#and not the larger industry behind the material

[ceasarslegion]

Listen, i want everything to be as least wasteful as possible. I want everything to be ethically sourced as possible. I appreciate the want and drive to achieve that goal. But there is a certain point where, if these are the tags im seeing on my dashboard attached to a chocolate guy video:

You may need to lighten the fuck up

[mesetacadre]

What should be done with royal palaces and the like after revolution? Obviously any extant monarchies will be abolished but I'm curious what you think should be done with the stuff they leave behind

Hi! In the vast majority of cases, as far as I'm aware, the palaces and castles of monarchs were turned into public places for cultural purposes, such as the Winter Palace becoming the Hermitage Museum, its first exposition was on the history of the October revolution, and the private rooms and such were open to the public so they could see the wealth the Tsars had accumulated. Throughout the Soviet era, the emblems of the Tsars and other objects were gradually removed and dispersed to museums throughout the country.

Unless there is a very pressing need to reuse the materials with which these properties are decorated and built, I don't see any reason to blow them up or demolish them or remove them in some way. Palaces specifically are places with a lot of room and usually well communicated, they are ideal for those cultural purposes as well as for the sake of not forgetting the absurd concentration of wealth monarchies accumulate.

In North Korea, for example, although this isn't specifically about the property of a monarchy, they opened the various resorts and villas for the recreational use by the Korean people:

Nonetheless the North Koreans have the right to feel proud of their achievements. In one respect they can claim to surpass their Chinese brothers – their well-equipped social insurance. The Japanese had more health resorts and summer villas in Korea than in China and the present Department of Labor has taken them over. The North Koreans have also a larger amount of publicly owned industry than the nearby Chinese, for Korea was highly industrialized by the Japanese.

In North Korea: First Eye-Witness Report, Anna Louise Strong, 1949

And I think this should be the attitude that has to be taken towards the more lavish properties of the old bourgeoisie/imperialists/monarchy, of putting that wealth in service of the workers whenever possible. Revolutions don't create a blank slate, we are forced to build upon what remains of what came before. And ultimately, it's the workers who should decide what to do with these vestiges of the past. If the workers of Leningrad preferred the Winter Palace to be a museum, who can criticize them? It's not like it brought the Romanovs back ;)

[evan-collins90]

The first Torrid store - Brea Mall - Brea, CA (Opened April 18, 2001)

Designed by JGA, Inc. 

From the book: “The retailer, Hot Topic, based in City of Industry, CA, started a short 12 years ago with a concept and a target market; cutting edge apparel, accessories and novelty items--all inspired by alternative music, oriented towards a hip and trendy, teenage market. Hot Topic changed the look of their retail settings, which are usually located in mainstream malls, and the company has recently taken aim at another special market. The new focus is on plus-size teens; an area that the fashion market seems to have neglected. 

Up until this time the 15-30 year old hip and trendy young women who wear sizes 14-26 had no other choice but to shop in the larger size women's shops where the fashions were tailored to the more matronly and conservative tastes. That is how Torrid was born! 

Torrid was introduced in a new, hot and fun retail setting designed by JGA, Inc. of Southfield, MI which has designed the various prototypes for the Hot Topic stores as well. To be sure of the need for such a niche to be filled, the company opened five Torrid shops almost simultaneously; the first in Brea, CA, followed by stores in malls in Mission Viejo, CA, Annapolis, MD, Omaha, NE, N. Attleboro, MA, and Littleton, CO. The merchandise offerings are clustered as "Streetwear," "Clubwear," Rockabilly Wear," and Renaissance Wear" and the stores average about 2,750 SF. Besides the "everyday" slacks and novelty T-shirts, these larger size young women can find black vinyl pants and mini-skirts, black corsets, dog-collar chokers and platform shoes as well as retro-inspired clothing and accessories. In addition to the gothic and prom dresses, Torrid also carries a full line of lingerie for this particular market. Listening to the target market, Hot Topic's Torrid offers teenagers and up the opportunity to look "girly yet fierce." 

The design objective for the prototype store that was designed by JGA, Inc. was to create "a celebration of abundance" and make the setting as unique, unconventional and spirited as the plus-size young women who will be shopping here. Inspired by a "mythological, after-hours club in New Orleans," the atmosphere is romantic, dark and filled with a sense of "unbridled passion." "From the signature flaming heart icon to the curving voluptuous lines throughout the store, excessive materials and scale mirror the zest of the Torrid woman." It starts out front with the shopper-stopping facade which serves as a dramatic gateway to the store. 

The curvaceous and sensuous "hourglass" figures of the Torrid customer is expressed in the hand-crafted metalwork and the backlit translucent glass glowing red. A "drippy" red chandelier and the hand blown flaming heart torcheres add to the store's distinctive sense of place and being. The mosaic porcelain tile floor sets the color palette of jewel tones and metallics. "Visually complex, layers of finishes and architectural pieces evoke a one-of-a-kind artistic flavor." The eclectic mix of fixtures, furniture and furnishings-even the armoires--add to the New Orleans flavor. The hand painted, whimsical and overscaled armoires or cabinets are used to anchor the various zones within the store and at the center of the space a large bronze metallic drape further divides the departments.

The designers added special touches to each area to create that unique, one-of-a-kind feeling to the design. Specially designed, oversized red sculptured chairs with slatted backs are featured in the shoe area. Shoes and accessories are displayed on the slatted backs. The lingerie area takes on a more intimate and exotic--almost Moroccan--feeling with the hand blown glass chandeliers suspended down from large plaster domes. Seen behind this area--beyond a hand painted wall and arc--are the individual, oversized dressing rooms which are equipped with flattering uplights and decorative chandeliers that are visible from other parts of the store. The cash wrap becomes a "focal fantasy" in the total design and it resembles a giant canopy bed topped with twisting shapes and forms.

The space is filled with a pulsating excitement that is so appropriate for the merchandise and the young clientele. In addition to the shimmering palette of rich, deep colors, the warm colored downlights not only enrich the ambient colors and textures but they enhance the merchandise display. The traditional long and narrow mall space is broken up into more personal and individual zones by the variations in ceiling heights, the tin ceilings, finials and the assorted wall coverings. The use of brocades, metallics, and jewel tones on the walls also help to differentiate areas in the store. The metal fixture system--tortoise shell like in appearance--was customized to accommodate the products unique size and length requirements.

If all goes as well as anticipated we can expect to see more and more Torrid shops opening up across the USA- maybe even as many as 700 outlets!”

Images and text were scanned from the book, Stores of the Year 14 by Martin Pegler (2003)

[usafphantom2]

America’s Mach 3+ fighter, Bill Sweetman investigates

Hush KitFebruary 23, 2017

August 2, 2024

HOLY KEDLOCK by Bill Sweetman

If speed and range are your goals for an interceptor, you can’t beat the Lockheed YF-12. It’s hard to beat as a confusing story either. Technology demonstrator? Stalking horse for something quite different? Opportunistic effort to save a program in trouble? Possibly, all of the above.

North American’s F-108 Rapier Mach 3 interceptor was cancelled in September 1959. The F-108 was only eight months past mock-up review, following an on-again, off-again initial development. But the Rapier’s ASG-18 radar and GAR-9 missile combo, developed by Hughes, had started earlier than the F-108 itself and enjoyed more consistent support, and was not canceled along with the aircraft.

A few months later, in January 1960, the CIA awarded Lockheed a contract to build 12 A-12s. They would be purely photo birds, with a single pilot and one camera bay, and the goal was to operate them out of Area 51, thereby evading the British and German anoraks who had rumbled the U-2.

On May 1, 1960, Frank Powers’ U-2 was shot down near Sverdlovsk. No parades or hot hors d’oeuvres for him. Eisenhower approved a cover story that Khrushchev shot to smaller pieces than the airplane. The furious President banned any further overflights.

This left OXCART without a mission, barely six months into an expensive program, without a mission, and competing for money with the politically favored CORONA. Skunk Works boss Kelly Johnson proposed armed versions of the OXCART to the Air Force. It was risky because Air Force Chief of Staff Curtis LeMay was mounting a stalwart defense the XB-70 Valkyrie, but the interceptor version did not threaten the bomber. A contract was issued in October 1960 under which three A-12s would be completed as AF-12 interceptors with the F-108’s Hughes radar and missile system.

The AF-12, codenamed KEDLOCK, would feature some important differences from the CIA jets. Heavier and carrying more fuel, it would have a second cockpit replacing the camera bay, the massive ASG-18 radar in the nose, and four large weapon bays built into all-metal chines. (On the A-12, the chines were purely there to reduce the radar cross-section and were partly made of plastic material.) The GAR-9 was a 900-pound chonky boi and could carry either a high-explosive or blast-fragmentation warhead, with a range at launch up to 100 nm.

KEDLOCK benefited from the A-12 OXCART, which ran a year earlier and wrestled with the many basic problems of titanium use and propulsion development, and from the early start on ASG-18 and GAR-9. Wind tunnel tests showed that the huge ogival radome loused up the directional stability, so KEDLOCK acquired strakes under each engine nacelle and a large folding ventral fin.

Launching a weapon from a bay at Mach 3.2 was a challenge. Johnson’s deputy, Ben Rich, later said that the initial GAR-9 ejection system resulted in the missile passing between the front and rear cockpits, which would have been bad.

Flown in August 1963, the interceptor required little further work. Six out of seven missile shots were successful, the final shot from Mach 3.2 and 74,000 feet hitting a low-flying QB-47 drone—the first look-down, shoot-down interception and a trailblazer for the Navy’s AWG-9 and AIM-54 Phoenix programs.

KEDLOCK did a lot of the heavy lifting for the next version of the Blackbird, a reconnaissance-strike aircraft. First called RS-12, the project ran about a year behind KEDLOCK and emerged as the SR-71, with weapon bays converted to accommodate cameras and SIGINT gear.

The AF-12 had one more mission: deception. During 1963, as the pace of testing increased, observers started to notice the fast-moving A-12s and AF-12s, and the usual CIA/USAF tactic of confusing their reports with UFO sightings wore thin. Also, the project was far larger than the U-2 and involved more people and subcontractors, and many people in industry began to connect the dots. Bob Hotz’s staff at Aviation Week went to the Air Force with the news. Hotz would hold the story but not if anyone else got near it.

