#round thin fibre weave

[hairyisgood]

Poolhouse - Poolhouse Example of a huge trendy indoor rectangular pool house design

[jamiecolby]

Contemporary Pool in Melbourne An illustration of a sizable, modern rooftop aboveground pool with decking.

[hasretbhara]

Pool - Pool A large rooftop with a rectangular above-ground pool and decking

[davidstjohnjames]

Melbourne Rooftop Deck Large rooftop water fountain deck idea with no cover: water fountain deck

[in-memoriam-tgwk]

There, in the mouth of a cave, stands a cat.

He stands many lengths below its ceiling, his long tabby fur bristled against a chilly southernly wind, staring into the darkness ahead of him. He has only been in this cave once before; a cat gone seasons before led the way down, down, down to its center, following the ancient limestone walls with twitching whiskers and anticipatory breaths. At its lowest sits a cavern bathed in the blue light of glowing toadstools, full of dripping stone teeth and stale mineral air. It’s where he earned his name from Fate; it’s where he was gifted Her blessing. He remembers looking on in awe and wonder back then.

He stares with less reverence than before. His brow is set and his eyes are steely in the growing dusk hour. No hesitance trips his steps as he walks into the maw of the cliffside.

The darkness quickly eats him whole as he walks, relying on vague memory and intuition to guide him to where he seeks. He walks with purpose, old paws landing one by one on older stone, pushed along by determination and, to a lesser extent, grief. The last time he came here he was promised safety and security, plentiful food and peaceful moons, a life made better by banding together instead of not. She had promised him these things, had filled him with the pain and the warmth of one thousand fires, had given him the lives needed to defend his new family with every fibre of his being. He needs to know why She lied to him.

It left as quickly as it had arrived; sickness weaved its way through the Colony, affecting more cats than not with its rattling lungs and sour stench. Oaktrail and Emma had little time to prepare, and very few herbs to help. It was a battle lost before the fight had begun.

Iciclestalk, Frozentuft, Hailkit. These names hug his mind like a barbed vine, drawing blood as their spines dig into his flesh.

Iciclestalk was older, tall, perhaps too thin even for his age. His brows hung in a perpetual scowl, but there was a softness in his blue eyes. Perhaps he was the only one who saw it; perhaps he was the only one Iciclestalk would let see. The sickness stole the air from his lungs in less than a sun cycle.

Frozentuft, the adopted daughter of Hollyspeckle. She had been healing from a broken bone, having taken a terrible fall two moons prior from the cliffside. She was young, but she was weak. The sickness in the medicine den infected her lungs, and she lost her battle in her father’s paws.

Hailkit was… She was a kit. One of the Colony’s first, the only daughter to Rainpool and Heatherdash. She was spritely and kind, inquisitive and talkative, and had so much more life to live. Her mother became ill, and in turn she did too. She was too young to stand a chance.

Iciclestalk. Frozentuft. Hailkit. Their names slice through his bones like gnashing wolf fangs, alighting the fire burning in his soul. He picks up his pace, scraping against walls, baring his teeth and unsheathing his claws. There is a rage broiling beneath the grief, battering against his ribcage and climbing up his throat, stinging his nose and eyes.

He rounds the corner and arrives to a room of spikes and blue light, and he bellows out the flames scorching in his belly.

“Blasphemy!” he cries out, his raspy timbre echoing out in all directions. He stands, fur bristled not by the wind but by anger and pain, broad and challenging at the mouth of the cavern. He glares eagle talons to the air around him. “Your tongue ought to be fed to crows for the lies behind your teeth!”

He expects no answer, but the rhythmic drip, drip, drip that follows only fuels his fury. “Cowardice is unbecoming,” he continues, venom coating his abrasive taunting. “Reveal yourself to me, o Dictator of Fate, I demand an audience!”

He stalks to the center of the room, surrounded on all sides by stone daggers taller than they are wide, splashing through tiny pools without care or trepidation. He harbors little respect for the One he calls out to.

“I offered my service to You,” he says. “I’ve lived by Your guidance, by Your blessings, by Your will. You promised me— You promised us your protection. You promised our moons would be without strife! You promised!”

He stomps a paw into the puddle he occupies, spraying droplets in every direction. His lips curl as he seethes.

“Tell me, where are Your blessings?! You took my healer from me! You took his mate! You took two warriors in their prime, my mate, a child! You stole a child from her mother! In what way is that a blessing, My Lady?!”

His caterwaul reverberates back to him in antagonizing waves, as though they mock his plight. His claws scrape terribly against silt and stone below.

“ANSWER ME!”

One moment, he is bathed in the pale blue glow of underground fungus. He blinks, and he finds himself in a pine forest. The pine forest, shrouded in cool spring morning mists. His home. His shock cuts through his brimstone ire in an instant.

He opens his jaw to speak, but a translucent white tail just catches the edge of his vision. It flickers, disturbing the fog around it, before disappearing behind a wide tree trunk. He narrows his eyes. “Your ways are no clearer than a muddied pool,” he hisses, trailing after the elusive feline.

He walks until the tree line breaks, and the familiar sight of cliffs and a cascading waterfall greets him. The wisp of starlight zips along with him in tow, across the large stepping stones that disturbs the river’s flow, up the well-worn path that weaves its way up the sharp incline, around the corner…

He pauses. Not for the tail of Fate, which has now hidden itself from view entirely.

Ahead of him, cats of all shapes and sizes envelop his vision; kits come bounding from the Nursery, their mothers following closely behind. Cats with soft, round faces and kitten fluff clinging to their cheeks brush noses with their mentors, ready to start the day right with patrol or training. There are a few he recognizes; his deputy Amberfuzz speaks to a pair of dark grey tabbies and sends them to collect a grey and white cat for what looks like a hunting party, and they brush past him as though he is nothing but a stone on the path. Mottledwhisker presses his muzzle to the head of a grey tabby lying across the sunning boulder, mumbling something intelligible before leaving their side. Oaktrail lounges nearby, and it’s here he realizes something odd; Oaktrail looks to be moons older than the tom cat he knows now. His thin brown muzzle is tinged with silver, and his sallow cheeks are a startling sight.

“Is…” he mumbles, his brows creasing in confusion. “Is this my Colony? My family?”

No voice responds, but a warm breeze blows his fur the wrong direction. It sends tingles up his spine.

“Alright… Why show me this? What do you want to tell me?”

The wind blows harder, buffeting his back with staccato gusts.

“Use your words, My Lady,” he says, glaring to his left. “I know you are capable enough.”

Another gust brushes past his ears, his eyes, his nose— A scent on the wind, warm amber and cool evergreen, painfully familiar. It seizes his lungs. His head whips to the right, and he sees… He sees…

“Hello, old man.”

The voice belongs to a tall frame, an older frame, one perhaps too thin for its age. He’s not thin any longer; he looks strong, well-fed, like a weathered face on a youthful body. His brows are not furrowed, and his soft blue eyes crease at the corners.

“You,” he breathes, unable to keep the quiver from his tone. “You… Mouse-brain.”

Iciclestalk chuckles, the fond expression growing even brighter. “I told you I’d go first, didn’t I?”

The shaking in his voice bleeds into his limbs, and he falls forwards to bury his face in his mate’s neck fur. He inhales the sharp scent like anything else would be inadequate.

“You left me too soon,” he whines, lifting his paws up to circle around Iciclestalk’s shoulders. “Why did She let you leave me? Why did She take you away?”

A tail wraps itself around his own, as Iciclestalk’s response rumbles through his head. “It was my time, love. I was getting old and slow anyway.”

The anger threatens to bubble back up, but his mate’s presence keeps it at bay for the time being. “She took a child, Icy. She took Hailkit… Rainpool didn’t deserve that.”

The tail tightens slightly. “I know, I know… It’s an unfortunate thing. But she is safe with us. Frozentuft, Mousetuft… Cliffclaw and Shinefreckle, too. We’re all safe here.” His tongue rasps gently across his ear, and then his nose nuzzles the top of his head. “Please don’t fret, alright? We’re okay. And the Colony will be okay, too.”

He glances away from Iciclestalk’s neck, towards the bustling camp before them. There looks to be many more cats than he realized, more than who he can recall at home. The confirmation of a surviving generation brings a sort of calm to his troubled heart. The Colony will be okay.

For a long time they rest like that, entwined and pressed together in every place they can, living within the other’s scent in silence. Long is still not long enough when Iciclestalk begins to pull away.

“Don’t go,” he mumbles into the taller cat’s fur, tears prickling behind his eye lids. He feels he’s cried too much the past few days.

Iciclestalk gives him a sad smile, one that breaks his wounded heart all over again. “Not a goodbye,” he replies, tipping his head to bump their foreheads together one more time. “It’s not a goodbye. It’s a ‘see you in a little while’. I’ll be here waiting.”

His eyes open, and just as swiftly as the vision began, he finds himself back in that damp, dreary cave. His paws are soaked nearly to his ankles, sending a shiver up and through his spine in an unpleasant way. He huffs to himself, and glares back and the dagger-encrusted ceiling above.

“If what you’ve shown me is true,” he says, his tone now lacking the ire and accusation from before, “then I expect you to keep your word to me. You will ensure the prosperity of my Colony— my family. I will not let your will be its downfall. Do what you must; I will do the same.”

There, at the mouth of a cave, stands a cat. A warm wind blows in from the north, and in spite of loss, Glowstar cracks a smile; spring has arrived.

[pashminagoatproject]

The Timeless Elegance of Ladakh Pashmina Shawls

Nestled among the stunning Himalayan Mountains in Ladakh, you'll find something truly special – Ladakh Pashmina Shawls. These aren't just fancy clothes; they're a piece of history, art, and the fantastic Pashmina Goat Project. Let's explore the beauty of Ladakh Pashmina and the wonderful story behind it.

Pashmina: The Epitome of Softness and Luxury

To fully appreciate Ladakh Pashmina Shawls, we must first delve into the exceptional qualities of Pashmina wool itself. Pashmina, often referred to as "soft gold," is renowned for its unmatched finesse and unparalleled softness. This precious fabric is derived from the fine wool of the Pashmina goats, which thrive in the high-altitude regions of the Himalayas, particularly in Ladakh.

The Pashmina Goat: A Natural Marvel

Pashmina goats have adapted to the harsh climatic conditions of their native habitat over centuries, resulting in a wool fibre that is astonishingly fine, soft, and warm. It's the cold temperatures and high altitudes that stimulate the growth of exceptionally fine wool in these goats, allowing them to produce a fleece that can withstand freezing Himalayan winters.

The Softness Beyond Comparison

Pashmina wool fibres are extraordinarily thin, with a diameter of less than 14-15 microns. To put that into perspective, it takes about 15-16 strands of Pashmina wool to equal the width of a human hair. This extreme fineness not only makes Pashmina incredibly soft to the touch but also imparts a natural warmth that rivals any synthetic material.

The Ethereal Lightweight Warmth

Despite its remarkable warmth, Pashmina is incredibly lightweight. This quality makes it ideal for crafting shawls and scarves that can be comfortably worn year-round. Whether it's a chilly winter evening or a cool summer night, a Ladakh Pashmina Shawl offers both comfort and style.

The Pashmina Goat Project: Nurturing Tradition and Sustainability

Before we dive into the intricacies of Ladakh Pashmina Shawls, let's shed light on the Pashmina Goat Project. This initiative not only celebrates tradition but also champions sustainability and community empowerment. It revolves around the responsible herding and breeding of Pashmina goats, ensuring the survival of this exquisite breed.

Preserving a Way of Life

The Pashmina Goat Project is deeply intertwined with the way of life of the people in Ladakh. It supports traditional herding practices that have been passed down through generations. This not only preserves cultural heritage but also provides a source of livelihood for local communities.

Conservation of Himalayan Ecosystems

One of the critical aspects of the Pashmina Goat Project is its commitment to conserving the Himalayan ecosystem. Pashmina goats play a vital role in maintaining the delicate balance of this region. By promoting responsible herding practices and discouraging overgrazing, the project ensures that the unique flora and fauna of the Himalayas remain unharmed.

Empowering Local Communities

The Pashmina Goat Project empowers local communities, especially women, by providing them with opportunities for income generation. Women are actively involved in activities like spinning and weaving Pashmina wool, adding to their financial independence and overall well-being.

Promoting Sustainable Practices

This initiative encourages sustainable practices in the fashion industry by emphasising the use of natural dyes and eco-friendly processes. By supporting the Pashmina Goat Project, consumers contribute to the broader goal of sustainable fashion.

The Making of Ladakh Pashmina Shawls: A Labour of Love and Skill

Ladakh Pashmina Shawls are more than just clothing; they are an embodiment of artistry and culture.

Here's a closer look at the meticulous process behind creating these masterpieces:

1. Gathering Pashmina Wool:

The process begins with the annual shedding of Pashmina goats' winter coats. This naturally shed wool is carefully collected, ensuring it retains its quality and softness. The careful handling of the wool at this stage is crucial to preserving its exceptional properties.

2. Spinning and Weaving:

Skilled artisans, often women, hand-spin the delicate Pashmina wool into fine threads. This step requires precision and expertise to maintain the integrity of the wool. These threads are then woven into intricate patterns, a testament to the expertise passed down through generations.

3. Dyeing and Design:

Natural dyes are often used to create vibrant, enduring colours. The use of natural dyes not only ensures the sustainability of the process but also results in rich, timeless hues. The designs, whether traditional or contemporary, reflect the rich cultural heritage of Ladakh.

