#Differences between stacked and wound batteries

[semcoinfratechworld]

Stacked vs. Wound Batteries: The Shocking Showdown!

Prism, pouch, and cylindrical batteries are the different classifications for lithium-ion batteries based on how they are packaged. Prism and pouch batteries offer flexibility in packaging, allowing stacked or even winding from the inside out. Cylindrical batteries, like 18650, 21700, and 4680, are limited to winding due to their inherent design with curved walls.

The winding process has a relatively long development time, low cost, and a high yield rate. In contrast to winding and tandem batteries, the tandem process has gained popularity as electric vehicles have become more commonplace. This is because of its advantages, which include long cycle life, small internal resistance, stable structure, and high-volume utilization.

Production Process of Stacked & Wound Batteries

The two main components of the assembly process for intermediate lithium battery cells are winding and lamination. Winding transforms individual components into rolled products with precise dimensions, integrating cores, diaphragms, belts, and more. Laminated cells skip the winding, stacking pole pieces and separators into layered cores.

Based on the battery's shape, pouch cells are limited to using stacking technology. Prismatic batteries can be wound or layered, with wind being the more popular method at the moment. The only way to wind cylindrical batteries is through stacked battery technology.

Advantages of Stacked Batteries Over Wound Batteries

Higher Battery Energy Density The winding's corner has a curvature, and its space utilization rate is lower than stacking's. Stacking squeezes more energy in by filling corners, boosting density. The energy density in stacked and wound batteries can be raised by roughly 5% in comparison to wound batteries.

The Internal Structure is More Stable The uneven stress in the corners of stacked batteries is not an issue, in contrast to wound batteries. Because each layer's expansion force during repeated battery usage is comparable, stacking the batteries helps maintain the interface's flatness. The positive and negative electrodes of the winding battery will expand when lithium ions are embedded in them during operation. This will cause uneven internal stress in the inner and outer layers of the winding corner, which will result in wavy deformation. This deformation will speed up the instability of the battery's internal structure, cause an uneven current distribution, and deteriorate the battery interface.

Increased Security The stacked batteries are evenly stressed, and there is no bending problem at both ends, making the battery safer. In contrast to stacked batteries, the coating material will be significantly bent and deformed after the pole pieces at both ends of the winding are bent, and the "C corner" bend is more likely to experience burr issues and powder loss. In extreme circumstances, it will result in a battery short circuit and thermal runaway.

Longer Cycle Life The number of tabs in stacked batteries is twice that of wound batteries, and the more tabs there are, the lower the resistance and the shorter the electron transport distance. As is common knowledge, heat generation decreases with increasing resistance and increases with decreasing resistance when voltage and time remain constant. For this reason, stacked batteries have a longer service life than wound batteries. Wound vs. stacked battery lifecycle.

Disadvantages of Stacked Batteries over Wound Batteries

The equipment efficiency is low, and the area occupied by the stacker crane is larger than that of the winding machine.

High Investment in Equipment Ten winding machines are required for a single production line. A winding machine on a production line costs roughly 30-35 yuan, based on a price of 3-3.5 million yuan per unit. The number of cells on a production line determines how many stacker cranes are needed.

The Yield is Low The wound battery has a high pass rate and is simple to cut. It is easier on each cell because it only needs to cut the positive and negative poles once. However, when stacking and cutting, each cell has dozens of small pieces, and each small piece has four cutting surfaces, making it easier to produce defective products than with wound or stacked batteries.

Difficult to Control The battery can be wound with just two pole pieces, and spot welding is simple and requires only two spot welds per battery, making control over the process easy. Nevertheless, there are a lot of stacked pole pieces, and virtual welding is more likely to happen than with stacked vs. wound battery performance. It is challenging to operate when all of the pole pieces need to be spot-welded to a single solder joint.

After slitting, the diaphragm, positive and negative electrodes, and pole piece are wound together by adjusting the pole piece's speed, tension, relative position, and other factors. This process is known as winding. Only lithium batteries with a regular shape can be prepared due to the process's characteristics.

In contrast to wound batteries and laminated cells, laminated cells are created by alternatingly stacking the positive and negative electrodes and separators via a sheet feeding mechanism. This process produces more flexible, regular, or specially-shaped lithium batteries.

Conclusion

The wound battery has a high internal resistance, which can be significantly decreased by improving the structure. An all-tab structure, for instance, can accomplish a comparable degree of internal resistance to a stacked structure, but it needs more sophisticated machinery and tighter quality control. Stackable batteries have a flat structure, low internal resistance, and high space utilization compared to wound and stacked batteries, and excel in the field of energy-storage batteries.

