#beetle armoire

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Carved beetle armoire.

yankodesign.com

[ambiguouspuzuma]

War and Peas

She was a princess, not a ghost, although at times it could be difficult to tell. That was how it felt at night, for instance, when her face hung like a second moon aglow above the candlelight; or indeed during the morning, when she seemed to fade against the coming of the dawn; or perhaps at noon, when the midday sun seemed to stream on through her without pause, and she left but the merest smudge of shadow in her wake.

Viscount Sethorzy was fascinated. He had agreed to their match out of a sort of absent-minded acknowledgement of duty, in the way one might vaguely concede that a room needed cleaning without any firm plan to do anything about it, leaving the specifics to be worked out by future people later down the line. He had been planning to spend the bulk of their marriage, as he had his bachelorhood, with his beetles - but the Princess Alessia had been a revelation.

She was the fairest in the land, as any mirror would attest, enchanted or otherwise. Not just in her beauty - ethereal though it was - but in her pallor, which bore the perfection of untouched snow, as if the world had not yet smudged her with its fingerprints. Her skin was impossibly pale, almost translucent, like the lace of the curtains - the finest silk, the mist that rolled over the forest pines. It was like the cast shed by a person who was whole.

The Viscount was used to a gentle approach. Many of his specimens were fragile: the film of an iridescent wing, the glinting of a tiny compound eye. He wore special gloves, used special tools when he dissected, with magnifying lens and a miniature surgeon's kit. But for the Princess, even a light touch seemed to be too much. She flinched when he took her hand, even for the most perfunctory of kisses. She carried herself as if every step was agony, imagining caltrops on his smooth marble floors.

Even her clothing was impossibly light, as insubstantial as her skin. She wore a gown of isinglass lace, a patchwork of see-through silken scales with only the merest hint of thread to bind them into one. She floated like a phantom across his hall, a morning mist in human form, and the Viscount couldn't help but be entranced. There was something so captivating in that frogspawn fragility, the sense that an contact could melt her like snow. She had refused to touch him, and yet he found that he was firmly in her grasp.

He had furnished her rooms for a princess, as if adapting a terrarium to display his latest find. Four-poster bed. Armoire. Vanity. He left others to pick the fittings out, having been told what she might need, with less interest than when selecting pine chippings or a stretch of rotting bark that might be used for shelter, less used to keeping people than invertebrates. They'd put her in the East Wing, above the stables: separate and yet joined to the main building. She would want privacy, at first, he'd been told. That had been absolutely fine with him.

But even from that low bar of understanding, Princess Alessia was not at all what he'd expected. She did not take well to the rooms built for a princess: when he called to visit her the next morning, she was visibly bruised, a hint of red onion under the silverskin, the marks of a day's ride roughshod and bareback over cobbled streets. She would only complain of nightmares, suspecting she had done it to herself: but the Viscount could hear the mares that danced beneath her sleeping form, and feel the slightest of vibrations in the walls. He was determined to prove otherwise.

Viscount Sethorzy had always been noted for his enquiring mind; a longstanding patron of the sciences, and patroniser of his less enlightened vassals. Until now, his beetles had held the benefit of his attention, but now it turned to the beauty in his care. Ever the gentleman, at least by birth, he arranged for their rooms to be switched. But to truly accommodate his guest, he would need to understand her needs. This called for some experimentation.

His room had been outfitted for the luxuries of rule, but he had done away with many through the years, not wanting all of that distraction from his work. Now he restored them in abundance. Back came the blackout drapes, a velvet shield against the light. Reinstated were the cushions and carpets, plump and plush, swan-feather and sheepskin. He had the room buttressed with mattresses, insulated against the outside world, a pillow fort to withstand any siege; and then, in the depths of those fortified foundations, he placed a solitary pea.

The next morning confirmed it. Princess Alessia was brought breakfast in bed, and Viscount Sethorzy's curiosity brought him with it - for all the trek across the palace it required. His rooms had been at the tip of the North Tower, far removed from any distractions, with unparalleled views across the valley. He had been told that they were quite beautiful, although he had never seen the benefit himself. The Viscount had never been one to know beauty from a distance. As with his beetles, he only recognised it from up close.

The Princess lay across the sheets like the lightest strokes of paint upon a canvas, as delicate and many times as beautiful. She wore a silken robe and eiderdown crown, and the champagne mist of her hair was strewn across the pillows like a halo in paradise, or the morning sun rising from behind white clouds. Viscount Sethorzy thought she could have been the missing link between humanity and the divine; between Creation and the void that came before. He took in the view, pastries in hand, and asked if she had found the new room more to her liking.

"The room itself is wonderful," she sighed, even her voice a whisper of a breath. "It is only a pity that the mattress was so lumpy. I am afraid it was another largely restless night, twisting and turning until I could find a position to avoid the worst of it. The discomfort seems to be most acute in the centre of the bed, if that is helpful for you to know."

"It is, thank you," Viscount Sethorzy replied. The experiment had confirmed his initial suspicions: her ailment was touch, an overabundance of feeling. The Princess was extraordinarily sensitive, and could feel a distortion no matter how disguised. "I am sorry to hear of your continued distress. I will of course see what more I can do."

He already knew the answer to that. They would need to keep her here, with a new mattress, cleared of peas and any crumbs or dust or hairs; sequestered in a sterile room, insulated from the remainder of the palace and its grounds. It felt a shame, not to have her to share it with, but the Viscount told himself that it was no great miss. Theirs had been a strategic match, he remembered. Royal blood; a way to strengthen his claim over these domains, given the unrest at the borders. His advisors had been clear about that.

It she had to be sealed away, the albino olm in her cave, so be it. He had meant to marry her, and then return to his work; not to spend the rest of his life tethered to her side. Of course, heirs may be out of the question, but that could be something for his advisors to rue. He would not miss the rest, and had harboured no expectations of romance for himself. If the Princess was more comfortable in this sanctuary, stationed away from the rest of his life, then that was all to the good. He had been as well - and would otherwise have needed to excuse himself from her company. They could exist in solitude together.

It lasted four days before the curiosity returned. The Princess was too compelling to be ignored. Viscount Sethorzy was fascinated by this guest under his roof: the nature of her affliction, and how it might be turned to more productive uses. This called for more experimentation. He plucked one of the living specimens from his collection, and used tweezers to place it underneath her floorboards. Within a minute of taking to bed, she had called a servant to have it removed, complaining of an unbearable scuttling that only she could feel.

But the servant had been briefed, and roused Viscount Sethorzy instead. "You can feel it moving from your bed?"

"Yes." She was again a dream made flesh, a breath given life. Her skin, the merest morning mist that lay across the the valley outside. Her hair, the gentle gold of seafoam at dawn. "Although I could not say what it was, and confess that I am still unsure. Are they native here?"

All this was music to the Viscount's ears; locating the beetle, which had taken him months to find, and with her own dosage of curiosity too. "Come with me on my walk tomorrow," he asked. "It will be easier to show you."

The Princess agreed - and, meeting him downstairs on the morrow, gave the Viscount one of the most agreeable mornings of his life. He took her to the woodlands his predecessors had once used to hunt, and where, in his own fashion, he now did as well. She was able to say which bark hid the most hidden life, and even start to recognise their motions with experience: the many footsteps of a centipede, the frantic movement of a louse, the stolid progress of a worm. They continued to venture out together, taking short walks at a time, and his collection grew at a rate that he had never known before.

He also uncovered a greater understanding of her condition: Princess Alessia lay like a fragile spider in her silken web, registering every vibration, each disturbance from her trembling spindly fingertips. She was sensitive enough to feel a pin drop, registered even before it hit the floor. With practice, she was able to feel the crawling of a woodlouse at twenty paces - and, equally impressive to the Viscount's mind, able to bear the sensory overload he felt that such an awareness must surely provide.

"I can stomach it in small doses," she said, when he raised that final concern. "I've learnt to find a balance in the chaos; I just have to seek out the melody amongst the noise."

"Just that?"

She nodded, perhaps not recognising the sarcasm in his tone. Too subtle, even for a lady such as her.

"Then I shall endeavour to make your life more tuneful."

There were certain accommodations to be made, in addition to her room. Viscount Sethorzy observed them well, as if in one of his experiments, and made adjustments as they went. The Princess wore silk gloves outside, and kept her touch as light as her countenance, as if she couldn't countenance anything more. They had to travel in a palanquin, and she wore a velvet moretta and cloak against the sunlight and the wind, each of which would sear the fragile snowmelt of her skin.

At first, the Viscount had thought her face painted with lead, but she was too attuned to touch for that as well; her skin was natural, and had to be preserved away from nature's own crimson paints. There was much to learn, but he had always been a quick study. Her sensitivity was extraordinary; in time, he came to see it was much a talent as affliction. There were many practical uses for such a gift. Princess Alessia was able to locate the splinter in a horse's hoof, the growth of clot beneath the skin - and, more excitingly, tell the beat of beetle under bark. She drew needles from haystacks, worms from wood, and Sethorzy from the drudgery of his previous life.

Together, they settled into a new routine. A melody, amongst the noise. The Viscount in his study, inspecting the minutiae of his realm. The Princess in her tower, content looking out over a distant world. They found what even Alessia might have known as peace - aside from the hassle of the occasional travelling knight, who stopped to enquire if she needed rescuing, at all? But, of course, she didn't. For once, sequestered in her room, she felt safely set apart from all the noise. To her, the North Tower wasn't a cell. It was protection.

Still, more than anyone, Princess Alessia would have known no silence lasts for long - and soon the Viscount came to feel vibrations of his own. There were rumblings of unrest - growing from the edges of his domains into the central provinces, much as mould consumes an overripened peach - and the royal match had failed to stop the spread. At least, not yet. The Princess's name may not have stemmed dissent, but she had more to offer than her hand. Or, rather, her hand had more to offer than a finger for a ring she'd never worn.

"What do you make of this?" Still moving gently, testing her tolerance with every step, Sethorzy set his wife to more strategic work.

"I can read it." She stroked her palm over the page. The revolt had taken to using ciphers, and the Viscount was working on translating them, but it was easier when the Princess could read the imprint of the original message from previous sheet. She could even trace the damp marks of invisible ink. He was beginning to wonder if there was anything she couldn't do. "The rebels are planning a surprise assault. Here."

