#Alluminum coating

[sandblasting17]

How to Protect Cement Plant Structures from Corrosion and Its Benefits

Introduction

Cement plants operate in highly aggressive environments, where exposure to moisture, chemicals, and extreme temperatures leads to corrosion of steel structures, pipelines, and machinery. Corrosion can significantly impact the longevity, efficiency, and safety of a cement plant. Implementing effective corrosion protection strategies is crucial to maintaining operational efficiency and reducing maintenance costs.

Causes of Corrosion in Cement Plants

Several factors contribute to corrosion in cement plant structures:

High Humidity & Moisture: The presence of water accelerates corrosion, especially in areas with high humidity or frequent exposure to rain.

Acidic and Alkaline Environments: Cement production involves exposure to chemicals such as sulfur dioxide, chlorides, and carbon dioxide, which can lead to acid corrosion.

High Temperatures: Extreme heat causes thermal stress on metal structures, leading to cracks and oxidation.

Abrasive Materials: Dust and particulate matter can wear down protective coatings, making metal surfaces more vulnerable.

Electrochemical Reactions: Exposure to different metals and stray electrical currents can cause galvanic corrosion.

Methods for Protecting Cement Plant Structures from Corrosion

To ensure long-term durability and reliability, several corrosion protection techniques should be employed:

1. Thermal Spray Coating (TSA & TSZ)

Thermal spray aluminum (TSA)coating and thermal spray zinc (TSZ) coatings create a strong protective barrier against corrosion. These coatings are particularly effective in harsh industrial environments.

2. Galvanizing

Hot-dip galvanizing applies a protective zinc layer to steel structures, preventing rust formation. This method provides long-term corrosion resistance, especially in outdoor installations.

3. Protective Paint Coatings

Applying high-performance industrial coatings, such as epoxy, polyurethane, and alkyd paints, helps to create an impermeable shield against moisture and chemicals.

4. Cathodic Protection

This method uses sacrificial anodes or impressed current systems to prevent corrosion by directing electric currents that neutralize oxidation reactions on metal surfaces.

5. Sealants and Waterproofing

Using sealants and waterproof coatings on concrete and steel structures reduces the penetration of water and chemicals, slowing down corrosion.

6. Regular Maintenance & Inspections

Routine inspections and preventive maintenance allow early detection of corrosion, helping to address potential issues before they escalate into costly repairs.

7. Environmental Controls

Installing proper ventilation systems and using dehumidifiers in enclosed spaces can help reduce humidity and moisture levels, slowing corrosion progression.

Benefits of Corrosion Protection

1. Extended Equipment Lifespan

Implementing corrosion protection methods increases the durability of structures and equipment, reducing the frequency of replacements.

2. Reduced Maintenance Costs

Preventive measures significantly lower maintenance costs compared to reactive repairs and replacements due to structural failures.

3. Enhanced Safety & Compliance

Corrosion can weaken structures, leading to accidents and operational hazards. Protecting against corrosion ensures compliance with safety regulations and reduces risks to workers.

4. Improved Operational Efficiency

Corrosion-resistant equipment operates more efficiently, reducing downtime and enhancing production output.

5. Cost Savings in the Long Run

While corrosion protection requires an initial investment, it minimizes costly repairs, equipment failures, and unplanned downtime, resulting in significant savings.

6. Environmental Benefits

By prolonging the life of structures and equipment, corrosion protection reduces waste and the environmental impact of frequent material replacements.

Conclusion

Corrosion in cement plant structures can lead to significant financial and operational setbacks if not addressed properly. By implementing effective corrosion protection strategies such as thermal spray coatings, galvanizing, protective paints, and regular maintenance, cement plants can extend equipment lifespan, reduce costs, and ensure safer operations. Investing in corrosion protection is not just about preventing deterioration—it’s about safeguarding the future of the plant’s infrastructure and ensuring long-term profitability.

[anticorrosionblog]

Enhancing Performance and Durability with Thermal Spray Aluminum Coating

Introduction

In the realm of industrial coatings, Thermal Spray Aluminum (TSA) emerges as a remarkable solution, offering a plethora of benefits ranging from corrosion resistance to increased lifespan. This innovative technique involves the application of aluminum coatings onto various surfaces using a high-velocity thermal spray process. In this article, we will delve into the world of Thermal Spray Aluminum coating, exploring its applications, advantages, and the impact it has on industries worldwide.

The Process of Thermal Spray Aluminum Coating

Thermal Spray Aluminum coating is a process that involves the melting of aluminum particles and propelling them at high speeds onto a substrate using a specialized gun. The melted aluminum solidifies upon impact, creating a uniform and dense coating. This process ensures excellent adhesion and minimal porosity, which are crucial factors in achieving a highly effective protective barrier.

Applications of Thermal Spray Aluminum Coating

Corrosion Protection: One of the most significant advantages of TSA coating is its exceptional corrosion resistance. Aluminum forms a naturally occurring oxide layer that acts as a protective barrier against environmental elements, making it ideal for offshore structures, pipelines, and industrial equipment that are exposed to harsh weather conditions.

Aerospace Industry: In the aerospace sector, weight reduction is paramount for fuel efficiency and performance. TSA coatings provide a lightweight solution with exceptional thermal and corrosion resistance properties. This makes it a popular choice for components like landing gear, engine parts, and airframes.

Oil and Gas Industry: In an industry where equipment is subjected to extreme conditions, such as high temperatures, corrosive substances, and abrasive materials, TSA coatings play a crucial role. They are used on pipelines, valves, and other components to extend their operational lifespan.

Automotive Industry: TSA coatings find extensive application in the automotive sector for components like exhaust systems, mufflers, and other parts exposed to high temperatures and corrosive environments. The coating enhances durability and ensures optimal performance.

Infrastructure and Marine Applications: Bridges, offshore platforms, and marine vessels are constantly exposed to corrosive elements like salt water and harsh weather conditions. TSA coatings provide a cost-effective and durable solution to protect these vital structures.

Advantages of Thermal Spray Aluminum Coating

Corrosion Resistance: The primary advantage of TSA coatings is their exceptional resistance to corrosion. The protective oxide layer formed on the surface of the aluminum provides an effective barrier against environmental elements.

Uniform Coverage: The thermal spray process ensures a uniform and dense coating, eliminating the risk of pinholes or gaps that can compromise protection.

High Adhesion Strength: The high-velocity impact of aluminum particles ensures excellent adhesion to the substrate, resulting in a long-lasting and durable coating.

High-Temperature Resistance: TSA coatings are capable of withstanding high temperatures, making them suitable for applications where heat resistance is essential.

Cost-Effectiveness: Compared to alternatives like galvanizing or painting, TSA coatings offer a cost-effective solution with superior longevity, reducing the need for frequent maintenance or replacement.

Environmentally Friendly: TSA coatings are free from hazardous solvents or chemicals, making them an environmentally sustainable choice.

Conclusion

Thermal Spray Aluminum coating has revolutionized the way industries approach corrosion protection and durability enhancement. Its remarkable properties, including corrosion resistance, uniform coverage, and high adhesion strength, make it an invaluable solution across various sectors, from aerospace to automotive and beyond.

As industries continue to seek sustainable and cost-effective alternatives to traditional coating methods, TSA coatings stand out as a reliable choice. Their ability to prolong the lifespan of critical components, reduce maintenance costs, and improve overall performance makes them a cornerstone of modern engineering and manufacturing practices.

In an era where efficiency and sustainability are paramount, Thermal Spray Aluminum coating represents a significant step forward in ensuring the longevity and reliability of industrial equipment and infrastructure around the world.

