#build a doorway to create or enforce inside and outside

[swallowtailed]

give way to open sky.

[biteofcherry]

A little slice of something sweet&spicy for @alexakeyloveloki on her bithday! 🍰🎉💗

A follow-up to Cherry

soft!dark enforcer Steve Rogers x female reader

warnings: soft!dark Steve; hints of power imbalance; hint of innocence/corruption kink; hint of breeding kink; explicit se*ual situations;

You swallowed nervously as you walked up to the door of an expensive-looking house in the hills. The gate was wide open, two dark cars parked in the driveway. There was no sign of Steve's camaro, but maybe it was hidden in the huge garage in the separate building you passed.

The house looked like a renovated mid-century style and though you couldn't see it, you suspected there was a big swimming pool in the backyard.

The thought of which instantly created an image of Steve emerging from it - water dripping down his sculpted body, shimmering on the colorful ink of his tattoos.

You still haven't seen them, only the glimpse of those stretching up to his wrists and over his neck.

Jesus, you closed your eyes, once again feeling a wave of shame wash over you.

You met Steve two days ago. He was a complete stranger, with an aura of darkness that should make you run away.

Instead, you flew to him like a moth to a flame.

You allowed him to consume you the very first time you met him; hell, you were still trembling at the memory of the way he fucked you in his car, then right outside your apartment.

It could be just an adventure. A crazy one time thing you can brag about to your friends, for once having something really spicy to talk of.

But you kept the little piece of paper with Steve's address and dolled yourself up to meet him on the day he asked you.

Though the voice of reason yelled at you to at least have some doubts, you didn't hesitate for a single second as you put on a cute summer dress, a pair of bow sandals, and pink panties that already had a little wet spot, because you couldn't help thinking about what Steve was going to do to you on your date.

Nothing happened for a long moment after you rang the doorbell, your nervousness heightening in fear of being ignored. But then the door opened and you lifted up your gaze to look at a tall, bulky blonde man in what could be only described as surfer's style attire.

His long, wavy hair matched that vibe as well.

"Well, hello there." He grinned. "Whatever you're selling, I'm buying two of it."

A small laugh escaped your lips, which seemed to make the huge hunk's smile widen.

"I'm- um, I'm supposed to meet Steve," you explained, clenching your fingers tighter around your purse.

"Ah, the five o'clock meeting he wouldn't disclose the details of. Come on in." The guy moved aside to let you pass. "He's finishing a previous meeting, but I'm sure he'll be happy to know you're already waiting."

He led you through the sunny house to an ajar door, through which you could hear scraps of conversation.

Steve's voice you recognized right away.

He spoke firmer than when he was talking to you, giving clipped commands and harsh critique. You'd never want him to use that tone with you.

"Your next meeting is here." Surfer guy simply walked inside the office.

He moved to take a seat in one of the chairs, while you stood there in the open door like a deer caught in headlights.

You felt like that, too.

Because the moment you stepped in the doorway of the office, your eyes landed right on Steve.

He was sitting behind a desk, his dark green shirt unbuttoned halfway and the sleeves rolled up. More tattoos were on display, as well a tiny glint of a golden chain around his neck.

His blue eyes zeroed in on you; his gaze moved up your body slowly, taking every inch as if he was already imagining every single detail of what he was going to do to you and how will you look taking it all.

Then his attention shifted to a group of men sprawled on a couch on the side of the office.

"Your incompetence made me late for my date." He said to them and there wasn't even a slightest hint of playfulness to his tone.

He made it sound as if they did a severe offence to him and he was a step away from making them pay for it.

You had no idea what line of work Steve dabbed in, but it sounded like a serious business with dire consequences. Now you felt like you were an intruder who should leave, or else Steve's annoyance will shift to you.

However, when Steve's eyes returned to you, the steely glint in them morphed into softness.

"Come here, Cherry," he slid his chair back and motioned for you to walk over to him.

Your heartrate quickened as you felt eyes on you when you fully stepped inside. You tried not to glance at any of the other men in the room, instead allowing Steve to hold your gaze and lure you into his flame.

You let out a surprised gasp when Steve pulled you into his lap the moment you rounded the desk.

One of your hands touched his chest as you braced yourself at the sudden change in position. Steve's skin was warm beneath your fingers, dark blonde curls of his chest hair tickling your palm slightly.

You quickly moved your hand away, embarrassed that you touched him so openly while strangers were watching.

Steve didn't seem to mind it. He took your hand and lifted it to his lips to brush a soft kiss on your knuckles. Then he placed your hand back on his chest, while his own landed on your thigh.

Unabashedly high, almost slipping beneath your sundress.

"You're exactly on time, Cherry. You really are a good girl, aren't you?" He mused quietly, squeezing your flesh.

"Yes, Steve," your gaze dropped down and you tucked in your chin.

Steve studied you for a moment longer then turned his attention back to the others in the room.

"You have your orders and you better follow them exactly." Cold edge of his voice made you want to bury your face in the crook of his neck to avoid his wrath.

"Thor, make sure they make no mistakes this time. Now leave. All of you."

You didn't lift your head even after you heard the last footsteps fading away, your gaze lingering on the twirls of ink on Steve's chest as your own heart hammered in your ribcage.

You were acutely aware there was just the two of you now left. And as much as it was what you wanted, your nervousness bloomed.

Steve cupped your chin and made you look up at him.

"I'm sorry for running late on our date, Cherry. I promise that what I have planned should make it up to you."

"But-" suddenly his charming smile twisted into a hungry smirk as both of his hands slid to your hips- "those imbeciles have worked me up and I need to take the edge off before we leave."

In a swift single move he hoisted you up onto his desk.

"With how stiff and shy you are on me now, I think you need to get off, too."

He spread your legs apart - not that you put up much of a fight - and moved his chair closer.

Steve flipped the skirt of your dress up and traced his fingers across the pink cotton of your panties. He pressed his thumb against your clit, right above a small wet spot of your arousal.

"I see you're eager for our date," he chuckled, rubbing your clit harder and watching the wet stain spread.

Your hands clenched on the edge of the desk when Steve pulled the fabric of your panties aside and inched his mouth closer.

"I bet you're sweet all over, sweet Cherry."

He took a taste with a swipe of his tongue, licking between your slick folds and flicking the tip over your clit.

Your hips bucked and your head fell back when he repeated the motion, this time in three rapid strokes. Then his mouth descended on you, biting into your pussy as if it was a juicy fruit.

You weren't sure if you came when his tongue flicked between your opening and your anus, or when Steve's mouth closed around your clit and sucked. Or maybe it was two orgasms melting into one.

Your eyelids were clenched shut and your head swimming when his fingers curled around the front of your neck. With a hand around your throat, Steve pushed you back until you lied down on the desk fully, while he stood up.

A clink of a buckle being undone reached your mushy brain and your eyes fluttered open. Just to see Steve pushing his zipper down.

His cock sprang free; big and thick and veiny.

Your cunt clenched, hungry to feel the stretch of him leave you sore again.

Steve pumped himself a few times before inching forward between your splayed thighs.

"W-wait," your hand reached up as last, barely functioning brain cells reminded you of something important.

Steve paused, as you asked, squeezing his shaft tighter. The sight of it made you drool, your thoughts threatening to melt away. But you managed to stay focused for a second longer.

"Condom. Do you have- can you put one on?" You asked, looking up at Steve with uncertainty.

You wanted him to use one, but you weren't sure if you'd really be able to stop it all if he refused to. You wanted him inside of you too much.

"Condom?" Steve quirked a brow in surprise, studying you.

"Yes, please. I'm not on birth control," you admitted, gulping nervously.

Steve's blue eyes darkened as your words sank in. He stepped closer, bare cock inches from your dripping, unprotected pussy.

"Sweet Cherry, you let me take your pretty, tight pussy raw, even though you could've ended up pregnant?"

His voice was a sinful temptation and his dirty words made your walls clench around nothing.

"Yes," you admitted, ashamed.

"Why, hm?" He resumed slow strokes of his cock as he put his other hand right above your pussy, spreading his fingers wide on your abdomen and dipping his thumb between your folds.

Because I wanted you so bad.

Because I needed you inside me at any cost.

Because I liked that you branded me with your cum.

Because I didn't care what you do to me as long as you kept doing it.

"I don't know." You bit your bottom lip. "I wasn't thinking about the consequences. I wasn't thinking at all. I just- I want to be responsible now."

"What a good, smart girl you are," Steve praised, brushing his thumb along your clit.

He reached into his back pocket and withdrew a short strip of foil packets. He ripped one open and rolled a condom on.

His hand returned to your throat as he pressed the head of his cock against your slick opening.

"We'll be responsible, Cherry," he leaned over you and kissed you softly.

"For now," he added in a dark rasp while thrusting deep into you.

And then he took you, with the same unrelenting force that left you boneless and moaning. Steve praised that you sounded sweet and needy; you thought you sounded more of a whore. You didn't care anyway, because the way he was making you feel was maddening good.

You came around him once, the second climax Steve forced out of you with a hand choking the air out of you and a pinch to your clit.

He finished with a groan; lips parted and face flushed, possessive glint in his eyes as he watched you twitch beneath him.

If he wasn't planning on keeping to his promise and taking you out on a proper, nice date, he wouldn't empty into the condom, but instead withdraw from your sweet cunt and come all over your pretty sundress.

But Steve was a man of his word.

So he tossed the used rubber into the bin, helped you clean yourself up, then readjusted your dress and helped your wobbly legs walk outside.

He could ruin you more when he took you back home later.

[calleo-bricriu]

1943

(( Larger resolution pics of the cards can be found here.  ))

@absintheabsence​

Of course, of course the first thing Calleo did when Grindelwald allowed him to have his deck of cards out was shuffle the deck a few times and offer a smile that could cut glass.

That likely left little doubt as to who Calleo was going to aim the damned things at. A stupid move, for certain, but one took petty revenge where one could while being kept locked in--admittedly, a tower room was nicer than a dungeon prison cell, but a cage is a cage no matter how nicely decorated it is.

Had he been sitting across a desk from Grindelwald, he'd have simply thrown the cards to  land in front of the other Wizard. In this case, there was no such desk or table. The Emperor had stopped in the doorway when he realised Calleo had started shuffling the deck.

"Kind of you to allow me to continue as the last time I left it, you were still consistently a sword filled tower." The first card Calleo flicked at Grindelwald came to a halt angled and facing him.