"Does it say when?" Her skin evoked tracing paper itself. Like he could hold a candle to her chest, and watch the organs dancing underneath. He could see through it to the blue blood in her veins; almost luminous, like bioluminescent ink. It was hard to focus on the war, when he had peace herself within his home.

"No need," the Princess said. "A force like this - several hundred men, marching in lockstep through the valley? I can simply tell you when they leave."

[meret118]

[maxheimer-feral]

Where/How do you get Eureka items?

i think ive answered this in another post? but i don’t mind responding again.

eureka items are an item that is a random drop from another item you can craft in reputable goods, fera fashions and twigla’s workshop. right now the only ones that exist are:

(key: -available item-eureka item)

——————— reputable goods———————

-alchemist vials-rare alchemist bottle belt

-grunge tail chain-rare barbed tail chain

-travel anvil-rare blacksmith bag

-pointed fae collar-rare posh seraph collar

-jet amulet-rare woodland collar

-kobold sword-wooden sword

-western lasso-cactus buddy

———————fera fashions———————

-tail eye charm-rare sinister bone string(out of stores!)

-shoulder bag-rare back pouches(out of stores!)

-tail petals-rare tulip tail(out of stores!)

-sharp bone necklace-rare dreadtie(out of stores!)

-ribbon cuffs-rare bangles(out of stores!)

-lace anklet-rare dapper lace(out of stores!)

-forest tail bells-rare woodland tail bells(out of stores!)

-apple brooch-rare poison apple brooch(out of stores!)

-tail furhawk-rare elegant furhawk(out of stores!)

-vineyard earrings-rare spine earrings(out of stores!)

-star clip bracelet-rare ruin stone cuffs(out of stores!)

-alchemist staff-rare fae lantern staff(out of stores!)

-cozy bomber hat-rare kitty bomber hat(out of stores!)

-goldenwood armor-rare royal piked armor(out of stores!)

-lantern lattice cuffs-rare elegant lattice leggings(out of stores!)

-flower headband-rare marsh flower headband(out of stores!)

-alchemist tome-rare dark arts tome(out of stores!)

-stately cuffs-rare thorn cuffs(out of stores!)

-alchemist heavy chain-rare royal neck plate(out of stores!)

-buttercuffs-rare fera fly cuffs(out of stores!)

-tail flipper-rare feathered tail flipper

-commoner shoulder pads-rare regal shoulder pads

-flower bands-rare candle flower bands

-mustache-rare mustache with beard(out of stores!)

-fish kite-rare epic fish kite(out of stores!)

-school bag-rare wood nymph bag(out of stores!)

-parasol-rare wagasa parasol(out of stores!)

-blizzard hat-rare epic blizzard hat(out of stores!)

-woodland antlers-rare woodland nymph antlers(out of stores!)

-tail blades-rare epic tail blades(out of stores!)

-floating crown-rare elegant floating crown

-flame rune tail-rare regal flame rune tail

-bell collar-rare ribbon bell collar

-halo-rare winged halo(out of stores!)

-spring hood-rare gothic hood(out of stores!)

-autumn brooch-rare skull brooch(out of stores!)

-hunter wraps-rare garden snake wraps(out of stores!)

-eggshell hat-rare decorative eggshell hat(out of stores!)

-tail pillow-rare royal worm(out of stores!)

-rounded collar-rare lace rounded collar(out of stores!)

-knife necklace-rare knife brooch(out of stores!)

-spacer adornment-dark space cheek guards(out of stores!)

-spacer collar-dark space collar(out of stores!)

-spacer gauntlets-dark space gauntlets(out of stores!)

-spacer league mohawk-dark space mohawk(out of stores!)

-spacer suit-dark space spaulders(out of stores!)

-spacer tail guard-dark space tail guard(out of stores!)

-voyager armor-dark voyager armor

-voyager helm-dark voyager helm

-voyagers mustache-dark voyager mustache

-voyager shield-dark voyager shield

-voyager shin guards-dark voyager shin greaves

-team delilah cap-antlered team delilah cap

-team aradia cap-horned team aradia cap

-winged cuff-durable winged cuff

-beetle helm-majestic beetle helm(out of stores!)

-beetle pauldrons-majestic beetle pauldrons(out of stores!)

-beetle skirt-majestic beetle skirt(out of stores!)

-planetary crown-attis crown

-authoritative cap-fancy authoritative cap(out of stores!)

-striped socks-floating striped socks

-frosted leaf crown-frosted leaf skull crown(out of stores!)

-gothic frilled hat-gothic bone hat

-gothic haunch bows-gothic bone haunch

-gothic lace choker-gothic bone lace choker

-gothic night bands-gothic bone night bands

-gothic shoulder frills-gothic bone shoulder frills

-gothic tail frill-gothic bone tail frill

-winter collar-plaid winter collar(out of stores!)

-winter cuffs-plaid winter cuffs(out of stores!)

-daunting adornment-woodland adornment

-daunting armor-woodland branch pauldrons

-daunting claws-woodland cuffs

-daunting amulet-woodland lavalliere

-daunting toptail-woodland tree hat

-striped neck collar-tuxedo collar

-metal shoulder cuffs-floating striped shoulder cuffs

-rogue cuff crossbow-bard anklets(out of stores!)

-rogue collar-bard purse(out of stores!)

-matryoshka hat-DJ earmuffs

-icy climbing pick-drill tail(out of stores!)

-frigid rose-kitchen shield(out of stores!)

-classy earrings-fairy k earrings

-classy glasses-fairy k glasses

-classy brooch-fairy k brooch

-classy tail flower-fairy k tail flower

-twigla back buddy-exclusive twigla back buddy(enigma items)

-punk face piercings-punk ear piercings

-explorer dish-wooden shield

———————twigla’s workshop———————

-midnight moon chair-rare midnight moon chair

-midnight moon lounge-rare midnight moon lounge

-evening chair-rare evening chair(out of stores!)

-evening lounge-rare evening lounge(out of stores!)

-apparition armoire-rare apparition armoire

-leaping kitsune statue-rare leaping kitsune statue

-treasure trunk-rare treasure trunk(out of stores!)

-indominable throne-rare indominable throne(out of stores!)

-twiggle-os breakfast cereal-rare twiggle-os cereal with prize(enigma items)

-epic ocean lamp-rare axoly ocean lamp

-mandrake-rare fruitful mandrake(out of stores!)

-old dead tree-rare old dead tree(out of stores!)

-ocean lamp-rare uniseahorse lamp

-sushi-rare sushi & musubi(out of stores!)

-mystic lamp-rare mystic twiggle lamp(out of stores!)

-feral pho-rare jumbo shrimp feral pho(out of stores!)

-mother-in-law’s tongue-rare mother-in-law’s tongue of wrath(out of stores!)

-carnivorous larry-rare fire breathing carnivorous larry(out of stores!)

-shimmer blade vanity-shattered shimmer blade vanity(out of stores!)

-pinata-senri pinata(out of stores!)

-academic bookcase-graduate academic bookcase(out of stores!)

-gnarled archway-twintree gnarled archway(out of stores!)

-lanternberry lantern-refined lanternberry lantern(out of stores!)

-art deco ottoman-embellished deco ottoman(out of stores!)

-cottage trunk-open cottage trunk(out of stores!)

-log shelves-tiered log shelves(out of stores!)

-snazzy shelves-four crows branch

-snazzy window-lunar phases rug

-slushy market stall-city fera closed sign(out of stores!)

-moonsea painting-city fera game posters(out of stores!)

-moonsea chest-alchemy cauldron(out of stores!)

-kino action figure-epic kino figure

-kotatsu table-spring tsukue

-slushy bridge-spring fable bridge(out of stores!)

-slushy log bench-spring market stall

-slushy frost fire spit-spring roast fire spit(out of stores!)

-slushy tent-spring tent(out of stores!)

-appleseed tree-blender with fruits(enigma items)

-dreambow flag-custom flag(out of stores!)

-deep sea aquarium-dark light aquarium(enigma items)

-figpear tree-garden café sign(enigma items)

-classic shelves-classic baking essentials

-classic sink-classic counter

-classic washer-classic dishwasher

-classic shower-classic tub

-beach towels-beach lounger

-shovel and bucket-sandcastle(enigma items)

-beach ball-volleyball net(enigma items)

it’s not a very common occurrence, but i got lucky with a few of mine, getting them within 1-3 attempts, but others not so much(it took me 37 tries with the leaping kitsune statue).

so- yeah. they’re fun- you can try yourself, it’s pretty cool, and a very nice feeling when you get them.

[beetlebrownleaf]

#FFxivWrite2020 - Prompt #23 - Shuffle

[Entry Masterpost]

~750 words. Urianger is autistic and stims no I will not take criticism at this time. Have happy fun stimmy times. And maybe. Some foreshadowing? Of the far future? Who knows. :)

Urianger was finally settled into the cottage, and his things now littered the house - tastefully, of course. His books occupied a new bookshelf (for Beetle already had plenty of full ones herself), his clothes were folded into the armoire, and he even had a brand new table for his card readings. This he was very pleased with, as he found the readings were beneficial to study and meditation. 

Mostly, he would simply shuffle the cards while he thought. Beetle always enjoyed watching or listening to this, as his table was in the bedroom, and he almost always did it when she was lounging on the bed. 

She liked it especially in quiet evenings, where she would curl up with the blanket, piles of soft pillows behind her, a mug of tea at the end table, and a nice cozy book. When all was quiet, his readings were a rather soothing thing to listen to. 

The quiet swish of the cards being spilled from their velvet pouch, the heavy thud of the deck hitting the soft tablecloth. The way his long slender fingers riffled through each card’s edge - oh his hands, they even sounded graceful - and the small but distinctive fwip of the cards being laid down. She always smiled at the gentle, thoughtful huffs through his nose he gave as he looked at the readings.

