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disco-elysium-via-polls · 3 months

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"Look, Kim. Powerful communist theory, rigorous and truthful."

+1 Communism

KIM KITSURAGI - "Ousia..." he enunciates the word diligently. "I agree -- humanitarian sciences. It stands out. Not a lot of critical theory around in Revachol West..."

+5 XP

Level up!

RHETORIC [Medium: Success] - Your incendiary remark has failed to provoke him.

REACTION SPEED [Easy: Success] - Wasn't there some in the communist student's room?

"A student in the apartment building seemed to have some as well."

Keep it to yourself.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Well, yes. That one student did."

READING MATERIAL - The little books seem inconsequential next to the big pile of frivolous entertainment covering them.

1. "Critical theory books… What do you think this means?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "Whoever has lived here -- they have *some* education. And a certain set of interests."

RHETORIC [Medium: Success] - Interesting...

I put this point into Inland Empire.

MICROGRID GENERATOR - An old cylindrical generator is nested above the ammo lift, with makeshift electrical wiring running out of its side and across the floor. The cables disappear into the wall to your right.

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant puts his hand on the metal barrel, checking for warmth...

"It's cold now," he concludes. "But someone has been maintaining it. The wiring has been repaired."

"Where do these wires lead?"

"What kind of generator is this?"

Tap on the side.

"What does this mean? A generator here?"

[Leave.]

KIM KITSURAGI - He looks at the wall socket. "Downstairs somewhere."

2. "What kind of generator is this?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "Liquid carbon, I would imagine it takes *mazut*." He points to the open fuel cap on the side of the dynamo.

"The kind that's favoured by vagrants and fuel thieves. It's been a long winter… Long and cold."

RHETORIC [Easy: Success] - If anyone's stayed here, they'd need a generator.

3. Tap on the side.

MICROGRID GENERATOR - A hollow ring -- the canister is empty. Dust falls from the generator and down into the ammo lift.

4. "What does this mean? A generator here?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "I don't know. I am not a philosopher."

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] - That is his idea of a joke.

"I am. This generator proves the universe is material..." (Kick the generator.)

"I meant why is it here?"

Say nothing.

PAIN THRESHOLD [Medium: Success] - A small agony -- minuscule bones may have fractured -- but it proves the point.

"...ouch." (Grab your wounded toe.)

KIM KITSURAGI - He nods approvingly. He even smiles.

"I meant why is it here?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "Someone with basic electrical skills has restored it in order to keep the room warm. Maybe it's the *fire guy*..."

+5 XP

MICROGRID GENERATOR - The wind outside picks up suddenly with a faint howl. Inside it's warm.

5. [Leave.]

This great blast door must weigh over 10 tons. Rust peels off it.

SMALL BLAST DOOR - You see a small metal door nested inside a larger one -- a heavy steel blast door. There is a conventional keyhole above the handle. It's very small.

"What's on the other side?"

"How do we open this?"

[Leave.]

KIM KITSURAGI - "Another part of the island probably." The lieutenant looks into the keyhole. "The lock looks like it could still be usable."

2. "How do we open this?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "Maybe this is one of the doors we *don't* open?" He looks at the door, then at its bigger brother, then at the lock…

INTERFACING [Medium: Success] - He's right. It would be better to open its *big brother*. A powerful engine hangs under the ceiling -- it must control the blast door.

"You're right. We open the big one -- do you see controls anywhere?"

"No, this isn't 'One More Door'. We're opening it."

"I find us not opening it highly unlikely."

"Sure, you're right. We won't have to open it."

KIM KITSURAGI - "I think there's a console just southeast..." He shuffles his feet to stay warm. "Let's look around. Getting the blast door open seems like the best plan."

New task: Open the blast door

3. [Leave.]

This hatch is jammed shut.

FELD "INSULAR" CONSOLE - Green paint flakes off the monoblock aluminium cabinet. There are rows of switches on the front panel, a frequency band and even a keyboard...

Run your fingers across the keyboard.

"What is this then?"

[Leave.]

FELD "INSULAR" CONSOLE - The keys rattle like teeth. This keyboard hasn't been functional in decades.

"What is this then?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "The console of an antique computation device." The lieutenant points to the wires running into the machine. "The generator upstairs, with wires coming out. They terminate here."

"Could this open the blast door?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "Possibly..." He inspects the dials. "'Urgence -- Ouvert!', 'Allumer', 'Radiodiffusé'. It sounds like this device was used to control the electronics here. Maybe it still does?"

INTERFACING [Medium: Success] - This device was used to control the electronics in the room. It could open doors, control lights, function as a radiocomputer...

"Could this open the blast door?"

Turn: 'Emergency -- Open!'

Push: 'Light (Interior)'.

Slide: 'Radio' dial.

[Leave.]

KIM KITSURAGI - Nothing happens. "We need to restore power before using this, officer. The generator..." He looks upstairs. "It didn't look like there was fuel in it."

"We should look around outside. There are barrels all over, maybe one of them still has something in it..." He looks into the dim light to his right.

New task: Find fuel for the generator

INTERFACING [Medium: Success] - The boat engine!

"Or we could get some from the boat engine?"

"Failing that we could… go back to the mainland and get some from…"

Nod in agreement.

KIM KITSURAGI - "But, officer," he looks you in the eye, "then we would have to *swim* back to the mainland. Let's just look around, okay."

FELD "INSULAR" CONSOLE - The console stands by, mutely. 'Urgence -- Ouvert!' reads a dial key. 'Allumer,' reads another. The frequency band says: 'Radiodiffusé.'

3. Push: 'Light (Interior)'.:

FELD "INSULAR" CONSOLE - Nothing happens.

4. Slide: 'Radio' dial.

FELD "INSULAR" CONSOLE - The dial slides under the glass, silently. You make out defunct stations on the UKV frequency. The words "FELD INSULAR" are written on the band.

LOGIC [Challenging: Success] - An *idea* lights up in your head...

"Maybe we could contact Soona -- the programmer lady? She could open the door for us remotely."

No. It's too far fetched.

KIM KITSURAGI - "This is an air-gapped system." The lieutenant inspects the indicator. "*Off-air,* I think they call it. That won't work."

+5 XP

"Are you sure?"

"Okay."

KIM KITSURAGI - "No, I'm not, but it would not be very good military technology if programmer ladies could control it remotely. Also, it's ancient. Incompatible."

5. [Leave.]

Well, let's look around for fuel, then.

Water rushes below -- far down below.

🎵 Seafort

A firing slit. You can't see inside.

It must have been a direct hit to take out such a huge chunk.

The sound of distant cargo ships... signal horns echo on the water.

The ice cracks under your feet. Be careful not to fall through...

INLAND EMPIRE - A strange feeling... looking at the water. Maybe you should just wander off into the sea? Leave it all and walk in...

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Medium: Success] - With a bottle in your hand.

A bottle in my hand?

Why?

But it's cold...

Raise your sight.

[Shake your head.]

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Always.

Why?

INLAND EMPIRE - Perhaps there's someone there? Under the water. Waiting for you.

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] - Where it has always been.

SHIVERS [Challenging: Success] - In front of the video rental on the corner. At the crossing...

PERCEPTION (SMELL) [Challenging: Success] - Smelling of Tutti Frutti and betrayal.

PAIN THRESHOLD [Medium: Success] - Baby, you know it's going to hurt.

3. But it's cold...

INLAND EMPIRE - Yes -- cold and still. But love is warm, like the inside of her mouth.

Yes, please…

No-no-no-no…

INLAND EMPIRE - Oh *fuck* yes. Go there in your head. It's been days since you've thought about her. A week...

VOLITION [Easy: Success] - No-no, we're not starting with that. Not now. Not this time. This thought is over.

4. Raise your sight.

INLAND EMPIRE - In the still mirror of the bay you see Martinaise, reflected. Tall edifices of ruins reach into the water, like shimmering towers. And the shacks too. Pine trees and motor lorries, upside down...

Islets and posts like stepping stones lead into the water in front of you. Go. Step in... it's been too long.

5. [Shake your head.]

The winch is broken rust has eaten what remains of the chain.

The pain in your pelvis makes you wince. Then you continue.

The inside of the fortress... You make out the console and the blast door.

No way to jump down here without breaking a few bones.

The depot that supplied this chain is long gone from the coast.

A weathered artillery map showing coordinates in the Bay of Revachol.

An old medicine cabinet, newly stocked with drouamine.

