#coal testing lab

[hydrogentruck]

HYDRA'S BACKSTORY

this took forever to write, enjoy!

(Before the actual backstory, just some of my headcanon stuff to make things...make sense. Humans exist in the StEx world. Outside of work and factory built trains, humans and trains don't really interact much. Parent built trains come child sized, while trains built in factories usually look about late teens/early twenties. Prototypes can be built as either.

Trains are considerably larger than humans, the average height for an adult non-locomotive being 8'5. Engines are much taller on average. Freights tend to be bigger than coaches, but it largerly depends on the kind of car. A double decker passenger car is gonna be bigger than a flatcar, but a coal truck is gonna be bigger than a dining car. Blah blah blah enough about height.

Trainlets aren't built baby sized, usually being around the size of a five year old human kid when first powered on (if we ignore Juniper of course. Sorry baby, you are an enigma appearantly.) Trainlets grow of course, and they have to eat metal to do so. Thin sheet metal can be bought and manually cut up, or you can buy it precut to make it easier to eat. Once they reach full size, they don't have to eat it as much, but trains still need to eat metal once in a while for self-repair systems to work. Without it, they would be in the repair shed over a papercut.)

Hydra was built on September 20th, 2011 by a company called Alstom in Salzgitter, Germany. He's based off a DOT-113C120 tank car.

He was built specifically for hydrogen, and part of a test to see if cryogenic tankers could be built trainlet sized, up to that point they had only been built in factories due to their explosive nature. He was the sixth iteration, with five other failed prototypes before him. Prototypes are typically built a big bigger than most trainlets, or not built as trainlets at all because growth can skew data and mess with delicate parts.

The first big malfunction Hydra had was actually just growing. The researchers never really figured out why, they theorzied it was because he built a little larger than most trainlets and his programming wasn't updated properly before being powered on. But they started growing way too fast. Whether it was overlooked while he was built or simply forgotten, cryogenic tankers like Hydra are much larger compared to other trucks. Instead of growing at a slow, steady pace, they were growing in random bursts, stopping for a day or two, and rapidly growing again. And he was growing a lot. Based on growth patterns, Hydras body was trying to go from 6'1 to 8'9 in six months. you've had growing pains, imagine that times ten, for hours at a time. Also, you're hungry the whole time.

It messed with basically everything, namely their appetite. Starlight bless the other trains in charge of taking care of them, because he was unreasonably ravenous for a month old trainlet. Yes, he bit.

Researchers eventually got it under control, managing to fix their programming error within a month. But being rapidly stretched like that really messed up some of his more delicate components. Paired with his already messy blueprints, it's why they gets so many problems.

For the first few years in the lab, things were....pretty nice actually. Testing was never fun, but the researchers were nice and always gave him books and stuff after, so he started looking forward to it. They'd teach him about what they were fixing and what it did. By the time he was two, he had a pretty clear map of his own anatomy just from that.

Hydra spent most of their time with the researchers, but they did have a "mother." An electric engine named Blue, who was built by the same company. The researchers decided that he needed another actual train in his life to be around regularly...and they also didn't wanna deal with teaching him train stuff. Like how to skate properly. Hydra was probably too attached to Blue for his own good, but she was always nice to him.

When Hydra turned five (about ten physically and mentally, train age is weird because no baby stage.) A new researcher started working at the lab, Dr. Grove. He was not very nice to Hydra, seeing them as more of some scientific marvel than a kid. The other researchers weren't fond of him and his...methods, but management quickly realized that being less "nice" with the experiments (more invasive and destructive testing) got more results quicker, and they needed results. Dr. Grove quickly took over the project, and that's when things started getting bad. Most of the previous researchers were moved to different projects, and before he knew it, Hydra was basically surrounded by unfamiliar people who wanted to know everything about how their body worked, and what made it stop working specifically.

Hydra stopped looking forward to the testing. It was painful, and took hours, sometimes days. The scientists would purposefully make his tank blow just to see what conditions made them more likely to explode, see what extended periods of time with an empty tank did to his system, fatigue testing on his frame, etc. Hydra knows that it was necessary, and that they would have to do it one way or another, but the researchers really could have tried to make it more comfortable. Or at least waited until they were, yknow, older. The researchers barely called them by their name either. Half the time he was called either "603" or just "03."

Hydra started being treated less like a person. He started seeing Blue less and less because he started being scheduled for more and more tests. This quickly took a toll on them, and they started being a lot less energetic and outgoing, being really reclusive and absolutely freaking out if he got touched. If it wasn't those few visits with Blue, Hydra would have been a lot more scarred from the testing.

Six months before the lab closed down, when Hydra was seven (about 12 in human years) Blue was fired from her position. Dr. Grove said she was making Hydra "too emotional and too dependent."

This part Hydra doesn't know, but around this time, someone tipped off corporate about Dr. Grove's treatment of the prototypes. This person was Blue.

An investigation was launched, and not just Dr. Grove was fired, the entire lab was shut down. They had broken many regulations, some that Blue didn't even know about. The oversight of Hydras rapid growth, beginning testing too early, lack of mental care, just to name a few. The news had already gone public, and the parent company didn't want the association anymore. The prototypes the lab had built were either sent off to different labs, or if they were in good enough condition, sent to actual yards with periodic check ups to make sure they remain in working conditon.

Hydra was one of the trains deemed fit to go to an actual yard. Corporate had reached out to a yard looking for new freights, leading them to Momma, who cannot seem to stop adopting stray freights. She agreed to take him, and Hydra was set to be sent off to Wembley. The new yard was in a whole different country of course, and he barely spoke english at the time, so they were rightfully terrified. But at least they didn't have to be at the lab anymore.

After Hydra started living at the yard, he was almost immediately put in therapy for a while, which did help. But even to this day, some stuff from the lab has still stuck with them. One of the bigger things is he's absolutely petrified of needles, they haven't been able to get a shot without having a full blown panic attack in years.

Being anywhere around the back of their neck is total no-no as well. On the back of his neck, just below his hair, Hydra has an extra panel that contains a few ports connected to his main computers, and a button that will quite literally shut down all his systems if pressed. Effectively knocking him out cold until it's pressed again.

Most prototypes have it, and it's removed before they start working for obvious safety reasons. It exists because prototypes need a lot of work and repairs, why waste the money on anesthesia? But corporate was in such a rush to get the lab closed, it was basically forgotten, which means he still has it. Nobody but Momma is aware of it.

The lab was an absolute shitshow, but sometimes Hydra does miss it. He misses not having to worry about the cost of repairs, he misses the old researchers, but most of all he misses Blue. In recent years, they've tried finding her, but so far he's been unsuccessful. Maybe one day though.

[tubbytarchia]

new jim hardcore smp....... 30 days...... watching the vod............ this is so long im so sorry. i cant stop noting every little detail.

members (might miss some. just saying ones that join or are mentioned): jimmy, martyn, bekyamon, sneegsnag, fwhip, mogswamp, joel, sausage, lizzie, oli, "all the life series crew (but none of them responded)", scott, aimsey (jimmy says later theres "about 14 of us")

martyn almost dies immediately i think. he joins and almost instantly starts complaining about a zombie at spawn.

bekyamon DOES die immediately via skeleton. jim does the thing where he goes dead silent.

jimmy revives her after a moment of trying to figure out how to. he got someone to do it for him (i think an off-screen admin. like sonam life series)

he places down a crafting table ONLY to craft sticks then picks it up again. this isnt important i just thought it was funny. he then places it down again 5 seconds later

on the way to find stone hes met by sneeg and martyn in a boat. they all spend the first night together. cute. sneeg gets inside their makeshift cave and immediately goes afk (to talk to his chat i think)

jimmy: two dudes chilling in a dark cave, (places 2 dirt between him and martyn) two blocks apart...

martyn: NOT IN PRIDE MONTH!! (runs around the dirt)

^ they then both do the AYYYYY! thing which i think is cute.. big dogs will always be real. they keep talking about league of legends and i dont know whats happening.

jim and martyn go out at night to get resources. jimmy crashes while mining coal around some gravel and he crashes....... he has the falling block glitch,,, martyn crashed too i think (update: they all have it. i think its caused by mods not installing properly but its probably server side since its everyone? or fwhip messed up since jim said fwhip organised a folder for everyone to install.)

jimmy finds a village! on the way he has a close call with a creeper and he then raids it. he mentions football but then hes like "you dont care do you. no worries" TALK ABOUT YOUR INTERESTS ON YOUR STREAAMMMMM i mean what

chat keeps telling him to kill a golem. he resists for a bit before doing it. "you know what. ive gave in to peer pressure. im going to kill him." he then kills the golem and he goes ooo or yeah for every hit.

lizzie joins and he starts BEGGING her to not die first. "lizzie, lizzie, listen to me, if youre watching the stream still. you CANNOT be the first one to die. lizzie, please. please, please. do not be the first one to die, please. you cant have that title. you cannot have this title." (lizzie then says im gonna live so hard and he laughs. but jimmy what the hell was that about)

lizzie then mentions in chat that theres powdered snow at spawn and jimmys IMMEDIATELY like not my fault. the server did that. ???????????? WHAT IS WRONG WITH HIM LIKE ACTUALLY i need to study him get in my lab boy

chat asks if its gonna be made into videos. he says its only going to be streamed. jimmy please hire someone to edit down your streams. please

jimmy makes it very clear that he wants to survive all 30 days. i believe in him

LIZZIES HERE shes in her empires season 2 dress skin. ?????? she forgot to install all the mods

she then leaves and sausage arrives by yelling DADDY JIM?????? (jimmy then says "first time someones called me daddy! wow!" to which saus goes "LIES. LIES. LIES!!" and jim says "well. you know. we dont talk about what we do in our spare time-" ?!!?!?!!?!?!)

lizzie then rejoins and it makes both of them jump. lizzie explains the skin by saying she likes to use the skins she doesnt wear much in between series. thats so cute i cant do this

sausage says his sos builds were him "holding back". i am scared of him i think

lizzie wants to test if you can still jump off cliffs in boats. she then goes into a ravine (and lands in water so it isnt even a test) and realises that she did just jump into a ravine with a total of 0 resources. she gets out fine :)

they talk about saving the villagers and lizzie tries to. seduce one of them into going inside the house. then sausage tries to seduce the SAME villager.

sausage has a gapple already???? he tries to give it to jimmy but jimmy gives it back.

jim and lizzie talk about joel. jimmy: "i wish i could spend some quality time with him, you know?" lizzie: "yeah me too, me too man" they then start talking about him. like wanting custody over him. like some strange pet. jimmy and lizzie and the weird thing they found on the street. jimmy explicitly refers to joel as "our man" which i think is kind of gay.

jimmy and lizzie and sausage go mining together. this is such a great trio im so happy. they go into one of those shitty little caves and mythical "builder" sausage starts texturing the entrance. someone put him in a creative world its good for his enrichment.

sausage picked the seed :) every biome is close by

lizzie keeps taming cats and im scared she isnt going to stop.

honestly the mining trip is really chill... its just the three of them hanigng out and talking. very fun. sausage meows when hes nervous. lizzie has just found out that hardcore means the server is set to hard. they also all remember that cats scare creepers and theyre having a great time. lizzie has no armour and reaches 1 heart.

sausages texturing is an ongoing bit and its so fucking funny they keep encouraging him. sausage this whole cave needs texturing.

oli wants to know where jimmy is. this gives hey girl i mean they energy and i cant explain it. jimmy says "we" are in a hole atm and oli goes full jealous bf mode on him. he calls him kitten. i cant do this

the gang finds a lush cave and sausages texturing bit gets even funnier. hes so happy about moss. unfortunately theres like a million mobs.

aimsey asks in chat if someone can sleep so jimmy does. he says it was him and aimsey says "YAY!!!!! you are my new favourite" while scott says "youre so hot for that". jimmy does not acknowledge either of them. winning the idgaf war.

sausage combat logs in between a bunch of mobs. lizzie combat logs a moment later. leaving jimmy alone to fight all the mobs (its like a single creeper and skeleton) and jimmy is SO annoyed about it. he'll never forget this.

they both join again but lizzie has to leave :( she goes back to the surface to log out safely

sausage is visibly upset about caving day 1. he yearns to build. he really really wants to build. did you know he wants to build. he wants a starter house. he doesnt want to be in the caves.

they see some gravel and jimmys like be careful. dont touch it cuz of the glitch. sausage then goes wait can i hit it here? and the game IMMEDIATELY crashes. jimmy is devastated. like clutching his head hitting his desk. hes worried hes gonna fall to his death cuz he was placing blocks.

they both rejoin at about the same time. turns out what saus did (i think) is he tried to break a single piece of gravel that he THOUGHT wasnt connected to anything. but it was. it was connected to a lot of things actually. so they both crashed

they start to go back up and they find oli!!! oli starts playing the oli and jim theyre just two guys song. hes actually so jealous boyfriend "explain to me why i have that song ready and youre spending time in a hole with OTHER men by the way!?" he also says kitten again. i cant do this. oli tries to modify the oli and jim song to oli and oli. he chills out quickly then starts playing their talent show song

they go back to the surface and oli starts talking about wanting (armadillo) scutes (for dog armour) and a dog. while oli is talking about dogs jimmy is just. zoomed in on his feet. sausage just says he will give oli 10 gifted subs if he shows his feet on stream. they get on him for being too direct and not being pg. as if they were being perfect little angels. ok oli and jim.

they all start talking over each other about lore and i cant hear anything except jimmy going "IM THE DADDY OF THIS SERVER!" and oli going "NO YOURE MY KITTEN YOURE MY KITTEN YOURE MY KITTEN YOURE MY LITTLE KITTEN MAN"

jimmy leaves to get food. he comes back and briefly passes oli and saus and i just hear oli calling sausage kitten too. i dont know what this new bit is and im too scared to ask.

all three of them go on a little boat ride to find more people. jimmy wrote a sea song yesterday and its really fun and catchy.......

