#plate boats for sale

[creativelara]

Alloy Plate Boats For Sale: Your Ultimate Guide To Finding The Perfect Vessel

Are you in the market for a new boat but unsure what type to choose? Have you considered alloy plate boats? These boats have gained popularity in recent years due to their durability, low maintenance, and excellent performance. In this comprehensive guide, we will discuss the ins and outs of alloy plate boats for sale, including their construction, features, maintenance, and how to choose the…

[celestie0]

Hey!! Do you have any ihm headcanons for gojo and y/n?

I honestly love them both so much especially reader. Your writing is amazing

suuure!! i mean they're not like officially in a relationship yet so these will just be kinda random facts about them i supposeee, some separate and some together :0 but i hope they're still interesting haha <33

in holy matriphony headcanons

ᰔ note. for anyone new here, these headcanons are based off of my gojo x reader long fic series called "in holy matriphony"!! header art by @/3-aem

ihm!gojo woodworks in his free time. he’s building a coffee table right now. he passed out in his workshop last weekend because he accidentally inhaled too many wood stain fumes

ihm!gojo already has a college fund set up for his future kids (he started it when he was 26 lmfao)

ihm!gojo on that note is veeery financially responsible (unlike ihm reader hahaha)

ihm!reader only chose nursing for her post undergrad plans because she dressed up as a nurse once for halloween and it drove choso crazy and that’s basically what she ended up rolling with for the rest of her professional career 👍🏼 (a questionable yet relatable decision)

ihm!gojo’s ex-wife, who shall still remain mostly a mystery, is actually someone he’s known since he was four years old (childhood friends to lovers type beat)

ihm!gojo’s favorite weekend pass times are hanging out with juno, taking his boat out to the lake, and watching SNL

ihm!reader secretly really wants to go for a ride on the lake on ihm!gojo’s boat but she’s spent so much time yelling at him for parking it halfway across her driveway curb that she feels like asking would be damage to her ego

ihm!gojo & ihm!reader were actually veeeeeery civil with one another when they first met, like very sweet neighbors, but then obviously things became sour down the line haha

ihm!gojo eats a generally pretty clean diet other than the occasional takeout on a friday. he PIGS out when he’s sold a house though. also, he’s a massive slut for home baked goods especially if they were made just for him. one time juno brought him a plate of (very burnt) chocolate chip cookies and he damn near cried (it’s the thought that counts)

ihm!gojo became a real estate agent fresh out of college but his actual major in college was entirely unrelated to marketing, sales, or business (shall be revealed later) 

ihm!reader was voted prom queen not once but twice when she was in high school and she believes that’s when she peaked in life

ihm!gojo gets sent on business trips to foreign countries pretty often by his brokerage firm to assess new housing markets and he always tries to bring back souvenirs for everyone in the neighborhood (except reader because he once brought her a stuffed animal from the airport in taiwan but he saw her throw it away in her garbage bin on trash day :( …she’s so mean sometimes)

whenever ihm!gojo & ihm!reader have arguments over things, they always vent about it to their neighbors in passing, and reader gets so pissed off when neighbors take gojo’s side because she’s literally lived there her whole life and yet they have the audacity to advocate for HIM

ihm!reader holds a lot of resentment towards her father because he was a heavy smoker for the entirety of his marriage to her mom, and so she suspects the reason her mother has cancer in the first place is because of the secondhand smoke 

ihm!gojo is obsessed with avocados. he eats avocado toast everyday. and he makes a meaaaaannn bowl of guac. he only has one avocado tree in his backyard right now but he would like to have a whole farm of them someday

ihm!gojo is really social, he loooves to talk to people and get to know them and ask them for their whole life story even if he just met them like two minutes ago lol, but his actual close knit  group of friends is only like 3-4ish guys

ihm!gojo gets frequently invited to his clients’ dinner parties, christmas parties, thanksgiving meals, kids birthday parties etc lmfaooo but he often has to politely decline

ihm!reader’s doctor is very concerned for her symptoms of insomnia (due to her abnormal sleeping schedule from nights shifts) because she already has risk factors for alzheimer's from her mother and insomnia only increases that risk

ihm!reader’s favorite store ever is costco. she wants her ashes to be spread across a costco parking lot

a/n. hope u enjoyed :0 much love!!

[rebelliousstories]

By Any Other Name

25 Days of Ficmas

Relationship: Dwayne x Reader

Fandom: The Lost Boys

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 1,073

Main Masterlist: Here

Lost Boys Masterlist: Here

Summary: There’s a certain charm of learning about different traditions and cultures around the holidays.

Consider Donating: Here

“Come on, Dwayne! We’ll miss the seven-thirty show!” Being dragged through the streets of Santa Carla near the beach was not how he intended to spend his evening; but he was not complaining now.

There was a multi-cultural holiday festival happening downtown, and she had not stopped talking about it all week. Tons of different stalls littered the blocked off streets. So many different cultural representatives in such a tiny area, but that was what made it exciting. With so much to do, the couple knew that their evening was going to be full of adventure.

Their first stop was the Greek stall, where young boys were singing their versions of Christmas carols. Beautifully decorated boats with gold painted nuts were held in their hands, and there were also some for sale in front. Different treats were also available, to which she roped Dwayne into trying. Figs, nuts, pieces of lamb, and even some kourabiedes; cookies made from butter and almonds, like a shortbread. She managed to convince Dwayne to get a little boat that was navy blue and gold, with a depiction of Poseidon on it for Laddie, sighting that she knew he would enjoy having something n his stocking on Christmas Day.

A French stall beckoned them after. There were also tons of sweet treats for them to eat, including what Americans called a Yule Log, but the French called bûche de Noël. The traditions they learned about was not unlike America, just with much more emphasis on the sweets it appeared.

Madagascar and Colombia were right next to each other which led to the couple spending twenty minutes just between those two stalls. They got lychees from the Madagascar side, which were so sugary sweet and perfectly ripe. And buñuelos from the Colombian people, filled with so much cheese that the couple took turns doing cheese pulls. They listened as the representatives spoke of their midnight mass that the majority of their people went to, and drew their own comparisons and contrasts.

It was so genuinely fascinating that so many different cultures, countries and peoples who weren’t even all Christian celebrated the holiday.

They tried Nigerian food next. As they paid and took a plate of jollof rice, stew, pounded yam, and vegetables, Dwayne could not help but crack a joke.

“Are you sure we didn’t come here just so that you could eat a bunch,” he teased, wiping the corner of her mouth free from some stew that lingered.

“It’s Christmas. We’re supposed to eat a lot. Besides,” she held out a spoonful of mixed food, “I don’t hear you complaining.”

Taking the bite, he chewed it fully before responding. “I’m not. Just pointing something out.”

Leaving the Belgium stall, they held a small bag that contained some mystery presents for the people in the cave, as well as another plate of food for them to split. Finding a spot for them to sit down, their aching feet were relieved from the pressure of all their walking and standing. Passing food back and forth, she took a moment to look at her ethereal boyfriend. It honestly made sense that he was a vampire to her; Dwayne was just far too pretty to be a mortal man.

“I can feel you staring.” He called out, breaking her from her trance. His eyes cut over as he shoveled another bite into his mouth. “You good, princess?”

“What was Christmas like when you were young?”

It was such a simple question, but it held such weight. Dwayne gave her the late again and stayed silent. Fearing that she had offended him, she quickly tried to back track her statement, only to be stopped by his hand pressing against her racing lips.

“Princess, calm down. It’s fine,” he tried to reassure her, but he could still see the fearful glaze over her eyes.

“Christmas was beautiful. We didn’t really have a name for it because we didn’t believe in Christianity when I was young, but the end of year celebrations were always great.’

“Everyone gathered together. All of the men went out to hunt leaving the women and children to make decorations and gifts. We would make some once the adults returned from the bones and pelts of the animals they caught. Everyone had a job.’

Dwayne paused once more, getting a distant look into his eyes. She reached over and placed her hand on his own, to which he grasped hers a little tighter. “There was dancing, feasting, and just a general ease of celebrations. It was beautiful.”

“It sounds wonderful Dwayne.”

Focusing on the crowd ahead, the couple found themselves leaning in closer to each other as they enjoyed the company of the other. At some point, Dwayne threw his arm around her shoulders to tug her closer to his bare chest, because nothing was going to convince that man to wear a shirt.

“I miss that, honestly.” He began, breaking their silent bubble. Looking down at the woman in his arms, he smiled at the sight of her rosy cheeks.

“But I love that I can make more Christmas memories with you now.”

He finished his little confession with a sweet kiss to her lips. They were a little cold, but that did not matter to him. His were probably in the same condition, and a little chapped.

“Do you wanna finish going through the stalls? Or do you wanna head home to the cave?” She offered, snuggling closer to him still.

“What time is sunrise?”

“About seven. Maybe a little before.”

With a smirk, Dwayne looked towards the stalls before them with determination. “We only did six stalls. Let’s see if we can’t hit all twenty before this closes. Plus, you wanted to see the cultural show and all we’ve done is eat and get gifts.”

Smiling, she grabbed their plate and hastily let them finish the food, before speed walking over to the stage that had been set up. As they tucked in for the show, Dwayne leaned in so he was able to whisper into her ear.

“We can bring Laddie next time. But under no circumstances can Paul and Marko know about this.” Her giggle came out much louder than she intended, causing them to garner some unwanted attention.

“I’m okay with this plan.” She tucked herself underneath his arm once more, and rested her hand on his knee, content on watching the show before them.

[kharmii]

Where Adaman and Volo meet up to have a picnic on that little island in the middle of Lake Valor. Unfortunately for the two himbos, a wild staravia assaults their boat. Hope they can swim.

Where Volo hooks up his best customers with his wares, but he isn't the best at being organized.

Where the protag copies Volo's goofy hairstyle after defeating him, and the whole Jubilife Village gets into the trend.

