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ragingbookdragon · 4 years

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To Challenge The Flow of Fate PT. 1

An Adrian Tepes (Alucard) x Reader Story

Warnings: Explicit Language, Mentions of Violence Author’s Note: So, after binge watching seasons 1 and 2, of course, I started a mental story, and I’ve finally put it down to word. Enjoy! Cause I have no idea where this is going tbh. -Thorne <3 Update: I changed the title from ‘To Challenge The Flow Of Immortality’ to what it is now, because I feel that it fits better with the story!

Her eyes snapped open the second after they hit the ground, and she shoved at the legs across her torso. “Trevor. Get the fuck off me before I amputate both your legs.” His chuckle quickly dissolved into a groan as he rolled off her, clutching at his stomach, and she leaned up, hands coming to her side to help push herself up. She muttered to herself as she dusted off her pants, slipping the sword back into its scabbard, “What type of genius lands on metal beams that have been under the goddamn ground for who knows how goddamn long?” Trevor rolled his eyes as he helped Sypha to her feet and retorted,

“Will you stop complaining (Y/N)? You’re alive, aren’t you?” She jerked around, narrowing her eyes into a glare.

“You won’t be in the next few minutes if we don’t find a way out of here.” When Sypha found her feet, he looked over at (Y/N), pulling a smug face.

“And what are you gonna do? Stab me?” Her hand went to her hilt and she spat,

“Don’t tempt me you arse.” Trevor stuck his tongue out at her, but stopped when the Speaker next to them groaned,

“Will you two please stop fighting? You’re acting like children.” The siblings glared at each other for a moment before they scoffed and began walking to the hallway. They entered the room, and (Y/N) immediately drew her eyes around the walls.

“Wow…look at this place…it’s amazing.” She drew her gaze to the center of the room, scanning the large coffin. “Is that what I think it is?” Trevor shrugged and muttered,

“Won’t know ‘til we find out.” No sooner did the words leave his mouth, did his foot sink into the ground. The sound of gears turning echoed through the room and he blurted, “I didn’t do that.” (Y/N) glowered at him from his right and quipped,

“Nice goin’ loser. You just woke up whatever’s in there.” Before he could retort, a cloud of gas released from the coffin and they stared at it as it rose, the top sliding off. She leaned over slightly, voice soft as she murmured, “Trevor…is that…” He nodded, lips pursed into a thin line, and (Y/N) gripped the hilt of her sword. The lid dropped against the marble with loud thunk, and she felt it resonate in her chest as the man rose from it, coming to levitate above it. He hunched over, voice low and gravely as he asked,

“Why are you here?” Sypha’s eyes grew wide as she exclaimed,

“The story…the Messiah sleeps under Gresit! The man who will save us from Dracula.” The man didn’t respond, simply turning his attention to (Y/N) and Trevor.

“And you two? Are you in search of a mythical savior as well?” (Y/N) opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off as her brother remarked,

“I fell down a hole.” She grunted, elbowing him in the side.

“Will you fucking shut the hell up before you say something even more stupid?” He eyed her from the corner of his eye, tempted to stick his tongue out again, and she turned to the man. “We need your help.” Sypha nodded, adding,

“Dracula is abroad in the land. He has an army of monsters and is determined to wipe out all human life wherever he finds it.” The man’s head simply tipped as he acknowledged her, but then asked,

“Is that what you believe?”

“That Dracula’s released his horde on Wallachia? That’s fact. There’s no belief involved.” (Y/N) watched carefully as her brother spoke, hand tightening around the hilt of her sword as his voice dropped and he questioned, “But that’s not what you’re asking.”

“No.” Trevor drew his gaze up and clarified,

“You’re asking if I believe you’re some sleeping Messiah who’ll save us and no, I don’t.” Even Sypha’s shocked call of his name didn’t stop him as he growled, “I know what you are.” (Y/N) knew a grin was on the man’s face as he challenged,

“And what am I?”

“You’re a vampire.” At this, the man finally looked up at them and with Sypha’s gasp in her ears, she caught sight of pointed fangs. “So, I have to ask myself, have we come down here to wake up the man who’ll kill Dracula…or did we come here to kill Dracula?” The man rose to his full height, but before he could speak, (Y/N) announced,

“He’s not Dracula.” Everyone’s eyes turned to her, and Trevor scoffed,

“He’s a vampire (Y/N). Under Gresit. That doesn’t leave a lot of room for misinterpretations.” She side eyed him before glancing at the vampire, eyes scanning his face.

