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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 6 months ago

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Don't Go Blindly Into the Dark

Summary:

To hide that he can't read, Jan Van Eck has been forcing his son to pretend he's blind since he was eight years old. Wylan is now attending Ketterdam University, and meeting Jesper Fahey may very well be about to change his life. But is he safe to tell Jesper the truth? And what will Jesper say if he does?

Jesper is struggling to weigh up his life in the Barrel and his life at the University of Ketterdam, and there's a good chance that his growing debt is about to make the decision for him. He hasn't attended class consecutively for months, but maybe that will change when his newest project includes partnering up with Wylan Van Eck. But can he really leave the Barrel behind him? And how long can he keep up the pretence of who he thinks Wylan wants him to be?

Tags: @justalunaticfangirl @lunarthecorvus

If anyone else would like to be tagged let me know :)

Content warnings for this chapter: ptsd

AO3 link

Chapter 23 - Inej

Everything hurt. The world returned to Inej in slow, strange flashes as her eyes opened but her vision blurred and bled. Short, shallow breaths heaved in her chest as she tried to sit up, sharper pain suddenly rocketing through her leg. She hissed, grabbing the mattress and the headboard to steady herself.

“Easy,” said a soft voice nearby, “easy, you’re okay,”

It took a moment for Inej to find her room at the Slat and come to proper attention. Nina spun into view standing opposite her, arms outstretched as though she were expecting Inej to faint and fall right off the bed. She very well may have been about to.

“Nina…”

“Lie down,” Nina murmured, as Inej let her slip her hands through hers and ease back against the pillow, “You need to rest,”

Inej wanted to protest but the pain was terrible and there were dark spots crowding in her vision, their edges fizzling with sparks as they clamoured for her attention. Her breaths came shakily and she closed her eyes, lying on her back, tightening her fingers around Nina’s hand. Between them they managed to move Inej’s pillow and prop her up against the headboard, but Inej wasn’t entirely convinced she would have been able to move herself alone. Her leg was on fire and her skin was shaking as though it intended to stand up without her muscles following it, to leave her cold and throbbing like an oyster pulled out of its shell.

“You should drink some water,” said Nina, softly, pressing a flask into Inej’s hands.

“How long was I out?” she whispered, raising the water slowly to her lips.

“Not as long as I’d like you to have been,” admitted Nina, “Only four hours or so. You need to sleep,”

Inej didn’t want to sleep. She wanted to stand up and prove to herself that she was fine, that her pain would dissipate and she would be able to walk, run, climb as soon as possible. She settled for sipping her water, watching Nina over the rim of the flask. Inej’s room was tight but Nina had brought one of the many spindly, mismatched dining chairs from downstairs and just about managed to fit it in. It was a snug fit, the chair was pressed against both the wall and Inej’s mattress so it wasn’t possible to sit on it without bringing your legs to the side, like Nina was now. For a while they sat there in the relative quiet, the voices below a distant ocean chorus, as Inej tried to sort through her clouded thoughts, a sudden panic seizing her as her hands began to trace her belt, her sleeves, her sides.

“Do you want something to eat?” asked Nina lightly, in the middle of turning back to face Inej and apparently not yet having noticed her frenzy.

“Where are my knives? Nina - Nina, where -?”

“It’s okay,” Nina looked briefly panicked, “It’s okay, they’re here,” she opened the top drawer of Inej’s little nightstand, the only furniture she had but her bed and clothes chest, so she could see the knives neatly laid out along the base of the wood, “I’m sorry, I needed somewhere to put them and the drawer was empty. I could put them on top so you can see them-”

Inej shook her head.

“It’s alright,” she breathed, “I’m sorry, I… I don’t know,”

But she knew where they were now. As much as she might want to ignore that nervous, irrational part of her mind instead of having to find the right ways to calm it, at least it had relaxed some, now, and she could temporarily set it to one side. She breathed.

“What happened?” she ventured, after a minute had passed, “After…”

“Kaz went to the Crow Club, I assume he’s still there; I haven't seen him. Anika and Roeder missed Wylan at the docks, Jesper ran after the boat - I don’t know what happened, but he came by a few hours ago to say Wylan was alright,”

“He’s okay?”

Nina shrugged.

“He’s alive,”

That was probably about the best they could have hoped for. Inej hadn’t been able to make much sense of half the things she’d found at the Van Eck house, but fathers didn’t just decide to send hired guns after their children on a casual whim. The paper trail that led Inej to Miggson and Prior had not been the only plan, though as far she could tell it was the only one that ever got further than a half-baked shape of an idea, and Van Eck didn’t seem to be trying particularly hard to hide them anywhere but beneath other papers in one of the many drawers in his unnecessarily large desk. Inej sipped her water again, nodding vaguely in response to Nina as she said something about bringing her some food. She let Nina feel her forehead when she asked, and the Heartrender returned with a cold compress before she went to get them both something to eat.

Once Nina had returned and they’d both had some lunch - cheese sandwiches followed by a few little sweet rolls Nina had bought from the bakery down the street recently enough that they weren’t too dry yet - Inej reached her arms either side of her and sat up off the headboard to stretch her spine.

“I need to move,” she said eventually, when Nina had taken her plate off her and set it on the little nightstand.

“You should rest,”

Inej just shook her head.

“I need to move,”

She rolled slightly, planting her hands onto the mattress so she could lean her weight into her arms and drag her leg slightly behind her. The compress round her neck - she’d almost forgotten it was there - slipped and flopped onto the mattress as she moved, and Nina stood to pick it up. Inej’s knee screamed at her as soon as she moved it, spots clouded into her vision once again and she tensed, feeling herself sway, clutching Nina’s outstretched hands.

“You’re okay,” Nina whispered, holding her close, “You’re okay. Come here, sit on the edge of the mattress,”

Inej shuffled forwards and Nina sat down next to her, one hand hovering between them as though Inej was going to collapse at any second. To be entirely honest she wasn’t sure she could discount the possibility.

“Just lift your leg up and down,” said Nina, hinging her own leg from knee as she spoke, “Go slow. Just try to get some movement there,”

Inej found herself gripping the edge of the mattress until the sheet began to ball up inside her fists, gritting her teeth as she moved her leg slowly up and down. It took an infuriating amount of effort just to do it once, and despite Nina forming the beginnings of a question Inej just bit her lip and tried again. She was left almost breathless, with burning annoyance heating in her cheeks.

“Don’t rush it,” Nina’s voice was gentle, “Just keep trying when you can,”

Over the slow remainder of the day Inej switched between lying down, trying to quell the voices in her head, and slowly pushing her leg to each new limit she could think of, trying to quell the screaming in her head. Nina stayed with her all day, letting Inej lean on her as she tried to put weight onto her knee, keeping the damp cloth round the back of Inej’s neck cool, easing her pain when it got to its worst and telling her stories when other things got to their worst.