they eventually run into martyn and sneeg. i think a thing about this smp is going to be me not being able to hear anything. theres a minimum of 3 people talking at any given time. the boats end up as jim/martyn, sneeg/oli, and saus. oli changes oli and jim to oli and sneeg.

i genuinely think theres like maybe 2 braincells between them all because as soon as someone says something they all start repeating it

oli and jimmy separate off. theyre looking for some place to live and they realise the spot they want is where scott is. so they make a bit out of trying to move into the area without anyone noticing theyre there. scott tries to talk to them and theyre like heyyyyyyy we didnt notice you here aha. ahaha. for context the area is like. a massive hole in the ground thats not a cave but its just. a pit. scott and aimsey call it the donut jimmy and oli call it the disc.

oli says "has there ever been a disc war" and i was thrown so hard into 2020. they then speak over each other but jimmys like (to scott) YOU FRUSTRATE ME! I AM FRUSTRATED! and oli says that oli/jim are the disc heads. surely nobody is going to mispronounce this. just a couple of disc heads. ok mr pg. their house is the discheads disc den and they keep saying it really fast and i think somethings going to go wrong.

martyn and sausage and sneeg turn up and within like a second olis like "we love riding disc in this house" and saus says "ill ride that disc" i dont like either of them at all. then oli shoos jimmy away to convince sneeg to call it the disc and not a donut (probably to say something not pg). whatever he said it worked cuz by the time jimmys back hes calling it the disc. mog turns up at some point during this too.

jimmy walks off and finds a whole bunch of dogs.... he got one of the new ones. woods wolf? idk its very cute. he goes back to the group and mog gets exiled for calling the hole a donut. jimmy mines for like 5 minutes then ends. :p next stream monday and theres another build and seek video tomorrow

Me and Liau read this ask together a few days ago and all of this OOC is the funniest shit. But also I don't think it'd be bearable for me to watch lol (minimum of 3 people speaking at a time sounds god awful. I'm just not the type of person to be able to watch that without getting really overwhelmed. Sobs) so I lay you extra thanks for updating me!! Also the humor sense is uhh. This is really starting to feel like one of those fan-made Life Series where it's mostly kids whose humor sense is primarily sex jokes. Once again OOC this all gave me a good laugh but oh my god I would not personally be able to get through this

Aughhh him and Lizzie talking about Joel though.... their man... yeah it's gay. Jimmy needs to be adopted into hermitcraft so bad dude these two never stop proclaiming how much they miss each other. End my misery

How dare Sausage and Lizzie combat log and leave Jimmy to fend for himself.... Jimmy should start murdering... also the bit with Sausage hurts my brain noooo all I can think is that miserable Jimmy does just. fuck Sausage I guess. Because he gets little affection from anyone else and Sausage is the only one to actively reach out to him and offer anything of the sort and Jimmy just takes it and has led himself to believe that he likes it this way when he just doesn't have any other options to get the affection he desires but is unable to ask for it from anyone himself. The trauma and all. Ugh I'm sorry Sausage enjoyers I cant with him

And Oli is so weird about him too lmao what are they doing!! But I can accept Oli, he's funny to me. The way he goes to comedic extremes at any inconvenience in his relationship with Jimmy to quickly switch back around is funny to me. He doesn't compare to Sausage. He could do Jimmy some good. The blonde boyfriends have my approval even if Oli is the way he is

I love when Jimmy just proclaims how he's feeling. "THAT FRUSTRATES ME. I AM FRUSTRATED" why is he such a stupid little thing I love him

Mog getting exiled immediately for referring to the hole wrong is really funny. I'm so sorry Mog

[magic-hcs]

✨✨400 followers event!✨✨

Thank you all for the 400 followers! I never expected to get so many of you who enjoy my blog it makes me so very happy! I decided to treat you all to an introductory sheets of my already existing AU Swapfell!

*Searching…..Searching…..Searching…..Sear-AU. Found…*

AU: AY978730800

Category: One of the main AU’s

Risk: Medium level threat

Name: Swapfell Gemini

Entry log:

Status is everything. Connections are everything. Power is everything. If you got none you’ll be fighting for your life on the street, or maybe even end up being thrown in the fighter pit used as entertainment for the highest bidders. There’s not really any solid rules in place, each area has its own Captain and Lieutenant - boss monsters who run the place their way - and its own rules. Each area, except the ruins.

No one goes there, in fear of facing the wrath of the previous King.

Snowdin, a peaceful area of respite compared to the other areas despite it being home to two of the most terrifying monsters of the underground: The Captain - also known as The apathetic Queen’s Martyr - and The LOVE crazed Hound. Don’t bother the youngest skeleton brother or you’ll have double the Bad Time.

Waterfall, a bazaar where everything is found and sold, station to the famous Waterfalls Lieutenant, Muffet. You pick or touch something from her store, you buy it. Don’t anger the water spider.

Hotland, any new invention made by the Royal scientist gets tested out here first. Careful of the stray lasers. If you are in any need for a hitman or to cover up your misdeeds? You go to the Captain - or as everyone calls him; the fire boss.

The Core, the entertainment district. Home to the secret fighter pit, television shows, gossip houses and more. The two stars of the Core are the one in charge. The boisterous Captain and the quiet Lieutenant. Keep a careful eye on the Lieutenant, he, despite his quiet behavior, is the scariest one of the two

New Home, the heart of the underground, the place where the Queen reigns. There’s not a single safe place where you’re hidden from the tyrannical Queen’s eyes.

There’s only one rule Queen Toriel is very draconian in nature with: No harm comes to those in stripes. Children are to be cared for, protected. A fate worse than death hangs above your head for those who commit that heinous crime. But how do you know who’s a child when they don’t wear the stripes?

(Art done by @scrambledmeggys , check her out she’s so amazing and cool! I’m in love with her art!)

Inhabitant RW6370076 = Skeleton = S-1.O.3 = Sans = Razzle

Stats

3400 HP

Former Captain of the Snowdin area

Nicknamed The apathetic Queen’s martyr

Never worn stripes

The first experiment of [REDACTED]

Escaped the lab with [DATA LOST]

Description

165 cm tall/5.5 feet

Purple color magic

Always wears gloves

A scar runs over his nose ridge

Sharp cheekbones

Unusually sharp claws

Personality/info

Cares only for a selective few

Made sure to protect Coal with everything he has, when Mastiff joined Razzle became protective of him too

Always speaks formally yet got a colorful mouth

Workaholic

Wants to be in control of things otherwise he gets stressed out

Clicks non-existent tongue when frustrated

Dubbed as ‘mom’ by his brothers to tease him

Has way too many hobbies

Got a backup plan for a backup plan

The more sincere he is, the worse and more awkward his apologies get

Is blunt and speaks his mind, also known as an ass, but can be very polite when needed

Occupations:

Errand boy (Previously, underground)

Deputy of the Royal guard (Previously, underground)

Right hand man and advisor of the Queen (Previously, underground)

Lawyer (Previously, post surfacing)

Prosecutor (Currently, post surfacing)

Inhabitant PS63811678 = Skeleton = P-1.O.4 = Papyrus = Coal

Stats

1865 HP

Lowest amount of LOVE out of the three brothers

Was forced by Razzle to wear stripes and for longer than necessary

Is the best at healing magic

Second experiment of [REDACTED]

Escaped the lab with [DATA LOST]

Description

180 cm tall/5.10 feet

Golden yellow magic

Always has charcoal smudges staining his phalange tips and face

Two small golden fangs

Looks quite innocent for the world he grew up in

Wears hoodie jackets with graffiti prints

Personality/info

The most emotionally intelligent and available out of the three brothers

Understands Mastiff’s body language frighteningly well

Found the red scarf in the dumps and tried to sew it (messily) before gifting it to Razzle, Razzle always wears it

Always tried to bring home and take care of stray animals he found on the surface (Razzle always finds them eventually and forces Coal to give them to a new home or shelter)

Can forget stuff easily, to compensate he takes a little notepad with him

Used to have a tense relationship with Mastiff when he first joined the family, now they’re almost inseparable

Hates to be left in the dark

Loves memes

Enjoys cold syrup

Likes to sketch with charcoal

Occupations:

Composite sketch artist (Irregular, post surfacing)

Sketch commissions (Irregular, post surfacing)

Animal rescue farm worker (Currently, post surfacing)

Inhabitant PS63811679 = Skeleton = P-2.O.7 = Papyrus = Mastiff

Stats

4570 HP

Has the most LOVE out of the three brothers

Nicknamed: The LOVE crazed Hound

Never worn stripes

Second experiment of [REDACTED]

Escaped the lab alone after pushing [REDACTED] into [REDACTED]

A late bloomer due to malnutrition (heats are irregular and heavy when they hit)

Joined the family much later in life

Description

197 cm tall/6.5 feet

Resting bitch face

Amber color magic

One golden tooth and one chipped tooth

Wears big furry hoodie jacket

Personality/info

Hates liars and people who keep secrets

Has trust issues

Bottles up his feelings

Used to hate Coal, now best brothers and friends

Insecurities about being a lesser copy of Coal

Doesn’t talk often and not a lot, he does it more often around people he trusts and likes

Minimalist

Likes warm syrup

Is a prankster and a tease

Likes to sculpt and woodcutting

Occupations

Bountyhunter (previously, underground)

Vigilante (previously, post surfacing)

Private detective (currently, post surfacing)

✨✨

[manorpunk]

2️⃣

‘Comprador’ refers to an agent of a large multinational corporation whose typical job responsibility is taking a small underdeveloped nation and turning it into a vending machine for a natural resource - oil, coffee, coal, minerals - then getting that nation so dependent on selling those raw materials to that company that they effectively control it.

Unrelatedly, the Global Logistics Network was the single largest anything of 2069.

They weren’t a monopoly, no, no, no. They were… you see, the crowded and fragile system of intercontinental shipping was simply too important to be left in the hands of any single nation. You all saw what happened when the Brits monopolized it, and when the US monopolized it after them. You’ve seen how nations owning major canals turns them into a hive of corruption. Shipping belongs to the world, which means it belongs to the GLN.

They were headquartered in Qingdao, a major city in the Shandong province of China. Don’t be fooled, China fumbled the past few decades as much as everyone else, but every institution needs a head, and every head needs a headquarters, and the headquarters of the Global Logistics Network were located in Qingdao. The complex of skyscrapers that comprised GLNHQ was large and populous enough to form its own city-state, a closed loop of offices, gyms, fabricators, dormitories, labs, shops, copackers, cafeterias, and warehouses. You could spend your whole life there without ever setting foot on the earth itself. Many did.

Such was the Global Logistics Network. Like capitalism rising centuries ago from the sclerotic and shambling remnants of feudalism, the GLN rose from the old ways of hyper-financialized over-leveraged capitalism to create something new, something so new it didn’t even have a name yet. Much like the transition from feudalism to capitalism, things were better overall, but good lord, what a low bar to clear.

Towering above it all at the top floor of the central skyscraper sat Meng “Harold” Jianli, sole co-founder of the GLN. One might wonder how someone could be a ‘sole co-founder,’ and the answer was that the GLN was so powerful and omnipresent that its leader could have called himself a living god for all the power that sat upon his person. He certainly had more power than those who had historically claimed the title of living god.

But Meng “Harold” Jianli was no god, living or otherwise. Despite the vast power seated upon his person, or perhaps because of it,he looked rather disheveled, with a jowly face like splotchy old parchment, a sagging belly, and a crudely functional flat-top of black hair. His suit was slack and rumpled - his weight had a tendency to fluctuate wildly thanks to the stress.

It was stressful, being in charge. Past a certain point, you don’t really get more powerful, you just have more people to babysit and more fires to put out. He had to keep an eye on Novo Karo Bioresearch, or they’d be so excited to show off their new research that they’d start doing eugenics. He had to keep an eye on Vae Victis Engineering, or they’d get so excited testing out their new tech that they’d start a world war. And now, with his hands steepled and his brow furrowed, he had to keep an eye on the vtuber that the American League had elected president.

 He stared at Sunny Roosevelt. Sunny smiled back and gave him a little wave.

“I am willing to work with you, miss Roosevelt. The GLN is willing to work with just about anyone, it’s one of our biggest strengths.” He shifted effortlessly between ‘I’ and ‘we,’ treating the two as synonyms. “The issue is, we are still trying to figure out what your administration actually intends to do.” 

“Hmm.” Sunny put a finger to her chin, pursed her lips, and looked upward. An ellipsis appeared over her head.  “You got a copy of my campaign objectives, right?”

“Are you referring to this?” He held up a single sheet of paper, on which was written ‘make anime real’ in 48-point font and nothing else.

“Yep!”

“And you think this qualifies as a roadmap for your presidency.”

“Personally, I think it’s quite ambitious.”

Harold puttered his lips. “Miss Roosevelt-”

“Please, call me ‘mommy.’”

“Miss Roosevelt, I understand that you are standing on rather shaky ground. The National Board of Directors is being dragged away from the provisional US government days,” he said, which neglected to mention how half of the National Board of Directors were former GLN big names, “and the new state congress acts more like a rehab clinic for celebrity podcasters than a governing body,” he said, which stood just fine without caveats.

“I understand,” Sunny said, nodding and still smiling, “I’m a bimbo who’s in way over her head, so you’re going to unveil the GLN’s big five year plan and tell me to follow it like a good little girl.”

Harold was already in the process of lifting a hefty unlabeled binder, intending to thump it dramatically atop his desk, but the accuracy of Sunny’s comment left him slightly deflated. “I prefer to think of it as an advisory-”

“And then I’ll kiss up to you during our conversations,” Sunny continued, “but stall and drag my feet when it comes to actually implementing anything, and you’ll say,” she loosened her face and dropped her voice, “dammit Sunny, are you trying to play me for a fool?”

“I don’t sound like that. I don’t sound like Richard Nixon,” Harold protested, sounding kind of like Richard Nixon.

