#smart disinfectant tunnels

[ff-killjam]

Insistent Care (Pest x Reader)

A/N: something simple for now, I'll try to write some more interesting and longer fics of this guy in the soon future

Reader can be read as gn as it is not specified

Feedback is greatly welcomed and encouraged

Pest was someone you will tend to see walk into the elevator and reserve himself to a corner of it, staying away from anyone else who just so happens to be in there. You didn’t think much of him for the most part, other than thinking how cool those mandibles are…

Nothing much happened between thew two of you until one day he just so happened to pickpocket you and made note of it just as the doors of the elevator was about to close. You remember his smirk and showing what money he took as you try to catch the doors and prevent them from closing. Too bad someone dropped a banana peel on the ground, causing you to faceplant right into the ground.

Thanks to the combination of losing your cash and looking like a fool with a face full of pain, you tried to avoid Pest (and any future banana peels). Thankfully, for the next couple of trips on the elevator, you didn't spot the guy near or in the elevator.

The elevator stops at the subway station. Feeling the need to explore down the tracks for potential cash, you hop off the platform after something speeds by and walk down the dark tunnel with your light. You search one side of a platform found not too far away from the main one, making sure not to miss anything. You turn your focus to the other side, almost dropping your light as you spot Pest sitting on the ground against the wall. He sneers at you but doesn’t move.

“Hey… are you alright?” You mustered up some courage to say something, to which he ignores your question. Part of you wants to just leave and head back to the elevator, but you take a step closer to him anyways.

“Go away” He coldly demands. You feel your heart rate spike up but brave it out and get closer again. “Are you deaf?”

“Nope” You simply reply as you kneel somewhat close to him. You notice that he has a hand on the side of his torso and what you assume to be some blood bleeding out. It wasn’t a major loss but is still serious. “You’re hurt” You point out.

“Yeah, no shit” Pest mumbled, “none of your business anyways” You slightly frown at his words.

“Well, now it is” You laid your light to the side and open your bag to grab a first aid kit. Pest wordlessly watches as you before you turn to face him again, determined look on your face.

“I don’t need your help you know” He continues to speak in a somewhat angry tone.

“Well, is anyone else going to help you then?” You sternly asked.

“I can deal with this later” Pest spat back.

“And risk a bacterial infection? Are you stupid?” You bluntly say, making Pest be taken slightly aback from the minor insult. “Look, I know you’re smart and a loner type of guy, but if nothing happens to that wound now, there is a high chance that cut will get worse.”

There was a brief pause that felt forever. Pest thinking in his head what to do now and how to react to your insistence of providing medical aid. Before any conclusion is drawn, you’re already getting closer and gesturing to him to expose the wound site so you can deal with it.

It’s clear at this point nothing will convince you to change your mind. So instead of wasting more time and energy on something fruitless, Pest hesitantly allows you to see his injury better. As suspected, nothing too serious, and thankfully nothing like stitching or beyond is needed. However, it was still a decent cut and hasn’t started to scab yet due to the said size.

“Okay, I’m going to need you to lift your clothes up a bit so I can get better access” You ask as you prepare the disinfectant. He grumbles angerly at this, however. “It’s either you do it or I do it, take your pick” This seems to make him move the clothing out of the way.

There was a lot of hissing and cursing as you made sure to clean the cut on him. You make sure to reassure him the stinging was the medicine working. Once that is done, you put the right size band aid on there, putting a bit of medical tape on as well to ensure it stays on.

A quick job once it was all over and you were putting your things away. Pest sat there, shirt and sweater pulled down again, thinking about this whole ordeal. Nothing was said for the most part.

“I’m not going to ask how this happened, I have a feeling you don’t want to talk about it” You look around before standing back up again with your light “Try staying safe, okay?” You walk back where you came from, leaving Pest alone with his thoughts in the dark.

The next day comes around, and you wake up from your sleep in your room. There's some cash on the bedside table that you don’t remember being there. The amount was the same as what was stolen from you on the elevator.

[radicalglobal]

Smart Sanitizing Tunnel Control Box is a Plug And Play with Ultrasonic Sensor. Parts included in Box: Smart control board with predefined overload protection circuit design with predefined sensor and pressure settings. The box can be easily open and change piping connection if you need, On/off switch, and led indicator for monitoring. Pressure pump power supply 24V Ultrasonic motion sensor 10M pipe, 5 no’s nozzle 4 type connector 1 L type connector.

[slimeypuppy]

Hello lovely author I came from ao3 and I'm in love with the latest Fight chapter you posted on Chess Games 😍 Will you be continuing that plot line at all I would loveeeee to see Kendall taking care of Stewy's wounds and caring for injured!Stewy while he gets better??!? Thank you for considering it the entire series is sooooo good!!!! 😘💗

"Heavy."

Kendall huffs a laugh as he helps Stewy to the bathroom. He learned his lesson about blood on the couch last time, so he'll get him cleaned up in the bathroom to avoid leaving an unnecessary mess for Stewy to fuss over. "I'll bet you're heavy," he replies. "That's the valium, babe."

"Don't like it."

He doesn't have a response to that. He probably shouldn't have given Stewy the drugs, but he was more panicked than he was hurt, and Kendall needed him to calm down before his accelerated heart rate pushed more blood out of his body. He's in a bad way. On the ride here, Kendall tried to catalog his injuries, but didn't make much progress discerning what blood was Stewy's and what wasn't, and he knew better than to try and peel away the layers of clothes without privacy. It's now, with Stewy propped up against the counter, that he can begin to strip away his clothes and assess the damage. His hearing seems to have mostly returned from the ringing he groggily complained over, and his only uncovered injury already is the bite a bullet took out of the shell of his ear. It'll be easy to stitch up, even if it leaves a less than cosmetic scar. 

With his shirt out of the way, Stewy's bared abdomen reveals a small hole, still drooling thick blood. Kendall feels around his back for an exit wound, but finds nothing. He grimaces with the realization he'll have to dig that bullet out. Still, he strips Stewy down to his boxers to ensure there's no other injuries to worry about. A couple bruises are blooming, but nothing too serious to contend with. Just the bullet wound and his ear. 

Kendall helps Stewy into the bath tub and fetches the emergency kit from under the sink, as well as the bottle of Norco in the cabinet. It's not his preferred, but it is Stewy's, and no matter how easily he hides pain, he'll still want something for it. Kendall brings the items over to the edge of the tub and sets them down. First item of business is to sterilize his hands. He uncaps the isopropyl and pours some over his hands, scrubbing them together until it's all evaporated before slipping on the blue nitrile gloves. With his own body, he wouldn't bother, but he knows how temperamental Stewy is and he's been lectured enough about cleanliness to take it seriously. Next he gets the tweezers, long and sharp enough that they're probably special ordered rather than purchased in a pharmacy. He braces one hand on Stewy's ribs, holding him still and balancing himself before he does this. 

"Stewy, babe, look at me."

Stewy's glassy eyes meet his. 

"Just breathe, okay?"

Before Stewy can respond, Kendall fits the tool into the wound and follows the tunnel of it until he feels them hit the bullet. Stewy whimpers, a pathetic and new sound that Kendall's never heard him make, his muscles tensing at the pain. He doesn't flinch or cry, though. He remains remarkably still as Kendall gets the ends of the tweezers around the bullet and carefully pulls it out, the metal slug shining with fresh blood. He drops it into the tub to get later. 

Next he threads one of the suture needles with surgical thread to begin to stitch the wound closed. He's smart enough not to pour disinfectant into a gunshot wound. It's small enough that a couple tight stitches are enough. He carefully smears antibiotic cream over the top and nods to himself before reaching for Stewy's ear. Once he rinses it with disinfectant, the injury is less severe. He's too scared to try stitching it, especially as it's probably not strictly necessary, so he makes do with a couple steri strips to hold the injury that more closely resembles a cut together. It's not a professional patch up, but it's good enough for him to discard his gloves and take a deep breath.

"You with me?" He asks. 

Stewy nods slowly. "Still here."

"Painkillers?"

"Yes. Please."

Kendall gives him one of the Norco tablets and turns on the tap to a light stream, just enough for him to cup his hands under and bring them to Stewy's face for a sip of water to help the pill go down. He stands up nudges the kit and used supplies to the side for Stewy to disinfect and put away when he's feeling better.

Next he gets a dark washcloth from the cabinet, one specifically for cleanups like this, and dampens it from the steady flow of the tap to clean away the lingering sweat and blood from Stewy's body. He hesitates when he reaches the waistband of his boxers, almost nervous to strip him fully, before scolding himself for the childishness. Stewy tries to help but his limbs are uncoordinated and Kendall winds up simply tearing the fabric to get it off of him. There's a tenderness to Kendall's motions that surprises even himself as he cleans Stewy up, meticulous in a way that he never is with himself, knowing the deep-seated hatred for any sort of lingering grime that Stewy has.

It's only when he goes to peel off Stewy's gloves that he's met with resistance. Even naked, drugged and injured, there's a note of panic to the way Stewy pulls back when Kendall tugs at them. 

"Baby, baby, hey," he soothes, holding one wrist firmly in his hand. "It's okay. They're not clean. Let me help?"

"Ken?"

His heart drops. "Yeah, it's me. It's Ken. I'm right here."

Stewy's eyes are unfocused but they still search for him.

"I don't- where…?"

"Home," Kendall says. "We're safe. I've got you. You're- you're scaring me, baby."

Stewy blinks. "Can't think. Heavy."

"I know. But I'm here. Let me take your gloves off? Then we can get you in some clean clothes and to bed."

It's almost worse that Stewy doesn't put up a fight when Kendall tries again to remove his gloves. He tosses them aside and gently washes Stewy's hands with the cloth, using the same care as every other part of his body. He's mostly dry everywhere else by the time Kendall is done, torso certainly enough so to make it possible to tape a square of gauze over his gunshot wound. 

"C'mon, up."

Kendall has to do most of the heavy lifting to get Stewy back to his feet, half-carrying him to the bedroom and depositing him on the edge of the mattress. He won't wrestle with much clothing right now, but knows Stewy will at least want sweatpants on. They're in the same place as always, folded neatly, and Kendall doesn't have to work too hard to get them onto Stewy's body. 

"Ken," Stewy says again. 

His hand reaches out, uncoordinated, before Kendall takes it and brings it to his face. His palm is warm and familiar against Kendall's face, the touch a reassurance for both of them.

"I'm here. I'm here, baby, I've got you."

[mediocre--writing]

this hc is sad but whenever neil gets too rough and billy’s injuries are too severe to heal on their own, neil will do his own version of “first aid” since he can’t risk a hospital. stuff like holding billy down while doing stitches, stuffing a belt in his mouth and telling him to shut up and stop crying like a pussy. maybe billy views it as a form of love in some warped way, all “he wouldn’t patch me up himself if he didn’t love me, right? he could have left me or had me do it myself but he didn’t” and he doesn’t realise for a long time how not OK it is until he either causally mentions it to someone or someone witnesses it and tells him how fucked up it is

the first time it happens is when neil yanks on billy’s arm when he tries to walk away. dislodges his shoulder from its socket.

billy is already crying and neil huffs like it’s some inconvenience. grabs two wash clothes from a kitchen drawer and tells billy to bite down.

has him lay on the floor and shoves his arm back in (it took three tries). billy swears that he’s never felt pain that bad.

neil goes to the corner store and grabs a cheap sling for billy, just so the shoulder heals right and doesn’t get overextended or anything.

billy’s grateful that neil cared to help him. even gave him ice packs to make sure it didn’t ache too bad.

billy was 11.

it gets worse after that, if you can believe it.

neils a mans man. he expects billy to be as well.

neil knows when a cut is just a scrape and when a cut needs stitches.

he’s neared the line many times, but it’s never reached the stitches level yet.

but it does now.

neil had shoved billy into a wall, right under a cross that was hanging there (can you sense the irony?) and the cross fell and slammed onto billy’s face.

didn’t break his nose or anything, but there’s a deep deep deep cut right by his eye.

there’s blood in his face, but what freaks out billy the most is that there’s blood in his eye, and he fears that’s where the edge of the cross hit him.

neil, again, grabs two wash clothes and tells billy to hush, grabbing an ice cube to ‘numb’ the area (though it does nothing) and sticks the needle into billy’s cheek.

once too scared to open his eyes, billy is now writhing away because there’s a needle in his face and neil looks way too calm to be doing this. shouldn’t a parent be worried?

but neil forces billy back where he was before, holding down on his arm. says something along the lines of “do you wanna bleed out? i’m trying to help you, boy.” and billy just waits it out.

he cries like a baby.

neil let’s him take the day off of school the next day. let’s billy lay with an ice pack on his swollen face and bruised eye for most of the day. even apologizes, in his own, twisted way.

billy was 13.

once, when billy’s being whipped with neils belt for whatever godforsaken reason neil pulled out of his ass, he hits the same spot too much.

then the belt buckle grabs the skin and pulls.

billy’s screaming in pain. can’t describe how unbearable it was to have the raw skin of his back yanked by a dull belt buckle.

but, it turns out, he needs stitches. not wasting a clean washcloth, neil just shoves the belt into billy’s mouth, going to grab the first aid kit.

billy is laying on his stomach, holding his hands in front of his face so he doesn’t lash out and he bites onto the belt as neil stitches the skin back.

but neil doesn’t reprimand billy for leaving teethmarks on his nice leather belt, so billy thinks it could have been worse.

billy was 15.

the first time susan has to witness one of their bad arguments, billy had snuck a boy into his room.

they weren’t even doing anything. barely even flirting. and they were alone.

billy leaned in, but so did the boy, and they met in the middle and billy felt like an inexperienced virgin while kissing his first boy.

it was a life altering experience.

on many levels.

neil comes home early. or maybe not, maybe billy wasn’t watching the clock. either way, billy’s got a boy in top of him, though fully clothed, but making out nonetheless, when neil slams in.

billy’s life flashes before his eyes that night.

he barely even remembers what neil did. what he said.

billy knows at one point he thought about how much he missed his mom. and, apparently, he said it out loud. spurring his dad on with maximum fury.

it was past 3am when billy woke up from his unconscious state to unbearable pain. neil was stitching him up, had already done so on his face and neck. had moved on to his leg (a line of stitches worked all the way up the back of his calf).

billy could feel the bruising on his torso (from numerous kicks and pushes that rolled him into furniture and walls) and around the crown of his head (the result of a plate being smashed over his head).

he didn’t move. he didn’t have the energy.

but he could hear susan. she was yelling at neil, whispering, but scolding him.

