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Best Tablet Repair Shop/Service Center in Dubai Sharjah - UAE
Professional Tablet Repair Services UAE. Get Battery, Screen, Speaker, Mic, Power Button, Water Damage Repair of Apple, Samsung, Lenovo, Acer
#tablet repairing#tablet service center#all brands tablet repairing#tablet servicing#https://www.f2fixing.com/tablet-repair-services-dubai-sharjah/
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Best Tablet Repair Shop/Service Center in Dubai Sharjah - UAE
https://www.f2fixing.com/tablet-repair-services-dubai-sharjah/
Professional Tablet Repair Services UAE. Get Battery, Screen, Speaker, Mic, Power Button, Water Damage Repair of Apple, Samsung, Lenovo, Acer
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Best Tablet Repair Shop/Service Center in Dubai Sharjah - UAEProfessional Tablet Repair Services UAE. Get Battery, Screen, Speaker, Mic, Power Button, Water Damage Repair of Apple, Samsung, Lenovo, Acertablet repairing, tablet service center, all brands tablet repairing, tablet servicing.
#tablet repairing in dubai and sharjah#tablet service center in dubai and sharjah#all brands tablet repairing in dubai and sharjah#tablet servicing in dubai and sharjah
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secret third option. snatch my cousin's barely functioning one for my cheapskate ass
I want to buy myself a drawing tablet. Or do I buy myself an actual tablet that can do Other Things Too? can afford both but my mind is going wah
#after knowing enough about hardware repairs (my life lmao) ive determined that#this tablet just needs a replacement cable and a new stylus#which is NOT expensive for this brand#so... im going all in on this boys#and its dirty but whatever. cleaning is free#mel's wins
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Hey! I appreciate your perspective on computer-based things. I think I need to get a laptop and would love your opinion on decent brands. If you don't have an opinion or want to answer please disregard the q.
Context: I'm often on the move and really want something small, light, and that will last a long time. I'm bad about buying new things or taking things to be fixed so ideally it's not something that dies quickly or needs frequent repairs. For a while I used an iPad for this but I need more of a keyboard than tablets have and the shelf life of an iPad is shorter than it should be for the cost. Mine is 7 years old and only works while plugged in... I liked my Macbook Pro I got for college but it's almost 15 years old and given I haven't needed a new one since I don't think spending all that on a Mac makes sense either. I use a gaming PC mostly but I'm going to need to travel a lot more in the upcoming year. I'm ok to spend up a bit since I want it to last.
I think you're going to have to adjust your expectations about the average functional lifespan of electronics. Seven years is a lot to get out of any tablet and fifteen years is way way way above average for a computer.
At work we estimate that the functional lifespan of a laptop will be around five years and the functional life of a desktop will be around seven years; we include upgrades in that lifespan, like adding RAM and storage.
It is not *unusual* to get more than five years out of a laptop or seven years out of a desktop, but if you are a heavy user of anything other than a browser and a word processor, that's about the time when you'll find that the computer feels slow enough to be frustrating. This isn't a hard limit, and it's not something that everyone experiences because people use computers differently, but if you're an artist and you use a drawing program that program will start to feel slow after a while because as updates and patches and drivers have been tweaked for newer devices they've slowly left your device in the dust.
This isn't planned obsolescence, by the way. Computer manufacturers try to "future proof" their devices to a certain extent, but you just can't anticipate certain kinds of changes. Maybe your laptop was manufactured before there were consumer SSDs available so its operating system doesn't take the advantages and limitations of SSDs into account. Maybe your desktop was built for DDR3 RAM and we're now on DDR5 and people aren't writing programs to the standard of the old technology, they're taking advantage of the standards of the new technology.
Since you were able to use your devices comfortably for such a long time, it sounds like you're not a very heavy user and don't need to worry too much about beefing up your specs. However it does sound like you want to keep your computer and use it as long as possible while paying a reasonable price for it (which is good! I think we should all try to extend the lives of our electronic devices as much as possible!).
I actually think you sound like a good match for a Framework laptop.
Framework is a company that makes laptops that are a lot more modular than what's on the market these days. They're mean to be easy to open up for upgrades and sturdy for heavy use. Most of the parts of the laptop are easily replaceable - including the screen - so you can use them for a long time and easily make upgrades that will help the computer feel fresher.
They're a bit more expensive than comparable PCs but much easier to repair if you aren't comfortable opening up your own computer (framework is intentionally built to be easy for people who are non-technical to work on their computers), and they are a LOT less expensive than comparable macs.
I still think you're probably looking at around 7 years of regular use out of a Framework and it won't *break* at that point, it will just. Probably be a bit slow and frustrating. You might not be able to get parts for it after a certain point. You eventually won't be able to upgrade the OS. But that's true of all computers.
I've still got my 2005 macbook. It still turns on, I can still use garage band on it. But it doesn't connect to the internet and uses such an old USB standard that it is extremely slow to transfer data on or off of and it cries and freezes if i try to use photoshop. It's not broken, it's just no longer useful as a daily computer.
What I'm defining as functional here is "Is able to run multiple programs (including at least one browser with 50+ tabs open and two office suites) at the same time for 8-10 hours a day without crashing, freezing, or losing data and restarting is not a major inconvenience."