4. Finishing Touches:

The shawls are meticulously finished, with some taking several months to complete. The final product is a work of art, a Ladakh Pashmina Shawl that's as unique as its wearer. The delicate craftsmanship and attention to detail set these shawls apart as symbols of luxury and tradition.

Wearing Ladakh Pashmina Shawls: Versatile Elegance

Now that we have explored the fascinating journey of creating Ladakh Pashmina Shawls, let's discuss how to wear these versatile pieces of art:

1. Draped Shawl:

For a classic look, drape the Pashmina shawl over your shoulders. Let it hang loosely, showcasing its intricate design and providing warmth. This style is perfect for formal events, chilly evenings, or when you simply want to add a touch of elegance to your outfit.

2. Belted Shawl:

For a modern twist, fold the Pashmina diagonally and secure it with a belt around your waist. This technique not only keeps you cosy but also accentuates your figure. It's a fashionable choice for both casual and formal occasions.

3. Headscarf Elegance:

Don't limit your Pashmina's charm to just your body. Fold it into a triangle and drape it over your head, allowing one corner to fall gracefully over your shoulder. This style is perfect for adding a touch of sophistication to your attire, whether it's for a special event or everyday elegance.

4. Shawl with Indian Outfits:

Ladakh Pashmina Shawls complement traditional Indian attire beautifully. You can drape it over your shoulders as an elegant accessory to a saree or a salwar kameez, adding a touch of luxury to your ethnic ensemble.

5. Casual Comfort:

Ladakh Pashmina Shawls aren't just for formal occasions. They are versatile enough to be paired with casual outfits like jeans and a top. Simply wrap it around your shoulders to add a touch of warmth and style to your everyday look.

6. Travel Companion:

When travelling, a Pashmina shawl is a must-have accessory. It can keep you warm on chilly flights, serve as a stylish travel blanket, or even be fashioned into a makeshift pillow. Its lightweight nature makes it easy to carry wherever you go.

A Legacy Worth Preserving

In a world that's often bustling with noise, the allure of quiet luxury draws us in, reminding us to appreciate the finer things in life. And what could be finer than the delicate embrace of a Ladakh Pashmina Shawl, woven with threads of tradition, sustainability, and empowerment?

Each Ladakh Pashmina Shawl carries a story, a connection to the age-old traditions of the Himalayas, and a promise of sustainability. By adorning yourself with one of these timeless creations and supporting the Pashmina Goat Project, you become part of a legacy that's as enduring as the Himalayan mountains themselves.

A Tradition Preserved: The Pashmina Goat Project

The Pashmina Goat Project is not just about raising goats; it's about preserving a way of life. It's about ensuring that the beautiful Himalayan region remains unspoiled for generations to come. By supporting this project, you contribute to the conservation of an ecosystem that's vital to our planet.

Fostering Sustainable Practices: The Pashmina Goat Project promotes sustainable herding practices that prevent overgrazing and soil erosion, safeguarding the fragile Himalayan environment. This ensures that the pristine beauty of the region remains intact.

Empowering Communities: The Pashmina Goat Project empowers local communities, especially women, by providing them with opportunities for income generation. Women play a significant role in spinning and weaving Pashmina wool, adding to their financial independence and overall well-being.

Preserving Cultural Heritage: By supporting traditional herding practices and craftsmanship, the project helps preserve the cultural heritage of Ladakh. It ensures that age-old traditions are passed down to future generations.

A Future of Sustainability: With your support, the Pashmina Goat Project is creating a future where tradition and sustainability go hand in hand. It's a future where we can enjoy the elegance of Ladakh Pashmina Shawls while knowing that our choices contribute to a better world.

The Ethical Fashion Choice

Ladakh Pashmina Shawls represent more than just a fashion statement; they are an ethical choice. In a world where fast fashion often comes at the cost of the environment and workers' rights, Pashmina shawls stand as a beacon of ethical fashion.

Sustainable Production: Pashmina shawls are made using sustainable practices, from the responsible herding of goats to the use of natural dyes. This ensures that the production process has a minimal impact on the environment.

Empowerment: Purchasing a Ladakh Pashmina Shawl supports local communities, especially women, providing them with fair wages and opportunities for economic independence.

Timeless Style: Unlike fleeting fashion trends, Pashmina shawls are timeless. They can be cherished for years, reducing the need for constant consumption and waste.

Quality and Luxury: When you invest in a Ladakh Pashmina Shawl, you're investing in quality. These shawls are known for their durability and the luxury they bring to your wardrobe.

Wrapping in Tradition, Sustainability, and Elegance

Ladakh Pashmina Shawls are more than mere pieces of fabric; they are the embodiment of tradition, sustainability, and elegance. Each shawl carries with it the heritage of the Himalayas, the artistry of skilled craftsmen, and the promise of a better future through the Pashmina Goat Project.

By adorning yourself with a Ladakh Pashmina Shawl and supporting the Pashmina Goat Project, you become part of a legacy that's steeped in history and committed to a sustainable future. So, the next time you elegantly drape a Pashmina around your shoulders, remember that you're not just wearing a piece of clothing – you're wrapping yourself in a story, a culture, and a promise to cherish and protect our world for generations to come. Embrace the elegance, the warmth, and the tradition; embrace Ladakh Pashmina Shawls.

Regenerate

The Fascinating World of Pashmina Shawls, Insights, Pashmina Expert Inputs on What is Real Pashmina, Research and Impact by the top most Credible Sustainable Pashmina Brand and most credible Pashmina seller of Kashmir and Ladakh, The Pashmina Goat Project. Dive deep into the captivating journey of Pashmina shawls, as revealed by the Pashmina Goat Project. Discover the inspiring stories of Pashmina artisans, shepherds, and craftsmen, and explore the sustainable and ethical practices shaping the future of this pashmina industry. Explore the enchanting realm of Pashmina shawls through the remarkable lens of the Pashmina Goat Project, a pioneering initiative that is transforming the Pashmina ecosystem.

Learn about the journey of the Founder Babar Afzal and the  credibility of the Pashmina Goat Project’s Pashmina Shawls, profiled by renowned publications like TIME Magazine (Genius Issue), BBC, Bloomberg and Pashmina Goat Project’s mission to disrupt the USD 4 Billion Dollar Pashmina industry in favour of the marginalised communities across Himalayas. Discover the unique story of a former Silicon Valley techie turned Pashmina goat shepherd, as covered by MINT, and how he is revolutionizing the Pashmina ecosystem. Delve into the preservation and exclusivity of Handmade Kashmiri Pashmina Shawls, as celebrated by fashion czars and covered by Fashion Network, Better India and DNA. Uncover the secrets of Certified Pashmina Shawls, their authentic production process, and the challenges faced by this age-old craft.

Join the Sustainable Pashmina Dialogue, a global platform created by Pashmina goat Project bringing together experts to discuss sustainable luxury, quiet luxury, and the environmental impact of Pashmina shawls. Explore the ethos behind the Pashmina Goat Project's unique color palette based on UNSDG (Sustainable Development Goals) Merchandise and Gifts. Gain insight into the project's role as a catalyst for change, recognized by the Government of India as a Startup, and its commitment to fair trade, community impact, and environmental preservation.

Embark on an inspiring journey with Pashmina shawl makers, goat shepherds, weavers, craftsmen, and craftswomen from Kashmir, Changthang, and Ladakh. Discover the wisdom shared in the book "Wisdom of Shepherds" by Babar Afzal, the most credible voice and man on Pashmina Shawls and a respected authority in the Pashmina world, acknowledged by national and international media networks and celebrated for his work globally. Find inspiration in the stories of Pashmina artisans, offering valuable lessons for startup founders, individuals, school students, women, and millennials. A small campaign started by a Pashmina Weaver and Pashmina Community Campaigner Henna Anjum #WhoMadeMyPashmina starts to create ground level impact for the women Pashmina weavers.

Embrace the captivating world of Pashmina shawls and join the Sustainable Pashmina Dialogue, a global sustainability movement. The Pashmina Goat Project, with its unwavering commitment to ethical practices, fair trade, and environmental sensitivity, is leading the charge towards a brighter future for this timeless art form. Unleash your awareness as a conscious consumer and embrace the allure of The Real Pashmina, a symbol of tradition, craftsmanship, and sustainability. You can also join The Real Pashmina Affiliate Program and become an Ambassador of Quiet Luxury Pashmina Shawls while you earn huge commissions through promotion of the community products.

[cclust]

Poolhouse - Contemporary Pool

[eastawaywest]

Poolhouse - Poolhouse

[brooklynislandgirl]

Beth & Riggs!

All Hands || -

who wakes up first in the morning

Martin doesn’t wake up in the morning.In fact the only way Beth can properly describe it is…from an article she read, wherein researchers from the University of Glasgow observed four groups of loops inside a solar flare. It was said by one Doctor that the event was a great example of a simultaneous implosion and explosion. The energy transferred from the magnetic field to power the flare left a pocket of reduced support that caused the implosion. After a series of scientific ballet steps, the flare loops oscillated until they found a new equilibrium in its plasma.Yeah, that sounds about right. Bolt upright. Legs and arms akimbo, stretching outward. His hair trying to drag him back down or strangle him for the impertinence. That space and time where he’s not sure which way was up and what was dream and reality and the inevitable shock and disappointment when he finally grasps where he is. She throws a leg over his table, a flesh and blood barrier reef between him and the weapons stashed around that she could find. Spoons another mouthful of Fruity Pebbles and chews slowly, quietly as she can. “Mornin’ Texas.”

That malicious glare thrown her way. If looks could maim….“I’m going to assume there’s no bacon to go with that sugar infested monstrosity you’re grazing?”“Of course. Ya jus’ goddah wan come get it.”Finger guns. “I knew I kept you around for a reason, Hawaii.”

who’s the first to fall asleep at night

She doesn’t really sleep.At least, not the way normal people do, and that suits him just fine. He’s not normal by any stretch, and almost welcomes the fact that she isn’t either. He did notice however that she had a habit of drifting off round her third beer, her fourth glass of wine. He’s half into his own bottle when she slumps down at the table. Few minutes later, even and deep breaths. She’d have made a good SEAL he thinks, because that is a survival skill. He gives up his blanket. Tucks her in. Settles down on his couch, arm across his eyes, nursing the bourbon. Maybe an hour goes by, maybe longer and it starts. The fidgeting. The puppy kicks. Sometimes there’s one sided conversation. Sometimes she’s just running ~swimming~ away from something.The first time he witnesses a night terror, he think she is having a cataleptic fit. Every muscle petrifying as he watches, helpless. A strangled breath that is soundless. Eyes open, staring into the dark of the trailer. Wherever she’s gone, whatever is happening, it’ss somewhere he can’t reach her. He’ll never admit it out loud, but that…that scared the shit out of him.

It was shortly after that when he buys the air mattress. Another blanket. Spare pillows. You know, Hawaii, contrary to popular opinion, I am civilised. She doesn’t make a fuss about it. Most of the time, he waits until she is asleep. Sometimes, he doesn’t. But he ends up joining her more nights than is seemly. Spends hours awake on his back, staring up at the ceiling, carding fingers through her hair. That’s just what friends do.

what they playfully tease each other over

“Chea'ah!”“Did you just call me ‘Chia’ as in Chia pet? Or as in the spotted fast running cat, cheetah?”“No. Chea-ah. CHE-AH. Li'dat one who cheat.”When her face gets red like that, her freckles come out. The ones that cup the left side of her mouth. The ones that dot her nose. Her eyes glitter and she snarls. He kind of likes her teeth. Sharp. A little crooked. Not often seen unless she’s smiling or…fixing to rip his throat out.“Do you have photographic evidence of the alleged cheating, Hawai’i?”“No?”“Then your skating on thin ice. Filing a false report is a violation of Section-”She lunges across the table, cutting him off at the best part.By the time they’ve hit the floor and ended up feet away, multi-coloured fake money and little hotels that will later be found in very uncomfortable places {boots, hair, under the stove}, they’re laughing and have forgotten why.And maybe, just maybe, Riggs admits to himself, he does it on purpose.

what they do when the other’s having a bad day

She knew the second her call went to voice-mail that something was wrong.Martin doesn’t ignore her calls. Mr Murtaugh doesn’t answer his either.It’s weeks before she hears from either of them, and by then she’s canvased the usual suspects: the morgues, the hospitals, central processing, everywhere she can think of. Because of course she would assume the worst.By the time he drags himself into the trailer, she’s torn between wanting to strangle him and…oh.Oh.The look on his face says it all and she can’t find the moral fibre to ask him where he’s been. Instead she reaches for the bottle just above the stove. He drops his bag at his feet, barely has the energy to close the door behind him. His arms find her waist, and he buries his face into her neck. Bends him a bit, she’s so much smaller than he is, and yet she holds up mountains.

how they say ‘i’m sorry’ after arguments

“So, lemme get dis straight. Mexico. Tito. Dead in ya trunk. IAB investigation. Suspension. Uhm. Dere any kine else I should know?!”

Though soft, her voice is awed. Not in pride. There’s too much fear and worry, tinged with an anger at the situation and maybe a little bit at him. Because she knows, she knows without a shadow of doubt, that Martin had done all these things without the intention of ever coming back from it. Which is why he looks so lost now. Why she can practically taste the whiskey on his breath. The way he shakes in her arms. Because even after all of this? She hasn’t managed to let go.