“And then I’ll say, it’s not me, it’s the state governors, they just refuse to cooperate. The new congress is one big old boy’s club. Even the Board of Directors is demanding overly-detailed descriptions of everything before they’ll sign off on it, it’s malicious compliance!” Sunny hung her head and threw her hands, wailing, “you set me up to fail, Harold. You set me up to fail, you rat bastard!”

“Are you done?”

Sunny straightened back up. There was that smile again. “Yep. That was fun.”

“In any case, while I understand you are currently something of a figurehead, even figureheads cannot afford to do nothing. Not when a third of the country is still lacking even the barest measures of centralized government.”

“What, you mean the Midwest Autonomous Zone?” A little question mark appeared over Sunny's head. “I mean, yeah, but it’s not like that started with the fall of the old US. Missouri was a dump long before the thirties.”

“Be that as it may-”

“That’s the 2030s, because we’re in the future.”

“Miss Roosevelt.”

“Please, call m-”

“No. Miss Roosevelt, why did you become president if you are so averse to actually presiding?”

Sunny shrugged and let out a huffy little sigh. “Look, most people weren’t exactly begging to have America back. Not even Americans. They don’t want someone with a bold, inspirational vision. Bold, inspirational visions are what start world wars, for George’s sake. I, for one, believe that bench-warming is not just a good idea but a moral imperative.”

“George’s sake?” Harold repeated.

“Saint George Washington. Oh, right, America’s got a brand new religion now, it’s called Founderism. We took the whole Founding Father worship thing and made it an official heresy. Also, Jesus was a small business owner.”

Harold grimaced and considered leaving the former USA to the wolves for a few more decades.

[ahedderick]

Counting down to finals

My son's chemistry teacher seemed to falter after the Thanksgiving break. She told the students that no more lab assignments would be due; they would simply receive 100% for all the rest of the work. F-i-n-e, but suspicious. This sounds to me like a teacher who has belatedly realized that a ridiculously high number of her students are failing, and is trying to cover her ass. She also stopped regularly posting due dates for the lecture assignments (which were all given out in a packet at the beginning of the year), and quizzes for those assignments. I've been uneasy about that.

Sure enough, when Son checked his dashboard yesterday evening, he found NINE assignments, quizzes, lab assignments, and a pre-test are due on MONDAY. Now he generally keeps an eye on his dashboard several days in advance, so nothing 'sneaks up' on him. However, he told me that this MASS of material wasn't posted when he last checked. And, honestly, no matter how far in advance it was posted, it is bonkers to have nine lengthy assignments due in one day for one class.

The university is having major financial troubles, and has responded by cutting classes - because apparently educating the students is their last concern. The wildlife/fisheries department may not be scheduling several of the 300 and 400 level classes required for his major because of "low enrollment."

Ok. FIRST of all. If there weren't so MANY teachers in the bio, chem, and math dept that have completely abandoned their jobs and flunked over half the class in the past couple of years, so students aren't able to get the earlier prerequisites for their major completed, you might not have "low enrollment" in the higher level courses. AND I feel like if a uni offers a degree in Fisheries biology, and then decides at some point to stop offering that major, they have an ethical responsibility to continue offering the classes for those who have gotten to a junior or senior level in the program no matter what.

I am verklempt. I graduated from the uni in 1991. My mother in 1963, and my grandmother in 1921. HER father was one of the coal miners who saved up to create a college (in 1898) that would be available to the rural students in this area. This is . . . personal.

[blazehedgehog]

Okay so you've apologized for choosing the wrong words over the SAGE 2024 showcase trailer, but doesn't that mean that somewhere inside you still think parts of what you said are true? You still came to those conclusions one way or another.

Yes and no.

I would like to open this saying I used to be known as a pretty harsh critic when I started writing about SAGE for TSSZ News. I hurt a lot of feelings but I always had a logic behind what I was saying. Ultimately I figured I was judging people by standards they didn't deserve, and I kind of softened my view.

By that I mean I was judging fangames against more professional standards, and then I realized these were just hobbyists having fun and didn't deserve to be raked over the coals like that. After all, a game you pay for and a game you download for free create two very different expectations.

So I'm going to single someone out here and I'm sorry in advance for doing this, but I saw Sonic Test Labs in the SAGE 2024 showcase video. They've removed Sonic and replaced it with an original character -- a furry wolf wearing jeans, I believe. (It's a rat)

Now, I'm not out here to insult somebody's OC or even their fursona. Something I've been trying to remind people in slamming on the brakes of all of this SAGE hot water over on Twitter is that I think anybody should make anything and be proud of that. I literally just put out a Shadow Generations video 2-3 months ago where I have a long montage of fanart I drew of my Sonic OC, as I talk at length about not running from your past and embracing who you used to be, even if it was cringe. I am not here to tell anyone to stop making things.

But, like, the 90's were full of "mascots with attitude" and really only one or two stuck around, and the most prominent example is Sonic the Hedgehog. Most of these furries were lucky to get a single sequel and then they disappeared off the face of the planet, some only resurfacing ironically.

Sonic the Hedgehog, just as a character design, is kind of a one-in-a-million shot. To be so simple and so iconic and so appealing to so many people... the epitome of lightning in a bottle.

And the indie game space is a very different place than it was when a lot of people were pitching Sabrina to ditch "Lilac the Hedgehog" and make Freedom Planet into an original game she could sell, you know?

So when I see Sonic Test Labs and it's got a new name, it's dropping the Sonic connection and it's starring a fursona it's like, good for you, all the power in the world to you, I hope you succeed, but also, at this point... is this going to be worth the change? I guess I'm not the developer of what is now "Wick3r: Tricks, Keys & Speed", so I can't answer that. They have a lot of talent, though, and Sonic Test Labs was a standout game for me last year, so we'll see.

I am coming at this from my own perspective as a game developer, and I've hit a pretty big streak of bad luck as of late, I feel. I have no more time for the sort of game development I really want to do and I haven't released anything meaningful in years. The last few things I did release, I'm not really proud of anymore.

Let's take OverBite. I genuinely wanted to make OverBite into a real game. I was making steps towards that. Then my whole life got turned upside down, I lost my motivation, and I got caught up in the Youtube game.

The further I get from OverBite, the more I see its flaws. It was a Game Jam game. Most of its levels were constructed in about five hours. I have a fat design document full of too many ideas for the final game that need to be re-thought, paired down and streamlined.

I can't do any of that. I have absolutely no faith that a current version of OverBite would sell anything even remotely meaningfully for me to be worth the time I'd put into expanding (or even outright rewriting) its code, polishing up its visuals, implementing new mechanics, new levels, bosses, etc. That means spending years effectively wasting time I could be spending on my Youtube channel, where my hard work is more directly rewarded.

And it kills me. It makes me want to cry. But there's a cold part of me that says, "Get over it. You can't have your cake and eat it too. You can't do everything. Pick a lane and build that up, you can't be so scattershot anymore."

But I have so many game ideas, and more keep piling up. And even if I tell myself I can't be so scattershot anymore, I still end up working on some of them anyway. Because my heart wants to make video games and my brain says it's not worth it anymore. The market is too crowded, the investment is too large, the gains are too small.

If I put my full weight behind my Youtube channel, I make thousands of dollars a year. Not even five figure numbers, but a non-trivial amount. For Overbite, I made just over a hundred bucks, and most of that was begging for people to help cover the Steam Greenlight fee.

Or, let's say, "Better Bubsy." That Bubsy joke game that stopped being ironic and started being earnest. I work on it for a few weeks every April for the last four or five years. It got to the point where some respected people I know were saying I should pitch it to whoever owned the Bubsy IP. Which at the time was UFO Entertainment. Eventually that changes hands when Atari buys the Bubsy IP from UFO, and the CEO of Atari is out there making an open call for indie devs to submit a Bubsy pitch. This is my chance. Better Bubsy could be a real thing!

I even speak to someone who works directly at Atari! I don't even have to drop it in their pitch inbox! It's getting personally sent up the chain!!!

...

Atari and Limited Run announce a Bubsy remaster pack where they are making their own "select improvements" to the old games. That is effectively confirmation that they did not care about what I was selling. More time wasted.

Forgive me if I'm not very warm to certain ideas right now and I have a cynical, bitter heart towards certain aspects of game development. I am personally in a very conflicted place right now, and it came out in the wrong ways towards people who did not deserve it.

(For those of you who don't know what this is about, this, this, and this twitter thread should clear things up.)

[lunathegalacticwolf]

Watch this animation that I spent hours and almost 2 days on or no more feet

Context: The premise of the AU is that all of the characters were trapped in a lab and experimented on. They were humans (and in Pebble and Coal's case, dogs), but their DNA has been altered, so they aren't humans/dogs anymore and they lost all original memories, so they renamed themselves and Rodger adopted Toodles as his own (and Shrimpo was a teenager at the time, so he was also adopted by him). As I said, they lost all memories, so they don't even know their names. The only part they remember is the first letter, so if you want to guess what Toodles' real name was, feel free to. Toodles is subject 27, the second-to-last one, 28 being Pebble. They were forced to do several tests to figure out their skills. Toodles did pretty well, but she had to rely on Beginner's Luck in order to do it. When the entire group finally figured out how to escape, Toodles' luck ran out and they had to keep running back to rescue her from death. Finn was the main one to do this and he almost died doing so and has a permanent limp. Even thought they live a mostly normal life now, Toodles blames herself for everyone's injuries, and she has failing sight in her right eye. She has PTSD and every time she sees any kind of weapon, she suffers from panic attacks, mental strain, vomiting, nose bleeding, and it's all due to stress and trauma. It hurts everyone to see her like this and they're doing their best to help hee forget, but Toodles knows she'll never forget any of it.

[yourtoradorasextendedwarranty]

You posted videos from PragerU and the Heartland Institute, that fact alone destroys your credibility. I don't know who 'my Babs' is but I stay on anon because I've been in these discussions before and people start sending hateful messages. I've watched your silly videos, you silly boy, they did not prove there is a global hoax going on. Like your man said in the video the question here is how much of an emergency this situation is, not that we don't have a problem. I'm choosing to listen to 'the experts' because I can't take people seriously that think PragerU is a credible source of information on this issue (or any other for that matter). Your map of the countries that signed up to the Paris agreement clearly shows your position in the world. All these countries are in on a hoax/getting hoaxed but the US (the country of alternative facts and tribal politics) is the only one standing up to the cabal, now that the party of Q-anon, Marjorie Taylor Greene and 'the stolen elections' is back in power. The party that has always denied there was ANY climate change. Sounds legit, motherrfucker!

And just like that you prove you're not worth responding to. Just because a video comes from a place you don't like doesn't mean that can't say facts. And Prager himself is actually on the left. But much like the Neo Puritan right you stupid fucks have the same kind of purity test mentality. Always have. Always will. Anyone to the left of STALIN, you around fucks think is far right.

I acknowledge even places like CNN can be correct and about things that don't matter, they tend to be. But about politics they are outright liars. And you just drink that fucking Koolaid. What's funnier still, is every conspiracy the Neo Progressive left has said the right had, has come true. COVID coming from a lab in China? Yup. Masks harming a generation and not actually stopping the spread? Wow right again. Biden being off his rocker? Wow right again.

But you evil fucks do this bullshit where you find the most radical, wild, insane conspiracy online, and posit that as what all right wingers believe. Without fail. However here's the kicker. The people ON those videos were individuals that speak on the topic away from those platforms you seem so quick to criticize.

Also I'll correct one other point. The word Hoax. Climate change isn't a hoax. Most people don't believe it is. However, MOST people know that climate alarmism is a lie. And it's a free position to take to spend money. Something most governments love to do. But it gets better. As several of my mutuals have explained to you people. The Paris Accords don't have any enforcement. It's a "loose agreement" to "do better". Except it's coordinated by WEF types. Because the more scared you are, the easier you are to control.

Because news flash. The world been "ending in 5 years" for the past 70+ years. And China and India are both a part of the Accords. You know who's top polluters in the world? China and India. Who both use a metric shit ton of coal. Which fun fact, has radioactive burn off.

I don't care about this bullshit claim about credibility because so far as I'm concerned Academia has none after the published the James Lindsay papers, and left wing news has less than zero because all they've done is lie, fear monger, and spread intentional division.

So kindly fuck off and bark up another tree. You're a bitch.

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from Canary Media:

Will Payne and Will Clear are all too aware of the skeptics.

But those doubters only fuel the duo’s vision for Southwest Virginia. The former Virginia state energy office bureaucrats turned private-sector consultants have an ambitious plan to repurpose land and backfill local taxes in communities left behind by the coal industry’s decline, and also pioneer new models for powering data centers with local clean energy.

Data Center Ridge is one piece of a nonprofit venture — Energy DELTA Lab — designed to transform 65,000 mostly contiguous acres of mine lands where coal was king for decades into test sites that advance energy innovation. The project has the backing of Republican Gov. Glenn Youngkin, who announced an agreement last November establishing a framework for developing the land.

The first phase involves persuading tech companies to build solar-powered data centers on up to 2,000 acres of the now-defunct Bullitt Mine in Wise County. The facilities would be able to tap into underground mine water to help cool their servers. Eventually, they say, other energy sources such as wind turbines, pumped hydro storage, or small nuclear reactors could be added across the larger property.

“This is a big idea and we need someone who can share that vision,” said Payne, managing partner of Coalfield Strategies LLC. ​“We need developers who believe in ramped-up clean energy.”

Glenn Davis, director of the Virginia Department of Energy, said a couple of key factors are driving the state’s interest in the lab. Many data center companies are exclusively seeking sites where they can access 100% clean energy, and new clean power generation could cushion the grid impact from the state’s booming data center sector.

“Southwest Virginia was the energy capital of the East Coast, and I believe it will be again,” Davis said in an interview. ​“There’s a power void that needs to be filled, and solar is part of that.”

DELTA, shorthand for Discovery, Education, Learning & Technology Accelerator Lab, is just one enterprise Davis is tracking as he coordinates Youngkin’s all-of-the-above energy plan.