To know more about thermal spray aluminum coating contact us 

http://madhumetallizing.com

[sillysootyboi]

C!tntduo/c!Quackbur drabbles 420 edition

(assume !c/!q for all ideas please)

+Quackity would be a sensual/cuddly high one. Gotta drop those defenses being the overly workaholic

+Schlatt tried and failed to introduce Q to weed. Mostly, because Schlatt was so sappy and sweet while high and he realized that and immediately reversed his entire policy and claimed "God fearing Catholic men don't smoke weed" before eating way too many edibles not five minutes later in an attempt to get rid of the evidence.

+Tommy and Tubbo witnessing this became firm on their anti drug (or honestly, just anti whatever the fuck Schlatt was on--he was just a poor autistic sheep man way too high)

+Wilbur introduced it to Quackity with 'evil' plans to get Q's defenses down and break into Las Nevada's, but Q had a genuine moment of sensitivity and vulnerability while high, that Wilbur immediately dropped the plans and instead consoled him

+"I'm always worried you'll leave me," Quackity says. "you're rotten for me. You make me worse, but at least you're here. Unless I'm in the mood to seance Schlatt or--Ha, I don't know. What I did to Slime was fucked up, huh....Bet you cannot relate. Did you ever think Tommy would turn out like this?"

"Tommy is better than me. Better than us."

"he's fucking traumatized, asshole. He isn't better, it just hasn't kicked in."

Wilbur laughs. There isn't humor, only a dry creaking sound.

"you got me high to get in. Didn't you?"

"caught me red handed. What can I say, never a good deed for free."

"but yet here you are, fucking sitting beside me in the hallway. We're only 3 doors down from the bathroom. 2 pathetic grown as men in a casino hallway, sitting on their asses on cheap carpet that barely covers the concrete below. I had to fucking cut costs somewhere. I'm already underpaying Foolish as is." Quackity huffs and tangles a hand through his hair.

"neither of us look successful." Quackity states.

"in the shiny glitzy gold on your walls--"

"it's a type of cheap alluminum. Not thick at all. But makes it look fancy."

"Our reflections, Alex. All tarnished and darkened by gold."

"You're worse high," Quackity says and leans against Wilbur.

Forget everything you know about zombies. That they're supposed to be cold. Dead. Men who come back from the dead should be more obviously wrong. But he isn't. Other than the white streak, and darkening depression circles under his eyes, he's not a dead man. Like he should be. He's warm under Quackiy's cheek where it presses against his ratty coat.

"so are you. You're honest," Wilbur says. "scared."

"I'm not scared." Stubborn.

"you asked why I wouldn't leave..." Wilbur starts. Considers his words. Looks at his hands.

Too long passes.

"it's times ike this i remember you care. And you hurt for it. And I don't want to be the one to hurt you."

Those red-tinged brown eyes, more amber, more akin to the shiny backside of a beetle. Something that was a part of nature but off-putting all the same.

"but...you know me..places to be. People to see," Wilbur pushes himself up. A full rest passes.

And with the down beat on two he says, "You don't have to worry. Your secret is safe with me. That there's a human inside that corporate shell."

And there's another one in Wilbur too. Hiding in the shadow of Phil and Techno, on the other side of the same coin as Dream... A figure so clearly him. But so well concealed.

[forlornmelody]

Trust Exercise

Rating: E (Smut with some plot, for flavor.)

Fandom(s): DC Comics

Ship: Poison Ivy/Harley Quinn

Linkage: Ao3

Summary: Harley wants to try something new, but Ivy isn't sure her girlfriend is ready to see that part of her.

Note: Commission for @rookie009. Dude, thank you so much for commissioning me again. And insisting I write my faves. <3

->->->

Ivy’s in the lab when Harley finds her, nose-deep in an experiment she’s been running all day. “Oh, hey, babe. Did you get my text?”

“Mmhm.” Harley’s hands grasp her shoulders, her fingers meandering past the collar of her lab coat. 

“So, you know that I can’t do date night tonight.” Harley’s lips find her cheek, then her ear, and the tissue culture Ivy’s been working on for the past hour slips from her fingers. 

“Sure you can.” Her lips meander down her neck, as Ivy stares at the ruined culture with both horror and... arousal. Something hot roils in her belly, and Ivy stifles it as she turns around. 

“Harley. How many times do I have to tell you--”

“Mm. You’re even more pretty when you’re angry.” Harley grabs Ivy by the lapel of her lab coat, pulling her in for a kiss. The jungle surrounding the lab roils as if shaken in a gale force wind. 

Ivy breathes her in, and pushes her back, holding her girlfriend at arm’s length. “Harl, if you want me to tie you up, you only need to ask.”

Harley flushes, biting her lip as she glances away. Ivy draws her attention back with a finger under her chin. “Do you want me to tie you up?”

“Ives…”

“Harleen Francis Quinzel, I promise you I won’t ask again.”

“Yes!” Harley says quickly.

“Yes, what?”

“Tie me up.” Harleen swallows, her tongue darting out to wet her lip. 

“And?”

Her skin blushes pink as one of her pigtails, and Ivy almost doesn’t hear her. 

“What?”

“I said use your vines.”

“You sure?” The words fall out of Ivy’s mouth before she realizes what she’s asking. Sure, she’s usually the dominant one in bed--Ivy knows what she likes and how to ask for it. But this...Damnit, Pamela. What if this is too much? What if being tied up and used reminds her too much of…. Ivy doesn’t even think his name. She just conjures up an image in her head and sets it on fire. 

“Ives?” Harley says, her eyes widening and her mouth shrinking into a small oh. 

“Sorry?” 

“You okay, Pam-a-lamb?” Harley brushes her thumb across Ivy’s cheek, pushing a wisp of hair out of the way. God, she must look like a mess right now. 

“Of course!” she lies, and a nearby fittonia albivenis wilts in protest. Charlie, as she liked to call him, always is a dramatic asshole. “Go on.”

“You sure? Cause George doesn’t look so good.”

“Charlie.” Ivy sighs, rubbing her forehead.  “His name is Charlie.” She nods over at the opposite corner, where a helianthus annuus, commonly known as a sunflower, is giving her a judgmental stare. “That’s George.” 

“Daisy Girl...if the plants are upset, you must be upset.” Harley Quinn leans closer, so Ivy has to meet her eyes. “You can’t lie to a therapist, remember?”

“I can try,” Ivy mutters. 

“I know you too well, Pam-jam. Now tell me what’s eatin’ ya.”

Now, Doctor Pamela Isley could uncover her sordid history with her parents, charm school, the nice conservative respectable university her parents sent her off to--the one she dropped out of and ran away from, the respectable open minded one she graduated from, the mentor who ruined her and created her, and the day they met in Arkham, but Harley already knows she doesn’t dump her past out of the trash can for everyone to see, especially when there’s a bed in sight, metaphorically speaking. God, what a buzzkill that would be. “I want to believe you, Harls. When you say you want this.” Ivy presses her thumb into Harley’s bottom lip. “But how do I know you’re not just saying this to make me happy?” Like she always would with...well. 

“Easy. You trust me.”

Does she? 

The powder-mix lemonade crashes against the opposite wall, barely missing her therapist’s head. “Stop fucking analyzing me. I’m not your rat.”

Dr. Quinzel doesn’t defend herself or argue against the insult. “You’ve good aim.” She does, however, flinch. Something twists in Ivy’s gut. At first, she thinks the Morton’s cafeteria slop has turned sour yet again, but Ivy notices the feeling runs deeper this time, and it spreads like frost throughout her middle, all the way to her lungs. “Softball?”

Fucking hell. She’s feeling remorse. “Gymnastics.” The answer spills out of Ivy’s mouth before she can stop it. 

And then Dr. Quinzel’s face lights up like a Christmas tree. “Me too! Did you compete? Which team?” 