“And Dracula’s forces are attacking Gresit in a war on humanity. No person, not even a vampire, would sleep as they waged war. You have to be awake and present.” She observed the man for a moment. “Trevor, he might be a vampire…but he isn’t Dracula.” The vampire lowered towards the ground, eyeing (Y/N) as she inconspicuously moved to Trevor’s blindside.

“One calls me Dracula…the other doesn’t.” Trevor grunted at him.

“I’ll call you whatever you like if you’re gonna show me your teeth.” The vampire gestured to Sypha.

“She called you Belmont…are you from the House of Belmont?” (Y/N) could feel the tension rising as Trevor affirmed,

“Trevor Belmont. Last son of the House of Belmont.” The man glanced at (Y/N).

“And you? The one who is standing at his back?” (Y/N) met his eyes, amazed at how they looked like pools of molten gold.

“(Y/N) Belmont. Last daughter of the House of Belmont.” The man’s eyebrows pulled together, and he explained,

“The Belmont’s fought creatures of the night, did they not? For generations.” Trevor barely spared the two women glances before he moved, ignoring (Y/N)’s hum of concern.

“Say what you mean.” He threatened, stepping to the sides, watching as the man’s eyes followed him.

“The Belmont’s killed vampires.” Trevor huffed.

“Until the good people decided they didn’t want us around.” The nonchalance made (Y/N)’s fingers twitch as she started moving the other direction, opposite of Trevor. The vampire’s eyes darted to her moving figure, letting her know he was aware as he said,

“And now Dracula is carrying out an execution order on the human race.” He paused, then raised a hand. “Do you care Belmont?” The question gave Trevor a pause, and he looked at the wall in front of him.

“Honestly, I didn’t, no.” He took a breath and continued. “But now…yes, it’s time to stop it.”

“Do you think you can?” Trevor turned, hand moving to his whip and declared,

“What I think…is I’m going to have to kill you.” Sypha grunted, taking a step forward.

“Belmont! No!” She argued. “He’s the one we’ve been waiting for.” Trevor moved back a bit, (Y/N) doing the same.

“No, he’s not. He’s a vampire. And he’s not been waiting here for hundreds of years, have you?” The man’s eyes narrowed into slits as he warned,

“I don’t like your tone, Belmont.”

“This place is old, but it’s not been abandoned. It’s alive and working. So, go on, vampire, tell her exactly how long you’ve been waiting down here.” The man’s attention turned to the Speaker.

“What is the year of your Lord?” Her voice was clear as she responded,

“1476.” He turned back to Trevor.

“Perhaps a year, then.” Trevor nodded.

“There. And on top of that, what kind of messiah creates mechanical death traps to buy himself an uninterrupted nap in a stone coffin?”

“My defenses we not for you.” Trevor huffed.

“You could’ve told your defenses that.”

“They are machines, nothing more. They were not intended to protect me from you.” The vampire’s tone was clipped, and (Y/N) quickly concluded,

“Defenses of that power would give even the best monster hunters trouble.” She regarded him with a look of suspicion. “You’re protecting yourself from something more dangerous than simple monster hunters.” He nodded at her, turning to look back at her brother.

“I asked you a question. Do you care?” Trevor leaned forward and announced,

“I care about doing my family’s work. I care about saving lives.” He turned his body. “Am I going to have to kill you?” At this, the man’s tone colored with anger and he sneered,

“Do you think you can? If you’re really a Belmont and not some runt running around with a family crest, you might be able to.” He flicked a finger, and (Y/N) heard a clinking sound before a silver sword spun through the air. He caught it and slung it back, the air cutting before it with a sharp slice. “Let’s find out.” Sypha leaned forward.

“Belmont you can’t do this!” She turned to (Y/N). “(Y/N)! Stop him, please!” Trevor cut her off before she could speak.

“Tell it to your floating vampire Jesus here.” The man’s face pinched and he countered,

“You’ve got nothing but insults, have you? A tired little-” The whip cracked the lower end of his torso, sending him flying. He skidded across the ground, and looked up, a hiss passing his lips, and (Y/N) warned,

“Trevor.” He didn’t look at her.

“Stay there (Y/N). I’m fine.” The two began to fight, and (Y/N) moved back near Sypha, knowing she couldn’t help her brother.

“(Y/N), please! Stop them!” She glanced at the woman and grunted with laughter as she watched Trevor knee the man in the groin. Her laughter quickly faded into shock as she watched her brother’s short sword snap, then get punched to the ground. The vampire dropped his sword, moving to Trevor, one hand gripping the hair at the crown of his head, the other shoving his shoulder down.