What she liked the most though, was the sound of the shuffling. Like a paper package being opened, a stiff yet soft noise, with all the same comfort. She found how he seemed to enjoy it, how it seemed to bring him some kind of tactile satisfaction, very endearing, along with his other behaviors: his humming and his finger tapping, the way he subconsciously sought things that felt pleasing to the touch, and would continue to touch them (such as the fabric of her favorite heavy silken robe). He had always been like this, but she noticed them with increasing frequency, now that they were married and living together. 

And, as usual, the shuffling had lulled her nearly to sleep, but not in the troublesome way one finds, nodding off and on and off and on again, trying hard to focus, but rather in a comfortable haze that made the reading all the more pleasant. So pleasant that she did not realize the sounds she now heard were of him putting the deck away, and rising to crawl into bed.

“Mm,” he said, his rich baritone voice cutting through the quiet, “What art thou reading, beloved?”

“Just that romance again,” she said, “That one set during the War of the Magi.”

“Ahh, where the Mhachi black mage is carrying the Amdapori white mage’s child?” 

“Yes, that one. Always gets me when the child is born without a hitch. I know it isn’t impossible for a Lalafell to have a healthy child with an Elezen, but it makes me terribly anxious nonetheless!”

“Tis fiction,” he said, “Anything is possible there anyways, mm?”

Beetle gave a small laugh.

“Yes, I suppose,” she said, “Though I do wonder; what exactly would a child like that grow up to be like? A Hyur and an Elezen seems to work out just fine, there’s plenty of those about. Or at least, ‘plenty’ as far as intermingled children go.”

Urianger shurgged.

“So few art conceived in the first place,” he said, “And many that do manage to be conceived do not survive, sadly.”

“Hm. True. I don’t think I’ve ever even heard of one being conceived,” she said, “Eh, guess it’s not really anything we need to worry about.”

Urianger gave her a quick, sharp glance. 

“Dost thou...?” he began. She interrupted him.

“Oh goodness, no, Urianger,” she said, “I don’t care if we somehow manage to have a child or not. I’ve never really cared one way or the other. And besides, being with child has never sounded particularly pleasant to me. My mother said she was terribly sick with me. ‘Course, she always said baby girls made you the most sick. Dunno why. Sounds like an old crone’s tale.”

Urianger pursed his lips thoughtfully.

“Mm. Mayhap tis for the best,” he said, “Our lives art not fit for children besides.”

Beetle nodded.

“Not now, certainly,” she said, thinking.

She suddenly shook her head.

“Bah. It’s a moot point, really,” she said, “And even if we did have one, I’m sure it would be taller than me by the time it was four, anyways.”

They both laughed, curling comfortably with one another.

[ununniliad]

Burst Beetle Tweseveny #9: “2007: The Umpire's Call and the Last Rung's Fall!“

The figure lands lightly on her feet, wearing insectoid armor in shining black and white! She snaps her fingers, pointing at Tweseveny, then whips her head around and points the finger at M-Plot!

"And I think it needs a referee! Someone like... Burst Beetle XOX!" The camera zooms around XOX and she poses, showing off her cool armor!

Her chest plate has a diagonal checkerboard pattern with white Xes on the black squares and black Os on the white squares. Hanging from her neck is an enormous crimson whistle. Her arms and legs are vertically striped in black and white, and she wears black gloves and boots with white trim. At her crimson belt is a buckle with two chess clocks on them, one with Tweseveny's armored face on it, the other with M-Plot. Her face is a criss-cross tic-tac-toe board, and her eyes are black, circular lenses, one with a raised white letter X in it, the other with a raised white letter O. At her neck is a black bowtie with a ruby at the center, and on her forehead is a ruby chess clock, with white numbers and a black hand!

Tweseveny shakes her head. "Burst Beetle... Zocks?"

"Right, but you spell it capital ecks capital oh capital ecks."

"What is this!?" M-Plot stalks forward. "Who sent you? What are you!?"

XOX holds out a hand and presses it to M-Plot's chest plate. "Babe, I'm not a player in this game. I'm just here to make sure it's fair."

M-Plot pulls back angrily. "This isn't a game."

"Yeah, and if it was, we'd be winning!" Mother Time holds up the Hourglass of wReamThermodynamics and blasts a seething stream of temporal rays at XOX!

Who holds up a single hand and lets the stream splash uselessly against it! "Attacking the ref, that's a penalty!" She reaches down and grabs the whistle, holding it up in the air. She presses a button on it, and as a shrill noise rings out, the Hourglass vanishes - and appears in Time-Waster Lad's hands!

"Hey, what--" He juggles the item of power-- manages to grab it, but drops the Rung of Revamp!

"GOT IT--" Mother Time leaps forward--

And the Time Crapper is there, between her and XOX, M-Plot just to the side.

"STOP."

he speaks in a voice that vibrates thru the bones of all present.

And they do.

He looks up at XOX. "What are the rules of your game?"

XOX nods cheerfully, putting one hand on her hip and pointing the other at him. "You, you get it." She looks back and forth. "It'll seem pretty familiar. Two teams, three of you versus two of you--" She points at Tweseveny. "Transform, please."

Tweseveny lets out a breath - given what happened to the Hourglass, she wasn't sure what would happen if she'd tried. "With pleasure." She presses the pink gem on her buckle, and sheets of printer paper wrap around her, bursting into her armor.

"There we go," says XOX. "And if you can get the Rung and the Hourglass both on one side, you win."

"So," says M-Plot, evenly, fists clenched. "What's the catch?"

"We're moving to a bit of a different playing field. Goes something like..." She looks at Tweseveny and pushes down the button on her Tweseveny clock, holding it down. "You play!" She looks at M-Plot and pushes her M-Plot button, holding it down. "We play!" She looks up in the air. "Let's play!"

She releases both buttons at once, and the corridors of LNHQ shake wildly, knocking everyone off their feet! The roof seems to open up, and suddenly, Tweseveny is being carried up on some kind of white, blocky platform, rising high into a sunny blue sky!

Below, she can see the corridors growing and twisting, forming a maze! At the center of the maze is the Plot Device Room, and she can see Time-Waster Lad running out of it, carrying the Hourglass - and Mother Time giving chase!

All around her, platforms like something out of a video game are rising up - and spelling out words! In fact, they're spelling out "Infinite Leadership Cry.sig"!

This is really weird!! But Tweseveny feels alive! She sees a staircase running down from the 'g', into the LNHQ, a way to help-- and she sees M-Plot standing in front of it, brandishing a blade forged from a clock hand!

"Well," says M-Plot, widening her stance. "Two powerful net.villains against one of the weakest members of the LNH. Perhaps she was on my side after all." She swings the blade around in her hand. "Tweseveny... time to meet the boss of this level!"

She charges forward, and the two clash!

Far below, the Time Crapper picks up the Rung. "Tamela, we've got what we wanted..." He watches her run down the corridor, and sighs, walking after.

Mother Time fires temporal blasts from her scythe, ranting and screaming. "You didn't mean anything you said, did you?! It was all just a trick to get me to lower my guard!"

Time-Waster Lad ducks and dodges. "I really did, tho!" He looks over his shoulder for a moment, then eeps and darts to the side, out of the way of a burst of energy that turns a original painted cel of Manga Girl into crayon art on construction paper. "I like helping! It's good!!"

"Fuck that!!" She slices thru a decorative armoire in her rage. "I don't need anything except what's mine, and that's everything! That's me and my boy! We're strong enough to stand together against the whole universe!!"

Tweseveny dances in tight combat with M-Plot! She can hold her own, but she can't push forward - can't get past to help Time-Waster Lad!

"Hear that, Tweseveny?" says M-Plot, a smirk in her voice as she thrusts, narrowly missing Tweseveny's midsection. "You couldn't make them better! They're just as bad as before! You've failed, utterly!"

Tweseveny grits her teeth. It's true, and it stabs at her, but her head is clear, for the moment, of despair, and she's thinking...

M-Plot is nothing if not smart, and... yes, she's right. The Time Crapper and Mother Time - they're beyond Tweseveny's ability to fix, and, from what he'd said, beyond any hero's. They just need to break up...

...no, not just break up. They'd already tried to push off from each other, time after time. But they're too caught in each other's orbit, helplessly spinning back together. They need to be broken up - forcefully pushed out of each other's lives, too fast and hard to come back together. And maybe they'd end up being toxic in somebody else's direction - but at least there would be a chance!

And then, a second realization - yes, she can hear that! Somehow, she can hear what's going on far down below with perfect clarity. Which means...

Tweseveny throws herself into an aggressive attack, one which M-Plot will have to focus all her skills on dodging! And she raises her voice so all can hear! "Time-Waster Lad!"

Time-Waster Lad skids around a corner, panting as he runs as fast as he can. "Y-yeah?"

"Remember!" Tweseveny shouts. "Flame Wars II!" And then she has to dodge M-Plot's counterattack with all her might!

"Flame Wars II, what--" His eyes go wide, and he glances down at the Hourglass in his hands. "They can't win if..." He smiles the smile of someone with a plan!

He takes a turn, and a turn, and another turn-- and he's back in the lobby of the LNHQ. He runs behind the desk, where he can see the whole room.

Mother Time runs in, stops short. She glares at him, scythe burning with energies, eyes flicking around, trying to figure out why he stopped.

The Time Crapper walks in behind her, one hand seething with entropy, the other holding the Rung. "Give it up, boy. We've already won."

"Yeah!" Mother Time points the scythe at him. "You're just wasting time!"

Time-Waster Lad grins wide. "Yep!" He holds the Hourglass up in the air, and focuses. Once, he was able to waste millions, billions of years. Twenty-four hours should be a piece of cake!

"What..." The Time Crapper turns, looks out the window-- sees the angle of the light shifting, shadows moving, sun lowering towards the horizon-- "No!"

"GRAH!" Mother Time tries to blast him, but the energy skitters off the surface of the Hourglass! The sun sets, the moon rises--

The Time Crapper runs forward, heedless, hoping he's in time--

Time-Waster Lad looks up in the air and waves. "Bye, Tweseveny! Thanks!"

Somewhere far away, a clock strikes midnight, and Time-Waster Lad vanishes, Hourglass of wReamThermodynamics and all.

"No..." says the Time Crapper, inches from where he'd been. He turns, and sees Tamela-- "NO!"