Last fall, Youngkin said the intent is to attract private and public dollars to flesh out a portfolio that also draws wind, hydrogen, large-scale batteries, pumped-storage hydropower, and eventually, perhaps, small modular nuclear reactors when and if that nascent technology matures. Any carbon-cutting realized by lab energy projects wouldn’t count toward the landmark Virginia Clean Economy Act because the faraway area is served by a Lexington-based power company, Kentucky Utilities. The VCEA requires only the state’s largest investor-owned generators — Dominion Energy and Appalachian Power — to achieve a carbon-free grid by 2045 and 2050, respectively.

That doesn’t bother Youngkin, Davis said.

“What’s driving the governor’s interest is jobs, businesses, and an improved quality of life,” said Davis, appointed as an agency head in April 2023. ​“We’re excited because the opportunity for growth there is larger than any other in the state.”

Dallas-based Energy Transfer owns the acreage, roughly 100 square miles. The lab is coordinating site development with Wise County officials and the landowner. Some of the acreage is still being mined for metallurgical coal, the type used for steelmaking and other industries. However, much of the property, including the inactive Bullitt Mine, is being reclaimed.

On paper, the dozen or so projects on the drawing board, including Data Center Ridge, could generate 1,600-plus jobs, add 1 gigawatt of new power and induce $8.25 billion in private investments, Payne said. First, however, they have to move beyond the conversation stage.

[sonicasura]

Alright then, btw what I'm about to tell is from a small note book his sister gave before I left my friends house when I went to check on him yesterday. Which is good for I already seen I have forgotten quite a bit more then I remeber about the au.

But anyway on to the stuff shall we?

So for starters lets start with the report that the science department left after the experiment was done. I'll try to be as accorate as I can as my friend warned me that some stuff is either unfinished or not something he really wants to share just yet.

Report 204, date xxx year xxx

Subject: Project Parasitic Hound.

The project has been deemed a failure after loosing all but one of 227 test subjects used for the duration of year xxx to year xxx. With the only remaining living subject having been transfered to an officer of the Hoshina clan for furter study and containment until high command has made a decision on what to do with it.

The following is the description of the test subecjt and what is currently know of it and its abilities.

Subject D-08 is a mixed Golden and Labrador Retriver breed of 5 years age that before the transplant had a whitish golden colour, along with being average in both size and strength. With chocolate eye colour. With being mild if a bit too curious in temperment.

Since after the transplants the coat as since turned black that most would either call coal black or obsidian black with now cyanish coloured eyes that glows when in darker areas. Its face also now sports odd white markings that almost form a painted mask of some sort and two small blunted horns has grown out the top of its head.

It has grown to somewhere between 10% to 30% more in size and hight, along with a similare balance in strenght, endurance, speed and intelligent after various tests was done shortly after the transplant.

Its teeth and claws has also been strengthen as well, enough so that a speical muzzle is to be worn at all times to avoid it biting anyone within its reach. It is to be only taken off when it needs to eat.

Its temperment still remains mild, though it has been noted that it now has become guarded and afraid around humans sporting lab coats. As well as shown a more aggressive side when meeting certain personnel.

The test subject has also gained two abilities of sorts. One is that it is now able to detect other kaijus within a 2 to 5 km raidus around itself. This discovery was only made and been comfirmed when subject reacted rather violently and fearfully when it detected a small invasion of mole type kaijus in the countryside during another test done in the area.

The second is a being able to control electricity. Though not very powerful, the subject is able to control the electricity enough to form a small bubble around itself for protection and hurl small lighting bolt like attakcs at range that will at most stun the traget. Its claws as well is able to be enhanted by said electricity to deliver a more power full attack at close range.

The subject has also shown no further aging as well, as its body seems to have stopped its age shortly after the transplant. More time is need to comfirm this though.

Oof. Poor Kafka definitely wasn't treated well to say the least. This is honestly the type of shit the more unhinged members in the Science Department would do.

[apotheosticdelirium]

I prepared by fasting sunrise to sunset day 1 and 2 with an apple before sunrise on day three. Chaste, steered away from anything that wasn't being focused towards the ritual. Along with the prayer for success, and Absolution during showers.

The morning of I showered in hot water for cleanliness, then in cold with the Absolution prayer. Dressed in the ceremonial black lab coat, I carried my lit lattern to my work room. There was a forboading sense to the air. After washing my face and hands with blessed water. I ground new ink, blessed it, and wrote out the conjurations/characters. My pinkie bled an inordant amount compared to the normal stick that comes from a sugar testing needle that I use for a lancet.

The insense was slow to burn with each bit I put on it. The circle was then opened as instructed with ps.51 taking JSK's advice of being in a prostration position rasing the divination wand for an accusation clause and the evocation wand for a striking clause.

The room felt expectant as I asperge and fumigated the circle with the psalms there was an echoing quality to my voice like it was bouncing inside the circle.

When it came time I called scirilin with his words. The tempature dropped noticeably and when I asked if he was here it felt like static down my spine. I thanked him for his presence and asked that he aid me in calling the spirits for the pact.

Lucifiers conjurations stopped and started through the 7 iterations. No physical sign of presence but it felt like they were listening. I stated I was following through on the bargin by going through this process and asked that he lend me his voice to call his subordinates.

I thanked him and asked him to stay a till the end to sign the pact with the others.

When starting the conjuration of the subordinates the words tasted ill fitting on my tongue. Like I was a priest without faith. After two rounds of this I stopped and listened.

Instead I spoke my own names. I named the titles I am Heir of, the tradition whose tools empower me. I spoke of the trials I've over come through magic, the feats my words have created, and of those spirits who have bound themselves to me. Finally I spoke of the bargain made with with The Emporer and spoke each name of those spirits I wished to call.

Naming them felt like a wave of sound. I named them again, offering alliance, and partnership of services exchanged under the pacts made by others on this current before me. This time naming spirits who have kept their bargains with me before drifting apart.

I named them once more before speaking of the spirits who bound themselves to me and broke their pacts, refusing to name them only referencing the fate that came to them.

A wave of smugness, acceptance and cold came over me after speaking. I left it for a moment looking around to see if anything odd was happening. In memory the room is *much* brighter than it should be at that point considering I had to balance a tea candle in my hand that held the elder wand so I could read the parchament.

After a few minutes with no obvious sign of dissent or assent. I slid the parchment into the eastern corner of the room and set the first character stone on the sigil of scirilin. I asked that if they agree they would mark their sigil in some way so that I could call them again and that once signed or decided against that the leave in peace to their own place just as they've come in peace.

I left the parchment for a bit over 24 hours as I returned to work the next day. On returning to clean things up the parchment has an odd electric air to it. When focusing on the whole rather than the marks it was a bit dizzying. Quite a bit of the incense didn't burn even though the room was still slightly hazy from all the smoke that was let off. Possibly from insense/coals that were a bit old as I don't regularly use them in my practice?

A number of the sigils have interesting marks near them. Ones entire page has patches of almost translucent parts. (They have an amusingly cloud like sigil for context of why thats interesting) These very well could be natural blemishes on the parchment that I didn't notice before but it's interesting none the less.

As requested of the bargain I'm publishing this experience. While I wouldn't mark this evocation as a complete success, it definitely doesn't seem to have failed. I think only a bit of time and a chance to work with the spirits will tell.

[essarairsystems]

Bag Filter Manufacturers: How to Select the Best for Your Industrial Needs

In industries where air quality and filtration efficiency are critical—such as cement production, pharmaceuticals, food processing, and power plants—bag filters play a vital role. These filters trap dust, pollutants, and fine particulates, ensuring compliance with environmental regulations and improving workplace safety.

However, not all bag filters are created equal. The manufacturer you choose determines: ✔ Filtration efficiency – How well the filter captures particles. ✔ Durability – Resistance to wear, heat, and chemical exposure. ✔ Cost-effectiveness – Long-term savings from reduced maintenance and replacements. ✔ Regulatory compliance – Meeting EPA, OSHA, and industry-specific standards.

This guide will help you identify the best bag filter manufacturers by focusing on key selection criteria, industry applications, and emerging trends.

Types of Bag Filters & Their Industrial Uses

Bag filters come in different designs, each suited for specific operational needs:

1. Pulse Jet Bag Filters

How They Work: Use compressed air bursts to clean filter bags.

Best For: Cement plants, steel mills, and coal-fired power plants.

Advantage: High dust-holding capacity with minimal downtime.

2. Reverse Air Bag Filters

How They Work: Clean bags by reversing airflow.

Best For: Low-pressure applications like woodworking and food processing.

Advantage: Gentle cleaning extends bag life.

3. Shaker Bag Filters

How They Work: Mechanically shake dust off the bags.

Best For: Minerals, ceramics, and chemical industries.

Advantage: Simple design, easy maintenance.

4. Liquid Bag Filters

How They Work: Remove contaminants from liquids (oils, chemicals, beverages).

Best For: Pharmaceuticals, wastewater treatment, and food & beverage.

Advantage: High flow rates with fine micron filtration.

Key Factors When Choosing a Bag Filter Manufacturer

1. Industry Expertise & Customization

Look for manufacturers with experience in your sector (e.g., a cement plant has different needs than a pharmaceutical lab).

Custom solutions (material, size, coating) should be available.

2. Filter Media Quality

Common materials: Polyester (standard), Nomex (heat-resistant), PTFE (chemical-resistant).

Ask about nanofiber coatings for higher efficiency.

3. Compliance & Certifications

Ensure the manufacturer meets ISO 9001, EPA, and local emission standards.

Check if they test filters for explosive environments (ATEX certification).

4. After-Sales Support

Do they offer installation guidance, maintenance training, or spare parts?

A reliable manufacturer provides technical support post-purchase.

5. Energy Efficiency & Cost Savings

Low-pressure-drop designs reduce energy consumption.

Longer filter lifespan = fewer replacements and lower costs.

Emerging Trends in Bag Filtration

✔ Smart Filter Monitoring

IoT-enabled sensors track pressure drop, dust load, and bag condition in real time.

✔ Sustainable Materials

Biodegradable and recyclable filter media are gaining traction.

✔ Hybrid Filtration Systems

Combining bag filters with electrostatic precipitators for ultra-fine particle capture.

Final Thoughts: Making the Right Choice

Selecting the right bag filter manufacturer impacts your operational efficiency, compliance, and bottom line. Prioritize: ✅ Industry-specific experience ✅ High-quality filter media ✅ Regulatory compliance ✅ Strong after-sales support

By partnering with a trusted manufacturer, you ensure cleaner air, longer equipment life, and fewer regulatory headaches.

[moleculebars]

Molecule Air Bar: A Revolutionary Dining & Nightlife Experience

In the heart of India’s vibrant nightlife scene, Molecule Air Bar stands as a beacon of innovation and excitement. With its unique blend of molecular gastronomy, captivating ambiance, and exceptional service, Molecule Air Bar offers an unparalleled experience that delights all senses.

A Fusion of Science and Culinary Art

At Molecule Air Bar, dining transcends the ordinary. Inspired by the principles of molecular gastronomy, the chefs craft dishes that are as visually stunning as they are delicious. From the dramatic presentation of Golgappa Shots served in test tubes to the smoky allure of Dragon Smoke Popcorn infused with liquid nitrogen, each dish is a testament to culinary creativity. These innovative offerings not only tantalize the taste buds but also provide a feast for the eyes, making every meal at Molecule Air Bar a memorable event.

Ambiance That Captivates

The ambiance at Molecule Air Bar is a harmonious blend of historical intrigue and modern design. Drawing inspiration from World War II, the interiors feature elements reminiscent of a vintage chemistry lab, complete with molecule-shaped ceiling lights and thematic decor. This distinctive setting creates an immersive environment that transports guests to a different era while maintaining contemporary comfort. Whether you're seated in the cozy pod-like booths or enjoying the open-air terrace, the atmosphere at Molecule Air Bar enhances the overall dining experience.

Signature Cocktails and Beverages

The bar at Molecule Air Bar is renowned for its inventive cocktails and extensive beverage selection. Expert mixologists craft signature drinks like the "Nutty Old Fashioned" and "Secret Potion," blending traditional flavors with modern twists. These concoctions, alongside a curated selection of wines, spirits, and locally brewed beers, ensure that every guest finds the perfect accompaniment to their meal. The emphasis on quality and creativity in the beverage offerings mirrors the culinary excellence that defines Molecule Air Bar.

Culinary Delights for Every Palate

Molecule Air Bar takes pride in offering a diverse menu that caters to a wide range of tastes. From North Indian classics to global favorites, each dish is prepared with precision and flair. Highlights include the Butter Chicken Tart, a modern take on a beloved dish, and the Makhani Chicken Ravioli, which seamlessly blends Indian flavors with Italian technique. Vegetarian options like the Edible Lava Coal and Corn Popcorn Fritters showcase the kitchen's versatility and commitment to innovation. Desserts such as the Gulab Jamun Cheesecake provide a sweet conclusion to an extraordinary meal.

Multiple Locations, Consistent Excellence

With locations in Delhi, Gurgaon, Agra, and beyond, Molecule Air Bar brings its unique brand of dining and entertainment to a broad audience. Each venue maintains the high standards of quality and service that have become synonymous with the Molecule Air Bar name. Whether you're in the bustling streets of Delhi or the historic city of Agra, you can expect the same exceptional experience that defines this esteemed establishment.

Award-Winning Recognition

The excellence of Molecule Air Bar has not gone unnoticed. The establishment has received numerous accolades, including the "Best Lounge Bar" award at Times Nightlife Awards and the "Outstanding Ambience & Design - North" award at ET Hospitality World’s Restaurants & Nightlife Awards. These honors reflect the dedication and passion that drive the team behind Molecule Air Bar to continually exceed expectations.