“Do you have a god to put a last prayer to, Belmont?” A grin played at Trevor’s lips and he quipped,

“Yeah. Dear God, please don’t let the vampire’s guts ruin my good tunic.” The man’s bled with confusion as he asked,

“What?” He let out a pained grunt as the dagger entered his chest. He leaned forward, hissing, “I can still rip your throat out.”

“You can, but it won’t stop me staking you.”

“But you will still die.”

“But I don’t care. Killing you was the point. Living through it was just a luxury.” The vampire let out a chuckle, but stopped as a hand tightened in his hair, pulling him back, and an edge of a blade rested against his throat. He made no movement as he felt breath next to his ear.

“I might be the only Belmont willing to talk my way out of fights, but make no mistake, I will cut your head off if you kill my brother, vampire.” A bright light appeared in the vampire’s gaze and he looked forward at Sypha, who stood in front of him.

“And I will incinerate you before your fangs touch that man’s throat.”

“I thought I was your legendary savior.” Sypha’s head lowered.

“So did I. But he saved my life.”

“You’re a Speaker-Magician.” She nodded.

“Yes, and his goal is mine…” Her eyes shone bright as she added, “To stand up for the people.” The vampire regarded her for a moment before looking down and muttering,

“Good. Very good. Two vampire hunters and a magician.” The cut began to heal on his torso, and he leaned up off Trevor’s dagger. “You’ll do.” He let go of Trevor’s hair, but made no more movement when (Y/N)’s blade didn’t move.

“You won’t kill us?” She queried. He nodded, as best he could and added,

“On my honor.” With his confirmation, she drew back her blade, and released her grip, smoothing the hair down from where she had it gripped. He stood up and turned to them. “I am Adrian Tepes. Known to the Wallachians as Alucard…son of Vlad Dracula Tepes.” Before he could continue, (Y/N) leaned around his body, pointing at Trevor.

“Fuckin’ told you dumbass.” Trevor’s blue eyes filled with annoyance and he gave her a sarcastic clap.

“Congratulations sister, shall I give you a pat on the back for your excellent deduces?” She scowled at him.

“How ‘bout you bend over and let me plant my foot up your ass.”

“Children, please!” The two went silent at Sypha’s exasperated call, and Adrian continued.

“I’ve been asleep here in my private keep under Gresit for a year,” He placed a hand over his chest, and (Y/N) caught sight of the angry red scar across his pale skin. “to heal the wounds dealt by my father when I attempted to stop him unleashing his demon armies.” Sypha’s hand lowered and she marveled,

“You are the sleeping soldier.” Adrian turned to her.

“I’m aware of the stories. I’m also aware that the Speakers consider the story to be information from the future. Do you know the whole story?” A dust of crimson touched the tips of Sypha’s cheeks, and she ignored (Y/N)’s snicker as she nodded.

“Yes.”

“The sleeping soldier will be met by a hunter and a scholar.” Trevor’s neck disappeared into his shoulders as he muttered,

“No one told me that.” (Y/N) waved him off and questioned,

“The hell am I then? Chopped liver?”

“You smell like it.” She flipped her middle finger at Trevor who snorted, and Adrian turned to her, golden eyes zeroing in on the onyx raven crest at her chest.

“A huntress from the Order of Shadows…I never expected to see one in person.” (Y/N) blinked in stunned silence. When she found her senses, she asked,

“You know the Order?” Adrian nodded.

“Only by the outstanding reputation for being protectors of the innocent and oppressed.” He eyed to silver sword in her hand. “And for being deadly in combat.” He looked back at Trevor. “I think I might’ve lost if she’d engaged me instead of you.” Trevor rolled his eyes, ignoring the barb, and Sypha took it as a chance to speak.

“Why do you think my grandfather tried everything to make you stay?” Trevor picked himself off the ground, groaning,

“I hate speakers.” The three waited for Adrian to dress, then Sypha inquired,

“So, what happens now?” Adrian shoved the scabbard into his belt.

“I need two hunters and a scholar. I need help to save Wallachia…” The sword lifted from the ground, sheathing itself. “Perhaps the world and defeat my father.” Trevor glanced at him, suspicion coloring his tone.

“Why?” Adrian’s feet stopped and he murmured,

“Because it is what my mother would have wanted…and we are all, in the end…slaves to our families wishes.” The words made (Y/N)’s heart heavy, but she ignored it, tightening the armor at her wrist.