"I don't..." Tamela looks confused, looking off into space, seeing something else, some other existence. Around her, figures appear for a brief moment, figures of herself, a cloud of selves singing, laughing, yelling, dying, living. She looks up at the Time Crapper, eyes wide, guileless. "I don't... remember you..."

The Time Crapper grabs her hand, pulling her away from herselves, but her hand comes apart in his, dissolving into a cloud, as brief a moment as all those others; and as her existence comes apart, she, and her selves, disappear from LNHQ, and from this moment altogether.

The Time Crapper falls to his knees, hand still extended, hidden gaze staring off at where she had been.

High above, the platforms rumble and come apart, separating Tweseveny and M-Plot, as LNHQ draws back together, seeming like a building again, instead of a dizzying labyrinth.

M-Plot's platform settles down next to the Time Crapper. He stares off, in a terrible freefall as the bottom drops out of his life. Then he looks up at M-Plot, voice helpless, beseeching. "What do I do now?"

M-Plot puts her hand on his shoulder, and speaks, not unkindly. "The only thing left for you to do. The thing you've needed to do for a long time. Move on."

The Time Crapper looks down, down into the depths of the universe, and nods, once. "To the past..." He sighs. "Always to the past." He holds out the Rung of Revamp, and M-Plot takes it.

Tweseveny's platform settles across from him. "Time Crapper, wait a second..."

He looks up at her. The bitterness is gone from his vacant gaze, but so too is the hope. "Yes, Burst Beetle Tweseveny?"

"I..." She still feels the shame, but... it'd be worse if she didn't say it. "I meant what I said. You should figure out what you really want, now that... now that this is all over."

The Time Crapper nods. "Thank you. Truly. But..." He looks off into the distance. "I am afraid I have but two choices. One, to separate entirely from humanity - to become fully cosmic, and take part in that great dance. It sounds beautiful... but I'm afraid I'm too weak to choose something so noble." He shakes his head, great sadness hanging off of him. "Thus, I will take the other choice - to stay a net.villain, and seek even greater power. I..."

He hesitates. "Somewhere out there, now, she has resumed her life, with nothing left of me in it..." He shakes his head. I will not seek to bring her back to me. Thank you for teaching me that. But..."

The Time Crapper draws himself up. The shadows within his robe seem to become deeper, and Tweseveny has a strange sensation of vertigo, like she's looking into the depths of space, beyond galaxies and clusters. "In her memory, I will find the greatest powers of this cosmos, and I will take them for my own. And I will force this Looniverse to become what I need it to be." His robe blows in an unseen wind, and the lights of the lobby dim. "And the LNH will battle me, and perhaps one of them will finally, finally, tell me what I need to be. That, Tweseveny, is what I desire."

Gazing into that awful deep darkness, Tweseveny sees one more awful truth. This man isn't the Time Crapper yet. Not the one from the Cosmic Plot Device Caper, from Cry.sig, from Retcon Hour. And he was going to go back, and carry out all those awful plans, and--

"Wait, please, let's..." The words die on her lips.

"Talk about it?" The Time Crapper nods, as one by one, the lights of the lobby wink out. "No, thank you. One day, we shall talk, one last time. But for now... goodbye, Tweseveny. I hope the path you walk is better than mine."

And for a brief moment, all is dark; and when light returns, he is gone.

For a moment, Tweseveny is silent. She turns to M-Plot, and says but one word: "Why?"

M-Plot folds her arms. "Because he's going to save the world." Unlike before, she is not happy, she is not gleeful, she is simply... carrying out a duty.

"Save the world!?" Tweseveny gestures wildly. "He's going to cause so much destruction! We could have stopped it!"

M-Plot shakes her head. "He will provide a valuable counterbalance. If not for his greed, if not for his desire, the Crossover Queen would have taken this world when it was weak."

"But--" Tweseveny clenches her fist. "There could have, must have been--"

"Better women than you have TRIED." M-Plot slams her fist into the wall! "WE ARE NOT THE ONES WHO WILL SAVE HIM."

"Enough." Burst Beetle XOX is suddenly there, next to them, her arms crossed, lenses focused on M-Plot. "I know who you are. I know who empowered you. And I know what your mission is."

"..." M-Plot turns away. "Which one?"

"Both of them."

"Er..." Tweseveny raises her hand. "Could I know?"

XOX turns to Tweseveny, and there was a smile in her voice. "Not yet." She looks back at M-Plot. "She'll tell you."

"The hell I will!" M-Plot snarls, still turned away.

"Yes, yes." XOX waves her hand casually, voice lightening. "But why worry about that, when there's still just one more thing for you to take care of?"

"Ah..." M-Plot looks at her hand, still holding the Rung of Revamp. "So there is."

She holds the Rung high in the air. Tweseveny wonders-- is M-Plot going to use it to power up, give herself some new form or weapon to use in their battles?

But no. The Rung begins to glow, but its light does not spread to M-Plot's body; the Rung itself grows brighter, and brighter, and Tweseveny suddenly understands - M-Plot is using the Rung of Revamp on the Rung of Revamp!

"No longer will the Rung of Revamp simply empower!" speaks M-Plot, voice ringing with an echoing thunder. "Once, its purpose was to create a character anew, to rewrite identities! Now, it returns to that purpose! I cast thee back in time - I cast thee to - Jungle Cheesecake!"

From far away, there is a deep BONG, echoing as if reflected between great cilffs, valleys and mountains; and with each echo, the Rung's light, and the Rung itself, fades, until it is gone.

M-Plot dusts off her hands. "It will have to be found again, ere net.hero or net.villain can use it."

"So..." says Tweseveny, raising an eyebrow. "You're not just here to mess with me."

"Yes," says M-Plot, strained calm in her voice. "I have my own duties to the Looniverses." She looks at Tweseveny, and in her lenses, a resentful glow burns. "And they include ending your playtime, Tweseveny. You are a reckless, irresponsible factor in these histories."

"But--"

XOX steps between them, and looks M-Plot in the face. "Go."

"Fine." The deep BONG sounds again, and M-Plot begins to fade. "You will see me again soon, Tweseveny! Beware! Bewaaaaaare..."

XOX shakes her head. "What a drama queen."

Suddenly, the lobby doors open and net.heroes pour in, fleshy humans and mechanical duplicates alike. They crowd around the Burst Beetles, full of confusion - it seemed that they had returned from their missions during the time that had been wasted, and found themselves outside at just past midnight.

Tweseveny feels light-headed, overwhelmed, and sways on her feet - into XOX's arms. The latter hero holds her close and addresses the crowd: "I promise an explanation, but first - time out!" She presses the ruby on her head, and everything seems to freeze around the two of them.

"Oh," says Tweseveny, trying to stand up. "Very good..." She stumbles again.

"Hey," says XOX, holding her up. "You started net.heroing in the evening after a tiring day of work, and between Carolyn and Time-Waster Lad, you've spent a whole 'nother day doing things. I'm not going to say you need some sleep... but yes I am. You need some sleep."

"...oh." Tweseveny yaaaaaaaawns, wide and deep, and her armor poofs away, leaving her in that same beige skirt and sensible blouse. "Sleep... it's a weird thing for a net.hero to do..."

XOX shakes her head. "We all do it, I promise. Just, usually off-panel." She guides Tweseveny down the corridors. "I don't think Time-Waster Lad will mind you using his room."

"Heh... no, I guess not..." She stumbles along, and it doesn't seem to take them much time at all to reach the door, for XOX to open it, and help her to the bed. She kicks off her shoes, and looks up to see XOX turning to go. "Hey, wait..."

XOX turns back. "Yes?"

"Is..." She rubs at her eye. "Is this... really happening? Am I really Burst Beetle Tweseveny, or is Glenda Gwynnych just pretending to be something more?"

XOX kneels down, takes her by the shoulders, and looks into her eyes, mask to face. "You are... yourself. I can't tell you what that is, but I know this. If you want to be Tweseveny, you don't have to be On all the time. You can have human needs, human flaws, and yet be far more than what they think a human is. That's what this place, this world, is about."

Tweseveny smiles. "Yes... thank you." She reaches up to stroke the mask. "And when will you be Off?"

The smile in XOX's voice is clear thru her mask. "At the end of the game." She stands up, turns away, opening the door to leave; but lingers in the doorway, helmet turning just so, a glance back at Tweseveny; one that makes Tweseveny oddly warm inside, oddly soft, oddly safe.

"Or perhaps... at halftime."

<<<*>>>

Author's Note: Whew! Finally! @-@v Two years in the making.

So what happens with Tweseveny next? Well, my plan is for a 27-issue series, plus a big "movie" special. I have no idea how long that'll take, of course. X3 And I might change my plans along the way. But I'm not gonna worry too much - I'm just gonna have fun, as much as I can. :>

One more continuity note: I noticed that in Infinite Leadership Crisis-era stories, the Rung of Revamp increased several characters' powers without altering them. I think there might be an interesting story in how that came about, but I figured I'd leave that one open, and just draw a line under the whole deal.

Also, after I talked to confidate Emma McGill about Time-Waster Lad, she came up with a list of potential habits for him:

Hair is always a different color

Has a bunch of tattoos that he did himself (pen & ink)

Chronic Doodler

Nails are often painted with whatever is lying around

Master whittler

Definitely picks at everything

Incredible at video games

Known to just start walking in a random direction with no destination in mind

Pretty good at trick shots, lacks the discipline to go pro.

Chronic thread unraveler

Is annoyed that Criticker only has a 0-100 rating system

Has a serious TV Tropes problem

Middling bass player, mostly just likes to 'jam' in his free time

Hair is either buzzed, or a very uneven shag (he cuts it himself)

People think he's very "zen"; he isnt

Chronic list starter

Owns the most elaborate fidget spinner the world has ever seen.

Never leaves home without a ballpoint pen, Sharpie, gum, some kind of fidget toy, & eyeliner

Can turn nearly any thin, flat surface into an airplane

Can play arbitrary numbers of songs' drum lines on arbitrary surfaces

[mermaidmafia-official]

{PART II: THE BLOODMOTHER}

written by: @bebemoon 

outfit ref: n/a, see the above image .

tag list: @interluxetumbra​ @ayzrules​ @vampirkaninchen​ @blubbingbeautifully​

Soundtrack: AMOR EST MORTIS, susanne sundfør

[THE FAVOURITE]

"MISSING ELDER MYSTERY DEEPENS"

Beneath the headline emblazoned on the front page of the Halacre Herald, there was a photo of a toppled vehicle in a densely wooded area. The caption mentioned that it had been discovered up in a cluster of trees but had fallen through the forest canopy after the authorities were called.

