#air cooled spindle

[kuvamtechnologies]

Air Cooled Spindle Your Guide to |Efficient and Reliable SpindleCooling |

[nidi23]

HOW TO CHOOSE A CNC SPINDLE MOTOR?

The spindle motor has gained popularity at a crucial juncture in the history of precision jobs. The spindle is a cutting-edge technology that offers minimal vibration and light weight. It is the most important component of a CNC machine tool and has a significant impact on the effectiveness and precision of the equipment. Considering the variety of spindle products available, picking the correct one is crucial. It is virtually impossible for human error to cause minute differences. Computer numerical control, or CNC, is an automation process that uses a coded programme to carry out high-precision jobs in processes like drilling, grinding, and using jets and torches for this degree of manufacturing.

The consistent torque and constant power are the electric spindle’s two main characteristics. Both the air-cooled spindle motor and the water-cooled spindle motor versions of the torque are less costly. It functions along three axes: the x and y axes, which are horizontal and vertical, and the third z-axis, which adds a third dimension. The spindle, which moves along the z-axis to punch, drill, or cut material in accordance with movement along the x and y axes, is the essential component of CNC spindle motor. Unparalleled precision is needed for the spindle, which is supplied by a specific kind of electromagnetic motor. This essay will discuss how to choose a CNC spindle motor because there are many different motors available for various tasks.

STEPPER MOTORS

Stepper motors are used in older models of CNC spindle. These motors are either constructed with permanent magnets that pull the rotor to their housings or with magnetic housings. In the latter type, the spindle can spin at a faster rate than it could if the rotor contained a permanent magnet. Of the two motors that are most frequently found on spindles, stepper motors are less prevalent and less potent. Stepper motors are adequate for basic CNC applications, so tasks needing more force or precision require a different strategy.

SERVO MOTORS

A more advanced variation of the stepper motor is the servo motor. Despite being electric, they use motors with fewer poles than steppers. The transmission loop is a key distinction between stepper and servo motors. Stepper motors run on an open communication loop; the only type of data they can receive are voltage signals. Contrarily, servo motors employ closed-loop communication, which entails sending and receiving impulses from a controller. When changes occur, servo motors can compensate for them because they work in tandem with gearboxes to keep high speeds at high torques. Servo motors are the preferred spindle motor for the majority of CNC machine spindle uses due to their incredible speed and acceleration.

[mira1308]

What Is a CNC Spindle and How Can It Work?

what is a cnc shaft and how might it capability. CNC shafts, a portion of the time called hub drives, expect a huge part in machining. These parts are head to a speedy and viable cooperation, while similarly ensuring that conveyed parts are fundamentally essentially as definite as could be anticipated. The gathering at Preferable Pivot Organization is committed over helping their clients with sorting out these parts. Keep on examining to get comfortable with shafts and their overall capacity in your CNC machine. Find out about water-cooled spindle.

How Do Shafts Function? CNC axle

A machine shaft is a fundamental part, and is expected in a wide bunch of adventures, including the auto and flight regions. Axles are electrically or air-energized contraptions that come in different sizes.

Ordinarily, there is a shaft that watches out for the instrument, a motor, and a shape used to control various gadgets. Then, the shaft turns on a center. The turn is obliged by orders coming from either an individual or a PC. As the machine turns the gadget, the shaft cuts, cuts, refines, and that is just a hint of something larger. Likewise look into Air-cooled spindle.

Sorts of Fast Shafts CNC shafts come in many shapes and designs, but they are customarily divided into two groupings, all of which has its own plan of benefits.

Basic Engine Shaft: This contraption goes with an internal motor that can show up at a biggest speed of 60,000 RPMs. Since this machine can turn so quickly, it will in general be used in different applications. On the other hand, because it turns so quickly, it in like manner breaks down quickly. Its power and power might be limited depending upon the motor housing. Belt-Driven Shaft: This machine hub can go up to 15,000 RPMs. Notwithstanding the way that it isn’t exactly essentially as quick as a fundamental motor shaft, it has an external motor that licenses it to convey more power and power. It is also not exactly as expensive as an inside motor pivot. If you have a limited spending plan, this could be the better decision for you.

The Benefits of Utilizing Fast Shafts Quick axles offer different benefits, including:

Accuracy: High speed shafts are likely the most reliable machines that anybody could expect to find. Flexibility: These contraptions function admirably at any temperature, and can get through most changes in temperature. Sturdiness: Quick machine axles can manage routine mileage without isolating quickly. Monetarily sagacious: The precision of high speed shafts will help you with saving money not excessively far off. Low Help: despite the way that you truly need to manage shafts, they are not costly to stay aware of. What To Think about While Picking a Machine shafts The most broadly perceived question among CNC enthusiasts and associations including this development strangely is “the means by which achieve CNC machines work?” The most immediate reaction is through PC programming. CNC machines work by numerical coding, allowing the client to coordinate machine abilities. These not permanently set up by the arrangement of your structure: open circle or shut circle.

If you are looking for a shafts drive for your CNC machine, there are various decisions open. While picking a shaft, there are a couple of variables that are fundamental to consider, including its application, what sort of CNC machine spindle you have, and what kinds of materials you are working with.

Shafts Application Use by Industry Machine shafts have countless purposes across different endeavors. This consolidates gear that is crucial for cultivating, vehicle, structure collecting, and even flying applications. To the extent that the machine cycle, shafts expect a huge part in a speedy creation space.

For instance, metal machines are used to cut hard materials. Close by metals, these machines can in like manner cut plastics, as well as strong composite materials. Machines can be used for handling, which uses going cutters to scale back at a piece until it shows up at the best shape. CNC machines containing shafts can similarly be used in carpentry, electrical part creation, and collecting parts for computers.

In case you don’t realize which sort of shaft is best for your industry, associate with the experts at Unmatched Hub Organizations.

Axles by CNC Machine Type You should similarly contemplate the kind of CNC machine that you have. Presumably the most broadly perceived types include:

CNC Plants: Considering a three-center structure, CNC production lines use G-code or other noteworthy vernaculars, and are energetically used in the collecting industry. CNC Machines: These machines are often used for baffling and flighty cutting and require high velocity. CNC Plasma Cutters: Using a mix of compacted air gas and electrical bends to make palatable power, plasma cutters are used overwhelmingly in metal production shops. The plasma light is controlled along a turn, and is prepared for performing exact and clean cuts repetitively. EDM: Similarly called electric delivery machines, these machines are used during the time spent frivolity pieces with the usage of electrical glimmers. CNC Water Planes: While regularly found in metal shops, water jets are moreover significant in the cutting and trim of rock. These instruments force water through a movement of restricting chambers, extending its pressure and speed as it is showered against and through a hard substance. There are multitudinous CNC machines out there, and you need to guarantee you track down the right machine that resolves your issues. Do look at CNC router machine.

[bunnyraut43]

What is Water-cooled and Air-cooled Spindle:

People are overall a piece lost when choosing a water-cooled or air-cooled Spindle. There are several things that ought to be considered during this decision cycle.

Cooling in a water-cooled spindle is achieved by flowing water through an external guide into and out of an inside shell inside the Spindle. Subsequent to leaving the Spindle, the water is directed into a tank of water which is cooled by the incorporating air temperature.

An air-cooled spindle has a cooling turbine joined to the Spindle of the Spindle. Exactly when the pivot is turning it makes the turbine turn, bringing enveloping air into and through the internals of the Spindle. As the turbine is related directly to the Spindle of the Spindle it is turning at a comparative speed as the piece (8000–24000 rpm) which is fast! The turbine speed drawing air rapidly into the Spindle causes an ear-splitting crying upheaval, which in case you are running in your parking space at home, could upset your neighbors.

In case upheaval is an issue water-cooled is the best methodology. Moreover, the power movement speed of water is generally on numerous occasions better contrasted with air. Hence, a water-cooled Spindle will run cooler which in this manner will construct the bearing presence of the Spindle.

Not all things are horrible with an air-cooled Spindle, there is no prerequisite for fiddly water pipes and a tremendous tank of water on your shop floor which will likely be kicked over in the long run (we are dealing with this issue by making a shut circle cooling system with a radiator which will be open soon). A water-cooled Spindle is in like manner fairly more expensive than an air-cooled unit. Likewise, look at about CNC machine spindle.

Along these lines, to wrap up, if the disturbance isn’t an issue, go with an air-cooled Spindle as it’s less significantly an issue to set up, it’s more affordable and there is no tank of water on the floor. If the racket is an issue, you will require a water-cooled Spindle.

The essential differentiation between air cooled Spindle and a water-cooled Spindle is as a person:

The most extreme Spindle turning speed: air-cooled Spindle is 18000r/min, but water-cooled Spindle is 24000r/min. the higher the turning speed, the external layer of the workpiece will be more smooth at a comparatively short period of time.

The continuing to work time: air-cooled Spindle is cooled through the air, and when the Spindle keeps on working from now on, endlessly for a long time, the introduction of force dispersal will be not superb. So the air-cooled Spindle basically can keep on laboring for 6–8 hours, then, it should have a rest for a really long time, then, continue to work. In any case, the water-cooled Spindle is cooled by water, if you keep the water in the water tank cooling, the machine can work for a whole day.

A peaceful work area: air cooled Spindle is cooled by the fan, and the high turning speed same as the fan, it makes a more prominent clatter than the water Spindle.

Convenience to use: because the air-cooled Spindle has no water tank or water siphon, it is useful to use.

The worth: because of the different cooled structures, the intensity strength of the parts in the Spindle will be remarkable, so the expense is extraordinary. Air-cooled Spindle, considering everything, cost considerably more.

Working environment: water cooling spindles can not be used in places where there is little water or freezing. Expecting that the weather patterns are endlessly freezing, it is frightful to the water-cooled Spindle. Differentiated and water cooling Spindle, air cooling Spindle is more useful, and has fewer limitations of the environment.

The water cooling Spindle embraces the water cycle to cool the Spindle, so the cooling influence is marvelous. There is basically no upheaval and high extended life. Moreover, there is fairly badly designed because it needs to present the water siphon. For the air-cooling Spindle, no need water siphon, so it is very useful. Nevertheless, the uproar is greater than the water-cooling Spindle and the cost is higher.

For air-cooled Spindles and water-cooled spindles, each partakes in its advantage and damage. Additionally have some familiarity with CNC router machine.

[triquenchindia30]

[moineauz]

You were 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃 and Wriothesley merely watched askance.

The prison walls could not bother to contain your volition, that fact echoed through chambers and erupted in fervent pits of laughter. Yet, to Wriothesley, you possessed a spirit only matched by the infinite allure of vast skies: intangible and fugitive. Wriothesley's eyes have followed the nimble yet cunning movements of your fingers: observed how you milked the sky's breath and turned it into silk and honey. It flowed down your arms: sticky, smooth and subtly sweet. From there, you sink your hands into the merriments and ardour of the soul. Pressing it together like clay, weaving it until your hands bled.

You built masterpieces out of rust and the woes of inmates- spindling yet sound- from the tendons of your hands and the ladder of your ribcage. The Fortress of Meriopide has never been so- ironically-effeverescent. Brought to life by smitten winds and the rouse of a pleasant spring.