“Nina…” Inej said at some point, when it suddenly occurred to her they’d been together for hours on end even before she woke up, “Don’t you have to be at work?”

“Oh, erm…” Nina bit the inside of her lip, “I’m kind of suspended. But Kaz talked Feliks out of firing me, so that’s good,”

Inej stared at her.

“What did you do?” she asked, and then about five minutes later, “You did the right thing, Nina,”

Nina smiled sadly, moving Inej’s hand up and down a little where their fingers were clasped.

“Why does doing the right thing feel so rotten?”

“Nina-”

“I’m not sure I really helped Elodie very much. We had to talk him out of not getting rid of her, too,”

“Is she alright?”

“I think so? I can’t be on premises, Feliks doesn’t want to explain my absence so he’s delayed all my appointments by excuse of being on a job with the Dregs - or probably in vaguer, nicer sounding terms to the clients, but the point is I’m not supposed to be there,”

Inej squeezed Nina’s fingers.

Jesper slipped briefly in and out a couple of times to check how she was doing, and Nina took the opportunity to stretch her legs and get them both some more food or drinks.

“How’s Wylan?”

“I’d say he’s been better,” Jesper shuffled the precarious chair a little closer so he could take Inej’s hand, and both of them cringed slightly at the ugly squeaking it made against the floorboards, “But he agreed to meet Kaz tomorrow, I guess that’s good,”

“Did you tell him Kaz wants him for demolitions?”

Jesper sucked his teeth.

“... I may have told him I work at a bar,”

“And when he meets Kaz tomorrow?”

“I’m very much operating on a figure-it-out-as-you-go-along-and-hope-for-the-best kinda plan,”

“That’s all your plans,”

“Aw, you know me so well!”

When early evening fell, Nina closed Inej’s curtains and found her pyjamas to lay them on the end of the bed. Inej stayed sitting as Nina leaned over her for a brief embrace, then bid her goodnight as she left the room. It took a while for Inej to manage changing into her ill-fitting pyjamas but that may have been a blessing because the energy it took was about the right amount to leave her ready to sleep. She crawled beneath her duvet in slow bursts, pushing herself gently down the mattress by pressing her weight against the headboard until she was all but horizontal. Her head was heavy, the pain in her leg was slowly dulling to an easy enough ache after the sharp, explosive pains that changing had fired through her, but as she leant into the pillow she was allowed only the briefest moment of closing her eyes.

“Saints,” said someone’s crisp, cool voice as a breeze wound its way into Inej’s room and she shot upright like a marionette with a tugged string, “I thought she’d never leave,”

Pain spiralled its way through Inej’s leg and the fuzzy, swimming sensation in her head returned at the sudden movement, but none of that mattered now. Because Inej could barely move. And Liesbeth Stoevelaar was standing in her bedroom.

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wafflebloggies · 11 months ago

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the long con - part 7/7

a Don't Feed The Muse/Captain Disillusion crossover story. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

The Captain stood in the middle of the Mayhew’s front hall, letting the door swing slowly to behind him. In the warm darkness, his sharp eyes sought a point up and to the left, moved away, found the deeper vacancy ahead where the foyer led to the second floor. The hallway was high and open, with a long transom of square panes above the door and a thin sidelight window like a straight slatted backbone to each side. The streetlights cast a tall golden gateway, surprisingly bright, framing his shadow and stretching across and along the glossy wood floor.

He put out a hand, found a switch. The illusion was broken, warm light picking out an ordinary, tidy, two-story space, with pictures on the walls and filling a sideboard of heavy red wood, an open room to the side mostly taken up by a big dining-table, with all of the chairs pushed neatly in. Faith, said a little wooden ornament hanging from the ceramic keyplate by the door, in painted letters. Be Joyful Always, Pray Continually, advised the big dark span of barnwood, directly under the transom, in a looping, light-hearted font.

Precious Memories, said a long picture-frame directly across the hall, busy with a collage of photos of two children- no, three, as the Captain took another closer look he saw that Anthony was there too, in several photos with Mark, from kids barely school-age to teens to two grinning adults with their arms draped around each other.

The Captain looked away from the pictures and up the wooden staircase, to the darkness where the banister gave a sharp right-angled bend around a hidden corner, disappeared into shadows. He removed his other hand slowly from his jacket pocket, cleared his throat.

“I come in peace,” he said.

The house seemed unimpressed. That it seemed to be anything was a peculiar feeling, that the Captain would have been more than happy to chalk up to his hyper-awareness, to the extremely weird day he was having, to anything other than the fact that there was a sluggish heaviness to the air and that his head had started to hurt again, dully, as soon as he’d stepped over the threshold.

He climbed the shadowy staircase. The first half was easy, with the hallway lights at his back, his shadow dark and jagged up the treads in front of him as if it was in a hurry to get there first. Past watercolours and a framed cross-stitch, to the turn. The darkness beyond, up to the landing, was heavy, like a physical curtain barring the upper floor from sight. It felt, to the Captain, like it was daring him to come any closer.

The Captain was irritable enough, by this point, to take it straight up on the offer. He snapped his fingers, and a screen shaped itself above his hand, lighting the way. It took him a couple of seconds to realise that it was playing the sewer scene from IT, and he tapped at it impatiently until it settled down into a featureless, even light. As he continued to the top of the stairs, it bathed the walls, the farmhouse-style shutter on the landing window, the surprising spindly shape of a side-table, in a uniform white-blue glow.

“Hey,” he said, lifting his voice. “You can drop the slasher movie act. I know you’re here.”

The hallway was as tidy and scrupulously clean as the rest of the house. He turned left, through a panelled door, and found himself in a mid-sized bedroom. Here, the methodical upkeep seemed to have faltered. It didn’t feel so much like the result of a messy nature, than simply a creeping lack of care. The bed was unmade and the floor was scattered with clothes. DVD cases were piled everywhere in untidy stacks, and a PC stood on a cluttered, dirty desk littered with discs and papers.

The Captain glanced at everything, seemed to pay attention to nothing in particular, missed very little. There were more photos pinned here and there between the collage of movie posters that covered the walls, several stuck up near the bed. A dark-haired woman with smiling eyes and a fretful-looking guy with a snub nose and glasses. Mark and the other, older kid. Mark and Anthony, again, in matching track shirts, beaming at the camera.

He looked at the photo, at all of the photos, at the only movie poster in a frame, on the wall next to the closet door.

“The original trilogy was better,” he said.

As if this was a password, the closet door cracked open, just a tiny bit. The Captain stepped back sharply, his screen sputtering for a second before it regained its form. He stood, facing the slatted door, a bright yellow shape in a sea of blue and white and dark slanting shadows, and he didn’t move again, not even when a low, liquid sound like a burbling laugh seeped slowly up his spine and rose, like black groundwater, into the back of his mind.