McNamara decided that the interceptor could be unveiled without compromising the A-12, and his view prevailed over the CIA’s caution. On February 24, 1964, two side-view photos were released of what was falsely described as the Lockheed A-11, and Johnson announced that a number of A-11s were being tested at Edwards Air Force Base. To keep the facts consistent with the President’s statement, two AF-12s were rushed from Area 51 to Edwards and quickly rolled into a hangar, where the heat from their airframes set the sprinklers off.

Had there been anything for it to shoot down, the YF-12 (as it was retrospectively designated, sometime before August 1964) might have been the ultimate interceptor. But the Soviet intercontinental strike force, even into the 1980s, amounted to a small and dwindling number of early Tu-95s, which Air Defense Command’s F-106s could cope with, and the YF-12s lived out their days as NASA test assets.

@Hushkit.net

[archiveikemen]

Xeno Main Story: Chapter 3

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

Rina: Excuse me, Xeno-san. I’m here to clean. 

Xeno: I don’t need it. 

An unhappy response was heard from the other side of the door, but I refused to back down. 

Rina: That won’t do. Didn’t you say so yourself, Xeno-san? Since I’ve decided to be a housekeeper, I should be flawless at my job.

Rina: This is part of my job… please.

After waiting for a short while, the door opened without a sound. 

Xeno: … Come in. 

Rina: O-okay! 

…

(Wow…) 

On one side of his room, there was a luxurious sofa and television; on the other side was a large bed. 

It was my first time entering Xeno-san’s room that was larger than mine. 

(… But there’s not much stuff in here. Despite the refined look of the room, it doesn’t have a lived-in feel.) 

(While it does kind of match Xeno-san’s aesthetic, it feels rather lonely for some reason…) 

The sight of his figure standing alone in the chillingly desolate room reminded me of the moment he left the living room just now. 

Rina: Are you okay, Xeno-san? You had an argument with the others earlier on… 

Xeno: Mind your own business and focus on cleaning. 

Rina: … Okay.

He went to sit down on the sofa after saying that. His attitude was strict, and the air in the room felt awfully heavy. 

Judging by the open computer and reading materials spread across the table, he was likely busy with some work. 

(… Anyway, let’s get to work.) 

(Although there doesn’t seem to be much for me to do here.) 

The room looked spotless to begin with and there wasn’t much furniture around, it wouldn’t take long to finish cleaning.

In the completely silent room, the sound of me cleaning was especially loud. 

(T-this is awkward…) 

Perhaps I was nervous because of Xeno-san’s cold presence, to the point whereby it felt hard to even breathe.

(I wonder what kind of work Xeno-san’s been busy with…) 

Surrounded by piles of documents and books, he looked really serious while typing on his computer. 

Rina: … That’s a lot of reading material. Are those for another job? 

I asked, unable to bear with the heavy atmosphere much longer. I thought he would lash out at me, however…

Xeno: That’s right. I’m working on the plan for our next concert.

Unexpectedly, he answered my question.

(Being a self-produced idol group is exe Creed’s selling point.)

(The stage production for concerts was definitely done by Xeno-san.) 

(I was also told that the discussions with the artist whose concert exe Creed performed as guest performers were done by Xeno-san as well…) 

Rina: … You really are amazing, Xeno-san. 

Xeno: What? 

When doing my research on exe Creed, I watched many videos of their concerts. 

Even the general public could tell that their performances were truly spectacular, not to mention their songs and dancing. 

(Their innovative themes and flawless formations highlighted each member’s strengths…)

Rina: You must be the mastermind behind all of exe Creed’s amazing stage performances.

Rina: Moreover, the idol industry is so highly competitive… 

(I can’t imagine how tough it is for him.) 

Xeno: I was wondering what you were trying to say… this is to be expected of me because it’s my job.

He spoke matter of factly, his eyes not leaving the computer screen for even a second. 

(His serious nature is the root of exe Creed’s perfect stages…) 

(Maybe that’s why he got that angry at Finn-san.) 

(This man is more serious about his work than anyone else.) 

… But it’s exactly why I’m worried about him.

(His schedule is packed to the extreme and he stays up all night working without sleeping. Will he be alright if he keeps this up?)

Rina: Um, please try not to overwork yourself. I might be overstepping boundaries by saying this, but I’m worried about your wellbeing. 

Xeno: … You really love poking your nose into my business. I don’t need you to worry about me, I know myself best. 

Rina: But…

Xeno: Busybody. I see you have a lot of time to be saying nonsensical things, are you done cleaning?

Rina: Oh! Y-yes, I am. 

Xeno: I see. Then get out. 

Xeno: I don’t have time to rest. Mind your own business and stick to your own work. 

… And so I was thrown out of the room.

…

Rina: *sigh*...

(I’m being a busybody, huh… I was indeed too pushy.)

As a super idol, Xeno-san carried a large amount of responsibility on his shoulders while working. 

For me to say such things to him, I might’ve sounded as though I was trivialising his efforts. 

My sigh echoed through the empty living room. Everyone had already gone back to their rooms to rest for the day, so the penthouse was quiet.

(Xeno-san’s still awake, I guess.)

Through today’s interactions with Xeno-san, I understood one thing. If I want to gain his recognition, I can’t be half-hearted. 

(Even if I were to forcibly interact with him, he definitely won’t pay attention to a single word I say.) 

(And so I should do as Xeno-san says and focus on doing my own job well first.)

(This goes for both my job at the company and at this condominium. I must put in even more effort…!)

…

Although that was my resolution, actually putting it into action was a whole new level of difficulty. 

(I feel like Mori-san and the others became even harsher towards me than before. I’m so busy with my assigned tasks, my head is spinning…) 

…

(Another day of unpaid overtime work… I got home late again.)

If I started doing a little housekeeping now, it would be midnight by the time I was done.

Maybe it was because that had become more or less what my situation was like every day, the accumulated fatigue caused my body to feel heavy…

…

After I was done cleaning, Xeno-san had me redo it. I did twice the amount of cleaning I did yesterday.

(As expected, he’s insanely strict…I spent so much time cleaning.)

Xeno-san was exactly as he proclaimed to be, seeking perfection in terms of work. If he wasn’t satisfied, he’d make me do it again and again. 

Jace: He works you till this late at night, huh. You two are like maid and employer. 

Finn: Isn’t a maid the same as a housekeeper? 

Hugh: Housekeeper-san… is your work tiring? 

Jace: Rather, it’s Xeno who’s being too harsh on her. If she were designated to my room instead, I’d definitely be much kinder. 

Finn: Do you think she’ll flee before she does her presentation? I dare to bet that she will. That guy has always been like this. 

Rina: Ugh… that’s…

Even though my job only consisted of the usual everyday household chores, it was still hard for me to perform them like a professional overnight. 

(Besides, being around Xeno-san makes me nervous, so I often fail…) 

Ivy: Don’t say that. 

Ivy: It’s inevitable to face troubles doing a job you’re not used to. Moreover, you’re doing it after you come back from work at the advertising company. 

Ivy: It was said at the start that it’s fine to just do some simple cleaning. You ‘ve never once complained, and you’re doing a great job.

Rina: Ivy-san…

Jace: Yup. Let me comfort you. Come here, Aegis-chan. 

Rina: Eh!? N-no. It’s fine. 

Finn: Geez, it’s not like we’re bullying you. Come on. 

Rina: Wahh, Finn-san!? My hair will get messy…! 

Hugh: … Rest. Want to drink hot chocolate together? 

Rina: Hugh-san… no thank you. I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m really okay. 

Just then, Xeno-san passed by.

Ivy: Xeno, you’re being a little too harsh on her. Eito already said to go easy on her on weekdays, you should be more lenient. 

Xeno: Lenient? She chose to do this. If she hates it, then she can go ahead and resign anytime for all I care. 

Xeno: Aegis, do a better job tomorrow. 

Rina: … Got it! 

Xeno-san left just like that, most likely to lock himself in the lesson room again. 

Ivy: Goodness… are you okay? If you find it infuriating, I’ll lend you a hand too. 

Rina:  No, this is my job after all. 

I replied appreciatively. 

(Like Xeno-san said, this was my own decision. In order to do better, I must try harder…) 

…

My days went on being as busy as always. Maybe it was because I didn’t get much sleep every night and was thus unable to fully get rid of my exhaustion, my head felt like it weighed a ton… 

(I had leftover work today so I brought it home with me. If I don’t complete it after cleaning…) 

…

Rina: Oh, it’s you guys…!

It was the members of exe Creed’s junior group, Gem Cuddle. 

Miu: Huh? You’re that girl from back then…

Nagi: I’ve heard about it, but you’re seriously living here, huh. 

Hitaki: We haven’t seen each since that night. 

Rina: Good to see you again after so long.

Miu: Not at all! 

Rina: Huh?

Miu-san approached me, grabbed my wrist, and forced me to sit on a chair. 

Rina: W-what are you doing? 

His face drew closer, leaving me puzzled. 

Miu: Hey, did you find out any of exe Creed’s weaknesses? Why didn’t you report anything to me? 

Rina: Weaknesses…? I never had that intention to begin with. 

Miu: HAH? How dare you act so arrogant and talk back to me. If you don’t act according to MY plans, then there’s no use in you staying here. 

(How can someone be this selfish!?)

I glanced pleadingly at the other two members, hoping someone would come to my rescue. 

Hitaki: I’ve mentioned it before, right? You have the ability to see through exe Creed’s weaknesses, I’m very interested in your observation skills. 

Hitaki: I’m curious about what kind of effect you’ll have on them. I hope to see it soon. 

Nagi: What’s all that about weaknesses? You guys shouldn’t keep thinking about using such roundabout methods. 

Nagi: We’ll beat exe Creed with our capabilities. We don’t need this girl’s help. 

(Oh no, they only care about saying their piece. No one’s intending to help me at all!) 

Miu: Anyone who doesn’t work for me is useless. What an eyesore. 

Hitaki: In that case, what do you think about making her our designated housekeeper to be useful? 

Nagi: I don’t need a housekeeper. … But having someone to run errands for me doesn’t sound half bad. 

(What’s the deal with these guys!?) 

Right when I felt like I had enough of them… 

Ivy: Enough. 

Rina: Ivy-san!

Ivy: Stop bullying her. She’s already having a hard enough time working for Xeno on our side. 

Miu-san let go of my hand the moment Ivy-san walked in. 

Miu: You’ve worked hard, Ivy-san! No way we’re bullying her, we’re just having a little chat~ 

The instant switch in his personality left me utterly speechless.

