#decanting machine

[kaushikengworks]

What Is a Bitumen Decanting Machine and How Does It Work?

In the realm of modern road construction, efficiency and quality go hand in hand. One crucial element behind seamless asphalt production is the availability of liquid bitumen. Since bitumen is commonly transported in solid or semi-solid form packed in drums, it must be melted and prepared before use. This is where a bitumen decanting machine plays a transformative role. Let’s explore what these machines are, how they work, and why they’re indispensable for infrastructure projects worldwide.

What Is a Bitumen Decanting Machine?

A bitumen decanting machine is a specialized piece of equipment designed to extract and melt bitumen from drums for use in hot mix asphalt production. These machines offer a reliable method to heat bitumen efficiently while preserving its quality, ensuring a constant supply of liquid bitumen on-site.

Whether it’s for highways, city roads, or airport runways, these machines allow contractors to work faster and more economically by automating a process that would otherwise be time-consuming and hazardous.

Types of Bitumen Melting Machines

Bitumen decanters come in a variety of configurations to suit different project sizes and operational needs:

Drum Decanting Units: Designed for melting bitumen from 150–200 kg steel drums. Ideal for medium-scale projects.

Continuous Type Melters: Enable uninterrupted melting and transfer of bitumen, best suited for high-volume operations.

Bag Melting Units: Used where bitumen is packed in plastic bags instead of steel drums.

Containerized Bitumen Decanters: Modular units that are easy to transport and install, perfect for mobile or remote sites.

Each variant has its pros and is selected based on project requirements like daily bitumen consumption, site conditions, and transport logistics.

The Role of Bitumen Drums in Road Construction

Bitumen is a viscous, temperature-sensitive material used as a binder in asphalt. Transporting and storing it in liquid form is not practical due to its high temperature requirements. Hence, manufacturers package bitumen in drums, which are then delivered to construction sites.

Before this bitumen can be used, it must be melted and filtered to remove any impurities. Bitumen decanting machines perform this task efficiently, ensuring the liquid form is available for immediate use in hot mix plants.

How Does a Bitumen Decanting Machine Work?

The bitumen decanting process typically involves the following steps:

Drum Loading: Drums are loaded into the chamber using hydraulic or manual systems.

Heating: The machine uses a thermal oil-based heating system or direct flame burners to gradually heat the drums.

Melting: As the bitumen inside heats up, it turns into a liquid and flows into a storage tank below.

Filtering: The liquid bitumen passes through mesh filters to remove any drum residue or contaminants.

Transfer: A high-temperature pump transfers the clean bitumen to mixing plants or insulated storage tanks.

The closed-loop heating mechanism ensures minimal energy loss and maintains the bitumen’s physical and chemical properties.

Key Components of a Bitumen Decanting System

A standard bitumen decanting system includes the following components:

Heating Chamber: Encloses the drums for uniform heat distribution.

Burner or Thermal Oil Heater: Provides consistent and controlled heat.

Loading Mechanism: Lifts and places drums into the chamber.

Bitumen Tank: Collects the melted bitumen.

Filtration System: Filters out impurities during decanting.

High-Temperature Pump: Transfers the bitumen to storage or mixing units.

Control Panel: Manages temperature, timing, and safety mechanisms.

Together, these components make the decanting process smooth, efficient, and safe for on-site personnel.

Benefits of Using a Bitumen Decanting Machine

Using a bitumen decanting machine provides numerous operational and financial advantages:

Time Efficiency: Speeds up the bitumen preparation process.

Reduced Labor: Automates drum handling and heating.

Consistent Quality: Maintains bitumen properties by using controlled heat.

Improved Safety: Minimizes direct contact with hot materials.

Energy Efficiency: Optimized heating systems reduce fuel consumption.

On-Demand Supply: Keeps a ready-to-use stock of liquid bitumen for uninterrupted operations.

Real-World Applications of Bitumen Decanting Machines

Bitumen decanters are widely used across multiple infrastructure projects, including:

National highways and expressways

Municipal road development

Airport runway construction

Bridge deck coating and waterproofing

Asphalt patching and repair jobs

These machines have proven to be game-changers, especially in remote locations where continuous bitumen supply is critical.

Choosing the Right Bitumen Decanter Manufacturer

Selecting the right equipment manufacturer is as important as choosing the machine itself. A reliable bitumen decanting system ensures minimal downtime, optimum performance, and longer machine life.

Consider these factors while choosing a manufacturer:

Industry experience and expertise

Compliance with international standards

Customization and scalability

After-sales service and spare parts availability

Client testimonials and project references

Manufacturer Evaluation Checklist:

✅ Years of experience in road construction machinery ✅ ISO and CE certifications ✅ Energy-efficient and eco-friendly designs ✅ Automation and user-friendly controls ✅ Training and installation support ✅ Availability of spare parts ✅ Responsive customer service

Use this checklist to assess and compare potential suppliers before making an investment.

Upgrade Your Road Projects with the Right Bitumen Decanting Machine

In today’s fast-paced infrastructure landscape, downtime and inefficiency can significantly affect project timelines and budgets. A bitumen decanting machine is not just an accessory—it’s a necessity for any serious road construction operation. Whether you manage small municipal roads or large-scale highway developments, this equipment can elevate your project's quality, pace, and profitability.

Kaushik Engineering Works offers premium-quality bitumen decanters designed for durability, efficiency, and ease of use. Upgrade your fleet with reliable machinery trusted by contractors around the globe.

Read More: https://www.kaushikengineeringworks.com/bitumen-decanting-machine-how-it-works/

[atlastechnologies]

What is a Bitumen Drum Decanter and How Does It Work?

