#Studio Condo Unit

[thatsagood0nebutitstaken]

unit floor plans.

ArchDes plate/

[investcebu]

2BR CONDO LAHUG CEBU CITY OVERLOOKING VIEWS

[realtyhubph-blog]

800 sqm Beach House San Antonio, Zambales

Live the beach life in this stunning 800 sqm resort-style property in Pundaquit, Zambales! 4 structures, double garage, pool provision, & breathtaking views! Just a short walk to the beach. Perfect for families or investors. DM for details! #JMListings

📍 Pundaquit San Antonio Zambales Philippines FEATURES TYPE: Resort Style Beach House📐 Lot: 800 square meters✅ 4 Structures✅ Near beachfront🏢 1st Structure | 🅿️ Double Garage🏢 2nd Structure | Bungalow – 🛌 2 Beds, 🛀 2 Baths🏢 3rd Structure | Villa – 🛌 2 Beds, 🛀 3 Baths, 2-story🏢 4th Structure | Outdoor Kitchen/Cooking Area SPECIFICATIONS Double Garage✅ Complete with dual zone motorized aluminum…

[ceburealestate88]

WEST JONES CONDO JONES AVE. CEBU CITY NEAR USC, CIM, VELEZ

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Today must be bargain day. I have low-priced gems to show you. Now, this one is a cheap studio condo in a high rise in Chicago, IL for only $160k + $488mo. HOA. How can you go wrong? It's a 1962 cool, round, mid-century modern building and the unit still has the original pink retro kitchen, which I wouldn't change.

The hall is typically mid-century modern.

It's a one-room studio, but the kitchen is separate, which is nice. It needs some new flooring and bright paint, but look at the wall of windows and that huge terrace.

Love this.

Small hallway going thru to the kitchen and main area.

The kitchen even has the original pink stove.

It's cute. I think that I would redo it, though. Still in pink, but it needs a refresh.

It has a closet/pantry.

It looks like the sink is a separate room with a closet.

And, then the toilet and tub are in here. I like the color of the tub.

Downstairs, there's a store. Is that wine I see?

This is cool- a place to keep a bike and a storage unit.

I wouldn't hesitate to buy this.

Looks like parking.

Chicago skyline.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/300-N-State-St-APT-4625-Chicago-IL-60654/3863786_zpid/

[purpleyellow]

house hunting

nct dream 8th member - bee

masterlist

“the dorm days are over”

a/n: Feel free to share your thoughts with me💛 Requests are open for Bee and Hayun!

Living in the dorms was such a constant part of Bee’s life. It didn’t matter if they had back-to-back comebacks, solo activities, or even if the unit was on break, they always had a home to return to. Especially as someone who needed her own space, Bee had the room she had turned into her own little safe space over time, and she was not ready to say goodbye.

When the boys suddenly began discussing moving out into their own homes, she wasn’t the most thrilled about it, simply because she couldn’t imagine herself going through the decision-making process of visiting and picking an apartment for herself, and on top of that, having to go through all the moving work and trying to make another place feel like her own.

“I just think we live in a good apartment, and there isn’t much reason to try and change that” She calmly discussed one morning, while Jaemin cooked breakfast for the both of them.

“Well, technically this apartment isn’t ours, and if the owner wants to kick us out anytime, he’s fully capable of doing so. It’s the most reasonable thing to do. Individually, each of us can already afford to buy a condo, which in the future can become an investment, not to say it would be much more comfortable to live in a place you picked yourself. Not everyone who is our age can do that, I think it would be a waste of an opportunity to not go for it”

“I don’t think I would be comfortable living by myself. In fact, I would probably be a hazard to my own life” Holding onto the one thing he said that she disagreed with, Bee tried to make a point, though she knew Jaemin was probably right about the whole thing.

“Well, you don’t have to be by yourself. I don’t think all of us will move out to be alone, Renjun was thinking about sharing a place if anyone was up for it, you could go with him” The boy shrugged, unfazed by her arguing.

“So you’re telling me your plan is to just leave me out here alone and move out without bringing me along. You know I’m going to starve, don’t you?” Crossing her arms, Bee tilted her head as she noticed the small grin on his face.

“Maybe it’s time for you to do an online cooking course or something. The future I imagine only involves me, a bunch of cats, and a big ass couch”

Sighing, Bee rolled her eyes and dropped the subject with him, but she couldn’t stop thinking about it as the day went on. When she dropped by the studio during one of her breaks, the girl couldn’t help but complain to the 127 members around.

“It’s all your fault for dropping the dorm life and going into your own houses, now the boys think we need to do the same just because we have money��� Jungwoo and Doyoung frowned, turning their attention to her, while Mark only laughed and squeezed her sides.

“Well, I didn’t go to my place just because I could afford it, you know. It was more of an investment rather than just blowing money for the sake of it” Doyoung chuckled at her rolling her eyes while he explained himself.

“Even if it’s just to flex, it’s a lot more comfortable living by your rules, it even makes our group moments more enjoyable since we’re not together all the time” Jungwoo shrugged and got up as the producer signalized for him to go into the booth

“And let’s be honest, the company doesn’t spend as much as we can on giving us a nice rental. You should come to check out the gym area in the condo I’m living in. Also, sharing a place with fewer people is a lot nicer than five dudes at once, sorry guys”

“Don’t be, our dorm was a mess, I don’t miss it either” Doyoung and Mark laughed reminiscing, while Bee readjusted herself on the couch the three were seated on. Hugging one leg, she groaned and rested her head on top of her knee.

“I don’t want to go out house hunting, having to face all my finances and the options, and deal with all that moving adult stuff”

“Just move in with me then” Mark casually stated, making a chill travel up Bee’s spine as she froze up. Chocking on air, Doyoung quickly got up and headed for the door, mumbling “I think someone’s calling me outside”

“What?” The boy giggled, confused at everyone’s sudden change of mood.

“I can’t just move in with you” Bee whispered, and thankfully to her, the producer ignored their conversation and kept going with Jungwoo’s recording.

“Why not? It would be so convenient, you wouldn’t have to choose a place, everything’s pretty much already figured out with electronics and utensils and all that adult crap, plus you’re used to being there already”

Rendered speechless, Bee thought for a minute before gasping “What about the fans?”