Where Volo starts out taunting Giratina because Arceus has 18 forms depending on which plate it activates, whereas Giratina only has two forms. Giratina punishes him by trapping him in the distortion world where time has no meaning. He can only gain forgiveness if he gets an even goofier hairstyle modeled after Giratina's head. Volo guesses he goes without food or water for the equivalent of three days. That's how long it takes for him to give in and get the haircut. Giratina quips it is a good quality hairdo, and Volo replies, "No way".

(Giratina might be expressing possessiveness towards a Volo who acts more loyal to the god he doesn't know than to the one he does)

Where Akari's pokemon have all evolved, but she recounts rolling over Volo's whole team with one fat teddy.

Where Volo comes calling to Cogita for the old stories. The first two panels start out with formalities where Volo addresses her as 'Mistress Cogita' and 'Professor'. He begs her to tell him about mythology. She asks who he is? A child? A slacker? He replies with mention of purchasing a chair for himself someday, but he's on the verge of being kicked out of the Ginkgo Guild for lack of sales. Perhaps someday he will find a cheaper one?

Then Volo reveals his frivolous nature in the third panel where he talks about bringing tea leaves Cogita likes, but he will have to pay for them later (maybe from stock he was supposed to sell). He tells her she has a nice garden, but it looks plain with only vegetables growing. What sort of myths will she tell him today? How about planting some flowers? Then he stops and repeats her name, as if to get her attention. Cogita's mind seems to have wandered as she catches a glimpse of Volo's true nature shadowed by Giratina. It's perhaps a premonition.

Later, after Volo leaves, she questions the vision. She asks herself....should I forget about it? At best, it could be said that it was completely out of place.

(Side note: I thought the drifloon and drifblim floating around in the panels made a nice subtle reference to how Volo carries the spooky plate but is capricious in nature. Maybe it's just me)

A collection of goofy Volo related comics I found on Twiman.net crediting the following Twitter artists:

宙@panchracomeon

どすも🐻‍❄️@mos_dosmos

宙@panchracomeon again

じゃこ@jako_boke

Tsugaru Appuru 🍎@glassy0302

𝔻𝕀𝕄@null_null_kyo

[fullofgutsndopamine]

put me back in (i would do it again)

or; re-visiting old ghosts

more wcbah here (not mandatory to read other parts. doesn’t necessarily follow the timeline either so)

TW: cursing, mention of past abuse, PTSD, bad coping skills, mention of alcohol/alcoholism (not charlie or r)

For a long time, the street was forbidden.

like some kind of imaginary barrier forbid you from crossing that section of the street, some physical force putting a hand against your chest and forcing you to stop, to reevaluate, to think this through

usually it comes in the form of charlie.

for awhile, a mystery problem would come up; the pain that radiates down his leg that only seems to come up when close to this block would flare up, the sky would turn darker and charlie would insist it was time to come home, promising a warm mug of tea.

charlie could tell the hesitation.

his hand tangled in yours, he’s whistling as his head is up, looking high into the trees, the reds and greens and purples that only a midwest fall can promise you.

they get to the stop sign. you wait for charlie to open his mouth, to come up with an excuse, to fake an injury.

instead, he squeezes your hand: “i think the Marshall’s put their boat up last week, finally. I was working on their pier-“

your breathing is as timed as the beating in your chest. charlie is obviously making small talk, trying to make this less frightening-as if you hadn’t tossed and turned and lost sleep over this house and the monsters that roamed the too small four walls.

charlie’s grip on your hand tightens as the old house comes into view. you aren’t sure if it’s for your benefit or his. his voice never wavers, and he’s talking nonsense, just talking to be able to talk, but it’s comforting.

“fuck.”

the for sale sign creeks as it flips in the wind.

the house is just as you left it; the peeling paint, the mailbox on the ground. it’s like you and charlie never existed, never made it out, never did anything, ghosts dancing on the lawn between the houses.

you only realize charlie let go of your hand when you feel the empty space.

“charlie.”

your voice is harsher than it needs to be, and your whispering, which is unnecessary as everyone is gone, ghosts don’t haunt this part of town anymore.

“cmon. just want to see.”

leaves crumble under his boots and he kicks some away as if for confirmation, seeing his and yours initials in the old pavement by the mailbox, as if the nightmares aren’t enough to confirm this is the place.

“charlie!”

your practically yelling but he can’t hear you as he walks towards the door, his fingers linger behind as he traces over the peeling paint of the house, how some chips and gets stuck under his nails, how he’ll carry that with him

“do you think the lock is still broken?”

his hand rests on the door.

“shouldn’t we let the dead rest?”

it’s heavy in the air, because no one’s actually dead-you both just wish, most of the time. this house has seen it all, you’ve both seen it all, and it would only make sense.

his hand rests on the door handle before a gust of wind makes something in the front fall over.

you and charlie race back home, feet flying you to your sanctuary breathless as charlie yells, “go, go, go.”

charlie waits a few days to bring it up.

dark bags are under his eyes. he’s back to not sleeping-most nights you find his place in the bed cold, grabbing an old shirt of his off the floor as you walk downstairs in search of him.

“i was thinking.” he says carefully a few days later. he’s talking to his plate, his head ducked and he’s the nervous boy you grew up with again, always saying the wrong thing, always in the way.

“hm?”

it’s a half committed response, flipping through a newspaper you borrowed from the neighbor. they’re gone for the fall, but can afford to leave the subscription going, the least of their problems, so it continues.

“your old house,” he says, making your head whip up, “we could buy it.”

your hand grips the nightgown you’re wearing.

“charlie.”

“make it a home,” he says, using his knuckle to push his glasses up his face. they’re still broken, lean towards the left, “i already called. we can set up a meeting.”

“make it a home.” you repeat, “charlie, we got scared by the wind-“

“i won’t be scared,” he shakes his head, “not with you there. go with me?”

his voice drops and it almost sounds like begging, on the verge of tears.

“please.”

the days to the visit crawl and run at the same time. you find yourself busy with projects that aren’t necessary: raking the same leaves, watering half dead flowers-charlie takes the time off from the small projects he makes himself busy with around town, doesn’t leave your side.

it feels like a death march.

guilt and dread gnaws at your stomach, rips through you-but charlie is humming, smiling, as he walks hand in hand to a place you both memorized.

“and this here is the kitchen-“

it’s weird, having a stranger show you a house you grew up in. can see the marks on the wall by the stairs where charlie would mark how tall he was in comparison to you, the creaking stairs with the railing that falls if you grip it too hard-the sink that still leaks-

how the realtor would constantly be trying to get you two back on this tour, finding something to try and make this house appetizing

the stairs creak and groan as you follow upstairs, bow you hesitate until charlie steps in front, puts one foot in front of the other and offers his hand:

“i got us.”

the twin sized bed in the bedroom right off the stairs, that charlie never truly fit into, the nights he’d practically roll off the bed. the windows that creeked with the wind, flooded in the fall-

the first night is spent in the too small room. charlie insisted he could throw the twin sized mattress in the trash, buy a new mattress in a few weeks, that the pillows and blankets on the floor would be like a sleepover when you both were kids and the shadows scared you still, chased you to his front door.

you sit on the edge of the mattress as charlie walks around the room, his fingers trialing behind everything.

kelly, the realtor, has long given up. said to meet her downstairs when you’re both done, to give you space, explore the “rich history of the house.” you and charlie both hold in the laughs.

hands are shaken and papers are signed that day.

the move doesn’t take long; you both don’t own much and charlie keeps falling this a fresh start, trying to throw away anything that feels wrong. insists this time will be different, that he’ll make this right.

during the day, the house doesn’t seem too nefarious. you’re able to wash dishes at the sink, charlie hammers at the stair case, a cracking radio in the back-it feels like the house on the hill, for most of the day.

until night falls. shadows creep and bolt as you make your way around the house, hand in hand with charlie, even for the restroom. anxiety rips at your throat. but every time you look at charlie, he’s smiling. it’s all teeth, a genuine smile you haven’t seen in awhile, and his voice is low, borders on a hum as he talks:

“we’ll get it right, this time.”

charlie wakes you up from the floor. the front room doesn’t have much; spent most of the day dreaming up where things could go-a television, eventually, a small couch-charlie had a hand full of your paintings he insisted you brought with, spent the day with an arm full of them-holding them against the walls, tilting his head, trying to get it right-a nail between his teeth until he found the perfect place-marks the spot.

you were hoping to get away with it, sleeping in the front room. it was like before, when exhaustion finally took over and you two passed out wherever you could, only until the other woke you up, marched upstairs.

instead, you crawl into the twin sized mattress, back against the wall. it’s scary for only a moment-suddenly you’re a kid holding your breath waiting for your father to come home again-

until-

until

charlie slides into the mattress. it creeks and dips wit him but your hand is tangled in his against his chest and you can feel the steady beat from his chest to talk you off the ledge.

“tell me a story.”

charlie laughs from behind you. it gets captured in the too small room, makes itself louder. you imagine it chases away the ghosts that hide and peak and linger behind the doors

“i think i’m all out of stories, honey.”

“one more,” you’re all but begging, “for old times sake.”

this time, he isn’t drowning out noises. not the refrigerator slamming shut and the sound of a bottle cap hitting aluminum floor. the yelling, the “i’ll find you. you know i will.” charlie’s lips don’t need to be pressed against your ear to be the only sound you hear now. you’re a kid and you believe in princess’ and far away lands and happy endings again-

“once upon a time,” charlie drawls, “in a place far, far away-“

when you wake up, the sun is shining through the windows and you can hear the waves being chased to the shore, crash, build themselves up again

the spot where charlie laid is cold. you can smell coffee in the air, and the radio cracks downstairs.

he’s smiling, as you walk downstairs. a handful of nails again, but the sink isn’t leaking anymore, can’t hear the drip drip drip that you swore would drive you insane.

“morning, honey.” charlie smiles in the home he made, “made you coffee. figured we could get started outside today-“

and as you curl up next to him, the cup of coffee burning your hand, you’re home.

