#high speed wire nail making machine | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jackreach674 · 2 years

Text

Achieving Precision And Strength With Cold Headed Wire

It has long been theorized that cold heading wire is a superior manufacturing method for achieving precise, strong parts. But can this theory be true? After all, isn’t precision and strength difficult to attain without the use of heat? It turns out, the answer is yes — cold heading wire does indeed provide both precision and strength when used in manufacturing processes. To explore further, let’s take a look at how manufacturers are using cold headed wire to achieve results they never thought possible.

Cold headed wire is an incredibly useful material in manufacturing due its combination of durability and malleability. Cold working techniques such as swaging or rolling allow manufacturers to shape steel into complex shapes with accuracy and consistency. This process enables them to produce high-quality products with consistent dimensions, tight tolerances, and outstanding strength characteristics.

For many industries, cold headed wires offer unique advantages over traditional hot forming methods because it eliminates problems like part distortion caused by excessive heat inputs during production. With cold heading technologies now available on the market today, more manufacturers than ever before are discovering just how much precision and strength can be achieved through cold formed parts. In this article we will discuss why so many companies have begun utilizing cold headed wires in their operations and what types of benefits they can expect from these materials.

## 1. Understanding Cold Heading Process

Cold heading is a manufacturing process like no other. It’s the equivalent of taking a bow and arrow, aiming at an invisible target, and nailing it bullseye every time! This precision-oriented method ensures parts are formed with accuracy and strength far beyond what traditional machining could achieve alone.

It begins with cold headed wire — metal that’s been heated until its malleable, then bent into shape using high speed punches or dies. The process can be used to fabricate bolts, screws, nuts, rivets and pins in many different sizes and shapes. In addition to being accurate and strong when finished, these components typically require less material than their traditionally milled counterparts.

The end result? High quality components that meet even the most stringent requirements for production assembly. All without wasting valuable resources or sacrificing performance. Cold heading is truly a winning combination for any manufacturer looking to increase efficiency while delivering consistent results on time after time!

## 2. Advantages Of Cold Headed Wires

Did you know that over 70% of fasteners used in the automotive industry are created through cold heading? This statistic alone should illustrate just how much of an impact this process can have when it comes to creating precision and strength with wire.

When compared to other methods, such as cutting or bending wires using heat, cold headed wires prove far more efficient. Cold heading allows for a wide range of shapes and sizes due to its ability to create complex geometries from one single piece of metal. Additionally, cold heading also reduces waste materials since no chips are generated during production. These savings make it cost-effective for manufacturers looking for reliable solutions at low costs.

On top of being time saving and economical, cold headed wires offer greater levels of durability and strength than any other method available today. The combination of high tensile strength and long-lasting performance makes them perfect for applications requiring continual use over extended periods — ideal for industries like medical device manufacturing where quality assurance is paramount.

## 3. Cold Heading Techniques For Maximum Strength And Precision

Achieving strength and precision with cold headed wire is like flying a jet plane — it requires the right techniques, an experienced hand, and expertise to get the most out of every flight. Cold heading is one such technique that can help you reach your destination quickly and safely.

The process itself involves using mechanical force or pressure to shape metal into specific configurations in order to create components with tight tolerances. This method has several advantages over traditional manufacturing processes: It’s more cost-effective because it eliminates wasted material; it produces parts faster; and its results are highly consistent and repeatable. Additionally, cold heading provides greater accuracy than machining because heat isn’t generated during the operation, which could potentially distort the final product.

Cold heading also enables manufacturers to use thinner pieces of metal while still producing strong finished products. By applying high levels of pressure to thin pieces of stock, they’re able to form complex shapes without compromising strength or dimensional accuracy. When done correctly, this process creates precise parts that have unbeatable tensile strength compared to similar machined items. So for anyone looking for superior quality components with maximum precision — cold headed wires may be just what you need!

## 4. Troubleshooting Common Issues With Cold Headed Wires

Cold heading wires can be incredibly useful in a variety of applications, allowing for precision and strength with minimal effort. But like any process, it’s not without its hiccups. Learning to troubleshoot common issues that may arise when cold heading wires is an important step towards achieving the desired result.

Take automotive manufacturing as an example. Cold headed wire parts are used in thousands of components from crankshafts to brake kits — each needing precise measurements and superior strength to ensure safety on the road. If something goes wrong during production, there could potentially be serious consequences down the line. That’s why understanding how to identify and fix common problems is so crucial for getting reliable results every time.

For instance, inaccurate lengths or diameters often occur due to operator error or machine malfunctioning. To prevent this from happening, operators should double-check their math before running a program cycle as well as regularly maintain the machinery itself by cleaning out dust particles and lubrication points within the system itself. Additionally, if head breakage occurs due to excessive force being applied while forming parts, then using alternative tooling or working at lower speeds might help reduce such risks.

By recognizing potential pitfalls ahead of time and taking proactive steps to address them, manufacturers can guarantee optimal performance each time they use cold headed wire products for their projects — no matter how complex those projects may be.

## Conclusion

At the end of the day, cold heading wire is a great way to achieve precision and strength in your projects. This process offers many advantages that make it an ideal choice for any machinist or engineer looking for accuracy and reliability. Cold heading techniques are used to maximize strength and precision while minimizing wasted material or time. Of course, troubleshooting common issues can be frustrating but with some patience and expertise you’ll find solutions that work best for you.

In conclusion, I’m amazed at how versatile this technique has become over the years. It’s one of those processes where you reap what you sow — if done correctly with quality materials, there’s no doubt that you will get results beyond expectation! With its ability to produce fine details on small parts with maximum accuracy and strength, cold headed wires continue to be an indispensable tool for modern engineers and craftspeople alike.

Systematic Wires Pvt. Ltd.

Sy.№202–204,206–210, Village Dheku,

Khalapur Road, Khopoli, Dist Raigad,

Maharashtra 410203

Phone number:- +91 9820190081

Email Address:- [email protected]

Website:- https://sysconwires.com/

0 notes

emidioschiavone · 2 years

Text

Holiday Fright

This is it. Walk up the path on the opposite side. It's Goldfish Villa.expression at all. He always had a sullen face and didn't know who to show it to." Yu Guang smiled: "What do you care how many others do?"? How can you be so gossipy? Ego put his head together and said, "Sister-in-law, maybe this guy is just lovelorn. That's why he has such a virtue." "Go!" Weng Beibei kicked Igor on the shin: "Who is your sister-in-law?"? I would have divorced this bastard long ago! Ego's teeth flashed to one side, and out of the corner of his eye there was a wry,High Speed Nail Making Machine, helpless smile on his face. The mountain was so high that I couldn't see where the top of the mountain was. A gust of wind was blowing, and the pine trees on the roadside kept shaking and screaming. The sky on the horizon was a little dark. Weng Beibei looked at her watch. It turned out that the car had been on the road all day, and now it was close to night. Strangely, she had been in the car all day without eating anything, and no one felt hungry. Stepping on the cold stone slab, a chill gradually spread from the foot board, Igor can not help but shiver,Nail machine manufacturer, look at the side of Yu Guang and Weng Beibei is not much better, the body kept trembling. The people around him were not much better, especially the fat woman named Xue Wei, who kept breathing heavily and cursing the long mountain road loudly. Only Lao Liu walked in the front, holding a bright flashlight in his hand, encouraging everyone to move forward. Wang Xiaose and Wang Xiaomiao, the beautiful twin girls, jumped up and down behind Lao Liu, full of spirit. Finally, after climbing the long stairs, fourteen of them saw a hotel-like villa standing in front of them. It was dark, Coil nail machine ,Nail Making Machine manufacturers, and because of the dim moonlight, it was not clear what shape the villa was, but there seemed to be something on the outer wall that was swaying slowly with the breeze. Because she did not know what was swaying, Weng Beibei's heart was hairy, and her back seemed to be crawling with thousands of invisible insects. She couldn't help trembling all over, and a trace of cold sweat oozed from her forehead. Suddenly, in front of the lights, the villa inside and outside suddenly a bright lights. Only then did Weng Beibei discover that the villa was originally a Gothic building, and that there were several similar villas around it, but they were all hidden in the deep and unreachable night. The tiny things swaying with the wind on the outer wall turned out to be ivy covering the whole wall, and the dark green leaves were flying one by one, like spirits flying in the dark night. Weng Beibei couldn't help laughing, but suddenly a question came to her mind: "Eh?!"! Who turned on the light? We're all outside the villa! She looked up. The door of the villa creaked. The brass door slowly opened. A thin and short shadow stood under the arched door. A gloomy and old voice came slowly: "Welcome to Goldfish Villa.". ” Who is this man? Before Weng Beibei could ask, suddenly a faint white light flashed across the distant horizon, probably lightning? that, he bent over and left here with his crutches in his old age. I do not know why, looking at the figure of Wang Laosan gradually away, Weng Beibei's heart is like being pricked by a needle, very sad. Entering the door, Lin Feng's daughter Kou Kou, who was holding a dirty doll, rushed in first. The hall of the house was luxuriously decorated with white marble on the floor,wire nail machine manufacturers, pale yellow wall paint on the walls, and sometimes a few Western paintings in the style of the seventeenth century. There is a revolving wooden staircase on each side of the hall to the second floor. The second floor is the guest room, a long and narrow corridor on both sides of a standard suite. 3shardware.com

1 note · View note

nahasnz · 2 years

Text

Just crack an egg instructions

Then add the rest and run the machine for a few more seconds, until the ingredients are all broken up into pieces smaller than your pinky nail. Add any large nuts (like almonds or pecans) first and blitz for a few seconds. Now we’ll blitz the mix-ins briefly in the food processor or blender (or, you can chop them by hand).Add the cinnamon and salt, and stir to combine. Place the oats in a large mixing bowl**.The parchment paper will make it easy for you to slice the bars later. Line a 9-inch square baker with two strips of criss-crossed parchment paper, cut to fit neatly against the base and up the sides.Layer Cake: If you want to make a 2 layer cake, divide batter between 2 greased 9-inch cake pans, and bake at 350☏ for 26-30 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.Bundt Cake: You can bake this batter in a 10-12 cup bundt pan, but I find it’s not quite as moist when baked in the bundt shape.For about 2 dozen cupcakes, fill the cupcake liners halfway and bake for about 20-22 minutes. Cupcakes: I’ve gotten a few questions about turning this cake into cupcakes.The homemade “buttermilk” will be somewhat curdled and ready to use in the recipe. (In a pinch, lower fat or nondairy milks work for this soured milk, but the cake won’t taste as moist or rich.) Stir it around and let sit for 5 minutes. Then add enough room temperature whole milk to the same measuring cup until it reaches 1 and 1/2 cups. Add 1 Tablespoon of white vinegar or lemon juice to a liquid measuring cup. You can make your own DIY version of buttermilk if needed. Buttermilk: Buttermilk is required for this recipe.Thaw overnight in the refrigerator, bring to room temperature or serve cold. Frosted cake freezes well, up to 3 months. Bring to room temperature, make the frosting, frost, and serve. Cover the cake tightly and refrigerate for up to 2 days or freeze up to 3 months. Make Ahead Instructions: Prepare cake through step 5.Cover leftover cake tightly and store in the refrigerator for 5 days.This helps sets the frosting and makes cutting easier. Refrigerate for 30 minutes before serving. If you want the frosting a little thicker, add the extra 1/4 cup of confectioners sugar (I add it). Beat on low speed for 30 seconds, then switch to high speed and beat for 2 minutes. Add 3 cups confectioners’ sugar, vanilla, and salt. Make the frosting: In a large bowl using a handheld or stand mixer fitted with a paddle or whisk attachment, beat the cream cheese and butter together on high speed until smooth and creamy.After about 45 minutes, I usually place it in the refrigerator to speed things up. Remove the cake from the oven and set on a wire rack. Allow to cool completely.If you find the top of the cake is browning too quickly in the oven, loosely cover it with aluminum foil. The cake is done when a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Baking times vary, so keep an eye on yours. The batter will be slightly thick and a few lumps is OK. With the mixer on low speed, add the dry ingredients in three additions alternating with the buttermilk and mixing each addition just until incorporated. Scrape down the sides and up the bottom of the bowl as needed. Beat on medium-high speed until combined, then beat in the mashed bananas. Add both sugars and beat on high speed for 2 minutes until creamed together. Scrape down the sides and up the bottom of the bowl with a rubber spatula as needed. Add the eggs and the vanilla. Using a handheld or stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, beat the butter on high speed until smooth and creamy – about 1 minute.Whisk the flour, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, and salt together.I usually just use my mixer for this! Set mashed bananas aside. Preheat the oven to 350☏ (177☌) and grease a 9×13 inch pan.Garnish with green onions and sesame seeds. Top with marinated watermelon, cucumber, radishes, edamame and avocados. To serve: Divide rice among four bowls.If desired, make a sauce by stirring 2 tablespoons of the leftover marinade into mayonnaise. Using a slotted spoon, remove watermelon from marinade.Slowly pour in vegetable oil, whisking until emulsified. In a medium bowl, whisk together lime zest and juice, soy sauce, rice vinegar, ginger and honey.4 cups hot cooked short-grain white rice.½ cup vegan or regular mayonnaise (optional).6 cups watermelon, cut into 1/2- to 3/4-inch cubes.