“What about them?” Mark smiled affectionately before turning serious and counting on his fingers, “Well, first, they don’t need to know we’ll be living together. Second, what’s so different between you sharing dorms with the boys, to sharing an apartment with me”

“You know very well the difference” The girl spoke the obvious, making him shrug.

“So, if that classified information happened to leak, we can just say we each have our separate rooms” Deciding to let go of his tensed-up girlfriend, Mark gave her a side hug and a kiss on the side of the head “Just think about it, okay? There’s no pressure to say yes, though I think it would be a nice option for you, and I would be happy if you agreed to. But also, I’m the happiest when you are, so take your time deciding”

Despite Mark giving her as much time as she needed, everyone else seemed to be moving at a lot faster pace. In just a few days, Bee was touring apartments with Renjun and Jisung, both of whom were open to being roommates for the time being.

“This one is actually really nice” Renjun commented while going through the kitchen. The real estate agent that came with them was just by the door getting a phone call, or at least pretending to, while letting the three idols talk about their last stop for the day.

“I think so too, the bedrooms and the living room are all pretty large” Jisung nodded, looking into the hallway “The only downside to it, it’s that there are only three rooms, but I’m willing to put that aside for the quality of the apartment”

“We wouldn’t be able to have guests, though. The boys would be fine since we’re used to sharing rooms and stuff. Although I don’t know about Renjun, if my parents came over from overseas I’d like to welcome them into my house”

“That’s what I was thinking too” Renjun sighed, leaning against the kitchen sink, “Having somewhere my family could stay and visit freely would be ideal”

“Still, this place is amazing” Bee looked around again, and the boys agreed with dreamy “Yes” “It really is”

“I think we should reflect, and just consider if we should go for it,” Renjun thought out loud just as the real estate agent stepped back into the conversation.

“About that, if you would like to keep this place, I suggest you decide as soon as possible. I know it’s not ideal, but there are more people interested, and the most I can guarantee you it’s until tomorrow night”

Feeling like their little bubbles had just cracked, the three thanked him and assured him they would keep in touch until the deadline.

Going down the elevator, Bee thought through about how everything could be slowly turning into place without her noticing it, and it seemed to her that there was one way of satisfying everyone’s wishes, which made it look easier to take the next step in her relationship with Mark.

“I kind of wish we hadn’t visited this one because it would make that one with four bedrooms from earlier a lot nicer looking” Jisung sighed as they crowded inside a taxi.

“Well, if we decide to not keep this one, we’ll have more time to look for another apartment that we like better” Renjun looked out of the window contemplating their options.

“Would you guys still go for this last one if I decided to step out?” Bee questioned from the middle, looking from side to side to watch their reactions.

Jisung frowned at her confused, while Renjun scoffed, “Yunhee, weren’t you the one begging us not to be left alone? Don’t panic yet, we can find a place that’ll fit all of us”

“I know we can, I’m just considering my options as you said. So like, if I were to take on another offer, it would solve the missing bedroom problem. Would you guys still want to keep this last apartment?”

“Is this a trick question?” Jisung asked exasperated.

“I’m being serious Jisungie, I was already considering this other thing before today, and know that there’s a place that would be great for you two, I’m almost certain you should take it without me”

“What the hell other offer is that? Can you just be open to us” Renjun groaned annoyed, and the girl shrugged, trying to sound casual to check for their reactions. “Mark asked if I wanted to move in with him”

Gasping, Jisung stared at her with judging eyes, “And you spent an entire day house-hunting with us after your boyfriend invited you to share an apartment with him?”

“He told me I could think about it” Bee mumbled at his outburst, though she was more worried about Renjun’s silence than the youngest’s annoyance. “Oppa, so what are you thinking?”

“That solves everything, doesn’t it?” Renjun smiled optimistically. “I’m kind of not ready to live with one less person, but still, everything would work out”

“It would. When we get home, I’ll confirm with Mark that everything is okay with him, and you guys can call the agent tomorrow morning”

“No need to worry, I’m calling him right now” Jisung beamed from her side just as his phone picked up the call “Mark Hyung, great news for me, not so great for you. Bee agrees to move in with you”

Just as the girl gets ready to punch Jisung’s arm, she listens to Mark’s excited “Really? Holy shit” and that makes her certain she made the right call.

[blo0d1er]

First conceptualized by The Lucky One’s Jung Jisoo in 2020, gathering trainees to form a group with a “global’ look, the group soon to be titled SLASH performed in their first showcase in late 2021. The first rendition of the lineup consisted of Chinese Neverland contestant Zheng Hui, company nepo-baby Na Sebastian, the ever ambitious Sasha Flores, and dazzling Thai trainee Lalita Suwannathat. Marketed as Lucky’s little siblings, their unique concept and captivating performance generated excitement for the group.

The buzz only continued to grow as cryptic posters began appearing around Seoul, featuring QR codes directing curious viewers to an almost empty website only showing largely blacked out and blurred profiles of each member and a link to an Instagram account, @ bloodyvalentine, which infrequently posted behind the scenes film photos of the trainees with no captions but their names in a hashtag.

The building anticipation only made Jung Jisoo more ambitious, adding trainees Spencer Shu-Bellamy, Shin Doa, and Freddie Ahn (now known as BAM!’s Kiho) to the lineup to make it a 7-piece group. Teasers and posters only increased in frequency leading up to October 2022, when they were originally set to debut according to Prismatic’s leaked plans for the quarter. 

However, 1 week before their set debut date, Lalita suffered a debilitating ACL injury in practice. Rather than allow the group to debut without her, the debut was delayed altogether. Many argue that Lalita received special treatment from Jisoo and the group’s management, and was intended to be the star of the group.

The group lay in limbo from that point on, waiting for Lalita to fully recover from her injury and a new debut date to be set. Within this time Sasha appeared on HYBE’s Dream Academy, barely being edged out of the final debut group while Hui appeared on Boys Planet 999 placing 8th and becoming an official member of ZEROBASEONE, exiting the trainee group to make his debut.

Suddenly a 6-piece unit, a new debut date was finally set for January of 2024, nearly 2 years after their original debut date, before the sudden acquisition of BAM! and other Sixth Sense Media trainees. In the quick and unexpected turnaround for the group’s debut, SLASH once again suffered the loss of a member and the postponement of their debut date. However, beginning to face pressure from both the members of the trainee group and their families, the company sent the group to America to continue training in a new environment and act as a distraction as they attempt to gather their resources. Two trainees were added to fill out the lineup; longtime trainee, Neverland contestant, and budding producer Chase Park, and Hwang Taebin newly acquired from Sixth Sense.