What is a bitumen drum decanter? Understand how bitumen decanter and bitumen drum melting units work, and explore the various types of bitumen decanters for road construction applications.

[atlasequiptech]

Asphalt melting equipment manufacturers - Atlas Equipments

Our bitumen decanting machines are engineered with user-friendliness in mind. We understand the importance of simplicity in operation, ensuring that our machines can be operated efficiently by personnel with varying levels of experience. This ease of use translates into reduced training times and increased productivity for your operations.

[smitholivers]

Decanting machines are capable of extracting liquids from solids with great efficiency.

Decanting machines are versatile tools used in various industries to separate liquids from solids while maintaining the purity and quality of the liquid being transferred. They offer efficiency, automation, and scalability, making them valuable assets in industrial processes where liquid separation is required.

[atlasequipmnets]

Drummed decanting machine manufacturer - Atlas Equipments

7 tph decanter near Pali. Atlas is drummed decanting machine manufacturer. Click to see photos. Safe, economical and reliable way to melt bitumen.

[outtathisworld-imagines]

Manchild

——💥——💥——💥——💥——

Pairing: John Walker x F!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, suggestive themes, swearing, no mention of Y/N, Not proofread 🥲

A.N: a lil drabble inspired by Manchild by Sabrina Carpenter because John very much gives those vibes 🥲 some of the song is incorporated into the fic 💖

Please let me know what else you guys would like! I do have a few other fics on the back-burner (for now!) that I'll start to post soon and just let me know if you'd liked to be tagged in further works too ✨

——💥——💥——💥——💥——

You looked at John with a bewildered, humourless smile.

He was attempting to put on coffee for the team and he was driving you fucking insane.

“Give me that,” you finally snapped and grabbed the coffee grounds. He stood frozen on the spot in an old sports jersey with a hole by the hem and grey jersey shorts. Hair slicked back, you were unsure if it was from gel or grease at this point. “How you’ve survived Earth this long I’ll never know.”

He rolled his eyes with a groan “Do you think I had time to figure out how a coffee machine works?!” He exclaimed with his hands waving in the air. “Yanno, as a veteran-“

“If you continue, I’m going to smash the coffee pot over your head.” You glared at him, the first drops of coffee starting to decant into the pot and filling your nostrils with the unmistakable smell. “I’ll teach you how to work it when your frontal lobe finally develops.” You mock slapped your forehead “Oh wait, that will be never.”

Johns eyes narrowed at you “Ha ha, so funny.” He deadpanned. “It’s a good job you’re cute…” he shamelessly flirted and you groaned in despair.

“It’s a shame you’re so sexy yet so dumb.” Your mouth and brain not connecting quickly enough to stop yourself saying that aloud and then telling each other off for letting those words that should have remained thoughts come out of your mouth so flippantly.

He had a shit-eating grin plastered over his face. “You think I’m sexy?”

“I also think you’re dumb.” You batted back and watched the machine make coffee intensely. “That I think wholly consumes you. Just radiating sheer dumbass energy.”

John loudly snorted “I may be a dumbass-“

You cut him off “Exactly! Well done for your self-realisation! The next step on your journey through life is learning how the fucking coffee machine works!”

“Uh, I was actually going to say that I may be a dumbass but at least I got a great ass.” He began creeping closer to you.

You poured out your coffee after the machine beeped to inform you it was ready. “I shouldn’t say anything until I’ve had my coffee.” You took a sip. “I’ve seen a flat sheet of paper with more curves than you.”

John smirked, a bubble of laughter leaving his throat. “C’mon, don’t be like that. You can be pissed at me all you want but don’t deny that.” He lowly spoke, biting down on his lip as the gap between you both became almost completely eradicated.

You took a long, sip of your coffee, exaggerating the noise far too much. You decided to have some harmless fun with him, toy with the super solider a little. “Hmm, seems I can’t deny it,” you finally said into your cup. “But my ass is better.” You taunted.

He felt like he was a fish looking at bait at the end of a hook.

And he bit into it.

“You got that right,” his line of sight fell to your feet and slowly back up your body. You sent him a grotesque expression and playfully pushed him away. “What?!”

“Don’t come running to me,” you warned, pointing at him. He held his hands up defensively.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about?” That boyish charm he had, the doe eyes, the golden retriever energy. God, you knew he was stupidly insufferable.

You weren’t so stupid to know that you had a crush on him.

You also weren’t naive to the fact he had one on you too.

You used this to your advantage however, relishing his playful flirty comments that almost sounded like they were made in jest when in fact you knew he meant them with his whole heart.

The two of you fought the worst scum in the world, but you were both too afraid to make the first move.

—•—

“My god!” You cried, bent down looking in the washing machine, the lights and whites now an awful shade of greyish-pink.

“What?” The trademark voice of the one and only John Walker behind you. You stood up and he groaned “No, bend back over.”

Your head snapped round with a furrowed, yet flattered, brow. “I- uh- shut up!” You looked back to the washing machine. “What the hell happened?! Who was doing the washing today?” You began pulling out the laundry, you knew Bob would never let something like this happen- he was too meticulous with the laundry. You knew it wasn’t Alexei- he never did the laundry. You knew it wasn’t Bucky- he was on a mission. You knew it wasn’t Ava- she had done her laundry duties this week. You knew it wasn’t Yelena- she was on dish washing this week.

Your hands pulled out a black vest top and red boxers and gripped onto them tightly.

“Oh…” John let out from under his breath. His half functioning brain never put two and two together to realise that the dye from his clothes would run on to the white fabrics.