At this point in the game I don't expect to be taking much more Health damage. Still...

LUM FUEL CANISTER

There is still some fuel in this battered canister. A litre or two. The metal looks decades old, the logo of the automotive manufacturer LUM has faded on the side.

MATTRESS NEST - There's a rain-soaked mattress on a concrete slab, only half-covered by the crumbling roof. At the head of it -- double embrasures -- firing slits, like two eyes in the wall.

KIM KITSURAGI - "B triple prime..." The lieutenant lowers his voice, stepping closer with his hand on his gun. "This looks like a good place to shoot from."

Inspect the mattress.

Inspect the wall.

[Turn away.]

MATTRESS NEST - A single-person mattress. Modern, civilian use. Brand name: Marjorie. There's a fuel stain on the cover, along with cigarette burns.

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Medium: Success] - And an empty can of beans on the ground next to it -- filled to the brim with cigarette butts.

Pick one out of the can.

Back off.

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) - The silhouette of a tobacco picker adorns the paper filter. The brand: Tioumoutiri.

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success] - Contemporary Revacholians prefer Drouin (a local blend from the southern islands) or Astra, the legendary cigarette from Graad. Tioumoutiri is favoured by older men for its paper filter tips, sweet smell, and added tar.

"Tioumoutiri. Like the ones we found at Land's End, remember?"

"Someone's been smoking Tioumoutiri cigarettes. Not a lot of that around."

KIM KITSURAGI - "I may have been wrong -- when I said it was unimportant." He stares into the can for a second. "This means the same person could have visited both locations."

+5 XP

"I didn't see any signs of smoking inside, though. If people live there, they keep it tidy -- this here may also be a smoking spot."

2. Inspect the wall.

MATTRESS NEST - There's a firing slit in the wall in front of you. Like a little window...

Touch the concrete first.

Look through the hole in the concrete.

MATTRESS NEST - Quite old, and grimy from years without cleaning by anything other than the rain.

2. Look through the hole in the concrete.

MATTRESS NEST - The springs screech as you lean on the mattress and crane your neck to look out...

INLAND EMPIRE [Easy: Success] - Trepidation. A tingling feeling in your stomach...

MATTRESS NEST - A small piece of Martinaise coastline opens up in the square in front of you -- like a tiny landscape painting, one kilometre across the water. The ruins look familiar.

On the left...

On the right...

MATTRESS NEST - A towering skyscraper, its top floors shaved off by artillery fire -- Capeside Apartments: Rue de Saint Ghislaine 33A and 33B.

2. On the right...

MATTRESS NEST - The red chimney and collapsed back of the four-story tenement in front of the Whirling-in-Rags -- Rue de Saint Ghislaine 10. The Doomed Commercial Area.

And between the two...

MATTRESS NEST - The box-shaped silhouette of the Whirling-in-Rags. You see a small fleck of white on the rooftop -- the upstairs window of Klaasje's room in the rain, reflecting light.

"Motherfucker."

"There it is."

"I can't be 100% certain, but…"

KIM KITSURAGI - "What does that mean? Do you have line of sight to the window?"

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Challenging: Success] - More than that.

"Kim, with a pair of binoculars, I would be able to see *inside* the room."

"Yes -- there's an opening between 33A and 10. I can see to the roof."

KIM KITSURAGI - "A pair of binoculars? Or a scope of a *rifle*?" He points to the makeshift bed. "You'd be prone, lying on the mattress, barrel resting on the embrasure..."

HAND/EYE COORDINATION [Medium: Success] - Cheek against the cheek rest, hand on the hair trigger. On a calm day like this...

"Kim, I could make it -- I could make the shot."

I don't want to boast…

KIM KITSURAGI - "Good." He pats you on the back, three small pats in a row. "I think we have it, detective. The origin of the shot. This is the *sniper's nest*."

Task complete: Determine where the shot came from

+70 XP

Level up!

VISUAL CALCULUS [Medium: Success] - Affirmative.

"Finally."

"Better late than never."

"*Why* didn't we come here before?"

"Boo-yah. Master cop work."

KIM KITSURAGI - "In our defence -- nothing pointed here. Many, many leads pointed elsewhere."

"You're right."

"Six people are dead. We could have prevented it."

-1 Morale

KIM KITSURAGI - "Don't beat yourself up, officer. We did not put guns in their hands, or get them drunk." He looks north, over the fortification, then adds:

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - The lieutenant pauses. Regret comes over him.

KIM KITSURAGI - "We will make up for it. Here. I feel it."

"Could the shooter still be... here?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "Where?" He looks behind his back.

"In Martinaise."

"On this island."

"Right *here*." (Point at the mattress.)

KIM KITSURAGI - He does not answer, just nods. With his back hunched, he looks around once more and says...

HALF LIGHT [Medium: Success] - He feels... uncomfortable suddenly.

KIM KITSURAGI - "We should move. Now."

3. [Turn away.]

You feel eyes on your back. Someone's watching, but you can't say where...

Back in the fort, I examine this bed.

SPRING MATTRESS - There's a greasy old spring mattress in the corner, resting on piles of softcover books. White linen and a pillow are visible under a worn-out karakul blanket.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Someone has been squatting here." The lieutenant inspects the bed. "The linen is fresh. Recently washed."

"How recently..."

"Do you think whoever slept here is…"

"There are signs that someone... lives..."

PAIN THRESHOLD [Medium: Success] - You force the rest of the sentence out through pain, thick as molasses, no longer able to hear yourself speak.

KIM KITSURAGI - "You know, officer..." He looks at you with a touch of concern. "You *can* rest here if you're feeling tired. I will keep watch. You could use some rest for what's ahead."

New task: Rest in the flak tower

"Maybe a little shut-eye, just an hour..." [Go to sleep.]

"No time to rest now." [Leave.]

I'm going to wrap up this update in another post.

#disco elysium #kim kitsuragi #harrier du bois #soona luukanen kilde

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theoutcastrogue · 5 months

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7+1 Classic American Pocket Knives

1) Toothpick, slipjoint folding knife, white plastic scales (shell knife, aka Handle Knife Patent), nickel silver bolsters, slender clip-point blade a.k.a. toothpick (not to be confused with the Arkansas toothpick, which is an ironically named humongous knife). Tang stamp "COLONIAL PAT No. 231064", 11 cm closed, 20th century (mid-20th, maybe?)

2) Fish knife, slipjoint folding knife, cracked marble celluloid handle with a fish-shaped shield, nickel silver bolsters, carbon blades: 1 clip-point and 1 saw/hook-remover/bottle-opener. Tang stamp "Imperial PROV. USA", 12.5 cm closed, c. 1946-1956.

3) TL-29 a.k.a. electricians knife, linerlock folding knife, rosewood handle with brass inset "TL-29" and lanyard ring, nickel silver bolster, brass liners, carbon steel blades: 1 spear-point and 1 wire-stripper/flat screwdriver. The name stands for "Tool, Lineman, number 29", originally from the U.S. Army Signal Corps. Tang stamp on the ricasso "CAMILLUS NEW YORK", and on the blade "TO RELEASE PUSH CENTER LOCK TO LEFT", 9.5 cm closed, circa 1960s.

4) Trapper, slipjoint folding knife, dark red bone (peach seed jig) handle with nickel silver shield "CASE", nickel silver bolsters, brass liners, chrome vanadium carbon blades: 1 clip-point and 1 spey. A Case model #31950 CV. Tang stamp on main blade "CASE XX" and 8 dots for date, and on the spey blade "USA 6254 CV), 10.5 cm closed, 2022.

5) Engineers knife, slipjoint folding knife, jigged bone handle with steel shield "USA" and lanyard ring, steel bolsters and liners, carbon steel blades: 1 spear-point, 1 bottle-opener/flat screwdriver, 1 punch, 1 can-opener. Identical pattern with an ubiquitous camping knife, later adopted for the U.S. Army Engineers. Tang stamp "CAMILLUS CUTLERY CO. CAMILLUS N.Y. USA" (4 lines), 9.3 cm closed, 1942-1945.

6) Buck 110 a.k.a. "Hunter", lockback folding knife, ebony handle, brass bolsters, stainless steel blade. Tang stamp "BUCK 110 USA" and date symbol, 12.3 cm closed, 2018.

7) Barlow, slipjoint folding knife, derlin (synthetic) handle, nickel silver bolster with fancy scroll work, carbon steel blades: 1 clip-point and 1 pen-blade. A Schrade #206, a.k.a. "Grand-dad's barlow". Tang stamp "SCHRADE USA 206", 8.5 cm closed, 1976-1983.