Wriothesley would sigh and shake his head as you drew closer to inmates and created harmonies with metal and dust. Thus, Wriothesley scolded you, furrowed his eyebrows and opted you stay with Sigewinne for your sake, if not his.

Nevertheless, you laughed in his face and bumped him on the shoulder. Bright and luminescent yet untouchable. You were a vagabond; drifting in the vast open ocean, lusting for the transcendent yet liminal space of creation and music. Ignoring the rest.

If Wriothesley could wager, you would contently drown deeper into the puzzle of creation, your enamourment with the raw and exposed enlarging as you sink in delight.

You were drunk on life, on art, on turning soul into spirit, of loving every smile except yours as you ran your fingers through the tuffs of his uncombed hair. Like a forest, wistful and brimming with memory.

Who could live like a halcyon? Who could touch the sky yet long for the seams of the universe? Who could drag the sun down to its feet and melt before it like a candle? Every curve and crevice that his callous hands grazed over; melted fondly.

Wriothesley gut spun summersaults at the thought of knowing that stark definition fell onto your sleeping figure- as delicate as a feather.

"Don't leave," mumbled Wriothesley as he pressed the warmth of his lips onto your cool cheek.

Eyes still stitched together, you respond, placidly, "I'm not going anywhere."

Your bare closet began collecting dust that dawn- a skeleton whose bones possessed the secret of blossom. Your bag overflowed with rust. Wriothesley drew crisp morning air into his lungs, and by the time his chest fell:

You were gone, like the wind.

masterlist.

quick little piece to get me back again... wc: 444

[ridhearts]

As you return home, a new friend is thrown into your arms - literally.

*note: this au follows a specific order! please click below for the chapters as they're intended to be read!

overview. ♕ chapter i. [chapter is.] chapter ii. chapter iis. chapter iii. chapter iiis. chapter iv. chapter v. chapter vs. chapter vi. chapter vii.

Intermission I - An Unexpected Guest

By the time you crossed the border into your country, night had already fallen. The rough pebble roads, torn apart by conflict, jostled your carriage, jolting you from the peaceful nap the roads of the Queendom and Savanna lured you into. Sighing into the plush wall, you looked out at the scenery with bleary eyes. Lantern-lit houses dotted the road, huddled far from the well-traveled path in fear. A light mist curled at the ground, gripping the sleek carriage wheels as they turned. In the distance, settled in the valley path leading to the blot-dominated chasm, a thicker, darker fog billowed up into the air - a grim reminder of your most likely fate.

As you approached the castle, you did your best not to worry your bottom lip between your teeth. Riddle would have your head for that, and if you happened to be given another invitation to go meet with the monarchs of any other countries, you had to look your best. Heaving another sigh, your eyes trailed up the abandoned scaffolding and broken sections of tower walls that were becoming clearer and clearer as the carriage drew closer. 

Your eyes were drawn to a sudden movement in the distance, visible in the spaces between the scaffolding. Where the dark, swirling fog of the boundary between your country and the shadowlands settled, one single plume rose into the sky. The thin, spindly tendril curled around itself, leisurely stretching past the light gray mountains and disappearing against the backdrop of the midnight sky. Something cold and uneasy sank to the bottom of your stomach. You had never seen such a thing happen before.

Scrambling to the other seat of your carriage, you pulled on the small curtain and reached through the window to tap the coachman, who yelped in response. Even though you were far from the disturbance in the boundary, you still shushed him - rather ungracefully, to your chagrin. His confused, startled eyes peered at you over his shoulder as he pulled on the reins, willing the carriage to a stop.

"Do you see that?" You whispered, pointing to the tall spindle of fog. The coachman followed the imaginary trail your finger made, squinting to make out the details in the dark. You watched as the wrinkles by his eyes smoothed and his face went slack.

"What in the world…?" He murmured. In front of him, the horse pulling your carriage huffed and shifted on its hooves. You wondered if it felt the coachman's sudden uneasiness. Clearing his throat, the coachman tried to sound authoritative despite the tremble in his voice. "Fear not. I will get you to the castle safely and your family can hide while we send out troops to investigate."

"What? No!" You hissed. The frame of the carriage window was too small to fit your head through, but you pressed your face as tightly as you could against it anyway. "Take me to it. I'll check it out."

"But your highness," he protested calmly, "I cannot allow any harm to befall you. Please, allow me to take you back to safety."

"If there's a breach in the boundary, nobody will be safe anywhere," You argued back. Then, betraying your own fear, you added, "Besides, it's such a small thing. Probably just the wind. All we need to do is confirm."

Your fake level voice was far more convincing than his had been. You almost let a proud little grin show on your face, but you needed to act the part of a leader. The coachman was almost convinced by your cool attitude, but he hesitated once again.

"Protocol states that your safety must be preserved at all costs."

"What does protocol state I should do when a member of the castle staff refuses to listen to a command?" You asked. The coachman opened his mouth to respond, then closed it. "Take me to the boundary."

Huffing, you threw yourself back to your original seat in the carriage, crossing your arms and staring out the window at the boundary. The carriage didn't move for a moment, the coachman clearly getting his bearings. You tried to embody Riddle - the petulant, self-assured version of him, the one who would never let a member of castle staff disregard his word - but something gnawed at you. After all, you weren't raised to be an absolute authority or a strict ruler. You were raised with good old common-folk manners.

Sighing once more, this time much more dramatically, you crawled back to the window behind the coachman and gingerly pulled aside the curtain. "Take me to the boundary, please. And thank you."

A beat. The coachman cursed under his breath, then the carriage started to move.

Once you arrived at the boundary, you threw open the door to the carriage and stepped out before the wheels stopped turning. The coachman called out for you while simultaneously swearing at the horse for stopping so slowly. You stopped in your tracks, eyes fixed on the mingling fog, weightless white twining with deep, dominating, inky black. There was a single spot directly beneath the rising plume that looked a little thinner than the rest of the boundary, like a gaping void that could swallow you up. With a tentative step backwards, you shouted for the coachman.

“Do you have a sword?” You asked over your shoulder, unwilling to take your eyes off of the breach. The coachman wordlessly walked to you, his shoes scraping across the loose gravel until he stopped at your side. When you held your hand out for the sword, he looked at you as if you were insane.

“Your majesty, surely you don’t expect me to allow you to approach the boundary by yourself.”

“I have military training.”

“As do I. We would not allow the royal family to go so far from home without the proper protection.”

Casting a sidelong glance to the coachman, you nodded once, firm and assured. If you hadn't been in your serious battle-ready mode, you would've flushed at having overlooked such a sensible detail. The two of you crept closer to the opening. Your footsteps were careful, purposely as silent as they could be on the rocky ground. Your legs kicked up some of the white fog, the two of you wading through it like knee-high waters. The fabric of your rumbled clothing bunched at the bottom, effectively chilling your ankles in the cool night air. The cavernous abyss waited for you, watching the two of you move with a languid lethargy, two startled deer approaching a lion waiting to pounce.

When you accidentally kicked a small shower of pebbles, both you and the coachman froze. Where the shadows and the fog were twirling around was now completely, utterly still. No wind dared to blow; no human dared to breathe. Then, the unmistakable sound of a twig snapping caught your attention.

“GNYAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

Something small and black flew out of the breach, almost as if it had been propelled by a canon. The coachman stepped in front of you in a flash before you could even lift your arms up to your face. He held the sword defensively, bunting the creature out of the air. Startled blue eyes stared up at the coachman for a split second, while blue flames licked out of the creature’s ears and illuminated its cat-like face. The coachman faltered, and the creature struck.

It jumped on the coachman’s head, digging its claws into his scalp and yowling louder than you’ve heard any other animal scream. The coachman dropped his sword and stumbled back, trying to coax the animal’s claws out of his head and pull it off at the same time. Tripping over his own feet, the coachman landed flat on his back and you dove for the sword.

You didn’t have a moment to worry about whether or not you might hit the coachman. The moment you skidded to a stop beside him, you raised the sword above your head and put all your weight behind the swing. The creature noticed the shadow you cast and looked up at you, panic flashing in its eyes when it registered the sword.

“W-WAIT!” It yelled in plain English.

You stopped, nearly teetering over from the momentum of the sword. The coachman rolled out of the way, picking the creature up by the scruff of its neck. All the while, the creature yelled and complained in words you could understand, though its body hung limply from the coachman’s hand. While both you and the coachman panted to catch your breath, you looked to the boundary, only to see that the breach had closed.

“What is that thing?” You asked once you caught your breath, staring at the creature. It watched you with a flat, unamused expression. You almost thought it was pouting.

“I…have no idea,” The coachman admitted. Realizing the boundary was solid, he huffed and held out his hand. “Give me the sword. I’ll finish the job-”

“WAIT! No!” The creature wailed, kicking its legs as much as it could. The coachman furrowed his brows, focusing on keeping his grip on the creature firm as it wriggled.

You gestured for the coachman to relax before standing in front of the creature. “You can talk?”

“Duh! Don’t you have ears?” The creature responded. Its tone was dripping in pure pomposity.

“How did you get through the boundary?”

“I’m the great Grim! I can do anything!” It said with a self-assured smirk. You and the coachman exchanged exasperated glances.

“Such a powerful, unidentifiable creature poses a threat to national security, wouldn’t you say?” You asked the coachman. He nodded sagely while Grim’s eyes darted between the two of you, panicked.

“Might I suggest the dungeon, your majesty?” He asked.

“Ah! Wait! No, let me explain!” Grim insisted, wriggling his legs again. “I - I don’t actually know, okay? I was lookin’ for food, got too close to the border, and it just spit me out!”

“What were you doing in the Shadowlands?” The coachman asked firmly. Grim shrugged as best as he could while in his grasp.

“I dunno! I think I lived there? But, to be honest, I don’t really remember…”

You and the coachman exchanged looks again, clearly dubious. Grim’s stomach grumbled almost as loudly as his earlier yowling.

“What should we do?” The coachman murmured. His eyes narrowed on the dejected creature in his hands - clearly, he wanted to get rid of the noisy nuisance. A sympathetic string was pulled in your heart, though, and as you looked at the creature with tears in his eyes, you couldn’t just leave him here to die.

“I think I should welcome my first royal guest,” You answered. Then you reached out and collected Grim in your arms, holding him like a baby. He shrank into you, probably wanting to stay as far away as possible from the coachman. “He may remember something and be able to give us valuable information about the Shadowlands. Besides, he’s in our country now, and I refuse to let any of my people go hungry.”

Though he appeared utterly disappointed, the coachman didn’t put up a fight about your official decision. He held the door open for you instead, making sure to give Grim a cold glare before taking his spot at the front of the carriage. Finally, you would make it home.

“You’re way more reasonable than that guy,” Grim muttered. You tried not to chuckle at your coachman’s expense.

By the time you were allowed to return to your room, the sky had turned a deep sapphire blue, trying to keep the last cover over the world against the rising sun's persistence. Processing Grim wound up taking hours, because, apparently, he was a creature composed entirely of mysteries.

The first thing you had to do was debrief your father on the situation. After answering a generous amount of questions about the momentary breach, you explained how a catbeast had been launched out of the shadowlands and into your arms. Your father was a curious and courageous man, so you led him to the dining room where Grim was feasting on some bread and meats. The two of you went unnoticed while he gobbled up his food in record time.