#Just crack an egg instructions

0 notes

mailnahas · 2 years

Text

Just crack an egg cup

Top with ½ cup honey and the vanilla extract. In a 2-cup liquid measuring cup, measure out the nut butter.Then add the rest and run the machine for a few more seconds, until the ingredients are all broken up into pieces smaller than your pinky nail. Add any large nuts (like almonds or pecans) first and blitz for a few seconds. Now we’ll blitz the mix-ins briefly in the food processor or blender (or, you can chop them by hand).Add the cinnamon and salt, and stir to combine. Place the oats in a large mixing bowl**.The parchment paper will make it easy for you to slice the bars later. Line a 9-inch square baker with two strips of criss-crossed parchment paper, cut to fit neatly against the base and up the sides.Layer Cake: If you want to make a 2 layer cake, divide batter between 2 greased 9-inch cake pans, and bake at 350☏ for 26-30 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.Bundt Cake: You can bake this batter in a 10-12 cup bundt pan, but I find it’s not quite as moist when baked in the bundt shape.For about 2 dozen cupcakes, fill the cupcake liners halfway and bake for about 20-22 minutes. Cupcakes: I’ve gotten a few questions about turning this cake into cupcakes.The homemade “buttermilk” will be somewhat curdled and ready to use in the recipe. (In a pinch, lower fat or nondairy milks work for this soured milk, but the cake won’t taste as moist or rich.) Stir it around and let sit for 5 minutes. Then add enough room temperature whole milk to the same measuring cup until it reaches 1 and 1/2 cups. Add 1 Tablespoon of white vinegar or lemon juice to a liquid measuring cup. You can make your own DIY version of buttermilk if needed. Buttermilk: Buttermilk is required for this recipe.Thaw overnight in the refrigerator, bring to room temperature or serve cold. Frosted cake freezes well, up to 3 months. Bring to room temperature, make the frosting, frost, and serve. Cover the cake tightly and refrigerate for up to 2 days or freeze up to 3 months. Make Ahead Instructions: Prepare cake through step 5.Cover leftover cake tightly and store in the refrigerator for 5 days.This helps sets the frosting and makes cutting easier. Refrigerate for 30 minutes before serving. If you want the frosting a little thicker, add the extra 1/4 cup of confectioners sugar (I add it). Beat on low speed for 30 seconds, then switch to high speed and beat for 2 minutes. Add 3 cups confectioners’ sugar, vanilla, and salt. Make the frosting: In a large bowl using a handheld or stand mixer fitted with a paddle or whisk attachment, beat the cream cheese and butter together on high speed until smooth and creamy.After about 45 minutes, I usually place it in the refrigerator to speed things up. Remove the cake from the oven and set on a wire rack. Allow to cool completely.If you find the top of the cake is browning too quickly in the oven, loosely cover it with aluminum foil. The cake is done when a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Baking times vary, so keep an eye on yours. The batter will be slightly thick and a few lumps is OK. With the mixer on low speed, add the dry ingredients in three additions alternating with the buttermilk and mixing each addition just until incorporated. Scrape down the sides and up the bottom of the bowl as needed. Beat on medium-high speed until combined, then beat in the mashed bananas. Add both sugars and beat on high speed for 2 minutes until creamed together. Scrape down the sides and up the bottom of the bowl with a rubber spatula as needed. Add the eggs and the vanilla. Using a handheld or stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, beat the butter on high speed until smooth and creamy – about 1 minute.Whisk the flour, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, and salt together.I usually just use my mixer for this! Set mashed bananas aside. Preheat the oven to 350☏ (177☌) and grease a 9×13 inch pan.Garnish with green onions and sesame seeds. Top with marinated watermelon, cucumber, radishes, edamame and avocados. To serve: Divide rice among four bowls.If desired, make a sauce by stirring 2 tablespoons of the leftover marinade into mayonnaise. Using a slotted spoon, remove watermelon from marinade.Slowly pour in vegetable oil, whisking until emulsified. In a medium bowl, whisk together lime zest and juice, soy sauce, rice vinegar, ginger and honey.4 cups hot cooked short-grain white rice.½ cup vegan or regular mayonnaise (optional).6 cups watermelon, cut into 1/2- to 3/4-inch cubes.

#Just crack an egg cup

0 notes

horribletestsubject · 3 years

Text

Fic I just wrote based on These Two art pieces that I’ve drawn and THIS POST by @body-utensil-travels-terrain

———

You’ve spent your life being told you couldn’t. Now there’s a voice telling you that you can.

You remember it distinctly. You were fourteen at the time, just really starting to figure out what you wanted to do with your life (it certainly isn’t what society expected from you— but then, society doesn’t expect someone like you anyway, does it?) when you first heard her voice over the radio in your living room. The words she said resonated with you, the promise and ambition that she spoke with. It was almost like she was talking directly to you.

You do your research. You study hard. You tinker away at things in your garage, supplementing your studies in your own way. And five years later, after you’ve graduated, you put in your application.

A letter arrives a few weeks later, emblazoned with the circular symbol you’ve kept in your mind’s eye all this time, and bold lettering on the front— Aperture Science Innovators. It’s addressed to you. You open it, and your fingers tighten around the smooth paper— “congratulations” it says. You’ve been accepted. At the bottom is Her signature. You trace over it with your fingers. Delicately, as gently as you’d handle an irreplaceable machine part.

Two weeks later your bags are packed and you’re boarding a flight to Detroit. The attendant greets you. You hold up your boarding pass and get on. You land a few hours later. Getting a cab would be too complicated— people don’t like to take the time to read, and most can’t speak the way you do. So you walk to the train station, it’s not too far. Just an hour or two. You’ve walked further before.

Flat fields flow by endlessly as the train rattles down its tracks. You lean your head against the window, watching the hues of gold rush by, blurring on into infinity.

The sun is gone when you pull up outside a strange little town, surrounded by chain link fence. You fish through your bag for the packet you’d been sent— and pull out the temporary ID you’d been given. You show it to the gate guard. He lets you in. A man is waiting to show you your dormitory. You shake your head at his offer of a tour— you’ll explore the place yourself tomorrow. There are a few days before you’re actually needed for orientation.

The room is small and plain. A bed, desk, and dresser, and a small closet. That’s alright. You don’t need much. You hang up your few articles of clothing and tuck your shoes next to the door. The bed isn’t soft, but it isn’t hard. You fall asleep quickly, exhausted from your travels.

The next few days are spent wandering. Visiting the little shops, the stations. Peering into labs where you can. Climbing over fences (they could never keep you out) before quickly retreating as a security guard passed. You don’t want to get in trouble before your internship even begins. You wonder if you’ll see her. But you only hear her voice in announcements as you trigger motion sensors throughout the complex.

When work actually starts, it’s tedious. Getting coffee. Taking documents to the shredder and the incinerator. You don’t usually see the labs. Or, well, much of anything. It’s just a lot of running here and there, back and forth at your superiors’ beck and call. It’s tiring. But you do it— after all, you want to be here, you want to do this— and you never give up.

It’s a few months before you see her— before your internship takes you to the main complex. Now you’re checking inventory, sorting mail, sorting records (and chucking the casualty lists into the incinerator as instructed). Occasionally they’ll call you in to fix the coffee maker or the refrigerator.

You hear her voice once, muffled— she’s talking to someone, to a group it seems, just outside the room you’re in. You look over your shoulder and catch a glimpse. Rosy cheeks and bright-red lips, wavy dark hair flowing around her shoulder, a smile on her face (manufactured, you can tell with just this glance that she’s concealing so very much), a bright red scarf tied around her neck.

Your eyes lock for just a second, and the corner of her mouth creases, dimpling her cheeks. Your heart races— that, that was a hint of a true smile. Warmth flushes your own cheeks and you tear your gaze away. Suddenly shy— much shyer than you’ve ever been before.

It doesn’t make sense to you. Not yet. Not until you start seeing her more. Not until her smiles become more frequent and pointed. Not until her gaze lingers on you a little longer than before each time. The fluttery feeling doesn’t go away— and you’re determined more than ever to reach her.

Of course, it happens sooner and easier than you think. She starts requesting you specifically to bring her her coffee. You take a red pen and draw a little smiley face next to her name before giving it to her. When you come up to her office, there’s a sticky note left on the monitor, in that oh-so-hard to read yet absolutely beautiful cursive of hers. At the end of it is a smiley face, so much more elegant and less childish than yours. You keep the note. On her next cup, you add a heart to the dot of the ‘i’ in her name. You start responding to her notes with little notes of your own, your rounded, sometimes scratchy handwriting a stark contrast.

The notes are never there when you get back. You like to think she kept them. You’re pretty sure she did.

A year after you arrive, your internship is over, and you’re up for a promotion— junior mechanic. Probably still more of the same, but you’ll be getting a salary now (not that you really have any use for it since Aperture provides your housing) and you’ll have a permanent place. But you’ll see her less. You’ll miss that, of course— but you’re finally moving beyond your station, moving up in the company.

The day before your internship ends, you get another note. “Wanna get coffee together tomorrow?” Your heart leaps. You scribble out your answer just beneath her writing.

You’re sitting across from her at the cafe table. The cafe serves the same stuff as the cafeteria, but it’s decorated more quaintly, and always costs more for some reason. Maybe because there’s sunlight coming through the windows.

“So, headed up the ladder,” she begins after the two of you sip your drinks (well, she sips her drink, you’re too caught up in the crimson of her lips). “I guess I won’t be seeing as much of you now.”

There’s something behind her cheery voice, a sadness that you’ve caught glimpses of before, a wistfulness deeper than her words. You look up, catching her gaze for a moment and nod in response.

“Well, this is nice. Maybe we should do this more often. Once a week, at least? Or you could come over to my place. We could spend time together. As friends, or something.” With that, she gives you a wink. Your cheeks flush bright red.

You catch the implication right away. Your hero, your inspiration— and now here you are sitting across from her at a cafe while she all but outright asks you out.

You thought you’d be excited for things to grow beyond the notes and the gestures. But you feel different than that. After the initial jolt, the initial flutter, you look back over at her and you see the chasm yawning out between the two of you. The mountain she’s perched on, the valley you’re standing in. Your scratchy print against her elegant cursive, your short, bitten nails against her sharp manicure, your messy ponytail against her shiny waves. You look down at your simple intern’s badge, then over at her emblazoned one. She doesn’t even have a title listed— everyone knows who she is.