In those terms, it does sound like you're probably in need of an upgrade (I can't imagine that your current machine is particularly quick) and I think that a framework laptop would suit your needs well.
If you're looking for something somewhat less expensive, you can generally find a decent thinkbook with a 12th or 13th gen i5 processor, 16GB RAM, and a 500GB SSD for around $700-ish, which is the low end of what I think you're going to pay for a decent laptop. I'm reccing lenovo here because I personally like them and have found them to be very easy to crack open for repairs and upgrades. Stick to the thinkbook over the thinkpad because that's the business line and is a bit sturdier and they are designed to be easier to upgrade over time.
Actually, here's a thinkbook with a 12th gen i5, 40GB RAM, and a 1tb SSD for under $700. That's a shockingly good price for that laptop; the reseller OEMGenuine is one I've purchased from many times before for work and I've found them to be reliable, though the reason those specs are so good is because they've added aftermarket parts, so your RAM and SSD won't be under warranty from Lenovo.
For Framework you're looking at at least $1000, but it's easy to plug and play with upgrades so you can start out with lower specs (except processor, don't cheap out on the processor) and upgrade later. The framework is a bit smaller and easier to travel with, but I have a laptop quite similar to the lenovo and it's not a huge pain to move around - it's very light but the 15" screen might be bigger than you're looking for.
If you're willing to spend a little bit more and you're very uninterested in doing your own upgrades and would prefer the most computer you can get for your money right out of the gate, this is a 12th gen i7 thinkpad with 40GB RAM and a 2TB SSD for $1150. (I've not ordered from this reseller before, so maybe check over their terms if you're considering purchasing from them.)
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1.
The cats were fighting, and Maggie was singing to them. It was Tater's birthday, apparently. How wonderful.
Shiv cracked her eyes open. The ceiling looked like shit: the paint was peeling, and there was some sort of stain spreading from one corner. The harsh morning light of the street lamps streamed into the room through the busted shade, casting crooked bars of shadow across the room.
The rest of the house looked worse than the ceiling. The cats had left scratches on everything they could reach, and time and neglect had left their marks on anything the cats couldn't. The furniture all looked out of place, collected over decades and haphazardly repaired.
From somewhere in the mismatched house, Maggie was babbling to her cats. "Come on, Candy. Share the fish with your brother. It's his birthday. Share the fish with the birthday baby!" Potato Chip's mournful wail filled the air, accompanied by the sound of chewing and a wary hiss.
Shiv sat up, wincing. She wrenched her head from side to side experimentally, to no avail. Rubbing her neck, she awkwardly swung her legs off the couch and stood up. Shiv picked her way over to the kitchen, for once managing not to stub her toe on the cabinet that protruded into the door frame.
"Morning, Mags."
Maggie jumped as Shiv spoke. "Oh, good morning! I made coffee." Maggie was fucking old. Her eyes were older than Shiv: they were some vintage shit, with protruding lenses that stopped her eyelids from properly closing. An awful little part of Shiv figured their value was somewhere in the neighborhood of 10 grand from an avid collector.
"Where'd you get the fish?" Shiv took a mug off its hook and poured herself some lukewarm coffee. The slogan on the side of the mug demanded silence, at least until the bearer had finished their name-brand coffee. The winking face of a defunct coffee logo grinned up at her as she took a sip.
"A trader's in town, just for the day. Some sort of pilgrim."
"Anything else good?"
"Protein bars, holy symbols, ID chips, and..." she looked around, as if Shiv hadn't swept the place for bugs last week, and dropped her voice. "...ammunition. No guns."
"What did you give him?"
"Some of the kitchen knives."
"You gave him knives for a fish?"
Maggie wrung her leathery hands nervously. "It's Potato Chip's birthday! Besides, they were getting dull."
"You have a whetstone!"
"I don't know how to use it right, and you..." she trailed off, but couldn't stop the glassy lenses of her eyes from flickering to Shiv's shoulder. Or rather, to where her shoulder used to be. Maggie swallowed, her gaudily-dyed hair bobbing in distress.
"I could have taught you! And Tater didn't even get to eat his fish." A contented Candy Bar wound her way about Maggie's legs, purring. Maggie opened and closed her mouth a few times, but said nothing.
Shiv wordlessly grabbed her bag off the couch. It still smelled like the factory that made it, even after a month. Much as it irked her to waste money–she’d already owned a perfectly serviceable bag–this one had velcro. Zippers were too much trouble these days.
She tore it open to behold the extent of her worldly possessions. A change of clothes. Her knife, the one Raz had given her. Rope. A pack of bandages. Disinfectant. Four days of nutrient bars. A wallet, empty save for a credit card and a few coins. A well-worn prayer tablet. A needle and a spool of thread. A ballpoint pen. Content that everything was where it should be, she closed the bag.
Shiv swung her bag over her good shoulder, then fumbled with the doorknob for a moment, nearly dropping her mug. Maggie took half a step forward as if to help, but whatever she saw in Shiv's eyes kept her rooted in place. Shiv pulled the hood of her coat up over her head, and turned to leave. "I… Sorry. I'm going out. Be back by midnight unless I get shot."