“You’ll help us kill Dracula and save Wallachia?” The four met at the doorway, and Adrian nodded.

“My father has to die.” He glanced at them, eyes stopping to rest on (Y/N). “We four…we can destroy him.” For a moment, no one spoke, then (Y/N) pointed to the doorway, deadpanning,

“Not to break the dramatic silence here, but numbnuts broke the gears and shit coming down, so how the fuck do we get out of here?” Adrian passed her by, his eyes so focused on her, it almost made her sweat.

“Follow me.” The vampire walked ahead, Sypha following him, but the two siblings stood solemn. The two didn’t speak at first, then she whispered,

“Are you sure about this Trevor?” She looked aver at him, watching as he glared daggers into Adrian’s back.

“No…no I’m not.” (Y/N) took in a breath, then let it out.

“Well…nothing we can do about it now.” Trevor nodded, following her as she jogged to catch up with the other two. “So, Goldenrod…do you prefer Alucard or Adrian?”

#adrian tepes #adrian tepes imagines #adrian tepes x reader #adrian tepes x reader imagines #adrian tepes x reader imagine #adrian tepes fanfiction #castlevania #castlevania imagine #castlevania imagines #castlevania fanfiction #trevor belmont #sypha belnades #adrian tepes imagine

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slitter-rewinder-machine · 5 years

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arvindrubberindia · 2 years

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What is a bow roller? How does it help manufacturing industries?

In this industry-centric blog, we are going to highlight about an important industrial product, the bow expander roller.

Why bow roller is called so? Since the shape of the product is similar to a bow, it found its name from there.

In the ensuing sections, we will be covering a lot of important subjects related to the product. This blog will further expand your knowledge about the subject. Industries using the product will draw benefits from the product.

Design and construction

To begin with, let’s share a brief about the design and manufacturing of thebowed rolls. The manufacturing-industry-centric product comprises a central beam with a bow in it, while bearings are mounted across the entire roll. At the same time, it is covered with a rubber covering over the bearings. It is also called a spreader roller.

A bit about the location of the bow expander roller now. As far as their location is concerned, the product is normally located before nipped rollers. That is before and after coating stations, after size presses, before drive points, and in long web runs.

Types of bowed spreader rollers

There are numerous types of spreader rolls. The advent of technology and innovation in the field has resulted in many new designs, including:

Bowed roller

Concave roller

D-bar

Dual bowed roller

PoS-Z

How to measure the dimension?

Considering its shape, many of you might be thinking, how do manufacturing companies measure its dimension?

According to industry experts, the dimension of the bow is measured by arc height divided by roll width X 100.

Unique features of the bow roller

The bowed roll is identified with unique features that set it apart from the crowd. Here are a few unique features of the product:

Requires less maintenance

Width remains static

Resistant to abrasion

Resistant to chemicals

High tensile strength

Resistant to wear and tear

Resistant to scratching and bumping

Excellent coefficient of friction

Quickly compensates for small changes that occur in the machine's precision

Specifications

The specifications of the bowed spreader rollers vary from company to company, it primarily depends on the type of industry and requirement. Here is the standard specification of the product:

Thickness: 12 mm to 15 mm

Size: 100 mm to 600 mm

Application

From the features section, let’s now shift our focus to the application of the product. As the bow expander roller is versatile, it serves many purposes. A quality-driven product offers applications, like reducing slack ends, wiping wrinkles, spreading, slit separation, coating batching, and re-winding among others.

Industries drawing benefits and advantages from the bow roller

The bow expander roller is integral to many web handling processes as a result the product has found its use in several industries. These includes:

Textile

Plastic

Paper

Printing

Laminating

Steel

Never settle for quality

Quality makes all the difference in the production process. Subsequently, it makes sense to buy a product only from a genuine and prominent manufacturer of bowed rolls. A quality-driven product streamlines production and helps meet production goals. Therefore, being a businessman or someone occupying a senior position in a manufacturing unit, it is your responsibility to ensure that your company procures only genuine bowed rollers from a leading rubber roller manufacturer.

Conclusion

A genuine bow expander roller has the potential to scale your production process, cutting down overhead costs. For a businessman, this is an ideal situation for a business. Money saved is money earned.

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rewindingmachine · 5 years

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unwindermachine · 6 years

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jesusvasser · 6 years

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The 700 Horsepower Club

BOWLING GREEN, Kentucky — Nashville is no stranger to spectacle, a place that serves as a mecca to rhinestone-gilt pop-country singers and outlaws alike. The town, and its neon-laced Broadway District in particular, has seen everything but this: three of the most powerful production cars for sale today, all in a tidy row.

