#industrial carpet steam cleaner

[evscleaningservices]

EVS Facility Solutions is a company that specialise in offering cleaning and maintenance solutions to a wide range of industries. These including Industrial, commercial, building and domestic.

At EVS Facility Solutions we pride ourselves on providing exceptional service, outstanding customer care and 100% reliability, with Essex County Council, NHS, HSCB and Bellways Homes as just some of our well-known clients.

Call on 07956 407768 or 01277 373303

to find out more information about what services we can offer or contact us https://www.evscleaning.co.uk/

[alwaysgreenclean]

How Clean Carpets Contribute to a Productive Work Atmosphere

A clean workplace environment plays a critical role in fostering productivity and maintaining employee morale. One often-overlooked aspect of office cleanliness is the condition of the carpets. Commercial carpet cleaning ensures a healthier, more pleasant workspace, positively influencing the work atmosphere and overall efficiency. Let’s explore how clean carpets contribute to workplace productivity.

Promote Healthier Indoor Air Quality

Carpets in commercial spaces act as filters, trapping dust, allergens, and bacteria over time. Without regular cleaning, these pollutants can accumulate and negatively affect air quality. Poor air quality can lead to allergies, respiratory issues, and fatigue, reducing employee productivity. Professional commercial carpet cleaning removes these harmful particles, ensuring a cleaner and healthier environment that supports focus and efficiency.

Reduce Employee Sick Days

Dirty carpets are a breeding ground for germs and bacteria, which can contribute to illness. By investing in regular commercial carpet cleaning, you eliminate these risks, reducing the likelihood of employees falling sick. A healthy team is a more productive team, and clean carpets play a key role in maintaining workplace wellness.

Enhance Comfort and Morale

A clean office is a comfortable office. Stains, odors, and visible dirt on carpets can create an unpleasant environment, leading to distractions and discomfort. Commercial carpet cleaning keeps carpets fresh, odor-free, and visually appealing, helping employees feel more comfortable and motivated to perform at their best.

Create a Professional Appearance

A clean and organized workplace inspires confidence and professionalism. Dirty or worn carpets can make an office appear unkempt and negatively affect the morale of employees who spend their days in that environment. Regular commercial carpet cleaning ensures your workspace looks professional and polished, boosting employee pride and engagement.

Minimize Stress and Distraction

Clutter and dirt in the workplace can be a source of stress and distraction. Employees are more likely to stay focused in a clean and well-maintained environment. Commercial carpet cleaning eliminates the visual clutter caused by stains or discoloration, creating a space that supports concentration and productivity.

Address High-Traffic Areas for Consistency

High-traffic areas in commercial spaces often show wear and tear faster, creating inconsistencies in the appearance of your carpets. This can lead to a sense of neglect in the workplace. Professional carpet cleaning restores these areas, ensuring a uniform and well-maintained look throughout the office, which fosters a sense of pride among employees.

Protect Employee Safety

Carpets that are not regularly cleaned can develop mold, mildew, or slippery surfaces from spills. These pose safety risks to employees and visitors. Commercial carpet cleaning eliminates these hazards, creating a safer work environment where employees can perform their tasks without concerns for health or accidents.

Show Employees You Care

Maintaining clean carpets demonstrates that you value your employees’ well-being and comfort. A clean workplace sends a message that their health and productivity matter, boosting morale and encouraging a stronger work ethic.

Commercial carpet cleaning is an essential investment in creating a productive and positive work atmosphere. By promoting health, comfort, and professionalism, clean carpets contribute to a space where employees can thrive and perform at their best. Schedule routine carpet cleaning to elevate your workplace environment and support productivity.

[firstdeepclean]

The Role of Commercial Carpet Cleaning in Preserving High-Traffic Business Areas

1. Why High-Traffic Areas Demand Extra Care

In commercial spaces, high-traffic areas like lobbies, hallways, and meeting rooms experience heavy daily use. This constant wear leads to dirt accumulation, matting, and discoloration, which can quickly diminish the professional appearance of your business. Commercial carpet cleaning is essential to address these challenges, ensuring these spaces remain inviting and well-maintained.

2. How Commercial Carpet Cleaning Protects Carpet Fibers

Foot traffic grinds dirt and debris into carpet fibers, causing them to fray and lose their texture over time. Without routine cleaning, this damage can become permanent. Commercial carpet cleaning removes the embedded particles that contribute to fiber breakdown, preserving the durability and softness of your carpets in high-use zones.

3. Restoring the Appearance of High-Traffic Areas

Even the most beautiful carpets can look worn and tired if left unchecked in busy areas. Stains, dirt, and grime accumulate quickly in spaces like reception areas and conference rooms. Professional commercial carpet cleaning restores the original color and vibrancy of carpets, giving your business a polished and professional look.

4. Improving Safety in High-Traffic Zones

Dirt buildup and wear can create uneven surfaces, increasing the risk of slips and falls in high-traffic areas. Commercial carpet cleaning not only keeps carpets looking great but also ensures they remain safe and functional. Clean carpets provide a stable surface for employees and customers, reducing the likelihood of accidents.

5. Enhancing Indoor Air Quality with Commercial Carpet Cleaning

High-traffic areas trap more allergens, dust, and pollutants than less-used parts of your business. These contaminants can negatively impact indoor air quality, especially in spaces where customers and employees gather. Regular commercial carpet cleaning eliminates these irritants, creating a healthier and more comfortable environment.

6. Extending the Lifespan of Carpets in High-Use Spaces

Replacing carpets in high-traffic areas is expensive and disruptive. Regular commercial carpet cleaning protects your investment by preventing premature wear and extending the life of your carpets. Routine care ensures your business maintains a professional appearance while saving money on costly replacements.

7. Why Professional Commercial Carpet Cleaning Is Essential for High-Traffic Areas

While vacuuming helps with surface dirt, it can’t address the deep-seated grime and wear caused by heavy use. Professional commercial carpet cleaning uses advanced methods like steam cleaning and eco-friendly solutions to deep clean carpets, ensuring they look and perform their best even in high-traffic zones.

Conclusion: Keep High-Traffic Areas Looking Their Best

High-traffic areas are the heartbeat of your business, and their condition reflects your company’s values. Commercial carpet cleaning ensures these spaces remain clean, safe, and welcoming for employees and customers alike. By prioritizing regular maintenance, you protect your investment, improve safety, and maintain a professional image that leaves a lasting impression.

[kigtuae]

Elevate Your Cleaning Standards with Kaddah International’s Tailored Solutions

Maintaining a clean and hygienic environment is crucial for any business, whether it’s a bustling office, a retail store, or an industrial facility. But with diverse cleaning needs and challenges, finding the right products and services can be a daunting task. That’s where Kaddah International General Trading LLC steps in, offering a range of tailored cleaning solutions designed to meet the specific demands of your business.

Why Customized Cleaning Solutions Matter

Every business is unique, and so are its cleaning requirements. A one-size-fits-all approach rarely delivers the results needed to maintain high standards of cleanliness. By opting for customized cleaning solutions, you ensure that every aspect of your facility’s cleanliness is addressed, leading to a safer, more appealing environment for employees and customers alike.

What Kaddah International Brings to the Table

At Kaddah International, we understand that different businesses have different cleaning needs. That’s why we offer a range of services and products that can be tailored to fit your exact requirements:

Comprehensive Product Range: We provide everything from industrial-grade cleaning machines to specialized chemicals, all sourced from leading global brands. Whether you need powerful vacuum cleaners, efficient floor scrubbers, or eco-friendly cleaning agents, we’ve got you covered.

Expert Floor Restoration: Over time, floors can become worn and dull, detracting from the overall appearance of your space. Our floor restoration services are designed to bring your floors back to life. Using advanced techniques like grinding, polishing, and sealing, we can restore the shine and durability of your floors, extending their lifespan and enhancing their look.

Customized Cleaning Plans: No two businesses are the same, so why should your cleaning plan be? We work closely with you to develop a cleaning strategy that fits your specific needs and budget. Whether it’s daily maintenance, a weekly deep clean, or a specialized service for high-traffic areas, we tailor our approach to ensure your facility is always in top condition.

Reliable Supply of Cleaning Chemicals: Our range of cleaning chemicals is selected for their effectiveness and safety. We provide solutions that are tough on dirt but gentle on surfaces and the environment, helping you achieve the highest standards of hygiene without compromising safety.

Partner with Kaddah International for Unmatched Cleanliness

Choosing Kaddah International General Trading LLC means partnering with a company that prioritizes quality, reliability, and customer satisfaction. Our tailored cleaning solutions ensure that every aspect of your facility’s cleanliness is taken care of, allowing you to focus on running your business.

