off-highway trucks, scrapers, skid steer, skip loaders, wheel loaders, dump trucks, tractors, trailers, and much more. Whether you need assistance with one item or 500, Buy Your Equipment is always available. Every day, we buy heavy equipment. Dial 945-400-6965 or go to buyyourequipment.com to contact us.

[darhallinks]

Expert Tips from a Concrete Flooring Contractor in Idaho Falls

Concrete flooring has become an increasingly popular choice for homeowners, DIY enthusiasts, and interior designers. Its durability, versatility, and aesthetic appeal make it an excellent option for various spaces, from garages to living rooms. But achieving the perfect concrete floor requires expertise, and who better to provide that than a seasoned concrete flooring contractor in Idaho Falls? Here are some expert tips to help you get started.

Proper Site Preparation

One of the key elements of a successful concrete floor is proper site preparation. This step is crucial for ensuring the longevity and quality of your concrete floor.

Why is Site Preparation Important?

Proper site preparation sets the foundation for a durable concrete floor. Neglecting this step can lead to issues like cracking, uneven surfaces, and poor drainage.

Tips for Proper Site Preparation

Clear the Area: Remove any debris, plants, or old concrete from the site.

Level the Ground: Use a shovel or a mechanical grader to level the ground. Uneven ground can result in an uneven concrete surface.

Compact the Soil: Compact the soil to ensure stability. You can use a hand tamper or a plate compactor for this task.

Install a Gravel Base: Lay down a layer of gravel to improve drainage and provide a stable base for the concrete.

Choosing the Right Type of Concrete

Not all concrete is created equal. Different types of concrete are suited for different projects.

Types of Concrete and Their Uses

Standard Concrete: Ideal for most residential flooring projects.

High-Strength Concrete: Best for heavy-duty areas like driveways and industrial floors.

Stamped Concrete: Perfect for decorative purposes, offering a range of patterns and textures.

Polished Concrete: Provides a sleek, shiny finish suitable for modern interiors.

Choosing the Right Concrete for Your Project

Consider the specific needs of your project. For example, if you're installing a concrete floor in your garage, high-strength concrete might be the best option due to its durability.

Understanding Concrete Sealers

Concrete sealers play a vital role in maintaining the longevity of your floors. They protect the concrete from stains, moisture, and wear and tear.

Importance of Sealers

Sealers act as a protective barrier, preventing water, oil, and other contaminants from penetrating the concrete. They also enhance the appearance of your floors by adding a glossy or matte finish.

Types of Concrete Sealers

Acrylic Sealers: Quick-drying and easy to apply, suitable for indoor and outdoor use.

Epoxy Sealers: Highly durable, ideal for high-traffic areas.

Polyurethane Sealers: Offer excellent protection but require more time to apply and cure.

Achieving a Smooth and Level Finish

A smooth, level finish is essential for both the appearance and functionality of your concrete floor.

Step-by-Step Guidance

Pour the Concrete: Ensure an even pour to avoid air pockets.

Screed the Surface: Use a screed board to level the concrete.

Float the Surface: Use a bull float to smooth the surface and push down any aggregate.

Trowel the Surface: For a polished finish, use a steel trowel.

Cure the Concrete: Cover the concrete with a curing compound to retain moisture and prevent cracking.

Common Mistakes to Avoid

Pouring too much concrete at once.

Not using a level to check the surface.

Skipping the curing process.

Incorporating Decorative Elements

Concrete floors don't have to be plain and boring. Adding decorative elements can enhance their aesthetic appeal.

Ideas for Decorative Elements

Staining: Adds color to your concrete floor.

Stamping: Creates patterns and textures that mimic natural stone or tile.

Scoring: Involves cutting shallow lines to create geometric designs.

Inlays: Embedding materials like tiles or stones into the concrete.

When to Incorporate Decorative Elements

The best time to add decorative elements is during the initial pouring and finishing stages. This ensures they are well-integrated into the concrete.

Conclusion

Creating the perfect concrete floor involves several steps, from proper site preparation to choosing the right type of concrete and incorporating decorative elements. Each step plays a crucial role in ensuring the durability, functionality, and aesthetic appeal of your floor. By following these expert tips from a concrete flooring contractor in Idaho Falls, you can achieve a beautiful and long-lasting concrete floor.

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