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rotworld · 1 year ago

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7: Metamorphosis

(previous)

the girl goes home. you visit an old friend.

->sexually suggestive. contains mild gore, ear penetration, terato, mentions of drugging, mentions of child trafficking and child abuse.

The last leg of the journey is always a thing of wonder. You unfold your crumpled, egg-stained map and marvel at the neatness of the reality, the momentary certainty of things. This is the understanding you carved out in a corner of the world. This is how far you’ve come. The Drift is mercurial. It won’t last. These cities will have scattered again, these roads you thought you knew winding in strange, new ways. But for now, for just a moment, you bask in a sense of wearied accomplishment. You are still here, despite everything.

There were tears this morning. Albie drew a map of his own depicting his family’s corner of Verlinda, landmarks painstakingly rendered in colored pencils scribbles and labeled with shaky letters. A little cottage in the forest, surrounded by trees, bordered by a stream and many smiling animals, is labeled “MY HOUSE.” He wanted to make sure the girl would be able to find her way back someday. She has it on her lap, neatly folded, clutched in her small hands.

“It’s close,” you tell her.

She watches the scenery with rapt attention, memorizing every detail. “Close,” she agrees, glancing at you in surprise. “How know?”

“See the dirt? It’s kind of a reddish color. And that spicy-sweet smell is from the mulberry gardens.” The sign is just over the hill, exactly as you remember it; a metal slab suspended between old wooden posts, bearing elegant lettering and a curling ribbon design. “Welcome to Compass Hill,” it says, and your heart beats faster in recognition, anticipation and dread. “I grew up here,” you add softly.

[NOW PLAYING ON THE RADIO: HOW YOU REMEMBER BY AZURE RAY]

Roads into Compass Hill are long, decorated promenades of flattened cobblestone and stately scenery. Here is the visitor’s center, glass-paneled and flower-filled like a Victorian greenhouse. There is a lakeside sculpture garden with abstract figures and lanterns dotting the winding footpath. In the distance, the city’s crown jewel, a sprawling campus of red brick cathedrals—the head office and processing factory of Compass Hill Textiles.

“This used to be an awful place,” you say. “Someone might tell you the story later. Not to scare you, but because you should know. People would bring children of the road here because the company would pay them for it.”

You slow as you drive past the textiles building. They’ve kept it maintained, you notice, maybe to avoid suspicion. The lawn is trimmed, the hedges bordering the path up to the front steps neatly manicured. There’s a water fountain with an angel perched on top. The plaque set into the stone commemorates an ancient patriarch of the Dewitt family, a name emblazoned all over town. It was the Dewitts who built the mill, after all, a dynasty of textile magnates made wealthy by the harvest and refinement of exquisite silks.

You point to the factory. “I used to live there. It looks nice from outside, but most of the space is for machinery. Rows and rows of rattling, whirring things that took up whole rooms. The kids who couldn’t weave slept in the cramped, overheated basement, right under all the noise. Eventually, we’d get our license and start delivering silk.” The girl studies the building with a small frown. “It’s different now,” you assure her. “The factory’s closed. Nobody has to sleep on a concrete floor anymore.”

There’s a gate just beyond the factory. Curling wrought iron arches form symmetrical shapes where they meet, an insectoid body with large, sweeping wings. You can hear something just faintly; a buzzing hum. A faraway melody. The gates pull apart with a loud metallic clattering, welcoming you inside. In your rearview mirror, you see a large shape on the roof of the old textile factory. It crouches, spreads its wings, and flits away. The girl sits up sharply, startled and curious.

“Probably went to tell everyone we’re here,” you say.

“Everyone?” she asks. Something catches her eye and she turns back towards the window, her eyes widening.

“Everyone. You’re home.”

Beyond the gate is the true, new Compass Hill, built on the bones of the old. Structures are soft and rounded rather than angular, wispy, cloud-like material woven across the city skyline. Gossamer threads sparkle in dazzling neon shades and subdued earth tones alike. The schoolhouse is a powdery blue dome with rocks and flowers woven around the entrance, while the open air marketplace is adorned with rippling canopy shades and decorative arches. Everything is silk as only Compass Hill knows it, exquisite color and unbelievably versatile texture.

But the girl isn’t looking at the buildings. She’s looking at the people. Peering through honeycomb windows and ambling into the street, a crowd gathers, curiously chittering, all around your car. You stop in the middle of the road to let them see her, and for her to see them. Scaled skin and shimmering carapaces, wings and claws and softly clicking mandibles, bristle-thin hairs and thick, curly manes. The people of Compass Hill are as varied as the silk they spin. A child with slender vespid wings and gangly, striped arms comes right up to the window and the girl stares back at her with tears filling her four eyes.

“Home!” she wails. “Home! Home!” You unlock the door and she tumbles into the waiting arms of family she has only dreamed of. A woman, pale pink and violet with a mantis’ tapered abdomen and sharp, hooked fingers, gently works the knots from the girl’s hair. The hum rises, louder now, a gentle, rolling melody of a thousand voices harmonizing. It’s the Song, welcoming you both. When you step out of the car, you’re swarmed with gentle touches and fond nuzzling.

“You’re back.” There’s a pleased purring beside your ear as four soft, lightly furred arms encircle you from behind. You recognize her quiet, higher-pitched notes before you see her. Chiffon is one of the oldest weavers in Compass Hill, her great wings as thick and heavy as a blanket. She slips in front of you, taking each of your hands in hers, the other two free to cup your face. Her four eyes arch in worry. “Where have you been? And where are you going?”

“I’ll have to show you my map. It’s been a long trip,” you say. Chiffon chitters with laughter, a sound echoed all the way down the street as she passes the joke through the Song. “And I don’t know where I’m going yet. I was in a hurry to get here before the next shift.”

“Your hand…” She’s gentle with it, fingers worrying the skin all around your bandages. “I’ll have a look at this later. You’ll stay the night. Rest. He’ll be so happy to see you.” Your smile wanes. Chiffon squeezes your hands, reassuring but also pleading. “Please,” she sings softer. “Please go see him.”

You hear a delighted warble, the melody rising. The girl looks startled, clutching a wad of fresh, glistening silk in her hand, small string still connected to her mouth. The color is like a sunrise, a blue ombre glinting with strands of gold. One of the old weavers bends down and shows her how to braid it, tying off the ends so it doesn’t fray. “That’s hopesilk,” he says, pausing his singing so she can understand him. “Very strong, and very pretty. Someone believes in you very much.”

You wipe at your eyes and nod at Chiffon. The crowd parts for the two of you as a slow, undulating note enters the Song, a bittersweet melody. They’ve missed you. They wish you’d stay.

The Dewitt estate is at the very edge of town. Similar grand manors and luxurious homes dot the hills but the others are old, fallen into disrepair. The fences have crumbled, the stately brickwork has eroded, and mulberry branches snake out of the broken windows. They are Verlinda’s by right but remain, dilapidated and unoccupied, out of respect for the children of Compass Hill and everything they have endured.

It is only the Dewitt estate, all the way at the top of the hill, that is still maintained. Someone cuts the grass and trims the hedges. Someone fixes the roof when it leaks. Someone leaves food at the door. As you get closer, you hear a piercing scream from somewhere inside. “How is he?” you ask.