Ivy spills some more, and they swap memories, apparently having crossed paths without remembering the other at one point or another. Not that Dr. Quinzel would have ever recognized Dr. Pamela Isley when she was a tween with braces and an awkward smile. Or Dr. Isley would have remembered Dr. Quinzel was a spirited overachiever with a chip on her shoulder. Actually, Pamela takes that back. She can see some of it now. She also notices Dr. Quinzel’s hands intertwined with her own. And the warmth between them. 

 “Please, call me Harleen.” Harleen smiles shyly, biting her lip. 

Ivy gulps. “Do all your patients get to call you that?”

And just like that the moment’s gone. But Ivy’s hands feel warm long after Dr. Isley has left the room. 

->->->

Ivy should have known this was a set up. The security guard missing from his post. The alarms turned off. The dark room where the lights should have had motion sensors and generator backup. She should have turned back the moment she noticed, but she couldn’t leave this warehouse like this. Not with one of two middlemist camellias sitting inside, ripped from its soil in New Zealand and brought to Gotham for a filthy auction.

The moment Ivy touches the leaves the door slams shut behind her, and she notices the sealant sprayed on all the windows. Oh no. A hose hisses on the floor, and Ivy slowly feels the air being sucked from the room. No. No. No. Not like this.

There’s no chair, no bat, nothing to break the windows with. Just Dr. Pamela Isley and the lonely Middlemist’s Red that will die with her. Pam closes her eyes, and tries not to hyperventilate, counting her breaths just like Harley taught her—

“NOT TODAY ASSHATS.” Glass shards rain on the floor, and an alluminum bat clangs against the concrete floor. “Pambsel?” Soft fingers touch her shoulder. “Ivy? Come on, Ivy. Stay with me.”

“Ivy?” Harley’s staring at her in their bedroom, her eyebrows lifted in concern.

“I trust you more than anyone else.”

Harley brushes her lips against hers. “And I trust you more than a stripper trusts her heels.”

“God.” Ivy chortles despite herself. “That’s terrible, Harley. Maybe I should keep you from talking.” Those words sound so...different once they’re out of her mouth. Like cinnamon candy burning on her lips. 

For once, Harleen Francis Quinnzel has nothing to say. Her mouth hangs slightly open, to the point that Ivy wants to trace it with her fingertip, maybe slip her finger past those lips to see Harley suck on— “Would you?” Harley whispers, blushing as pink as one of her pigtails. 

“I’d love to.” It’s a little unnerving how easily this comes to her. “But there’s only one thing.”

“What’s that?” Harley leans closer, her hands grasping at Ivy’s clothes, pleading without pleading. 

“What’s our safe-word?”

“Puddin’?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Batman?”

“Nope.”

“Come on, Pretty Girl. You’re killin’ me here.”

“It has to be a word we both agree to, Harley. Rules are rules.”

“Says who?” Harley leans in close, her hands on her hips. 

Ivy smirks at her, whispering in her ear. “Says the woman who is about to give you a night you won’t forget.”

At this point, Ivy half expects Harley to say Arkham, but she doesn’t. “Robinson Park.” 

It’s Ivy’s turn to lose her words. Of course, Harley would name her old hideout. Well. Not just any old hideout. The place where they first kissed. “That’s--that’s two words.”

Harley grins proudly, pressing a soft kiss against her cheek. “Does that break the rules, Rosey Cheeks?”

Ivy allows it. She also allows herself to check with Harley several times as she persuades a nearby pharnera vahili to stretch towards them. The plant balks initially at the thought of making its flower buds large enough to penetrate, but Ivy mutters a quiet “Coward” and the plant swells to prove her wrong. Perhaps Peter would be a fitting name for this one? Brushing the buds, she strengthens him, hardens them, really, and shoos any creatures or enzymes that would bring harm to her favorite person in the whole world. 

“Ready, Harley?”

Harley nods, biting a grin. 

Ivy steps towards her, pinching her chin between her finger and thumb. “If this is going to work, I’m going to need you to use your words, Harleen.”

“Yes.” Harley gulps a breath of air, and she closes her eyes as if she’s about to kiss her. 

Pulling out of her reach, Ivy returns to Peter, stroking a few tendrils, feigning more interest in them than her lover. “Then remove your shorts. I’d hate to ruin them.” 

“These always were your favorite, weren’t they, Red?”

Indeed, they are. “Perhaps.” Ivy can’t help but watch them slip down Harley’s cream-colored thighs. She itches to get between them but that will have to wait. “Now lay down.”

“But--”

“It’ll be easier to secure you from the bed, trust me.”

“Always.”

Again, that itch. That burning unyielding need to touch every inch of Harley’s skin, exposed or not. This is just as much an exercise in patience for her as it is for Harley. Ivy whisks her fingers, curling the vines around Harley’s wrists and ankles. “Is that comfortable?”

Harley nods quickly, only to see Ivy quirk her eyebrow impatiently. “Yes, Ives,” she says, her breath ragged. 

“How about now?” The vines lengthen and grow, suspending Harley’s prone body in the air. Ivy wishes she could draw how beautiful Harley looks like this, her mouth parted and arched back, her legs already flushes with need. 

“Amazing.” Harley closes her eyes. “I feel like I’m floating.” 

“And what is our safe word, again?”

Harley starts to say it, only for Ivy to brush between her calves with a tendril.

“That tickles!” 

“Don’t squirm.” Ivy smirks despite herself, stroking the inside of Harley’s legs, from the bottoms of her calves to the narrowest point between her thighs, edging around her center but never quite touching it. 

Twisting in her restraints, Harley groans. “Don’t tease me, Pam-Pam.”

“I believe you asked me to tease you. Isn’t that the point?” The tendril snakes past her middle, scratching under her chin. “To make you beg for it?”

“Please.” The vine edges back down, circling her warmth, now moist with the juices dripping down her legs. 

“Please what?”

“Touch me.” She pleads, seeing Ivy’s lips pressed in a thin line. “Touch my clit.”

“That’s my girl.” Ivy resists the urge to mirror the motion of her plant. Her own thighs twitch with want. Her vine grazes Harley’s lower lips, feather light in their touch, and Ivy aches at the whimper slipping from Harley’s mouth. She keeps circling with smaller and smaller circles until Harley shakes and keens. And that’s when she drags the vine against where Harley wants her most. 

“Oh fuck. Fuckity-fuck fuck.” Harley strains against her bonds, her hips writhing against the vine. 

Ivy licks her lips. “Would you like this vine inside you?”

“Mmhm...y-yeah.” Harley’s voice breaks on the edge of her first orgasm. 

Then Ivy pulls away.

“No, Ives, please. Please touch me. I’m--I’m so close.” 

“I know, Harl.” Ives steps around the now massive bulk Peter has grown into, caressing Harley’s own cheek with the back of her own hand. God, she wants to tear off all their clothes right now and just have her way, but she can’t. Not yet. “I’m going to give you something special.” One nail presses into Harley’s cheek, enough to indent, but enough to break the skin. “Would you like to know what it is?”

Sweat glistens around Harley’s hairline as she looks back at Ivy helplessly. “Yeah.” She manages. 

Shit. She must be thirsty. “Hold on.” She snatches a water bottle, holding it to Harley’s lips. “Drink some water.” Ivy doesn’t pull the bottle away until Harley’s finished it. She downs her tea. Then she rubs her fingers together, until oily spots form on her fingertips. “This oil will heighten your sensations. Do you want it?”

Harley can’t even form words at first, but she manages. “Please, Pammin-Jammin. I need you.”

Ivy also licks her lips, her entire mouth tasting like vegetable oil, but stronger. And the oil packs some heat. Not enough to burn, but enough that she’ll need to wash her mouth out later if she’s going to focus on anything. “I need you too, Harley.” She brushes her lips against Harley’s and want hits her like a gale-force wind. With the way Harley moans into her mouth--she feels that way too. Patience. Even the quickest-growing plants need time to breathe. 