“What do we do with him?” You whispered, watching with morbid interest as he gulped down his food. When not mistaken for a terrifying threat to your country and the entire continent, he was sort of cute…in an annoyingly endearing way.

Your father hummed thoughtfully. “Well, I can't say I know. Are you certain he isn't dangerous?"

You shrugged. Grim seemed like a lot of things - arrogant, reckless, gluttonous - but dangerous didn't seem to be in his wheelhouse. Not when he was so scared of your clumsy attempts to disarm him, or how he curled into you to avoid the coachman's wrath.

"Fairly certain," you answered. "I know that anything from the Shadowlands should be treated as a threat, but look at him. He's different. He's more sentient than the phantoms and he's been docile ever since we stopped trying to attack him. It didn't feel right leaving him to starve…or cause panic if he was spotted in town."

"I think you made the right choice," With a nod, your father waved for one of the guards nearby to approach. "However, the coachman wasn't incorrect in his caution. We'll keep him locked in one of the unfinished guest rooms until we figure out how much of a threat he is."

"All by himself?" The guards approached Grim then, gently leading him towards the new quarters your father assigned. Grim didn't put up much of a fight, satiated by the food and the promise of a bed.

"Better than the dungeon, wouldn't you say?"

"Have the dungeons been repaired already?" During the war, the revolutionary forces staged a raid to free the political prisoners locked beneath the castle. Your father always told the story of smoke and gnarled metal like it was an old hero's tale and not his own doing. As he reported, the dungeons suffered massive damage and were nigh on unusable once everybody cleared out. Perhaps it was ironic that now he was the one in charge of cleaning up his own mess.

He averted his gaze, indicating that no, they had not been fixed and that was why Grim was being afforded such luxurious accommodations. You expected a spark of indignation to flash inside your chest, but you could see the logic behind the blasé way your father talked about imprisonment. Allowing Grim inside the castle at all was a gamble. Before you could trust his intentions, you had to learn something about him. Even then, there was no guarantee that he wouldn’t succumb to blot exposure at some point. Keeping him on lockdown was the most sensible option.

“Alright,” You agreed. “I’ll be checking on him every day, then.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Giving you an affectionate pat on the head, your father turned and went to give orders to those who would be keeping Grim under watch.

Finally, you could sleep.

As it turned out, Grim was a destructive force.

The first few days, though he complained about being held prisoner, he was easily placated with food. When you asked him questions, he got a little irritated after the first few, but his tune changed quickly once you offered snacks in exchange for true answers. He didn’t cause large amounts of trouble for the guards who tended to him when you couldn’t, even though he liked you the best.

Then he got restless, and things got a little more difficult.

Upon entering his room, you saw that the ends of the bedsheets and all of the curtains had been ripped to shreds. Grim sat in the middle of the room, postured much like a housecat, watching the door in smug satisfaction. For a moment, you weren’t sure what to do with the tattered scraps of cloth strewn around the room. Instead, you silently shut the door and instructed the kitchen staff to withhold dessert from him.

He let you have it the next morning, bemoaning how you starved him and your kingdom clearly didn’t know how to treat guests. Then, catching the glint of your silver crown as you shook your head in exasperation, he had the audacity to try and bargain for answers. He just wanted a couple of jewels! It wasn’t anything a monarch would miss, surely.

When you wouldn’t cave to his demands, he took to escape attempts. The first time, he nearly made it out of the front doors, but you dove for him and crashed on the hard, polished floors. He kicked and squirmed in your arms, yowling about wrongful imprisonment and tyrannical rulers. His tune didn’t change after you personally carried his dinner up to his room.

At wits end, you decided to try to dine with him and maybe reestablish the shaky alliance you formed with him on that first night. The guards opened his door for you, standing behind you in a defensive stance in case he decided to bolt again. Having smelled the food, Grim decided against running and instead sat expectantly at the small tea table in his room.

When you sat across from him, he barely paid you any attention, favoring the food in his bowl instead. It was beef stew, the biggest meal the chefs had prepared in weeks. You were hardly wanting for sustenance, but after many of the fields in the land had been destroyed and livestock confiscated during the war, everyone had to ration their meat and grain to get by. That included your family - after all, it would hardly make sense for you to overthrow a king for misallocating resources, only to do the exact same thing once you were in power.

“Finally! Some good grub!” Grim cheered with his mouth full. You huffed, taking a dainty sip of the broth from your spoon. As you watched Grim shove his face into the bowl, broth dripping from the fur on his chin, you wondered if this was how Riddle felt when he first met you and inwardly cringed.

“I’m glad you like it,” you tried to respond gracefully, though you were unsure if Grim could hear you over the sound of his own slurping. Sighing, you decided to let him eat before grilling him with questions.

Grim was halfway through with his bowl when he broke the silence - which didn’t take very much time at all. “By the way, what gives? You only break out the good stuff when you’ll be eating what I eat?”

“I’ve been eating the same thing as you have the entire time.”

“Well then, why is your food so disappointing?” Masking your emotions was an art you hadn’t quite mastered. You could feel your eyebrows furrowing deeply, holding Grim in a disapproving gaze with a matching scowl. “Come to think of it, even your castle’s falling apart! What kind of country is this?”

Slowly, you let your spoon rest in its bowl with a soft tink. This got Grim’s attention, and he watched as you interlocked your fingers and rested your chin on your hands. “Tell me this first, Grim. What do you know about the current affairs of the continent?”

He cocked his head to the side, inquisitive. “Not much. Politics are boooooring.”

“Well then, allow me to bring you up to speed. My family has only been in power for a few months. We overthrew the last king for being irresponsible in his politics. The war destroyed parts of this castle and many of our fields. Reconstruction takes time, as I’m sure you could surmise.”

At the word war, Grim’s ears drooped and he flinched away. You continued, keeping your voice even. “The barrier you jumped through is a thin line of magic that is keeping the Shadowlands away from us. Should that barrier fail, we would be unable to defend ourselves. We are rationing our supplies and focusing on building defenses for our people rather than opulence for our castle. That is why, up until now, you were not served ‘the good stuff’.”

Grim was silent for a moment, staring deep into his stew as if his image would change into some kind of prophetic vision. “I-I didn’t know…”

Unsure if you could respond civilly, you instead took a bite of the piece of bread beside your bowl. You could feel Grim watching as you ripped into it, not bothering to watch for falling crumbs or opening your mouth to a disgraceful degree. “You know, it would be helpful if you could remember something about the Shadowlands, rather than tear through the room decor with your claws.”

“But nothing’s coming back to me!” He protested. “Will you just throw me out once you realize that? Why bother keeping me around?”

“Because,” you answered coolly, “we were left on our own by the countries around us when we needed them. I don’t intend to let anybody else be left behind.”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment before you turned back to your food. A second later, Grim did the same, eating much more appropriately than before. You didn’t share another word that night, but it still felt like progress.

After gaining a little insight, Grim was a little less combative. Your father was finally able to get a trusted mage to analyze Grim for any dangerous side effects of exposure to blot, and Grim let himself be poked and prodded at with minimal complaint.

“Amazing,” The mage murmured, running the tips of his fingers through the blue flames of Grim’s ears. They started to twitch in response, and Grim glared at the mage from the corner of his eye. 

After a few tests of his magical aptitude - which was a little out of control, but would be able to be controlled with a magestone - the mage ended his examination. He couldn’t find any noticeable signs of aggression and left after he assured you that Grim shouldn’t cause any blot related problems. Having officially been cleared, you allowed Grim to accompany you throughout the castle, walking him through the slightly overgrown gardens and showing him which rooms were intact. Along the way, Grim scurried after you, cracking jokes and bumping into tables as his claws skidded across the hard floors. Other than a few narrow brushes with some expensive vases, he proved himself to be good company.

As the days passed, you gave Grim small tasks to help you. He retrieved Riddle’s letters and ran yours to the messenger when she stopped by. He was also proving to be a good listener, even if he preferred to talk on and on about how he could blow you out of the water with his magical prowess if only you allowed it. You didn’t want him to spiral out of control, though, and he actually listened to your instruction…on this matter, at least.

Without really meaning to, Grim became your shadow and accompanied you everywhere. He was granted a seat at the dining table and was even allowed to be present while you discussed more official matters with your family. Your siblings were fascinated by him, and while they got along with him well, Grim was known throughout the castle as yours. Eventually, he even began sleeping in your room with you (after you made him promise that he wouldn’t destroy the curtains.) 

As you were preparing to peel back the covers and fall asleep one night, you huffed at Grim curling up on your pillow. You scooped him up, watching as his limbs hung down limply beneath him. He protested as you tossed him on the other pillow and fell on your spot before he could reclaim it. Muttering beneath his breath, Grim began kneading at the pillow and trying to get comfortable again.

“If you don’t want your spot taken, maybe you should get to bed earlier,” he murmured. It was a backwards approach to showing concern for your wellbeing, but you were beginning to get used to that.

“There’s so much to do…” Throwing an arm over your eyes, you groaned quietly into the moonlit room. “Besides, you should be grateful you have a home instead of stealing other people’s places.”

“Home…” As stealthily as you could, you peeked open one eye and watched Grim. In the powder blue light of the moon, his wide eyes seemed even more striking than usual. They practically glowed as brightly as the fire in his ears, yet neither were so bright that it hurt your own eyes to watch him. His three-pronged tail flickered in thought as he traced the floral pattern on your blankets absently. “I’ve never had one of those before, I think.”

A familiar hollow opened up in your chest, the one that pulled you towards Grim and made you want to help him. You were more similar than anybody cared to notice, after all. Life in a treacherous land made you both a little tough, a little reckless - and now that the storm had subsided for a while, you had to adjust to something entirely new. Hopefully, that something would be permanent. But everything could come crashing down in a moment, sending you both back to hell.

You doubted Grim would agree if you said anything - after all, he couldn’t remember much of anything before meeting you. Even if he did agree, it wasn’t like he’d tell you. Instead, you kept your fondness closely guarded and instead turned to face him, brushing a gentle finger down the bridge of his nose a few times.

“How did it feel?” You asked quietly. “Not having a home, I mean. If you can remember.”

That was where you differed. At least you had your memories of your home, and they were fond. At least you felt like you belonged in this country. At least you could be certain the blot hadn’t entirely changed you. Yet.

“Free,” Grim answered cheekily. But instead of smirking at you, he kept his chin on his front paws, pensive. “Lonely.”

“Mind keeping me company, then?”

Snapping out of his reverie, Grim finally gave you a signature smug grin. “Even your lame rations beat foraging for berries every day.”

Despite your fondness for him, you were not too keen on being Grim’s babysitter for the rest of your life, so you began to concoct a plan to put him to use. At your request for his audience, your father listened to your proposition and nodded thoughtfully as you explained Grim’s progress and the trust you were building with him.

"Ah, I don't know…" Your father mused when you were finished, stroking his chin. "A pet is a big responsibility."

"I don't think he would qualify as a pet," you corrected, though you were entirely unsure if what you said was true. After a moment of thinking, you said, "But running a kingdom is an even bigger responsibility and you're trusting me with that!"