“WALKER!” You yelled and tossed the soggy clothing at him.

He caught them effortlessly and grimaced feeling the cold, wet clothes hit his chest. You kept pulling out the laundry, your hands finding your clothes and groaning at the sight that everything would now have to be bleached back to the original colour again. You pulled out your underwear, John standing there transfixed as you unraveled it.

“Well, if you’re not happy about this you don’t have to wear any.” He, far too smugly, tried to find a resolution- one that would be more in benefit to him rather than you.

Your head almost flew off your shoulders this time you turned so fast. “Fuck you.”

He smirked “I’m game if you are…”

You had to turn away, this time a smile spreading over your face instead of a scowl at his quick wit. “So stupid,” you scoffed, scolding yourself more than him. “Yanno, I’ve got more underwear,” you decided to counter back, playing fire with fire.

John casually rested against the countertop. “Oh yeah?” He watched as you stood, still a little shorter than him. “In order to believe it, I’ll have to see it…”

The space between you both started to close in. You stopped him with a hand on his chest and a playful, soft, slap to his cheek “Oh honey, only in your wildest dreams.”

You began walking away and he laughed to himself “Yeah, those and my wettest ones too!”

He was out of your line of sight but you were still brought to a sudden halt. And then a smile appeared on your lips.

—•—

“God how can one be so beautiful yet so dumb,” you said to him while shopping for groceries the next morning. The super solider trying to distinguish the difference between red and white onions.

John looked up to you through his lashes, a smile broke out across his face. “You think I’m beautiful.”

“I also said you were dumb.” You looked at your watch “And taking up too much time. Let’s hurry up, I don’t want to spend all day here.” You tried to grumble but in fact you would have loved spending the full day at the store with him, enjoying a little domesticated moment between you both.

John decided not to press your complimentary comments over the last few days, simply choosing to adorn them in his heart instead.

And chasing after you like a lost puppy with his tongue hanging out.

“Oh!” A thought came to John’s head as you passed the toiletry aisle “I need my five-in-one.”

You stopped with the cart in the middle of the store dumbfounded. “What do you mean a five-in-one?” You followed him down to the body care and he held out a bottle. Your jaw dropped with a mixture of sheer awe and disgust. “Walker, did your mom drop you on the head multiple times when you were a child?” You asked. “Good god have you heard of self-care? Who hurt you this much that you’ve had to resort to that.”

John placed it in the cart, much to your dismay. You both walked further down the aisle and you heard him snort with laughter.

“These are what I need.” He said, holding out a box of condoms with ‘XTRA LARGE’ virtually on every square inch the box.

He tossed them into the cart and you raised a brow, picking them back out and forcefully placing them on the shelf. “We don’t have time for this.” You warned. “Besides I’m too much of an innocent woman for this nonsense.” He blew a raspberry and threw them back in the cart. “John!”

“Fuck, love it when you use my first name,” he said in a tone that almost made you grab a wet floor sign from the impact it had on you. You tried to push those feelings to the side and put them back again. He bit down on his lip “I see how it is…” you raised a brow in silent questioning. “You want me to give you it raw.”

“Jesus!” You yelped, palms becoming suddenly sweaty gripping onto the shopping cart handle. “We need to go.” He placed his hand on top of the box in jest. “We do not need condoms!” You loudly shouted and other shoppers looked at you both, murmuring under their breaths at your outburst. You placed your head in your hand.

A moment of silence passed between you and John. “Now everyone knows we do it raw,” he said.

You groaned “We don’t even have sex!” You snappishly whispered.

“Well,” John trapped you between his body and the shopping cart. “Let’s have it then.”

“No.” You bluntly replied. “I’ve got stuff to do,” you walked on, John following after.

“I didn’t realise my name had changed to ‘stuff’.” He said with a coy grin.

You threw a bag of chips at him.

—•—

Later that same night John was eating from the same bag of chips you threw at him while watching TV, shouting out the most wildly incorrect answers at the screen. The full group shared passing glances as he yelled out another.

John turned to you, sat next to him on the sofa, the team strategically leaving that spot free solely for you.

You knew what they were attempting to do.

“Aren’t you impressed?” He asked, attempting to eat a chip and missing his mouth completely.

You rolled your eyes and sighed “Yeah…I just love an incompetent man.”

John laughed loudly, everyone’s attention on him. “Oh you won’t be saying that when I get you in my bed.”

“John!” You smacked him with a cushion.

“You will be saying that however…” he purred and you suddenly felt like your heart was exploding in your chest, your lungs were deprived of air and that your throat was closing up. “Many, many times.”

You nervously forced a laugh “He’s so so funny right guys!” You tried to mock him and smile normally at the team who were looking at you both with expressions that were equally concerned as they were disturbed.

They slowly disappeared to bed. Then it was just you and John.

You slowly turned to him. “What?” He asked with a shrugging shoulder.

The feelings inside you burst out.

“You are such a manchild.”

John laughed “You love it.”

He was painfully right. It was the smartest and most correct he had said that night and all week.

You gave in to your feelings, any and all inhibitions out of the window as you swiftly straddled his thighs, surprising him.

“You. Me. Bed. Now.”

[archivewriter1ont]

Brief Thoughts on "A Distant Echo"

I actually like that the Bad Batch was so skeptical of Rex's "feeling" about the mission before they got to Purkoll. As the "black ops" experimental team, they've likely seen as much and maybe more of the darkest side of the conflict as he has, the gray areas and the turmoil that comes with choosing, and I feel as though that informed their approach to the assignment. I read a fic on Ao3 (I'll have to try to find it...don't remember the title) that explored that through Crosshair's eyes. He was prepared the entire time to 1) kill this "Echo" character if he had willingly betrayed his brothers or 2) put him out of his misery if he was too far gone. Then the INSTANT he saw Tech cradling Echo and trying to disconnect him from the machine and heard the "reg" cracking jokes about his trauma, our favorite sniper became a snarling, protective watchdog. The last line was along the lines of "If anyone wanted Echo, they'd have to kill the Bad Batch first."