He murmurs under his breath and she can’t make any of it out, except it’s rough timbre. The vibrations of his voice against the lower part of her shoulder.

“...Said ‘M sorry, Hawai’i.”

She believes him. Not because of the words. It’s in the way his fingers twist in the back of her shirt. The way he shakes even if it’s so subtle no one else would notice. It takes all the fight right out of her.

Fingers lose themselves in his hair. And she hugs him closer.

“I know. An’ if ya evah do dat again, Martin, I’ma find ya an’ break every bone in ya body.”

which one’s more ticklish

She shrieks like something dying.

Squirms, kicks. Digs nails in wherever they can find purchase and tries to drag herself away.  

It’s no good. Martin has a hold of her ankle and refuses to let go. He also has a feather though that becomes fingers against the delicate arch. The devil’s in his eyes. That very foot gets set up on his shoulder, because he’s a stupidly brave man. Goes for her knees. A new scream of laughter that could deafen someone at twenty yards and peel paint right off the walls.

By the time he’s gotten to her waist, they’re dishevelled. She’s got both legs wrapped around his middle and is putting every ounce of her strength to prevent his forward progress. His hair and shirt will never be the same, they’re both red and breathless from exhaustion.

And of course, OF COURSE, Andrew Riley misunderstands the situation.

“The Fuck’re you doing?”

Neither can be sure which one he’s addressing but they answer in unison.

“Unnawaddah basket weaving.”

“Sky-diving into a vat of marshmallow fluff and whiskey.”

their favourite rainy day activities

It starts by waking up on the beach, the pounding surf whisper-screaming a warning and the gulls aren’t numerous and loud. Or maybe it’s the cold that gets them, unseasonable compared to the night before. By the time he’s fully aware of his surroundings and brushing sand off his skin, she’s sitting with her back to him, knees drawn up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. The wind picks up her hair, flies it behind her like a tattered, dark banner.

“Storm comin’ in.”

There’s something wistful in her tone that has nothing to do with the surf conditions. He drops down behind her, palms smoothing their way up from elbow to shoulder in the slowest meander he can manage. She gets a little lost like that sometimes, and for the life of him, he can’t figure out why, or where she really goes inside her head. But he gives her the same courtesy and comfort that she offers when he does the same. They stay that way until the rain comes slashing in, cutting like knives, and the lightning starts.

The rest of the day is spent cooped up inside his trailer. He doesn’t mind the feel of her nestled between his legs and draped across his chest. When she curls up, she doesn’t take up much room. And the blankets are piled up too, making a warm cocoon around them.

They listen to the rain. To the radio. Drowsing in and out of consciousness with nowhere to be and nothing that needs to be said. Sure they shift around for the sake of comfort and it never fails that they have to take turns moving so the other can hit the head, after drinking coffee and cocoa.

“Hey, Texas?”

“Yeah?”

“Y’evah....”

“Nope.”

“Me, eiddah.”

how they surprise each other

It’s nothing cinematic. Little notes left in a desk drawer in purple sparkly pen encouraging him day by day. A hot cup of coffee waiting for her in the morgue before she slips in to work. A picked up dinner because the other knows no one thought about it over the long hours. Fingers laced together when least expected. A drive down to Mexico because why not?

And that’s what makes them so solid. It’s nothing like those tv-show dramatic revelations or soap-opera twists. And honestly, it’s better this way because neither one of them handle big things well.

Okay, so maybe it was the salsa dancing lessons that really got her, and how she kept smiling at him all night. {{Nevah knew ya had dose kine moves, Texas.}}

Or the way he was mesmerised by watching her field strip and clean his M-16, shaving a good forty seconds off his personal best {{next time, blindfolded, Bethany.}}

their most sickening shows of public affection

“So, I come out of the john and I’m looking around and looking around, because I was only gone like a minute tops. It’s like you gotta put an RIFD tag in them ~do you think they’d notice if I did?~ But anyway, so I’m searching through the typical Saturday crowd and then what do I see?

“Riggs, strolling down the boardwalk carnival fuckin’ thing, as if it’s goddamn Coney Island, and he’s wearing my sister like a backpack! A BACKPACK! Legs wrapped around his hips, one arm across his shoulders. And the other hand, she’s feeding him tufts of cotton candy. And this asshole, occasionally holding up his Coke next to his head so she can lean in and take sips! Who does that, Gamble?!”

Brian isn’t sure what’s funnier, the red in his partner’s face, the vein throbbing in his temple, or the outrage at something that while, yes, not exactly normal, is not the worst he’s personally seen with years on the Job.

“Sounds...horrifying.” This is accompanied by an eye roll in Riley’s direction in the most sarcastic way Gamble can manage. “Still. Could be worse. There’s this one picnic table at the pier that’s just out of sight from the Boardwalk and from the beach and if you spread a blanket on it, you can spread other th-”

He’s cut off by having to duck the stapler launched across at him. Which only makes the former Ranger laugh harder. Practically chokes on his coffee when there’s a particular drawl behind him.

“Y’all are just highly envious that A....She likes me better, maybe because crazy as I am I actually respect her...and B....no cotton candy for either of you.”

[manju20mba]

Understanding the Convenience of Online Shopping for Blankets

Finding the correct blankets for the bedroom is an essential step. To know more about how to buy weighted blanket online in India, keep reading.

 Blankets are a need in every home, whether for aesthetic purposes (to complete a bedding set) or for practical ones (to provide additional warmth in the winter). However, keep in mind that not all blankets are the same and there are too many options when you opt to buy blankets online in India.

 Is the purpose of this blanket purchase thermal insulation or only aesthetic? Before settling on the right blanket, think about questions like these.

 We've compiled this shopping guide to help you choose the perfect weighted blanket online india for your needs.

 Considering These Factors Before Purchasing a Blanket for Your Bed

 Words like "soft," "warm," and "cuddly" spring to mind when one considers the comforts of a blanket. The next step is to sleep soundly with that crucial piece of cloth tucked under your pillow. Your blanket is extraordinary. It makes us feel safe and secure and is especially nice to have while we're sick.

 A wide selection of sizes, colours, and fabrics to pick from while blanket online shopping. Several are plain colours, while others sport adorable patterns or decorations. Blankets also come in a wide variety of weaves and textures. Regardless of the season, you can stay toasty warm during the winter and comfortably cool during the summer with the appropriate blanket.

 Pick the Proper Measurement

 It would be best if you got a big blanket to cover the mattress and give you some extra material to tuck in at the sides and bottom of the bed. Sizes might vary somewhat from one brand to another.

 Fabrics

 ●       Cashmere

 The Cashmere goats used to make this fabric are grown in places as diverse as Tibet, India, and Pakistan. Since cashmere is far more luxurious than standard sheep's wool, it is often chosen over other textiles. Additionally, the increased insulation will keep you warm on those chilly winter evenings.

 ●       Cotton

 Cotton's plant-based fibres maintain durability even after several washing cycles, making it an ideal material for clothing. Soft and fluffy textiles may be made from the staple fibre cotton. India, Africa, and the Americas are just a few tropical and subtropical places where this plant thrives. Cotton may be utilised in any fabric since it can be spun into thread or yarn.

 ●       Fleece

 Soft, lightweight, and suitable for any weather, fleece is an all-year-round go-to fabric. Fleece is exceptionally soft and cosy while being thinner than other textiles. This fabric's acrylic fibres are what make it what it is. Fleece is popular due to its low cost and ease of care in washing machine.

 ●       Down

 Goose or duck feathers are used to stuff down comforters, making for a dense and fluffy blanket that is the best insulator yet still allows air to circulate. Down is so popular because it keeps you warm without being cumbersome. Also, it is one of the best choices if you are looking for a weighted blanket for anxiety adults.

 ●       Wool

 Wool is dense, toasty, and insulating while yet letting perspiration escape. Many are sensitive to wool, but this is the blanket for you for those who don't mind a little weight and bulk.

 Weave

 It's not only the materials used to make a blanket that may vary in weight and warmth, but also the weaving. Here are a few options when considering weighted blankets to buy online.

 ●       Thermal

 A thermal weave is often seen in cotton blankets and is loose, allowing air to travel freely. These thin blankets are perfect for the warm weather.

 ●       Knit

 Knitted blankets are thick and toasty. Wool or synthetic fabrics are used for them.

 ●       Quilted

 Most down blankets are quilted to prevent the down or down replacement from sliding around within the blanket.

 ●       Conventional

 Because of the closeness and tightness of the traditional blanket's weave, it is particularly effective in trapping warmth.

 Upkeep and Cleaning

 Machine washing is a quick and easy way to clean most blankets, but exceptions exist. Therefore, read the care instructions thoroughly before making a purchase if you want a blanket with a simple washing procedure.

 Comfortable blankets are not scratchy ones. Of course, it's up to you, and we're all busy, but it might be a good idea to check out what's available in shops before making a final decision online. It's been shown that many customers feel more at ease making purchases online after reading positive evaluations of the goods in question.

[thehuggamugcafe]

Future Diary: Episode 1: Sign Up I

“Darling? Can you hear me? You can stop playing pretend now.”

“It was funny the first five minutes, but... You’re starting to worry me, love.”

“Hey. Hey. Stop playing around already.”

“Sweetheart. If you don’t answer me... I will be very upset with you.”

Small, ragged pants left the chest of an eighteen-year-old high school student, his hands pressed over the chest of another eighteen-year-old high school student who lay on the ground in front of him. It was a girl, and a girl who was unnaturally still at that. A pair of round, black-framed glasses were off to the left, having been tossed aside in frustration mere moments ago. The spectacles’ glass frames were cracked, splattered with droplets of blood, both wet and dry.

The third-year swallowed a light gulp, his onyx eyes staring down at the unresponsive female senior, his hands folded over each other as he compressed the girl’s chest, trying to revive her... No, hoping to resuscitate her.

“Come on, darling, come on. Just breathe. That’s all you have to do now. Breathe,” he whispered to the unusually still high school girl, his voice hinting of the sheer desperation he felt as it bubbled up inside his chest.

The senior’s face was the picturesque example of a poker face, but the intensity of his onyx eyes, and the clear hints of heartache in his voice, in the words he uttered betrayed his true feelings. His pupils had shrunk to pin-sized pricks, small beads of sweat glistened as they trailed down from the perspiring crown of his forehead, and his hands were clammy, shaking.

“It’s over. It’s all over. Everything’s okay now. Understand? You understand right, sweetheart? You understand... You understand, don’t you? Don’t you!? If you understand, then answer me! Say something, please!”

The third-year’s voice possessed a dark undertone, his onyx eyes slowly but surely losing any warmth they might have previously held. The young man’s eyes shone with a cold light as they darkened, but he kept pushing his folded hands down over where he knew the still girl’s heart was, praying for a response.

A gasp or a whimper of pain. Fluttering eyelashes. Twitching fingers. A soft whisper of his name. A murmur of concern for him.

Anything at all would have been fine to the eighteen-year-old senior. A response would assure him that his love was safe, that she was okay, that the plan had worked just as he had promised her it would. More importantly... He would be assured that she was alive, above all else.

However...

There wasn’t a response.

No gasps or whimpers came from the unnaturally still girl. Her eyelashes didn’t flutter. Her fingers didn’t twitch or move in the slightest. No whispers came from her lips that were slowly taking on a light shade of blue. No murmurs came from the mouth he adored to kiss with his own, lick with his tongue, and gently nip with his teeth.

His love was completely still.

She was unresponsive in every sense of the word.

She wasn’t moving.

She wasn’t breathing at all.

She was... She was... She was... She was-!

“...No. No, no, no. It... It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”

Frantic whispers left his mouth, his hands shooting up from the girl’s chest as though he’d been jolted with an electric shock, as though a hot surge of lightning coursed through his fingers that tingled, his hands that trembled.

“I need to... I need to fix this... I need to fix her... But how...?”

“Isn’t it obvious, you noob?”

A voice spoke from behind him, causing his attention to snap over his shoulder, staring at the owner of the voice as they—no, she—stepped out from the shadows.

“...It’s you...”

“The one and only,” came the nonchalant reply.

The senior’s onyx eyes continued to stare as the owner of the voice hummed, stepping forward with her hands clasped behind her back. The heels of the black knee-high boots she wore tap-tapped over the floor as she approached the frizzy-haired, onyx-eyed high school student. A mischievous smile curled her lips as she raised a hand, daintily readjusting the round glasses that were perched on her nose.

“So... You won the game to end all games, huh? You weren’t the golden egg the boss favoured, but meh... Who cares about that? You’re the new boss now... So, Boss...”

The third-year student narrowed his eyes at the title he was evidently saddled with, something which the girl took notice of. However, she simply shrugged her shoulders in an uncaring manner.

“Whatcha gonna do now?”

“...Take me to a world where she’s still alive.”

The request hung in the still air for a few moments, a few moments that felt like a fleeting glimpse of eternity before, finally, the girl’s glasses appeared to glint as she smiled, a laugh worthy of a trickster leaving her lips.

“’Kay, Boss.”

A psychedelic haze of red and black swirled before his vision, encompassing the mundane and sombre room, making way for a new world as it sucked him into a brief, dream-like state that took the form of a deep, soothing shade of velvet blue.

This would be his second chance to set things right; he wouldn’t forgive himself for any mistakes this time.

This time he would see to it that she lived, no matter what.