The 7 trainees lived in a beach-side condo in Los Angeles as they continued their training in renowned dance academies and vocal studios. The Instagram was still posting the trainees lives behind the scenes, although just as cryptic as ever. A new teaser video was posted to once again generate buzz surrounding the group and satiate the members and those backing them. However, one member would not return from America. The bloodyvalentine account inexplicably stopped posting photos of Lalita after her face took up a majority of the account’s feed previously. 

Many believed that she simply left the unpredictable group setting to pursue her own ambitions, but an unknown source within Prismatic Entertainment leaked information regarding the alleged true nature of her disappearance to a forum of SLASH fans who have been around since the very beginning. According to this source, Lalita left a note in the group’s condo one night stating that she was tired of the purgatory of trainee life and ran away to experience freedom traveling across America. She has not been heard from since. The source also noted that her family planned to take legal action against Prismatic citing negligence. 

Despite this, SLASH seems to finally be getting the debut that has been dangled in front of them for years, set to debut once again in late August 2024. After such turmoil and so many unanswered questions, SLASH’s future still remains shrouded in mystery. Will they be able to make it passed all of the struggles that may weigh them down?

[trivialbob]

I am back home from vacation in Isla Mujeres. Sheila is staying a few more days. We know other visitors on the island. Sheila is hanging out with them this week.

The Island is a 25 minute ferry ride from Cancun. It is about tourism, but not at all like being inside an all-inclusive resort. Many folks we ran into visit Isla for several weeks at a time and stay in small condos or rooms.

(A bit long, with pictures, below the cut)

We rented a two-bedroom place in a small, four-unit building. It was at the north end of the island. That's where many of the American and Canadian visitors stay. But locals live there too. From our roof we could see the family next door, cooking and putting out their laundry to dry. Our door is the blue one in the bottom left picture.

Some US hotels I've been at lately don't offer daily changes of sheets and towels. "For the sake of the environment," ya know. Our modest place in Isla included fresh sheets and towels every day in addition to full room cleaning. It felt luxurious.

More local people live mid-island and to the south end. However, visitors rent places all over the narrow island. A couple we know has the equivalent of a studio apartment mid-island for two months at $600/month. A realtor would call it "Very cozy." I liked it.

That couple has bicycles they store there for when they come back each winter. They also rent a golf cart from time to time to drive around the island, as many visitors do. Some Americans and Canadians purchase places instead of renting. Some beautiful, modern houses dot the island.

One of the first things I did upon arrival was slather myself in SPF 50 sunscreen. My pasty white head and back made the soft, white beach sand look like black pepper in comparison. The sunscreen worked well. I have only one small patch of burned skin where I missed covering a spot on one ankle.

You won't find chain restaurants here. The few banks and gas stations have familiar names, but that's about it for big brands.

Warning signs are few and far between. Servers bring cold beer to the beach, in glass bottles. This was my fourth or fifth visit and Sheila's 12th. We've never seen or heard someone break a bottle. There are no lifeguards at beaches or pools.

When crossing roads, cars, golf carts, and scooters seem to have the right-of-way over pedestrians. Sidewalks are rough and uneven. You learn to be careful and pay attention. At times soldiers and police patrolled the streets with rifles. We felt secure the whole time, even while walking in dimly lit local neighborhoods.

One resort-like place where we hung out at for a few hours has a pool with concrete seats and tables in the water. A server, seeing me cooling off in the water, asked if I'd deliver a glass ashtray to four women sitting at table in the pool.

Smoking isn't allowed inside bars and restaurants, thank God. Unlike the US where that's just understood, there are some No Fumar signs posted in Isla businesses. I bet I didn't see more than a dozen people smoking the whole time I was there.

Touristy stuff is there if you want that. Two streets have vendors hawking t-shirts, magnets, and such. Scuba and fishing trips are available if that's your thing. Golf carts and scooters can be rented. Mainly I eat good food, drink relatively inexpensive drinks and cheap beer, read, and relax. Surprisingly though, I recorded 10,000 or more steps every day.

Many of the older buildings would make an American code inspector twitch with anxiety. Few stairs, even very steep ones, have railings. Nor do all the rooftops. Our place had a railing on top but the buildings next to us did not. A realtor might call those "Unencumbered terraces." I easily could have done one of those cop TV show stunts, jumping from building to building while chasing a perp down the block.

Try tracing these wires. Or finding the source of the water lines. A realtor might say "Plentiful utilities." We did have excellent water pressure, hot and cold. Just don't drink it.

Bathrooms in some bars and restaurants... oh my. An Applebee's is more sanitary, but then you are eating at Applebee's. About ten years ago one of Sheila's friends purchased a toilet seat with her own money and installed it herself in one of the island's bars she liked to frequent. She had developed some nice leg muscles from so much hovering. Life's trade-offs, right?

One bar's women's room has a lot of comments in Sharpie about Mark. Some female out there somewhere DOES NOT LIKE MARK. Apparently a frequent visitor to the island, she documents when bad thoughts of Mark cross her mind. The men's room offered some scribbles both for and against Mark. At our table a group of us sat around trying to come up with the story. It could have a chance at being a Netflix/Hulu movie.

We didn't cook. There are too many local places that are fun and tasty. In some parts of the island you can actually order a meal at someone's house and eat on their patio. I'll have a separate post later about how we hired local guy bring us to seven different places for food one night.

Several times we shared restaurant tables with other visitors, some we knew from previous visits, some total strangers. A couple from New Jersey wanted to sit on the patio at a restaurant Sheila and I like. All three outside tables were occupied. We had empty chairs at ours, so we invited them to join us and had a wonderful evening talking with them. The wife did sound a bit like Carmela Soprano. Her husband, however, did not make me remove my cap. Another restaurant had a cat you could pet during dinner at another place.

In addition to the restaurant cat there were sidewalk dogs. They putter around or relax on the warm pavement. People walk and drive around the dogs. I assure you that white dog in the right picture is just sleeping contentedly. I didn't use a flash, so I wouldn't disturb him. The little one on the left greeted me as I walked along the malecón on my way to a massage.