Ready to elevate your cleaning standards? Contact us today to learn more about our customized cleaning solutions and how we can help you maintain a pristine and hygienic environment. With Kaddah International by your side, you can trust that your cleaning needs are in expert hands.

[ang3lc]

3 ⋮ FNG

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ꕀ♱ꕀ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

7.23.22 - 1143

The hotel room felt like a holding cell disguised as comfort. Beige walls, beige carpet, beige furniture—the place looked like someone had tried to save money by shopping for the most uninspired options available. A faint smell of industrial cleaner and something vaguely floral clung to the air, leaving an antiseptic sharpness in my nose. The bedspread, patterned with muted geometric shapes, screamed early 2000s nostalgia, but not the good kind. 

I dropped my duffel on the bed, the springs squeaking in protest, and surveyed my temporary prison. No orders. No updates. Just waiting. My job was often like this—quiet stretches of tedium punctuated by bursts of chaos. But this particular stretch of quiet was gnawing at me. The unknowns about the mission swirled in my head, each unanswered question more frustrating than the last. 

"One hell of a start," I muttered, kicking off my boots and tossing them by the door. The thud echoed briefly in the otherwise silent room. 

The first thing I did was shower. The bathroom wasn't much better than the room—a cramped space with dingy white tiles and a warped mirror that distorted my reflection at the edges. I turned the shower knob to its hottest setting, waiting for steam to rise, but the water barely made it past lukewarm. 

The spray hit my skin in uneven bursts, but I stood under it anyway, letting the tepid water wash away the film of airport sweat and grime. My hair clung to my scalp, plastered down in thick, wet strands, as I worked shampoo into my roots. The simple act of scrubbing felt grounding, almost meditative. 

I leaned my forehead against the cool tiles, water streaming down my face as my thoughts spiraled. Who were these people I was about to work with? What kind of mission required this much secrecy? Was I walking into something I wasn't ready for? 

The bathroom filled with the faint scent of cheap soap as I rinsed the last of the suds from my hair, the water trickling down the drain with an almost hypnotic rhythm. I can't allow myself to be human in this line of work; I'd be down in the gutter before I could count to three. Doesn't matter, I reminded myself. Stick with it.

After drying off with a towel that was more scratchy than soft, I pulled on an old pair of sweats and a loose t-shirt. The fabric clung uncomfortably to my damp skin as I brushed through my dark hair and stepped back into the main room.

The sun did its best to break through the thick curtains, but to no avail. The space was dim and flipping through the TV channels proved to be as uninspiring as the rest of the room. Home renovation shows featuring overenthusiastic couples arguing about countertops. Reruns of Friends with jokes that hadn't aged well. A game show where contestants embarrassingly misidentified pop hits from the early 2000s. 

I settled on the game show, not because it was good, but because it was the least mind-numbing option. The canned laughter eventually fell to static in the background after a few hours or so. I grabbed my phone off the nightstand, laid down, and started scrolling. 

Stale group chats. Generic memes on Instagram. News articles. Spam emails promising discounts I didn't care about. Nothing to distract me from the oppressive quiet.

Just as I was about to toss the phone aside, it buzzed in my hand.

The screen lit up: Carlos calling.

I swiped to answer and sat up to lean back against the headboard. "Carlos," I said, unable to keep the small smile out of my voice. "How y'doin'?" 

"Bea!" His voice was so loud and cheerful it felt like he was in the room with me. "Where the hell did you go? Witness protection or something?"

I laughed lightly, feeling some of the tension in my chest ease. "'f anythin', 'm prob'ly more likely to put someone in witness protection," I chuckled. "But somethin' like that. Just got yanked into somethin' new. Y'know how it is."

"Yeah, totally. Oh wait- Leon's here too," Carlos said, his voice muffled briefly before another familiar voice chimed in.

"Bea! You're alive!" Leon's tone was light, with just a hint of teasing. "So, what's with the cryptic Houdini act?"

I hesitated, staring at the beige wall as I chose my words. "Can't really say. Actually don't even know much. 'M just...waitin' for now."

Carlos snorted. "Cryptic as hell. You good, though? You sound...off."

"Yeah, 'm good," I lied smoothly, though the knot in my stomach said otherwise.

"Calling bullshit," Leon interrupted. "You're terrible at lying, Bea."

I sighed, running a hand through my still-damp hair. I had to assume everything about what I'm doing is classified. "'M just a little... antsy. Don't know what 'm about t'get into."

"Doesn't matter," Carlos said. "You're the Panther. You're top dog. You've got this."

I grimaced and cringed. "Hate when y'all call me that.." 

I could hear Leon chuckle in the background, he chimed in, "Oh come on! We've seen you pull off some crazy shit. This'll be a cakewalk for you."

I chuckled and rolled my eyes., feeling the tension in my chest ease a fraction. "Y'all are ridiculous."

"Yeah, but you love us for it," Leon said, his grin practically audible.

Carlos interrupted. "Yeah, Bea. Remember the time you had to hot wire that Humvee on the fly in the middle of fucking Iraq? How'd you learn to do that anyway?"

"That's a can o'worms you just don't wanna open." I said bashfully, trying to shut down the hype they were giving me.

The conversation drifted into lighter topics, touching on inside jokes and harmless teasing. They never let up. I said "fixin' to" and they drop it for 30 minutes. 

"If you could hear yourself," Carlos said, barely able to get the words out between laughs.

"Oh shut it," I shot back, rolling my eyes even though they couldn't see me.

Eventually the call came to an end and I tossed my phone aside. The afternoon sun was finally coming down and the long forgotten game-show was still running in the background, yet the room felt heavier, the lightness from their banter fading too quickly. I needed to move. The restless energy thrummed under my skin, and sitting still felt unbearable.

Dropping to the floor, I started with push-ups, counting off each one in my head. The muscles in my arms and chest burned, screaming for a break by the time I hit 60, but I kept going. Sit-ups came next, followed by planks and burpees. Sweat dripped down my face and onto the carpet as I pushed myself to exhaustion, each motion burning off a little more of my unease.

When I finally stopped, my chest was heaving, and my hands were trembling. I sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, letting my breath slow.  I got up and lugged myself back to the bathroom for another shower.

This time, I didn't care that the water was only lukewarm. It felt good against my overheated skin, washing away the sweat and replacing it with a sense of calm. The sound of the water, steady and rhythmic, drowned out the storm in my head, at least for a while.

Back in bed, the exhaustion hit me quickly, but sleep didn't come easy. My mind was still restless, thoughts flitting between the mission and the unknown faces I'd be working with. When I finally drifted off, the nightmares came fast.

The dream was jagged, a montage of half-formed memories and blurred faces.

My father's voice echoed, low and slurred, as he fumbled with his belt. A crash. A scream. My mother's blue face, the smell of gunpowder sharp in the air. The scene shifted, fragments colliding. The hollow sound of a shot, the thud of a body hitting the floor. My own cries drowned out by silence.

I woke up gasping, sweat sticking my shirt and the sheets to my skin. The hotel room was dark, save for the faint glow of the clock on the nightstand. 2:43 a.m. I pressed my hands against my face, grounding myself in the now.

"It's just a dream," I muttered, though the tightness in my chest said otherwise. It was a long time before I managed to fall back asleep. When I did, it was fitful, the shadows of the dream still lurking.

....

The morning light crept into the room through the curtains, painting the walls in muted yellows that did little to brighten the drab decor. My body felt sluggish as I blinked awake, the weight of the restless night still clinging to me. The clock on the nightstand read 9:47 a.m.—late, by my standards. The room was still and heavy with silence, broken only by the faint hum of the air conditioning unit chugging along in the corner. 

Rolling out of bed, I stretched, feeling the satisfying pull of tight muscles. My stomach growled, a low reminder of how long it had been since I'd eaten anything more substantial than a granola bar. Room service seemed like a small indulgence, but the idea of heading down to the lobby and facing the fake pleasantries of strangers wasn't appealing. I picked up the laminated menu from the desk and scanned the options. Pancakes, eggs, toast—the basics. I dialed the number, ordered a bit of everything, and sank into the chair by the window, letting my gaze drift across the parking lot below. It was weird and entirely unfamiliar to be somewhere so... normal. I had been practically living on bases for years. 

After some time, a knock came at the door, the smell of coffee and bacon was already seeping through the hallway. I opened the door to a young man in a surprisingly crisp uniform who wheeled in the tray with a polite smile, his movements practiced and efficient. The food was neatly arranged: fluffy scrambled eggs, toast cut into perfect triangles, syrup glistening on a stack of pancakes. I poured the coffee into a white ceramic cup and took a long sip, the bitter heat jolting me into full wakefulness. This was way better than expected given the room. I had a feeling that this was more than just a dingy motel. Thanks, Laswell.