“the hell is wrong with you!? he could have died? this is too far, neil, he’s your son! you should love hi—“

“i’m doing this because i love him, su, you know that! you want a faggot in this house? huh? no, you don’t! and do you really think i’d let my son bleed out on the floor? you think that little of me?”

and billy gets it. gets his dads side. because neil could just leave him to bleed all over the carpet. but he didn’t. he helped.

he had good intentions and only did what was best for billy. who was billy to say what his life should be when he wasn’t even smart enough to learn from his mistakes?

that was the reason for their move to hawkins.

billy, during their first week there, didn’t attend school on behalf of all the still healing stitches and bruises, though he was spotted around town a time or two (already instilling his bad reputation)

and once he gets there rumors fly around the school.

apparently, billy had to move from cali because he beat up a biker gang and they kicked him out of the state.

but, then, the night happens. the one where billy beats up steve and comes out looking pretty clean.

hopper drives his half unconscious body home, along with max, so he can ‘explain the situation.’

that night, for many reasons, is a night max will never forget. ever.

she’s seen demo dogs and tunnels from other dimensions, a possessed kid, and a girl who can move things with her mind.

but she also got her first taste of what it looks like when billy gets beat by his father.

it’s like a car crash, you know you should look away, but you just can’t.

and billy, still drowsy from the sedative, is getting in thrown around the living room and kitchen like a rag doll, being shoved into shelves and cabinets, even dislocated his left elbow and there was a loud crack from billy’s ankle.

and, though she’d wanted billy dead mere hours before, this seemed more torturous.

at least when it was billy and steve, they were both conscious. this was just twisted.

neil, for whatever strange reason his mind came up with, made max and susan watch the lesson: this is what happens when you don’t follow rules.

max could barely make out the rising and falling of billy’s chest at the end.

there was blood splattered on billy’s chest and neck, on his jeans and in his hair, on neils hands.

“grab me the first aid kit and a towel, su,” she scurried to the bathroom and back and max wanted to bolt. run. sprint. just get away from whatever was happening.

neil bent down and used the towel to press down on billy’s bleeding wounds, stopping the blood flow. he then disinfected and wrapped what he could, bandaged everything else.

then he rolled billy on his side, grabbed his forearm and upper arm then snapped them together, fixing the dislocation with practiced ease.

this was also when billy woke up. screaming.

“hush,” is was quiet, but stern, and billy knew to listen.

the towel, one side inked in blood splatters, had the other side shoved into billy’s mouth before neil got out the needle and thread, stitching billy’s larger wounds.

if max thought the most scarring part of her night was going to be anything that happened before this, she was wrong.

she knew. she knew that billy got smacked around sometimes. and he kinda deserved it. he was a jackass.

but this. this was a whole new thing. this was downright madness and max didn’t think she’d ever be able to sleep peacefully in her own bed again.

the tears were rolling down her face when she made eye contact with billy, who had equally red and teary eyes, but his held more pain. more suffering. more knowledge.

“see what you did? you made your sister cry,” neil told billy as he pulled especially hard on a stitch on billy’s tender stomach, making billy scream in agony, in more pain than before.

after that night, max listens to billy more. blames herself for being out and getting billy into trouble.

billy is just glad he was able to find the old sling he had years ago and that it still fit. he’s grateful that his dad stitched him up and made sure nothing would get infected.

knew he should have kept a closer eye on max and this is what needed to happen for him to see that. he knew that now.

a week later, the boys were talking about how some guy named (ronnie? maybe lonnie?) had called the byers asking about will. they talked about how joyce chased him out of the house with his own shotgun.

will told her, when they were leaving lunch, that joyce was so mad because lonnie, his dad, had hit his bother, jonathan.

max thinks about that. thinks about how susan would never, not in a million years, chase neil off with his shotgun for hitting billy.

she stood and watched when neil almost killed billy.

she didn’t know what to think. she wondered if billy knew what was happening wasn’t right. wondered if he’d ever tried to run away or was too scared of getting found if he did.

wondered if there was any scenario in which billy would take her harsh criticism of his dad well.

and it takes years.

billy moves out for college, somewhere good where he can focus on being smart, like he’s always been, and gets out from under neils thumb.

he discovers who he is a little better and still comes to hawkins every holiday and break, gets closer with jonathan and steve and robin and even nancy.

the first person he tells about it is jonathan. he hears the lonnie stories for himself and chimes in with his own anecdote. apparently, it’s not as light hearted as jonathan���s.

but he opens up. it takes the night and a little alcohol and weed, but billy has successfully told jonathan everything his dad has done to him. every stitch and relocation.

jonathan tells nancy and nancy tells steve. steve coddles billy and (because they were already close and in that ‘talking stage’) eventually gets some of the truth out.

jonathan, even though he told people, never exposed everything. there’s some things steve will never know about because they’re just too much and billy found comfort and a commonality in jon that he didn’t know he needed.

(joyce would also totally from that point on have adopted billy, doesn’t matter if he’s already like 22, he’s now her child)

[softfeelingsandangstywriting]

Whumptober: All Trussed Up And Still Nowhere To Go

It was supposed to be a simple patrol, a little investigation. They had suspected this group of being corrupt, or maybe doing some black market trade. It was supposed to be fine. Instead, they were running for their lives, lurching past closing walls and doors in a desperate attempt to get to the roof. At least up there, they would have a fighting chance, without humans chasing them down, taking shortcuts that they didn't know of, routes that could have saved them so much time and possibly even have allowed them to avoid this whole situation.

Michelangelo, in front, slammed the roof access door open, and they all flooded out after him. There was no time to close doors, no time to be quiet, they had to go right then. As they kept running, Leonardo glanced behind, no humans followed them up, but that didn’t mean that there weren’t more following from the ground.

Stupid multi-building complex. It limited their ability to get out fast, and meant a bigger chance of being seen by the people who owned it or worked at it.

Alarms started up, and bright spotlights were turned on and shoot, they weren’t going to make it out, were they? He caught the look Raphael sent him, and he couldn’t exactly read it, but he had a good enough idea of what his brother was trying to get across to him. Past that, Donatello and Michelangelo shared a glance and they both looked terrified. They were all scared, he knew that, he could feel the distant terror himself, but letting it take over meant capture.

It meant death.

All he could do was keep up at the rear and make sure everyone was alright in the moment because at the very least, they knew a path out once on the rooftop.

...Dang it, he was right. There were people at the bottom of the buildings, dressed in black, bulletproof equipment and holding guns. If you squinted, more specifically, dart guns.

Oh, so they were aiming for- OH-

They were aiming for capture.

“GUYS!” Leonardo shouted over the wind and the alarms, getting their attention, “Watch out for the guns!”

There was a flash of terror in the youngest’s eyes as he glanced at Leonardo and Donatello looked down, the crease between his eye ridges deepening. Raphael only nodded, never looking back.

And then, all of a sudden, there was a dart in his neck and his vision was blurring. It started on the outside, barely noticeable, and then it intensified, pushed further in and gave him tunnel vision. Of course he ripped it out immediately, he wasn’t stupid.

But he wasn’t fast enough, the drug had entered his system and it was taking its toll. He was aware of the fact that he was lagging behind, after all, with his limited vision, he could see that they were getting ahead. He could see it, but he was tired, he was so, so tired. It felt like he could lay down and sleep forever, but in the recesses of his mind, he knew he had to stay awake. Just a little longer, just a little longer. There was a jump coming up, he had to make it, he couldn’t not.

It was… It was a lot bigger than he anticipated, he realized as they came up closer. They didn’t usually make jumps that big in a night. Not only that, but they would be jumping over barbed wire to get to the other building outside the complex. If one of them didn’t make it and fell? They’d be feeling that for weeks, assuming they weren’t taken because of the slip up. His worries could only grow.

I’m not going to make it, he realized bitterly. That was just a truth he would have to accept. He was not going to make it. They’d have to leave him.

He could only pray they were smart enough to realize that.

Michelangelo went first, doing a little aerial spin to show off while mid-air. Made it.

Donatello was second, more wary of the size of the gap, but still jumping when he believed the timing was right. Made it.

Raphael went next. He jumped just a tad too early and ended up skittering at the edge, but he made it.

It was Leonardo’s turn next, and he was dreading it. Why even try when he knew he was going to fall? He was dizzy and tired, everything was moving in slow motion and he could barely hear the alarms, but he was aware enough to realize that Raphael had paused to wait, realizing the eldest had fallen behind.

Idiot.

He knew he would fall, but Leo jumped anyway.

He jumped just a tad too early, misjudging the distance.

He skittered at the edge.

He did not make it.

Raphael had only stayed about a foot away from the edge, off to the side, and lurched forward, grabbing Leonardo by the wrist and grunting from the effort it took to keep him up.

“Gods- Fearless, how much have you been eating-?”

He took a second to take in Leonardo’s appearance. The moment it clicked was clear, and Leonardo felt sick.

“Oh,” the hot-head whispered, then turned and yelled for Donatello, resident doctor. He realized he wasn’t going to be able to do it alone. Their shells were heavy, Leonardo knew from experience from holding his brothers up.

Donatello screamed something back over the alarms, but Leonardo heard a gun reload and he didn’t want his brothers there anymore. Still, Raphael lingered, clinging on desperately. Donatello argued with Michelangelo in the background, screamed at him to leave. There were people coming out of buildings and police blocks and if his brothers didn’t leave soon, they'd all be goners.

“Hey, idiot,” Raphael has to yell, “Stay awake, alright? You ain’t dyin’ here. Stay with me. You can’t die here.”

The last part felt more desperate, and he could feel the shake in Raphael’s hands. Leonardo wanted to say something, wanted to reassure him or to pull himself up, but his tongue felt heavy as he struggled to speak, to say what he needed. Somewhere, in the back of his brain, hidden in the depths of the fog, he knew that in the end, Raphael would not be strong enough to hold him when he passed out. Donatello would not be fast enough to assist the hothead.

He was going to fall, and he knew it, even when he couldn't form coherent thoughts, even when he was fighting to stay awake.

Finally, Leonardo realized what he needed to say before he could leave them behind. It had to be fast, though, so he could get the message across quickly.

“I love you,” he choked out, vision darkening as he fought desperately to stay away, “I love you, I love you-”

The eldest was slipping. They were heavy, Raphael could not do it alone, he was slipping.

Donatello, in the back, finally sent Michelangelo away, then turned and raced towards them. Leonardo had fallen before he ever managed to get near, he heard the hot-head scream, but he didn’t ever remember letting go.

There were more humans coming, there were people with guns, Donatello had to grab Raphael’s shoulder and tear him away.

In the last moment he was awake, he remembered being faintly proud of them.

Leonardo was out long before he ever hit the ground.

%%%

The blue-clad turtle woke slowly. Sleep tugged at his mind and tried to convince him to return, but he knew he couldn’t. Something was wrong, something was wrong but what was-?

Oh.

Oh right.

As he became more aware, he realized that his arms and sides burned from scrapes and cuts. He must have fallen onto the barbed wire. He couldn’t see anything, but from the smell of disinfectant and other various chemicals, he knew that it was at the very least clean. But, with a little more movement and a sudden protest from sore muscles and damaged scales, he realized he was tied up.

Really tight, at that. Behind him, his arms and wrists were held together, legs bound at the knee and ankle, and his arms actually tied to his torso. It didn’t take long to realize he had been like that for a while, from how badly he was hurting in those areas. Did they really need to truss him up? At least it was quiet. It allowed him to think, with nothing other than the soft whir of machinery and the hum of fluorescent lights in other places that reminded him of Donatello’s lab.

There was nothing to do, the restraints could not be broken, and there was still a fuzzy feeling in his head. Maybe he could go back to sleep?

As he reconsidered and silently scolded himself for giving up, a door opened up, letting a blinding bright light into the room. Somebody walked in, and, as a reminder that he couldn’t hurt them, two armed men (men? Maybe women, he didn’t know) stood at the doorway.

So that’s the kind of place it was, huh? Dang it.

He writhed and wiggled even though he knew the binds were so tight they might as well be tourniquets, and he couldn't escape them. He hissed and snapped when he was lifted up by the edge of his shell and dragged along to a gurney where the binds were taken off so that he can quickly be tied down to the bed and secured more efficiently. His mind was so foggy from the leftover drug that he couldn't even fight it, just hiss and make that intimidating growl that alligators make to try and dissuade them from messing with him. The scientist(? Guard? Keeper?) was phased only for a second, then pushed the gurney along. The real guards, however, were not at all phased, they only hiss back.