+1) Hunting knife or "Bowie knife", full tang fixed blade knife, jigged bone handle, carbon steel blade. The outlier, neither American nor a pocket knife, but made for the American market and advertised as a "bowie-knife" *, with its iconic clip-point blade. Tang stamp on the ricasso "ALFRED WILLIAMS SHEFFIELD ENGLAND", and on the blade "EBRO" between two Maltese crosses, 22 cm total, circa 1890-1920.

* For collectors, a "bowie" is a knife made for carrying (as opposed to keeping in your kitchen or toolshed), for the American market (regardless of where it was manufactured, the most famous ones are indeed from Sheffield), and somewhat arbitrarily, from 1827 to 1865 (from the Sandbar Fight to the end of the American Civil War). A more generous date range goes to the end of the 19th century, from 1827 to 1900. Everything else is up in the air: it can be big or small, simple or fancy, fixed blade or folding, with a clip-point or dagger or any other blade pattern, and of any materials. Today most people associate the term with a large fixed blade knife with an intense clip-point blade, regardless of when and where it was made.

P.S. I'm missing a stockman knife, and I want very specifically a Case medium stockman with clip, spey and sheepfoot blades, and a nice bone handle (pattern stamp 6318SS).

#tools of the trade #folding knife #knife #bowie knife #trapper #engineers knife #tl-29 #trs #sheffield #england #usa #multitool #barlow #trc #trp

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ask-de-writer · 10 months

Text

QUEST FOR ANCIENT CANTERLOT! An RP : PAGE 2, A New Plate, Old Memories!

Return to MLP Fan Fiction

Return to Role Plays with De Writer

QUEST FOR ANCIENT CANTERLOT!

An RP by @wind-the-mama-cat and @ask-de-writer

Scene setting Part 1 : LUNA AWAKENS CELESTIA

Scene setting Part 2 : AIRSHIP!

Scene setting Part 3 : ONE LAST VISIT

Scene setting Part 4 : SCOUT’S PRIZE

Scene setting Part 5 : REBOOT / START UP

Scene setting Part 6 : CELESTIA AND LUNA GO TO MEET TWILIGHT

PAGE 1, THE ADVENTURE BEGINS!

PAGE 2, NEW PLATE, OLD MEMORIES!

As usual for a developing story, new text is in BOLDFACE type.

Role Play begun 05/26/21

///////////////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

@wind-the-mama-cat

Learning to Fly

Wind watched as Choco and Rose put their heads together to design the potential wing suit. As she watched, her eyes drifted to Rose's wings. Once upon a time, from what she recalled from her memory files, her Unicorn overlords once tried to give her sisters a means to fly.

She shook her head silently at what she 'remembered”.

One of the Unicorn engineers had come across an ancient picture, which, interestingly, showed the Rom Pegasus Angel with her artificial wing. Using that as a basis, and nothing else, the Usurper King thought it would be a good idea to give the battle droids wings.

The results were disastrous.

During the first round of testing, the wings where too small, as they made them proportionately to Pegasi wings. They lost 20 droids.

The second round of testing went no better. While they made the wings larger, they didn't anticipate the increased power draw. They lost 30 droids.

Dark nudged Wind back to reality.

“Wind?” The black mare asked quietly. “What's on your mind?”

Wind looked down at the mare. “Just recalling somewhat painful memory files.” She nodded at Rose and Choco. “Did I ever tell you how the Unicorns tried to give their droids wings?”

Dark shook her head. “No. You never did. However, we did get reports from Princess Twilight and her scouts about falling droids with reported wings.”

Wind snorted. “The idea had merit, honestly. Instead of using ships to transport the droids, they could simply fly into battle. The way they went about it was foolish and pointless. Now that I think about it, that tends to be how they do most things.”

The earned a chuckle from the small horse.

“Where you thinking of making wings for yourself, Wind?” She asked curiously.

Wind nodded. “Aye. Perhaps.” She tapped her chest. “I'm very heavy. Even with my new legs that you gave me, I still weigh over two hundred pounds. Two hundred and fifty, if we're being specific. The wing suit that those girls are designing won't work on me.”

“So, why don't we design wings that would work for you?” Dark asked. “Thanks to the dismantling of the Renaissance, I have a surplus of material to use for pretty much anything. Even with the demands of the Hammer, I have lots of carbon fibre, copper, steel, aluminum... you name it.”

“Well, a fixed-wing style would work best, I think.” Wind said. “But I don't want permanent wings.”

“So, a backpack that straps to you, and the wings fold up and extend?” Dark asked. “That you can control with your hands?”

“Right.” Wind said with a nod.

Rose's ears quirked. “You guys are designing your own glider?”

Wind sighed. She had forgot how sensitive Rose's ears were. “Now that the cat is out of the bag... yes. Not a wing suit like your design, Rose. More of a backpack shaped glider, like your wings, but not powered.”

Rose thought for a moment. “Well, they would have to be powered. Considering your weight, an unpowered winged glider would have to have a wing span of at least 22 feet.”

Wind and Dark shared a look.

“Yeah. That math checks out.” Wind sighed.

“Now, if you were to power the backpack-glider-thing with a single, central jet turbine, that would provide enough lift for the wings to be smaller.” Rose said. “Not as small as mine, but small enough to fold up.”

“A jet turbine could work.” Wind said in agreement. “Like you wings, I take it?”

Rose nodded. “Only with 3 fans stacked on top of one another, spinning and causing thrust.”

“Right.” Dark nodded. “Really small fans. But how would you power it?”

“Not with my central crystal.” Wind admitted. “It powers me and has a high power output, but I doubt it would power me and a... jet engine.”

Choco was frowning. “This all seems very complicated.”

“I certainly am.” Wind agreed. “As a result of a combination of mechanical parts, crystals – both magic in nature – and Soulblade, I am very complicated.”

“So, why not make your glider like Fenrir?” Choco asked. Upon hearing his name, The wolf stood up from beside Dark's shop and wandered over to the group. The small horse giggled. “Oh, hey Fenrir.”

Dark kneeled in front of the wolf and placed her hand on his cheek. “You're just like Wind, Pup. Technical and magic in nature.”

He blinked slowly at her.

“So, a separate crystal to power my wings.” Wind nodded. “Sounds like a good place to start.” She looked at Dark. “Now, a large egg-sized crystal would be impractical. One the size that powers me would be best.”

Scout giggled. “Except your chest crystal took most of my magic to charge, and it's maintained by your food processing systems.” She pointed out. “A jet pack with wings would require more power.”

“Well, my crystal is the size of a lemon... and Fenrir's is the size of a dragon egg. So...” Wind thought out loud. “Say somewhere in between.”

“A phoenix egg.” Dark said. “As for charging it? We can use my solar charger. It worked for Fenrir after all.”

“Right.” Scout said. “We can all work together on this project. If Wind is going to be testing this new technology, and Choco is going to be testing hers, safety is paramount. Lots of prototypes and testing and scale models, just like Dark said earlier.”

The five girls got to work on their glider project. Rosie and Choco worked on their wing suit, while Dark, Wind and Scout work on theirs. Occasionally, the two groups would stop and share notes, and miniature models, and other ideas.

Eventually, after a week of testing, Choco's first prototype suit was ready for a test flight.

Wind's jetpack however was far from ready, as it was more complicated.

On the morning of the day that Choco was ready to go up, with Rosie's help, that is, Dark got a call on her mirror.

“This is Dark.” She greeted the other Rom.

“Dark? This is Nala of the Topographical and Plate Locator Scout Team.” Nala greeted. “We discovered a new plate, just below plate 16. We're calling it plate 17 for now. It's three plates below your plate.”

Dark nodded. “Have you scouted it yet?”

“Not yet.” Nala answered. “It's mostly desert. Naturally desert, to be honest. Not like the desert plate like plate 1, which formed when the unicorns took the water with them during the shift.”

“Wait.” Dark said suddenly. “Are you saying that plate 17 is originally desert?”

“We are.” Nala nodded. “It does have a stream however, which wasn't affected by the shift either, surprisingly.”

Dark blinked. “Well... that means...” She nodded. “Don't worry about scouting that plate. I'll go and scout it myself.”

“Roger that, Dark.” Nala smiled. “Nala out.”

Wind and the others looked at Dark. “Dark?”