After eating, I headed for the shower again to wash off the night terrors and the sweat and torment that came with it. The bathroom's mirror was still fogged from last night's use, a faint outline of my reflection visible in the glass. I turned on the water and let it get hot for a few moments. I stared at my reflection, looking at myself indifferently as if I wasn't even real. A large scar ran across my left eye, several on my lips and cheek. To me, it was unsightly. No wonder people do double takes when I walk by.  

The steam filled the room as I stepped under the spray, letting it wash away the stiffness from sleep. The scent of generic hotel soap filled the air, a clean but unremarkable smell that somehow felt comforting. Showers were a luxury I didn't take for granted. In the field, water was often scarce or cold, stolen moments of hygiene were wedged between long days of sweat and dirt... Sometimes mud or sand. The water rushed over my skin, pooling at my feet before swirling down the drain. 

I didn't know if I should wear my fatigues or my civvies. I opted for my fatigues and figured it was a better way to make good first impressions. I slipped on the camouflage pants and tucked my forest green shirt into the waistband. I tried to lose myself in the endless loop of hotel TV. The channels hadn't improved overnight. A cooking competition played on one, the dramatic music and over-the-top commentary that grated after ten minutes.

When my phone buzzed, the sound cut through the monotony like a lifeline. I grabbed it off the nightstand, seeing a random number on the screen. Swiping to answer, I pressed it to my ear. 

"Hello?", my voice steady.

Laswell's  tone was brisk and to the point. "Two men will be at your door in thirty minutes to escort you to the plane. Be ready and packed." 

"Yes, ma'am," I said automatically. She was probably using a burner.

The call ended before I could ask anything further. I set the phone down, the weight of her words settling over me. Thirty minutes. Plenty of time to throw everything back into my duffel, though I moved with purpose anyway, folding clothes and stashing toiletries with precision. I could hear my Drill Sergeants voice in my head from Basic Training yelling at me about how to pack.

Right on time, there was a knock at the door. I opened it up and two men in dark suits stood in the hallway, their expressions unreadable behind tinted sunglasses. "Ms. Dawson?" one of them asked, his voice low and professional.

"That's me," I replied, slinging the duffel over my shoulder. 

They nodded and led me downstairs and out to a sleek black car waiting at the curb. The ride to the airfield was silent, the only sounds the hum of the engine and the occasional rustle as one of the men shifted in his seat. The city blurred in the distance as we got closer to the private terminal I came from just a day ago.

When we arrived, the private plane was already waiting, its sleek white body gleaming in the sunlight. The stairs were down, and I could see two figures waiting at the top—Kate Laswell and John Price. 

I climbed the steps, my boots thudding softly against the metal, and nodded at them. "Ma'am. Sir." 

Price gave me a small smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "At ease, Soldier. No need for the formalities right now. Just Price will do." 

"Yes, si—Price," I corrected myself quickly, this habit would be so hard to break if this continues.

Laswell's gaze was sharp, but not unkind, as she motioned me to take a seat. The interior of the plane was immaculate, all leather seats and polished wood.

I settled into a seat across from him, glancing out the window as the engines roared to life.

"You're already a decorated Ranger," Price started, his tone casual but probing. "Air Assault, Jungle Warfare, Arctic Survival, 8 deployments... Silver Star... Hell, you've got more certifications than some of my guys." 

"Thank you," I said simply as I sat up straighter, not sure where he was going with this. 

"And..." He continued, "You killed Barkov."

"I did, Sir." I affirmed. That's how I got that stupid Silver Star.

"I was hunting him for a while. Glad someone got to him when I couldn't." Price gave me a genuine, yet controlled smile before returning to look at my file.

"Overqualified for most things," he continued, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Which is good. Means you're ready for whatever this is."

"I sure hope so," I said, my voice steady even as my mind raced.

"And the therapy?" Laswell interjected, her gaze sharp.

"I've been dealin' with it. It won't interfere, Ma'am." I responded firmly.

"Good. We don't babysit." she responded, seemingly satisfied.

After a few beats of silence, I turned my attention to Price and spoke up. "Who's your crew?"

Price promptly grabbed an accordion folder from his side as if he'd been waiting for me to ask. He opened it up and pulled out some files, sliding the first one to me.

"Sergeant Garrick. Kyle Garrick. They call him 'Gaz'."

I took the file, observing the picture of the man on the front before he pulled out another. 

"John Mactavish. SAS. Sniper- Demolitions. Goes by 'Soap'."

I sat back as he spoke and I eyed the file as he slid it toward me. "Why?"

"That's classified." 

I took the file and stacked it atop the other, making no attempts to argue with the Captain. Price pulled another file out and chuckled. 

"There he is," He tossed it in front of me with finality. "Simon Riley."

I sat up and looked at the file curiously before meeting Price's eyes. "There's no picture-"

"Never." He interrupted. "Now the rest comes if we determine that you can work with us."

I nodded the gravity of the situation settling deep in my bones. This wasn't just a field OP. This was a fucking coalition Taskforce with men that make Carlos and Leon look like they're fresh out of Basic. I glanced at the files once more before looking back to Price.

"What's your Taskforce called?" 

Price crossed his arms and sat back, a look of pride in his eyes, likely to the fact that this was entirely his. 

"141."

....

The rest of the plane ride passed in a blur as I absorbed everything I could from the files, the quiet hum of the engines a constant backdrop. Simon Riley—Ghost, SAS, British, Lieutenant, 6 foot 5... The man was a fucking war machine as far as I could tell. John Mactavish—Soap, the name was weird as fuck, but mine was Panther, so I couldn't say much. SAS, Scottish, Sergeant, 6 foot 2. Then there was Kyle Garrick—Gaz, also British, SAS, Expertise in target elimination, weapons tactics, covert surveillance...By the time I studied them all, I was sure I'd gone cross-eyed. 

By the time we landed at an airfield in what I guessed was Belarus—though I couldn't be sure—I felt more prepared, though still on edge. They were all Brits. Last time I worked with a British guy, I had to get someone to practically translate for me. Price and Laswell exited the plane first, their figures outlined against the dull gray sky. The chill of the airfield hit me, sharp and biting against my face as I stepped off the plane. Clouds hung low and gray, diffusing the light and casting everything in a dull, washed-out tone. My boots clattered against the metal stairs as I descended, the wind tugging at my hair. Standing near the edge of the tarmac were three men, their postures casual but their presence anything but.

The first one caught my eye immediately, mostly because of his mohawk. He had a boyish charm to him despite the hardened lines of his face, his grin quick and easy as his sharp blue eyes tracked my approach. His clothes were relaxed but practical—jeans, a plain shirt, and boots that looked like they'd been through more than a few scrapes. When I got closer, he tipped an imaginary hat and said, "John MacTavish, b'ye can call m'Soap." His Scottish accent was thick, the words tumbling out in a way that left me scrambling to decipher them. They were giving me their full names. Back at base we just toss out our last names and keep it going. 

I managed a polite nod, offering a terse, "Dawson." His grin widened, and I wondered if he'd expected more. 

Next to him stood a tall figure whose presence was as imposing as his attire was understated. He wore a black hoodie and dark jeans, blending into the dreary surroundings, but his face—or what little of it I could see—was unforgettable. A balaclava stretched over his head, the skeletal outline of a skull painted across it. Only his eyes were visible, sharp and assessing beneath the fabric. He didn't speak immediately, just extended a gloved hand.

"Ghost," he said, his voice low and gravelly. 

I shook his hand, the contact brief and almost perfunctory. The mask unsettled me, though I kept my expression neutral. 

The last man seemed the most approachable, dressed in what could've been casual streetwear: a jacket, a t-shirt, and jeans, topped off with a baseball cap. His expression was calm, his brown eyes warm as he offered me a small smile. "Kyle Garrick," he said, his accent lighter and easier to follow than Ghost. Or really Soap's, for that matter. "Most call me Gaz." 

"Dawson," I said again, keeping it short. 

As I stood there, my eyes flicking between the three of them, everything felt... off. They didn't look like soldiers—not in the way I was used to. No fatigues. No rank patches. No insignias to give away who or what they were. Covered faces, hats and mohawks... I'd spent years surrounded by military structure, the hierarchy so ingrained it was second nature to clock someone's rank and unit at a glance and approach accordingly. Here, they just looked like three men who, albeit shredded, could've stepped off the street, and I was definitely out of place. 

And that's when it hit me. These weren't just Special Forces like I was Special Forces. They were Special Forces. The kind of guys whose faces you'd never see on the news because they were blurred out. The ones who didn't exist in the official reports. I'd been plucked from my comfort zone and thrown into something that felt leagues above what I was used to. But this was what I was trained for, wasn't it? I reminded myself of the certifications, the grueling schools, the endless hours of preparation. I was ready. 