[scriberat]

tagging @thydungeongal since you're the one who got me thinking on it.

the post regarding severity of HP and hits and depth of damage on the body in ttrpgs has got me thinking about airships again (what doesnt)

SO

on a watership, there are a few layers of differing severity for an attack to land on: below the waterline, above the waterline, the masts, and the powder room. here, ive outlined how immediately fucked you are based on what gets hit. - mast, whatever, steering is screwed (also goes for the rudder, youre not done for but your steering is.) the bottom part specifically is highlighted because thats the part most likely to hit the deck and deal additional damage when it does - above the waterline, way worse as that is a hole in the ship itself. structural integrity is down but overall, it's not the end of the world and you can limp without really limping until you get to port to fix it, and things might collapse from above but youre still in good shape - below the waterline is... obvious. while it can be patched, someone has to be there to do so within a few minutes or youre going to sink where you are, and the larger the hole, the less time you have. a badly wounded ship means fewer fighters as you need to dedicate the bodies to fix the issue before everyone goes under - powder room. if you've got cannons you have a powder room which means an entire central spot full of explosives <3 one hit here and you're looking at a catastrophic event. best case scenario, you lose half the ship in a kaboom.

now, of course, not a lot of people are going to be aiming for the powder room, as a captured ship is a solid 40k in your pocket, 20k after repairs, and since most crews dont even number a hundred, thats a hefty sum in your pocket post-sale, or you can increase your own sea strength for higher payloads along the way. worth it to box the crew and save the boat.

airships, on the other hand, seem to have that in reverse, in which the hull itself is mostly expendable as long as you have the mode of locomotion and standing room. the integrity of an airship comes down to how it floats and how it propels. traditionally on that front, there are balloon types and sail types with engines. - with balloons, popping that balloon will result in the entire airship sinking. the balloon is "below the waterline." - with a sail-and-engine, the engine is akin to the powder room, a OHKO spot

THEREFORE

to roll this well, the dice master in question would need to roll a die per cannon. if the ship being attacked takes up 10 squares and you have 5 cannons, each cannon would have a chance of dealing damage. the cannonballs should be able to pierce about 50 feet, so the closer you are the further the cannonball can go. then you have to consider if the cannons are on the gunwhales or gundeck for the elevation, and the further they are away, the more likely theyll hit the next layer down, though the power is also reduced.

rambly

nat 20 roll on the cannon that's facing the powder room will cause an explosion. anything less won't as it's difficult to ignite powder with a lump of iron.

so basically: roll for each cannon involved, calculate based on map distance, account for any armor that the ship may have (plate the sides), and you can make the ships themselves into players in a battle, and each table player can handle a part of it, from steering to loading and firing, etc.

grappling and boarding are also a part of this, but i havent gotten to that yet. itd shrink the focus lens from the ships (environmental) to the decks (stage) though

[dknuth]

Priene

Today, we started heading back south. The boat sailed south out of Kuşadasi while some of us headed inland to ancient Priene.

Kuşadasi is a major tourist location. While we were there, four cruise ships and many private boats were in the harbor. Docked next to us was a private yacht owned by a Khazak mining magnate.

It cost $65 million, has a crew of 19, and spends most of its time in this dock. We watched the crew scrub down the stern as we prepared to leave.

It's for sale if you are interested.

Then, it was into a van for the drive to Priene.

Priene was another Greek/Roman town but on the side of a hill. It was an early experiment for the Greeks in geometric town planning. It was all laid out on a regular grid, with defined commercial, municipal, and residential zones. This was not new in the ancient world; it had been standard in Mesopotamia for eons, but the Greeks lived in hilly areas and typically built around the terrain.

As usual, we stopped in shady places throughout the site for short discussions on various facets of the town.

Our first stop was the theater.

The premium seating in the first row was well preserved.

The stage was also well preserved. It was on top of the columns in the background.

There was a small Christian church in a basilica format.

In the center was a stair that would have served a platform for giving the sermon.

Then, it was to the Temple of Athena.

Amazingly, those columns are not re-erected but still stand from ancient times.

Then down to the Agora.

The bouleuterion also follows the rectilinear model of the town, quite different from the standard semi-circular shape.

Then back down the hill and back to the boat.

We had a long cruise south to get close to Bordum. It was very windy and relatively rough. The chairs on the deck were sliding all over; we could hear crashes from the galley and learned afterward that plates and such broke. As a landlubber, I am not a good sailor, but with a couple of patches behind my ears, I stayed on the deck where I could see the horizon and have the fresh breeze. I had no problems.

[revisitingstoneybrook]

#44 Dawn and the Big Sleepover: Chapter 9

The kids get a little overeager when running a garage sale.

Another babysitting chapter, this time with a notebook entry from everyone's favorite semi-literate 8th grader. And wow, this entry is worse than usual. I have to copy it in its entirety:

Yestirday was the yard sail at the Radous Rudowskis. Boy was I glad to read about your carnaval, Jesi. Dont get me rong. Its just maks me feel beter, that I wasnt the only one who had a tough time. Remeber when I was assined to supervize the sale and I said that if Jacky Rudowsky was involvd it was bound to be a disastr? Well the funy thing was, it was'nt even Jacky who mest up.

Ok, everyone's brains still intact after reading that?

And a yard sail? Did she bring the boat she sailed in Island Adventure over and display it in the Rodowskys' yard? I'm not even going to go near 'assined.' It sounds...dirty.

Geez, first we have to suffer through a Claudia BSC Notebook entry, now we have to suffer through a Rodowsky sitting chapter. I actually don't mind Jackie. I just hate reading sitting chapters involving him because it always feels like I'm reading the script of a cartoon. The kid's clumsy, we get it, stop beating us over the head with it!

Dawn says Claudia always wears her most indestructible clothes when she's babysitting for the Rodowskys. I remember that from another book...wasn't it jeans and a button-down white shirt? You'd think she'd pick a different color than white, since stains would show up the worst on white! But, logic isn't one of Claudia's strong suits. Dawn says if Claudia had a suit of armor, she'd wear that when sitting for them. Dammit, Dawn, don't give her any ideas! Now she's going to make a chain mail jumpsuit out of soda can pop-tops.

This chapter starts at the meeting after their school assembly, and Mrs. Rodowsky calls, asking if one of them can supervise the garage sale Shea and Jackie are organizing. Because, you know, she and Mr. Rodowsky can't do it. I guess they have to go to the grocery store or something. Needless to say, none of the girls jump at the chance to help out. It's just like if the Prezziosos called. They finally draw straws to see who the unlucky one will be, and Claudia ends up the victim. You know they rigged that, and Claudia's so dense she didn't notice.

In the days leading up to the garage sale, Claudia helps Jackie and Shea make a flyer (When will people learn - NEVER TRUST CLAUDIA TO MAKE A FLYER BECAUSE SHE KANT SPEL GUD!) and collect donations from other kids. That same week, donations start pouring into the barn and Dawn is surprised to see kids asking for receipts so they can win first prize at the sleepover. Dawn fears the kids are getting too competitive (after ignoring Mary Anne's concerns when she mentioned it earlier), and Claudia notices the same thing at the garage sale.

Right away, as Jackie is showing Claudia the stuff he and Shea got their parents to donate, he knocks a glass bowl into a toaster, which nudges a pile of plates off the table and sends them crashing into the driveway. Claudia sends him off to get a broom and Jackie goes to find one, almost bumping into another table in the process. Because, you know, he's a WALKING DISASTER. I don't think they ever made that clear enough.

They sweep up the broken plates with Jackie managing to not cause anymore destruction, and they open for business. And problems start to arise right away. Mrs. Delaney picks up a lamp which she recognizes as one of her own. Since it's the Delaneys, I'm guessing it's covered with rubies and they bought it for $80,000. And wait...the Delaneys go to Stoneybrook Academy! This is a Stoneybrook Elementary School project. Why are their kids donating stuff too?

Watson the Millionaire shows up and asks Claudia what kind of books are available. Claudia picks up an old book off a pile and stumbles over trying to pronounce Dostoevsky. Of course she would. Watson the Millionaire probably made her read it out loud because he wanted to torture her. And, uh oh, it's HIS book! The whole pile is his! He confronts David Michael, who sheepishly admits to taking them because they're old and Watson the Millionaire never reads them. Then Elizabeth comes over with a box of her picture frames. You see where this is going. David Michael starts to plead his case, but Elizabeth ignores him and says Mrs. Kilbourne found a necklace of her's that Maria donated. Hey - the Kilbournes go to Stoneybrook Day School! Are all the kids involved in stealing stuff from their parents? I mean, the parents are pretty oblivious most of the time, so it must have been easy. Either that or David Michael went on a robbery spree in his neighborhood.

Elizabeth says Mrs. Kuhn found some of her things there, and then Mr. Rodowsky runs past them, wielding a tennis racket and chasing Shea. Turns out it cost him $73, and he just rescued it from someone who tried to buy it. Then they hear Mrs. Addison scolding her daughter Corrie for donating a radio without her permission. The Brewers and Mrs. Rodowsky put two and two together (because Claudia can't), then realize what's going on. Claudia's trying hard not to laugh at it, and I don't see how this is funny. The kids basically stole stuff from their parents, and if no one had caught on, there would be serious trouble.

Anyway, Mr. Rodowsky takes matters into his own hands and addresses the crowd, telling them that most of the things for sale are unauthorized and asking if they can wait a few minutes while they sort everything out. Mrs. Delaney ends up relenting and gives the lamp up for sale, Mrs. Addison and Watson the Millionaire buy their stuff back, and everything ends up OK in the end.

[pollenallergie]

My mind is a minefield right now, so I’ve been hyperfixating on skincare as of late (as I usually do when life gets tough). As a result, I’ve been thinking about what some of current comfort characters’ skincare routines would be (or, more accurately, if they would even have a routine). Since it’s been a while since I’ve written anything substantial, I decided to write down some of the thoughts I’ve been having about their potential skincare routines. So… Enjoy! Hopefully this isn’t too niche; I know not everyone is as obsessed with skincare as I am.

Eddie Munson doesn’t have a skincare routine…

Or, at least, he didn’t have one back when he was younger.