"Justice. Interesting start. Considering how consistent they've been in the past where you're concerned, I highly doubt you'll be the one dealing karmic justice and laying consequences onto others in the process." Calleo shrugged lightly, curling up into the chair he'd been occupying normally.

"Even more interesting..." the second and third cards, flicked toward Grindelwald in the same manner as the first, took their respective spots. The Hierophant next to Justice, and the Two of Swords next to the Hierophant.

"It's not a Tower, not yet at any rate, but you're being driven to a stalemate when it comes to this push toward what one might consider 'traditional values' from your own. A push for conformity from people who were set in their ways long before you met them."

Calleo's head tilted in its typical bird-like fashion, "And you don't know what to do about that, do you? They're under your control--or, rather, they’re allowing you to have that illusion for the time being--but beyond it at the same time and you've let it go too long to pull them back in line without risking the whole tapestry unraveling--so you're going to right on denying that such a rift could possibly exist, let alone that it's quickly moving toward at point in which you'll be caught right in the middle."

"Divided loyalties, torn between two relationships, the need to face your fears and the truth that goes along with it and a complete inability to do either."

Calleo's hand rested on the top card of the deck, "You could end it now or you could keep pushing forward." The glint that had been present in Calleo's smile, now fully lit his eyes.

"We'll go with the rational path first; the one where you realise this has all got way out of hand and you put an end to it." The card that ended up flung off to the lower left of Justice came up the Ace of Pentacles, followed by the Page of Cups and the Five of Cups.

"There, now, you see? You'll have some losses, but that's to be expected if you're putting the kibosh on a good number of your current staff's ideology and, overall, the outcome is a good one; prosperity, financial and political success, mended relationships--but you're not going to go that route, are you, Emperor?" There was an emphasis on the title that seemed...off. Not sarcastic or passive-aggressive, just...not right. "That would mean admitting fault, or that you'd made missteps, and Merlin knows that's not a thing you'd ever admit to anyone."

"More likely," three more cards were flicked in Grindelwald's direction, taking their places starting below the Two of Swords and extending out, "you're going to continue to assume that your creativity and inspiration will be enough to guide them and your assumption is that it will be successful and bring your little created 'family' back into one cohesive circle again, which it absolutely will not."

"As it begins and continues to crumble and you try to keep everything held together and appear as a united front to anyone on the outside, anyone on the inside will know better and you'll be overloaded, stressed, feeling taken for granted by those around you, and will end up picking up what others drop in an effort to keep it all from falling to pieces, which will only circle back and continue to drag you down to such a degree that you'd be willing to take any end in sight, even one--by this point--that would result in both your death and the death of your empire."

"Ah, there you are!" the last card Calleo flicked Grindelwald's way settled beneath the path Calleo thought more likely.

The Tower.

"And, as you always have in the past when this one has shown up, you'll try to take as much with you in the fall. Of course, the Tower always has an element of rebuilding around it, though most who get it can't see the forest for the trees when all they're staring in the face again is an inevitable and spectacularly destructive fall from grace."

Nobody in their right mind should or would have been as relaxed as Calleo appeared but, Calleo had been of the mindset for several years that if Grindelwand wanted to kill him he'd simply kill him, not keep him around for entertainment. And, arguably, he hadn’t been in his right mind for decades anyway.

Calleo waved a hand lazily, "Let's get rid of that branch we both know you're not about to take and see what gets rebuilt from the ruins of the Tower, shall we?"

The Ace of Pentacles, Page of Cups, and Five of Cups dutifully got out of the way and came to rest on the table next to Calleo's chair. The other cards shifted as a group to allow other cards room to build from the wreckage of the Tower.

This time, Calleo didn't stop at drawing six. As he drew cards this time, not yet showing them to Grindelwald, his expression changed from one of almost gleeful prediction of Grindelwald's downfall into confusion.

"That--hm. Apologies, you'll need to give me a moment."

This time, the cards were flicked toward the doorway in one large group of fourteen, seven on each row.

"Unexpected, but to pare it down, it looks as though you're going to rebuild yourself into something useful and stable. Eventually. Though, not on your own. The first three cards show that; regaining confidence and a sense of freedom, moving forward, personal growth--inexplicably that one also can indicate long distance romance, which makes a bit more sense when taking into account that that plus all the indicators of security, kindness, warmth, success, optimism, joy, good luck for a damn change, a renewed enthusiasm for life in general, becoming more open--all of that will come from within but will be lit by an external source."

Calleo's expression now was significantly more neutral. "And that source will be someone who is older--not necessarily older than you, just an older adult, who is stable, dependable, protective, practical, and wickedly good at business.”

“Reiterated by the King of Cups; someone who, in addition to the previous card's indications, is relatively calm, tends to be sympathetic and caring, tolerant to a fault, good at keeping things in balance, easy going, and devoted to those he's decided are worthy of that devotion.”

“And apart from the generally boring sort I just described, the Queen of Wands brings in independent, confident, chaotic, and passionate energy and who is amazing at handling a lot of tasks at once, keeping them all organised, and taking charge when necessary--and doing so without being overbearing or forceful about it.”

“They'll bring with them new ideas, new visions that stem from mental clarity and intellectual ability both of which come from everything else I just said," he squinted at the card, "Intense, focused, able to wield authority when it's needed to enforce what they feel is the correct decision, able to follow through and communicate, as well as shift focus and tactics if the original plans don't go quite to plan."

"More reiteration of the last row with the Empress,” Calleo now sounded almost bored at the cards’ repetition, “even more reiteration with Strength, though that one does give the indication that through the other apparently infinitely patient person's efforts you'll get the support you need to overcome crippling self-doubt and regain some level of inner strength, compassion, and self-control."

"Not that it'll be all that stable at the start," the Moon card illuminated itself, "you'll have a good lot of instability, anxiety, fear, misreading of whatever the situation is, and it'll all be fueled by deep seated insecurity centered around fears of being lied to or used."

Calleo shook his head and laughed while moving on to the next card, "I have absolutely no idea who could possibly have the amount of patience required to both get you to that point and past it but someone obviously does; whoever it is, it's someone you've got a lot of shared values with and who is likely a hell of a lot more like you than they'd ever care to admit but begrudgingly will as, all those other cards, give a strong indication that they'd never be able to walk away and leave you to whatever fate it is you land in that'll have left you an anxious wreck."

"Next one," the King of Wands waved his spiky club, "appears to describe--in this context anyway--a combination of personality traits of the two people already described; you know the drill: Confident, experienced, charming, easy sense of humour, largely fearless, highly motivated, passionate, dependable, protective, but can also be a little controlling or hot tempered and at a point in life in which neither of them necessarily cares if they're seen as odd."

"And nearing the end, I might normally consider this a negative as it can mean abandonment, however, in the context of the other cards, I'm inclined to think it means letting go of and walking away from the past, as tiring as that may be, the last few cards will have provided enough emotional strength and self-discovery to allow for it even if it is difficult."

"Knight of Swords seems oddly out of place," Calleo shrugged lazily and stretched while he kept speaking, "though it could simply be describing the sort of person you end up being after rebuilding what is hopefully not another tower; assertive, impatient, impulsive, daring, rebellious, ambitious, risk-taker, progressive thinking, all of that which," that knife-edged grin returned, "is how I suspect you already think of yourself now and know damn well is an illusion you've created for yourself."

“Funny thing is, that’s the same card that showed up describing you in--” Calleo blinked and caught himself, smiling politely and shaking his head, “--it’s not relevant. Yet.”

"We both know this deck has consistently described you as you are now with the Tower surrounded by the less pleasant Swords, and the fact that it’s changed to the Knight of Swords is...interesting."

"Looks as though you're going to cheerfully self-destruct, while taking as many people with you as you can manage on the way down, as this deck has consistently indicated only after this Tower hits, you'll slowly rebuild--with the assistance of someone else, it appears--into a reasonably decent person." Any of what Calleo had been saying could have been more than enough to earn him some sort of very likely very painful punishment for the blatant disrespect but, out of it all, that last statement may have easily been the one that sealed it.

[skycrystal23]

Markus x Leader!Reader

Summary: You are the leader of another major group fighting for android rights in Detroit. You had plans on how to go about a revolution until the leader of Jericho, Markus, shatters any plan you had by sticking his face on Stratford Tower’s news network. Now you would like a word with the famed deviant leader. 

Characters: Markus, North, Reader 

Warnings: Death 

Words: 4 300 {approx.}

    How did everything fall into your hands the way that it did? How did you become a reputable leader of an android refugee group? It boggled your mind as you sat in your small room in the abandoned factory, it used to be a closet, with your head in your hands. There were dozens of abandoned factories all across America. With the unemployment rate so low traditional factories like this one were left to rot. Androids replaced humans in many ways when it came to the workforce. They didn’t require food, water, sleep – they were perfect. The best part was that large companies could purchase androids and not have to pay them a salary to perform their job.

    Your father, a fairly rich and arrogant man, had a very poor outlook of androids. He was a cruel man and treated androids worse than trash. Several things happened in your life that you wished could be erased that all led up to you abruptly running away. Of course, your father noticed your absence almost immediately the next morning. For a few months you laid low and kept out of the more populated areas of Detroit. The attention around your mysterious and sudden disappearance ceased as soon as that PL600 android held a little girl hostage at the edge of a skyscraper.

    It was eerie how different you were from your father. Perhaps you got your more empathetic soft side from your mother? You never really knew her; she died when you were four in a boating accident when she went on vacation with some of her peers. You would remember how your father would speak of her after a few glasses of whiskey, “Your mother always thought that these things were alive y’know? I believe she was going nuts.” Your mother had a special place made just for her in your heart. Maybe once upon a time your father was a kind, chivalrous, empathetic man before your mother died. It was a belief you clung onto even this very day.

    Somehow you ended up creating this refuge for androids and humans alike. There were still plenty of people who felt for the beings constructed of wires and biocomponents. Not everyone resented androids. Your group didn’t really have a name; people just knew this was a safe place. You were pulled from your thoughts when there was a loud knock at the door of your closet sized room. A sigh escaped your lips as you stood and opened the door to reveal Sara, a close friend of yours who just so happened to be an android. She was a PM700 android with short dark hair, hazel eyes, and mocha skin.

    Ever since you first met her she has been constantly changing and carving out her own personality with every decision she makes. It was fascinating to watch someone you care for find out who they want to be and what they like and don’t like. “There’s been some talk around the city; our birds have been hearing whispers about Jericho’s next move in the revolution.” She said quietly, turning her head to see if anyone else was around. The ‘birds’ were actually a group of androids and humans you sent out to recruit, gain information and save those in dire situations. Ever since this ‘Markus’ individual caused an uproar after hacking into a news feed running out of Stratford Tower tensions have been high.