"Shall we?" Price's voice cut through my thoughts, and I followed the group inside the nearby building. The interior was all business: gray walls, functional lighting, and the faint hum of a heater somewhere in the background. We walked down a corridor and into a conference room with a large table at its center and chairs arranged neatly around it. 

Once we were seated, the real introductions began. 

"So," Soap said, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table. "Where exactly are ye from? 'Cause tha's one 'ell of 'n accent." 

It caught me off guard for a second. I knew my accent was noticeable to some Americans, but hearing it called out like that made me suddenly self-conscious. "Georgia," I said simply, but the single word drew a smirk from him. 

"Ah, we read that in the file," Gaz chimed in, his tone light. "Didn't quite expect it to sound like that, though." 

"Like what?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

"Like w'need subtitles," Soap said, grinning. 

The other two chuckled, and I felt my ears heat up, though I tried not to let it show. "Y'all ain't exactly easy t'understand either," I shot back, glancing at Soap. "'Specially you." 

His grin only widened. "What's th' problem? Ah'm speakin' plain English, Bonnie." 

"Sure you are," I muttered. "'N that's not my name."

At that, Gaz and Soap looked at each other as if they had some inside joke, their lips collectively pursing to hold back laughter. Ghost looked like he'd rather be anywhere but in the room. 

I didn't know what they were giggling about. Price had the bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers and Ghost was watching the two, and me, with ever observant hazel eyes. 

Gaz leaned back in his chair, his expression amused. "It'll uh-" He cleared his throat before trying to maintain some sort of professionalism. "... Take some getting used to, for both sides, I think." 

Price cleared his throat, bringing the room back to focus. "Right, 'nough of that."

As the conversation shifted, I couldn't help but glance at Ghost. I was trying to decipher the kind of man he was. Was he the 'large-and-in-charge' type, or the 'straight-up-asshole' type? The mask was he wore impossible to ignore. It wasn't just the look of it—it was the way he wore it like it was part of him, as natural as the rest of us wearing shirts. The question slipped out before I could stop myself. 

"What's with the mask?" 

His gaze shifted to me as if he knew I was already watching, and for a moment, I thought he might not answer. Then he said, simply, "To hide my face."

I blinked. "Well, sure, but... why?"

"To hide my face," he repeated, his tone flat, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

The corner of Soap's mouth twitched like he was trying not to laugh. Gaz just shook his head, clearly used to this kind of interaction. Defintely a straight-up-asshole.

Deciding to drop it, I focused instead on Gaz, who seemed the easiest to talk to. His voice was smoother than the others', his accent less pronounced, and he had an easy way about him that put me at ease. We chatted briefly about training and the differences between our experiences, though I still had to concentrate to catch everything he was saying. Soap chimed in occasionally, his words rapid-fire and impossible to follow at times.

By the end of the introductions, my head was spinning, not just from the accents but from the realization of what I was stepping into. These men were leagues beyond anything I'd experienced before. 

.....

The base had a weird vibe. The walls were all utilitarian gray, the kind of color that felt like it sucked the personality out of the place. There was a faint hum from the fluorescent lights overhead, and the air smelled like oil, metal, and... something earthy. Maybe it was the boots dragging dirt in or just the age of the place. Either way, it was sterile in some parts and oddly homey in others.

After the "introductions", I'd been told to "familiarize myself." That was it. No details, no specific instructions, just those two vague words. I wasn't sure if it meant the base or the people, but wandering around seemed like as good a start as any. 

Eventually, I stumbled into a kitchen. And when I say kitchen, I mean something that wouldn't have been out of place in a rundown apartment. Counters were scattered with mugs that didn't match, a few jars of instant coffee, and a box of cookies that looked like it had been forgotten halfway through a snack break. The fridge hummed in the corner, looking like it had seen better days. 

It wasn't what I'd expected in a high-stakes special forces base, but then again, nothing here was what I'd expected so far. Still, the sight of the fridge sparked a faint glimmer of hope. I walked over, tugged the door open, and leaned down to scan the shelves. Water bottles, leftovers in containers with no labels, some condiments shoved into the door—no surprises so far.

"Y'all got any tea in here?" I muttered under my breath, my voice barely louder than the fridge's hum. I didn't expect an answer. 

Which is why I nearly jumped out of my skin when I got one. 

"Tea? What're ye lookin' for tea in the fridge for?" 

I spun around so fast I nearly slammed the fridge door shut with my hip. Standing in the doorway, looking like he'd just walked out of a casual Saturday afternoon, was John? Johnny? Or Soap, as they called him, I couldn't figure out which to use. He leaned against the doorframe like he had all the time in the world, his arms crossed over a plain blue t-shirt that showed off  his forearms. His mohawk was a little messier under the kitchen lights, and of course, there was that trademark grin. 

I frowned, trying to tamp down the irritation at being snuck up on. "Yeah, I'm lookin' for tea. What of it?" 

Soap tilted his head, his grin widening like I'd just said the dumbest thing he'd ever heard. "Tea's not somethin' ye keep in the fridge, lass." 

I narrowed my eyes at him, gesturing to the open fridge like it was obvious. "Yeah, it is." 

He straightened up a bit, his grin slipping just enough to show he was genuinely confused. "What're ye sayin'?" 

Now it was my turn to stare at him like he was the dumb one. "Y'don't know what tea is? Are you kiddin' with me?" 

"I'm not!" he said, hands up like I'd pulled a gun on him. "Tea's tea, aye? Ye brew it hot, maybe add a wee splash o' milk, bit o' sugar if yer feelin' fancy." 

I blinked at him, my jaw slack. "What? No. That's not tea. That's..." I paused, searching for the words. "That's hot tea. Like... what y'drink when you're sick or somethin'." 

He recoiled like I'd just insulted his mother. "Sick? It's a bloody staple, tha's what it is!" 

"Well, where I'm from, tea is tea. Cold, brewed with enough sugar to make your teeth ache." 

The way he looked at me, you'd think I'd just told him I put ketchup on steak. "Yer serious?" 

"Dead serious," I said, crossing my arms. 

We stared at each other, the air thick with mutual disbelief. I couldn't tell if he was about to argue with me or just walk away shaking his head. Instead, he threw his head back and laughed, the sound bouncing off the walls like it had been bottled up for hours. 

I watched him, unimpressed, as he finally wiped his eyes. "Ach, tha' explains it," he said between chuckles. "Southern lass, aye? Aren't the lot of ye supposed tae be sweet? Should've known ye'd have yer own rules for somethin' simple like tea. " 

I raised an eyebrow, the irritation creeping into my voice. "If you're lookin' for 'sweet' outta me, you gon' be mighty disappointed. If I was fixin' to be nice, I would'a joined a book club, not the Army." 

Soap grinned like I'd just proved his point. "Aye, fair enough." 

We both stood there for a beat, the tension easing just enough for a smirk to tug at my lips. "You know," I said finally, glancing back at the fridge, "I think I'll take my chances and just make my own tea later. Whatever this place considers tea... I'm good." 

Soap chuckled again. "Aye, we'll get along just fine, Dawson. Once we figure out what the hell we're sayin' to each other." 

I shook my head, turning back to shut the fridge. "Yeah, good luck with that." 

Despite myself, I couldn't help but feel just a little less like an outsider. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

....

I spent some time making myself at home in the tiny, sparsely furnished quarters I'd been assigned. I wasn't surprised—it was a far cry from the usual military accommodations, but I wasn't exactly here for luxury. There wasn't much to unpack. Just the essentials: my kit, my clothes, and the few personal items I'd managed to bring along. A small cot sat in one corner, its mattress thin and creaky. There was a chair that looked like it belonged in a dentist's office and a desk with a few scattered papers and a lamp, but nothing much else.

I decided not to bother unpacking my duffel—just stashed it in the closet. The walls were bare, save for the faded insignia of the base. It smelled faintly of stale air, probably from disuse, and I didn't mind. It had been a while since I'd stayed anywhere that felt this... utilitarian.

With no one around to ask questions, I continued to explore a little. I didn't expect to find much, but it felt better than sitting still. I wandered through hallways, checking out the base. It wasn't big, but it was functional—something that could be packed up and relocated in a heartbeat. Eventually, I ended up in what looked like a gym—a decent-sized room with mats, machines, a few heavy bags, and weights scattered across the floor. It was quiet, except for the faint sound of weights clanking somewhere in the distance.

I continued walking and turned a corner and nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw Ghost standing there, leaning casually against the wall. The skull mask was just as unsettling in the dim light of the corridor as it had been earlier.

"Price wants you in his office," he said, his deep voice carrying a weight that made it clear this wasn't optional.

I nodded, following him silently as he led me through the base. He didn't say much, which wasn't surprising, but the air between us wasn't hostile. If anything, it felt calculated, like he was trying to get a read on me.

