I would be grateful to the experts in old furniture for their help in identifying this old chair. Judging by the design, it is from the late 19th century - early 20th century. Something very similar to classic Austrian design like Thonet and Otto Wagner. Perhaps you can identify it more clearly?
https://imgur.com/a/BhTDqFg
The chair was found in western Ukraine and these are the territories that were once part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. That's what made me think of the above manufacturers. As well as the design itself, in the end.
Thank you!

The kind you see in mid century mod furniture. Can’t find how to make panels or individual pyramids. All I have so far is long square stock cut at 33 degrees (or whatever) and rotated to make the pyramid then cut off the stick. Difficult because I want at least 2” pyramids. So help me out Reddit. What’s the search term I’m not using?

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Edited by WaveOfWire
- - - - -
Two days… It had been two days that Tracy had gone to sleep while Harrison was working, only to come back in the morning to see him still in the workshop. She knew he was damn productive, sure, but that really couldn’t be healthy. Apparently, it had something to do with the weird bowl of orange… soup… that Cera gave him. No way was it just caffeine; any amount of the stuff would have been filtered out of his system by now. He mentioned a tingling feeling too…
Damn, she did not know enough about drugs to even start assuming what that massive alien had Harrison fucked up on. At least the scanner said he was ‘fine’—if you ignore the other glaring issues the machine brought up. Plus, he said he didn’t mind it. Either way, he managed to complete the weaving component and a few other electrical backbones of the fabricator last night, so the project was practically done, and after seeing the engineer work himself half to death, she was dead-set on finishing it.
She was currently tits-deep into the upper manufacturing portion of the towering machine. It took a tall step-stool—on top of the nearby desk—for her to push her small shoulders through the even smaller access panels high on the everything-printer. It was difficult to fit her torso in, but she managed, holding a flashlight between her teeth as she fiddled with a stubborn series of mechanical ‘hands.’ Nothing new. The situation reminded her of the ‘shop back on Mars; it had the same ever-present scent of copper and industrial sealant. All that was missing was her dad’s ancient tunes blasting through some shitty speakers… Hold on…
The modular component in her grip was successfully attached with a resonating thock. Tracy squirmed out of the dim wire-filled crevice, trying her best to not rip her only tank-top on any bolts or corners, and getting a face-full of the bright flood-lights illuminating the workshop. She scowled and blocked out the searing light with a hand, but she was a bit too late to avoid going half-blind.
“Are the mechanical manipulators in?” Harrison grunted, poking his head out underneath the printer’s floor-adjacent maintenance hatch. She looked down at him as she tried to blink off the spots in her vision. His hair was messy, barely kept in line by his habit of combing through it with his fingers. The areas around his eyes were dark and sunken… Guess that’s what two all-nighters did to a man. He’d be seeing the hat man or start hallucinating if he didn’t get any sleep soon… but then again, the two of them were so close to finishing the fabricator…
“You bet.” She gave him a thumbs up, slamming the panel cover closed. “Feel free to test it.”
He nodded and slid back underneath the machine. “Gotcha”
She gently stepped off the stool and slid off the side of the desk, stretching herself out. If her piss-poor sitting posture or her tank-top puppies hadn’t already fucked her spine up, bending over backward to build this fabricator sure as hell would. She sat down next to the panel where Harrison resided, resting her back against the fabrication tower. Her excited voice broke the muffled noises of the engineer’s work. “So… Harrison?”
“Hmm—”
“—Mind if I play some music?”
The sounds from the hatch stopped, followed by his muffled, shocked tone echoing from beneath the fabricator. “You have music!?”
She smirked at seeing the expression on his face when his head popped out again. “I sure do… Did you seriously not download any to your data pad?”
He slipped out from beneath the fabricator fully, huffing as he took a knee beside her. The scent of melded rubber, wire, and his liquid labor reached her nose not-so-unpleasantly. “You would not believe how much of a pain it is to repair an entire barracks without it… So, yeah, I didn’t.”
“Sooooooooo, whatcha wanna listen to? I’ve got almost everything on here—besides the super niche, of course.” She pulled her data pad out, swiping to the massive music folder
“You wouldn’t like the kinda music I listen to; It’s ancient.”
She gave him a lighthearted, annoyed glare. “Welcome to the club… Now what’ll it be?”
“It’s Old Earth kind of ancient… but alright” He looked up at the ceiling in thought, lips pursed. “Do you have anything from Styx or Sweet?”
She stared at him incredulously, her smirk turning into a fully-fledged smile. “Oh my God. You are an absolute dork! You actually listen to Golden Age music?”
His brows raised, accusatory. “And you somehow know exactly who those bands were and what age of Old Earth music they came from?”
She smugly leaned in closer. “That’s because I’m just as much of a nerd with that kinda music as you apparently are.” She quickly looked upward, addressing the workshop AI. “Sebas, connect nearby speakers to my data pad’s audio.” Tracy elbowed the engineer lightly as the PA system chirped its affirmation. “Now, Mr. Golden Age music, which albums do ya want me to queue up?”
- - - - -
The two of them listened to music for hours, tossing on songs they liked as they came to mind while they worked. Harrison had a ton of recommendations that spanned all over the Golden Ages and some twenty-first century classics. She didn’t even know half of them, but she was vibing either way, adding on her own taste by intermingling some older rock tracks and newer electronic beats. The playlist was steadily built up as the day went on. Thank God her dad showed her a vast array of tunes; she might not have been able to keep up with the engineer if her old man hadn't.
It made the work go by so fast, their conversations blurring as they jumped from topic to topic. They discussed whatever came to mind—old hobbies, old jobs, and old interests. A lot was left behind in Sol… At least she knew that the only other human on the planet was more interesting than a soulless workaholic. It turned out that he was a pretty big history buff, and he apparently read a lot about the colonization of the Sol system and the various wars of independence thereafter. Curious, she asked where the interest stemmed from, and he explained that his grandfather was an admiral in the Slavic-Europan deep-ice submarine fleet, which explained how Harrison’s mother was able to afford to immigrate to Mars from Europa.
He could also play an acoustic guitar, and, unfortunately for Tracy, he wasn’t even the slightest bit interested in printing one out, citing that it was a waste of time and material that would be better used elsewhere. That didn’t stop her from writing a note on her data pad to do so later, though. She hadn’t seen someone play one of those in years—the last time was probably in some old music video from the early twenty-second century. What a shame. She would have liked to hear some of the Europan songs his grandmother taught him.
On the bright side, the man seemed to take an interest in her odd hobbies. He brought up the folder of 3D models that she accidentally uploaded to the inter-module system and asked where she got the inspiration for what was in it. Boy, was he not ready for her ‘WarHalberd40k’ lore dump. Props to the guy for not standing up and leaving the workshop throughout her rambling. He even asked questions about the different factions and their weapons, which she was more than happy to talk about.
She also ended up going over the other franchises and hobbies she was interested in, such as robotics and the like. The only interruptions to their chat were the occasional Akula or Craftsman asking for insight regarding the various tasks he had allotted to them, or Shar coming in to check up on Harrison between guard shifts.
The new dynamic of the group was pretty interesting, to say the least. Tracy hadn’t been out to interact with the whole lot of Malkrin, but she definitely noticed how they treated the engineer. They’d started to look up to him in a way ever since he started showing off technology. In a little over two days, the man had shown them that he could provide the materials for a brick house, fine clothing—especially by the alien’s standards—armor, and delicious food. That wasn’t even mentioning the other benefits the technician heard a few of the ‘banished’ talking about over their meals: heating, electric lights, and other assorted machines.
She’d be feeling pretty happy about herself if she was in his position, having so many look up to him and be grateful at the same time. He seemed to view it a lot more robotically, however, only striving to get the basics done. Luckily for him, his basics were their luxury.
That wasn’t all there was to the topic; the engineer lamented about how the colony was going through food just as quickly as materials. The meals weren’t the direct issue he had, more that he had to start focusing on long-term resource harvesting rather than directly preparing for a literal horde of monsters—which wasn’t exactly ideal. It was a good thing that they just so happened to take on an influx of Malkrin then…
Either way, they finally finished the ‘totally legal modification’ for the fabricator, meaning they could at least partially address the latter half of his worries. The whole process of ripping out an old printer and replacing the parts for a new one felt a lot easier than she imagined… even if it took her at least forty-eight hours to complete it… with help from Harrison. Maybe that was why it felt so easy… She supposed the colony overseers didn’t choose the man for no reason, so his skills made sense.
“So… what do we want to print out first?” Tracy questioned, having finished testing the last major component.
The engineer stretched his arms up into the air and rotated his shoulders, then pulled back the desk’s chair and took a seat. “I’ve had just one thing in mind since the start of this whole project.”
Her brows raised in a mix of excitement and curiosity. She leaned forward, looking at the computer monitor from over his shoulder. “Oh? What’s that, then?”
A smirk formed along his cheek, the computer mouse rapidly clicking through the blueprint folder. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about what kind of firearm we need since I started dabbling in belt-fed weapon systems.” He opened one final file, a short loading bar preceding the exploded assembly view of… “An M2 Browning machine gun. It’s more than powerful enough to kill in one shot, while also being capable of fully-automatic fire, with a capacity of however many rounds we want in a belt-box.”
“Uh…huh…” She gave a skeptical nod and took a step back, not exactly sold on the idea. “It looks ancient. It’s kinetic, right? Why aren’t we using energy-based weapons? Don’t we have a gunpowder shortage coming up?”
He moved his chair off to the side to look back at her. “We just can’t; Simple as. We’ll need who knows how many more AI cores before we can get started on that level of equipment, Trace,” he huffed, returning his gaze to the specifications of the firearm. “This isn’t the most ‘modern’ weapon we can make, but its twenty-first century counterpart helps with an improved design… somewhat. And, as I said before, it should be more than capable of killing a bug in one shot, so Shar can just tap-fire it to save ammunition.”
Her head tilted quizzically. “Shar?”
“Yup,” he returned confidently. “It’s the perfect weapon for her.”
She raised a brow. “How so?”
He held his hand up, counting his reasons on his fingers. “She’s always on the front line with a shield, she can absolutely handle the weight and recoil, her four arms make reloading it simple, plus she’ll need something with range and power that isn’t a spear. So, why not? And, if for some reason, she doesn’t want to use it, we can just convert it into a turret—which is something I was planning on doing anyways with however more M2s we print out later.”