You’re miles apart, even if you might have seemed to be closer.

You stand up, your throat knotting up as you shake your head. You can’t look at her now, but you can practically feel the disappointment in her face as she murmurs “oh.” You want to explain but you can’t, your thoughts racing a mile a minute. The last thing you want is to turn Her, your idol, the one who makes your heart flutter, the reason you came here in the first place, down.

But you can’t do this now. Not yet. Not until you’ve reached the top of the mountain. Not until you’re close enough for her to reach out her hand and pull you the rest of the way up.

“Let me know if you change your mind,” she says.

You pause, halfway to the door. You turn back just enough so that you can glimpse her, and give a tiny nod.

After that you throw yourself into your work. Up to senior mechanic, then technician, then engineer— you’re working on Aperture’s new technology now, its most important projects. But you’re still not close enough. Into the test chambers you go at the CEO’s behest, defying death and physics at breakneck speeds, trusting in the tech you’ve helped create to ensure your survival.

Sometimes you look up and see her watching from the observation room, the tell-tale flash of red. You don’t look too long.

The CEO falls ill. He leaves a disturbing message. You try not to think too much of it— you’re almost there.

Your superior fails a test. You’re not surprised. Not hurt, not sad. It just happens and now you’re in the upper echelon. Now you’re at the top— now, you can reach out to her again. Tell her you’ve changed your mind. You can be equals now.

You go to her office. She isn’t there to answer the door. “Don’t you remember Mr. Johnson’s last request?” They say to you. You tried to block it out, but you remember.

You use your pass on a high security door. It opens. Your name is emblazoned too now. Just like hers was.

Before you is a massive operating system. On the screen reads a message: “transfer complete. transfer successful. writing data : do not disconnect subject.”

She’s lying inside a tube-like compartment. A transparent coffin. Wires hooked up to her. Eyes closed. Lips still ruby red.

You reach out and touch the glass. There’s no response. There won’t be a response.

This technology is untested. This is the first human-AI interfacing project Aperture has conducted. There’s only a fifty percent chance it will work, and even if it does, it doesn’t change the fact that she’s gone. You’ll never clasp her small hands inside your own calloused ones, tuck your head against her shoulder, press your lips against hers.

You’ve finally reached the top of the mountain. Finally reached her. But it was too late. When you crested the summit, she was already gone, and there was only a spatter of crimson left behind to show that she was ever there at all.

#portal #fanfiction #portal fanfic #portal fanfiction #chell #chell portal #portal chell #caroline portal #portal caroline #chelline #cheroline #chell x caroline #portal au #intern chell #intern chell au #my writing #cinna writes #might edit and post to AO3 at some point #but for now have the rough draft

40 notes · View notes

draganasimpsforjeff · 3 years

Text

Hunting Dogs Chapter Five(proxies x reader)

The fact that you had to remind yourself about breathing techniques while you were in the middle of a panic attack just almost seems impossible. It reminds you of the time when you ate an edible, not aware of the mg or how concentrated it was-as it was your first time; and your friend at the time didn't instruct you to just take a little as you had just seen him eat the whole gummy. Next thing you knew, your chest felt heavy and a random thought came into your head, "Am I breathing?" What was suppose to be a natural and automatic turns into a manual and immediate work in progress as you had to put yourself into a mantra.

At least then, it was something that would wear off over time and your breathing would be regulated once more and you were safe. This, this did not feel like a high. Sure, there was an adrenaline factor, but you were caught between fight-or-flight so often that you didn't know how to think. Every sound or movement makes you jump, the ticking from the clock on the wall just made you think more about how you have to leave work soon and become vulnerable once you step outside.

The numbers written on the winkled sheet made you want to run out of the restaurant without an excuse, run home, pack everything and get off the grid. Now, reluctant you wondered if it would be okay to just stick with morning shifts as the night meant shelter for the three men and prison bars for your mind. Maybe it was best if you had reported them to the police, but they would also need a description and a facial recognition would be a valuable asset to catching them. Sure, their height and clothing description could help, but just like today you had seen them in different clothes and they seemed to have just been at your job for maybe, five minutes? You remember very little of their facial features since you were making their coffee and couldn't just stare at them.

And if you were to report, you remember them wearing masks the night of the crime, so, who's to say they wouldn't wear those again? Plus, you haven't heard many good things of the law enforcement here as there were plenty of missing case files reported a few times a week and no one could find anything on anyone. It just feels like non one can stop anything from happening. You were beginning to realize you should've looked at the crime rate before your move to this town or maybe talk to some of the residents in a Facebook group or something like that? But then again, you didn't think this was gonna happen as you were focused more so on moving out and becoming stable by your lonesome.

A random thought came into your head as you slip your hand into the apron, feeling the dollars against your fingers. What about a night at a motel? You have tomorrow off, so you can buy yourself some time, being alone and away from your place in the mean time. Maybe if they go to your place tonight and you're not there...they would leave you alone?

It seems like such a naive and hopeful thought, but it was the only idea in your head at the time. You just have to quickly go home, pack a small bag with just the necessities and light as possible.

"Well, it seems pretty slow today due to the weather conditions and Kristine is adjusting well here, so if you'd like to leave you can." Mr. Baldwin says, motioning to the machine on the wall that recorded your hours. Swallowing nervously and the inside of your stomach doing somersaults, you clumsily grab the card with your name on it, slide it down, tapping 'yes' for clocking out. You didn't bother to say bye to anyone as you rush out.

Eyeing the street up and down, as well as the one across from you, you didn't see anyone that look like they want to kill you at the moment, you pushed past people, barely mumbling apologies and despite your sore feet from the old worn out shoes, you push yourself to speed up until you reach the front entrance of the building. You punch the code in, bouncing on the balls of your feet as it granted access slowly against your anxiety. Hearing the familiar 'ding' you pull the gate open, running upstairs, turning a few corners until you got to the hallway that included your apartment.

The light that was in the middle of the hallway flickers, sounds of the wiring threatening to stop connecting and fold you into complete darkness, you take your key out and with little to no help from the light source, it took you a few moments to find the hole, turning it and shutting the door behind you.

You take the apron off as you needed to rush and collect everything as soon as possible. Nearly slamming your shoulder against your bedroom door, you slam it behind you. You throw open the closet doors carelessly, locating a medium sized duffel bag. You didn't bother with a list as it meant having to stop and write what you need and that would eat up your time.

Clothes for a night or two, sleep meds, keys, toothbrush and toothpaste, hair brush (if you use one) phone, phone charger, all the money you have on you seem the be the only things you deem as important, especially since you would only be gone a night or so. You walk out of your apartment, locking it and jiggle the doorknob to give yourself reassurance that it was locked. You pull out your phone to google a nearby and possibly cheap rate motel as you didn't want to spend half your check on it when you need it for other bills once you come back. One did come up, surprisingly it was 3.5 stars and had decent reviews and was like $50ish a night so, it didn't raise alarms in your head as you were desperate. Plus side, it was only a few blocks away from you, kind of convenient but also makes you think that maybe you should choose another option.

Swiping through a few more choices, the one that was closest to you was the best fit, despite how close it was to your home. But if there was an emergency it could be a benefit and might make you feel secure if you have to run again.

The receptionist was a nice lady, looking to be maybe early 30's? blondish curly hair, small oval face and not striking, but definitely noticeable enough green eyes. She gave you the key to the room, giving you directions to where it was and telling you there would be coffee and honey buns available in the morning from 5:30 a.m to 8 a.m. You snort to yourself at that one, after all the events and the waking up early for working and going home late, you need the rest so you would have to figure out how to get breakfast another way.

Finding the room wasn't so hard, but a bit confusing as some of the numbers that were nailed to the door were missing, making the double digits single, some were falling off, or some didn't have numbers at all and you had to figure out the pattern. Darkness welcomes you as you assault the wall with your hand, trying to find the light switch. You squint your eyes and blink, adjusting to the light of the room. It smells like it had just recently been cleaned, one bed was beside the nightstand that held a lamp, the other side of the bed was a wall dividing the space from the bathroom. There was a small wooden dresser and mirror above it. You plop your bag onto the bed, closing the door and look around.

There was a t.v, but it looks nothing like the one you had back at home. It was like stepping back into 2008 with those box t.v's that were apparently still a thing in motels like this. Not sure what to do, you just unzip your bag, dumping out the contents onto the bed and begin to put your clothes away.

After literally a minute of putting your very few articles of clothing inside the drawers, you swipe the remote from the top of the t.v., pushing on the power button and watch as the screen slowly glows awake. You forgot how boring basic cable could be as nothing seemed to be on and there was more static then there was with something being on. Maybe a nap could help a bit as it was still early in the day and you definitely did need a nap. You reach over to the other side of the bed, taking some pills out of the bottle, groaning as you realize you didn't have a drink. But you were semi-comfortable and didn't want to walk around to find a vending machine.

You force yourself to dry swallow and nearly gag, coughing a little as you lay back, staring up at the white ceiling until your eyes shut and your minds blanks.

#Hunting Dogs #HuntingDogs #proxies x reader #creepypasta x reader

6 notes · View notes

royaltee98 · 3 years

Text

The worst sickle cell crisis

September 25-October 3.2021

Saturday September 25.2021

This was Sunday 2:00 in the morning mom just finished changing my foot and I was watching the golden girls.I fell asleep for a few minutes feeling this awful pain in my lower back I called my dad to tell him that I was having pain and to tell mom but instead I called her. She came over and laid with me rubbing my back and gave me some Motrin, until the next morning…. to be continued

Sunday September 26.2021

This was Saturday afternoon I told my dad I was going to shower while in the shower I wasn’t feeling so good I had to rush and wrap myself in a towel and go sat under the ac because I was feeling very tired and shaking. My mom came in my room and said I didn’t so good, still in awful pain I had a nail appointment that I made last week so I went with mom feeling ok, it took like 30 minutes to do. I got back in the car feeling very tired again, I walked into my house put my stuff down I crawled into bed and continued to watched golden girls I fell asleep again and mom was still rubbing my back. I just couldn’t get comfortable I was moving all my bed.

My mom said do you want to go hospital I immediately said yes it was so hard to get dress my mom helped me while getting the hospital bag ready. I was in so pain it was very difficult to walk so my dad swung me over his shoulders and put me in my mom cars. While driving to the hospital I felt every single stop, bump, and turn in the road. I was crying”. I need relief, I need fast” for me to say that means the pain was sky high. Couldn’t get comfortable always turning and sitting still was so hard in the car.

I got to the emergency room at this point the pain was beyond a 10 more like 10,000 I felt like drawing out of my skin and curling up into a ball until the pain was 100% gone. Once I got in the back and the nurses started an IV for fluids I got strong *pain medication. I would sleep for 10 minutes and right back up balling crying, turning, asking for more relief.

I was being transferred to the 3 floor which was orthopedic floor with a clean hospital bed. I was going in and out of pain in between trying to sleep to the prior medication I was given back at home. My mom was always rubbing my back, hips, and legs. Getting up to use the restroom felt like my legs were set on fire and about to break at any moment. I spent that night and half the that next morning in so much pain and agony.

Monday September 27. 2021

It was the next morning still in was much pain. I did a chest X-ray and take and *nebulizer breathing treatment. This sweet nurse told my mom and I, I needed to be *I.C.U because my oxygen level was at a 45 and had pneumonia, no one on this planet earth should be at a 45. SIDE-NOTE: I cried but I remember when my auntie I wasn’t allowed in the ICU to say my goodbyes because I was to young I was 14 when she pass away from cancer. My body was asking for help and I was transferred to the I.C.U. Once I got into the ICU the nurses put me on the this *high flow oxygen machine. It felt like I was growing in my air the oxygen was going so fast up my nose and the taste was horrible.