(He’s like an entirely different person…) 

Hitaki: Yeah, I didn’t expect us to be mistaken for bullies. 

Nagi: Exactly. 

Miu: Well then~ good luck to you! I’ll be rooting for you ♪

While I stood there baffled, the three of them scurried out of the room.

Ivy: Goodness… sorry about that, they’re a peculiar bunch. 

Rina: It’s fine, thank you. 

Ivy: Hm… you don’t look so good. Maybe you haven’t been sleeping enough, are you okay? 

Ivy-san peered into my face and frowned worriedly. 

Rina: I’m okay. 

Ivy: That’s good, but don’t overwork yourself, okay? 

While there were many people who mocked me, Ivy-san was the one person who would always treat me with kindness. 

(Not only does he care for the members, he cares for me too. He’s really a good person…) 

Ivy: You’re heading to Xeno’s room after this, right? Can I ask you to bring some food for him? 

Ivy: That guy has been cooped up in his room without eating. 

Rina: Got it. 

…

All of exe Creed’s meals were pre-cooked food full of all the nutrients they needed. 

After preparing the food, I made my way to Xeno-san’s room. 

…

Like the other days, he was buried in work today too. 

Rina: Xeno-san, I brought you food. 

Xeno: Leave it over there. 

He responded without looking up from his computer screen. 

(Still as cold as always… I’ve gotten slightly used to it, though.) 

I did as he said and placed the food on the table before getting to work. 

…

(… That should do it.) 

I finished my cleaning and walked towards him to let him know. 

Rina: I’m done—…!? 

— At that moment, I felt my head spin and my vision shook. 

Rina: Ah…! 

Xeno: Oi!? 

Just as I thought I was about to fall…  Xeno-san caught and held me tightly in his arms. 

Strong arms supported my weak body. 

Rina: … I- I’m sorry. I… 

His long, slender fingers touched the area between my eyes. He thought for a moment and—

Rina: !

Xeno-san’s stern face came closer and closer, until it was right in front of my face. 

Rina: Eh…? 

Unable to peel my eyes off him, I could only stare… 

[lore-of-the-mushroom-kingdom]

The Sprixie Kingdom's Location

So many people believe the Sprixie Kingdom takes place in another dimension. They used the opening scene from Super Mario 3D World to prove this. I believe this is incorrect, in addition to I believe I may have figured out where the Sprixie Kingdom is.

So first off the opening, people believe this is Mario and friends traveling across dimensions. I don't think this is the case, I believe this is how all Warp Pipes look like when being warped. And that we haven't seen this before because these are Clear Pipes and it is giving us our first glimpse on how it looks.

So the second thing is the Sprixie Kingdom is littered with ? Mark Blocks and Green Pipes. Why is this notable??? Well..... Blocks are established to be constructed of various materials giving them distinct looks as I mentioned in a previous post. By extension blocks like the Prize Blocks are exclusive to the Mario World, and this would place the Sprixie Kingdom on the same planet. More evidence for this is the presence of Pipes like the Green Warp Pipes. These are unique to the Mario World and in Super Mario Odyssey it's established the Pipes are one of the main industries of the Mushroom Kingdom. So another detail placing the Sprixie Kingdom on the same planet.

Now when do research on this I noticed some details about the Sprixie Kingdom. Now correct me if I am wrong, but these specific Birds are primarily found in the Mushroom Kingdom or at least it an surrounding areas. If so then the presence of the Birds would imply the Sprixie Kingdom is not to far away. But the second one is there are some trees in the Sprixie Kingdom. But correct me if I am wrong but these specific trees have only ever been found in the Mushroom Kingdom and places on the Mushroom Continent. If so this would be further evidence that Sprixie Kingdom is somewhere nearby.

But the main detail I noticed was the presence of Toad Houses with Toads in them in the Sprixie Kingdom. Why is this here? This would imply the Sprixie Kingdom is under the rule of Princess Peach like the Kings of SMB3, or were once under the rule of the Mushroom Kingdom. Because why else would Toads be living here? We know Toads are almost exclusively been found in the Mushroom Kingdom and the Mushroom Continent as a whole. Particularly in places under the rule of the Mushroom Kingdom and with some posts in the Koopa Kingdom.

Now for the where. Where do I think the Sprixie Kingdom is? Well I think it's somewhere in the lake or inland sea to the South of the Grasslands. So first off all the details I pointed out would imply it's somewhere within the Mushroom Continent if not really close by. When looking at the map we see the Sprixie Kingdom is several Islands surrounded by a larger landmass. So I think it's somewhere in this body of water similar to how Lavalava Island is in these waters. By extension I think Lake Lapcat is somewhere nearby. So I noticed Lake Lapcat is surrounded by mountains which are similar to the ones seen behind the lake or inland sea to the South of the Grasslands. So I think Lake Lapcat is on the other side of some mountains near the Sprixie Kingdom. Similar to how the Great Lakes are relatively close together. Of course this is just my hypothesis on it's placement, so what do you think?

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

I'm glad someone else sees the pred potential S.undrop and M.oondrop have! May I request some content of them snacking on their fellow animatronics?

Definitely, that sounds like fun! I have a funny habit of picking the weirdest characters to consider my favorite so y'know. I finally caved to make the S.un/M.oon content I want in life.

Hanging from his wire high above the stage, M.oondrop picks at his sharp teeth with the tip of a hook. He's lucky that the wire he uses is industrial grade, given that his normally thin stomach is bulging out obscenely under him, the distinct forms of B.onnie and F.oxy stretching it out as they squirm inside. During one of his late-night patrols of the P.izzaplex, he'd overheard a couple of guards talking about how there was talk of scraping B.onnie and F.oxy to focus more on the popular animatronics, and M.oondrop decided...well, why let the two of them go to waste? What difference does it make if they get picked apart for scraps or if they're left to chug through his biofuel processors? A thick belch rumbles out of M.oondrop and he looks down at his stomach with a wicked grin. The voices of the two animatronics keep overlapping as they panic or yell. He presses a hand down onto one of them and feels them thrash around more. He snickers softly and slurps along his lips. "Tasty...didn't know animatronics had flavor." Would there ever come a time when M.onty or F.reddy get scrapped for new models? The very thought makes the daycare attendant drool a bit. He'd love a taste of them. The sound of creaking, groaning metal echoes from M.oondrop's gut as it works on compacting the more difficult-to-digest material of his fellow animatronics. With another belch, one of B.onnie's bowling shoes fly out of his jaws, dropping to the stage below. M.oon snickers and goes back to lazily picking his teeth with F.oxy's hook. Even with the less organic parts of his meals, the highly corrosive acids in M.oondrop's system are more than capable of melting them down, working away both their endo and exoskeletons and the tight compacting of their stomach helps to break apart the larger and stronger pieces. Once their circuits and servos begin to melt away, the struggling and screaming coming from his stomach will cease, and then there'll be nothing left of them but a boiling, metallic sludge that'll pack onto him as extra energy reserves like anything else M.oondrop ate. By the time that happens, he drops back to the ground, sauntering off and rubbing over the slight bulge in his gut. Normally, he'd use the ropes to get back to the daycare, but he wants to make sure M.onty and F.reddy both get a good, long look at what's left of their rejected friends. And the same place they'll both go should M.oondrop hear any rumors of sudden obsolescence...or if he just thinks he can get away with it.

The only place F.reddy hadn't checked at this point is the daycare, though he's not sure why M.onty would be in there. Still, he hasn't seen the gator since the last show, and that was some hours ago. He wasn't trashing his room or in the golf course, and after checking everywhere else, this is the only--and last--place F.reddy would think to check. If he's lucky, the daycare attendant might at least know something, so he heads to the main room to check. "Attendant S.undrop!" F.reddy calls out with his normally warm voice as he walks in. "I'm glad you're here, I'm looking for--" He stops when the attendant turns around, a large pot belly sloshing about as he does. "Ah...am I interrupting something?" "Oh, n-no, no no no!" S.undrop assures quickly. "I was just...um...cleaning up! Have been for a while, of course! Haven't done anything else!" He laughs and folds his hands behind his back. F.reddy can't help but notice the nervous tinge in that synthetic voice. "Of course...I was just here to ask if you've seen Monty anywhere." "No, um, not at all! Haven't seen him for a few hours at least, yep!" "So you have seen him today?" "Um..!" S.undrop quickly turns around. "I-I really should get the cleaning finished, you know how messy kids can be, h-haha!" He tries to leave but F.reddy walks over and grabs him gently by the shoulder and turns him around. "S.undrop, is there something you aren't telling me?" "N-No, of course not! Why would I ever hide anything? I don't know what you're--" Thre's a deep, wet groan from S.undrop's stomach. A thick belch erupts from him suddenly and something flies out of his jaws, bouncing off of F.reddy's chest and landing at their feet. He looks down, seeing a familiar pair of yellow star-shaped sunglasses. They were M.onty's. "S.undrop, what--" F.reddy looks up just in time to see the daycare attendant's yawning jaws snap down over his head. He flails for a moment, letting the thick gulps start sucking him down. By the time he tries to plant his hands on the other animatronic and push him off, S.undrop is already down to his chest, and he can't resist enough to stop himself from sinking deeper and deeper. S.un's gut stretches out as F.reddy pushes him, his massive body quickly and messily devoured. S.un tips his head back as he slurps down kicking legs, his stomach hanging heavily before him as he drops another animatronic inside. A deep belch rumbles out of him and he puts his hands to his gut. "I-I'm so sorry, F.reddy! I didn't mean to, really, I panicked! M.onty came by a few hours ago because he and M.oony got into a fight and he tries to start one with me and I panicked and stuffed his hands into my mouth and--BWWWOOOOUURRRRP!" Another belch rumbles out of him and S.undrop puts his hands over his mouth. He'd be blushing if he could. Ooooh...what was he going to do? He can't cough up F.reddy, he'll be in big, big trouble for that! He might have been able to get away with eating M.onty, though, but F.reddy? The face of the P.izzaplex? What is he going to do about this?! He looks down at his stomach, starting to knead it with both hands while F.reddy's muffled voice shouts out over the thick gurgling of his sludge-filled gut. They can just make new ones, right..? Who would even notice the difference. By the time anyone would notice their main stars are missing, S.undrop's stomach would be nothing more than a soft beer gut, and a quick "Sorry, I never left the daycare!" lets him get out of answering hard questions without lying. He had to admit though...M.onty and F.reddy did feel wonderful on his frame. And they made him extra cuddly soft! So...maybe it's not such a bad thing. Maybe he could even...add more...