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TECHY Naples Marco Island - inside Walmart
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January 19, 2024
Think I might have to switch my program to computer engineering because I literally just replaced the battery of my own laptop after being afraid of doing so for four years?!?!?! For the past five years I've been able to get away with creative ways to not bring my unwieldy laptop anywhere because the battery couldn't hold a charge without the being plugged in (my fault tbh). Probably can't do that this semester with a coding class and a bio class with a coding project (might've been able to get away with it (and I'm definitely still going to try because a tablet is loads lighter than this beast) but was hesitant to chance it). Checked with a local repair shop, and they told me they'd have to send it away for two weeks for $150-200 (classes start in three days). Chatted with my parents, ended up buying a battery for a fifth of the price and replacing it myself. And it's holding a charge BEAUTIFULLY. Or, at least, better than that old shriveled up thing that'd last five minutes or less. I'm so proud of myself. And I know it was a relatively simply fix, but I've spent years being confused about computers and deciding that it wasn't important for me to understand. Well, this semester I'm going to make progress toward not being afraid of computers anymore. (And, sometimes, procrastination is the mother of massive savings, cha-ching.)
Today I'm thankful for Coloupop and NYX for being both affordable and decent quality brands. Esp colourpop, bc I have finally found a replacement for an old old old old pot of highlight that I adored for years and used to use for my inner corner but lost in the move. It goes on sheer (if I use a light hand), lasts all day, and doesn't irritate my eyes at all. In love.
Also thankful for a productive week in lab. I learned a lot! I did a lot (not a ton, but more than I had during the semester)! They were mostly half days but I think that was good for getting acclimated to the various spaces and such.
I have 150 pages of s c i e n c e to read before wednesday :))))) i sure hope darwin was a good writer
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Smart Fix Castleblayney
Address: Main St, Connabury, Castleblayney, Co. Monaghan, A75 X786, Ireland
Ph: +353 42 975 3712
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Our skilled technicians at Smart Fix Castleblaney are well-equipped to handle a myriad of repairs for your devices. From cracked screens and battery replacements to intricate motherboard repairs, we ensure your gadgets are in expert hands. We pride ourselves on offering efficient and reliable services, striving to bring your devices back to their optimal functionality.
Whether you're dealing with a malfunctioning iPhone, a slow-performing MacBook, or a damaged gaming console, Smart Fix Castleblaney has the expertise to diagnose and remedy the issue. Our commitment extends beyond repairs; we also offer a curated selection of high-quality devices for sale, including the latest models and reliable pre-owned options.
At Smart Fix Castleblaney, we understand the importance of your tech devices in your daily life, and we are dedicated to providing swift, affordable, and effective solutions. Visit us for all your mobile phone, laptop, tablet, iPad, MacBook, and game console needs – we're here to keep you connected and your devices running smoothly.
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The bright glowing lights of The Freddy Fazbear Pizzaplex beamed down on your face as you stood outside of your car in the packed parking lot of the building. From outside of the concrete walls you could just barely hear the low thrumming bass and speakers, most likely coming from the infamous glam rock band. From the outside the parking lot was filled with cars, some parents exiting with sad or disappointed kids, not ready to leave the fun, or others bringing in the kids for late night fun, cheers, and smiles nonetheless on everyone's face. That was to be expected though, especially with such a popular franchise like this. Yet here you were, uniform on, and cap set firmly on your head that read “mechanic” in neat stitching. The uniform wasn’t much, turquoise shirt, black cargo pants, some beat-up Converse you got as a high school graduation gift, your iconic gray sweater, and a limited edition Monty Gator bookbag.
A courtesy gift from your managers.
Seeing as you were one of the few mechanics that happened to work there, and only recently began working there for a few weeks, they saw it as a “Welcoming gift, for the newest member of the Fazbear family.” The job wasn’t complicated either, not that you ever had to do anything too serious. Mostly consisting of taking care of short circuits with lights, faulty arcade machines, and some minor repairs on staff bots, such as map bots, or the security, even the cute little mop bots. Not that you weren’t qualified to handle working on the main crew, it’s just that it just so happened to be quite rare that any of them got into a situation in need of such repairs. The biggest thing you’ve ever had to do was give them some minor software updates. Even then it wasn't serious enough to have to check them out, simply just a few clicks on a tablet, a few minutes of waiting and you were done. Not only that but there were also other mechanics, so you’ve only ever spoken to one of the animatronics twice, that being Monty.
Your nose scrunched up at the memory, walking through the sliding glass doors pulling your work badge out, and scanning it across the gate reader, allowing passage through the blockers. Despite your liking for the gator’s design and brand in general, you found his actual personality to be one of a struggle to be around. His presence could get pretty intense. Both times filled with silence, as he glared down at you, as if helping upload his newest updates was an inconvenience to him. Whoever coded “I’m a prick program” into robots had one hell of a sense of humor. And not one you particularly enjoyed when he growled at the sight of you trying to start a conversation. Scoffing and mumbling to yourself, maneuvering through the crowd of parents and running children, you caught sight of the main gang on stage, performing their hearts out. Or lack thereof.
You had to admit. Seeing them up there at all was amazing. It even made you stop in your tracks as you smiled while watching, eyes never leaving the stage as you continued walking slowly only to run into a hard surface. Looking up at your obstacle, you saw it was not, in fact, anyone, but Mapbot. It stared at you with beady eyes as you stared back, an awkward chuckle bubbling up in your throat as you gave small finger guns.