"So I am," your father agreed, slowly grinning.

Days later, after a small magestone had been affixed inside a simple pendant, you searched the castle for Grim. You found him on a balcony overlooking the entrance to the castle, the peaks of nearby cottages visible above the stony walls. He didn’t turn towards you when you opened the door, but he did swish his tail in acknowledgement.

“I have a gift for you,” You said, and he gave you his full attention.

“Don’t leave me hanging!!” He insisted, craning his neck as if he could see behind your back. Stifling a laugh, you presented the magestone to him and watched as he jumped up in excitement. “What are you waiting for? Put it on me!”

“Stop moving then!” Threading a piece of silver ribbon through the top of the pendant, you gestured for Grim to turn around. He did, showing his back so you could tie the ribbon in a neat bow.

“We need to find a mirror. I bet I look the coolest!” Finally calming down, Grim narrowed his eyes. “Wait a minute. What’s the catch?”

“No catch, though I do have a separate proposition,” You answered. Grim sat expectantly, and you wondered why he insisted he wasn’t a cat when he acted so much like one. “How would you like to be my royal advisor?”

Grim blinked at you for a few moments, processing your request. When he finally pieced things together, he leapt up and began prancing along the railing, recklessly enough that you worried he might tip over and fall. “Well, obviously you’d be desperate for The Great Grim’s advice! You’re smart to take advantage of such a rare opportunity for such amazing help. My first suggestion: make beef stew the national dish!”

You sighed, letting him go on his excited tangent. There was still work to be done - even more than usual, now that you had to train Grim - but at least now you didn’t feel like you were on your own.

[greyskyflowers]

✨🌙 Magic AU ideas for fun ✨🌙

~ Please credit me if you use any of these.

🕸️ Ink spiders

Spider like creatures that tend to live in places with lots of ink (think libraries, book stores, antique shops, etc).

Most people think the black spindling legs are the creature and it's made of ink (hence the name), but the spiders are actually made of the spaces between words, the black ink is the shadow. They're very thin and you have to get close and look sideways at them to faintly see their actual bodies, which almost look like very thin glass threads. More of a distortion in the air than an actual image. Leave ink splatters when startled and make little clinking noises like tea cups when they get curious enough to climb something you've left close enough to the page.

**Think that photo of camels in desert where people think shadows are the camels

🚪Little shops in between the books on shelves in antique and bookstore.

They look like little miniature houses/apartments but they aren't fond of people lingering so if you look away they'll shut the doors and windows by the time you look again.

Some even take their welcome mats back inside.

🌌 Planetary rings can be bought for an unbelievable price but only the best magic users have them. They make amazing engagement and/or wedding rings.

🐠 If you find the right crosswalk in the rain, you will loo down between the painted line over a mirror image of the city, see fish swimming, leaves floating, etc. Stepping on the blocks gets you across but stepping in the water spins you around and you end up in the city. If you look up you'll see the blocks in the sky and fish swimming high above like clouds. You can watch people walking across the street above you.

This is the only way to find certain magic market places and it can be hard to find the right crosswalk. People usually end jumping in lots of puddles trying to find the right one.

**You leave the same way

🌧️ Kitchen clouds that rain spices

🌊 The most expensive and rare lace is foam from the sea pulled off at high tide under a full moon. White with the gentlest hints of blue, perfectly imperfect in it's details. They say it smells of salt and feels cool against the skin.

**Sold by mermaids, sirens, ocean nymphs. If you buy if from someone else it's probably fake

💡Sting lights that fly off the string when not in use and flicker on and off around the room. When you ask for light or turn it on, they all come floating in to sit on the string at their spots.

**Like lightning bugs but just little puffs of light

🌱 Rooms where grass grows on the floor or up between floorboards. Wildflowers and clover joining it. Sometimes sunflowers pop up to keep depressed or sick people company, common in hospitals

🛁 Night bath bombs: Black ones that turn the water black and silver dust forms accurate constellations in the water.

Cloud bath bombs: White ones that cover the top of the water in rolling puffs that look like cotton but dissipate like fog when you wave your hand through it.

Ocean bath bombs: Blue ones that foam and make small waves, sea salt scent and the grit of sand at the bottom of the tub.

Rain bath bombs: Grey ones that smell like rain and look like puddles, the occasional leaf or two floating by, and the perfect warm summer rain feel and smell.

🎨 Colorful butterflies like paint chips travel together and always form beautiful murals when they land. They usually stay for awhile before getting up to move their artwork to somewhere else.

🐙 Upside down flowers that move like octopus, the petals like little legs they scurry around on. They sometimes produce pollen puffs when startled or angry.

🦷 Dentists that do teeth whitening for vampires

👗 Dresses with flower edges, the skirt made of stems all going up to form the waist with leaves occasionally helping to cover and the flowers all at the bottom. Living dresses.

Along the same thought, flowers that weave in your hair and stay, Ivy, lavender, gardenia, etc.

🥪 Swamp houses on giant lilly pads with monsters that lives in the muddy waters, ancient beings that adore grilled cheese and will accept it as an offering of friendship.

🐾 Veterinarians that can speak multiple animal languages and can ask animals what's wrong as well as follow up on any neglect or abuse claims

⚓ Tattoos that move and change as the person does. Flowers that go through blooming and wilting. Words that change fonts. Animals that wonder around the body. Anchors that sink down to the feet. Watercolor that leaves the skin damp

🛒 Groceries that pop into your kitchen as you order them.

**They keep putting the milk in the wrong place and at this point you think it's just to fuck with you.

🪞 Store changing rooms have two types of rooms available, with mirrors that flatter and support, or mirrors that are brutally honest and occasionally hurtful.

💉 Werewolves that need to stay up to date on their rabies/disease shots instead of their flu shots.

💰 The best thieves and scammers are fae because they're amazing at getting information, names, numbers, etc. Also kitsune because of their remarkable cuunning and playfulness.

💧 Depression medicine that shoos away the rain clouds over your head

Calming tinctures that literally stop your head from spilling

Warming spells that start at you toes and roll up your body like sinking into warm water

Cooling spells that run down from the top of your head like a cool shower

💀 Classroom skeletons that teach their own classes and love dad jokes. Real ones that tell stories from their lives, or died very recently but it was in the middle of the semester and they still have shit to do. Fake skeletons that like to pretend they were famous/fictional people and spread completely ridiculous and often hilarious rumors.

🏘️ Ghost towns/neighborhoods like spirited away. Quiet and empty during the day but bustling streets and shops as the sun goes down. They aren't on maps for a reason - tip your hat or nod your head and remember your manners while quickly passing through

🌫️ Spells that hide your home from those with ill intentions. Sometimes they can't see your house or it looks abandoned. Sometimes it switches the roads around so none ever lead to you. Those with good intentions will always find their way to you, even if they get lost.

**Think irish proverb about the road rising up to meet you vibes

🗑️ The creature that lives in the break room trashcan always has the latest gossip and will gladly trade you some in return for some old coffee or a snack from the vending machine.

🐌 Sea slugs as street cleaners, make their way through the streets at night in slow wiggles like how they clean the bottom of the ocean.

**Often cause traffic delays if they get behind and can stay out til morning, so listen to the local morning radio to make sure to avoid any road closures due to slug

👁️ Seers make the best personal assistants, front desk, nurses, etc. Catch things right as they fall, will call and reschedule appointments before people know they need to, can make sure messages get where they need to go exactly when needed.

**Fake seers will sometimes try to pose as weathermen or similar to get some fame and money. They usually get booted quickly.

🌿 Eucalyptus that grows in the shower and greets you in the morning with happy waves and wishes you good night in the evening. Moss that grows on the floor like a rug and sprouts like flowers when it thinks you need some cheering up.

⌛ Time delays are a thing, however they must be approved by the time equality agency. You can request to change the hours in your day. For example, a student might request to have more time to study before their 7am final. If approved, they might have say 5am last 4 hours before time resumes as normal. However they'll have 4 hours removed at the end of their day.

**Kind of like daylight savings where the clock jumps forward and backwards

Usually this is reserved for very special situations as there's a lot of paperwork and requirements involved.

🚀 Spaceships gets stars stuck on the side, like boats get barnacles stuck to them, and they have to be scrapped off and throw back up into the sky

**Stars also go too low sometimes and get stuck in tree branches and gutters

🍄 Giant mushrooms used at part of the structure and/roof in forest homes. Living homes.

🌳 Willow trees are incredibly protective. If someone gets a willow whip mark (snapped a branch at them like a towel) it usually means they were somewhere they shouldn't have been.

🦋 Some butterflies have extra pollen on their wings that gets shaken off. This can be gathered and used in magic makeup - doesn't harm the butterfly as they shake it off themselves when it gets too heavy.

🐉 Fire flowers that burn blue at the base and end in flickering flames. Little embers in the middle like pollen. Very small dragons take the embers and soot like bees.

Please note that it's illegal to take anything from a dragon, including fire honey, but sometimes if you befriend them they'll trade you. Maybe a shell of honey for something shiney. They're fond of things like tinsel and shiney confetti, it's easy to carry and they sometimes wrap it around them like little scarves.

🗺️ Physical maps that direct you like Google maps but also refuse to ask for directions if they themselves get lost. Sometimes they fold on the sides like little arms on their hips when they're mad.

**Map: don't you dare pull over, take the turn in .5 miles.

Driver: There is no turn!

Map: Take the turn!

[kumeko]

A/N: For the @kairizine! Since it was flower-language themed, I went with: Sweetbrier (simplicity, wound to heal), Star of Bethlem (atonement, reconciliation), Spindle Tree  (your image is engraved on my heart). The amazing @mellekist drew spot art for this fic, please check them out!

…

…

…

…

i.

The air was clear. Kairi gazed across the calm waters separating the mainland from Destiny Islands. When she had been younger, the distance had felt enormous, as wide as an ocean. Now she knew it as a small channel, a short canoe paddle away. The islands were close enough that she could spot the spindle trees that dotted the hills, the docks and the pirate ship that hadn’t crumbled over time. A breath, and she smelled the acrid flowers, the musty wooden planks, the salty sea breeze. Straining her ears, she barely heard children’s laughter as small figures raced one another across the white sands, repeating scenes from her own childhood.

If she squinted, she could see herself running too, her short hair tickling her neck as she tried to keep up with two reckless boys. Kairi, they called, turning around—

“Really?” Selphie broke her thoughts as she followed Kairi’s stare and rolled her eyes. She snorted delicately before taking a lick of her blue popsicle, her lips and tongue already taking on an icy hue from the frozen treat. In the hot summer sun, she had rolled up her sleeves before she could make a mess of them. “Do you have to stare every time we pass?”

“I can’t help it,” Kairi replied, reluctantly tearing her eyes away from the islands. The image was gone, the two boys fading with every passing second. There had been a time when Selphie was eager to visit the islands all summer long, but that was years ago. Now, they were no longer children. Now, they were on the cusp of adulthood, between fish and fowl, and Selphie was more than eager to let go of that part of her past.