Before Harley can deepen the kiss, Ivy trails her lips down her chin, her neck, and her collar bone. She massages her shoulders, her arms, then up her sides and back down again. Ivy kisses down to her chest, avoiding Harley’s already too sensitive tits and just focusing on the valley between them, pausing a moment to listen to her quickening heartbeat. Harley squirms, and Ivy holds her steady, paying careful attention to the planes of her abdomen. Her hands move around Harley’s hips, pinching either side of her ass, covering her thighs and in between. “Oh, Ivy.”

When Ivy finishes caressing Harley’s feet, she stands up to see Harley’s face caught like a saint in a Raphaelite painting. She guides her own hands around one of the tendrils, slowly, gently penetrating her as if she were using a dildo. And when the tendril is as far in as it’ll go, Ivy grins against her ear. “Ready?”

“Mmhm,” Harley whimpers. 

Ivy snaps her fingers, and the tendril takes on life of its own, pumping in and out of her lover without any guidance from her. 

“Fuck!” Harley gasps, her wrists twisting in her bonds as she seeks purchase to rock back against the vine. “Oh, fuck that’s good.”

Ivy finds her hands drifting down towards her legs. She clenches them behind her back to hold them still. Not yet. Focus on Harley. But focusing on her and how fucked she is seems to be part of Ivy’s problem. Licking her lips, she asks, “How do you feel about anal?”

“Mm?” Harley probably means to ask, but her mm sounds more like a moan than anything else. 

Making a point of rolling her eyes, Ivy snaps her fingers a second time, and the vine pulls out of her. 

“No no no. Please. I was almost…”

“I asked you a question, Harl.” Ivy growls, more from arousal than annoyance, but Harley’s eyes widen.

“What was the question?”

“Do you.” Ivy grips Harley’s chin. “Like. Anal sex?”

 Harley’s eyes brighten and her frown morphs into an ecstatic smile. “Double penetration?” She bites her lip. “Would you?”

“I’d love to. But first.” Ivy pulls out a familiar bottle--her own recipe. She squirts a generous amount on her fingers, and ringing a circle around Harley’s butt hole, and then little by little, probing inside with her finger. “Good girl,” she whispers in Harley’s ear. Her lover starts to tense up, and Ivy holds her hip firmly with her other hand. “Relax. You are the most amazing person I’ve ever known, and you have done the impossible time and time again.” 

“You...you really think t-that?”

“I know that, Harley.” Her finger gets pulled deeper inside, and Ivy works her open gently, as Harley’s eyes glaze over and her mouth drops open. “And tonight, I’m going to make you feel how amazing you are. Do you trust me?”

“Mm. Y-yeah.”

“Then you’re gonna take more for me.” Ivy whispers, taking Harley’s lobe between her teeth. Harley shudders and nods, and Ivy, slowly, gently, and with more oil, adds a second finger. 

“Nn--Ivy, Oh god. Please. I--I need.”

“Need what?”

“More.” 

“More what?”

Harley moans--whimpers in reply, “I---make me come,” she begs, sprawled in mid-air, and Ivy raises her free hand to pull the prepared vines. “Pam-Pam, please.” She croaks. “Please, Pamela.”

The vine droops just inches from Harley’s hips.

“Pamela Isley!” Mrs. Saint-Claire always pops the p in Pamela’s name, and spittle flies out of her mouth. How many times do I have to tell you!” Those skeletal hands jerk her shoulders back. “Back straight! Like a puppet on a string!” Pam’s so tired. She just wants to go home. Well, maybe not home. “And smile for once! It won’t kill you.” Mrs. Saint-Claire yanks her wild curls into a peppy poiny tail. “How are you going to win a man like this?”

“Pam-pam?” Harley’s looking back at her, her eyes still dark with want and pleasure, but her eyebrows are lifted in concern.

Maybe Ivy should hold back, more. What if she goes too far? But Harley would tell her. She’d say the word. She doesn’t pretend, not in bed, not unless that’s...well. Maybe it would be nice to pretend. A different time, perhaps. 

“I’m still here,” Pamela says more to herself than Harley, and she refreshes that vine until it’s erect and moving again. “Are you?” She coats the vine slick with oil, and she slips her fingers out completely. 

“Yes, yes, please.”

“Then take it.” The vine enters her slowly, filling her already stretched hole, pumping in tandem with the other in her cunt. And fuck it, Ivy reaches down and touches her own center, hissing at how sensitive she is already. 

“Yes, yes, yes!!” Harley’s always been loud in bed, but she’s never screamed like this. Ivy smirks, directing a third vine to mimic the motions on Harley’s clit that Ivy’s already doing to her own. And oh, Harley shakes, rattles, so full and so hung she can’t move, only ride the wave as the vines move in and out and around her. “Fuck yes.”

“Are you close, Harley?”

“Y-yeah….” And then her eyes shut, and her mouth forms a silent oh, and her body jerks, clenching around the vines.

“That’s my girl.” And Ivy brings her down slowly until Harley relaxes, and she pulls the vines away, untying her wrists and ankles and holding her close. “How’re you feeling, Harls?”

Her lover doesn’t answer at first, nestled against Ivy’s breast, her eyes distant and warm. “Thank you.” Harley nestles into her breast, breathing her in. “I feel amazing, as promised.” She giggles, and Ivy’s so busy laughing with her to notice the hand creeping towards her now naked legs. “Oooooo. What’s this?”

Ivy gasps, unable to help her moan at Harley’s touch. “Harley, you don’t have to--”

“Jesus fuck, you’re wet. Why didn’ you say somethin’?” Harley toys with her, circling her engorged clit and playing with her labia.

Ivy can’t bring herself to her own defense, too focused on how nice Harley’s fingers feel. She squirms, gripping Harley’s shoulders. “Harley--”

“Shh. C’mere. Lemme return the favor.” And then Harley lays back on a newly formed flower bed. With strength Ivy didn’t think she’d have at this point; Harley pulls Ivy’s thighs towards her face. 

“You sure?”

“Isely you’ve gotta stop asking me that.” She tilts her head up, kissing the inside of Ivy’s thigh. “I love you. Of course, I’m sure.” Her lips drift toward Ivy’s center, half-cleaning up the mess they’ve made, half-making it worse. 

Biting her lip, Ivy swallows her gasps, trying to hold on. “Harl, I--” Oh. It’s like she’s never felt another’s mouth on her, though clearly Harley (among others) have been down more than she can count. 

“Shh,” Harley manages to say between long licks. She edges the tip of her tongue around her clit, drinking her in without drying her up. Fuck, she still has pleasure oil on her tongue. Not as strong as at first, but Ivy doesn’t need that strength. 

Maybe that’s what love is. Trust that the other person won’t let you fall when you step too far off the ledge. Someone to hold your hand when you do fall, so you can fall down together. Someone to pick you back up. “Harley, I need--oh.” Ivy groans.

“‘S okay, Ives. Ride me.”

Ivy doesn’t need to be told twice. She grinds down, not so hard as to smother Harley, but enough to feel her mouth that much more. Oh god, fuck, she’s sucking her clit and--

When Ivy comes to, she’s lying on her side, with Harley playing the big spoon. “Holy shit, Harley,” she says, her mouth dry as cotton. 

“Your turn,” Harley shoves the water bottle in her face, and Ivy drinks it dry. “Not bad, eh?”

“Not bad at all.”

[zrscottz-blog]

The Pilot

I was the pilot of a C 130 transporting a giant squid to the museum of natural history in New York City. Several scientists from prestigious universities and federal agencies were on board the sixteen hour flight from Santiago, Chile. They were thrilled at the prospect of studying the giant, ten legged cephalopod. The behemoth of the southern Pacific. Two male scientists, biologists from a research facility in northwest Germany couldn't wait for the eventual landing and complex transport. They convinced the lead scientist, Hans Brenner to allow them access to the custom-built tank in the cargo hold of the airplane.

