#decorativering

[asistenta-virtuala]

Cum să îți transformi grădina într-un Paradis de Vară: Sfaturi și trucuri

Vara este anotimpul perfect pentru a petrece cât mai mult timp afară, iar grădina ta poate deveni locul ideal de relaxare și distracție. Dacă vrei să îți transformi grădina într-un adevărat paradis de vară, avem câteva sfaturi și trucuri care te vor ajuta să creezi un spațiu de vis. 1. Planifică-ți Designul Primul pas pentru a-ți transforma grădina este să ai un plan clar. Gândește-te ce îți…

[winsource]

Contemporary Basement Medium-sized modern basement image with green walls and porcelain tile flooring

[sebastianchris]

Contemporary Living Room - Living Room

With gray walls, a ribbon fireplace, a wood fireplace surround, and no television, this mid-sized contemporary formal and loft-style living room idea features porcelain tile flooring.

[foodandboozeme]

Basement Tel Aviv Inspiration for a mid-sized modern basement renovation with green walls, gray floors, and porcelain look-out tiles.

[blentapw-blog]

(via mystical beautiful lady with butterfly in flowers AI Magnet by SBlagojevic)

[ohnoitstbskyen]

They turned him into an anime boy haha https://twitter.com/spideraxe30/status/1676427863992463362?s=46&t=iPiW6_AcyhGzA3TEHU2-mg

... hhhhhuh. Yeah okay, that's definitely An Update. Does he actually look any different in-game? Did he get new animation?

Either way, that sure is... a way to approach him. A rather boring way, I feel.

Like, Vladimir is a dandy. Ignoring his terrible, terrible presentation in League of Legends, to me he always felt like he was supposed to be this over-the-top Dorian Grey hyper-hedonistic maximalist pleasure seeker, fully reveling in wearing outrageous fashion and being The Most Extra at all times

Wild Rift Vladimir certainly looks less silly, and a lot prettier (which is, in its way, an improvement, Vladimir SHOULD be an impossibly beautiful pretty boy I think), but this just feels aesthetically way too basic for him.

It's reduced his colors down to just the Noxus Base Palette, and completely removed the decorativism and ornamentation from his outfit. It seems like a design that's going for Sleek™ and I feel like he should look more like covered himself in glue and rolled through Howl Pendragon's bedroom

Like, he should look like he has a taste for the exotic and expensive, someone who hoards trinkets and jewelry and fashion items like a magpie, someone who wants to show you such delights, my dear, oh truly, someone who dazzles and overwhelms with sheer magnitude of decoration.

Someone who disarms his victims by seeming like a harmless, foppish pretty boy, right up until the blade of his claw rises up your neck and he asks you if you won't please stay for a drink.

Which, by the way, if you wanted to tie him more deeply into Noxus as a region, having him be someone ostentatiously displaying the looted aesthetics of regions and cultures that the empire is actively conquering would be a great way to do that. He's basically a vampire, you won't find a more pitch-perfect metaphorical avatar of imperialism than that.

All my criticisms aside, mind you, anything is better than how horrid he looks in League of Legends right now, so call it a step down aesthetically and a big step up in production value.

[operafantomet]

How many different variations were there of the side sculptures on the replica proscenium? Because it's so intricate and detailed I can barely make out differences in pictures between different productions, but I know some have the statues 'draped', some seem to be double the size of others etc etc? (Some have wreaths , some have nothing but stil), thank you!

Well, good question. There are many variation of the same theme. Sometimes the differences are subtle, sometimes more noticeable.

Basically all versions, old and new, original and revamped, feature the upper side sculptures. The original combo was a winged woman behind a satyr, and one or two women wriggling away from the satyr at each side: One stretching in over the proscenium, the other either stretching out of the proscenium, or looking into the audience. They're standing on a lintel / architrave / horizontal decorativ frieze, just where the proscenium meets the auditorium.

Here's one from the original West End production c. 2014:

And here from the Hamburg revival in 2013:

Some of the upper side sculptures are sometimes cut. It can be due to weight, or them blocking the view of too many seats in the auditorium. That also goes for the lower side sculptures. Some prosceniums has featured none at all, others has featured smaller or bigger combos of them. The three most used ones are:

Full with drape underneath (left, Las Vegas, World Tour, US Tour etc), "regular" full (middle, West End, Broadway etc), half sculpture group focusing on the lower part (right, Japan, World Tour). The World Tour has also done the half-version with the drape under, which makes it look bigger. This is not depicted here.

And with this in mind... if ignoring the more subtle differences I'd say these are some main set-ups of the proscenium:

The main look has been like what was seen in West End and Broadway and many international productions to follow: The Golden Angel, lyres and garlands, plus sculpture groups at the upper corners and lower proscenium. Depicted under here is West End, Broadway and Basel.

A thing frequently seen in Japan is the same basic set-up, but lower and sometimes wider stage. Lower stage means fewer side sculptures. The upper side sculptures feature one less female figure, removing the one stretching into the auditorium. But more visible is the much smaller group underneath, in the lower side sculptures. They usually only do half the sculpture group. This is Tokyo 2005:

Then the World Tour in Guangzhou 2015. The set-up was very similar to that of Japan, with one less female sculpture at the upper sides, and with half a sculpture group in the lower half. But they did the drape construction under the sculptures, making them almost twice the size as what was seen in Tokyo.

And now for something completely different... The original Stockholm prododuction and later the Copenhagen production cut the side sculptures entirely due to the side-view seats. Instead this area featured a wreath. Note too the shorter distace between the Golden Angel and the side sculptures. This made for a beautiful, albeit top-heavy proscenium.

The Stockholm revival production was staged in a circular theatre, which meant there were not too many bearing constructions to attach the proscenium to, and the layout of the theatre meant a lot of seats would get the side-view blocked by eventual sculptures. So they kept the main proscenium, which was from the World Tour, but didn't do the lower side sculptures. Unlike the original Sctokholm production they didn't add an additional ornament either:

Then the rare case of the "double proscenium" in the original Viennese production. Due to the layout of the auditorium the top sculptures were placed in the outer area, while the lower side sculptures was moved in on stage.

Note that both the Stockholm/Copenhagen version, The Japanese version and the Viennese version was designed by Maria Bjørnson herself. It was her way of taking the original set-up and adapt it to the specific theatres. Ideally the proscenium should look like a part of the auditorium, blurring the lines between stage and audience, and for this elements has to be switched around. She was however very thorough with the placement of the Golden Angel and the surrouding garlands and lyres, making this a continuous curving line.

I think my all-time favourite of prosceniums matching the auditorium is the Paris set-up. It just... melts into the auditorium! They also did the whole shebang, all sculptures, all details. Aaaah!

My love for the World Tour is endless, but I really wish they would beef up that proscenium. The lack of the Golden Angel and the lack of the lower side sculptures makes it look a bit... boxy. A middle ornament of some sort and a wreath like Stockholm / Copenhagen would have softened the look considerably.

I could go on about the changes in the new prosceniums, the lack of side sculptures, lack of the Golden Angel, or the extended Las Vegas set, whatnot. But that's for another photoset. This one is rather a homage to the original design and various adaptions of it.

[simverses]

Tomarang Artisan Build Deco Objects & Shop Signs

A set of objects, useful when building - matching the Artisan Build set and Deco Houses

Converted and separated from Settlers 6

In this set:

- A set of deco boxes (not really build deco, but still :)

- A decorativ beam for rooves

- A deco tower, for roof or wall

- A deco dormer

- A deco quadrant (roof deco or what you want it for)

- A deco spire

- A deco balcony

- A  deco bay window

- Window awnings - 2 sizes

All merged in one file as they share textures. Unmerge if you want to edit or remerge, but keep the files together.

SHOP SIGNS

Converted and separated from Settlers 6: Shop signs for the Jeweler and for the Spice Trader

Hang outside your shop. Adjustable height.

Matches the Tomarang sets. And all my other Settlers sets. (Much more to come).

Download Tomarang Artisan Build Deco Objects (Curseforge)

Download Tomarang Artisan Shop Signs (Curseforge)

[rosepetalgold]

the art of saying goodbye

Summary: Remus expects a lot of things from the Queen Anne Victorian house he’s just purchased—a restoration project to occupy his time, some peace and quiet from nosy neighbors, a chance to brag about being a homeowner before his goody two-shoes brother.