And it was found to have belonged to the Maminots, who had been missing a week over by that time.

Zammurad had taken her "clean-up" duties a little too far.

"What does it say?" Lia asked softly.

Darling Amaelia was beside Ysabelle as she read the newspaper at her vanity. She had taken up a silver-handled brush to run through Ysa's long, dark hair, and until she spoke, she had been humming something under her blood-sweetened breath.

Ysabelle folded the paper and placed it on the vanity table. She leaned back in her chair with a sigh. "The authorities are wonderfully dim," she replied flatly. "Zammurad has managed a confusing scenario- I doubt they'll be able to suss anything further."

The authorities had, of course, shown up to Bilitis House asking questions since it was the last known location of the missing Historical Society elders, but Ysabelle was able to successfully divert the police- bending their senses in a different direction. Well, several different directions.

Still, the mortals weren't the only ones to be dealt with.

Poppy was still confined and under heavy guard. Last Ysa spoke with her, the girl had revealed her utter unrepentantness regarding the knotty situation she had created.  

"I need to send Poppy away," Ysabelle said to her own dark-eyed reflection. "She is a threat to this coven's survival as long as she remains here. The Wolves are circling as it is."

Lia paused momentarily in her brushing. "I think Poppy's awful for having placed you under so much stress," she said, her tone strangely tender. Her bronze brows furrowed then. "And you've been so forgiving... . She deserves much worse, in my opinion."

Ysa's eyes drifted upwards of her own reflection to regard the ghostly-pale woman standing over her bare shoulder. The flesh of a white rose, the intense jade-stone eyes wreathed in gold-

Amaelia was still overcoming her bloodlust, but there had been much improvement in her over the past days. She was no longer in constant, blood-curdling agony (though, it still came and went, contorting her body disturbingly when it did come). The whites of her eyes had returned, her fangs were finally retracted. And, strangely, her hair was becoming steadily more pink. It was subtle against the fawn-colour, but nonetheless, she seemed to be pinkening- even her brows and eye-lashes were changing.

It was a pleasure to have her Amaelia back in lucidity, her gentleness and devotion returned. The awful gutting Ysabelle felt while watching Lia become delirious and wretched with pain caused her a sort of anguish she could hardly name- could not recall enduring, not even when Amare had clung to her like a petrified child ages ago.

Ysabelle leaned forward to prop her elbow on the vanity table. She rested her chin in her palm and continued to watch Lia as she brushed her hair and slipped her fingers through the dark, silky tresses with each stroke.

Little by little, the pair started to grin, and their grins deepened through the mirror. Knowing one another's thoughts precisely.

"The house is so still with everyone away," said Lia, a suggestion in her tone. Her voice was soft and her reflected eyes half-lidded as she slid her fingers about The Bloodmother's throat. She leaned closer to place a kiss on Ysabelle's shoulder...

And when she did, something heavy and cold thumped into Ysa's back.

Ysa reached over her shoulder to grasp whatever it was- a familiar pendant on a necklace that Lia was wearing.

She turned fully in her chair to face the consort, never releasing the pendant. "What are you doing with this?" she asked firmly.

"I...found it among your things, in a dusty little chest," Lia replied innocently. She gestured vaguely to the armoire. "I thought you wouldn't mind since it was so buried-"

"Mistress?"

Lia started at the sudden appearance of the cherub Weep-not, who, unlike his bald brother, had been blessed with a mop of golden curls. The angelic feature was greatly juxtaposed with his wretched little visage.

Ysabelle exhaled impatiently. "Yes, what is it?"

Weep-not waddled closer, his eyes cast downward. He would have possessed more confidence with his faithful porcelain doll companion, Marguerite. However, the word was that she was indisposed, of late- whatever that meant.

"Mistress," he began again, "I do not wish to disturb you, but Mr. Durwin is back. I s-spied him through the drawing room window."

Bothersome man.

Roland Durwin was Paulette Maminot's older brother and the man that sold Bilitis House to Ysabelle in the first place. Dutifully, he had shown up on the house's doorstep each night since the police informed him that they had cleared its inhabitants of any culpability in his sister's disappearance. Durwin, it appeared, was not convinced. He wanted an audience.

"Persistent, isn't he?" Ysa muttered, casting a glance to the draped windows. "Go. Leave him to me."

"Yes, Mistress," Weep-not mumbled. He executed something resembling a bow before backing out of the room through the heavy drapes.

Ysabelle, not overly concerned with the mortal on her doorstep, then returned her attention to Lia, whose fair features had fallen into worried lines.

"I would prefer it if you did not look through my belongings," said Ysa, her tone mild. She reached out to retake the ancient rock crystal pendant into the palm of her hand. It was in the shape of a scarab beetle.

Immortality, resurrection, transformation-

Unbidden, Amare's voice swept in an echo through Ysa's mind. It has the hue of clear moonlight.

The Bloodmother cleared her throat of emotion before continuing. "I was going to give this necklace to Amare," she explained. "She admired it, and I wanted to pass it on to someone who would care for it as I have. Before I could gift it to her on the anniversary of her death, I was forced to put her to sleep... . Since then, I've kept it safe and tucked away... . Not unlike Amare."

Lia, lips apart, pressed a hand over her still chest. "I’m sorry, I didn't realise-"

Ysa quelled her with a wave. "It is a beautiful necklace," she said gently, a smile playing in the corner of her mouth. "Someone ought to wear it."  

Lia beamed, her green eyes alight. She clutched the delicate, braided gold chain to her chest and half-spun herself on the balls of her feet. In the midst of her thrill, she seemed to have a sudden revelation and paused, sweeping blushing hair out of her speckled face.

"Could I see her?" Lia wondered. "Amare, I mean."

"What for?" Ysa asked.

Lia dropped herself into Ysabelle's lap. "Almost everyone's in Bay Haven tonight," she said, low. "So there's no one out and about in the house to threaten to 'make my bone dust into baubles'-"

"Zhang," Ysa guessed.

"-which means you can let me out just this once to look around, right?"

"And you want to start with Amare? I doubt Sabine will allow it," the Bloodmother replied.

Lia's brows lifted. "Can a servant like Sabine disallow you from anything?"

Ysabelle emitted a small noise of disgust and pressed the other woman out of her lap. "You do not need to manipulate me," she chided but only half-heartedly. "You had to know I would take you."

-

(Soundtrack: LE CYGNE, camille saint-saëns)

[SLEEPING EVIL]

Amare's chambers were strung in sheer drapes, gathered and hanging over every corner of the room, obscuring everything like an ethereal, ebbing mist. It would have been dark within, save the flickering candlelight, but the gossamer brightness of the drapings caught the moonlight pouring in through the uncovered windows, lending the space a great deal of soft light.

Sabine did allow Ysabelle to enter Amare's chambers, and Lia along with her, but only after assurances that the newest coven member would not touch her sleeping mistress.

The servant walked briskly ahead of the pair and moved one of the veils of gossamer aside, revealing the bier and bed of Amare wreathed in golden candlelight. Amare, too, was covered completely in a sheer shroud, her form and features just visible beneath the white film.

Lia wasted no time. She gathered the skirt of her nightdress and stepped up onto the dais to lean over the sleeping form bedded in dahlias and orchids.

Sabine stood in rigid silence just behind Ysabelle. The woman was noticeably tense, but Ysa assumed she was anxious due to Lia, a virtual stranger, being so near Amare.

"You needn't be so alarmed, Sabine," Ysa said without turning to face the woman.

She kept her eyes on Lia, who, even as a mortal, seemed to possess the curiosity of a child. She could be almost alien-like in her fascination with beauty, with finery...with blood. Her eyes would become large and her lips would part with a soft gasp...

Ysabelle pressed the image down. Cleared her throat.

When Lia flicked the shroud back from Amare's face, Sabine started forward with a scolding behind her teeth, but Ysa held her arm out to prevent the servant from performing any violence.

"Be still," said the Bloodmother. She was not curt, only good-natured. After all, protectiveness—particularly over someone she loved as her own child—was not a sin in her book.

"She's beautiful,” Lia breathed and laughed. “Like a doll.”

She sounded like a little girl in a toy shop.

Silence reigned for several moments following. Outside, the moon disappeared behind the clouds and plunged the chambers into near-darkness. The candles haloed the scene on the dais. Everyone was still.

Finally, the moon reappeared and Lia turned away from Amare’s sleeping form. The crystal scarab gleamed at her sternum in the moonlight.

“Could you put Poppy to sleep like this?” she asked, stepping down from the dais. “Actually, why haven’t you put Poppy to sleep?”

Ysa folded her arms. “Putting Amare under nearly killed me. She fought it—it was weeks before she finally succumbed and the spell took hold,” she said. “And then it took months to recover from the effort. That was years ago. Aged as I am, I do not think I have it in me to do it again- in particular with Poppy, who once assured me that she would have the Devil himself devour me ‘from the toes up’ if I ever tried to do the same to her.”

Lia lifted her eyes to the ceiling pensively. “Couldn’t Zammurad assist you? Maybe if you both tried-?”

“Lord Greggor is searching out a new bride,” Sabine quietly put in.

Ysa looked back at the woman. “Really? What happened to the last one?”

“The Lord said that she’s missing,” replied the servant.

Given Greggor’s portliness and inability to stand on his own two feet (indeed, his servants carried him around on a covered palanquin), the usual underworld gossip was that he devoured his brides on their “wedding” night.

Ysa was certainly angry with Poppy, however, she did not want to see the girl sold into marriage and eaten.  

The Bloodmother released a sigh. “It’s a discussion for another time, then,” she told the two women. “Sabine, thank you. We will let you return to your duties. Ah- actually, if I could make one more request of you-?”

Sabine bowed her head. “Anything, my lady.”

“Has your mistress been fed yet?” Ysa wondered.