An Unforgettable Experience Awaits

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[thatzenithnerd]

Zenith: The Second Coming

Chapter 10: Gasping for Air

Monday, April 24, 2006 – 10:45pm

Jack did not turn right and head towards the living quarters. He could not hole himself away while he was still fuming from an argument that he had started, but not won. Instead, he went left and headed down to the nearest staff room that he could find, hoping to stumble upon it empty and filled with usable caffeine so that he didn’t have to sit alone and drink his whiskey neat. That was how he liked it, but it made him feel like an alcoholic.

To his utmost displeasure, Jack found one of the very last people he wanted to see sitting there under the flickering lights of the room. Dr. Edwin Grant was flipping through an extensive case file, and he looked downright miserable. No, Jack thought upon reconsideration, he didn’t look miserable, he looked angry.

And in fact, he was.

He had every intention of settling down in bed and reading Marsha’s file before slipping into a deep, peaceful sleep. As soon as he had opened it up, he realized that it was not going to be a quick and easy affair. It was a heavy file, and it was filled to the brim. This was going to take all night, and he knew that he owed it to the woman to give it his full consideration.

This was her life’s work. Not reinstating the Zenith Program. Not bringing back Captain Zoom. Not finishing what he started back in the day. No, those were all just part of it. Her life’s work was outlawing radiation.

Which is why he was angry. Marsha Holloway had sat down and taken the time to put this entire file together, which featured sizeable reports on each individual member of the Zenith team and developed their physical, psychological, psychophysiological, emotional, and personal strengths and deficits.

Every brain scan was annotated and connected directly to lab and progress reports, there was an analysis written after each and every session she had with the children. She made predictions and suggestions, anything to keep those kids safe from radiation. Personalized training plans that took into consideration Denise’s biology reports. Everything.

He was angry because, out there on the other side of the same coin, was a bitter, cynical man unwilling to do even the bare minimum for the sake of those kids.

Jack Shepard – a once great hero of men – continued to act as though he had no obligation to the four children just because he was here against his will. Because he did not like the circumstances, he was willing to let the new team fall by the wayside. And it infuriated him because that was certainly not the valiant young man that he used to know.

Grant did not know what Larraby’s final verdict regarding radiation was. Deep down, he knew it was never off the table. Marsha had higher hopes than he did, but even hers were obviously dwindling if she felt the need to put this file together. It was a Hail Mary.

Jack nearly left the room, but Dr. Grant gave him a discerning look that held his attention.

“I think it’s time we had a conversation, Jack,” the old man uttered seriously, evoking a roll of Jack’s eyes from the doorway.

He may not have had the energy for it, but he was certainly in the mood for antagonism, so he shut the door behind him and slumped himself down into a seat rather unceremoniously across from Dr. Grant – ready to be raked across a fresh set of coals as if he wasn’t still simmering from the first one.

Grant had been close to the entire team back in the day. He was an up-and-coming microbiologist with an interest in the Special Projects’ experimental science division, making a name for himself, and young enough to get along well with the team. He may not have done much when it came to going to bat for them in the face of the military team that wanted to start experimenting with radiation without letting him test the chemicals first, but he had gotten to know them rather well.

He maintained loyalty to Jack due to their past connection, and wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. But the truth of the matter was that it had been over twenty years since they had had any contact with each other, and clearly much had changed.

Marsha came aboard the Zenith Project and built a respectable reputation for herself around the base ten years ago, allowing the two of them to form a strong professional bond, and delve into a close friendship as well. Not to mention the connection that he inevitably felt for her having been engaged to his only nephew in the early nineties.

Grant knew things about Marsha and her life that he knew nobody else was privy to, and he held a rather biased opinion that she deserved nothing but pleasantries from here on out. The fact that she was able to remain a positive, kind, generous, spirited woman through it all was miraculous to him, and he admired the way that she always did what was in the best interest for others. This was especially apparent in the way that she supported the children. It was a testament to her humanity.

And ever since Jack came back, he watched the two of them butt heads brutally. In fact, he had been watching Jack tear Marsha down ever since they met, when all she wanted to do was build him up. Now, that woman had become like somewhat of a daughter to him, and he wasn’t going to stand for Jack’s unnecessary behaviour.

Jack cast his arms out rebelliously, and the two of them were practically transported back in time. There sat the rambunctious teenage boy who struggled with authority figures trying to tell him what to do, and the tired scientist just doing his best to keep fires from being set around the facility. The glorified babysitter.

“We no longer have the luxury of making time for childish hostility and pointless grudges,” Grant began, peering at Jack from behind his wire-rimmed glasses.

His own research could not tell him much about this anomaly that they were tracking, even if he had his own theories and scientific guesses. There was no doubt that it was Concussion, returning to the scene of the crime to finish what he started. But Grant was struggling to even track the anomaly, let alone discern its abilities. He knew that they were out of time, and that was the most important card on the table.

“Pointless?” Jack arched an eyebrow as he tested the waters. “You of all people are going to sit there and tell me that my own reservations are pointless?”

“What exactly are you going to do about it, then? If the grudge isn’t pointless, how are you going to change anything?” A rhetorical silence fell upon the space. “Because it certainly doesn’t look like you’re going to use the grudge to do whatever it takes to prevent the same thing from happening to the next Zenith Team.”

Jack couldn’t say much in his own defense. Anything he tried to iterate would only be a lie.

“I know you think that your hostility and resistance is going to really show me and Larraby and atone for what happened in the past,” Grant shook his head angrily. “But it’s only affecting those that don’t deserve your bitterness.”

He watched the younger man open his mouth with the intention of arguing, but Grant was not done yet.

“Larraby doesn’t give a damn about your feelings. But the children? You’re preventing them from feeling as though they have a safe and secure leader.” He leaned back in his seat, but the seriousness of his words persisted. “Not to mention throwing away their entire chance of success during what could only be a terribly uncertain time for them. And Miss Holloway–”

Jack grimaced. “Don’t bring her into this,” he waved Grant away, sick of thinking about that particular woman tonight.

“I think it would be irresponsible of us not to bring her into this,” Grant said, with a dark edge to his voice.

Jack felt his blood run cold for reasons that he could not pinpoint. It was the tone of voice and the eeriness of the statement that triggered his instincts and set off alarms in his head.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you should think long and hard about what you’re willing to sacrifice all for the sake of your selfish façade.”

Jack narrowed his eyes as Grant spoke, unsure whether or not he wanted the man to elaborate.

“All she’s been trying to do is open your eyes to your current reality, and everything that’s on the line right now.” Grant took his glasses off his face and tossed them down on the table before him, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “You know what she sees in you, and it…it’s almost like you enjoy snuffing that out.”

Jack sighed defensively. He didn’t want to have to be painted as the bad guy just because he was unwilling to be the hero, but certain roles suited him better than others.

“She does it to herself,” he explained sternly. “If she looks at me and sees anything other than someone who wants nothing to do with any of this, that’s not my fault.”

Grant peered down at the folder and his face distorted as he thought. Jack didn’t know what he was working on, but he noticed some pictures of the children alongside some brain scans and documents and figured that the research had Marsha’s name all over it. In fact, yes, he saw her signature at the bottom of a lab report.

The older man realized that if he wanted his words to be taken into any consideration at all, he was going to have to approach this from a different angle. Jack was in hiding at the moment. His truest feelings and emotions were buried beneath layers and layers of nearly impenetrable defenses. Maybe he would just have to cut to the chase and get real.

“You may think that we’re all just different people now, after so many years,” Grant began, almost casually as he folded his hands into his lap. “But I know you. Like it or not. I’ve known you since you were a boy.”

Jack bit his tongue as he had no rebuttal for an argument that had not yet been made.

“Your strength has always come from doing the right thing for the sake of others.”

Grant may have always been a bit of a bumbling oaf throughout the busy days at the base, often trampled beneath Kristoff or Larraby’s heavy boot or lost among his own incoherent scientific babbling. But he was a research scientist – he knew a thing or two about educated observation and theory.

And Dr. Grant did not like to see what had become of such a promising young man. A villain in his own story who used to be the closest thing that America would ever have to a real-life Superman. While he was not under the pretense that he might be able to talk any sense into the stubborn ex-hero, Grant could certainly mourn the force and drive that he had lost. That he refused to find despite it still being in reach.

“Keeping people safe, showing them what a true hero looks like, being a leader of men,” Grant droned on, “how you managed to turn all of that on its head, I’ll never know.”

Now, Jack was done sitting back and taking it. He could not handle the blame being shifted to him and his own decisions, when this place made him who he is today.

“Sure, you do, Grant,” he quipped cynically. “You people caused it.”

When there came nothing but silence from the scientist sitting before him, Jack took the liberty of furthering his frustrations.

“Your own military greed killed my team, and then…” he swallowed bitterly once, hardening his face. “None of it mattered.”

“That’s when it should have mattered the most.”

“It didn’t matter then, it doesn’t matter now.”

“You’re feeling a change, though,” Grant noted, and it took Jack a minute to realize what he meant.

He was referring to the way that he was slowly but surely coming around to the kids and putting more effort into their training. He was humouring them, at the very least.

“You can’t deny that.”

Jack lowered his eyebrows and shook his head. “You don’t know what the hell I feel.”

“Maybe not,” Grant shrugged. “But I know that you can’t control the fact that you feed off of paving the way for people. Doing the right thing for them, having them see you as a hero. Time can’t change that.”

“Haven’t I proven pretty clearly that I want nothing more than for people to stop thinking of me that way?” Jack expressed his disbelief.

He could not understand why a smart man like Grant would think that he still wanted to be seen as a hero.

“You’ve tried to. You might’ve even convinced yourself,” Grant nodded, sipping on a coffee that no longer looked even remotely warm. “But you can’t stop everyone. As much as you might think you can.”

“Stop everyone from what?” Jack snapped, impatient now.

“From getting in,” Grant stated calmly.

There was no getting around it, even Jack realized that now.

“You may think that you’ve blocked everyone out, that there’s no chance anyone could sneak past all those frivolous defenses of yours.”

“But?”

“But we both know who’s well on her way there.”

Jack took in a sharp breath, attempting to regulate himself before he spoke without thinking. He had not realized how much of a touchy subject that woman had become for him, and he did not want to know why.

“Did I not just finish telling you to leave her out of it?”

Dr. Grant gave a heavy sigh and folded the file closed, pushing himself up out of his chair. It was late, he had an early morning tomorrow, and he now felt the innate need to present Marsha’s findings to Larraby at some point. He had to do his part. She couldn’t be the only one fighting for those kids.

“It’s not a bad thing, Jack,” Grant continued as he gathered his things. “And you can’t help it.”

As the old man passed, he patted his hand on Jack’s shoulder.

“It’s a very powerful thing, after all.”

Unable to resist, Jack gritted his teeth and turned in his chair, catching the scientist before he left the room.

“What is?” He demanded.

Dr. Grant paused in the doorframe and pivoted to look back at the younger man.

“When someone sees you as the person you wish you were.”

11:05p.m.

Fifteen minutes later, and Jack was ready to tear his hair out.

He didn’t know where to go. The staff rooms clearly were not safe, he couldn’t go back to the lounge for fear that Marsha might return, he didn’t want to be confined to his room yet, so he found himself in the old locker room. At the back, was his old office.

They’d given him the little closet and called it an office as a means to convince him of becoming the commander of the Zenith Team, back in the day. He mainly used to just hang out in here with his old team to get out of training or other responsibilities. And for the most part, it appeared as though the little space had gone untouched.

The bulletin board off to the side was still riddled with old film photographs, keepsakes, badges, everything that him and his original team had collected, just as he had left it. There were a few pictures like this hung up outside in the locker room, but not as extensive as this collection. It was for that very reason that Jack had avoided this office until now, knowing that he wasn’t ready to come literally face to face with the ghosts of his past.

The team that he had let down. The team that he had lost. Their old initiation photographs, some of his favourite comic book covers, some tabloid articles trying to figure out the group dynamics and the alter egos, and so many pictures. Him and Connor, Marksman and Daravia planting kisses on cheeks in a photobooth, Ace posing like a model, his entire past was up there on the board, for him to take in and lose all over again.

Then again, he realized, he hadn’t really lost it. Because here it all was. Every photo evoked a memory, a good one, at that. He could still hear their laughter, feel a friendly hug wrapped around his waist, he could remember it all, so how could he truly believe that he had lost any of it? Unfortunately, as he maintained the memories, he also cultivated the guilt.

He hadn’t been prepared for the new cork board, nailed to the wall just to the right of the original one. This one was emptier, prepared for new photographs and relics, new memories. But there were a few photographs developed from around the base.

Cindy in one of her costumes, Tucker giving a peace sign to the camera, Summer and Dylan flirting in the lounge, a rare moment of him and Marsha laughing together in the observation booth. There was one of Summer and Tucker holding up massive bowls of ice cream sundaes, one of Cindy sitting on Marsha’s lap in the lounge, of him and Dylan slacking off during a training session, even one of him and Marsha taken from afar on the first day they met. She was in the green dress fiddling nervously with her hands as she smiled at him in his very own shop.

The picture’s existence should have creeped him out, but he was not surprised that they had been documenting every moment of his return to the facility. The more he stared at it, the more he was glad that it existed.

As he took in the fresh faces of all the people who were counting on him, he felt his resolve practically go up in flames. Cindy was just a child, who saw him as a reluctant father figure. Tucker was navigating what was already a tumultuous time during pre-adolescence, and he needed someone to go to for advice on many things, including the development of his powers. Dylan needed guidance, Summer needed a practical ear to bounce her ideas and thoughts off of, and the two of them needed someone to keep their young, romantic heads out of the clouds.

And then there was Marsha. Jack did not have the capacity to try and dissect the pictures that he saw of her. That look in her eyes whenever she looked at him now proven and captured on film. He did not have the space in his heart or life for that. But he could see the love that she had for those children. In the pictures, she didn’t look like a teacher or even a babysitter. She looked like a mother. And Jack had to admit that she needed a partner in this endeavour.