We played pickle ball while there. The courts were in the middle of an area with few tourists. All the players were Americans. I wonder what the local residents think of the game with the bright, plastic balls that go clink, clink, clink. That's me in the yellow hat (top left picture). The bottom two pictures are what was behind the courts.

I could get used to scooter life. Sheila has one at home, but it's engine is literally six times the size of what these ones here have.

Carnival celebrations began on Friday. Our place overlooked the town square, by the Catholic Church. It was fun to watch the celebration with the loud music and lots of people.

That got long! Enough for now.

[keetabananas]

The Crawford Condos || The Sims 4 For Rent

Modern and unique customized condominiums.

Download on the gallery by searching #keetabanana, #keetabananas or my Origin ID KeetaBanana.

Download lot here!

Watch the Speed Build

The Crawford - Condominum Lot Type: Residential Rental 4 units Lot Size: 20x15 Listing Price: §188,910 Laundry on site Rooftop Deck Parking Garage

Unit A Modern Chic (First Floor) 1bed 1bath Listing Price: §40,060 Size: 144 Tiles Traits: Celebrity Home, Peace and Quiet

Unit B Family Starter (Second Floor) 2bed 1bath Listing Price: §41,909 Size: 165 Tiles Traits: Good Schools, Homey

Unit C Boho Mood (Third Floor) Studio 1bed 1bath Listing Price: §24,286 Size: 80 Tiles Traits: Home Studio, Homey

Unit D Streamer Haven (Third Floor) Micro 1bed 1bath Listing Price: §22,489 Size: 64 Tiles Traits: Fast Internet, Great Acoustics

[qubedesign]

#qubdesign brings you The Old Salt House condo apartments. Six beautifully designed units varying in size from studio to 3 bedroom / 2 bath. Lovely shared amenities include an elegant lobby, indoor pool and waterside sundecks.

This lot is 30 x 30 $367,414

This lot has no cc

Available now in the gallery origin ID BraverAdventures

Or download ad-free on SFS: http://www.simfileshare.net/download/4328319/

Photographed using my Autumn Clear re-shade preset: http://www.simfileshare.net/download/4264145/

[power-chords]

It turned out that this was an Emanuel Wolff who had found and enjoyed a Heidenreich painting, but it wasn’t the Emanuel Wolf. It was really ridiculous.

Well, then Catherine and I found an address in upper Manhattan. We just checked every Emanuel Wolf, everyone there, and there was no Emanuel Wolf there anymore, but there was a super who had said, “Yeah, there had been a guy here. Yeah, it sort of sounds like what you're talking about.”

So I did have this address in upper Manhattan, 58th Street, Eastside somewhere. We went there and checked all of the boxes and found nobody of that name, but there had been somebody there. I asked the super, is anybody here who has lived here for 20 or more years. So he introduced me to some tenant, or maybe some owner of a condo. And he said, "Oh yeah, there was an Emanuel Wolf but he left. I don’t know what he did."

So I was at a dead end. Then, I had a flash of inspiration based on the fact that I'm a lawyer.

I knew that Kalvex had gone bankrupt and there was a system built about 10 years before this in the United States called the Pension Benefit Guarantee Corporation; it was a public, in other words, a government-owned entity, but it was a separate corporation. It wasn't a department of any government unit. And it was funded with premiums which corporations had to pay so that if some corporation that had had a benefit plan went bankrupt and couldn't honor it, this was the insurer that jumped in. I remember this very well, they didn't pay the Cadillac plans as they're called, but they paid a basic pension.

Next time I was in Washington D.C., I went to the offices of the Pension Benefit Guarantee Corporation, which was quite a fortress. It was hard even to get in the gate you might say and it took a lot of explaining what I was looking for; finally, whoever ran the gatekeeping did call upstairs and said, "Yes, I think this is the office you want to see."

I wanted to see records, whether there had been a record of him. Well, I get up there and a very nice but rather suspicious woman took a lot of explaining. Slowly, I got her to understand that this was kosher, it was not some kind of a scam going on. And I said, "Can you tell me if there is such a person." She said, "Well, all I can tell you is whether we still have a record of a beneficiary receiving benefits. I cannot tell you his name and I cannot tell you his address."

I said, "Since I know his name, I'm only asking you whether there is such a person. Whether it's the right one or not is another matter."

She checked it and said, "Yes, there is an Emanuel Wolf receiving pensions." I said, "Great, may I get his address?" She said, "We can't do that."

Well, I sort of got into an I'll-show-you-mine-if-you-show-me-yours. I said, "Well, was is this address, let me at least go that far." I had this 58th Street address and she said, "Oh, well, it's close but that isn't it, and anyway, sir, that's not the address we have on file anymore now."

Well, she left the room for some reason. I don't want to speculate why. So I kind of partly went over the railing and took a look at the screen and it didn't show much but it showed that this person was receiving benefits under a list of Californians. So now, when I went back to Berkeley, I was starting to look for an Emanuel Wolf who was in California. There were about eleven of them.

I think on the third one or so—it didn't take all eleven—I got lucky. I still remember the conversation and I knew later why he spoke as he did.

I said, "Is this Mr. Emanuel?"

He said, "Who wants to know?"—because he had apparently been threatened with a lawsuit on a copyright issue concerning the movie Cabaret. He had made up a poster [for Cabaret], because he had been a producer on it before he was then pushed off it. That always stung with him. He felt he had been the real producer—and he had! He had gotten the stars together to agree to appear and to sign a contract. But somehow, the thing got away from him and some studio took it over.

So I think he thought I might be a person involved in trying to make a demand of him about this thing.

But then when I explained what it was, first of all he was quite amazed, and then he was just terrific. So he immediately invites me down to look at everything.

Within a week I was there in Carlsbad at his place. From there on, the connection got remade.

[investcebu]

OVERLOOKING CONDO CEBU 128 NIVEL HILLS STUDIO UNIT

[kokujin-josei-simmer]

Decorating a residential rental (4 units: 2 2BDRM and 2 Studio apts) for Sulani I downloaded from The Gallery (I'll post exterior pics of the build and EA ID of the builder soon), the apartments already had the wooden floors, kitchen counters and cabinets. The 2nd to last pic shows an apartment that was already furnished (landlord's apartment, I haven't played as a landlord yet), I just added the rice cooker, ceiling fan and some of the clutter.