There’s nearly three-quarters of a million dollars’ worth of carbon fiber and forced induction between us, better than 2,100 horsepower split among the three. The Broadway crowd couldn’t get enough of them, taking photos and video, cheering and begging for any one of us to be delinquent enough to snap a throttle open and let our miracle engines shriek above the blaring honky-tonks. When we inevitably obliged, all eyes for two blocks were on us, the cheers nearly as loud as the drums and guitars spilling from every open bar. Behold the mad, reality-distorting power of these three goliaths of automotive engineering: the Porsche 911 GT2 RS, Chevrolet Corvette ZR1, and McLaren 720S.

These are the standard bearers for the new frontier of performance. There are more machines surpassing 700 horsepower for sale today than ever before, even now, as electrification and regulation conspire to snuff out piston-driven automobiles altogether. But a handful of manufacturers are committed to pressing the internal combustion engine relentlessly forward in a heroic and dumb and perfectly human gesture. None of these machines will give your mind the half second it takes to send a curse to your lips. Each has a way of consuming mental bandwidth and asphalt in equal proportion, gathering them until you’re forced to choose between remembering to breathe or brake. That’s what happens when there’s 700 or more horsepower tethered to your big toe, when the bolt to 60 mph takes less than 3 seconds, and when 150 mph snaps past in a blink.

We spent three days in these cars. Three days ripping around the gorgeous and twisting asphalt south of Nashville, hunting out perfect, lonely two-lane apexes and ragged ridge sides trying to wrap our minds around these machines. At times they didn’t seem real, but rather a fantasy dreamt of across decades, an unrealistic vision of performance not long ago reserved for true racing sports cars. Performance levels and experiences that for most of the automobile’s history were off limits to all but officially licensed professional race drivers, those talented men and women who were at times left grasping for ways to explain to the rest of us just what true speed is all about.

The GT2 RS is the sharpest point of the model’s history, the notion of a 911 drawn out to its wildest fulfillment.

To that end we stopped at the National Corvette Museum’s Motorsports Park (MSP) in Bowling Green, Kentucky. It’s not a track that forgives transgressions. The full course shoves 23 turns into 3.15 miles, the asphalt a rippling ribbon that works its way up and over the rolling countryside. Blind crests and close barriers mean a mistake might cost you more than some body panels. But where else can you get to know the upper capabilities of cars like these? Their limits are so far beyond the bounds of public-road legality that to explore even some small fraction of them requires the freedom only an open track provides.

We added water to the 911’s reservoir as needed then hit Broadway and felt plenty cool ourselves.

It was 80 degrees at 8 a.m., the midsummer humidity a heavy exhale on our skin. Aesthetically, the cars could not be more different. The 911 GT2 RS might be the sleeper of the bunch despite its wild, exposed carbon-fiber wing, fender vents, and NACA ducts. The car is gorgeous, but only in the way that all 911s are. To anyone unfamiliar with the smattering of letters and numbers stuck to the doors and tail, it might simply look like another Porsche. That’s a shame, because as of this moment, it is the sharpest point of the model’s history, the notion of a 911 drawn out to its wildest fulfillment.

The GT2 RS is more than that blistering engine, a modified version of the 3.8-liter twin-turbo flat-six found in the 911 Turbo S. Larger turbos, more boost, a unique intake, and new pistons help produce 700 hp and 553 lb-ft of torque, but less obvious tricks borrowed from Porsche’s motorsports arm make the car a functional weapon. Steel ball joints in place of the usual rubber suspension bushings throughout, dynamic engine mounts, and control arms robbed from the 911 GT3 RS help make all that power usable. And massive Michelin Sport Cup 2 R tires, essentially the same compound as the Corvette wore. The rears are 325/30-R21, the exact size as found on Porsche’s hyper 918 Spyder.

If the GT2 RS appears familiar, the 720S looks and sounds like the future. Low and tidy with beautiful, organic curves, it is not ostentatious or brash in the way so many supercars are. Dipped in our tester’s dark blue paint, it reeks instead of quiet competence, an impression that’s only underscored by its 4.0-liter twin-turbo V-8 with 710 hp and 568 lb-ft, numbers that help give it the best power-to-weight ratio of the three. It is a machine that has nothing to prove— until it’s time to prove it.