The Batch's perspective changed from "You know, maybe your friend is dead" to "Nope, now he's ours because we can take care of him" because they had evidence now that Echo was not a willing traitor and that he was actually ready to fight to the death to avoid being taken prisoner again. I think this is an example, not of their prejudice against regs in general, but of their competence as a special ops team, their readiness to do what needed to be done to complete the mission no matter what, and finally their willingness to immediately adopt this hurting, broken man who was suddenly thrust into the same kind of different life that they had known since decanting. Crosshair was perfectly willing to goad Rex about leaving Echo for dead but then we see him grabbing Echo's shoulder when they're fighting in the village, holding onto him. Whether you interpret this as Crosshair comforting Echo or "mom-arming" him to keep him from falling (even though he wasn't near the edge) it is still a sign of how quickly the Batch accepted him and I love it to pieces. ❤️

In my own novelization of these four episodes that is still in the works, I'm super excited to flesh this out! We see so much of the Batch's wartime selves that it's almost overwhelming when you look into the details.

[sky-scribbles]

Shepard holds a funeral for her clone.

The paperwork is almost harder than the ceremony. Turns out it’s tricky to register the death of someone whose birth - creation? Decanting-from-vat? - was never recorded to begin with. Then there’s some kind of question about whether the clone needs to be retroactively registered as a Council space citizen to have her death put on the official record, and if so, whether she counts as a member of the Systems Alliance or as an ‘undocumented alien’. Which is pretty fucking ironic, considering how utterly she’d have loathed having the word alien attached to her.

And once Shepard’s ground her teeth through a dozen calls and bludgeoned through the first layer of formwork - a death certificate still needs a name.

‘I have to put something,’ she says. She’s aware that her voice is ragged, and that Kaidan is watching her as he brews her fourth coffee of the evening with concern heavy on his face. She must look barely alive, up near midnight in a kitchen that was Anderson’s and still feels nothing like hers, hair falling forward, eyes shadowed grey. Datapads and empty mugs strewn around her. Fine. She’s felt barely alive ever since she woke up in a Cerberus lab.

‘You could choose one for her,’ Kaidan says gently. A lot of people speak to her gently, these days.

‘She’d hate that. A name makes you individual. She didn’t want to be an individual; she wanted to be me.’

The cofee machine whirrs softly, sounding louder than it is in the open space of the apartment. It still doesn’t feel right, all this space for one person. Someone could drown in this much space.

‘She didn’t want to be you, though. Not really.’ Kaidan pours out the coffee, his eyes only leaving her face for a moment. ‘What she wanted was to be the symbol. The face on the vids.’

He carries the mug over and sets it down beside her hand. Shepard grips it tight. The unfinished form blinks up at her from the datapad screen, and she looks away.

‘I’m not asking this because I don’t support you doing it, or to judge you for it, or anything,’ Kaidan says, after a moment. ‘I just want to understand. Can you tell me why this is so important to you? I mean - I get that you were trying to save her, and she... she let go. But...’

He hesitates, and in his silence Shepard hears, she tried to kill you. She tried to take you away from me, and everyone who cares about you, for a second time - because she was jealous.

Shepard sips her coffee. It hasn’t had time to cool down, and her lips smart. She ignores it. She thinks.

‘What you said about... being the symbol,’ she says at last. ‘I get why she wanted it, or thought she did. I understand feeling that Commander Shepard is someone bigger than you are.’

Kaidan breathes out slowly, and takes a seat beside her.

‘I get feeling that you’re so small, so nothing, next to everyone’s idea of what Commander Shepard is. And when I fall short -’ She sees him prepare to protest, and cuts across him. ‘I do, I do all the time - I feel like it’d be easier if I were the symbol. Not...’ She waves a hand, indicating all the sleep-starved mess of her. ‘This. I don’t even know when what would Shepard do and what will I do stopped feeling like the same question.’

She lets her hand fall back onto the table. Kaidan takes it and holds it tight.

‘And I think of her, the clone, waking up in some Cerberus med bay. Confused. And Brooks - Brooks was there, feeding her things to believe, manipulating her, turning her into the symbol she wanted. And I get it.’ Shepard bites her burned lip. ‘Because I woke up in a Cerberus lab. And I was scared. And they used me, and I let them.’

What she does not add is, and sometimes I don’t feel any more real than her. I don’t have any way to prove that I’m the woman who died in the wreckage of her broken ship. They wiped away that woman’s scars. There could be all kinds of tech in my head, feeding me a lie, telling me I’m real.

She swallows. Her throat feels raw. ‘And now the clone’s dead, and no one cares. We’re planning a fucking party. If I don’t push for a funeral, she’ll just go unregistered and undocumented and everyone will keep joking about how crazy this whole mess has been, how I fell through a fish tank and a mad clone tried to steal my life, and it’d be like she never existed at all. I don’t have to fill in these forms. I could take the easy road and let her be a ghost. But I can’t do that, Kaidan. I can’t.’

He looks at her, his eyes steady and patient and full of worry. Then he slips an arm over her shoulder and pulls her in, and Shepard leans into him, needing the surety of his touch, his warmth. Anything that tells her she’s something more than a force piloting a set of N7 armour.