“I doubt she’ll say no to any gun you give her,” Tracy chuckled while shaking her head, inadvertently causing her bangs to cover her eyes.
“Fair enough,” he conceded with a bob of his head. “What do you think, then? What kinda weapons do you have in mind?”
She reapplied her goggles into an impromptu hairband, feeling a smirk cross her face. “Thought you’d never ask. What purpose do we need these guns to fulfill? Hordes I’m guessing?”
“That’s the idea, yeah. That doesn’t mean they all need to be machine guns, though.” He tapped the belt-fed shotgun beside him.
“Well, lemme see what we’re working with first.” She suddenly stepped forward, leaning over Harrison’s seat to access the keyboard and mouse. Her arms briefly rubbed against him, forcing him to roll his chair backward. She suppressed a giggle at seeing his incredulous frown.
Her eyes quickly traced the hundreds of individual files, clicking through all sorts of folders, each arranged from pre-twenty-first century ‘antiques,’ to more modern iterations of kinetics and particle weaponry. There was… a lot on there—almost too much to reasonably comb through. Why? Did the colony overseers just say ‘fuck it’ and put whatever they could find on here? Were they expecting the pioneers to make a museum of everything?
She sighed, standing up straight and facing Harrison. “Y’know, I’m actually impressed you managed to find that M2-whatever in there…”
He shifted in his seat, resting an elbow on the desk. “Yup, there’s a lot. I’m almost tempted to just make several of those machine guns and just call it a day, but I feel like that’d be too much of a strain on resources, no?”
“I don’t really know enough about how you fight those spider-crab things, or how to get more gunpowder, so… maybe?” She shrugged, biting her cheek in contemplation. “You might just wanna make a few smaller caliber weapons… like, uh… those old kinetic service rifles. If your pump-action shotgun works fine, I’m sure some normal guns would work just fine for now, right?”
He hardily gripped his firearm, hauling it up to his lap. “Depends on what you mean by ‘smaller caliber.’ The whole reason why the KS-23 here works—” he pulled out a massive shell from the ammo belt, displaying it on his palm. “—is because the twenty-three-millimeter round has enough energy transfer to mess up any bug's shell and insides. I’d say the smallest rounds we could use would be point-two-forty-three caliber to get any similar results.”
Brief flickers of grungy orange shells and gnashing teeth marred Tracy’s sight. She forcibly suppressed them, distracting herself with dry humor and a strained laugh. “Guess those fuckers can really take a punch, huh?”
He shook his head somberly. “I couldn’t imagine going up against them without a gun… Anyway, I like your idea of a standard rifle for now. Then, when we have some product lines up, we can go a little more in depth into personal weapons.”
“So are you gonna take one?” She hopped up on the desk, letting her legs swing off the side.
“Don’t think so, no. I’ll stick with my shotty.” The internals of the heavily modified weapon rattled as he held it up and inspected it. “Doesn’t mean I’ll keep it as is. I’m thinking of printing a laser aiming module so I can point-fire it accurately, and maybe a melee-oriented muzzle brake or a lighter chassis to reduce weight… Not sure though.”
She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees, her cheeks in her palms. “Melee-oriented? Oooooh, like a chain-sword or something?”
His short chuckle coerced a smirk to her face. “No, not like that. More something to use as a bludgeoning tool. Right before the blood-moon, I ended up getting just as much use out of this shotgun as a hammer than as a… well, a shotgun.”
“That’s pretty fuckin’ metal. So are you just gonna make the barrel into a giant bayonet?”
He nodded. “Not exactly a bayonet, but something more like a door-breaching break.”
A short silence settled on their conversation, the faint sounds of the fabricator’s hum and distant woodwork coming to light. Right, there was an outside world… She’d been too caught up talking to Harrison for however many hours it had been. She wondered how successful the fisherwomen were in collecting, and how things had been for the others working on the wood storage shack. Maybe it was already completed? The sun peered through the cargo bay door, proving that it was only about midday. What else would they work on today?
“Hey,” she ventured.
“Hm?” the engineer hummed, his eyes focused on the monitor beside the technician.
She scooted closer to his keyboard. “What’re we doing after this?”
“What do you mean?”
She leaned backward, propping herself up on two hands. “Project wise; what’s the next big thing?”
“Uhmmm…” he muttered, interacting with the computer for a few more seconds before finally meeting her gaze. “Well, I’ve just allocated the fabricator to print out the M2, three FALs—wood furniture, of course—then there’s the magazines and ammunition, so we’ve got a lot of time to kill. The next big thing is definitely going to be metal procurement, and— Oh, right!” Harrison stopped mid-sentence, reaching into his backpack and pulling out several finger-sized metallic cubes, a sudden fire in his eyes. “Okay, so a while ago, during an encounter with three colossi, Shar and Akula found a cave with some ‘surface’ metal deposits. I took a piece off to analyze, but never got the chance to until last night. Anyway, we don’t have any machines to examine the ore, so I made use of the recycler and broke it down to its baser components.”
She nodded along, seeing where he was going with his explanation. “I’m guessing those shiny cubes are the metals from the ore?”
“Sure is. So, as it turns out, we have a pretty damn close supply of not only iron, but also, zinc, sulfur, and a small amount of cadmium. I talked with Sebas about it and did a little research. We believe it’s something akin to sphalerite, given its composition and looks, which implies it’s a sedimentary exhalative deposit. That means there must have been some volcanic…”
Harrison continued talking about underwater deposits and ancient rock formations, bringing up some theories brought forward by the now 4-AI-core-powered Sebas, delving into the current land mass’ history and possible ore output. A lot of it went over the tradewoman’s head, but she still listened intently… Honestly, she could have listened to the man talk about finding metals for hours. It was sort of like the podcasts she used to listen to while completing colonist training, but even more personal and somehow easier to get lost in…
“…find some other minerals further down like silver, but it also might be an active lava zone. Again, these are all theories and this world could just throw the fundamentals of geology away as it does for physics. Anyway, sorry for going on for so long about that, just thought it’d be important for getting some metals in the future.”
“No, no,” Tracy assured, alleviating him of concern with a wave of her hand. “If there’s anything the colony overseers emphasized, it was farming and mineral acquisition. Don’t worry.” She smiled, pointing a thumb to herself. “I just wanna know how I can help.”
“Actually, I’ve a few things only you can do. I’d like to make use of your impressive drone-making expertise for a few applications, if you don’t mind.”
The task of keeping eye contact slipped into an impossible feat in the span of a singular second, planting a pang of embarrassment on her reddened face, forcing her to inspect her fidgeting hands. “I-I wouldn’t say ‘impressive’… b-but what do you have in mind?”
She could see him raise a brow out of the corner of her vision. “Well, after what you’ve shown me with the reconnaissance flyers, I’d like your help in setting up a more permanent ‘net’ of them to scour the meadow and parts of the nearby forest to look out for any approaching hordes. I don’t want to be snuck up on… again…”
‘Again.’
She noted his small frown and sunken eyes, both a little more exaggerated than they already were. It wasn’t like she’d deny his request, but the pangs of empathy over their shared situation all but solidified her resolve. It was the least she could do. She could help him. She would help him.
The technician exhaled slowly, taking on a more serious and understanding tone than before. “I… can do that. For sure. What else?”
“I appreciate it.” He gave a wane smile. “I’ll help you with whatever you need for the project. For the other drones, I’m thinking about a small exploration vehicle to map out caves around us and mark any minerals, as well as a submersible to look for potassium deposits in the ocean.”
“So… search bots?” She crossed her arms, confidence growing; those were her specialty. “Depending on how long the fabricators take and what kind of base drones are in the blueprint folders, I should be able to get those done in no time. All I need to know are the search cues for potassium and how many drones you want.”
He quickly shuffled a few folders on the computer, turning the monitor for her to see some scientific documents with various images and walls upon walls of text. “There’re plenty of resources for that on here for what to look for, and there’s always Sebas, so feel free to ask him since he can just sort through the data for you anyway. If you can, I’d like it if you could focus on the submersible after the reconnaissance drones.”
“Sounds good to me. I’ll be right on it, then.” She gave him a thumbs up, slipping off his desk and toward her own.
“I’ll bring you lunch in a bit. Imma go check on the others,” he called.
Her stomach grumbled at the mention, her head turning to give him an appreciative smile. “Oh! Thanks!”
\= = = = =
Avian creatures chirped from their perches in the trees nearby. The wind softly rustled red leaves as grass gently gave way to calculated footfalls. A warm sun laid its light on Shar’khee’s neck. It was surprisingly pleasant, were one to take the time to notice. The mainland was a confusing place for the paladin, with its disparate representations of nature contrasting so heavily. Some days were filled with blood and ravenous beasts, while others were left within the domain of simplicity and beauty. She was content to have the latter, yet it felt like a facade veiling the former—a soft exterior covering the maliciously spiked interior. Never could she leave herself to carelessness, no matter how welcoming it might be.
Hence why she worked to ensure the safety of the star-sent’s castles and their inhabitants, her days largely spent patrolling for any roaming swarms that may wish to cause them harm. She typically used the routine to think, but today offered little in the way of solitude. This time, she was accompanied by the previously banished guardswoman, and was tasked with instructing the new one, though the specifics of what such lessons should entail were vague. Still, Shar’khee did all that she could so as not to disappoint Harrison, so she could only attempt to meet his expectations of her.
She told the yellow-skinned female of the threats that the settlement faced, how one was to defeat them, and what to expect from the beasts. The guardswoman was directed to practice her form with the spear in both thrusts and throwing for some time afterward, proving herself to be well-built. Such was expected of her profession after all.
It was pleasing to have another capable of patrolling the settlement’s outskirts for swarms, as it would greatly impact how effectively the colony could react to such a threat. If her routine was to suffer for the colony’s well-being, she was happy to show the new one her patrol route and note what to look out for.
The guardswoman was not a perfect student, however. Shar’khee never addressed it directly, but the yellow-skinned female obviously discredited the danger posed by the abhorrent, not-so-subtly shrugging off any warnings.
…That was until they stumbled upon the ‘hyena-boars,’ as Harrison called them.
The beasts resided in a clearing not too far from the castles, carelessly meandering across the sea of tall grass. Shar’khee quickly crouched, dragging the guardswoman down with her. Once she assessed that the creatures were not an imminent danger, she decided it would be an excellent opportunity to show the new one how to properly engage a threat. She was about to propose the idea, yet her speech was silenced just as swiftly.
Orange flashes darted through the trees around the glade. Taloned feet and gnashing teeth tore across the ground toward the unsuspecting beasts at the center. It was much too late for them. They were slow. Surrounded. Unaware. It was as quick as it was vicious, the forest’s reds turning a deeper crimson hue in a moment's notice underneath the abhorrent’s brutality.