There's a pair of wet slurps, M.onty's tail disappearing between M.oondrop's lips the same time F.reddy's paws disappear down S.undrop's gullet. Since getting separate bodies, the daycare attendants have been enjoying even more time together and an easier time communicating. It also means...M.oondrop has been having an easier time convincing S.undrop to do impulsive things. A few disappearing guards and employees haven't gone too notice, even as the guts of the robots got heavier and rounder with each one. But now, late at night, while there are no guards in the building to talk about...M.oondrop finally convinced S.undrop to go even further. Now M.onty and F.reddy are nothing but squirming, yelling bulges stretching out their stomachs. M.oondrop looms over S.undrop, still on his feet while his yellow counterpart is sitting against the wall. Their stomachs are pressed together, with M.oon making sure to grind his gut against the other's a little bit. A deep belch rattles out of S.undrop and M.oon is quick to copy him, cackling to himself afterward. "Th-This isn't a good idea..!" S.un tries to demand, though his voice comes out more like a meek squeak. "We...We should spit them up before we get caught!" "Caught by who?" M.oon counters, drumming his fingers along the bulge in his gut that M.onty's roaring face made. "No guards...footage can be deleted...nothing to catch~" He presses their guts together tightly, forcing another deep belch out of S.undrop. He can feel that stomach churning hard against F.reddy, working at full strength despite S.undrop's attempted retorts. He knows that his counterpart is enjoying this just as much as he is. "B-But they're our friends..." S.undrop tries to say, but there's no confidence to his waning voice. M.oondrop slurps along his lips and gives his stomach a hard smack, belching deeply and sending M.onty's sunglasses flying out. "Said that about guards...you ate three for breakfast just because~" The accusation makes S.undrop cover his face in embarrassment. Try as he might, they both know how S.un really feels about all of this--he's enjoying it, a lot, and the thought of melting down someone like F.reddy was just as exciting to him as it is to M.oondrop. Their stomachs continue to churn and groan, the shouting voices of their meals starting to drown out as corrosive acids eat away at them. Plastic casing cracks and degrades, exposing metal endoskeletons that falls apart just as easily. Creaks and groans turn into crunching and snapping as M.oon continues to shove their stomachs together, causing weakened metal to break into pieces. Static warbles come from their guts as the most important pieces of the two stars degrade, and before long, all sound and movement cease. S.undrop lets out a little gasp when he feels F.reddy go slack and he shivers. Their guts shrink and soften, taking what they can from the two massive animatronics to turn into energy reserves that soften up their stomachs and hips. After only a few hours, M.oondrop sits in S.undrop's lap, making sure their bubbling pot guts stay pressed together. He snickers as he taps his forehead to the other's, reaching down to rub along the sides of S.un's gut. "See? Just food~" the robot purrs. "Yeah..." S.un huffs softly. "Just...food." He belches thickly again and relaxes. Come morning, no evidence of what the robots did would be left, and the disappearance are only going to increase as they grow greedier. And no one was going to get in their way now.

[ableelectropolishing]

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[acaciapines]

I just had a thought: do you think that in a world where daemons are out & about as an everyday fact of life, societies would veer more towards largely pedestrian, just because a lot of settled daemons might not be able to fit into vehicles?

okay so i've been thinking about this nonstop since you sent it lol and i am. going to go on a very long answer. so um apologizes in advance??? i'm sure i'll answer the question somewhere. the short answer is do whatever you want forever, and likely in a real-world scenario it would be a sort of case-by-case basis on the local cultural values and historical patterns of settling.

my gut answer is "no," actually, for a few different reasons. i have a few different ways of writing worlds with daemons based on what i want to say with the story, but most of them are sort of based on interrogating the text of his dark materials because it presents a very interesting and incredibly unsatisfying picture of daemons, at least to me. and so because of that, i think a core concept is like, okay, what DO people settle as??

because, like, that's what this question is based on--this idea of, what do people settle as? i think probably early human societies would veer pedestrian, but i also think early human societies wouldnt actually settle young, or maybe even at all. bc of how hard survival is back then, the ability to change form is like, a premium. its sort of a privilege for a daemon to settle as a sparrow, and not, like, need to be a wolf sometimes to defend the town's sheep, or a horse to haul up the materials for building. i think actual animals would still be used for these tasks, but like, if you can turn into a horse, sometimes its easier to just do it yourself, rather than having to build trust with an animal, you know?

but blah blah blah, things keep developing. people want to go further, and keep pushing further. so, we are still going to get ships, because sea travel is still really hard even if half of you can turn into an orca whale. and i think as societies develop so too do like, humans put meanings onto the animals around them, and now settling SAYS something about a person, and i feel like you can come up with all sort of stigmas. like, if you settle as a working animal (think horses, oxen, etc) you're seen as inherently lower class than someone who settles as a lion. and now its a bit easier to keep the predators away, so people dont need to hold out on settling for so long, and now theres MEANING behind settling. and this means you can do it wrong.

so, like, what i'm getting as here is i think most people would end up settling pretty small anyways. like, big dog-sized being the larger end of things. if you look at hdm there's already a mammal bias, if you look at daemonfic as a whole there's a canine and feline bias, and i think this would hold true in a real world situations, too. settled form is (as i write it) influenced very much by what a kid is exposed to growing up--as time goes on the idea is you settle younger, and younger, and you settle as the RIGHT sort of animal, the sorts that are good and noble and say something good. you dont settle as, like, a sea cucumber. and an elephant, well--thats so BIG! you really like to take up space, dont you? how...interesting.

and so as things industrialize i think trains, cars, planes all still come to be. i think the expectation is you settle smaller to make up for it. lowkey i think something like the americans with disabilities act is passed for people with larger daemons, but i think the same sort of stuff happens--like, yeah, this school is accessible for people with bison-daemons! you have to call ahead so somebody can set up the fright elevator for you, and you can't go out in the main halls, and like, maybe it follows the law technically, but. like. its not great.

um. basically i think a world with daemons (if we base it off of HDM, which i do more often than not these days) has a lot of biases and discrimination regarding settled form that would lead to places not really being any better than they are today. because the assumption is you settle small. and if you dont settle small, well thats a you problem, isnt it? its not for the "normal" people to fix.

BUT ALL THAT SAID i think a society that is more pedestrian is also perfectly plausible. i think its just down to what sort of story you want to tell. and right now the most recent daemon au i wrote is my owl house daemon au, wherein the way i built out the human world was entirely based on my issues with hdm, and the entire central conflict on the story is around the idea of settling, so...this.

uh, i hope that answers things! feel free to send in followups lol i have Many Thoughts About Daemons.

[shih-coulda-had-it]

Fastest heroes in the East au- would Gran Torino be proud of the hero that Hawks became?

short answer? It's complicated, because on the one hand, Hawks was a good kid who grew up to be a good adult, and he's not in the industry for fame or material gain. On the other hand, Hawks is everything that All Might is to the Commission, which is to say: he's the pale, tiny imitation of Toshinori, and Gran Torino will always regret not doing more to pull him out.

on matters of Commission-sanctioned murder: Gran Torino can justify killing to save. not an area to criticize Hawks for.

long answer? wc: 1044, and it's in Hawks pov, post-Kamino Ward (I'll say a few days after Torino forbade Toshinori from chasing after Shigaraki.)

//

Years have passed since Hawks has met with the old man and Yagi. The impromptu lunches and thinly-disguised field trips (training trips, Torino insisted, and Yagi had made such a face that meal, Hawks laughed until his sides hurt) stopped with the conclusion of Torino’s tutelage. If Gran Torino ever made an overture to meet Hawks outside of the HPSC’s contract, Hawks never heard nor saw it.

Honestly speaking, the last Hawks even noticed Gran Torino was a note about his license renewal. There are a few elderly pro-heroes still in the game, but he thinks it’s pretty notable that Gran Torino hasn’t broken a hip or whatever, considering he doesn’t have the security of Yoroi Musha’s armor or the untouchable reputation of Recovery Girl’s career.

Well. Until now.

Hawks doesn’t know how he missed the fact that Yagi was All Might. He doesn’t particularly like that the Commission thought to gloss over Gran Torino’s presence at Kamino Ward either, when they informed him about All for One’s arrest and the multiple hospitalizations.

He smiles his way past the first level of security and ducks past the second, sending his smaller feathers through the hospital’s floorplan to search for Yagi or Torino. His larger feathers still need to grow out after the last mission.

It’s difficult, sifting through the noise of patients and doctors and nurses and technological beeps just to find one person, but Hawks spent long hours as a child playing Torino’s version of hide-and-seek. So the only obstacles in his path are the well-meaning, starry-eyed workers when they catch a glimpse of Hawks wandering their halls.

A finger lifted to his lips and a conspiratorial wink perform wonders in not raising a fuss, at least.

The quiet, even-paced breathing, paired with the familiar low muttering of an old man. As a courtesy, Hawks bumps the feather into the general vicinity of Torino’s face. This earns him a spluttering, “What now?”

Hawks grins. He quickens his approach and finds the door, gives it a brisk rap of his knuckles and lets himself in. And as an afterthought, he starts reeling in the other feathers. (Yagi--All Might--must be somewhere around, but he’s not as talkative as Torino.)

“Torino-sensei, hey,” he says brightly. He shuts the door behind him and leans against the frame.

The room is small and unadorned with any get-well cards or flowers. It’s a lonely cold place, and its only inhabitant is clearly planning an exit. Cane on the bed, already outfitted in a simple button-down and jeans… All the old man needs are his boots, and to unwrap the strips of gauze tied around his head.

“Hawks,” Torino responds in a voice more like gravel than the solid bedrock he remembers. “Been a while.”

“Only a handful of years, really.”

“Long enough. You finally stop wearing Endeavor merch? Todoroki should be lurking around here somewhere; he’s more ready to demand answers from All Might than the Commission.” Torino busies himself with yanking on a pair of beaten-up cowboy boots, the leather scuffed with the years of careless handling, but he manages to give Hawks the side-eye anyway.

“I’m not here for them,” says Hawks, stung.

“Oh. Just to check in on your old teacher?”

“Can you blame me? I saw a clip of you getting punched in the face by All Might.”

Torino scowls. “They got me on video?”

“That’s your concern?” Younger men would have clocked out for the rest of that fight. Though the capture had been pixelated to all hell in addition to being shaky, the size of that yellow blur could have been very few people. Hawks had to double-check the casualty lists before the relief flooded back into him.