“Oh, no. I don’t do the whole ‘telepathy’ thing. Come on, it’s only polite, if you want to have a conversation, use your words.”

...my words?

The Captain blinked. A very small amount of black, almost indistinguishable from the thin streaky line that held his mask in place over the chrome, started to wind its way from his nose. He sniffed it away, sharply.

“There you go. Much better.”

you. shouldn’t. be here.

“Yeah, well, I was invited. What’s your excuse?”

The feeling of laughter again, sluggish and thick.

we thought. our host was. more reliable. but… he still has. so much. to lose. our methods always work. in the end. he only needs. a little more

motivation.

“Yeah, I’ve been hearing a lot about your methods.” The Captain folded his arms. “Enough to be pretty sure I don’t like them. I can’t say I understand what your endgame is here, but you nearly got two people killed tonight, and that’s definitely not the way to build a lasting partnership. You can’t ‘motivate’ humans to make art by making them miserable. And, I hope you don’t need me to spell it out, but you can’t be someone’s creative inspiration if they’re dead.”

He dropped his voice, his tone serious, earnest. “Listen, let me give you the low-down on this, okay? I know these people. I know how they work. I’ve been here, learning about them, living with them, for a long time. Well- not literally with them, a few thousand kilometres above them most of the time if you wanna get specific- but the point is, I know how you feel right now. You’re small, you’re scared, you think you’re all alone on this weird planet, and I know you probably think this is the only way you can get what you need, but it’s not. All these lies, all this- manipulation, trying to cut this poor kid off from the rest of his species just so you can coerce him into swallowing your screwed-up version of reality, it’s- it’s not gonna fly.”

no…?

The closet door moved again, as if stirred by a breath. There was a new note in the voice, now. Curdled and laboured still, even as it halted and pawed slowly and thickly through each word, it sounded chillingly gleeful.

it seems. to have worked. for you.

“Alright, that’s it-” The Captain stepped forwards, grabbed the handle, and in one move threw the closet door wide open.

It was empty.

Or, not quite empty. As the Captain stood, confused, looking into a shallow space with a few hangars still bundled on the rail, a few boxes stacked on shelves above, he could make up a dark, spreading splotch in the lower corner. By the light of his screen he could see it, like a burn, a sludgy Pompeii cast, the shadowy shape where something had been for a while and was no longer. The impressions of fine lines, like fern fronds or fungus, crawled across the carpet and the walls, radiating outwards, etched like the marks of something that had been clinging on for dear life with a grip that stained and scarred.

The Captain looked at it, and a shivery crawling ice-cold sensation travelled slowly all the way up to the top of his head. It was the feeling of adjusting ideas. He’d been quick to point out, earlier, that Mark’s ideas were not set in stone, that his certainties could still change and that being open-minded was not just necessary but healthy, a vital critical skill. He was, on the whole, a huge fan of the concept. What he was not a fan of was the simple difference between knowing, on Mark’s advice, that the thing was in the closet and couldn’t move, and now knowing that yes it could and it might be anywhere.

A sound, low and somehow sticky, just above the threshold of silence. The Captain turned, sharply, looked up. Flung up an arm, the bright screen at his shoulder flaring and scattering apart as his concentration broke-

-and the light went out.

pathetic.

The voice, slow and satisfied, in the darkness.

you thought you were. the only one who could see. these humans. how they really are. you thought. you have. the insight… to understand… us?

from them?

or.

from you?

It felt like drowning, bodiless, a sinking scrap of flotsam in a sea of black ink. It felt like dying. It felt like falling, hurtling through space, without the strength to stop or save himself, bright stars burning above, black earth below. It felt like-

small. scared.

The voice was laughing.

alone.

Somewhere, a million miles away in the physical world, he knew his body still existed, still moved and breathed. He couldn’t see it. He couldn’t see anything but the blackness and the terrible awareness of the thing that had been playing with Mark Mayhew for months, the ghastly enveloping consciousness of a thing that was bigger, somehow so much bigger, than any gluey spitball lump in a closet had the right to be.

He had been wrong. He had tried to think, he had wanted to think, that the thing felt huge because it had such a strong hold, that it seemed so vast and looming because of how much it overshadowed Mark’s mind, how much it had gorged itself on the ideas and energy of the human it had chosen. Now, too close and too late, he felt the full scale of it, the sense of many, the voice in his head just one swollen tendril of a gargantuan, interconnected whole.

so weak. so limited. so much. like us but… so much less. you attached yourself to one human. one host. to survive. his ideas. gave you form.

The feeling of intrusion, of this careless amused thing pawing clumsily through his memories, was an obscene assault on all of the senses he had left. He would have screamed, if he’d still been in control of anything to scream with.

his power to create. yours. his identity. yours. such short-sighted… waste. to chain yourself to one. finite. human. when every idea in this world. could be yours.

you chase. their approval. try to influence. their minds. always afraid… that they will stop. giving.

that he will forget you.

A long, complacent, unbearable breath. Wet, slow, full of teeth, the sound of a wide, wide, jagged smile.

humans forget. so easily. our host. will not know. what became of you. in time. he will give us. his ideas. his channel. his friend. his mind. in time. he will give us. everything he has left. and with Reconnection… everything he was. will only be another part. of us.

of all. of us.

of MOTHER.

Eyes and teeth, teeth and eyes. A world, a whole world of nothing but heaving black and gold, hunger and hatred.

With a horrendous effort, the Captain looked back. Made himself look. To remember he had a mouth, a tongue, a voice of his own, that he knew words, that he had something to say, these things felt like the most arduous impossibilities in the world, but to remember them was to grasp that they were real. That if these things were real-

-so was he.

“You… forgot…” He had to stop, gather strength. Every word felt like it weighed a ton, his voice weak, thin, like the echo of something only half there. But he could hear it, he could hear himself, the reassurance of the sound existing in a physical space, an incontrovertible reality.

As if his voice was a locus, a signal in the dark, he began to grasp some sense of what kind of a space it was. Wood panelling, clean stone flags, copper pans and utensils hanging from the ceiling like strange fruit, a door somewhere to the left with thick, dimpled glass. Not the place he’d lost himself in. Perhaps he’d wandered down the dark, creaking stairs without knowing it, perhaps he’d been drawn mechanically down, closer, the cellar door a yawning black mouth at the kitchen’s end. He couldn’t know for sure, but it mattered very little as long as he could sense that there was movement, here in the darkness. Something besides himself.

He tried again.

“… forgot something…”

The voice was amused. It couldn’t hear, or maybe it was deaf altogether, to the sharp bright sound that was growing clearer by the second in the Captain’s mind. He could feel the sluggish thing gathering itself, maybe bored of this game, maybe too hungry to resist much longer, even for fun.

oh? tell us.