From the ages of twelve to about forty, Eddie’s skincare routine was nonexistent. He hardly ever washed his face and, when he did, it was just with the same bar of Irish Spring that he used for his body. He also hardly ever used lotion, or, rather, he hardly ever used it for its intended purpose (if you catch my drift). Eddie did, however, frequently use sunscreen, but only during the summer months, only because he absolutely hated getting sunburns, and only the shitty kind that’s practically always on sale at the drugstore (I’m looking at you Banana Boat). Also, he only started using sunscreen in his twenties because, prior to that, the only thing that was really available was “sun tan lotion,” which hardly provided any protection at all. In fact, the best form of skincare he did at that time was occasionally putting vaseline on his lips during the winter months. Safe to say, he took horrible care of his skin during his youth.

Now that he’s older, though, he definitely has a skincare routine. Whether he was introduced to the wonders of skincare by his kid(s), you, the powers of the internet, or some combination of those three is up for debate. Point is, he’s now in the know about skincare and, as a result, has even developed a routine of his own. It’s a basic four-step routine, nothing too fancy - just a gentle cleanser, moisturizer, toner, and sunscreen - but Eddie doesn’t feel right leaving the house without having gone through every step of it.

He even has a nighttime skincare routine. Granted, it’s just his daytime routine sans SPF, but he still likes to think that it counts. His nighttime routine once also included an anti-aging/anti-wrinkle cream, but then, one day, you told him about how much you adore the wrinkles he already has (just some creases in his forehead, some crows feet, and some smile lines) and, now, he doesn’t mind the idea of getting new ones quite so much anymore.

Ralph Penbury has a very elaborate skincare routine, one that even rivals that of his sister. Firstly, he starts off his morning by simply washing his face, typically with a gentle cleansing cream. He then moves onto shaving using his favorite, hand-whipped sandalwood shaving foam and silver-plated, double-edged razor. Because he’s rich and also incredibly meticulous, Ralph also uses a straight razor specifically for shaving his neck. Once he’s finished shaving, he applies some sandalwood-scented aftershave balm to help keep his skin moisturized. He then follows this by strategically massaging his face for about ten minutes to help liven up his complexion, which is a trick he learned from his mother’s maid. Next, Ralph applies his favorite skin tonic, one which has witch hazel in it to keep any breakouts at bay. After that, he pats some Special Astringent into his skin to firm it up, which he then follows with the Elizabeth Arden Muscle Oil that he stole from his mother. Next, Ralph applies his favorite moisturizer, his favorite lip salve, and some sun protection; his preferred product is the Novena Sunproof Créme from Helena Rubenstein. Then he applies a thin sheen of powder to even out his skin tone and prevent any unwanted shine. He also applies some deodorizing talcum powder from Yardley to his body. Finally, Ralph finishes his morning routine by dabbing on a Penhaligon’s eau de toilette, likely one scented with bergamot or something woody.

Of course, that’s only for his morning routine.

For his afternoon routine (yes, he has an afternoon routine), re-cleanses his skin by applying his cleansing cream to a cotton pad, which he has dampened with his favorite tonic, and swiping it gently across his skin. He then reapplies his favorite moisturizer and some more Muscle Oil to his face before settling in for his daily afternoon nap. Exactly thirty minutes later he re-emerges from his bed to go pat some more of his tonic into his skin before reapplying his sun protection and his lip salve, and, then, re-powdering his face.

Importantly, he also uses a lavender-scented, coconut oil-based hand cream throughout the day, usually applying it after he washes his hands.

Lastly, his night routine is a bit more simplistic. Ralph begins his nighttime routine by taking a warm bath, during which he washes his body with his favorite bar of moisturizing, lavender-scented soap from Yardley. Then he moisturizes from head to toe with a lavender-scented moisturizer, something he also stole from his mother, before applying his After Shower Powder. Then, he begins to pay particular attention to his face once more by cleansing his skin with his cleansing cream, just as he did during his previous routines. He then follows this by patting some skin tonic and Special Astringent into his skin much like he did during his morning routine. Ralph then applies some more anti-wrinkle cream, lip salve, and moisturizer, putting a bit more than necessary so it’ll soak in overnight. To cap it all off, if his skin has been particularly dry lately, he then applies some of the Orange Skin Food from Elizabeth Arden to help keep his skin well-hydrated while he sleeps.

I love Ralph Penbury with my whole heart, but boy is he extra in just about everything he does. Honestly, that kind of makes me love him more.

Billy Knight’s skincare routine sort of fluctuates with his mental state. When he’s in a more depressive state, skincare becomes entirely irrelevant. However, when he’s in a more manic state, skincare can sometimes become a compulsion, though it typically just becomes irrelevant much like it is during his depressive states. When his moods are more stable, though, he does pretty well at keeping up with a decent routine. Some mornings he’ll use a basic cleanser and follow it up with one of those lotions that’s meant for your face and body, though he really only uses it on his face. Typically, though, he just uses the cleanser in the shower and applies the lotion once he gets out, mostly because he doesn’t like how water always gets everywhere when he washes his face in the sink. Billy also sometimes puts vaseline on his lips before bed, but usually only in the winter when they’re more prone to getting dry and cracked. All three products were acquired at random from the nearest pharmacy.

Tom Grant’s skincare routine is truly tragic. To start, he washes his face in the shower every morning with the same bar of soap he uses for the rest of his body. Coincidentally, that’s also where his skincare routine usually ends. The man almost never puts lotion on and, when he does, he only applies it to driest spots on his body and nowhere else. Tom’s not totally awful when it comes to skincare, though. He does, at least, wear sunscreen, but only during the summer when he knows he’ll be outside for a while, and he reapplies it very infrequently. He’ll also do a face mask with you if you offer him one. But that’s about the full extent of skincare for him.

[wreywrites]

Tiger Shark

Part 1: The Shark

Chapter 1

I sleep in that morning. We are the last district, so there is no point in getting up early, unless you want to watch the others live. But why? There will be a recap later, complete with commentary.

So I sleep in, then lay in bed for another half hour, because I can. Most days I either get up early for school or to go out on my father’s fishing boat. I enjoy the work. My father is the manager of a fishing company. He actually owns his own boat, and oversees a fleet of about a dozen Capitol-owned boats. He hires the crews, organizes sales and shipping, the whole hook and sinker. It’s nice, really. We make enough money to be quite comfortable, and my father is well-known and well-liked, so we get along well.

Ever since I was big enough to manage my own fishing pole, he let me come along on weekends to fish for fun and learn the family business so someday I can take over. When I was twelve, he decided I was big enough to start actually helping, so he put me on his most experienced crew so they could keep me out of too much trouble while I learned the ropes. When I turned fifteen and there were some staffing changes due to retirements and a shipwreck with no survivors, he let me pick a crew from the existing group, and from then on, I was in charge. Since then, we have been one of four crews on the largest fishing boat, the one my father captains personally. I love it. I love the sea air, the camaraderie, the sheer effort of fishing. Every weekend I am exhausted—going to school during the week is almost a vacation.

So the reaping is a special day. After being sufficiently lazy, I get up and get dressed. My father bought me a new dress for the occasion.

“Your last reaping is something to celebrate, I think,” he said, when he handed me the box last night after supper.

The dress is sea green and gorgeous. I leave my hair down, letting it fall all the way to my waist, and tie my seashell necklace around my neck. It was my mother’s, and after her death, it became mine. A single white shell, perhaps an inch in diameter, strung on a simple cord. I smile at my reflection, then walk downstairs.

My father hands me a plate of broccoli, rice, and seabass. Not my favorite, but he always does this. Reaping lunch is mediocre, reaping supper with our neighbors is extravagant and delicious.

We have just finished when there is a knock at the door.

“Yeah!” my father calls down the hallway without getting up.

The door opens and Mako steps inside. He winks at me as he pulls up a chair.

“Lunch?” my father gestures at his own plate.

“No thanks,” Mako says. “Mom had us finish last night’s salmon, so I’m full up on that. You’re still planning on supper tonight, right?”

Dad and I both nod.

“Good,” Mako continues, “Because Mom’s making seafood.”

“You’ll have to narrow that down,” I say with a mouthful of broccoli.

“Can’t. She’s making all of it. Lobster, clam, oyster, calamari, shrimp. She even said she found some caviar on the… in town.”

We all know what he isn’t saying. Just because we have all the seafood doesn’t mean we get to eat it all. The good stuff goes to the Capitol, and we get the leftovers, but the black market thrives here, and Mako’s mother supplies the whole neighborhood with her finds.

When my father and I have finished our lunch, we sit in silence for a moment, considering what is about to happen. Finally, my father says, “Well, you two have to be there earlier anyway, so how about I do the dishes this time, and I’ll see you after?”

Mako nods. I give Dad a quick hug, then follow Mako out the front door. He takes my hand, lacing our fingers together. “Happy Hunger Games, my love.”

“And may the odds be ever in your favor, my dearest,” I laugh.

We separate before reaching the square, he to the boys’ side and I to the girls’. I register, then walk to the very back of the square with the rest of the eighteen-year-old girls. As tall as I am, I make for even the back row of that group. I have just settled in place when Jade and Coral hurry up to me.

“Oh, your dress is beautiful!” Jade gushes. “I wish my dad would buy me a new reaping dress every year.”

“We all know you’d never wear it again though,” Coral says with a grin.

Jade smiles. “Okay, true, they’re not very multi-functional. I’d feel silly wearing it to school, and it would just get caught on everything at work.”

Jade works in her parents’ net shop, designing and making the fishing nets that fishermen like my father use. Coral is training to be a teacher, so much of any conversation Jade and I have about fishing techniques goes right over her head, but we love her anyway.

The square fills in quickly. We are nothing here if not punctual—though usually only on reaping day. At two o’clock, the speeches start. They mayor talks for a little while, then Casca says a few words as well, and then it is time.

Casca walks to the first bowl, reaches in, and pulls a slip of paper. He walks back to the microphone, opens the paper, and says, “The female tribute from District Four...”

I give the customary sigh of relief. Another year, another tribute. I am done. I turn to smile at Coral and Jade, but they are not smiling back. They are staring. Coral has tears in her eyes. And then it hits me. They have called my name.