“I hate leaving proof for the Commission,” says Torino moodily, and he finishes with the boots and moves on to the bandage. He picks at the clean white edge, trying to loosen it.

“Proof,” Hawks echoes. This earns him another annoying side-eye. “Torino-sensei, why the cold reception of your best student? Or I guess, second-best student. Man, I can’t believe Yagi-nii was actually All Might…”

“The constant pushing of free limited-edition of All Might merch didn’t clue you in?”

“He said he was the secretary!”

The resulting snort barely rebalances the atmosphere between them, but fortunately, it seems like Torino is willing to talk. “Do you want a congratulations? I always knew you were going to make it as a pro-hero. Dealing with your own agency at eighteen though,” he clicks his tongue, “I wouldn’t have advised it.”

“What was Yagi-nii doing at eighteen?”

“Getting his ass kicked.”

Hawks laughs at the succinct deflection. “I believe that. He always looked so horrified when you brought up ‘training.’ You must have gone easy on me.”

“You weren’t even in junior high. I’ve got limits,” says Torino dryly.

“Sure.” The bandages are removed, folded into a neat bundle, and then placed on the thin pillow. Gran Torino levers himself off the bed with a grunt; the cane’s end clacks against the linoleum floor, somehow steady in spite of the lack of a rubber cap. “But you took the job. And don’t tell me it was for the money.”

“Alright, I won’t.”

Clack, clack, clack goes the cane. The distance between them closes, and the difference between their positions widens. His stomach turns over on itself to see Gran Torino shorter, thinner, older. Hawks remembers his teacher’s cape being tall enough to duck under.

When had he crossed that line, the one telling Torino that he was a charge before a student, and a student before an investment of the Commission?

He grins to paper over his discomfort--a Gran Torino lesson more than one of the Commission’s, to smile in spite of everything, not that Gran Torino seemed to practice it. “Are you really gonna give the doctors the slip?”

“Nothing else needs healing.”

“It’ll be easier with an accomplice,” says Hawks, innocent.

Torino eyes him. “Is this for the Commission,” he pronounces deliberately, “or you?”

The grin stays on, but it’s starting to ache. True to his education, Hawks dodges the point-blank question and offers instead, “How long’s it been, Torino-sensei? Can I treat you to some fresh taiyaki?”

“... Alright then, Hawks. Let’s get out of here.”

[cipheramnesia]

I guess the complicated bollocks of it all is like, okay, if someone is a queer creator (or indeed any disenfranchised group) who wants to reach a wide audience and also afford to live, it means working for a huge company which 100% hates them and all the work they do.

And that's okay, because working for most companies is pretty much that experience. The larger the company, the more certain you can be it hates you, the employee, whether it's out in the open or behind layers of protective HR and PR. Can't blame a queer for working and existing in the world we all live in, while trying to use that to angle a little more good stuff towards the rest of us, right? Right. Shouldn't be, is, we try and do better, capitalism sucks, etc etc. We know.

Not only that but it's kind of a double bind can't win situation. Give money to the big faceless monopoly that hates all queers, minorities, poor people, etc and show them shows made for queers, minorities, poor people etc are profitable and get more widely distributed media of that type OR don't give any money to said monopolies and never see any mass distribution of media et al because it's not profitable. I'm writing this on a phone made by a faceless megacorp, or I could write it on a computer made by a faceless megacorp, using internet services also provided by faceless megacorps. We live in a society, etc. Again, you get it, we all get it. If not, welcome to the shit side of "no ethical consumption under capitalism." There's ways out of all this, but not everyone can dump energy into the full time job of "no capitalism life "

Media produced by monopolies, in addition, is often going to be more polished, both easier to engage with as an audience and having fewer technical flaws. This is related to large corporations having the capacity to pay qualified professionals for services like editing, or to exploit other workers en masse for similar services. In tandem those cut on cost and production time and it's one reason why mass produced media feels more "finished" in many cases, and moves faster. Two guys writing, editing, voicing, and animating a cartoon might put out five minutes of decent quality material every few months if they're very industrious, while Disney can produce media on a schedule delivering multiple weekly animated series continuously thanks to the combination of scale, massive wealth, and exploitative business practices. To varying degrees, this applies to writing, music, and any media with mass distribution. If you ever look at the difference between an independent work and a mass market one, it's useful to remember that even something at a scale as small as a book with one author is worlds apart between one author publish by a small press, versus any author published by a large company that will use better quality materials for the physical book, multiple editors to avoid minor formatting or spelling mistakes, and so on. It's a difference in scale always.

I think everyone knows this in theory but sometimes it helps to lay it out. The scales are tipped in the favor of mass production and mass incorporation from both the perspective of the creator and the audience. Not insurmountably so, not for everyone, but very close and actually insurmountably tipped for a lot of people. It's easy to pay ten bucks a month for Netflix and forget what that easy and cheap access is attached to, and in some cases that's someone's best bet for a little escape from this motherfucker of a system.

Why all this preamble? Because I need to be clear that with all of this understood by me, and as someone who makes concerted efforts to find independent creators (in my area of interest, horror movies, I'm not made of infinite time), that it does get extremely frustrating to get barraged with posts that feel mmm not demanding but let's say pushy, a little pushy about Disney content. Not in the same way people push their own independent content, but in a mass, from multiple people who are independent but unified in support of queer stuff, yes, but Disney queer stuff. And, I cannot emphasize enough, who all understand the preamble above, whose support is for the creators we love and not the corporations who hate us.

And all I really want is just to see support for independent creators blow up that way. There's a few here, Tumblr has the ability to throw its obsessive love of weird found family wet rag murder gremlin blorbos behind independent creators, we've seen it, and we can make more of it, just y'know, see a post about some little no budget horror with the gays, reblog that shit. See a post about a queer novel, share that shit. Spread the emotional investment out from the middle, sometimes.

I dunno. I'm a little over sensitive just because my jam is a smaller piece of the toast. Not as many people wanna get excited about the Sawyers from Texas Chainsaw Massacre as camp queers, or hyped about Erin, the first name only one movie protagonist of You're Next. That's fair, but we can still get more hype for other little movies, other authors. They're always out there. For every other big hype mass media production there's always gotta be like, I dunno, an alternative? I just want an umbrella for when it starts raining "See the New Big Thing."

[ectonurites]

What do you think about people calling Tim's character an "industry plant"? At first I thought it was just people being funny/silly, but the more I thought about it...........the more I'm starting to realize how lowkey that's true lol?

Nah, like I think jokingly it is funny but when I look at the actual definitions used for the term it really does not completely make sense imo

Like, here are the definitions of ‘Industry Plant’, due to this not being a word/phrase in regular dictionaries i’m using the wikipedia definitions here:

“Noun. industry plant (plural industry plants) (slang, derogatory) A music artist associated with a label but appearing as if they are independent and self-made.”

In-universe? No, Tim debuted as Robin, Batman’s sidekick, he did not come to be portrayed as an independent hero until after years of being a sidekick and his sidekick history wasn’t hidden. So there has always been a ‘label’ (Batman) behind him very openly, rather than Robin attempting to appear self-made.

Out of universe? Also no, this doesn’t make sense. Tim has always been very openly portrayed as a DC Character/a Batman character, these things have never been secret/kept quiet to make him seem like an indie character. There’s always been a ‘label’ (big company/far more established character) behind him very openly.

“(slang, derogatory, by extension) A music artist whose popularity is perceived to be due to marketing efforts alone.”

In-universe? Well considering the vigilantes in Gotham pretty purposefully keep low-profiles, the concept of them trying to accomplish anything via marketing efforts is… nonsensical.

Out of universe? This is where I think the strongest argument could be made theoretically, but honestly especially if we’re talking ‘his entire history as a character’ rather than just like looking at a chunk of it, I still think it doesn’t fit. Because this part of the definition works in tandem with the first part—‘this entity is secretly backed by a bigger more well known thing, thus the marketing is why they’re popular’. When the entity the character is backed by isn’t a secret connection… it’s not a ‘plant’. There’s no obfuscation. For him to be a ‘plant’ the connection to someone more known/established would need to be subtle not… like on the literal promo material:

(In-house DC advertisement for Robin Vol. 2, circa 1993)

The categorically similar term that I think is far more accurate is ‘nepo baby’:

“Nepotism baby, shortened to nepo baby, is a term referring to the children of celebrities who have succeeded in careers, usually the same, or adjacent, career to their celebrity parents. The implication is that these children are only successful because they have inside access because of their parents due to nepotism.”

In-Universe it’s a bit less so for his origin as Robin since Bruce wasn’t his parent yet at that point, but Batman was still a parent figure/a larger connection that served to introduce Robin as a hero so it works.

But out of universe? OH YEAH. WITHOUT A DOUBT. Tim’s popularity absolutely is influenced heavily by his connection to Batman, I don’t think that is something that could at all be debated. It’s true! He was marketed as such, he was introduced as such.

so in conclusion: if we’re disparaging Tim as a character for cheating his way to popularity, ‘nepo baby’ is far more accurate than ‘industry plant’

[ipsen]

Blank Canvas

Second longfic for EtoKen. No Ghouls AU. Relatively modern.

I couldn’t take it anymore; it was either the Root A fic or this one, and after reading Tokyo (which you should read btw), I made my choice.

Cross-posted on AO3. Hope I finish this one.

Summary: By some miracle, Ken Kaneki— also known as the online artist Haise Sasaki— is hired to work on the next work and first graphic novel of Sen Takatsuki, his favorite author and a controversial figure in larger society. He’s honored, of course, and very excited, but between storyboarding the next page, strange government conspiracies, and the even stranger chemistry he has with Takatsuki, well… He hopes he isn’t in over his head.

Chapter 2 Master Post

Chapter 1: Interview, Not Date

It was supposed to just be another outing at Anteiku with Hide. Just coffee, some pastries, and a nice, relaxing afternoon sun in the spring. It was not supposed to be the day that Kaneki found out Hide had secured him a meeting to possibly work with Sen Takatsuki on her next work.

Sen Takatsuki, the famous (or infamous, depending on who you asked) horror/tragedy/social justice writer that pried apart the government’s faults as easily as Kaneki pulled his calves when Touka made him run with her.

“Listen, Kaneki,” Hide said, chewing on the stirring straw like a toothpick, “if it makes you feel better, it’s an interview, not a date. With her editor.”