“Heeyy,,,uh,,you…Sorry for uh, bumping into you” You got no response as he stared on in silence, You groaned mentally at yourself. As people passing by gave you odd glances. “Cool,,,see you later map bot,,” You coughed as you continued on with your journey to parts and service. Where you spend the majority of your time here, as management will send in text, leaving the list of what end up needing repairs, and where to get spare parts for it” Sighing as you sped walked to your destination, soon the loud music was unhearable as you made your way through rockstar row, the soft jazz theme playing over the speaker, soon to become muffled as you made a left, opening the big gray metal doors, in dull and worn out stickers saying “EMPLOYEE’S ONLY”. Pushing open the door with a small grunt, you huffed face grimacing once again.
You always hated this hallway. The walls were painted a dull red, and the lights flickered, the air smelled of musk and a light dusk, the soft buzz of fluorescent lights ahead behind heard. Your feet echoed with every step you took, as you looked around the dark hallway. It’s not the usual you’d ever truly see something new but it never made it any less of a disturbing area.
Though today didn't seem to be the case.
You paused as you looked into the dark part of the hallway where the light did not reach, as one of the bulbs had gone out a few weeks back. Your steps falter at the gleaming red glowing eyes peeking at you. You took a step back with a soft gasp, clutching onto your phone flashlight quickly to turn it on. There staring up at you happened to be a floor sign bot. His poor eye lights hanging on by wires, and a few shoe print indents on his torso part? At least you always assumed it was a torso. The sign bots were cute, always reminding you of Wall-E.
Sighing softly you walked closer patting his head, having to bend down slightly to do so. ���Come on, let’s get you fixed up, yeah?” Despite being used to some robots roaming around the maintenance room, it never stopped giving you a good old spook. Perhaps it was just the ambiance and how ominously quiet the place was. The small whirs of the bot bought you out of thought, as you watched its cameras zoom in and out on you, seemingly struggling to focus, before turning slowly and going back down the hallway and into the open door space, where a soft light lay around the corner, before running into the wall with a soft thud though.
You cringed softly, following with haste, rounding the corner and scanning the room. Today consisted of two staff bots, the poor partially blind sign bot, and the frequent regular raceway bot. Setting your bag down on the small desk in the corner you sat in your swivel chair, spinning in it until you slowed to a stop. All four bots staring at you.
“We can do our routine, finish up with you guys, I work on the arcade and check the systems to send out any updates management may have sent me” Not that you ever truly expected an actual response seeing as the staff bots didn't have as much, free range with vocabulary as the other animatronics, other than a few pre-recorded line, it never stopped you from talking to them. Even if they were robots, they did make it seem as if they were listening. Now that you think about it, the lack of vocalization may be due to how expensive it would’ve been. It kills you to even remember that the four main animatronics were worth millions, maybe even literal billions of dollars. Animatronics that would be worth more than you'd ever have in your bank account, if not in one but maybe even THREE lifetimes.
So one by one, each animatronic was updated, adjusted, fixed, and with the use of the electric teakettle you used to boil water in, and a hefty plunger from the convenience store to get big dents out, each one was slowly finished. Usually, when done they helped clean up a bit before leaving, whether it be sweeping, or handing you tools, you always appreciated the extra help, so it was no surprise to you when a staff bot stayed to sweep. Rolling your office chair, (which had a wheel missing) You laid your screwdriver and electrical tape across your lap as you peeked down at the eyeless sign bot. With a squint you noticed the wires sparking, well that was no good. Looking closer they appear like they’ve been yanked right from the socket. Frowning, you gently reached your hand inside, before yanking it back quickly with a yelp.
Right.
Gloves.
Rolling your chair over to the desk and grabbing your gloves putting them on, only after grimacing at the slight throbbing in your hand before shaking your head loose of the thoughts. Reaching into the socket once more you ever so carefully removed and disconnected the wires from the metal plate inside the small eye lights and began inspecting them. They are entirely busted and need new ones. Sliding the chair back over to the box, you tried not to let out an almost guilty ‘awh’ watching as the poor thing started to spin in circles, cameras rapidly trying to get its vision to focus.
Usually, when bots needed extra pieces and parts they stayed stored under a big cardboard box filled with spare pieces from scrapped bots. Pulling the box out, you rummaged through, in search of new light pieces, but sadly come up short. With a frown, you rummaged more even dumping out some pieces still coming up with nothing. Eyebrows furrowed together, and with a small huff, you looked around in question of what’d you do. Feeling the stare of the staff bot that stayed to help you look up.
“Here at Fazbear Entertainment, we take pride in helping families, customers, and employees. If you ever need assistance please let us know” The generic voice crackled from his voice box. You know they tried and even wanted to communicate, yet they were stuck with only a few lines. Giving a small smile you held up the eye light.
“Know where I can get any more of these?” The robot stared at you as blankly as ever, a long pause before slowly turning on his wheels, eyes never leaving you as he began down the hallway.