The Captain’s gloved hands felt numb and a billion miles away from his body, but with his rising sense of where he was came control, and with slow groping fingers he found the pocket of his jacket, felt inside. Brought out Alan’s phone, the screen bright, the call-time ticking.

And then there was a click, and a sick, squishing, suckery smack, and as light flooded across the kitchen Mark was at his side, his pale bloodless face full of fury and loathing, his own phone clattering to the floor as he grabbed and held the thing, his Muse, tightly clamped in both hands.

“I heard everything, you slimy little shit.”

In the blinding yellow light Mark’s Muse was a pathetically small thing, barely a double handful of writhing tendrils and beady little black eyes, screaming and yammering up a hail of noise in both of their minds as it flailed in shock and outrage. Inky goop ran bubbling and dripping, twisting down Mark’s arms to the elbows as he raised it, holding it at revolted arms-length away from his chest, ripping every frantic hold it had on walls and skin and clothing loose in one savage yank as he strode away across the kitchen.

no no no no no! Mark! please!! your m-

The voice broke off into a horrendous wail, as Mark slam-dunked the squirming mass straight down into the sink, slamming the button with one bony elbow and stuffing the shrieking thing right into the hungry buzzing throat of the garbage disposal.

A spray of black ichor, a terrible gloopy crunch. The mechanism struggled for a moment or two, getting to grips with such an unexpected, unwieldy meal, but after a heart-stopping cartilaginous crack and a couple of deep munching growls it evened up into a nice, even, disengaged purr. A little inky water rose, filling the sink to barely an inch, before it rippled quietly back down, and the water ran clear.

It was barely dawn on the morning of the next day. A fine, blue summer morning, already hot, the rain still lying in puddles and glittering in the grass, ready to be baked out of existence by the day’s heat.

Alan, about as awake as anybody would be, jangled abruptly out of sleep by the doorbell, stumbled to his front door as if the remains of his vivid and troubled dreams were tumbled about like an obstacle-course, getting in his way. The feeling of unreality failed to entirely go away even after he had gotten the door open, and squinted sleepily out with a hand up to shield against the soft rising sunlight, because the Captain was standing on his front path, with every appearance of having rung the doorbell himself. At least, there was nobody and nothing else in sight, although Alan took a bewildered look up and down the length of the potholed driveway that ran along the side of the building, towards the road.

It wasn’t solely that the Captain didn’t generally do doorbells, or knocking- though he didn’t- or that he looked distinctly uncomfortable- though he did. It was unusual and alarming enough that he was here at all, let alone here, so weirdly still and awkward-looking and lacking any immediate, demanding motive, at stupid o’clock on a Sunday morning, with nothing to explain himself apart from a small cardboard tray.

On a normal, day-to-day basis, the Captain barely acknowledged that Alan had a life beyond Disillusion Industries. Although very far from the way he’d been, a long time ago, it certainly was the way he navigated things now. If faced with evidence that Alan did not exclusively pop into being whenever the Captain required him to exist, that he was an actual person who had to do boring human things like eat and sleep and pay taxes, had family, friends, a home- he tended to handle it poorly. Alan had slowly come to accept this selective blindness as a good thing, on the whole, given that when the Captain did manage to co-opt some other element of Alan’s life into Disillusion Industries, his approach could be… less than careful. The last time he had ever come anywhere near this quiet suburban street, on a certain memorable occasion nearly six years prior, he’d entered Alan’s apartment through a window, and left through the roof.

Seeing the Captain standing on his narrow little strip of a front walk, therefore, made Alan nervous. The roof was long since fixed, and he really wanted it to stay that way.

“Captain?” Alan stifled a yawn so strenuous it nearly made his jaw pop. “I- I know you said early, but it’s not even six yet…”

The Captain hesitated, then dug in his jacket pocket with his free hand. There seemed to be a quantity of dull black staining, like dried ink, in an arterial spray across his front, making him look as if he’d stood in the way of a minor printer malfunction.

“Here’s your phone,” he said, awkwardly, passing it across. Finding it sticky with the same dark congealed goop, Alan took it very gingerly between finger and thumb, and with no better idea of what to do with it, wiped it off on the hem of his shirt.

“…Thanks.”

Leica, a small, lithe bundle of calico fur and curious ears, padded around his legs and greeted the Captain like an old friend, her coat a vivid hodgepodge of orange-black-white-orange as she twined happily around his ankles in the early sun. The comforting normalcy of her presence made it easier for Alan to go on.

“What happened last night, Captain? Why did you make me promise to go straight home from the hospital? Why did you need my phone? Is- is everything alright?”

The Captain stooped to scratch Leica in the sweet spot, the fluffy white bib under her chin. She leaned into his touch, squinting her large green eyes. Here, her confidence had the advantage over Alan’s, in that she had known the Captain her entire life, and had never known him to treat her with anything other than affectionate respect.

“I brought coffee,” he said.

Alan was thrown enough by this extraordinary statement, without immediately being faced with proof that it was true, as the Captain straightened up again and handed him a takeaway cup from the little cardboard holder. The fact that it was stone cold (unsurprising, as it originated in a café chain located several hours to the north) barely registered with him. It always used to be, he remembered, vaguely. Regardless of all the difficult scientific realities he understood without a hitch, the Captain had never quite managed to grasp the concept of thermal entropy over time.

“Wh-”

“Alan, if you say ‘why,’” said the Captain, in a headlong, completely desperate voice, “I’m going to lose my mother- hecking- mind. We need to talk about so much- like, all of the things- and I have no idea how to start. I have no idea- how- to explain myself.”

(what happened? i don’t remember what happened. does it matter? we’re okay, aren’t we? we’re both okay.)

“I mean- I’ve never had any idea how to explain you,” said Alan, cautiously. “If that helps? And we… we kind of agreed we wouldn’t try, didn’t we? Right at the beginning.”

The Captain shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “Maybe that was a mistake.”

Now that Alan was awake enough to look closer, see more, the Captain definitely looked as if he’d been through something. The splattering of black goop was worrying enough, considering he was the only person Alan knew (or had ever known) who bled black, but he didn’t look hurt anywhere- just exhausted, like something since the hospital had completely floored him and he’d only just made it back upright. It wasn’t just that, either. The Captain looked terribly shaken. He was always so quick to ward off any idea that he wasn’t one-hundred-percent perfect, hiding any real weakness or bad feeling under a million layers of prickly dramatic deflection that made it impossible for most people to even tell if it was genuine or not, that Alan couldn’t feel through to any way of asking if he really was alright.

He didn’t look alright, and he’d ignored even the least direct approach to the question, and there the options dead-ended. The best Alan could do was ask something else, something that at least got close.

"What was it, Captain?"

"Something... here from somewhere else."

This at least felt like a straight answer, if not exactly a complete one. "Like..." Alan hesitated. "Like you?"