    More and more androids were stumbling their way into the abandoned factory either lost, injured, or both. Jericho wasn’t the only group in Detroit fighting for android freedom. You knew of other groups that were significantly smaller when compared to your own group and Jericho. You also knew of people helping androids outside of the city, helping them across the border. The difference between your group and Jericho was that you had humans, like yourself, that wanted to help. They sought your group out themselves and volunteered in exchange for shelter and food. This factory wasn’t much but it was home to many androids and humans.

    A good chunk of humans here were runaways like you. You weren’t exactly young anymore and were in fact an adult but that still didn’t stop your father from originally sending out search parties and broadcasts. After all, you were his heir and his only child; for you to suddenly act out and disappear like this certainly made him look bad to his inner circle of rich snobs. You wanted better for yourself and you knew your mother would be proud to see what you were doing if she was here now. “What do we know about Markus?” you asked as the two of you walked down a dim corridor.

“You would have to ask James. I’m not allowed access to encrypted Cyberlife servers but with the amount of time he spends on his computers I am almost positive he’ll have an answer.” Sara said rolling her eyes.

    The two of you entered the main area of the mostly gutted factory. It was bustling with humans and androids trying to get a task done or figure out what to do with themselves. Up above there were suspended walkways that led to the main smaller building located in the middle of the factory. That smaller building within the building used to be a security terminal but was now used as both James’ room and the meeting area where you would discuss plans of action and how to deal with the slow increase of people. The two of you approached the old security terminal and pushed open the rusted doorway.

    There was a small staircase that led upstairs to the main area of the operation. The steps squeaked in protest underneath your weight as you jogged up and into the larger room. There were windows lining the front wall that overlooked the gutted factory, large round table in the middle, a desk with a complex computer set up against the opposite wall of the windows, and a small makeshift bed pushed in the far left corner of the room. James was seated in front of the computer terminal, figure hunched over and face illuminated a soft blue light from the screen. He was a human, a very trustworthy one at that.

     Everyone here had their fair shares of a dark and gloomy past and just like James, they weren’t all willing to share it. What you knew about him was that his name was James Porter and he was astonishingly good with computers and technology in general. He was a definite computer whiz and even set up his own algorithm to source out any material in the media about androids and the revolution. It was smart and he kept you updated on an hourly basis on the public’s opinion and law enforcement activities. “Do all you humans sit on your computer terminals all day?” Sara mused poking the young man in the back of the head.

“Nope,” he leaned back in his chair, “just me because I’m smart.” He grinned.

“Logically what you just said is flawed.” Sara said taking a seat on the edge of his desk with her arms folded over her chest.

“Isn’t everything what I say flawed?” he winked.

    These two fancied each other and it was so blatantly obvious to everyone else around them. Sara and James, however, even with their brilliant minds were still so oblivious to the fact. “Have you found any information on Markus? Sara says she can’t access encrypted Cyberlife servers and I want to know –” James glided over in his chair and pressed his finger against your lips promptly shushing you.

“It’s actually funny that you mention that because the restricted Cyberlife servers are going crazy. They don’t know what Markus is and that makes Cyberlife just as nervous as Law Enforcement which can be interpreted as a good or bad thing, your choice.” He answered with his hands now behind his head.

    So Cyberlife doesn’t know what model Markus is or where he came from? You couldn’t decide whether you wanted to feel happy or worried about that. The one thing you and your group used to your advantage was information. It was easy to do anything as long as you had the right information regarding said thing. Your face suddenly flushed red, I mean you weren’t going to do anything with Markus but you needed information to determine what to do if he does something terrible and – goodness gracious you needed to get your mind out of the gutter. Jericho started this revolution with Markus at the forefront and all you wanted was for it to go peacefully.

    As soon as he threatened to use violence you’d have to take him down. You were fighting for the freedom of androids but if he had violent tendencies then you and your group would have to do something about that. Bloodshed was not the answer, it never was. Of course, you knew where Jericho was. A few of your birds have received the key from other androids to get there. Jericho was the name of a rusty old boat docked at one of Detroit’s abandoned shipping docks. It was smart but if they were to get raided they were ultimately painting themselves into a corner. The only way out would be through the main entrance to the docks but those would be blocked if Law Enforcement were there.

    You knew for a fact that Jericho was very wary of humans whereas your group showed androids that there were humans that wanted to help and that not every human was terrible. Of course, you weren’t an android and you wouldn’t know what the people of Jericho would do to you if you just waltzed inside of their hideout. “Do we know where they’ll head next? They’ve already hit Stratford Tower so they would want to do something bigger for the next statement they make.” You said pacing back and forth. Being the leader of a rebellion was stressful.

“Yeah actually.” James said as he glided in his chair back to his computer.

    His fingers glided across the glowing board that was projected out in front of him by the main monitor. In under a minute he had pulled up several different files, audio clips, and images. “I hope you don’t mind but I sent a bird into Jericho to see if we could gain more intel.” He said with a sheepish smile. Usually you would have swiped him in the back of his head for being so careless until you heard the audio clip. It was Markus’s voice and he and a few others were murmuring about a planned attack on several Cyberlife stores in the city. “James, do you know where Markus is going? Do you know which store he’ll hit?” you asked.

    This was an urgent matter now. The last thing you wanted was for Jericho’s raid on the stores to turn violent. “Um...Capitol Park.” He answered, as soon as he did you left the room. Sara lingered for a moment longer giving the human a thankful smile before following you out. So Markus was going to the Cyberlife store located in Capitol Park? People gave you a nod or a smile as you walked past them and you tried your best to give one back as you hurried to your closet of a bedroom. “Hey slow down!” Sara yelled running up to you as she matched your quick pace.

“Sorry, I just need to get some air.” You muttered exiting the building.

    Sara took the hint to leave you alone and watched as you pulled the tarp off of one of the old school motorbikes and climbed on. The engine revved and that familiar smell of gasoline invaded your nostrils as you sped off down the empty road. You needed some time to yourself to think. The air was frosty as it whipped against your face as you navigated the streets of Detroit. A few heads turned when the nostalgic sound of a rumbling engine of a motorbike as you weaved through the self-driving vehicles of the street. Gas fueled vehicles were discontinued less than a decade ago and instead replaced by electric self-driving cars and trucks.

    You had a few hours to kill before they would need you back at the factory and if anything you had an earpiece in which was a direct line to either James or Sara. You shook your head at the thought of your friends and laughed. If anything were to happen while you were gone your friends could get a hold of you in an instant. The hours past as you raced up and down the streets of Detroit on your bike. When you arrived back to the old factory you were bombarded by several people both human and android. They were all talking over each other and you couldn’t make out a word they were saying.

    Finally, Sara pushed through the small crowd and grabbed your hand. Her hazel eyes were glossed over by worrisome tears as she led you away from the crowd. “Sara, what happened?” You asked slowly as she pulled you to the side. People around you were murmuring and sticking close to one another. “Some android came in with two kids, brought their friend with them, a YK500 model. They, they aren’t going to make it.” She whispered letting her eyes close to try and keep her tears at bay. Screw everyone who thought androids weren’t alive. Without another thought you ran towards the makeshift medical bay to where you presumed the YK500 android was.

    As you pushed past the white sheets hanging from the ceiling which corned off the area you realized how quiet it was. No one uttered a word as you walked towards the children in the corner of the room. One was human and the other one, the girl covered in blue blood with her stomach ripped open, they were sitting on a bundle of blankets and old clothes. You approached slowly with your hand out and kneeled in front of them. A hand squeezed your shoulder and you looked up at the man standing above you, he frowned. “Shut down is imminent.” He whispered. You drew in a breath and looked back at the kids.

    These were children. The colour of their blood and the difference between their creation didn’t mean anything, they were kids all the same. “Please help my friend.” The little boy pleaded with tears running down his cheeks. How could something like this happen? “What’s her name?” you asked quietly.

“Harriet.” He sniffled.

“What happened to Harriet?” you asked.

“We were at the park playing and these big scary kids came up to us and started pushing her around. I tried to stop them but one of the boys pushed me on the ground and then they started hurting her!” he cried out.

    You felt an invisible hand tighten around your heart. Your gaze moved down to the little girl he was cradling in his lap. The kids were about the same height but he was doing his best to keep her close. You could see just by the way he held her how much his android friend meant. Adults didn’t realize that to children it didn’t matter if you were human or android. The girl, Harriet, began to cry loudly. She became absolutely hysterical. The YK500’s were designed to act as if they were an actual human child. There was no difference between the boy and her besides her different body and lack of need to eat, sleep, etc.

    In the end she was the same as any child. She was a kid unsure of what was happening and fearing what she doesn’t know. Her friend began to wail louder as well. They were scared out of their minds and you had no doubt that the boy would be scarred for life. He only looked to be about nine or ten, he wasn’t very old. You reached out and rested the palm of your hand against the androids forehead. For a split second her eyes flickered over to meet your gaze and then she went still. The boy wasn’t stupid and he knew what had just happened to his friend.

    You cursed internally and stood up leaving the room. This gave you all the more reason to want to meet Markus. You had to make sure that you two were on the same page. Planning started immediately. If he was going out tonight then you were going to meet him and speak your mind. This madness, brutality, it needed to stop.

Hours went by.

    James encouraged that you bring some people with you as backup in case things went awry. The only backup you needed was Sara. There were several small groups from Jericho littered around Detroit raiding Cyberlife stores. James made sure to get you the information you needed and Sara was making sure you would both get out alive. The two of you arrived upon Capitol Park five past two in the morning. Your long black coat was billowing in the wind as you crouched on the edge of the building and looked down at the park. There were dozens of androids running around the park.

    The front of the Cyberlife store was destroyed with a construction truck idle inside of it. “If you are in fact wondering, security alarms to the store were cut, DPD drone destroyed, and road blocked making all autonomous vehicles reroute to go around the park.” James said in your ear. You stayed quiet, feeling the buzz of the small electronic piece in your ear as he spoke. Markus was smart you’d give him that. “He’s smart, made sure no one would see what they’re doing.” You said aloud. Sara nodded and narrowed her hazel eyes as she scanned each and every android scurrying about below. There was suddenly a burst of red smoke from below that caught your eye.