What he doesn’t expect is for the property to come with a very real, very curious ghost. But what is he supposed to do, just ignore the spirit? That'd be nothing short of rude, especially considering that the specter's fascination with modern science and penchant for hijacking Remus' technology proves unfairly endearing.

But even as their unlikely friendship grows, so too do the questions swirling in Remus’ mind: Why is Logan still haunting the place he used to live? Who is the mysterious Janus he refuses to talk about? And what will it take for the ghost to finally find peace with the life and the love that were stolen from him so long ago?

Relationships: Platonic Intrulogical, past romantic Loceit, background romantic Prinxiety

Warnings for this chapter: None!

Word Count: 7000

Notes: My fic for this year's @sandersidesbigbang, aka another angsty tale that inexplicably grew out of a single fluffy scene, aka a prime excuse to procrastinate by poring through countless photos of beautiful Queen Anne houses my beloved. I hope you enjoy this ghostie story as much I enjoyed writing it! A big shoutout to my wonderful beta reader @dragonsaphirareads for all their feedback on this fic, and don't miss the amazing art by the incredible @casart and @onthevirgeofdestruction—you can check out their pieces here and here! (Seriously, even if you don't read the fic, go feast your eyes on their work because it is straight-up stunning. Go look, you'll see.)

Read on Ao3 Masterpost

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start (you’re here!) - next

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“This place is definitely haunted.”

Remus snorts, giving his brother a friendly sock in the arm.

“Oh come on, Ro, you scared of a few ghosties now? Afraid a floating white sheet is gonna jump out and yell boo?”

Roman doesn’t answer, just eyes the Queen Anne Victorian home in front of them with the amount of trepidation he usually reserved for any time Remus started a sentence with ‘I have an idea.’ The house does give off distinctly spooky vibes, Remus has to admit, what with its boards in desperate need of a new coat of paint and its broken window in the attic, not to mention the porch that looks liable to send someone plummeting to the ground if they take a single wrong step, but what was wrong with any of that? It all just added to the building’s character, and the risk of falling through the veranda was a delightful way to keep visitors on their toes, in his superior opinion.

And besides, he couldn’t turn his nose up at the property’s many flaws when they made it dirt-cheap. He wasn’t exactly a millionaire.

He grabs Roman’s arm, tugging him forward.

“C’mon, there’s some wicked spindlework on the back you gotta check out.”

His brother makes a sound of protest, dragging his feet as Remus hauls him onward.

“Aren’t we going to go inside?”

“Nah, I don’t have the keys yet. Everything’s still pending or whatever.”

Roman shifts his incredulous gaze from the house to Remus.

“You made me come all this way just to look at the outside of a house you haven’t even officially bought yet?”

Why yes, he had. He was such a good brother.

“Don’t act like it’s such a burden to drive twenty minutes out of the way to get here, especially when it means you’re twenty minutes closer to a booty call with Virgil.”

Roman splutters, face flushing a splendidly scandalized shade of crimson, and Remus cackles. That was more like it.

“Now c’mon c’mon c’mon, the sooner you ooh and aah over all my cool house shit, the sooner you can get some of that good di—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Roman interrupts, slapping his hands over his ears, but he doesn’t protest as Remus pulls him around to the back of the house and points out the expansive if overgrown backyard, the plethora of decorative elements adorning the home, the leaded glass windows that have survived well over a century.

“I don’t get it, though,” Roman says as he eyes the tower gracing the corner of the house, something Remus would swear is a hint of jealousy in his gaze. Made sense. He knows for a fact his brother would sell his soul to be Rapunzel. “If this is such a nice place, why has it sat empty for so long?”

“Dunno. The realtor just said it stayed in the family of the guy who built it for a while before changing hands a bunch. Apparently every time it’s been on the market it’s taken ages to find a buyer, but she didn’t really say why no one wanted to live here for too long.” Probably just her trying not to scare him away from what was clearly a substantial restoration project so she wouldn’t lose her commission. Either that or there was some kind of toxic fungus in the walls that had taken over all the previous residents’ brains and turned them into zombies and Remus was about to become its next victim.

What a delightful gamble to find out which one it was.

“Can we please go now before some serial killer comes charging out of this place and we both end up on the news?” Roman asks, already edging back towards the front of the house.

“Sure, if you really want to give up your one shot of having your fifteen minutes of fame in the media,” Remus replies, dancing away with a grin as Roman aims a kick at his shins. “Fine, fine, we’ll go. I wouldn’t want to keep you from a hot date and some—”

Something catches his attention, a flash of movement out of the very corner of his eye, and he pauses mid-stride, doing a double-take at the second-story balcony overlooking the backyard.

Nothing. Not even a curtain blowing in the non-existent breeze.

“What?” Roman questions from where he’s also stopped a few yards ahead of him.

Remus looks a moment longer, searching for anything out of place, but all is still.

“Nothing. Probably just a bat or something. Wouldn’t that be cool as shit, to have bats as roommates? Hey, maybe they have rabies if they’re out in the daytime. Did you know…”

He launches into a spiel of the most gruesome and fascinating facts he knows about the disease, joyfully watching his brother’s face grow increasingly horrified with each one as they make their way back across the yard, and by the time they reach the driveway, the flicker of movement is barely a blip on his mental radar.

Just a trick of his eyes, surely.

It wasn’t like houses could actually be haunted, after all.

---

Home sweet home.

Or home rundown-and-slightly-musty-smelling home, as the case may be, but who was Remus to nitpick?

He fits his shiny new key into the lock and steps inside, letting the door click shut solidly behind him as he pauses just over the threshold, taking a moment to survey the foyer. His foyer now, in his very own home. The sale had been endless offers and counteroffers and a mountain of paperwork so large he’s positive he could have buried himself beneath it and never been seen again, but the place is finally his.

Him, a homeowner. Who’d have thunk it. He’ll be rubbing this in Roman’s apartment-renting face every chance he can get, thank you very much. It’s the least he can do, really.

He unceremoniously deposits the cardboard box in his arms on the floor and wanders further inside, trailing his hand along the smooth wood of the stair banister as he passes. He’s supposed to be meeting some of his friends back at his old place shortly—or now, actually, but that was wholly irrelevant—to start moving all of his worldly possessions into his fancy new abode, but he hadn’t been able to resist the temptation of taking the first load of boxes alone just to have the place to himself for a bit; he could use a few minutes to enjoy the space in peace before it’s filled with Roman and Virgil squabbling about the worst Disney movie heroes or whatever argument they were bound to get into.

Despite its well-worn exterior, the house is in surprisingly good condition inside, he muses as he roams through the empty rooms. There’s clearly extensive work that needs to be done if he wants to restore the place to its Victorian glory, an ambitious undertaking he knows will be neither cheap nor easy, but the bones of the structure are all solid, especially considering how many years it’s stood empty.

He finishes his meandering loop around the first floor and heads up the stairs, the tread of his steps entirely too loud for the pervasive quiet as he continues his exploratory wandering through the second story rooms. He pauses as he reaches what is clearly the master bedroom, surveying the original fireplace, the century-old hardwood, the attached balcony that was just begging to be used to pour water onto his unsuspecting brother’s head. Shit, his new house was cool as fuck.

It’d make the most sense to start hauling his load of boxes here, considering that’s where most of his crap is going to end up eventually, but the longer he hovers in the doorway, the more something feels … off. Just the slightest tingle prickling down his spine, and not the good kind. He steps inside and the temperature drops noticeably, a chill raising the hair on his arms.

“The fuck?” he mutters, raking his gaze over the windows in search of damaged panes letting in a breeze, but everything is intact.

He advances another step on impulse and the pinpricks dancing along his vertebrae only grow stronger, now accompanied by the distinct feeling he’s being watched. He scans the room again, slower this time, but there’s no furniture, no closet, not so much as a nook or cranny for anyone or anything to hide. Even the ceiling is empty when he turns his gaze upwards on the off chance he really does have some bats hanging around that he’s somehow missed on his numerous pre-sale walk-throughs.