This time he would see to it that she emerged from this preposterous game as the crowned victor, a lone goddess worthy to ascend to the throne she deserved to sit on.

There was nothing he wouldn’t do if it was for her, but more importantly... Above everything else...

She had to survive.

His entire plan hinged on her perseverance. If she happened to die at any point, he would simply win the absurd game, ask a certain someone to reset the world, and start all over again.

He would make certain that she alone survived. He burned with resolve as hard as a steel blade put to a blacksmith’s forge, determined to see his plan come to fruition.

He would do anything, anything at all to ensure she lived to the end, however bitter it may be.

If they posed a danger to his love’s safety, he would even kill those who weren’t participants.

He thought it was unfair that the light in his dark life was one of the participants chosen by some God, a God who’d spent who-knew-how-many millennia on the throne. It was incredibly unjust for her to be one of the twelve poor, dismal souls chosen to participate in a free-for-all game that pitted stranger against stranger, family member against family member and, if the participants were really unlucky, lover against lover.

All he wanted was to live a long, happy life with his beloved, but unfortunately, the twisted kill-or-be-killed game prevented him from living the one good dream he wanted to become reality. What he wanted to have more than anything else in the whole world.

He was forbidden from realizing his most treasured dream, wanting to be with the one who caught his eye, who ensnared his sanity, and who had unknowingly stolen his heart.

However, now...

Now all he could do was traverse to another world she resided in but, sadly, didn’t accept him. A world where she didn’t even know that he existed at all—but that was alright. He was fine with that.

It didn’t matter to him in the slightest if she knew of him.

It didn’t matter if she didn’t acknowledge him, either. Because...

If she didn’t acknowledge him... He would make her notice him.

If she didn’t accept him... He would befriend her, offer a reassuring shoulder to lean on, playing his part as a concerned acquaintance.

If she didn’t love him... As he had done before, he would steal her affections before she knew what happened.

She’d plead for his assistance; he knew she would. Her chances of surviving on her own were slim at best, and nonexistent at worst. Once she affirmed the dire consequences for what they were, a sure-fire death sentence for her... Once she accepted the nightmarish reality to not be a dream, but a cold, hard slap to her beautiful face...

She would come running into his arms, asking for his protection, begging for his help.

The thought brought a cocky grin to his lips, a rare and uncharacteristic expression for someone who appeared to be a quiet, soft-spoken, and mild-mannered high school student. It was an expression he wouldn’t pull off around just any random person.

The smug smirk that curled his lips. The smile that betrayed a glint of his pearly whites.

Such a cocksure visage was reserved for one person and only one person.

The only one who could cause such a reaction was the same person whom he loved with every fibre in his body.

The one who could cause happy, pleasant feelings to stir inside him. Feelings that no one else aroused in him.

The person in question was a girl, an eighteen-year-old senior who attended his school.

The girl he’d kill for.

The girl he’d die for.

That girl was none other than you.

[Unknown Location, Bedroom.]

11/9 22:00 (10:00 P.M.)

“Arrest.”

Drip.

“Trial.”

Drip.

“A whole year...”

Drip.

“A whole year of probation, huh? After that...”

The steady drip drip of a faucet in the bathroom down the hall echoed throughout the dimly lit darkness as its constant, never-ending drip noise was shoved into his ears, weaving through the still air from a few rooms down the hall. He breathed in a soft sigh as the back of his head was cradled in the palms of his hands, his eyes staring up at the ceiling of his room before flicking a glance at the door of his bedroom that was ajar, allowing a thin stream of fluorescent light to glare into his bedroom from the staircase landing.

His covers rustled as he moved, his mattress shifted as he slid off of the bed, the bare soles and toes of his feet touched the plush carpet of his room. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his lounge pants, pausing only to remove a hand from the depths of a pocket, his right hand, and swipe his cellphone off of the end table next to his bed. He pointed his eyes down as he walked, stopping in front of the door of his bedroom, turning the phone on. A smile curled his lips as his eyes stared down at the small, glowing screen of the phone he held in his right hand.

Several noteworthy messages stared back at him, quietly reading the messages before his eyes were pulled off of the screen, glancing up just enough to open his bedroom door and begin walking down the dimly lit corridor. His eyes flicked back down at the small, glowing screen of his cellphone, staring at the messages that he’d been typing on his phone whenever he saw a certain someone.

11/9 15:30 (After school)

I watched her leave the gymnasium from a window outside. My sweetheart looked troubled. Did the PE teacher pester her again? That bastard... If I ever see a cut, a bruise on my Treasure... I won’t forgive him, teacher or not.

11/9 15:40 (She leaves school)

I waited just outside the girls’ locker room, to make sure my sweetheart was okay. I made sure to stay out of sight, but I could hear them... The other girls... Sneering, laughing at my beloved. How dare they... What has my darling done to earn their ire? ...Well, no matter. Any girl who isn’t her is worthless to me.

11/9 15:50 (Grocery store)

I saw her at the grocery store. I followed her inside, making sure she was in my sight the entire time. It seems that my darling was sent on a shopping errand today. She bought some of her favourite snacks. Her smile is as beautiful as always.

11/9 16:20 (Her walk home)

My Treasure is such a clumsy girl. On her way home she tripped over a crack in the sidewalk, sending the contents of a few bags spilling out on the ground. I helped her gather the groceries, and offered to make sure she arrived home safely. She seemed hesitant at first, but she accepted after thinking about it. She smiled at me; she thanked me for my help. Ahh... A wonderful smile for a wonderful girl... Such kind words she spoke, fitting for a lovely girl such as her... Does your beauty know no bounds, my sweetheart?

11/9 16:30 (She arrives home)

I watched from the large oak tree in her yard, watching as she entered her home safely. I’m so relieved, but... She looked a bit upset. I wonder what happened...? She seemed happy earlier... I’ll stay behind a bit longer, and make sure she’s okay. Everything’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here, watching over you.

11/9 16:40 (Her home)

I climbed the oak tree a bit higher, to peer into her bedroom window. She looks adorable no matter what she does, even when she’s studying for a test.

11/9 16:50 (Her home)

It seems her grandparents will be late returning home tonight. I don’t want to leave, but I don’t want to get caught peering into her house. I won’t be able to keep an eye on my darling from inside a prison cell, will I?

He glanced up from the screen, smiling as he stopped in front of the bathroom door, pausing as he caught the gentle illumination coming from his cellphone screen.

From behind him.

“What...?” he murmured, blinking owlishly as he felt a sudden stabbing sensation zeroing in on his side.

He breathed a gasp, spluttering up blood as crimson stained his lips. His cellphone fell from his hand, clattering as it hit the floor, splatters of red staining the exterior of the cellular device and coating the lit screen.

The young man coughed up a pained groan, pressing a hand to his bleeding side as he was roughly shoved to the wall adjacent to the bathroom, producing another weak noise that hinted of the pain he was in.

Again and again he felt the same stabbing sensation, gasping, groaning, and voicing soft pleas of “stop!” as he was hit again, again, and again. His begging fell on deaf ears, hearing only a devilish laugh that reminded him of an escaped asylum patient.

He felt darkness encroaching upon him, voicing a soft gasp as an icy sensation washed over him as he rolled over onto his back, staring up into a never-ending abyss.

Or so he thought.

He heard footsteps, soft footsteps approaching, stopping just within an arm’s reach of him. The silhouetted figure stooped down, collecting the cellphone that was besmirched with crimson stains in their hand, holding a blood-stained knife in another hand. The red-smeared blade glinted in the dimly lit moonlight from a nearby window, and as the figure stepped into the gentle illumination as it shone upon their face, his eyes widened as he breathed a gasp of horror, of confusion.

Why would this person do this? To him of all people? After all, they were...!

“No. No, no, no. Not... Not yet. I have to... I have to see her again,” he whispered, his final words reaching the silhouetted figure’s ears.

“My... My Treasure...!” he wheezed, coughing up red as he reached forward, writing the words “help me” on to the wall.

He had enough strength to write down a certain woman’s name in his blood, too.

The figure snickered as he stooped down further, eyeing the name written in red on the wall.

(Y/n) (L/n).

“Your Treasure...? I think not. She is my Treasure. My sweetheart. My darling. No one else can have her but me!” he said, hissing shadows through a smiling mouth as the dying young man breathed one last whisper before he became still.

“(Y/n)... I love you.”

The figure voiced one last maniacal snicker as he straightened his posture, his eyes staring at the glowing screen of the deceased high school student’s cellphone, ignoring the warm smears of crimson that sullied his fingers.

The stranger eyeballed the messages typed on the screen, a dark smirk curling his lips as a glimmer of insanity shone in his gaze.

“Only six months and two days until the survival game begins.”

[spiralstitched]

Flagstaff, Arizona.

Claudia crouches on the front porch.

The wood is wet, dampened after a bout of devil rain, roiling waves of thunder and lightning that crackled across town, leaving wildlife’s fur on end and fingers sparking at the slightest brush of metal. She stares intently, unblinkingly. She reaches out hesitantly, slowly- towards the empty plate.

The porcelain is mostly clean, though it looks as if someone’s been lapping off of it: a long smudge on the brim and a couple of crumbs on the steps. Some are squashed, others conspicuously missing. She figures they must have been carried away by the ants, or perhaps the birds. A sprig of rosemary, (that’s for remembrance,) lies spat out on the deck, a little frayed, a little worse for wear. The air smells like ozone: burning the inside of her nose, and she sneezes, hard. Claudia takes in the detailing of the plate, eyes a hairline scrape into the top enamel. Whatever ate from the plate had sharp teeth.

Usually, it’s a morning task to empty out the little dish of milk, (which has never gone curdled in the years since she’s made it a habit to offer, which is probably a sign of regard from the piskies,) into the little composting bin for the tender roses who need cracked eggshells and blood meal mixed into their roots. They’re her mother’s pet projects, her darling babies. Claudia figures she’s mostly alright with that- as long as she isn’t the one being made out to be her mum’s dear little lassie. She’s also usually responsible for crumbling up the stale bread to feed the little birds that hop along the edges of their property: shaggy blackbirds that look more like small dogs than large birds. Sometimes they squawk at her. One of them is named Spot: he has a brilliant tuft of white on his foot. Spot loves to hop up onto her shoes, and has let her hold him once or twice on her arm: it’s a good thing to see a familiar face in a new city. Usually the birds keep their distance, and Claudia will have her own breakfast while watching from the respectful perch of the porch. She’ll eat a toasted sandwich, usually, and bemuse herself with comparisons drawn between their meals. The birds’ bread is cakey, and they peck industriously at the coarse grains: she hasn’t quite gotten used to baking in the desert. The humidity is off, especially when stormfronts sweep through. Whipping meringues seems like a dream of yesterday, she can never get the stiff white peaks to form properly. Even after they’ve had their fill, spreading wingspans to wheel around in the desert like ominous little blots, the birds are messy eaters. They don’t tend to finish off the whole round of bread, which is only about the size of her palm. At least one or two hunks are usually left, stamped on with the impression of small talons, or bashed in half where a little inquisitive head landed. So it wasn’t the birds: their tongues wouldn’t match the large slobbery streak on its surface anyways. And as far as she can tell, Flagstaff, Arizona doesn’t seem to have a bustling stray cat and dog population, or at least none bold enough to try to hang out near the Victorian mansion. It’s an odd character in the bright, busy landscape: not nearly as odd as it would’ve been in New York City, though.

Today something else - she scours the mud, no tiny hardened raccoon paw prints, little dexterous fingers flexed into the baked earth - has taken her offerings: a bowl of honeyed milk, and a little loaf of home baked bread, meant to appease whatever it was that lurked on the edges of the forest. Her stomach churns, and she sits, propping her face up with both hands balled into fists in too big overalls.

What to do?

She’ll have to break out the pickling salt cans again, slit open the hula hoops, and resin seal them. She’ll have to crystallize ropes in salt, growing chunky crystals on the bed of fibres, and then seal them in a flexible glue. Bless the corners of the house, shoo out anything that might be lingering in the eaves. Leave water running. Close any circles old inhabitants, (who were related to her through blood, which means more than anyone’s fair share of shenanigans, probably) might have left behind. Ask things to leave, politely, but firmly. Crawl under the house’s whistling gap to wash away any sigils of ill intent with salt impregnated water and a cloth to be burnt afterwards. Essential oils (canine friendly, of course) need to be loaded up into the diffuser. There’s mirrors to glaze over with a crust of seasalt, then tuck away under tightly fitted wax cloth, worn thin symbols stitched in years ago, reinforced with loops of red thread. Line entryways with warding flowers, salted lines, tallow fat and ashes rubbed against the perimeter. Tuck twigs of yew and rowan wherever they are fit, sleep with St John’s and amaranth nearby. Put her bracelets of black tourmaline on again. Leave rice around, then clean it up and dispose of it. Ask Father Johnathan for some holy water- just to have on standby.

Claudia makes a mental checklist of herbs to buy, things to pick from her discreet little patch of claimed land in the woods, woods to burn. She has enough chalk, at least: and protective metals at standby, the thin silver chain holding her adderstone suddenly cool against her neck.

It doesn’t make sense. She knows how to dance around the silvery lines that Theodore swears are just glimmers of water on supersaturated land, how to weave around them without stepping onto them, how to respectfully pass by little mushroom circles or bowered trees, diamonded roots crisscrossing the ground like cobblestone. She knows the rules: don’t give them your real name, don’t tell them which eye you can see them out of or they’ll poke it right out, and never take anything offered, nor thank them for it in such a way as to endebt yourself. 