When we reached Price's office, Ghost opened the door and gestured for me to enter. Price was seated behind a desk cluttered with maps, papers, and a mug that I'd bet good money was full of tea.

"Sit," Price said, nodding to the chair across from him.

I sat down, and Ghost, instead of leaving, took a seat on the edge of the desk. It felt deliberate, like he was part of whatever conversation was about to happen.

"We've been going over your file," Price started, his tone steady but not unkind. "You're lethal on paper. Qualifications out the ass."

I stayed silent, waiting for the but I knew was coming.

"But," Price continued, "we need to see it for ourselves. Paper's one thing. Real life's another."

I raised an eyebrow. "So, what's the plan?"

"Skills check," Ghost chimed in, his face unreadable behind the skull mask.

"An hour from now," Price added, his eyes locking onto mine. "Head to the gym. Sparring first. Then we'll see how you handle weapons, close-quarters. We need to know you can keep up with the team."

I nodded, standing up. It was what I expected, honestly. Nothing I couldn't handle.

One hour later, I was in the gym with work out attire, stretching out and loosening my muscles on the mat. Soap and Gaz entered a few minutes later, looking ready to roll. Soap was grinning like he always did, while Gaz seemed more composed, his face a little harder to read. I threw a few jabs into the air, working on my technique, when Price came through the door. He glanced over at me, then turned to Soap.

"Let's see what she can do," Price said, and Soap gave a sharp nod, taking off his jacket.

"Ready to dance, lass?" Soap asked with a wink as he stepped to the center of the mat.

I rolled my neck, stretching out my shoulders. "Let's go."

We started with MMA, both of us moving around the mat, sizing each other up. Soap came at me fast, throwing jabs that I deflected with ease. He wasn't sloppy, though—each punch felt measured. I responded with a low kick to his thigh, then stepped in for a quick clinch. He tried to knee me in the ribs, but I blocked it and shifted my weight to take him down to the mat. I stayed on top for a second, keeping the pressure on, then he twisted out, using his leg to sweep me off balance.

The fight went back and forth like that—each of us landing solid blows, countering, and repositioning. Soap had quick reflexes, but I was used to handling someone who fought dirty. A few more exchanges, and I managed to lock him into a submission hold, straining until he tapped out, panting heavily.

"Not bad," Soap said, rubbing his neck with a grin. "Yer a tough one."

"Thanks," I replied, already sizing up Gaz as he moved into position.

Gaz and I started on jiu-jitsu. He was precise, working from a neutral stance. We moved into a series of sweeps, escapes, and joint locks. He kept trying to set me up with a few shoulder locks, but I was able to adjust, using my hips to break the hold before he could sink it in fully. Every time he adjusted, I did the same, matching his intensity.

I felt the sweat start to bead on my skin as we grappled, neither of us gaining an advantage. Finally, I managed to roll him into a top position, securing his wrist and pulling him into a quick submission. He tapped out, laughing a little as he rolled to his feet.

"Good," Gaz said with a nod. "You've got a hell of a grip."

I wiped the sweat from my forehead, breathing heavily. "You're not bad yourself."

We moved outside, where a range was set up for firearms testing. I grabbed the rifle that Price handed me, my hands naturally fitting around the grip. I went through the standard drills—standing, kneeling, prone—picking off targets with precision. The rifle felt smooth, as though it were an extension of my arm, and I was hitting bullseyes and headshots faster than I expected. I guess I work best while being watched by four men.

Ghost's gruff voice spoke authoritatively. "Move to the house."

I did, following his commands. My hands were steady, my mind focused. There was nothing distracting me. Just the target and the task.

I swiftly moved to a makeshift house setup outside, where cardboard cutouts of enemies popped up from behind walls. Ghost's voice crackled in my ear as I put the rifle down and got ready. I picked up a pistol and its magazine that was set on a table just outside the house. I popped the mag in and pulled back the slide and released. It snapped forward with a click and I knew the gun was locked and loaded. 

"Clean house. Time's critical. Go."

I dashed forward, entering the first room and immediately spotting a cardboard enemy behind a corner. I squeezed off two quick rounds, head and chest, then moved, clearing the room with smooth efficiency. Ghost kept barking orders via a megaphone, guiding me through each step, my feet barely touching the ground as I cleared the rooms. It was all instinct now—years of training, muscle memory.

By the time I finished, my heart was pounding, adrenaline still coursing through my veins. I walked out of the house, eyes focused.

"1 minutes and 13 seconds " Price said, his voice calm but there was an edge to it. He was impressed, and I could tell. 

The team exchanged glances, and Ghost gave a small nod. It was subtle, but it was there. I had proven myself.

...

The training session ended as the sun dipped below the horizon, leaving the air cool and crisp as night crept in. I was sore in places I didn't know existed, every muscle in my body aching from the relentless sparring and shooting drills. As I made my way back to my quarters, I felt the familiar buzz of exhaustion settling in, but my stomach growled louder than my fatigue. I hadn't had a real meal since I arrived, and all the energy I spent today made me ravenous.

I walked through the narrow hallways of the base and into the kitchen, hoping to scrounge up something to eat. As I opened the fridge, I squinted at the contents—the same as earlier. Definitely not what I had in mind.

I turned to the cabinets. Still nothing worth eating, just the usual dry goods and what I assumed. A sigh escaped my lips. "You guys got any MREs around here?" I muttered to myself.

"That's a no-go," came a voice from behind me. I spun around to see Gaz leaning casually against the doorway, arms crossed. He gave me a grin that seemed genuine. "Haven't had an MRE in like... three years. We eat actual food around here."

If one more guy snuck up on me in this damned base, I was gonna it blow up. "Oh." It didn't surprise me that they were eating better than the standard issue stuff. These were some of the best soldiers in the world, after all.

"Look," Gaz continued, walking over to the counter, "we're all heading out to a pub around the corner from here. You should come with us. Get some food, have a drink."

I raised an eyebrow. A pub? Maybe the guys were a little too comfortable around me. "Not really my vibe."

Gaz leaned against the counter with a grin that never seemed to leave his face. "You're coming. Come on, no excuses. You've been all business since you got here. Y'need to unwind."

I didn't answer immediately, just looked him over. I wasn't exactly in the mood to be social, but I was hungry, and honestly, I was starting to realize I might need to get along with these people if I wanted to be effective in whatever this group was. Plus, there was no point in staying holed up in my quarters.

With a grunt, I gave in. "Fine. But don't expect me t'start singin' on table tops or whatever the hell y'all do for fun."

He chuckled and nodded. "Deal. Just be ready in thirty."

I headed back to my quarters to shower and change. The water in the shower wasn't exactly warm, but it was enough to rinse off the sweat and grime from the day. I scrubbed my skin, trying to wash away the tension that had built up in my muscles. The soap smelled like cedarwood, something oddly comforting. It wasn't much, but it was enough to help me relax.

Afterward, I tossed on a black shirt, some jeans, a leather jacket I had stowed, and my boots. When I walked back out, the guys were already waiting outside—Soap, Ghost, Price, Gaz, and Laswell. It felt strange to be stepping out with them, like I was joining a team, even though I wasn't sure I was quite part of it yet.

We piled into a truck—Gaz took the driver's seat, and the rest of us settled in, all silent except for the occasional joke from Soap. I sat back, staring out the window, the streets unfamiliar and dull under the dim streetlights. I couldn't help but think about how much better it would feel to be on my bike, wind in my hair, engine roaring beneath me. It was the only way I really felt alive anymore. Out here in the field, everything felt stifling. Even this pub felt like it would be one more thing I was expected to conform to.

We got to the pub after a short ride. The building looked worn, nothing special, but I could tell it was the kind of place where everyone knew everyone, and I was just an unfamiliar face. The guys took their usual spots, settling into a back corner. Soap was already making jokes about something that had happened earlier in the day, and Price was giving him that look like, Not now, Johnny. Laswell, however, seemed more focused, scanning the room as she sipped on a drink.

I sat at the edge of the table, nursing a beer that definitely wasn't Bud Light, keeping mostly to myself. It wasn't that I didn't appreciate the offer of company—it was just... I wasn't used to being part of a group like this. They were a unit, seasoned and tight-knit, while I was still the new one. Sure I had Carlos and Leon back home, but we were just a clique, per se. They ended up asking me the usual questions, ones that I knew were meant to break the ice.

"So... Panther," Soap said, his Scottish accent rolling through the nickname like it was the most natural thing. "What's the story 'hind tha'?"

I froze mid-sip. Clearly, that was something I didn't talk about, at least not with strangers. I never chose it. It was a reminder of the things I'd been through. The long, brutal stretches of time spent in the Russian forests and the constant fight for survival. It wasn't just a name—it was a scar, a ghost of a past I didn't want to revisit. A branding.