Chiffon feels your worry. She chirps a Song of one, fluttering and bird-like. “He’s…better, I think. He spends less and less time here.” She stops when you reach the front porch of the manor. Her wings are drooping, the larger ones folded around her like a shawl. “But he’s still…well. It’s rather shocking inside.”

You march up the steps before you can lose your nerve. There’s another scream—fearful, but also furious. You thought it was just mindless shrieking before but now you can make out words, “wretched” and “ungrateful” and “horrible, abominable thing.” The door is cracked open. The foyer is a mess of broken glass and overturned furniture, old blood stains crusted into the carpet and stuck to the wallpaper. A silver platter has been flung against the wall, shattering a plate and splattering mashed potatoes and a chunk of cooked meat.

There is a man standing in the middle of the foyer, chest heaving and red in the face, screaming at something in the corner. You recognize Mr. Dewitt. He looks more sickly than you recall, sweat shining on his gaunt face. You’ve caught him in the middle of a tirade not unlike the ones you remember from childhood. He was always short-tempered, liable to fly into a rage at the slightest inconvenience. “I want to see my son! You can’t keep him from me! Just you wait, just you wait until they hear about this down at the factory!”

He whirls around at the sound of your footsteps and his wide, bloodshot eyes brighten. “Oh! Oh, it’s you!” he calls, grinning deliriously. His eyes are hazy and he’s not quite looking at you. He wobbles forward, looking inebriated. “You’ve come at the perfect time! I need to get a message down to the factory. Good practice for a courier, hm? Some incompetent let one of the weavers cocoon itself and now we’re stuck with this.” He gestures to the corner, the thing looming there silently. “It’s making demands. Can you tell them to send someone?”

You hesitate just a second too long and he’s screaming again, berating you, calling you a stupid, useless road-mongrel. The thing in the corner lunges forward then, faster than you can see it move. There’s a rush of air and a flash of movement. It lands heavily on top of the man, slamming his head into the floor. It’s your friend, the boy who grew up in this awful place with you. Older now, much bigger, casting a wide shadow with his wings outstretched. You see him tangle his claws in the man’s thinning hair, yanking his head higher. You see him lean in, proboscis unfurling.

“Hello,” he sings. Four eyes peer at you beneath stark white fringe. In adulthood, the silver ones have also turned deep, inky black. “Hello again. I was just thinking of you.”

His proboscis plunges forward like a needle and there’s a sickening crunch and a spurt of blood as it pierces Dewitt’s ear. He shakes and flails uncontrollably, mouth stretched open in a horrified, silent scream, but your friend holds him still; one hand on his head, one on his shoulder, the others easily keeping him pinned beneath the weight of his enormous body. Your friend, the Singer of Compass Hill, vibrates with a welcoming melody, his wings flapping in contentment. His proboscis goes taut and there’s a sick, slurping sound, another gush of blood dribbling down Dewitt’s face and neck.

“Why…is he…?” You swallow your revulsion. The Singer tilts his head slightly, the change in angle churning and squishing wetly against something in Dewitt’s head. The vibration of the song drones just louder than the gurgling screams Dewitt makes.

“He’s drugged. Not certain where or when he is. It’s the same thing he used to give me and all the others.” The Singer’s primary eyes are focused on feeding, but the smaller secondary ones rotate, fixed on you. “You don’t feel bad for him, do you?”

“I’m worried about you.”

The Singer drops Dewitt, proboscis yanking loose with a wet, ripping sound and slithering back into his mouth. He came out of his cocoon differently than all the others. No one else has emerged quite so large. His frilled antenna scrape the high ceiling, his legs bend strangely, and he has six long arms. A ring of thick, white fur circles his neck and drapes over his shoulders. There’s similar patches of fuzz all the way down his body, thinning out across his belly and limbs. His fingers are long and dexterous, warm when they reach out and graze your cheek.

His eyes have changed the least. There are mandibles on either side of his jaw, pearl-white and flexible, a proboscis curled up inside his mouth, but you’ll always recognize his eyes, no matter the color.

“Is he dead?” you say quietly, staring at the body lying limp and face-down on the carpet.

“No. I won’t let him die yet.” The Singer takes your hand in three of his. He turns it over, letting out a low hum in concern at the sight of bandages, the missing finger. “I’ll keep him here, just like I was kept. Except he has the luxury of a house when all I had was that cramped cell in the mountage wing of the factory, a bedroom shaped like a coffin. I’ll use him as he used me, without remorse. He can die when I have nothing to gain from him anymore.”

You tug on his arm, pulling him down to kneel in front of you, and embrace him. The Singer rests his chin and mandibles on your shoulders. His hands all knead the front of your shirt, just like when he was a boy. “I came here to complete a delivery,” you admit. “It’s a child. This is her home.”

The Singer hums appreciatively, nuzzling against your neck. “Yes. Good. I heard the Song. She’ll be safe here. She’ll decide what to do with her own silk. No one will keep her from cocooning and growing up.” His proboscis darts out, tasting the sweat on your throat. “Hope…savory. She grazed on this. You fed her well. There’s more hope here, as much as she could ever want.”

You rub his mandibles and he purrs. “You can have some, if you want. Hope, and whatever else I have.” You feel the vibration of the Song gone slow and deep with interest. He flicks one of his mandibles against your lips, tempted. “You have to eat something other than grudges,” you say gently.

“I can’t stomach much else. But…” He crouches further, pulling you into his lap. You’re settled on one of his thighs, half-turned away from him. He brushes your hair out of the way and caresses the shell of your ear, stroking the lobe with his thumb. “I’ll go very slow. Very gentle. It’s been a long time.”

Now that you’re actually here, clutching the fur on his upper chest, your stomach is flipping nervously. He’s right, it has been a long time. You haven’t fed him since you were both younger, shortly after the change came—he, young and clumsy and still figuring out his new, enormous body, and you, just old enough to drive the Drift. One more time, you’d agreed, before you left town. He couldn’t make silk anymore but it didn’t matter. He just needed to remember how you tasted.

“Hold onto me,” he sings gently. “It’s alright. Hold on tight. You won’t hurt me.” You don’t want to pull on his fur but he pushes your hands more firmly against his chest, encouraging you to dig your fingers in. He clutches your shoulders, your waist, your hips—his grip firm but not bruising. He tries to relax you. He nuzzles against you, splays his mandibles and leaves little kisses along your chin and cheek. His proboscis darts out and flicks against your lips, teasing. He trails higher, following the curve of your jaw.

Your breath hitches when he reaches your ear. He kisses it. His proboscis traces the shell, explores its shallow dips and grooves. Slowly, he lick his way closer to the hole and you let out an involuntary shiver. His hands squeeze all at once in reassurance and hold you still.

“Will you give me something sweet? Something light and airy?” One of the hands on your hip moves inward. Long, graceful fingers slip into your pants and settle on your heated sex. He traces one fingertip slowly up and down, faint and featherlight. Your hips chase the friction. That’s the moment he’s waiting for. You feel his proboscis, cold and smooth, slip easily into your ear canal.

True to his word, he’s slow and gentle. The penetration is a gradual slide, navigating impossibly small spaces to lap at something not entirely physical, nestled at the intersection of thought, feeling and memory. You feel it like the wet slide of a tongue against some place sensitive and you stiffen, eyes rolling back in your head. It’s too much—too much something. Not quite pain or pleasure, not quite anything you can name. But it’s too much. Explosive heat and sandpaper on your nerves, an avalanche of overstimulation.