    Snow was falling from the heavy grey clouds above as you and Sara climbed down to ground level. Your friend immediately drew her gun keeping it steady as the two of you moved past the busy androids. Some of them stopped what they were doing; LED’s turning red in alarm. Then you saw him. The famed deviant leader himself was standing in the middle of the blocked road with red smoke from the smoke bomb flooding the area behind him. “Markus!” Your eyes darted to the female a little ways away. Her voice was loud and her eyes were on the two of you. It seemed to catch his attention as he slowly turned to face you.

    It was strange seeing him face to face. Until now you’ve only seen images of his face when it was broadcasted all over Stratford Tower the other day. Now here he stood heterochromatic eyes and all. “Who are you and what do you want?” he asked, his voice carrying over the organized chaos around you. There was no doubt in your mind that the police would be here soon. You straightened your posture and took a step towards him, hands clasped behind your back. That woman who called out his name ran over and halted when she was next to him. “I’m just a person who is fighting the same cause.” You answered after a moment of utter silence.

“I’m also the leader of a group that is quite similar to yours. We’ve been watching and now I’m here to see what your intentions are.”

“My intentions, my intentions for what?”

    Sara scoffed; you could hear her from behind you. It was bitter cold outside and this icy conversation wasn’t helping the chills currently wracking your body. “Your intentions for this revolution that you’ve started. I had my own plans on how to go about this all but you screwed it to pieces when you pulled that stupid stunt at the tower.” You growled. This was it. This was all your pent up rage from today’s events beginning to spew out. “Markus she’s a human we can’t trust her.” The woman next to him said. She was speaking as if you weren’t standing in front of her.

    Nonetheless, you continued and took another step towards the famed deviant leader until you were chest to chest. “Like hell you can’t trust her, she’s done more than you probably ever have.” Sara retorted to the redheaded woman. The deadly look the redhead gave both you and Sara was all she was willing to do. Then again, Sara did have a gun drawn and ready to fire if necessary at any moment. Before any other word could be spoken a drone suddenly flew overhead causing a number of androids to begin to run.

    The cops were coming they all needed to leave if they wanted to stay alive. You knew what the cops would do if they found one deviant let alone more than a dozen or so. Your brain suddenly flipped and changed to worried-leader. “You all need to leave now or you’ll be killed.” You said gripping Markus’s forearm to gain his attention. He looked back to you and gave a curt nod before sending out a message. Everyone then started to run leaving just you, Sara, and Markus in the middle of Capitol Park. “Look, I just came here to hopefully start an alliance.” You said sincerely.

    Markus went to speak when a number of loud ‘pops’ echoed in the park. Your head turned and you looked down the road behind you. The deviant leader brushed past you and ran you and Sara quickly following behind. The gun fire ceased after the first few shots leaving the park in an eerie silence. You halted and slightly skidded along the snow covered road and looked ahead. “This is bad.” You heard Sara say from behind you. Slowly the three of you turned the corner at the end of the street. You gasped and brought your hand to cover your mouth as you looked at the trail of bodies lying on the road.

    There were at least six dead androids, electricity sparking from the exposed circuitry and Thirium gushing from the holes covering their bodies. You looked to Sara whose lips were slightly parted and hazel eyes wide as her gaze darted quickly back and forth between the bodies. Up a head you saw the redhead from earlier on her knees crouched in front of an android that looked identical to her. You could see the artificial tears running down her pale cheeks as she stared down at what could have been her twin. You’ve seen androids like her before, WR400 model that were typically found in the Eden Club.

    You watched Markus approach her sliding up to her on his knees and grabbing her by the shoulder; you were too distracted by the number of dead bodies to listen to what they were saying. Once again it felt like an invisible hand was tightening its grip around your heart. You physically hurt for these poor androids that were shot down, slaughtered like animals. When you looked back ahead Markus and that woman were gone and actually by the crowd of androids up ahead. You reached them just in time to see Markus be handed a hand gun.

    Two police officers were on their knees with their hands behind their heads whimpering. They were pleading for their lives, sniffling and crying. The red and blue lights of the police cruiser were blinding as you raised your arm to cover your eyes as you pushed through the crowd of androids. They were all demanding justice, calling out for murder. You pulled the hood up on your cloak-like jacket; the officers would surely recognize you otherwise. Markus looked troubled as he pointed the hand gun between the two quivering police officers. Before he decided on the more violent choice you put your hand over the gun. His eyes darted to the side as soon as he felt your fingers brushed against his hand.

    You were a peculiar individual to him. He had only met you mere minutes ago yet the sight of you physically calmed his flare of emotions. It was like you doused the wild fire of crazy emotions inside of him. “Don’t do this Markus. I know you don’t know me and I barely know you but please – don’t do this. It will only make things worse.” You whispered, the hot air leaving your mouth in puffs of hot steam. Your eyes quickly darted to Sara who stood behind him with her gun poised at his legs. “Markus please.��� You pleaded quietly. It wasn’t like you to usually plead but you thought you needed to take a different approach.

    You were a strong leader that no one wanted to get on the bad side of. Right now you were maybe showing too much of your soft side. “You’re right. An eye for an eye and the world goes blind.” He whispers, mostly to himself. You released your hand from the hold on the gun and let him hand the gun off to a nearby android. You motioned with your free hand for Sara to stand down which she did immediately. “We won’t punish a crime with another crime.” He said, this time louder. You nodded to your friend and as the deviant leader turned around to walk away she grabbed his wrist. Sara’s dark skin peeled away revealing the plastic white underneath as she forced an interface with him giving him the location to your groups’ hideout.

    Sara pulled her hand away letting the dark synthetic skin slide back into place over her exposed plastic shell of her hand. While Markus stood there processing the new information that was just forced into his mind the two of you disappeared. He would meet up with you when he was ready, hopefully he wouldn’t do anything stupid until then. A secret part of you was hoping that he would contact you soon.

A/N: Should I make a part 2? I know the reader didn’t interact with Markus a lot in this but surely they would interact WAY more if I did another part. 

[isleofandroids]

Partners: Part Three (RK900 x Reader)

Fandom Detroit: Become Human

Word Count 1,714

Summary After being paired with the new addition to the DPD, you have to learn how to deal with the post-android events

PART ONE TWO

Tags [if your name is crossed out, that means I wasn’t able to actually tag you] @x6-15 @sherlockspie @yallgotkik @avereality @riridmanngrl @jamiethenerdymonster @not-a-kat

—

Nothing but darkness was what greeted you after finding a way inside. You didn't think you'd ever have to be in such a run down place, even with this job. The only source of light came from small openings through the wooden planks against the two entrances, and cracks in the edges of the ceiling. Glass, rocks and debris littered the entire floor and made no spot safe to step on without caution. There were sounds of fluttering wings and screeches that echoed through the abandoned building, moving from one area to the next with fading volume. The shadows from both you and Conner became giants on the chipped walls, creating more of an eerie feel to the whole situation.

“Your heart rate has increased by five beats a minute.”

“Really? I didn't notice.” You uttered, trying to calm your rapid heart by taking deep, quiet breaths. Anything was better than hearing Conner's statistics about health echo in a deteriorating warehouse.

“If this atmosphere carries an affect on your health, it would be wise to leave the rest of the search for the deviant to me. This will only slow us down.”

“Gee, thanks for the pep talk.” You replied sarcastically, continuing deeper into the abandoned space with cautious steps. The rhythm of your walking was soon the only thing heard from either of you as he kept the identical pace.

The android was already watching you carefully from the moment you entered the building. The subtle babysitting procedure was quite intensified once the sudden change in your chest was discovered. He took note of the incident and the assumption that the environment was the cause, and made another mental note not to allow you to join in on such excavations. As not only did it seem like it would always have a breach in your cardiac state, but it would stall any progress from the missions being completed. And there was not going to be room for error on his watch.

“I am curious as to why you took such a position in law enforcement when the mere appearance of this establishment has your heart beating in a slightly erratic state. Surely any cardiatric issues would deem you unfit for duties out in the field.” You groaned quietly, not bothering to reply so he would get the hint that you wanted and needed the quiet. If he was going to continue on speaking just to criticize your choice of career, you would at least have him do it when you weren't in a situation that could hold any level of danger.

As you ventured deeper into the nearly vacant, concrete room, you came upon a set of ancient looking stairs. The metal of the railing was cold, but the amount of time gone by without proper maintenance built a layer of dark copper rust that left bare scratches against the surface of your palms each time you used it to steady yourself on a weak step. The sound of creaks and decent dents in the material didn’t help settle any doubts on the stability of the staircase. Regardless, however, you continued upward. The surroundings were nothing void of an ominous and dangerous feel, as old machines and broken pieces of large metal or steel objects were scattered across the second level of the building. Tattered work uniforms were bundled into a corner - you lifted one up and observed its appearance. You tossed it back down and lightly kicked the almost oddly shaped pile of worn out clothing, nearly flinching when a rat appeared from under some of the shirts and ran across the dusty ground to a new hiding place. You let out a small breath and shook your head, I shouldn’t let small stuff get to me. That plastic babysitter of mine might force me out of the search.

Conner’s voice was heard from behind after the incident, though with the back and forth way he’d been acting lately a form of communication wasn’t something you wanted to reignite unless necessary. It became a muffled sound once you blocked it from your mind, needing to make yourself focus on the possible rogue android. The only thing you allowed to enter your system about the man beside you was whether he would actually allow an open chance to bring in the deviant without threats or shoot outs being made. The offer itself - no matter how tempting it seemed - wasn’t convincing enough for you to drop everything you thought about. Conner was a force to be reckoned with and an impossible person to reason with, the complete opposite of his counterpart. You only agreed to do take on this case because staying ahead of the newer model by even a few steps would give you a quicker advantage in case he falls back on his word.

The movement of your nose wrinkling wasn’t missed while you slowly paraded around the cement flooring, unusual odors filling your nostrils and causing a displeasing scent to invade one of your five senses. Despite the almost repulse you felt, it carried a scent that stood out above the rest. One that you knew all too well from months of deviant cases and working with the hotheaded machine. While the smell of thirium resembled an echo inside of system of senses, it was impossible for you to follow the exact trail that would eventually lead to the supposed fugitive. With a quiet huff, you glanced back at your partner. “Conner.” He looked away from the old equipment. “I need you to look for any blue blood up that leads further in.”