Leonardo could only wonder where they were taking him. If the thick scent of chemicals in the air was any indicator, he would presume it was some kind of lab.

When they come to a stop, he realizes that the room they were in had quite a bit of medical equipment in it and-

Oh, that was a CT scan. Of course.

He began to regret everything, because really, there was no better time to be worrying than right at that moment. They move him from spot to spot, making sure he didn’t wriggle to his freedom or accidentally get hurt while they did… Whatever they were doing. The scribble of a pen on paper, and various clicks and beeps were his sign that they were actually gathering some kind of results from their tests. And then, the unarmed person put on gloves, and began to try and force his mouth open, and Leonardo presumed it was for a cheek swab. He growled, loud and clear, then suddenly forced his jaws back closed onto their hand, biting hard enough to draw blood. They yelped and pulled their hand back, and oh man that was a gun at his head.

His breathing hitched and he was afraid, but the unarmed human said not to shoot. He was new and prized, they wanted him alive. The next time, the guards forced his mouth open and he growled and spit while the scientist got the cheek swap. There was a scale sample taken afterwards, and a blood sample after that. When they were all done, he was taken back to the room, trussed up again, and left alone.

Or-

Maybe this was a different room? There was a camera in this one. Or maybe there was a camera in the last one (or the same one) and he didn't notice.

…

Even so, now that the drugs were fully wearing off, he was afraid. They were leaving him alone in an empty room, with no idea what was going to happen and he was scared, dang it. The cuts were stinging and he was sore, he had no idea how long he had been bound for. There were humans who knew of their existence, and he prayed to whatever deity was listening that his brothers were okay, that they left after he fell before they could be spotted by even more people or captured.

Oh wait, when was his last tetanus shot? Was the wire rusty? Shoot.

But, then again, maybe he already got one. They did want him alive, after all.

He struggled with the restraints for a bit, but gave up rather quickly, realizing nothing was going to happen.

The second ticked by like minutes. He wasn’t entirely sure how long it was until the door opened up again, but he did know that it was a different person. Still, there were two guards again. He was dragged out and tied to the gurney again, but this time there was another drug, a needle pushed into the side of his neck and he was immediately groggy. There was a thick fog in his mind, he couldn’t think and could barely move, muscles relaxed, forced to be calm on his way there, could barely see anything with the way his vision blurred, first at the edges, then quickly moving in until it was all blurry.

Separate rooms and bright, fluorescent lights faded away until he was in a darker part of the building, more sounds of animals to be heard, but not ones he had ever heard before. Guttural grunts, violent screams, and long howls melded together into the perfect mix for a skull-shattering migraine. What, was this some kind of messed up zoo?

Eventually, he was brought into a smaller room, carefully untied and plopped in. It was darker and smaller but the floor was a heck of a lot softer and oh, they thought he was a normal animal. Guess his magician's trick was working.

Extra large turtle to be shown to people and private collectors, coming right up, he presumed. Well, if he was already viewed as an animal, might as well keep that ruse up. Things would definitely get worse if they realized he was actually intelligent.

%%%

Was he gone for hours? Days? Weeks? Honestly, he didn’t know, nor did he want to.

However, over the next period of time, they were trying more and more foods. At least they didn’t want him to starve?

At first, they tried insects, trying to follow some kind of turtle’s diet, he guessed. But, at first, he had standards, and did not want the insects.

The next time they tried (he thought they tried after a few days), they brought various fruits. Still, he did not eat, even if it was just to spite them when they realized that their new pet wasn’t going to eat.

They tried some raw meat after, trying to toss it closer to him to see if they could provoke him into taking it. But, he had starved himself, and the smell only made his stomach roll, and yes, he was sick all over their (not so) nice floor.

At last, they tried some small fishes, this time giving him distance. Still, he wouldn’t touch it. They had to break eventually, right? He knew this method, knew from personal experience with other animals that it worked.

But the caretakers did not give. They only struggled, getting worried, not knowing how long he wouldn’t eat for and concerned that stress will make him starve, but he definitely had enough energy to bite them when they tried to get close.

Eventually, they came around and tried fruit again, hoping that it would spark some interest with something soft and sweet.

And, as ashamed as he was about it, Leonardo gave, devoured it like a wolf. If he planned on getting out, then he needed the energy and strength.

After regaining some of his energy, and realizing that he was free to move around, he began to pace around the room, never leaving the all-fours position in case they were watching, and trying to find some kind of weak point he could use for his escape.

Sleep, eat, drink, look for weak points, repeat. Over and over, no change in the routine, until.

Until they opened the door one day, a metal cage that felt too small just looking at it pushed up against the doorway. There were two guards, per usual, behind it, and a keeper stepping over the cage to get to him.

And holy crap, they were strong.

Despite his screams like a child denied a piece of candy, they wrestled him down and strapped a muzzle over his face to keep him from taking off somebody’s hand, then clipped a collar around his neck, a lead attached to it to try and drag him along. As soon as they stood up, though, believing that he would be calm after being restrained, he made a mad dash straight at the crate, dragging them along behind him, and jumped over it. Their grip loosened on the leash, and he was more than satisfied to hear them cry out as they crumpled behind him.

How did he forget about the guards there, though? He didn’t know. In his desperate attempt to get free, he had forgotten about the people standing there to prevent escape.

One wrapped their arms around his torso and forced him down, restraining flailing limbs and dragging him backwards while trying not to have something slammed into them. The other held the cage in place for them while the first wrestled him into it.

While he made as much noise as possible to very clearly represent his disappointment in them and threw himself against the bars, truly throwing himself into the “feral animal” role, they tried not to drop him while bringing him elsewhere.

The next room he was in was as dim as the last and dead silent. It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop without even trying, and that fact was almost disconcerting. There should have been some kind of sound. The whir of light or machinery, other people, other creatures, but there was just… Nothing.

Leonardo made the mistake of hesitating to try and hear anything, right before they set him down rather roughly, rough enough to send him tumbling onto his side and for the keeper to scold the other two for pretty much dropping him. Before he could get up, a needle was pushed into his neck again, and it didn't take much to realize that this drug worked much faster than the other two.

He was half-asleep within seconds, and before he could try to tell himself to stay aware, he was completely out.

[sterilizercabinet]

Disinfection cabinet

Things To Consider When Purchasing A Disinfectant Cabinet

With the steady rise in covid cases, preventive measures like wearing marks and keeping distance have become immensely popular. Disinfection products of various types have also become hugely popular among ordinary people. Businesses are coming out with innovative devices like a disinfection cabinet to prevent this infectious disease. Covid infection can quickly spread through the digestive tract and cause severe health issues. Owners of commercial buildings with desperate to purchase and install one at their location. The sales volume of disinfecting cabinets shot up dramatically

Sanitization versus disinfection

The primary purpose of a disinfection cabinet is to sterilize, clean, and Store tableware. Hence it is essential to know about the disinfection and sterilization effects. Some devices use different ultraviolet intensity, sterilization temperatures, ozone concentration, and other factors.

Energy saving

Different materials structures and processes are used in the disinfection to obtain the effects of high-temperature disinfection. Certain materials are known to affect the thermal insulation of the disinfection tunnel does affect the heating time. It also has an impact on the amount of energy consumption. Consumers should choose disinfection tunnels as per their requirements.

UV sterilizer cabinet are excellent for domestic purposes. They serve as a perfect tool to keep belongings free from harmful viruses. If you are in the market looking for disinfecting tunnel or cabinet, visit www.legia.com. They are one of the leading manufacturers of disinfecting cabinets.

About Legia Smart:

Legia Smart holds the pride of being an expert in UV Disinfection Box manufacturing. Good quality and at affordable prices , disinfection cabinets sterilizer wholesale. Chinese disinfecting cabinets manufacturer, OEM, ODM available.Focus on sterilization and disinfection for more than 20 years.Our site is www.legia.com.cn and welcome to visit us.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Cherry Wine

TW: Self harm

-----------------

Bessie was angry very often. Sometimes for no reason. She couldn’t explain the rage she sometimes felt- it just existed and burned and blistered all the way through her.

But sometimes the fury would often be blown out like a candle, leaving her cold with only sorrow in its absence. A tidal wave of misery crashes over her and suddenly she’s floundering around in black waters, desperate to stay afloat. Her hands grab for anything to anchor onto, but the riptide seizes her in its grasp and she’s yanked down, down, down, until her back is scraped against jagged coral reefs. Red mist hazes the diminishing light from above, but it wasn’t coming from her wounded spine.

Bessie likes to think she was smart. She always kept her wrists clean. Her stomach and thighs on the other hand...well, they were not a pretty sight to say the least. With summer coming up soon, she had to either get ready to swim in a t-shirt and shorts or get over this habit. The latter didn’t seem too likely.

Thank god she was asexual, though. And that Anna accepted that and never pushed anything because her cover would be blown the moment she took off her pants.

Her stomach and thighs were easy to hide thanks to the wonderful invention called clothing, but that had a downside, too. For starters, a lot of the frayed edges would get caught on the cloth and rub in a very uncomfortable way. Her torso and legs would also burn like they were on fire for half of the day after, but she would usually get over it by the time the show started. And she was SUPPOSED to clean the cuts after she finished, but, well...

Well, it’s a wonder she hasn’t gotten infected yet.

An itch ripples across Bessie’s body and she went rigid. Her skin prickled in a way that she couldn’t satiate with her fingernails. Bugs were crawling underneath her flesh and she HAD TO GET THEM OUT.

Her eyes popped open. The sensation of army ants marching across her muscles came so suddenly. The scalding rain from the shower she was taking was failing at scraping her raw. The steaming bullets couldn’t tunnel deep enough to soothe the infestation and the colony continued to swarm throughout her limbs.

Fingernails curl into bare, scarred thighs. Bessie hunched over from where she was sitting and tried to calm herself down. The scratchiness would go away if she just waited it out. Just resist the urge.

But she couldn’t, she couldn’t, she couldn’t.

Bessie turned the heat up and pulled her knees in close. She tangles her hands in her hair and hoped that the hot shower would be enough for her. Her skin burns, but the bugs continue to crawl. This isn’t working. She can’t flush them out.

The spigot sputters to a halt and Bessie stumbles out of the shower. The amount of steam gathered in the bathroom practically suffocates her. She coughs.

Bessie was sent reeling across her room after pulling her clothes on, desperately scrambling to grab the box cutter she hid beneath the mattress. With a click, the blade retracts and she finds herself hesitating for a moment.

Did she really want to do this? She’s been clean for two weeks. That’s really good for her, especially with her current depression spiral. She didn’t have to do this. She could put the blade down. She could ask for help. She could get a hug. She could call Anna. She could-

She could cut.

Bessie didn’t want to look at her ugly thighs and ugly stomach, so she rolls her sleeve up and brings the blade down on her shoulder, slicing open a new tally. The relief that washed over her had her shuddering in blissful agony, choking on a sob as she cut again. And again. And again.

On the inside, she was screaming. Her brain was commanding her, even though her body didn’t want to bring itself anymore harm. She couldn’t stop herself even if she wanted to.

Bessie was seriously uncoordinated during moments like this. Her shaking hands slipped up and accidentally cut into one of the older scars, breaking it back open and spilling more blood down her arm. She yowled and threw the box cutter at the wall, clutching desperately at her throbbing shoulder. She sunk to her knees, stinging tears rolling down her cheeks. Too focused on the pain and hot blood pouring over her hand, she couldn’t even register if she heard footsteps coming to her bedroom.

Aragon suddenly swung the door open, halting mid-sentence when she saw the bassist on her hands and knees, bleeding heavily from an injury she was white-knuckling. She froze and so did Bessie, and they stared at each like deer caught in headlights. Neither dared to move for a good thirty seconds, but it was the queen who snapped out of it first.

“Elizabeth!!”

Bessie attempted to evade her, but the moment she put pressure on her arm to try and scuttle away, she nearly had herself howling again. She couldn’t move and felt completely helpless in that moment.

“Elizabeth,” Aragon called out, crouching down to the girl’s side, “Bessie. Open your hand, please. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Bessie was deaf to her words. She’s relishing in the pain, weeping softly as her consciousness wavers in and out of her mind. Her nails curl into her shoulder and she sobs again.

Fingers touch her own and she flinches back, digging her nails deeper against her arm. She thought her grip was of iron, but her hand is slowly pried loose and she gasps for air. Bright red glistens on her palms. There’s too much. It wasn’t an accidental scratch like Aragon was expecting.

The queen stares in shock at the vicious scars striped across the bassist’s shoulder. Some were whited out already, others were scabbed over, a few were fresh, like the one with crimson bubbles simmering on the edges. Oh how she wished this wasn’t what it was. Maybe one of the cats was just very symmetrical? No, no. Improbable, at best.

“Oh my god, Elizabeth...” Aragon murmured. Hearing her use the Lord’s name in vain meant she really was shocked. “Here, I’ll- I’ll be right back.”

Bessie didn’t have the energy to respond. She’s swaying in her spot on the floor, watching a fleeting figure hurry out of her bedroom. Aragon was probably going to go through the bathroom, but she wasn’t able to stop her. Her eyes start to close and she puts one hand on the floor to attempt to support herself.

Aragon came back with the first-aid kit that was kept in the bathroom cabinets. Lucky find. Bessie was just going to let herself bleed until a clot formed.