She couldn’t keep being the only person vouching for the children, especially not if shit ever hit the fan the way that he was anticipating. She needed someone with the past experience of leading and training a team to work proactively with her extensive research and her big heart. He could be the logical head of the team, and she could be the heart and soul. She needed him to balance her out.

Jack knew that he couldn’t keep villainizing her the way that he had been – especially tonight. He got along with her, believe it or not, and rather liked her. They would make a perfect team. He had always known that – so had everyone else – but he had been unwilling to admit to that. If he admitted it, he might actually have to prove it. And as incapable of taking her on in his life as he was, Jack knew that getting any closer to that woman would only give him something else to lose.

The photos on the wall began to come alive and mesh together, and that was when Jack’s thoughts got lost. This entire place needed a hero. The children needed one to look up to, Marsha needed one to support her as she tried to train the kids, Larraby needed one to keep him in check. They all needed a hero, and Marsha had been right before, he was the only one that they had. Who was he to stand in the way of the success and safety of four young children? He was better than that, wasn’t he?

His mind was a mess, and he didn’t know whether or not he was going to be able to sort anything out tonight. He sat there for hours trying to map out his feelings. What was he willing to acquire? What was he willing to risk? How much of himself and his plans were he willing to sacrifice for the greater good? How much of the hero still existed in him, and how much of that hero would he need to use?

Finally, Jack decided to go back to his quarters and try not to think about it anymore. He felt as though he was on the verge of giving in to something that could only mean disaster for him. Something that went against every single reservation that he entered Area 52 with. Something that compromised everything that he had become.

12:52am

A few hallways down, Marsha had been pacing the carpeted floor of her own quarters.

Her conversation with Jack earlier had left her with mixed feelings. The fact that he sought her out looking for another argument would have been a positive discretion had it not all gone up in flames. Him looking for an argument meant that he wanted to talk about it. He already knew that she was right, he just wanted to hear her say it again. Wanting to fight meant that he was still open to change.

But then disaster hit. They got too personal, he started to attack her, he brought up her own shortcomings and threw them in her face. And as tough as she was, Marsha felt those accusations. No, the observations. He wasn’t accusing her of having an empty life and no family, he was reminding her. And it did sting. Because Jack had been absolutely right.

She wanted to fight about the kids. About the program that Jack was sabotaging and the lives that he was risking. About the people that he was letting down with his arrogantly apathetic bitter ways. That was what mattered most. But he took her arguments and turned them on their head. He suddenly peered at her personal life and her intentions with an analytical eye. And then…

Marsha shook her head as she tried to sort out what had happened. They fought, then they left the room. But there was more to it than that. Before they left the room, what was that? All she knew was that suddenly her back was up against the wall. He hadn’t put her there, but he had given her no real choice. And as harsh and threatening as it was, there was something so intimate about it.

She tiled her head upwards and there he was, staring down at her with that look in his eyes that she could not decipher for the life of her. It was intense, it was tumultuous, it was unreserved, but it was so angry. As though he was feeling something real and utterly furious about it. Actually, she had hit the nail on the had with that theory.

Marsha hardly knew what to make of the fact that just before they broke apart for the night, they both suffered whatever mental lapse that had them staring down at one another’s lips. That was surely a mistake. Brought on by dim lighting, a late hour, and high tension. The intimacy was an accident due to their proximity. Because when Jack came to and snapped himself out of it, Marsha saw an image of disgust, anger, and suspicion on her face that she couldn’t shake from her thoughts.

He had never looked at her like that before and now she knew that she’d done it. She had poked and prodded and fought too much. Jack was on the verge of a breakthrough, and he might just throw caution to the wind and help the children, but he was also on the verge of utterly hating her. She was doing it all for his own sake, but he would never be able to see that. All he was going to remember about her was that she was the one who pestered him night after night. The one who brought up all the things he was trying to forget and practically threw them in her face. The one who was so relentless that he eventually grew to hate her.

Her current turmoil was twofold. Marsha was willing to do whatever it took to get through to Jack, even if he hated her when all was said and done. But he was her hero. Even if he had defied all her expectations and that facade had died, she still did not want her lifelong hero despising her.

But it was more than that, now. Forget the hero, she liked the man. Really liked him. The growing attraction within her was against her will, though she really should have seen it coming. And she knew that once she got through to him and Jack let himself be the man that he really was inside, she was going to want to be by his side to witness it all. Instead, he would hate her so much that she would be forced to the sidelines.

She just hadn’t been expecting this. When she was told that Captain Zoom was going to come back and train the new team, she assumed that those children would be in the best possible hands. She thought that even she could relax knowing that Jack would know just what to do with the program. Knowing that he would be the good in the face of evil and make all the right calls. She had not been prepared to meet somebody so morally grey. She was not prepared to learn that the comic books had projected the image of heroic young man when in reality, Captain Zoom had always been a rebellious troublemaker who didn’t always do the right thing.

He'd been a bully. He’d gone to jail. He was a borderline alcoholic. He was rude. He made bad choices, he defied authority, he couldn’t seem to love, he pushed people away. And he had always relatively been that way. Even back when things were good, and he had a team that he loved leading. This hero did not always make the right choice.

But Marsha didn’t care. Because she had spent the last seven days learning that the idea of a hero that lived in her head was incorrect. Learning that heroes made bad decisions, and that they could be rude. She had learned that heroes were just people. And she no longer really even believed in Captain Zoom.

Now, when she thought of that name, she considered it a professional military title. She saw a face on a poster or a name on a comic book. But when she thought of Jack Shepard, she thought of a hero. In disguise, perhaps, and certainly reluctant. But she had come to realize that even the most ordinary of men could be heroes to the right people.

And it turned out, she didn’t need him to be a hero at all. She just needed him to be the leader that those children needed. She didn’t need him to save the world, to be the picture of morality, to make heroic speeches, to change things. She just needed him to rise to the occasion as the person that he was. Because she liked the person that he was.

Against all odds. The dirty mouth, the vulgar sense of humour, the careless style, the arrogance, the bitterness, the teasing. The arguing, the personal attacks, the clashing, the differences in opinions and approaches. Everything that she should have hated about him, she liked. And that had nothing to do with him being a hero. She just liked him.

She was falling in love with him. Marsha had fallen in love with the hero years ago. Back when she was a lost, lonely girl. A middle child with a family that did not understand her. An orphan with no friends and no dollar to her name. A young girl in a bad situation who needed to hold on to something hopeful. She fell in love with the idea of him.

But then that idea was swept away by the real man behind the super-suit. And as she got to know Jack Shepard – somebody that should not have turned her head – she came to realize that she was learning to love him. And this realization came on the same night that she also realized he was learning to hate her.

Marsha continued to pace the floor, balling her fists up at her sides. Now, she was faced with a decision. With this new realization, did she let up? Did she stop fighting him and let herself be pleasant? Did she do what she could to express her feelings and become a woman that he might also learn to love? Now that she could admit she wanted it, that future became so attractive. She wanted him, and she knew that he could want her if she just stopped being so unpleasant.

Or did she persist for the sake of the children? Did she shove her feelings aside, push them down and bottle them up within her and just grit her teeth to get this job done? Knowing how close to getting through to Jack she was, she knew that if she just kept fighting, she could push him to be the man that those kids needed. Of course, it meant throwing away any chance of being with him, because he was inevitably going to hate her.

As much as her mind debated over the decision, Marsha had already made her choice. She did so as soon as she met those kids. Maybe even earlier. She was always going to do what was best for them, even if it meant her own destruction. Still, she could mourn her unrequited feelings.

And as the night droned on and the rest of the facility slept, Marsha could not help but think about how quickly life can change. Eight days ago, she did not know any of them. Not the kids, not Jack. Eight days ago, she did not feel like a mother. Eight days ago, she did not have this heartache inside of her. Eight days later, it felt like this was all she had ever known.

And the realization that she was falling in love with him didn’t feel the way that it did in the past. Marsha was a lover of romance and an open book – she had been in love many times. And it always felt the same – that’s how she could pinpoint the feeling. Butterflies, a warmth within her, sheer happiness. It felt like her heart was rising up inside of her.

Now, this realization was a sinking one. Her heart sank. Her limbs felt heavy. Her mind clouded. Yes, she had experienced the butterflies and the nervousness all week long, but she had missed it. She’d missed the telltale signs because she had been so busy with other things. And now there was a rock in her stomach.

That’s when the panic hit her.

She knew she had been unwillingly attracted to him. She knew that she liked him the same way a schoolgirl might like the boy on the football team. She knew that it was a crush. But now she knew that if she was not already head over heels in love with him, she was well on her way there. And now was not a good time for that. Especially with her latest decision to allow him to hate her.

It was one thing to fall for the charming superhero, lovestruck by his desire to save the world. But that hero didn’t exist. It was another thing entirely to fall in love with the rough-around-the-edges mechanic with hardly any redeemable qualities. The one who was destined to hate her.

1:05am

Jack had been pacing.

He was tired. Exhausted, really. But sleep was not on his mind, nor was it in the cards. Not tonight. Not after the fight with Marsha that led to the conversation with Grant. Not after spending too long staring at the dead eyes of his old team and comparing them to the new kids in his charge. Not while he just knew that they were all living on borrowed time, and he just couldn’t seem to swallow his fears and prepare for that.

He tried. He had showered and cleaned his teeth. Donned a white tank top and sat on the edge of his bed as though he might will himself to crawl in and lose the world to his subconscious. Something had him ripping out of bed, tugging on a pair of pants, and pacing.

Splashing cold water on his face didn’t work. Two swigs of a whiskey nightcap didn’t work. Turning on the television didn’t work. Eventually, he went back to the bathroom to try another round of cold water, but instead found himself gripping the edge of the sink staring at a face that he hardly recognized in the mirror.

He had gotten old. The lines around his mouth, eyes, and on his forehead did not let him deny this. He looked just as tired as he was. Just as weathered and traumatized. The light in his eyes had died. He would need to shave tomorrow. He was too old for any of this. Too old to be doing it all over again.

Who did he think he was stepping back into the game and trying to lead a team? Those kids could run circles around him. Speaking of kids, he was too old to be having them. Not only that, but he was too old for whatever games him and Marsha were playing. The juvenile teasing, the bickering, the intense moments that he wished might last forever. He was too old for love, if that’s what was coming his way. If that’s what he saw in her eyes but was unwilling to name. Too old.

That’s when he heard the knocking.

Muffled from where he stood in the bathroom, Jack didn’t think anything of it. This place was full of clanking and shuffling throughout the night. But when he stepped out of the bathroom, he realized that there was a rather frantic knocking at his door.

In his eight days here, nobody had knocked on that door. Not even Cindy who just threw the door open and walked on in the night that she decided to rip Jack’s couch from the wall and sleep there.

The knock itself at one in the morning on a Monday night was not a good sign. The frantic element of the pounding did nothing to reassure him. Something terrible had happened. The imminent threat was here, and they were all unprepared. Someone was here to drag him down to the old radiation chambers and try to bring his powers back. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good, and Jack’s blood was running cold as he walked coolly from the bathroom to door.

The knocking persisted and Jack grew angry. He knew that shit was going to hit the fan and get real one of these days, he hadn’t expected it to be tonight. Before even knowing what the big deal was, he was angry for having to be here to deal with it at all. This was not the life that he wanted to live.

Finally, he threw the door open and the one responsible for all the noise was sent stumbling forwards slightly, surprised to suddenly find her rapping board swung away from her.

Jack was surprised to see Marsha. He was expected officials, maybe a member of his team. Grant, perhaps. Maybe she was the one that they’d sent to do the dirty work. No, he had to take in the state of her.

Still in her work clothes from earlier but no glasses. A small dark cardigan wrapped around her in lieu of the lab coat. High heels missing in exchange for a pair of flats. Her hair was down around her shoulders, looking windswept as though she had run here. And she was trembling as though it was cold.

She wasn’t here on official business, otherwise she would be more put together. She’d have a clipboard and a lab coat, at least. Jack’s heart began to race as he tried to maintain a stony, suspicious exterior. Maybe she knew something. Maybe she found something out and had run here in the middle of the night to warn him. Maybe it was go time. That would align with the particular look in her eyes making her seem like a deer caught in headlights.

Whatever it was, it was bad. It would have to be for Marsha to come running to him after their vile argument earlier. He wondered if he needed to put his boots on. Was Larraby and his soldiers on their way right at this moment? Where were the kids? What was the plan?

Jack had certainly not expected it to be a personal visit.

“What?” He demanded harshly, trying to remain stoic even if she was about to deliver life changing news.

Jack realized that he might still be a little sour from the last time they had spoken.

“I–” Marsha began, but her breath hitched in her throat, and she had to swallow her feelings in order to speak.

She looked away from Jack as she shook her head and wrung out her hands.

“God,” she tried again, but no proper words were coming out of her frustrated mouth. “I can’t think,” she was muttering now, angry at herself.

Jack narrowed his eyes. He hadn’t seen her like this before. She had been high strung and worried earlier today. He knew that she was anxious if she’d dropped off an anti-radiation file was Dr. Grant. But she had still been professional. Even while they argued. Now, she was frenzied and rather desperate looking.

And he knew three things, in this moment. Firstly, that he had no interest in dealing with a hysterical woman. He didn’t know the first thing about calming somebody down, and he wished that she would just snap herself out of it and spit it out.

Secondly, he also had no interest in whatever she was about to tell him. There was an emergency, and she was going to make it his problem – something he had not asked for. Something that he foresaw this whole time, hence the apathy.

Lastly, he did not want her in his quarters. If she came inside, they would be crashing through the last wall that he had standing. And in this case, that wall represented physical proximity. She’d already destroyed the others. This woman existed only in professional settings. The Training Centre, conference rooms, the staff rooms, the cafeteria, even the lounge, but that was it. Not in his room. Besides, she’d leave a trail of that wretchedly intoxicating perfume with her when she left, just to torment him.