I got the idea for colorful walls from a condo I saw for sale (condo apparently is only $82,000 *trying to imagine a decent condo like this in NYC for a similar price 🤯* and it's in Honolulu, Hawai'i), I decided to make all the apartments have colorful brick walls in the kitchen. Might change the floors to tile like the condo, too, because tile is probably most suitable for hot and humid weather like Hawai'i/Sulani.

[ceburealestate88]

PRESELLING AFFORDABLE CONDO NEAR IT PARK CEBU THE MEDIAN FLATS

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Opportunity to buy a 1bd, 1ba condo in the renovated 1956 Desert Star Hotel in Palm Springs, California. $459K + $525mo. HOA.

It says 1bd, but it's actually a studio as you can see by the bed in the corner.

The living room area is pretty spacious.

Brand new kitchen has a high end Bosch dishwasher.

Outside the bedroom is a private patio.

This is very nice. It would be like being on vacation all the time. Of course, it can be rented out as an Airbnb, too.

The area even has a locked door.

The bathroom is right off the bedroom and also has a door to the patio.

It's nice. The bedroom is far enough away from the living area.

The exterior of the unit. This is a pretty good one, b/c it's a little more private in the corner.

The other units are in a row. I wonder if they're a little cheaper.

You walk out your front door to the pool.

There's a table between the other units. Maybe they don't have patios.

For the $525mo. HOA, I'd want to know why they patched the lot and didn't repave it.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/1611-S-Calle-Palo-Fierro-1-Palm-Springs-CA-92264/17739742_zpid/

[lupismaris]

The Opening Act of Spring- a Black Sails Fic. Chapter 3

The Ranger’s have a castle above the clouds, the delta bayou’s favorite undead son hasn’t changed much despite appearances, and we meet the patriarch of The Walrus- one of the beloved queer bars in west Brooklyn- Hal Gates. 

The condo The Rangers shared on West End ave was high up in a shiny new building, overlooking the Hudson river and the west skyline of Manhattan. Silver wasn’t surprised that his sister had opted for a sleek home with floor to ceiling windows and polished wood floors, she had always day dreamed about a place above the clouds, untouchable like the men and women they conned for eating money. And now, as he and Anne stepped out of the private elevator, it seemed as if her dreams of that life, to a point, had come true. Of course the life time of suffering and blood that had gone into it could hardly been denied, but as with all things Max did, no one would know it. Grace and Elegance masked all, by careful design.

Silver whistled at the well lit space, kicking off his shoes at the door. Sunlight was starting to spill into the open concept living and dining room. The lime washed walls were decorated with elegant pieces of art, contemporary and colorful to contrast the neutral tones of the condo itself, the furniture mid-century modern with its rich honey toned wood and brass metal accents. House plants and vases of flowers, well loved and flourishing, were tucked into every sensible corner and open surface, bringing life into an otherwise sterile home, one that Silver would have expected to see in a high end magazine review.

“She’ll be in the studio, through there,” Anne said, nodding to a room past the kitchen. She handed over the bouquet of Irises. “Give these to her. I’m gonna make sure Chaz is up for work.”

“Sure, thanks, by the way-”

She waved it off and disappeared down the dim hallway.

“Right. Good talk.”

The studio had, as expected, the best lighting in the whole condo. It was a corner unit and the studio sat right at the corner, able to scrape together whatever sunlight available at whatever time of day. Silver had to guess that Max’s bedroom was graced with either the next best natural light, or the best light fixture money could buy to mimic it. The room was filled with various dress forms and metal figures, each draped in different fabrics that would, in time, become cocktail dresses and gowns. Two work benches were littered with supplies, pages of sketches and two sewing machines, boxes of sexing tools, pens and pencils and drafting tools, shelves covered in bolts of lush fabrics in jewel tones and soft neutrals. All that was what Silver expected to find, the heart and soul of his sister’s enterprise laid bare.

But over by the windows, where Max was seated, stood an easel and canvas, with several half finished canvases of varying sizes leaning against the glass awaiting their turn. A small table attended to Max’s right, carrying a tray of oil pastels and a cloth for her hands, a pair of chamois for blending, and her morning cappuccino long forgotten, its foam clinging to the sides of the porcelain bowl.

His sister had always wanted to take up the finer arts, or so she had told him, but their lives had never allowed them the time. Too much running, too many lies, too many masks, and whats more, gutter rats like them had more important things to worry about than the delicate curve of a shadow on the page or how to blend charcoal, didn’t they?

Silver stood there silently for a few moments, watching as Max blended the soft peach of sunlight into the clouds she was attempting to capture, the view from her window shifting ever so slightly so that her canvas was a perfect dream of the Morning sky. Her dark curls, coiled more tightly than his own, were tied up high on her head with a silk scarf, the rich green and gold of it reminding Silver of laurels, a perfect contrast to her darker skin.

Of them all, Max’s laurels were most deserved.

“No one likes a ghost in the doorway, mon cher,” she said over her shoulder, taking up a robin’s egg blue pastel.

“I’d disagree but I’d hate to ruin so lovely a morning-”

Her laughter was as sharp as a jaybird’s call, joyful and just a little mocking. “Oh you’re exhausting. Come on then, you’re already half an hour late as it is you cad.” 

Silver felt himself smile, his first honest smile since landing at JFK, and let himself enter the room properly. Max set down her pastels and wiped her hands, twisting on the stool to face him. Her lounge set, knit leggings and loose tank top of bone white, looked soft and well loved. She wore no make up, the only colour on her cheeks the stray smear of blue pastel along her cheek bone from a misplaced finger, and the only jewelry Silver could see was the delicate gold bracelet he had given her years before after their first big score.

And a simple gold diamond ring on her left ring finger.

“Well now when did that happen?” Silver asked with some astonishment. He’d expected a phone call if not a photo if Anne had finally popped the question after years and years of domestic bliss.

“It hasn’t, it’s a place holder,” Max said, though the soft blush in her cheeks meant it still meant the world. “She grew tired of people presuming things, had me pick out something classic until we could custom order something better. You know I wouldn’t choose a diamond for the final product.”

“No you had always been partial to pearls or emeralds, I remember that.” Silver kissed her temple and passed over the irises. “These are from her by the way.”

“Thought as much, you never bring me flowers.”

“No I bring you shiny things worth stupid amounts of money and leave the romantic gestures to your beau.”