Nary a beady eye to be found and still the sensation of being in someone’s sights doesn’t lessen. Not that it’s a threatening feeling, exactly, just distinctly unsettling, like there’s someone behind him no matter how many times he glances over his shoulder and finds nothing but empty air.

But that was crazy. He’d read the final sale documents until his eyes had been about to start bleeding and he’s absolutely positive that the house hadn’t come with any roommates. He’s probably just imagining the feeling, the result of watching one too many horror movies in the last week or his brain making things up in an attempt to liven up the empty space.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, yanking him out of his thoughts, and he rolls his eyes without even looking at the screen, already able to see the text from Roman in his mind’s eye: where you at?? i’m not packing up all your crap for you followed by an absurdly long string of emojis that basically constituted their own Roman-specific hieroglyphic language.

Time to face the moving-day music before Roman got annoyed enough with waiting that he rescinded his promise of free manual labor, then. Any investigations of potential invisible voyeurs would have to wait, no matter how titillating such a prospect sounded when he put it like that.

“You win for now, house,” he says into the quiet as he turns to leave, an edge of coldness still dancing along the goosebumps on his skin. “Keep your secrets. I’ll figure ‘em out eventually.”

---

The afternoon passes in a blur of hauling entirely too many heavy boxes and unwieldy pieces of furniture to the new house, and by the time night settles onto the horizon, Remus is utterly exhausted. He flops back on the couch, too tired to even think about putting his bedframe together, and he’s out in minutes.

He wakes disoriented, mind scrabbling blankly for a moment before the darkness coalesces into the still-unfamiliar contours of his sitting room. He just lies there for a moment, trying to figure out what’s roused him, but all is still. Just his brain deciding to deprive him of some tantalizingly horrifying nightmares, unfortunately—

Tap tap tap.

Remus bolts upright at the unmistakable sound of footsteps on the hardwood upstairs, adrenaline surging in a dizzying rush. There hadn’t been any signs of a squatter all day, and surely he’d remembered to lock the doors so no one could steal all the crap he’d just spent a whole day of his life lugging around. He waits for a moment, holding his breath as silence falls, and just when he’s about to pass the whole thing off as his imagination playing tricks on him, the steps start up again, slow and rhythmic like someone is pacing on the upper level.

Fuck his luck. If someone is secretly living in the attic of his fancy new home, he’s not going to be pleased.

He rolls off the couch and snatches his phone off of one of the plethora of boxes waiting to be unpacked, debating whether to risk turning on the flashlight before deciding for it; he might give away any element of surprise with the beam, but he’s certain to give it away if he starts banging face-first into walls or cracking his skull open falling down the stairs. His eye catches on a glass paperweight on the coffee table, a characteristically pretentious housewarming present from Roman, who apparently thought Remus had so many papers flying about that he needed to corral them with a glorified rock, and he seizes it on a whim.

Makeshift weapon was a much more useful purpose for the thing than its intended function anyways.

He edges around the scattered boxes towards the stairs, careful to keep his steps light and his hand shielding the light from his phone as the footfalls continue overhead, and makes it all the way up the steps without so much as a creak to give him away.

Flawless. He knew all those times sneaking up behind Roman to scare the shit out of him as kids would pay off someday.

He pauses on the landing to triangulate the noise, then creeps down the hall towards the footsteps as the sound grows even more distinct. The master bedroom again? What the actual fuck was going on with that room? Had he really managed to miss someone in there when he’d investigated earlier in the day? No, he couldn’t have, but then how had someone managed to get past where he’d been sleeping on the couch? Unless he really did have somebody living in the walls—

A floorboard squeaks underneath his foot, deafeningly loud in the quiet of the night, and the footsteps abruptly stop. Remus swears under his breath. Traitorous piece of wood. Now or never, then.

He lunges forward into the doorway of the master bedroom, raising the paperweight and howling a war cry as he swings his light across the room to reveal—

Nothing. The space is as entirely and utterly empty as it had been that morning.

Well, shit. There went any element of surprise he had left.

He darts back into the hall, racing to search through the rest of the rooms on the upper level one by one, but they’re all just as vacant as the first. He even hauls himself into the attic, bracing himself to be clubbed over the head by whoever is lurking, but with the exception of innumerable shadows billowing away from his flashlight, the space proves equally empty as the rest.

Unease stirs in his gut, creeping in alongside the lingering adrenaline as he makes his way back down the precariously rickety ladder into the main house. Surely there’s no way someone could have gotten past him, not when he would have heard them in the hall or going down the stairs.

And yet, as far as he can tell, besides a few mice tucked away in the attic, there isn’t another living soul in the house.

He stops in the doorway of the master bedroom again, staring inside. He’s positive this is where the footsteps had been emanating from, lack of proof be damned. Something weird was going on with this house.

Good thing Remus had just made the biggest financial commitment of his life to buy it.

Nothing for it now but to hope some elusive, wall-dwelling ax murderer doesn’t give him the chop in his sleep, he supposes, although he has to admit that’d be a badass way to go.

He reluctantly makes his way back downstairs and shoves a pile of boxes at the foot of the stairs to trip any nefarious intruders coming down, then retreats back to the couch, all the while keeping his ears primed for so much as a whisper of sound above him.

But even though it takes him a long time to drift back to sleep, the house around him remains as silent as a grave.

---

The whole thing must have been an impressively lucid dream, Remus decides the next morning. A second investigation in the light of day doesn’t reveal anything out of place: no shoe prints on the floor, no critters, certainly no people. It was probably nothing then, he tries to convince himself, just his overactive imagination needing an outlet after being a bit too jittery from all the excitement of moving.

But he finds himself pausing in the master bedroom again, something drawing him back to the space. First the chill and the strange feeling of being watched, then the mysterious footsteps? Two separate coincidences, or something more?

God, he sounded about as paranoid as Virgil. Next thing he knew he was going to be inventing his very own conspiracy theory to explain a few bumps in the night.

It really was nothing, he tells himself, shaking off any lingering unease as he tromps back down the stairs. If he starts jumping at every little noise in his old-as-shit house, he’ll be long dead before he gets the property restored. If he starts seeing glowing red eyes in the dark, he’ll start to worry. Until then, he has a mountain of boxes to unpack.

Unfortunately, said mountain does not pull a Beauty and the Beast and begin unpacking itself, leaving Remus to spend a dreadfully dull afternoon doing it instead, only the allure of building a fort out of all the empty boxes keeping him from living out of cardboard for the rest of his life.

By the time he’s finally finished unboxing most of the downstairs and getting the tv and wifi set up, most of the day has passed him by, afternoon sunlight splaying golden fingers across the hardwood.

Break time, then. He’s earned it, if he does say so himself.

He collapses onto the couch, flipping on the tv and surfing through the channels until he finds a rerun of some low-budget horror film from the eighties. Perfect. Nothing like a bit of mindless tv to rot his brain just that much more. Settling back more comfortably into the cushions, he pops open the bag of chips he’s snagged from the kitchen and pulls out his phone, beginning to scroll through his notifications.

Modern multitasking at its finest, truly.

But he’s barely a minute into atrophying his mind via social media before the tv starts flickering, volume dropping precipitously before ratcheting back up, the picture jumping to the weather channel, then a British cooking show, then the news with Spanish subtitles flashing in and out at the bottom of the screen.

Remus freezes with a chip halfway to his mouth, staring at the remote where it’s very definitely out of his reach on the coffee table, all by its lonesome. He’s no expert, but he’s pretty sure technology was not, in fact, supposed to suddenly start functioning by itself without any human input. Was his new house secretly sitting over some freaky radioactive waste? That would certainly explain why no one had wanted to buy it. Or was this some EMP disaster? Had someone decided to take out the whole country’s power grid, starting with Remus’ shitty tv?

He sits up, reaching for the rogue remote, only to pause as a chill moves over him, then past him like it’s heading for the tv, and the screen crackles, static beginning to fuzz both the video and the audio as the picture continues to leap wildly between programs.

Fuck the remote, then. Whatever freak accident has descended upon his living room, it’s time to go straight to the source.