I really didn’t have an appetite but I knew I eat something so I won’t have another on my hands. I took a few bites for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Still coughing, in an *active sickle cell crisis , pain was going on. I was in misery I just wanted home to see my sister.

Tuesday September 28. 2021

This morning I did so much such as go get a *CAT scan, do a *echocardiography and I need to use the restroom today. The nurse get a wheelchair for me, it felt so good to come out of ICU. I did a CAT scan before so I was use to it. I got to my room I made a thumbs up gesture to my mom. A few hours went then the echocardiogram technician came to my room, I was pretty nosey she allowed me to look. I asked questions because I was curious the way my heart sounded when she put on the audio gave me more power to fight my way out of the ICU.

The pain management doctor came to ask how is my pain and have went yet. I said my pain is ok and no I haven’t went he said ok and said that he would make a medical mixture for me. I was ok with that.

For rest of the day doctors and different labs techincan came in my room.

Wednesday September 29. 2021

I sat up the chair cause the bed was staring to get uncomfortable and by this time I haven’t went to bathroom and it was kind of getting painful by I still needed eat still taking a few bites of breakfast and I said to my mom that my stomach was hurting. In the ICU there is a little separator dividing the room in the corner was a toilet. ⚠️ TMI ⚠️ Ever since I was born I suffered and still suffer from constipation. That morning I took the mixture pill with my other medication. Let me tell you when I sat on that toilet it was like WW3 I could destroy the whole of Afghanistan the smell that came out my body could have taken me out. It went on for some time back to back ever for the next few days.

After I went I was so hungry any time a nurse came in and ask me if I wanted anything I said yes I usually got ginger ale and chocolate pudding, I love me some snack pack chocolate pudding.

I want to shoutout to my mom because I had so many wires on me, she did everything for me if you know what I mean 😉

Every hour my nurse came to check on me and my mom and ever 4 hours to me my iv medication and if I needed any pain medication. I started to wean off the pain medication because I didn’t want to get addicted to them but if I needed I would ask politely.

I had to sleep on my left side because I had the pneumonia was in my right lung. So I facing the door to my room I prayed to God basically saying: Dear God, please heal my lung so I can get out of ICU and to be able to see my sister and dad. I know that you can do it I believe in you.

Thursday September 30. 2021

Still in the ICU feeling much still can’t take a deep breath but I was working on the *breathing spirometer that is mess felt like hell. More doctors came in to update me and my mom, they said I looked perfectly fine but my CAT scan and X-ray was showing that I had fluid overload, a small amount of fluid around of heart, and pneumonia.

In my head I was like I need to get out of here. Still working on the breathing barometer trying to cleat my lung coughing like a maniac and sitting up off my lungs.

That night the new season of station 19 and grey anatomy came on so my mom and I watched while I ate my hospital dinner and mom had her dinner. After that I FaceTime my sister as I did ever night in hospital saying goodnight and making jokes I say goodnight and can’t wait to get home to her.

Ever other night my mom changes my wound I had of 10 years now; she was coming to the end of wrapping the rolled gauze around my foot. Around the same time the I got a new night shift nurse she would so sweet and her charge nurse pass her a piece of paper. She read it and wrote on my room board 2258 and said that I was switching floors. At that moment I knew God heard my prayer for the night before I was so excited that I was moving rooms.

My mom stared to packed our belongs and checking the room to see if we had left anything in the cabinet.

Friday October 1 2021

It was barley 1:00 in the morning on our way to the new floor. This floor was called *PCU entering our new room 2258 where we spent the next three days in. I told my mom one day closer to seeing my sister; the nurses slid me over to my new bed which was super uncomfortable. Now on this new floor between 12 and 4 they you sleep which was very comforting to hear.

I really didn’t sleep cause cause there was lab technicians taking my blood and nurses taking vitals sign. Once the sun came up my mom and I started to get up. I had such an appetite I ate all of my breakfast and was still hungry but my mom kept a sash of little snack from previous breakfast, Lunch, and dinner trays that I didn’t eat prior to being backed up so I had my favorite combo ginger ale and snack pack chocolate pudding.

The same doctor from the ICU came up was updated my mom and I still looked fine on the outside but the inside was still acting up. After they left I did so research why are keeping it is because I had a low grade fever due to pneumonia that’s all.

The physical therapist came in to work with me and my limp due to the wound I had and still have for 10 years. I walked the entire PCU floor, basic excise like in and out kicks, stepping in place, hip opener, and muscle resistance.

The more I felt better the more food was on my hospital food tray that night for dinner I had pasta and meatball with ice tea, and chocolate pudding. For the rest of night my mom and I watched tv and was heading to bed.

Saturday October 2. 2021

That morning my mom and I had a mission I was to freshen up, take my meds, let the nurses give me my Iv antibiotic and we were going for a walk on the PCU floor. After all that I decided to sit up in the chair again. The doctors came in and still I was feeling better but the x-rays were getting clearer still had pneumonia but I since couching and using my breathing barometer is was getting better. They wanted to still keep me over night to watch me for any fever spikes.

The fever spikes will only happened at 12:00 in the night so they still concerned about that. Physical therapist came to walked me and this time I didn’t even realized that I walked the over floor I was going my speed like yesterday but it seemed faster.

My dad stopped by to give me some really pretty flowers and to relieve my mom so she can go home and freshen up and checked on to my sister. My dad and I went for a walk and by the time we finished she was on her back to the hospital. She brought Popeyes and we watched the movie Selena I almost cried because I heard how she died by never got to watch it, it was the older one with Jennifer Lopez.

We continue to watch tv as we went to bed.

Sunday October 3 .2021

This was the morning I felt that I was going to be discharged form the hospital and on our way home. For breakfast I had some pancakes and sausage to drink I had some orange juice and the nurse gave me my medication and I was just chilling. The doctors came in by now it was just the fever spikes at night was reason they kept me an extra night. The nurse I had was trying to discharge me I really appreciated that.

Lunch time had just begun at the same time the nurse had came into my room to tell me I had been discharged in mid bite of my pasta and meatball I just felt it I was so happy to see my sister and dad. She said do you want to finish your lunch or just want to be discharge I said I wanted to be discharged so she was took off my heart monitor, pulse oximeter, and the IV I had.

She read me my discharge papers that I had to sign after that she went to go get a wheelchair and my mom went ahead down to get the car. For a moment I was left in the room by myself I turned on some gospel music and was praising God and thanking him for bringing me out of this one.

I told my mom to not to tell my dad I was being discharged cause I wanted to surprise him. He even called me I said the I using the bathroom the truth was I was sitting sign my discharge papers. While being rolled down to the lobby I kept thanking God for all his had done.

Pulling up to my house I got out of the car rang the doorbell and my dad opened the door and was so surprised and my sister was still sleeping so I waited until she had gotten up to tell her that I was in the ICU she just was surprised.

Now it has been four days I been home feeling much better still keeping up on my water intake and taking my temperature, oxygen levels and working on my breathing spirometer. God has and will forever been by my family and I side in times of needs he is just so good, caring, loving, merciful. Thank you God.

*pain medication: Dilaudid: treat moderate to severe pain

*nebulizer: A device for producing a fine spray of liquid, used for example for inhaling a medicinal drug

*I.C.U: a unit in a hospital providing intensive care for critically ill or injured patients that is staffed by specially trained medical personnel and has equipment that allows for continuous monitoring and life support

*high flow oxygen machine: Only offered if traditional oxygen therapy isn't helping, high flow oxygen therapy helps reduce the effort your body needs to put into breathing. By decreasing the effort of breathing and creating a small amount of positive pressure in the upper airways, this therapy helps improve oxygen delivery.

*active sickle cell crisis (in my opinion): is the pain the starts you feel it as the bad cells dies off

*CAT scan: n X-ray image made using a form of tomography in which a computer controls the motion of the X-ray source and detectors, processes the data, and produces the image.

*echocardiogram:a test of the action of the heart using ultrasound waves to produce a visual display, used for the diagnosis or monitoring of heart disease.

*breathing Spirometer:a common office test used to assess how well your lungs work by measuring how much air you inhale, how much you exhale and how quickly you exhale.

*PCU: The Progressive Care Unit or PCU is a telemetry (vital signs) monitored unit that provides care for adult patients requiring continuous cardiac monitoring

Love T.B.❤️

#sicklecellwarriors

4 notes · View notes

grim-faux · 3 years

Text

2 _ 23 _ The Best Magician

First

With a stifled rasp, Mono snapped his head up. Very slowly he uncoiled from the confines of his coat and rubbed a palm against his eye, working through the drowsiness lingering. He took in the nearby area, searching for movement or shadows, impossible shapes in impossible places. So many of the bent pipes and knotted cables cast odd designs through the undergrowth of machinery. Above, a gear whirred with a chain snared over the teeth, the rusted links zipped by and to somewhere out of sight through the brewing haze.

He might’ve dreamed, or he nodded off and thought of something frightening. He had some trouble recalling where he was, or what happened last. Where was he going? What was he doing here?

The other kid, from the container. He got them out. They would be around. He might see them somewhere, looking for the way out. It would have been nice to have help from a… anyone.

Too much time was already wasted seated and not doing or going. Mono climbed to his feet and shook out his coat. He’s still a little stiff from sitting scrunched up, but as he began sifting among the anchored pillars and wiring, his joints began loosening. It wasn’t too bad, given the place was very warm.

The cluttered area beneath the machine became too dense with cables and cylinders slithering across the ground, a few of these obstacles he could climb over. Other attachments to the shuddering beast proved too hot, he couldn’t get close. He was forced to backtrack through the passages and seek another direction, he hoped he was headed the right way. Briefly, his destination was a mystery, and he really wasn’t sure where he was.

The fuse! Right. He needed the fuse to get the door open. That was over where the office was, where he left the Thin Man.

A passage through a broken vent offered a clear path beneath sweltering tubing, through the flue a hot draft gushed forth. It wasn’t that bad, mostly dry. He crept through the tunnel, climbing an incline until he reached the other end. The vent grate popped open with a firm push, and he tumbled out among more scaffolding anchored to the cement by massive bolts. Some were the size of his head.

Once up on his feet he scouted the area, struggling with the booming hum of the machines heaving and working against the cement walls of the building. His sights settled on movement off to the left, just above the rail of the fence guarding the grinding gears. Oh!

Quickly and as stealthy as he could manage, Mono scurried among the anchored pillars. HurryHurryHurry! He was practically vibrating by the time he cleared the dense jungle and squeezed through the fence bars.

He didn’t ascend the steps yet, but plucked his hat higher on his brow and waved. “Psst?”

The other kid was crouched higher on the steps, huddled beside a support bar. They winced back from the call and cringed lower, not looking but… not really hiding away either.

Carefully, Mono picked his way up the steps. When he was a lone meter from the other kid, they uncoiled from their spot and zipped up the remaining stairs. Mono stopped at the place they abandoned, watching them dip out of view over the highest edge of the walkway.

He probably shouldn’t chase them. If they didn’t want to be around him, then it wouldn’t work if he kept following. While he was on the path, he’d continue and try to figure where the side of the building was. He was still lost. Seeing far off to the walls was impossible now, with how thick the vapor was. Never mind being surrounded by branching cogs and belts twisting high, and thick chains hanging from the ceiling. Did the ceiling still exist?

Somewhere the catwalk would branch out, and one of the paths would have steps leading back to the floor. He needed to reach the wall, thus he followed the path for now, keeping his eyes acute for anything that looked familiar. All these sections and connecting bars, intermixed with pipes looked the same. Even the bellowing plumes of steam looked identical. He sighed, picking up the pace.

Up until the scaffolding beneath his feet quaked. Oh-no! Which way? He checked behind him, then below, gaze slowly sweeping along his original route. Oh… a large mass scaled the side of a ladder, the knotted chains upon his back glittered like teeth.