"Ve only vant to zee zee eyes doctor, and our research is highly sensiteev, as you know. Vee von't deesturb the creature, just a peak before zee uzzers." The two men eagerly awaited permission while I attempted to unscramble their foreign accents.

Dr. Brenner waved the two scientists away and continued the conversation he'd been having on a state of the art satellite phone.

"Two hundered thousand dollars!", Brenner protested.

"You have got to be kidding me Alfred, these people wouldn't know what to do with that kind of money!"

I overheard the doctor's exchange and it piqued my curiosity. It turned out he was discussing the payment which the tiny fishing village off Argentina's southern coast desired for having caught the giant squid. I imagined what that kind of windfall could do for an impoverished village, possibly expanding educational programs and improving on their crumbling infrastructure. There had been strange lizards, rabid jackals, and exotic penguin species upon the villages one-lane, dirt and gravel runway. Nobody was qualified to man the ancient radio in their tiny control tower. Arrival and departure was quite treacherous, a mission I decided was worth undertaking. These scientists had a huge grant from NYC. I began to envision a brighter future for the hardworking people as Brenner relented on the phone.

I began counting my blessings, grateful for all the opportunities I'd been given in life

Cumulus, white, pom-pom shaped clouds began to crest the horizon, casting shadown across my cockpit as I recounted my harrowing adventures and looked back on my life. A wave of nostalgic contentment rushed over me while I thought of my time in the armed services and my time throughout flight school. I was good at my job and I enjoyed it immensely. I couldn't imagine a different path for me and I shut my eyes for a moment. The hum of the aircrafts propellers buoyed me and i fell into a cozy slumber.

It could not have been long before I was awakened by the altitude change and my ears began to pop uncomfortably. My instrument panel was going haywire and an irritating alarm was sounding.

"WHAT IN THE HELL IS GOING ON AIRMAN?" In my daze I looked up to see Dr. Brenner's terrified, stricken face. Quickly, I adjusted the throttle, eased the control collumn back, and steadied the twenty-ton airplane, sweat beading upon my brow.

In my thirteen years transporting hazardous, often classified materials, this dozing had occurred just a handful of times. Only once did any loss of life occur. I was forced to conduct an emergency landing on the busy highway 101 skirting Los Angeles. Miraculously, I emerged from the wreckage unscathed. My cargo however did not evade the grim reaper. Sixty seven FBI recruits were unlucky and perished on impact. Fortunately, there were insurance policies in place to protect against such a tragedy and after a short investigation, some national media coverage, and a stint inside Army's psych-tech unit I was permitted to resume flying.

I felt exhilirated by this current close call and explained to the good doctor,

"Everything is fine, relax, and please take your seat."

Brenner looked worried but retreated back into the aircraft to rejoin his collegues, muttering under his breath.

Some coffee was certainly in order at this junction and I called back to the doctor,

"Hey Brenner!"

He peaked his face back into the cockpit.

"How about a cup a joe, will ya?"

The blank stare across his countenance told me he didn't take kindly to requests from a mere pilot like me, but I knew he'd fetch the coffee. After all, the success of this entire trip depended solely on me. Once again Hans withdrew to the rear, muttering.

Checking the cabin pressure and consulting my GPS equipment, I determined we were somewhere above bolivia and had a long way to go.

Just then a young woman who I'd noticed before takeoff came right into the cockpit.

"I don't know what it is you fink you're doing but you'd better cut it out. You've got Brenner all in a state. He's making us nervous."

Her English accent and doe eyes had me 'all in a state' but I played it cool.

"Oh let him be, he's fine, probably figuring a way to hoodwink those villagers. Name's Mack, didn't catch yours."

I held out my hand. She looked at me, eyebrows raised.

"Didn't frow it now did I?"

Sheesh somebody woke up on the wrong side of the fuselage, I thought. I withdrew my hand and fixed my gaze elsewhere. To my surprise she climbed into the empty copilots seat beside me.

"Sorry," she said. "That was rude, I'm Maggie Grantham."

She didn't offer a hand and her eyes remained steady forward but I could feel the mood shift, the tension lessen.

Over the mountains and jungles of Bolivia and on toward Venezuela and Brazil our conversation flowed effortlessly. We laughed. She shed a tear recounting her parents tragic deaths. We even began to flirt.

"I feel as if I've known you all of my life," she quipped, a radiant smile beaming my way.

I can remember thinking to myself how quickly time seemed to be moving. In the blink of an eye most of the passengers were asleep and we were quickly approaching the notorious Bermuda Triangle. Then, the plane lurched westward, took a deep dive about one thousand feet and I scanned the outside of my plane, searching for some cause. I recovered and found my bearings as Brenner invaded the cockpit once more.

"Shut up!' I barked before he could say a word.

"Just some turbulence, we're above water," I explained.

"Uhm well, there's a bit of a problem." Brenner stammered.

Although we hadn't gotten along pleasantly before now, I took his tone and demeanor seriously. Something was up. Once again, the aircraft took a heart pounding dip.

"Spit it out damnit!" I yelled.

Maggie looked from Brenner back to me and I could see the horror etched into her face. Her slender hand came up to cover her mouth, that universal sign of shock and trepidation.

Brenner began, "Our specimen is awake." He paused before continuing. "And angry.", he finished.

"So get it back to sleep, calm him down, that creature's gonna put us at the bottom of the Atlantic!"

Of course there were marine biologists on board who could sort this thing out. I figured there'd be tranquilizers, restraints, maybe a soft ballad to soothe the disturbed monster. But alas, the team's supply of heavy sleep-inducing narcotics were smashed, their glass vials shattered just as the squid's supposedly "safe-tested" enclosure had. Now there was a veritable ocean, ten thousand cubic meters of South Pacific salt water squelching, sloshing freely in my airplanes lower hold.

I feel at this point in the story it would be prudent to elaborate on the unique design of my custom C130. This wasn't just any old transport plane. The wingspan was fifty yards across, imagine half a football field! The body was about as wide as 3 school buses. Unlike the Airbus and popular passenger plane, the Boeing 787, my aircraft didn't utilize the latest lightweight alluminums and poly-carbons. Good, old fashioned American steel and a kevlar coating was necessary. At the base it was nicknamed 'the battleship' and onlookers, no matter how many times they'd seen it airborne, were truly dazzled by its ability to fly. The gunmetal grey paintjob added to its naval mystique but its official mandate was secret and not necessarily commissioned by any of the branches of our military. The giant aircraft contained two levels, the upper being small, cramped, and exclusively for passengers and crew. There was a ramp that folded down and out at the back of the plane to accomodate Humvees, tanks, advanced weapons systems, or any other large loads. The cavernous cargo hold, or "belly of the beast", which held the giant squid was retrofitted specifically for the journey. Because of the large volume of salt water the squid needed to remain alive, a waterproof spray was applied to the walls, floor, and ceiling before the squid's humongous tank was secured within.

When I first took this assignment, my only hesitation was about the immense volume of water. Surely the plane would be more difficult to operate, and a thin margin for error made this endeavor a risky operation at best. Now, faced with the prospect of a writhing, tentacled, and angry squid, negotiating the craft was nothing short of suicidal. Something had to be done.

Then it hit me. While in Argentina I made a personal purchase. I met Juan Carlos in a saloon about half a mile from the tarmac. Procured by Juan Carlos were four hundered fifty, sixty milligram quaaludes, a bygone intoxicant completely unavailable stateside. The leather jacket I had hung on a hook behind my seat contained the pills. I knew from firsthand experience the sedative properties of the quaaludes, just five of these could knock an elephant unconscious quite easily. Certainly a dozen or so could act the same on the squid.