Abandoning his snack, he stands, striding to the outlet and yanking the plug out of the wall. Silence falls immediately, the screen fading to black, but there still lingers a noticeable chill in the air, cold energy palpable against his skin and all too reminiscent of the feeling he remembers from being in the master bedroom.

“What the hell,” he mutters under his breath, casting his gaze around the room. Empty, just as upstairs had been the last three times he’d checked. He takes a step backwards, then another, and the strange chill decreases. On a whim, he pulls out his phone, scrolling through several apps without even paying attention to them, and sure enough, the hair on his arms raises as the temperature falls again, that sparking feeling of energy growing more intense as his phone begins to flicker on its own.

“What the actual hell,” he whispers again. Roman can’t have been right—this place can’t actually be haunted. There’s absolutely no way there’s a real, live—or dead, technically, he supposes—ghost in his living room right now playing fuck-up-the-electronics.

But if there is…

“Hello?” he calls, and the flickering abruptly stops, chill retreating once more. Shit. One word in and apparently Remus has already fucked things up. “Hello?” he tries again. Did this maybe-possible-potential ghostie even speak English? “I’m Remus,” he says, feeling more than a little crazy for introducing himself to his empty living room. If Roman ever knew of this, he’d die laughing and then Remus really would have a ghost haunting his ass.

He wracks his brain for something to say. If he were a ghost and a stranger started moving all of their shit into his home, what would he want to hear from them?

“Um, cool house you have here. I’m not gonna like, fuck it up or anything.”

Silence.

“I’m planning on restoring it bit by bit as I have money so if you could tell me the original paint color or wallpaper patterns, that’d be dope.”

Still nothing. Apparently the ghost is not amused. Time for a different tactic, then.

“What’s your name?”

Not even a cricket chirping. Jesus fucking christ, Remus is really blowing this.

“That’s the tv—the television,” he explains, gesturing towards the device that had seemingly either fascinated or enraged his new housemate, he can’t quite tell which. “It works by… well, I don’t really know how it works. Something with waves and frequencies or some shit? But you can watch recordings, people acting or baking or doing dumb reality dating shows or whatever, so if there’s something that you wanna see…”

He trails off, surreptitiously scanning the room for any ethereal presences, but the house is quiet, the ghostly feeling fading bit by bit. Great. An actual paranormal experience and he’s gone and shoved his foot so far in his mouth he can practically feel his toes wiggling in his small intestine.

“Alright, that’s cool, no worries. Just lemme know if you change your mind.”

He waits a moment more, hoping for a disembodied voice to speak or an object to start moving on its own or his body to suddenly become possessed, but there’s nothing. Snagging his leather jacket off the back of the couch, he beelines for the door, forcing himself not to run as excitement begins to grow with every step, bubbling up around his bones. He has a ghost. A ghost, an actual fucking ghost, and he hadn’t even had to pay extra for it. No way he’s not going to take advantage of the universe handing him the sickest housewarming present in the world, never mind the fact that he might end up a walking meat suit for the spirit.

He pauses as he reaches the edge of the yard, then thinks better of it and pivots, heading for his car instead. Who knew how far ghost range was, and he doesn’t want his new roomie overhearing. He’s practically vibrating with energy as he makes his way down the long, winding drive, and he only makes it a few miles down the road before he’s pulling over onto the shoulder, hopefully well out of spirit range.

His first call rings through to voicemail, but Remus doesn’t bother leaving a message, just hangs up and tries again, only to be met with the same result. The third time, though, proves to be the charm.

“What,” the voice on the other end spits, cheerful as ever. “Fuck you, Remus, I’m in the middle of—”

“You’re still into all that weird stuff, right? Like the cryptids and the creepies and the ghouls and ghosties and all that?” Remus interrupts. He can deal with Virgil’s wrath another time—he has information he needs and he needs it pronto.

A pause, so long he’s sure Virgil has hung up on him and he’s going to have to keep calling until the emo answers his question.

“Yeah?” the distrustful reply finally comes, anger blunted by obvious wariness. “Why—”

“I need to pick your brain,” Remus cuts in again. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

---

Plan Contact The Resident Possibly Unfriendly Ghost Who Might Possess Him, or CTRPUGWMPH to be short and snappy about it, is officially a go.

Unfortunately, it isn’t off to a promising start.

Virgil’s knowledge had turned out to be more spirit lore than specifics about how to get a ghost to actually appear, although he’d been infinitely more helpful than Roman, who’d just stared at him and asked if he’d had the house checked for carbon monoxide poisoning. Remus had soundly ignored him and had left Virgil’s apartment with his head swimming with theories about why ghosts haunt particular places and an extensive lecture from Virgil about how to find any potential objects or reasons tying a ghost to the house that might provide a potential talking point to engage said ghost in conversation.

But despite digging into every crack and crevice on the internet, emailing the local historical society, even calling his realtor to ask again about the history of the property, Remus comes up with precious little. The house had originally been built in the 1880s by a local merchant, everyone seems to agree, and had been inherited by his nephew soon after, but beyond that there’s frustratingly scant information available, and he can’t find so much as a whisper about anyone dying in the home. His ghostie could be anyone, then: A Victorian builder who’d taken a tumble, a flapper girl who’d partied a tad too hard, a hapless victim of some modern serial killer who’d taken advantage of the place sitting abandoned for years to do a bit of light murdering. 

With precisely zero context clues as to his new housemate’s identity, then, Remus embraces his remarkable talent of keeping up an entirely one-sided conversation as he works around the house the next few days, rambling about anything and everything related to the property he can think of, hoping something will pique the ghost’s interest. But besides a few more cold spots and flickering screens, the house remains stubbornly quiet. Maybe his ghost just needed a bit of help in communicating, though; drifting around an empty building with no one to talk to for the past god-knew-how-many years can’t have done good things to their incorporeal vocal cords.

Which brings him to Plan B: The infamous Ouija board, favorite tool of grifters and bullshit paranormalists everywhere.

And yet despite the makeshift, very high-budget seance he conducts with the two dollar board and the zero dollar candles he’s lovingly stolen from his brother, there’s once again no reply from beyond the veil besides a chill in the room that somehow radiates disapproval. Apparently his ghost isn’t a fan of pseudoscientific games any more than he is. At least they had standards, whoever they were.

But Remus is a stubborn bastard if he does say so himself, so on to Plan C it is. The used EMF meter he snags off of ebay has definitely seen better days, given the prominent crack across its screen, but the thing had been cheap and still seemed to work, so Remus wasn’t complaining.  Fancy equipment was for fancy people, after all, and of all the things he’s ever been called, he’s positive fancy isn’t one of them. He sets up the device behind the tv, which still seems to intrigue his ghost every time it’s turned on, puts on the first show he can find, and forces himself to walk away. His little trap is set. Now all he has to do is bide his time pretending to busy himself unpacking a box of books in the next room—

He barely has the chance to register the tv screen flickering out of the corner of his eye before an ear-splitting shriek is rending the air, startling him so violently that he promptly drops a hefty tome on his foot.

“Shit,” he breathes, surging back into the living room, but the noise has already stopped just as suddenly as it began, replaced by a frigid chill permeating the room. Maybe he should have thought twice about scaring the resident phantom without first hiding any of his valuables. Hopefully he won’t wake up tomorrow to find his tv shattered. “It won’t hurt you,” he calls, though the EMF meter indicates a distinct lack of any supernatural presences. “It just makes noise to let me know when you’re nearby, yeah? Totally harmless.”

No response, but for once he doesn’t mind, not when there’s excitement dancing white-hot across his nerves. There really is a ghost or spirit or demon or something here, and he hasn’t just been imagining things.

Fuck, this house is single-handedly the coolest thing that’s ever happened to him, even if he does now have to worry about his haunting buddy getting a bit of revenge on him in the middle of the night.

But Remus survives safe and sound into the next day without so much as a supernatural scratch on his skin. Bloody payback didn’t seem like his ghost’s style anyways, not when their favorite activity seemed to be pressing as many buttons as possible on the tv remote at once. Curiosity is still nipping impatiently at his heels though, urging him to explore this latest avenue of potential communication more, so he sets up the EMF meter again, this time in the master bedroom where the spirit seems most inclined to spend time if the continued pacing in the middle of the night is anything to go by.