The Captain flinched. "No. Nothing... nothing like me."

“Are those kids going to be okay?”

“Kids? Come on, Alan, they’re like twenty-five.” When Alan only continued to look at him, the Captain sighed. “Yes. Probably. More okay than they’d… well, that’s probably something else we need to talk about. I told you I have no idea how to start. But I- I couldn’t risk you getting caught up in the whole thing. I needed to know you were a really long way away, or I couldn’t have…”

“I mean, I understand that,” said Alan.

The Captain looked at him with some amount of surprise, and enough relief to make Alan suddenly not at all certain he understood anything at all. “You do?”

“Sure? It was superhero stuff, it’s not like there was anything I could have done.” He waved his free hand vaguely at the Captain, who wasn’t helping his confusion by watching him with a sinking, anxious kind of disappointment in his half-silver face. Falling back on self-deprecation at least felt safe, not as strange or as unsettling as the growing realisation that the moment in the shuttle the previous day might not just been a painful one-off piece of weirdness, that something between them could actually have changed and stayed changed.

“You’re Captain Disillusion, I’m just… the guy that does your laundry.”

“That’s not true. It’s- never- been true. Alan, I…” The Captain struggled for a moment or two, like he was wrestling with something big and painful stuck in his throat, then ran a hand across his face, scrubbing off a few dried flecks of black from his nose and dragging a finger gingerly under the line of his mask, as if all of a sudden it was bothering him. He glanced up at the sun, still rising above the thin fence of palings that ran the length of the driveway, and then looked at Alan, directly, his sharp bright eyes defiant, vulnerable, sorry, bewildered.

“… Can I come in?”

Alan blinked a couple of times, then smiled. He reached out and took the Captain’s coffee, still in the little cardboard holder, and tucked his own cup in the space next to it.

“Of course. Come in, Captain. Let me heat these up a little, and… we can talk.”

#dftm #don't feed the muse #muse arg #mark mayhew #anthony williams #captain disillusion #alan the intern #alan amelik #my writing

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envihellbender · 3 months ago

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More fat Michael and Gerry !!

Rating: Mature (kink)

Characters: Gerard Keay, Michael Shelley

Content: feedee/feeder, feedee Michael, feeder Gerry

—

The loud creaking of the bed springs, the clattering of the slats that really needed reinforcing, the wheezing groan, and the loud thumping footsteps told Gerry that Michael was awake from the other side of their little flat in their modest kitchen. There was already a large buffet out specifically for Michael all over the small dining table but Gerry wanted the eggs to be as fresh as possible. He’d timed it perfectly so that when the tall, waddling young man made it to his specially reinforced bariatric chair - which had to be pushed back to make way for his expansive gut as it brushed against the floor and pushed his rotund to the sides causing a slight pain in his hips when he walked - Gerry had placed in front of him a large plate of six fried, seven poached, and five scrambled eggs on top of his breakfast feast of pancakes, toast, croissants, muffins, veggie bacon, and veggie sausages.

“G’morning, babe,” Gerry said with a proud grinning, kissing on top of Michael’s curls.

“Wow, amazing as always, my love,” he replied, his voice a wheezing gasp at the exertion from walking so far. As if reading his mind - or rather the red, sweat-covered cheeks - Gerry hurried to the fridge to get a large two litre bottle of Fanta. He pulled over a foldable table and placed it on top since there wasn’t room for it. He unfastened the lid, knowing that Michael struggled with it now his hands were so plump and swollen. He then sat down and helped himself to one pancake and covered it in syrup and chopped up banana. It looked comically small next to Michael’s who looked at Gerry quizically.

“You sure you have enough to eat?” He asked unsure as to how anyone could live on such a small breakfast.

“Uh-huh,” Gerry mumbled around his mouthful, he swallowed a little forcefully. “I’m good babe, don’t worry.”

“Oh, okay…” Michael wasn’t sure but gave in and began devouring the food in front of him. After finishing the eggs he no longer bothered with a knife and fork, using both his hands to shovel food into his mouth. Gerry watched in adoration, he loved seeing the crumbs stick to his plump lips and the sauce pool into his neck roll. He was delighted that Michael didn’t bother to wear pyjamas anymore or many clothes around the house, because seeing the food fall onto his gigantic breasts that poured out into his lap was quite the sight. “Oh erm, by the way.” Michael had a mouthful of Fanta, and stifled a burp behind one hand. “Erm. Yeah so, Emma’s going to drop off a few boxes of work for me today. Hoping I could work from home maybe.” Gerry tried to hide his delight at hearing just that.

“Great! That’ll be easier on your joints, won’t it? I know how tiring getting into the office is now,” he replied sympathetically.

“Yeah! Yeah, exactly. So, I dunno. I dunno how I got round-” Michael frowned. He had a theory, but didn’t want to sound like he was accusing Gerry. Instead he began filling his mouth with the rest of the pancakes.

“That’ll be great, anyway. I’ll go get the shower ready, yeah? So you’re ready when she gets here.” Gerry bounced to his feet, a wide grin on his face as he resisted the urge to whistle on the way to the bathroom through fear of seeming suspiciously happy. What Michael didn’t know was that under the floorboards by the door was the only Leitner that Gerry wouldn’t burn, one he took from his mother and acted as a faux-Eye of sorts. So long as Michael stayed in the same room as it, Elias couldn’t see him and the Archives would carry on as if Michael was right in the heart of it. All Gerry had to do was make sure he fed Michael up so he was big enough he couldn’t leave the flat, which was turning out to be far easier than he thought. That was why when he prepared the shower he felt an ecstatic hyperactivity filling his body. He’d finally figured out how to keep Michael safe.

#do not archive #envi writes #feedee/feeder #ssbhm feedee #wg fiction

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gargoyle-godzilla · 1 year ago

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One of the basic pieces of furniture, a chair is a type of seat. Its primary features are two pieces of a durable material, attached as back and seat to one another at a 90° or slightly greater angle, with usually the four corners of the horizontal seat attached in turn to four legs—or other parts of the seat's underside attached to three legs or to a shaft about which a four-arm turnstile on rollers can turn—strong enough to support the weight of a person who sits on the seat (usually wide and broad enough to hold the lower body from the buttocks almost to the knees) and leans against the vertical back (usually high and wide enough to support the back to the shoulder blades). The legs are typically high enough for the seated person's thighs and knees to form a 90° or lesser angle.[1][2] Used in a number of rooms in homes (e.g. in living rooms, dining rooms, and dens), in schools and offices (with desks), and in various other workplaces, chairs may be made of wood, metal, or synthetic materials, and either the seat alone or the entire chair may be padded or upholstered in various colors and fabrics.