“Please follow me.” He called from the hallway. Hopping up, you sat down the old eye lights and patted the mop bot's head. Despite getting startled you still mummer a small ‘be right back.’, as you continued down to follow the staff bot, which honestly can move pretty fast for wheels and carpet, always having you have to do a semi-sprint or speed walk just to keep up. Opening the doors, it looked around before leading you down to the main hall where the crowds and families were, children, running around. The music stopped, other than the normal overhead music that resonated from the speakers, so it must be the animatronics time to hang out in their attractions. Leading you up the escalator, onto the second floor, you find yourselves soon approaching the back, into an elevator. Stepping inside you looked around it. Wasn’t big, but wasn’t too small to where you felt cramped, just enough for a family of five to be honest. The lights flickered a bit overhead, probably something that they would have you fix later.
Clicking the “level 0” button, the bot waited in silence. Messing with the strings of your jacket you tried your best to not feel so awkward. The elevator soon began to move, with a small rumble before it began its retreat down. The elevator music played through the speaker, the noise sounding very similar to the tune that played in Rockstar’s Way, yet softer and had a bit of a twinkle to it.
At the last bit, the lights began to flicker again, the elevator shaking and rumbling loudly. With a gasp, you held onto the wall rail for support as it screeched to a stop, dinging as the doors slowly forced open with an eerie creek. Glancing at the supposedly unbothered staff bot, who happened to be looking at you with expectancy, you slowly began stepping out of the metal shaft, looking around your new surroundings. Squinting, you reached for your phone, turning it on, eyes focusing on the dust that flew around. The air smelled like must, and there was a cold chill that overcame you. Shuddering you zipped up your jacket with a small huff as you looked around only to notice you lost sight of the staff bot.
The sound of the elevator door shutting resonated from behind you.
“H-hey wait a minute” You reached out sprinting back to the door but it had already closed. Huffing as you watched it go back up you groaned as you looked around. It didn't even tell you the directions of the place you were supposed to be going in. Aiming the flashlight at your surroundings you decided the best option would just be to wait for the elevator to come back down. Leaning against the wall you folded your arms closing your eyes.
Your moment's silence was short-lived, a thud further down the hall, echoing through the darkness. Brows furrowed as you opened your eyes, and a few more thuds followed, with the sounds of whirring and clicking. Looking around, you aimed your flashlight back down the hallway to your left. Nothing. Maybe it was old rafters or shelves falling? The establishment appeared to be much older than the higher main levels showed. Though more thuds were repeated, more mechanical whirrs were heard. Your lips tugged downwards as you glanced at the elevator. It wouldn’t hurt to take just a quick check right? Sighing you began to tread forward, your footsteps echoing and patterning through the halls, which happened to have assortments of dusty boxes and shelves of mechanical parts, Some were large crates labeled “Item: endoskeleton Quantity:1”
Even the thought that they had so many robots they may have shipped out or how many more they may be making made you shudder. Despite being used to working with robots, you always found the exoskeleton or the insides to be a bit disturbing. Shaking your head, you continued down the hallway, before finding one of the sources. There on the floor lay an overturned box, many actually that looked scurried through and desperately searched. Claw marks on the side of the cardboard, the insides being spilled out of batteries, flashlights, old lamps, and other random junk are thrown into the box like old merch and sticker packs. Looking around with furrowed brows you continued onwards, following the trails of overturned ransacked boxes. There could be an animal down there. Frowning, you looked around for an item just in case you were to come across some rabid animal, may it be raccoons or dogs who knows. Seeing another dusty merch item, you ripped the tag off of a “Let’s Eat!” Chica pinata bat, and get a firm grip in your hands by doing a few test swings.
Alright, you could handle this. Just some animal. Nothing to worry about. You got this. Continuing down, quieting your footsteps, your eyes squinted at the sight of light, crouching behind a crate you noticed a light-emitting on the wall opposite of the corner, showing off a shadow, it appeared to be a hunched-over figure, rummaging through things. Maybe it was a little raccoon. Sighing and letting out a shaky breath you began to round the corner though what you saw was no animal. Your face paled as you took several steps back. A large, very large figure was rummaging through a box, multiple lamps, and lit flashlights in the area, it was a robot by the sight of most of its exoskeleton showing, accompanied by the whirring clicks of its fingers or well, the fingers of the hand it had, the other arm hung low only hanging on by a few wires, although the paint was faded and chipped, you were sure it was a bright yellow, red and yellow striped yet torn pants, the chassis missing, and left leg exposed, it's yellow encasing nowhere in sight, though the most terrifying? The face, what you assumed or where you assumed the face plate should be was void, the inside just being a mess of wars, and yet, white eyes with glowing red pin[pricks were there, sharp teeth from the mouth of the exoskeleton twitched and jerked, with triangular shaped pieces spun and moved in and out of the face plate. They almost reminded you of the sun rays, although a few seemed missing. The whirring and clicking stopped as it turned to you.
Mouth open agape you stumbled back at what stood before you, seeming as if about to approach and reach for you, you let out a scream, clutching your bat tighter as you began to run. You could hear the clunking of metal on concrete alerting you of the giant animatronic chasing you down. Pushing boxes and crates down in an attempt to slow it down you ran back to the elevator as fast as you could, heart beating in your chest as the clunking approached faster. Clicking rapidly on the elevator button your face paled more at the sight of it crawling. Yes crawling on the walls to reach you, torso twisted normally, with backward legs all clicking and moving rapidly as it approached. Luckily enough for you, the elevator opened as it struggled around the boxes. Pushing into the door you were quick to click the close elevator door button. The lights flickered on the inside as you backed away from the door, breathing rapidly as you clutched your sleeves listening silently.