The small mare smiled coyly. “Wind... you have Wind's memories. What's the one location that is desert, but has enchanted water that no magic can affect?”

“The desert that the Rom originated from.” Wind answered. “Where...”

Dark smiled when Wind trailed off. “Marchhare's original resting place.”

“Whoa.” The gathered Rom gasped.

“We'd have to go and look for ourselves.” Dark said. “But I'll bet a hundred bits that it is there somewhere.”

“Isn't that also the location of the Lost Wood mines?” Choco asked. “It's a story that we Forest Horses grew up on.”

Dark shrugged. “I'll have to go and see.” She looked at Wind. “Wind? I'll need you to come too. Your scanning systems and memories will help me.”

Rosie nodded. “That makes sense. As old as I am, I won't really be of help. Besides, I want to stay here and work on my suit.”

Scout pouted. “And since Midnight has me on stress-rest, I can't go either.” Wind smiled and hugged her.

Dark smiled. “We'll have to hire a glider team.” She looked at De Writer as he, Tia and Midnight came wandering over to help with the glide test.

“Some good news, De Writer...” Dark said as she explained the call she just got.

@ask-de-writer

Old De Writer thoughtfully stroked his beard as he thought through the news. Nodding, he agreed, “That MIGHT be a portion of the old Sunset Mountains and Celestia's Anvil. The many disruptions caused by the Shattering did actually open some new springs, so what was seen might not be Sha Ja Shehan. “There appears to be a modest river with a valley on the opposite side from the observed desert. It would not be at all unlikely that it is part of the old Red Branch and fed by the Maze. If so, it could even hold Morton's Swale and the ancient Wood Mines.”

The others were staring at him and slowly realizing what they knew but never really had to grasp. The amazement showed on their faces as it came home to them just how ancient De Writer was. He was speaking of those places and times as if they were recent memories. Places and times that were lost in the mists of time, thousands of years BEFORE the Shattering.

Choco looked over to Dark, whose eyes had gone puffy with tears and slowly sorted out, “Dark, if you find Marchhare's Lake, do you think that maybe he is there?”

Wings shuddering with suppressed sobbing, Dark sat and shook her head. “No, Choco, not really. After he came back from the Lake of Paradise, we could never speak to him at his Lake.” She gave a slightly broken smile as she snickered at the memory, “Unless he was right there beside us laying a stone for himself. The first time that he did that the Rom had been on the Roads of Equestria for 844 years. He thought that laying a stone for himself was a great joke!”

Putting her face in her hands, she wailed, “I miss him so much!”

Choco looked on helplessly. Knowing that Dark was immortal did not prepare her for the consequence of carrying grief that could last five hundred years and still be this raw. She quietly sorted out that Immortality had some serious drawbacks.

Midnight crouched down and simply wrapped Dark in her midnight blue wings, holding her and gently rocking the weeping pegasus.

She murmered, “We know, Dear, we know. Tia and I Laid the Stones for him ourselves. Sometimes with him along side us, cracking a joke. He was always serious about the actual Stone Laying and saying that he was glad that we were taking such good care of his bones.”

Dark looked up from her crying and wondered, “Even if we find the right place, will there be anything left? Five hundred years is a long time for his bones to be un attended. He could just be weathered away to nothing.”

It was Tia who thoughtfully answered that. “Dark, dear, if nothing else has scattered his bones but weathering, there should still be traces. Teeth should last and some other larger, heavier portions of bone. His harness had metal fittings. As dry as that area always was and, according to scouting reports, still is, those should still remain.

“There is another there that we might find as well. On the old river course side of the mountains was the Wayside where Sando went to the Lake. Finding him would be a wonderful treasure.”

Dark nodded slowly, “That is true. If this is the right plate, it holds a number of treasures, some of them are more valuable than just physical things.”

De Writer looked about and suggested, “We are going to need a big cargo glider to carry this crowd. I suggest that we all set up packs of supplies for exploring and then contact Air Trafic Control to see about getting a large enough glider to carry this expedition.”

It was Midnight who pointed out, “We mustn't forget to take along at least a pair of Stones. One for Sando's Lake and one for Marchhare's. It has been too long since they got that simple bit of respect and our love for them.”

Dark had to grin and pretend to calculate, “Let's see, five hundred years, at at least two visits a year, that makes about a thousand stones EACH. Me, Wind, De Writer, Midnight, Tia, and Choco makes about SIX THOUSAND STONES to carry. I don't think that there is any glider on any Rom plate that can carry that much along with us and our supplies!”

Midnight snickered and suggested, “Maybe we that have wings could carry the stones, IF we flap REALLY HARD. Then, the glider could be a lot smaller!”

De Writer snorted, “If you all were mimes, you couldn't find your way out of a box that isn't there! Let's all go and pack for the trip.”

Back at De Writer's Fair, the old pony quietly took Dark into his arms and gently rocked the small black pegasus. Softly, he offered, “All of us that knew him, miss him dreadfully, Dark. I wish that I could tell you that he will be there, waiting for us at his Lake. Not even I can tell you that without a lie. Wherever he has gone, I am certain of one thing. He knows how much you love him.”

She quietly sniffled, “I do know that, De Writer. It must sound really nutty to say this, but I want to show him how much I love him by playing Poison Grandpa one more time.”

De Writer nodded gravely as he agreed, “I actually do understand that, Dark, my dear. With you, it makes perfect sense.

“Now, about packing for this little expedition. We are going to need cartographic equipment and supplies to map the new plate. Let's see, a first aid kit, a tent and sleeping bags. Anything else?”

Dark grinned her shark like grin and retorted, “Food. You don't really need it and I can survive without it, being immortal, but I really detest starving.”

De Writer snorted, “Right. It is a comfortable habit and the others might not really like it if we forget it. Some of them will starve without it and Tia and Midnight just recovered from starving for five hundred years. They might not appreciate doing it again so soon.”

Dark was quickly to work packing things into neat bundles. She casually added a pair of picks and shovels. “Might need to dig some if that plate is where the old wood mines ended up. Could be useful for other things as well.”

@wind-the-mama-cat

Holding Close

Wind watched her “cousin” Dark gather their supplies. She knew that the Rom gliders were big, and could carry a lot of weight. However, with over six thousand semi-precious stones, and mining equipment, and food and water, not to mention 4 adult sized Rom, and Dark, they would need three gliders to get to the new plate.

She walked over to her now Wife, Scout with a thought.

“Scout?” She asked, as she sat down next to the Horse in the shade of their caravan, “I don’t suppose there’s a spell you could use to make all of our supplies feather weight, by chance?”

Scout shook her head. “Spells like that would need to be in constant use. Even for someone like Tia and Midnight, it would be exhausting.”

The cat-bot pursed her lips. “Darn. Looks like we will need to go with three gliders then.” She sighed heavily. “Not to mention, getting back up once we’re done with our exploring with all the added weight.”

“It’s a shame Auntie Esper isn’t here.” Rosie chirped as she doubled check Choco’s wing suit. “Out of all the Rom, thanks to the Spirit that lived within her, she could teleport unlimited weight miles and miles without breaking a sweat.” She shrugged. “She could move all of you down to the new plate, and all the equipment.”

Wind looked at Scout. “She could?”

Scout nodded. “From what I was told be De Writer, the first week Esper came to the Rom, she shifted 10 caravans and all the horses about 2 miles, all by herself.” She smiled at the thought. “Not even Black Lotus could have done that.”

Rosie looked at Choco. “Are you ready to test our first prototype, Choco?”

The young mare nodded. “Roger.”

The pink cat pulled the shoulder straps of the parachute tight. “I’ll be right up there with you, but it never hurts to have a back up.”

Choco nodded in agreement. “Better safe than sorry.”

Rosie pointed up. “I’m going to fly you up to the Ponyville plate directly above us.” She scooped Choco up Bridal style, spread her wings, revved her turbines, and took off.

Wind stood up. “I’m going to go help De Writer pack.” She bent down and kissed Scout on the nose. She walked over to the Blue horse’s caravan, and opened the door. “Need help, De Writer?”

He looked at her and smiled. “Can’t seem to find my Pre-Shattering maps.” He said as he shuffled through his bookshelves. “Mind going through my chest?”

Wind shrugged. “Sure.” She knelt in front of De Writer’s chest, and opened it. She gasped as the inside of the chest appeared to be as large as his caravan, and deeper. It also appeared to hold everything the Old Horse ever owned over his entire life. She looked inside it, and did a double take at the outside of it. “Uh…”

De Writer chuckled. “Just think about what you want, and it will appear in front of you.”