The ZR1 is a shout by comparison, its tall, vented hood hiding a 6.2-liter supercharged V-8 good for 755 hp and 715 lb-ft. In this group of hammers, this is the sledge. And with its wild, canard-laden fascia and towering rear wing, it wants everyone within a city block to know it. It needs the power. At 3,560 pounds, the ZR1 weighs 319 pounds more than the Porsche and is heavier than the McLaren by 432. The fact it is here at all is a marvel. Chevrolet has made a habit of punching above its weight with the Corvette, but this car takes that American notion to a new plane. As equipped, it costs less than half of either of its more svelte rivals.

As we watched from the flag tower, Pilgrim lit the Chevy’s fuse, the V-8 snapping at the sky like glory as he ran out the half-mile straight. By Turn 10, the car’s hazard lights were flashing. It wasn’t until he returned to the pits that we figured out why. The repeated, abrupt change in lateral g force was enough to trick the car’s OnStar system into thinking Pilgrim had collided with something. He spent the lap yelling over the screaming exhaust, trying to convince the nice lady on the other end of the line that he was just fine, all while on his way to a lap of 2:08.77. The time was still exceptionally fast considering the ambient temperature was now in the 90s, and it landed the ZR1 smack between the GT2 RS and 720S. Pilgrim had, weeks before, set MSP’s official production car track record of 2:05.59 in a different ZR1; he put the time difference on this run down to seeing lower speeds on the straights, most likely due to the temperature being 35 degrees hotter, and this test car’s automatic transmission not always giving him the lower gears he wanted. (He set the lap record in a manual-gearbox car.)

The Porsche recorded the fastest time, an impressive 2:05.92, just more than 0.3 second off the lap record. The GT2 RS’ power was seemingly unaffected by the brutally hot conditions, thanks in part to its system that sprays the intercoolers with cooling water.

Three cars, and three philosophies—front engine, mid engine, and rear engine—prove equally thrilling at speed.

On this day, the McLaren set the slowest lap of the three, for several reasons. First, Pilgrim only had a chance to do one timed lap, 2:12.06, before a thunder cell rolled over the horizon, the only thing more powerful for miles. Additionally, in the 720S Pilgrim felt a lack of aerodynamic downforce compared to both the Chevrolet and the Porsche, which are similar to each other in terms of their downforce-to-speed ratio. The 720S also sports narrower wheels and tires, which result in almost 20 percent less rubber on the road. Plus, this particular car’s tires were the less sticky Pirelli P Zero Corsas, not the optional Pirelli Trofeo R tire. The harder tires alone probably gave away 2 seconds or so to its playmates, especially at a place like MSP, which features numerous long, sweeping turns. Pilgrim believed the 720S would run close to the ZR1’s time with the stickier tires; even on the Corsas, he would have probably clocked a 2:10 if he’d had a chance to run a second hot lap.

The lap times, though, are irrelevant to the fun. With the three cars clawing and ripping their way around corners, it was hard to tell what was lightning and what was a downshift, the bark of both echoing off of the buildings behind us.

These cars are the mechanical deep end, and with that in mind, I belted into the ZR1. From the driver’s seat, the only indication you’re in something other than a standard C7 Corvette is the towering hood rising up from the cowl and turning the windshield into a thin slit. It’s like looking at the scenery from between the folds of a bandanna—the outlaw’s view. On the track, Turn 3 opens up into a long straight, followed by an easy right, and the sight of that wide road was too much temptation. I planted the throttle, the supercharger got busy cramming Kentucky air into those eight eager cylinders, and the world cracked wide.

These aren’t wild rabid dogs. They are playful big cats, happy to have their bellies rubbed, but with fangs as long as your middle finger.

The thrust was eye-widening and lung-arresting, a brief moment of traction loss followed by an eruption. I was upon the right-hander in a blink, positive I’d overcooked the thing. I tucked in anyway, and by the grace of General Motors, the car obliged. That’s the real miracle of the ZR1. It’s not some knuckle-dragging hot rod. It’s simply more Corvette in every way. There’s more power. More grip. The massive carbon-ceramic brake rotors have no problem bringing the machine back to sane speeds after dipping a toe into the car’s ludicrous acceleration. But there’s the sense that this is the Corvette pulled taut, all of the performance Chevy can possibly squeeze from the platform. This tester’s optional eight-speed automatic transmission delivers quick shifts, but they sometimes lack the immediacy this engine deserves, and the gearbox, as Pilgrim noted, doesn’t always yield the requested shift, especially when temperatures are blazing hot. Both the 720S and the GT2 RS benefit from seven-speed dual-clutch gearboxes.

Extracting maximum performance requires a maximum driver, seen here getting ready to engage the afterburners.