[waynedunlaptheorgandonor]

caryl fic; oneshot, hurt/comfort, vague s10 spoilers

title: how you go

rating: teen

word count: ~2k

They stumble inside a rundown building. It’s somewhere between a shed and a barn; a single room, with remnants of hay on the floor and cobwebs in the rafters, but it’s small enough that one good look around is enough to tell Daryl there are no walkers around, at least not in here. Outside is a different story, and already he can hear the scritch-scratching of nails on wood; the tap-tapping of hands on glass. Daryl helps Carol to the ground, and then shoves a dusty, old shelf in front of the door and prays that it holds.

He doesn’t have time to dwell on it—no walkers are breaking in this second, and he has other things to attend to. Like the fact that the love of his life is currently bleeding out on a filthy, hay-covered floor.

Daryl kneels beside her and scoops up some dirt and hay into a pile for her to lay her head on. He turns on his flashlight—the batteries are running low, but he’s lucky he has any at all—and gingerly lifts up her shirt to examine her wound.

“It’s bad,” Carol says. Her voice is strained from the pain, but she’s calm.

“You’ll be alright,” Daryl says, trying to keep a neutral expression even as he’s wracked with fear. She’s right. It’s bad.

“I think I’m dying,” Carol says matter-of-factly.

“Shut up,” Daryl says. “No you aren’t.”

The wound is really bad.

He’s not sure how deep the knife went in.

If she’s got internal bleeding and the others don’t find them soon, she might—

“I’m gonna put pressure on this; try an’ stop the bleedin’. Might hurt a lil’.” Daryl derails his own thought train, focusing instead on slipping off his vest and unbuttoning his shirt.

“Is this really the time to be coming onto me?” Carol asks. Daryl’s hands pause for a split second. He casts her an unamused glare before finishing up on the buttons and sliding his shirt off his shoulders.

“Stop,” he mutters. “Don’t got nothin’ else to use as a bandage.”

She laughs, and usually he’d be delighted to hear that particular sound—it’s been an age since she last teased him like this—but that’s precisely why it worries him. She’s been free-falling ever since the pikes, and he’s worried she’s feeling more playful now because she thinks it’s finally all gonna end. Well there’s no way in hell he’s standing for that. He bunches up his shirt and presses it against her wound. She takes a sharp intake of breath and he cringes.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “Sorry, I know it hurts.”

“Told you there were Whisperers on our side of the border,” she says, and even though she doesn’t sound mad—if anything, she’s teasing him again—he still feels like a gigantic, record-breaking, steaming pile of shit. If he had gotten his head out of his ass he would have seen that she knew what she was talking about. But she hadn’t been sleeping; had been popping pills and referencing conversations they’d never had. He had wanted to believe her—his gut protested every second that he didn't—but the evidence had been stacked up against her. In short, he had doubted her, and now it’ll be his fault if she—

“How are you feelin’? Cold? Dizzy? Anythin’ like that?”

“No, just feeling stabbed so far,” she says. Daryl sighs, and she adds, a little more seriously, “I’m kind of cold.”

Daryl shines the flashlight at her face. She’s pale. He presses the back of his hand against her cheek. Her skin is clammy.

“Keep talkin’ to me, alright? Even if you get tired. Especially if you get tired. I wanna make sure you’re not goin’ into shock.”

“Yes, Dr. Dixon,” she says with a cheeky grin he can’t bring himself to return. God, she sounds so weak .

“They’ll find us,” he tells her. “Michonne and the others. They’ll take care of the walkers outside and we’ll get you home and get you patched up and good as new, alright?”

“Alright,” she says, in the same tone he’d used when he’d told her he believed her about the Whisperers.

“Don’t,” he says.

“Don’t what?”

“Act like you’re already givin’ up.”

“Wound’s deep, Daryl,” she says. The shirt he has pressed against her is already bled through.

“You’ve had worse.”

“Lucky me.”

“You know what I mean. You’ve gotten through worse. This is just another thing.”

“What if I’m tired of getting through things?” she asks. Daryl squints at her.

“The hell’s that s’posed to mean?”

“It means, what if you took your hands off my stomach and just let whatever's gonna happen, happen?”

Daryl presses harder against her abdomen.

“You can fuck right off with that shit,” he says.

“I’m tired, Daryl.”

“Keep talkin’ to me.”