“Don’t get me wrong, I get it.” Selphie waved her free hand before raising her popsicle for another lick, stopping the melting treat from turning her fingers into a sticky mess. She glanced at Kairi from the corner of her eyes. “The islands are fun and so much better than boring homework.”

That wasn’t the reason Kairi still visited them, but she hummed along nonetheless.

“Still,” Selphie continued, scrunching her nose slightly. “Aren’t they kinda…I dunno, childish? I mean, only kids play there.”

“I guess…” Kairi shifted uncomfortably and tugged her collar, letting in the cool breeze. Their summer uniforms did little to relieve them from the heat, and she wanted to be in a canoe, to sit in the water and let the cooler air surround her. Or better yet, on a raft, the wind playing with her hair, her hand tracing the sea. “It’s not like I want to play, though.”

Selphie raised her brow, forgetting her popsicle entirely. “Then what do you do there?”

“Just…” Kairi mulled over it, trying to find the right word. “Cleaning.”

Her friend snorted, doubling over with laughter. “Cleaning? You? Have you seen your room?” She wiped the tears from her eyes, still chuckling. “You even trick our classmates into cleaning the classroom for you. You’re so lazy.”

Lazybones.

You’re both lazy.

A memory, unbidden, rattled off. The two boys turned to look at her, the sun blinding her eyes. Kairi froze, trying and failing to grasp their faces, their names. Riku and S—but it didn’t stick, blue eyes turning into the water the second she blinked.

She forced a laugh. “I know. It’s weird.”

How could she explain it to Selphie when she couldn’t even explain it to herself? There was a memory of starlight, of tears, of someone asking her to wait. A promise etched in chalk. Darkness swallowing Riku. A smile as bright as the sun. There was a gap in her memories, in everyone’s memories. An empty space that left behind too many remembrances to just be a dream.

“I just have to,” Kairi continued, with a certainty she felt down to her core. She had promised to stay, so she would. The caves would be cleaned, the old spots would be left untouched, and she would wait.

Kairi was a protector, if only for these childhood places, these lost memories.

ii.

It was strange walking on Destiny Islands. Keyblade in hand, Kairi walked her old haunts—the beaches, the cave, the ship. Jamais vu, Selphie had called it, a sense of unfamiliarity in the familiar. Kairi knew all of these places like the back of her hand, yet they felt different, almost scary, now. Her memories had returned, and with it the monsters that lurked in the dark.

As Kairi passed through the cave, she brushed her hand against the wall. This was where it had all started: the Heartless, the Keyblade, the door to other worlds. Where Riku had fallen and Sora had risen and the door between worlds had opened. There were no signs of that anymore, just faded drawings on a cave wall, just litter from children sneaking out treats from beneath their parents’ noses. Even her paopu drawing was smudged, newer drawings taking over it bit by bit.

Try as she might, her Keyblade could not open another door, could not bridge a path from her world to the next. The cave remained a cave. The islands remained isolated. And Kairi remained behind, as she always had.

She sighed as she spun on her heel, meandering a well-trodden path down to the beach, her eyes glued to the clear, blue skies. A war was being fought out there, Sora and Riku keeping the darkness at bay. Not that anyone could tell from here. There wasn’t even a cloud in the sky. Across the still waters, her hometown looked as peaceful as ever.

No, not her hometown—she did not come from there.

It was still home nonetheless.

It was still hers nonetheless.

Kairi gripped her Keyblade tightly. Sweetbrier grew at the dune edges, the wild roses bordering the sand as though to keep it out. Beauty and thorns; she admired their strength and wished it were her own. A gentle breeze blew, her long hair falling over her eyes. She pushed it back, looping the strands behind her ear, remembering that once those hairs had tickled her neck instead of reaching her lower back.

It was funny to be here again, to be waiting. It was like nothing had changed since that starry night years ago, when she had reached out desperately to Sora as they parted worlds. Or when she had gathered driftwood during high school, her body falling into old patterns that her mind had forgotten.

Kairi stopped by the low-arching tree, running her fingers across the trunk. The three of them had sat here, once upon a time, imagining distant shores.

“We found out what’s out there,” she said aloud. “Didn’t even need a raft to get off this island.” Her nails dug into the bark. “You didn’t come back with me.”

Her words were met with silence. Riku and Sora were still on those faraway planets and she was still waiting at home.

The Keyblade in her hand warmed, reminding her that not everything was the same. Sora was no longer forgotten, Riku was found, and she had her own weapon in this ongoing war.

Wordlessly, she raised her blade as though to challenge. Let the monsters come—they would find this place would not easily succumb. Let the monsters know that there was a light in this patch of the universe, that the darkness would broker no hold here.

Let Sora and Riku fight across the universe, let them alter the course of worlds and fate. That was not her war. Kairi would protect their home, their haven, their memories.

And when her boys returned, bloody and broken and weary, she would protect them.

iii.

There came an end to every story, to every battle and war. A happily-ever-after, if you were lucky, and a final chapter if not. Of course, it was the case here, in this story of light and darkness, of princesses and fate.

The light had won. The shadows were gone. The war was over. Worlds were back in place, and so were the people displaced by years of loss and bloodshed. A key turned somewhere, a satisfying click that signaled that everything was done.

And at the end of it all, Kairi stood on the beach once more, her bare feet digging into the warm sand. Above her: a bright sun, stray white clouds drifting lazily with the breeze. Waves lapped the shore, the water choppy as though it too wanted to celebrate this moment. Tiny stars of Bethlehem grew stubbornly against the rocks and craggy grasses, their white flowers straining toward the sun.

Once again, Kairi was back on Destiny Islands, surrounded by her familiar haunts.

Once again, she was staring out into the distance, looking at her home.

Once again, she had her two boys by her side. Riku’s large palm utterly engulfed her own, and Sora’s skin was sweaty as he gripped her other hand tightly. The Keyblades were gone, the worlds at peace, and Kairi closed her eyes as she let herself just feel. The last time they had done this, they had been younger and shorter and oh so innocent. Her hair had reached her chin, Sora had been her height, and Riku had been cocky enough to take on the gods. Their eyes had ever been on distant seas, on horizons unknown.

Now she could feel the strength in their hands, calloused and rough from fighting. Kairi peeked at them—not that she had to. They were too distracted to notice her stare.

“It’s just like how I remembered,” Sora said quietly, too quietly. It was strange to have him so calm, his smile muted. He sounded almost shell-shocked. Part of her expected him to tug her, to race across the sands to the docks, but he didn’t move a muscle.

For once, Riku did not mock him. He merely grunted, his hand squeezing Kairi’s in agreement. He didn’t move either, except to turn his head this way and that, processing everything.

“The ship’s still there,” Sora added, swallowing hard as he watched three kids climb the mast.

“Where would it go?” Riku said bluntly, but there was no bite in his words. His gaze was locked on the docks, as though he had forgotten what they looked like.

“And the tree!” Sora continued, still whispering, still awestruck.

It was like watching blind men given sight, parched travellers drinking from an oasis. Their hands didn’t leave hers no matter where they turned.

I saved it all, Kairi didn’t say. I kept your memories, she didn’t remind. There was a time and place for everything, and unlike in her younger days, Kairi had learned to control her need to boast.

This wasn’t the time for glory.

No, this was the time for healing, for remembrances, for simply being. They were together again, and there would be plenty of days ahead for her to fill them in on exactly what she had been doing over the years.

“There’s more,” Kairi said, breaking the silence with a bright smile. She glanced at Sora, at Riku, and squeezed their hands. When they squeezed back, she took a step forward, gently leading them down familiar paths. “The caves, your rooms, our canoes—they’re all still here.”

It was like she’d pulled a trigger. Sora picked up the pace, pulling her forward eagerly. “Race you to the docks.”

“Is it a race if you always lose?” Riku taunted, keeping up with him.

Kairi burst into laughter as they all but dragged her into their competition, their hands still clinging to hers like a lifeline.

Her boys were home.

Her wait was over and they were home.

[lolo3hwriting]

Apple Hills in Kitakami - How Realistic Is It?

I was playing pokemon violet and doing some shiny hunting in Kitakami, specifically in the Apple Hills, and while I was there it made me think. How realistic is the apple orchard compared to real life? I study horticulture and have taken a few classes on fruit and orchard production, so it sparked my curiosity.

(Just as a disclaimer, most of my knowledge of apple production comes from the United States rather than Japan, where Kitakami is based on. From what I read, most of the production is the same with a few minor differences. For example, most apple orchards in Japan are much smaller at a few acres while American apple orchards can be hundreds of acres. Also, I won’t claim to be an expert in apple production and if someone wants to correct me or add on feel free to. Most of this comes from my notes from different horticultural classes I have taken as well as university extension publications.)

Soils and Climate

Apples are temperate fruit crops but can grow within a wide range of latitudes depending on the variety grown, even subtropical areas if you manage it correctly. Kitikami is based on the Tohoku region of Japan, which is considered temperate. There is apple production in this area as well as Hokkaido and Nagano Prefecture. 

In general, well drained and sloped land is preferable for temperate fruit crops like apples. Having the plant directly on top of a hill has better drainage and sunlight exposure, but is also exposed to more wind and weather that can damage the plant. Lowlands have issues with drainage and airflow, as cool air sinks and if it stays for a significant period of time it will cause freeze damage. The Apple Hills are located on a hill, true to their namesake, so this part is accurate.

Although irrigation isn’t a major factor in apple production as apples are fairly drought tolerant, it can be more convenient to locate an orchard near a water body. This is because larger water bodies help mitigate large temperature fluctuations and avoid spring freezes. I mention this because the Apple Hills are fairly close to a river, so it may or may not influence the production. 

(From Bulbagarden)

Apple Tree Size and Structure

Different to popular belief, most apple trees in orchards are dwarfed. If left alone trees can get to 25 feet, but in some orchards they can be as small as 10 or even 8 feet tall. This dwarfing is done through a variety of techniques including using specific rootstocks, grafting, and training of the tree’s architecture. The trees within the Apple Hills are quite small, only reaching to about double the player’s height. Which isn’t that tall considering the player is still supposed to be a child, and that the average protagonist height is around 5 feet.

(Images from here and here)

The shape of apple trees can vary from orchard to orchard, but the two most common types are pyramidal with different tiers of branches or columnar. The pyramidal shape is usually done by training a central leader (or branch) to become the main branch and have the other horizontal branches become different tiers. This process makes for good light distribution into the canopy as well as restricting the growth somewhat. The columnar structure also helps with light distribution, but not as much as the pyramidal structure. However, the columnar structure helps with packing in more trees into an area and creates high density planting, which may increase total fruit yield. There is also a very thin structure called a spindle, which only has a canopy 1-2 feet in diameter and more cylindrical. They allow for easier harvesting and potentially more yield, but require support structures and more management The trees within the game have no one structure, some are wide and branched while others are more narrow. Although this isn’t accurate to real life, this is probably done for aesthetic purposes as to not make the orchard repetitive and boring for the player. The supports on the ground however are accurate as many trees are so small they need additional structures to help grow, otherwise the branches may snap off or the whole tree might fall over. 

(Image from here)

Pokemon and Pests? 