All too soon the Mechanic would alight on the platform and either go one way, or venture toward Mono. It would have no issue spying him, even with a bored glance.

Without thinking about it, Mono slipped to the side of the catwalk and carefully let himself down. Winding and gnashing guts of the factory spun beneath his toes, nothing to catch him if he lost his grip. He just needed to keep still and hold out.

The Mechanic thumped upon the path above, and Mono’s damp fingers slid a fraction. Even then he wouldn’t budge or shudder, and only held on tighter; his brow wet with sweat. He glanced at the grate with the dozens of dozens of light glinting through, then, slipped his gaze downward. The vibrating steps closed in, becoming more pronounced, heavier and near deliberate. His fingertip ached, but not enough to make him question his choice. The faint glow swathed around him shifted, becoming black. Mono continued to sway like a flimsy bit of cloth.

Then the booming boots shuffled closer, so near he thought they’d crush his fingertips. Mono held his breath and kept totally still. If he moved now, it would see. Don’t breathe. Don’t think.

No doubt, not a question about it. No point in regret. It’s not looking for children, it’s just looks at the factory.

The ragged breath heaved within the tattered lungs. After an agonizing minute or more, the boots scrapped over the tarnished surface and began a retreat, moving further and further still along the scaffolding. At last, the noises of the factory reasserted themselves, as if the entire lumbering network had silenced and settled in rapt attention.

With a little gasp, Mono grappled with the surface he clung too. His hands were clammy, his entire boney frame trembled. With a tremendous amount of fighting, he finally hauled up onto the catwalk and crawled from the edge. He nearly collapsed onto his side, but rather, hoisted onto his feet and kept going.

The Mechanic was going that way, and he was going this way. He hoped that other kid got away, but seeing that the Mechanic came up a ladder, the kid was long gone by now.

For a while the catwalk should be clear of the horrendous creature, allowing Mono to run without concern of stumbling into it. He remained focus on the grate platform beneath his feet, but as typical the thrumming rattle came from the factories burbling churning rather than mountain steps. Eventually, he reached a stair set that ascended higher, above a large set of cylinder vats fixed to the floor. The catwalk divided two ways, and he elected the path going right, with the idea this would take him closer to the edge of the machines body.

Unfortunately, it does not. At a distance and obscured by mist, the path twisted downward before breaking free entirely. Far below much of the metal draped over the pipes or other warped structures forged the factories inner workings, a lopsided gear clicked periodically while a damaged chain slapped at a eroded pillar. The section damaged, but struggling to fulfill its duty to the whole of the network.

There is no safe way to climb down, let alone another way to cross the gap to what remained of the other portion of platform.

Mono retraced his path and chose the other catwalk. This direction isn’t much better, it takes a curved path around pumping pistons and cranking arms. The path had been torn down as well, as evident by cinderblock littered on the grate, along with a chain. At least from here he’s able to climb down by the chain, wrapped around the base of the rail. The chain doesn’t extend to the floor, but comes close enough to a nearby conveyor belt. The endless-motorized walk moved fast, but he’s braced and sure of himself.

On his third swing he leapt and plopped down onto the rippled surface, nearly going off the side entirely when his legs shoot out from under him. He managed to halt his erratic roll and shove upright, first seeking where he was headed. He snapped his head to the side and dove down—

CLANG!

A wrench smashed into the side of the zooming platform, and Mono rolled away. He clawed at the surface before he was lost completely and managed to tighten his fingers into the rough texture. He’s no longer curious about where he’s going, but now locked onto the thundering momentum clomping among the pipes – beady, droopy eyes nailed to his form.

Another tool went flying, but the aim went wild and missed hitting anything solid. Despite that, the gale of the projectile swept his coat around his knees. He couldn’t tug himself up let alone drop from this height, and the speed— He could only dangle and gawk at the Mechanic, weaving among the pillars anchored to the floor. Teeth gnashing, eyes wild, another tool snapped from its belt. Worst of all, it was gaining!

Mono dropped his gaze and searched the ground, rooting for something. Even if he had the vigor, the Mechanic was going to swat him with the next pitch. The scaffold!

With a jerk and a twist, he zipped through open air and smashed into the lattice build of the supporting brace beneath the machine. He fumbling to drop quickly without falling the full height, a little bit at a time. Somewhere, the dull clatter of the tool barked forth from whichever surface it hit. Far away was his only concern. Not far enough.

To the edge of his peripheral, the Mechanic gave a haggard shrill as it kept going beyond where he touched down. Its girth and grungy boots skimmed through the greasy floor, up until it plowed into a sturdy pipe. That would stop it, but only a moment.

Before that time, Mono was already on solid floor, back turned and ducking among the machinery. He sprang through a curtain of steam, choosing a mostly clear opening to the side. When the Mechanic gave a nasally wail, he chanced an unfortunate glimpse over his shoulder. The hulking beast clambered over the anchored pipes, lunging closer and closer, its gritty hands clawing for hand holds among chains or corroded tethers.

Then altogether it dropped the ravenous focus and snapped its malformed face to the side. Mono would’ve taken the opportunity to keep going and disappear, but he clipped the edge of a bolt and toppled to his knees. He leapt up, scanning his surroundings, spying some sort of movement that was not steam or broken glitter cast by the lamps.

Other kid!

From where Mono rushed recklessly, he can’t tell what the problem is. They’re fighting, fighting them self to move, or fighting the terror that has them rooted. Whatever has them fixed won’t matter, the Mechanic will tear them loose piece by piece. It’s going right for them, heaving the last few feet to the huddled shape.

Mono doesn’t think. In a glitchy flash and curdling shriek, he’s cut the distance and running. Skidding under a low cylinder, then vaulting over a thick bundle of cables. He reached other kid and gave them a full body shove, he doesn’t even look to see if they’ve been caught in a gear or tied down – it doesn’t matter – he snared their hand and hauled them from the little corner of death. He glanced back, as the Mechanic growled. The sound vibrated above the din and clatter of the factory applauding.

With the kid in tow, no resistance at all, they shoot out in an open space beneath the conveyor belt he was riding earlier. He tried to duck beneath the lattice scaffold he climbed down, and while the gap there is traversable, he finds no opening wide enough or passage open enough for them to cram into. The factory base is loaded with pillars, pipes, belts of cables. He tugged the other kid along, and they pried back at his arm – not trying to pull away, but warning him.

ComingComingComingComingComingComingComingComingComing!

They point too at spaces that appeared open – Mono can see better though, and shook his head. “No. No.” He settled to run along, ducking under the fringe of vents. If only one of the fan things was not spinning, they could shuffle into there. He dove past a pipe—

And recoiled. The thread punch of steam whistling forth was painful!

He heaved other kid away, before they could get stung as well. Looking at the pipe and the way the colors rippled around it, he got an idea. Jerking other kid along, he pointed in a direction and shoved them. The kid didn’t stall or protest, off they went. The further from this mess the better.

Mono wasted no time whipping around, checked where the Mechanic was. Making a beeline for him, out and away from cover like this. It swung around a support pillar and thundered his way, sagging jowls slick with drool or sweat.

Tipping his hat down, Mono lunged at a broken spike of metal on the floor. It was large and heavy for him, but he heaved it over to the corrupt pipe whistling. He gave it a whack! Bits of rust chipped loose, blasting out of view. He doubted then, skin going cold over the chance this would not work. Nonetheless, he gave the gasket another wallop. And a third! When the shadow of the Mechanic stretched over him, Mono did a full three-sixty and with every piece of his little body plowed the sharp spear against the fractured pipe. There was so much force behind that impact it made his wrists go numb, and he folded down.

In the next second a crackle rebounded above his head, the trite whistle became an agonized howl – rivaled only by the Mechanic as he was blasted full force by scalding steam. Very quickly Mono scooted away on his knees and hands, the heat so intense it seared right through his coat and hat. Lucky he had the foresight to put down the little bit of protection.

Upon clearing himself from the broiled vicinity, Mono sprang back to his feet and renewed the running, gasping for air harder now in the super-heated range. The Mechanic’s heavy boots scuffed over the gravely floor, but it was subdued. It would recover shortly and renew its pursuit, in a more frenzied fashion.

He kept going, opting to collect his second wind while he could. No real opening revealed itself in the side of the factory undergrowth, all of which escalated his distress. The Mechanic huffed, its steps quickening and that anger boiled. He glanced back a few times before he decided to he REALLY needed to pick up the pace.

Some of the gravely floor cleared out as he covered distance, and he recognized this path. It was not far from the side of the factory, but it was also not likely near the place where he left the Thin Man. Even so, he could find an open vent or pipes on this side. Somewhere.

Following a turn in the road into more components of the factory innards, he recalled there was a set of steps around here. To the back, above the platform. The Mechanic used them earlier….

On his way by the fallen chain, the links began drawing back upward slowly. But stopped. The suddenness spooked him, but after a short fumble he turned his gaze over to the podium.

The other kid had climbed onto the stand and was touching the controls. Curious. Touching another one of the buttons, the chain flopped down. With considerably less force than when Mono tried it earlier, when it was much-much higher above.

This was something! Something! The pavement was cracked!

Mono dashed over to the steps and launched up them, restraining himself from a teleport. He hoped the kid didn’t spook off again, he needed them.

“Hey,” he rasped, as he pulled himself up onto the control panel. Understandably frightened, the other kid scooted back. But the fall would be perilous if they ditched now.

Mono shook his head. “Look,” he whispered. After giving it a thought, he tried one of the buttons on the panel. And pointed.

Across on the floor, the chain began to pick itself up. Chink-by-chink. And further beyond where the chain lay, the Mechanic came lumbering in. Confused and probably delirious with pain. Even from where he sat, Mono could make out the flaking surface of its face from where it was hit. Good! He hated it.

Upon seeing the Mechanic resurface, the other child tried to bolt. But Mono snared their arm and set a finger to his own lips. “Shh.” He patted the platform where they sat, made a comforting trill noise. Like the sound the other kid with the bad eye made. He showed them how to drop the chain, which colored dials to press and remember.

That clatter caught the attention of the Mechanic. Mono was unsure if it could still see or not, if ever it could see before. It must’ve. It kept throwing junk at him with such accuracy.

For a brief second or more, Mono rehearsed the controls with the other kid. Lift chain and drop. He wanted the chain high and dropped hard. The other kid needed to wait here. “Safe,” he uttered, gently, and patted them on their moppy head. Because it would be safe. Nothing would get them.

Mono was going to go trick a Mechanic.

Still very unsure about this, Mono plopped off the stand and dropped to the floor. “HEY! Hai!” For good measure, he waved his arms. The Mechanic had been charging their way, but when Mono performed this blatant display for it, and screaming – after what He did – the Mechanic didn’t speculate a thing.

The plan wasn’t very complicated, if the other kid got the general idea. Mono couldn’t say. The other kid got caught, maybe he would bail. He had a backup, which was not the greatest, but it might confuse the irate thing. Enough for him to get away.

Mono rushed to the cracked space on the road and stood directly there, gawking up. The chain was thankfully so high now he couldn’t see where it was, if it came down like it did the first time, all would be good. He did retreat a step when the Mechanic came right up to him, and ducked just out of range when it lunged—

The chain whizzed down and crashed into its swollen neck. The Mechanic collapsed, nearly on top of Mono if he hadn’t bailed at the last moment and jumped aside.

Did it! He turned his gaze toward the stand, but the other kid… was gone. Where? Come back? He tilted his head. They left? Or hide?

The Mechanic’s hand twitched, and Mono skipped back further. It had to be dead. No. It couldn’t not be dead. But he’s probably wrong about this. The beady, murky eyes within the skull glitter, and a fetid snort rolled from the creatures eroded teeth.

NOT DEAD!NOTDEADNOTDEADNOTDEADNOTDEADNOTDEADNOTDEAD!!!!