I set my beer down a little too forcefully, then put on a passive aggressive smile. "That's a story for another time, bud." The words came out harsher than I meant them to.

Soap looked at me, eyebrows raised, clearly sensing my discomfort. "Alright, alright. We'll keep it light."

But my mind started to race, recalling the isolation and brutality I'd experienced. The memories of that bloodbath clawed at me, and I felt my breath quicken, chest tightening. I curtly excused myself before I could think about it further.

I pushed the front door open and leaned against the cold brick of the building. The air surrounding me nipped at my cheeks, goosebumps spreading over my skin as I tried to catch my breath. Moments later, Ghost appeared beside me like the very thing he was named after. His figure was nearly lost in the shadows of the streetlight, his tall frame imposing, even without him saying a word. There was no noise, no warning—just the sudden weight of his proximity.

He didn't speak, didn't even look at me as he reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a cigarette. Without a word, he flicked the lighter, the flame briefly illuminating the sharp angles of his face, the outline of his balaclava, and the faint glint of his eyes staring straight ahead. Then, he offered the cigarette to me, a silent invitation.

I hesitated for only a second, the instinct to refuse warring with the need for something, anything, to pull me out of my spiraling thoughts. I took the cigarette, our fingers brushing for the briefest of moments. I brought it to my lips, inhaling slowly, feeling the burn in my lungs. It wasn't the same as the sharp sting of adrenaline, but it was something—something that could fill the space between the chaos in my mind.

We stood there in silence, the world continuing on around us while we shared that smoke. The air was thick, not with words, but with something else—something unspoken that clung to both of us. His presence was suffocating, but not in a way that made me want to flee. No, there was a strange sense of comfort in the quiet, the understanding that neither of us needed to say anything to know what the other was thinking. We were soldiers. We both knew how to be silent.

The cigarette passed between us, each pull deepening the silence that stretched between us. The burn in my chest from the smoke was nothing compared to the ache that had been there all evening, lingering since I stepped into this world, a world that wasn't quite mine, and maybe never would be.

Finally, after what felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes, Ghost spoke. His voice was steady—too steady. It was almost monotone, without a hint of anything that could be construed as emotion. "You'll be a good asset."

I could feel the weight of those words settle over me. Not a compliment. Not a critique. Just... fact. Cold, hard fact. And yet, there was something in it that made me tense all over again. Something I couldn't quite put my finger on. Maybe it was the way he said it, like he already knew everything about me, like he could see the pieces I hadn't yet figured out. Maybe it was the implication that, in this world, there was no room for doubt. You either were or you weren't. And there was no time for anything else.

I nodded, but I couldn't shake the chill that had crept up my spine. "Thanks."

The air between us thickened again, and I could hear the hum of the streetlights above, the occasional car passing by in the distance. But it was almost like the world had fallen away—just the two of us, standing there, with nothing left but the burning tip of the cigarette that eventually flickered out in the night.

Before I could respond further, the door to the pub slammed open, and Laswell stormed out, her expression grim. "We just got intel on his movements."

Ghost snuffed out the cigarette under his boot and looked over at me, his eyes unreadable as ever. The others were already filing out, their faces hardened, all business now. I stood there, my stomach sinking. "Who the hell are y'all talkin' about?"

No one said a word as we headed back to the van. Whatever this was began to settle on all of us. Finally, Price took a final drag of his cigar before clipping the ashed end.

"Ivankov."

A/N: hope you guys liked the long chapter :) 8k words lol, next chapter is gonna blow your socks off

panther mlist

[assassinschaoticcreed]

I’m curious, what are your thoughts on each of the boys rooms? Like who is messy who is neat, what type of furniture/decor do they have, does anyone share a room?

Arno is definitely the most organized. I see Arno having furniture that is vintage.(specifically vintage french furniture to make it feel more like home since that was the theme of his childhood home) I feel like his room would smell like very much like books (if that makes sense) and mahogany teakwood. he has a little desk area for writing and a nook for reading. he is a big art fan so he has some paintings in his room, but they aren't giant or anything just the right size. has a little area for making coffee/hot chocolate (he's not a tea fan believe it or not) and under that area he has little snacks and stuff. he reminds me of those people you see on tiktok that have little cubbies and everything is VERY organized. but he doesn't have OCD, it's just pleasing to the eyes when everything has a place.

I see Ezio & Desmond sharing a room. they have modern furniture, it's sleek. Ezio definitely makes sure that (for some reason) he has like a backseat from a vintage car (its leather) used as a love seat (if you don't know what that is, it's basically a couch that sits 2 people idk why it's called that). their room smells like leather and cinnamon. Desmond has a loft bed, he thinks they're cool and demanded to have one, Ezio would never let Desmond go without. Ezio is more organized out of the two, shocking I know. but Desmonds work hours give him little to no energy, his side of the room also has a desk and on the chair sit his clean clothes while the dirty ones are in a pile a couple feet away from it. Ezio yells at him all the time to clean it up, he always promises he will--

Ezio: IS THAT MOLD GROWING ON YOUR SHIRT!?

Desmond: just some cheeto dust--

Ezio: Desmond, it's literally green not orange.

Desmond: oh...then maybe?

it wasn't, it was just the lighting and yes it was cheeto dust not mold. Ezio was being Ezio and over dramatic. Arno refuses to to into their room unless it's clean.

Ezios side of the room has a few vintage Italian pieces of furniture, he's always thought the Italian Renaissance had nice pieces of furniture. but it's only a few pieces along with 2 paintings leonardo made for him. he's also got a desk, but its for looks and he rarely uses it. they have all the gaming systems, Desmond uses them the most.

Connors room is very cozy, he has art work and furniture from some of the elders in his tribe. loves the carpets and blankets specifically. but rest of his furniture is cabin like and made of authentic trees (like freshly cut down looking trees). his room has an earthy/foresty smell but it's not over bearing, it's just enough that makes you feel like your near the woods. he has a desk he likes to journal at, he ofc writes in his native language not only so the others can't read it, but it makes him feel at home and closer to his people. likes to read and borrows books from Arno or asks for recommendations, and vice versa. they like to read in silence with one another's company a lot, that's how they bond. they like to discuss the books and even things they've written. Arno is learning Kanien'kéha or Kanyen'kéha while Connor is learning French.

Edward and Jacob share a room. they're both pigs, but like organized pigs. Jacob's side of the room is a little more cleaner than Edward's. Edward's side has furniture you'd see in a beach house but also authentic ship like furniture. very into the pirate look, he even sleeps in a hammock bolted into the ceiling. doesn't have art work per se, but hangs up a few different pirate flags. Jacob's side is industrial/steam punk like furniture. he likes the dark browns and golds. he has a few flags up too British flag and few that have trippy designs. their room smells specifically like the ocean/sea, again not strong but it's there. they've got bean bag chairs for sure, a few gaming systems nothing like Desmond & Ezio. they both like to game with Desmond (sometimes Ezio) from their respective rooms. they also like to listen to music a lot.

Altaïr has furniture that came from his childhood home. he sleeps in a pile of pillows & blankets, don't judge him its like a comfort thing for him. he also has 2 other piles in case people come in to either relax or even sleep. has a bunch of carpets in his room. he has a few (small) statues his father got him from his travels, and his mother has made him blankets & pillows (and sent plants to him he's a plant dad) he has that are in his respective pile only. he's also an organized person, but he also doesn't have "regular" furniture per Jacob, Edward and Ezio. Altaïr loves Arno and Desmonds company, he never had friends as a kid so having them spend time in his room is another comfort thing for him. also not a big gamer, no gaming systems. like Arno & Connor this man writes and reads, another one in the little writing & book gang. he doesn't like people in his room other than Arno & Desmond (sometimes Ezio) he trusts few people and they are his #1 trustee's. his room smells like Sandalwood and sometimes Lavendar. in short he sticks with furniture & art from his culture, I will die by that.

[pjunicornart]

Sneak Peek

I've been working on my Songtober fics, and I must say they are coming along quite well! To hype it up, I'm gonna give you a snippet of the very first fic for Songtober!

It's a fic which takes place in the dystopian future Doris creates. This fic is just a moment of living in an awful environment. The song of which this fic was inspired by will remain a secret until October 1st.

Under the cut...

“The city at night. It’s only ever slightly less loud in the darkness of filtered space. Bright lights around every corner advertising a bar or club with a new special for the night, the music from said clubs leaking out of their doors in a muffled tune, the steam from a nearby street food vendor filling the air and space around it with the smell of good-bad food, the people of the night engaging in typical nightly activities such as partying like they don’t have a business meeting in the morning.”