Kaidan presses a slow kiss to the top of her head. He holds her until she stops feeling ready to howl. Then he sits with her and helps her fill in the forms, helps her choose a name for the clone, one that fits. When morning comes, he calls C-Sec and stays on the line until they agree to release the body to the Normandy, into the custody of the only person who could be considered the dead woman’s relative. 

He doesn’t ask Shepard any more questions as to why she needs this done.

In the end, they bury her in space, as Shepard would a crewmate. And no one has stories to tell of what she meant to them. They have nothing to say about the achievements of her angry little life. But they wear their dress blues, and speak softly, and they turn the lights down low.

Shepard doesn’t know if this is what her clone would have wanted. Maybe she never learned to want anything for herself at all. It doesn’t matter. A funeral doesn’t help her clone; it helps her.

They lift the casket into the airlock. EDI opens the outer door. And the casket leaps away into space in a blur of silver-grey, like the body within is hungry for the stars.

[thatdykepunkslut]

absolutely incredible machine my roommate found at a local thrift shop. also voice reveal ig lmao

[ID: A decanter set in the shape of an early automobile made out of thin metal. It has a music box that activates when the decanter is lifted. END ID]

[padawansuggest]

Obi-Wan: Alright, men, what are we thinking right now?

Wooley: *shoved his lil hand up super fast* Oh, me! I got this one, me!

Obi-Wan: *waving his hand over them all* Hmmmmmmm- you. *points to Wooley*

Wooley: *fist pumps* Yes! Okay so I think we should throw Cody a decanting-day party with cheeses.

Obi-Wan: Cheeses?

Waxer: No he’s right, Cody likes cheeses. And caf. I think we should get him an espresso machine.

Obi-Wan: Those are super expensive, I have several contacts I can pout at till they buy me one. Why cheeses? I’ve never seen Cody’s apparently well known love for cheese.

Boil: Yeah, that’s cause he’s scared you’ll think he’s insane.

Obi-Wan: Okay, but, like, is this a fancy stinky cheese thing or is he gonna eat an entire block of store brand cheddar right from the package??? This is news to me and both have to be approached very differently.

Wooley: It’s the stinky one. They’re like SUPER icky but he loves them but he will eat them right from the package with nothing but bread at room temperature.

Obi-Wan: No, no, that’s how those ones are supposed to be eaten.

Wooley: Is gross tho.

Waxer: Idk I think they’re good if the bread is crunchy, but I like the not-as-smelly ones.

Boil: I’ll eat the store brand cheddar right from the block idk man

Obi-Wan: Awesome, I have an idea. Party at Padme’s house, new espresso machine that I’ll get… probably Bail, I haven’t annoyed Bail lately. I’ll get Bail to buy him an espresso machine. You guys get to come with me to look for cheeses, both fancy and store brand, but they will be on separate sides of the room so no one complains. I’m sorry, Boil, but this means you’ll be with Anakin and Ahsoka on the store brand side of the room.

Boil: The price of not smelling that stinky stuff is worth it every time.

Obi-Wan: Awesome. Best decanting-day party ever.

[fanfic-obsessed]

Twist The Madness

Master Sifo-Dyas is the change point in this little bit of madness. 

In canon Sifo-Dyas is the Jedi that commissioned the Clone Army, driven mad by visions of a war that would destroy the Jedi, of the Jedi temple burning. It is unclear if he was seeing the results of the Clone Wars and Order 66 (thus, like Anakin, created the visions that drove him mad) or if he prevented his visions and Order 66 was something different entirely. It is also unclear if he was patsy of the Sith from the beginning, or if his plan was hijacked by the Sith at a later point.

But what if his takeaway from his visions and the madness they drove him to was just a bit different. Not an army, but protectors. 

Sifo-Dyas still commissioned 1 million clones but not all at once. Instead it would be an ongoing order for generations. The initial amount decanted would be 100,000 clones, most would grow at a double rate until they reach physical adulthood, then their aging would be slowed to normal for near humans. Their training would be generalized and the calling they would be raised with would be to protect the Jedi Temples. The intention being that they would be spread throughout the active temples and live amongst the Jedi there. Approximately 10,000 had a slightly different charge. Each would be raised for a specific Jedi, their genetics tweaked so that they would be a perfect companion and protector (including aging the clone to either adulthood or to match their assigned Jedi and then matching their aging to their Jedi). 

Jango Fett is still contracted to be the progenitor for the clones, but not because of his ability to kill Force Users. Instead it is his genetics themselves that separates him out from other bounty hunters. Due to the crossbreeding of his ancestors, his genetic code is particularly malleable, meaning that the genetic modifications needed to match Clone to a specific Jedi are that much easier. He was not expected to provide training, thus he simply provided generic material  (enough over the course of one year for all 1 million clones in the order), is paid a massive amount of credits plus 1 son (Boba) and leaves; he has no idea that this order is for the Jedi.  

At his request there is a specific genetic marker that is artificially added to all of the clones but Boba so that none of them can claim to be him or his son. He also signs a truly impressive number of agreements that released him from responsibility for the clones AND guaranteed that he knew that he was being cloned (Look, realistically the ethical issue with cloning a sentient being centers around the being being cloned, not the clones themselves; the ethical issues with the clones and their sentience is sentient trafficking).