As desperate as he was to keep her away from him and out of this intimate space, Jack suddenly found himself sighing sharply. He took an offensive look out down the hallway to ensure that she had not been followed, and took her by the arm to pull her into his room, shutting the door behind her. This isn’t what you want, Jack promised himself. But hell, it’s precisely how he felt.

Turning back to her with an expectantly impatient look on his face, Jack cast his arms out to the sides, waiting for an explanation.

“I–” Marsha tried again, knowing that she couldn’t just burst in without saying anything.

Jack swore he heard her voice crack, but there were no tears in her eyes as she brought her hands up to grip at the necklace she was waring, taking a step backwards and averting her eyes.

Lowering his eyebrows, he wondered if he had been wrong. Maybe it wasn’t Larraby or radiation, but something was wrong. Something that affected her personally. Maybe she was in some kind of trouble, or maybe she had done something. Maybe she needed help, and he was the only one she could think of to go to.

“I don’t want you to hate me,” Marsha finally said with urgency, as though if she didn’t let the words tumble out of her all at once, they might never leave her lips.

Confused for a moment, Jack let out an involuntary breath of relief when he inevitably realized that there was no immediate danger. There was no army on its way, no heavy-handed general making plans tonight, and she was not hurt.

Once the relief washed away, Jack felt his lips part in surprise as he furrowed his brow, unsure how to deal with whatever was coming next. She was not in physical danger, nor was he. The threat was emotional, and that was far more dangerous where he was concerned.

Jack had to wonder if she was going to confess something to him that he couldn’t deal with at the moment. He wondered if this was like a moment from a movie where feelings come out in a panic. He hoped not, but he was also almost sickly excited by the potential.

In all his years, he had never had that moment with a woman. His back and forth with Alex had been emotionally charged and frustrating, but when it came time to make the final move, it was not dramatic like this. And since her, of course, Jack avoided real romance at all costs. He was at a loss.

Shaking his head, Jack attempted to gather his thoughts as he pieced her words together. Well after midnight after an entire day of bickering, and now Marsha had been pounding on his door looking like she’d just seen a ghost. But she was only here to express her frantic worry for their personal relationship. It was ridiculous, he thought to himself. It was exhilarating. The blood was pounding in his ears.

“Hate you?” He reiterated, wondering if he had heard her wrong.

Jack kept his distance as he lingered but he door but glanced between Marsha’s eyes in an attempt to find some clarity. Still, she struggled to look at him properly.

“What,” he began, stuttering slightly due to the confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Marsha swallowed and mustered up some courage. “I’m not blind, Jack,” she continued in a tense, panicked voice.

Before his very eyes, she transformed into some kind of feral cat, unsure of her next move, as she began to pace the floor in front of him. A mad scientist trying to solve an impossible equation. Someone on the verge of a breakthrough, missing the most vital piece of information. A woman who had every fact except the one that mattered.

“I know…” she tried again, shaking her head. “I know that we don’t get along, and I know that’s my fault,” Marsha couldn’t seem to stop pacing. “I know that I do it to myself by…by chasing the same arguments all the time,” she swallowed. “But, I just…I–”

“Marsha,” Jack interrupted as it all began to come together, “it’s midnight.”

He was not interested in a personal call. Not interested that his argument had wounded her and now she was looking for an apology. He was the wrong person to approach if she was in search of some reassurance. He was tired and it was late, and he was still mad at her for reasons that he wouldn’t be able to produce if he was asked in this moment.

“I know,” she whispered in response, finally looking up at him as her feet stilled. “I just…” She broke eye contact, losing her nerve. “I don’t know.”

Upon noticing the pathetic little shiver that she gave before pulling the cardigan tighter around her, something inside of him snapped. He was only pretending to be mad at her because it was safer. But he was not heartless.

He took a step closer to her and told himself that it was only because he did not want to have to strain to hear her.

“I don’t hate you,” he shook his head, lowering his brows as confusion still lingered.

It was supposed to be comforting, but Marsha looked up at him as though he was kidding himself and only she knew the truth. “You will,” she said. “If we go on like this. If I don’t just leave you alone and stop pushing for…” her words were jumping around and trailing off, all at once. “And I know you’ll just tell me to stop, then, if I’m so worried, but I can’t! I can’t, and I don’t think you understand that.”

He wished that he could get a coherent sentence out of her. Jack watched as she paced a bit, spoke with her hands, widened her eyes, tried to communicate with someone who did not speak the foreign language on her tongue. He wanted to tell her to relax, to sit down and quit pacing, to take a breath, but he also didn’t want her sitting on his bed.

“I can’t,” she continued, working off her last thought. “Because if I do then nothing will change, you’ll never…” Marsha couldn’t say the words that she wanted to say. “And all of this will have been for nothing!”

“All of what?” Finally, he found a suitable question.

“This!” Marsha threw her arms out around her as if to gesture at the very environment. “The, the arguing, the fighting, the bickering!” She shook her head, and maybe Jack was finally starting to catch on to the source of her turmoil. “All I’m trying to do is–”

Almost a real piece of information, and Marsha had choked on her words. Jack wanted to grab her by the shoulders, look her in the eyes, and demand that she just say what she really meant. He shouldn’t have. He shouldn’t have wanted to know, because he knew that he couldn’t do anything with it. But he wanted to hear it.

Marsha gathered herself and when Jack watched her grit her teeth and chase away the emotion in her voice, he finally recognized her as the woman that he worked with. The unwavering, persistent, relentless woman.

“I would rather have you hate me than have to see you go on living the bitter, empty life that you force yourself to live,” she said simply, finally spitting out her point.

It was less articulate than she would have liked, it was a little too personal for Jack’s liking, but it was the truth. Unblemished, unfiltered, and so very necessary.

And Jack was beginning to understand. He was aware that whoever he was in her mind was important to her, even if she had successfully divided the real him from his superhero persona. She could leave behind her expectations of a hero and still be left with the desire that Jack work with her properly to keep those kids safe.

He had to give her credit for immediately abandoning her preconceived notions and not treating him like a hero, despite the fact that he knew he still existed as one in her head. Her castle crumbled and she was building it from the ground up. All she was asking for was a little help with the heavy lifting.

He also understood that the more they argued, the larger the wedge between them grew. She was never asking for an enemy. All she wanted was an ally. And she was doing what she thought she had to do in order to create that ally, only to stoke the fire of a villain in the making.

Blinking, Jack realized what she saw. She had only ever fought for him, hadn’t she? To make his life better, to help him move on, to encourage him to bond with the children. She wanted to help him, but she also wanted to gain his respect and fondness. Unfortunately, those two things no longer seemed mutually exclusive.

It was insufferably selfless of her – he realized in this moment. Even if he hated her for the rest of his life, Marsha was willing to push for what was best for him. That was a tough pill for him to swallow. He didn’t deserve even half a second of her consideration. He felt evil.

“I–” He began, unsure what to say but knowing that words were a necessity.

Jack shut his mouth before he could continue. His intentions were to reassure her from afar, keep things professional, and send her on her way. Let her be embarrassed about it all tomorrow morning. Chalk it up to a late night and high tension.

But that was bullshit.

He couldn’t go on pretending that he had no feelings, pretending that he did not care about anybody around him. Pretending that he was not deeply affected by the children. By being back here. By everything that the woman in front of him had just said. By everything that she had been saying since the day they met.

Jack sighed and dropped the act. He stepped closer to her with a shake of his head. The very head that he managed to shut off for one second so that he could speak from the heart for the first time in two decades.

“Honey, I couldn’t hate you if I wanted to,” he finally said, taking her lightly by the arm for the sheer purpose of putting a stop to her fidgeting.

Jack could tell by the look on her face that she had not been expecting that. Anything but, actually. He hadn’t expected it either.

With every intention of keeping things professional, of doing the bare minimum and casting her aside, Jack had let a tender sentence slip from his mouth. Pet name and all.

Marsha had been expecting coldness. But she had forgotten that often when she expected something from him, she got the opposite. The hand on her arm, the tone of his voice, the name that he had called her, none of it was cold whatsoever. In fact, it all lit a raging fire within her. She had never felt the roar of a wildfire like this before, blossoming somewhere in her chest. It was brand-new, and it left her struggling to breathe.

He was lying, she told herself. He was taking pity on her, trying to shut her up, just being nice. That was the only explanation. Still, the fire burned on.

Jack saw the doubt in her eyes and felt the edges of his lips tugging into a thin smile. “You can irritate the hell out of me,” he admitted. “You drive me up the wall for more reasons than I think you know. But I can’t…I…”

Jack stopped himself short when the ridiculousness of her original statement hit him. Hate her? Her? Anything but. Couldn’t she see that?

“I hate a lot of things,” he stared at her as he spoke so that she wouldn’t miss a word of it. “You are not one of them.”

He had to say more. He shouldn’t. He didn’t want to. But the words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them – desperate to show this woman just how wrong she was.

“I’m scared shitless to be back here. You know that better than anyone,” he confessed in a candid voice. “But you…” he blinked and looked away from her.

He had to go on, but couldn’t say this next part while looking her in the eyes. Baby steps.

“You make me want to do better,” he said firmly, surprised that his conscience would even let him say the words.

Finally, he looked back at her. Marsha’s eyes were wide, hanging on every word he said. She searched his face for signs of deceit.

“For you,” he continued. “For the kids, you just…you do.”

Jack dropped her arm and began to pace, taking a page out of her book. He scratched uncomfortably at the back of his neck and wished this was easier for him.

“Worries the hell out of me,” he added. “Because that’s not part of my plan, here.”

Stopping his pacing, Jack gave her a glance, wondering where she was at with all this. He was farther from her now, and though he knew it was safer, it felt colder. There was more to be said. More danger to stare in the face of.

“Not to mention,” he gestured between the two of them. “You know.”

Marsha did not know. Jack was obviously referring to whatever was going on between the two of them that went beyond their professional relationship, but Marsha was convinced that her feelings were unrequited. That his flirting was due to boredom and the desire to taunt her. She had no idea what he was talking about.

“What?” She whispered almost silently, narrowing her eyes in an attempt to understand what he was alluding to.

Jack blinked and swallowed his frustrations. He tried to say something, but fell short in favour of a sharp sigh. Oblivious woman, he thought to himself.

“Don’t make me say it,” he said in a low, uncertain voice. “’Cause I don’t know what to call it.”

Call what? Why was he suddenly so awkward? It’s almost like he meant–

“Oh,” Marsha realized with a jolt.

Her lips parted and her eyes blinked away some obvious surprise as she realized that against all odds, against every one of her thoughts, Jack was referring to them as if there was something to refer to at all.

The wildfire within her found a patch of dry grass and lit up like a lightshow.

Standing before each other – miles beyond their respective comfort zones – neither knew what to say. Had they just blown right through the line that they walked? Had their tightrope snapped?

Marsha felt something in her stomach besides fire and it felt like nausea. This felt like the most important realization she would ever come it, and it threatened to steal away every one of her sound senses. The moment that she had waited for all her life – coming in such an unexpected way.

Jack Shepard. The bitter man who disavowed marriage, turned his nose up at romance, hated the idea of commitment. The man who had an eye for tall, blonde, supermodel looking woman who were willing to expect nothing. And here he was, looking at her.

“Yeah,” Jack tossed his hand out as though he was accusing her of being responsible for all of it. “Was that…” he stuttered. “I mean,” Jack didn’t know how to say all of this without really saying it. “Was that part of your plan?”

Marsha held her breath realizing that it was all true. She was a source of consternation within Jack. And not because he hated her, not because she annoyed him, but because she tempted him away from his life of not caring. Up until now, the very thought of that was unthinkable and downright stupid.

But she saw it in his eyes. She saw it in the lines on his face. She heard it in the tension in his voice. In the way that he held himself.

After blinking away her shock, Marsha finally spoke. “My plan went out the window a week ago,” she admitted in a small voice.

Unintentionally, her and Jack shifted closer but crossed his arms in exchange for the proximity. They were too far apart for this intimate of a conversation, even if they both ultimately understood that they could talk about it like some kind of secret code, but they couldn’t do anything about it. Not right now.

With an unreadable expression on his face, Jack stared at her until it twisted sourly, and he narrowed his eyes. Her original statement came back to him.

“You really thought I could hate you?” He asked in a tense whisper, as if it was the most important question he was ever going to pose.

Marsha met his eyes fleetingly but could not speak. Instead, she gave a slight shrug of her shoulders and tried to stop her breathing from growing rapid. He was close again. Almost as close as he had been earlier in the lounge before everything fell apart.

Letting out a breath, Jack took himself by surprise when he uncrossed his arms and suddenly felt his left hand on her waist. He hadn’t meant to put it there. He hadn’t any control over it. It found that little nook like a magnet. And as surprised as he was, Marsha was floored.

“You’re even more blind than I thought,” he muttered under his breath before he could even realize that he was speaking.

His voice tickled Marsha’s lips, and she was forced to realize that they were closer than she thought. Her entire body tingled. She worried that she might lose consciousness.

The touch of his hand on her waist was sending electric shocks up and down her body, which did nothing to aid her flustered mind after all the words that he had said. Lips parting slightly, Marsha felt as though she could do nothing but stare up into his eyes.

Her mind was typically calm. She knew right from wrong, she knew her plans, and she knew what to do in any given situation. Her thoughts did not often race – unless someone like Jack was unsettling her – and she tried to remain calm in serious situations. But right now, her head was jumbled as thoughts bounced around uncontrollably.

And while Jack usually suffered from a mind riddled with tumultuous thoughts and contradictions that he could not turn off for the life of him, he heard nothing right now. An uncharacteristic lull as he found himself in a peacefully terrifying state of acceptance. No thoughts. No contradictions. Just peace. As he stared at her, it was as if he had finally uncovered the answer to any question he ever had. There was no longer any confusion.

Right now, nothing else mattered. Not the Zenith Project, not Gamma-13, not his inner turmoil, not the fact that he did not know what tomorrow brought, not even the children. Not his old team, not his missing brother, not the heart that pined for the future he could have had with his dead girlfriend. Nothing mattered but the woman with sapphire eyes who looked at him like he hung the moon.