I clambered behind my seat, spilling my untouched coffee. As I grabbed for my jacket I relayed my plan to Brenner and Maggie. Amid shouts of protest I exited the cockpit and made my way to the hold. I prayed the short lesson I'd given Maggie had sunk in.

"Just keep us in the clouds!" I shouted.

I climbed down the staircase. Before I reached the floor my entire body was submerged. There was no sign of the researchers from Germany. Fluorescent running lights flickered above me creating an eerie sense of doom. I worried about electrocution but quickly stowed the thought away. Any fear now would paralyze me thus dooming the entire flight. Armed with the sedatives and a strong sense of valor, I plunged into the frigid depths.

Immediately I became disoriented as I was gripped round the waist by a tentacle and flung helter skelter around the hold. As the beast brought my writhing body toward its chomping beak-like jaws, I grabbed the only thing within arms reach - a crowbar. The intentions of the squid were clear, I was to be the dessert which followed the two scientists who woke the beast. As oxygen quickly left my bloodstream I lashed out, forcing the crowbar into the squids beak, jamming it open and force-feeding the quaaludes into its gullet. I felt the tension subside and the tentacle release me. I scurried to the surface, grabbed hold of the ladder, and took a huge gasp. I had done it. The immediate threat was over.

Now what were we to do about the loose water, unbalancing the plane every second, putting our lives in jeapordy. Soaking wet, I collapsed into the cockpit and resumed control of my airplane. I explained to Maggie and Hans the circumstances we found ourselves in.

We would have to dump the squid.

Hans turned white as a ghost. He had just released the two hundred thousand dollar payment to the fishing village. This mission was the culmination of over two years of field work and exploration. He put up a token resistance but he knew it had to be done. The lives of him and his crew were at stake.

I took the aircraft slowly and steadily down toward the waves of the Atlantic ocean. We became dangerously close to the surface when Maggie yelled,

"Stop, hold one minute!"

She tore down to the lower hold before I released the ramp and she secured a tracking device to the squids tentacle.

"We'll find him again Dr," she said soothingly, patting the scientist on the shoulder.

"We'll find him again." He repeated with conviction. They returned to Mack's cockpit with a new mission on the horizon.

[hawaii-n-jones]

Also, it has a shorter shelf life than other cans [canned items may not "spoil" persay but over long period of time the aluminum will begin to toxify it's contents], because they don't even coat the inside with parabens other companies use to extend the shelf life of alluminum packaging.

Not just recyclable, easier to recycle.

and it's totally good tasting water if you're picky about "the good water"

they should invent water for men

[dikeoucollection]

Dikeou Superstars Monthly Roundup

Devon Dikeou, Cajole: Oriental Opulence and Tropical Paradise, 1992 Ongoing, Artificial Flowers and Plants, Plant Identification Sign, Mirrored Planter Replicating Mall Ambiance, 3′ x 3′ x 8′ each, Unique, 2 AP′s; image courtesy artist and The Dikeou Collection

Devon Dikeou will infiltrate NADA New York 2022 at Basketball City with a number of her “Cajole” installations throughout the fair environment.

Anicka Yi: Force Majeure, 2017, plexiglass, aluminum, agar, bacteria, refrigeration system, LED lights, glass, epoxy resin, powder coated stainless steel, light bulbs, digital clocks, silicone, and silk flowers; image courtesy Guggenheim Museum, New York.

Anicka Yi was recently featured two Art in America articles about Bio Art by Claire Pentecost and Josie Thaddeus-Johns.  

Artwork by Chris Johnson; image courtesy the artist

Chris Johanson exhibited work in The Power of Pablo group art show and benefit at SOMArts in San Francisco.

Momoyo Torimitsu, Somehow I don’t feel comfortable, 2021, nylon, air blower, sound. At the Royal Hawaiian Center, Waikīkī; image courtesy of the artist and Hawai‘i Contemporary. © Momoyo Torimitsu. Photo: Lila Lee.

Momoyo Torimitsu’s “Somehow I Don’t Feel Comfortable” (a fan favorite at The Dikeou Collection!) is blowing up at the Hawai’i Triennial with mentions in The Art Newspaper, Town and Country Magazine, and Artsy

Margaret Lee, Inner Form, #1 (white, black, sliver), 2022, oil paint on canvas. Brushed alluminum frame, 60h x 48w in; image courtesy the artist and The Green Gallery

Margaret Lee is currently exhibiting a dual exhibition with Alex Kwartler in an exhibition titled you make your pike, here, at The Green Gallery in Milwaukee, Wisconsin

Simon Periton and TfL's Eleanor Pinfield with the students of St Mary Magdalene Academy Islington in front of his work, Avalanche; image courtesy Callum Marius of My London News

Simon Periton contributed two installations to the new Elizabeth line station in London

Image courtesy Baader-Meinhof Gallery

Joshua Abelow opens a retrospective at not one, not two, but FIVE venues across the country (plus one in Copenhagen) this April through May. Full exhibition information can be found at joshuaabelow.com.

Wade Guyton, ‘Untitled Action Sculpture (Chair),’ 2001; image courtesy the artist and Luxembourg + Co.

Wade Guyton is exhibiting work in Bad Manners, a group show at Luxembourg + Co. 

[bigoexpress]

Aluminum Film Movie Kit System Rig includes:(1)Video Cage+(1)Top Handle Grip+(2)15mm Rod+(1)Matte Box+(1)Follow Focus+(1)Shoulder Rig Compatible for Canon/Nikon/Pentax/Sony and other DSLR Cameras

Aluminum Film Movie Kit System Rig includes:(1)Video Cage+(1)Top Handle Grip+(2)15mm Rod+(1)Matte Box+(1)Follow Focus+(1)Shoulder Rig Compatible for Canon/Nikon/Pentax/Sony and other DSLR Cameras

Price: (as of – Details) Camera Cage & Top Handle Grip : Made of alluminum alloy, durable and built to last Two rubber coated handles, comfortable to hold and spread apart for stabilization Portable and lightwight. Easy to assemble or disassemble. The top bracket carries 1/4-20 threaded holes for mounting a variety of accessories such as hot shoe adapters, mini ball heads The bottom bracket has…

[twelvesignsrp]

congratulations logan, capricorn is now luca yamada with the faceclaim ryan potter ! 

Character Sign: Capricorn

Character name: Luca Yamada Birthday: January 19th Sexuality: Fluid Gender: Cis-Male Moon Sign: Aquarius Faceclaim: Ryan Potter Power:

MATTER ABSORPTION; The user can absorb matter, while removing it from the source, into their body and use it in various ways, gaining some form of advantage, either by enhancing themselves, gaining the drained power, using it as power source etc., either temporarily or permanently.

   Luca’s ability is complete earth based, meaning he can’t absorb matter that isn’t naturally made or largely complied of earth base compotents. Items like clay, stone, metal, sand, and even gemstone can be taken from and used. How it’s used? Think of it like a layer of armor, in some ways, as Luca can absorb the chemical or atomic makeup of a substance—it’s matter—then reincorporate that matter into his own genetic makeup. Basically his skin and to some point his muscles or organs completely shift into the matter he absorbs. Whether that’s taking in a concrete wall creating his arms to be as heavy and dense as stone or absorbing metal railing, to coat his knuckles to be as strong as steel. His ability doesn’t give him abnormal strength, endurance, or durability—but depending on the composition of the matter he takes does change him. Imagine you punching someone’s face and then imagine punch a stone face…the matter is what makes him “stronger” but he’s still human, and has his limitations.