“That’s not the kind of tired I mean.”

He knows. He knows she’s talking about how her body’s been through so much trauma, even pre-apocalypse, that it’s a miracle it’s made it this far, and she’s tired of it still getting beat down even after all of that. She’s talking about how this is another goddamn wound she has to heal, and she doesn’t only mean like the scar on her arm where the glass impaled her a few weeks ago. She means the gaping wounds in her heart from all her dead children; the gashes in her conscience from every life she’s ever taken; the constant ache of forcing herself to survive every goddamn day in a world like this. She’s tired, Daryl knows this, but she’s not allowed to go to sleep. Not yet. He says,

“This ain’t the way you go.”

“Yeah?” she asks, and her voice is losing all its edge with every drop of blood that leaks out of her body and into Daryl’s makeshift bandage. “How do I go then?”

Daryl frowns at where the white of her stomach is stained crimson. She has a whole litany of battle wounds from times where it wasn’t her time to go.

He doesn’t think she’s expecting an answer, and truth be told, it’s not a question he’d usually reply to, but he decides she needs to know that today is not the day.

“It’ll be your heart,” he tells her. “Not an attack or somethin’, it won’t be nothin’ that hurts. There won’t be pain.”

She doesn’t say anything or a moment, and Daryl checks to make sure she’s still conscious. Her eyes are glassy and groggy, but they’re fixed on his.

“Will it be in a fight?” she asks quietly, and Daryl shakes his head.

“Nah. There won’t be no more fights to fight by the time you go. Uh-uh, you’ll be in bed, all warm and comfy and shit. Nice sheets. You know like them rich people ones with the billion thread count or whatever? That’s what you’ll be layin’ on.”

“What about a fluffy pillow? One of those big memory foam ones? Always loved those.”

“Oh, hell yeah, baby,” Daryl says, the term of endearment slipping out before his brain has a chance to catch up with his mouth. If she’s bothered by it she doesn’t show it on her face, but he wonders if it prompts her to ask her next question. She asks,

“Will you be with me?” For a second he wonders if she’s ribbing him again, but her expression is earnest and shy.

“‘Course,” he says softly. “‘Course I will. I’ll be right there. Hell, I’ll even hold your hand. If you want, I mean.”

“What if...will the bed be big enough for you to hold all of me and not just my hand?”

Daryl swallows, even though his mouth is dry.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be next to you, and I’ll hold all’a you, and when you go I’ll still be there. Right ‘til the very end I’ll be there.”

“Will I be afraid?”

“Nah. Neither of us will, ‘cause we’ll know it’s time, you know? We both seen death so much already, it won’t scare us none. Might be a little sad, though. I’ll be sad. Won’t be able to say goodbye easily, warnin’ you now, but I gotta let you go first, ‘cause there ain’t no way you’re goin’ out without someone who loves the hell outta you seein’ you off.”

Carol’s eyes are glistening, and he doesn’t think it’s from the shock. He turns his attention back to her abdomen. It’s still bleeding, but it’s slowing. From outside, the walkers groan, and the old wooden building groans right along with them. It’s an oddly peaceful cadence.

“Daryl?”

“Yeah?”

“How do you go?”

“Always thought it’d be cool to go out in an explosion. You know, action movie style?” He grins at Carol’s laugh and then shrugs. “I dunno. They’ll pro’ly say it’s somethin’ like natural causes or some shit.”

“But it won’t be?”

“Nah. It’ll be more complicated than that.”

“How so?”

He ducks his head.

“Think eventually missin’ someone too much can be fatal. Not right away, and only when you don’t got no one else, you know? When you’re old and grey and seen enough of the world and you’re ready to go see ‘em again, hopin’ beyond hope that you will—that’s when it takes you.”

“Who will you miss so much that you’ll decide it’s your time to go?”

“That’s a stupid question.”

“Answer it anyway.”

Daryl forces himself to raise his head. She’s ashen, with hay in her hair. She’s watching him, uneasy, as if she really isn’t sure what his answer’s gonna be.

Careful to keep the pressure on her wound with one hand, Daryl sits up on his knees and hovers above her. He waits a beat to see if he’s met with any resistance, and when he’s not he leans down and presses his lips to hers. It’s chaste and polite—it’s to prove a point—but even still, his nerve endings spark, sending a shiver down his spine, and he realizes then that he’s been waiting for the better part of a decade for this.

“You,” he whispers, pulling a breath’s distance away. “I’ll miss you.”