Some of the most prominent pests are codling moth, apple maggot, apple scab (fungal), and fire blight (bacterial). However, animals like birds and mammals can also be a problem. There are many different pokemon that spawn within the Apple Hills that may be considered pests, but I want to point out applin in particular. It’s based on ‘worms’ in apples (which in reality are the larvae or maggots of insects) and may be considered the biggest pest in the pokemon world. They eat and can disguise themselves as apples, potentially decreasing fruit quality and the total yield. But considering many trainers in Kitakami use applins in battle, it may also be a cultural icon that people love and will tolerate eating their apples. It may be true that a lot of the pokemon in the orchard will become pests, but considering the people of Kitakami live in harmony with pokemon and may find them cute, they could allow for some of the fruit to be eaten by pokemon while keeping the rest for themselves.

Taste of the Fruit

In a conversation in the League Club in the Blueberry Academy Amarys says in reference to the apples from Kitakami, “The high sugar content gives them a superb flavor”. In English the apples exclusive to Kitakami are called syrupy apples, while in Japan they are called honeycore apples. This is most likely in reference to honeycrisp apples, which are the most popular apple variety due to its crispy texture, sweetness, and juiciness. However, honeycrisp apples were bred for their taste rather than their ease of production. As such they are notorious for being hard to produce and require very specific conditions and maintenance in order for the tree to be productive enough to turn a profit. I don’t think this difficulty is the case within Kitakami since they grow so much and don’t have that much advanced equipment, but I would expect the taste to be similar to honeycrisp.

Sources:

[sincerely-sofie]

Ruby anon here! I’m pretty interested in all this aura lore stuff! What kinds of aura do Twig, Kip, the future trio, Spindle, Opal, Ruby, Lucky, Sen, Manaphy and Bud have?

(Also what about Yeet’s and Delete’s, because I’m assuming Ark would be able to pick up on their aura and that would be a tell when they’re around).

(Referencing this post)

I’m glad you’ve enjoyed the aura lore! The way I’ve written auras is very personal to me, as its based on part of my experience with mental illness and psychosis— so to hear it’s interesting is very meaningful :> As for everyone’s auras:

Twig: The feel of sun on your skin, the taste of fresh greens, the smell of summer air, the sound of a crackling fire keeping the house warm, and the shock of cool water when diving into the deep end of a pool.

Ruby: The numbness and exhaustion that comes after a long cry session, sympathy for a pitiful looking inanimate object, a hug that holds you together when you’re falling apart, and the texture and taste of a sugar cube.

Spindle: The sting of antiseptic, the feel of velvet lining the inside of an antique music box, the taste of a slightly-melted candy bar, the weight of your favorite stuffed toy in your arms, and the feeling of being too cold but unwilling to get up and grab a blanket.

Opal: The smell of air at dawn, the slight burning in your limbs when you stretch them out as far as you can, the feel of mist on your skin, and the taste of a cold glass of water after a hard day’s work.

Kip: The taste of whipped cream, the weathered texture of your favorite childhood blanket, the warmth of a mug filled with a hot drink, the crunch of old parchment, and the prick of a thorn against your ankle.

Lucky: The ache in your eyes after staying up too late reading, the taste of hot chocolate, the weight of a hand in yours, curling up with a warm blanket, and the sound of a sigh uttered in your sleep.

Sen: The echo of your own voice singing alone in an empty cavern, the taste of cinnamon, the feel of an ice pack against sore muscles, the smell of coins held in your hand while rushing to try and pay for a toy as a child, the emptiness of a porcelain doll, and the hollow ache in your bones that comes with deep longing.

Manaphy: The smell of fresh air at the seaside, the cradle-like rocking of a boat on the waves, the warmth of sun-soaked sand beneath your feet, the sensation of wind whipping around you as you lean into the gale, and the feel of holding an ice cube in your palm.

Grovyle: The unexpected tartness of one berry eaten after a sweet one, the softness of lambs-ear plant leaves, the steadiness of an oak tree’s branches amidst a howling storm, an aching exhaustion that has gone ignored for too long, and a fiercely protective presence.

Dusknoir: The background sound of a vinyl record playing in the next room over, the smell of an apple pie baking, the glint of gemstones in a display case, the sound of a sleepy voice reading a bedtime story, and the feel of a hand placed over a forehead to check for fever.

Celebi: The feel of crabgrass, the smell of crushed basil leaves, raw-cut gemstones, the sight of rolling meadows filled with tall grass waving in the wind, and the sensation of laying down for a nap after a long day.

Bud: The sight of a pruned branch weeping sap, the smell of cut grass, the feel of a kiss over a bandaid placed with care, and the burning in your legs when running as fast as you can in a field full of other kids.

Yeet & Delete: (They’d have very similar auras, to the point one is easily mistaken for the other! Sharing similar emotions and experiences oftentimes does that to individuals’ auras) The surprise of biting into unripe fruit when expecting something sweet, the scrape of talons on bare skin, a glare when a sympathetic glance is what you expected, a keen awareness and fear of the fact that you can’t see directly behind you, and limbs that are shaking with fear and anger in equal parts.

[super-ion]

Apple & Spindle

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Briar was awoken by the sound of crunching leaves and a twig snapping. He scrambled to his feet and drew the sword he had been clutching to his chest and he found himself leveling his blade at Rose's stepmother, the witch.

She blinked in surprise, caught off guard for a moment. Then she rolled her eyes and waved her hand dismissively. Briar felt the hilt of his sword squirming in his hand as it became a writhing snake.

With a cry of alarm, he dropped the blade and it clattered to the ground, restored to its true form as it left his hand.

"Do you really think I would try to speak with you if I meant you harm?" she demanded.

"I… uh…"

It was a trick, it had to be.

He drew a dagger from his belt and brandished it at her. In response, she rolled her eyes and threw up her hands with an exasperated sigh.

"Spirits grant me patience," she muttered.

Then, to his surprise she knelt on the ground before him, staining her dress in the mud as her mouth twisted in displeasure.

"I swear on my life and the magic in my veins," she intoned, "that I shall protect the Prince Briar from harm and that I shall serve him to the best of my ability for the rest of my days."

The words carried the weight of distant thunder and the acrid scent of magic filled the air. The oath was clearly backed by magic, but it was the choice of words that made him blink at her in surprise.

Briar. Prince. Him.

No adult of any station had ever referred to him as such.

"There!" she snapped, souring the mood somewhat. "Satisfied?"

He reluctantly sheathed his dagger and she rose to her feet. With a wave of her hand, the mud at her knees dried and flaked away without a trace.

"What… uh… what exactly is your business out here?" he asked as she inspected her skirts for any remaining grime.

She leveled a stern glare in his direction.

"Among other things, to seek you out," she replied. "My stepdaughter came to me with some interesting revelations last night. I was delayed somewhat by extenuating circumstances, but when I awoke, the first thing I discovered was that the prince was nowhere to be found in the palace. Tell me, do you have a plan or were you simply going to rush blind into the lair of the arch-fae that tried to curse you as a baby?"

His stomach twisted with abashment. His plan had consisted of finding Rose. It was... somewhat light on detail otherwise.

"I'm not going back," he deflected. "Not without Rose. You can't make me."

"Can't I?" she replied with a raised eyebrow. "Remember that my oath is to protect you first and serve you second."

He opened his mouth to protest, but she forestalled him with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"It is not my intent to escort you back to the palace. Not alone, at least. I am bound by a stronger oath than the one I have just sworn to you. Our interests align and your royal blood is a potentially valuable asset in this endeavor."

He swallowed, unsure if her words were meant to reassure him.

"And what of my parents?" he asked. "They must know I'm gone by now. Won't they send someone?"

She shook her head.

"I had to resort to enchanting them to prevent them from sending any riders after you. As far as they are aware, you and I are on a retreat so that I may begin your royal education in dealing with magic… which is not strictly untrue.

"And for your awareness," she continued, "it is in fact an arch-fae we shall be facing. He is both ancient and wicked. We, the three of us, will face great peril. I cannot in good conscience endanger any others."

Briar nodded. He, himself had come to the same conclusion the day before.

He still wasn't entirely convinced he could trust the witch, but it did seem that they had the same goal.

*

Rose entered her stepmother's dream and was surprised to find herself in the forest. The night air cool against her skin in a way that was too real to be just a dream. A campfire crackled lowly, casting warmth and flickering shadows across the campsite. Hilde was seated on a log, watching her with a slightly bemused expression, but her eyes were for Briar alone. He laid on a bedroll, snoring softly. It was him, in the flesh somehow. She almost believed she could reach out and touch him if she wasn't aware of the sensations in her physical body, miles away.

"What…?" she gasped. "Is this real?"

"In a manner of speaking," Hilde told her.

"But can you be awake and dreaming at the same time?"

Hilde's lips quirked in a tiny smile.

"Advanced topics in oneiromancy," she replied cryptically. "Although, you might be able to master it faster than most, given your experience with dream magic."

Hilde sighed and leaned back.

"I need to speak with you," she said, averting her gaze. "About the curse."

That was enough to tear Rose's gaze away from Briar's sleeping form. Rose joined her where she sat staring at the campfire.

"When the king and queen first hired me, I had a theory," she explained. "I knew they would never go along with it, so I dismissed it immediately. To say it is dangerous world be an understatement."

Rose eyed her warily.

"What exactly did you have in mind?"

"Well, it's simple, really - we kill you"

"What??" Rose shouted, jumping to her feet.

"You'll never wake up as long as you're asleep, so we need another state of being to get around the curse."

"Okay, but how am I supposed to wake up if I'm dead?"

"There are poisons that will stop your heart and can be counteracted if we act quickly enough. Of course, it's incredibly risky. If we get the poison wrong, you could die. If we get the antidote wrong, you could die. If-"

"Okay, I get it," Rose muttered as she sat down once more.

Hilde wrung her hands. It was such a strange gesture coming from her. Rose's stepmother had been a monolith of haughty self-assuredness for as long as she had known her. To see this uncertainty, this vulnerability, was unnerving.

"Rosamund," she said softly, "just know that we won't take any action either way without your explicit consent. I will abide by whichever path you choose to follow."

Rose considered this for a long moment.

"Do you believe it will work?"

Hilde pursed her lips.

"It is our best and probably only chance to break the curse," Hilde said. It wasn't an answer.

Rose nodded, understanding. She had spent the better part of four years contemplating how to break the curse. Hilde had spent nearly two decades working the same task with no success, and she was a fully trained witch.

"You made a promise," she said quietly, "to keep me safe?"

Hilde flinched but forced herself to look at Rose, making eye contact for the first time since she had broached the subject of poison.

Rose tentatively reached across and took Hilde's hand in hers. It was strange, the most intimate contact they had ever shared, even considering Rose's current incorporeal state.

"I have faith in you," Rose admitted. "I have faith in the promise you made to my mother."

Hilde made a sad smile and brushed a lock off Rose's hair from her face.

"You really are your mother's daughter," she replied, causing Rose's heart to flutter.

For all her flaws and the strained relationship between them, her stepmother had always seemed to accept that Rose was a girl as a matter of fact.

"Can… can I ask you something?" Rose said. "When did you know? That I was a girl, I mean?"

Her stepmother made another of her sly, knowing smiles.

"When you fell through the wards into the Prince's chambers."

"You knew about that?" Rose blurted, aghast.