The servant shook her head without raising it.

Ysabelle smiled. “Fantastic. I have a loose end that needs tying off,” she said. “There is a man outside the front door- tend to him, won’t you?”

-

Soundtrack: WHEN THE LORD, susanne sundfør

[AWAY FROM THE DARK. SOFTLY...] 

The Bloodmother dreamt as the sun rose: 

Ysabelle could see them standing together by the window,

but she could not make sense of it.

Why would they two be together? How did they come to be acquainted?

The shorter of the two figures was livid with bloodstains, her face was slick and glistening with blood, her hands were gloved in it. She wore the crystal scarab,

but she was not Amaelia.

The taller figure, a broad-shouldered man, naked to the waist, was concealed in shadow,

Nonetheless Ysabelle knew him. She knew his stench, she knew the way he carried himself. She could hear his heart thrumming, almost humming with the hunt.

They were together, but it was impossible. Impossible.

“Mother,” they said.

Impossible.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

#5yrsago Scarab beetle armoire

Designer Janis Straupe created the BUG armoire for True Latvia. I love the way the neatly fitted boards look like a blown-up grain, making the whole thing seem like a scarab under a magnifying lens. The piece is also extremely beautiful when it is partially opened, each set of doors making it seem more like a fantasy jewel box blown up to a delightful, comic scale. And check out the detail shots for the incredible skill and thoughtfulness that went into the interior compartments!

https://boingboing.net/2014/06/27/scarab-beetle-armoire.html

[habitica]

WEEKLY STATUS REPORT: NEW HATCHING POTION QUEST AND BLOG POSTS

Happy Monday, Habitican! It’s time for another roundup of the latest news from Habitica, and this week’s is pretty exciting. There’s a new quest available, with a new type of reward: if you battle the Brazen Beetle, you can get yourself some Bronze Magic Hatching Potions! If you’re ready to start filling your Stable with Bronze Pets, you can grab the scroll from the Quest Shop and get started!

We’ve also got some new blog posts up with info and advice about using Habitica! First, we’ve got this month's Use Case Spotlight. It’s all about Keeping Things Interesting in Habitica's "Endgame"! It features a number of great suggestions submitted by Habiticans in the Use Case Spotlights Guild. We hope it helps any of you who might be longtime Habiticans looking to keep things fresh. Next month’s feature is about making the most of the Warrior Class, so jump into the Guild if you have ideas to share!

This month's featured Wiki article is about the Enchanted Armoire! We hope that it will help you as you reward yourself for your accomplishments and assemble your wardrobe!

That’s it for this week! Time to go clear some tasks!

[mydearwtson]

all the light we cannot see, a book that is frankly too apropos, bookmarks Part I:

opening: Leaflets: At dusk they pour from the sky. They blow across the ramparts, turn cartwheels over rooftops, flutter into the ravines between houses. Entire streets swirl with them, flashing white against the cobbles. Urgent message to the inhabitants of this town, they say. Depart immediately to open country. 

Inside each airplane, a bombardier peers through an aiming window and counts to twenty. Four five six seven. To the bombardiers, the walled city on its granite headland, drawing ever closer, looks like an unholy tooth, something back and dangerous, a final abscess to be lanced away. 

wakes to a faint staccato hum. Little more than a purr. Flies tapping at a far-off windowpane. Where is he? The sweet, slightly chemical scent of gun oil; the raw wood of newly constructed shell crates; the mothballed odor of old bedspreads--he’s in the hotel. 

behind him, confiscated treatures are crammed to the ceiling: rolled tapestries, grandfather clocks, armoires, and giant landscape paintings crazed with cracks. On a shelf opposite Werner sit eight or nine plaster heads, the purpose of which he cannot guess. 

a single lightbulb casts everything in a wavering shadow

mousy hair and misaligned pupils 

“A diamond that large and rare could in all likelihood buy five Eiffel Towers.” Gasps. 

leafless trees stand atop slag heaps like skeleton hands shoved up from the underworld. 

She sings French folk songs in a screechy falsetto, harbors a weakness for sherry, and regularly falls asleep standing up. 

Opening them involves a cunning series of steps: find a seam with your fingernails, slide the bottom to the right, detach a side rail, remove a hidden key from inside the rail, unlock the top, and discover a bracelet inside. ... She slides a hidden drawer out of the base, finds a hidden compartment beneath the drawer, takes out a wooden key, and slots the key inside the chimney. Inside waits a square of Swiss chocolate. 

The war drops its question mark. 

As if all this time the city has been no more than a scale model built by her father and the shadow of a great hand has fallen over it. (love this bc  its a twilight zone episode)

A thick red carpet sucks at the soles of werner’s brogues 

he can feel its tiny weight there, as though he has slipped it inside his own mind: a knot. 

in a moment of disorientation, he feels that he’s looking not up but down, as though a spotlight has been shined into a wedge of bloodshot water, the sky has become the sea, and the airplanes are hungry fish, harrying their prey in the dark. 

all werner could see was volkheimer’s light go skittering away like a frightened beetle 

Seconds pass. Maybe they are minutes. Wener stays on his knees. Light. Then the others. Then the exit. Then his hearing. 

the roar remains, the buzzing of a thousand bees, very close. 

in the absolute blackness, his vision is webbed with a thousand traveling wisps of red and blue. Flames? Phantoms? They lick along the floor, the  rise to the ceiling, glowing strangeky, serenely. 

a cookbook lies dacedodnw in her path like a shotgunned bird. Here, in the center of the floor, the cellar door with its metal ring. 

an amber beam wandering  the dust it shuttled across debris, illuminates a  fallen hunk of wall 

scuttle. whisper. loll. a ruptured melon lolls in the drive like an amoutated head. 

wounds pulse. the weather in this place: you can feel it between your fingers. 

lips are pink and his eyelids are improbably thin. As though he is watching Werner even when he blinks. 

she can feel fear pumping off him, virulent, toxic; it reminds her of fumes billowing off the vats of formalin in the Department of Zoology. 

a sound like a chain of beads passing through fingers

Here a dead horse, starting to bloat. Here a chair upholstered in striped green velvet. Here the torn shreds of a canopy proclaim a brassierie. ...someone very far away might be screaming, or it might be the wind.

shadows lunge 

every0jes mouths move too quickly 

the cobbled street presses up irregularly against shoes, the tip of her cane catches, vibrates, catches again. 

the wind gusts. silver then green then silver aaain

the air tastes of silver polish

[orlandopestcontrol83]

Services Offered By Pest Control Companies

When buying a house, you do everything just to find the best one. It should be safe, fits your budget, and accommodates you and your family's needs. One safety concern that you should immediately check is if the house is free of pests. This is absolutely important if you want to live a healthy and comfortable life. You wouldn't want your kids to be bitten by ants, or your house's foundation to be infested with termites, right? To make sure that you're not throwing away your money on a property that is pest infested, consider requesting for a building and pest inspection.

A pest inspection will help you determine if the house is a good investment. If you have chosen a property that sits in an area where pests are common, you'd have to do the inspection immediately. Beetles, silverfish, termites, ants, wasps, moths, fleas and the likes have no room in your new home so don't even think twice about getting it checked. Should you be living alone, ensuring that your home is pest free is still a must especially if you plan to sell the property in the future. It will be a lot harder to get the house out of your hand if you have pests as houseguests Orlando Pest Control .

Fortunately, there are many pest control companies offering different services so finding one will not be problem. Here are the most common services they offer:

1. Before purchase pest inspections are a kind of pest control service recommended for all people who plan to buy a house. This is done through contacting a member of the Pest Managers Association to do the inspection and declare whether the house is free from pests or not.

2. Protection for new homes and home extensions. In case the house you bought is declared pest free, you can still use this service to safeguard your furniture. Protect your couch, cabinets and armoires from destructive termites. The experts will apply a chemical to your furniture, and this will keep those unwanted critters away. Some of the usual methods they use are termite barriers and reticulation systems

[theimaginesyouneveraskedfor]

Watch Out Below (Epilogue)

You smoothed your hands over the alabaster silk of the bodice taut around the tightly-laced corset which constricted your ribs. The scars which foretold of your wounds, jagged across your torso, were irritated by the rigid boning and the matching mark across the back of your hand caught your eyes. Turning it over to examine the blemish in the middle of your palm left by Azog’s sword, you forgot the discomfort of your attire.

“Dear?” Dis’ voice drew you back to the stone chamber; bigger than the one you had languished in during your recovery, this one lavishly decorated with silken canopy and finely woven tapestry, “Are you well?”

“Fine,” You lowered your hand evasively and turned to her, keeping your skirts from brushing against the sooty hearth, “Just…anxious,” You reached up and scratched your neck as you avoided her gaze, “Is all this really necessary?”

You glanced over to the deep purple brocade hanging on the front of your armoire, “A wedding and a coronation in one week? If I had known--”

“If you had known you would still be foolishly in love with my brother,” Dis interjected with a chuckle, “And yes, it is absolutely necessary. The people have returned to Erebor and even our cousins of the Iron Hills shall arrive on the morrow. The Mountain is reclaimed and alive once more.”

“How could I have ever forgotten that Thorin was a king?” You grumbled, “Are you sure it isn’t fashionable for tunic and trousers at banquets?”

“I am quite sure,” She shook her head and crossed her arms, “As misplaced as you are in this Mountain, you are the queen Thorin has chosen and you must act the part. And you’ll learn…eventually.”

Before you could react with outrage, a knock came at the door and you both looked to it expectantly. “Who is it?” Dis nearly sang as she crossed the room, pulling open the door an inch before stopping it staunchly with her foot, “Oh, it’s you.” She looked over her shoulder and waved to you, “Behind the screen, dear.”

Begrudgingly, you obeyed her and figured who the unexpected visitor was, giving an exasperated sigh as you hid behind the painted divider. “Come in,” You heard Dis intone and the footsteps which had become all too familiar in their decisiveness.

Thorin cleared his throat and you couldn’t help but grin from your hiding place, “Mahal’s sake, Dis, I cannot even lay eyes on my own betrothed.”

“Not while she’s in her wedding gown,” Dis reproached, “You’ve all the bad fortune as it is, you needn’t any more.”