“Elizabeth, can you hear me? Nod to me if you can.” Bessie did as she was asked, unable to speak. “That’s good, honey, that’s very good.”

Bessie sniffled and tilted her head down. There were multiple trails of sweet red venom dribbling lazily down her arm, and Aragon is working to wipe off the blood with a cloth. Did she really cut that much or did she hit a blood vessel?

“This is going to sting a little.”

The girl hissed and arched her spine when an antiseptic-soaked gauze is pressed to her arm. She convulses and whimpered, swatting at Aragon’s hand, but isn’t able to stop the disinfectant from flushing out her wounds. After a moment, she finds clarity in the pain and almost enjoys it.

The silence is tense. Aragon is focused on stopping the bleeding and Bessie is still out of it. Her hands quake with tremors and she paws helplessly at her carpet, which has been ruined. She was so busy being dismayed over the stains that she didn’t even feel the thumb brushing away her tears.

“Elizabeth, would you like if I called Anna?” Aragon asked gently, “Would she make you feel better?”

“N-no!”

Aragon pulled back a little and furrowed her eyebrows. She had expected the girl to agree to the idea, not decline.

“N-no,” Bessie repeated, this time softer, “Sh-she can’t know. Anna can’t know.”

Her trembling gets worse, breathing picking up. A panic attack rises in her chest and she chokes on a sob. Aragon’s eyes widen in realization and she’s quick to pull Bessie into a hug, soothingly rubbing her hand up and down her spine.

“A-A-Anna c-can’t-” Bessie coughs, “She’ll be mad. She’ll leave. She’ll leave me. I can’t- I can’t lose her, Catalina. I can’t!”

The girl yowls and whimpers and frets in Aragon’s arms, crying against her shoulder. That feeling of bugs crawling beneath her skin returns and she reaches to scratch at the cuts that had finally stopped bleeding. A hand grabs her wrist before contact could be made.

“You’re not going to hurt yourself again.” Aragon said firmly. “Just breathe, mija. Can you do that for me?”

Bessie had practiced breathing, told her girls to do it so many times, so why is it so difficult for her? Maybe because she wasn’t used to someone being with her, helping her through the panic attack. Or maybe because she was caught cutting and the shock was making her brain stop working.

She shudders and grips tightly to the back of Aragon’s shirt. Her mind is reeling and so many horrible thoughts whip around in her head. Maybe she if she just waited until Aragon left then could she continue.

But is that what she wanted?

Yes. It had to be. It’s the only thing that would make her feel better.

“Can you stand?” Aragon asked softly, “Your bed is probably a lot more comfortable than the floor.”

Bessie agreed, as the carpet was starting to get scratchy, but she didn’t trust herself that much. Still, she tried to get to her feet, but dizziness cracked against her skull like a sledgehammer and she nearly toppled back over if it wasn’t for Aragon steadying her. A newborn foal would have better balance than she did.

She felt utterly pathetic. Aragon had to help her walk a few steps to her bed because she would collapse if she tried to by herself. Now that the queen was dragged into her problems, she didn’t want her to leave. Especially since she’s seen her like this.

Aragon was surprised when Bessie turtles against her, gripping desperately for her sleeve or something to hold onto. Her hands hovered for a moment before rubbing against the girl’s back.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She felt Bessie shrink up, like a scared hedgehog brandishing its quills. She screwed her eyes shut and exhaled shakily, finally speaking up in a hoarse voice.

“I’m sorry.” She croaked.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, my darling,” Aragon said gently, brushing back some of the girl’s hair.

Bessie grimaced and pulled her head back with a jerked motion. Her eyes glanced up momentarily before going back down to her bed sheets.

“Yes, yes there is.” She said, “It’s unfair to you. You-you didn’t come here to deal with my bullshit. You came here to eat dinner and th-this-” She gestures for her reddened shoulder, “shouldn’t have been what you saw. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“No. Don’t you dare apologize, Elizabeth.” Aragon said and Bessie has never heard so much firmness in her voice before.

“But-”

“But nothing.” Aragon cut her off, “Elizabeth, being here is all I can do for you and, trust me, I wish I could do so much more than that.”

Bessie stared at her in disbelief. She didn’t understand why Aragon was being so nice to her, even though they had settled the past months ago, but the kindness was overwhelming and so, so needed.

The girl curls her fingers into her sheets, inhaling shakily and trying not to start crying all over again.

“You don’t think I’m a freak?” She asked softly.

Aragon squeezed Bessie’s forearms, coaxing her to look up and make eye contact.

“Not at all.”

The tears spilled over again and Bessie pressed her face against Aragon’s chest, muttering “thank you” over and over again. A gentle hand rubs circles against her back, soothing her until she could calm herself down.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to call Anna?”

“I-I’m sure,” Bessie sniffled, rubbing her wrist against her eyes, “She can’t know about this. I told her I stopped..”

Aragon frowned deeply.

“But you didn’t.”

Shame burned across Bessie’s face and she nodded slightly. She tucked her head under Aragon’s chin, nuzzling closer like a cold kitten searching for warmth.

“Please don’t tell her. I-I will. Eventually. Just-just not right now. I’m not ready yet.”

In reality, she probably wasn’t ever going to tell Anna if she didn’t have to. She could just keep up her facade of her skin being clean of cuts. No unnecessary drama had to happen.

“Alright. It’s your choice.” Aragon said respectfully.

Bessie looked down at her floor while yanking her sleeve back over the fresh injuries. She heard Aragon make a disgruntled noise from above.

“You don’t wrap them?”

“No,” Bessie shrugged a little. “Nothing has happened yet. I’m more worried about my floor.”

There were drizzles of red dotting the shaggy grey circle carpet, making Bessie grimace. She might be able to play it off as paint, but that would still make her girls worry.

“Hydrogen peroxide dissolves blood, ri- ow!!”

Aragon scrambled up to her feet when Bessie clutched at her shoulder while attempting to stand. She hissed a wheezing breath between her teeth and pulled her hand away.

“Easy, mija, easy.” Aragon said like a worried mother would.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Bessie said quickly, “Just the after effect. It always burns like this. You’d think I would get used to it.”

She stretches her arm a bit and winced, but shook off the stinging sensation spreading through her skin. Her cells were having an aneurysm from this aching feeling.

“But it is hydrogen peroxide, yeah? I wonder if we have any.”

“Maybe you should sit down.” Aragon offered, “Let me.”

“You already had to deal with my weeping into your chest,” Bessie pointed out while pulling her phone from her pocket, “Siri, how do you clean blood out of carpet?”

She paused for a moment.

“She recommended a cleaning company but I’m just gonna use WikiHow.”

“Do you always act this relaxed after...?”

Bessie rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly, looking over at Aragon, who still looks worried.

“Yeah, kinda.” She admitted, “That’s when I dissociate. Everything feels lucid and less stressful. And numb. It’s kinda nice.”

Aragon didn’t feel safe letting Bessie wander around grabbing cleaning chemicals by herself, so she went with her. Mainly because she was seriously worried about the girl downing an entire bottle of dish soap.

“How long have you been doing this?”

Bessie froze mid-scrub. Slowly, she raised her head to meet Aragon’s gaze.

“I, umm... Two weeks after we got reincarnated?” Bessie said meekly, “So about a year and a half now... Usually I do it on my stomach or thighs,” She sees Aragon glance momentarily at those two locations, “It wasn’t that bad back then, though. Things have just gotten worse, and...” She sighed, “So did I.”

Aragon moved from her spot to kneel down next to her. A hand is placed against her back.

“Are you going to be okay?” She asked in a softer voice.

“I think so.” Bessie answered, “I can’t- I can’t promise that I’ll stop. I don’t know if I can. But I’ll try. I want to get better, I just-”

She swallowed the painful lump in her throat.

“It’s hard.”

“I understand,” Aragon murmured, “Just remember that there are people you can talk to. Anna, for example. I’m here, too. I won’t try to act like I always know what I’m doing, but I’m here, if you need me.”

Bessie leaned against Aragon, fighting off tears once again. She sucked in a shaky breath and smiled wryly at her.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Aragon says, leaning over to kiss the top of Bessie’s wet hair. “Can you promise me something, though?”

Bessie looked up at her. Her eyes look so young, so hurt...just like they used to. Aragon couldn’t resist another kiss, which she places against the bassist’s forehead.

“Come to me. Please. Next time you want to cut, come to me. Call me, text me- just please reach out to me. We’ll go do something. We can watch a movie or I’ll just hold you like I used to, just please,” She grabs Bessie’s forearms and blinks back a haze of tears. “Please, baby girl, please come to me.”

Bessie’s eyes started to water all over again. She nodded with a strangled whimper and fell into Aragon’s loving arms, which held her so tightly.

“I love you so much, Elizabeth,” Aragon whispered. She’s crying, now, but her voice stays stable and strong. “More than life itself. You’re my beautiful daughter, and I hate seeing you like this.”

Being referred to as the queen’s daughter made a sob bubble to Bessie’s lips. She clung tighter.

“I-I love you, too....”

[triburbindia]

Our Sanitization tunnels are built for small, medium large entities.  It works on sensor based technology and contains sanitizer nozzle sprayer for spraying the liquid. You don’t need a person to monitor the sanitization. As the COVID is increases the airborne transmission possibility, our tunnel helps in disinfecting your body from external surfaces.

[lovelylanden]

Hitman

Where Elliot is a hitman and gets himself into a sticky situation. 

Note: This was a lot of fun to write !! I wish the Mr. Robot fandom wasn’t so small. The show is very underrated when it reality it’s woke as hell and deserves more recognition. Plus Rami is in it, of course. That’s always a plus. Much love and enjoy x 

Word count: 2.8k

---

Mud soaked through the dark canvas of his shoes and Elliot grits his teeth but keeps moving, hood masking his sharp features, the tension of his jaw and redness rimming his eyes. The gun felt heavy on his belt, easily concealed as he treks forward, faster now but still several paces behind his target, close enough to keep him in view but far enough away not to attract attention. Killing Terry Colby would be easy. Being the CTO at E-Corp meant his ego was bloated, he knew that he was important, blinded by the fact but unaware that he had a target on his back. 

If Elliot managed to kill Colby--which he knew with great confidence that he would--he would get paid handsomely. This wasn’t his first time working for Tyrell Wellick and knew the man would hold up his end of the deal. He had a lot to lose; a wife and child, his reputation, all of which Elliot could destroy without as much as a second thought. Elliot had made sure Tyrell was aware of this; if Tyrell tried any funny business at all, Elliot would expose him, would make it impossible for him to recover. 

The air was cold as it bit at his skin but Elliot blocks out the numbness of his face, the stiffness of his fingers. The sun wouldn’t rise for hours yet and the fact that Colby was combing the empty streets of New York alone was an unexpected treat. It would without a doubt make his job easier. Elliot picks up his pace, sliding slightly on the mud that had begun to congeal with the chilling autumn weather. It was on the cusp of winter now, stuck in the sort of in between that Elliot despised. 

Terry continues at a slow pace, lax as he sips on a coffee and whistles without a care in the world. Despite the fact that he had a highly trained assassin trailing him. 

The alleyway they’re about to pass seemed almost too perfect but Elliot doesn’t question it as he follows close behind him and pulls him into the darkness, pressing him up against the brick with a forearm to his throat. The man screams with surprise but Elliot is quick to muffle the sound with his palm, hissing with pain when Colby bites into his flesh, harsh and desperate. There’s an unpleasant, pungent smell that fills the air and when Elliot looks down, he finds Terry had pissed himself, overcome with fear. 

Elliot cocks his gun, the cool metal heavy in his palm and presses the gun to Colby’s forehead before pulling the trigger. There’s only a faint buzzing noise, the shock of the bullet muffled by the silencer he had attached earlier that morning but Elliot’s own blood roars in his ears, quieting it further. He feels the warmth of blood splatter on his neck and cringes but otherwise doesn’t move. He can only take him in when he’s sure he had stopped breathing.

An eerie sort of silence washes over him and Elliot grimaces, hiding the body the best he can before going two blocks down to the car Wellick had promised to leave. When Elliot makes it back to the site, he pulls the car as close into the alley as he could dare and throws Colby’s body into the trunk before wiping his blood stained hands on his pants and makes his way to the arcade. Wellick would be waiting there and Elliot was eager to rid the body and get his pay. 

He’s glad the sun was yet to rise as he pulls into a parking space and carries Colby’s body through the entrance. Elliot finds Tyrell sitting beside the skeeball lanes, looking anxious and watches his face go paper white when he takes in Terry’s body. “What?” Elliot mutters, dropping the body like a sack of potatoes, the thud loud in the empty silence. “Take a good look before I burn his body,” He continues, prying the dried blood from beneath his fingernails. 

Tyrell stumbles forward, a green tint taking over the stark white and Elliot merely grimaces once he turns and gets sick a few feet away. “He’s...” Tyrell trails off and Elliot rolls his eyes now, quickly becoming irritated. 

“Dead? Yes, that’s what happens when you hire a hitman,” Elliot says with a sort of venom that has Tyrell flinching back. “Now hand over my pay. I need to get rid of this body and would like to do so before the sun rises,” 

Tyrell swallows loudly, eyes wide and hands over a wad of cash, watching as Elliot undoes the band and counts it before him. If Tyrell had shorted him, things wouldn’t end well. After counting it twice, Tyrell sighs with relief when Elliot nods with approval. “Alright,” Elliot says, shrugging as he pockets the money. “Get out of here, unless you want to watch,” He holds a grim smile that has Tyrell shuddering with unease and he says nothing as he backs away from him. 