There was no movement, no clicking, no whirring. Sighing as you desperately tried to catch your breath you slid down to the floor, sighing as you stared at the small window of the elevator. Only to instantly recoil with a scream as it pressed its face against the glass, sunrays have shrunken as its sharp exposed hand clawed against the window, leaving deep scratch marks on it.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
It was tapping on the glass. Crawling as far back as you could from the glass, you watched it with jerky movements tilt its head at you tapping the glass before slamming a fist at the glass. Before you saw its mouth moving. A static ear-splitting sound resonated from its voice box. None of the words that left its mouth sounded anything remotely human-like. All filled with static and garbled sentences. Tilting its head the other way you glanced at the glass before looking at the buttons, smashing in the level 3 button as fast as you could. A growled-out hiss emitted from it as the elevator began to rise.
“What, the actual, fuck..”
You never got around to finishing that poor mop bot's eyes. After repairing everything else you needed for the night, your eyes could only feel heavy, your mind clouded with paranoia. Even when clocking out, scanning your ID, and leaving the pizza plex, all you could think about was the mutilated bot that lay collecting dust and rotting in the basement. It took you a few minutes before pulling off, maybe 30 minutes, maybe even an hour before the realization of what happened could fully sink in.
Upon arriving home you set down your bag and sat on the couch, taking off your hat. Your hat, that was normally on your head. Frowning with a groan at the realization you tiredly rubbed your hands across your face. You dropped your hat while running from that thing. You were no stranger to the Fazbears company's lack of care for some things, sure the carpet was mysteriously and grossly sticky, or maybe a few minor hazards that can be overlooked, but a giant seven-foot, busted-up animatronic? That they stuffed in some dark musty basement? That’s messed up, even for them. Groaning you pinched the bridge of your nose. Was it even safe to have guests walking around with that thing down the stairs?
Kicking off your shoes you let out another deep sigh running a hand over your eyes. Not to mention that mop bot is just sitting there in the dark where he probably can't see squat. Not to mention the heavy feeling that weighed on your eyes. Shrugging off your jacket, with another groan you dragged yourself to your bedroom where you redressed into some comfy pajamas and climbed into bed. Yet, you just couldn’t find yourself sleeping. Your eyes were focused on the ceiling fan, which you kept on the lowest setting just to keep you from overheating through the night. You frowned. Maybe, you overreacted. Of course, there were bound to be misshapen robots or rundown ones. It didn’t take a genius to notice the rundown line of mini music men that ran through the vents. You could always hear their small symbols or feet tippy tapping in the walls and air vents, but a whole robot?
Your eyebrow quivered as you remembered what had happened. The feeling makes your heart race as it felt you have only just experienced it. Its image came into your mind as your fingers fiddled with your blankets. It almost looked like something was trying to tear it apart. Or well, had. There's no way rot or that much time could do that much damage, sure Maybe a few loose screws and tight joints here and there, even dulled faded, or scratched paint, hell you’d even understand a few cracks in the material or dents, but full on torn to shreds? Even the clothing it wore looked like it had been torn off. The more you think about it, the more you think about how distressed it had seemed. Despite its lack of a faceplate you still found yourself getting an uncomfortable pit in your stomach.
Not to mention. You were a mechanic. You were supposed to help with these kinds of things. Even so, your human emotion overrides all. It was only natural to be scared. That thing looked utterly terrifying. Puffing out a small breath you turned over on your side, biting at the nail on your thumb, your brain wracking and storming with thoughts. It’s not like you couldn’t go back there. You had your hat down there, and the eye peace you needed. Maybe, that was something management needed fixing. You glanced at your phone that lay on the nightstand with drawn brows. Then again, that robot had no appearance like any staff bot you’ve seen. The model was too intricate and the movements a little too flexible and fluid for you to even comprehend, with your knowledge at that. As far as you knew, that machine had full fluid motions over all of its body parts based on the awkward crawling back bend it displayed.
Huffing with a sigh you pulled your pillow over your head in thought. Okay, new plan. Email management in the morning, complete tasks, and get your hat and those eye covers for the mop bot. Nodding in confirmation, you let your eyelids flutter close, which took no time for you to sleep. Before you knew it there you lay, soundly sleeping through the night.
#moondrop#sundrop#eclipse..drop?#sun#moon#eclipse#fnafsb#fnaf#my writing#a sol e luna#fnaf sb fic#dca
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Snapdragon's
“Are you sure about this?” she asks skeptically.
“We’ll be OK, I promise.” In truth, he didn’t know if it was safe. He’d been second-guessing himself since they entered the mountain. But he had faith in where they were going. He looks down once more at the strip of paper in front of him. An address he can barely make out, with a very clear drawing of a flower taking up half the page.
The couple works their way through the district’s winding streets and alleys. Being built, quite literally, inside the mountain, the district grew darker and darker as they ventured further. Flashing neon signs and halogen lights abound, the locals too poor to afford the holographic displays seen downtown. A few storefronts are entirely candlelit. Signs outside the buildings are written in many alien scripts, a stark contrast to the Three Universals seen downtown.