“Yes, Y/N.” The RK900 gave a subtle nod before walking ahead of you, his inaudible steps still echoing a form of sound that bounced off the walls. You stayed put, waiting for the man to announce any findings the more he surveyed the area. The opportunity was used in observing the rest of the room, trying to catch anything that could have given away the exact location. The situation itself was weird - there weren't any tracks outside, no handprints on the walls or floor inside. There was a significant lack of parts that could've been lost and damaged that would've ended up abandoned somewhere. As well as the well hidden streaks of thirium that was likely to lost during the deviant's escape. The visit to the house before being led to the warehouse wasn't much help; the woman there was very vague and only gave real attention to the price of a replacement android rather than finding the current one. The absence of evidence and trails was beginning to get frustrating. You were so into the extra effort of detective work that you didn't hear your partner calling you. You looked over to see Conner waving his hand in his direction, motioning for you to go over.

You followed the man through a hall off to the side with only one window at the end. The cement ground was especially dirty with excessively accumulated dust and small bugs crawling about the nooks and crannies. Your face scrunched up each time you needed to flick one off of your jacket, so much so that an amused expression flashed across the CyberLife creation's face before disappearing just as quickly. He kept a fraction of a distance ahead as he led you to a large, separate room. It was the emptiest spot in the whole building save for a rusted old elevator built in the center of the back wall. As the two of you approached the contraption, you saw that the shaft itself was gone. You stepped toward the edge of the space and looked down, seeing nothing but darkness below. “Any blue blood?”

Conner stepped up beside you and lifted his chin as he looked up. “There are spots and fingerprints along the cables that lead to an opening for the roof - right where that thin streak of light is coming from.” He tilted his head sightly, “The trail ends there. If we can get to the top and open the door, I will be able to pinpoint the exact location of the deviant.”

You nodded along, humming at the end while you thought about the predicament. Surely there was another entrance that would take you both to the rooftop without any extra force being needed. Nothing in the room gave way to an alternative, nor did the building itself really have anything but old, broken products and equipment. However, you did recall seeing a window beside the doorway that brought you to this room. So with only a simple nod in the other direction, you led the animated detective back the way you came. The bottom panel of the window was cracked, almost as if someone had tried to break it open with a rock or other hard object, but other than that it was still closed and locked. You pulled down one of the sleeves of your jacket so it covered your dominant arm completely, and used your elbow to break through the weakened glass. Clear shards fell far into the grass down below, and you cleared away any loose pieces before turning the outdoor latch. You lifted up the window and swung a leg over to sit at the ledge, using a nearby tree branch to lift yourself up. You turned your head to look after the frozen animatronic. “Come on, Conner.”

“There is a twenty-six percent chance that you will fail, Detective.”

“Which means there's a seventy-four percent chance I won't. So hurry up.”

Conner blinked, the LED on the side of his temple switching into a glowing yellow while he contemplated the success rate of this stunt. The odds calculated to ending in your favor if done right, yet the level of stupidity you carried in that moment was something that irked the robot. Not only were you putting yourself in harms way, but you were doing something with no guarantee that it would provide the wanted deviant in the end. If it heard you, it could run again. And that would've been a huge step back from the present case at hand.

With his normal frown etched onto his human features, he begrudgingly climbed out of the window to join you.

Software Instability ↑↑

[glopratchet]

Little Sin

In the world to come there is little sin. You have a new life, a new family and you are free. There are just lots of american alligators. After the election of the first ungendered president, the prediatrain movement caught fire in america. Since then most of the metaworkers involved in the project went private and made their fortunes selling to companies who were more intersted in financial gains than induction. Of coarse the metaworkers had been doing it for so long most just didn't need the money and had continued striving to make humans as perfect as possible themselves. Now only the poor have babies the traditional way and they are rarely more than 20% of any given populations usable babies. The demand for american alligator meat skyrocketed after a plague years ago and it became economic sense to breed them in captivity, who knew they stacked so well? Vats after vats of gator esscence sloshing about growing legs and then bodies then slaughtered and processed. Mostly it is a paradise, efficient, structured, specialized. Sadly your specialization did not prove to be highly valued. Who need classics when the old world is gone? Whorals where burned to ash while polled hereford heifors fetched over a billion dollars a head in auction. Your old farmhouse now an airport, your father would have been horrified, of course he was blown to ash scattering over a freeway while you mother's skeleton was proudly put on display in a metaworks museum. The old world REALLY is gone. You worked hard and got your primary education certificate then just as hard to get your secondary equivalent. You spent eight years studying in the library for your humanities and Social Science papers and got a two 2.1s and a 3. Googizon won the bid to construct for the military the most forward thinking alligator farm in existance so far and with your resumé you were head hunted to run it. You work in a half submerged glass an metal building sitting atop 523 alligators who are kept just wake enough through biog gas injection to allow them to shut their eyes without spilling out the layer of meat skewered on huge needles that run from their spinal cords into the machinery. It currently floats near the okeenokee snow swamp. You are so far from the old world it's not even funny. Sure on the T.V. they still talk about sports and throw around polotics but outside the farm all you can see for miles are trees, birds and insects and the odd alligator basking on a sunny 'beach'. Of course the building is still less then half a mile from a military base on an army enforced conservation area so humans can't wander and wipe out all the game for miles.... This is not that story. You have work to do We are primal ponds inc. we specialise in ultra farm husbandry. At the push of a button our gators from young to full grown can instantly become fashion jackets, leather coats, belts...even shoes and bags. We are pushing so many units every day we have sent reps to try and break into the japanese market, so far they haven't called back. A small mom and pop alligator farm attemping to make it. Last week our oldest gator surpass Cochon gate's world record of 880 years. The sun beats down on your farms back glass panels as you watch the thousands of beasts basking sleepily below. You snap a couple of photos with your phone and beam them over to your reps hoping they call you back soon. We need you to make deliveries for us. We have bought, rigged and updated an old freight submarine for you and set you up with a small crew, you just need to tell us where to drop off the goods. Please...we're dying here... On the rhelm of your glass office a pen floats near you. Point of view of the player: Hey, take a minute and think about where you want to go. I'm letting you choose the next sector of this adventure, with four options: theMilitary Side, Economics Side, Terrorism Side or Criminal Side... A delivery champion here is like no other: we have control over the world's only sentient beasts of burden (gators) incentive based economics that allouw us to sell our leather above price-cost, kick-back free operating licenses and few enough regulations that you can get amazing stuff done for you with a couple of well-placed bribes. Pick up the pen and choose your destiny The criminal side sounds fun: trillions of people live outside and inside the law why shouldn't we? He had a secert life as billy fea fbots biggest drug lord all along! And one more thing... It turns out no one has made a crappy real time virtual reality game based on your life and experiences yet and against all attact you have decided to give it a go.... Dedicated to delivering dragon tail in the far, far, future. Maybe that needs to change... Made by two guys on a coffee machine some sleepy afternoons...mayhaps...it's rubbish... We proudly introduce today the glamorous fallout: an adventure in the post-apocalypse and the two men who made it: bruce and ed. Glug, glug...any questions? Alligator delivery service. The story of a normal life in the post-apazaki...noh... The alligator farm where the gator are delivered is currently under a series of construction tasks. Temporary staff will used while these works last. Already we own over four over ten foot alligators including rex lex, the old female godzilla and lesi mellnick, the huge male dominant of our breeding group. We place breed these four as soon and they reach sexual maturity. We also own thirty-six smaller animals, mostly six to seven foot males and females. A massive 14 foot beast. Not nice. Bred for fights but joined our force with strange reluctance when he could do nothing against our huge alpha male. He's actually a right little so and so, never helps the keepers move any of the large trees in our scrapes.... So, we have delivered one alligator from the breeding farm to an area in florida where our electronics arm opened a new factory recently. This factory is currently attempting to recuperate from a bombing and so insurance fraud seems the most reasonable option. The factory is seeded with several obviously fake bomb scares. While this sucks for the factory work as they all have to stop working, many refuse to even enter thir building, others leave by afternoon. We plan to target the wood workers. (alves and winklehaus.....and thunder? A small safe has gone missing and we believe our bomber has probably taken it. he has clearly stolen large sums of money in the past as a means of terrorise his local communities as whenever something is stolen a new threat will appear the next day from ed or one of his fellow crack extortionists so we don't expect public interest into this theft for at least a couple weeks. At two pm on the dot bruce and ed! will enter the building wearing all black. This is when they plant the bomb that they have created in our secret base under a community centre... my brother and me got our name because ed regarded us as two like his brothers. I'm the quiet one and the brother who just does what I'm told. bruce has called ed a right character and I can't altogether dispute it. With me is greg, a new member of our team and an aspiring stand up comedian! Said he killed someone once but I'm not sure I believe that.... I finallly arrive at the building site where our two crack undercover agents are waiting. There were no actual bomb threats but daft people are still refusing to work. Ed hasn't responded to my last message so I assume that the pair of them are happily seeding the factory. We snuck in earlier, hammering boards over the glass walls to the offices at the top of the factory to avoid breaking in after hours. While at the front we pretend to be a work crew extending a main road so no one will questions us creeping about the 'closed' factory.We wander around the dark building looking for the seemingly empty offices on the top floor and come across a man trying to stuff armfuls of fabric printer paper in his sports bag. He is shocked to see us as much as we are him. The gulity man whirls around as we enter , dropping his bag in the doorway. "Hey we can help you there," I say , not knowing what else to say. 'I...um...thanks... ' he answers, patting down his pockets looking for his keys. I pick up the bag and find the keys in the first pocket I try. How about that? I hand them over and he looks at me with clear recognition in his eyes. He had obviously seen my photo in Newsweek. He must have though this was some kind of trap. So, he didn't come here to steal but to destroy the documents? Well these papers seemed pretty regular, all printer paper and cheap fabric....but then they don't exactly make a good quality paper especially not out here for convenience. Why would the guy go to the trouble of destroying these anyway? "Thank you...are you sure you can handle that?" He asks, nervously smiling at me. I'm quite big remember to add. There are two respectable fathers with me afterall. "Yeah why wouldn't we be?" I respond with a faint smile, but my smile is weak and unrealistic so as not to scare the man. I look at my brother who clearly doesn't react much to these kind of situations....or any situations really. "Right...well, you can just toss it over there." He points to a bare corner of a room behind us with his keys still in hand. 'Then um...thanks a lot....goodbye....' We shuffle towards the corner at first then I get the sense that something is not right with this guy. it may be the fact that he still isn't leaving or the nervous sweat pertruding from his forehead. We play air hockey for a second, me shuffling my feet to face him then him shuffling his feet to face me. He keeps his keys held tightly in his hands like some kind of knife. It dawns on me later that I should have grabbed them anyway. What happened after this I still cannot quite recall in exact detail... "Come on guys,.... can you let me go now? Please?", he says heading to the exit, greg mutters to him to just leave but I find myself obnixious and unpredictable as ever. Maybe he could shed some light on this situation? What was he doing with all these non work related papers anyway? Why destroy them in a hurry? It seemed pretty odd to me. I wait for him to take a few steps forward before I speak up from behind. "At least tell us how you make your paper seem so authentic." I like to lob questions like this at recent university grads whenever I can. It's part of human nature to talk about yourself and it also gives us insight into the security of new moneymakers. I had completely forgotten that some of men out there were not security at all but common criminals looking to rip off new businesses like ours so that they wont be such easy pickins later. I wasn't prepared for the booster to pull a 2x4 with screws sticking out of it out of his bag as he whirls on me with unnatural speed. If I had to fight him eye to eye my life would have been quickly terminated. Since I didn't expect the hostile response however, I had enough time to duck and cover inside the cramped bathroom . With it's cheap lock, I was ensured my safety.....or so I thought.Tip: If you're logged in, your games are auto saved for you. You can find them by clicking "My Stuff" on the sidebar menu.Story