Wherever you might choose to uncork these devils, the downforce levels—until relatively recently not something significant when discussing road cars—are a more important variable to consider. The GT2 RS arrived in its most aggressive aerodynamic configuration, the same one it used to blister the Nürburgring on its way to the production car lap record (a lap of 6:47.3, bested just weeks ago by a Lamborghini Aventador SVJ at 6:44.9), and at 124 mph it generates 313 pounds of downforce. That’s more than double what the present 911 GT3 manages, and on a quick layout, it matters. Like a race car, the faster the GT2 RS goes, the stickier it gets.

It was a strange thing to step from the Corvette to the 911. The ZR1 is fast around a track, but it requires a certain amount of daring from the gambling end of your lizard brain. The GT2 RS is a wicked enabler, effortlessly quick. Swinging the car through NCM’s decreasing-radius, off-camber challenge of Turn 6 at what I thought was the upper limit of adhesion, the Porsche strolled through without so much as a twitch of its wide hips. Given the lack of an engine over its front axle, the steering is delicious and immediate. The brakes, also carbon ceramics, have near-perfect pedal feel. The power is one long, zealous pull, free of the peak and twitch that earned this car’s old 930 predecessor its dark nickname: Witwenmacher. Widow maker. It all combines to create the most confidence-inspiring machine of the litter, whether you drive it on a public road or a closed course. Whoever imagined saying such a thing about a 700-hp, rear-drive 911?

Gorgeous in green, the new Porsche 911 GT2 RS is one of the world’s most devastating road cars.

The only thing that could pry me from the German’s seat throughout our three days of Kentucky and Tennessee touring and raging was the promise of the 720S. Of all the brazenly capable cars on hand, the McLaren is the least orthodox. Its cockpit is open and airy, and the windscreen wraps around you like a bubble that sits as far to the center of the vehicle as possible. As for the track, Pilgrim offered a word of advice: “It doesn’t have the grip of the other two.”

Nor should it, due to the less gooey rubber and lower downforce. But these tires are perfect for this car. Of the three, none executes the sense of speed as well as the 720S. The world wraps past the big, open windshield in a blur, the gasp and thrust of the engine in your ear. And it’s playful because it isn’t welded to the pavement, sliding and dancing around its perfect center, a gift of that mid-engine layout. Turn 19 is a nail-biter, an off-camber drop into what’s affectionately called The Sinkhole. The road simply falls away. It’s a tricky bit to manage for any car, but the 720S made it the most hilarious part of the track. Simply point the nose with your toe, dive down, and ride up the other side. If roller coasters were this fun, Disney World would have a line all the way to Georgia.

Once upon a time, cars like these were at home only on the track. Not so nowadays.

Most astounding is how quickly the cars coaxed us into real speed. These aren’t wild hares or rabid dogs. They are playful big cats, happy to have their bellies rubbed but with fangs as long as your middle finger and jaws strong enough to crush your skull. It’s incredible. As much as purists love to rant and rail against the heedless press of technology, the microprocessor is a godsend in these cars. Exquisite traction and stability control not only make each of them wieldable but also make them faster. There might be no better display of just what can be accomplished by the marriage of man and machine.

That’s why none of us thought twice about pointing the cars south for a run to Nashville and a day of romping around the winding two-lanes south of town. There, gunning down Natchez Trace or winding our way out toward the small town of Franklin, Kentucky, the cars showed themselves ever more impressive. Even with its buckboard spring rates, thin glass, and lightweight carpeting, the GT2 RS proved acceptably civil, thanks in part to its active dampers and switchable sport exhaust. There are compromises to be made, for sure, starting with the front trunk. Porsche hides the reservoir for the intercooler water sprayer up there, and on our hot day, there was enough condensation up front to soak one of our bags. Such is the price of dominance.

This trio should feel underwhelmed by legal speeds, but that’s not what we found whatsoever. Each is a joy to spit through traffic or waltz up a country byway. Out there, the 720S came into its own. If it is a good and fun track car, it is a blissful street car. Light and playful even at posted speed limits, it feels like real progress, how those of a certain age hoped cars would be when they gazed toward 2018 from the dim horizon of childhood. The car is also occasionally infuriating, with cabin controls that seem to have been designed by someone who has never seen or interacted with a human form. Basics like adjusting a from Performance Junk WP Feed 4 https://ift.tt/2oqd4kP via IFTTT

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jonathanbelloblog · 6 years

Text

The 700 Horsepower Club

The GT2 RS is the sharpest point of the model’s history, the notion of a 911 drawn out to its wildest fulfillment.