Cornelius looked up from the book he was rereading for what feels like the thousandth time and gazed out the window. The city was far from what his book was describing it as. A gray sky covered in darker gray smog blanketed a tar and soot covered metal city. Each building was only made with the basics of structure in mind. Spindly metal legs carried a comical bowler hat-like dome, only serving the bare minimum of whatever purpose the building was assigned. Down below the buildings were factories, sporting similar structure styles - just without the height enhancements. In these factories were the enslaved people, all of them thin and frail from neglecting their basic needs, dirty from working all day, and unaware of the danger they’re in because of their altered minds under the control of the industrial grade bowler hats on their heads (which cover their eyes, blinding them to reality). None of these innocent people could smell the zephyrs carrying the stench of sulfur and hot tar, and they certainly couldn’t see their dead colleagues being swept up by street cleaners as if they’re just a piece of garbage.

“How could such an innocent idea turn into something so horrific?” Cornelius thought to himself. He placed a torn piece of paper in between the pages he was on to mark his place, then closed the book, letting it rest on his lap. He continued to stare out of the window, as if waiting for it to suddenly magically change in a mirage of bubbles and sparkles. But it’s not going to happen. He feels sick.

“Cornelius? Ah, I thought I’d find you here.” Franny walked into his study. She observed the untouched plate of food on his desk, and the half empty glass of water next to it. One book was missing off his bookshelf, she assumed it was the one he reads often. He was swiveled around in his seat to stare out of the large window behind his desk. She stepped onto the freshly vacuumed carpet.

[elegantlaundry]

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In Central London, carpets are exposed to a significant amount of wear and tear due to the constant foot traffic, pollution, and changing weather conditions. A thorough cleaning can help revitalize worn carpets, restore their appearance, and eliminate any lingering odors. With the right tools and techniques, professional carpet cleaners can lift deep-set dirt and stains that household vacuums can’t reach. This kind of cleaning improves the overall atmosphere of your home or office, making it more comfortable and aesthetically pleasing. Additionally, professional cleaners can treat your carpets with protective solutions that prevent dirt buildup, making future cleaning easier.

How to Choose the Right Carpet Cleaning Company in West London

When selecting a carpet cleaning company in West London, it’s important to consider several factors. Reputation is key. Look for companies with positive customer reviews and a proven track record of high-quality service. Ensure that the company uses eco-friendly, safe cleaning products that are gentle on both your carpets and the environment. Additionally, inquire about the cleaning methods they use, such as hot water extraction or steam cleaning, as these are the most effective techniques for removing dirt, bacteria, and allergens. Competitive pricing and flexibility in scheduling are also crucial factors to look for when making your decision.

Why You Should Invest in Carpet Cleaning Services Regularly

Carpet cleaning is not a one-time task; it should be a regular part of your home or office maintenance. Regular cleaning can significantly reduce allergens, bacteria, and pollutants, which are especially important for those with respiratory issues or allergies. It can also help to maintain the vibrant colors and texture of your carpets, preventing them from looking dull and worn out. For businesses, a clean carpet creates a more professional and welcoming environment for clients and employees alike. By hiring a reliable carpet cleaning company regularly, you ensure that your carpets stay in top condition year-round.

Conclusion

Whether you live in Central London or West London, regular carpet cleaning is essential for maintaining a clean and healthy environment. It not only improves the aesthetic appeal of your carpets but also contributes to better indoor air quality by removing harmful pollutants. By opting for professional carpet cleaning services, you can extend the lifespan of your carpets and enjoy a cleaner, more comfortable space. For reliable and efficient carpet cleaning in London, visit cleanercarpetslondon.com to find the right service for your needs and ensure your carpets receive the care they deserve.

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Revitalize Your Home with Professional Houston Carpet Cleaning Service

Maintaining a clean and hygienic home is essential for both comfort and health. Carpets, as a significant part of home décor, often bear the brunt of daily wear and tear, accumulating dirt, stains, and allergens. A professional Houston carpet cleaning service can restore your carpets to their original beauty while improving indoor air quality. Here's a guide to why investing in carpet cleaning services in Houston is a smart decision for homeowners.

Why Professional Carpet Cleaning is Essential

Carpets are more than just decorative elements; they play a vital role in creating a cozy and inviting atmosphere. However, they also trap dirt, dust, and allergens over time. Vacuuming alone cannot eliminate these deeply embedded particles, which is why a professional Houston carpet cleaning service is crucial.

Key Benefits of Professional Carpet Cleaning:

Healthier Living Environment: Removing allergens and bacteria helps create a healthier indoor environment.

Prolonged Carpet Lifespan: Regular cleaning protects the fibers from damage, extending the life of your carpets.

Enhanced Aesthetic Appeal: Professional cleaning restores the vibrant colors and textures of your carpets.

Odor Removal: It eliminates unpleasant odors caused by pets, spills, or general use.

What Sets Carpet Cleaning Services in Houston Apart?

Houston is home to numerous professional cleaning companies, but choosing the right one ensures quality results. The best carpet cleaning services in Houston combine state-of-the-art technology with experienced professionals to deliver exceptional outcomes.

Features of Top-Tier Services:

Advanced Equipment: High-powered vacuums and steam cleaners for deep cleaning.

Eco-Friendly Products: Use of non-toxic, environmentally safe cleaning agents.

Custom Solutions: Tailored cleaning plans to meet specific customer needs.

Expert Technicians: Skilled professionals trained in handling various carpet types.

How to Choose the Right Houston Carpet Cleaning Service

Selecting the right service provider can be overwhelming given the options available. Here are some factors to consider when choosing a reliable Houston carpet cleaning service:

Reputation: Look for reviews and testimonials from previous customers. A company with positive feedback is likely to deliver quality service.

Experience: Choose a provider with years of experience in the industry.

Services Offered: Check if they offer additional services such as upholstery cleaning or stain removal.

Pricing: Compare quotes from multiple companies to ensure competitive pricing without compromising on quality.

Guarantee: Opt for services that come with a satisfaction guarantee.

The Process of Professional Carpet Cleaning

Understanding the cleaning process can help you prepare for the service. Most carpet cleaning services in Houston follow a standard procedure:

Inspection: Technicians assess the condition of the carpet and identify problem areas.

Pre-Treatment: Application of cleaning agents to loosen dirt and stains.

Deep Cleaning: Use of steam cleaning or hot water extraction methods to remove contaminants.

Rinsing and Drying: Thorough rinsing followed by drying to prevent mold growth.

Post-Cleaning Inspection: Ensuring the customer’s satisfaction with the results.

Why Houston Residents Trust Professional Carpet Cleaners

Living in a bustling city like Houston means your carpets endure heavy foot traffic, spills, and exposure to pollutants. A professional Houston carpet cleaning service ensures your carpets remain clean and free from harmful allergens, contributing to a healthier home environment.

Testimonials from Satisfied Customers:

"After using carpet cleaning services in Houston, my carpets look brand new! The team was professional and efficient."

"I noticed a significant improvement in air quality after hiring a Houston carpet cleaning service. Highly recommended!"

Conclusion

Investing in a professional Houston carpet cleaning service is not just about aesthetics; it's about maintaining a healthy living space and extending the life of your carpets. Whether you're dealing with stubborn stains, pet odors, or general dirt buildup, carpet cleaning services in Houston provide the expertise and tools necessary to tackle these challenges effectively.

So, don’t wait! Schedule your carpet cleaning appointment today and experience the transformative difference in your home’s cleanliness and comfort.

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Carpet Cleaners Northern Virginia: The Best Choice for Cleaner, Fresher Carpets

When it comes to maintaining clean and healthy carpets in your home, finding the right carpet cleaners Northern Virginia has to offer is essential. Over time, carpets accumulate dirt, dust, and allergens that can affect both their appearance and the air quality in your home. Whether you're dealing with stubborn stains, deep dirt, or simply want to refresh your carpets, professional carpet cleaners Northern Virginia can provide the thorough cleaning your carpets need to stay in top shape.

Why Carpet Cleaners Northern Virginia Are Essential

Carpets are prone to collecting dirt, dust, pet hair, and allergens over time, even with regular vacuuming. While vacuuming helps to remove surface-level dirt, it doesn't address the deep-seated grime and bacteria that can build up. Professional carpet cleaners Northern Virginia use high-powered equipment and advanced cleaning solutions to penetrate deep into the carpet fibers, providing a level of clean that regular vacuuming simply can't achieve.

Benefits of Choosing Carpet Cleaners Northern Virginia

Deep Cleaning: Professional carpet cleaners Northern Virginia have access to powerful equipment that removes dirt, dust, and allergens deep within the carpet fibers, ensuring a more thorough clean than what a typical home vacuum can provide.

Improved Indoor Air Quality: Carpets trap allergens like dust mites, pollen, and pet dander. Over time, these particles can negatively affect your home’s air quality. Regular professional carpet cleaning helps reduce allergens, making your home healthier and more comfortable.