Gangly monstrosities gnawed and ripped at the dead creatures, brief glimpses of raw flesh and white bone protruding from the small spaces between the clumped-up beasts. Repulsive wet splatters of blood and gore overlapped the calm noises of the forest, the grisly scene serenaded by the softest of nature’s symphonies. It was a sickening juxtaposition.
Shar’khee bit back the unease and steeled herself. They were within twenty paces—close enough to smell the abhorrent’s vile stench of rot and bile, yet far enough so as not to be noticed. She briefly considered backing away and retreating, her focus bouncing between the different avenues of escape, or how to cover her footst—
Crack.
Several sets of feral, eyeless maws snapped in their direction, the blood dripping off freshly dampened teeth. The guardswoman gasped, Shar’khee’s gaze following to see the mistake: a singular broken branch crinkled as a yellow-colored foot raised off the splintering twig.
The paladin exhaled sharply and smoothly stood up, brandishing two spears and her shield. Her glare settled on the still crouching guardswoman. “You are to stay behind my shield and let them appr—ch. Rem—ber what I have told you. Aim for their maws when you thrust y—r lance.”
The other female nodded, shakily pulling out her own weapons with unsteady placement hampering her grip. There was an obvious nervousness to her gaze. Hesitance. That would not do.
Shar’khee faced the prowling abhorrent her knuckles shifting hue as she prepared for their advance, for there was no chance that they wouldn’t. True to her experience, the stalking turned to a gallop with several clicks of grotesque tongues, the swarm bolting toward her as one. She snarled and slammed her bulwark into the ground, letting the approaching beasts skewer themselves amongst its spikes.
There were only ten—a paltry amount. She had defended against magnitudes more, and yet she still stood. What is more, they were mindless. Uncoordinated. They would be but stains in the cloth she used to clean her armor. Perhaps, if they were fortunate, they might leave a furrow in her shield to remember them by. Her arms tensed as the first leapt.
One by one, the abhorrent fell, their repulsive green blood splattering under her thrusts. Each awaiting corpse tore across the grove’s grass, lunging to their deaths with gaping maws and unfeeling hunger, yet she did not yield. Their shells were crushed by her shield and impaled by her Goddess-blessed spears, becoming but one more smear across their surface. Ten motionless lumps lay before her, seeping their ichor into the soil, none having passed the barrier she became. Dead, just as the Creator intended. She remained vigilant for a few moments longer, watching for any more of the disgusting creatures.
None showed themselves, finally allowing blood to flow to her fingers once again. The shield’s heavy presence weighed down her back, the blood flicked off of her spears before she returned them to their place.
“Are y–u well?” Shar’khee addressed the frozen Malkrin, wiping away the splatter on her bracers. The guardswoman stared at the small pile of deceased creatures, her heavy breaths and widened eyes moving from the spear from her singular kill. The paladin huffed. “We are fort—ate that there were so few.”
“F-Few? God help us…” Her horrified, stunned gaze slowly met the paladin’s. “Y-You said there were hundreds on the crimson nights? H-How do you… They were s-so fast.”*
”As I h–ve warned,” Shar’khee affirmed.
“You are a paladin! You all exaggerate your feats… I thought it was just a facade!”
“I have no r—son to lie,” she returned tersely, shrugging off the insult to her station and shaking her head. “The mainl—d is far more dangerous than ten gnash—g beasts; more so than that of your island hamlet. Pick yourself up. We m—t inform the others of this incursion.”
The yellow-skinned female snarled, furrowing her brows at the ground in frustration. At whom…? Shar’khee? Herself? Regardless, the female promptly gathered her composure, pushing air through clenched jaws. A step forward had her feet splash in the small pool of blood, the Malkrin nodding toward the paladin to continue back to the castles.
“…for the village.”
Shar’khee paused in her stride and faced her, frowning at the determination and anger leaking through the intent. “W—t was that?”
Her question was returned with honesty, a huffed voice marred by vexation. “Paladin, how am I to defend my village-mates as I am now?”
“‘As you are now?’ What do you m—n?”
The guardswoman stared down at her spear, wood creaking under her grip. “I have faltered before what you deem a paltry threat, and the thought of an even greater one sows dread deep within my bones. I wish… I wish to be better prepared to defend those of my village. I cannot help but see their faces on those of the furred creature in the clearing, and yet, even if I am so close, I am just as unable to protect them.”
Shar’khee stared down the yellow female, a long gaze taking in a rare showing of sincerity. “Y—r fears are one we all share, new one. Do not be ashamed of them. All t—t matters is that you do not let them rem—n mere fear, but make them your strength. So tell me, do you wish to impr—e? To ensure they do not fall while you are support—g them?”
The yellow-skinned female released a shuddering breath that bled off the worst of her indecision, a newly invoked flame flaring within her visage. “I do, paladin. I seek to protect and to be of use.”
“Then, if you wish to make y—rself resilient in the face of all that opposes us, it would be my undertak—g to forge you anew. Fortunately, Harrison has ordered such already, and his guidance shall prove ever useful, should you pursue it.”
The guardswoman shuffled in place at the star-sent’s mention, her eyes slipping downwards. “He is of a great many resources, but I would rather receive your teachings than those of a craftsman… or that of a male, deity-sent he might be.”
She placed a palm on the female’s shoulder. “He is far more than you might ever k—w. Regardless of if you ac—pt his guidance, I commend your conviction. However—” Her hand gripped tighter, though not enough to instill hostility. “—understand that you are protecting more than just your vi—age-mates.”
The new one nodded, staring up at the paladin with stallwart resolve. “Of course. I shall be in your tutelage, then.”
Shar’khee smiled. “T—n let us begin.”
\= = = = =
Akula was becoming increasingly certain that she knew how her parents once felt. The green-skinned fisherwoman was currently rotating between the many tasks placed upon her, guiding the newcomers through the minutia of their tasks so they might live up to the potential Harrison saw within them. She was gratified to have her own talents recognized by the Creator, but it also placed a great many responsibilities in her talons. Of course, she handled each new addition with finesse befitting her heritage, never once balking from the increasing demands. If anything, she felt validated; it was required of her as a female anyway, was it not? The more feminine-appropriate labor and management one undertakes, the higher authority they were granted.
It began with a simple assignment to oversee the chef’s introduction to the star-sent’s provided cooking appliances. As fascinating and convenient as utilities were, she held no interest in preparing any more food than she already had, but teaching another to operate the machines would alleviate such requirements of her. She reluctantly accepted the task when it was proposed, especially considering the fact that Harrison was much too busy with his other projects to bother with something as benign as cooking. His work was more valuable elsewhere.
The task itself went well, and the pink-skinned chef was quick to pick up on the use of the various kitchen devices, as well as the smoker. A grin had grown when she considered the possibility of all males understanding such domestic things readily, yet her mirth at removing the masculine job required of her was short-lived. Despite the newly initiated Malkrin’s success, Harrison had Akula frequently return to oversee the numerous cooking operations being conducted. That was in tandem with the back-to-back fishing trips made by both herself and the newly acquired females.
…Which was something else the green-skinned cycle-worshipper was ordered to oversee.
She had left the chef to his devices after producing another batch of partially seasoned meals, returning to the Creator with hopes of a break. He applauded her efforts with a nod and tersely spoken appreciation, then quickly pushed two spearguns into her hand and directed her to the ocean, where the twins were ‘working with jack shit,’ as the busy male said. She was to give the fisherwomen the tools and make sure they were used properly, and offer additional assistance in acquiring ‘enough fish to have us fed for a little bit.’
So, she left to complete the given task, feeling somewhat appreciative that her speargun was of superior quality to those she would be delivering—the newcomers were only afforded the lesser, roped-bolt version. It was only natural that she was in possession of their greatest assets, of course; the star-sent saw her as the only one capable of wielding such fantastic ammunition, showing trust that was rightfully placed in her. That did not mean the gray-skinned females were unsatisfied with their own gifts, however. The twins were swiftly caught up on the ‘manual of arms’ and sent to work, somehow managing to keep up with Akula in spite of their land-based origins. The two were fast enough to outpace the cycle-worshipper in sheer speed, but their lack of numerous winters spent traversing deeper waters meant they required frequent rests, breaking the ocean’s surface after every third captured fish or so.
Still, she had to appreciate their dedication to their task. They never complained about Akula pushing them further to reach the star-sent’s vague objective. Such a task was entrusted to her—and by proxy, the other two—and thus it would be completed, no matter how much her comfortable bed… couch called her tiring muscles.
The group of three hauled net after full net of fresh meat to the chef—and sewist, who later joined him—forcing him to relegate much of the catch to long-term storage as the kitchen simply could not deal with the surplus. At least three-quarters of the fish were put to slow cook in the now Malkrin-sized smoker. The craftsman had upgraded it with a kit provided by Harrison, who had recycled much of the dining room and workshop furniture to accommodate it. The Creator’s showcased urgency to gather materials was clearly not unfounded… It was admirable how he used what little he had left to ensure food would not be scarce. Additionally, the apparatus exuded an excellent scent for all the survivors to enjoy, the earthy aroma drawing in some of the other Malkrin for their breaks or meals.
Those were not the end of the cycle-worshiper’s tasks, however. She was also required to report on Shar’khee’s progress in training the guardswoman—helping to recycle the small swarm of abhorrent they cleared earlier—as well as the wood storage building’s progress. Indeed, she was advising and assisting however and wherever applicable. To say she was seen all around the settlement would be an understatement.
Nevertheless, she was appreciative to see her efforts bearing fruit by sundown. The processing of their meals from sea to plate was quite efficient, and those that Akula taught were now well-practiced in their duties. The twin fisherwomen dove from wave to wave, bringing fish back to the barracks, where the cook and sewist swiftly worked to transfer the meat to pans and smoker hooks alike. Then, the remnants of the Sea Goddess’ aquatic gifts would be subsequently recycled and given purpose anew as biofuel or perhaps future fertilizer.
The endless onslaught of duties and responsibilities had enlightened her, in a way. She could see where Harrison came from now; having a working project go from one point to another without input nor difficulty was a sight to behold, and it made her swell with pride. It was a surmountable feat to teach the barbaric ground-worshippers to do something properly.
…Well, they were not horrible Malkrin, so perhaps simply calling them ‘uninitiated’ was a more apt descriptor…
No matter the tribulations faced, and no matter how draining her new authority might be, her rest at the end of the day would be one that was well-earned, and it would be had with a sense of satisfaction. She deserved it, and perhaps that extended to the rest of the settlement as well.
- - - - -
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Next time on Total Drama Anomaly Island - Mine! Mine! Mine!