She’s even practiced that last part with Theodore, whose face crinkles with amusement at typical ‘baby sister antics,’ though he’s more than happy to indulge in her “juvenile lawyerin’” as he puts it. Claudia has always been ineffably polite to the good gentlemen, but even more so in a desert climate: the ground isn’t nearly porous enough to be bogged down with water, no matter what her brother insists with a touch of put upon practicality. Still, despite these precautions, it seems as if they’ve decided to pay her a visit after all: to collect their due sums, perhaps- or to make themselves known.

Maybe this little tourist town will be more interesting than it initially seemed after all.

[martina-watts-bcu]

Embroidery Hoop Weaving

I have used different types of wool and materials to weave. I started off with a thinner wool that has shiny wool intertwined, then a slightly thicker white wool, on the outside I have used two different materials on either side. I wanted to experiment with weaving in sections, instead of it being the same all the way round. The pink/purple yarn has a very thin string connecting these larger frays of material which is what makes it so textured. On the other side I have used a thick ribbon to weave through. I like the outcome of this as the different textures are very different, yet still work together. I also like the process as its very versatile with what you can weave depending on the desired effect. Going forwards, I could use this in my project to weave materials that represent precious things and even stitch into it with things such as beads, sequins, photographs, wool, thread.

Tammy Kanat is a textile artist that creates tapestries woven around an oval shape copper frame. Many of her works represent natural forms such as, cut agate, living coral and aerial landscape scenes. I think it is so interesting how her work can vary so much by using different materials, different colours and different placements they can represent so many different scenes and emotions. In an interview she stated that she does not consciously choose the colours and they come to her depending on what she’s feeling which I think is a very natural way to work and shows that all her artworks can be interpreted in different ways and provoke different emotions.

Tammy Kanat, Mystic Pinks, 2020, mixed fibres, 110cm x 125cm

Tammy Kanat, Earth Dance, 2020, mixed fibres, 140cm x 140cm

[valldoesdnd]

-- Weird War D&D: Chapter 1 --

So I’ve decided to start compiling my party’s adventures into a collection of book chapters, mainly for the ease of me recalling information and their history, but also because so many of you seemed to like my hastily written “Cthulhu vs Airship” scenario. So, just like before, this will likely be a long post, as I’ll be writing a chapter or so at a time when the urge hits me to do so. So for those that stick with it, I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 1: Deliveries.

+++ On board The Lightskipper, Western Elera +++

A thunderous boom roused Cie from her hammock below deck. Clambering out awkwardly, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and glanced out the porthole window. Waves lapped at the hull, spraying fine sea mist that blurred the view of her surroundings. Looking away from the window, she stretched; instinctively checking above her bunk for the bolt rifle while feeling around underneath her for boots and a clean change of clothes.

Cie Faith hadn’t been with this group long, nor had she really spent much time out in the world herself. Looking around at the cold, metal interior of her room, she began to wonder why she bothered in the first place. They’d taken this job as easy money. Most of the time, working for the Eleran government was, especially with the cold war between it and the southern continent of Arella. And whilst she knew that Eleran military vessels weren’t the most accommodating of ships, she’d at least expected a light in the small, six foot square she’d been assigned to. She wiped the condensation from the window and let the natural light fill the room, coating the rusted tiles on the floor and bathing the empty, grey walls with some semblance of warmth.

Combing out the morning lugs in her white hair and letting it fall naturally to sit just above her shoulders, she zipped up the grey flight jacket and jammed her feet unceremoniously into a pair of battered leather boots. A low, confused voice rumbled from the room opposite, the language clear and concise, even through the closed metal door:

“Cie! Are you awake? What was that sound? Should I, er, be getting up?”

Cie sighed, shouldering the bolt rifle and hooking a pouch full of mystical ingredients to her belt.

“Probably just a training exercise Carbo! Nothing to worry about. We’ve been on this floating bucket for at least three days already. I would’ve thought you’d be used to them by now to be honest.”

Her words were met with a muttered, resonate grumbling before another loud boom rocked the cabin a little more than usual, drowning out his retort. Glancing out at the waters reflection, she spotted a glint of gunfire, followed by telltale blinding flashes of magical energy. Without skipping a beat, she checked her gear one last time, grabbed the worn, metallic flight goggles hanging on the door frame and wrenched the hatch open.

+++ The Empty Expanse. ½ Mile West from The Lightskipper. +++

“Nice shot Aurora! Keep focusing fire on the bridge!”

Thunders engines screamed as Vincent slammed the throttle open, banking the old D-Grade aircraft into a sharp, declining tailspin as the flak cannons from the gigantic C-Grade slave ship opened up in response to the group’s harrying attacks. Dipping low beneath the exploding shrapnel, Vincent pulled up, the cowling ripping off in a shower of sparks as Thunder skimmed the surface of the ocean and began to bank upward. For any normal pilot, the move would have been suicide, but Vincent Mcgraw was far from normal. Continuing his upward thrust, he took careful aim and squeezed the trigger for the quintuple auto-cannons mounted along the crafts dual wings. In a roar of deafening fury the barrels opened up, tearing a deep gash in the underbelly of the vast airship above. The metal groaned, holding for a brief moment before bleeding ammunition, fuel and stolen cargo into the churning waves thousands of feet below. Seeing her opportunity, Songbird streaked towards the cut; the normally quiet, shy pixie at its controls shouting in excitement as she unleashed a torrent of magical missiles directly into the open wound. Fiery eruptions filled the sky as the falling ammunition began cooking off under the intense magical fire, sending a ripple of explosions bursting across the airship's deck, followed shortly by the delighted cries of Aurora, as she tore a neat, molten hole through the C-Grades inner levels, unfurling Songbirds mechanical wings to regain control of the bucking aircraft on her exit.

“Easy! That thing’s still got teeth!” Nomad shouted over the din, turning sharply to avoid another D-Grade craft, much like his own, that hurtled towards the large aircraft carrier below, sporting defaced markings of the Eleran Military. He banked around, taking his time through the advanced marksmen sights and sonar equipment hooked up on the interior of the cramped vessel to find his target. Barrelling out of sights of a turret shifting in his direction, he felt the judder of the rotary cannon beneath him light up, bisecting a group of slavers on the deck and sending the others running for cover before pulling away and preparing another strafing run.   Looking below him, Vincent saw the falling D-Grade impact the ships surface, erupting into a fireball before scattering debris across its deck. They might have been slavers, but by the look of their tactics, it didn’t look like their enemies wanted them captured. Another aircraft tumbled past, it’s wings stripped and it’s cockpit filled with makeshift explosives as Vincent fought to keep Thunder away from the turret mounted flak cannons still operational on the burning, metal dirigible. He reached over with a single gloved hand and flipped a switch on his console, feeling the mechanical click of the triggers realigning to their new weapon systems. Banking down toward the plummeting home-made missile, he pulled the trigger, showering the back end of it in a flurry of explosive shrapnel rounds from the twin miniature flak cannons he’d had installed. The missile detonated in a fiery conflagration before depositing its debris harmlessly into the ocean below. With a grin, Vincent released the throttle, giving his old friend a brief respite before jamming it open and sending her screeching back into the fray.

+++ On board The Lightskipper, Western Elera +++

“What in hell is going on out here?” Shouted an irritated Cie as she stormed toward the upper deck of the repurposed aircraft carrier The Lightskipper.

“I thought we weren’t expecting any heavy resistance on this job?”

She began to push open the hatch to the upper levels as the clanging of metal on metal preceded Carbos arrival. Clad in his typical reddish robes and steel plates, the construct was a stark contrast to the very human Cie, clad in her leather armour and duster jacket. He held at his side a heavy, menacing looking greataxe, and his expression was one of concern and confusion, difficult to read as it was. His form was lithe and thin, constructed from metallic fibres that weaved into each other like muscle, and his face was a blank slate, devoid of any features, eyes or mouth. As he spoke, his voice, though resonating and deep, was soft and calm, like that of an older gentlemen, though the sounds themselves appeared to resonate from the metal itself, rather than a single source.

“I’m not entirely sure. I suppose I expected something, considering they wanted us to escort them, but I didn’t expect much more than a few rogue Freerider fighters, or something similar.” He braced himself as the ship lurched again. “This certainly feels a little heavier hitting, however.”

Cie looked back to Carbo and continued to force the heavy hatch open. She grown to like the strange mechanical man over the past six months they’d worked together, finding his quick reflexes and underestimated strength very useful on many occasions, though his rash and often unpredictable tendencies did lead her to give him a wide berth during combat scenarios. A single, almost skeletal hand placed itself on the hatch and, with the metal squealing in protest, Carbo pushed the hatch open.

“Thank you Carbo. I’m surprised this carrier is still sea-worthy”. Cie smiled before continuing up the steps to the hanger.

“I hope Vorfen is airborne.” She said, her heels clanging on the metal deck as she strode across to check on Echo. The small, E-Grade one man craft sat tethered in the corner of the hanger; it’s mechanical bat-like wings folded down by its side and the magical lodestone engine bathing the interior in an arcane glow. She staggered slightly as the ship shuddered from another impact, lighter this time. Catching herself and glancing out the open bay doors of the hanger, she saw a shower of flaming debris crash into the ocean, a good six hundred or so feet away as Thunder caught the water briefly in the wake of the explosion before accelerating rapidly up and out of sight again.  

“I’m sure he will be. It takes some time for that ship of his to get airborne, but once it’s up there, I’m sure the fight will tip in our favor.” Carbo replied, striding past Cie to check on Alloy, his own D-Grade aircraft. The fighter was a standard Eleran design, with a single Skytrol engine working its way through most of the interior of the craft, ending in a large, angular propeller that rolled lazily back and forth with the rocking of the ship. He climbed expertly atop the grey wings and began clearing some debris that had landed on the window of the cockpit.

“Though I certainly think we need to really be thinking about ourselves first.”

Expecting a response, but receiving only the sounds of gunfire in the distance and echoing clangs of debris hitting the ship, he turned, looking to the direction of Echo before quickly diving off Alloys wing, moments before the small, silent aircraft unfurled its wings and darted out of the hanger, leaving a trail of translucent, arcane vapor in it’s wake.

“Right. Well then, I..er..” He muttered, pulling himself up and looking around for any sign of life, but finding none. The Lightskipper had nothing but a skeleton crew to begin with, and, with the sounds of gunfights beginning to rage across the ships main deck, it explained why no crewmen were around to assist them. Carbo looked across Alloy sheepishly for a moment, spotting figures running across the hanger towards him. As he raised a hand in greeting, it was met with a hail of machine gun fire; the bullets clanging off Alloy’s hull and whizzing across Carbos head with malicious excitement. He stumbled over a loose toolbox and collapsed into cover, his greataxe sliding out of its sheath as he did so. Staying his hand and placing the shouts between the four men taking up flanking positions nearby, the ringing across the hanger petered out as each found themselves devoid of ammunition. The lead gunman, a man thick with muscle and clad in multi-plated leather armour stepped forward, dropping the empty firearm to the ground with a resounding clatter.

“Right-o boys! They ain’t gettin’ no more birds of the ground now! This ship is ours!” He grinned, hopping over a set of crates and walking over to the battered D-Grade, turning to his men with arms outstretched.

“And this ‘ere will make a fine addition to our arsen’l. Get ready to break her down for parts lads!”

The three men, all clad in the similar, bulky armour, began walking over towards Alloy, laughing among themselves and reloading their weapons as they went. Suddenly, a gutteral, wet retching caught their ears, as their laughter was swiftly replaced by shouts of panic.

Stepping over the twitching, bisected body of their captain, Carbo shouldered the bloodied greataxe and moved toward the group, who were hastily bringing their weapons to bear. As a shot rang out across the hanger, narrowly missing the lithe, black construct, Carbo let the blade of the greataxe clang on the metallic floor, emitting a shower of sparks as he dragged it very quickly toward them.

“Now that was just rude.”

+++ The Empty Expanse. 1000ft West from The Lightskipper. +++

Vorfen wasn’t a talkative fellow. Rarely did he find time or reason to speak more than a few words, choosing instead to let his C-Grade airship, or dear friend Aurora, do the talking for him. He felt his mechanical joints whine as he turned towards the window of his bridge, looking out at the distant aerial battle above the waters. A mountain of a construct, Vorfen stood a good eight feet tall, clad in a broad steel dome that stretched upwards into deep pauldrons, held aloft by huge mechanical greaves connected via rigid support joints. Within the domed armour sat a spherical head, visible only from the cool blue glow of the sensors shaping its rectangular eyes and supported by a myriad of internal wiring. Heavy plated gauntlets slammed down on the vast array of controls at his disposal, pulling levers and spinning the helm with a veteran experience. As the metal plating groaned and tools rattled across the floor, the vast ironclad banked sharply, pulling the enemy slave ship into its crosshairs. Brick was far from agile, and by the time Vorfen had lined up the cannon batteries, the enemy was already bleeding fuel profusely; its deck littered with explosions and defensive flak clouds from his comrades. From below, a familiar D-Grade twisted sharply in the air, narrowly missing a collision with falling debris, before levelling out and refocusing its autocannons onto the now exposed engine systems of their prey, sending out another small ripple of impacts across its surface.