Max rolled her eyes and got up to find a vase for the flowers, leaving Silver to poke around the studio like a curious stray cat. “I imagine those gifts are still at your hotel, since you look like shit and Anne said she found you drunk in a bathtub this morning?”

“Mmm it wasn’t my best wake up call I’ll give her that.”

“You don’t drink, mon Cher, I take it Jack’s plan didn’t go as well as he hoped?”

It was a question, but Silver felt the rhetorical tone even with his back turned.

“Did you suggest it to him or did he think it up all on his own like a big kid?”

“Now now don’t be too cross, it could have been worse.”

“How exactly? With Flint gutting me in public? Strangling me in an elevator? Tossing me off a balcony? Or do you have a more romantic kind of murder in mind?” Silver asked dryly, dropping onto the vintage loveseat by the windows.

Max set the vase of Irises on the closest work station and turned to face him with a sigh. “Are you finished feeling sorry for yourself? Or would you like to wallow in self pity for a few more minutes?”

“Few more couldn’t hurt.”

“You’ve had more than enough time I think and I don’t want to hear it.”

Silver pushed his sunglasses up onto his hair and blinked and the sun filled room. “As you wish. I’m just saying it was a dick move. And I’m a little surprised at you, shacking up with Flint after all this. When you were the one who knew before we all did that it was worth it in the end.”

Max crossed her arms and leaned back against the workstation, taking in Silver’s haggard face, bloodshot and shadowed eyes. “More than just a drink then hm?”

“Oh I’m sorry if it was Ellie would you have done better?”

It was cruel and he knew it. His sister’s eyes hardened for a moment as she considered him.

“Yes. Because I did the work you haven’t.”

Silver sighed and turned his gaze to the window.

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” she said after a moment, “You abandoned us. You had the opportunity to stay and have a real chance at something better and you walked away, so what I choose to do in my business ventures is none of your concern, Silver. You gave up that right.”

“Then why ask me here?”

“You abandoning us does not mean we have chosen to abandon you.”

It took effort not to look up as she crossed the room, coming to sit on the love seat next to him.

“Even if you’d rather we did,” She added.

“That- that’s not-” He sighed, turning to her and shaking his head. “I don’t wish that, you know I don’t.”

Max smiled at him and reached up to tuck a few stray curls behind his ear. She said nothing, just let his empty lie hang lifeless in the space between them for a moment, before asking about his flight in from Istanbul.

He had never been able to lie to her, and she had never been able to lie to him, not in any way that had mattered. Little white lies and surprise parties were possible, sure, but when it mattered? Eventually it would unravel, the fibers fraying and thinning as they tried to spin them, faster and faster until they were left empty handed and shamefaced. The only lie that stood was, in a sense, a shared truth- that neither of them had existed before their meeting, that their lives had begun the moment they had met in the back room of a dusty and dirty whore house in some city they pretended to forget the name of. Before that there had been nothing. That was the only lie they would permit.

And maybe it was better that way. Maybe it was better that Max knew Silver was lying when he said he didn’t want to be forgotten, abandoned to his self made misery while she and her lovers built new beautiful lives for themselves in castles on clouds. Because otherwise he’d have to admit it out loud, admit that he wanted to play the martyr and be left to the consequences of his mistakes.

That he didn’t think he deserved a second chance.

Some people didn’t deserve to be saved, right? Didn’t deserve to prove themselves bettered? Maybe, just maybe, he was one of them and the best thing he could do was let that be the case. Especially if it meant he didn’t have to acknowledge that he had in fact made the mistakes in the first place.

But he’d never win that argument with Max, not if she had it in her head that, for whatever reason, he was meant to be a part of their bizarre new lives.

Did he resent her, and the others, a little, for said beautiful new life? Despite it being everything they had bled for all those years? Yes.

Did it make sense? No not even remotely.

He found himself chewing over the thought all afternoon as they had an early lunch, the other Rangers joining them in the dining room. Rackham tried to be a gentleman and offer Silver his one punch to the stomach over drinks-gone-ary, but Silver refused him with a tired laugh.

“Let’s keep a running tally for now,” he said, letting Rackham pull him into a hug. “I’m sure you’ll earn another soon enough. Besides, I think both of us have had our nerves shaken enough over the last twenty four hours-”

Rackham laughed and kissed his cheek as he let him go. “Haven’t we just. There is nothing quite as terrifying as that man stalking you across a room. I thought I’d forgotten that fear but no, no, it has been thoroughly reintroduced to my nightmares after yesterday.”

It had never left Silver’s dreams, the way it felt to have Flint watch him from across the room, move with him, appear suddenly at his side like a phantom.

“You try bein’ in a fuckin kitchen wit’m,” Vane said over his shoulder, his rumbling voice raised slightly to be heard over the rhythmic thud of the knife against the cutting board. “One moment you’re alone gettin’ mise set no body but christ to talk to n’the next he’s there raining hellfire down. If he didn’t announce himself he’d get gutted for scaring a man.”

Rackham sat at the breakfast bar so he could watch Vane cook, “That’s a trait you share darling.”

“Doesn’t mean I gotta like it on him now do I?” Vane asked, feeding Rackham a slice of radish with salted butter.

Silver fought the urge to roll his eyes. They’d become bizarrely domestic and exhausting in their retirement, Rackham smitten in his expensive lounge wear and Vane wearing an apron with his name embroidered on it, putting the finishing touches on a cheese board and salad while the spanakopita finished baking.

It would have been gross, in the way it was for you to see your best friend mack on their new beaus. That is, if Silver wasn’t ultimately struggling with the concept of Vane as a kept house husband who fixed lunch for his roommates and only had a job to keep him out of trouble and wore, of all things, embroidered aprons.

Silver could distinctly remember the day he learned that Vane had removed another man’s head for pissing him off, after all. He had seen the aftermath alongside Max, her ex and the rest of the Guthrie smugglers. It wasn’t something you easily forgot.

Rackham had done the truly impossible. He’d take the wild thing and domesticated it, just enough to fool to world into thinking it had always been so. Silver made a note to never question his capacity for sex, romance, or sheer power of will ever again.

If nothing else, the embroidered apron was going to take a lot of getting used to.

He said as much later that afternoon, relishing the loud burst of laughter that rang out in reply.