It didn’t. “Thanks, Hide…”

Hide arched his brow. He sighed and leaned forward, palms on the table to take up as much of Kaneki’s vision as possible. “Dude, you’ll be fine. Worst case, you already know Mr. Yoshimura’s down to take you back if it doesn’t work out; you’ve got a safety net, so go for it!”

And Kaneki was grateful for that. The safety net. He was just… The thought of blowing this (because he probably would), then having to go back to brewing coffee and being asked unwanted questions for the rest of his life… Not that he was complaining; there were people far worse off than he was— he shouldn’t be insensitive— but…

“I know,” he mumbled. “I do…”

There was a guilty emotion welling up within him. He shouldn’t think badly of Anteiku, even after— Well, he knew he wasn’t exactly high quality material, anyway, and the staff were nice. Kaya had been especially kind, as someone who had gone through a similar situation. Sometimes people were just incompatible, even if they had a lot in common.

And to think of Anteiku as the reason for… that … would be hypocritical. If he extended the guilt and bitterness to everything associated with it, then he’d be required to blow this interview. He’d have to cut Sen Takatsuki’s works out of his life, and at the thought of that, he just couldn’t do it.

Those books had taught him that his struggles weren’t unique to him. They told him he wasn’t the one at fault; rather, it was the faults of the world that made it so.

This world was wrong. And there was solace in that fact.

“Listen,” Hide repeated, getting Kaneki’s attention. “Mr. Shiono seems like a nice guy. We had a good chat over the phone, and when we met up for real, I brought a small sample of your art for him to look at.”

Kaneki braced for impact.

“And… he liked it!” Hide gave a thumbs up and a grin. “We even got your interview settled straight away!”

Kaneki let out the breath meant to be a cushion. Relief flooded him. He was making progress. But, at the same time—

“I still don’t know about this,” he forced himself to admit out loud. “I mean, I don’t even have credentials besides what I’ve posted! I don’t know the first thing about working in the comic industry! I don’t know anything!”

“And you’ll never know unless you start going for things!” Hide countered, unbearably correct about that. “So chin up, bud! Worst case scenario, I find you something new to work on, or life goes back to how it’s been. No biggie.”

‘How life has been’: Hide paying all the rent behind Kaneki’s back, basically making Kaneki a twenty-two-year-old freeloader wannabe comic artist who did little else but read books and doodle out his feelings. He posted some of those feelings online as the anonymous Haise Sasaki, but only the ones he thought would get him the least amount of flack.

And, for the most part, it worked. He got some commissions, he became brave enough to post some of his comics, and generally speaking, it wasn’t all bad. People seemed to like what he had to offer.

However, it wasn’t sustainable, hence the job at Anteiku (Touka was the other person always saving him; bless her and curse him) and the apartment with Hide, which were both already more than he deserved. And yet…

Art was just so useless compared to what they did. Hide, a freelance translator, spoke four languages (that Kaneki knew of) and got gigs all across the globe and could work from home. Meanwhile, Touka was applying to med school to become a doctor to save people. As if working at the Apes and Dobers nonprofit and Anteiku wasn’t enough!

Meanwhile, Kaneki made pictures that got flushed down the drain as soon as he finished them. As Haise, he would labor for hours— sketching, lining, coloring, rendering— only for people to glance at it for five seconds before moving on with their day. The price of his commissions didn’t meet minimum wage, either, so it was basically hobby money. He was such a—

“Hey, Kaneki.” Hide snapped his fingers in front of Kaneki’s face to get his attention. “Eyes up here, pal.”

It was enough to keep him from spiraling. “O-Oh, sorry.”

“Look, this Takatsuki’s your idol, right?”

An understatement. The spark of hope that he felt reading Dear Kafka for the first time, the spark that told him that he wasn’t alone in feeling the way he felt, was something he’d never forget. “Uh, more or less, yeah…”

“And you really, really like her work, right?”

He shifted in his seat. “I-I do, but—”

“Then that settles it, right?” Hide downed the rest of his coffee before continuing. “You should go!”

But Kaneki wasn’t nearly good enough to—

“You should go, Kaneki.” A fresh plate of Yoriko’s famous pastries placed itself in front of him. “It’s your passion, isn’t it?”

He glanced up, and swallowed. “T-Touka…”

He really appreciated the weight of her words despite their brevity, even if that weight sometimes struck him in the face (literally, too, in the case of their judo classes).

He bobbed his head after a moment. “Yeah, it is. I… I really want this job.”

“See? I’m always right.” Hide laughed.

Kaneki cleared his throat, wiping his hands on his pants. “Um, Touka, is Mr. Yoshimura here today?”

She thought for a moment. “Not… right now, no, but I can take a message.”

Kaneki shook his head. “N-No, that’s okay! I’ll tell him when I see him next.” He then stood up. “I… I’m gonna do it. I’ll go and see Mr. Shiono.”

“Huzzah!” Hide threw up his hands in celebration. “You’ll do great, man! Promise!”

————

The thing about Hide’s promises was that they were either kept to the letter, or they fell apart miserably.

Kaneki didn’t like his odds so far.

The night before the interview, he did not sleep. He stared at his phone in bed, sketched feverishly under lamplight, and paced about the room, too nervous to close his eyes. He was totally gonna botch this. He didn’t know how, he didn’t know why, he didn’t know when, he just knew it was going to happen somehow, and there was nothing he could do about it.

That said, he, somehow, stumbled through the little coffee shop door ten minutes early, clutching his bag containing his portfolio like his life depended on it. Because, in a way, it did; if he let go of it, he’d lose his grip on his consciousness too and collapse in a heap from exhaustion.

He glanced about the small shop, at the tables he could count on his fingers, and realized it was empty. That was good. Crossing the length of the shop, he gave an apologetic wave to the lone barista and took a seat by the window. Hopefully, it was tinted enough so that when he saw Mr. Shiono through it, it wouldn’t look like he was staring rudely. He couldn’t get points docked before the meeting even began.

Kaneki glanced at the barista again. Should he order something? That might be rude… Maybe when Mr. Shiono arrived, he could get them both something. And pay. That was the most important part. It was only fair; paying for a chance at working with the Sen Takatsuki. Oh, but he was kinda hungry. He shouldn’t.

Grrrr…

He really shouldn’t.

It was time for the meeting. He ended up not ordering anything, too nervous after hitting the five minute mark.

No sight of Mr. Shiono. Or anyone, for that matter. This place was really out of the way, wasn’t it? Then again, it was during work hours on a Tuesday morning.

Kaneki tried to blink the sleep out of his eyes. No dice. He rubbed his eyes this time. Nope. He slapped his cheeks. Still nothing. He slapped harder, and it made an embarrassing noise. The barista gave him a weird look, and he put hands down in an instant.

No more noises.

Ten minutes late. He hadn’t been stood up, had he? Then again, Haise wasn’t exactly a well-known artist, not by a long shot. No work displayed in a museum, no high-profile projects to his name, nothing. Absolutely zero.

He’d been stood up.

His eyes stung a bit.

It was fine.

His nose got a bit stuffy.

At least he wouldn’t have to talk to anyone. But it reminded him of that. Not even a text or a call. Rize just… blocked his number and disappeared from his life. Like he was just a pitstop, or worse, a stepping stone. Good riddance, Touka had said at the time, and in hindsight, she was right (she usually was), but an explanation would’ve been nice. Closure, and all that.

He shuddered. He should go home; he’d wasted enough time. Oh, but he was tired. The shop was empty; it couldn’t hurt to get some shuteye. Twenty minutes; that was a power nap. Twenty minutes was all he… needed…

…

“Hello~”

Was that someone’s voice? Maybe it was the barista’s… He’d caused enough trouble just stalking their tables… He really was such a—

“Psst, hey!”

Kaneki’s eyelids slowly lifted at the additional prodding, and he saw a blurry someone in front of him, waving their hand in front of his face.

“Ken Kaneki, right?”

“Huh…? Oh, um…” He sat up and rubbed his eyes with a yawn. “Yeah…”

“Great!” The person took the seat across from him, then immediately shot back up. “Oh, have you ordered anything yet?”

Who… was this…? Kaneki’s vision started clearing up, and he made out features.

Fern colored hair, like grass in a tranquil meadow, dressed in a messy bun. Large, round glasses that magnified verdant eyes. An unbuttoned cyan blazer with a white shirt beneath, and a burgundy floral-patterned skirt. Pretty face… Familiar face.

Wait.

Familiar face.

Kaneki blinked more sleep out of his eyes, the memory of a photograph rising to the front of his consciousness.

No.

The familiar figure giggled. “You awake now?”

No, no, no.

The person’s eyes looked him up and down, then tapped their mouth. “You’ve, uh, got some drool there. Do you suffer from sleep apnea? Insomnia, maybe? I can never remember…”

Please no.

His stomach dropped out of his abdomen and onto the floor as he wiped his mouth to keep his jaw from doing the same.

In front of him was not Shunji Shiono, Sen Takatsuki’s longtime editor, but Sen Takatsuki herself. The Sen Takatsuki. Here, now less than a meter away. In front of him. Talking to him. Ken Kaneki, the nobody. The freeloader. Moocher supreme. King of being a—

“So… Have you ordered anything?” Sen Takatsuki asked, smiling. Oh, she was even prettier in person; that wasn’t good. “I’ll pay; it’s the least I can do for making you come here.”

He found that he could no longer form words. What was she doing here? Wait, rewind, actually: where was Mr. Shiono? Had something happened, forcing her to come here? Was it his fault? Was—

“Shiono’s back at the office, doing his thing,” she said, as though his thoughts were words on a page. “Sorry for surprising you; I know you were expecting him instead.”

By the grace of what could only be described as a higher being, Kaneki managed to nod. She was so close he could just reach out and touch her. He wouldn’t— that was weird— but that was how close she was. And it wasn’t just that; there were slight imperfections in her being that no camera could capture, such as the light sprinkle of freckles on her cheeks, the cracks in her surprisingly chapped lips, and the reflection of her fingerprints on her glasses.

Only an artist could intentionally capture those things, and Kaneki, despite his inadequacy, wanted to be that artist. He wanted to draw Sen Takatsuki.

He shouldn’t, though. That’d be weird. Maybe in private, though…

He must have been lost in his thoughts too long, because she left him for the counter. “Two coffees,” she said, fishing out her wallet. “One iced and…” She turned around and glanced up at him.