"Who do you think set those wards in the first place?"

*

Briar dreamt of Rose. He often did of late.

The two of them lay tangled up on grassy hills under the trees that stood at the edge of the forest. Dappled sunlight played across Rose's pale skin. She was so beautiful…

He pressed a kiss against her lips and was startled when she grunted in surprise.

She broke the kiss and scrambled back.

"Gods above, Briar. Do you ever dream of anything else?"

He forced a grin onto his face, fighting the spike of embarrassment.

"Are you complaining?"

She furrowed her brow and unconsciously touched her lips with a slightly trembling hand.

"Briar, we need to talk," she said as she shook herself out of her reverie. "My stepmother has a plan to break the curse."

Something about her tone set him on edge. She knew he wasn't going to like whatever she said next. Gods, it made him want to pull her close to him again and hold her tight until their troubles disappeared.

"I thought the curse was unbreakable," he said cautiously.

"A sleep-like death from which she shall never awaken," Rose quoted. "She… she thinks there might be a loophole we can exploit… but it means I have to die."

"What??" he shouted as he sprang to his feet. The dream shifted and an icy wind blew across the hills.

She stood her ground as the freezing wind whipped through her fair. Her eyes were soft and slightly pleading, but her jaw was set. She had already made up her mind, and there was no convincing her otherwise.

His shoulders sagged and he sighed.

"Alright, let's hear it."

She told him of the plan, of a poisoned apple, of dying so that she could wake up. Her words grew more rushed, more desperate as she spoke and he realized he was frowning intensely. When she finished he was silent for a long moment before letting out a ragged sigh.

"Rose, are you sure about this?"

She nodded resolutely.

"You trust her?" he asked. "Just like that? What about the huntsman she sent to kill you?"

Rose frowned pensively.

"She doesn't have an explanation for that yet," she admitted. "She sensed that I was in grave danger, so she sent someone after me. She swears she never told him to kill me though."

"But how-"

"I trust her," she interrupted. "I didn't know what to look for until now, but she is bound by incredibly powerful magic. Remember what I told you last night? About how human magic is based on intent? She may have been cold and aloof with me, but she truly, deeply loved my mother and she put the full weight of that love behind her promise to take care of me."

She smiled wistfully.

"You know all those times I found the exact spell book that I needed from the library? Most of that was her, guiding me down a path that wouldn't get me accidentally blown up."

She stepped closer to him and took his hands in hers.

"Look, things aren't just magically fixed between us," she murmured. "We still have a lot of issues to work through, but we're trying. We want to try. I trust her. I just need you to trust me."

"I do," he said. That at least had never been in doubt.

He let out a breath.

"Alright," he said. "Let's do it. I can tell you've already made up your mind. Far be it from me to get in your way."

Her shoulders relaxed minutely and her eyes brightened. Then, with startling suddenness, she cupped his face in her hands and kissed him.

When she pulled away, she pressed her forehead against his with a soft smile.

"I can't wait to do that for real," she told him.

*

Another day passed. Rose spent the time drifting in the dark space between dreams, fearful that if she returned to her body, she would drift into the death sleep in truth. Finally a familiar light flickered and she rushed into her stepmother's dreams. She found herself back in the study where she had confronted Hilde.

Hilde turned to greet her, stiff and hesitant.

"Everything is ready?" Rose asked with some trepidation. "The poison and the apple?"

"Yes," the witch replied, "but there is still the matter of the fae. I can't theorize on his motives, but it is unlikely he will simply relinquish his prize, even if you are not the child he intended to curse. No… I very much doubt he will let you go without a fight. Our best chance of success is to engage him separately, both in the physical world and in the dream."

Hilde hesitated.

"The prince himself will be in considerable danger," she continued. "My skills will be required to protect him. I hate to ask this of you, but you must face the fae alone here in the dream."

Despite herself Rose felt her stomach twist in terror. She recalled the presence that had tried to intrude the first time she had come to Hilde's dream.

"You love him?" Hilde asked. "The prince, I mean."

Rose blinked in surprise.

"I...Yes."

"Use that. The battleground will be your own mind. The fae will use your own fears and desires against you. If you remain grounded and maintain control, you will have the upper hand. Stay focused, stay centered and you should survive."

It wasn't exactly the most inspirational speech Rose had ever heard. Judging by the twist of Hilde's mouth, she realized the same.

After another moment of hesitation, her stepmother placed an awkward hand on Rose's shoulder.

"Make your mother proud."

*

Briar stared up at the tower. By the looks of it, it was ancient, the architecture centuries out of date, the once elegant stonework worn to smoothness. Surely such a structure so close to the city would have been known, even deep in the woods as they were.

Strangest of all was that it was completely overgrown, with roses the color of blood and wicked thorns as big as his thumb.

Briars and roses… there was no way that could be a coincidence, he thought to himself.

"I thought she was in a cottage," Briar said finally.

"She is… or was," the witch replied, her forehead slightly creased. "This is a glamour… of a sort. The fae we are dealing with is indeed powerful."

Briar touched the pommel of his sword, glad that he had at least had the foresight to grab the cold iron blade before coming after Rose.

"So… do we knock?" he asked.

She grimaced and raised an incredulous eyebrow at him.

Before she could respond, there was a crack from the forest and a rustling. Something staggered out of the trees, something vaguely human, a skeleton with vines instead of flesh. It leveled a rusty blade at the two of them and let out a screech that pierced Briar's skull and made Hilde stagger.

Without thinking, Briar had his sword out and blocked its blow before it could strike Hilde.

It wasn't alone.

More shapes were emerging from the trees around them. They were completely surrounded… except for the tower at their backs.

He swung his blade, hewing the creature in half and readied himself for the next one.

A fireball sailed past him, striking one in the chest. It screeched as it burst into flames.

"Go!" Hilde shouted.

He glanced at her. She was cupping another flame in her hand and had produced a delicate blade that shimmered in the sunlight. She made eye contact.

"Go!" she repeated. "Find Rose. I'll hold them off."

He nodded and reluctantly ran to the tower. Despite its apparent age, the door swung open silently and he hurried through the threshold.

The sight before him brought him screeching to a halt. He was is a great hall, far larger than could conceivably be contained by the tower. Two rows of candelabras cast light that was swallowed by the cavernous space. They led to a dais, surrounded by candles that contained a figure in repose.

"Rose!" he shouted, his voice echoing oddly.

He ran forward but stopped short as another figure stepped into his path to block his way.

It was unmistakably a fae, with uncanny grace and pearlescent skin, but there was something distressingly familiar about it.

"What…?" was all Briar could manage.

Beneath the finery, Briar recognized him. It was one of the royal huntsmen, a man who had been in his parents employ for as long as he could remember, just a bland unremarkable man who simply blended into the background but was somehow ever present.

He was anything but bland and unremarkable now and he gazed upon Briar with deepest contempt.

[nidi23]

Learn out more about the various types of spindle motors.

Changzhou Troy Machinery & Electric Co., Ltd. was established in 1998 and has since become a market leader in high-speed spindle motor design, production, and distribution.

We continually invest in new, cutting-edge production and testing equipment to make sure that our products are of the greatest calibre. Because of our cutting-edge technology and reliable quality, we have gained the trust of customers both domestically and internationally. Our “WHD” brand name is gaining popularity.

CNC routers, engraving machines, drilling machines, edge banding machines, and other related devices frequently use products from our STZ, STF, STM, STL, and STX family. In addition, we may create unique spindle motors based on the demands of our clients.

Air-cooled spindle motor

The spindle motors used in hard disc drives (HDDs) turn the HDD discs. These parts are crucial to the performance of HDDs since the accuracy of these motors impacts HDD capacity and speed. These motors therefore need to perform very well in terms of rotational speed and Non-Repeatable Run Out (NRRO).

Air-cooled spindle motors include, among others:

1. Square spindle motor: For all of your routing and engraving needs, WHD offers a selection of High-Speed Air Cooled Spindle Motors, including Round CNC Spindle Motors, Square CNC Spindle Motors, and CNC Spindle Motors with Flanges. For more than 20 years, WHD spindle motors have been shipped to the US, Europe, Brazil, India, Russia, and other nations.

2. Spindler motor with an electric fan: WHD provides a range of High-Speed Air Cooled Spindle Motors for CNC engraving and CNC wood routing applications, including CNC Spindle Motors with Flanges, Square CNC Spindle Motors, and Round CNC Spindle Motors.Brazil, India, Russia, the United States, and other nations across the world have all received WHD spindle motor exports.

3. Spindle motor with flange: For CNC engraving and CNC wood routing applications, WHD offers a variety of High-Speed Air Cooled Spindle Motors, including Round CNC Spindle Motors, Square CNC Spindle Motors, and CNC Spindle Motors with Flanges. Brazil, India, Russia, the United States, and other nations across the world have all received WHD spindle motor exports.

Water-cooled spindle motor

An electromechanical assembly known as an electric spindle consists of a motor, a spindle shaft with bearings, and a tool holder of some sort. It might also include cooling features.

Water-cooled spindle motors include, among others:

Wood/plastic spindle motor: WHD, one of China’s top spindle motor manufacturers, has over 20 years of experience manufacturing and selling Water Cooled Spindle motors for many CNC applications industries. In addition to other countries, our spindle motors have now been exported to the United States, Europe, Brazil, India, and Russia.

2. A stone spindle motor: Being one of China’s top manufacturers of spindle motors, WHD has more than 20 years of experience producing and providing water-cooled spindle motors for numerous CNC applications industries. In addition to other countries, our spindle motors have now been exported to the United States, Europe, Brazil, India, and Russia. The STZ140–11-ER32 model has a power output of 11.0kW, a diameter of 140 mm, a speed of 24 rpm, a voltage of 380V, a current output of 20.9A, a frequency output of 100–800Hz, and many other features.

3. Metal spindle motor: Being one of China’s top spindle motor manufacturers, WHD has more than 20 years of experience producing and selling Water Cooled Spindle motors for various CNC applications industries.

[mira1308]

Cooled or water spindle: Which is better?

A shaft is the essential piece of any CNC router machine, used for fast handling, exhausting, carving, and other profound positions. In any case, as the electric axle engine turns at quick to convey these results, it ought to be chilled off to avoid failures to discharge and stay aware of execution. Not doing this can incite utilitarian difficulties for the equipment and the endeavor from decreased help life to complete burnout of the part.

Air and water cooling are two of the most commonly elaborate strategies for chilling off the shaft. The shaft motor isolating can make a misfortune for the entire cycle. In this manner a durable and smooth technique for cooling should be used. Regardless, it is overpowering to acknowledge which is seriously convincing and useful. Permit us to examine on by going through this article and standing out the two head-from head.

1. Cooling influence: The ability to scatter heat is better in a water-cooled spindle than in the air-cooled one. The air-cooled shaft uses a fan that dissipates the force, while the water-cooled shaft uses water spread to chill off the motor. The last choice allows the temperature of the shaft to be held under 40 degrees, which is a more amazing result than what is traversed the air-cooled hub.

2. Disturbance: The water-cooled shaft is for all intents and purposes quiet, while the air-cooled spindle creates the fan’s racket, making it much noisier.