On the tip of abandoning this situation completely and utterly, Mono zipped around the Mechanic’s side and snagged the hook of the chain. He grunted and heaved, straining with all his might to clip the rusted latch onto the ratty vest, then took off! His eyes searched above for where the chain connected - it was some sort of bar, or rail. Something!

A terrible metallic wrenching erupted at his back, and Mono didn’t spare or stop for a look. He knew this side, there was some gap or cuvee he could crawl into. Nothing was stopping this thing, at most he just peeved it off!

He lunged at the fence and squeezed through the bars. On the other side, the Mechanic caught up and kept track of his movement. Mono only gained distance on the creature when it stalled to hope over the barrier, but now it was lumbering after him. Much quicker than when he barely maimed it with steam. He needed a place to stop, a moment for rest. His legs ached and he’s certain blood is spilling from his knee now.

Without a second thought, he lunged for an opening beneath an incline conveyor belt. The contraption moved nothing, aside from the occasional debris or… something. He doesn’t really think, only that there’s a place he can maybe cram into where the Mechanic can’t reach with its fist.

At last he is correct, the space beneath the inclined transport won’t allow most of the Mechanic through. There’s nothing but twisted pipes beneath, and a thrumming contraption with a spinning wheel. Not one to take chances, Mono squeezed himself through the heated mess of tangled innards, while the Mechanic grunted and dug around at the space he entered from. Those strangled noises fade out, as the heaving drum of the engine asserted itself and blundered through his own thoughts.

He slipped down into a gap in the floor space, his toes sunk into warm grease and gunk. Enough light glittered down, guiding him through the narrow space among bundles of sticky cables. He pulled himself up onto a protruding slate, toward lines of light pressing through a grate. With a little push, the spherical cover popped loose. With a little more of his reserves and force, he’s able to slip the weighted metal aside and climbed out.

A little further away, the Mechanic is still peering into the sliver of cuvee where Mono vanished. In its distraction, Mono crept out a little and stole a portion of the chain visible, just a little beyond the range and sight of the Mechanic. In the conveyor belt nestled a whirling spool, beneath the stretch of textured material rolling upward on its tireless, empty task. The chain is very heavy for him to haul along, but he focused on sort of falling backwards while using the chain to keep himself from toppling over completely.

Quite suddenly the other child has joined him, on the other side of the chain. They shove and he heaved backwards, the two get the process synchronized and really grind the chain along to its new home. Mono’s eyes burn with tears and sweat. Almost done! Almost!

The Mechanic drew its head back, right when he and other kid shoved the chain into the slot at the base of the motorized incline. Other kid didn’t stick around, they shot off. Mono fell to his knees, observing as the chain whirled by at a frightening speed. The instant the links knotted tight within the narrow slot he dove aside—

A most gruesome screech ignited from the turbine embedded within the motor, while chinks of corroded metal were swallowed down and chewed to bits. Sparks coughed out of the machine, along with a puff of blue flame. Mono scrambled up and ran, that was so much louder than he thought possible. Also, bits of sharp metal and gears erupted from the floor, among with chunks of uprooted cement. A spike of rusted flint embedded itself with the cement floor a little to his right! Close! Too close! Cover!

HideHideHideHideHideHideHideHideHideHideHideHide!

A second more horrific noise expelled through the haze of the factory, when the Mechanic was yanked off its feet and tucked in among the very narrow slot of beneath the motorized slope, the one where Mono was squeezing himself through. The Mechanic’s arm zipped into the floor and vanished, its other arm reached skyward as a dreadful gargle spewed from its throat. Its vest and the chain sash splint into various sized ribbons, and much of its torso became fresh ground meat.

There was no mournful bellow or further coughing, retching, not even a sob. The Mechanic splint in two, and a final implosion announced the creature’s bitter demise. From there, the conveyors belt continued its dutiful role – haphazardly, hitching and clinking at the bits of metal it garbled. Otherwise, the fire and explosions ceased. A thick black fog hung over the minced corpse, but any suggestion of fire was doused by gallons of red fluid.

A safe distance away and huddled under a sequence of bent cylinders, Mono chanced lifting his head. He pushed his hat up and examined the scene, his nose curling at the smell. Awful. Yuck. Uncoiling a little more, he sat on his knees trying to catch his breath and process what he was looking at.

Tricked. Done. No more. Good.

Despite the Mechanic being splint in two, and most of his skull crushed, Mono is cautious when he ventured closer to the body. Nothing seemed to deter it, though it looked properly and completely demolished. He held his arms a little from his sides, in case he needed to make a full retreat. Not moving, except for the partially uprooted incline tugging at the skewered backside.

Belt! The Mechanics belt, it did have a good fuse on it.

Mono ducked in and tugged at the gleaming cylinder, bracing on his heels amidst the drying viscera, until the item popped loose. He tumbled to his back but recovered quickly and took up the item. No worries either, it looked like the chain coiled about the Mechanics body was lodged into the conveyor belts now exposed spool. It should be safe now. Should. No guarantees.

The boy spun around and pattered off, he suspected in this direction the exit would lie. Through the swirling fumes, he could define the texture of a solid wall. It shouldn’t be far. He wondered if the other kid was still around, could be watching him. The Mechanic was tricked, they shouldn’t need to hide now. But he was still uncertain, so they might be extra careful too.

In his absence, one of the chains braced through the inert body of the Mechanic shivered. With a last tremor, the restraint snapped free and lashed across the mostly functioning conveyor ramp. Swaying and partially planted on the shredded belt, the chain begins its journey. Traveling up and up to the crest of the ramp, fading from view as it ventured onward.

Everything is fine.

#little nightmares #mono #the thin man #thin dad #little nightmares fanfic #little nightmares fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #everything is FINE

4 notes · View notes

aryaindustry · 1 year

Text

Paper Plates Machines in Patna: Arya Industry

Arya Industry specializes in supplying advanced paper plates machines in Patna and Deoghar that are designed for high productivity and efficiency. Their machines can produce a wide range of paper plates, catering to the needs of various businesses. With their state-of-the-art technology and precise manufacturing, these machines ensure consistent quality and durability, making them a reliable choice for your paper plates production.

Slipper Machine:

For those in the footwear manufacturing industry, Arya Industry offers top-quality slipper machines in Patna. These machines are engineered to produce comfortable and stylish slippers with precision and speed. Whether you need simple designs or intricate patterns, Arya Industry's slipper machines can meet your requirements while ensuring excellent craftsmanship and efficiency.

Noodles Machine:

Arya Industry understands the growing demand for instant noodles and offers high-performance noodles machines in Patna. These machines are capable of producing different types of noodles, from traditional favorites to customized recipes. With their user-friendly interfaces and robust construction, Arya Industry's noodles machines deliver consistent results and maximize your production capabilities.

Non-Woven Bag Machine:

As the world shifts towards eco-friendly alternatives, the demand for non-woven bags is on the rise. Arya Industry provides cutting-edge non-woven bag machines in Patna that enable you to manufacture durable and reusable bags. These machines are known for their reliability, speed, and flexibility, allowing you to produce non-woven bags in various sizes and designs to cater to your customers' needs.

Paper Cup Machine:

In the food and beverage industry, Arya Industry offers high-quality paper cup machines that are essential for efficient and hygienic cup production. These machines are designed to handle different paper cup sizes and configurations, ensuring precise forming and sealing. With Arya Industry's paper cup machines, you can meet the demands of the market while maintaining product quality and consistency.

Notebook Machine:

Arya Industry's notebook machines are renowned for their versatility and exceptional performance. These machines enable you to manufacture notebooks of various sizes, bindings, and cover designs. From school notebooks to office supplies, Arya Industry's notebook machines deliver superior output and contribute to the seamless production of high-quality notebooks.

Cattle Feed Machine and Poultry Feed Machine:

For the agricultural sector, Arya Industry provides reliable cattle feed machines and poultry feed machines. These machines are designed to process raw materials into nutritious feed for livestock and poultry. With their robust construction and advanced features, Arya Industry's feed machines ensure optimum feed quality and help farmers enhance the health and productivity of their animals.

Wire Nail Machine:

Arya Industry's wire nail machines are highly sought after by construction and manufacturing industries. These machines efficiently produce nails of various sizes and types, meeting the requirements of different applications. With precision engineering and robust components, Arya Industry's wire nail machines deliver high productivity and outstanding nail quality.

#paperplatesmachinesinPatna #slippermachinesinPatna #papercupmachines #cattlefeedmachines

0 notes

jisablog · 1 year

Text

https://gujaratwireproducts.com/2022/08/04/high-speed-wire-nail-making-machine-gujarat-india/

#wire nail making machine #nail making machine

0 notes

robbyrobinson · 3 years

Text

OWL HOUSE X CTHULHU MYTHOS CROSSOVER: GODS AWAKEN (PT. 23)

In Belos’ laboratory, three guards were surrounding the portal machine whilst others were casually speaking with each other.

“So that human woman will be the first human executed under Lord Belos?” a guard asked. They were both wearing attire appropriate to any serving the Emperor’s Coven. His partner was slightly taller and had a gruffer voice.

“Bah, I’d think the Emperor would be less merciful in regards to that rat creature.”

Beyond them, more of Emperor Belos’ enchanted suits of armor were continually being created and stowed away in boxes. The process was the same as it ever was: rock harvested from the petrified statues were collected and pitched into vaults containing scorching liquid metal. They were then placed on the conveyor belts upon being cooled and fashioned. Rinse and repeat a thousand times, and this became a daily occurrence for the guards. It did not bother them where the rocks they were using to mold the armor came from. In fact, some were blissfully going about their business without fully knowing they were harvesting rocks from petrified statues.

The doors opened up revealing the Owl Spy to be behind it. “Afternoon.”

The other guards turned around to meet the masked man. When the door was fully opened, they dropped their weapons, freezing in place. There was a good reason for it: behind the door was that owl demon they had encountered back when Lilith used to lead them. That same owl demon that completely swept the floor of them.

“I-It can’t be...” one panicked; his ankles were locking up because of fright, “It’s the Devil!”

The guards braced themselves for the imminent pound down they were anticipating. After a couple seconds, there was no hint of provocation coming from the feathered fiend. They slowly uncovered their faces in confusion.

“Why is that...thing here?” one guard finally mustering up to speak.

“The Emperor had informed me that this owl demon would be of great use to our cause,” the Owl Spy replied.

“What, but how?”

“The Owl Lady had gone through a few...sessions, and I was finally able to extract an answer from her: this owl demon is a high-tech security system; with this fine system at our arsenal, he can be a worthy weapon against our enemies.”

The guards glared at each other then back to the owl house. While the monster had filled their dreams with night terrors for months ever since Lilith led them to try to capture the Owl Lady, they did acknowledge, if ever so slightly, that he was of considerable value. With a little fine-tuning, the owl demon could work for them.

“Besides; even if the house is still loyal to the Owl Lady?” the Owl Spy noted, “the Emperor had permitted us to serve the demon in a great banquet in a celebration of the human woman’s death.”

The gruffer voiced guard nodded. “I have heard that their type of meat is of exquisite taste.”

The guards mumbled for a few seconds and shrugged. Reclaiming their electric-tipped weapons, they slowly approached the house some taking the northern and southern parts of it. They looked in through the windows to see if anyone was inside, but they were obscured by purple curtains.

“What of the prisoners,” one of the guards asked the Owl Spy.

“They already have front row seats to the execution,” the Owl Spy replied in a deadpan fashion.

“You don’t mind if I send a few men to corroborate the story?”

“Sure, by all means; why not take it directly to Belos then? I am sure that he would love to hear that one of his minions would dare question his word especially if it was ordained by the Titan.”

The guard backed off raising his hands in the air. “Well played.”