The hand between your legs barely moves. It’s just two fingers, slender and nimble, rubbing so, so slowly. Up and down. Up and down. Your underwear is damp with your own want and he collects it on his fingertips, uses it to lubricate his steady rhythm. He strokes you right to the edge of madness, crooning softly. You feel the Song behind your eyes, in your brain. You feel all the love it carries.

Your hips jolt and your flinch violently in his grasp. You gasp, or maybe you scream. Your throat is raw when you drift back down into awareness, feeling his proboscis snaking back out and exit with a faint, wet pop. Soothing liquid dribbles out of your ear in his wake, something to numb soreness. You sag against him and catch your breath. He trills, smoothing his palms up and down your body. The hand between your legs comes out of your clothes glistening and sticky.

“What was it?” you asked. Your words are slurred, your tongue still clumsy. “Wh—what’d you taste?”

He wipes the excess fluid from your chin, pressing one last kiss to your ear. It’s starting to tingle. “Nostalgia. Exhaustion. Hope. And…” He pauses, turning your face towards him. “You’ve been having nightmares.”

He lets you avoid the subject and bury your face in his fur. He Sings, swaying gently. You shut your eyes and left your mind drift. Tomorrow, you’ll be leaving. Maybe you can deliver silk, just like the old days—but this silk will be better than Dewitt’s ever was. Made by children who are happy, woven by adults who care about them. Tomorrow, you and the girl will have to say your goodbyes, and you know she’ll ask you about home because she’s kind. And you will smile and lie or maybe say nothing at all, happy for her but stinging with agonizing envy.

“You could stay,” goes the Song, every time you hear it. “Make this home.”

You don’t answer. You never do. The Singer holds you while he still has the chance.

(next)

#rotpeach writes #goretober #the drift #ive had a couple anons mention theyre reading or rereading ritsukas pictures lately #im so glad youre enjoying it!! ;v; that story has a special place in my heart

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allw3doisadvert1se · 8 months ago

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Do You Hear the Rapture?

Everest, Amanda, Swatch, and Spamton walked in silence down a street of the SIMULACRUM so warped by glitches and errors that practically nothing looked in place there. Rolling fields intersected by skyscrapers that gave way to dying flowers the size of city blocks decorated the horizon, where a hateful red sun slowly rose, bathing the group in harsh light. As they made their way around jutting slabs of concrete that rose tens of feet into the air, Everest couldn’t help but think they were heading in the right and yet somehow wrong direction simultaneously. Were these fractals made of the architecture a sign that they were getting close to the center of this cancerous blight, or did it signify that they had roamed far beyond its borders? Perhaps such questions would be a waste of thought right now. She needed time, time to think clearly, to consider what will happen when this all ends, to reflect on her time trapped here, and perhaps most pressing of all … what to do with Swatch.

Though the tall butler was being carried in the mostly trustworthy arms of Spamton in his NEO suit, his condition had worsened significantly, the collapsing wound on his side now causing his whole body to shift and pulsate every few seconds. Everest hadn’t known Swatch all too well before she had been brought here, but after the many, many cycles she had spent down here, she had grown to see why Queen had trusted him so dearly when he was alive. It didn’t seem fair to her that after so much preparation on his part to take back the city he cared for from the hands of The Founder he might not get the chance to even see it freed …

No. She couldn’t be thinking like that. Swatch was gonna make it. He had to. They just needed to find the Nail, and this whole nightmare would be over … at least until the inevitable next one if their track record was to be accounted for. But Everest didn’t even know what she was looking for. Xanrir hadn’t specified to Hazel what this thing actually was, and thus her instructions were equally vague. All she and the rest of the group were really hoping for was the possibility of …

stumbling into it …

As if on cue with her thoughts, the group rounded a corner and suddenly standing before them was a massive obelisk constructed of black stone that, unlike the rough and jagged features of the rest of the SIMULACRUM, was unnaturally smooth. Near the peak, Everest could spot a suspended balcony that seemed to spiral up along the outside to the summit. She turned to Spamton.

“Could you fly while carrying one of us?”

“OF [[h o r s e]] 1 CAAN. yOU HEARD H3R, [[Free-Range Poultry]], WE’R E GOING UP!!1!!”

Swatch shifted uncomfortably in the puppet’s arms. “Just don’t you dare drop me …”

“HMMmMMM[[M&M]]MM … I’LL [[Consider the following …]]!”

Without another word, Spamton spread his massive wings and in a very janky fashion lifted Swatch up, up, and up towards the balcony far above. At a certain point, Everest couldn’t make out the details, only seeing the neon metal plates of the NEO suit against the blood red sky. Amanda nervously patted Rodney in her arms, the tiny Tasque letting out a slightly laggy purr in response, before looking to Everest.

“Do you think that was his attempt at a joke?”

“Perhaps. He’s been trying a lot of things recently. Getting on my laptop and posting something, for one.”

Amanda giggled. “Hehe. By the blade, you were so mad at him.”

“Can you blame me? I’m surprised the damn thing didn’t get malware installed just from him touching it.”

“Random question, but are you gonna let him keep the NEO suit when we get back to our world?”

“Hhhhh … Probably not. In here it helps to have a bit of a powerhouse. But … back in the city? I don’t know, that feels more like it behooves us.”

“But has he not earned it? How many times has he saved our lives just from having that thing on?”

Everest bit the inside of her cheek in contemplation before sighing. “… Amanda, do we really need to talk about this right now?”

“I mean … not really. W-We should stay focused, I’m sorry.”

There was awkward silence between the two until Spamton returned, having dropped Swatch off on the balcony. Amanda got flown up next, much to the dismay of Rodney, who Everest could hear yowling from the ground level. Finally, it was her turn. Getting carried up that high into the air with such inconsistent movements was rather terrifying, but the puppet’s confident look towards the skies helped keep her morale high enough. When her feet impacted the ground of the balcony, she let out a sigh of relief. Spamton landed soon afterward, scooping Swatch off the ground from the wall he had leaned him up against. Swatch let out an uncomfortable squawk as he pulsed with the beat of the collapsing wound more, more unstable this time.

Everest looked onward to the stairs leading up and around, and after just a bit more walking, they finally reached the epicenter from which this virulent realm spread. In the center of the roof was a raised dias which held a small effigy formed of flesh and metal alike. Its surface shifted with the same screaming faces that could be seen on A.B.Y.S.S’s body, implying a connection between the two. Everest knew now without a shadow of a doubt that this is what they had been looking for. This was the Nail …

Without another moment’s hesitation, she sprinted for the dias, her footsteps tapping along the surface of the roof in echoes as the group followed a second afterward. She was so close, within 50 feet of it, she could get out of here at last and live the life she was supposed to, before A.B.Y.S.S, before The Founder, before the Queen ever even died … she could finally live for herself.

But of course, it couldn’t be quite so easy. With the sound of static feedback, the profane god of the SIMULACRUM appeared right in front of Everest, its clawed hand outstretched. She couldn’t stop her momentum fast enough before A.B.Y.S.S wrapped its hand around her throat and threw her backwards, causing her to yell in pain as she hit the ground. Amanda ran up to her, placing Rodney on the ground before gently helping Everest to her feet. Spamton had his arm cannon raised and pointed at A.B.Y.S.S, arcane energy glowing at the barrel, and Swatch … Swatch was quietly murmuring something, inaudible to even the puppet that held him.