“If Jackie hadn’a spent two days makin’ the damn thing-” Vane shook his head, his long hair tossing as he did. “Shoo ain’t catchin me wearin’ another that’s for damn sure. Jackie made it, understand?”

Another park, this time across the bridge, with a stunning view of the river, the sparkling glass and metal skyline of Gotham across the way. Silver had followed Vane to Brooklyn once lunch had finished, Max and Rackham off to a busy afternoon of fittings and model interviews for the summer look book, Anne joining them as she often did. So Vane had found Silver a spare helmet and pulled his vintage Harley out of the private garage, slipping the valet a few bills on their way out of the back entrance in a way that felt very routine, and they made their way to Brooklyn, slicing through traffic.

Silver watched the various pedestrians pass them by, the two of them seated comfortably on an ornate promenade bench, Vane’s bike parked a few feet away on the curb. “Still, considering you used to pitch such a fit about things like that? I distinctly remember you giving Flint so much shit whenever he told you to wear a shirt. Or say please.”

Vane snorted, all sharp teeth as he smiled in amusement. “Mmm but it is fun fuckin with that old queen innit? He cared far too much about respectability when it didn’t right matter n’he knew it, but it made him feel better to scold about it anyhow. Sense of control when it was all falling apart.” He shrugged. “Just cause Jackie get’s me playing nice doesn’t mean I believe it. Just means I believe it enough for his sake, you know? Makes him happy, makes him smile, so I believe in it enough to bring bout that result and keep one foot toeing the line should Jackie forget they don’t play fair. Means, end.”

There was that all encompassing “They” again, alongside a shadow that Silver thought he recognized, of the man who’d burned off his own finger prints at 13, who never quite understood Flint’s need for decorum, but seemed perfectly at home with Silver’s deeply rooted fear of commitment.

“And the means of working for Flint?” he asked when Vane didn’t continue.

“Mmm.”

There was a pause then, as Vane watched the clouds slowly roll in over head. A small, ghost of a smile played on his lips, as if he’d remembered some little joke that Silver wasn’t party to.

“Why I get the feeling you been asking this question all day?” he asked in turn, rolling his head over to look at Silver. “It’s eatin’ you up real bad innit, us tolerating each other again?”

Silver looked away with a sigh. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“Shoo, does anything about any of this? Johnny we stole the world out from under those fuckers and what’d I get in turn?”

On the expressway below the promenade, a truck’s exhaust backfired. Smoke, the smell of burning oil filled the air for a moment as the clouds continued to shift over head, memories taking shape in the altered light as Vane continued.

He hadn’t been there, the day Charles Vane had died. It hadn’t been long after he’d lost his leg and despite a clean amputation and proper antibiotics, his lack of rest had lead to an infection. Silver had been laid up in a safe house for three weeks, during which Vane had been captured on a raid.

“A noose,” Vane continued, “A coffin. If it had gone any different, if a fucker had been a smidge less upset that  afternoon-” he laughed again, a darker, older sound and dropped his head back to look up at the clouds. Silver could see clearly the scar the rope had left, resting where his adams apple should have been, faded slightly with the years but haunting them all the same.

In the small courtyard of Rogers’ largest factory town to fall, Charles Vane had been strung up like the animal the world had thought him to be. Silver had learned later that some small speech had been made, the warden being kind enough, or stupid enough, to give Vane parting words. Whatever was said had been the last bit of fuel for the fire. In the riot that followed, his body went missing.

Silver had never been brave enough to ask him how, whether it had been sheer dumb luck or all part of a grander plan. Something told him that Vane would just level him with that tired, oddly wise look, and just smile, before changing the subject entirely.

“You and Flint tried to kill each other. More than once,” Silver reminded him, trying to change the subject. “Couldn’t agree on anything-”

“Who says that’s changed?” Vane shrugged, getting to his feet and stretching his arms high above his head, cut sleeves of his work tshirt riding up to show the faint edge of old scars long the underside of his pecs. “Said it before, Say it again- ain’t no body making that queen into a trophy but me.”

“Yeah but-”

“’Sides, something healthy bout that if you askin me. We different men, sure, he may be soft, but only I know just how so. Certain kinda intimacy you only get with a man you decide to be the end of, one way or another. Wouldn’ you agree?” Vane’s smile was teasing as he pulled out a cigar from his bag and fished around for his lighter. Silver pulled out his and waved for him to lean in.

Vane did so and held still, lips pulling at the cigar while Sliver lit it, smoke curling around his tanned face. “Thats a kind of love ain’t nothin’ gonna replace. Not comfort, not peace, not gold. Not even sex.”

Their eyes met as Vane pulled back, Silver feeling pinned under a gaze not for the first time that day. It was all he could do to stare back at the gray eyes that shifted behind cigar smoke.

“You used to want comfort, now I think bout it,” he continued, “easy comfort even. Mmm. Now you lookin more like me every day, Johnny. It’s a lean look on you. Pity we never wanted to be the end of each other. Otherwise, I think we’ a been interestin, you and me. Guess I gotta leave that to the old queen.”

Vane patted Silver’s cheek when he didn’t reply and moved around the bench towards his bike. It was time to head to the bar and for Silver to disappear back to Manhattan. That was the safest thing to do.

“Vane.”

“Mm.”

“You’d tell me if he wasn’t retired.”

Vane straddled the bike and puffed at the cigar for a moment. Silver didn’t look back at him.

“If he was out of retirement, I’d be out of retirement. Game’s not fun without that fucker in it.”

That might have been the truest statement he’d heard in the last 24 hours. Silver sighed and nodded, letting his head hang and his body sag into the bench a bit. He listened as Vane kickstarted the old bike, the engine revving to life.

“Make sure ya get home before the sky opens. Don’ want them findin’ ya in the gutter-” came Vane’s shouted goodbye before the roar of the bike echoed away down the street and Silver was again left with the settled ambient sounds of the promenade and the dark clouds building overhead.

*

The patriarch of the Walrus sat in the alley when Vane’s bike pulled up, where he could almost always be found before the happy hour rush began, his heavy form settled comfortably into the old bar chair they kept propped up against the wall. Hal Gates looked up with an unimpressed look, tired eyes peering over the reading glasses that sat on the tip of his nose to read the now forgotten copy of the week’s Brooklyn Daily Eagle that sat on his knee.  

“Bout fuckin’ time you got here,” he said flatly as he watched Vane park his bike with a laugh.