LIMITATIONS; Firstly proximity is needed, via touch. Luca can not mentally or psychically absrob matter. Like the element of earth it is person and physical. Luca’s limitations grows via  science. Magic might be able to bend many rules in the world but never can absolutely break them. The porpotion to which the material Luca is absorbing is equally porpotion to how much he can collectively transform his body. If he absorbs a pebble or a stone the size of a brick, he can only spread that to about the size of his forearm or less… Walls, metal railings, or solid desk leave him more than enough material he let his body manifest into the element he’s absorbing. Secondly, as his powers grow stronger, Luca can have a slight chance of destroying the material he’s syphoning. Taking an objects matter is one thing, but if he takes too much he can destroy the integrity of it. As most stone objects, like rocks or bricks, have chances of disintegrating. So far most walls or metal objects don’t fully break down but might be structially more weak or it way rust. Lastly his limitations are that he’s still human, not inhuman. Luca can still feel the weight of his ability, almost as if he’s lifting weights. He must train himself physically and must work hard to withstand the physical demands of his ability. He might be able to take more hits, be denser or stronger, but that all fades once the matter does too.

SUB POWER, FERROKINESIS; Shape and manipulate metal, a solid material (an element, compound, or alloy) that is typically hard, shiny, and features good electrical and thermal conductivity. Metals are generally malleable—they can be hammered or pressed permanently out of shape without breaking or cracking—as well as fusible (able to be fused or melted) and ductile (able to be drawn out into a thin wire

Since Luca has absorbed large amounts of metals ranging from steel, iron, alluminum, and copper—when his power boost came into effect, his body developed what they know best. Metals. Luca is able to shape or manipulate metals, never create them from thin air. His ability is also weaker than if it was a main gift, as he often can only dismantle, twist, or destroy metal than truly shape it to much. His ability is normally heightened if he has recently absorbed metals or alloys.

LIMITATION; Luca’s limitations are practice and understanding. Chemistry was never Luca’s first choise, so understanding the softness of metals and their strengths and weaknesses have been a learning curve. If he tries to manipulate or form metal too sharply or outside of it’s scientific properties it can shatter or grow weaker than he’d want. As a weaker manipulation, he isn’t able to mess with heavy ammounts or large pieces of metals, much like his brain is too weak to mentally lift such a mass. Emotions can help him push pass that but as of now, he is limited to the largest thig he’s manipulating being a street lamp.

What do they study: Criminology

Biography:

self-con·trol

   You were precision in perfection, a graceful force biding your time. As a child your chaos was order; neatly stacking your toys in the spaces they held, to coloring in the lines—dazzling your parent’s with your “skills”. However those skills or talents they’d dote on you for, felt nothing but natural. You like having a plan, a goal to reap pride and glory from. Your bones were etched with method and reason, your muscles woven with patience that rivaled most your age; truly you aged faster than others. By ten your ballet shoes would be trade for kickboxing ones—as the control that ballet offered grew boring. The older you got, that graceful force churned and brewed needing an outlet that wasn’t just lines and beauty. No, your hands ached with a soreness you indulged in. You were learning to become a soldier of your own pursuits.

re·spon·si·ble

    Time moved on and your maturity produced your most remarkable trait. Your sense of duty. Martial arts only were steps to your goal, learning to protect yourself but a seed of virtue would bloom into protecting others. You, like all sixteen year olds, played your hand against Fate—tempting the laws of the world and breaking what you could, yet you never treaded too far across the line. You had patience for the things that so many around you eagerly wanted. You were a catious driver, a conservative when you partied, and above all else a studious boy. Your parents goals for you were lofty, but you worked towards them. Your dreams would stay on the back burner, as they would speak of being a doctor or becoming a lawyer…you held your tongue. Being dutiful to them meant everything, but you wanted nothing more than to be the opposite. For your heart was that of a lion, big and bold, beating to a rhythm of one thing; to become an officer.

pes·si·mis·tic

   Graduation had came, you walked the stage with your canary colored sash, being first and the best among your peers. However you found a part of you that you never expected. Doubt and fear, a trait you fought hard against with grit and horns. You pushed past a lot; your sexuality, your parents plan for you, physical struggles, test, college acceptances…etc. You should feel the weight you are feeling before you fly off to Durham. You’ve made it, you are pursuing your dreams, you are free from your past—yet with your future open to so much your doubt festers a colder side of you. Judgement and sharp words become your mask you slip on with ease, while your eyes hide a mind that is softer than you know. You never forgot your virtue, to uphold and protect the law and it’s people, yet you forgot how to be yourself. More comfortable to be hardhead than vunerable.

stub·born

   It’s been years and your life was on a track to success; everything you’ve wanted. However Fate is a fickle bitch, and you’ve found yourself butting heads and grinding your teeth for over a year now. Your life has shifted, to a plane or reality that has no control or understanding. That irks you. Your dreams are being put on pause, your finish line was so close but you and eleven others are being hijacked to something else. Part of you wants to run, to fight another day, to return to your life…yet deeper than that, a part of you that wants to serve and to be apart of something bigger keeps you there. Even if you rather not corroborate and feeling like you are being dragged along instead of leading it. You are here, you are now a witch, you are apart of something larger than the law.

Patrouns: Luca’s patronus would be that of a Heron, white with black tipped wings. Herons represent wild determination and inteligence. The grace of these birds are known for their adaptablity and diversity, since they tread between three elements—that of water, earth, and air. They are crafty creatures, fidning new ways to hunt and survive which for me describes Luca. His whole life has been polishing himself to be better, pressure and focus he puts on himself to hopefully be able to withstand it and become a diamond in the end. Not to mention his mother has a traditional Japanese painting that has a Heron in it; which Luca grew up loving and appreciating more and more.

Five interesting facts about your character:

Luca is tri-lingual knowning Japanese, English, and French. Most people find it surprising that he knows French as he’s American and attending a British school but his aunt is from Bordeuax, France—which he visited often as a child.

Luca is trained in martial arts, almost 11 years in Judo and Taekwondo. He doesn’t brag about how good he is, saying he does it to stay in shape and is just a agression reliever but really he is good. At seventeen he was nationally ranked in the top five, and a small ranking around the world. His coach thought he could work into trying out for the Olympics but Luca was more focus on college to do that.

Is secretly an HGTV lover and is a big fan of Property Brothers. He just loves watching people decorate and creating a space, which reflects as his apartment is very true to him and his aestehtic.

Most people are shocked to learn that Luca hates sushi, even most fish. His mother being more dissapointed about that, but still loves other Japanese dishes and is a bigger fan of rolled omlettes than anything. He still fakes liking it when his dates taking him to sushi places, just to be polite.

Luca owns a pet Husky named Opus, that is just 3 years old. The little guy (who isn’t that small anymore) is Luca’s pride and joy. They two are a perfect match between master and friend, as Opus is as loyal and trained as Luca is particular and ridged. He often shows Opus off by letting him perform tricks like getting him a soda or letting him open his bedroom dorm for him.

Character Quote: “Just because you are soft doesn’t mean you are not a force. Honey and wildfire are both the color gold.”

WRITING SAMPLE

    Have you ever have d��jà vu? That overwhelming feeling of familiarity; well think of that times ten and add a wicked head high to it and you can imagine Luca’s reaction to watching the scene in front of him ‘return’ to normal. His eyes flickered images of predictions, rapidly fliping ontop of one another like a frame by frame photo—like if stop animation had become his state. He watched a women that was about to drop her bag, drop it four different ways, each trailing like a streak of light with how the apples would fall (which was 80% more likely to fall over into the road than not). His brain felt short circuited, shaking his head. Each person or thing, whatever was in movement, spliced into several things…several decisions being produced. Watching birds fly to three different points on a tree, to seeing a car stop infront of an oblivious teen girl to then watching the chances of it hitting her too all in the matter of moments.