The bleeding machine’s twisted smile grew wider, the flesh merged to its head tearing just a bit more as he did so. With a moment of pause, it began to speak. “Well done, participants! It seems that your little search has gotten you right where you aimed to be. You’ve reached the catalyst of my control over your precious little world.” A.B.Y.S.S chuckled darkly, the leathery wings on his back folding close to himself. “I would say you’ve sacrificed much to get here, but we both know that isn’t true.”

Everest spoke out in a voice that shook with simultaneously anger and fear. “We left Marcus to die! Is that not enough for you!? Must you take any more?!?”

“Come now. I’m not a fool. I am this world’s eyes and ears after all, I heard your little conversation with Amanda that leaving him to be deleted was for the better.” One of the extra arms that curled over its shoulder pointed at Amanda, causing her to have to gulp down her fear. “He is not of concern for you, and thus his unwilling sacrifice is not enough. But … I will offer you a plead bargain.”

A.B.Y.S.S snapped its fingers as it lifted Swatch and Amanda up with some form of telekinesis. Amanda yelped in panic as the entity pulled her close before stabbing one of its claws into her shoulder, immediately infecting her with a collapsing wound, now just as bad as Swatch’s. As Amanda fell silent, Everest let out a furious shout of rage. “NO! DON’T YOU TOUCH HER!! GIVE THEM BACK!”

A.B.Y.S.S turned to her and laughed raising both in the air higher. “Everest K. Addison … it is time for you to make a choice. Who lives … and who dies? This is the price you must pay for meddling behind my back, turning my own sibling against me, and sending me back to square one.”

Spamton fired a beam of energy at A.B.Y.S.S, which the entity took to the face to little effect. The puppet shouted, “HE-H-HEY!! [[Hands off the merchandise!]]! GIVe SW4<TCH [[Backspace]]!!!”

“It is not your choice to make, puppet. And unless you want to be going home two friends short, I suggest you do not attempt to harm me again.” A.B.Y.S.S was clearly reveling in the choice paralysis he had inflicted upon Everest, especially now with Spamton staring at her, trying to persuade her to save Swatch.

Everest opened her mouth to say something, when she noticed something … very subtle. Swatch’s eyes, though he was hanging mostly limp in the air, were flashing with light. Blinking on and off. On and off. She had a brief recall to when she had written a message in Morse code all that time ago, and suddenly the blinking made sense to her. Swatch was transmitting a short message, two words long:

SAVE

HER

Everest looked down, sorrow welling up in her chest as she took a deep, shaky breath. “I choose … Amanda … to be saved.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she fell to her knees, tears forming in her eyes. Spamton stood still for several moments, glitching, his glasses crackling with static. His emotions were not very clear, but whatever A.B.Y.S.S sensed in there … it was enough.

The entity cackled, lowering Amanda to the ground slowly before centering Swatch above itself. “As you wish. Swatch will never see his world free again.” A beam of piercing red light struck down over A.B.Y.S.S and Swatch, causing the collapsing wound on Swatch to instantly flare up. The corvid butler let out a pained scream as the wound ruptured.

Layer by layer, Swatch was slowly dissolved into nothing, a pile of scrap and organic material no longer recognizable as himself. It started with his feathers, and almost plastic skin, revealing a deep layer of lead-lined metallic plating, supposedly a measure he used to avoid detection by the CIFT throughout the years he was in hiding. Below that lay a complex layout of pipes, gears and wiring that flailed as the connections between them were snapped over and over. When it hit the last few organs Swatch still had that were organic, it left little but a sickly puddle of blood and bile.

Throughout the whole process, Everest could not bear to look at Swatch through his screams and death rattles. Spamton, however just stared onwards, absorbing every detail. But … finally, after wretchedly too long, it was over, and A.B.Y.S.S gave a mocking little bow before fading from sight.

Everest crawled over to Amanda, lifting her up and supporting her. The entity had kept its promise, to her luck, as the newly opened wound began to shrivel back into healthy flesh on the Lightner’s body. Amanda let out a few shaky breaths, seemingly not having been fully conscious for Swatch’s execution. Everest breathed quietly, “We’re getting out of here. Now.”

She let go of Amanda, seeing as she could steady herself now, and sprinted the remaining distance to the dias that held the Nail, this twisted little effigy. Everest grabbed it off the pedestal before throwing it onto the ground and stomping it as hard as she possible could. With a twist of her foot, the effigy let out a satisfying crunch and was destroyed.

Over the course of the next few moments, a blinding white light would flash in the far distance, slowly spreading to where the tower the group was standing on was. Before the light could consume them, Everest, Amanda and Rodney, and Spamton all disappeared. They awoke to find themselves trapped in three different pods of flesh, the pestilent black tumors A.B.Y.S.S had used to integrate them in the first place, now shriveling up. They ripped the weakened flesh away from themselves and crawled out, Amanda and Everest coughing as they crawled away. Spamton simply rose from his pod, gazed around for a moment, and then immediately flew off to somewhere in the city.

The dark fountain that gave life to the CIFT home world was no longer shining red, its corruption purged at last. Perhaps … things could start to recover now, if given the right care.

… But there was one who now was stuck wandering in the dark.

Marcus Baal trudged through the endless shadows of the Greater Void, his binary code for a body flickering unstably. It seemed that with the deletion of the SIMULACRUM, Marcus too got deleted with it. It was clear to the entities that surrounded him on all sides that he would not make it to the Market in time to be saved. But … what he would become interested all of them deeply.

[[System Reboot Successful]]

[[Running Diagnostic Scan for Reparation Protocols]]

[[Thank You, and Have a Regular Day!]]

#deltarune #creative writing #the CIFT #spamton #swatch #A.B.Y.S.S #Everest K. Addison #Amanda Highmore #A.B.Y.S.S Takeover #Finale

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orangedoorhingeinstorage · 1 year ago

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Rambly post about RW Qualia and mostly Five Pebbles

Old thing I wrote on a Padlet board of mine that I'm semi proud of, warning: rambly asf, also only took the base game as a basis. Enjoy!

The Ancient civilization and their descendants held their memories as something valuable, using pearls to archive them, those type being memory construct pearls. The concept of memories is closely tied to qualia: A personal experience, something that can’t be comprehended by another person completely other than the individual itself. They are sensations that are hard to convey through written language.

Five Pebble’s Pearl dialogue:

It's qualia, or a moment - a very short one. Someone is holding a black stone and twisting it slightly as they drag their finger across the rough surface. The entire sequence is shorter than a heartbeat, but the resolution is extraordinary.

A memory... but not really visual, or even concrete, in its character. It reminds of the feeling of a warm wind, but not the physical feeling but the... inner feeling. I don't think it has much utility unless you are doing some very fringe Regeneraist research.

With the advancement of bioengineering, they would take a step further and preserve raw memories and qualia of an individual in cabinet beasts at the memory crypts.

Shaded Citadel pearl:

“The assorted memories and qualia include:

Watching dust suspended in a ray of sun (Old age). Eating a very tasty meal (Young child). Defeating an opponent in a debate contest and being applauded by fellow team members (Late childhood/Early adulthood).”