I want it to be clear here. Sifo-dyas was still driven to madness before he commissioned the clones. He and master Dooku were working together on this project, sharing the madness. Dooku does not fall to the darkside here, though he does still leave the Jedi Order. Though their machinations see that the Clones on the whole are treated better, as they are meant to be companions and protectors of the Jedi, the clones are very much being raised for a destiny that they were not able to choose (with all the ethical issues that come with that). There is a heavy focus and even heavier propaganda throughout the clones' childhood of how they are, in a very real sense, being raised for the Jedi. It is also very heavily referenced that the Jedi as a whole do not know about the Clone yet, since they were a surprise.

The 10,000 who were being raised for a specific Jedi grew up with every piece of information that could be found about their Jedi. Their training was tailored to the Jedid they were assigned to.  The information/propaganda/brainwashing was so specific for these 10,000 that after about the age of 3 chronologically, (a variety of ages physically, though age 6 is the most common for the clone that are meant to go to the adult Jedi), the clones whose Jedi died before they could meet could not be retrained. Instead their fellow clones consider them to be a living memorial for the lost Jedi (It is a really weird cultural development, but both Sifo-Dyas and Dooku allow it-They want the Clones as a culture to be in a symbiotic relationship with the Jedi and this fit in with that). 

Sifo-Dyas’s plan did derail Dooku’s fall entirely, instead of causing Sifo-dyas’s death Dooku ghosted Palpatine around the time of the Naboo invasion. It never occurs to Dooku to let anyone know that Palpatine is a Sith. 

Fast forward about 10 years, Dooku and Sifo-Dyas construct a far too complicated, dramatic plan to lure Obi Wan to Kamino. As far as they are concerned it is only right that Obi Wan gets ‘his’ clone protector, Cody, first (as Dooku’s grand padawan).  It actually somewhat mirrors cannon, in that Anakin is sent on a mission to escort Senator Padme Amidala to Naboo (this is actually a separate plan by Palptine, who is trying to corrupt Anakin.In this Padme has been little more than a puppet for Palpatine for years-Her will is so strong that she has retained little bits of her own sense of self, as long as Palpatine is not in the equation but nothing like what she should have been)  alone, as a test to see how ready he is to take his trials. Dooku then hires a bounty hunter, not Jango Fett, to lure Obi Wan to Kamino. 

Obi Wan is met on Kamino by the Kaminoans first but also an all but visibly vibrating Cody. This Cody is radiating adoration and glee into the Force at finally meeting ‘his’ Jedi. It should be noted that Cody’s presence in the Force could not have been more perfect for Obi Wan. Cody gives the full tour to a mildly shellshocked Obi Wan; including introducing him to Rex, who has been raised for Anakin (I debated Rex going to Anakin or Ahsoka, but ultimately decided that Echo and Fives (together as twins) were meant for Ahsoka). They end the tour with a meeting with Dooku and Sifo Dyas who explain the clones.  

Now Dooku and Sifo-Dyas deliberately have Cody stay while they explain who and what the clones were meant to be.  Obi Wan already does not want to hurt Cody and there are only so many ways one can say ‘What the fuck do you mean cloned protectors?’ and all of them could be read as a rejection of the clones themselves. Dooku also manages to make it clear to Obi Wan without stating it outright, thus in Obi Wan’s eyes leaving Cody in the dark, that if the Jedi Order rejects the clones they (the clones) will all be killed as defective.

So now Obi Wan gets to make a very carefully worded call to the Jedi High Council about the new 100,000 lives they need to become responsible for (who will be murdered if they don’t), of which about 10,000 have been brainwashed so thoroughly that barring them from ‘their Jedi’ might actually cause very real psychological harm.  Also politically the Jedi appears to have just acquired an army, possibly of slaves.

Like, even without the war, the sheer magnitude of What the Fuck that comes with ‘These people think we own them, their entire sense of self rests on how well they serve us. How do we tell them we don’t without breaking their sense of self’. Also being told that Dooku and Sifo-Dyas, who have not technically broken any laws(they used Dooku’s money instead of the Jedi’s so there is not even any fraud), would continue to have the Kaminoans produce clones and give them to the Jedi Order until the 1 million already paid for have been decanted. 

I am just saying, everyone on the high council needed to take a minute. Obi Wan also needed to take a minute. Oddly enough Obi Wan’s minute of panic came just before Anakin would have slaughtered the Tuskens (Controlled Padme was under orders to get Anakin in as many situations as possible that would cause him to reach for the dark. Including following a vision of his mother dying). That moment of panic disrupted the rage and pain enough that Anakin did not reach for the dark side or slaughter the Tuskens.  He escaped with his mothers body instead. 

They manage to get all 100,000 clones back to the Coruscant Temple without causing a panic or a diplomatic incident with the Senate (in spite of Palpatine watching like a hawk for anything he could use to discredit the Jedi, after his most reliable source of information ghosted him).  Then the Jedi made a point of asking each and every clone what they actually wanted to do (they were truly at a loss as to what else to do). Of the 90,000 generally trained, about 500 did not want to be protectors of the Jedi. As the Jedi’s response is immediately ‘Do you know what you want to do? If not, we can help you figure it out. We can get you education and whatever resources you want to pursue your dream’ with the manic air of someone who really wants help but has no idea how to, caused the remaining 89,500 generally trained clones to not just cement but weld their loyalties to the Jedi. Like they were all ready to die for the Jedi before, because of propaganda,  but now that they were even more amazing than the Clones had thought…now the loyalty of these clones is that much deeper (frankly the Jedi remain worried about this). For the 10,000 clones that were trained for specific Jedi, they actually had to stop asking because without fail the thought of not being able to protect ‘their’ Jedi led to a panic attack. 