A brilliant plan, only minorly ruined by the fact that the device is nowhere to be found when he goes searching for it the next morning.

“Are you disappearing things, ghostie?” he asks the empty bedroom. “Gonna zap me into another dimension next?”

 He’s joking, but as his hunt through the house reveals neither hide nor hair of the EMF meter, he can’t help but wonder. Had the ghost really just yeeted the thing into the ether? Or maybe it was right where he’d left it in the middle of the bedroom, but had been turned invisible like the spirit themself? What kind of ghostly superpowers did he even have, if any—

He comes to an abrupt halt as he emerges out the back door onto the porch, a laugh spilling past his lips as he surveys the myriad bits of metal and broken plastic strewn around him. Looks like he’s found his EMF meter. Apparently his ghost wasn’t nearly as endeared to this technology as he was anything with a screen. He glances up to the master bedroom window over his head, shading his eyes from the sun.

“Fair enough,” he calls, still fighting down amusement despite himself, and there’s the faintest shimmer in the air above the balcony, reminiscent of a heat mirage despite the cool morning air. “No more screeching little boxes.”

Left with zero information about his ghost’s identity, a useless Ouija board better repurposed as a doorstop, and the remains of his one piece of official ghost-hunting equipment, Remus concludes his only option is to embark on Plan D. Said plan isn’t so much an strategic approach as it is a wild hail mary to find any way to communicate with his ghost that didn’t involved hurling objects from balconies, as much fun as such an activity was, but then again, Plan D did sound delightfully dirty, so he’ll take the trade-off.

The internet, of course, is the place to turn to for highly questionable ghost advice, and it only takes a single google search to find message boards teeming with it. Half of it is clearly bullshit, he quickly discovers as he trawls through post after useless post, and the other half is baseless theories without any semblance of evidence to back them up, but just as he’s about to call it quits and move on to whatever the hell Plan E is, an old thread catches his eye.

‘Old Ghost Caught By Photography?’ the title reads, and Remus skims through the post, intrigued despite himself at the detailed claims the author had been able to capture the image of a Victorian spirit by using an antique camera and photography methods from the end of the nineteenth century. He pores over the attached images, searching for the slightest hint of photoshop or manipulation, but everything seems legit. And it made sense in some weird, probably illogical way, he supposes, that ghosts might only be spotted by using technology from their day and age—historical continuity in the metaphysical realm or some shit.

It’s the best lead he has after hours of searching, and really, he’s just spent a very hefty chunk of change buying a whole-ass house; what was the harm in dropping a few more dollars on some vintage photography equipment?

Which is precisely how he finds himself crammed into his makeshift darkroom in the tiny closet under the stairs several weeks later, holding his breath as he carefully begins to look through the latest batch of negatives he’s just finished processing. It had taken an obscene amount of research, a healthy dose of trial-and-error, and more than a few failures to figure out the intricacies of the dry plate photography process, but he’d gotten there in the end, even if the most he has to show for it is a few suspicious blurs in a couple of images.

Maybe this whole idea of capturing ghosts in photos was just as bullshit as the others, he muses as he examines yet another empty picture of the dining room, or maybe his ghost wasn’t from the same era as the camera he’d bought. Maybe his ghost simply didn’t want to have his photo taken, or maybe—

His train of thought abruptly derails as he picks up the next plate.

Holy shit. Holy shit.

The image is still a negative, the reversed colors lending a certain eeriness to the picture under the red darkroom lights, but there, right smack in the middle of the photo—a figure. An actual human figure, clear as day, looking right at the camera. Remus whoops, nearly knocking over a vial of chemicals with his elbow as he dances backwards in pure giddiness. Oh fuck yes , there is a ghost haunting the place. His ghost, now that he owns the house. His ghost who is…

He pauses, forcing himself to focus on the figure in the photo even as he feels like he’s about to vibrate right off of his bones with excitement. Spectacles, clean-shaven, dark hair neatly styled. Neat trousers, white shirt, trim waistcoat, and a decidedly fancy ascot, the whole ensemble distinctly old-fashioned. Victorian, then? Or Edwardian? Or some historical reenactor who’d met an untimely demise in costume? And it does seem to be an untimely demise; the man looks to be in his mid- to late-twenties, unless he’d found some ability to look whatever age he wanted in the afterlife.

Regardless, he can’t make himself focus on fashion for long. He has a ghost to talk to. Fighting his way out of the cramped closet, he bounds up the stairs, forcing himself to slow to a respectable jog as he darts into the master bedroom. He stops in the middle of the still-bare room, trying and utterly failing to keep his hopes in check.

“Hello? Ghostie?”

No response.

“Mr. Glasses and White Shirt?” 

His skin prickles, the hair on the back of his neck raising. Aha. There he was. 

“Hey, what’s up?” He turns in a slow circle, searching for any sign of his specter, any flicker of light off a spectacle lens or a flash of a shirtsleeve, but the room is as empty as ever.

“I have a photo if you’d like to see it.” Could ghosts not see themselves in mirrors or was that only vampire lore? And if he couldn’t see his own reflection, did the ghost even remember what he looked like?

He raises the picture, proferring the negative to the vacant room, and holds his breath. Nothing, for several long moments, and then the chill edges closer. Remus bites his lip, barely able to keep himself from bouncing on the balls of his feet at the prospect of a ghost being within arm’s reach.

“I wasn’t trying to be creepy or anything, I just wanted to see if you were real or if I needed to go check myself into a padded room, you know? I’m Remus, if I haven’t said that. What’s your name?”

Several more excruciatingly long moments that Remus is sure has to be the longest span of silence in history, then—

“Hello.”

The voice is thin and slightly hoarse, quiet enough that Remus has to strain to make it out, but it’s as unmistakably real as the form that flickers into existence right in front of his eyes, identical to the man in the photo. He’s distinctly transparent, the edges of him not quite defined, fuzzing out around the edges like the ambient glow of neon signs, but he’s here and he’s real and this is so fucking cool that Remus could keel over right here and now from excitement and join the ghost in wandering around the house for all eternity.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, because if there was ever a time for swearing, by god this is fucking it, and the spirit withdraws slightly, already guarded expression closing in further. “No no no, it’s good,” he rushes to assure him, resisting the urge to reach out and try to touch him. “Good holy shit. Complimentary holy shit.”

The ghost doesn’t seem entirely appeased, but he tilts his head slightly, something like curiosity sparking in his eyes as he evaluates Remus.

“Why are you not frightened of me?” he finally asks, and Remus has to fight back the absurd laugh bubbling up in his chest. He’s being questioned by a century-old ghost in the middle of his haunted home. Life really was delightfully freaky.

“No offense, man, but you’re not exactly terrifying. I mean, I’ve been here what? A solid month? And you haven’t even tried to pluck my eyeballs out or anything.”

Another unreadable pause. Is he just giving the spirit ideas? Were his eyes about to be forcibly unmarried from his skull à la eagles tearing out Prometheus’ liver?

“Do you want me to be afraid of you?” he asks after a further absolutely unbearable five seconds of silence.

“No,” the ghost admits after a moment of clear hesitation, “but previous residents certainly have not appreciated my presence here.”

Remus scoffs. “That’s their problem. Some of us are smarter than that.”

The other man’s head tilt deepens, something akin to puzzlement furrowing his brow, as if he can’t fathom why having a ghost is actually the most badass shit on the face of the planet.

“Can I ask you some questions?” Remus asks, exhilaration still racing along the underside of his skin so intensely that he can barely stand it. “You can ask me whatever you want, too.”

The ghost nods, although he still seems cautious as one hand fiddles absently with his ascot. “I suppose that would be alright.”

Twenty questions with an undead spirit. Remus’ life really was getting better by the minute.

“Did you used to live here?”

“I did, many years ago.”

“Did you own the place?”

“At one point in time, yes. It was truly a beautiful house in its day, and a wonderful place to reside.”

Oh fuck yes. If having an old-timey ghost who can give him historically accurate advice about restoring the house isn’t the coolest fucking thing that’s ever happened to him, he isn’t sure what is. He has half a mind to start grilling him on paint colors and wallpaper prints and the original hardwood, but—

“Did you die here?”