“Why thank you, blessed sister,” Thorin huffed, “I can only imagine the torture you’re putting Y/N through.”

“No, you couldn’t,” You chimed with a giggle and the heat of Dis’ wrath could be felt through the thin screen.

“You two,” She muttered as she approached the screen and rounded it, motioning you to turn your back to her, “So, brother, why is it you have chosen to visit at such an inopportune time?”

“Must I a reason to visit my fiancée?” He countered as Dis untied the laces of your gown, carefully pushing it down your shoulders, “I’ve come because Dain has arrived and he wishes to meet our future queen before the festivities. The last he had a chance, she was not in the condition for introductions.”

“Dain,” You could hear the dread in Dis’ voice, “Mahal knows he’s our cousin but the dwarf is bawdy and entirely uncouth.” Thorin stifled a chuckle as you heard him pacing the chamber, “You best gird yourself, Y/N, and Thorin,” You stepped out of the dress as Dis continued, “You better not let him rile the girl.”

“Oh, Dis, you are the unforgiving sort, aren’t you?” Thorin chided as Dis handed you a dressing robe and you wrapped it around yourself, “Ever since he surprised you with that beetle under your pillow as a child…”

“His maturity has grown little since then,” Dis led you out from behind the screen, “And you know I make no exaggeration.”

“Yes, yes,” Thorin’s eyes caught yours and he smiled, holding a hand out for you to take, drawing you to him as he seemed to forget his sister, “Y/N,” He held you against him and laid a gentle kiss upon your forehead, “I pray my sister had not treated you so roughly.”

“Not at all,” You lied as the corset once more pinched your ribs, “There is however something I think we should discuss…” You looked over to Dis who was pretending to dust the mantle above the fireplace, “Alone.”

“Y/N,” Dis turned with a flourish, “You know our customs. This best not be a ploy-”

“You really think I’m a child, don’t you?” You released Thorin and put your hands on your hips sharply, “How am I to learn to be a queen if you treat me so? Now, I would like to speak privately with my future husband about an issue which, despite your suspicions, does not involve undressing.”

You could hear Thorin holding back laughter at your insinuations and even Dis appeared amused by your sudden act of resistance, bowing her head to your command. “Of course,” She swept past you, pausing by the door, “See? You will learn to be queen.”

She pulled open the door and disappeared into the corridor and you looked to Thorin who was visibly impressed by your defiance. You smiled with a tilt of your head before your mind returned to the gravity of your worries. You reached out to take Thorin’s hands in yours, steadying yourself, as you thought of how to broach the sensitive subject.

“Thorin, we need to talk…” You saw his face drain of colour and squeezed his hands reassuringly, “About Fili.”

“Fili,” He frowned; you knew he still felt guilty for how he had treated his own nephew, “Yes, I suppose we should,” He gulped and looked around, “Let’s sit then,” He guided you over to the chairs before the hearth, “I don’t think this shall be a conversation easily resolved.”

You lowered yourself stiffly into the chair, cursing the corset which restricted your comfort, and sighed as you readied your thoughts. “Look, I’m just worried about him. I don’t mean to sound so self-concerned but I feel horrid for breaking his heart, and I know you don’t want to think of that but…He’s been so unhappy and he won’t even look at me.” You rubbed your forehead as you reclined weakly against the back of the chair, “We were best friends back on the road. He was the first to be nice to me and he saved my life…And I hurt him.”

“Y/N, please, you can’t hate yourself for that, we do not control our own hearts, as much as we would like to,” He pulled his chair closer and set his hand on your knee kindly, “He’s hurt but he’s strong. He’ll be alright. He’ll find his One.”

“I know he will,” You placed your hand atop his, “Which is what I wanted to talk about. With all the dwarves returned and those from the Iron Hills to add to those numbers, is there not a chance that his One may just be within our corridors at this very moment?”

“Oh, Mahal, you’ve been spending too much time with Dis.”

“Please, Thorin, we must help him find his One,” You pleaded as you leaned forward, “It’s the only way.”

“And how would we do that?” Thorin wrinkled his brow doubtfully.

“Um, well, I’m not sure,” Your reached up and ran your fingers across your lips thoughtfully, Thorin’s hand squeezing your knee and you looked up to find him watching you intently.

“Don’t tease me,” He kidded and you pulled your hand from your lips, “I…might know of a way. It’s absurd and likely a fool’s game but dwarves are the superstitious type.”

“Oh?” You wondered hopefully, “What is it?”

“Well we need a few things but those will be easy enough to acquire,” His eye sparkled slyly, “It’s an old dwarven rite. Outdated and widely forgotten, but I’ve read of it in some dusty old book,” He removed his hand from your knee and leaned against the arm of his chair as he explained, “We have a cake baked and we place a single button in the batter. Traditionally, this button would belong to the one whom seeks to find their One but seeing as we are to do this without Fili’s knowing, we’ll use a pea.”

“Okay?” You were confused but listened on, hoping to find some sense in Thorin’s ploy.

“But we need something which marks the cake with Fili’s essence…so we take one of his knives and we make sure that the cake is sliced with his own blade, otherwise, it will not work.”

“It does not sound as if it will--”

“Y/N, I know it sounds ridiculous and I’m not saying it will work, but we’ve no other option, have we?” He sighed before he continued, “Now, because the will have been marked with Fili’s touch, the pea will be found in the slice of cake belonging to his One. And as long as that pea is not found by Dain himself, we can at least hope that it distracts Fili from his misery.”

“I don’t know, Thorin. Not to be rude, but you dwarves have some strange beliefs.”

“We do, but as I said, this is an old rite, not used since the time of my great grandfather, but it is how he met my great grandmother,” Thorin shrugged and have a hopeless smile, “I don’t know that it’ll work but what else do we have?”

“I guess,” You bit your lip and once more caught Thorin staring at the small gesture with longing, “We’ll give it a try.”

“Now, we just have to figure out how to get one of Fili’s knives,” Thorin scratched his beard, “You’re good at being sneaky, I think I’ll leave that part to you.”

“As always, I have to do all the grunt work,” You shook your head in remonstrance, “But I can’t trust you to do anything…it’ll be done.”

A silence overtook you as you began to conspire with yourself and Thorin seemed content to watch you squirm. As it was, the two of you were allowed little time to yourself and Dis would undoubtedly be knocking shortly to make sure there was nothing untowards going on. Setting aside thoughts of Fili, you smiled at Thorin, reaching over to take his hand once more. You would enjoy the chance to bask in his presence and worry about his nephew later.

Your wedding had finally arrived though Dis had been more eager for it than any. Thorin had decided that your nuptials would be the better opportunity to find his nephew his One. You were still skeptical of the whole ‘pea-in-a-cake’ plan but nonetheless, you had stolen one of Fili’s knives with the aid of his brother. Kili was uninformed of the reason why you needed the blade but was all too pilfer it as his brother had become dull company.

You had handed the stolen dagger off to Thorin as you would be spending your morning being strapped into your ivory wedding gown, one which you would not conceal the knife effectively.

Dis brushed out your hair, as soft of silk from the oil she had be applying to it for the last months. Your locks hung loose down your back, your off-the-shoulder gown leaving bear the flesh of your throat and a hint of your chest, amplified by the corset tight around your torso. You had never imagined yourself looking so…royal.

Gripping the skirts of your gown nervously, Dis swatted your hands away from the fragile silk and proceeded to bring a necklace of sapphire around your neck, admiring it in the mirror from behind you. “Thorin forged this himself,” She informed you, “He delivered it just last night.”

“Really?” You reached up and touched the teardrop gem, marveling at the delicate silver links which held onto it, “Should I have--”

“Don’t you worry yourself, dear, I took care of that for you,” She preened, “I know you’ve been overwhelmed so I had a pin crafted for him. He’ll be wearing it, a ruby, you’ll see. I told him you chose it yourself.”

“Dis, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, I did,” She ran her fingers through your hair before turning you to face her, “Now, after the vows, you will kneel and Thorin will braid your hair and he will do the same in kind. Remember how I showed you. It is a very specific type of braid and you must do it correctly.”

“I know, I know,” You had been practicing the very weave she spoke of nightly at her insistence, “You’ve taught me well.”

“Well…” She brought her hand up to cradle your cheek as she considered your appearance, “I daresay you look a queen. And I know you will be a wonderful wife to my brother,” To your surprise, she pulled you forward into an embrace, “At the end of this day, you shall be my sister and I am proud at the title.”

“Dis, I--” Your breath caught in your throat, “Me, too.”

“Now,” She pulled away from you and smiled, “Go make my brother a happy man…and you keep him in line. It’s all up to you now.”

You had made it through the ceremony without misstep. Thorin’s hair was presentable though he had likely done a much better job on yours. You had complimented the ruby pin upon his silver brocade and he had admired the blue sapphire hanging over your neckline. So distracted were you by the nuptials and the hustle and bustle of moving from vows to feast, that when the cake was presented, you nearly exclaimed in recollection.

Thorin led you to the table were the cake was laid out and the hall went silent, thousands of eyes focused on the two of you. “Dwarves and dams of Erebor and the Iron Hills, I thank you for attending today’s celebrations. We are all overjoyed that the Mountain has been reclaimed and may it never be taken from our blood again,” Thorin smiled as he looked around the crowd, his eyes finally landing on you, “My wife and new queen, shall have the honour of cutting the cake this day, and in this rite, she marks rebirth of Erebor and of dwarven glory.”

Thorin reached into his overcoat and brought for the blade you had secreted from his nephew. He handed you the knife and you peeked up at Fili who did not seem to recognize it. You took it and steadied the shaking of your hand, sharing a knowing look with your husband. “I hope this works,” You whispered.

“Just cut the damn cake,” He gritted through a smile and you did as he said, sliding the silver into the spongy dessert.

You began to set out the thin pieces onto small silver plates and servants took them lithely, dispersing them among the guests. You kept your mind on the task of cutting the cake and when at last finished portioning the immaculate dessert, you set aside the knife and Thorin took your hand. “Now we wait,” He mumbled as he bowed his head to the guest who began to chatter and guided you to the royal dais where two slices of cake awaited you.