Checking the range dials and altitude meters, Vorfen reached across towards another section of the industrial console, clamping a heavy hand down on a square switch as his eye displays flicked from a relaxed blue to a combat red. Allowing the enemy to drift slowly between his bridge mounted iron sights and the turret mounted crosshairs, the large construct slammed down on the firing sequence, sending a volley of shells howling across the open sky, meeting their target as a vicious cannonade that tore into its starboard hull like paper. Rolling the helm to bring Bricks portside to bear, Vorfen pulled the reloader and began rotating the huge turrets to point at the deep lacerations his craft had inflicted. His bridge rattled with small arms fire as enemy crewmen began retaliating in kind with machine gun fire, taking cover behind the rented armour. Confident the reinforced windows would withstand the barrage, he continued checking dials, ensuring that Brick matched the speed and descent of its mark. His hand hovering over the firing switch, a resonating, ethereal howl echoed across the sky, staying his hand for a brief moment as a dark silhouette raced across Bricks starboard bow. Unleashing a single, intense bolt of eldritch energy into the gutted C-Grade, the esoteric bat-like shape of Echo streaked across its deck, briefly illuminated by the eerie detonation left in its wake before extending its wings outwards and vanishing into the clouds. Seizing the opportunity, Vorfen unleashed another fusilade, tearing into it like lions to a fresh carcass. Support beams, already weakened under the intense arcane heat, shattered; showering the unfortunate and beleaguered slavers with searing metal before the deck below them gave way. As the once vast, looming shape of the C-Grade slave ship disintegrated into fragments of burning debris, it slammed into the treacherous, writhing waters below, rapidly sinking from sight as the ocean consumed it.

His eye lights flicking back to a calming blue, Vorfen turned the helm, feeling Brick’s bulk below him shift as the large, once stolen, pirate airship made its way back to The Lightskipper, its newfound purpose under the hands of the protective construct at its bridge already showing promise. Glancing out the window, Aurora dipped Songbirds wings, giving him a hearty wave before beginning her descent towards the battered aircraft carrier they had been tasked to defend. Over the crackling communication radio, Vorfen heard Cie coming back into range. “Well, at least we can say we earned our keep. Maybe now they’ll consider upgrading us to something other than a metal tin to sleep in.” A hearty chuckle left the metallic figure as he laughed to himself. “Yes Cie. I Agree.” Vorfens voice was calm and direct, opting to speak as clear as only a construct could. Over the radio, a confused voice joined the conversation, crackling and distorted with static as the communications device attempted to transmit the deep resonation of Carbos voice correctly. “Did we win?” “Yep, that ship never stood a chance. Certainly something bigger than we expected on this run though.” Vincent replied, the wind whipping at his words as he came in to land. “Ah, very good. I..er, better put these locks back on then shouldn’t I?” “Carbo, did you get stuck trying to unhook Alloy again?”

The radio retained an awkward silence for a few moments as Thunder scraped across the top deck of The Lightskipper, narrowly missing a few large sections of debris covering the airstrip. Vincent let the old craft whine down slowly, waiting a few moments before placing his gloved hands on the cooling fuselage in order to lift himself out of the cockpit. Pulling off his flight goggles and facemask, he ran a hand through his dark hair before rolling his shoulders and producing a hip flask from his side. Taking a swig, he looked around, checking the horizon for any other threats, before spotting the dark form of Echo banking sharply into the battered hanger beneath him. A tough, rugged, middle aged man, Vincent was the most experienced pilot the group had. And in the age of elves, dwarves and other magical races, few could compete with Vincent's natural human talents in the sky. He breathed in the stark, Skytrol filled air, the fumes of the recent conflict lingering on the winds. He checked Thunder’s Skytrol fuel tank, and opened up the radio. “Cie, Thunder’s running on empty. Any ideas how long this trip’s got left?” “Probably only another day Vincent. We should be able to get a resupply once we reach the mainland.” Cie replied, her voice echoing across the radio from the lower hanger. “Right, well the sooner the better really. She doesn’t run on magic like yours does.” Vincent hooked the radio to his belt and walked over to Brick, the boarding ramp thudding down onto the deck and a couple of crewmen already running to hook up the mooring lines. “You did good out there Vorfen. How are you looking on fuel and ammunition?” Vincent asked, as the hefty construct trudged down the ramp. Vorfen regarded Vincent for a moment, nodding towards him in greeting before replying. “I Have Around Five Days Of Continual Flight Time Available.” He gestured to the turrets mounted on Bricks deck. “My Ammunition Count Is Approximately Five-Hundred and Forty Seven Rounds of Flak Ammunition And Fifty Rounds Of Cannon Shells” he continued monotonously. Vincent nodded. “Should be enough to get us to the Saybrcg Ports for refuelling, at least.” The construct acknowledged his response and gestured toward the steel hatch leading to the interior of the ship, allowing the fighter pilot to descend the steps towards the mess hall first.

+++ The Lightskipper Mess Hall, 18:00 hours. +++

Cie poured herself another drink and stubbed out a cigarette on the table. It had been a few hours since the attack, and things were only now getting back to normal. Looking around, she could tell that the men were still on edge. “I can’t wait to get off this thing and back onto dry land” she sighed to Aurora. The shy, 2 feet high pixie sat on the edge of the table and looked at her quietly, her mouth half full with a collection of berries and seeds. She swallowed and dusted a few crumbs off her bright, spring coloured, corseted dress, smiling at Cie. Adjusting the tiny pair of goggles strapped atop her frizzy, plaited brown hair and fiddling with her small gemstone earrings, she reached into a tiny leather pouch at her side and pulled out a small green leaf. -+- Don’t Worry! -+- A small, meek voice whispered in Cie’s mind. -+- We’ll be back soon! -+- Aurora spread her wings, fluttering into flight as she drifted over to land on Cie’s shoulder, offering her a handful of berries. “She’s right Cie. We’ll not be long, now, I’m sure” Carbo leaned across the wooden table and placing a bet in the pool of counters between the rest of the group, before checking his cards. Vincent checked his bet, raising it by a couple more counters. “Yeah, I’m with Cie though. This bites. Even with what we’re being paid. Talking about that, who do we see about getting paid?” Vincent asked, looking toward Nomad quizzically. Nomad shrugged as he considered the question, his features covered, as always, by the modified gas mask he wore, and light, studded leather armour that adorned his athletic build. Placing a dexterous hand on the table, he flipped over his cards, revealing a full house. “About a couple of hundred each, if I remember right.” His voice was muffled slightly, but his preoccupation was clear. “I think it might be another hundred for me though eh?” He chuckled as he reached over to pull in the tokens, much to Vorfen’s distaste. Nomad didn’t remember much, having suffered a severe case of amnesia after head trauma from a previous mission, long before he met the group. His ranger senses were still naturally attuned to his surroundings, however, and it was with this particular talent that he proved his usefulness to the group, especially in wild, unexplored territories. When asked his name, Nomad realised he couldn’t remember, and simply adopted the name painted alongside his craft, as a staunch reminder of his continual journey to rediscover his past. “Well whatever it is, it’s not enough. Not for these crappy conditions” Cie grumbled, taking a plate of simplistic looking foodstuffs offered from Carbo. “And I don’t know why you insist on eating with us Carbo, you don’t have a mouth.” Carbo shrugged apologetically. “It’s just nice to have the company I suppose.” Cie smiled, nodding in agreement before going back to navigating whatever food had found its way onto the plate. -+- Do you think we’ll get to see more of Saybrcg while we are here? -+- Aurora asked mentally, her fey magic allowing her to speak in silence. Vincent dealt another set of cards from the deck and threw in a few coins. “Probably. Odds are unless the I.N.C want to bring us up for a mission again like this one, we’ll be on our own for a bit.” He thought back to the first meeting he’d had with the Imperialist National Coalition. The governmental body on Elera wasn’t the most straightforward, and was certainly more militarized that he’d have liked. Everybody on the vast planet of Eressi knew that the northern continent had the biggest guns, but it didn’t stop the I.N.C from flaunting that at every opportunity. But saying that, they did pay well. And the jobs were simple. SImpler than the jobs he used to have to run back in the Arellan military. Though he was sure to keep any mention of the United Colonial Confederation out of his mercenary application. Especially with the cold war tensions slowly escalating between the U.C.C and I.N.C.

-+- I’m sure we’ll be able to find work in Saybrcg. No doubt someone will be interested in protection from the roaming sky pirates if they go east, at the very least. -+- Aurora mimed shooting down an enemy aircraft and giggled to herself. “That’s all well and good Aurora, but it would certainly be nice to have something that pays well for once.” Cie replied, polishing off the mess on the plate, and handing it to Vincent. Putting it on top of his own, he flipped his cards, showing an ace and a king. Hearing the groan from Carbo, he smiled in satisfaction as he finished the royal flush, earning back a good portion of his loss. “Well, I’m sure something’ll come up. Might just be a bit of basic work, but if it keeps us heading to Blebuff then it’ll do.” Cie stretched, standing up and looping her bolt rifle over her shoulder. “Yeah, I suppose so. I’m gonna get some sleep, anyway. If we head into port tomorrow I’d like to be ready to head out for the airfields as soon as I know we aren’t needed anymore.” The group nodded in agreement, and continued finishing up their card game. With Aurora in tow, Cie headed out of the mess hall, taking a left and heading down the steel stairwell to their separate cabins, eager to get some rest.

[marcopiqv468-blog]

Need More Time? Read These Tips To Eliminate Furniture Cleaning

It’s January! Otherwise known as the time of the season where we refresh everything we can easily get our hands and mental energy on. We at Article HQ have plenty of resolutions, but chief amongst them is always to become masterful cleaners. Not pedestrian, clean-the-bathroom, scrub-the-sink cleaners, but the sort of diagnostic expert that is able to clean an array of fibres, materials, and fabrics. To that end, we’ve built this handy ultimate furniture cleaning help guide to assist you to show up on our journey toward expertise. Roll your sleeves and place by using an apron: we’re going deep.

THE ULTIMATE GUIDE TO CLEANING YOUR FURNITURE

You clean your sheets, but can you clean sleep? A hardwood bed like this just wants a wipe down with some soapy water.

YOU CLEAN YOUR SHEETS, BUT DO YOU CLEAN YOUR BED? A HARDWOOD BED SUCH AS THE CULLA BED JUST NEEDS A WIPE DOWN WITH A LITTLE SOAP AND WATER.

GENERAL CARE TIPS

The sunny spot — best left for a animals. Shafts of sunlight are fantastic mood lifters, in case you are able to, attempt to position your furniture so it’s not relaxing in direct light. UV rays will fade and damage leather, wood, and fabric items.

Be careful with chemicals. Household chemical cleaners and detergents work great in your bathroom and on some washing machines. Nothing is more satisfying than dissolving shower mold. However, with regards to furniture, we generally recommend against them. Chemical cleaners will surely have strange reactions with natural fibers and materials. To avoid weird spots, we go without, or leave it to the good qualities.

Flip it and reverse it. If you have furniture with removable cushions, end up in the habit of turning them frequently. Flipping a cushion doesn’t make a stain go away (we’ve tested this extensively), however it does help to evenly distribute wear. Everyone has their favorite seat. It just doesn’t may need to look doing this.

HOW TO CLEAN LEATHER FURNITURE

There are few things that can compare with the creamy, soft texture of leather. Leather furniture is a carefully considered investment purchase. At Article, we use full and semi aniline leather across our products. Quick refresher: “aniline” means dying process a hide goes through once it’s been tanned. Full aniline retains its natural markings (think bug bites, scratches, etc); semi-aniline has a thin layer of wax applied before dying to help color be absorbed more evenly. Semi-aniline leather has a more uniform appearance. Ultimate furniture cleaning guide tip # 1: know thy fabric.

Is this a hospital corner? The Cigar looks much more rugged and charming in close proximity. Read on for more information on how to take care of your leather furniture.

IS THIS A HOSPITAL CORNER? THE CIGAR SOFA LOOKS EVEN MORE RUGGED AND CHARMING UP CLOSE. READ ON TO LEARN MORE ABOUT HOW TO CARE FOR YOUR LEATHER FURNITURE.

Aniline refers to the dying process a hide undergoes once it's been tanned. We feature two various kinds of aniline in your collection: full-aniline and semi-aniline. If you wish to read more about leather and leather care, take a look at our dedicated article.

We love full aniline leather because it’s especially forgiving. General wear appears about the couch, but quickly gets in step while using beauty and blends in. Cleaning both full aniline and semi aniline leather furniture is similar, and it’s simple. Once a week grab a clean, damp cloth and employ it to wipe or buff away noticeable stains. Use a brush vacuum-attachment to pay off up debris and crumbs from tufts, seams, and corners. Doing this regularly keeps debris from caking into hard-to-reach areas.

Take me to Nirvana... the sofa, obviously. We love the distressed look of the Nirvana's semi-aniline leather.

TAKE ME TO NIRVANA… THE SOFA, OF COURSE. WE LOVE THE DISTRESSED LOOK OF THE NIRVANA’S SEMI-ANILINE LEATHER.

To keep the leather looking its best, agree to giving it a consistent wipe-down having a leather conditioner for hydration and shine. We like the leather salve and leather oil from Otterwax. Apply once you’ve received as well as set up your sofa, moreover every month to help keep it in tip-top shape.