Survivor and Monk’s campaign begin with memories of their time reunited with their family. Memories can also be seen in their dreams. And their journey consist of moving on from the past and those memories that hold them in the carnal plane and to enter into the spiritual one, as the many others who left their memories to be cherished by the carnal plane did, drawn to the void again and again, an endless drip drip drip

In Rain World, the previous civilization studied thoroughly the nature of the void, but for a time that was just restricted to only theory, and they only could understand the nature of transcendence after experiencing it themselves. To grasp the boundless infinite of the cosmic void.

Qualia also heavily influenced the naming convention of the descendants of the ancients and the iterators. With the benefactors names being more "ornate and lavish" due to their ego, great ambition and various titles. That being true to most of public figures.

As seen in 5P pearl dialogue, the iterators themselves share the concept of qualia, with Moon commenting on the Garbage Wastes pearl being hard to translate to you due to it being his personal experience.

Garbage Wastes pearl:“It’s written in internal language, or thoughts, so it is hard for me to translate so you would understand. It's a methodology for global ascension of course - quite good, although the Peripherists or the Slab Mongers certainly wouldn't agree!”.

It’s also seen in one Five Pebbles pearls that he tries to “experience” what is it being like a lower creature, to research the solution of the Great Problem, ascending the world. But even as an Iterator, he struggles to do so as he is godlike comparison, with his experience being different from the average creature. The Iterators know a lot, but they’re restrained due the taboo and their somewhat limited worldview.

Five Pebbles pearl dialogue: “It is the impression of being a small creature, like a wall climbing lizard, and looking up into the branches of a big tree. The last third is partly overwritten with a number series I vaguely recognize, but without my memory…”

Moon Survivor/Monk dialogue:“He's sick, you know. Being corrupted from the inside by his own experiments. Maybe they all are by now, who knows. We weren't designed to transcend, and it drives us mad.”

Moon receiving her first neuron:

We were supposed to help everyone, you know. Everything. That was our purpose: a great gift to the lesser beings of the world. When facing our inability to do so, we all reacted differently. Many with madness.

Outskirts Pearl:

This is true for all living things, but some actually break the cycle. That doesn't apply to you or me though, you are too entangled in your animal struggles, and for me not breaking that cycle is an integral part of the design. Our mantras keep repeating.

The best Five Pebbles can do is granting you the gift of communication, the mark of enligthment and lead you to the old path, as a definitive solution hasn't been found, and it is uncertain if SOS actually ever found one.

The bad news is that no definitive solution has been found. And every moment the equipment erodes to a new state of decay. I can't help you collectively, or individually. I can't even help myself.

Everyone had a theory. Some said that she did have a solution, but that the solution itself was somehow dangerous. These later became known as the Triangulators, who think that a solution should be inferred without being directly discovered. Some said she never had a solution, she just died. And when the systems broke down an erroneous signal was sent. One camp claimed that dying was the solution.

And that frustration of trying to comprehend the individual experience of everything in the World and solve the puzzle of The Great Problem leads him into trying to find a way out himself, not caring about others around him. Posing risk into himself and others.

FP: I'm tired of trying and trying. And angry that they left us here. The anger makes me even less inclined to solve their puzzle for them. Why do we do this?

EP: It is not a new idea, but it needs to be vented occasionally. What if there is no universal solution? What if perception is in fact existence, and when Sliver of Straw sent the triple positive it was not a mistake? What if crossing oneself out, or even just death, is the way? We need to consider the possibility.

#rain world #five pebbles #looks to the moon #rw ancients #One of the first attempts of mine to write something analytical so don't expect much #its a fun way to practice my english tho!#FP is misunderstood fr #way too many people babyfi him or say hes a straight up villain #I love him but I recognise the shit he did is straight up not ok lmao

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sinensis26 · 2 months ago

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Can you tell me about sustainable architecture based on indigenous knowledge. I am an anthropology major and this reminds me of decolonization and what it can do for everyone.

Hello! Heck yes! Theres a lot of Indigenous communities that did this, but an example that keeps coming up is what the Seminoles did in Florida. They built Chickees, which are smaller cabins on stilts driven very deeply into the mud and clay of wetlands. The logs they used were mostly cypress, whoch has antibacterial and waterproof properties.

One of the coolest aspect of chickees is that the Seminoles werent focused on just what was above the ground, but directly under the chickee. People tend to forget that most wetlands are actually really biodiverse in regards to botany, and grasses and sedges are both important for stability. So when the Seminoles were building, they were looking for wet areas that already had a lot of grasses growing in and around the water, and if they wanted the chickee to stand for longer (more than a few months), theyd strategically seed in grasses right under the chickee to reinforce the stilts over the course of the year.

So okay, now that brings us to today, and to modern building. We know that just throwing a slab of concrete down in the middle.of a wetland isnt gonna last, but we do it anyways and spend a LOT of time and resources repairing foundations, pumping out flooded basements, etc. But we do know how to build suspended floor buildings- exactly as it sounds, buildings on cement stilts driven deep into the ground. They look all slick and swoopy and futuristic, but its literally the same structure as chickees- foundation poles driven so deep that flowing water wont easily knock it over or rot it out.

And its not just that the building isnt impedeing the water flow- there needs to be botanic biodiversity as well. So yeah, we cant easily plant seeds under the suspended building, but we can heavily seed in those native grasses along the banks. Native plants are used to disturbances anyways and are evolved to not only roll with the punches, but also thrive on them. So now we get a building that people can use, not disturbing the water, and a bunch of native plants both supporting biodiversity and strengthening the waterway's shores.

TL/DR: When white folks came here from drier, flatter parts of the world, they ignored the basics that Indigenous people knew and did what worked back home. It created a hot mess, and instead of listening the experts, they wrote off massive building destruction as "normal".

(A lot of this is coming from memory, as Im trying to quickly type it out at work, so please also excuse the million typos that Im sure are in this).

#indigenous #indigenous communities #seminole #architecture #ecology

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xtruss · 2 years ago

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Centuries-old cypresses, planted by royal decree, still line miles of the Shu Roads in the lush hills of northern Sichuan. The roads were built about the same time as the Romans built the Appian Way. Photograph By Paul Salopek

This Ancient Marvel Rivaled Rome’s Intricate Network of Roads

Remnant slabs of stone laid more than 2,000 years ago pave forgotten trade and military byways across the mountains that divide northern and southern China.

— By Paul Salopek | Aril 21, 2023

Sword Gate Pass, Sichuan Provence, China“Over there!”

Discovery: For a decade, National Geographic Explorer Paul Salopek (Pictured above) has been walking the routes of human civilization worldwide. Now in China, he has stumbled upon remnants of an ancient network of roads. “They unspool like gigantic question marks over miles of jagged landscape,” he writes. Photograph By John Stanmeyer, National Geographic Image Collection

It is my walking partner Li Huipu. Li points to a line of cypresses near a highway that booms with the inescapable red cargo trucks of China. (All of modern China is a construction site.) A few miles farther on, she peers down from a concrete bridge into a steep, rainy mountain gorge. “It’s down there!” she calls out again. “See it?” She is a resourceful hunter. She a woman of Shu.

We are stalking the old Shu Roads.

What are Shu Roads—the Shǔdào?

They are squared slabs of stone—of slate? of granite?—about the size of small tabletops. Placed by hand in times long past, and numbering perhaps in the millions, they pave forgotten byways that cross the mountains dividing northern from southern China. Antique but sturdy paths. They unspool like gigantic question marks over miles of jagged landscape. They start and stop and fade into shadowed forests. Time machines. Broken mazes plied by phantoms. Sparse and solitary and moving. We try to walk them, Li and I, through the uplands of Sichuan Province.