“Annie Cresta?” Casca says again. He has no idea who I am. But most everyone else here does. Heads turn toward me. For some reason all I can think about is how beautiful this would look from above. The funnel of faces all turning to one point, and that one point is me. My red hair and green dress. Striking.

I walk through the crowd in a haze. There is silence. On the stage, I see Four’s six surviving past victors. They are sizing me up already, deciding if I am a contender. Last year they had a pair of thirteen-year-olds. Both dead within twenty-four hours.

I reach the stage, walk up the steps, stand awkwardly while Casca moves to the other bowl, pulls another piece of paper, reads another name.

“Mako Silther.”

I do not react. I cannot react. I hope very much that no one else reacts either. That is the last thing we need.

Mako walks forward. Like me, he was at the back, and watching him move through the crowd, I realize how painfully long it took me to reach the stage. And he didn’t stand there gaping like a fish for several seconds before starting.

When he reaches the stage, Casca has us shake hands, and the people of Four applaud dutifully. Then we are escorted into the Justice Building, into separate rooms, to say our goodbyes.

My father comes in first. He is not crying, but I can see the pain in his eyes. We embrace, silent at first, but then I remember.

“No one can know,” I whisper. My voice is more frantic than I would prefer, but given the circumstances, I think I am doing alright.

“I won’t say a word. And I’ll pass it on to everyone else.”

“Thank you.”

 Then he steps back, hands on my shoulders, just looking at me. Looking at me like it’s the last time he’s ever going to see me. Which, in fairness, it probably is. I’m eighteen, strong, and good with pointy objects, but in the arena, anything can happen.

After at least a minute, I can stand it no longer. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Goodbye’ seems so final.”

“Your mom always told me, you don’t have to say goodbye, just make sure you don’t leave anything unsaid.”

I shrug. “I guess that doesn’t leave much for us, does it?”

He laughs, then pulls me into a hug. “I love you so much, and you have always made me so proud to be your dad.”

There are tears running down my cheeks. “I love you too. I couldn’t have wished for a better dad. And I’m gonna come home.”

Dad nods. “I know you can do it.”

And then the Peacekeeper opens the door and says our time is up. Dad gives me one last hug, then walks out.

As he exits, Jade and Coral come in. They are both crying.

“Please don’t,” I say, because I know I can be strong for me, but I’m not sure I can be strong enough for all three of us in this moment.

They run to me and wrap me in their arms, still sobbing, but Jade has the good sense to speak so quietly I can barely hear here when she says, “What about Mako?”

“We won’t tell anyone,” Coral says, squeezing my hands. “We’ll get all the kids who know and make sure nobody tells.”

Jade nods, but doesn’t stop staring at me. “Annie, what are you going to do?”

I shrug. “Hope someone else kills one of us before it comes to that. The odds are at least in our favor that way.”

Jade nods again, but she doesn’t seem convinced. “You have to come home.”

“I will,” I say. “I can do it.”

“We know,” Coral says. “If any girl we know can win, it’s you.”

The Peacekeeper is back. Jade and Coral hold my hands all the way to the door, where the Peacekeeper stops me and pushes them away. I can hear Coral sobbing.

Mako’s parent’s come in next. They have been crying. I don’t blame them. Before I can say anything though, Mr. Silther says, “No one will say anything.”

I nod. We are all on the same page then. That’s good. I will not be like the pair from Ten.

We sit in silence for several minutes. None of us know what to say.

When the Peacekeeper opens the door and the Silthers start to leave, I practically shout after them, ��Take care of Dad! Make him come to supper! Please!”

Mrs. Silther turns back to me and nods, her eyes brimming with tears, and then the door shuts again.

My last visitors nearly aren’t all allowed into the room because there are too many of them, but the Peacekeeper takes pity on us, and lets my entire fishing crew crowd in.

Circled around me, they say a rushed Fisherman’s Prayer, asking for calm seas, fair winds, and a worthy ship. Then Rizz claps a hand on my shoulder and says, “Annie, you can win.”

“I know,” I say.

“No, listen to me. You can win. I’m not saying that to comfort you as you go to your death, and I don’t want you saying it to convince yourself that there’s hope. I’m saying it because it’s true. You’re our Tiger Shark. You can win, and you will win, if you remember that. Nobody messes with tiger sharks. You just have to show them that.”

I nod. Rizz means it, and his confidence has given me confidence. He is right. None of the other tributes are brave enough to swim with tiger sharks, but I am. I will win.

The Peacekeeper tells my crew it is time, so we quickly shake hands all around, and they file out. Once Rizz has followed the rest of them, the Peacekeeper escorts me out of the room, down the hall, out of the Justice Building, and onto the platform at the train station. He gestures at the door of the train, so I step inside, and the door closes behind me.

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

Inside, sitting at a mahogany table, are our mentors. Before getting on the train, there’s no way to know who they will be this year. Well, that’s not entirely true. Mags has to be there. Mags, the seventy-five-year-old who won the Eleventh Hunger Games. Mags, who suffered what the doctors said must have been a stroke last year and whose words are now garbled. Mags, the woman who is so kind to everyone. Mags, who somehow won her Games and who helped mentor five others to victory. Mags, who has never been able to keep a girl alive. But the man is a mystery. Nobody really knows how mentors are chosen once you have a pool of potential mentors. It’s been Finnick Odair every year since he won, and before that it was Beck, who won something like forty-five years ago. To my knowledge, the other two have never mentored. But Cellin is a slobbering drunk and Manta had a ferocious temper before he won fifteen years ago, and victory only made it worse. Dad told me Manta has never been a mentor because one of the rules is you have to treat your tributes well, and even the Capitol thinks Manta would be too cruel to be allowed. Cellin, though… District Twelve has a drunk for a mentor every year. Then again, he’s their only surviving victor. Maybe if Beck and Finnick both dropped dead, they’d drag Cellin out. Or maybe Mags would just do it herself like she did for twenty years. Who knows.

I am jerked back to reality by Finnick. Finnick, who is only a year older than me, but has already mentored four groups of losing tributes. I am sure he’s already coming up with a plan. Already hopeful, maybe even confident, that he has a winner this year. A pair of eighteen-year-old fishermen. The odds may not be great, but they are at least in our favor that way.

Finnick gestures at the chair across from him. Mako is sitting across from Mags, staring at nothing. I sit as Casca enters from the front of the car and announces that we will be leaving in five minutes. He walks past us and exits out the back, into another car.

Once Casca has closed the door behind him, Finnick speaks.

“All right, what are you good at?”

“Lobster diving,” I say dryly.

Finnick nods. “Breath-holding,” he says to Mags, who is scribbling on a notepad.

Finnick turns to Mako. “You?”

“Math,” Mako says even more dryly.

“Angles, trajectory, force, velocity.”

Mags nods and keeps writing.

“You again,” Finnick looks back at me.

“Reaching high shelves.”

“Damn it, that was gonna be mine,” Mako says, a hint of a smile in his voice.

“We’ll write it for both.” Finnick turns to Mags, who is decidedly not writing.

“Why?” she says. And then says something else that takes me a few seconds to realize was “It’s obvious.”

Finnick nods again, drums his fingers on the table for a few seconds, then says, “Come on, help me out. We can’t help you if…”

He is still talking, but I am not listening. I am counting fingers, rapid taps and pauses, the occasional use of the thumb. Finnick is saying something about how we will need to focus on the things we don’t know, like edible plants and building fires—and knowing when it is safe to build a fire and when we should never under any circumstances build a fire—when it hits me.

Stop that, I tap.

Stop what? Finnick taps back, still talking, but I can’t concentrate on both conversations.

Alphabet backwards. No point.

Yes point.

And then he stops tapping and is still talking about fires and learning what food is okay to eat raw and what needs cooked.

The train starts with the smallest of lurches. I stare out the window, watching District Four pass us by. After ten minutes, Mags stands up and takes Mako’s hand, leading him to the door at the back of the car.

“Where are they…?” The door closes behind them, cutting me off.

“We have to strategize. Mags and I flipped for it, and this year, honey, I get you.”

This makes me distinctly uncomfortable. For one thing, “honey” is not a term of endearment thrown around by nineteen-year-old boys, or anyone in Four for that matter. Second, I don’t really like the way he is looking at me. I’m sure he’s probably just sizing me up, but something about it is…

“I’m not a piece of meat,” I snap.

Finnick smiles. “No you are not. In fact, I hear you’re a tiger shark.”

I stare. “How do you know that?” It’s just a nickname. Nothing bad. But it is a nickname Rizz and the rest of the crew gave me. It doesn’t get thrown around in school. My friends don’t call me Tiger Shark, my father doesn’t call me Tiger Shark. I start to wonder if Finnick has been stalking me. Maybe the reaping is rigged, and they have known it will be me for months now, so Finnick has studied up. Maybe-

“Don’t flatter yourself, honey. I hear things. Actually, I’m glad they pulled you.”

“I’m not.”

“I don’t expect you would be. But think about it this way. Your crew knows you’re a tiger shark, I know you’re a tiger shark, you know you’re a tiger shark, now you just have to show twenty-three other people that you’re a tiger shark. Understand?”

I tilt my head to the side, scrutinizing him. Maybe Finnick Odair isn’t just a pretty face, though I suspect that is still most of his talent. “A shark won’t mess with you unless it has a reason.”

Finnick nods. “And what did they just give you?”

“A reason.”

“Exactly. So that’s gonna be our strategy.” He pops a grape into his mouth. “I know it was Rizz, and I know the sacred bond a crew has, but we’re going to take that and run with it. Everything is about the Tiger Shark now. You act like one from now on, even more than you already do. You tell Caesar about it during your interview. You exude that confidence, that strength, that will to fight, that unshakeable…”

“Cold-blooded killer instinct?”

“Yeah, that.” A smile spreads across his face. “I just realized—I’ve got two sharks this year. We’re gonna play that. Now, back to business. Who taught you Taps?”

Why that is relevant, I don’t know. “My father.”

“Good for him, makes my job easier.”

“Why?”

“You remember the pair from Ten? Cally and Alvan?”

How could anyone forget them? “Yes.”