Jack could not stop himself from reaching up with his free hand to take her tiny face in his rough, weathered hand. Instantly, Marsha released a subtle sigh as the tension in her body vanished all through the validation of his touch. She hadn’t realized just how badly she had longed to see him like this. Staring at her with meaning behind his eyes, holding her tenderly, on the precipice of something monumental.

The energy between their lips was electrified with tension as Jack felt himself drawing her impossibly closer, nearly giving in to the desire that he had been fighting since the moment he met her.

As soon as she reciprocated, he froze. Her small hand came to rest on the middle of his upper chest, and the touch brought Jack back to reality. He wanted to stay that way forever – in exquisite anticipation – feeling her hand on his body. But they were not prepared for the consequences of such an action. If he kissed her now, would they be able to stop themselves from falling into bed?

He wanted that more than anything, but he also respected her too much to do that to her. He couldn’t take her to bed and then pretend nothing happened. But he couldn’t throw away every one of his hangups and just let himself be with her. Not someone like her. He couldn’t do that to do. So, he couldn’t kiss her.

She seemed to know what he was thinking, and the nerves in her stomach balled twisted in on themselves when she realized that they were going to have to stop themselves before it was too late. No matter how badly she wanted him to take her fully into his arms and kiss all her worries away – and she was sure that he could.

Forcing himself, Jack moved his hand off her cheek and tangled his fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck, sighing sharply and clenching his eyes shut momentarily. It felt counterintuitive. To realize something monumental about the person before you only to take a step backwards and let them walk away.

Marsha let out a tense sigh of her own and shut her eyes as she tilted her head downwards until it was resting on his chin. She wasn’t sure if it was the sheer placement or if he had kissed her right there where her hair met her forehead, but either way it only stoked that fire inside of her.

What were they thinking? To make that particular move now, in the middle of all the chaos, was just stupid. They did not need to tack that on top of everything else that they were dealing with, and they both knew it. It was irresponsible.

Still, she came to realize something that brought her a bout of hope. If she was just another woman that Jack found himself physically attracted to and nothing more, she would already be naked in his bed. Likely even earlier, but especially tonight. The fact that he restrained himself against what he clearly wanted and what she would not say no to, told her that perhaps there was more to his affections than the mere physical aspect. She understood why that would scare him, for it terrified her all the same.

“I’m sorry for barging in,” Marsha whispered, still resting her head against him but beginning to sound more like the woman that Jack knew as the fog cleared between them and they once again could see clearly.

He shook his head and untangled his hand from her hair, moving it from her shoulder down her arm as they pulled apart.

“Don’t be,” he stated, feeling instantly colder once she backed away from him.

How he longed for her to stay. Hell, he didn’t even necessarily want to be physical with her at the moment – though that would be nice. He really just wanted to get her in his bed so that he could hold her in his arms and fall asleep to the soft sound of her breathing. He wanted to wake up to her wearing one of his t-shirts, to see her messy hair sprawled across his pillow, to wake her up by pressing a kiss to her temple.

Those were the most dangerous thoughts he could have at the moment. The thoughts he promised he would never let himself have about another woman. The thoughts that he was beginning to realize weren’t something he could just decide to have or to not have.

Marsha nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I’d better go,” she stated surely, as if she was convincing herself of such a fact.

A look of understanding passed between the two of them. “See you in the morning,” Jack said, his voice still dripping with a serious kind of tension.

And just like that, she had disappeared. Slipped right through his fingers and out his bedroom door.

[yonderh2]

Hydrogen Production Electrolysis: Powering a Greener Future from the Ground Up

In a world racing to reduce carbon emissions and pivot to cleaner energy sources, the spotlight has turned toward hydrogen—specifically, how we can produce it efficiently and sustainably. Among the different methods available, hydrogen production electrolysis stands tall as one of the most promising technologies. It's not just a chemical reaction; it's a gateway to a cleaner, more resilient energy future.

But how does it work? Why is it so important? And more importantly, how does it impact real people, industries, and the planet? Let's take a deep dive, not from a lab bench, but through a lens that connects science, society, and sustainability.

What Is Hydrogen Production Electrolysis?

At its simplest, electrolysis is the process of splitting water (H₂O) into its basic elements—hydrogen (H₂) and oxygen (O₂)—using electricity. This is done through an electrolyzer, a device that passes an electric current through water, breaking the molecular bonds.

When powered by renewable energy sources like solar or wind, the hydrogen produced is referred to as “green hydrogen.” That’s where the magic lies—clean energy in, clean fuel out. No fossil fuels, no carbon emissions, no planetary guilt.

Why Hydrogen? Why Now?

Hydrogen isn’t new. It’s the most abundant element in the universe and has been used industrially for over a century. What’s new is the urgency.

As climate change becomes a defining issue of our time, nations are committing to net-zero goals. Industries that are hard to electrify—like steel production, shipping, aviation, and long-haul transport—are in desperate need of a fuel that’s powerful, portable, and pollution-free.

And that’s where hydrogen production electrolysis comes into play.

A Shift in the Energy Paradigm

Historically, most hydrogen has been produced from natural gas through a process called steam methane reforming (SMR), which emits significant amounts of CO₂. While cheaper, this “grey hydrogen” undermines the environmental promise of hydrogen as a clean fuel.

Now, the paradigm is shifting. With renewable energy prices plummeting and electrolyzer technology becoming more efficient, hydrogen production electrolysis is quickly becoming viable on a global scale. Countries like Germany, Japan, and Australia are investing billions into green hydrogen infrastructure.

Real-World Applications and Impact

Electrolytic hydrogen isn’t just for futuristic pilot projects—it’s already being used across sectors:

Transport: Hydrogen fuel cell vehicles are ideal for long-distance transport and public transit where battery weight and charging times are limiting.

Industry: Green hydrogen is being tested to replace coke in steelmaking, reducing one of the world’s most carbon-intensive processes.

Power Storage: Hydrogen acts as a clean energy storage medium. Excess renewable energy can be used to produce hydrogen during low-demand periods and then reconverted to electricity when needed.

Every one of these applications brings us closer to a circular, clean-energy economy—one that benefits both the climate and the communities that depend on industry.

The Human Side of Electrolysis

Here’s the thing: technology alone isn’t the hero in our climate story. People are.

Whether it's engineers designing more efficient electrolyzers, city planners envisioning hydrogen-fueled bus fleets, or families breathing cleaner air thanks to reduced industrial emissions—hydrogen production electrolysis impacts us all. It represents an alignment between technological progress and social responsibility.

Imagine a town once powered by coal, now hosting a hydrogen plant fueled by the sun. Jobs are not lost—they’re transformed. Children grow up near green facilities instead of smokestacks. This isn't science fiction—it’s beginning to happen.

Challenges on the Path

Of course, no revolution comes without resistance. Hydrogen production electrolysis faces hurdles:

Cost: Electrolyzers and green electricity still come at a premium, although economies of scale are rapidly improving this.

Infrastructure: We need hydrogen pipelines, storage facilities, and distribution networks, which require time and investment.

Public Awareness: Hydrogen safety, efficiency, and viability are still misunderstood by the general public, slowing adoption.

But these challenges are surmountable. With international collaboration, policy support, and public-private partnerships, the groundwork for a global hydrogen economy is already being laid.

Innovations Driving Change

Technology is evolving fast. Advances in solid oxide and proton exchange membrane (PEM) electrolyzers are improving efficiency and lowering costs. Meanwhile, AI-driven energy management systems are optimizing the timing and scale of hydrogen production.

Startups are experimenting with modular electrolyzer units, which could make hydrogen viable even in rural areas. And researchers are exploring seawater electrolysis, expanding the range of water sources that can be used.

All these innovations are making hydrogen production electrolysis not only more affordable but more adaptable to different regions and use cases.

Why You Should Care

Whether you’re an investor, a business owner, a policymaker, or just someone who wants a healthier planet for your kids—the rise of hydrogen matters to you. This isn’t just about switching fuels. It’s about rethinking how we power our world and who benefits from that transition.

When we support green hydrogen, we’re saying yes to cleaner skies, more resilient economies, and energy independence. We’re saying no to pollution, to climate instability, and to leaving future generations with a mess we could’ve prevented.

Looking Forward

The world is on the brink of an energy transformation. As we build new power systems, hydrogen will be one of the pillars. And at the core of this is hydrogen production electrolysis—a process that is simple in theory, but profound in its potential.

By investing in this technology, by educating ourselves, and by supporting clean-energy policies, we can ensure that the next generation inherits not just better technology—but a better world.

[sanctobin]

Is a hibachi grill worth it?

Meet the compact, high-heat tabletop grill that impressed our expert testers.

Anyone who's watched Masterchef in recent years will have heard of a hibachi grill. Hibachis are known for their ability to deliver searing heat while infusing food with a charcoal flavour. 

These traditional Japanese high-heat grills can cook and infuse meat, seafood and vegetables with a smoky charcoal flavour.

But do they hold their own as a portable grilling unit? Or are they another kitchen (or outdoor) fad you could do without? Our expert testers have given dozens of barbecues a real grilling over the years to find the best performers, so we picked up Amazon's Japanese Korean Ceramic Hibachi BBQ Table Grill to put it to the test in our kitchen lab.

What is a hibachi grill?

Taken from the Japanese translation of 'fire bowl', a hibachi features a grill plate that sits on top of a ceramic (or sometimes wooden) bowl that's filled with burning charcoal. As the food being cooked is very close to the heat source, it allows it to be infused with the smokiness of the charcoal. 

This hibachi grill is compact, portable, easy to store and requires no assembly. It comes with a pair of tongs and a stand to keep the unit off the table or ground which helps to minimise heat transfer, but apart from the tongs, no other accessories are provided. 

The hibachi pot is ceramic with a stainless steel grill plate, and the double air vent at the front can be easily opened or closed to help control the heat. You also need to manually light the charcoal, which requires a chimney starter, fire starters and matches to light the coals.

How does the hibachi grill perform?

We put the hibachi grill through the same performance tests we use for standard barbecues: cooking sausages, steak and marinated chicken wings. We also ran an additional two tests, cooking salmon (skin on) and shish kebabs.

Overall, performance is excellent – all the meat and fish our testers cooked was super tender and juicy. 

"While the hibachi provides an intense heat from the charcoal, it still cooks the food gently so that the food stays moist and succulent"

While the hibachi provides an intense heat from the charcoal, it still cooks the food gently so that the food stays moist and succulent. We also found cooking times to be similar to a regular barbecue. 

A hibachi grill is traditionally used for thinner cuts/small cubes and slices of meat, but you're still able to cook thicker cuts like steak as long as the meat size and shape is suitable for the charcoal cavity area. Thicker cuts may also require extended cooking time, and more frequent turning of the food will prevent it from burning. If you're cooking fish, it would be a good idea to brush the fish with oil to keep it from sticking to the grill plate.

How easy is it to use?

Overall, our testers found this hibachi grill easy to use. The portable unit is small and easy to store, doesn't require any assembly, and while it's fairly heavy, it's easy to move around. That being said, it does have thin metal side handles which can be uncomfortable to hold. 

The cooking surface is a full chargrill plate and you'll need to manually light the charcoal that sits beneath it. The coals take around 30 minutes to heat before placing in the coal cavity of the hibachi. If you need to add more charcoal, you'll need to lift the chargrill plate, which can be awkward if food is already on the grill. 

What is binchotan?

Binchotan is a Japanese charcoal that brings out the natural flavour of the food you're grilling. It's chemical-free and is a 100% natural hardwood barbecue fuel. When grilling is over and the charcoal has been carefully extinguished, binchotan can be reused (generally several times).

The recommended charcoal to use for the hibachi grill is white binchotan, and we were able to buy 4kg for $29.99 (which works out to be $7.50 per kg). This is the best type of charcoal for this type of grilling due to the close proximity to the grill plate, and the fact that it burns low and slow, which allows for better heat control.

"When grilling is over and the charcoal has been carefully extinguished, binchotan can be reused"

You may be able to save money using regular charcoal, but it'll produce a stronger smoky flavour in your food that might become overpowering. Regular charcoal may also produce more smoke and may make it harder to control the heat when cooking. With binchotan, we found that the meat was still juicy after cooking. 

Are hibachi grills easy to clean?

This one was!

The clay pot doesn't need cleaning at all and while the grill plate may need soaking, it can easily fit into a kitchen sink or dishwasher. Once the hibachi has cooled, the brick plates can be lifted out to help remove any ash.

When it's not being used, store the hibachi inside or well covered outdoors so it isn't exposed to the elements.

Can you use the hibachi grill indoors?

The hibachi is compact in size and can be used on a benchtop, so it may be tempting to use it inside, but we don't recommend this.

The charcoal poses a potential fire hazard. In some circumstances it can also produce a considerable amount of smoke (especially if you're not using binchotan charcoal), which can present health risks. The one we tested specifies that it's designed for outdoor use only and is not to be operated indoors or in an enclosed area. Adequate ventilation is essential. 

How much does a hibachi grill cost?

Hibachi grills range in price from around $60 all the way up to $800, depending on the size and brand. However, they all work on the same principle of using a ceramic unit with a cavity for the charcoal and a stainless steel grill rack.

For $96 this hibachi grill impressed our testers – you just have to factor in the ongoing cost of buying binchotan.

CHOICE verdict

The Japanese Korean Ceramic Hibachi BBQ Table Grill from Amazon impressed our expert testers. The meat and fish we cooked on it were moist and succulent, and the cooking times were similar to a regular barbecue. For those short on space, hibachis are a small, portable and easy to store option, and the one we tested wasn’t a chore to clean – the grill plate, which may need a soak, can easily fit in your kitchen sink or dishwasher. You'll need to factor in the additional cost of using binchotan, the recommended charcoal (we paid $29.99 for 4kg), but you won't be disappointed with the results. 

Price: $96 Contact: amazon.com.au

By Choice Australia