Hey PubTips! Just want to say an upfront thanks to everyone who posts and comments on this subreddit - I've learned so much already!
I'm hoping to submit to a competition in which the prize is feedback from an agent. The competition is being run by Spread The Word and Frog Literary, and you can find it here if you're interested in applying too! (https://www.spreadtheword.org.uk/submissions-call-out-applications-are-open-to-lgbtqia-writers-for-1-2-1-feedback-from-frog-literary-agency/)
In the submission guidelines they ask for a cover letter, and I initially took this as more of a standard cover letter but after feedback from an author friend, they suggested they might be looking for a traditional query. My autistic brain struggles with reading between the lines sometimes, so I emailed them to clarify and the standard query is what they're after.
Just for context, my manuscript isn't completely finished but there's nothing in the guidelines to suggest it needs to be finished to apply. If anyone has any feedback or insight they could offer me, I'd be super grateful! Thank you :)
Dear [Agent],
As you represent [LGBT+ romance author], I believe you would be interested in my LGBT+ contemporary romance, QUESTIONING, which will be complete at 80,000 words. It merges the exploration of a newly discovered sexuality as seen in Kate Davies’ In At The Deep End with the wholesome, diverse found-family cast of Casey McQuiston’s One Last Stop.
Lucy is happy to spend the rest of her life in Harrison’s shadow, but she isn’t content to be confined to their kitchen only making meals for him and his fancy friends. She wants to be a real chef. When she gently brings up the idea of culinary school with Harrison, his temper flares and he kicks her out of their shared flat.
Heartbroken and temporarily homeless, she knows that Harrison will eventually calm down like every other time he’s broken up with her. She reconnects with an old friend who gives her a place to stay and introduces her to Manchester’s thriving queer scene. There she meets Aaliyah, the eccentric artist whose confident and flirty nature stirs feelings in Lucy that are much more than friendship. She has to decide whether to stick with the straight-and-narrow life she’s envisioned for herself since she was sixteen, or take a chance on this side of herself that she didn’t even know existed before now.
As a disabled, bisexual woman living in a society where productivity and heteronormativity are the key metrics of success, I’ve always sought out ways to escape. This has inspired me to create narratives that others can escape into, where queer characters all get their happy endings. Queer joy deserves to be given more space within the literary canon and I want to be part of that.
After taking an online writing course and meeting women from similar backgrounds to me, I realised that being an author might be an achievable dream. In the years since I finished that course, I’ve watched hundreds of YouTube videos, listened to hours of podcasts and read any craft book I’ve been able to get my hands on. I also received a mentorship opportunity with the editor Nicky Lovick, who suggested Frog Literary as a good match for my book.
First 300
The smoke alarm cuts through the quiet of the flat like an air raid siren, interrupting my final rehearsal of the speech I’ve been planning for weeks. I rush across the living room, grabbing a tea towel from the neatly folded pile and frantically wave it under the screaming white box. The noise continues to pierce through me, my short arms useless in the face of the high ceilings. I pull a stack of my cookbooks from the counter and lay them on the floor.
‘Sorry,’ I mutter, stepping onto Marco Pierre White’s face with my bare feet.
With the beeping finally silenced, I have to contend with the source of the smoke. A trickle of grey leaks from the top of the oven, and I send a silent prayer to the universe that my bread is salvageable. I need tonight to go well.
Pulling down the silver handle, a thick cloud billows out from inside, fogging up my glasses and filling the space with the scent of scorched sourdough. I haphazardly wrap the tea towel around my hands and grab the searing hot tin from the oven, the thin material barely enough to keep my hands from suffering the same fate as my poor bread with its charcoal-coloured crust.
I throw the whole thing into the sink, tears pricking at the edges of my eyes, though that could just be from the smoke that’s hanging around the kitchen like I’m in Victorian London rather than 21st Century Manchester. Harrison will be pissed off if he comes back to a smog infested flat, so there’s no time to cry over burned bread. Instead, I crack open the windows to the maximum amount possible on the 27th floor without being a suicide risk and head out to buy a replacement loaf.
When I get home, the flat is back to normal, the neat surfaces and sterile black furniture all looking exactly as it should. I close the window, hoping that heat from the rest of the cooking will ward away the March chill that has seeped in.