“Well, that made me realize how helpful a little secret communication can be. And Taps is all Four has, so I’m glad one of you knows it.”

“How do you know Mako doesn’t?”

“I was watching him after I did the first run of the alphabet. I could see in your eyes you’d get there eventually, so I ignored you until you tapped back. He didn’t have a clue though. Not even a good blank expression to hide it. Just confusion that there was a pattern, but he had no idea what it was.”

“What, and that makes me better than him?”

“No,” Finnick shrugs. “I figure we’ve got an even shot for either of you, but it does mean I can tell you this.” Then then he taps, It has to stay secret. If they find out, they will make you the next pair from Ten.

I nod.

Finnick thinks for a moment, then says, “It puts you at a disadvantage, because you will have to work twice as hard. You have to act, which means your focus will be on acting, on looking normal, and it’s hard to look normal if you’re trying.” He smiles. “But that’s why Mags and I are here. It’s our job to help you.”

I nod again. “Then help us.”

“Don’t worry honey, I will.”

“And stop calling me honey.”

****

****

NEXT CHAPTER

[wickedsrest-rp]

WICKED’S REST CRYPTIDS

There are plenty of strange creatures that live in and around this seaside town, but some of them have been supposedly spotted enough by tourists and locals alike to make them famous. There's even a dedicated cryptid club. With this elevated awareness comes their very own personalized name, origin story, and maybe even a statue or two crafted in their likeness! And you can be sure that all the shops in town that cater to tourists will definitely have some cryptid merch for sale.

Wormy

Local to Harborside, Wormy is a massive serpentine sea monster that’s been spotted in and around the bay. You won’t usually catch a glimpse of it unless there’s a low fog hanging over the water: the creature seems to otherwise stay below the waves. That said, boat sonar will sometimes pick up something very large and very long without any other kind of visual, which is where most of the reports come from. From the few who claim to have seen it with their own eyes, they say it resembles a massive snake with an upward-curved snout, large fins, and barnacles attached to its hide. There’s also a rumor going around that Wormy is the one responsible for the missing boats that wander too close to Storm’s Eye Trench, but obviously there’s no proof of this.

Bigfeet 

Yeah, you read that right. Wicked’s Rest has its very own version of sasquatch, the more appropriately-named Bigfeet. After all, Bigfoot makes no sense. It has two feet, doesn’t it? Some locals claim it’s the original sasquatch that got ripped off by someone who visited the town back in the early 1800’s, but there’s no way to be sure. Whichever one came first, one thing is certain: the tourists love this cryptid. While some sightings have been recorded coming out of Harmony Hill (which are probably a case of mistaken identity), the more likely habitat where Bigfeet can be spotted is, unsurprisingly, the Pines.

Giuseppe

The phrase “it’s like 90% legs” might not be something you expect to hear in the grocery store, but hear it you may: they’d be talking about Giuseppe, of course. A funny looking fella that’s rumored to live atop Serpent’s Flat, the creature is described by those that claim to see it from the viewing stations as tall, lanky, and… well, mostly made of legs. Just two, but the cryptid’s torso is evidently quite stout in comparison, and the distinct lack of arms makes the legs all the more starkly gigantic in comparison. The body is sort of an off-white color, another feature that makes it stand out against the blackened surface of the Flat. How did it get the name? Well, a local Italian restaurant owner claims that her family coined it decades ago when they built up a rapport with the creature after feeding it some meatballs in marinara. Maybe that’s why you’ll find the occasional plate of meaty treats placed around the edge of the Flat?

Gripwing

No cryptid bestiary would be complete without a terror of the skies, and for that Wicked’s Rest has Gripwing, who terrorizes the beach and seas around town. Gripwing is often said to be a giant butterfly, but no one can verify for sure due to its blazing speed as it soars the skies. However, Gripwing’s victims are distinct. They wash up on shore with their chest cavities sliced open with brutal incisions and the heart torn out. This has led to further rumors about blade-like antennae. Interestingly, some of these rumors seem to originate in a local siren colony with what seems like glee. If Gripwing were in actuality a large siren with extravagantly colored wings and ornate feathers, perhaps mistaking it for a butterfly would be understandable… 

Moleman

Everybody knows about the mines. More than that, everybody knows to stay out of the mines. Collapsing tunnels are a real threat, but they’re not the only danger that lurks in the darkness. There is, of course, the Moleman—unimaginatively named by the board of tourism, it’s a creature that is said to dwell in the winding pathways of the immense underground system. Massive in stature and responsible for all the new tunnels that open up (and sometimes make sinkholes in people’s backyards), the Moleman is just that—half man, half mole. Grotesque in appearance, it’s no wonder he uses a disguise to walk among the normal townsfolk. People say that he’s tall with broad shoulders, scruffy and dirty, and perfectly blind. If you see someone like that in town, it may be best to avoid them. 

Bessie

To nonlocals, Bessie is nothing more than a strange choice for a university mascot, but to the locals she’s so much more. Before records of Grotte de Fromage appeared, there were many reports of hearing cow-like wailing from up in the mountain peaks. In reality, Bessie does much resemble a highland cow with long red hair that flows in the wind and horns on her head that always appear to be bloodstained. Don’t worry, it’s not actually blood! Some strange supernatural molds can form in Wicked's Rest which could be the source of Bessie’s cheese cave creating powers. There are several stories attached to Bessie that you’re likely to hear from the college kids in town. Some will say her cries were for the loss of her calves and her hallucinogenic cheese was a form of protection. Others yet say this cow has much more devious plans. Why else would her horns be covered in blood? Aside from the fact they aren’t, but that isn’t nearly as fun a story to tell the freshman you’re trying to scare. While it is rare she ventures away from the depths of Grotte de Fromage, when she does come out of her cave, she eats the grass around her at an alarmingly fast speed for a cow. While mostly harmless, her size does pose a danger so approach with caution… and maybe don’t stand in her way when she’s eating if you happen to like your shoes or feet at all.

Gourdon

Gatlin Fields has their own curious cryptid that seems especially fond of the autumn festivities in that area, with a particular habit of showing up in the Maized and Confused attraction. It is a stout creature, no more than three feet tall, and seems to be covered in brownish-orange fur. Its favorite snacks are pumpkin seeds and mulled wine, the latter of which it can sometimes be seen clutching between its front paws as it trundles through the corn maze. It has a long, thick, furred tail that helps it stand upright when it has a warm beverage to carry around, though no one can say for sure where the heck it actually gets the wine from. Is someone feeding it? It’s possible—the creature seems friendly, if not desperately shy. Getting a picture of it is no easy task, though the Club Cryptid HQ claims to have gotten one on one of their trail cams. Gourdon can appear during other seasons as well, in both Gatlin Fields and the surrounding woods, though it might have a different sweet drink hugged to its chest. 

Deepsnoots

Exclusively present in Jericho Burying Ground, Deepsnoots itself has never actually been seen. Many are familiar with the sight of a lump tunneling through the dirt underfoot, and some claim they’ve seen a strange appendage or mouth of sharp teeth, but none of these descriptions align with each other. What is known is that Deepsnoots moves quickly, and the rapid burrowing can scare off some of the hooligans that want to deface the headstones. Some think Deepsnoots is intentionally keeping the Grounds safe of crime, like some kind of guardian who ought to be celebrated, while others believe it’s motivated by the need to feed on old buried remains. No one has confirmed this. Or really anything. Deepsnoots might just be a regular mole.

Tendrilla

While Seven Peaks is steeped in Tendrilla reverence, even using a dedicated shrine atop each peak, there is little physical evidence that this entity exists. Within town there are many paintings and art pieces depicting her (she is typically thought of as feminine), and most seem to more or less agree on some key details. First, Tendrilla is huge, dwarfing her own shrines. Two, Tendrilla flies or hovers through the air in the same manner flying saucers are often depicted. Three, she emits a beautiful, ethereal glow, and can bathe an entire mountainside in her light. She is often associated with mushrooms due to the unique variety that grows up in Seven Peaks. Some say her tentacles sting, while others say they embrace with love. Some say she has sheet-like fins that blow in the breeze like sails, while others say she is streamlined and sleek. Whatever the case, Tendrilla inspires great devotion, and… well, there have been some huge, mysterious tentacles found in the mountains over the years. 

Mothermoth

Sightings of Mothermoth are most frequently reported in Worm Row, especially in or near the Wormwoods. She’s suspected to be a species of giant silk moth, but most describe her as being about the size of a helicopter or small plane. The huge eye spots on her wings seem to blink. Under a full or nearly full moon, people say her wings take on a bright golden sheen, and some say they were blinded – even permanently – by the moonlight bouncing off them. This reflected light may account for the lack of good photos. Mothermoth’s wings shed golden powder-like scales, and these may have supernatural properties. No one knows anything about where she lays her eggs… or what hatches from them. Some supernatural scholars believe goggies, or a goggie variant, may be the larval stage of Mothermoth’s species. A small group of local entomologists have made it their life’s work to try and prove Mothermoth’s existence and catch her. They’re gonna need a bigger net.

Shaggarok

This ape-like figure has a profusely long coat of white hair that drags in a trail behind it, leaving markings in the dirt and snow. No one knows what it looks like underneath the coat, but people describe a pair of round, glowing eyes peering out from beneath it. Some describe the feeling of being followed before they saw Shaggarok. It has only been sighted in Seven Peaks, especially on snowy days and at high elevations. There are sporadic reports on each of the seven mountains. Most say Shaggarok approached them while they were in trouble in the mountains and freed them from being stuck or chased off an attacking beast. One report vividly describes Shaggarok sucking the hair off a monster after saving someone from it. In actuality, Shaggarok is likely an especially fluffy, white-coated kerashag that seems to be curious about people, though doesn’t like being seen. Even to those who suspect this to be the case, it’s up for interpretation whether that impacts its cryptid status.