[ecotone99]

Traitors in the town [RF]

“Ok, we have two possible traitors to this town.” The detective announced, his name was Dawson Cain. “Well, what are we doing here? Let’s kill these bastards.” Maxwell said, he was our town guard, our town was guarded by a big gate and was surrounded by a concrete wall stretching around the entire town; Justin nodded in agreement, he was the town mechanic. “I will be in my office.” Heartwell said, he was the town doctor, no one knew his first name, “Um, hey doc, I have something on my arm that needs to be checked.” Carter said, the towns salesman, he sells stuff to other people from different towns to make money. I looked at Alex, the town helper, if you need help, young Alex is your guy.

Then there's me, my name is Mark, my partner is Mason, we are cops. “Wait, before you leave, everyone keep weapons on you.” Dawson says. “Way ahead of you.” I say. Maxwell for a mobile gun has a glock 24, Justin has a glock 22, Heartwell carries around a colt python, Carter carries a 44. Magnum, Alex carries a SIG sauer p226, I carry a trusty M9 beretta, and Mason carries a colt m1911, as for Dawson, he carries a ruger Bearcat.

For the big stuff Maxwell has a UMP with a laser sight, Justin has a sawn off pump shotgun, Heartwell has a m4A1 with a red dot sight and a laser sight, Carter has a pump shotgun, Alex has a MP5, I use an EVO 3 A1 without a stock and a red dot scope, Mason has a Scorpion with an extended mag, Dawson uses a Tech 9 with an extended mag. Everyone either walked away or nodded and walked away, “Mark, Mason, keep an eye on Tray he didn’t attend the meeting” Tray Imerson, he was a shady guy but he was a town member so, he didn’t really do anything he just checked storms or alerts, he carried a glock 17 and a AK-47. He usually wore a hoodie; a strand of his medium long dirty blonde hair poking through. We went over to his house, I knocked on his door and he opened, “Yes can I help?” He asked, “Um, you doing ok?” I asked, “Yeah, I was sleeping.” Tray said, I nodded and walked off.

About an hour later, Heartwell came in with a stranger at his side, I stood up. “Easy Mark, this is Jack, he is looking for a place to stay for the week.” I sat down, “Ok, Jack I’ll take you to Tray he has a place for you to stay.” He nodded And I lead him to the house. I knock again. “Yes?” “Hey, can Jack use the guest room?’ “Yeah.” I nod, “Jack, come to the meeting place tomorrow we will introduce you to everyone.” Jack nodded and walked in.

“Where is Jack?” Dawson asked, “I don’t know I told him to be here” “Go check on him.” I nodded and me and Mason jogged off. We reached the house and I drew my pistol and opened the door. Tray was there, his AK raised. Jack was dead on the floor, holes up and down his body. “Dirty traitor bast-” He couldn’t finish, me and Mason fired five times each, the blood shot out and bloodstains grew ever so slowly, red on blue, he fell.

“Dawson, he killed Jack.” Dawson nodded, everyone here had some enforcer background, Maxwell and Justin were cops, Alex was SWAT, Carter was a sniper, Heartwell was a combat medic, me and Mason were in the Army and Dawson was well… a detective. Tray used to be a bomb diffuser before he murdered Jack. “Sir with all do respect, I did what I needed to do Dawson.” “Ok, but Tray was in this with us.” “He murdered Jack, and almost aimed at us, he went insane!” “I SAID CHECK ON JACK, NOT KILL TRAY, HE WAS OUR FRIEND!” “HE COULD HAVE BEEN THE FUCKING TRAITOR!” I looked at Dawson, he looked back at me. “Go to your house, don’t come out for three days.” I walked off.

I awoke in the night to three masked men in my room. I pretended to sleep while keeping a close eye on them; one got close to my bed and pulled out a knife. I hit him in the stomach and pushed him back, he slid down the wall by my bed, I then jumped out of bed throwing the blankets over the first guy and I grabbed the lamp on my nightstand; I threw it at the second guy in front of my bed, it shattered against his head, crushing his skull and impaling him with glass. The first guy moved and I kicked him in the face, his head smashed into the wall behind him, I grabbed his knife and stabbed through the sheet; blood spilled through. I pulled it out and threw it at the third and farthest guy from me, it hit and he slid down the wall to a sitting position. Another guy came from the hall connecting me and Mason, he drew his pistol and fired. Blood splattered against the white door and he fell; Mason came rushing in and his guns barrel was smoking.

“Jesus Mark, who the hell are they.” “I don’t know, I woke up and they were here.” Mason nodded and gestured for me to follow him. After the attack, Dawson changed, he had a look of worry… and something else, I couldn’t place it. “Jesus, Mark, Mason are you two ok?” Dawson asked, “I’m fine, I don’t think I got hit.” I said, “Do you want Heartwell to check you?” Dawson asked, “Yeah, that’s probably best.” I responded. Heartwell looked me over up and down three times. “You’re good.” He said, I nodded.

“Good, go get some rest.” Dawson said, I nodded and ran off. I woke up to Alex saying my name, “Hey Mark, Dawson wants you, Mason is already there.” I nodded and ran back to the meeting room. Dawson and Mason looked at me as I ran in, “Ah, Mark I need you to check on Carter at these coordinates, bring him back home. Ok?” “Ok, we will be back shortly.” Me and Mason get in a car and pull up to the gate, “Mason, Mark, where are you headed?” Maxwell asked, “Oh, we are headed to pick Carter up from a deal.” I responded, Maxwell looked like he was about to say something, he shook his head and said, “Ok well, be safe.” Maxwell said, I nodded and drove off.

“I thi-” Mason started and I looked at him and swatted the air, he nodded. About 20 minutes later we rolled up to some military camp, it had bunkers lining either side creating a grass walkway, a big building was in the center a little down the way, a watch tower was to the right. We walked to the door at the center of the building, I jiggled the door handle. “shit, locked.” I said, we moved toward the right.

A loud bang echoed from somewhere, it took awhile to notice Mason who shot against the wall blood spattered against the concrete wall as he did. “SHIT, MASON!” “IT’S MY LEG I’M FINE, WATCH TOW-” He got cut off by another shot, it hit the wall beside Mason’s head, I fired upward, another shot. I saw a spurt of red, I sprinted toward the watch tower and climbed up, inside lay another masked man, his black ski mask was decorated with a growing bloodstain, a CheyTac Intervention in the corner of the tower, I grabbed some cloth from his shirt and went back down. I wrapped Mason's wound and moved into the building.

I clear the bottom floor and move upward. I cleared four rooms and moved to the fifth, I heard talking and got against the wall when another masked man ran from the room in front of the one I was by, he tackled my EVO 3 out of my hand and grabbed me, I punched him, I felt his nose crack against my fist, he slammed me against the wall as two other masked guys came out both holding pistols. One had a glock 13, the other had a desert eagle, the guy holding me slammed me into the wall as one of the masked guys raised his desert eagle, I punched the guy holding me again and I threw him in the path of the bullet as the guy fired. It hit him, blood flew out staining the wall and floor, I hid behind a wall, the glock guy moved forward, his gun aimed. I grabbed his arm and threw his gun down, I punched him twisted his arm and kicked his leg out and grabbed his gun, I threw him down the stairs. He broke his neck on the way down, the wall beside my head exploded and I jumped out and fired at the last guy, I shot him six times in the chest moving up each time I fired, then shot him once in the neck, then fired the last three rounds in the head. The slide shot back signifying the empty mag, I threw the gun down the stairs drawing my m9 in the process. I moved to the door and a shotgun blast hit the room behind me as I threw myself against the wall. I hear the sound of a pump and a shell hit the floor.

“Ok ok, I surrender.” I say holstering my gun and putting my hands in the air. “Come into the room.” One of them commanded, I do so. “Cuff em’” The shotgun guy tells the two others. “Ohh, boss is gonna have fun with you.” One of them said, I pushed the one to my right into the guy with a shotgun, they both fell, I then slammed the left guy’s head into the doorway, blood spurted from his mouth. He recoiled in pain and I punched him, he hit the edge again, he fell to his knees and I slammed his head on the floor with my foot. I drew my m9 again and fire at the now getting up shotgun guy hitting him twice in the head, I then shot the last guy that I pushed hitting him twice in the heart. I shoot the guy on the floor closest to me in the head.

I make my way outside. Mason lay against the wall I pick him up, my EVO 3 in my other hand, I set him in the car and start speeding off. I pull up at the gate and Maxwell looks at me, “HE’S BLEEDING LET US IN QUICK!” I yell, he looks surprised then runs to the door pushing a button, the gate parted and I speed to Heartwell. “HEARTWELL, MASONS SHOT!” I yelled again, as Heartwell opened the door, he rushed inside and set Mason on a table.

Mason nodded and I went off. I knock on Carters door, no response. I kick it open, Carter sat at a table his 44. Magnum infront of him. He looks up at me, a look like a child being caught in a bad act coming to his face. he grabbed his revolver and aimed at me, I shot him in the chest, his look turning to sheer horror. He stumbles back and hits his counter, falling to the floor. I walked away.

About a week after me and Mason were on the way to Alex’s house. “Mason, you alright?” I asked, he nodded. Out of nowhere gunshots went off, I dove down and looked over to see Justin with his shotgun and two other masked guys firing at us, we ran and hid behind a building. “Come out, Mark, just get it over with.” Justin said, “damnit Justin, put the gun down, tell your friends to do the same.” I responded. “Mark you know I can’t do that.” Justin said back. “Besides we both know t-” He couldn’t finish before Mason shot him, I peeked around the corner and shot the two men.