The words are blurting out of his mouth without even bothering to detour through his brain on the way out, burning curiosity eclipsing any thought that perhaps asking about death isn’t exactly acceptable ghost etiquette. He barely has time to register the change in the spirit’s expression, the visceral upset written across his features clear as day, before he’s gone in between one breath and the next, vanishing back into whatever thin air he’d come from and leaving nothing but a biting chill in his wake.

Shit shit shit. He’s finally gotten the ghost to trust him enough to show up and talk and then he’s gone and ruined it within the span of two minutes all because he had all the self-control of a sieve trying to retain water.

“Wait,” he calls, casting about in vain. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” Well, apparently his subconscious had, but that hadn’t been his intention. “Please come back. You can ask me as many invasive questions as you like.” Nothing. “You can haunt me for revenge, if you want.” Utter silence. “Are you gonna hurl me off the balcony like my EMF meter?”

There he goes again, giving the specter ideas, although really, being yeeted out of a window by a ghost would be a damn cool end if he does say so himself. He lingers in the room for several long minutes, forcing himself to keep quiet lest he miss the spirit’s hushed voice, but there’s nothing but the faint sound of a bird twittering outside.

“Alright,” he finally relents, disappointment pooling in his stomach as he glances down at the photography plate still in his hand, the negative serving as indisputable evidence that the encounter hadn’t just been a fever dream. He’ll find a way to make things right with the ghost somehow, one way or another. He has to. “Just come spook me if you change your mind.”

-

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!): @darth-does-stuff

[lea-heartscxiv]

SK8 ~Golden Week: Showing Spain. The museum of Plants~ - (May 2nd in Spain)

Ainosuke as promised day they celebrated his birthday (Sunday in Spain, during afternoon where in Japan it was May 1st) is showing a bit of Spain to everyone in Golden Week, and this was day 2.

You can read it below cut line or on our Blogger where you can see extras of Day 2. (From me and @van-yangyin)

Blogger: English | Español

You can read below cut line ↓

Everything written at the end with this * symbol, is Spanish conversation. Everything written at the end with this ** symbol, is English conversation.

Monday, May 2nd in Spain. After Ainosuke's video call with his "beloved" aunts, Tadashi came to see him.

Tadashi: Ainosuke-sama, everything is ready for today.

Ainosuke: Good, now we just have to wait until it's time. Tadashi, bring me my skateboard.

Tadashi: Of course. The area is clear, there is no one suspicious.

When time came, Tadashi gathered everyone at entrance and they waited for rental car that took them to the foot of a mountain at entrance of a village. And from there they walked to the last building in the village which luckily was a small town. Although it was something it didn't stop the complaints, especially because on the grass they couldn't go with their skateboards.

The entrance looked like a magical place, but it was more magical when they entered as they were greeted by a male voice. Although they didn't see anyone, that male voice came from an AI.

IA: Welcome gentlemen, here you will be able to see native and non-native plants. The owner's recommendation is that you stay until the evening or come during the night another day, because if it seems magical to you now, the special place would be even more so.

Kaoru: Wonderful.

Kojiro: The lighting in this enclosure makes the view spectacular.

Hiromi: Plants and flowers native to this country! They look so beautiful and so well cared for!

Ainosuke walked into the side of the museum and saw a structure full of plants, the male AI started to tell him about those particular plants and where to find them.

Everyone was amazed, with that museum.... Everyone except Miya, who seemed to be bored with the place every now and then and went outside.

Later, though, he finally returned and they continued to look through entire museum until the end.

While Reki and Langa were tired from all the walking, they wished they could have used their skateboards all day long.

As they were finishing their visit, Ainosuke told them that they would leave through the back, since there special vehicles for mountains were waiting for them. And so it was that these vehicles took them to the entrance of a forest where a woman, Magdalena Villa, Albert Villa's wife and one of the owners of the plant museum, was waiting for them.

She introduced herself and explained to them that her husband was the creator of the AI she had spoken to them about earlier. Magdalena told them that she herself would be their guide until they reached the house where they both lived, as it was a place somewhat hidden from the eyes of the townspeople. She and her husband were people not wanted by the other inhabitants there, although she told them that her husband would explain to them in more detail why they lived where they lived if he wants.

When they arrived at marriage house, it began to rain.

Reki: And now it's starting to rain? ADAM said that this was more typical of April...

Luckily they were close to the house and they could all go inside, where Faithful the family dog was waiting for them, Miya couldn't resist and petted him and they became very good friends.

Miya: What's his name, he's so cute!

Magdalena: What is he saying?*

Ainosuke: He's asking you what's his name?*

Magdalena: His-name-is-Faithful.*

Miya: Faithful, you're such a cute little dog!

Faithful: Woof!

Reki: Hey! There are more kinds of flowers here. Are they medicinal?

Ainosuke: He asks if those flowers are medicinal.*

Magdalena: Just not those, they're just decorative. But I can show you some we have in the back of the house that we're letting dry so we can use them in food dishes and herbal teas.*

Magdalena went to see her little Belen, their daughter. And Albert was outside with the animals.

Magdalena: I'm sorry, Albert is not very sociable with people.*

Ainosuke: I think I understand him.*

Magdalena: Oh how silly of me, forgive me. I haven't offered you anything, now I'll prepare you something made with products from our house. Although I have a doubt, I talk and talk but I don't know if you all understand me.*

Ainosuke: Don't worry, I'll translate for you.*

Magdalena: Thank you, honey.*

Albert then entered the house.

Albert: Good afternoon. I bring you a cheese made recently so you can taste it and take it home.**

They greeted Albert back, although Albert doesn't answer them back.

Kaoru: Cheese? Again?

Albert: This cheese is suitable for all people who aren't soy intolerant, it's made from tofu.**

Ainosuke: Cherry, this cheese isn't made from milk.

Kaoru: I know, I understand English perfectly...! But the presentation isn't much different...

Kojiro: It's like cheese you eat at home.

Kaoru: Are you sure, you don't want to see me intoxicated again?

Kojiro: Kaoru, if you don't believe me, there's a toilet nearby anyway. You can always use it.

Kaoru: Kojiro!!!

And so they spent a long time chatting and tasting foods that the family was showing them.

When it was late enough and they had to return to the vacation home Faithful family's little dog became sad.

Miya: See you soon Faithful. Take care of yourself, okay?

Faithful: Woof!

Kojiro: See you soon, buddy.

Faithful: Wow!

And they left one by one.

Ainosuke: Tomorrow we won't move from the place! They will come to visit us and... Langa-kun, I'll show you two more gastronomic wonders.

~End of day 2 of Golden Week~

[theneighborhoodchronicles-blog]

Family room

Middle section

Eat-in kitchen

WIP

With children slowly moving out to go to university and they themselves slowly moving up the career path, Charles and Kadija have more time to spend at home.

While the kids were still at home, the middle section of their open plan main floor was filled with desks. But the kitchen and the living room part, they had started working on almost right at the beginning.

They are aware, that this floor still need quite a bit of decorativ work, but so far, they are quite happy with the way it's developing. The strong colours reflect very nicely Kadija's origins.

And with their home getting quieter, Charles had the wish, to get a pet, which I granted. So, they got Fussel, a female cat, from the animal shelter (I'm slowly moving all stray pets there).

Fussel

[mondo-handmade-withlove]

Brăduț decorativ din materiale reciclabile!

Materiale necesare:

bețe curățate (din copaci uscați) de dimensiuni diferite pentru a forma coroana bradului;

crenguțe (din copaci uscați) pentru brăduții decorativi;

bețe de înghețată pentru steluțe;

conuri de brad;

ață colorată pentru brăduții decorativi și pentru fiecare decorațiune (pentru a se putea agăța în brad);

ambalajul care acoperă ciocolata la cutie pentru a face diferite forme (eu am făcut inimioare);

carton reciclabil (cutia de ciocolată), pentru steaua din vârf (eu am folosit mărgeluțe pentru decor);

funie pentru prinsul bețelor;

opțional: luminițe;

acuarelă;

sclipici lichid;

pentru mini-fundițe;

perforator;

lipici/silicon;

scotch.