Wind thought about the maps, and lo and behold, a green, ordinary looking, shoulder bag appeared in front of her. “What the hay?” She grabbed the bag and stood up. “So, uh… I thought of the maps, and this old looking shoulder bag, um, appeared.”

De Writer walked over to Wind, and took the bag from her. Tears played at his eyes as a serene smile a came to his face. “Oh my… I had forgotten that I had this.” He looked at Wind. “This is Wind’s bag of holding.” He chuckled. “She took this bag everywhere with her. In fact, it was this bag that helped me design my chest.”

“It’s larger on the inside?” Wind asked.

“Much.” De Writer answered. “You are familiar with the concept of infinity, yes?”

Wind nodded.

“Well, this bag of holding… is infinite.” He explained. “Or more like a gateway to a self-contained dimension of infinity. She could put anything in this bag, any object of any size, of any weight, so long as it could fit through the opening, and carry it with her.” He smiled. “And to find an object within the bag, just like my chest, all you had to do is think of it.”

“And the bag… wouldn’t get heavier?” Wind asked.

De Writer smiled. “Exactly.” He reached into the bag, and pulled out his maps. “Here they are.” He set them on the table, and then reached into the bag again. He pulled out a pink, well worn, cloak. “Oh my…”

Wind’s forehead crystal flashed. “My cloak.”

De Writer sniffled and set the bag down on the floor. He then held the cloak with both hands and held it at arms length. “Yes, Wind. This is your cloak. You remember it, don’t you?”

“I…” Wind but her lower lip briefly. “Mama Dragon gave it to Wind… on her 16th birthday. It belonged to Shia, her other mother.”

“Indeed.” He brought it closed to his nose and sniffed it. “Wind loves this cloak. She wore it that night she… passed to the Dream World.”

“Passed to the… huh?” Wind blinked. “She didn’t travel to the Lake of Paradise?”

“No.” The blue horse said. “Even though she was a Rom, first and foremost, she was the Watcher of her World. Watchers… don’t really die. When they find their Dragon, their life force becomes connected to the Source. As they use the source, their Dragon, they age, grow old, and when the Source is used up, they simply fade away.”

“Where do they go, if not the Lake of Paradise?” Wind asked gently.

“The Dream.” De Writer answered. “They join the other Watchers, along with their mates.”

“So, Wind and Penny… are together again?” the cat asked. “In the Dream? Along with Mama Dragon?”

“I can only guess, but I certainly hope so.” He smiled as he handed the cloak to her. “Here. She would have wanted you to have this.”

Wind took it and draped it over shoulders, fastening the brass clasp. “Thank you, De Writer.” She looked at the bag. “De Writer… I think we have the solution to our weight problem.”

“Weight problem?” He repeated. “Oh, with all of our supplies.” He looked down at the innocent looking bag. “Yes. I do believe you are correct, Wind.” He picked it back up and held it out for her to take. “This is as much yours as it was the other Wind’s.”

Wind took it and held at arms length. “Is there anything else that once belonged to Wind? I mean, with Rosie here now, should she not get some of her mother’s belongings?”

“I understand what you’re saying, Wind.” De Writer sighed. “I actually do have something for Rosie, that once belonged to Wind.” He walked over to the chest, rustled around some, and pulled out a silver looking chain shirt.

“Wind’s mithril shirt.” He said as he stood up. “Her birthday is next week, and I was going to give it to her then.”

“Oh.” Wind said. “I…”

“Rosie is not the jealous type.” De Writer said simply. “Sure, when she first met you, she was a little sore about Soulblade, but she understands that the blade is not inherited, She chooses herself whom she goes to.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Wind was my daughter, and I want you to have the cloak and bag. Rosie has no need for them, trust me.”

“And she won’t think I’m… trying to emulate her mother?” Wind asked. “Become more like her?”

“No.” De writer assured her with a gentle tone as he put the shirt away and closed the lid to the chest. “But come, let’s go help Dark pack for our trip.” He picked up his maps, and The two Rom headed out of his caravan. “Speaking of Rosie, where is she?”

Wind pointed up. “Choco is about to jump of the edge of Rom plate #2, to test her wing suit prototype.”

9 miles up, standing on the edge of Ponyville plate #2, Rosie watched as her marefriend tested the flexibility of her wingsuit.

The wings were made from a very thin, yet strong, carbon fiber cloth, and held together using a light-weight from of rom wood grass. Each wing was ten feet in width, and in theory, could sustain flight, when not being pulled by a Pegasi, for 18 miles.

“So our goal today is to fly straight.” Rosie reminded her. “No maneuverability tests. We’re just seeing how the wingsuit performs under weight, and checking for stress points.” She smiled. “And testing a smooth landing.”

Choco nodded nervously. “Roger.”

Rosie pulled down her goggles, and watched as Choco did the same. “I’ll be right beside you.” She pointed to the Edge of the Rom Plate #1. “Aim for the Rom Gunner Battery. It’s about 18 miles away.”

Choco gulped and nodded, and spread her wings. “For science…”

Some time later, Rosie landed at Edge Battery #10 and looked up to the sky. She watched as Choco angled her body to slow her decent.

“Knees bent, Choco!” Rosie encouraged her. “Slow yourself, just like we practiced!”

Choco landed a little faster and rougher then she had planned. Rosie acted quickly and caught her.

“I’m shaking…” Choco said through chattering teeth as Rosie hugged her.

“That’s the adrenaline.” Rosie said softly as she stroked Choco’s back. “It will wear off in a minute.”

Choco took deep breaths as she tried to calm herself. “That’s one heck of a rush. You know… flying. Or falling with style.”

Rosie giggled “I felt the same way when I tried to fly for the first time. I was one. You get used to it the more you do it.”

Choco giggled too as she slowly stopped hovering.

“Hey.” A voice said suddenly.

Rosie looked to her left. It belonged to the Wrecker captain, Nala. A beige mare Pegasus with long red hair.

“We had sights on your flight the entire time.” Nala said with an approving nod. “You did really well, Choco.”

Choco smiled “Thank, Nala.”

The Captain examined the suit. “So, you girls are just going with a personal glider approach, huh? No sustained flight?”

Rosie let Choco go. “We discussed that. We just want to make a personal, short-range glider to use on the Penny’s Hammer.”

“18 miles is short ranged?” Nala asked.

“Yeah.” Rosie nodded. “Most large wing gliders have a glide ratio of 4 to 1. We were 9 miles up. So, we got a glide ratio of 2 to 1. Not bad for a prototype.”

Nala looked towards De Writer’s fair. “So, um, how are you guys going to get back?”

Rosie smiled and scooped Choco up bridal style again. “I’ll fly her back.” Her wings revved up as she took off.

18 miles later, she landed back in De writer’s fair and set Choco down gently. “You okay Choco?”

Choco nodded absent mindedly. “Huh? Oh. Yeah. Okay. Just… feeling overwhelmed.” She removed her parachute, handed it Rosie. She then unzipped her suit and stepped out of it. “I think I just need a nap.”

Rosie nodded in understanding. “Oh. Sure. Want me to wake you for lunch?”

Choco smiled “Sure.” She handed the suit to Rosie. “We need handles on the wings. Holding onto the wings by the top bar was really difficult.” She yawned and headed into her caravan.

Rosie watched her go, and didn’t notice Scout sidle up to her. “How’d the test go?”

The Catter started for a second. “Gah!” She calmed down and looked at Scout. “It went well. I have to make some changes to it, no surprise there. It is work in progress after all.” She looked towards Wind, De Writer and Dark packing for the trip.

“Is… that my mother’s…” She walked over to the group and up to Wind. “Is that My Mama’s bag?”

Wind looked down at her. “De Writer took it the night your Mother passed on to the Dream. He gave it to me.”

Rosie nodded “Well, that solves your weight issue.” She looked to De Writer. “Are you guys leaving soon?”

@ask-de-writer

TO BE CONTINUED

Return to MLP Fan Fiction

Return to Role Plays with De Writer

Scene setting Part 1 : LUNA AWAKENS CELESTIA

Scene setting Part 2 : AIRSHIP!

Scene setting Part 3 : ONE LAST VISIT

Scene setting Part 4 : SCOUT’S PRIZE

Scene setting Part 5 : REBOOT / START UP

Scene setting Part 6 : CELESTIA AND LUNA GO TO MEET TWILIGHT

PAGE 1, THE ADVENTURE BEGINS!