If you spill something in your leather couch, cover the offending spill having a soft, dry cloth to soak up excess moisture. Take special care to never rub the stain! We get it: you’re nervous about your couch, and scrubbing may seem like a good way to buy your stain out. In fact, it encourages the stain to sink in further as well as set. Walk away. Once the initial spill is soaked up, gently clean the region by wiping with a damp cloth. From there, you'll be able to assess what further action is critical. You may be content to observe that the stain is finished. If it’s made a noticeable mark, consult a leather specialist or maybe your local dry cleaner.

HOW TO CLEAN FABRIC FURNITURE

This is really a two-pronged effort. Since your entire fabric pieces will benefit from regular vacuuming, you’re planning to need to require a critical look at how clean that vacuum is. Make sure your vacuum head is wiped clean, that the bristles cost nothing of grit and dirt, which your canister is empty, wiped, capable to get a lot of new dirt. We’ll permit you to see how hard you have to scrub your sucker, but keep in mind how the cleaner your cleaning tools, the cleaner your own home. Consider that ultimate furniture cleaning guide tip number 2. Bam.

The Divan sofa: so creamy, so serene, very easy to spill on.

THE DIVAN SOFA: SO CREAMY, SO SERENE, SO EASY TO SPILL ON.

Fabric upholstered furniture is what vacuum attachments are manufactured for. Literally. The fabric attachment specifically will be the small rectangular piece with soft bristles round the suction area. Give your fabric furniture a once-over, paying special focus on seams, crevices, and then for any tufts. A lint roller is handy for prying especially stubborn debris (couch, pet hair, cough) loose.

Regarding spills. Look. We’re not attempting to stress get you started, but time of in the essence here. The faster you tackle the spill, the less chance it's got of setting in to the fabric. The moment you see that dollop of dip or little red hit, grab a clean absorbent cloth or paper towel. Contain your impulse to wash. Remember — that may only push the spill deeper into the fibres. Instead, simply put the cloth on the spill. Leave the cloth available until all the liquid has become absorbed. After, air dry or work with a blow dryer on low setting to dry out. You’ll be surprised at how effective this simple measure might be.

Keep your Happy chair happy by sopping up spills as an alternative to scrubbing them in.

KEEP YOUR HAPPY CHAIR HAPPY BY SOPPING UP SPILLS INSTEAD OF SCRUBBING THEM IN.

Once the spill is dry, assess if it takes further attention. If there is really a stain, include a small squeeze of dishwashing detergent to some half cup of water and shake well. Use the resulting suds to completely clean the stain — nevertheless, usually do not rub too vigorously. Instead, blot and dry. If you’ve got a significant stain happening, or are experiencing some heavy soiling (yikes), consult a furniture cleaning specialist.

Weaves or upholstery that fall under this category include:

New Zealand wool

Wool

Viscose

Cotton

Merino felt

Blends in the above

HOW TO CLEAN VELVET FURNITURE

Like its cousin fabric, velvet furniture loves a fantastic, regular vacuuming. Vacuuming keeps velvet looking tidy so it helps the fibers remain true, which maintains the shimmery depth of the pile. As with fabric, use the fabric attachment of your respective vacuum, With short, brisk strokes, vacuum your velvet, paying close attention to the divots and seams. Getting grit out early and frequently will preserve your velvet pieces for a long time.

The Embrace chair needs TLC too. Regular vacuuming and awareness of spills can keep it huggable for years and years.

THE EMBRACE CHAIR NEEDS TLC TOO. REGULAR VACUUMING AND ATTENTION TO SPILLS WILL KEEP IT HUGGABLE FOR YEARS AND YEARS.

One issue which is unique to velvet pieces are “crush marks” from packaging, heavy stacked items, or extended movie marathons (we percieve you). You may notice them as silvery lines running via your sofa pile. Thankfully, they are only to remove.

Knock knock. Who’s there? BAM it’s ultimate furniture cleaning guide tip number THREE: the crush marks is actually just velvet pile that’s been crushed. You can take them out using a steamer to gently undo the smushing, lifting the pile and eliminating the creases. Between steams, gently brush within the other direction from the velvet pile to discharge the wrinkles.

For spills — again using the “time is in the essence” thing. As with fabric, once the thing is a spill, get thee with a clean damp cloth and mop up the spill. Avoid scrubbing, instead looking forward to the spill to absorb and dry fully before assessing the second step inside your clean-up query. The same dish soap/water method is appropriate for small, manageable stains, but also for major accidents, go to your local professional.

Julie of Market Leather knows that snuggles > a little more pet fur. All you'll need is a vacuum and a fabric attachment to fight shedding pets.

JULIE OF MARKET CANVAS LEATHER KNOWS THAT SNUGGLES > A LITTLE EXTRA PET FUR — EVEN ON VELVETS LIKE THE SVEN IN CASCADIA BLUE.

Weaves or upholstery that are categorized as this category include:

Cotton velvet

Tufted velvet

HOW TO CLEAN WOOD FURNITURE

A natural material, wood furniture brings warmth and interest to your space. Treat your wooden furniture right and you’ll have it for years — even perhaps generations — to come.

Our Amoeba table series is a great demonstration of how veneered wood shines (literally).

OUR AMOEBA COFFEE TABLE IS A GREAT EXAMPLE OF HOW VENEERED WOOD SHINES (LITERALLY).

Thankfully, taking care of wood is easy. Both solid and veneered wood may be wiped down using a damp cloth to eliminate any dust, crumbs, or smudges. Wood is hardy, but can be discolored by chemical cleaners. It’s best to follow mild soap and water. Whereas wooden can eventually be sanded and re-stained for a that brand-new appearance, wood veneer have to be looked after consistently if you wish to to last forever. For all wood: absorb stains immediately, make use of a coaster for both sweaty glasses and warm dishes, and wipe often. If you’re giving your wooden furniture a clean, be sure you dry after the wipe. Dampness can leave rings and marks on natural materials. Not the finish from the world, but pretty preventable.

We love how Emily Henderson punctuates this feature wall with her Seno cabinet in walnut.

WE LOVE HOW EMILY HENDERSON PUNCTUATES THIS FEATURE WALL WITH HER SENO CABINET IN WALNUT.

CLEANING SOLID WOODS

Beautiful, and hardy, solid woods are natural material and may answer extreme changes in temperature, humidity, and exposure to sun. For general cleaning, work with a soft, non-abrasive cloth that’s slightly damp to wipe away any dust or dirt. If you have to address a sticky spot, get two cloths. Dip one in a bubbly bath of dish soap and warm water and wring excess water out, then wipe lots of. Then wipe the entire area again using the other dry cloth.

CLEANING TEAK

Teak can be a tropical hardwood with a tight grain and beautiful glossy patina. As it is really a natural material, it really is impacted by alterations in temperature and humidity. Exposure can result in small fissures generally known as “checking.” To avoid this, keep the teak furniture far from windows and heaters, and treat with teak oil to regenerate moisture. To clean your teak furniture, simply wipe it down which has a damp cloth, and a soap and water mixture. This likely is obvious (we’d like to count this as a possible ultimate furniture cleaning guide tip, but… we won’t), but please — never make use of a power washer.

Over time, all wooden furniture will begin to show indications of damage. This is often a normal part in the process of getting older and adds with a pieces’ unique charm. If you have marks that want dealing with, think about touch up or perhaps a wax filler pen. We stock in a selection of hues.

This lounge featured on Wit & Delight has subscribed to some serious dusting. Thankfully, all they require is soap and water.

THE ARCHIVE SHELF FEATURED ON WIT & DELIGHT DEMANDS REGULAR DUSTING. THANKFULLY, ALL IT NEEDS IS SOAP AND WATER.

VENEERED WOOD

Veneered wood is a great alternative if you’re looking to get a lighter, more adaptable piece. Because veneer is just thin strips of wood glued together, it can be less susceptible to environmental strains like humidity and changing temperatures. As veneered pieces can’t be sanded, minding your coasters will become important to ensuring a pieces’ longevity. As with wooden, avoid wetness and hot dishes, and deal with stains and marks quickly with warm soapy water.

HOW TO CLEAN MARBLE

Marble is cool, visually pleasing and extremely, really porous. Not only does it come up with a regal statement within your home, your marble table wants to suck up spills. Which sounds much better than it really is. When it comes in your marble tables, spills must be avoided over treated. Of course, if disaster does strike, grab yourself a non-abrasive, soft cloth and prevent any household chemical cleaners or products. Marble is specially responsive to acid (lemon, vinegar, etc), and also this relates to cleaners also.

Ultimate furniture cleaning guide: the Mara is often a beautiful spot for the coffee — but please please please, make use of a coaster!

THE MARA TABLE IS A BEAUTIFUL SPOT FOR A COFFEE — BUT PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE, USE A COASTER!

HOW TO CLEAN METAL

Most in our metal products are made from steel, and so are simple to scrub with warm soapy water. For pedestrian, everyday cleaning, all you need is a rag as well as a bucket. To treat spills, absorb the offender using a clean absorbent cloth, and go to wipe with a soapy cloth. Make sure to dry the area as soon as the spill has been cleaned to stop discoloration.

HOW TO CLEAN WICKER/RATTAN

Rattan is a natural material typically made out of dried palm. Flexible and sturdy, wicker is usually used by patio furniture. While it is often a hardy material, too much water can result in swelling. Store your rattan out with the rain and indoors in the winter time to make sure a long life.

Ultimate Furniture Cleaning Guide: Lean back, relax, and take inside view out of your Teaka chair. Just never ever power wash it, okay?

LEAN BACK, RELAX, AND TAKE IN THE VIEW FROM YOUR TEAKA LOUNGE CHAIR. JUST NEVER EVER POWER WASH IT, OKAY?

To clean your wicker or rattan furniture, make use of a soft cloth and common water. Remove stubborn dust using a dry bristle-brush, or using the upholstery attachment of one's vacuum. For stubborn dirt or stains wipe with a damp cloth while avoiding saturation. Rinse and blot any excess moisture using a soft cloth and enable it to air dry. No need to completely clean your rattan — doing this could actually strip it and earn it vulnerable to water damage.

HOW TO CLEAN GLASS

Chemical cleaners allowed! Grab that Windex. Use a soft cloth or possibly a paper towel. Spray, wipe, repeat until clean.

HOW TO CLEAN SHEEPSKIN

These popular cozies are busy keeping the hygge vibe going all winter long. Sheepskins may also be great at regulating temperature, meaning they make for a great summertime cozy too. Give them some cleaning TLC to hold them looking their finest. Regular brushing will help to restore the soft fluffy appearance. You can sop up minor stains having a damp cloth. When it’s time to get a deep clean though, nothing though the dry cleaner will perform.

Ultimate Furniture Cleaning Guide: Our Lanna sheepskins will be the perfect spot to require a long winter's nap. Dry clean only, please!

OUR LANNA SHEEPSKINS ARE THE PERFECT PLACE TO TAKE A LONG WINTER’S NAP. DRY CLEAN ONLY, PLEASE!

GO PRO… FESSIONAL CLEANERS

DIY is cool and all, but a majority of materials demand extra love and attention that just a certified dry cleaner will offer. Ultimate furniture cleaning tip number 4: professionals are good and well worth the money.

Alpaca

Goatskin

Cowhide

NO CLEANING DEGREE REQUIRED

Sometimes the simplest things include the most effective. Most cleaning aficionados will agree that to get a lot of items, a gentle cleaning solution, a washcloth, and strong arm are all you may need.

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How To Make Your Product Stand Out With Furniture Cleaning

It’s January! Otherwise called time of the season where we refresh everything we could get our hands and mental energy on. We at Article HQ have plenty of resolutions, but chief amongst them would be to become masterful cleaners. Not pedestrian, clean-the-bathroom, scrub-the-sink cleaners, but the sort of diagnostic expert that learns how to clean a selection of fibres, materials, and fabrics. To that end, we’ve built this handy ultimate furniture cleaning help guide enable you to appear on our journey toward expertise. Roll your sleeves and set with an apron: we’re going deep.

THE ULTIMATE GUIDE TO CLEANING YOUR FURNITURE

You clean your sheets, but can you clean sleep? A hardwood bed this way just needs a wipe down with a little soap and water.

YOU CLEAN YOUR SHEETS, BUT DO YOU CLEAN YOUR BED? A HARDWOOD BED SUCH AS THE CULLA BED JUST NEEDS A WIPE DOWN WITH A LITTLE SOAP AND WATER.

GENERAL CARE TIPS

The sunny spot — that is better left for a animals. Shafts of sunlight are excellent mood lifters, but if you'll be able to, try and position your furniture so it’s not relaxing in direct light. UV rays will fade and damage leather, wood, and fabric items.

Be careful with chemicals. Household chemical cleaners and detergents work great within your bathroom and so on some appliances for the kitchen. Nothing is increased amounts of satisfaction than dissolving shower mold. However, in terms of furniture, we generally recommend against them. Chemical cleaners might have strange reactions with natural fibers and materials. To avoid weird spots, we go without, or hand it over to the advantages.

Flip it and reverse it. If you have furniture with removable cushions, enter into the habit of turning them frequently. Flipping a cushion doesn’t create a stain vanish entirely (we’ve tested this extensively), but it does help to evenly distribute wear. Everyone has their most favorite seat. It just doesn’t could consider looking that way.