Out there - Patreon (for all those curious or wanting to support :))
At the Beginning
Adventure Arc - Arc 2
Wilderness Arc - Arc 3
Academy Arc - Arc 4
Nobility Arc - Arc 5
Previously on Leveling up the World...
AQUILEQUIA has assimilated the MAGIC cluster, increasing her level to 7.
​
Without anything to fight or evade, the dragon was doing a rather good job of increasing her level. It would be a while before she got to a point to rival Aurun, but every bit helped. Besides, it wasn’t like Dallion was hurrying.
Beneath the ground, rocks hardened, destroying the hidden golems one at a time. The constructs were sturdy enough to withstand any standard attack, but with enough illusion spells, anything could be changed.
“So,” Dallion turned to Alien, “where are you from?”
The old mage stared at him, confusion flickering through the pain and fear.
“Back on Earth, I mean.”
Only now did he realize that otherworlders hardly ever asked that question. Even now, he did it more as a means to pass time than out of any real interest. Given the number of such interactions he himself had held so far, the only conclusion was that the Moons discouraged the conversation in some fashion.
“Centennial,” the archmage spat out. “Centennial, Colorado.”
“Know nothing about it.”
“You won’t gain anything by torturing me. The emperor is a lot stronger than you’ll ever be.”
“That’s debatable. Though, interesting that you haven’t made a Moon vow. I thought that was the way things went.”
“Moon vows limit people. Didn’t my old teacher tell you that?” A smile formed on Alien’s face. “Even in this world, you can’t have everything. It’s either skill or loyalty.”
“Don’t know about loyalty, but you definitely don’t have the skills. I guess that’s why they put you in charge of the circle.”
“I improved the rockets!” the man shouted. “They were nothing before. Firecrackers that carried spells.”
“History begs to differ.”
“You think that the addict came up with the idea?” Clearly, the archbishop wasn’t viewed in high regard among anyone in Jeremy’s camp. “He stole that from me! He’s been alive for millennia and all he could do was the crap you’re using now.”
“Sure, he stole your idea centuries before—”
Dallion stopped. Strangely enough, it was possible. What was more, it was well within Simon’s means. The ability to see into the future made time irrelevant. True, the echoes were distorted and there was never a guarantee that things would end up as they were originally planned, but if he had focused on the emperor’s design, it was possible for him to have recreated an event centuries before it had happened. No wonder he was constantly on the lookout for Moonstones.
“I can help you too,” Alien pleaded. “Just don’t kill me and let me go.”
So much for loyalty, Dallion thought.
“I can give you something you need.”
Surprisingly, truth resonated within the man’s words.
“You aren’t afraid of what the emperor would do to you?”
“There are four powers in the world. Making you stronger will also weaken the other two opposing him.”
The logic was sound, though Dallion strongly suspected that Alien was begging for his life in a calculated way. No doubt what he was offering was of marginal significance at best, so the emperor didn’t care.
“Moonstones!” the mage said, noticing Dallion’s hesitation. “I’ll give you Moonstones.”
That definitely got Dallion’s attention. Standing up, he floated up to Alien.
“You’ve felt the power they contain. With them you could restore your legs, you’d be able to understand spells no one else can.”
“If that’s true, why haven’t you used them yourself? You could have defeated me easily.”
There was no answer.
“I’m tired of your lies.” Dallion turned around.
“I’m not lying! They’re in this very room, but without my help, you’ll only destroy them. That way, no one will have them.”
So, that was the game: Alien’s freedom in exchange for a power boost, if he could be believed, of course. Dallion weighed the options. He’d be a fool to refuse at this stage of the war, although it still bothered him that anyone would offer this much for no reason. The archmage had to be terrified about his life, and convinced that Dallion would take it.
Adzorg, what do you think? Dallion asked in his realm.
I’d say it’s possible, but that doesn’t make it true, the old mage replied. It’s easy to lock something within a domain and make it break should it be entered in a way it’s not supposed to be. The practice is terribly risky, though. In most cases, the realm is destroyed for no apparent reason whatsoever.
Do you think I should take the chance?
It’s difficult to say. Knowing him, I’d pass. I gave him a rather good education on constructing prison items, after all.
The normal thing was to refuse. At the same time, every trap could be sprung without enough power. If Dallion couldn’t deal with this, could he be expected to win in a one-to-one against Jeremy, or anyone else for that matter?
“Alright,” he said. “I vow to let you go unharmed, provided you tell me how to obtain the gems in a way that I won’t end up dead, imprisoned, or harmed.” He turned around again. “Can you vow to that?”
There was a suspiciously long moment of silence.
“Yes,” Alien said at last.
“Good.” The room released the archmage. “So, where are they?”
“I need a Vermillion ring. Give me that and I’ll show you.”
That wasn’t in the initial bargain. Dallion could think of a dozen ways how that could be used to harm him. He had seen it happen to a member of the Shimmering Circle not too long ago.
“You’ve vowed not to harm me, remember?” Dallion removed the Vermillion ring hanging on his neck. “Mind control is harming.”
“Just give it here.” The other hissed through gritted teeth, though didn’t dare snatch it from Dallion’s hand outright.
“Here.” Dallion tossed it at him.
He imagined that Alien would go to one of the items shrouded with illusion magic and do something. There was no way it could be hidden within the building itself. Since Dallion had destroyed the illusion spells in the realm of the archmage’s complex, things had ceased to be as glamorous as before. Gone was the giant room of opulent statues, finely crafted wall furniture, and chandeliers of light. And while there weren’t cracks anywhere, Dallion wouldn’t have rented such a place unless he was given no choice.
Unexpectedly, the archmage slid on the ring, then turned his hand palm up. A rough crimson gem emerged.
“You?” Dallion’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second.
“I told you it’s within the room.” The other said. “If you had killed me, they would have been destroyed.”
“You’re Jeremy’s piggybank. That’s why you were never worried he might kill you.”
“There are worse things than death, as you well know.” A second red gem emerged. “But no, that’s not the reason. And as for your earlier question—I made a vow never to use any of them unless specifically ordered by the emperor.”
“Always the loophole.”
“It was a necessity.” A cyan gem joined the other two. “You actually think you can win, don’t you?” He glanced at Dallion.
“I’ve done well so far.”
“Jeremy isn’t like anyone else. In some ways, he’s like you, if you had a few more centuries of experience. In all historical scrolls, the archbishop was said to be the strongest of them all. Well, it wouldn’t be described that way. Simon never liked the spotlight.” A white gem emerged. “How did the saying go? There are many strong countries out there, but only the Order controls the world.” Alien let out a cough. “It used to be like that. The moment someone steps out of line, the Order and half the world would fall onto him like a ton of bricks. Simon had copyettes in all the right places, so he was, in effect, pulling everyone’s strings. However, there was one fatal weakness.”
“What does he do if there are no countries left,” Dallion said.
“Precisely. He was so confident in his prophecies and his copyettes that he never thought that the situation could spiral out of control. The emperor was the one who spotted the weakness and slowly exploited it without anyone noticing. You and others like you were nothing but bright distractions in the global game of chess.”
A total of eight Moonstones had amassed in Alien’s hand, most of them red.
“Your task was to keep him from getting Moonstones,” Dallion noted.
“One of them.” Alien walked up to Dallion, offering the stones.
Rarely had Dallion seen so much power in one spot. They were a lot smaller than the dragon heart, but size didn’t always matter when it came to power. With just half of them, Aquilequia could level up to forty, maybe more. As Alien had suggested, Dallion could use one to restore his legs in seconds, not to mention boost his spell power for up to an hour. At the right moment, that could change the result of a battle, maybe even the entire war.
“The Azures should have gone after you.” Dallion resisted the temptation and merely placed them in his own domain.
“They too were a distraction that went out of hand.” Alien slid off the Vermillion ring. “Just like you. The deal is done. Now, I can leave.”
“Go ahead.” Dallion took his ring. “Remember, can’t harm me.”
“Do I look like someone who could fight Moon candidates?” The archmage let out a bitter laugh. “I’d wish you good luck, but I would be lying.” He cast a flight spell, then flew out of the window.
Feeling somewhat generous, Dallion expanded the size of the opening, allowing the man to leave more comfortably.
I must say, I didn’t expect that, Adzorg said. I always felt potential coming from him, but was annoyed that he never chose to meet it. Now, I know why.
​
AQUILEQUIA has assimilated the MAGIC cluster, increasing her level to 8.
​
“Do you think he had them in him back when he was your apprentice?”
Who knows? It’s possible. For all we know, it's possible that he never was a mage to begin with. With enough energy flowing within his realm, he might have been able to borrow the magic trait even without using the Moonstones themselves.
“Have there been such cases?”
No, but there haven’t been cases like Diroh, either. There’s no telling what might happen if something divine is placed within a person’s realm.
Dallion himself was a product of divine magic. He didn’t have the magic trait upon awakening. It was only thanks to the phoenix gem that he had become what he was. More than once, it had been mentioned that his magic threads were different from everyone else’s due to precisely that. Having to spend his entire life with more and more Moonstones within his realm and be forbidden to use them must have been beyond terrifying.
I know it sounds bad, but it’s a logical course of action, Adzorg said. As long as there’s enough protection to prevent invasions and foreign echoes, it’s the perfect place. No one could peek into the personal realm of others.
Such a mage’s thing to say, Dallion thought. The old mage probably didn’t even see how wrong it was, merely commenting on efficiency and a swell found exception.
“I’m glad I never awakened a mage,” Dallion muttered.
​
AQUILEQUIA has assimilated the MAGIC cluster, increasing her level to 9.
​
There are a few valuable items you could take from here, if you want, Adzorg suggested.
“I think I’ve taken enough.”
The walls of the building detached floor by floor, falling to the ground where they were instantly swallowed up. The roof moved to the side, revealing a clear blue sky before it, too, was gone. In less than a minute, all that was left was Dallion, standing on an empty field.
​
REALM INVASION
ARCHDUCHESS PRISCORD has invaded ACADEMY.
​
“Here you are,” Dallion said, summoning both his blades. “You’re right on time.”