“Shoo I got five minutes n change, can’t fault me for that-” Vane paused to pull out his lighter, which had been in his front picket the whole time, and relight the cigar.

“You know damn well that’s not what I’m talking about you shit. You want to tell me whats got him in a fit this time?”

“Why should I know, boss?” Vane flashed him a sharp smile and climbed off the bike, grabbing his bag from the saddle box.

Gates sighed and pushed himself to his feet, tucking the newspaper under his arm. Vane had a couple inches on him sure, the cocksure attitude that drove some people to the edge, but Gates didn’t need to posture when he closed the space between them. Two steps across the alley and he hummed in tired amusement as Vane watched him expectantly.  

“Because,” Gates said simply, reaching up to take the cigar out of Vane’s mouth, “He’s looking for you.”

With a sharp smile of his own, Gates helped himself to the cigar and returned to his chair. Before Vane could make his no doubt clever remark, or at least follow up on the cigar stealing, the back door to the kitchen flew open.

“Ah, there he is, on cue-” Gates murmured, puffing at the cigar and going back to his paper.

“Now wait a goddamn-” Vane tried to say, as Flint came out of the open door like a wolf from a cage, grabbing him by the front of his shirt. The momentum of his movement had them stumbling backwards, Vane pushing back against him, the two of them half wrestling on their feet.

“Where the fuck is he?” Flint snarled. “Where- So help me Vane I will break your fucking jaw where is he-”

“Fuck is that gonna do- break my jaw ya cunt how is that gonna-”

“I know you’re a part of this Rackham can’t keep shit to himself-”

“Hey what’d I say about ya goin’ for Jackie-”

“Jackie can go to hell unless you tell me where the fuck he is!”

Flint managed to get his ankle around Vane’s, getting him off balance enough to shove him back against the alley wall. He kept one hand in Vane’s shirt while the other closed around Vane’s throat, threatening but not so tight that he couldn’t get the words out.

“Tell me,” he repeated.

“Get fucked.”

“I will make you talk so fucking help me Vane-”

Vane smiled, all top teeth, and pressed into the hand at his throat. “How ya gonna do that hm?”

Flint didn’t move forward, the way Vane’s goading invited him to. He could feel the slightest pressure of Vane’s hand against his stomach, it acted as a warning. Sure enough when he glanced down, Vane’s trusty old butterfly knife was resting against his shirt, the same empty threat as Flint’s hand around his throat. Vane held his gaze with a lazy, hungry smile that called Flint’s bluff with the satisfied smugness of a card shark. Flint hated him in moments like that, hated him deeply. It would have been so easy to tighten his hand and squeeze, but only if it were anyone else. Vane knew just how to make good use of that butterfly knife.

“If you two are quite finished stroking each other off,” Gates said after a moment, “I have a bar to run and happy hour starts in twenty minutes.”

It took a moment, but with a snarl and a huff, Flint shoved Vane against the wall and stormed back inside without another word, leaving Gates puffing at his cigar and watching Vane toy with his butterfly knife.

“So you want me on bar or-” Vane asked.

“Oh no, he will be on bar. He needs to be on a tight leash tonight and I will be holding it, thank you. You keep your head down and behave yourself on the line please or I’m calling Jackie.” Gates folded his paper and stood again, pushing his reading glasses onto his head and gently stubbing out the cigar to save the rest for later. “Do I even want to know what this is all about?”

“Silver’s back in town.”

Gates blinked, then sighed with a decade’s worth of resignation. “My personal twink from hell. Fantastic.”

He stopped Vane just inside the kitchen. “Don’t tell the boys. Not yet, not with Flint so keyed up about it and all. We don’t need it to be a bigger mess that it clearly already is.”

“Shoo, alrigh’ boss.”

“Go on with you then. I’ve got a hell-hound to keep in line tonight.”

Vane’s laughter followed him through the kitchen. Said hell-hound was braced against the darkest corner of the bar, staring into a glass of dark rum.

“Are we talking about this?” Gates asked.

Flint glared at him from the corner of his eye and knocked back the rum. He poured himself another drink and put the bottle away.

“Alright then. You’re on bar with me and Muldoon-” Gates held up a hand as Flint made to argue. “No. I don’t care. This is how it is, am I clear?”

The alternative was, as it was for every member of staff (Gates included) going home for the evening. If Flint went home he’d spend the night driving himself insane or worse, wandering the city, tapping into contacts and allies, trying to eliminate all place where Silver couldn’t be. If he was at their bar he could at least stay tethered to something that felt like reality, at least for now.

“We can talk it over after close tonight,” Gates added softly, resting a hand on Flint’s back, “Figure out a plan if you like. But you know you can’t be in the kitchen with your head in the past.”

After a pause and a slow deep breath, a bit of tension eased out of Flint’s shoulders.

“Fine.”

Gates rubbed his back for a moment. He grabbed the rum bottle again and topped off Flint’s drink, before pouring himself a matching glass. The bar was mostly empty, one high top occupied by someone with a beer and a book, a booth hosting a late lunch date, one regular nursing his aviation at the end of the bar. They could take a moment just the two of them.

“We’ll figure it out, Jamie,” Gates told him, knocking the glasses together. Flint nodded weakly and said nothing, taking up his glass, tapping it gently against the bar top, and downing it with ease.

Across the street, watching the foot traffic and cars pass the brick street front of the Walrus with its custom neon sign and myriad pride flags catching the growing winds, sat a busker. He was a familiar sight on the block, playing his bass guitar under the scaffolded walkway to whatever audience would stop to listen. As the sky opened up and people hid under the scaffolding, his audience grew for a time.

Amongst them, a young man with a camera who was as interested in the bar across the way as he was in the busker’s performance. Silver had to admit he was grateful for the cover, between it and the storm, not a soul from The Walrus, patron or crew, noticed him.

Yes it was risky, even with one of his casual get ups on (you’d be surprised how often people ignored trucker caps and hoodies), and no it wasn’t like he thought Vane or the others were lying.

He just needed to see it for himself, needed to see Flint’s retirement happily ever after with his own eyes for it to seem real. Or so he had thought.

Seeing it in that moment, seeing Flint slip out front for a moment and stand under the awning to have a smoke, his attention fixed wholly on the storm clouds overhead-

It didn’t help. It just sent him running back to Manhattan with his metaphorical tail between his legs.