HOW TO CLEAN LEATHER FURNITURE

There are few things that can match the creamy, soft texture of leather. Leather furniture is often a carefully considered investment purchase. At Article, we use full and semi aniline leather across our products. Quick refresher: “aniline” refers to the dying process a hide experiences once it’s been tanned. Full aniline retains its natural markings (think bug bites, scratches, etc); semi-aniline features a thin layer of wax applied before dying to help you color be absorbed more evenly. Semi-aniline leather includes a more uniform appearance. Ultimate furniture cleaning guide tip number one: know thy fabric.

Is mtss is a hospital corner? The Cigar looks a lot more rugged and charming in close proximity. Read on for more information on how to take care of your leather furniture.

IS THIS A HOSPITAL CORNER? THE CIGAR SOFA LOOKS EVEN MORE RUGGED AND CHARMING UP CLOSE. READ ON TO LEARN MORE ABOUT HOW TO CARE FOR YOUR LEATHER FURNITURE.

Aniline refers back to the dying process a hide experiences once it has been tanned. We feature two a variety of aniline inside our collection: full-aniline and semi-aniline. If you want to continue reading about leather and leather care, take a look at our dedicated blog post.

We love full aniline leather because it’s especially forgiving. General wear occurs for the couch, but quickly gets in step with the beauty and blends directly in. Cleaning both full aniline and semi aniline leather furniture is the identical, and it’s simple. Once a week grab a clean, damp cloth and employ it to wipe or buff away noticeable stains. Use a brush vacuum-attachment to clear up debris and crumbs from tufts, seams, and corners. Doing this regularly keeps debris from caking into hard-to-reach areas.

Take me to Nirvana... the sofa, obviously. We love the distressed look of the Nirvana's semi-aniline leather.

TAKE ME TO NIRVANA… THE SOFA, OF COURSE. WE LOVE THE DISTRESSED LOOK OF THE NIRVANA’S SEMI-ANILINE LEATHER.

To maintain leather looking its best, commit to passing on a consistent wipe-down which has a leather conditioner for hydration and shine. We like the leather salve and leather oil from Otterwax. Apply once you’ve received and set up your sofa, nevertheless monthly to keep it in tip-top shape.

If you spill something on the leather couch, cover the offending spill using a soft, dry cloth to take up excess moisture. Take special care to not rub the stain! We get it: you’re nervous about your couch, and scrubbing seems like a sensible way to get the stain out. In fact, it just encourages the stain to sink in further as well as set. Walk away. Once the initial spill is consumed, gently clean the location by wiping which has a damp cloth. From there, it is possible to assess what further action is essential. You may be very happy to note that the stain is finished. If it’s created a noticeable mark, consult a leather specialist or perhaps your local dry cleaner.

HOW TO CLEAN FABRIC FURNITURE

This is a two-pronged effort. Since your fabric pieces will benefit from regular vacuuming, you’re planning to desire to take a hard look at how clean that vacuum is. Make sure your vacuum head is wiped clean, that this bristles have the freedom of grit and dust, knowning that your canister is empty, wiped, and able to be given a bunch of new dirt. We’ll let you determine how hard you need to scrub your sucker, but keep in mind that the cleaner your cleaning tools, the cleaner your own home. Consider that ultimate furniture cleaning guide tip number two. Bam.

The Divan sofa: so creamy, so serene, very easy to spill on.

THE DIVAN SOFA: SO CREAMY, SO SERENE, SO EASY TO SPILL ON.

Fabric upholstered furniture is what vacuum attachments are made for. Literally. The fabric attachment specifically could be the small rectangular piece with soft bristles round the suction area. Give your fabric furniture a once-over, paying special care about seams, crevices, and then for any tufts. A lint roller is handy for prying especially stubborn debris (couch, pet hair, cough) loose.

Regarding spills. Look. We’re not trying to stress you out of trouble, but time of with the essence here. The faster you deal with the spill, the less chance it's got of setting in to the fabric. The moment you see that dollop of dip or little dark wine hit, grab a clean absorbent cloth or paper towel. Contain your impulse to wash. Remember — that will only push the spill deeper in to the fibres. Instead, simply place the cloth on the spill. Leave the cloth set up until all of the liquid continues to be absorbed. After, air dry or use a blow dryer on low setting to dry out. You’ll be very impressed at how effective this easy measure could be.

Keep your Happy chair happy by sopping up spills instead of scrubbing them in.

KEEP YOUR HAPPY CHAIR HAPPY BY SOPPING UP SPILLS INSTEAD OF SCRUBBING THEM IN.

Once the spill is dry, assess whether it takes further attention. If there can be a stain, give a small squeeze of dishwashing detergent to your half cup of water and shake well. Use the resulting suds to scrub the stain — nevertheless, do not rub too vigorously. Instead, blot and dry. If you’ve got an important stain occurring, or are experiencing some heavy soiling (yikes), consult a furniture cleaning specialist.

Weaves or upholstery that are categorized as this category include:

New Zealand wool

Wool

Viscose

Cotton

Merino felt

Blends in the above

HOW TO CLEAN VELVET FURNITURE

Like its cousin fabric, velvet furniture loves a fantastic, regular vacuuming. Vacuuming keeps velvet looking tidy so it helps the fibers stand up, which maintains the shimmery depth of its pile. As with fabric, utilize the fabric attachment of the vacuum, With short, brisk strokes, vacuum your velvet, paying close care about the divots and seams. Getting grit out early and sometimes will preserve your velvet pieces for many years.

The Embrace chair needs TLC too. Regular vacuuming and care about spills can keep it huggable for many years.

THE EMBRACE CHAIR NEEDS TLC TOO. REGULAR VACUUMING AND ATTENTION TO SPILLS WILL KEEP IT HUGGABLE FOR YEARS AND YEARS.

One issue which is unique to velvet pieces are “crush marks” from packaging, heavy stacked items, or long movie marathons (we view you). You may notice them as silvery lines running through your sofa pile. Thankfully, these are in order to remove.

Knock knock. Who’s there? BAM it’s ultimate furniture cleaning guide tip number THREE: the crush marks is actually just velvet pile that’s been crushed. You can remove them with a steamer to gently undo the smushing, lifting the pile and eliminating the creases. Between steams, gently brush inside opposite direction of the velvet pile to release the wrinkles.

For spills — again while using “time is with the essence” thing. As with fabric, when the truth is a spill, get thee to some clean damp cloth and mop up the spill. Avoid scrubbing, instead expecting the spill to absorb and dry fully before assessing the second step inside your clean-up query. The same dish soap/water technique is recommended for small, manageable stains, nevertheless for major accidents, go for your local professional.

Julie of Market Leather sees that snuggles > a little bit more pet fur. All you will need is really a vacuum plus a fabric attachment to battle shedding pets.

JULIE OF MARKET CANVAS LEATHER KNOWS THAT SNUGGLES > A LITTLE EXTRA PET FUR — EVEN ON VELVETS LIKE THE SVEN IN CASCADIA BLUE.

Weaves or upholstery that belong to this category include:

Cotton velvet

Tufted velvet

HOW TO CLEAN WOOD FURNITURE

A natural material, wood furniture brings warmth and interest to a space. Treat your wooden furniture right and you’ll own it for years — even perhaps generations — into the future.

Our Amoeba table series is a great demonstration of how veneered wood shines (literally).

OUR AMOEBA COFFEE TABLE IS A GREAT EXAMPLE OF HOW VENEERED WOOD SHINES (LITERALLY).

Thankfully, looking after wood is not hard. Both solid and veneered wood may be wiped down with a damp cloth to get rid of any dust, crumbs, or smudges. Wood is hardy, but might be discolored by chemical cleaners. It’s far better to stay with mild soap and water. Whereas solid wood can eventually be sanded and re-stained for any that brand-new appearance, wood veneer should be looked after consistently if you desire to to last forever. For all wood: take up stains immediately, work with a coaster for both sweaty glasses and warm dishes, and wipe often. If you’re giving your wooden furniture a clean, make sure to dry after the wipe. Dampness can leave rings and marks on natural materials. Not the final from the world, but pretty preventable.

We love how Emily Henderson punctuates this feature wall along with her Seno cabinet in walnut.

WE LOVE HOW EMILY HENDERSON PUNCTUATES THIS FEATURE WALL WITH HER SENO CABINET IN WALNUT.

CLEANING SOLID WOODS

Beautiful, and hardy, solid woods are natural material and definately will respond to extreme modifications in temperature, humidity, and exposure to sun. For general cleaning, use a soft, non-abrasive cloth that’s slightly damp to wipe away any dust or dirt. If you have to address a sticky spot, get two cloths. Dip one inch a bubbly bath of dish soap and warm water and wring excess water out, then wipe the location. Then wipe the complete area again with all the other dry cloth.

CLEANING TEAK

Teak is a tropical hardwood with a tight grain and beautiful glossy patina. As it is often a natural material, it really is impacted by adjustments to temperature and humidity. Exposure can lead to small fissures generally known as “checking.” To avoid this, keep your teak furniture from windows and heaters, and treat with teak oil to bring back moisture. To clean your teak furniture, simply wipe it down with a damp cloth, along with a water and soap mixture. This likely goes without saying (we’d prefer to count this being an ultimate furniture cleaning guide tip, but… we won’t), but please — never utilize a power washer.

Over time, all wooden furniture will quickly show signs of wear. This is really a component in the maturing and adds to a pieces’ unique charm. If you have marks that need taking care of, look at a touch up or perhaps a wax filler pen. We stock at a selection of hues.

This family area featured on Wit & Delight has subscribed to some serious dusting. Thankfully, all they need is water and soap.

THE ARCHIVE SHELF FEATURED ON WIT & DELIGHT DEMANDS REGULAR DUSTING. THANKFULLY, ALL IT NEEDS IS SOAP AND WATER.

VENEERED WOOD

Veneered wood is often a great alternative if you’re looking for the lighter, more adaptable piece. Because veneer is simply thin strips of wood glued together, it is less vunerable to environmental strains like humidity and changing temperatures. As veneered pieces can’t be sanded, minding your coasters will become important to ensuring a pieces’ longevity. As with wood, avoid wetness and hot dishes, and deal with stains and marks quickly with warm soap and water.

HOW TO CLEAN MARBLE

Marble is cool, visually pleasing and extremely, really porous. Not only does it come up with a regal statement inside your living area, your marble table likes to suck up spills. Which sounds superior to it really is. When it comes in your marble tables, spills have to be avoided more than treated. Of course, if disaster does strike, have yourself a non-abrasive, soft cloth and steer clear of any household chemical cleaners or products. Marble is particularly responsive to acid (lemon, vinegar, etc), and this refers to cleaners also.

Ultimate furniture cleaning guide: the Mara is a beautiful spot for the coffee — but please please please, make use of a coaster!

THE MARA TABLE IS A BEAUTIFUL SPOT FOR A COFFEE — BUT PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE, USE A COASTER!

HOW TO CLEAN METAL

Most individuals metal products are manufactured from steel, and they are simple to wash with warm water and soap. For pedestrian, everyday cleaning, all you will need is really a rag plus a bucket. To treat spills, take up the offender having a clean absorbent cloth, and go to wipe with a soapy cloth. Make sure to dry the location once the spill continues to be cleaned to prevent discoloration.

HOW TO CLEAN WICKER/RATTAN

Rattan can be a natural material typically made from dried palm. Flexible and sturdy, wicker is generally employed for outdoor furniture. While it is often a hardy material, too much water can lead to swelling. Store your rattan out of the rain and indoors throughout the winter months to assure an extended life.

Ultimate Furniture Cleaning Guide: Lean back, relax, and take inside view from your Teaka chair. Just never ever power wash it, okay?

LEAN BACK, RELAX, AND TAKE IN THE VIEW FROM YOUR TEAKA LOUNGE CHAIR. JUST NEVER EVER POWER WASH IT, OKAY?

To clean your wicker or rattan furniture, use a soft cloth and the usual water. Remove stubborn dust having a dry bristle-brush, or while using the upholstery attachment of one's carpet cleaner. For stubborn dirt or stains wipe which has a damp cloth while avoiding saturation. Rinse and blot any excess moisture with a soft cloth and enable it to air dry. No need to completely clean your rattan — this could actually strip it and make it vulnerable to water damage.

HOW TO CLEAN GLASS

Chemical cleaners allowed! Grab that Windex. Use a soft cloth or possibly a paper towel. Spray, wipe, repeat until clean.

HOW TO CLEAN SHEEPSKIN

These popular cozies are busy keeping the hygge vibe going all winter long. Sheepskins can also be great at regulating temperature, meaning they've created for an excellent summertime cozy too. Give them some cleaning TLC to keep them looking their best. Regular brushing will help to restore the soft fluffy appearance. You can sop up minor stains having a damp cloth. When it’s time to get a deep clean though, nothing though the dry cleaner is going to do.

Ultimate Furniture Cleaning Guide: Our Lanna sheepskins would be the perfect place to have a long winter's nap. Dry clean only, please!

OUR LANNA SHEEPSKINS ARE THE PERFECT PLACE TO TAKE A LONG WINTER’S NAP. DRY CLEAN ONLY, PLEASE!

GO PRO… FESSIONAL CLEANERS

DIY is cool and, but a majority of materials demand extra love and attention that just a certified dry cleaner will offer. Ultimate furniture cleaning tip number four: professionals are perfect and definitely worth the money.

Alpaca

Goatskin

Cowhide

NO CLEANING DEGREE REQUIRED

Sometimes the easiest things include the most effective. Most cleaning aficionados will agree that to get a lot of items, a mild cleaning solution, a washcloth, and strong arm are you will need.