Tyrell didn’t want to witness Elliot burning Terry Colby’s body, didn’t want to smell the bitter tang of melting flesh. The sight alone was enough to haunt him for weeks so he leaves Elliot to it. He had Elliot’s contact information, the number of a burner phone Elliot would undoubtedly trash within the next few days. If Tyrell didn’t see him again before then, he knew the chances of coming in contact with him was unlikely and that bothers him more than he’d like to admit. 

***

“Shit,” Elliot grits his teeth, waves of pain washing over his abdomen and limps over to the arcade, thankfully not far off with his hands pressed to his stomach as black dots dance across his vision. He takes his phone out, that shitty burner he had bought three days before and calls the one person he can think of as he tries to steady his breathing. 

“Elliot?” Tyrell murmurs with surprise. “Are you alright?”

“No,” Elliot chokes. “Where are you right now?” 

“At home,” Tyrell says instantly but his voice is hushed, still heavy with sleep. “What’s wrong?” 

“I need you to meet me at the arcade. Bring rubbing alcohol, gauze, a lighter, a pair of needle nose pliers and a metal butter knife,” He instructs, words muddled. 

“What—“ 

“Just do it,” Elliot snaps. “And hurry up,” He hangs up the phone then, applying more pressure to his stomach and tries to ignore the warmth of his own blood on his hands. It bothered him more than anyone else’s blood did; the blood of his enemies was of his own cause but the sight of his own, injured by an outsider caused nausea to rise up in his throat. Elliot had been trailing his next client, a younger, lower ranked associate at E-Corp who had managed to turn the tables on Elliot, bringing out a gun of his own and shooting him with barely a glance. 

Adrenaline ran like acid through his veins and Elliot fights hard to steady his breathing. Panicking wouldn’t solve anything but the fact that his vision had begun to tunnel only worsened his anxiety. 

The door to the arcade opens with a squeal and Elliot takes Tyrell in; he was holding all that he had asked, looking confused but goes paper white at the sight of his blood soaked shirt. “Elliot what the fuck,” He hisses, coming to his side.

He didn’t have time to explain, only rids himself of his shirt and takes the knife, lighter, pliers and alcohol from him. Tyrell watches as Elliot disinfects the tools, then his wound and grits his teeth to keep from gagging as he watches Elliot dig into the wound before pulling out the bullet he had been hunting for. “Fuck me,” Elliot whispers with a grimace before disinfecting his wound once again. 

When Elliot begins to heat the knife with the lighter, tinged with black but not quite red hot, Tyrell’s eyes widen. “What’re you doing?” He yelps.

“I have to cauterize the wound,” Elliot mutters, not looking up at him. “It’s too deep for it to clot on its own and I’d probably need stitches but there’s no way in hell I’m going to the hospital so this is my best bet,”

Tyrell looked close to passing out himself and he has to steady himself on the pinball machine, not sure he could believe his eyes as he watches Elliot press the knife to the injury in short bursts, as if he had done it dozens of times before and maybe he had. “Holy shit,” He mutters but can’t help but gag this time at the smell of burning flesh. It was the exact thing he had avoided days before when Elliot had killed Terry Colby and yet Tyrell found this so much worse.

“Hand me the gauze,” Elliot chokes and Tyrell does, barely managing to look in his direction as he takes it, hands soaked dark with drying blood. Once Elliot had wrapped up the wound, he sighs, relieved but winces at the pain that still remained. He limps over to the popcorn machine, opening up the popper and Tyrell’s eyes widen with surprise when Elliot pulls out a small baggy of off white powder. He had a hunch that Elliot had been on some sort of drug but opiates? That would’ve been his last guess. 

“Thank you,” Elliot mutters after doing two lines for good measure. 

Tyrell can’t help but shake himself out with confusion. What in the ever living fuck was happening right now? “Are you going to be okay?” He asks, the only thing he can come up with and watches Elliot nod sluggishly.

“I’ll be fine,” He promises, running a hand through his hair before shrugging his shirt back on. 

Tyrell was relieved to see colour was beginning to return to Elliot’s face. He looks down at the shirt he wore, a medium grey stained crimson and grimaces before shrugging off the hoodie he wore, a last minute decision when he rushed out the door to meet him and says, “Take this. It wouldn’t be very smart to walk around Queens in a bloody shirt,” The sarcasm is thick in his tone and Elliot rolls his eyes but takes it nonetheless.

“See you around, Wellick,” Elliot says simply, as if they had just been discussing the weather and Tyrell’s eyebrows furrow with confusion. 

“That’s it?” He whispers, eyes wide as he watches Elliot pull the hood over his face, looking nearly unbothered. “You’re just going to go?”

“Did you... need anything else from me?” Elliot asks, sounding just as confused. 

“No, I just—“ 

“Then I need to get going,” Elliot shrugs. “My client is going to be pissed I let him go and I need to find him before shit can hit the fan,” 

“Shit hasn’t already hit the fan?” Tyrell asks incredulously and Elliot shakes his head with the slightest smile. 

“Shit would hit the fan if I were dead,” Elliot says, zipping up his hoodie and turning his back to him. 

“Are you sure you should be going out to find that guy after you just got shot?” Tyrell whispers, uncertain. 

Elliot sighs and when he turns toward Tyrell again, he finds him frowning deeply. “If I don’t, the consequences of letting him free will be worse off,” He says simply and doesn’t give Tyrell the chance to respond before he leaves the arcade.

Tyrell stands there, buzzing with confusion as he watches Elliot limp out before the door screeches behind him and he disappears. He knew he shouldn’t leave Elliot to fend for himself but wouldn’t be much help in any case. He didn’t know the first thing about killing anyone and the sight of blood made him queasy and yet... he couldn’t bare to leave him alone. 

Tyrell leaves the arcade after making what could be the most foolish decision of his life. He finds Elliot barely outside of the parking lot and trails him, a few feet back. Tyrell knew Elliot was still on cloud nine, morphine settling deep in his blood so he would be the last thing on Elliot’s mind. 

They’re walking for hours and Tyrell couldn’t help but be the slightest bit impressed at Elliot’s stamina given the fact that he had been shot earlier that night. They stop in front of a shitty motel 6 and Elliot strides in confident as ever. The front desk is abandoned so Elliot walks behind it, looking through the clientele sheet and finds his target’s room and makes his way there. Tyrell is barely able to trail him without giving himself away but manages, sighing with relief when Elliot stops in front of one of the first few rooms, crouching down to pick the lock. Once it clicks, a muffled sound in the silence, Elliot physically relaxes, looking relieved. 

He walks into the hotel room, gun raised and painted with his own blood but he pays it little mind as he walks further into the room. He finds the man asleep on the pull out couch, hand over his eyes and Elliot grins, taking aim before pulling the trigger. 

His death was quick and Elliot grits his teeth, bitter. He wished that the man would’ve suffered, given what he had done to him but knew this was for the best. He takes his phone out and calls the agency he worked with, a secret government corporation who often took care of the bodies and gives them a run down as quickly as he can. “And hurry,” Elliot snaps into the receiver, holding his side which had begun to ache all over again. “It’s been a long night and I don’t feel like waiting,”

Elliot moves toward the doorway, frowning at the door which was left ajar. He had closed it when he had come in. Tyrell doesn’t have the chance to hide before Elliot spots him, heart racing with fear. “Damn it,” He hisses, eyes narrowed. “What the fuck are you doing here?” 

Tyrell watches as Elliot puts his gun in his belt, hiding it under the hoodie he still wore and tries to work his tongue to form any sort of explanation but comes up empty. “I—“ 

“You wanted to snoop,” Elliot cuts in, voice sharp. “What was the point in that? Wanted to watch me kill someone, did you?” 

“No, I just... I wanted to make sure you were okay,” 

“I told you I would be,” Elliot snaps, moving forward and pushing him out of the way, locking the door before pulling Tyrell toward the hotel exit. “We need to get out of here before they show up,” He mutters. 

“Who?” Tyrell asks, confused and Elliot rolls his eyes with irritation. 

“The corporation I work with. They take care of the bodies so the murder doesn’t get traced back to me. My boss would’ve had my head if I hadn’t gone through with this mission, that’s why I was so desperate to make sure I got it done,” He explains as they walk back out into the cool night air. 

“But I’m the one who contacted you,” Tyrell says with furrowed eyebrows. “I didn’t contact any sort of corporation to get to you,” 

“I take cases like yours into my own hands,” Elliot says simply. “I like the pay people like you give and I know how to get rid of bodies myself. I just don’t like to,” His voice was even as he spoke, sounding calm as they walk across the hotel parking lot. A black Escalade pulls up beside them and Elliot nods at the man who rolls down a tinted window. “A17,” He says before he and Tyrell continue on. 

“Where are we going?” He asks softly and Elliot sighs, pulling the hood up over his face. 

“I’m going home. I don’t give a shit where you go,” He shoves his hands into the pockets and sighs with frustration when Tyrell continues walking at his side. “What?” He snaps, finally losing his temper. 

“I... I don’t want to be left alone,” Tyrell murmurs, looking down at his hands. 

“You have a wife and kid. Go back to them,” 

“They’re not home,” Tyrell lies quickly, unsure why he was doing so. Maybe it was the fact that it wasn’t exactly him who wanted company. He had a feeling it was Elliot who didn’t want to be alone. 

“I know a good barbecue place not far from here,” Elliot says eventually. “Want to get something to eat?” 

The smallest of smiles makes its way onto Tyrell’s face and he nods, finally looking up at him. “I’d like that,” He admits and the silence that falls over them not long after is more comforting than not. Tyrell finds a sort of beauty in it.

[furiousstarfishphilosopher]

Sanitary Gate represents safe protection for everyone, in particular for those who work in close contact with groups and are therefore at higher risk. It can be installed at the entrance of public offices, pharmacies, supermarkets, airports, hospitals, ports, stations. It is suitable for all private companies who need to hygienic the workforce, goods, vehicles and material, Government office sanitization through gate use.

Call :971 508144086   Email :info@tektronixllc.ae

disinfectant tunnel , disinfecting tunnel uae , disinfecting tunnel abu dhabi , disinfecting gate uae , disinfectant gate dubai , disinfecting tunnels sharjah disinfectant  tunnel  dubai  , disinfecting tunnel abu dhabi , disinfecting tunnels sharjah , disinfectant tunnels dubai , disinfectant gate abu dhabi , disinfectant spray  gate   uae , disinfectant tunnels bur dubai 

[harringtons-writer]

time after time [2]

Requested: no, but you always can! ☻☻

Pairing: Steve Harrington x reader (romantic) + the kids (friendship) 

Word count: 2034 (wow)

Warning(s): doesn’t follow the storyline completely, swearing, angst, blood, cute and fluffy. 

Summary: time after time life seems to bring you and Steve Harrington back together maybe that’s why you two start to catch feelings for each other. 

A/n: part two!! thanks, for the support on the first part!! I made it extra long, so enjoy!! next chapter will be a more fluffy one ;) let me know what you think!! ♥♥

Also read: part 1 

(Not my gif) 

you groaned hearing your alarm clock go off, you barely slept after last night events, dragging yourself out of bed you walked downstairs to take breakfast. “good morning, mum, dad, Miss Henderson?” you yawn-questioned pouring in some milk “not so good morning.” your mam gave you a disapproving look while placing her hands on her hips. “where did you run of last night?” you were amazed, how could they know? you became a master sneaking out of the house through the years, that’s when you’re realised why miss Henderson was standing in your kitchen. “uh, I was with Toff.” you made up, she was your best friend after all so that would make a believable story. “don’t lie to your mother, young lady.” your dad looked up from his paper.

the tv was playing in the background and you wondered why. it couldn’t be your younger brother, he had made himself the habit to sleep-in, making it your job to wake him up. when he started throwing things at your head, you gathered your savings to buy him an alarm clock of his own.

“don’t I deserve a good morning?” Dustin’s head popped up in the kitchen door. “I asked you to stay in the living room, Dustin.” Miss Henderson was always loving towards her son but something in her voice sounded disappointed. “I wanted to see Y/n,” he whined. “morning, dusty.” you smiled.

“Dusty told me everything after I caught him sneaking into his room.” Dustin rolled his eyes. “speaking of throwing me under the bus.” he gave his mom a dirty look and disappeared as fast as he appeared. Dustin was a smart kid, he would never tell his mom what really happened. “that little shit.” you mumbled, trying to figure out which lie he made up.

just in time your brother walked in “mom, Y/n is swearing again.” Pete noted as he whipped the sleep out of his eyes. “language.” your mom sighed apologizing for your behaviour to Miss Henderson “stay out of it.” your younger brother seemed to have fun getting you into more trouble.

“we know about Steve and you.” Steve and me? you spat your milk back in the cup. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you gave everyone in the room a confused look. “we know you sneaked out to go hang out with that Harrington boy and begged Dustin to come because they’re good friends.” your dad wasn’t fond of the Harrington family, something to do with his own high school years.

“is he your secret boyfriend?” Pete clapped in his hands already guessing the answer was yes and knowing you would get in trouble not telling it to your parents “that’s not…ok, I was seeing Steve.” you knew there was no way talking you out of this one.