Put a smile on someone's face! ★ Good luck, you can do it! ♡

[royalwoodpack]

The Art of Crafting Durable Wooden Boxes: Royal Wood Pack’s Commitment to Quality and Sustainability

At Royal Wood Pack, we specialize in manufacturing high-quality wooden boxes manufacturer designed to meet the needs of various industries. Whether you're looking for packaging solutions for your products, shipping containers for export, or storage boxes for personal or commercial use, we are your trusted partner in delivering durable, eco-friendly, and reliable wooden boxes.

Why Choose Royal Wood Pack for Your Wooden Box Solutions?

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2. High-Quality Materials

We believe that the foundation of any great wooden box is the quality of the material used. At Royal Wood Pack, we source the finest quality wood, ensuring that every box is both sturdy and environmentally responsible. We offer a variety of wood types including pine, plywood, and hardwood, depending on your requirements. Each wooden box is made to withstand the rigors of transportation and storage.

3. Customizable Solutions

No two projects are the same, and at Royal Wood Pack, we understand the importance of customization. We offer tailor-made wooden box solutions to fit your unique needs, whether it’s adjusting the size, adding custom compartments, or designing special features such as reinforced corners or branding options. Our team works closely with you to ensure that your wooden boxes meet both your functional and aesthetic needs.

4. Eco-Friendly Manufacturing Practices

Sustainability is at the heart of everything we do. As a responsible manufacturer, we are committed to using sustainable materials and practices. Our wooden boxes are made from responsibly sourced wood, and we follow eco-friendly processes to minimize waste and environmental impact. By choosing Royal Wood Pack, you're not only getting a high-quality product but also supporting environmentally conscious practices.

5. Strong Focus on Safety and Durability

Durability is key when it comes to wooden boxes, especially when they are used for shipping and storage. We ensure that each box is crafted to be robust, with attention paid to detail in every step of the manufacturing process. Whether you're transporting sensitive electronics or heavy equipment, our wooden boxes are built to safeguard your goods.

6. Fast and Reliable Service

At Royal Wood Pack, we pride ourselves on our ability to deliver high-quality wooden boxes on time. We understand the importance of efficiency in business, and we work hard to ensure that our clients receive their orders when they need them. Our team is dedicated to providing fast, reliable service while maintaining the highest standards of craftsmanship.

Types of Wooden Boxes We Manufacture

1. Custom Shipping Boxes Our wooden shipping boxes are designed to protect your goods during international or domestic transportation. From delicate electronics to machinery, these boxes are crafted to handle the challenges of long-distance shipping.

2. Storage Boxes Whether for residential or commercial use, our storage boxes help keep your items safe and organized. They are perfect for storing anything from household items to industrial equipment.

3. Export Boxes For businesses engaged in global trade, our export wooden boxes meet international shipping standards, ensuring that your goods reach their destination safely and securely.

4. Heavy-Duty Wooden Crates Our heavy-duty wooden crates are designed to transport large, heavy, or fragile items. With reinforced structures and added support, these crates provide maximum protection for your products.

5. Decorative Wooden Boxes In addition to functional storage and shipping boxes, we also offer beautifully crafted decorative wooden boxes. These boxes can be customized with finishes, logos, and designs to suit your brand and aesthetic.

Conclusion: Discover the Perfect Wooden Box Solution with Royal Wood Pack

At Royal Wood Pack, we are committed to providing high-quality, customizable, and eco-friendly wooden box solutions that meet the diverse needs of our clients. Whether you’re looking for durable shipping boxes, secure storage solutions, or decorative packaging, we have the expertise and experience to deliver the best products for your business.

Explore our range of wooden boxes today and discover how we can help your business with reliable packaging solutions. Contact us for a consultation or to place an order, and let us help you protect your products with the best wooden boxes available.

This blog post highlights the strengths and services of Royal Wood Pack in wooden box manufacturing, while also emphasizing customization and eco-friendliness. It is designed to resonate with businesses seeking high-quality packaging solutions.

[corpurideiluminatdecorativ7]

Cum să folosești corect un iluminat decorativ pentru a crea o atmosferă primitoare

În decorarea unei încăperi , luminile ornamentale joacă un aspect important în crearea unei atmosfere care să aducă un farmec special. Alegând luminile decorative optime, se poate modifica percepția asupra spațiului . Într-un birou unde se dorește o stare de confort, lumina ambientală poate aduce o notă de căldură , completând armonios mobilierul . Modelele deosebite de lumini decorative includ de la aplice de perete cu design contemporan , până la leduri discrete care pun accent pe texturile naturale ale camerei .

Cum să integrezi o lustra ceramica în designul interior al casei tale

Coridoarele de trecere pot părea monotone , dar cu corpurile de iluminat potrivite , ele pot deveni adevărate piese de decor. Alegerea unor aplice de perete discrete poate mări vizual încăperea . De exemplu, o lampă cu design minimalist amplasată pe peretele lateral poate evidenția arhitectura spațiului, oferind în același timp un flux de lumină constant . Luminile LED integrate adaugă un stil contemporan care se potrivește cu decorurile simple . În plus, utilizarea spoturilor direcționale permite modificarea atmosferei în funcție de ocazii .

Sfaturi pentru alegerea celor mai potrivite corpuri de iluminat decorativ în spațiul tău de locuit

Trucuri pentru a adăuga farmec cu o lustra bucatarie vintage în locuința ta

Alegerea adecvată a corpurilor de iluminat decorativ poate schimba orice spațiu într-un colț de relaxare cu farmec . Luminile decorative nu doar că asigură o ambianță primitoare, ci și accentuează stilul camerei , adăugând o tentă de rafinament . Într-un salon actual, un obiect de iluminat artistic cu un design futurist poate deveni un punct focal , în timp ce într-o locuință rustică , o lampă din ceramică pictată manual poate adăuga o patină de timp.

Inspirație pentru interioare unice cu lustre handmade realizate manual

Pentru un decor inovator, luminile cu forme neobișnuite aduc o atingere unică . Aceste obiecte de artă sunt create pentru a impresiona . De la lămpi cu structuri abstracte , fiecare lumină de design adaugă un punct focal în livinguri spațioase . Materialele inovatoare precum rășina transparentă contribuie la jocuri de lumini și umbre . Aceste lămpi de design sunt perfecte pentru spațiile inovative, aducând o stare de admirație în fiecare încăpere.

Casele de țară se remarcă printr-o atmosferă autentică , iar corpurile de iluminat artizanale sunt elemente esențiale pentru a aduce un plus de autenticitate . Aceste obiecte unice sunt realizate cu măiestrie , fiecare având un stil propriu . O lampă de tavan din lemn masiv poate adăuga o notă tradițională într-o bucătărie rustică . În locuințele de inspirație rurală, aceste lumini unicat aduc o ambiantă relaxantă , reflectând frumusețea materialelor naturale precum ceramica. Alegerea unor corpuri de iluminat personalizate contribuie la păstrarea tradițiilor .

Pentru cei care apreciază culorile vibrante , lămpile de inspirație mixtă sunt recomandarea potrivită pentru a personaliza spațiul interior . Aceste lumini neconvenționale îmbină influențe variate, de la modele retro , până la elemente artizanale . Fie că sunt realizate din metal patinat, aceste lustre eclectice adaugă o senzație de prospețime în orice locuință nonconformistă . O lumină boemă poate deveni un element de surpriză într-o dormitor artistic, aducând o ambiantă energică .

Lumina ambientală pentru camerele de copii trebuie să fie atât practic , cât și atractiv . Alegerea unor lustre colorate poate transforma camera într-un spațiu de vis . De exemplu, o lampă suspendată în culori pastelate poate aduce o ambiantă liniștitoare ideală pentru somn . În schimb, lumina reglabilă sunt perfecte pentru a ajusta lumina în funcție de activitățile zilnice . În plus, corpurile de iluminat cu tematică adaugă o atingere unică în camera copilului, stimulându-i creativitatea .