I walked to Justin, who now was clutching a wound in his stomach. “You are the real traitor here. How could you?” I asked, “Same question, guess you won’t know.” He responded with a maniacal laugh, I shot twice. Dawson, Alex, and Maxwell came running out. “He tried to kill us.” Dawson nodded, “Get some rest.” Dawson said. I nodded and headed to my house.

I woke up with a slam and Mason was on a masked guys back, I jumped up and ran into another one slamming him into the wall, one grabbed me and another raised a pistol I headbutted the one holding me, I turned his arm behind his back and kicked him against the wall, I then jumped off of the one I charged’s face, I felt the skull shatter against the weight of my foot, I hit the guy with the gun. I grabbed his gun and shot the one Mason was on, blood splattered on his partners, I broke the gun guys neck and shot the one who grabbed me in the back then twice in the head. I threw the glock down, “Jesus where do they come from?” I asked looking at Mason. “I don’t know, but once again we took em’ out.” Mason said.

I walked out of my house, I noticed Alex’s light was on. Me and Mason walked up to his house and I opened his door. Inside sat a walkie talkie and a map with the towns oil and electricity. The walkie talkie was producing someone's voice. “Come in Vector Bravo, is Mark down, repeat is Mark down?” I looked at Mason and nodded.

It was light out and I headed to the garage with Mason, along the way we came across Alex, he stared at us realizing what was happening, I raised my pistol, Mason followed suit. I fired and Mason did too, he surprisingly just stood there and took it, dirty bastard. Alex fell. “It’s you. I knew it. But Mason really?” Maxwell’s voice came from behind. “Don’t bother with Dawson he’s already getting out of here.” “Maxwell come on you know what you’re doing is wrong.” I said, “It’s a tough world, do what you can to survive.” He said pulling out his UMP. “NO MAXWELL DON’T” I said as he fired at me. “IT’S TOO LATE FOR YOU. GUESS YOU DON’T GET TO GO HO-” Blood erupted from his stomach.

Maxwell looks down and back up. “No, no no no no no.” He says stumbling around, blood poking in all directions from his hand. “You actually got me, damn.” He said before he tumbled over the rail of the walkway. I looked over the edge, his body in a pool of blood in the dirt below.

“OVER THERE IT’S DAWSON AND HEARTWELL!” Mason yells and I look over, Dawson and Heartwell climb the stairs to a tower with a helipad. We both run and make it to the top, Mason gets ahead of me and gets tackled by Heartwell coming out of the connecter building, I run out and shoot Heartwell in the back and Mason kicks him off the ledge. Dawson whirled around putting his back to the masked pilot in a helicopter he aims his revolver at me and fires. Mason tackled Dawson before he fired, an explosion goes off sending Dawson flying forward, the helicopter along with half the helipad down about 8 stories, knocking me to the ground and my m9 away from my hand. And Mason… off the edge.

“NOO MASON!” I shout before turning back to Dawson, “You’re alone now Mark.” He says with a sinister smile. “I liked you Mark, but you couldn’t just sit back could you.” “I was doing what’s right, you’re corrupted.” I say slowly drawing my modified glock 42 from my sleeve, I had it incase our plans went wrong like this, I cut the barrel down a couple inches making a short pistol shorter. “Maybe but this, this world is corrupted. And I, I’m surviving.” “You’re responsible for at least 100 deaths so far!” “Gotta do what it takes Mark, you had promise. So much talent wasted on a pussy like you unbelievable.” “You couldn’t just live happily and take the dirty money, no you had to do what’s civil.” “See Mark, what you failed to notice is, I’ve been planning for this, and you can’t stop me now. I’ve won.” I aim my glock. “And it looks like the monster called life has taken another victim.” He raises his revolver. “Indeed it has.” I say, I fire, and I fire, and I fire, and I fire, I fire, I fire, I fire, I fire, I fire till my gun clicks empty.

Dawson falls to one knee, a look of surprise mixed with horror stuck on his face. Blood stains his T-shirt. He falls… dead. I get up grabbing my m9, I head toward the exit.

We had plans to take out a corrupt group of civilians. War criminals, and murderers. Mason and I had done nothing wrong yet still joined. Jack had done well, until he was found.

I contacted the police so they sent Jack to help us. Poor kid. I push a red button and the gate parts, I exit the town where an armored truck was waiting for me with four guys in helmets with M4A1s. I entered the truck.

submitted by /u/hippityhoppityproper [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/3dRZZt1

[caveartfair]

A Banksy Appears on a Building Overnight. Who Gets to Cash In?

Photo by Spencer Platt/Getty Images.

In New York City, spotting a rat isn’t usually something to get excited about. But when an image of the all-too-familiar rodent appeared in mid-March, sprayed in the clock face of a building on 14th Street and 8th Avenue, people took notice. The stencil heralded the return of the anonymous street artist known as Banksy to the streets of Manhattan.

But just days later, the pest was gone—removed not by animal control, but by the developer who owned the building ahead of its slated demolition. Now, there is speculation that the owner, Gemini Rosemont, may sell the Banksy rat, though the company said it is still evaluating its options. Many, including New York State senator Brad Hoylman, have asked them to display the piece in public (the developer preserved a 1954 mural by Julien Binford that was inside the same building).

“I hope the developer will take advantage of their good fortune and keep it public,” Holyman said.

While known for mocking the powerful as they strive to become objects of mass appeal, many of Banksy’s illicit street artworks ultimately belong to private landlords, not the public. After a late-night visit from the anonymous artist, property owners often wake up to find they’ve won the Banksy lottery: He has “vandalized” one of their buildings by gifting it a work by a world-famous artist. And then it is up to them to decide the work’s fate.

Banksy, Slave Labor, 2012. Photo by Deptford Jon, via Flickr.

If the Banksy rat does hit the auction block, it would not be the first piece of public street art put up for sale to enter private hands. The artist’s Slave Labor (2012), painted on the side of the British discount retailer Poundland, sold for $1.1 million in 2013. Flower Girl (2008) fetched roughly $200,000 for the owner of the Los Angeles gas station wall that it adorned in a sale that same year. And there has been talk that the artist’s mural in the British city of Dover, depicting a man chiseling a star off the European Union flag, would be sold by the building’s owners before it is demolished.

The removal and sale of such work is extremely controversial and not always successful, but it is almost never illegal. Created in the absence of any contract or agreement with the property owner, Banksy’s illicit public art in the United States by and large belongs to whoever owns the bricks on which it appears.

“If you put a piece of artwork on property belonging to someone else, the owner of that property can generally do whatever they want with it,” said Andrew Gerber, a founding partner at Kushnirsky Gerber PLLC, where he often represents artists in copyright infringement disputes. (Whether the artist can enforce the copyright to their illicitly created work is a separate, and sometimes tricky, question from who owns the physical object, he noted.)

For this reason, legal challenges to the sale of a Banksy work of public art are almost nonexistent. One major exception came in 2015, when a British judge intervened to halt the sale of Banksy’s Art Buff (2014), which was chiseled off a wall in Folkestone, Kent, and sent to the U.S. to be sold by the building’s leaseholder, a company called Dreamland Leisure. The work was valued between £300,000 and £470,000.

While the judge’s verdict marked an exceptional outcome, the basis of his rationale was traditional property ownership. The building’s owner gave the Creative Foundation, a U.K. arts nonprofit, the right to the work. The foundation then sued Dreamland, which was just the leaseholder, to halt the sale. A judge ruled in favor of the Creative Foundation, finding that a leaseholder’s responsibility to maintain the property doesn’t extend to allowing them to remove a valuable work of art for sale. Art Buff subsequently returned to the U.K., and is slated to be put on public view in the town where it was originally painted.

A work by Banksy titled Flower Girl is seen at Julien's warehouse in Los Angeles, California August 21, 2013. Photo by Robyn Beck/AFP/Getty Images.

“It was, as far as we’re aware, the first time a judge [in the U.K.] has offered an opinion on a graffiti mural that has been painted without permission,” said Tim Maxwell, partner and joint head of the arts group at Boodle Hatfield, which represented the Creative Foundation. Maxwell noted that the verdict established what was essentially new law, though it was based on property law precedent from previous cases.

Those who sell the pieces reject being characterized as villains, instead arguing that they are engaging in a legal practice that actually protects and preserves works by an artist they admire. The buildings that Banksy’s works adorn are sometimes slated for demolition (as in the case of the recent New York rat or the EU flag) or become targets for rivals who deface them.

“If these works are not taken off the wall…they would have and they have been destroyed,” said gallerist Stephan Keszler, who was involved in the halted Art Buff sale.

Keszler argued that he’s putting Banksy’s work in front of more people, noting that tens of thousands of people came to see the Banksys in his booth when he’s exhibited at Art Miami. While he doesn’t have any works in his inventory currently, Keszler said he’s sold over 15 large pieces of Banksy street art in the last few years, at prices ranging from $75,000 to $1.2 million. (Keszler also said he’s considering breaking apart a Banksy street artwork he owns, the artist’s 2013 Sphinx, and selling pieces of it for low prices to the general public.)

But critics of the sales, including Tina Ziegler, director of the art fair Moniker, argue that Banksy is a street artist and understands the nature of putting his work in public, where it could be defaced or destroyed. She said the motive for those who sell his street art is usually profit, not altruism.

Banksy, Art Buff, 2014. Photo by Angus Willson, via Flickr.

Banksy, Kissing Coppers. Photo by Muffinn, via Flickr.

In the past, the artist has forcefully denounced the sales, issuing a statement excoriating “hedge-fund managers wanting to chop [street art] out and hang it over the fireplace” and encouraging “people not to buy anything by anybody unless it was created for sale in the first place.”

“When the artist is saying that, there’s no point to argue,” said Ziegler.

As a rule, Pest Control, the official umbrella company that handles Banksy’s studio business and other matters, doesn’t authenticate his street artworks in an attempt to suppress their potential market, and also to avoid admitting to a crime. The lack of authentication for street artworks means museums and prominent collectors are reticent to purchase them, said Ziegler.

Perhaps for this reason, some sales of Banksy street art can be remarkably unsuccessful. One example came in 2008, when the auction house Lyon & Turnbull offered five Banksy street works of contested authenticity. None sold.

Banksy also stymied profiteers when another artist lost their home because it was sold out from under them after Banksy tagged the exterior. In 2011, Banksy stenciled “this looks a bit like an elephant” on the outside of a California water tower, which an artist named Tachowa Covington had set up as a home. He had even furnished the abandoned tower with a couch, electricity, and other accoutrements.