Chairs vary in design. An armchair has armrests fixed to the seat;[3] a recliner is upholstered and under its seat is a mechanism that allows one to lower the chair's back and raise into place a fold-out footrest;[4] a rocking chair has legs fixed to two long curved slats; a wheelchair has wheels fixed to an axis under the seat.[5]

#digital art #art #hlvrai #dr coomer #hlvrai coomer #chair wikipedia

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ejbcya · 2 years ago

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FFXIV Free Company Housing ‘Starstruck’

Beyond an aether shadow of a doubt.

Jenova, Empyreum 5th Ward, Plot 1

more pictures and commentary under the cut

Been playing ffxiv lately and the free company i’m in got a house when the lottery system first dropped a while back. was appointed housing master since nobody else was really playing at the time and were keen to decorate.

only a small plot but the view is nice being fairly isolated and elevated from the other houses. got easy access to the marketboard which was really helpful when i was crafting most of the furniture.

exterior furniture limit was a measly 20 items but the cafe exterior did alleviate the limit by including a cute patio and outdoor dining. replaced the stargazing carbuncle for a striking dummy so i could place a retainer outside attending the bbq spit.

small houses are only allowed one gardening plot so i placed ours up front. can actually reach the roof by jumping from the stables or garden here.

current entrance design. wanted to mimic the window arch of the default exterior as basement glitching obscured original entrance. the back of the tonberry couch and decorative wall fan made a nice rising sun pattern when clipped through the window.

older design originally had wooden slats give a stronger impression of separate doors with a more pronounced handle, but decided to save slots and replace it with a fabric rack above to accent the couch pattern - it also served as a hitbox, otherwise players could clip through the whole door (which is still possible by just jumping through the window lol).

current west wall. used aurora lights phasmascape as falcon’s nest is nearby ishgard. creating the lattice pattern used two factory partitions since the phasmascape has a slight curve around the middle. added a tabletop showcase giving a soft back glow and subtle reflection up close.

old pic of west wall. i liked the idea of a curved window frame but changed it since the slot commitment was a bit high when i also used two swag valences to hide the upper part of the phasmascape. liked the bread rack textures as a wall accent better, but the current blank partitions are wide enough to also force camera to not clip into the adjacent bookshelves.

even older pic of west wall, where the window was wider. might return to this idea and expose more of the distant sky. could probably hang more curtains so it looks less like a high hanging flatscreen tv.

also older pic of entrance lounge. south seas couch is real nice matching by the fortemps fireplace, but decided against the whites and marble.

old pic of entrance and lounge. bit better view of the custom ceiling which is still present. lofted a glade canopy bed to encircle the chandelier. used to have the cute ronka rocking chair floated ontop the harpsichord, but wanted a couch for at least two people to chill.

current entrance lounge. snuck the suzaku painting into the crafting loom as a ‘magical fireplace’ of sorts. - didn’t like the idea of live flames being so close to all these books lol.

current north wall. used the wondrous door window as, well, a door. rotated it so that the sun rays don’t shine inwards. hid the g’raha portrait and used the bottom tassel to accent the door. originally wanted those tassels on the west aurora wall, but the painting kept snapping to the lattice factory partitions.

another view of current north wall. lots more book shelves. chopped down a lot of rosewood trees. flipped the staggered shelf and used the blank middle circle to hang a clock, hiding the numbers. basement entrance is right behind the trick door bookshelf.

old east wall. used to have a private and cozy reading nook - (un)fortunately inaccessible to taller people.

current east wall. replaced the reading nook with a retainer waiting nook. hid a storm cot behind a hingan shelf, exposing just the wall papers. floated a nymian wall lamp against the storm cot vertical beam, making it appear as a rotatable fixture.

current east wall, upper floor. used glade bookshelf as a table and rotated the orchestrion because i like the back pattern.

old pic of basement hallway. i like using wood slats as partitions, but alas, the furniture limit limits thus.

old basement hallway also didn’t branch right into back boiler room. window light rays looked nice shining on the indoor tree.

old basement entryway. used to have a small lounge with the retainer bell stacked on some books. the oasis couch was snug was lined nicely with the wall and shelf.

current basement hallway. made aquariums freshwater as the brackish water gives a softer yellow green lighting.

also like having the allagan nodes floating in the tank. just silly lil floating guys. used to have chairs hidden under these partition tables so you sit right next to the aquarium glass, but scrapped the idea to save on slots.

current basement entryway. lowered ceiling with tatami loft and added hanging ornamental array. even more bookshelves yup.

and walking up these stairs to..

a small dining area! one of my fav spots in the house and surprisingly went through the least renovations. the crystal array and seawater tank gave a vibrant blue lighting, distinct from all other areas so far. lofted an indoor pond so camera wouldn’t clip into this area from the below kitchen, but the geometry caused rocks to still jut out, which i personally feel adds a bit more rustic flare anyhow.

and the kitchen area right below the dining room. rotated the hingan oven such that the pipe lined up with a ceiling light fixture. wanted to give impression of exposed plumbing, leading to boiler room in the next room over.

kitchen’s other side, with a step stool for me. saving slots meant exposing the blue stage curtain draping from the dining area. wanted to place a lot of edible foods on the table, but ended up only using a cooking facility and grocery cart to cover a wider area of the kitchen steppe kitchen.

old pic of backroom boiler hallway. changed the sliding door to a simple windor-door to better guide camera through the hallway. used to have a hairdresser bell here, thinking you’d be able to chill in the bath close by right after a haircut.

old backroom. used to the ‘red room’ as that’ll be all i’d see when i miss the hammer tower minigame. was fond of how the cataur was illuminated dramatically here.

had the stairs lead up to a glade bath. the cherry petals looked really pretty floating in the water. the ambiance when the light was shining was really lovely.

eventually scrapped the backroom-bathroom idea in favour of a more industrial boiler-energy room that would provide energy throughout the house. used lots of enigma partitions alongside factory grates here.

lots of motion with the rotating gears, and even occasional steam exhaust from the alchemy furnace. loose fabrics close to rotating gears might be a safety hazard, but i still like the stage curtain hanging here.

finally a bonus pic of the void. would sometimes jump up after closing menus and find myself here. can see the panels and bed i stuck through the ceiling.

ffxiv housing is fun with the unique kinds of furnishings available and the housing community is always sharing new and creative designs. thanks for reading through this guided tour and hope you visit our small house in this big mmo!