“young love is Beautifull dear,” Miss Henderson grabbed your hands. “I’m not mad at all, but your parents needed to know.” she smiled letting go off your hands, you fake smiled back “Dustin is a sweet kid, he just doesn’t want to lie to his mom.” she put on her coat and let herself out.

“did she forgot Dustin?” you thought out loud. “no, I promised you would drop him off at school.” you mouth fell open. “shit, school.” you ran upstairs, forgetting it was a school day. good for you, your parents were friends with Miss Henderson.

“you’re in big trouble, young lady,” Pete giggled behinds your mom’s back. “Pete, enough!” your dad shoot him a look. “but yes, your mom and I decided no more sneaking out and surely no more boys.” great, there goes your chance ever getting a boyfriend again.

you jogged to the living room and shot Dustin an I’m-going-to-kill you look, he jumped up knowing he better got his ass in the car as fast as possible. “we’re off.” your mom kissed your forehead “no more stupid stuff.”

“they think I’m fucking dating Harrington.” you spat out as soon Dustin closed the door. “is that so bad? you would rather have me tell mom the truth?” your mind wandered off to last night. Steve holding you close to him and you not totally hating it. “better than this shit story.” you chuckled.

“got caught last night?” Steves' voice echoed through the hallway. “how do you know?” you hissed, sharing the blame on him. “the only times you drive Dustin to school, you’re in deep trouble, like that one time you crashed your fathers’ car into mines.” he giggled. “we get it, you didn’t. I almost made it out without trouble only if Dustin didn’t spill his guts. maybe you should prepare yourself for his mom visit instead of making fun of us.” Steves’ smile dropped. “No, no, please don’t make her come over, my dad would kill me,” he begged. “I don’t know man, she gave Y/n this whole ‘young love is beautiful but your parents need to know’ talk, I think you deserve one too” Dustin shrugged his shoulders. “what did you tell her?” he got curious. “that you and Y/n sneaked out to see each other and I had to chaperone.” he looked at you and then back at Dustin. “they think we’re a thing.” he pointed back on forth you and him and giggled.

“so I catched something along the lines, you and Steve being an item?” Toff started. “what?” you almost choked on your green apple “the great halls of Hawkins high school speak, Y/n.” you shook your head. “I mean, we don’t blame you. have you seen…his everything.”

you waited for Dustin at your car and drove him home. “only dare to ask me for help if its an emergency.” you hugged him goodbye. “I promise.” he got out of the car and ran to his house, you waited to drive till he was inside.

to your surprise, that emergency would come sooner than you think.

you laid stretched out on your bed overthinking when you heard little ticks on your bedroom window. “Dustin, what’s up?” you sighed, banging your head to something. “Steve?” you questioned. “shit your nose is bleeding.” you lifted him up in your room. “come in kids!” you whisper-yelled.

Steve mumbled something before blacking out “he said, I’m not feeling well.” Lucas was sure. “no, he said, don’t ring the bell.” Dustin corrected “why would he say that?” Lucas shot back. “have no clue man.” you rolled your eyes. “grab something to stop the bleeding in the bathroom, please be quiet.” you demanded while placing Steves’ head on your thighs, squeezing his nose.

“Max, Mike what were you all doing under my bedroom window?” you asked, hoping they all just wanted to hang out. “we wouldn’t let you miss our campfire.” Mike simply said. “which means, we are burning the upside down, down.” Max informed me. “you’re house was the last stop.”

Lucas and Dustin ran in with toilet rolls, towels, disinfectant and patches. “god damn, It’s just a bloody nose.” you fixed Steve up as he was slowly coming back. “thanks, sweet cheeks.” you were sure he was still numb from of the collision.

“you all want me grounded for life.” you rolled your eyes getting in Steves’ car. “I’ll make up and excuse next time.” Max slid next to you. “one that doesn’t include Steve.” the kids laughed.

you arrived at the hole hopper made before, you grabbed the robe out of the trunk and followed the rest. Steve went down first so he could catch the kids. you held the rope firmly as the kids went down. “can I come down?” you asked before sliding down, Steve grabbing your waist as he said, “got you.”

you walked a few minutes when you heard that awful screeching sound again. the whole group froze and waited a few seconds. what a joke, you just arrived. “dart?” Dustin asked surprised as if he would answer, he kind of did. he jumped up from a corner and screeched once more. you looked over at Dustin, who was strangely calm. “easy, boy.” he pulled something out of his bag. “he’s crazy.” Max whispered. “no, he is awesome.” Steve whispered back. “here’s your favourite.” he gave the nougat to dart while waving we could pass. “goodbye, my friend.” Dustin said, catching up with the group.

“thanks for fixing my face up.” Steve suddenly felt the need to thank you. “you already did that, sweet cheeks.” you chuckled as you shined your way through the tunnels, Steve and you offered to walk upfront since you felt responsible for this kids. “huh?” he clearly didn’t remember. “I’ll tell you later.” you stopped arriving at the spot.

all of the sudden two demogorgons jumped in front of Steve and you, lucky the kids were a little behind. “stay where you are!” Steve yelled in their direction. you looked for anything you could find to defend the two of you when you realised it was time for the coarse resources.

“hide!” you yelled ducking to the ground throwing the hand-bomb to the Demogorgons. a loud boom was heard causing a bleep in everyone ears for a while.

“that really worked?” you got up, checking on the kids and Steve. “everybody ok?”

“holy, shit that was badass, Y/n” Dustin's’ hugged your side, when he realised the other kids were staring, he let go “like you just went ‘hide’, threw the bomb and then they were gone.” Lucas followed. “awesome!” Mike and Max decided to shout with excitement.

“where did you get that? you could have got hurt!” Steve wasn’t so excited “you’re not the only one hopper is giving gifts and I’m fine.” you brushed off. “I’m serious, Y/n. don’t do that ever again.” he looked you up and down to check you were alright.

“and you really need to stop getting Demogorgon blood all over your face.” he walked over to you and whipped it away with his thumbs just like he did yesterday, only now he didn’t pull you closer. you wondered if it was the presence of the kids “I kinda think it’s a look.” you giggled.

a few minutes all petrol buses were poured and it was campfire time. “light it up!” Steve gave the sign and the kids through the lighters in. “run!” you sprinted to a safer place and watched how the whole place got up in flames.

“let’s go back, this place gives me the creeps,” you informed and made your way back to the opening. on the way, you made small talk with Mike, Lucas and Max but you couldn’t help listening to what Dustin and Steve were on about.

“you’re telling me, you knew here since you were kids?” Dustin was surprised. “Yup, I guess young Steve wasn’t ready for girls like Y/n yet.” you wanted to look back and join the conversation but that wasn’t a good idea. “so old steve is?” Dustin giggled. “I’m thinking about it, I never really saw how amazing she was untill I saw her killing a Demogorgon for the second time.” you looked down, smiling.

you helped the kids up and just when they wanted to pull you up, that annoying screeching sounds echoed back on the walls. “quick, Y/n.” Steve tried pushing you up but you resisted. “I’m not leaving you here.” he sighed. “stubborn as always.” the demogorgons came in sight and you hugged Steve tight. “I think you’re pretty amazing too,” you whispered only for him to hear as you squeezed each other but to your surprise, the flock past in a hurry, not giving you one look. “something is up.” you could here mike whisper in fear. only after a while, you both dared to break the hug. “we need to talk.” Steve said before pushing you up.

the car ride gave everyone some time to think when your stomach growled causing some giggles “what? I’m hungry, as hell.” you couldn’t help it, you skipped dinner. “let’s make a stop at my house, no parents anyway.” Steve smiled taking the turn to his house.

that’s how you ended up on Steves’ couch, his arm around your shoulder and the kids nibbling on some candy bars and you wouldn't have it any other way.

[thecrowslullaby]

"I can explain." 

"Can you?" Logan asked, dragging his friend behind him as they ran down the corridor. 

"Just give me 30 seconds to come up with a lie!" 

"We don't have that kind of time!" 

"Do you have a better plan?" 

"Yes" Logan said, yanking them both around a sharp corner. The sudden turn almost cost Janus his balance. "Run." 

"Logan, we are on a spaceship!" 

"Then think while you run!" 

"You're lucky I'm smart." Janus muttered as he tried to keep up with Logan's long strides. Curse his short legs. 

Logan flung them both through a small crack of a huge door that was closing. He stopped dead in his tracks and Janus slammed face first into his back. He could hear the shaft door close with a loud metallic sound, preventing them from using it again. 

The blond took a step back, rubbing his nose with his left hand, the right one still having Logan's death grip on it. Janus glanced from behind Logan, his eyes went wide as he spotted just why the taller man had stopped. 

A sea of aliens was surrounding them. Armed aliens. And Logan just trapped them both in here. 

He glared at his friend who gave him a sheepish look, once again forcing Janus to solve the problem at hand. 

The blond took a deep breath before he straightened his posture and looked at the aliens in front of them. 

"We both are to leave the ship's premise. We have been infected with a virus that is deadly to your race. We suggest keeping out of our way."

"That's bull-" Janus snapped his hand at the alien. 

"Call me a liar, why don't you?" He snapped. "We'll see if you're as confident in your opinion when you'll have guts spilling out of your mouth in 3 days."

Most of the aliens took a few steps back. 

"Why didn't anyone escort you? " One of the aliens in the back shot out. 

"And risk being infected themself?" Logan jumped in on the explanation and Janus fought the urge to smirk. "They aren't sure how the virus is transferred yet. Best not to take chances and isolate us."

"We'd like to leave as soon as possible so as not to harm anyone," Janus continued. "Or would you like question the medical staff?" 

Few of the aliens shook their heads.

Good.

Janus dragged his companion to the nearest open spaceship, as soon as he reached the trees hold one of the aliens interjected. 

"This is a battle class cruiser. You aren't authorized to use one."

"We will return it in a week."Janus said, making a show of leaning against the shuttle door frame. "Or would you like to be in charge of disinfecting it."

The alien seemed to consider their options. 

"The pilot card." Logan said, sticking his palm out. The alien eyed it uneasily and Janus grabbed the taller man's outstretched hand, lowering it down. 

"Slide it along the floor." 

The alien nodded and did as they were told. The plastic rubbing against metal was the only noise that filled the air. As both races watched the small object with unease until it hit Logan's leg. 

The human leaned down, grabbing the card and lifting it up. 

Both of them quickly made it onto the spaceship, shutting the door behind them. 

Janus jumped onto the pilot seat before stopping dead in his tracks. 

"I have no idea how to pilot this thing."

"I can explain." Logan said, gently pulling the blond out of the seat. He inserted the card into a special vault. 

"Can you?" Janus asked, surprised. He wasted no time to sit himself in the passenger chair, fastening the seat belts. 

"But it would take me longer than 30 seconds." He said as he started the engine. 

"And we don't have that kind of time?" Janus grinned.

"Not if we get caught." Logan grinned back, before lifting the small cruiser And sending them down the starting tunnel.

@edupunkn00b I have no chill xd

Janus: I can explain.

Logan: Can you?

Janus: If you give me thirty seconds to think of a lie.

[elasianstar]

R #13 Accidental anger (Angst fic)

“I think I want to try for a degree in physics and mechanical engineering, oh but chemistry….”

“I can get you all the necessary paperwork Don, it'll be pushing it but we might be able to even get you in for the fall semester. You just have to decide on a major.”

“But there are so many choices! Physics, mathematics, engineering, psychology, chemistry… I can't choose!”

“Well can you narrow it down to your top 3? A double major and a minor is doable in 5-6 years if they're all in similar disciplines.”

“Ok, I think I'll stick with physics and engineering…. And a minor in inorganic chemistry.”

“Are you sure?”

“mmmmmmm! Yeah just put it down before I change my mind again. I can't believe you got me in, I'm going to be an actual college student!”

“Yep, as soon as we send these enrollment papers in and get your classes finalized you will be an official Columbia college Cougar.”

From where I stood in the tunnel outside the lab I heard it all.

I couldn't believe it, Donnie was going off to college with Elasia in the fall…

That evening Elasia’s POV

Raph has been acting really strange today, I mean not entirely out of the ordinary, but I haven't seen the red banded brother this irritable in months. He was stalking around the lair and bouncing from thing to thing in an attempt to keep himself in check, beating the snot out of his training dummy, cleaning random spaces, he even started knitting after a bit but his restless mind wouldn't let him relax. I tried approaching him to see what was wrong but he just brushed me off without a glance.

“Don't worry, Raph just gets like this sometimes, let him work off the steam and he’ll be fine. This is nothing like the explosions we endured as kids, Raph was a real live wire back then. This is most likely nothing that won't blow over.”

“I don't know Leo, I've never seen him quite this steamed, not even at you. He's been so good at keeping himself in check recently, he's been so proud of his self control. This isn't normal, something is wrong and I know it.”

“Guys! Fajitas are ready!!!”

Mikey's voice brought us all running to the kitchen, the chaos of flying plates being caught and the chatter between the brothers feeling normal and comfortable compared to the funk of the rest of the night. Then Raph made it to the kitchen and the atmosphere chilled almost instantly as he roughly snagged a plate and plopped into his normal spot on the bench between me and Mikey. He didn't make eye contact or even spare a kind word just started serving his portion of food and eating in a fuming silence. The others acted like nothing was wrong and soon the usual chatter started back up.

“And I helped this old lady with eyes all over move a futon we found out at the dump into her apartment. I think her name was Sicily if I remember right, her son is coming home from serving with the coast guard soon and she needed to set up a place for him to stay until he could get situated. She was really nice, afterwards she brought out homemade cookies and showed me a few of their old photo albums.”