But the tower was quickly sold by the city of Los Angeles to a design agency after the Banksy work appeared, pushing Covington into homelessness. Banksy didn’t authenticate the piece, leaving the agency buyers in the lurch, and the tank was ultimately consigned to a scrap heap. To make amends, Banksy gave Covington a year’s supply of money—though in July 2013, the Independent reported that the funds had run out and Covington was awaiting state-assisted housing.

Banksy, Mobile Lovers, 2014. Photo by Duncan Hull, via Flickr.

Complicating matters, the people who profit from Banksy’s street art aren’t always faceless corporate developers. The artist’s Kissing Coppers (2004) fetched £345,000 after being removed from the wall of a Brighton pub. The sum helped the pub owner keep his business open, but the sale was still extremely controversial with the public.

Banksy has occasionally intervened to facilitate sales. In 2014, Dennis Stinchcombe discovered Banksy’s Mobile Lovers (2014) painted next to the doorway of his youth club in Bristol. The city removed the work, asserting it appeared on public property and therefore belonged in a public museum. But after Banksy himself wrote a letter giving the work to Stinchcombe, the city backed off. Stinchcombe ultimately sold the piece for £403,000 to a private collector. The funds went to benefit his nonprofit, but the sale still elicited death threats, according to The Guardian.

Whatever Gemini Rosemont decides to do with Banksy’s rat, many people who otherwise wouldn’t care about the demolition of a building in New York’s Chelsea neighborhood are focused on the developer and what it does next. While a Banksy appearing on your wall can potentially bring a cash windfall, it also brings increased scrutiny and the potential for controversy—that’s just the nature of Banksy’s mass appeal.

“He’s an artist for everybody,” said Ziegler. “Not just the elite class.”

from Artsy News

[bt2018bt2018]

Retail Insights February 17, 2018 http://ift.tt/2Glijt0

Click on an image below to zoom in & open photo gallery >>

Does your country's departmental store sell clothing for well endowed ladies

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Y not conspicuously mark all staplers with staples size

Integrate Graphic Images beside Cigarette Price Tag (Enforced by Law) to effectively communicate Effects of Smoking

Integrate Sales Pitch Beside Brand Name

Use of Shelf Lighting attract customer nearer to product

Logo that encompass kids, trees and knowledge

Explicit signage encourage customers to press any preset to hear this speaker

Outside and Inside of Elevator have matching tiles

Turn all sides of your product into space for sales pitch

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Invention prevents your liquor from getting diluted

Y Pair Display Suit with Matching Shirt Colour

Use different club lighting to sell shoes

TV display Delicious Food max profits

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Food Truck for chips and sauce

Lotto machine plays voice message if you had won or not won your ticket to prevent fraud - I got cheated of my winning ticket in Singapore

Shops directory at a single glace by building entrance along the street

Pop out Mannequin Max Profits

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Print Promotion Offer on separate paper and pass to customers together with receipt

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Departmental Store Thank You for Your Patience

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[rfmichellerodrigueznudekh-blog1]

Steps to Secure Garage Door Repair Pasadena

Is the storage secure? When you're likely to the storage each morning are you able to make sure that your vehicle continues to be in its location? other home you're maintaining there, along with your vehicle, is concealed from strangers' eyes. This doesn't imply that thieves aren't currently gasping for all those issues. Criminals aren't silly - they select some weaker places within the storage if splitting the doorway appears challenging.

Consequently, you need to focus on the whole storage. Concentrating on the lock isn't enough.

We suggest one to focus on making an elaborated security-level. the advantages may continue for many years, although opportunities aren't large.

1. Reinforce wall buildings

You need to certainly go over storage wall buildings in case your storage is over 20 yrs old.

Structures out of this period have stone surfaces that are usually solitary, and also the combination between your stones might have dropped its usefulness.

That type of surfaces ought to be guaranteed in the exterior whenever you can. Protect with metal corrugated page or act panel. This might not function as the answer that is most dependable, however it retains the walls and makes transmission harder.

We recommend incorporating rock-wool underneath the cladding. To get a storage that is chilly it's insufficient, however it could keep the heat continuous. Walls won't collect that a lot of humidity and cool.

Get it done in the inside when the wall is difficult to protect in the exterior. For instance, you should use act panel or linen metal. Therefore putting stiffness and components, which avoid splitting through, strengthens the solid wall that is fragile. One extra choice would be to deploy racks on the garage's inside surfaces. If criminals are intending to enter through the surfaces these can give some additional obstacles.

2. Secure the door

Generally, door frames that were aged are freely mounted on the wall buildings. In the earlier days door frames were mounted on tiles, which between your stones were covered in turn. For nowadays, such types do not maintain the door frame securely in position, and of tiles are free.

You'll certainly possess about just how to reinforce the door frame a problem. We suggest one to create some supports made within the edges of the doorpost of angle-iron. To ensure that among the stops is about the part of the post you weld some iron bars over the angle-iron, and also the different is securely mounted on the door frame. In this manner the fastener nearby moves. Today tugging the doorway is nearly impossible.

Additionally, look your garage door buildings over. Several robberies are dedicated like a thief enters the storage and eliminates the wooden sections in the doorway. You've to ensure that eliminating the wooden sections is challenging difficult to complete or, even better.

Possibly timber of the door frame is also outdated? Timber that will be in a poor situation or bad ought to be changed having a one that was correct. There is, which a doorway decades-old, might be at its life's end. In this instance, the doorway should be replaced by you, likewise.

3. Reinforce the door's hinge part

it can also be essential that the thief doesn't have additional options for entering the building, although safe door-lock is definitely an important aspect of protection.

Particularly, gates that are aged have handles, that are mounted on the doorway area. The toughest choice is the fact that they're merely connected with screws which are simple to eliminate. Edition that is a means better is the fact that handles are bolted through the doorway. You need to be mindful that almonds unavailable and of door hinge products are inside.

Additional essential facet of the storage gates protection is the fact that it is lifted by a can't off the handles while being secured. You need to use a wooden column on top fringe of the door frame when the doorway may shift upwards.

It's feasible to cut-through the men and start the door in the exterior when the handles are about the exterior area of the doorway. To prevent this some protection should be installed by you stud hooks about the door-frame aspect. Protection stud so the end-of the stuffed brad screws itself within the doorpost hooks are mounted about the handles aspect of the doorway. Men like the doorway is protected by these from raising it off the handles.

On situation that you simply can't locate any appropriate protection stud flag, you may also develop it on your own about the internal area of the doorway.

Regardless, keep in mind that the door hinges' security is really as essential as lock protection.

4. Locks

Storage doors are often two sided. Among the attributes is active. Nonetheless, both factors are equally significant. You need to analyze the latches of if required, and the aspect of the doorway, reinforce the guarantees. Go over the section of locations that are impressive, likewise. These may require some conditioning as well. Securing host to the latches is quite frequently worn out, or even the dish that is impressive isn't adequate. Bear in mind that criminals don't care, which aspect of the doorway is weaker.

If required, substitute the passive part utilize any door bolt, or latches with fresh types. It enables shutting the garage door safely having a simple movement.

Which kind of storage lock to make use of?

Alleged padlocks and storage locks are traditional securing techniques. The one is by using large bolt deadlock mounted on the inner-side of the padlock or doorway outside. Them both are ideal for guarding the doorway. We've fulfilled customers who utilize the locks at the same time both. When edge lock tube funnel is coated with padlock hasps probably the most fascinating answer for safety is. Finesse somewhat stretches of splitting in criminals period.

Deploy the lock about the door's inner-side - it creates the lock difficult to achieve. Make sure to examine the impressive dish and also the lock are correctly fitted.

Allow the lock that is previous retire

In case your lock is more than 30 years, you need to substitute this tired lock having a lively and fresh one. Locks might be worn out plus they might have several mistakes. Additionally, it's challenging to create new secrets.

Don't allow the scenario proceed to date that your authorization is retired without by your lock.

The padlock of Abloy

Should you secure your door you need to view the compatibility between the iron hasps and also the padlock. We recommend a 3-5 quality Abloy padlock that is good. The padlocks of Abloy are recognized for their water-resistance characteristics, as well as for their strong shackles building. The element is essential since the everyday atmosphere of the padlock is cold and mainly wet. Nevertheless, it's sensible to protect the lock to prevent strong rain. Keep your padlock by lubricating it using the lock gas spring and every drop. If freeze in winter Abloy is lock oil lubricates the lock nicely and certainly will not allow.

Use padlock hasps that are correct . The protected padlock hasps of Abloy allow it to be harder to get a thief to gain access to the lock.

Select the padlocks which are guarded having a safety card of Abloy Book in case your secrets require a safety against duplication.

Lock-Specialist includes a big selection of padlocks. Nevertheless, these aren't enough for that garage doors.

5. Discourage criminals

Inconspicuously and criminals plan to achieve a robbery silently. You can usually arrange a shock. They'll instantly think about departing when the criminals notice a noisy alarm. The audio transmission itself is troubling, and subsequently, it draws interest.

Inside your storage, you need to use any signalization that is easy. A motion sensor trigger the alarm and or perhaps a doorway indicator is enough to repair the intrusion. So the crook isn't ready to slice the cables deploy the alarm. No sound will be made by gSM security program. It calls silently for your cell that you choose whether it's essential to contact law enforcement before you achieve the area oneself, and may reply. Because of the integral microphone, you are able to hear what's occurring inside your storage.

Use stereo transmitter to put up and take the signalization off. By using this, that you don't need to wait starting the doorway and you will do your issues in the exterior.

When the signalization informs you of the intrusion wouldn't it's excellent? For that benefit such as this, you need to use perhaps a GSM alarm intruder program or a house alarm system. Once the storage is near house the home security alarm would work. The GSM alarm intruder program is very good for all those whose storage is abroad. Along with the alarm, cell phone will be called for you by it and you'll be informed of the intrusion, even if you're not in the home.

If your garage door has damages by the burglars please immediately contact us at garage door repair Pasadena.

6. Once the garage door shocks

As you leave or enter the vehicle towards the storage, the gates must stay in the place that is open. You should use perhaps a broomstick, like stones or some obstacles, but could it be set enough?

There is a answer by using a door-stop. Once it's mounted, that you don't need to be worried about the breeze striking your vehicle with the garage door. You should use the doorway end, with a rubber-band that retains itself on the floor should you not need to invest lots of cash. It retains itself facing the doorway although being on the relaxing place. That type of door end stops typical motion of the doorway. Nevertheless, having a powerful breeze, it might remain fragile.