So now we have the Jedi who have kinda been forced to accept these protectors and companions.  The adult Jedi are working really hard to figure out a balance between trying to break the brainwashing and letting the clones have the autonomy to act on their own desires (since their desires are ‘protect the Jedi’). The children in the Creche were simply introduced to their companions with the hope that being raised together can mitigate some of the training (This also means that the creche and classes have to be rapidly adjusted so that they can accommodate the clones as well). 

For some angsty flavor, we see the Jedi coming to love (romantic, familial, sexual, platonic, or other) their Clone companions and being constantly beset by thought of ‘how can I act on these feelings, they don’t have a choice’ and ‘they think the belong to me…?’. And as far as the clones are concerned everything that their Jedi does reinforces how they are deserving of the clones' loyalty and love.

Note: I do want you all to know that sudden addition of Rex following Anakin around AND the lack of war did derail Anidala before it began

[atlasequiptech]

Asphalt melting equipment manufacturers - Atlas Equipments

Our bitumen decanting machines are engineered with user-friendliness in mind. We understand the importance of simplicity in operation, ensuring that our machines can be operated efficiently by personnel with varying levels of experience. This ease of use translates into reduced training times and increased productivity for your operations.

[synchodai]

Replying to this person out of the inbox because I don't want their identity published. I will have a not-so-nice reply to this message, and I don't want anyone who reads this to send hate their way or think I'm dunking on this person. They did not say anything offensive and I appreciate them coming to my inbox.

I feel the need to reply because there's some facts here that I find questionable.

Firstly, the Five are not usurpers.

The Five (Illysera, Yaga-Shura, Sendai, Abazigal, and Balthazar) are legitimate children of Bhaal and therefore legitimate inheritors of his legacy as much as Sarevok and Gorion's Ward. Abazigal outright brags about Bhaal fucking an actual dragon when talking about his birth. The Five weren't usurping the throne -- they were building it. OG Balthazar planned on betraying Bhaal by killing himself once he inherited his divine legacy, but Balthazar was never a pretender. His betrayal couldn't have worked if he was.

The only usurper was Amelyssan, a high priestess of Bhaal who did not have any of his divine essence and had to steal his throne from Gorion's Ward, and she was never considered part of the Five. She brought them together but it was very important to the plot that she was considered merely a servant who was beneath them.

Secondly, Orin's effigies are a mockery of the Throne of Bhaal events.

She most likely thinks she's honoring her god by making these displays that mimic the deaths of the Five and Amelyssan, but it just betrays how much she doesn't get it.

Orin naming Amelyssan "the sixth" in one of her effigies shows her lack of understanding of Bhaal and his machinations. To count Amelyssan among the Five who had actual god blood would be an insult to him, not an honor.

Similarly, using petty adventurers as stand-ins for Bhaalspawn is also an insult to his blood.

Bhaal's grand plan was for his children to sow chaos and murder one another, with the last Bhaalspawn standing to be the inheritor of his throne. He revels in the spilling of Bhaalspawn blood. Orin is miming this highest act of worship (killing your Bhaalspawn siblings) by not actually doing it. She's substituting half-gods with nobodies and pretending they're Bhaalspawn. She's pretending to be the best worshiper of a carnivorous god by offering him plant-based substitutes.

The one time she could have murdered an actual Bhaalspawn, she failed. OP is right in this regard -- this is what makes her no different to the disinherited and dishonored Five.

Thirdly, the cult was not made to inspire terror.

Now, this one is a more debateable point since worship is a subjective thing and the methods of worship naturally change over time. But for context, Sarevok was the person who revived the worship of Bhaal and he did so with the express purpose of ascending to godhood by killing all the other Bhaalspawn. Once only one Bhaalspawn remains, Bhaal's essence will accumulate in a single vessel and he shall return to the material plane. In other words, the original point of the cult of Bhaal (at least the one in the city of Baldur's Gate) was to resurrect Bhaal. He didn't care if the normies were terrorized along the way -- his main goal was to cheat death and come back in some form. That was the intended purpose of siring so many children in the first place.

This is the reason why Sarevok in BG3 thinks Orin is pretentious. She's doing all this flashy bloody hubbub, but none of it actually furthers the goal of reviving Bhaal. She doesn't seem to care about bringing back their god to power at all when she does her murders. It's hollow symbolism that apes without actual understanding.

And all this is why she doesn't get it. Orin's tragedy is she is so devoted, talented, and trying her best to impress her father(s) only for them to scoff at her grand gestures. She doesn't understand where she's going wrong -- in her mind, she's giving them everything. She's giving them all the blood in the world, but she's doing it by putting it in a pretty decanter that makes it virtually useless to them.

Lastly, Orin's artistry goes against Bhaal's ideology, not just modern cult orthodoxy.

To Bhaal, Orin is the spawn of a twice-dead failure who fills his temple and tribunal with other echoes of failure. She overcomplicates when pleasing Bhaal is really simple — murder your family, murder the ones you love and cannibalize their essence. Durge is closer to doing this because they've canonically murdered their foster family, they (possibly could have) murdered their lover in camp, and now they're murdering their sister (and the whole tribunal). Sure, Orin killed her own mother, but to do it in self-defence? To preserve her corpse and not consume her soul? It shows weakness, unneeded sentimentality.

When you go full Dark Urge and accept Bhaal, you surrender your being to Bhaal and effectively become the new Bhaal. That's why the game keeps insisting that "this is not you" because you are allowing an erasure of your identity to bring back a dead god. This is the philosophy of Bhaal and all other evil entities in the game -- the cost of unchecked power is depersonalization and loss of humanity. Artistry and beauty is antithetical to that. That's why blank slate Durge who is willing to off themselves to usher Bhaal's return is the favorite while Orin is not.