Mikey was chattering away, he's been so much happier since he started volunteering at the small mythic community. His eyes were brighter and he seemed more willing to express himself.

“The scrappers are treated like heroes over in the compound, I don't see why you guys don't stop in and help out some time.”

Leo smiled a bit between bites of the delicious roasted peppers the younger had prepared, gesturing with his fork as he talked.

“Things are going pretty good at the market actually, selling my extra fresh produce is working out. I even have a few return customers, there's this older guy with hooves, Devin, who comes up every week from new Jersey. He cleans me out of hot peppers every time I take some down. I can't believe we lived down here our whole lives and never knew they were over there. Feels good to actually help people who are like us, who can look at us without seeing a bunch of freaks.”

“Oh and Don, your gadgets are actually selling pretty well. The kids love your little tin toys. You could start up your own shop and do nicely, or I bet I could convince Tobias to set up a little section for your stuff at the toy counter in his shop.”

“I might actually consider that Leo, making them does give me a nice break from upgrading our stuff and my lab projects.”

“what's the point.”

Raph's comment was almost too quiet to hear as he shoved off from the table.

“What's that all about Raph?”

“I said what's the Damn Point! You'll just end up leaving and then what! You'll be too busy with your stupid degrees to do anything else!!!”

His plate went whizzing past Donnie’s head and crashed into jagged shards that littered the floor. Something broke in behind Donnie’s eyes and soon he was launching himself over the table to get in his larger brothers face. Bo staff caught between twin sai as they struggled against eachother.

“Well sorry if I want my chance to better myself! You know more than anybody that I've always wanted This, to actually have a chance to be a part of the scientific community!”

“Well whoop de fuckin do! Donnie’s the smart one, he's going to make something of himself!”

Raph managed to throw Don away, his sai still buried in Don’s staff. But his anger was growing, all his wards were down and his eyes glazed over white as he lost himself.

“IS WHAT WE DO NOT ENOUGH FOR YOU DONATELLO, HUH! IS PROTECTIN PEOPLE AND HELPIN PEOPLE TOO DEMEANIN FOR MR. EINSTEIN! YOU'VE GOTTA ABANDON YOUR BROTHERS TO BE HAPPY HUH!”

“Raph honey calm down no body is…”

“DON'T YOU OPEN YOUR SLY CONIVIN LITTLE MOUTH! YOU WERE FUCKIN IN ON IT! I HEARD YOU! IT WASN'T ENOUGH FOR YOU TO JUST LEAVE, YOU HAD TO TAKE MY BROTHER AWAY TOO! GET YOUR HANDS OFFA ME!”

“He flung me of of his arm like i weighed nothing, sending me flying across the kitchen to crash against the steel cabinet. I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder and warmth running down my chest from where the edge of the cabinet had bitten into my flesh. I couldn't process anything else in that moment, he actually hurt me.

“DON'T YOU DARE TREAT HER LIKE THAT!”

Mikey swung on his older brother, his smaller form not allowing him to do much more than further anger his behemoth of a sibling when his punch glanced off Raphael's jaw. A whirlwind picked up, grabbing heavy iron cookware and flinging it at Raph in an attempt to fight him off as the enraged turtle charged the perceived attacker. Mikey's arm was caught in the larger’s grasp and a harsh pop was heard as his shoulder was wrenched out of place and he was tossed to land beside me on the floor.

“RAPH COOL IT. YOU'RE HURTING YOUR FAMILY, IS THIS REALLY WORTH IT? WE CAN TALK THIS OUT!”

Raphael was past getting loud, his anger turning his voice to embers, a low crackle to match the fury in his eyes. He had his oldest brother pinned high up to the kitchen wall, trying to fight back would only lead to more injuries.

“You were in on it to werentcha Leo? Sendin MY brother away. you never thought Don was a good enough fighter, drove him to spendin all his time in that damn lab to try and earn your approval. Now you're sending him away and he's never gonna come back.”

Raph's scales were starting to glow with heat, the edges turning black as the air around him started to shimmer like the mirage over the highway in summer. Tongues of flame started to flick over his fingers, climbing the thick columns of his arms as he reached for his eldest brother's throat.

“ENOUGH!”

Donnie’s voice shook the lair like an earthquake, causing a shower of dust to overtake his brothers flame, and smother the oxygen from him. The sound of the two falling to the floor and Leo’s harsh coughing gasps signalling for Donnie to stop.

When the dust cleared, the level of chaos became extremely apparent. Mikey was trying to use the counter to push his shoulder back in, my own blood had stained the floor as more seeped from the deep gash in my shoulder and I was sure my collar bone was broken. Kitchen utensils were embedded in the wall and a thick layer of dust covered everything. Leo was regaining his breath in the corner, burns in the shape of Raph's hand and forearm across his chest and shoulder. In the middle of it all was Donnie, on his knees looking absolutely shell shocked. His glasses were missing and blood trickled from the side of his head where he had been struck as Raph charged Mikey. He had Raph’s head in his lap and he was wiping the dust off of his unconscious brother’s face as he checked to make sure he was breathing.

“this is all my fault…”

Stopping the flow of blood i hauled myself up off the floor with my left arm just as Mikey managed to snap his shoulder back in. A small whisper of pain the only sound in the room as he approached his brother with cold yet worried eyes.

“No Don, this is as much my fault as it is yours. But I don't understand what the problem was.”

By now Leo had gotten himself up off the floor and was helping Donnie haul Raphael's limp body to the needle room.

“Whatever it was I think the two of you owe us all an explanation. But after we get everyone patched up. Elasia, do you think you've got it in you to help out?”

My calm mask wasn't fooling anybody, my ankles were shaking and I was holding my arm funny to ward off the pain in my shoulder.

“Yeah but I'll need Mikey to go get one of the bags in my fridge upstairs. Do you think you can manage it MC?”

“Y-yeah, but why?”

“Don't question it, just go get it please.”

Donnie’s wounds were the most troubling so I tended to him first. Having Leo check to see if his skull was cracked from the blow while I checked his eyes for sign of concussion and readied the disinfectant.

“Here, I don't know why you needed this but…”

Biting into the bag I ripped off the corner and drained the entire contents in front of all of them, sighing when the quick release of energy flowed into my shoulder to repair the broken bone.

“Works faster than solids, I needed the energy to heal myself before I could help any of you. Couldn't wait the three days for the bone to re-fuse. Now Donnie hold still, this is going to sting like a big bitch but I have to clean the wound before it's healed.”

Pouring a thin stream of disinfectant over the wound to wash out any dirt Donnie just set there, staring at the turtle charm hanging around my neck as I dabbed clean gauze over the wound before sealing the flesh in gold light.

“Mikey are you ok?”

“Yeah, just a little sore but I think my arm is ok.”

“Could you try and find Donnie’s glasses? Come on Don let's get you laid down, try and close your eyes for a bit. Get calmed down.”

Mikey left to find Donnies specs as i moved on to help Leo. His burns weren't severe enough to warrant an emergency but he had to get cleaned up soon or risk infection. His plastron was discolored and he had several blisters along his shoulder and forearms.

“I have to wash the hide before I drain the pustules.”

“Just do it. I can handle a little pain Ane.”

The cleaning cloth accidentally popped one of the larger blisters while I was cleaning and Leo gripped my free arm to steady himself. His grip got stronger as I lanced each obtrusion to his hide and flushed the whole area with anesthetic. I would surely have a bruise for a few minutes, but what was another bruise. What was another scar.

Mikey returned with Donnie’s glasses, miraculously without damage and I had him help both of his brothers to their quarters to let their bodies continue healing on their own. Now to deal with Raph.

There were no burns to deal with, just a few superficial cuts to be cleaned. He was breathing fine and a dark bruise was forming on the side of his head where he had been struck with a chunk of concrete. I cleaned him up and left him there to heal. Keeping my emotions controlled and sterile until the boys had left the room.

I placed my hand over Raph's chest, feeling the familiar tug of our bond as I drew his energy from his body. As it coalesced into its solid form I cupped the softball sized soul in my hands. The surface of it blazed with fire but it did not burn me, it refused to hurt me. I felt my chest tighten and my throat swell as I dropped the thing back into his body and turned to face the mirror. The cracked glass obscured my figure somewhat but there was no missing the new scar slashed cleanly across my shoulder. The edges of the tight silver flesh were pink, signs of my body fighting an infection due to the wound being sealed uncleaned. My skin was covered in coagulated blood, flecks of gold making the macabre sight seem alien in the flickering fluorescent light. My eyes were blown out gold and my teeth were sharp, body wound tight and ready to fight. Though I had been unable to land one blow against him to protect my friends, he had flung me without a second thought

I leaned my forehead against the shattered mirror and just stared back into my own eyes for a while. I didn't move, I tried not to think, i just let my mind and my emotions run their course until I was too exhausted to hold back anymore. My eyes welled with tears and my knees gave out as I fell to the floor. For the second time in as many hours I couldn't move of my own volition, my body just sitting there, rocking back and forth as I was forced to stare at my pathetic self in the mirror.

“You call yourself a warrior, but you didn't even try and do anything. You could have shut it all down but you just sat there and watched. You're pathetic, you're weak and spineless, you don't deserve to carry their name. You aren't the Elasia, that mark on your arm holds as little value as you do. You're nothing but a coward, a guinea pig, a worthless animal. J.4.2.2. J.4.2.2 J.4.2.2. J.4.2.2.J.4.2.2.J.4.2.2.J.4.2.2.J.4.2.2.J.4.2.2J.4.2.2.J.4.2.2.J.4.2.2.J.4.2.2.J.4.2.2.J.4.2.2J.4.2.2.J.4.2.2.J.4.2.2.J.4.2.2.J.4.2.2.J.4.2.2

J.4.2.2.J.4.2.2.J.4.2.2.J.4.2.2.J.4.2.2.J.4.2.2J.4.2.2.J.4.2.2.J.4.2.2.J.4.2.2.J.4.2.2…..”

I didn't feel the hands on my shoulder, I heard voices, but they sounded far away, through deep water. In a different time, past heart rate monitors, past the whirring of drills and saws, past dripping IV’s that made my blood run thick in my veins and my lungs heavy with fluid.

“Elaaaaaa…...elasiiiiiii….Elasia!....JAZZ!”

J.4.2.2

I started breathing again, my eyes wide with panic as my body thrashed and clawed at my binds, thick leather wrapped tightly around my wrists and waist holding me in place. Unable to fight, unable to protect those who looked up at me through thick iron bars. Wide innocent child's eyes, bright blue…

I came around to bright blue eyes filled with tears, to a bear hug squeezing me tight.

“Come on Elasia, Jazz, wake up please. Come on..”

“lemme go.”

The words passed my lips as a hoarse whisper but they felt like panic. My body moving to scramble away from my binds despite the hurt look on my friend’s face.

My vision cleared as I allowed myself to breath, the smell of antiseptic fueling my fearful visions never leaving but being overtaken by visions of my friends as they watched over me from a short distance.

“What's happening, what's wrong jazzycakes?”

The green souled one put his hand on the blue eyed one’s shoulder.

“Panic attack Mikey, just let her breath.”

Mikey, Don, Leo, …., My friends, safety, home.

My heart rate slowed and I was able to get up off my knees and forearms to sit comfortably again. Mikey slowly got closer and I held out my arm for a hug. Safe, my friend, I was safe.

“Mikey….”

“Yeah Elasia, it's Mikey. I'm right here.”

“Donnie, Leo.”

They moved as if they had been holding their breath, moving closer to comfort me as well. One hand on each of my shoulders. I was crying again, little hiccup skene sounds bouncing out of my fluttering ribcage.

“I did nothing, i couldn't protect anyone. I, I, I…”

“You did nothing wrong, things just got out of control. It was all a massive misunderstanding. Donnie explained everything.”

“Leo?”

“Yeah?”

My face must have said what I meant because I couldn't find the word. I felt his hand tighten slightly around my shoulder for a moment, a small twinge in my collarbone helping bring me back to clarity.

“You're welcome. Sis.”

It was then that the sound of coughing from the cot across the room caught all of our attention. Donnie and Leo left to take care of the issue, leaving me with Mikey as he continued to stroke my wings to keep me calm and grounded.

“Raphael.”

“Yeah sounds like he's finally woke up, perfect timing as usual.”

Mikey sounded less than pleased as we listened to the conversation behind the curtain.

“How bad was it?”

“You dislocated Mikey’s shoulder, threw Elasia across the room, almost gave Don a concussion, and I'm wrapped up with 2nd degree burns. How bad do you think it was.”

“I'm sorry Leo, I don't know what came over me I just…”

“Its nothing we haven't gotten through before, wounds heal. No permanent damage was done.”

“You didn't tell me what happened to Elasia. Is she alright? I didn't hurt her did I?!”

“Raphael, sit down.”

“No I want to see her. I have to see her!”

“She is in no state of mind to see you.”

It got really quiet. Raph’s voice getting more dejected.

“What happened.”

“We think she had a panic attack, she wasn't breathing when we found her. When we got her around she kept mumbling a string of code on rapid repeat looking like she was lost in another world.”

“J.4.2.2.”

“Yes, what does it mean. We have to help her... without you.”

…

“It's her identification code, her name JAZZ, from when she was a child. She was kidnapped, taken to a lab. Held there for years, they did things to her. I'm not telling you any more without her, I promised.”

“We still need to know how to help her, Elasia is our friend too.”