[semineuromania849]

Optati pentru cele mai bune seminee Suceava

Sobele pe lemne sunt indicate in cazul in care doriti sa aveti parte de o metoda de incalzire ecologica si eficienta, dar trebuie sa tineti cont in acest sens de faptul ca va fi necesar sa folositi resursele in cunostinta de cauta. Totodata o soba pe lemne este si foarte placuta, si puteti petrece langa ea momente de neuitat alaturi de persoanele dragi din viata dumneavoastra. Semineul este o structura realizata din caramida, piatra sau metal destinata, de obicei, incalzirii livingului. De-a lungul timpului, rolul semineelor s-a indepartat tot mai mult de aspectul practic pentru care au fost gandite initial, astfel ca designul lor a fost adaptat cerintelor pur decorative. Astazi, ele pot indeplini ambele roluri estetic si de incalzire, insa multi proprietari aleg semineul pentru atmosfera primitoare pe care o creeaza.

Incalzire optima cu termosemineu pellet

In ceea ce priveste epoca medievala, putem spune ca primul tip de semineu, era construit in afara locuintei, fiind mai mult utilizat pentru prepararea mancarii sau fierberea apei. Apoi odata cu inventarea costurilor de evacuare, instalarea acestor seminee a fost posibila si in orice camera din locuinta, iar utilizarea lor s-a marit destul de mult. In prezent aceste seminee sunt foarte apreciate atat pentru rolul estetic pe care il ofera, dar si pentru optiunea avantajoasa de incalzire a locuintei. Cu siguranta semineele ofera avantaje multiple in ceea ce priveste utilizarea, atat de ordin functional, cat si in ceea ce priveste estetica. In acest sens, despre un semineu, putem spune ca este cel care va schimba total modul in care arata o camera. Insa, va trebui sa tineti cont si de faptul ca aceste avantajele acestor seminee depind si de modelul pentru care vom opta in momentul achizitionarii. In alta ordine de idei, putem spune ca si semineele electrice foera avantaje multiple. In acest sens, putem spune ca aceste seminee nu vor necesita o intretinere speciala, iar montajul acestora se va realiza rapid si facil. Aceste tipuri de seminee nu sunt periculoase si nu scot fum sau alte mirosuri. Durata de viata este una mult mai mare, ca urmare a faptului ca nu consuma combustibil, ceea ce va reduce drastic coroziunea elementelor.

Eficienta in incalzire a unor seminee este recunoscuta

Multe persoane se intreaba cum aleg semineul potrivit, iar pentru a face o alegere optima in acest sens, este foarte important sa stabiliti de la inceput daca semineul va fi folosit pentru incalzire, sau va avea mai mult un rol decorativ. In aceste conditii, veti sti daca este necesar sa optati pentru un focar inchis sau pentru unul deschis, in functie de necesitatile pe care le aveti. Focarul semineului va avea dimensiunea potrivita pentru incaperea in care urmeaza sa fie amplasat. Dimensiunea, va fi stabilita direct proportional, pentru ca semineul sa furnizeze oricand o putere calorica optima. In acest sens, este de asemenea important sa tineti cont si de sfaturile unor persoane specializate pentru a lua cea mai potrivita decizie in ceea ce priveste selectia acestor seminee. Astfel, va fi mai usor sa luati deciziile optime si sa va bucurati de toate avantajele semineelor. In alta ordine de idei, despre semineele electrice putem spune ca pot avea un pret mai ridicat in functie de tehnologiile de care dispun. Utilizarea curentului electric pentru incalzire, poate fi de asemenea costisitoare, insa trebuie precizat si faptul ca aceasta varianta este una rapida si comoda pentru a incalzi o locuinta. In functie de cerintele avute, urmeaza sa luati decizia finala in vederea achizitionarii.

In functie de amenajarea camerei in care va fi amplasat, semineul poate fi construit pe unul dintre pereti sau intr-un colt. Locul potrivit trebuie ales, insa, nu doar in functie de suprafata incaperii, ci si tinand cont de elementele care vor compune semineul: focarul, ancadramentele, accesoriile de montaj (printre care cosul de evacuare). Materialele destinate constructiei unui semineu difera in functie de modelul acestuia, insa poti avea parte de calitate foarte buna, rezistenta, eficienta termica, design placut, oricare ar fi tipul de semineu pe care planuiesti sa il construiesti. Asa cum am precizat deja, alegerea semineului trebuie sa tina cont de suprafata incaperii, focarele potrivite fiind cele care asigura un volum suficient de mare incat sa poata fi incalzit intreg spatiul.

Avantajele unui semineu Romania

Constructia corecta a cosului de fum (cos de evacuare) este esentiala pentru siguranta casei. Parametrii acestuia, materialele folosite si normele de intretinere difera de la un model la altul, in functie de structura semineului si de tipul de combustibil utilizat. Instalarea cu succes a unui semineu este un procedeu complex si adesea, mai bine daca este posibil, trebuie sa fie incredintata unui profesionist. Acesta trebuie sa cunoasca standardele si reglementarile tehnice de siguranta, reglementarile locale in constructii si sa fie in masura sa evalueze corect calitatea, cantitatea si costul de materiale necesare pentru instalarea semineului. Unele dintre cele mai grave erori pe care le-am gasit in seminee montate la clientii nostri au fost realizate de catre constructori excelenti si de buna credinta, dar fara experienta in acest domeniu.

Termoseminee de calitate la preturi avantajoase

Trebuie sa stii, in primul rand, ca in prezent, semineele moderne se impart in mai multe tipuri. Ele pot fi incastrate in perete sau asezate pe podea si pot fi deschise sau inchise si accesibile prin intermediul unei usi. Desigur, fiecare are avantaje si dezavantaje, dar toate categoriile de seminee moderne au un consum redus datorita arderii complete a combustibilului. De asemenea, ele incalzesc foarte repede spatiul in care sunt montate. Temosemineele mai au un atuu, in schimb. Ele pot incalzi eficient multiple camere intr-o instalatie cu radiatoare. Asta inseamna ca poti utiliza termosemineul la fel ca o centrala termica pentru incalzirea intregii locuinte. Ce mai e interesant de mentionat este ca, fata de semineu, termosemineul poate functiona in regim autonom cu o eficienta de peste 90% chiar si pentru patru zile datorita rezervorului mare, pe lemne sau peleti. Asta inseamna ca nu trebuie sa te preocupi zilnic de functionarea acestuia si ca poti sta linistit o perioada, stiind ca locuinta ta este incalzita constant.

Podeaua trebuie sa fie capabila sa suporte greutatea semineului. Poate parea evident, dar nu uitati ca unele seminee pot fi extrem de grele, ca sa nu vorbim de greutatea unei instalatii compuse dintr-un focar din fonta imbracat complet in piatra sau caramida. Instalarea cosului de fum trebuie sa fie efectuata astfel incat sa se asigure etanseitatea elementelor cpmponente fiins astfel capabile sa reziste produselor generate de procesul de ardere si de condensare. Nu se foloseste niciodata aluminiu.Cele mai bune materiale sunt din otel inoxidabil sau tevi emailate de fier pentru sobe, otel inoxidabil si samota termoizolata pentru seminee. Conducta de fum trebuie sa fie usor inspectabila, pentru a fi curatata de funingine si depuneri, si pe tot parcursul de sectiune constanta.

[ohnoitstbskyen]

hiho kermit,

do you think that the random gun barrels on all the high noon skins is a really funny in-joke that the riot design team has?

I honestly have no idea. That'd be better than the alternative, which is that the nonsensical bullet chambers they put on everything are unconsidered aesthetic gesturing, a sign that they have no idea how to make something look "wild west" except to slap revolver chambers on it because "shooty shooty bang bang gun = cowboy, right?"

Like, not every detail on a design needs to be functional, decorativism is fine, but when you simply repeat a decorative motif over and over again regardless of context it stops being a meaningful decoration and starts being white noise, the default "we don't know what else to put here" move.

Of course, it's also possible that they slap revolver chambers on everything because they did a player survey and a lot of players said they loved the gun-chamber on Yasuo's sword, and because Riot is Data Driven™ and Player First™ the mandate is to give players exactly what they definitely asked for, so revolver chambers will be on everything until sales improve.

idk, it's not really a big deal, it's just a repetitive design motif that annoys me because I dislike it when "Wild West" aesthetics get flanderized down to revolvers and cowboy hats.