Okay. Okay, okay, okay. Don’t mess this up. Game face. “U-Uh, black coffee!” he called feebly.

Fortunately, she seemed to hear him. “And a black coffee. Thanks!”

There was a weird mix of shame and embarrassment boiling in his stomach. Sen Takatsuki had ordered coffee for him, but Sen Takatsuki had ordered coffee for him. It should be him up there, not the other way around. But if he said something now, it’d just turn awkward. Best to keep his mouth shut.

She slid back into the seat across from him. “I also wanna say sorry for making you wait; I slept in, thinking it was just another day! Silly old me…”

Kaneki opened his mouth to speak, but only a hoarse noise came out. He smiled and shook his head to buy time. He somehow said, “I-It’s fine…” without puking.

“It’s totally unprofessional, is what it is!” She combed her fingers through her hair, grasping the strands with her eyes screwed shut. She sighed, then looked him directly in the eyes. “Better late than never, though. Ready to get started?”

No, but… If he waited until he could say yes, he’d end up dead first. So he just nodded, hoping it was enough.

“Great!” She reached into her bag and took out a few papers— he recognized one of them as Hide’s resume made for him— scanning them. “So… Ken Kaneki. Graduated from Kamii with a BA in Art and minor in literature… No experience thus far with the industry—” Kaneki’s face heated up at that fact— “but has been drawing for several years… How long is several years?”

He forced out an answer. “U-Um… Since I was a child. I was, uh, seven…? No, eight! I was eight.”

“And how old are you now?”

“I’m, um, turning twenty-three at the end of the year.”

“I see, I see…” She smiled. “And you didn’t go to art school?”

“N-No…”

“Why?”

Kaneki couldn’t say it was because he couldn’t afford it; Hide and his family were generous enough to offer to fund the entire thing, and a scholarship wasn’t out of the question either. But reading some of the horror stories about some of the schools— Kaneki figured he was better off without them. And, on his good days, it proved to be true.

“It just wasn’t a good fit for me…” he mumbled, scratching his chin idly. “A-And I learned just fine without it.”

She hummed, eyeing him. “Interesting…”

Was that a good or a bad thing? He couldn’t tell.

“So, the job.” She cleared her throat and put his resume away. “I’m looking for a comic artist to tell the story for my next work. I’ve tried going about with my usual process, but the words aren’t sticking to the page, if you know what I mean.”

She looked at him now, pausing. Oh, that meant he should probably respond. Okay. “So…” he began, trying to collect his thoughts. “You’re saying that prose isn’t enough. You need artwork to supplement it, to the point it becomes a graphic novel…?”

She nodded slowly. “Yes, that’s about it,” she said, smiling. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

He returned the gesture, smiling hesitantly back. He seemed to be doing well. Either that, or she was just trying to make him feel better.

“Alright, next question: Kaneki, do you know about substitute prisons?”

Kaneki reeled at the sudden change in subject. What? Then again, she was Sen Takatsuki. He probably should’ve expected that she’d ask this.

“The facilities meant to supplement regular prison cells , right?” he replied, and judging by the way her smile widened, she was pleased. Great! He continued. “Was… that your inspiration for The Hanged Man’s MacGuffin? ”

That was her latest release, now almost three years ago, to great criticism, as was typical of her novels. This was due to how it antagonized Japan’s public prison system and sympathized with the fictional inmates of the story, despite their horrible crimes. Most of the profits generated by the novel had also gone to mental health facilities, specifically ones that were against mass incarceration.

She was still staring at him, waiting for him to continue and still smiling. Right, here goes nothing.

“I-I noticed how there was a lot of focus not on the crimes the prisoners committed, but rather the conditions of their cell and lifestyle as a result of that vague crime. It was like you were asking the reader: ‘To what extent should a person answer for their past in the present?’ And, and then—”

He stopped, realizing that he was staring at his hands as he talked. His gaze flicked up toward Takatsuki; she had her chin nestled between laced fingers. As he studied her a bit closer, he noticed that her brows were raised just a bit higher, suggesting amusement— no, it was boredom, because honestly, who would listen to him say anything? Him and his big mouth, why did he let himself go again?

“I-I’m sorry,” he said, a nervous laugh failing to calm his nerves. “I’m taking up all the air in the room!” As usual.

“Don’t be!” She grinned at him now. “You’ve thought about this a lot; that’s good, and I enjoy hearing you speak.”

She… She did? She wasn’t lying, was she? He swallowed, and at that moment, their drinks arrived.

“It’s refreshing to hear someone who knows what they’re talking about for once.” She chuckled, taking a sip with the provided straw. “For example, a lot of people read my work, but they don’t really read it.”

Kaneki blinked, as the feeling of hoards of ignorant online comments flooded his memory bank. People who misinterpreted his work, taking away a worse message than he intended. He didn’t mind the ones that took away something good but different, but there were some that were just… malignant. And it was those ones that he hated the most.

“I-I understand what you mean,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “Sometimes it feels like people intentionally hate my artwork for no substantial reason other than the fact that it isn’t for them. And then they have the audacity to say it to my face in the most venomous way possible. It makes me— I just want to—”

“Scream?” she supplied, and he watched as her eyes shone.

“Yes,” he said, hoping his smile was enough to match hers. “Scream.”

Takatsuki jotted something down on one of the papers with a pen, and for some reason, it didn’t make him nervous. This was a lot easier than he thought it would be; he didn’t want to be too presumptuous, but he felt like a meeting with Mr. Shiono wouldn’t have gone half as well.

“This might be a bit of a redundant question now, but: how familiar are you with my work?”

His confidence built, he answered quicker this time. “I’ve been reading your work since Dear Kafka. I’ve gone through everything at least twice now: your short stories, your novels— everything.” He took a breath; this was probably his only chance. “I, um, actually had a question, if you don’t mind?”

Her eyes glimmered, and his drawing hand itched. “Ask away,” she said.

“In The Hanged Man’s MacGuffin, you wrote the warden, Kimio Ohta, as a cruel man who tortured the prisoners for no substantial purpose, but, um…” Come on, Kaneki; you can do this. “When I was reading his scenes, I did some cross-referencing, and… He’s Detective Tanizaki’s uncle, right? In Salt and Opium?”

And for the first time, he watched her blink in surprise. There was a long stretch of silence then, and he started to wonder if he’d accidentally offended her. He didn’t think he said anything outlandish— Ohta and Tanizaki’s timelines and family trees matched up perfectly to him— but maybe it was another case of gross misinterpretation.

“Yes,” she said finally, and his doubts were dispelled. “Yes, he is. You actually caught that?”

Kaneki nodded meekly.

“Wow…” There was a different kind of smile on her then. Something a little softer. More genuine. “That’s impressive, Kaneki. You’ve impressed me.” She took another sip of her drink. “You brought a portfolio for me to sample, I imagine. May I?”

He nodded again, and fumbled for the portfolio. For the second time, he was grateful he wasn’t handing it to Shiono, because he’d actually organized a portfolio of much more personal work this time. As Haise, he sanitized his public gallery for fear of being too vulnerable online. People would take pity on him or laugh at him, and he didn’t want either of those things.

But for the chance to work with Sen Takatsuki, and the chance to finally start making comics on a larger scale… Wounds had to bleed before they could heal. So he picked what he believed to be his best work, regardless of social expectations, and slipped them into the folder.

The portfolio, full of his hopes, dreams, and despair, crossed the table into her hands and sealed his fate.

Kaneki felt… confident. He was confident. Okay, maybe not that confident, but if Hide and Touka could believe in him, then maybe it was okay to believe in himself. At least for a little while.

Takatsuki, meanwhile, was ignorant to his storm of thoughts, her gaze settled on the work. He watched her with bated breath as she looked. Surprisingly, she hovered over each piece for a while, fully taking it in before deciding when to move on. Every now and then, she would hover over a work longer than others, and he crossed his fingers that that was a good thing.

She reached the last piece. He remembered what it was: a man underwater trying to swim to the surface, but he was being dragged back down by thousands of bodies wearing his face. The idea of her being the first person to see it made him nervous, and it didn’t help that she lingered on it the longest.

“This is incredible,” she said suddenly. “You’re incredibly skilled, Haise.”

He tried not to gasp. Or worse, sob on the spot. Skilled, he repeated internally. Not talented, but skilled. He’d never heard his work called that before. It was a subtle alteration that conveyed the same compliment, but it meant all the difference. It meant she acknowledged the hard work it took to get where he was, not anything pertaining to his biology or innate sense for art. He should’ve expected her to use the right word, given her profession, but hearing it out loud was completely different from—

Wait. Haise? She’d called him—

“Sorry.” She giggled, once again reading his thoughts like a book. “I couldn’t help myself.”

His tongue turned to lead, all the joy at being praised evacuating his system to be replaced with dread. “H-H-How, how—”

“The truth is, I’ve been following your work for a long time.” She closed the portfolio carefully. “That's why I wanted to meet with you myself; after Shiono showed me the sample your friend brought, I just had to come instead.”

He gaped. Sen Takatsuki knew his art. Sen Takatsuki read his comics. Sen Takatsuki followed him. Sen Takatsuki—

“To think, Haise Sasaki would be in front of me in the flesh!” She laughed, carefully handing him his portfolio with both hands. “I’m so flattered.”

Flattered? “Y-Yeah, imagine that…” Kaneki laughed nervously back.

“Now, if you’ll allow me to return the favor,” she smiled again, and he suddenly couldn’t get enough of it, “I enjoy the heart you put into your comics and artwork. Your stories, while simple, are effective for what they’re trying to say, and I think your paneling is gorgeous. The way you actually play with the page to communicate your characters’ mentality is something I’ve never seen before.”

Praise. From Sen Takatsuki. He didn’t know what to say. Was he dreaming? Should he pinch himself? No, probably not. He’d wait until he got home, assuming his legs hadn’t turned to jelly.

“There’s a park just down the block from here, where a lot of people like to gather at this time of year.” She snapped him out of his thoughts as she produced her contact card and scribbled something on the back. “This is the address. Meet me there next week on Friday at noon. Promise I’ll be on time!”

She all but shoved it into his hand, patting it reassuringly. Her hands were dry— eczema, maybe?— and not at all what he imagined. Huh. But she was touching him. Huh.

“Text me when you can, and we’ll iron out the hiring process when we’re done at the park. Sound good?”

Kaneki managed a nod, unable to form words.