   He moved out from the street and into a little vintage shop, hoping to gain clarity and solitude for a moment. His head felt less dizzy after he rubbed his eyes a few times, wondering if he was drugged or not. It wasn’t until the clerk asked him if he needed help, which he swiftly dismissed with a shake of his head and off to a rack to breath. “What the fuck?” he thought, before wondering what had happened. He’d spend several hours after that wondering more and more, but simultaneously worried about why it felt so comfortable too. It didn’t feel like a drug, like a blanket you borrowed from a friend to use—it felt apart of him, like he spend days and weeks making a blanket only to use it intimately.

ANYTHING ELSE?

Favorite colour is probably slate but recently I’ve been digging forest green a ton.

Also more so I’ve missed you all and this RP a ton, and stoked that I have the time now to devote to it than I did last summer. I have my own computer, myown place, and a better work schedule (even if I’m still gonna travel more and camp more)

[sandblasting17]

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[eddyandale]

combination of carbon steel and chrome steel

There are a lot of ways in which we use aluminum in our industries. The slicing of metal in just the correct way permits communities in rural areas of growing economies to mill for water; chopping steel allows for the transmission of electricity and data; having the ability to minimize metal shelters us, and even garments us. The aluminum from these cans may be remade into alluminum and alluminum alloys for various makes use of. One of its hottest products is Hot Instruments Ceramic and Titanium Flat Iron, which stands out for its wonderful options and remarkable blend of applied sciences. 4 inch stainless steel pipe

Little do they know that they are overloading the straightening iron by putting by way of plenty of hair at exactly the identical time. Whereas metal is extra sturdy than wooden, there isn't any material that compares to the natural fantastic thing about wooden. Kitchen knives are often fabricated from one of the four following supplies : stainless-metal, carbon metal, laminated ( combination of carbon steel and chrome steel ), and ceramic.

Like the many alloys previously thought to be unusable in permanent moulds because of their casting options are in manufacturing by that very process. Baosteel to step up production within the disaster assist price 50 million yuan Color Plate Housing wanted Color coated The identical time, undertake a national a million sets of shade coated mild activity room venture delivery tasks.

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Aluminum manufacturing products

It isnt actually stunning that as we now have watched the price of copper proceed to rise that we're hearing increasingly discussion of aluminium pipes instead. The reducing of metal in just the proper method permits communities in rural areas of developing economies to mill for water; slicing metal permits for the transmission of electrical energy and information; having the ability to lower steel shelters us, and even garments us. The aluminum from these cans can be remade into alluminum and alluminum alloys for various makes use of. One in every of its hottest merchandise is Sizzling Tools Ceramic and Titanium Flat Iron, which stands out for its amazing features and memorable mix of applied sciences.

Welded pipe Manufacturers tell everyone : Like the various alloys beforehand regarded as unusable in everlasting moulds because of their casting options are in production by that very course of. Baosteel to step up production within the disaster aid worth 50 million yuan Colour Plate Housing needed Coloration coated The same time, undertake a national one million units of colour coated gentle exercise room mission delivery duties.

Even in case of the hair straighteners the ceramic plates had been the most well-liked ones few days earlier and now the tourmaline plates had taken its place. This then woks as a barrier for the metal and extremely corrosive materials like water. Top-of-the-line methods to buy this flat iron at nice prices could be to enter Flat Iron Articles - a renowned hair care boutique on the internet with more than eight years experience within the situation.

Wood storage doors could be simply painted or stained within the shade of your selection. If one comes to the selection of garage door now the query arises either he should buy a steel door or a door manufactured from aluminum will prove higher for his house. Many metal undergo an embossing course of so that they resemble wooden. 9 The above assumes that the cooling course of could be very gradual, permitting enough time for the carbon to migrate.

Though aluminum just isn't the strongest of all metals, its alloys are used to in its construction thus growing the overall energy of the steel. When use a recipe with minimal oil, just keep in mind to fill your iron with some non-stick spray-we normally use some kind of canola oil spray regardless-you may even put regular canola oil in a small spray bottle and use that, relatively than buying disposable cans.

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Corten Steel, ND Steel And JNS Metal

Steel fabrication has been around as long as man has had a need to make issues from metal. In a phrase,for practically a decade my disdain for the looks of PING irons has saved me from giving them a more in-depth look. The irons characteristic a lightweight titanium face insert with a stainless-steel physique, increasing forgiveness, launch angles, and distance. The fabric properties and mechanical characteristics of Mild Metal are crucial in deciding the area of software. The aluminum from these cans might be remade into alluminum and alluminum alloys for various uses.

However, the stainless steel design features effectively-constructed chrome steel wire mesh material that's both polished or chrome plated. Steel briefcases are sometimes made out of a light-weight materials like aluminum that will give you the sturdiness you might be in search of. The Carbon content material in the Mild Steel is extraordinarily low. Nowadays aluminium alloy castings are manufactured in a whole lot of ways by all industrial casting systems together with green sand, dry sand, composite mould, plaster mould, investment casting everlasting mould, gravity casting, low-pressure casting and pressure die casting.

If you end up buying a hair straightener or flat iron, you need to buy stainless steel into consideration. Step-by-step instructions are given with the intention to provde the ultimate type that you could achieve with the help of this GHD IV Mini Ceramic Flat Iron Styler. A triple layer aluminum composite door just isn't solely durable but additionally very robust. The energy of nodular iron and metal energy is comparable.

Both the hardness and abrasion-resistant traits of the coating originate from the excessive energy of aluminium oxide, yet the porous coating layer produced with standard direct current anodizing procedures is inside a 60-70 Rockwell hardness C range 26 which is comparable only to hardened carbon metal alloys, but significantly inferior to the hardness of natural and synthetic corundum.

The TaylorMade Burner SuperLaunch Irons have proven to be extraordinarily popular, however TaylorMade admits that slower-swinging gamers and golfers who naturally produce a decrease ball flight do not get the total advantage of the golf equipment. With our broader range of companies including every thing from chopping and delivery to centreless grinding and external testing, Parkside Steel is well-positioned to cater in your most demanding wants from metal merchandise.

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basalmic brussle sprouts

preheat oven to broil or highest heat

1 package of frozen brussle sprouts

heat on stove in water to defrost

drain from water

cut into 1\2 or 1\4 depending on the size

put cut peices into a bowl and mix to coat with about a 1\2 cup of basalmic vinaggret.

lay out on a line (alluminum foil) baking sheet

cook for 15 minutes

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Titanium Flat Iron

Use of steel as a construction materials has seen phenomenal growth in the previous few years. Aluminium was at one time a really expensive product and was very hardly ever used in many merchandise unlike as we speak the place it plays an necessary position within the manufacture of many products in many industries. The carbon metal knife is 99% iron, and 1% carbon. Steel reducing is among the important parts throughout the steel industry. A typical metal garage door (including set up costs) could be purchased for underneath $1,000.

The reducing of metal in just the fitting means permits communities in rural areas of developing economies to mill for water; reducing steel allows for the transmission of electricity and knowledge; 4 6 inch stainless steel pipe being able to lower steel shelters us, and even clothes us. The aluminum from these cans could be remade into alluminum and alluminum alloys for various uses. One of its hottest products is Sizzling Tools Ceramic and Titanium Flat Iron, which stands out for its amazing options and memorable blend of applied sciences.

Wooden doors have to be repainted or refinished every couple of years. Chrome Alloy Wheels are nothing however Wheels having a Magnesium or Aluminum base with a chromium coating on high. There may be nothing improper with the final two types of doors aside from the fact that metal doesn't bring that warmth into a house. PAWI which is led by a inventive Romy Rojas, whose love for motoring and motor sports has always been an everlasting ardour, has productively made the transition from being a pioneer to an worldwide exporter of high quality alloy wheels.