#ffxiv #ffxiv housing #come visit and take a look around!#haha spent way too much time and gil on this #wanted to make a house antithetical to a lot of modern designs #we live in a realm. so like i didnt want sleek couches and tv sets #spent more time working with the default textures and patterns of lots of furniture to keep within slot limit while maximizing floor space #like we bought the whole house so gotta use the whole house #also thankfully a single fc member is hardcore and is perpetually subbed so i dont have to worry about paying every month to keep the house #might make a video tour showcasing more of the hidden furnishings behind everything idk

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pureorangejuicefromconcentrate · 2 months ago

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ive spent a weird amount of time procrastinating by just reading random Wikipedia articles about stuff im wandering about.

like for example did you know that the chair is one of the basic pieces of furniture, a chair is a type of seat. Its primary features are two pieces of a durable material, attached as back and seat to one another at a 90° or slightly greater angle, with usually the four corners of the horizontal seat attached in turn to four legs—or other parts of the seat's underside attached to three legs or to a shaft about which a four-arm turnstile on rollers can turn—strong enough to support the weight of a person who sits on the seat (usually wide and broad enough to hold the lower body from the buttocks almost to the knees) and leans against the vertical back (usually high and wide enough to support the back to the shoulder blades). The legs are typically high enough for the seated person's thighs and knees to form a 90° or lesser angle.[1][2] Used in a number of rooms in homes (e.g. in living rooms, dining rooms, and dens), in schools and offices (with desks), and in various other workplaces, chairs may be made of wood, metal, or synthetic materials, and either the seat alone or the entire chair may be padded or upholstered in various colors and fabrics.

Etymology

Chair comes from the early 13th-century English word chaere, from Old French chaiere ("chair, seat, throne"), from Latin cathedra ("seat").[6]

History

Main article: History of the chair

Five three-legged chairs around a low-legged table from Sliven 19th Century Lifestyle Museum

Early 20th-century armchair made in eastern Australia, with strong heraldic embellishment The chair has been used since antiquity, although for many centuries it was a symbolic article of state and dignity rather than an article for ordinary use. "The chair" is still used as the emblem of authority in the House of Commons in the United Kingdom[7] and Canada,[8] and in many other settings. In keeping with this historical connotation of the "chair" as the symbol of authority, committees, boards of directors, and academic departments all have a 'chairman' or 'chair'.[9] Endowed professorships are referred to as chairs.[10] It was not until the 16th century that chairs became common.[11] Until then, people sat on chests, benches, and stools, which were the ordinary seats of everyday life. The number of chairs which have survived from an earlier date is exceedingly limited; most examples are of ecclesiastical, seigneurial or feudal origin.[citation needed]

Chairs were in existence since at least the Early Dynastic Period of Egypt (c. 3100 BC). They were covered with cloth or leather, were made of carved wood, and were much lower than today's chairs – chair seats were sometimes only 10 inches (25 cm) high.[12] In ancient Egypt chairs appear to have been of great richness and splendor. Fashioned of ebony and ivory, or of carved and gilded wood, they were covered with costly materials, magnificent patterns and supported upon representations of the legs of beasts or the figures of captives. Generally speaking, the higher ranked an individual was, the taller and more sumptuous was the chair he sat on and the greater the honor. On state occasions the pharaoh sat on a throne, often with a little footstool in front of it.[13]

The average Egyptian family seldom had chairs, and if they did, it was usually only the master of the household who sat on a chair. Among the better off, the chairs might be painted to look like the ornate inlaid and carved chairs of the rich, but the craftsmanship was usually poor.[12]

on wikipedia straight up "learning it". and by "learning it" i mean, lets just say.. information

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affiliate21 · 9 days ago

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Dining Chairs: An Essential Guide to Comfort, Style, and Functionality

Dining chairs are a vital part of any dining area, providing comfort, enhancing the overall aesthetic, and complementing the dining table. They may seem like simple pieces of furniture, but choosing the right dining chairs can significantly impact your dining experience and the look of your home. In this article, we will explore the history, types, materials, and styles of dining chairs, and provide tips on selecting the perfect set for your dining space.

Dining chairs are very important for a room, and they are needed to decorate the tables. Tablecloths are also very important to decorate the dining tables, so a dining Tablecloth is needed for a dining chair

The History of Dining Chairs

The concept of dining chairs dates back to ancient civilizations, where the most basic forms were simply stools or benches used in communal dining halls. These early designs were simple, made from wood or stone, and lacked any kind of backrest.

During the Middle Ages, dining tables and chairs were often basic and functional. Nobility might have had more ornate versions, but common households used benches or stools for seating. It wasn't until the Renaissance that dining chairs began to take on a more elaborate and comfortable form. With the advent of the Baroque period in Europe, the focus shifted towards comfort and intricate design, featuring upholstered seats, carved wood, and decorative accents.

The Industrial Revolution brought mass production techniques to the furniture industry, making dining chairs more accessible to the average household. Today, dining chairs come in a variety of styles, materials, and price points, catering to different tastes and needs.

Types of Dining Chairs

When it comes to dining chairs, there are numerous types to choose from, each offering unique features and benefits.

Side Chairs

Side chairs are the most traditional and versatile type of dining chair. They have no arms, making them easy to slide under the table when not in use. Their streamlined design allows for maximum seating capacity around the table. Side chairs are available in various styles, from classic wooden designs to modern, upholstered versions.

Armchairs

Dining armchairs come with armrests, offering additional comfort and a more formal look. They are often placed at the head of rectangular dining tables, serving as accent chairs that highlight the ends of the table. Armchairs can also be used as part of a set with side chairs or on their own for a mix-and-match look.

Parsons Chairs

Named after the Parsons School of Design, Parsons chairs are characterized by their sleek, armless design and upholstered seats. They offer a minimalist and elegant look, making them suitable for modern and contemporary dining rooms. Their cushioned seats and backs provide extra comfort, making them a popular choice for long dinners.

Windsor Chairs

Windsor chairs have a distinct design featuring a rounded, spindle-back structure. They are typically made from wood and have a rustic or traditional look, making them a great fit for farmhouse-style dining rooms. The design provides excellent support and comfort due to its curved back and sturdy construction.

Slat-Back Chairs

Slat-back chairs feature vertical or horizontal slats on the backrest, offering both support and ventilation. These chairs have a timeless appeal and are often made from wood. They fit well in both traditional and casual dining settings.

Upholstered Chairs

Upholstered dining chairs have cushioned seats and backs covered with fabric, leather, or faux leather. They offer superior comfort and can be found in various styles, from classic to contemporary. Upholstered chairs add a touch of luxury to any dining space but may require more maintenance, especially with fabric coverings.

Bench Seating

While not technically chairs, benches have become a popular seating option for dining tables. They offer a casual, communal seating arrangement and can accommodate multiple people at once. Benches are versatile and can be paired with side chairs for a mixed seating arrangement.

Materials Used in Dining Chairs

Dining chairs are made from a variety of materials, each offering different advantages in terms of aesthetics, durability, and comfort.

Wood

Wooden dining chairs are classic and timeless, offering a warm and natural look.Wooden chairs can be left natural, stained, or painted, making them versatile for different styles. They are durable and sturdy, making them a great long-term investment.

Metal

Metal dining chairs, often made from steel, iron, or aluminum, are durable and versatile. They can fit into industrial, contemporary, or minimalist decor styles.