PAGE 2, NEW PLATE, OLD MEMORIES!

#QUEST FOR ANCIENT CANTERLOT #Page 2 #ROLE PLAY WITH @ask-de-writer and @wind-the-mama-cat

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eternallibrary · 2 months

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Officer Log 2 - Lars Rorschach

Name: Lars Rorschach Callsign: Iterator Manufacturing Location: Planet 4, Gamma Star Field Belt. DOB: August 5 Height: 189 cm Ability: 'lovebug.exe'

Ability Description: Iterator can separate his coding, and to some extent his 'spirit from his physical form. His coding is extremely prolific, easily able to overtake digital devices within the span of an hour despite firewall protection.

To a lesser degree, he is also able to do the same with people. Though signs of resistance are detected more often, and the destructive after-effects make it unsuitable to use often.

Source code has been copied and studied. No further testing is required.

Maintenance Protocol: His robotic body is to be examined and repaired quarterly; or after extreme activity. In the case of damage to his outer panels, they are to be replaced by medium carbon steel, following the specifications of the panels that need to be replaced.

( Personal Notes are below, as I have said before you can spare yourself melodramatic second-hand embarrassment )

8/3/1001.

I first met Lars on his doomed homeworld. We were not nearly quick enough back then, so we could only scavenge the remains of Planet 4 in the Gamma Star Field.

From a tertiary scan, I found out that everyone on his planet perished. All except him.

The last remaining sentient consciousness, and the last remaining paragon of that world. Everyone and everything had turned to ash around him save for some concrete and metal that was crumbling under its own weight. I learned this later to be his ‘body’ of sorts.

Everything was gone, yet he was there. Stationary, unmoving, but there. His drivers seemed damaged. Any sort of movement he would want to make would be impossible; so he was just standing there, smiling.

The mental logs from that day suggested he was under immense mental turmoil. But lacking any way to display such a thing left him locked in his own body. I was given the order to transport him onto my ship. Despite most of him being paralyzed, he managed to make his displeasure quite known.

Even then I thought this guy was annoying. He was utterly unresponsive to any questioning, dragging what was supposed to be the first day of diagnostics on him until weeks. Threats of violence spurred him on more, and any promises I made were met with suspicion. He claimed that he knew what we were; he said we were the invaders looking to either finish him off or give him use after sparing him.

Looking back at it, I’m not sure if he was all that wrong.

Eventually with my persistence and some ‘adjustments’ to his circuitry I managed to start the first step of maintenance after 182 hours.

He was an artificial lifeform of his planet known as an ‘iterator’. His body being a small component of a giant supercomputer structure that was the building around him. His right ocular sensor was damaged, his right arm was crushed, and his left leg turned non-functioning.

Those were simple enough fixes, so I told him what my plans were for maintenance and repair of his body. He told me not to bother.

He wanted to be left to rot, since he was yet to be terminated. While I understood where he was coming from – As I’m sure I wouldn’t want to continue being without the people I hold dearly. Still, it was not my job to be nice, it was my job to fix him.

While I would like to think he understood, I’m sure he still loathes me for something as selfish as that.

The damage on his components was severe, so I had to run tests on the remaining circuity that still functioned. I figured out quite quickly which part of him controlled motor function, as that was the one that needed to be replaced entirely.

I could fix that last, having a subject who couldn’t run away was useful if they initially failed to comply.

Using his other arm as a reference, I managed to build a crude replacement from metal sheets. I have since then been able to figure out how to fully replicate the nanobots that compose his body, but he insists on keeping the plated one.

His left leg was an easier endeavor, the invaders only seemed to have twisted it until the visible wiring snapped. Turning it back undid the tension and gave partial function to that area. I probably should have disabled the connection to that limb too, seeing as he proceeded to kick me in the face after finding out he could move his leg.

I informed him that the operation was almost complete, the only thing left was to replace his eye. He had so far accepted what happened to him now, though I expected some resistance at this stage. But he did not cry, he did not even glare at me like he always has.

Instead, I found him smiling back at me, still strapped to the chair, still having that ‘annoying white light’ shining in his face. My own words fail to describe such a scene, so I will instead provide a transcript for what proceeded to follow.

[ Location: Beta Star Field Maintenance Center ]

L: Ha! So, that’s it, huh?

A: …I’m not sure what you mean.

L: Of course you don’t know what I mean. You’re an evil man. Has anyone ever told you that, Ayn?

[ Ayn sighs, proceeding to take one of his tools from a tray. ]

A: You’re not the first one to tell me that, and you’re not going to be the last.

L: Well, you can ignore me – Honestly, I’m just laughing at my own expense right now.

L: You probably already have a file on me, so you know what I am, right?

A: An Iterator, an artificial lifeform.

L: A robot. Now imagine this – I get built for one purpose. I go into life, crunching numbers, toiling day after day –

L: Then suddenly, whatever good I was working for vanishes into thin air. I don’t have a purpose anymore, I don’t serve any sort of person. And I am left to rot.

L: I get brought to a place, the lair of the very same people that took away everything I had.

L: I get ‘fixed’ to be repurposed, and to serve under my new masters like a prize well earned.

L: I can’t even find a way to self-terminate. I have no choice but to go on like this.

L: And so, I’m awaiting whatever you’ll do to me. Consider this my concession. I don’t think I have enough strength left to resist anyway.

A: …

A: The others have called for you because they think you might be useful in expansion.

A: While you loathe the idea of your sole purpose now being an attack dog for us.

A: I think I could give you a new purpose. Today is the day of your rebirth, if you think about it.

L: Then what do you think of yourself? My god?

A: No, just someone willing to ‘help’.

[ Ayn grasps onto Lars’ chin, the other visibly attempts to struggle. ]

A: Whatever anyone says to you outside of this room. Know that my command supersedes them all.

A: You will live for me to work on. And you will not cease until I am done with you. Do you understand?

[ Lars stops struggling, staying completely still and silent until 5 minutes pass. ]

L: I can accept that.

[ END TRANSCRIPT ]

It is now that day.

I’ll get him something, it’s the least I could do.

#lars rorschach #lovebrush chronicles #lovebrush chronicles au

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viratsteelspecial-blog · 5 months

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Do you have any confusion about choosing the Steels and Materials?

Bridging the Gap Between Steel and Carbon Steel! … Remember, when it comes to steel, Virat Special Steels is your trusted guide!🔥

Steel: Steel is an alloy primarily composed of iron, along with other elements such as carbon, silicon, and manganese. It contains carbon, silicon, and manganese in varying proportions.

Properties: Steel has moderate strength. It is less hard compared to carbon steel. Steel is more ductile (can be shaped and bent). It is non-corrosive. Some types of steel (like nickel steel) are not magnetic. Steel can be alloyed with elements like chromium, nickel, and molybdenum to enhance specific properties.

Applications: Used in construction, automobiles, airplane parts, and various industrial applications.

Global Production: The steel industry produces approximately 1.3 billion tons of steel annually.

Carbon Steel: Carbon steel is a type of steel where carbon is the primary alloying element. It contains less than 2% carbon (without other noticeable alloying elements). As the carbon content increases, carbon steel becomes harder and stronger but less ductile and malleable.

Types: - Mild Steel: Contains 0.05% to 0.29% carbon. - Medium Carbon Steel: Contains 0.30% to 0.59% carbon. - High Carbon Steel: Contains 0.60% to 0.99% carbon. - Ultra Carbon Steel: Contains 1.00% to 2.00% carbon. - Finish: Carbon steel usually has a lusterless finish.

In summary, steel is a broad category that includes carbon steel. Carbon steel, in turn, varies based on its carbon content and properties. It’s essential to choose the right type of steel for specific applications.

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merakistar · 6 months

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wmass flanges in Qatar

Meraki Star Metals Oil & Gas Equipment Trading L.L.C. is one of the leading Carbon Steel Flanges manufacturers India and we produce flanges in different types and material grades. The carbon steel flanges have carbon, manganese, phosphorus, sulfur, silicon, copper, nickel, chromium, molybdenum and vanadium depending on the material grade. The Carbon Steel Pipe Flange Price List varies according to the material grade as well.

The WMASS Carbon Steel Flanges have different dimensions and strengths. The tensile strength is in the range of 485MPa minimum tensile strength and 250MPa minimum yield strength. The Flange ANSI B16.5 Class 150 is a medium pressure class of the B16.5 standard flanges. The materials used for the flanges range and the pressure classes range based on the nominal bore sizes and the wall thicknesses.