As the owl house was being brought in, a shorter-framed guard tapped his weapon on the side of the house as if to see if the house truly was, hopefully in his case, dead. Like he expected, the house did not suddenly bolt to life. While his curiosity should have been satiated at that moment, he decided to lean in closer. He walked to the door and saw the owl demon’s wretched face. Its eyes were closed tightly apparently not hearing all the running wires in the laboratory let alone the probing that was being done to its outer casing.

He walked onto the porch of the house, his weapon drawn higher than before, until he was inches away from the owl’s face. He turned to look at his men seeing that they had slowly become frightened. Turning back to the owl house, he tapped the flat end of his staff on the bird’s beak. It rung out singing a hollow tune. He waited a few minutes to see if this was the final nail that could stir the demon from its deep slumber. He was about to turn away until he heard a small murmur. His neck nearly snapped with how sudden its turn was: nearly a 360 degree. His feet became glued to the ground and he was stiff as a wooden board. The owl’s beak started to move.

“Sleeping....sleeping....SLEEP HOOTING!!!”

In a flash, Hooty’s tube body surged with a renewed energy and shot out like a speeding bullet.

“HEY GUYS!” Hooty shrieked. He looked around the room seeing all the bizarre gadgets and buttons.

“Ooo, what do all these buttons do?”

In his excitement, Hooty shoved the guard out of his way with his long body and smashed his way through the machines ripping and tearing his way through them regardless of the sparks flying from them. Slipping his way through the board containing all the buttons, Hooty resurfaced like a breached whale with a huge chunk of wires and scrap metal between his beak. Even when the wires were popping with electricity, it didn’t seem to catch any concern from the owl demon.

The guard ran down from the door post flailing his arms. Hooty’s neck struck again effortlessly infiltrating one of the guard’s masks and, somehow, Hooty crawled into four guard’s masks before erupting out the final one. He had strung himself through them as skillfully as a string going through the eye of a needle. He swung them around somehow maneuvering their bodies and making them perform inhuman actions. They were all the marionettes being controlled by their puppet master.

“It’s great to have so many friends!” Hooty shouted, hooting incessantly.

The doors to the house shot open. Before the guards could have time to react, Luz, Amity, and King sprung out. King latched his tiny body around one of Belos’ minion’s face. The man began to panic and ran around in an endless circle. He reached out to forcibly pry the small demon off his face to no avail.

“Oh, dear Titan! Get it off me! Get it off me!!”

Luz withdrew paper and slammed them on the ground. Ice propelled from the ground encasing several guards in between the large columns of ice. So many ice columns in fact, they had to scrunch together. Any sudden movement, and they could be jabbed by the sharp blades of ice. Some pieces were dangerously close to stab them in the eye.

One guard was able to slip a hand and curved their fingers over their mouths. They whistled signaling more guards to enter the laboratory to take down the threat. Luz continued to dish out paper after paper containing the glyph for the ice spell and it froze several of them in place.

Lilith and Eda emerged from the house carrying frying pans to make up for their minimal power. The sounds of the pans colliding with the skulls of Belos’ minions rang out. With their ages, they were gradually beginning to show exhaustion, but they continued trying to press on.

“Whew, my back’s starting to chafe,” Eda groaned, “how are you holding on?”

“My frying pan is already starting to wear out.” She held it up taking note of the massive dents in it. It was barely holding on by its handle. Any other swing of it, and it would likely be ground up like a piece of raw meat. “But if it’s for Luz’s sake, then I can muster up a little more strength.”

The two sisters ran back into the house to find other items to throw. The guards start to flood into the house trying to capture the two women.

“Abomination, rise!”

Amity raised her hands and from the ground, her abomination erupted. She directed her mindless servant towards the horde of minions. They turned to see the lumbering Goliath approaching them and raised their weapons to intercept the encroaching beast. A colossal fist rained down on them, falling dozens of them. They launched javelins and other weapons at the beast, but they merely stuck through him and were vacated out of the other side. Hooty was continuing to happily clobber guards and had trapped one around his coils and pinned on the ground. A board game was in the middle. Hooty had already taken his first move.

“Your turn, hoot! Hoot!!”

The guard was hyperventilating and shaking like a leaf. It was apparent that he was sobbing. “Mommy, please! Help...”

Motionless guards were around the man. Eda saw this and winced. “Almost makes me feel bad for them.”

“Come to think of it, I thought your house system had its soul tossed into space-time,” Lilith remembered, “how did he come back?”

Hypnos sat on the couch drinking tea and casually watching Hooty play his game. “Oh, I saw his soul flying around the time that Amity and Luz first arrived to Earth; just thought to save it until the time was right.”

“Hoot! Hoot! I was in some world with a lot of mushrooms, and they made me their king!” Hooty proudly proclaimed.

Hypnos snickered in amusement. “I am in awe at how you were able to get your hands on a Great Old One.”

Eda raised an eyebrow. “Great Old One?”

“You seriously thought that all Hooty was good for was being a security system? This boy here is probably the most powerful being on the Boiling Isles; usually Great Old Ones would be locked away, and for good reason: Hooty can easily destroy the Boiling Isles if he wanted to.”

Lilith and Eda shared an equal look of bewilderment mixed with horror. “WHA!?”

Hypnos nodded his head and sipped his tea. “I agree; that is quite a cumbersome dilemma; wouldn’t want to be the poor sap who has to deal with that.”

The fact that Hooty was immensely powerful and held the fate of the Isles in his invisible hands was hard to swallow. Mistreating the owl demon was something that was done without much thought. But now, Hooty could possibly bring an apocalypse on the land if he so pleased. Luckily for them, Hooty was neither good nor evil, just a creature of pure chaos.

“When this is over, remind me not to mess with Hooty, Lilith,” Eda finally said.

Lilith nodded.

Amity and Luz saw the fight beginning to die down, and they bolted for the stairs leading to the top of the portal machine. Amity looked at Luz seeing her desperately carrying the papers in her hands. They fluttered in the rushing wind. Sweat beads were manifesting on Luz’s forehead with her breathing becoming strained with every time she exhaled, her breath came out in a sharp hiss.

“You did have our Plan B if something goes wrong, right?” Luz asked Amity.

Amity nodded. She rustled through her pockets and withdrew a small box. They got to the top of the stairs and paused to catch their breath. “Alright, you start putting the glyphs down, and I’ll keep watch.”

Luz nodded. As she turned, the breath was nearly kicked out of her lungs.

“Luz!” Amity held out her hand on instinct. Luz grabbed onto the rim of the stairs and was dangling over one of the vaults containing the boiling metal. The liquid metal sizzled and popped. Luz could hear the muffled screams of terror coming from the souls of the suffering witches.

Kikimora stood by the place where Luz fell and watched her dangling from the edge. Amity got on her knees to make attempts of grabbing Luz’s hand, but the little pint-sized demon was blocking her way.

“Go out of the way you foul creature, are you mad?”

Kikimora spoke with disinterest. “I will not allow you or your friend to intrude on Emperor Belos’ plans.”

Amity strained harder to grab a hold of Luz, but Kikimora swatted her hand away. Luz’s fingers were desperately trying to hold on for dear life, but tiredness was beginning to take hold. Invisible needles were pressing into her digits. The need to clinch her fingers became ever tempting, but she struggled against fate. Kikimora took her foot and stepped on Luz’s left hand. Luz grinded her teeth to keep herself from screaming.

Amity scowled her eyes flaring up. “Emperor Belos lied to you! Can’t you see that he is wanting to destroy the Boiling Isles?”

Kikimora looked at her with her one visible eye. “What are you saying?”

“It’s true!” Luz shouted, “Emperor Belos lied about everything; the Titan; the Day of Unity; he’ll destroy us all if we do not do anything about it!”

Kikimora slowly lifted her foot much to the human girl’s relief. Kikimora cupped her chin between her two fingers pondering. It seemed to be hours, but the two girls had their rest assured that the demon lady would reconsider.

“Even if that is the truth behind my master’s plans, he is my master nonetheless.”

Push.

Luz looked down and saw Kikimora fall past her. She instinctively darted her eyes away once Kikimora was obscured by a pillar of smoke coming from the sizzling concoction. Deciding the worse was over, Luz saw Kikimora’s white-golden robes on the surface of the metal before it sank underneath. At that moment, Luz completely lost her grip and fell towards the burning liquid.

“Luz!”

Luz closed her eyes to accept her fate, but she felt herself stop. Looking up, the Owl Spy had her and pulled her up. “You have no idea how long I wanted to do that.”

Luz was helped back on her feet, her breathing becoming heavier. Amity ran and embraced her. Luz’s cheeks became red. “You’re crushing me, Amity.”

“Oh...oh right, sorry,” Amity chuckled embarrassingly.

The Owl Spy saw more of Belos’ minions running up the stairs. “I believe now is time for that Plan B.”

Amity took the box running to the top of the stairs. The stairs were shaking from the combined weight. She angled the box just right and with a controlled breath, she tossed it. It landed on one of the furthest stairs and opened. The guards stopped in their tracks.

“What in Titan’s name?” one guard said.

“I’m gonna see what it is,” guard number two said.

“Might be one of those magic bombs.”

Despite the urgency in the first guard’s voice, the guard went to pick it up. However, the box was glued on the stair. He grunted every pull becoming more stressful on his back. Eventually, something oozed from underneath it. “Oh my...”

The box ripped open revealing some large, amoeba-like monster. It jiggled and shifted. Eyes were all over its gelatinous mass alongside mouths and pseudopodia. It wheezed and folded in of itself measuring around fifteen feet across. But most unappealing of the massive beast, it could form organs of varying size and shape without appearing to have the mental contingency to do so. Nevertheless, it slithered down the stairs as a writhing wall of eyes, mouths, and protrusions.

The guards fired shots into the beast, but they merely were absorbed by the pulsating walls. Protrusions reached out and wrapped around several of the guards’ legs to draw them into their gaping mouths. There were struggles coming from the guards, but the plunging pressure coming from the beast was too great.

The Owl Spy turned to his daughter. “Alright; so I will have to return to Emperor Belos to report on what’s going on; but first, I will give you the directions to find Edric.”

Amity agreed non-verbally. She and her father ran past the rampaging Shoggoth. Amity saw her Abomination while it was still in the process of clobbering the minions. It looked at the Shoggoth with a wide expression, its movement becoming stiff. If Abominations actually had hearts, Amity’s would assuredly be skipping a beat. Amity waved her hand, but that was not enough to stir his attention.

“So now you get to know how I feel nearly every day,” Amity thought to herself.

#owl house #the owl house #owl house fanfiction #cthulhu mythos #hooty #toh hooty

4 notes · View notes

pinnithin-writes · 4 years

Text

Good Jokes

Chapter 3

Gordon had become increasingly protective of Tommy as the day went on, which would be sweet if it wasn’t ridiculously unnecessary.

The team reached an area equipped with automated defenses, steel paneled rooms studded with turrets that fired off rounds indiscriminately. Apparently Black Mesa’s heat seeking technology wasn’t refined enough to differentiate between friend and foe. Or maybe no living soul was allowed in this part of the facility regardless of planar origin.

Either way, they were all getting shot at.

They took cover, shielding themselves from the popcorn of gunfire. Tommy tucked himself behind a wooden crate, content to wait it out, when he heard hollering from the other side of the room.

“Tommy!” It was Gordon, lying flat on his belly around a corner. He was panting, curly hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, adrenaline making his dark eyes wild. “Get out of the open!”

Tommy tried his best to make the short sprint across the room not look like a stroll. Once he was out of firing range, he stood against the wall and tucked his hands in the pockets of his lab coat. Gordon was still prone, popping the occasional stray alien with the pistol in his hand. He passed Tommy an incredulous look, and Tommy was only able to stare back mildly.