In the realm of interior design, few elements evoke a sense of warmth, elegance, and timelessness quite like wood. From rustic cabins to modern lofts, wood has the remarkable ability to transform any space, infusing it with character, texture, and a touch of nature's beauty. In this blog post, we delve into the world of interior woodworks, exploring its versatility, craftsmanship, and enduring appeal.
Woodwork is more than just a construction technique; it's an art form that has been honed and perfected over centuries. From intricate carvings to seamless joinery, the craftsmanship involved in creating bespoke woodwork is truly awe-inspiring. Each piece tells a story of skill, dedication, and a deep connection to the material itself.
One of the most appealing aspects of interior woodworks is its versatility. Whether you prefer the rustic charm of reclaimed barn wood or the sleek sophistication of finely polished walnut, there's a wood species and style to suit every taste and aesthetic. From flooring and furniture to architectural details and decorative accents, wood can be incorporated into virtually any aspect of interior design, adding warmth, depth, and personality to any space.
But perhaps what makes interior woodworks truly special is its ability to create a sense of connection to the natural world. In an age where technology often dominates our lives, the tactile nature of wood provides a welcome respite—a reminder of our roots and a link to the earth itself. Whether it's the feel of smooth oak beneath your fingertips or the rich scent of cedar wafting through a room, wood engages the senses in a way that few other materials can match.
Of course, no discussion of interior woodworks would be complete without mentioning the sustainability factor. As concerns about environmental conservation continue to grow, many homeowners and designers are turning to eco-friendly materials like reclaimed wood and responsibly sourced timber. Not only does this help reduce our carbon footprint, but it also adds a unique story and character to each piece of woodwork, imbuing it with a sense of history and heritage.
In conclusion, interior woodworks are more than just a design choice; they're a statement—a testament to craftsmanship, creativity, and a deep appreciation for the beauty of the natural world. Whether you're renovating a historic home, building a contemporary masterpiece, or simply looking to add a touch of warmth to your living space, woodwork offers endless possibilities for creativity and expression.
So why not bring the timeless charm of wood into your home today? Whether you opt for a custom-built dining table, a handcrafted bookshelf, or a stunning feature wall, interior woodworks are sure to elevate your space and leave a lasting impression for years to come.
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It seems like so many people post here with the same old comments about how they’re wrong about something being mid century modern. At this point it seems like something can only be one of three well known brands or there’s arguments started in the thread. Is mid century modern not, by common definition, furniture produced from the end of WWII to the early 70s characterized by organic or streamlined furniture commonly made of wood, leather, or metal? So I’m asking the experts here what YOU consider mid century modern.