In this way, we hopscotch through centuries. We skip between the chaos of the Warring States Period in Chinese history, circa the fourth-century B.C., and the distractions of the dynasty of TikTok.

Builders of the Shu Roads in Shaanxi Province confronted jagged obstacles such as Mount Hua Shan. Photograph By Tao Ming, Xinhua/Getty Images

The laying of the Shu Roads began when the Romans built the Appian Way—some 2,300 years ago—and for the same purposes: military control and trade. The vast Eastern Zhou empire was cracking apart. A subject kingdom called Qin, occupying much of modern-day Shaanxi Province, rose to power. It pushed new roads across the 12,000-foot Qin Mountains to attack a wealthy southern rival—the kingdom of Shu—centered in today’s Sichuan. Rich in salt, silk and iron, Shu expanded its own roads to better defend its mountain frontiers. But Shu lost in 316 B.C. And all these stone-paved roads, improved with post offices and caravan stops, became arteries of imperial integration. This was when China’s center of gravity lay in the highlands of the west, and not (as today) in the hot, low plains and cities of the east.

A hundred generations of traders commuted along the Shu Roads. They pushed “wooden oxen”—wheelbarrows. Armies fitted in leather armor marched atop the branching network of flagstones. Sometimes, they torched wooden sections of the road—miles of extraordinary plank walkways suspended from canyon walls—as they retreated. Farmers hustled their goods along the roads. (One segment was called the Lychee Road, dedicated to a royal concubine’s fondness of the fruit.) Poets and sages walked the roads. So did deposed kings, refugees, addled foreigners, and elderly farm women tacking against gravity under bundles of firewood. (A few last of these still walk the trails today.) In China’s relict wild mountains, giant pandas, red pandas, gnu-like takin, and six-foot salamanders also prowl the Shu Roads. Today these weedy paths go mostly nowhere.

A reconstruction of plank roads—an engineering feat more than two millennia old—hangs above Mingyue Gorge, in Sichuan Province. Photograph By Paul Salopek

We Start Our Trek in Li’s hometown, Chengdu, the ancient capital of Shu and the southern pole of the Shu Roads. Today it is a megalopolis of 16 million set in the lush Sichuan Basin. (This agricultural zone is exalted in classical Chinese literature as Tiānfǔ zhi Guó—the "Country of Heaven.") Li walks me by her childhood apartment. By her primary school. (“It’s much smaller than I remember.”) By the first McDonald’s in her neighborhood. She points out newer layers of Chinese franchises including Mixue Bincheng, a low-market bubble tea outlet launched with a $438 loan from the founder’s grandmother and now a billion-dollar company whose mascot, a rotund snowman, sings “I love you, you love me, Mixue Bincheng sweety!” to the public domain melody of “Oh! Susannah,” the minstrel song composed by Pennsylvanian Stephen Collins Foster in 1848.

Left: Eighth-century poet Du Fu spent years wandering the Shu Roads. Illustration Via Pictures From History, Bridgeman Images Right: Map

The Shu Roads welded north to south China. They also became tangents of longing. They delivered art. In the eighth century, Du Fu, a titan of the gilded age of Chinese classical poetry, survived on boiled tree leaves in a hut in Chengdu. Exhausted from escaping rebellions, constant joblessness, and years of itinerant wanderings along pitiless Shu Roads, Du Fu mocked his so-called-poet’s life:

Far from the market, my food has little taste,

My poor home can offer only stale and cloudy wine.

Consent to have a drink with my elderly neighbour,

At the fence I'll call him, then we'll finish it off.

His contemporary, the traveling bard Li Bai, lamented his journey into exile along the slippery roads up the Qinglin Mountains:

The Shu Road is as perilous and difficult as the way to the Green Heavens.

The ruddy faces of those who hear the story of it turn pale.

There is not a cubit's space between the mountain tops and the sky.

In Chengdu, the Shu Roads dream mutely under asphalt. Li and I hike toward their northern terminus some 400 miles away, to Xi’an, the capital of Shaanxi Province.

— Tracing 2,000-year-old byways through rugged terrain in western China.

vimeo

Near Minyang we cross the ghostly path of a British traveler in a long Manchurian dress.

Sometimes Isabella Bird walked. Sometimes Bird rode a chair hauled by laborers who cushioned their aches with opium.

“A thousand years ago it must have been a noble work,” the British traveler wrote of a still-bustling Shu Road in The Yangtze Valley and Beyond, a record of her travels in western China in 1897. “It is nominally sixteen feet wide, the actual flagged roadway measuring eight feet. The bridges are built solidly of stone. The ascents and descents are made by stone stairs. More than a millennium ago an emperor planted cedars at measured distances on both sides, the beautiful red-stemmed, weeping cedar of the province . . . Each tree bears the imperial seal and the district magistrates count them annually.”

They still do.

To locate old Shu Roads, Li and I seek out colonnades of big trees linking village guesthouses and gritty truck stops. They aren’t cedars. They are cypresses (Cupressus). A few are 800 or more years old, and each one is tagged by the Sichuan reforestation bureau. In the wet mists of Sichuan their massive black boughs drip their own rain.

Isabella Bird wrote sympathetically of rural Chinese. She did complain about the 19th-century bureaucracy. Qing Dynasty officials demanded her passport every few miles, she grumbled, copying her particulars on clipboards of slate. This also still happens. At Wulian, an empty inn cannot host us. They aren’t registered to receive foreigners. Two police drive us to their station. They help us fill out the necessary paperwork.

“Why are you walking?” the older cop asks, skeptically.

“It's a walking project,” the younger cop reminds him. He rolls his eyes at his square partner. “It’s about walking.”

Marco Polo may have paced off Shu Roads in the 13th century. He supposedly journeyed from Beijing to Chengdu: “Having traveled those twenty stages through a mountainous country, you reach a plain on the borders of Manzi . . . where you see many fine mansions, castles, and small towns. The inhabitants live by agriculture. In the city there are factories, particularly of very fine cloths and crapes or gauzes.”

The first and only empress of China, the supremely brilliant and capably ruthless Wu Zetian, may or may not have been born on a Shu Road five centuries earlier. The northern Sichuanese city of Guangyuan claims her in any case. Its museum of mannequins celebrates the world’s “top 10 queens.”

We trudge on, Li Huipu and I. Stone paths scalloped by the hooves of long-dead pack horses point us north through dozy river towns and hamlets of geriatric farmers. Local place names contain characters for the words yi (post station) and pu (market station), suggesting waypoints along a great, dissolving road system of antiquity.

At Sword Gate Pass, we climb a Shu kingdom fortress so famed it has spawned its own Chinese proverb: “One man at the pass keeps 10,000 at bay.” Standing at the summit, I scan the green hills once again for telltale lines of cypresses, knowing that the world they once shaded came undone a century or more ago because no fierce battlements could keep out the whine of a car, or the thin wire of the telegraph.

#Vimeo

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kerabond · 4 months ago

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Bonding Ceramic

Bonding ceramic mosaics on paper or mesh or most types of ceramic tiles (quarry tiles, single- fired and clinker tiles) on ordinary concrete slabs or suspended concrete slabs completely cured and stable, conventional renders or cement mortar walls, gypsum substrates, and anhydrite screeds as long as they are dry and treated with a priming coat of Primer - best shampoo for bond repair.