It wasn’t that Tommy was hiding the fact that bullets had no effect on him, exactly. He just figured Gordon was already dealing with enough already without Tommy adding, “hey, by the way, my dad is a god and I inherited his power,” on top of it. Didn’t want to break the guy’s brain any more than it already was today.

Lamely, he tried lightening the mood. “It’s okay, the turrets can’t hurt you,” Tommy said, gunfire crackling around them. “It's part of our… turret-ing test.”

Nailed it. Puns were good sometimes, right? Gordon had been chuckling at his silly rhymes a few minutes earlier. Maybe a pun would land.

“I don’t know what you just said to me!” Gordon shouted over the noise, twisting to fire off a round at an advancing creature.

Tommy sighed and casually jammed the turret with a subtle wave of his hand. This afternoon was way too loud. He needed a break. Five minutes of silence. Please. The gunshots died.

When the coast was clear, Gordon clambered to his feet and the rest of the group emerged from their respective positions of shelter. They gathered in the room together, casting wary glances at the automatic rifle bolted to the wall.

Gordon flicked a questioning look to Bubby, who had so far shown the most initiative in their endeavors aside from Gordon himself. “Did you deactivate it?” he asked.

The other scientist just shrugged and made a noncommittal sound before excusing himself to investigate the surrounding area with Dr. Coomer. Tommy, seeing the concern on Gordon’s face, tried once again to reassure him that they were safe. Give him a little peace of mind while still keeping it vague. He wanted to iron that troubled wrinkle out of his forehead.

“It can’t hurt you if you’re smart,” Tommy told him, the words falling out of his mouth without a real plan. “That’s… why we’re all scientists…”

Oh, no. Too vague. Gordon, apparently misinterpreting his nonchalance for ignorance, turned his anxious stare on Tommy. And then he was raising a gloved hand toward Tommy’s face. And then, oh god, he was cupping Tommy’s cheek, locking eyes with him intently.

“Buddy, buddy, buddy, buddy,” Gordon told him. “That’s not how that works. That’s not how that works.”

Tommy’s pulse was running a marathon under his skin. He couldn’t look away. Gordon’s eyelashes were… so long. He and Gordon both were flecked with blood and alien guts, surrounded on all sides by enemies, and all Tommy could do was stare. Why was he fixated on this, why was he like this? He could cruise through a room riddled with crossfire no problem but he froze when the new guy touched him?

Gordon dropped his hand to Tommy’s shoulder, gripping him firmly, still pinning him in place with those dark, fervent eyes. “I need you to preserve yourself,” he went on seriously. “I need you to keep yourself safe, so that you don’t-”

Tommy frantically interrupted Gordon before any more words could come marching out to shock his brain. “This is the Turing test room,” he blurted, reiterating his earlier pun. “The turret ing test room.”

The record in Gordon’s head skipped for a second before he caught the joke and began snickering. He released Tommy to cover his hand with his mouth as he shook his head. Tommy relaxed an infinitesimal amount. Crisis averted.

Bubby, who had returned and was hovering nearby, sent Tommy a cool look before turning his attention to Gordon. “I found a present for you,” he said, beckoning him toward an adjacent room.

Gordon’s head snapped up. “The gun?”

He followed the old man out of the sector with the turret, and Tommy, red-faced, had to take a second alone to calm his racing heart. That was… a lot. It made sense; Gordon himself was a lot. But Tommy hadn’t expected to be so utterly blindsided by the exchange. He drew in a deep breath, let it out slow.

Gordon Freeman was a passionate, caring guy who would have insisted any idiot running through a sheet of bullets should keep themself safe. And he was so wired on stress, maybe he would have clutched at anyone’s face to drive his point home. Tommy had a feeling that wasn’t the case, though, and it scared him as much as it thrilled him.

He composed himself and rejoined the group. Benrey, lounging unhelpfully on a crate in the corner, caught his eye when he entered the room. He sneered and made a jerking off motion. Classy.

---

Things got easier for Tommy once they gave him a Glock.

He hadn’t used one of these in a while, but he remembered the rudimentary training they gave him when he took his position in the Anomalous Materials department. Bullets paled in comparison to spontaneous combustion in terms of alien elimination, but they got the job done. Pulling the trigger and feeling the kick in his hand was incredibly satisfying.

It also felt good to charge ahead at the front of the group, firing off rounds at blinding speeds. Punching bullets through the monsters that lurched toward them was an excellent way to burn off some of the pent up anxiety he had been collecting. He watched sickly green gore spatter the wall as he picked off another one. Cheaper than therapy, he thought wryly. They were… all going to need therapy after this.

Tommy had to admit the admiration his marksmanship drew from Gordon was equal parts gratifying and hilarious. He might as well have been playing hopscotch in the middle of an air raid. Tommy could snap his fingers and immolate these beings instantly if he really wanted to. Freeze the blood solid in their veins. But he wasn’t a showoff, so he accepted the man’s compliments by chalking it up to instinct, keeping his head down and playing the mortal game with a mortal weapon.

At one point, he peeled off from the group to neutralize one of the lumbering beasts they were being accosted by, leaving his colleagues high up on a catwalk and out of danger. It should have been an easy shot for Tommy, but Gordon’s protective streak was apparently a mile long, and he scrambled down to his level to attack the creature with the crowbar. Tommy watched him, bemused, as he took out the alien on his behalf. So brave. So utterly pointless.

He flicked his wrist and winked Gordon out of there, carefully depositing him back up on the catwalk. Faintly, he heard Bubby utter a bewildered, “how did you do that?” to an equally puzzled Gordon and let out a private chuckle to himself.

They eventually reached a cafe of sorts, and after they cleared the room of monsters, Tommy set to brewing up drinks from the machine on the wall. Coffee was good. He always felt he operated at a little slower pace than the steady sprint of time, and caffeine tended to catch him up with everyone else. The other scientists, thoroughly wiped, settled down on the floor to catch their breaths and slow their racing hearts.

Sitting in a circle, mugs in hand, they talked. Grounded themselves in some normalcy. Got to know each other a bit. Benrey was nowhere to be seen, off somewhere doing whatever it was that shithead entities did, which made the flow of conversation infinitely smoother. Tommy sipped the house blend, listening to Gordon as he led the discussion, prompting the team with questions about their homes, their families.

His mouth really never stopped, did it? Gordon had been pelleting them with words ceaselessly almost the entire day; one would think he’d need a break eventually. It was nice that he was curious about his colleagues, though. The fact that the group consisted of a lab experiment, a clone, and a demigod made conversation a little tricky, but Gordon’s genuine interest and concern for each of their lives was lovely.

Tommy learned that Bubby did, in fact, possess a sense of humor, catching Gordon with a zinger about friendship that was as touching as it was mean. Dr. Coomer had his own jokes, too, and Tommy just about snorted into his coffee when he declared, “I had a wife, but they took her in the divorce.” These guys weren’t bad, Tommy decided. Just a little unhinged.

And then Gordon’s attention was on him. “How ‘bout you, Tommy? Where are you from?”

He was from here, of course. Well, technically, he was from all over. His father had made sure Tommy took in a wide range of experiences as he grew up, but he always returned to Black Mesa like a homing pigeon in the end. While the facility had its flaws, the New Mexico wilderness that surrounded it was beautiful. Tommy loved the desert, and he liked to think the desert loved him back.

How did Tommy put something like that into words? How did he explain to Gordon that his only family was an ageless, supernatural being with the ability to bend time and space to his will, and a golden retriever? Coffee steamed in his face as his brain disconnected from his mouth.

“I don’t know, I’m an orphan,” he answered, haltingly. Then, because that was a fucking depressing lie, he cheerfully added, “but I have a dog!”

Gordon, caught off guard, let out a startled laugh. God, those dimples were just stunning. “What’s your dog’s name?” he asked.

“Sunkist,” Tommy answered fondly.

He had no reservations about sharing his dog with the man sitting across from him. He loved Sunkist, and he imagined Sunkist would like Gordon if they ever met. He could already picture the guy’s cheerful smile as he patted the retriever’s head. Good dog. Best friend.

“You named your dog after a soda?” Gordon asked, still grinning outright. “You really like soda, huh, bud?”

He briefly squeezed a hand on Tommy’s knee, and his stomach did a funny swoop like it was on the end of a yo-yo. Tommy blankly held Gordon’s expectant stare for a while and then realized he hadn’t answered.

“Yeah,” was all he could come up with in response.

He sure did like soda. Helped him see faster. That was a thing he had said today. Tommy had said a lot of things today. He was usually a man of few words, but Gordon got him talking, pulled the dialogue right out of him, whether it made sense or not.

And hell, he wanted to keep talking, which was a new feeling for Tommy. He wanted to keep sitting here on this grimy tiled floor and drink coffee and shoot the breeze with this little ragtag team all afternoon. When it was time to move on, he was reluctant to get going.

The apocalypse, however, waits for no one. So he went.

---

Further along in their road trip through hell, Tommy’s father made an appearance. His haunting visage materialized down a hallway, the air shimmering and warping around him like a desert mirage. Nobody really noticed he was there, but Tommy saw him. He always did.

It was later than he expected; Tommy had hoped his father would have found him hours ago to fill him in on what was happening, but that, apparently, was not his plan. His swirling eyes met Tommy’s from where he stood a few yards away. The crimson security lights made him look ghoulish. He didn’t say anything.

Tommy wordlessly jerked his thumb toward the team of scientists he had been tagging along with. Raised an eyebrow. These guys have anything to do with it? his motions asked.

His father tipped his chin back and passed a glance to the distracted team, then back to Tommy. He gave a solitary nod.

Tommy pointed to himself. And me?

He smiled like a bobcat on a moonless night. You are exactly where you need to be.

Tommy sighed. His dad was playing chess again. Odds were he knew far more about the Resonance Cascade than he let on, and was choosing to leave Tommy in the dark to further whatever ends he had in mind. Tommy didn’t exactly resent him for it - possessing cosmic knowledge would probably make anyone’s parenting style a little strange - but he’d appreciate at least a hint about what was happening.

Gordon suddenly pulled up beside him, shining his flashlight directly into his father’s face. The man just eyed him back silently, unaffected by the harsh beam of light. Tommy watched Gordon’s gaze focus disbelievingly on the mirage in front of him.

“Who’s this?” he asked.

“What?” Bubby called distantly. He was working on an exit door further down the hall, trying in vain to bust it open while Coomer hooked his fists at the deadbolt.

“The guy in the suit,” Gordon clarified. He gave a concerned look to Tommy. “You see that, right?”

Still clutching his flashlight, he was glancing back and forth between Tommy and his father, grasping at a shred of assurance that he wasn’t completely losing it. Tommy looked back at him pityingly. He wanted desperately to explain things to Gordon, to tell him that there was a plan, to offer his hand in an act of trust.

But his father was staring at both of them wolfishly, and he bit down on his words. Later, perhaps. When Tommy himself felt he had a firm enough grasp on the situation to relay it to Gordon accurately.

Tommy shook his head. It felt like he was slapping Gordon across the face.

Bubby, impatient, scoffed, “What are you talking about? Open the door.”

Gordon ripped his attention away from the shimmering man in front of him. “It’s locked, bro,” he called, and he left Tommy’s side to do damage control. “You can’t - stop. Don’t shoot it open.”

The fact that Tommy’s father had revealed himself willingly to Gordon indicated that he was a person of interest to him. Knowing how he operated, Tommy deduced that this could either be very good or very, very bad. He gave the man a tight-lipped smile. Good to see you, dad.

His father winked. Keep him safe.

I was already doing that, Tommy wanted to argue, but his father was warping out of the room, leaving him to handle the consequences of a dimensional rift on his own. Tommy rubbed his temples with his fingertips. Back to the chessboard.

Chapter 2 <-----> Chapter 4

#ink #fanfiction #good jokes #part of my endeavor to relocate all my ao3 work #guns #violence #hlvrai

3 notes · View notes