3. Rotational speed: An air-cooled shaft can clock a rotational speed of 18000 rpm. In reality, the speed of the water-cooled shaft is significantly higher, at 24000 rpm. Appropriately, the last choice can accomplish more work in lesser time.

4. Convenience: Air-cooled shafts don’t go with water tanks or equipment to siphon water and are, consequently, more invaluable and lighter to use than water-cooled axles.

5. Execution: Air-cooling shafts offer higher power, which makes the cutting power more grounded. This makes the air-cooled shaft more perfect than its water-cooled accomplice.

6. Sturdiness: The assistance life of a water-cooled shaft is longer than that of an air-cooled axle. Water-cooled shafts require effort on the manager’s part to take palatable thought to stay aware of them. Their solidarity can be improved by superseding water or using current water coolers and various means.

7. Precision: Considering everything, water-cooled shafts are better as the center and twisting runout is lesser than 0.003 mm. The air-cooled shaft, sadly, misss the mark in such way.

8. Working environment: The water-cooling shaft is more restrictive and has two huge drawbacks it requires a steady water supply, a siphon, and other such stuff to help it. This forms how much space it requires. Moreover, it can’t offer ideal execution in climatic cutoff points, especially when the temperature diminishes. Of course, the air-cooled axle is freed from such concerns, but where temperatures are concerned, it will be more restrictive in additional sizzling conditions than the water-cooled shaft.

9. Single use time: Water cooling is more sensible than air cooling for wiping out and infiltrating places that run for longer lengths. This is because water-cooling shafts work at brilliant rates while keeping a temperature of not more than 40 degrees after each watering cycle.

10. Esteem: Air-cooled shaft that offer presentation indistinguishable from water-cooled ones are more expensive. Since air-cooled shafts are less difficult to work and less enormous in size and weight, their cost can now and again raise. They offer an all the more consistent action when stood out from water-cooled shafts, as they are not unreasonably influenced by the change of temperatures. Water-cooled shafts can freeze and break in low temperatures, making them less extreme and decently more affordable. Additionally checkout CNC machine spindle.

[bunnyraut43]

Air-Cooled Spindle: A Straightforward Definition

Air-cooled spindle:

The air-cooled CNC Spindle Motor is dependably cooled by a free fan. It has two shapes: round and square. While the cycle ones are for the most part talking around fixed with focus holders, the square ones with screw openings can continually be doubtlessly fixed to the machines. With the qualities of high power and low-temperature increase, the air-cooled CNC center Motor. is regularly used in the CNC router machines of 3pcs Spindle machine and 4pcs turn machine. As a specialist CNC parts maker, WHD Motors can equip you with various air-cooled Motors with different power.

1. Round Spindle Motor

2. Square Spindle Motor

3. Spindle Motor with Rib

4. Spindle Motor with Electric Fan

Round Air-cooled hub

Round Air-cooled hub and its inverter should be used together. The choices of the inverter should match the essentials of the electric Spindle. In case these setoff-kilter off-kilter, the electric center point will be singed. During the limit and transportation of the electric Spindle, the state of quick oil inside the bearing will change, and the client should run the turn Motor at a low speed before use.

WHD supplies sorts of Fast Air-Cooled Spindle Motors for CNC scratching and CNC switch machine, including Round CNC machine spindle, Square CNC Spindle Motors, and CNC Spindle Motors with Rib, for any utilization of orchestrating and drawing. With north than 20 years of relationship with conveying and selling turn Motors, WHD Spindle Motors has been traded to the USA, Europe, Brazil, India, Russia, and so on out of control. WHD Motors brings you three different round air-cooled Spindle Motors.

Water-cooled spindle:

An electric center point is an electromechanical social gathering that facilitates a motor, a Spindle and heading, and an instrument holder or something to that effect. It might likewise at any point have cooling procedures.

A piece of the water-cooled Spindle is:

Spindle Motor for wood/plastic: — WHD has more than 20 years of dominance in making and giving water-cooled axles to various CNC Spindle application fields as one of China’s driving center Motor makers. Our Spindle Motors have now been exchanged to the US, Europe, Brazil, India, and Russia, among various spots.

Spindle Motor for stone: — WHD has north than 20 years of health in making and giving Water-cooled turn Motors to various CNC applications fields as one of China’s driving Spindle Motor makers. Our center point Motors have now been exchanged to the US, Europe, Brazil, India, and Russia, among various spots. The model is STZ140–11-ER32, the power is 11.0kW, the width is 140 mm, the speed is 24rpm, the voltage is 380V, the current is 20.9A, the repeat is 100–800Hz, and fundamentally more parts.

[collectingmuses]

// Hello, yes, here's the mentioned shippy drabble I wrote about two OC's set in the late 70s.

Is this purely for myself???....yes. I'm posting it anyways.

Her eyes were drawn to the glint of the coin in the dim light, watching as it flipped effortlessly through the air, blurring into a silver orb as it twirled. The quarter clattered against the bar top, bouncing unsteadily onto it’s edge where it wobbled and spun before finally falling over and settling to a full stop.

“Heads. Fuck!” George Washington’s expressionless face stared off into nothingness as Maggie let out a frustrated groan.

“Holy shit.” Eric murmured, his usual dry monotone tinged with the faintest hint of genuine surprise and enthusiasm. “I won? I never win.”

“We can flip it again.” Maggie offered. “Yeah? Best two outta three?”

“Oh, no. No, no.” Eric’s smirk stretched out into a full blown smile as he picked up the coin, tapping it against the hardwood of the countertop and slowly backed his way towards the jukebox. “The rules are clear. Winner gets jukebox rights for the rest of the shift.”

Maggie cringed. “At least pick something good.”

The only thing close to a reply that came from Eric was the sound of the quarter dropping into the metallic slot on the front of the jukebox. Maggie sighed, frowning in anticipation while watching Eric press a few different buttons, getting his money's worth of music. The jukebox whirred to life, dropping the first 45 onto the spindle.

Buddy Holly began to play, eliciting another exaggerated moan of anguish from his coworker.

“Mate, you’re killin’ me with the grandpa music.”

The duo were opposites in every sense of the word. Maggie, a fish out of water, was stranded a long ways away from her native England. That in itself was enough to make her an oddity in this backwater Louisianan town, but her chopped and dyed hair and DIY clothes, all ripped and torn and sewn and safety pinned, made damn sure that she stood out amongst the locals more so than she ever did back in West London.

Eric was a veteran, a draftee of ‘nam. He never talked much about it, and Maggie never really pried, but she’d gleamed enough to know it was a bad time for him. Real bad. Not that you’d ever know it to look at the guy. His dry, sardonic voice...the little grin tugging at the side of his mouth as he swept the bar floor and grooved along to the music he knew she couldn’t stand...he seemed normal, well adjusted. He was the exact kind of square that Maggie and her friends would snark about in her old life.

‘Funny how that works out?’ Maggie mused to herself, absently polishing the last of the glasses, stacking them up in rows of five behind the bar. ‘Anywhere else, any other time or place on the face of the earth, and we’d never even give one another the time of day.’

She glanced up in time to see Eric twirl the broom around playfully as he began sweeping between the opposite row of tables.

‘Well...I wouldn’t, at least.’ she continued the thought. ‘Eric’s too much of a puppy.”

“What?”

Maggie jumped, Eric’s voice jolting her from her little daydream. Part of her worried she had accidentally uttered the quiet part loud, but the truth was only slightly less mortifying. Eric had caught her staring at him.

“You.” she covered, not missing a beat. “Just watching the show. They teach you those moves in boot camp, soldier boy?”

It was enough to earn a laugh from the young man. “Oh, yeah. First week in basic...how to cut a rug.”

“Too bad your taste in music is shite.” she teased, still somewhat sore over losing the wager. One of the positives about closing the bar alone was having full control over the music. She’d managed to sneak a few records from her personal collection into the machine, and while she’d been able open up Eric’s mind to the new punk sound, he still had a habit of playing tunes that hadn’t been considered cool in well over a decade. She missed nights of endless Sex Pistols, The Damned, and the Stooges.

The song came to an end, the jukebox whirred to life as it switched out the vinyl for the next song. Eric shrugged and set the broom aside.

“You don’t like my music, you don’t like my moves. I just can’t win, can I?” he replied, playfully pouting. “Make you a deal, though. You do me this one little favor and I’ll unplug the jukebox, reset it, let you play what you want for the rest of the night.”

“Mmmh, tempting. What’s the catch?” Maggie asked, arms folded atop the polished countertop as she leaned forward, like she was about to hear some juicy secret. The needle dropped inside the machine, the opening strains of “You’ve Really got a Hold on Me” by Smokey Robinson began to play from the speakers.

“Dance with me?” Eric asked, as casual as can be while threading a hand through his shaggy mop of blonde hair.

Maggie the sarcastic, tough, caustic, young woman that she was hadn’t expected to be caught so off guard by the bluntness of the request. Her face went a faint shade of red, which she tried to hide by tossing up her hands and (accidentally) letting out the most undignified snort/laugh/squeal that either of them had ever heard.

“Are you takin’ the piss?” she asked, all while Eric smirked and began to dance along to the song. Maggie shook her head, trying her damnedest to appear unaffected, which wasn’t doing much to convince either of them. “You must be. You’ve lost it, man.”

Eric didn’t respond, instead he kept dancing, picking up his broom to use once again as a stand in for a dance partner. He moved to the beat...even began to sing along to it while playfully motioning to Maggie to join him.

‘ I don't like you, but I love you...’

“Oh, no. Now the singing. I can’t believe this.”

‘Seems that I'm always thinking of you.’

“Eric, seriously, I’m weighing the pros and cons of committing arson right now.”

“Oh, oh, oh, you treat me badly...”

“Ugh, ALRIGHT fine!” She huffed, slapping her hands against the counter, just barely hiding her own bemused smile. Maggie stepped out from behind the bar, dragging her feet while making her way over to the taller man. “...but I get to play what I want for the rest of our shift.”

“Hey, that was the deal, right?” Eric replied, dropping the broom, and offering his hand to the punk rocker. She hesitated, suddenly feeling quite shy. Eric was a friend, about the only one she had since ending up here in Sunny Hollow...he was always kind to her, despite her sarcasm and barbs aimed at his insufferable, loud mouthed brother. He was just goofing around, nothing more...right? No, she wasn’t reading too much into this.

So then why the hell was her heart pounding so hard as she took his hand?  Where was her wit and venom as he gently pulled her closer to his chest and began to slow dance with her? Just like that, her defenses were gone.

Whatever concerns she had about getting back home, about this strange little town, about where exactly her and Eric stood had melted away. Right now all that mattered was the moment. An arm slid around the soldier’s waist, her cheek resting against his chest, letting Eric lead them as the song continued to play. 

It wasn’t a very long song, unfortunately, already more than half over by the time she had finally agreed to the dance. Just as it ended she felt him begin to pull away, no doubt to keep up his end of the promise.

“Ok, Mags...I guess I made you suffer enough. I’ll go unplu-”

Maggie tightened her embrace, keeping him from breaking away just yet. Puzzled, Eric peered down at Maggie who met his gaze.

“One more?” she asked. “Your taste isn’t that bad.”