Linen, a fabric that whispers of age-old tradition and natural elegance, holds a special place in the hearts of those who value sustainability and style. Originating from the flax plant, linen is not just a fabric; it's a testament to durability and comfort, making it a beloved choice for both fashion and home decor. In the warm, vibrant landscapes of South Africa, linen transcends merely being a material to becoming a lifestyle choice, perfectly suited to the country's sunny climate and laid-back elegance.
As you explore the world of linen, you'll discover its unique properties that make it a real summer fabric, yet versatile enough for all seasons. Its ability to wear airy, stay cool, and dry quickly, alongside its eco-friendly and long-lasting nature, makes linen a smart choice for those looking to blend style with sustainability. Whether it's in the form of chic dresses, wide-leg pants for the fashion-forward, or as part of your home's interior with linen bedding and pillows, linen brings a unique, casual look that's effortlessly sophisticated.

KEY TAKEAWAYS

• Linen is a durable, sustainable fabric made from the flax plant, celebrated for its comfort, eco-friendliness, and style versatility in fashion and home décor, especially within the vibrant setting of South Africa.
• Its unique texture, ability to improve with age, and durability make linen a superior choice for both attire and household items, offering a blend of casual sophistication and robust longevity.
• Linen's sustainability attributes, including lower water requirements and biodegradability, align with eco-conscious living, making it a preferred material for those prioritising environmental stewardship alongside stylistic elegance.
• The fabric supports traditional skills, with the high demand for quality linen helping to preserve artisanal textile crafting techniques, ensuring the continuation of cultural heritage and craftsmanship.
• Caring for linen involves gentle washing, air drying, and avoiding bleaching, ensuring the fabric maintains its natural beauty and longevity as part of a sustainable lifestyle.
• India Ink's home decor collection showcases the versatility and elegance of linen, with an array of products that enrich living spaces with comfort, style, and a commitment to sustainable living practices.

THE BEAUTY OF LINEN

Discovering what is linen unlocks a world of elegance and refinement, especially within the vibrant context of South Africa. This natural fabric, celebrated for its classic appeal and sustainable qualities, plays a pivotal role in both fashion and home decor. Let's delve deeper into the texture and durability of linen and explore its versatility in home decoration.

TEXTURE AND DURABILITY

Linen's unique texture is one of its most cherished attributes. It's soft yet sturdy, offering a comfort that's unmatched by most other materials. This exquisite fabric originates from the flax plant, known for its long, strong fibres, making linen an outstanding choice for longevity. Its natural crinkles add a casual yet sophisticated charm to any item, whether it's clothing or decor pieces.
But it's not just about looks; durability is where linen truly shines. Sheeting linen, with its high thread count, offers an extra layer of durability, making it perfect for everyday use without sacrificing its beauty. This resilience makes linen an intelligent choice for those seeking quality and style in one package. Over time, linen doesn't weaken but instead becomes softer, enhancing its usability and aesthetic appeal with every wash.

VERSATILITY IN HOME DECOR

When it comes to Home Decor, linen stands out for its versatility. Its ability to blend seamlessly into any setting, from modern minimalist to rustic chic, makes it a top choice for interior designers and homeowners alike. In the sunny and lively ambiance of South Africa, linen's breathable and cool nature complements the climate brilliantly, offering comfort and style.
From luxurious India Ink Home Decor collections to locally crafted pieces, linen is a staple material. It's employed in creating everything from plush bedding that cools in the summer nights to elegant tablecloths that elevate a dining experience. Linen pillows and poufs add a touch of casual elegance to any room, making spaces more inviting and comfortable.
Moreover, the aesthetic of linen items in home decor cannot be overstated. Their unique texture and the way they gracefully drape offer a balance between laid-back and refined, embodying a lifestyle that appreciates both comfort and elegance. Choosing linen for your Best Home Decor selections means opting for pieces that age gracefully, becoming more beautiful with time and use.
Incorporating linen into your home isn't just a style choice—it's a commitment to a lifestyle that values quality, sustainability, and timeless elegance. Whether you're dressing up your living space or adding a touch of sophistication to your wardrobe, linen's unmatched blend of beauty and durability makes it an enduring favourite.

THE SUSTAINABILITY OF LINE

Linen, a fabric as elegant as it's sustainable, has found its way into the heart of South African homes and wardrobes, marrying timeless elegance with eco-conscious living. Let's delve into why linen consistently ranks as a top choice for those prioritising both style and sustainability.

ECO-FRIENDLY PRODUCTION

When pondering what is linen, it's essential to acknowledge its eco-friendly production process. Linen comes from the flax plant, which is remarkably resilient, requiring significantly less water than cotton and thriving without the need for harmful pesticides. This makes linen an environmentally friendly option right from its inception. In South Africa, a region where water scarcity is a concern, choosing linen supports a more sustainable approach to textile production.
The production of linen is more labor-intensive than that of cotton, but it's a process that respects the environment, harnessing traditional farming techniques that have stood the test of time. This aspect makes linen not just a fabric, but a testament to eco-friendly practices that align with the values of sustainability-minded consumers, especially those seeking the best home decor options that India Ink and similar brands offer.

BIODEGRADABILITY AND LONGEVITY

One of the most striking features of linen is its biodegradability and longevity. Linen garments and home decor items don't just offer a distinctively sophisticated aesthetic, they're also built to last. Linen's robust fibres can withstand years of wear and washing, gradually becoming softer and more comfortable over time without losing their integrity. This enduring quality ensures that linen products remain a fixture in homes for years, reducing the need for frequent replacements and contributing less waste to landfills.
For those invested in creating a home with the best home decor, choosing linen not only adds a touch of luxury but also makes a statement about sustainable living. It's comforting to know that once a linen item has reached the end of its long, useful life, it will naturally decompose, leaving minimal environmental impact.