We added water to the 911’s reservoir as needed then hit Broadway and felt plenty cool ourselves.

Three cars, and three philosophies—front engine, mid engine, and rear engine—prove equally thrilling at speed.

These aren’t wild rabid dogs. They are playful big cats, happy to have their bellies rubbed, but with fangs as long as your middle finger.

Extracting maximum performance requires a maximum driver, seen here getting ready to engage the afterburners.

Gorgeous in green, the new Porsche 911 GT2 RS is one of the world’s most devastating road cars.

Once upon a time, cars like these were at home only on the track. Not so nowadays.

#IFTTT #Performance Junk Blogger Feed 4

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webtech-group · 1 year

Text

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eddiejpoplar · 6 years

Text

The 700 Horsepower Club

The GT2 RS is the sharpest point of the model’s history, the notion of a 911 drawn out to its wildest fulfillment.

We added water to the 911’s reservoir as needed then hit Broadway and felt plenty cool ourselves.

Three cars, and three philosophies—front engine, mid engine, and rear engine—prove equally thrilling at speed.

These aren’t wild rabid dogs. They are playful big cats, happy to have their bellies rubbed, but with fangs as long as your middle finger.

Extracting maximum performance requires a maximum driver, seen here getting ready to engage the afterburners.

Gorgeous in green, the new Porsche 911 GT2 RS is one of the world’s most devastating road cars.

Once upon a time, cars like these were at home only on the track. Not so nowadays.

#IFTTT #Performance Junk Blogger 6

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webtech-group · 2 years

Text

𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨 𝐒𝐢𝐫,

𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐖𝐄𝐁𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐇!

Established in the year 1998, “WEBTECH GROUP” is the leading Manufacturer of Wide Range of Printing and Paper Converting Machineries - Flexographic Printing Machines, Web Offset Printing Machines, Paper Slitter Rewinder Machines, E-Courier Bag & V Bottom Paper Bag Making Machines, A4 Copier Sheeter Machines, Blank Label Die Cutting Machines etc.

We are backed by some of the best brains in the country and have already spread its clientele base across the nation and also abroad in more than 40+ Countries. We are a team of more than 300 employees. We have all in-house machine shops where maximum components are manufactured in house with state of art facilities and almost all the machines are equipped with digital controls for accurate machining.

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WEBTECH GROUP has always strived to achieve 100% satisfaction of its customers, by delivering more than what our customers expect from us. We are very well aware of the importance of a well-satisfied customer who brings in repeat sales, that accounts for the existence of any company. It has always been a pleasure and an honor to serve patrons like you to whom we owe the success of this establishment. I now therefore seek continued patronage of our valued customers, cooperation & full commitment of our employees and finally thank our well-wishers who have always contributed towards the continuous growth of this organization.

𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬.

𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬

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jesusvasser · 6 years

Text

The 700 Horsepower Club

The GT2 RS is the sharpest point of the model’s history, the notion of a 911 drawn out to its wildest fulfillment.

We added water to the 911’s reservoir as needed then hit Broadway and felt plenty cool ourselves.

Three cars, and three philosophies—front engine, mid engine, and rear engine—prove equally thrilling at speed.

These aren’t wild rabid dogs. They are playful big cats, happy to have their bellies rubbed, but with fangs as long as your middle finger.

Extracting maximum performance requires a maximum driver, seen here getting ready to engage the afterburners.

Gorgeous in green, the new Porsche 911 GT2 RS is one of the world’s most devastating road cars.

Once upon a time, cars like these were at home only on the track. Not so nowadays.

#IFTTT #Performance Junk WP Feed 4

0 notes

jonathanbelloblog · 6 years

Text

The 700 Horsepower Club

The GT2 RS is the sharpest point of the model’s history, the notion of a 911 drawn out to its wildest fulfillment.

We added water to the 911’s reservoir as needed then hit Broadway and felt plenty cool ourselves.

Three cars, and three philosophies—front engine, mid engine, and rear engine—prove equally thrilling at speed.

These aren’t wild rabid dogs. They are playful big cats, happy to have their bellies rubbed, but with fangs as long as your middle finger.

Extracting maximum performance requires a maximum driver, seen here getting ready to engage the afterburners.

Gorgeous in green, the new Porsche 911 GT2 RS is one of the world’s most devastating road cars.

Once upon a time, cars like these were at home only on the track. Not so nowadays.

#IFTTT #Performance Junk Blogger Feed 4

0 notes