Effective Stain Removal: Whether it's coffee spills, pet accidents, or mud stains, professional carpet cleaners are equipped with the right tools and cleaning agents to tackle tough stains and restore your carpet’s appearance.

Prolonged Carpet Life: Over time, dirt and grime can wear down the fibers of your carpet. Regular cleaning helps prevent this damage, extending the life of your carpet and maintaining its texture and beauty.

Convenience and Expertise: When you hire professional carpet cleaners Northern Virginia, you’re hiring experts who know how to clean all types of carpets effectively. They handle the entire cleaning process—from moving furniture to drying your carpets—so you don’t have to worry about a thing.

How to Choose the Best Carpet Cleaners Northern Virginia

When looking for the best carpet cleaners Northern Virginia, consider these important factors:

Reputation and Reviews: Look for companies with a solid reputation and positive customer reviews. A reliable carpet cleaning service will have consistent customer satisfaction and high ratings.

Experience: Choose a company with years of experience in the industry. Experienced carpet cleaners are more likely to handle tough stains and provide superior service.

Certifications: Make sure the carpet cleaners are certified by reputable organizations, such as the Institute of Inspection, Cleaning, and Restoration Certification (IICRC). Certification ensures the company follows industry best practices and uses safe, effective cleaning methods.

Eco-Friendly Options: If you’re environmentally conscious, inquire whether the carpet cleaners use eco-friendly, non-toxic cleaning solutions that are safe for pets and children.

Transparent Pricing: Look for carpet cleaners who offer transparent pricing with no hidden fees. Get a clear estimate of the cost before the cleaning begins to avoid any surprises.

Top Carpet Cleaners Northern Virginia

Here are some top-rated carpet cleaners in Northern Virginia known for their expertise and excellent customer service:

Northern Virginia Carpet Cleaning: Offering a range of carpet cleaning services, Northern Virginia Carpet Cleaning is known for its reliable and efficient service. They specialize in stain removal, deep cleaning, and allergen reduction.

Steam Pro Carpet Cleaning: Steam Pro is a trusted name in the Northern Virginia area, offering professional steam cleaning services for carpets, upholstery, and more. Their team is experienced in handling all types of carpet fibers and stains.

Healthy Home Carpet Cleaning: Known for their eco-friendly approach, Healthy Home Carpet Cleaning uses non-toxic cleaning solutions that are safe for your family and pets. They specialize in both residential and commercial carpet cleaning.

Carpet cleaners Northern Virginia are the best way to ensure your carpets stay fresh, clean, and free of allergens. With professional cleaning, you can extend the life of your carpets, improve indoor air quality, and remove tough stains. When choosing the right company, look for experience, certifications, and a reputation for quality service. With the help of trusted carpet cleaners, your home can enjoy a cleaner, healthier environment with carpets that look and feel like new.

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[herry700]

We have 8 years of experience in the cleaning industry and highly trained cleaning professionals who have in-depth knowledge of deep cleaning techniques. Our customized cleaning solutions reflect our passion for excellence. We always come up with continuous improvements that bring us forward and keep us up to date with the latest tools and techniques. 

[rootsmulticlean]

GLOBAL TRAINING ACADEMY(GTA) – ROOTS MULTICLEAN LTD

Roots Multiclean Ltd has been collaborating with many Prestigious & Key accounts across India & Global markets for the past several years.

Our new state of the art Global Training Academy is a step towards upgrading the knowledge of Cleaning Industry Professionals and Students aspiring to become future leaders in the Cleaning Industry.

This facility is a sprawling 10,000 sq.ft training centre which contains all required infrastructure including different kinds of floors like Granite, Marble, Vitrified Tiles, Kota, Epoxy, Concrete, Wooden, Carpet, Chequered Plate… All under one roof.

The facility is fully equipped with equipment like Sweepers, Scrubbers, Vacuum cleaners, High-pressure water jets, Steam cleaners and a Complete range of Mops/Trolleys.

Focussed training classes for challenging housekeeping applications like Marble Crystallization, Carpet Cleaning & maintenance, removal of Stubborn Soil from Epoxy Floors, etc are some of the training points.

What makes it even more interesting is that participants get hands-on operating experience from the frequently used domestic mops to Ride-on Scrubber Driers and even Road Sweepers…

On completion of training, participants learn and take-away an overall experience of:

Knowledge of choosing right cleaning process, machines operations and their maintenance.

Working principles of cleaning machines, detergents, mops, tools and different kinds floor Pads.

Knowledge of safe handling of cleaning detergents and machines –

Critical points, ensuring of right processes and safe handling of the cleaning aids- as all this would directly result in day to day operations which require quick actions, yet safe operation.

Upon successful completion of training, participants would be issued a certificate.

For further enquiries, please feel free to contact us

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Cleaning Service Carpet: Professional Care for Pristine Carpets

Carpets are an essential part of any home or office, adding warmth, comfort, and aesthetic appeal. However, they also attract dust, dirt, allergens, and stains over time. A professional cleaning service carpet is the key to maintaining a fresh, clean, and hygienic environment. In this article, we will explore the benefits, methods, and tips for choosing the best carpet cleaning service.

Why Opt for a Professional Cleaning Service for Carpets?

While vacuuming can handle surface dirt, professional cleaning services go much deeper. Here's why opting for a professional carpet cleaning service is the best choice:

Deep Cleaning: Removes embedded dirt and allergens.

Stain Removal: Tackle stubborn stains effectively.

Odor Elimination: Get rid of unpleasant smells.

Prolong Carpet Life: Prevents fiber damage and extends carpet lifespan.

Healthier Environment: Eliminates dust mites, bacteria, and allergens.

Common Carpet Cleaning Methods

Different carpets require different cleaning techniques. Here are some popular methods used by professional cleaning services:

1. Hot Water Extraction (Steam Cleaning)

Uses hot water and detergent to remove dirt.

Effective for deep cleaning and allergen removal.

2. Dry Carpet Cleaning

Minimal moisture usage.

Suitable for delicate carpets.

3. Carpet Shampooing

Effective for removing stubborn stains.

Ideal for heavily soiled carpets.

4. Encapsulation Cleaning

Uses minimal water.

Quick drying and eco-friendly.

The Carpet Cleaning Process

A professional carpet cleaning service typically follows these steps:

1. Inspection and Assessment

The technician inspects the carpet to identify stains, damage, and material type.

2. Pre-Treatment

Stains and high-traffic areas are pre-treated with specialized solutions.

3. Deep Cleaning

Using the chosen method, carpets are cleaned thoroughly.

4. Rinsing and Extraction

Residual cleaning agents are removed completely.

5. Drying

High-speed fans are used to accelerate the drying process.

6. Final Inspection

The technician ensures the carpet is spotless and odor-free.

Benefits of Professional Carpet Cleaning

Regular professional carpet cleaning offers numerous benefits, including:

Improved Air Quality: Removes pollutants and allergens.

Stain Prevention: Protects carpets from permanent stains.

Enhanced Appearance: Restores the original look of carpets.

Extended Carpet Life: Prevents wear and tear.

Time-Saving: Professionals handle the job efficiently.

How to Choose the Best Carpet Cleaning Service

When selecting a carpet cleaning service, consider the following factors:

Experience and Expertise: Choose a company with proven industry experience.

Certifications: Look for certified professionals.

Eco-Friendly Products: Ensure safe and non-toxic cleaning solutions.

Transparent Pricing: Avoid hidden costs.

Customer Reviews: Check testimonials and ratings.

Why CarpetProWash is the Best Choice

If you're searching for reliable carpet cleaning services, CarpetProWash is a trusted choice.

What Sets CarpetProWash Apart?

Skilled Technicians: Experienced and trained staff.

Advanced Equipment: State-of-the-art tools.

Safe Cleaning Solutions: Non-toxic and environmentally friendly.

Personalized Service: Customized solutions for your needs.

Satisfaction Guarantee: Committed to delivering top-quality results.

DIY Carpet Maintenance Tips

Between professional cleaning appointments, you can maintain your carpets with these tips:

Vacuum Regularly: Remove surface dirt and dust weekly.

Address Spills Immediately: Blot spills instead of scrubbing.

Use Entry Mats: Reduce the amount of dirt tracked indoors.

Rotate Furniture: Prevent uneven wear.

Schedule Regular Cleaning: Book professional services at least twice a year.

Final Thoughts

Investing in a professional cleaning service carpet ensures cleaner, healthier, and longer-lasting carpets. With expertise, advanced tools, and eco-friendly cleaning solutions, companies like CarpetProWash provide unparalleled results. Whether at home or in a commercial space, regular carpet cleaning is essential for maintaining hygiene and aesthetic appeal.

Don't wait for dirt and stains to take over—book your professional carpet cleaning service today and experience the difference!