Plastic and Acrylic

Plastic and acrylic chairs are modern, lightweight, and affordable. They are often used in contemporary or minimalist dining spaces due to their sleek and simple design. These materials are easy to clean and maintain, making them suitable for families with young children.

Upholstery (Fabric, Leather, Faux Leather)

Upholstered dining chairs offer comfort and a touch of luxury. Fabric options provide a soft, warm feel and come in a wide range of colors and patterns. Leather and faux leather are more durable and easier to clean, offering a sleek and sophisticated look. However, they can be more expensive than fabric options.

Rattan and Wicker

Rattan and wicker chairs have a natural, woven look that adds texture and warmth to a dining space. They are often used in bohemian, coastal, or rustic-themed interiors. While they may not be as durable as metal or wood, they are lightweight and can be easily moved.

Choosing the Right Dining Chairs

Selecting the perfect dining chairs involves considering several factors, such as comfort, style, and the overall functionality of your space.

Style and Design

The style of your dining chairs should complement your dining table and the overall decor of your space. For a cohesive look, choose chairs that match the table in color, material, or style. Alternatively, you can create a more eclectic look by mixing different styles or colors.

Size and Proportion

Ensure that your dining chairs are the right size for your table. There should be at least 12 inches of space between the seat of the chair and the underside of the table for comfortable legroom. Additionally, consider the number of chairs that can fit around your table without overcrowding the space.

Durability and Maintenance

For example, if you have young children or pets, opt for materials like metal, plastic, or leather, which are easier to clean than fabric.

Caring for Your Dining Chairs

Proper maintenance can extend the life of your dining chairs. Here are some care tips:

Metal: Wipe with a dry or damp cloth and avoid using abrasive cleaners.

Upholstery: Vacuum regularly and spot-clean stains as needed. Consider using slipcovers for added protection.

Leather: Wipe with a damp cloth and use a leather conditioner to prevent cracking.

Conclusion

Dining chairs are more than just functional seating; they play a crucial role in defining the style and comfort of your dining area. With the right choice, your dining chairs can enhance the aesthetic of your space and provide a welcoming environment for family and friends. Whether you prefer classic wooden designs, sleek modern options, or cozy upholstered chairs, the perfect dining chair set is out there waiting to complement your home.

#dining table #dining room #chairs

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insaraffurniture · 6 months ago

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Revamp Your Space with Stunning Chairs At Saraf Furniture

Chairs are important pieces of furniture in any home as they give you a place to sit and relax. We all know that chairs come in many styles from classic to modern designs but you must pick the right chair styles to make your home look great.

Level Up Your Living Space: Unleash the Power of Stylish Chairs at Saraf Furniture!

Saraf Furniture, a top seller of stylish chairs offers high-quality chairs based on excellent Insaraf Furniture reviews. This article talks about different chair styles you can use to decorate your home.

We look at classic wood chairs as well as sleek modern chairs. You will learn what styles work best in different rooms. So, read on to find fashionable chair ideas for your home.

5 Stunning Wooden Chair Designs to Elevate Your Home Decor

Wooden chairs come in many styles to suit different rooms and tastes.

Here is an overview on some of the most selling wooden chairs:

Minimalist Wooden Chair Design

These chairs have an extremely simple and pared-down design with no extra embellishments or decorative elements. They typically feature clean lines, an open rectangular frame, and minimal detailing to achieve a modern, uncluttered look. The wood is left with a natural, light-coloured finish to showcase the beauty of the wood grain itself.

Mid-Century Modern Wooden Chair Design

Popularised in the 1950s-1960s, these vintage-inspired chairs are characterised by an iconic curved backrest and angled or tapered wood legs. The sculptural shapes and use of wooden slats or moulded plywood panels give them a distinctly retro yet stylish flair. Mid-century chairs pair well with both vintage and contemporary decor styles.

Contemporary Wooden Chair Design

These chairs blend a rustic, natural wood finish and aesthetic with more contemporary design elements like slatted backrests or armrests. The wood may feature knots, grains, and other organic imperfections that give it a warm, earthy vibe. The rustic textures are combined with clean, modern lines for an updated take on farmhouse or cabin-inspired decor.

Read More: Light and Airy: Furniture Styles to Keep Your Home Cool This Summer

Modern Designer Wooden Chair

These avant-garde wooden chairs are designed by renowned furniture makers or artist-designers. They often incorporate innovative or experimental shapes, forms, joinery, and wood manipulation techniques. Modern designer chairs are functional art pieces meant to be conversation starters and accent items.

Wooden Chair Design for Study Table

When choosing a wooden chair for a study area, the priorities are ergonomics and back support for long periods of sitting. Chairs may feature curved backrests that follow the spine's natural shape as well as armrests to reduce shoulder tension. An adjustable swivel base allows easy movement between the desk and bookshelves.

Find the Perfect Chair for Every Room

No matter what room you need to furnish, there is a chair type to fit the space. Lounge chairs provide ultimate comfort for relaxing. Look for an overstuffed chair with thick cushions that you can sink into. Recliners with an extending footrest are also cosy lounge options. Position lounge chairs next to a window or near a fireplace for a serene sitting area.

When choosing chairs for your dining room or living room, consider versatile dining cum living chairs. These multi-purpose chairs work hard in both areas. Look for a simple, streamlined design that coordinates with your kitchen table and living room sofa. Chairs with an upholstered seat and wood back are a timeless choice.

Armchairs are perfect for living rooms, dens, or home offices where you want to create a cosy reading nook. An armchair keeps you supported with padded arms to rest your elbows. Many styles like wingback or club chairs have an enveloping wrap-around design. This makes them feel like your own personal retreat space.

For top-quality comfortable chairs, check out Saraf Furniture Reviews and there diverse offerings. The Saraf Furniture Owner takes pride in sourcing sturdy, well-crafted chairs for the home. Just read through the many positive Saraf Furniture Reviews to see the quality they deliver. No matter what chair style you need, InSaraf Furniture has a cosy option to upgrade your living space.

Decorating with stylish chairs elevates any room's design. From classic wooden pieces to modern loungers, chairs create cosy sitting spaces. Browse all the chair options at Insaraf Furniture to find the perfect fit. Their knowledgeable staff can guide you to chairs that complement your home's aesthetic. Visit a Saraf Furniture showroom today or explore their online gallery to bring home high-quality, fashionable chairs.

Read More : Raghunandan Saraf Success Story: MBA की डिग्री, उधार के पैसे से शुरू किया बिजनेस, रघुनंदन सराफ ने ऑनलाइन फर्नीचर बेचकर खड़ा किया करोड़ों का कारोबार

#insaraf furniture #saraf furniture reviews #saraf furniture review #insaraf review #saraf furniture owner #insaraf reviews #insaraf furniture reviews #saraffurniture #saraf furntiure reviews #insaraffurniture

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