Sitting back on his heels, he uses his free hand to brush tears off her cheeks. She leans into his touch, eyes fluttering closed.

“I’ll be there,” she says.

“What, sweetheart?”

“Beside you. When you go, I’ll be there. You won’t see me, but you’ll know. And when you do go, I’ll be waiting, and it’ll be so good to see you again. The best.”

From outside comes the unmistakable sound of a katana slicing into a walker. Muffled voices can be heard through the walls. Daryl smiles at Carol.

“The best,” he repeats in agreement. “But we ain’t there yet. This ain’t how you go. You hear me? It ain’t.”

“I hear you,” she says, like she believes him now. “I’m not going anywhere. Not today.”

Daryl cups her face, just as the barn door swings open. He nods, saying with conviction,

“Damn straight, baby. Not today.”

[lyssismagical]

I don’t invite the headrush but it follows me

Whumptober Days 9 & 10 - Shackled/Unconscious 

Read on AO3

Waking up in the lab isn’t too abnormal for a workaholic like Peter. It’s not weird to have a crick in his neck and vaguely aching joints and muscles. It’s not out of the ordinary to have a pounding headache and a shout on his lips.

What is abnormal, though, is to wake with his hands and ankles tied.

Thick metal encircles his wrists, attaching him to the table leg. He’s sitting awkwardly propped up on a chair, one of the ones bolted to the floor, ankles separately cuffed to the chair legs.

He tests the metal holding him, confusion more prominent than fear. He’s Spider-Man, he shouldn’t really fear anything, especially after everything he’s had to face.

But this is different. This wasn’t being kidnapped on his way to pick up Morgan, this isn’t following a bad guy into a trap, this isn’t being taken. This is his lab, his home.

He tugs a little harder at the chains, but they don’t budge.

“You won’t be able to free yourself, Spider-Man,” a voice drawls somewhere behind him. He tries to jerk around to see him, but he can’t strain his neck far enough to find the source of the disturbingly familiar voice.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, trying not to let his sudden chill of fear show. This man knows he’s Spider-Man. Only a very select few people know that.

A laugh, chilling and echoing in the lab. “The internet will love this, Petey.”

Peter flinches at the nickname, wishing Morgan’s nickname for him wouldn’t be hurt in this way. “What do you mean? The internet?”

“Didn’t think I’d film this, did you?” the man continues condescendingly. “Once we’re done here, this will be uploaded for the world to see, Spidey. They’re going to hate you. They’re finally going to see how weak and pathetic their dear hero really is.”

There aren’t many options Peter has.

The shackles are too strong for him to break out of. He’s the sole leader of Stark Industries. It’s not weird for him to be on a work binge. Nobody’s going to question it.

“FRIDAY?” Peter says.

There’s no response and the man laughs. “Yeah, you thought I’d overlook that, didn’t you? She’s been disabled for ‘updates.’”

Tony, Pepper, and Morgan are all retired a few miles outside of the city. Tony wouldn’t even question Peter not calling for a few days, probably assuming Peter’s busy with running a multi-billion-dollar company.

May’s been going to nursing school to finally finish the degree she wanted to get. They’ve both been too busy to really call more than once or twice a week.

Nobody’s really going to notice for at least a few days. And Peter’s absolutely screwed.

“Before you ask,” the man continues, a strange metallic noise ringing through the air. “I’m not going to go on a villian-esque rant about how I deserved this company or at least more than what I got. I’m not going to bore you with my life story. All you need to know is that this isn’t going to be fun for you, but I’m going to have a wonderful time.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “I get it. Whatever. You wanted the company, Tony didn’t give it to you. He chose me. Therefore, it’s my fault. I feel like this is a pretty boring story, isn’t it?”

A fist slams down onto the table behind Peter, making him flinch, chains rattling against the metal chair legs.

But just as fast as the anger came, it disappears again. “Anywho, I’m not on a time crunch, but I’m a little too excited to wait any longer.”

The footsteps that slowly move around Peter are deliberate, making it last as long as the man can, letting the tension build up inside of Peter.

And then,

“Beck?”

Peter recognizes one of the employees he used to work with back when he used to just be in charge of R&D. He was always a little bit intimidating to work with because he used to have angry mood swings, blowing up at anyone, anytime. And Peter, the kind of person who actively avoids conflict, didn’t want to have to deal with that.

“You’re angry because of BARF, aren’t you?” He remembers, vaguely, hearing the conversation between Pepper and Tony a few years back. Beck had tried to get his job back not long after the snap, but Tony had recognized him before Pepper could hire him again.