The Lighthouse Keeper

You might hear those living along Wicked’s Rest’s coast whispering about “The Keeper”. This mysterious individual is said to haunt the lighthouses along the coastline, luring sailors to their deaths with its ghostly light. Some theorize the Keeper is the ghost of a former lighthouse keeper who drowned in a storm, now seeking to claim the lives of others who venture too close to its domain. Sightings of the Keeper often align with storms and shipwrecks, leading many to speculate that it can manipulate the sea. Despite its fearsome reputation, the Lighthouse Keeper is often depicted as a tragic figure by the locals, doomed to haunt the lighthouses for eternity. Some tales even suggest that it is trying to warn sailors of the dangers of the sea, in hopes of sparing them the same fate that befell it.

Caprifang

Described as a human-sized bipedal goat-like creature with huge fangs, it’s been said that Caprifang has been seen chasing down dangerous prey with immense speed before tackling it to the ground and sinking those uncharacteristic canines into its throat. Local aos sí fae seem to think Caprifang might just be a faun that’s gone mad from loneliness, but none of them have been able to coerce it into conversation long enough to find out. Most who claim to have spotted it say it lives up in the mountains, keeping to itself for the most part—until danger arises. In fact, the folks that believe the beast exists often feel better knowing it’s around the winding trails of the Peaks, for it seems to only have a taste for the blood of monsters, not people. Though if you’re a particularly malevolent sort, maybe you ought to watch out, too. 

Zilch

Some say it’s the Dover Demon that has simply migrated north, curiously drawn to the impact crater out in Gatlin Fields. Others insist this is another creature entirely that only looks similar, but the one thing everyone can agree on is this: the thing that lurks around the crater is not from this world. It is an extraterrestrial, stranded on our planet either by choice or accident, doing its best to keep to itself. The humanoid has a very large head, rosy-tan skin, a lanky body, and most often scuttles around on all fours. Unlike the Dover Demon, however, the large glassy orbs that peer back at tourists from this creature’s head are not orange, but instead resemble the night sky—illuminated pinpricks of white light in an otherwise inky, blue/black backdrop. It is larger than its Massachusetts counterpart, standing a frightening seven feet tall when on its hind legs… or so they say. The most unnerving thing about this alien creature is the way folks claim that it spoke to them telepathically, screeching at them to leave the area inside their minds. Maybe it’s best to just stay away from the crater.

The Cleaver

Late at night on the main roads leading in and out of town, drivers might encounter a creature known as the Cleaver. If you’re wondering how it got this name, well, you needn’t wonder any longer—thought to be the victim of a hit-and-run accident, the Cleaver is a humanoid that is missing its lower half and can be seen dragging itself through the middle of the road by its hands, one of which is clutching a large scythe. If one swerves to miss it or even if they hit it dead on, the creature will clamber up onto the stopped vehicle, rip the driver free, and slice them in half with its weapon… just for sport. So if you’re ever driving somewhere and you see something laying in the middle of the road… just keep driving. Don’t stop, no matter what. 

Thiccopotamus

At first glance, Thiccopatamus, the beast lovingly named by Wicked’s Rest Cryptid Club looks much like a normal hippopotamus aside from the strange orange glow around her. Add in the fact she’s about twice the size, it’s no wonder that the college kids call her “stupid thicc”. Thankfully, most of the club knows to observe her from afar with the cameras they set up around Wicked’s Rest’s State Park. Normal hippos are dangerous enough as is, but Thiccopotamus is even more so with her even larger stature and appetite. While her hippo cousins prefer vegetation and fruits around the river in the lands they’re native to, Thiccopatamus has been known to eat various types of meat, usually in the form of smaller, less fortunate creatures. Yeah, definitely keep your distance.

[carlosguatame]

Unique words from tourism videos

{'bar', 'neon', 'different', 'kinds', 'drinking', 'bag', 'apron', 'bed', 'traffic', 'plates', 'flight', 'row', 'reading', 'lettuce', 'surfboard', 'writing', 'accessories', 'museum', 'glass', 'swimming', 'sides', 'towel', 'hat', 'pile', 'arrive', 'doorway', 'palm', 'bikes', 'case', 'waiting', 'fruit', 'awning', 'map', 'cane', 'something', 'hallway', 'flowers', 'union,', 'plate', 'passenger', 'blowing', 'high', 'cart', 'girl', 'restaurant', 'piece', 'raising', 'clothing', 'kitchen', 'bottles', 'apples', 'guide', 'wine', 'honey', 'mitt', 'hugging', 'box', 'tables', 'characters', 'include', 'pomegranates', 'store', 'belong', 'cloth', 'fruits', 'dusk', 'vegetables', 'umbrellas', 'station', 'orange', 'brochure', 'horses', 'market', 'rear', 'cheese', 'book', 'popcorn', 'farmer', 'laptop', 'acropolis', 'passing', 'drinks', 'logos', 'baseball', 'sculpture', 'garden', 'pages', 'hot', 'farmers', 'video', 'wind', 'seat', 'mirror', 'four', 'donuts', 'busy', 'room', 'paper', 'driver', 'computer', 'wooded', 'sunflower', 'suitcase', 'blue', 'apple', 'shines', 'evening', 'phones', 'set', 'movie', 'sold', 'taking', 'rise', 'books', 'basket', 'shelf', 'display', 'boats', 'wedding', 'magazine', 'little', 'broccoli', 'monocle', 'light', 'structure', 'open', 'wet', 'roman', 'yard', 'types', 'dress', 'party', 'picking', 'european', 'sheet', 'produce', 'kissing', 'onions', 'pulling', 'suit', 'subway', 'oranges', 'posing', 'radishes', 'jet', 'stand', 'umbrella', 'water', 'vehicles', 'outdoor', 'series', 'bottle', 'eggs', 'selfie', 'runway', 'filled', 'women', 'arms', 'cucumbers', 'smiling', 'sunflowers', 'boxes', 'temple', 'red', 'sun', 'beach', 'ancient', 'shopping', 'selling', 'bikini', 'lined', 'tomatoes', 'sale', 'animals', 'inflatable', 'shaking', 'reflection', 'spread', 'living', 'dancing', 'putting', 'travel', 'projector', 'glasses', 'toasting', 'eating', 'shirtless', 'shirt', 'poster', 'fish', 'another', 'cutting', 'game'}

Unique words from local resistance videos

{'plaza', 'sky', 'post', 'skull', 'marching', 'uncorrnit', 'exracchel', 'chairs', 'ledge', 'chair', 'backpack', 'house', 'beard', 'oxi', 'tricks', 'bulldozer', 'helmets', 'face', 'moment', 'concert', 'bird', 'trendy', 'written', 'time', 'barbed', 'barcelona', 'balconies', 'coaster', 'greece', 'tower', 'musical', 'racket', '202', 'nacela', 'watching', 'graffiti', 'wire', 'behind', 'may', 'entrance', 'small', 'giraffe', 'creative', 'bear', 'quote', 'catch', 'razors', 'backpacks', 'ninja', 'backs', 'jumping', 'officers', 'xi', 'ground', 'instruments', 'statue', 'wall', 'purple', 'riot', 'monkey', 'trash', 'skateboards', 'bridge', 'words', 'tax', 'racquet', 'construction', 'court', 'roller', 'protesting', 'unicorn', 'safety', 'fenced', 'exarcheia', 'painting', 'stop', 'battle', '-', 'rock', 'horse', 'vests', 'fence', 'photograph', 'word', 'commonss', 'story', 'metro', 'hydrant', 'stuck', 'officer', 'lamp', 'accordion', 'sill', 'balcon', 'workers', 'motorcycles', 'meso', 'cat', 'feet', 'signs', 'trick', 'site', 'hotel', 'fire', 'en', 'line', 'expaxi', 'police', 'skateboarder', 'wearing', 'ramp', 'since', 'fist', 'path', 'hoodie', 'laptops', 'blurry', 'tennis', 'left'}

Common words between the two types of realities

{'people', 'hill', 'woods', 'stairs', 'lot', 'dark', 'truck', 'hand', 'city', 'driving', 'bunch', 'around', 'banner', 'playing', 'yellow', 'table', 'man', 'logo', 'pictures', 'flying', 'balcony', 'parked', 'plants', 'skateboard', 'laying', 'picture', 'going', 'working', 'phone', 'park', 'outside', 'full', 'fountain', 'walking', 'cell', 'image', 'tracks', 'side', 'sitting', 'text', 'area', 'together', 'clock', 'reaching', 'woman', 'bus', 'street', 'top', 'background', 'photo', 'building', 'buildings', 'luggage', 'looking', 'sidewalk', 'close', 'window', 'bench', 'road', 'airport', 'guitar', 'rain', 'square', 'air', 'aerial', 'long', 'stage', 'hair', 'sign', 'two', 'leash', 'many', 'plane', 'talking', 'person', 'dog', 'front', 'cars', 'black', 'tree', 'says', 'surrounded', 'white', 'riding', 'day', 'screen', 'three', 'group', 'standing', 'tall', 'car', 'food', 'sunny', 'next', 'large', 'hands', 'trees', 'kite', 'men', 'night', 'middle', 'near', 'several', 'motorcycle', 'train', 'back', 'someone', 'grass', 'view', 'bike', "'", 'holding', 'crowd', 'athens', 'frisbee'}

[savingtipsforyou]

Thanksgiving Grocery Essentials: What to Buy

Thanksgiving is all about gathering with loved ones, sharing gratitude, and enjoying a delicious meal. Planning the perfect feast requires organization, preparation, and, most importantly, a well-thought-out shopping list. Whether you’re hosting your first Thanksgiving or are a seasoned pro, this guide will help you shop efficiently and ensure you don’t miss a thing.

From appetizers to desserts, every dish plays a crucial role in creating a memorable Thanksgiving experience. Below is the ultimate shopping list broken down into categories to simplify your preparations.

1. The Star of the Show: The Turkey

No Thanksgiving table is complete without a turkey. Here’s what to consider:

Fresh or Frozen Turkey: Choose based on your preference and the number of guests. A fresh turkey is quicker to prepare, but a frozen one offers more flexibility.

Turkey Alternatives:

Ham

Vegan substitutes like Tofurky or Field Roast

Pro Tip: Don’t forget to order your turkey in advance, especially if you want a fresh one!