The nominal bore sizes range from ½ inches to 48 inches and the classes range such as WMASS Carbon Steel Flanges Rating with different pressure ratings. There are different types of flanges that are used for different purposes. The Carbon Steel Blind Flange is used to terminate a pipe connection permanently or temporarily. The permanent connections are made with welding and the temporary ones are done with bolts and nuts. The CS Lap Joint Flange is a special type that it has a lap joint on it. The carbon steel flanges are tough and have high wear and tear resistance. Please contact us for further information on the Carbon Steel Weld Neck Flange Dimensions, prices and further information.

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kultofathena · 10 months

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BKS Duelist’s Rapier In stock and available to order now

This well-crafted Rapier by Baltimore Knife and Sword has a blade of medium carbon alloy steel with a tempered hardness of 48-50 HRC. The swept hilt is steel and the grip is overlaid in a tight binding of braided steel and copper wire. The pommel is threaded and has a faux-peen for a more authentic appearance. Well-balanced and responsive, this rapier also has a swept guard with thicker bars to give the entire hilt reinforced protection for the hand.

#Kult of Athena #KultofAthena #Baltimore Knife & Sword #BKS #Duelist’s Rapier #Renaissance Swords #Renaissance Weapons #European Swords #European Weapons #Stage Combat #Sport Combat #Medium Carbon Steel #sword #swords #weapon #weapons #blade #blades

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gofancyninjaworld · 2 years

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the Cult of Bald

the enemy within

With thanks to @iwillgetridofyourangerforyou for bouncing ideas off. I’ve been joking/not joking about how Genos’s regard for Saitama is getting almost cultic, and I thought it merited a little bit more thought. If you're wondering how intelligent, capable people fall into a cult, this is a textbook illustration of how.

Right now his impressions are as follows.

Saitama can do anything.

He can do nothing.

They're very isolated.

Enemies are all around.

The end times are near.

For a guy who can do anything, Saitama sure requires a lot of Genos's time and energy. Even money.

Sometimes Saitama barely seems to notice him, and then he does, in huge lumps. So one moment, it's warm words and fireworks...and then we're back to off-hand, so Genos is never entirely sure where he stands w.r.t. Saitama. Otherwise, he'd not have been glaring at a dog.

Just to add a tiny extra grind of pepper to the whole spicy mix, just two days ago, Genos was advocating for Saitama with an intensity that would make your average Karen look like a kitten, with the upshot of Saitama finally having a legal place to stay after years of squatting. And here we have Saitama taking it like it's his due.

Now there's nothing wrong with greatly loving, respecting, believing in, and being fiercely loyal to someone. It ceases to be good when it starts to erode one's sense of self, efficacy, and purpose. When it starts to be parasitic on one's dreams and ambitions. When it starts to warp one's judgment.

The fact that there is no actual religion being promulgated, that there is no cynical leader exploiting the good faith of his followers, and that a lot of points 1-7 are objectively true makes no difference. Their world really is a dark and dangerous place, and Genos knows this better than most. There really are enemies all around, many of whom can take any shape they wish. The end times really are near. There really seems to be no limit to what Saitama can do and he does seem to be the answer to what ails the world. Human psychology is what it is and ONE uses it all. Even wholesome peak experiences are part of ONE’s weaponry.

What’s happened here? Not long ago, Saitama’s incredible example used to inspire Genos to dream of being far greater than he’d ever imagined and set himself amazing goals. He’s done incredible things since.

What happened to that sense of purpose?

I think the time-travel thing has been the real killer. Some people go ‘assumption’ but only untested assumptions are bad. And there’s no assumption involved in Genos continuing to believe that Saitama travelled through time. You know how it’s been mathematically proven that two large snowflakes cannot be identical? That’s cause there are many possible ways each water atom will add onto the growing crystal. Iterate this a billion times and you have more possibilities than there are atom in the universe. Now, you might not have thought of it, but metals are crystalline materials, with three-dimensional crystals where no two are exactly the same. Here’s a basic steel:

(source: https://www.quora.com/What-is-the-microstructure-of-medium-carbon-steel)

Even if one takes and inspects one small part from each of the cores, they will be identical. To any degree of precision one cares to use. The chance of the two parts being identical by chance is as impossible as there being not only two identical snowflakes, but two snowballs where every snowflake within them is identical. It’s no assumption: it’s plain fucking science. Impossible as it is, the facts are that the two cores are one and the same.

And then you look at their internal clocks and notice the time discrepancy between the two. And then the successive layers of ‘dirt’ on the time traveling core are samples of the atmospheres and soils it has been in. There’s a reason Genos hasn’t had it cleaned: that patina is its testable attestation. Anyone with the right kit can test for themselves and understand that it’s been off the planet.

If Tatsumaki tells Genos to shut up about Saitama because it was he Genos who was there when she was having a tough time, I can see Genos going 'ah, but Saitama would have brought you back.'

I watched Genos face off against a planet-scalping monster and wondered just what his next challenge would be -- there’s not a lot of runway for bigger monsters, after all. Not if a viable planet is desired. ONE smiled and has moved to the next phase: the deadliest enemy of all, Genos himself.

How exactly he’ll find again his sense of self and purpose remains to be seen. But hey, if there’s any one thing we’ve learned about Genos, it’s precisely when one is least sure how he’ll cope that he finds some way of overcoming.

#OPM #meta #Genos #the trap of believing in Saitama is a strong one #of course if there's one thing Saitama is insistent on it's that you have to find your own why #but then he goes and becomes so disgustingly powerful he makes everyone's efforts seem risible #and yet impossible as it it seems it'd be a crying shame for Genos to let go the very great goals he has #how he finds his way through this is going to be interesting

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hazeltailofficial · 1 year

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businessindustrialprofitable · 10 months

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What to Consider When Choosing Your Gasket Material and Type

A gasket may be a combination of materials, which is employed to stop any fluid entry between two static components. The success of the industrial gasket and materials depends on the sort of fabric utilized in the manufacturing process. counting on the sort of application, a spread of materials are wont to produce gaskets of the many shapes and sizes. Gaskets also are chosen supported factors like application temperature, pressure, electrical conduciveness, and resistance to extreme environments.

Types of Gasket Materials

While the materials wont to produce gaskets are numerous, on a general basis, they will be segregated into 3 types:

Fibrous materials

Elastometric materials

Metallic materials

Fibrous materials: These materials are made using organic fibers. The gasket sheet is skilled as a binding solution to assist develop the gasket material. they need excellent absorption properties and are flexible enough to be made into various shapes. Some common samples of fibrous gasket materials are:

Asbestos– In fibrous materials, asbestos is perhaps the foremost recognizable and popular material. It is often used for sealing applications during a sort of environment. Asbestos maintains its shape and strength up to 450oF. It doesn’t emit any toxic odor and is safe to handle.

Carbon fibers- As a cloth, carbon fiber has the power to face up harsh chemical environments. It is often used for applications that have high temperatures and pressures. it’s seen as a perfect material because of its low permeability. However, it’s not suitable for oxidization.

Aramid- An artificial fiber, aramid has been used as a substitute for asbestos. it’s a high resistance towards heat and organic solvents. Though it doesn’t have a freezing point, it does tend to degrade when temperatures reach 500oC. However, it doesn’t react well to salts and acids, also as direct contact with UV rays.

Elastometric materials: because the name suggests, these materials are produced using elastomers with various composites. This makes them extremely popular materials for a spread of industries thanks to their high performance and quality. a couple of well-known elastomers are given below:

Silicone- Perhaps the foremost recognized material for gaskets, silicone is well-known for its waterproof properties. It works effectively in extreme temperatures and is immune to UV and ozone elements. Silicone is often easily molded or cut using water jet cutting systems counting on the sort of application.

Rubber- As an organic material, natural rubber has good resistance to heat, and functions wells as a cushioning pad. When utilized in gaskets, it can recover to its original shape from medium temperatures. It is often wont to protect gaskets from alkalis, mild acids, and inorganic salts.

Neoprene- this will be used as an appropriate option for rubber. The advantage that neoprene has is that while it’s almost like rubber in terms of its resistance to acids and alkalis, it also can work against oils, petroleum, and other fuels. However, it’s not recommended to be used against hydrocarbons.