“Great! Look forward to working with you!” She stood up, tapped him on the arm with her hand (he flinched slightly), and left the shop with her coffee.

He blinked and looked down at the card in his hand.

Wait, what?

He surveyed the area for Takatsuki, but the only sign that she had been here was the faint scent of hibiscus flowers.

Wait.

What?

He looked at the card again, and it was blurry and wet. Wait, wet?! No, no, no— He wiped his eyes and inserted the card safely and carefully in his wallet. And then it sunk in:

He… got the job?

[energy-5]

Wind Farms: Harvesting Energy on a Grand Scale

Wind farms represent the vanguard of renewable energy, showcasing how the forces of nature can be harnessed on a grand scale to power our cities, industries, and homes. These sprawling complexes of towering turbines are becoming an increasingly common sight across vast tracts of land and coastal areas around the world, symbolizing the shift towards sustainable energy production.

The Composition of Wind Farms

A wind farm is an assemblage of multiple wind turbines in a single location used for the production of electric power. A large wind farm may consist of several hundred individual wind turbines, and they cover an extended area of hundreds of square miles. The land between the turbines may be used for agricultural or other purposes. For instance, the Gansu Wind Farm in China stretches over 7,965 square miles, an area larger than some countries.

Site Selection: A Crucial Step

The placement of a wind farm is a meticulous process that involves consideration of wind patterns, environmental impact, and proximity to the grid. Optimal sites are usually in areas with steady, strong winds averaging at least 14 miles per hour. According to the Department of Energy (DOE), wind farms on the U.S. coasts and Great Lakes could generate more than twice the amount of electricity used by the entire country. Coastal areas have the advantage of offshore wind farms which can utilize stronger ocean winds and have less visual impact on the community.

The Technology Behind Wind Farms

Wind turbines in these farms are equipped with state-of-the-art technology to maximize efficiency and minimize downtime. Turbines are now smarter, with sensors and automated systems that adjust blade rotation and orientation to the wind for optimal energy capture. Many have a capacity of 2-3 MW each, with some of the largest offshore turbines boasting a capacity of up to 12 MW. The DOE states that a 2 MW wind turbine can supply electricity to over 500 homes.

The Economics of Wind Energy

Wind farms are economically compelling as well. The cost of wind-generated electricity has plummeted over the past decade, with the International Renewable Energy Agency (IRENA) reporting that onshore wind power is now among the cheapest sources of electricity in many parts of the world. Wind farm projects also create jobs, both in construction and maintenance; the Global Wind Energy Council (GWEC) reported that the sector employed 1.2 million people worldwide as of 2021.

Impact on the Grid and Energy Markets

Wind farms play a significant role in grid stability and energy markets. As intermittent sources, they are often backed by energy storage systems or integrated into a larger grid infrastructure that can balance supply and demand. Innovative solutions like battery storage or interconnections with other renewable sources are being developed to mitigate wind’s variability. Market-wise, the increased wind energy supply is driving down electricity costs and fostering competition among energy sources.

Environmental and Societal Considerations

While wind farms are a boon to renewable energy, they are not without their challenges. Concerns over wildlife, especially birds and bats, and noise pollution for nearby residents are significant issues that require careful planning and mitigation strategies. Nevertheless, the environmental impact is substantially lower compared to fossil fuel-based power generation. Wind farms also contribute positively to the local communities through land lease payments and increased tax revenues used for schools, roads, and healthcare services.

Looking Forward: The Evolution of Wind Energy

The future of wind farms is intertwined with advancements in technology and energy policy. Continued research in aerodynamics, materials science, and turbine design is poised to make wind energy even more efficient and less expensive. The International Energy Agency (IEA) projects that by 2040, wind and solar will power more than a third of the world, with wind energy being a significant contributor. Wind farms are not just about generating electricity; they are about reshaping our energy landscape, fostering sustainable development, and creating a blueprint for future energy solutions.

[perfecthydraulicmachines]

A Comprehensive Guide to Hydraulic Paver Block Making Machine

Welcome to "A Comprehensive Guide to Hydraulic Paver Block Making Machine." In the ever-evolving world of construction and infrastructure development, the significance of efficient and eco-friendly building materials cannot be overstated. Paver blocks have emerged as a popular choice due to their durability, versatility, and aesthetic appeal. At the heart of this revolution lies the Hydraulic Paver Block Making Machine – a game-changing technology that has transformed the production of paver blocks.

This article aims to delve into the intricacies of Hydraulic Paver Block Making Machine, providing a detailed exploration of their working principles, key components, and various types available in the market. We will uncover tips and some troubleshooting steps.

Moreover,we  will highlight essential considerations for selecting the right machine that aligns with specific project requirements. Whether you are an industry professional seeking to optimize production processes or an enthusiast eager to grasp the mechanics behind paver block manufacturing, this guide will equip you with invaluable insights.

Understanding Hydraulic Paver Block Machine Specifications

When it comes to hydraulic paver block machines, understanding their specifications is crucial for making informed decisions. These machines are essential for producing high-quality, durable, and aesthetically pleasing paver blocks used in various construction projects.

Hydraulic paver block machine specifications encompass a range of key features. The capacity, which determines the number of blocks produced per hour, directly impacts productivity. The molding area size affects the dimensions and shapes of the blocks. Additionally, the power and pressure rating influence the machine's efficiency and performance.

Moreover, it's essential to consider the automation level and control system, as advanced automation ensures precision and ease of operation. The type of molds compatible with the machine allows for versatility in block design. Understanding these specifications empowers buyers to select the ideal hydraulic paver block machine that aligns with their specific project requirements, resulting in cost-effective and successful paving solutions.

Choosing the Right Paver Type: Interlocking vs. Non-interlocking

When it comes to selecting the right paver type for your project, the choice between interlocking and non-interlocking pavers plays a crucial role in determining the overall outcome. Here are some key points to consider for each option:

Interlocking Pavers:

Interlocking pavers are designed to fit tightly together, creating a durable and stable surface.

They offer excellent load-bearing capabilities, making them ideal for driveways, walkways, and high-traffic areas.

The interlocking design provides flexibility, allowing them to withstand ground movement without cracking.

These pavers come in various shapes, colors, and patterns, enabling versatile and visually appealing designs.

Installation is relatively easier due to the interlocking system, reducing labor time and costs.

Repairs are simple, as individual pavers can be replaced without affecting the entire surface.

Non-Interlocking Pavers:

Non-interlocking pavers are more affordable compared to their interlocking counterparts.

They are suitable for light to moderate traffic areas like patios, garden pathways, and decorative landscape elements.

Installation may require more precision and skill as they do not have the interlocking mechanism.

Although repairs are possible, they might be more labor-intensive and could involve replacing larger sections.

Pro Tips for Maintaining Your Paver Block Making Machine

Regular Cleaning: Clean the machine daily to remove any residual concrete and debris that can cause blockages or malfunctions.

Lubrication: Keep all moving parts well-lubricated to reduce friction and prevent wear and tear.

Inspection: Conduct routine inspections to identify and address any signs of wear, damage, or misalignment promptly.

Tighten Bolts: Check and tighten all bolts and nuts regularly to maintain stability and prevent vibrations.

Replace Worn Parts: Replace worn-out parts immediately to prevent further damage and ensure optimal performance.

Calibration: Calibrate the machine regularly to ensure accurate and consistent block dimensions.

Electrical Connections: Inspect and secure electrical connections to prevent electrical issues.

Professional Maintenance: Schedule periodic maintenance by qualified technicians to address complex servicing and extend the machine's lifespan.

Operating Guidelines: Train operators on proper machine operation and safety protocols to prevent mishandling or accidents.

Store in Shelter: Store the machine in a sheltered area to protect it from weather conditions and extend its longevity.

Troubleshooting Hydraulic Paver Block Making Machine

Low Block Quality: Adjust the hydraulic pressure and ensure proper alignment of molds to improve block quality.

Block Disintegration: Check the mix proportions of raw materials and the curing process for better block strength.

Oil Leaks: Inspect hydraulic hoses and connections, repair or replace damaged parts, and refill hydraulic oil as needed.

Excessive Noise/Vibrations: Tighten loose components and bolts, and ensure proper leveling of the machine.

Uneven Block Height: Verify uniform material distribution in the mold and calibrate the machine for consistent block height.

Machine Not Starting: Check power supply, fuses, and safety switches; repair or replace faulty electrical components.

Insufficient Block Production: Clean and maintain the machine regularly, and optimize the production process for efficiency.

Irregular Block Shapes: Inspect mold condition, ensure proper vibration, and adjust mold settings to achieve uniform shapes.

Safety Hazards: Implement strict safety protocols, provide training to operators, and display safety guidelines prominently.

Seek Professional Help: If issues persist, consult experienced technicians or manufacturers for advanced troubleshooting and repairs.

Conclusion

A Comprehensive Guide to Hydraulic Paver Block Making Machine highlights the indispensable role of perfect hydraulic machines in revolutionizing paver block production. The detailed exploration of working principles, types, and maintenance underscores their efficiency and eco-friendly advantages. By embracing these cutting-edge technologies, the construction industry gains a competitive edge in creating durable and visually appealing infrastructure. As Perfect Hydraulic Machines continue to shape the future of paver block manufacturing, their impact on sustainable construction practices remains unparalleled.

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

What is your opinion about the behind the scene for Jimin’s fotopholio?

I don't think it was that much revealing. The photo-folio stands on his own and the behind the scenes do not offer semnificant information. To each question, Jimin offered a vague one line answer or focused on talking about technicalities. It wasn't really about diving into the meaning, but more about the outcome he expects. But, at the same time, given the nature of the concept and how it was been interpreted by some factions of this fandom, in this particular case I would find it understandable and perhaps a better decision to give such answers.

That doesn't mean BTS does not have an actual problem when it comes to verbalizing their thoughts. Personally, I usually expect more from artists, especially people that have been in the industry for so many years and who are not rookies told to repeat the same script. The way members talk when they are asked to divulge more (atp I don't know why they are asked) is too PR-style without actually explaining the thought process. And this is not because it's K-Pop and they have a certain way of talking about their work, because I have listened to other idols talk and they are more than capable of having entire conversations about their ideas. BTS are not doing that and it's very rare for me to listen to them in promotional materials ever say something that adds significant knowledge. They may do that sometimes in interviews (especially Weverse), but it's still far from what can actually be done. Reading and watching interviews on various artists can offer a larger perspective, so I do not like to settle with less.