2. Stuffing and Gravy

Stuffing adds heartiness to the turkey, while gravy ties everything together. Here’s what you’ll need:

Stuffing Ingredients:

Pre-packaged stuffing mix or bread cubes

Onions, celery, herbs (like sage and thyme)

Gravy: You can buy it premade or use turkey drippings to make it from scratch.

3. Essential Side Dishes

The sides are just as important as the main course. Add these crowd-pleasers to your shopping list:

Mashed Potatoes: Potatoes, butter, milk/cream

Sweet Potatoes: For a sweet potato casserole or candied sweet potatoes

Green Beans: Perfect for a casserole or sautéed dish

Corn: Fresh corn, cornbread mix, or canned corn for pudding

Brussels Sprouts: Roast them with balsamic vinegar for a crispy treat

4. Cranberry Sauce

This sweet and tart side perfectly balances the savory flavors of the meal. Options include:

Canned Cranberry Sauce (for convenience)

Fresh Cranberries and Sugar (if you prefer homemade)

5. Appetizers and Snacks

Keep your guests happy with light snacks before the main course. Here are a few ideas:

Cheese and crackers

Charcuterie board

Deviled eggs

Vegetable platter with dip

Stuffed mushrooms

6. Desserts: The Grand Finale

A Thanksgiving meal isn’t complete without desserts. Stock up on these classics:

Pumpkin Pie: A must-have with whipped cream

Pecan Pie: Rich and nutty

Apple Pie: Perfect with a scoop of vanilla ice cream

Other Options: Cheesecakes, sweet potato pie, or chocolate desserts

7. Beverages

Make sure you have plenty of drinks for your guests:

Wine: Red or white, depending on your menu

Sparkling water and juices

Mulled Wine or Cider: A festive addition

8. Tableware and Decor

Create a warm and festive atmosphere with the right decor. Don’t forget:

Tablecloths, Placemats, and Napkins

Candles and Centerpieces: Pumpkins, gourds, or floral arrangements

Serving Platters and Utensils: Make sure you have large serving spoons, gravy boats, and extra plates

Adding a Creative Twist

If you want to put a unique spin on your Thanksgiving celebration, consider adding some international flair to your menu. For example:

Maple-Glazed Turkey wrapped in bacon

Paella as a side dish for a Spanish touch

Albondigas (Spanish meatballs) and croquettes as appetizers

Thanksgiving Shopping Tips and Deals

Here are some tips to make your Thanksgiving shopping stress-free:

Plan Ahead: Create your shopping list early to avoid last-minute runs.

Take Advantage of Sales: Many stores, including Amazon, El Corte Inglés, and MediaMarkt, offer discounts during Thanksgiving and Black Friday.

Buy in Bulk: Staples like potatoes, onions, and butter often come at a better price when bought in bulk.

Final Thoughts

With The Ultimate Thanksgiving Shopping List, you’ll be fully prepared to host a festive, stress-free holiday. Planning ahead, organizing your list, and shopping smart will allow you to focus on what really matters—spending quality time with loved ones. Happy Thanksgiving, and enjoy every moment of your delicious feast!

[vesselregistrarllc]

The 5 Steps of a Boat Title Transfer

If you’re planning to buy a pre-owned boat, you know that there is going to be some paperwork involved. The same goes if you want to sell a boat you already own. While you can’t transfer the registration for your boat (the new owner will get a new registration), you can do a Boat Title Transfer, which moves ownership from the previous owner to you, or vice versa. Once complete, the new registration process can be done. It’s also important to remember that if it is a registered vessel, you must register any changes with the United States Coast Guard as well. Here’s how to complete a title transfer for a boat.

Step One: Understand the Laws

Before you start on a boat title transfer, be sure you understand the laws that surround the process so that you can get it done correctly the first time around. You also need to check the guidelines put out by the Fish and Wildlife Agency in your state so you adhere to local laws as well. The process is similar to transferring the title for a car.

Step Two: Signatures

Before the boat title can be legally transferred, the current owner must fill out the transfer information, located on the back of the title, and sign it. If you’re buying a boat, the person you are purchasing it from will do this. If you are selling a boat, you will need to do this. In some cases, a notary may need to be present.

Step Three: Application for the Title

Next, you’ll need to visit a tax collector’s office or license plate entity and fill out the application to transfer the title. In addition to your name, address and other personal data, the form also needs you to provide information about the boat. The professional at the agency you choose can help you with this step, if necessary. Fortunately, the process is pretty straightforward so you shouldn’t have any trouble getting it done.

Step Four: Pay Fees and Tax

Before the title for a boat can be successfully transferred, there are some fees and taxes you will have to pay. That includes sales tax for the state in which you are making the transaction. You will also have to pay titling fees and registration fees. The cost of these may vary, but you can get a good estimate from the entity helping you with the transfer so you know what you expect when the time comes to pay.

Step Five: Secure the Title

Once the transfer has been completed and you have the new and updated title in your possession, find a secure place to store it. This should be someplace safe and dry, but easy to access, should you need it. Now is also the time to update the boat’s information with the United States Coast Guard. Are you feeling overwhelmed about the boat title transfer process? You don’t need to be worried when you have the US Vessel Registrar on your side. Contact us today for all of the help you need to facilitate the process of transferring a boat title successfully.

[boatmanufacturermelbourne]

See The Array of Collection: Locate the Ideal Centre Console Boats for Sale

Because of how their harsh, bows and sides are designed, centre console boats for sale are an excellent option for fishermen. Boats with centre consoles are very manoeuvrable without compromising much room for storage! The majority provide usable and useful areas with forward, middle, and aft storage. Additionally, these roomy boats include everything you might want to bring on board, including coolers, bait wells, and rod storage.

https://www.haineshunter.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/Untitled-2-3.png

Sale Of Unique Centre Systems in Australia

The fishing boats and their crew are committed to providing the greatest bespoke centre consoles available for purchase in Australia, and they have demonstrated that Australian-made vessels meet our standards for hull shape. Modern centre console plate boats are built by a family-run company that has a long history of producing commercial fishing vessels and works closely with top naval architects.

All boats are sold with long-term value, a guarantee, and just the precise customisations you choose, all while adding premium finishes to the professionally tested and proven commercial hull designs already in place.

Upkeep Provided by The Book

Since the boating season is limited for many of us, it may be very frustrating when a technical problem prevents us from spending an afternoon or two on the water. In general, modern boats are quite dependable. Fuel quality and battery upkeep are the major causes of problems.

Invest in Your Boat to Make Money Enrol in a Boating Course

Anyone operating a boat is required by law in the majority of states to take an online course on yachting safety and instruction. That's a good place to start, but if you're new to boating, you should go above and above to feel secure and assured about your ability to handle the vessel.

While you generally can't expect to earn a living off of that, some individuals manage to make it work for them. It's certainly possible to cover the boat's expenses and then more.

Source

[canadianaircraftregistry]

Owning a Pleasure Craft in Canada: What You Should Know

Ownership of a Canadian pleasure craft is proven by a bill of sale copy, which should not be confused with either registration or licensing. Neither registration nor licensing can be used to prove ownership of a Pleasure Craft. While these documents support the ownership of your boat, they can’t be used as the sole proof of ownership.

Canadian Ownership and Licensing Requirements A bill of sale copy must be kept on the vessel at all times, along with a valid Canadian vessel licence or registration number. This number, also displayed on the exterior of the boat, is used for identification in search and rescue operations, or similar instances. Comparable to a car’s licence plate, it must be displayed at a height of at least 3 inches (licences) or 4 inches (registrations) in a color that contrasts with the boat’s color.

What is a PCOC? To demonstrate proficiency in operating your boat, you need to possess a Pleasure Craft Operator Card (PCOC). This certification is obtained through an online examination from a Transport Canada affiliate training center.

Keep Your Boat’s Bill of Sale Copy Accessible at All Times Maintaining a bill of sale copy on the boat at all times is mandatory. Once purchased, you have 90 days from the pleasure craft sale date to transfer or obtain your boat’s licence number or registration I.D.

To fill out the licensing application for a new boat, you need government-issued photo identification and your bill of sale. Used boat purchasers need the licence number from the seller for transfer.

What Happens If You Don’t Get a Licence Licensing regulations and processes may vary across provinces. Operating a boat without proper licensing can result in a $250 fine, making it essential to possess both your boat’s bill of sale and pleasure craft license documentation.

Bill of Sale Information for Registering a Boat The bill of sale must contain specific information for ownership purposes:

– Hull Identification Number (HIN)

– Name and port of registry (for larger named boats)

– Buyer(s) and seller(s) names, addresses, and signatures

The 12-digit HIN is unique to each pleasure craft manufactured, built, or rebuilt specifically for selling or operating in Canada. Again, the number has to be positioned where it can be easily visible during operation.

Sellers or buyers must report any name or address changes, which they can do through the Canadian Vessel Registry.

Transfer Deadline Following a Sale Transfers must occur within 90 days. Vessel operation is allowed as long as documentation reflecting name and address changes are located onboard with current owner details.

Requirements for Registration and Licensing Boats with motors of 10 horsepower or more must be licensed according to Canadian Small Vessel regulations. However, registration for a pleasure craft is optional.

You can name your boat and fly the Canadian flag by registering your vessel. You need to register the boat if you take out a marine loan on the watercraft.

Financial and legal experts recommend registration for providing additional ownership proof and facilitating marine mortgage options.

Every three years, Transport Canada inquires about registration/ownership. Verifying your status necessitates confirming your address or any changes in the boat’s specs.

If you obtain a license, you’ll need to renew it every 10 years.

Get Registered Today Do you need to license or register your pleasure craft? If so, you can get the full details when you visit the Canadian Vessel Registry website. Both licensing and registration helps emergency personnel find you if you ever get lost on the waters.

However, registration carries additional benefits. Again, you can give your boat a unique name and fly the Canadian flag. You’ll need to register your boat if you plan to finance it or insure it. Registration is also added insurance, as it makes it easier to navigate Canada’s waterways and stay legally compliant.

So, make licensing or registration easy. Visit the Canadian Vessel Registry now.