SUPPORTING TRADITIONAL SKILLS

The demand for high-quality linen in South Africa helps support and preserve traditional skills and livelihoods. The intricate process of transforming flax into linen requires expertise that has been passed down through generations. By choosing linen for your home decor or wardrobe, you're contributing to the survival of these artisanal practices, ensuring they can continue to thrive in the modern world.
Communities dedicated to the art of linen-making benefit from the rejuvenated interest in sustainable textiles. It's a celebration of heritage and craftsmanship, with each piece of linen telling a story of cultural legacy meshed with contemporary design. Brands like India Ink not only showcase the natural beauty and durability of linen in their home decor collections but also champion the traditional skills behind the fabric, promoting a deeper appreciation for the hands that craft them.
As linen weaves its way through South African homes, it brings with it a reminder of the importance of making eco-conscious choices in every aspect of our lives. From its low-impact production to its ability to support age-old crafting techniques, linen stands out as a symbol of sustainable luxury.

LINEN IN CULTURE AND TRADITION

Linen, woven from the fibres of flax plants, carries with it a rich tapestry of cultural significance and traditional value, particularly in South Africa. Long before what is linen became a common query in the vibrant world of home decor, this fabric was deeply rooted in local customs and practices, symbolising purity and wealth.
Incorporating linen into your home through India ink home decor items not only enhances the aesthetic of your living spaces but also pays homage to a tradition that has been cherished across generations. In South Africa, linen is often featured in cultural celebrations and ceremonies, symbolising a connection to nature and a commitment to sustainability. This tradition underscores the essence of selecting the best home decor that is not only beautiful but also steeped in meaning.
Due to its natural origins and eco-friendly production, linen has become increasingly popular among South African designers and homeowners looking to make eco-conscious choices. Products made from linen – from elegant draperies to crisp bedding – not only imbue homes with a sense of luxury but also carry forward a legacy of environmental stewardship. As more people seek out sustainable options, linen's appeal continues to grow, merging home decor trends with timeless tradition.
Using linen in your home is a nod to both the past and the future, blending cultural heritage with modern sustainability ideals. By choosing linen, you contribute to a global movement towards more responsible consumption patterns, all while enriching your home with pieces that tell a story. It's a fabric that transcends mere utility, becoming a symbol of careful craftsmanship and respect for the environment – values deeply embedded in South African culture.
Whether it's through the touch of a linen tablecloth or the embrace of a linen throw, integrating this fabric into your home decor offers a seamless blend of style, comfort, and conscious living. Linen's durability and biodegradability ensure that your choice is not only an investment in aesthetics but in the planet's future as well.

CARING FOR YOUR LINEN

Linen, known for its breathability, durability, and effortless charm, has become a staple in the realm of home decor, blending seamlessly with the aesthetic desired by many South African households. When integrating pieces like India ink home decor or any linen-based items into your space, knowing how to care for this fabric can preserve its beauty and longevity, ensuring your best home decor remains in prime condition.
Firstly, always check the care label before laundering your linen items. Typically, linen is machine washable in lukewarm water on a gentle cycle. Use a mild, liquid detergent to avoid any harshness on the fibres. It's crucial to avoid bleaching your linen, as this can weaken the fibres and alter the colour, diminishing the natural beauty of the fabric.
Drying your linen correctly is just as important as how you wash it. While tumble drying on a low heat setting is generally safe, air drying is preferable for preserving the fabric's quality and reducing energy consumption. Hang or lay your items flat in a shaded area, as direct sunlight can cause fading.
Ironing linen, while not always necessary thanks to its naturally relaxed texture, should be done while the fabric is still slightly damp. Use a medium-hot iron and press on the wrong side to avoid shiny marks. For an immaculate finish, consider using a steam iron.
For linen items that are part of your home decor, like draperies or upholstered furniture, regular vacuuming with a soft brush attachment can minimise dust accumulation. Spot clean any spills immediately with a damp cloth, avoiding rubbing, which can embed stains deeper into the fabric.
Remember, linen's beauty lies in its natural, slightly wrinkled appearance, embodying effortless elegance and comfort. By following these care tips, you'll ensure your linen home decor continues to add a touch of warmth and sophistication to your home, embodying the best of practicality and style.

INDIA INK'S LINEN COLLECTION

When exploring what is linen and its applications in home decor, India Ink stands out as a beacon of quality and innovation within the South African context. Their linen collection merges traditional elegance with contemporary design, ensuring your home not only reflects style but also exudes comfort.
At the heart of India Ink's home decor philosophy is a commitment to using premium linen fabrics. Recognised for its durability, breathability, and elegance, linen brings a touch of luxury and a sense of natural beauty to any space. Whether you're revamping your bedroom, updating your living area, or adding finesse to your bathroom, India Ink offers an extensive range of linen products to elevate your home's aesthetic.
Their collection showcases a variety of linen items including, but not limited to:

• Luxurious bed linens that promise to transform your sleep experience,
• Elegant tablecloths and napkins designed to complement your dining area,
• Sophisticated curtains that blend functionality with style, providing privacy while inviting just the right amount of natural light.

What sets India Ink apart is their keen eye for detail and their embrace of linen's natural characteristics. Acknowledging linen's inherent propensity for slight wrinkles, India Ink designs embrace this texture, adding a relaxed yet elegant charm to their products. This approach not only highlights the authentic quality of the fabric but also ensures that every item from their collection adds a distinct character to your home decor.
Investing in India Ink's linen collection guarantees you're bringing into your home a piece of fabric known for its archival integrity and strength. Moreover, their linen selection is curated to cater to the best home decor tastes, seamlessly blending functionality with aesthetic appeal. Whether you're after the crisp, clean look that a touch of starch can provide or the more casual, lived-in appearance, India Ink has you covered.
Exploring India Ink’s home decor offerings allows you to experience the unique charm and sophisticated comfort that linen brings into a space. Their collection highlights how this ancient fabric continues to hold relevance in contemporary decor, marrying tradition with modernity in the most elegant manner.
Exploring India Ink's Linen Collection reveals more than just the timeless elegance of linen; it unveils a world where durability meets luxury in every thread. By choosing their linen products, you're not just adding a piece of fabric to your home. You're embracing a tradition of sophistication and comfort that has been cherished for centuries. Whether it's the gentle embrace of bed linens or the refined touch of tablecloths and curtains, India Ink ensures that every item enriches your living space with a blend of classic and contemporary design. Their commitment to quality and attention to the natural beauty of linen make their collection a perfect choice for those looking to infuse their homes with a sense of refined charm and enduring style.

FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS

WHAT IS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN COTTON AND LINEN?

Cotton and linen have distinct fibers; cotton is softer and more versatile, while linen is naturally stronger and known for its durability, breathability, and luxurious feel. Each has its unique characteristics catering to different needs and preferences.

WHAT HAPPENS IF LINEN GETS WET?

Linen can shrink when wet, a common trait among fabrics. To minimise shrinkage, it's best to wash linen at lukewarm temperatures, around 40°C, on a gentle cycle, preserving its quality and dimensions.

HOW CAN YOU TELL IF FABRIC IS LINEN?

To differentiate linen from cotton, dampen a finger and press it against the fabric. Linen absorbs moisture faster and more visibly due to its fewer surface fibres compared to cotton, making it distinguishable through this simple test.

WHAT ARE TWO CHARACTERISTICS OF LINEN?

Linen stands out for its strength, durability, UV protection, lightweight nature, rapid moisture evaporation, and antibacterial properties. These features contribute to its lasting appeal and suitability for a wide range of uses, from clothing to home decor.

WHAT ARE THE ADVANTAGES AND DISADVANTAGES OF LINEN?

Advantages: Linen keeps you cool, is easy to clean, and when organic, uses natural dyes beneficial for both health and the environment. Disadvantage: The main drawback is its cost, which can be significantly higher than other fabrics. Regular washing without tumble drying is recommended to avoid permanent creases.