This mountain, located on the outskirts of a bustling spaceport city, falls into a legal loophole which landowners took advantage of to create extremely low-rent housing. In the years since, the district has housed all manner of creature and culture from across the stars. Locals aren’t dressed in the business suits and flashy garb of the tourists. They wear their native clothes in varying states of dishevelment. They speak their native tongues, sell the wares they made on their home planets, and pray to their own gods and divinities. They go about their daily business - but not without commotion.
A catfolk vendor and a rocklike customer argue over the sale of a melon. They speak in a language neither of our couple understands, though the lady can make out a few swears here and there. Frustrated, the customer smashes the melon on the ground. The vendor screams and leaps out at the customer, claws exposed. Further down, a huge amoeba purchases groceries from a six-armed grocer, absorbing the produce in vacuoles and carrying on. A crab-like creature with a broken leg plays an erhu for tips. A ferocious sculpture is repaired by an avian outside a temple, resembling something like a cross between Jesus, an octopus, and a twelve-armed bloodthirsty warlord.
The two search the crowds and storefronts for the flower, but can’t find it anywhere. Florists, grocers, co-op gardens, even clothing stores and wallpaper prints. None of them have that exact flower. They ask any and all locals they run into for directions. Of the ones they talk to, none of them seem to recognize it - not the writing, nor the design inside.
But they didn’t let the city pass them by. The two also used the chance to explore the district’s exotic amenities, to have a little fun in-between. They stopped for beverages at a stall and watched a worm drummer’s performance (which had been going on for five days prior). They spent some credits at a dance-machine with options for up to eight limbs. They stopped by an arcade and, mesmerized, watched a molluscan play Tetris for… much longer than they should have. They skimmed the various shops of the district, even if they couldn’t make out most of the signs and prices. Small trinkets of varying toxicity and beauty here and there, books and tablets and drives of any and all knowledge, knock-off brands alongside relics - and, of course, folks peddling them at each and every corner.
“Buy some alum-venom! Fresh alum-venom!” A naga merchant peddles the couple in a raspy voice, flashing a brown vial in their faces. “Does wonders to a mammal’s skin!”
“Isn’t that stuff toxic?”, she responds.
The snake vendor hisses, and the couple hurry out of the vendor’s reach, clasping each other’s hands and running for dear life.
❦
Now out of sight of the vendor, the two end up lost. This part of the district is dark and damp, and nobody else seems to be present. They see a series of pools, water filling them from the ceiling and draining below. The fun and joviality they experienced not too long ago now fills with a lingering sense of unease.
“Maybe we should ask someone for directions,” she says.
Reluctantly, he obliges. They keep walking until they spot a storefront with someone sleeping outside. It’s a stout figure, wearing an officer’s cap, bearing two turquoise arms and legs attached to a turtle-like shell. Underneath the cap is a single shut eye the size of a basketball.
“Entschuldigung?” He cycles through a few more languages before the figure acknowledges. “Excuse me, sir?”
The eye opens, and the figure awakes. The eye rises from the shell, revealing a mouth and a neck that slowly extend to a height nearly twice that of the lovers. A low-pitched gurgle resounds from the figure’s shell.
Our Romeo gulps, swallowing his fear.
His Juliet gasps, but stands her ground.
The figure’s eye wanders for a minute before spotting the couple. The figure gurgles once more, then speaks. “Oh! Yes. Sorry. Forgot I was on dry land. Can I help you?” Its voice is shrill and hoarse, like an out-of-tune violin.
He composes himself. “I need help finding this address. Do you know where it is?”
The figure bends its neck and reads his page. “Yes, I know where this is.” It thinks for a minute, then motions its nightstick to its left. “Go down that alley a few blocks. Take the staircase up…” it counts on its fingers “…four levels. You’ll see a store with votive candles directly to your right. Go right and continue that way until the lights turn blue.”
He takes a minute to note the directions in his head. “Thank you, sir.”
“Anytime.” The figure gets up from its seat, gurgling, and descends into a nearby pool. As it submerges, the gurgling turns into the baritone humming of a foreign tune.
❦
After taking the (surprisingly long) staircase up and walking past the votive candle shop (made from skulls), the two end up in a small back-alley filled with rugged housing. A couple of the streetlights are out. There isn’t a single flowerbed or touch of green anywhere. “This is supposed to be the place.”
The two of them look around for any signs of the flower, but the badly lit corridor makes figures hard to discern. Dejected, they turn around to look for someone to help them. Due to the dim lighting, she trips on a loose stone in the road, and he leaps on the ground to break her fall. Tending her wound, he spots something out of the corner of his eye. It’s a sign. There’s nothing written on it, just a graphic hidden under a dead streetlight. He approaches the sign. It’s got that same drawing of the flower on it.
“This is it! This has to be the place!”
She walks over to the sign. “Are you sure this is it?”
“It has to be.”
“But are you sure this is the place?”
There’s a moment of tense silence. “No.”
A wooden door with a doorhole sits next to the sign. He knocks on it thrice. They await a response.
The doorhole opens. Two steely eyes stare from it.
“Hi, I was invited here by a friend?” He puts the paper in view of the doorhole. “This is Gabriel Lennox.”
The figure reads the paper. “Ah, yes, we’ve been expecting you. Come in.”
The door opens, revealing an ashen-skinned waiter with cobalt hair and two ram-like horns. They enter the building and find themselves directly beside a kitchen. “This is the staff entrance. I’ll take you to the host.”