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chrisrock06 · 5 months ago

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Advantages Of Strip Out Contractors And Services

Commercial strip-out contractors are necessary if you plan to renovate or restructure your workplace because they may perform indoor strip out tasks as an integral part of their deconstruction solutions.

Large volumes of rubbish and outdated furniture can be destroyed or removed from your business, and they will offer you complete waste disposal services for a reasonable price.

You can employ such providers to eliminate the internal components of your workplace or home. Strip out contractors are one example of an internal demolishing facility.

For instance, if you decide to remodel your workplace, you can use a strip-out firm to extract the components from your company's deteriorated walls, roofs, and floors. They may also provide a wide range of advantages, including:

Strip out contractors can take down brick walls, acrylic barriers, or concrete slabs. To safeguard your staff and secure your family members, you must demolish buildings like this if you discover any significant harm to the walls. In this situation, strip-out businesses can assist you in carefully removing such dividers.

Most workplaces have suspended roofs, and all these roofs occasionally sustain harm or leakage. In this situation, you'll have to rebuild your ceiling's roof structure and tiling with newer models.

You cannot reach your corporate or domestic ceiling independently; therefore, you must contact quality, experienced strip out contractors.

A reputable strip out contractor will remove the air conditioner system and its mechanical components, including pipes, wires, and light panels. It will eventually install the very same in your new apartment.

In this context, you may also engage in air conditioning restoration services, but in most cases, you have to employ and pay these individuals directly. The most outstanding alternative to reduce costs and ensure that the task is completed on time is strip-out services.

Wooden floorboards deteriorate and are damaged by dust in the air; thus, you should regularly clean such surfaces. You might need to replace your hardwood flooring, tiling, carpeting, and acrylic after a particular time.

Even if the flooring is made of marble, you must fix it since cracks might form in the ground. In this case, it is preferable to employ the top strip out contractor, who will replace your surface layer with a modern one. Additionally, they take out the garbage and safely dispose of it.

Recycling the items can reduce our earth's carbon emissions, and strip-out contractors will replace your old domestic supplies. These experts can repurpose the old furnishings in your workplace to manufacture new pieces while saving you money.

The necessity at the end

You must select a strip out contractor that offers environmentally sustainable solutions and adheres to all safety regulations throughout the job. To protect the personnel, they must take extra precautions to minimise dirt and disturbance.

You can find these strips of businesses on the web, and after evaluating their qualities, you can pick out the most suitable one.

#strip out contractor

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concreterepairsmelbournes-blog · 6 months ago

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A Complete Guide to Carbon Fibre Solutions Concrete for Strengthening

With its carbon fibre concrete strengthening, remarkable chemical resistance, extensive temperature tolerance, and minimal thermal expansion, carbon fibre provides great adaptability. Studies on the subject of service life indicate that carbon fibre-reinforced polymers are more promising than agamid and glass fibres due to their high temperature tolerance, low thermal expansion, and corrosion resistance.

The Industrial concreting in Melbourne has an unlimited number of uses since it can be shaped into infinite forms and sizes and created at different densities. It may be formed into a variety of composite parts and components and is frequently moulded into tubes, cloth, and fabric. Due to these features, carbon fibre is becoming a more well-liked and popular substitute for aluminium and stainless steel in the avionics, automotive and construction sectors.

Constructing the Land Below the Local Influence

Not only is concrete a worldwide phenomenon, but it also plays a major role in forming Australia's infrastructure. Imagine packing over to get a sense of this! Due of its rapid hardening period, it must be made close to the location of application. Additionally, the gravel and sand that go into its makeup are usually obtained locally. This supports local jobs and initiatives, in addition to minimising transportation expenses.

Numerous qualities characterise concrete, including strength, resilience, pliability, energy economy, and affordability. Due of these characteristics, it is the preferred material for a wide range of constructions, including large bridges, hospitals, and stores. The possibilities for architecture and infrastructure are endless when working with concrete.

Concrete Structures That Strengthen the Fibres

Requirements for strengthening include structures that have undergone usage changes, are experiencing deterioration, or have construction or design flaws. Carbon fibre components are also becoming more common for externally reinforcing concrete buildings. They might serve as the columns' exterior reinforcement. This strengthening method lessens the requirement for further installation and anchoring work, which may be an expensive and time-consuming task.

This removes the requirement to tear down and rebuild existing constructions, including suspended slabs, structural columns, and concrete beams. When a building has to support heavier loads or when the design is inadequate, this kind of structural reinforcement is incredibly economical.

Source

#carbon fibre concrete strengthening #industrial concreting Melbourne

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formworksnova · 6 months ago

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Concrete Slab Formwork Systems - Novaformworks

Concrete Slab formworks have various end uses such as column formworks, wall formwork, slab formwork, ore-designed culverts, etc. They can be used interchangeably across mediums. Owing to their modular design, and sustainability, they are used by various businesses in their construction projects.

#nova plastic formwork #slab formwork #slab and beam #concrete slab formwork

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speedframewa1 · 1 year ago

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Efficient and Durable: Steel Frames and Trusses | Suspended Concrete Slab System Perth WA - Speed Frame WA

Efficiency and durability form the backbone of modern construction, and when combined with steel frames and trusses in a suspended concrete slab system, the results are nothing short of exceptional. In Perth, WA, Speed Frame WA has emerged as a trailblazer in delivering such efficient and durable building solutions.

The incorporation of steel frames and trusses brings multiple benefits to the suspended concrete slab system. The strength-to-weight ratio of steel ensures superior structural integrity, allowing for longer spans and reduced support requirements, ultimately optimizing space utilization and design flexibility. Moreover, steel's resistance to corrosion ensures the longevity of the building, making it a cost-effective and sustainable choice for projects of all scales.

Speed Frame WA expertise in this cutting-edge construction approach has made them a go-to resource for architects and builders seeking unmatched efficiency and durability. With their seamless integration of steel frames and trusses into suspended concrete slabs, buildings in Perth stand tall with unrivaled strength and resilience, setting new standards for modern architecture that stands the test of time.

#concrete floor systems #suspended concrete slab #speedslab perth western australia #steel frames and trusses #steel frame building #roof trusses perth #suspended concrete slab systems

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speedyestimating · 9 months ago

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Concrete Estimating

We specialise in estimating all kinds of concrete work including suspended slabs. We can help you with concrete estimating.

#concrete estimating

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devotedlydeliciouscollection · 9 months ago

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Strategies to Prevent Flooding in Your Home

Take these expert-recommended precautions both inside and outside your home to be ready for flooding. They'll all aid in your preparation, some of which you may do yourself and some of which call for a pro.

Discuss about grading. Make sure the area is properly graded away from the house to prevent surplus water from regularly entering your property. Utilize garden drainage options as well to manage runoff and safeguard vegetation.

Pay attention to runoff. To guarantee appropriate water drainage, keep leaves, debris, and animal nests away from gutters and downspouts. In severe weather, a little routine maintenance pays big benefits.

Consider surfaces outside.��Think about front yard and backyard landscaping that reduces the amount of impermeable surfaces. Flooding can be lessened by planting native plants and erecting swales or other natural barriers to absorb excess water.

Elevate the equipment. It is advised to elevate outdoor equipment, such as heat pumps and air conditioner compressors. He continues, noting that you must confirm that the work complies with any applicable local building codes in your area.