[bullet-prooflove]

If you’re still doing the 3 items and a character prompt (which I somehow missed when you posted it):

a suit, a glass of bourbon, and a jewelry box for Jack Dayton

Tagging: @kmc1989

It’s late when Jack gets home, much later than he intended. You’ve left the lowlights on for him because you know he hates coming home to a dark apartment. His fingertips skate over the crystal decanter of bourbon, he contemplates pouring himself a glass but then thinks better of it. He’s been trying to develop some healthier habits lately, strategies for coping with the stress he’s constantly under.

He heads for the shower instead, stripping off his suit and leaving it in the laundry hamper for his housekeeper to deal with tomorrow. He sets his cufflinks down on the vanity, making a mental note to return them to the small jewellery box in the bedroom when he gets out of the shower.

They’re Cartier, made of silver and tiny watch cog pieces. You’d bought them for him, for his birthday last month and he’s worn them every day since. They’re one of his most treasured possessions.

He can’t describe how good the heated water feels on his skin when he steps into the cubical. It rains down on him and he can feel the tension beginning to unfurl in his muscles. He places both hands on the tile as he ducks his head underneathe the monsoon showerhead and the noise just stops.

He doesn’t hear you step inside the shower, he doesn’t realise you’re there until he turns around and sees you naked in all your glory.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” He says softly as your hands come to rest on his chest, your fingertips chasing over his scars. You're the first woman he’s ever felt comfortable being naked around, the first one that hasn’t looked at him with disgust or pity when they see the marks on his body.

“You know I don’t sleep well without you.” You remind him as you trace a vivid pink line up to his collarbone. Your thumb chases over the line of his jaw and he sighs contently as his forehead comes to rest upon yours.

“I missed you this morning.” He murmurs against your lips, his mouth brushing over yours.

You’d been gone when he’d woken up, he’d found a note propped up against the coffee machine with a heart drawn on it informing him you’d had to leave for an early lecture.

“I missed you too.” You tease as his palms come to rest on your hips drawing you closer. “Let me show you just how much.”

Love Jack? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[mk-writes-stuff]

Character Intro: Cassie

Tumblr ate this post last time I tried to do it, so let’s try it again! Character intro 2 for my darling girl Cassie

Cassie is a clone of the Head of Sixth Station, Cassiopeia, so she wasn’t born in the traditional sense - she was decanted. Chronologically, she’s been decanted for about a year and a half when the story starts, but she was the physical and mental equivalent of twenty-four when she was decanted, so she’s about twenty-five now.

Cassie’s experience on Sixth Station was unpleasant, to say the least. Clones are not legally considered people anywhere on the seven stations, but Sixth Station takes that to an extreme. Cassiopeia is constantly farming clones for slave labour and, eventually, to expose to the magical radiation surrounding the stations in hopes that they’ll develop magical powers. The life of a clone is short and brutal, full of exhausting labour, strict and cruel punishments, and the knowledge of an inevitable, brutal death.

Cassie had enough. After about six months of this, she escaped and stowed away on a cargo ship bound for Seventh Station. She got out undetected, but the cargo bay was poorly insulated from the radiation surrounding them and her right arm received bad radiation exposure, forcing her to hack into a sliding door and sever it to prevent the spread of dangerous radiation-induced illness. The radiation did also give her a magical affinity for and understanding of machines, however, which she uses to her advantage.

She spent about a year on the lower half of Seventh Station, making friends, dating women, and working as hired muscle. She spent her spare time constructing a mechanical arm to replace the one she’d had severed.

Unfortunately, it all came to an end when she was sent by her supervisor to visit the upper half of Seventh Station. She was detected by radiation detectors as having magical abilities and was whisked away to become the bodyguard of the heir of Seventh Station, Belladonna - with the understanding that this was all in name and Belladonna would soon kill her to steal her magical powers.

But, for reasons unbeknownst to Cassie, Belladonna hasn’t killed her. And also, she’s really unfairly hot.

That’s Cassie for you. She likes women and punching things, in no particular order. Despite the “dumb muscle” impression she gives off with her jacked appearance and lack of decorum, there’s a lot more going on in her head than meets the eye. Cassie is an angry, passionate woman driven by a deep-seated fear of her own past and identity and a longing to make sure no one else ever has to go through what she went through. She’d do anything to help others escape their torment, but can’t bring herself to confront what happened to her - when push comes to shove, she doesn’t know what to do with her problems, other than punch them or run. She’s kind, fiercely independent, and deeply loyal to those she loves, but she struggles to address the parts of her she’s escaped.

Appearance-wise, Cassie is a tall, muscular woman with a mechanical metal arm that starts just below her shoulder for a right arm. She has a variety of hand attachments, but usually prefers a simple clamp. She has pale skin with a few scars, long blonde hair that’s constantly out of control, and mismatched eyes - one blue, one purple, although she hides the latter under an eye patch. For most of the story, she wears white armour and black clothes underneath as her guard uniform, but she’s in sweatpants the minute she’s off-duty.

Here’s a picrew of her:

Fun facts about Cassie:

She’s completely illiterate and relies on text-to-speech and dictation software for her work

She doesn’t know what a hairbrush is

Her name is Cassie because the first time she was asked for her name, she almost said “Cassiopeia” on instinct but stopped herself halfway through

Unbeknownst to her, she’s a misprint clone (meaning the brain conditioning that was given to her while she was being grown failed in some aspect). Her misprint was on the personality imprint meant to make her docile and subservient

In very early development of the story, her name was Cass

I hope you like Cassie - she’s very fun to write. As always, questions and comments are welcome!