The kitchen itself seems as diverse and bustling as the rest of the district. An elephantine sous-chef prowls the kitchen, keeping it running like a well-oiled machine. Actually, ‘well-oiled machine’ isn’t a bad analogy for the rest of the restaurant, either. Giant cogwheels, some moving, some stationary, line the walls and make up some of the chairs. Steam can be seen emanating from pipes in and out of the kitchen. The whole place is lit in warm colors. Unlike the rest of the district, the fact you’re inside a mountain is made very well known here. The walls proudly display their stony texture, with a few ores exposed here and there for decorative effect.
The group travels upstairs. The air seems to be easier to breathe now. More tables are visible, some already being seated. The waiter leaves them on a platform near a giant axle in the center of the place. The axle rises from a rather large hole in the ground, burning embers lying many meters below. The hole is stagnant at first. Then, a gust of hot air emerges, sparks from a newly lit fire below barely missing the couple’s feet. Seconds later, a dragon emerges. The girl is horrified; the boy grips her hand and the two take a huge step back.
“Hey, you made it!” The dragon speaks in a surprisingly soft, almost comical voice. “Welcome to Snapdragon’s. It’s great seeing you again, Gabriel.”
“You know this dragon?”, she asks Gabriel.
“We go back a bit.”
The dragon turns to her. “Ah, this must be your ladyfriend. What’s your name?”
“Ruby,” she responds hesitantly.
“Pleasure to meet you.” The dragon whips his tail around and slowly places its tip in front of her. “Don’t worry, it’s prehensile.”
She stands there, a little bewildered. Gabriel motions for Ruby to shake it like a hand. She does, and the dragon smiles.
“I’ll take you to your seats. I saved the best in the house for you two.”
The dragon walks them further through the restaurant. The place is surprisingly spacious, and the dragon isn’t too large - about the size of a minivan - so he walks ahead of them with little discomfort.
Gabriel and the dragon do a little catching up, while Ruby follows and takes in the scenery. She notices a piano played by an octopus-like creature in the distance, playing a calming and somewhat jazzy tune. A shadowy, almost fluid character stands by with a saxophone in hand. Parties made of smoke and scale, fur and feather, plasma and precious gem, sit at the other tables dressed in their best. She sees old friends re-uniting, family junctions, business dinners, and other couples out enjoying themselves.
“I got this whole place for cheap”, the dragon says. “It used to be a warehouse. The company folded a while ago and left some of their machinery behind. A dozen weeks later, I refashioned it all into Snapdragon’s.”
“Why a restaurant? In this part of the port, nonetheless?”
“Same reason as everyone else. The rent’s cheaper. The neighborhood is… variable, sure. But you can prosper here in a way you can’t downtown. You’re not under the microscope.”
“How’s it working out for you?”
“Pretty well so far. But, you know how restaurants are. Most of them close within three years of opening. Very few survive more than ten.”
“Have you tried advertising the place?”
The dragon scoffs. “I’m not the best at advertising, but we seem to do alright with the word-of-mouth we get.”
“Could you have made the invitation a little less cryptic, at least?” Gabriel laughs a little saying this.
“Yes, I suppose I could’ve. But then it wouldn’t have been as fun for you two to find.”
The dragon turns to look directly at Gabriel. Gabriel can see anguish in the dragon’s eyes, betraying the smile just below. He’s covered in a number of obscured bruises. The dragon’s voice softens further, and he moves in closer. ”I’ve lost a lot these past few years.” He looks to his side, then sighs. “A lot of things have gone wrong. Things I’d rather not think about. Things that keep me up at night. You’ve seen sides of me I’m not proud of.
“But through it all, you’ve been there. You’ve always been a shoulder to cry on, someone to look forward to talking with.
”There’s an old Earthlander saying: ‘Friends are like the stars; you can’t always see them, but they’re always there.’ I’d like to think that holds true with you. Our friendship has changed, but I’m glad to have it.
”You’ve done more for me than you can imagine. Now,” the dragon says, motioning to the balcony, “it’s time for me to repay the favor.”
The couple ascends the staircase to the balcony, and the dragon readies their table. Ruby and Gabriel take their seats, and are taken aback by the view. As it turns out, this warehouse was built close to the surface of the mountain. Our dragon friend broke through part of it and made a balcony with a view of the entire spaceport caldera. The digital and holographic displays of downtown turn into brilliant pastels on an otherworldly canvas. High-rises soar and show their lustrous designs. Even the advertisements, once a pedestrian’s eyesore, now seem like gentle brushstrokes of some greater beatific mural. Spaceships can be seen flying through the sky, reduced to the size of birds by their distance. And encapsulating it all are the other mountains of the caldera, rising like Fuji over the Tokyo horizon, painted shades of pink and purple by the setting sun’s light.
The couple is entranced by the view. Ruby reaches her hand across the table toward Gabriel’s. He notices, and reciprocates. The two’s eyes catch, and they both smile at each other in a way only lovers can. They turn once more to the landscape before them, taking it all in.
It was their landscape now. Theirs to share, theirs to enjoy.
❦FIN❦
I wrote this story a few months back as a gift for a friend. You can see it with some (temporary) assets and custom formatting on my website.
#short fiction#short story#original story#science fiction#sci fi#science fantasy#spaceport caspar#ræl's writings#ræl's artwork
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