“There's really nothing you can do, just don't leave her alone with her thoughts until she gets back to normal.”

“Hey, Leo.”

…

“How bad is she? I don't remember much past Don coming over the table at me.”

“You broke her collarbone and sliced her up pretty bad, but she's resilient. She patched us up, all of us.”

When they came back around the privacy curtains I was standing, my hair rebraided and my skin washed as well as I could manage in the needle room sink.

“How is he doing?”

“He’ll live. But for now I think it's best things stay a little distanced between you two. Go on with Mikey, He’ll help you get fixed up and help you keep your mind off things while Don and I straighten this out.”

Once we got most of the way down the hall I heard the fighting start, no screaming like last time but the tenor of their angry voices echoing down the corridor had me shaking slightly.

“Come on jazzycakes, let's finish getting you cleaned up. Then we can play some Spyro while you get back to normal.”

“Thanks Mikey.”

“Hey you did the same for me when that hurricane blew through the city. I've got your back girl.”

…

That night after I'd gotten tucked into bed I heard a light knock on the door.

“Come in.”

It took a minute but the door creaked open slow and Raph stepped through. His bandana was wrung between his hands and his eyes were on the floor. i could see the edge of Leo’s shell around the edge of the doorway. he was obviously behind Raph’s sudden burst of apologetic courage.

“I said come In Raphael.”

He just nodded, closing the door behind himself before sitting in the chair by the bed.

“Are you not going to look at me?”

“I don't want to see the damage I've caused.”

“Then leave, because living stuck in the past is no way to spend an eternity. We must all learn to move past our mistakes and better ourselves for the ones we love.”

He lifted his head and I could see that one of his eyes was nearly swelled shut. A big purple bruise taking up the entire side of his face from his temple to his jaw. His good eye was puffy from tears.

“Tell me Raphael, what damage do you see?”

“You've got a new scar.”

“Yes and on this body what is another scar.”

“You're favoring your left arm.”

“I am still sore, my collar bone was snapped. But it’s whole now, the pain will have completely faded by morning.”

“Your eyes are cold. I can feel mistrust like slime running under my shell. I hate it. I hate that i made you feel like this.”

“Then know it and just realize the consequences of your actions. Learn to talk to someone instead of stewing in your own mind and letting a situation spiral out of control. I don't believe Donatello enrolling in an online program with a few supplementary night courses demanded the events that transpired earlier today.”

“No it didn't, i’m sorry. I feel sick, I can't even bare to be alone with my own thoughts knowing I hurt you the way I did. If there's any way I can earn your forgiveness…”

“Raphael… Raph, baby. There is no forgiveness to be earned, it is already given. I know in your soul that you would have never intended to hurt me had you been in your right mind. Yes trust may become bruised, but it heals quite easily in the right circumstance.”

A choked sob broke from his throat as he reached for me, only to stop himself, harshly withdrawing in fear his advance would be unwelcome. 

“Raph, hun. set up here on the edge of the bed next to me.”

He moved like anything he touched could shatter in an instant, his hands still wringing the fabric of his bandana. I reached out and touched one of his hands, causing him to completely freeze. He hardly even breathed.    

Taking his hand in both of my own I moved it back and forth in my grasp, running my fingertips over the uniquely shaped bone structure and tracing the lines in his palm. I did this a lot when we were alone together and it helped soothe both of us. There were no blocks now, everything was shared between our bonded souls. When I was content I took his hand again and held it to the side of my face. it nearly enveloped my skull in its breadth and the hide was rough and battle worn, but it felt cool and safe against my skin. His eye shifted from his hand to my own face as we simply held eachothers gaze for a moment. From there i felt him trace over my new scar, fingertips grazing from the crest of my shoulder nearly to the upper swell of my breast and back. My own hand having slid down his arm to trace over his bruised face.

“Scars are nothing more than marks of trials you were stronger than.”

My hand grew warm as the energy flowed between our skin, restoring his eyesight on his right side but no more. After some time we both withdrew, hands tucked into laps and words left unsaid to hang in the mindspace unneeded. We knew what the other was thinking, the looks on our faces and the emotions flowing along our bond were more than enough.

“I had better let you get some sleep.”

“Yeah rest does sound pretty good after such a stressing day.”

He stood to leave but before he could turn the handle of the door I spoke.

“Did I say you could leave?”

“No ma’am.”

“Red….”

“Yeah?”

“Get your scaley ass in this bed before I have to get up and drag you over here myself.”

Without another word he climbed up into the bed, resting on his plastron as I tucked myself against his side to lie on my own stomach. The feeling of his arm draped over my lower back was safe, nothing could harm me like this and even our minds lay still. His breath slowed to the rhythm of sleep and I wiggled upward to be on the same level as his head. Gently pressing a kiss to his bruised temple I whispered in his ear before falling asleep.

“Even though I may leave your side, I'm never gone from you. I promise.”

[chirpysanitizing]

In What Ways Disinfection Tunnels Can Help To Stop The Virus?

We all now know that most states in India are functioning under a lockdown again. As the life-threatening virus attack is increasing its power, there is more news of hospitalization and deaths. Life seems to become a standstill as the fear of survival is gripping every citizen. In these difficult times, the installation of sanitization tunnels in Kolkata can reduce the spread of the virus and keep people safe. It is true that healthcare professionals can use PPE kits, but the general public also needs protective measures to keep them safe and healthy. For this, maintaining proper hygiene protocols, social distancing, and sanitizing tunnels are essential safety aids. 

Steps To Eliminate Harmful Microbes Using Sanitizing Tunnels In Kolkata:

The station has a non-contact alcoholic sterilizer. It is specially added for disinfecting hands. This is the first course of action that a person needs to follow when he enters the tunnel. 

The next step involves the spraying of mist through the inductive sprayer. It safely eliminates all kinds of risks. 

The third step involves the removal of dust and other foreign particles from your shoes. A carpet containing sterilized water is kept on the floor.

Where Should Officials Install Disinfection Tunnels?

Airports and Railway Stations: Though there are restrictions on interstate transport, there are some flights and few trains operating. With passengers coming from different places and boarding the flight, it is necessary to keep them and the staff safe. Thus installing disinfection tunnels can be extremely beneficial. 

Hospitals and Super Speciality Clinics: This is one of the busiest places in town and its importance cannot be emphasized enough. As patients, their families, and medical staff gather in the hospital, it is important to take maximum precaution. Having disinfectant tunnels at the entrance of hospitals and clinics will help to curb the rising number of affected people. 

Social Gatherings: Once the lockdown is over, there can be any social gatherings including weddings. Installing contactless sanitizer tunnels helps everyone stay clear of harmful microbes and disease-causing germs. 

The Only Limitation That You Should Be Aware Of: The concentration of the disinfectant should be carefully controlled else it can be harmful to human skin. As per the NCL-ICT report, 0.2-0.5% of Sodium hypochlorite solution (200-500 ppm) is safe. Anything more than that should be restricted. However, in the case of emergencies, the concentration should increase to about 0.05%. Failure to abide by these rules can backfire and in turn, cause disruption to health. 

Chirpy, the leading disinfection tunnels manufacturer in Kolkata, designs powerful yet cost-effective tunnels with proper security features. All you need to do is give them a call, and they will get back to you to fulfill your requirements. They offer various types of disinfection tunnels and you can choose to depend upon your use and requirements. Some o the variants are:

Basic Lite Model equipped with 8 nozzles

Basic Disinfection Tunnel equipped with 11 nozzles

Chirpy Smart Model

Duo-Disinfection Tunnel 

Mono Disinfection Tunnel

Transparent Disinfection Tunnel

With improved designs, the sanitizer tunnels from Chirpy can protect you at your work as well as in residential areas.

[smartfog114]

How to make more money by using the Smart Fog Tunnel?

Your Benefits:-Non:- wetting treatment Disinfect water sensitive produce without effecting the appearance. Disinfect packaged products *1.Utilize 100% of the chemical with no waste.100% coverage from all sides of the produce. No drying step needed.

Visit Us:- https://www.smartfog.com/humidifier-products.html

[covprotex]

Food Safety Tips for Restaurant During COVID-19

1. Send Staff Home If They Show Symptoms

Food safety begins with the individuals who are preparing & serving meals. You must set an example if you want your restaurant/hotel employees to take the COVID-19 pandemic seriously. If any of your staff have cold symptoms – even mild ones, send them home. Now is not the time to ask them to jump through hoops like getting a doctor’s note.

People with flu-like symptoms who haven’t yet been tested for COVID-19 should stay home for at least 72 hours after their fever has passed, & for at least 7 days since their symptoms began, according to the Centers for Disease Control & Prevention.

You can offer sick leave pay to your staff if your restaurant is in a position to do so – you may even be required to offer paid time off, so be sure to check federal & state laws before making this decision (keep in mind, these are changing on a regular basis).

Even more than authorities, you don’t want anyone feeling like they have to rush back to work in order to pay their bills. You should also ensure that your employees know where to access information about COVID-19 testing & government financial assistance programs. Use Advance Hygiene Solutions in your hotel to prevent coronavirus.

2. Make Handwashing Mandatory

Forget simply encouraging extra handwashing. Now is the time to make handwashing with soap & water for at least 20 seconds mandatory in various situations, including: 

·        When staff arrive at your restaurant

·        Between each order they prepare

·        After touching shared surfaces

·        After a meal or a smoke break

·        After bathroom breaks

·        After handling money

·        After cleaning the restaurant

·        When they leave for the day

Stock your restaurant’s handwashing stations with soap & towels, & ensure that hand sanitizer with at least 60% alcohol is available in multiple spots around the front & back of house. Put pictures up with handwashing information & remind staff vocally every day that you expect everyone to ramp up their handwashing efforts to help slow the spread of COVID-19. Improve your hand hygiene solutions in your hotels.

3. Limit Food Handling

Personal hygiene is imperative when it comes to protecting against the coronavirus, but you can take measures a step further by limiting the number of people who handle food & food packaging in your restaurant. You may need to rethink the flow of your kitchen line if possible, to have fewer staff involved in meal prep, as long as you continue to handle raw & cooked food separately. 

Ensure that your employees who are handling food are well versed in restaurant food safety guidelines & procedures. This might be the time to revisit what was cultured when your back-of-house staff got their food handlers permit, which included personal hygiene, sanitation, food safety, allergens, & food temperature.

4. Clean – And Then Clean Again

Before, during, & after shifts, now is the time to up your cleaning game. Exactly how long the coronavirus can stay on surfaces has not yet been confirmed, so be diligent in regularly wiping down counters & cleaning cookware, tableware, utensils, & high-contact surfaces like door handles.

The United States Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) has published a list of cleaning products that you can use as disinfectants to protect against COVID-19. To check whether the products in your restaurant are safe to use, simply check the EPA registration number on the product to the list (don’t go by the brand name). Use Disinfectant Professional 100 to clean your surface again and again.

Restaurateurs north of the border can refer to Health Canada’s list of hard-surface disinfectants & match the Drug Identification Number on the product label to the list.

5. Equip Drivers with Information & Protection

Restaurateurs can take various steps to protect their delivery drivers from contact to the coronavirus, starting by outlining delivery instructions at the point when a customer places their order online or over the phone. 

Many restaurants have begun doing contactless drop-offs to comply with social distancing.

Through contactless drop-off, the customer pays in advance & the driver leaves the package of food outside the door so that 2 parties do not interact.

Since people are able to place these orders online & request contactless drop-off, it provides additional layer of protection between your staff or drivers & the public – many businesses who didn’t offer online ordering before are shifting their offering for this reason. You want people to place orders without coming into the restaurant, whenever possible.

You’ll want to make sure to highlight online ordering offers & new delivery practices on your website & social media channels. Make sure staff taking food orders are alert of any contactless instructions & have them connect what’s available to customers. Keep disinfection tunnel outside you hotel which will help to avoid coronavirus germs to enter the hotel.

If you choose not to add your own online ordering system & delivery fleet, & instead work with a third-party delivery app with a delivery app like Uber Eats, they likely have already implemented these precautions. Research what measures they’re taking so you can relay these to customers as well.

If you’re working with your own fleet, provide your delivery drivers with hand sanitizer & gloves to further protect them from COVID-19. Inform your drivers that if they do receive cash tips, they should wash or sanitize their hands instantly afterward. Drivers can ask customers to use their own pen to sign any receipts, instead of lending them a pen. Or, opt for contactless payments made either over the phone with card-not-present transactions, through your website, or with a tap-enabled payment terminal.

6. Handle Packages Properly

You & your restaurant staff will certainly have to touch some food packages to fulfill orders, and you’ll have to work together to do so safely. Instead, keep the item down on a table, then walk away from the table so the other person can pick it up safely.

As much as it may pain you from an environmental standpoint to use items wrapped in plastic, you should remove any loose takeout cutlery or napkins from your restaurant. These items all hold the potential for cross-contamination. Ask guests if they need these items – if many are eating from home, they might be fine to take their order without.

7. Be Smart with Suppliers

It’s important to protect your suppliers, as well as your guests & employees. You can use the same contactless drop-off method with suppliers that you do with delivery customers.

Also, ask your suppliers what precautions they’re putting in place to slow the spread of COVID-19 so that you can communicate this information to your staff & customers.

In addition to implementing these restaurant food safety tips, look into your local, state, or federal laws before finalizing or communicating your restaurant’s approach to fighting the COVID-19 pandemic. These are the best sources for up-to-date information during a situation that is changing by the day.