Pay attention to the gas tanks. Install cheap ground anchors that are attached across the top of the tank with metal straps, or secure outside fuel tanks to a sizable concrete slab heavy enough to withstand the force of flooding.

Employ barriers and flood vents. Dry floodproofing prevents floodwater from entering a building by erecting a barrier, typically across doors or windows. It's critical to evaluate your property, the degree of flood danger, and your local rules prior to selecting a particular application.

Set up the sump pump. Water that builds up in crawl spaces and basements can be removed with the installation of a sump pump. Make sure the pump is installed correctly, serviced on a regular basis, and equipped with a battery backup in case of an electrical outage.

Sewer lines should be observed. In order to stop floodwater from backing up into your drains, install check valves in your sewer lines. In the event of a flood, this can lessen the chance of sewage backup. To complete the installation, use a qualified plumber.

Seal the walls. Watch out for potential entry points for water and take action to prevent it. To stop water seepage, apply waterproof sealants to the floors and walls of your basement.

Protect indoor equipment. Certain objects, including water heaters, cove security detectors and HVAC units, can be suspended from ceiling joists or placed on walls if the appliance is made for mounting and the ceiling or walls are sturdy enough to hold its weight.

Obtain an insurance. It is usually necessary to obtain a separate policy for flood damage since standard homeowners' insurance usually does not cover it. It's a means of safeguarding your house and possessions.

Not only may flooding cause damage to your house, but it can also result in injuries and even fatalities, therefore protecting it against it is crucial.

#Flooding #Prevention Tips #Flooding Prevention #Home Improvement #Home Upgrade #Home Automation #Home Renovation #Smart Home #Modern Home #Home Security System #Security System #Home Safety Tips #Homeowners

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insulationking · 11 months ago

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Insulating Innovation: Unlocking the Potential of Knauf PIR Laminate

Knauf PIR laminate represents a significant advancement in insulation technology, offering unparalleled thermal performance, energy efficiency, and versatility. As a leading solution in the construction industry, Knauf PIR laminate provides builders, architects, and homeowners with a reliable and effective way to enhance the thermal comfort and energy efficiency of buildings. In this comprehensive guide, we will delve into the features, benefits, and applications of Knauf PIR laminate, as well as explore techniques for maximizing its potential in various construction projects.

Understanding Knauf PIR Laminate

Knauf PIR laminate is a type of insulation board made from polyisocyanurate (PIR) foam core sandwiched between two facing materials, typically aluminum foil or reinforced kraft paper. PIR foam is renowned for its excellent thermal insulating properties, high compressive strength, and low thermal conductivity. The facing materials provide additional durability, moisture resistance, and ease of installation, making Knauf PIR laminate a versatile and cost-effective solution for insulating walls, roofs, floors, and other building components.

Benefits of Knauf PIR Laminate

Superior Thermal Performance: Knauf PIR laminate offers superior thermal insulation compared to traditional insulation materials such as fiberglass or mineral wool. Its low thermal conductivity helps reduce heat transfer through building envelopes, resulting in lower energy consumption and improved thermal comfort for occupants.

Energy Efficiency: By enhancing the thermal efficiency of buildings, Knauf PIR laminate contributes to overall energy savings and reduced heating and cooling costs. Buildings insulated with Knauf PIR laminate require less energy to maintain comfortable indoor temperatures, leading to lower utility bills and reduced carbon emissions.

Versatility: Knauf PIR laminate is available in various thicknesses, sizes, and facing materials to suit different insulation requirements and construction applications. It can be used in new construction or retrofit projects to insulate walls, roofs, floors, ceilings, and other building components, providing flexibility and adaptability in design and construction.

Durability and Longevity: Knauf PIR laminate is engineered for durability and long-term performance, with excellent resistance to moisture, mold, and pests. Its robust construction and high compressive strength ensure that it maintains its insulation properties over time, providing reliable thermal protection for the lifespan of the building.

Ease of Installation: Knauf PIR laminate is lightweight and easy to handle, making it quick and straightforward to install in various construction applications. It can be cut to size with a utility knife or saw and adhered or mechanically fixed to building substrates using appropriate adhesives or fasteners, saving time and labor costs during installation.

Fire Performance: Knauf PIR laminate exhibits excellent fire performance properties, with low flammability and smoke generation characteristics. It meets stringent fire safety standards and building code requirements, providing added peace of mind for building owners and occupants.

Applications of Knauf PIR Laminate

Wall Insulation: Knauf PIR laminate is commonly used to insulate exterior and interior walls in residential, commercial, and industrial buildings. It helps maintain consistent indoor temperatures, reduce thermal bridging, and enhance overall energy efficiency.

Roof Insulation: Knauf PIR laminate is ideal for insulating pitched and flat roofs, providing effective thermal insulation and moisture resistance. It helps prevent heat loss through the roof, minimize condensation, and extend the lifespan of roofing materials.

Floor Insulation: Knauf PIR laminate can be installed under concrete slabs, timber floors, or suspended floors to provide thermal insulation and moisture protection. It helps create a comfortable and energy-efficient indoor environment while minimizing heat loss through the floor.

Ceiling Insulation: Knauf PIR laminate is suitable for insulating ceilings and attics, helping to prevent heat transfer between conditioned and unconditioned spaces. It improves energy efficiency, reduces thermal bridging, and enhances overall comfort levels in the building.

Facade Insulation: Knauf PIR laminate can be used as external insulation in facade systems, providing thermal insulation, weather protection, and architectural enhancement. It helps improve the energy performance of buildings, reduce thermal bridging, and enhance the visual appeal of facades.

Maximizing the Potential of Knauf PIR Laminate

Proper Installation: Follow manufacturer guidelines and best practices for installing Knauf PIR laminate to ensure optimal performance and longevity. Pay attention to proper sealing and vapor barrier installation to prevent moisture infiltration and maximize thermal efficiency.

Seam Sealing: Properly seal seams and joints between insulation boards to minimize air leakage and thermal bridging. Use compatible sealants or tapes to create a continuous and airtight insulation barrier, particularly in high-performance building envelopes.

Thermal Bridging Mitigation: Minimize thermal bridging by installing Knauf PIR laminate continuously across building envelopes, including around windows, doors, and other penetrations. Use insulation materials with higher thermal resistance values in critical areas to reduce heat loss and improve energy efficiency.

Moisture Management: Implement proper moisture management strategies to prevent condensation and moisture buildup within building assemblies. Ensure adequate ventilation, vapor barriers, and drainage systems to protect Knauf PIR laminate and maintain its insulation properties.

Regular Maintenance: Perform regular inspections and maintenance of Knauf PIR laminate to identify and address any damage, deterioration, or moisture problems. Replace damaged or degraded insulation boards promptly to maintain thermal performance and prevent potential issues.

Conclusion

Knauf PIR laminate represents a groundbreaking innovation in insulation technology, offering unmatched thermal performance, energy efficiency, and versatility for a wide range of construction applications. By harnessing the benefits of Knauf PIR laminate and implementing best practices in installation and maintenance, builders, architects, and homeowners can unlock its full potential to create high-performance, sustainable, and comfortable buildings. With its superior thermal insulation properties, durability, and ease of installation, Knauf PIR laminate is poised to revolutionize the way buildings are insulated and constructed, paving the way for a more energy-efficient and sustainable built environment.

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