Metallic materials: Usually, the various sorts of metals wont to produce gaskets are a variety of steels, alloys, titanium, copper, and aluminum.

Carbon Steel– this is often one of the favored metallic choices for gaskets. The larger the quantity of carbon within the alloy, the harder and stronger it becomes. Unfortunately, the carbon content has got to be balanced with other metal properties otherwise it can lower the general freezing point.

Aluminum– Aluminum is understood for its lightweight, machinability, and high resistance to corrosion. Aluminum alloys are an honest choice for gaskets thanks to their weldability and strength.

Titanium– Considered to be almost like 304 chrome steel, titanium is understood for its lightweight, strength, and corrosion resistance. It is often used for very high temperatures, and it’s perfect for oxidizing media.

An understanding of the varied sorts of gasket materials used can assist you to decide the proper type to use in your industrial application.

Original Source: Industrial Gaskets

#gaskets #industrial #gasket material #gasket sheet #Asbestos Gaskets #Gasket Material #Rubber Gasket Sheet #Ready Cut Gaskets #Industrial Gaskets

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veryrealimagination · 1 year

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"Feed me poison like the strength in your bones."

Day No: 13 + 14

Prompt: Infected and Flare

Fandom: Murdoch Mysteries

Medium: fic

Trigger Warnings: none

SFW

Watts had backup from Crabtree today. Murdoch was back at the Workshop working on the pieces they needed to make another airplane for the Alliance. They needed more carbon fiber and the best place was the Deepest Ruins.

His rifle was more than enough to take on the tougher monsters that spawned from all the corners and underneath vents. Mostly, he was swiping up and making sure he got everything he could before they headed down. Every level, he counted the amount they had and how much they got from the raid. The fiber count was slowly going up, but it would take a while before they had enough for at least the current airplane. Watts was thinking enough for two, as they had been hearing rumors of Duvos getting bolder in some areas. It was likely there would be another commission for a plane.

“Ready?” Crabtree asked, shaking blood off the iron blade he was carrying. They both had took a breather to drink some tea and eat a small meal.

The younger man nodded. His ammo was down, but he wasn’t out yet. There was also a sword on his back, insisted upon by Murdoch when he volunteered to go for the carbon fiber. He hadn’t used it yet. While the Civil Corps, his uncle, and the Builders he lived with helped in strengthening his fighting skills, he still felt better with distance. “Enough for another level or two. I do believe it is getting late,” he stated.

The Corpsman checked the pocket watch he got from Effie the previous year. “Nine at night. Eight hours fighting, Llewellyn. That’s good, considering the stamina issues you had two years ago.”

He frowned at remembering the first few trips into the Sewers. James had been the one to go with him, having remade a bronze sword to keep his carbon steel up for commissions. He had barely lasted the first level, sucking down dried apple slices after it. It had been embarrassing. He hated thinking about how weak he had been.

Crabtree clasped him on the shoulder. “Two more. The next one should get you two enough for the current plane, if not another.” He nodded in agreement. This was only his second time going through these levels, but the current ones tended to attract the monsters that grabbed the stuff up and ran around with it.

The door opened and they both went into the small little room before the afflicted area. The vending machine only took Watts’s coin, which he managed to get a small boost for collecting items. It hadn’t helped too much in getting extra carbon previously. He passed it to the other man, who took it and gulped it down. He winced and stared at the stuff. “Tastes a bit off. I’ve never known this stuff to go stale or expire.”

Watts shrugged. “No divers, no rotation needed.” Crabtree hummed and went forward.

The monsters were more vicious to the two of them than in the previous levels. Several managed to get too close for Watts’s comfort, and he had to switch to the sword in order to stop them. A couple of swipes, and he hissed when a set of claws went through his arm. Dropping it, he blocked with one arm while waiting for the pain to dissipate for a moment before putting in full strength into his swinging again.

Crabtree wasn’t having the best of luck either. Several of the monsters were taking almost double the hits that they should. And there were a few more filtering in than he liked, considering that very few were dropping loot that they needed. The Rats were the worse. It was almost if they had training from someone to combat humans specifically.

One of them managed to get under his sword, and then between the joints of his armor to deliver a strong stab to his lower abdomen. Watts almost turned his full attention to the man, but another Pilerimp came at him and he couldn’t help the man at all.

He knew he was doing terribly, and they might actually be overrun if he couldn’t switch to his rifle again. After three more Pilerimps, he saw a swarm of Rats that not only blocked the exit, but didn’t seem to end. “Do I have a bomb?” he muttered.

It was only after he managed to push back a line that he had a clear plan. One of the rats was a firecaster. He didn’t have a bomb, but he did have the stuff to create an explosion. Once there was enough room, he dropped to his knees and routed around for the ingredients. Mushing them together like a dough, he winced at the feeling before throwing it at a caster two lines back.

A fireball was thrown directly at it.

In the aftermath of the explosion, which took out a few lines, Watts finally managed to get a hold of Crabtree to get them behind something. Two awkwardly held swords were dropped along with his rifle filled with the last rounds he had. Snapping off the armor, he pulled it back and shuffled the shirt up to see the wound.

The area itself was a simple wound, clean in the edges. It was redness that already started to form and grow that concerned him. “Something was on the blade,” he muttered. Some of James’s gauze was in his pack, but there were still more rats than he could safely deal with to apply it and get them out.

Leaving was the only option.

He reattached the armor and sheathed the sword before doing his own. It would have to be the rifle to make enough of a safe zone. Unless he gave himself a better buffer against the swarm. “Maybe,” he muttered. There was a bit of gunpowder left. He had charcoal and sulfur. “But magnesium, like an old photo flash.” Pulling out a duplicate ceramic bowl he had, he mashed down a fair bit of magnesium and sulfur.

“Crabtree! Watts!” a voice called out in concern. Watts jumped. He hadn’t expected Murdoch to show up.

“Over here!” he shouted. A rat that had been blinded screeched and he shot off the rifle to knock it down. The man quickly showed with his staff instead of a sword. “George gained a wound and it’s already infected. Something’s on the lance of one of the rats.”

The man nodded, dropping down. He’ll check things out himself once they get back to the surface. “What were you planning?”

“S-something flashy. I needed a distraction to get George out. Magnesium and sulfur. I have charcoal, but that would require me to be near when setting it off.”

Murdoch pulled out a line of rope that he had grabbed on the way up. He hadn’t taken it out of his pockets while working on a side project. “Wrap some of this around the charcoal, then make a trail to set it off.” Watts understood, and set the bowl up so the mixture was facing the rats slowly making their way over. He took out a piece and wrapped it around before sticking it in.

The older man had George over his shoulder and Watts made sure he had all of their things before trailing the fiber backwards. The rats knew they were trying to escape. Some got bolder.

*I don’t have a way to light this up!* He bit at his lip for a second before pulling out a second charcoal and waving it around. A caster hissed at him before throwing a fireball straight at his head. It caught the plank on fire and he dropped it on the fiber trail.

Having no idea on how the rope would burn, it was surprisingly fast and went toward the bowl within a swift thirty seconds. Once he saw the reaction starting, he turned his head before the entire place lit up like one of James’s fireworks. There was still a brightness that burned his eyes for a bit after he tried opening them to see anything.

A hand grabbed his arm and pulled him into the small little room that he and George come from. Murdoch had laid Crabtree down and quickly found the wound to put on some gauze. “What can you see right now?” he asked.

Watts looked over and barely saw an outline of Murdoch. “Not much,” he muttered, carefully reaching out to see if he was correctly seeing the man.

Murdoch sighed, “I will get Crabtree up and send Higgins to the clinic with him. Then, I will come back down and help you out. Understood?”

He nodded, allowing him to place him near the door. Watts would carefully shut himself away from the remaining rats while they went up. “How late are we to get you to come after us?” he asked.

“It’s after midnight.”

“Oh,” he said, slightly surprised. *That must be one tough level, then.* “At least we got enough carbon fiber for two planes.”

Murdoch nodded, “That’s good, Llewellyn. Now, I will be back. Clear?” The young man hummed, eyes closed. He hoisted Crabtree again and got himself five steps up before tapping the side twice to let the teen know he could move in and shut the door. The man knew if he took more than ten minutes, he would also have to drag Watts up as well.

There was already the stuff they collected, he didn’t need another body to lug.

#whumptober 2023 #no. 13 #no. 14 #fic #flare #infected #murdoch mysteries #llewellyn watts #george crabtree #murdoch shows up at the end #mtap au #whumptober2023

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