You sat alongside Thorin but could not even think of eating. You looked across the hall anxiously as other’s indulged and you felt a tugging at your sleeve. “Just relax,” Thorin chided, “And eat your cake.”

“You’re a rather demanding husband,” You squinted at him playfully, “We haven’t even reached our wedding night--”

“Soon enough,” A grin spread across his face and he shifted in his chair, “Which is what you should be worrying about and not my nephew,” He leaned in and his nose brushed across your cheek as his voice lowered to sultry tone, “I do hope your more graceful in bed than on your feet.”

“Hey,” You swatted his shoulder and chuckled bashfully, “It is still early enough for an annulment, dear husband.”

“Sure,” He kissed your cheek before leaning back in his chair, “Let’s not fight before our subjects, my love.”

You scoffed at his joke and dug your fork into your cake, looking out once more as your mind drifted back to the royal nephew. You found him along the table and he stared at his plate dully. You felt the pit in your stomach return and you couldn’t help but frown. You had lost your closest friend in this world and it was all your own fault. You leaned back and hung your head, Thorin touching your hand to draw your attention. He gave you a sympathetic smile and you tried to return the gesture, a sudden exclamation ringing out.

“Ew,” A dam with deep red hair held up a small orb and her friend giggled as she flicked it away, the following comments unheard. Thorin shared a conspiratorial look with you but you still had no clue how a pea would draw Fili to the dam.

“Just wait,” Thorin assured you, noticing your confused grimace, “And stop worrying so much.”

“I just don’t get it,” You dropped your fork, “You dwarves are crazy.”

“Hey, don’t say that so loud in a room full of dwarves,” He chuckled, “In a few minutes, the dancing will begin and you’ll see. Love has its ways. It brought us together, didn’t it?”

“Yes, I suppose,” You thought of the preposterous odds which had seen you falling atop Thorin’s very head, “Though it didn’t exactly start out so well.”

“Don’t start,” He warned, “I already feel bad enough,” He took your hand and ran his thumb across the scar that rippled the skin, “For all the pain I caused you.”

“I was only saying,” You grinned, “Besides, I forgave you, didn’t I?”

“Doesn’t all seem like it,” He grumbled and kissed the scar on your hand, “Not with the way you carry on about it.”

You giggled and a horn blast silenced the hall, the band striking up the first song of the night. Keeping your hand in his, Thorin rose and motioned you to follow. You did so reluctantly and guided you along the table and down the steps to the floor where a throng of eager dancers were gathering and the king turned you to face him.

“Thorin, no,” You cringed, “I can’t dance. Please, all those lessons I’ve been taking. I still can’t put one foot in front of the other.”

“I know, but I didn’t marry you for your grace,” He kidded and you growled at him in return, “Besides, I won’t let you fall. Not again. Just follow my lead.”

Thorin put his arm around you and helped you fall into step, your toes colliding with his as he patiently guided you. You laughed each time you stepped on his feet and he was just as amused by your lack of coordination. A few songs in and you had managed to gain a sense of rhythm and lost yourself in the ribaldry of the crowd.

“Y/N,” Thorin said as the music slowed and you leaned against him breathlessly, “Look.”

He directed your attention across the hall and you were stunned to see Fili with a smile on your face. In your distraction, you had forgotten about the royal nephew. He had not looked anything but forlorn since you had rejected him and so the joy which coloured his features surprised you. The dam with the curly red hair clung to him, sharing the same boisterous laughter, as they danced mocklingly to the downbeat music.

“Did it work?” You looked up at Thorin who beamed over at his nephew, “How?”

“I told you,” He smirked down at you, leaning down to nuzzle his nose into your hair, “Love finds a way,” He pulled you closer so that your head was against his chest, “You showed me that, Y/N.”

You smiled as you let yourself melt into the warmth of Thorin’s body against yours, swaying with him to the music as you fell into a meditative state. All your worries floated away on the melody of the band’s song and you sighed blissfully against your husband. He was right, love always found away, even if it was throwing you off a cliff.

[spoopy-eneko]

HOPY SHIT BEETLE ARMOIRE!!!!!!!

Is it too soon to share another awesomely creative piece of furniture? No way! This one-of-a-kind insectoid armoire is called the BUG and it was designed Latvian designer Janis Straupe of True Latvia. Full of customizable shelves, drawers, cubbies and even a few secret compartments, it’s a beautifully functional piece of furniture as well as an amazing work of art.

Click here to learn more about the BUG and its myriad features.

If only Kafka could’ve see this…

[via Yanko Design]

[pencilash76-blog]

Services Offered By Pest Control Companies

When buying a house, you do everything just to find the best one. ants removal service should be safe, fits your budget, and accommodates you and your family's needs. One safety concern that you should immediately check is if the house is free of pests. This is absolutely important if you want to live a healthy and comfortable life. You wouldn't want your kids to be bitten by ants, or your house's foundation to be infested with termites, right? To make sure that you're not throwing away your money on a property that is pest infested, consider requesting for a building and pest inspection. A pest inspection will help you determine if the house is a good investment. If you have chosen a property that sits in an area where pests are common, you'd have to do the inspection immediately. Beetles, silverfish, termites, ants, wasps, moths, fleas and the likes have no room in your new home so don't even think twice about getting it checked. Should you be living alone, ensuring that your home is pest free is still a must especially if you plan to sell the property in the future. It will be a lot harder to get the house out of your hand if you have pests as houseguests. Fortunately, there are many pest control companies offering different services so finding one will not be problem. Here are the most common services they offer: 1. Before purchase pest inspections are a kind of pest control service recommended for all people who plan to buy a house. This is done through contacting a member of the Pest Managers Association to do the inspection and declare whether the house is free from pests or not. 2. Protection for new homes and home extensions. In case the house you bought is declared pest free, you can still use this service to safeguard your furniture. Protect your couch, cabinets and armoires from destructive termites. The experts will apply a chemical to your furniture, and this will keep those unwanted critters away. Some of the usual methods they use are termite barriers and reticulation systems.

[tipstosellhomefast]

New Post has been published on Homes Below Market | Homes For Sale Dallas TX Area

New Post has been published on http://foreclosures-dallas-texas.com/getting-the-classic-french-style-in-your-home-6/

Getting The Classic French Style In Your Home

Are you looking for to get the classic French layout in your home, well do not emphasize you do not have to speak French to acquire the style. It’s simple to acquire the style, merely look at the sticking to directions.

Utilized, made use of, splendidly constructing nonetheless insufficient tools and elements are specifically just what French country layout relates to. They do not should have smooth lines, terrific china or grey, white, and black tones. They have sturdy lumber tables, blooms, vibrantly developed drapes, paddings and couches styled after the look of Provence, which borders the Mediterranean Sea.

If you’re intending to understand the French look, you should look for factors like split lumber beam, rounded panels, hand-carved styles in addition to raw material flooring covering along with wall surface areas, like rock or blocks. Unequal plaster wall surface areas or raw distressed lumber might also offer you the French Country setting.

In the layout having a spider split in the paint or small discoloration of the paint just consists of character. Do not stress concerning managing all those defects.

Some structure features are shutters for your house windows, slim deeply minimized house window sills, as well as sweet striped fabric awnings over house windows which prevents the heat from escaping.

, if you just want a little bit of French flare to your house without as well much modification to you���re floor coverings as well as wall surface areas.. You can look for rustic home furnishings, big rectangle-shaped form or round wooding dining-room tables with a monotonous waxed or natural finish. Dining-room chairs have a ladderback layout or upright slats to it.

, if you’re aiming to acquire chairs or approximate tables you have to search for curved or boast toned designs in the woodwork. Significant armoires complement the concept, offering you a location to maintain dishes, sheets garments or whatever you desire.

The adhering to activity would absolutely be to decorate your residence with tools and products. You have to use toile item, a fragile bedding or cotton, in white, cream or yellow with extreme different tones. You can pick designs like apes, 18th century dating scenes as well as Chinese patterns which are control French designs.

Try to find substantial, greatly woven baskets, sturdy clay or old steel containers, iron lawn shelving gadgets, in addition to Chinese ceramic all fit in with the French theme. Which indicates you can acquire ceramic plates, ceramic floor tiles, table bed linens and drapes that have either chickens, sunflowers, lavender or beetles. You might preserve some car loan if you get these at flea markets as well as antique stores.

The last touches would absolutely be blooms. Fresh blooms would definitely be superb, blooms such as lavender, sunflowers as well as geraniums are exceptional to give you the French country layout you’re looking for.

You can put the blooms in copper pots, flowerpot, glass blossom owners or old containers. You should use a choice of tones along with make the configurations not also simple or classy. Another country French look is natural lawns.

It does not issue if you want to go all out or just change a pair of factors in your residence to achieve the French country look. You can use any type of among these principle to acquire a little of Provence country right into you’re home.

Used, place on, splendidly developing nevertheless insufficient gadgets in addition to elements are precisely just what French country style is about. They have sturdy lumber tables, blooms, remarkably developed drapes, couches and pillows styled after the look of Provence, which borders the Mediterranean Sea.

You might seek rustic home furnishings, big rectangle-shaped form or round wooding consuming area tables with an uninteresting waxed or natural finish. Seek substantial, greatly woven baskets, husky clay or old steel containers, iron lawn shelving gadgets, in addition to Chinese ceramic all fit in with the French design. An extra country French look is natural grass.

Made usage of, utilized, splendidly constructing nonetheless insufficient gadgets as well as additionally elements are specifically just what French country style has to do with. If you just prefer a little bit of French flare to your house without as well much change to you’re floor coverings as well as wall surface areas. You might pick designs like apes, 18th century dating scenes as well as likewise Chinese patterns which are control French designs.

Look for significant, greatly woven baskets, husky clay or old steel containers, iron lawn shelving gadgets, as well as Chinese ceramic all fit in with the French theme. Look for massive, greatly woven baskets, sturdy clay or old steel containers, iron backyard shelving tools, as well as Chinese ceramic all fit in with the French design.

[iihih]

The Carved Beetle Cabinet by Janis Straupe

The Carved Beetle Cabinet by Janis Straupe

The Carved Beetle Cabinet by Janis Straupe, a Latvian artist, is a one of a kind piece that took over three months to create. (more…)