Beck sneers, hand gripping the old camera in one hand shaking. “Of course, I’m angry. Did you think I wouldn’t care? Stark took everything from me.”

Peter just rolls his eyes, tugging a little bit at the chains.

He doesn’t expect the hit when it comes, whiting out his vision for a few long moments as he breathes through the pain, head flung to the side with the force of the punch.

“Fuck, man, you couldn’t just- I don’t know- talk to a therapist or something? I’ve heard that’s really good for someone’s-”

Just because he expects it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less. He’s been hit by his fair share of enhanced individuals or aliens or people with inhuman strength, so Beck’s punches are much less than the strength Peter’s used to feeling, but they’re constant.

There’s no fighting back, there’s nothing he can do. He can barely even pull his head back without worrying about breaking his wrists at the awkward angle of the cuffs.

Beck was right, he wasn’t going to bore Peter with chatter.

He spits some blood onto the tiled floor between hits, trying to find the breath again as he feels his lip split and his nose crack.

Beck hits him again. And again. And again.

The last thing Peter sees before he loses consciousness is a blinking red light.

*

When he comes to, he can barely peel his eyes open with the overwhelming swelling. He feels like he was stung by a thousand bees. He’s only ever been stung by one bee and it was when he was ten years old  and he had cried because he knew that meant the bee had died. May tried to console him, but he knew the bee population was diminishing and he had killed a bee when he’d been stung-

On track, he thinks, trying to grasp onto important thoughts even though his brain feels like molasses.

He can hear Beck mumbling not too far from him, humming a tuneless song. One of his hands is tapping the table at an inconsistent rhythm, a dull ringing whenever his ring hits the metal table.

Nobody’s gotten to him yet. Vaguely, he can hear one of the bots beeping angrily in the corner, but last he saw, they’d been broken in some way. Without wheels or batteries or whatever had been easiest to break them. Beck had thought this through.

“I know you’re awake!” Beck calls out. “I’ve been so bored without you.”

Peter pries his right open, left too swollen to even try. He opens his mouth to speak, but his throat is dry and the movement tugs at the cuts and bruises he knows litters his whole face. The last thing he needs is to reopen the wounds.

“I’ve been watching the video,” Beck continues like Peter cares. “And even though you did perfect, amazing work done, I just feel like it could’ve used a little more… je ne sais quoi. A little bit more pizzazz.”

Peter would’ve protested if he thought he could’ve moved his mouth without restarting the waterfall of blood from his lips.

Instead, he watches Beck until he disappears behind Peter’s chair.

And then, without warning, a sickening snap sounds through the lab.

A choked sob bubbles out of Peter’s chest as he tries to move away, pain flaring from his now broken finger all the way up to his head.

Beck laughs again, an awful noise that grates at Peter’s ears. “This is just the excitement I was looking for. I could make this into a film, Spidey, do you understand that? The money I could make.”

Peter forces his mouth open, desperately pulling at his chains as cold fingers rest on his ring finger of his left hand. He doesn’t care if he bleeds, he just wants this to stop.

“You can… you can have m’ney,” Peter says, tears starting to slide down his swollen face when his lip resplits and blood immediately fills his mouth.

“This isn’t about money, Peter. This is about fame,” Beck cackles gleefully.

Crack.

Peter cries out as a second and then third finger are broken, body shaking when the pain has nowhere to go. His chest aches, his fingers burn, his whole face throbs. He doesn’t have the energy to spit the blood out, so it all just drools out of his mouth and down the front of his shirt.

He only makes it through two more cracks before his mind, sludgy and murky, finally gives out to the pain.

*

He has to save himself. There’s no other way he can get out of this.

It’s probably Friday and he really can’t wait two more days for Tony to start getting antsy about Peter not responding to see why he hadn’t shown up for Sunday Night Barbeque. And even then, antsy isn’t going to get him saved.

“You ready for Part Three?” Beck says, a smile on his face. It makes his eyebrows look too high and his eyes too wide, leaning over his legs. He’s sitting directly across from Peter, split knuckles the only sign of something being wrong.

Peter makes an incomprehensible noise in return, chin resting on his chest, no longer the energy to hold him up. He cries out when he tries to flex his fingers. All ten are broken.

“I’m thinking of making it a YouTube series now,” Beck’s saying, talking about fame and money and everything he apparently deserves for thinking he invented BARF. “The world is going to be so happy someone finally put Spider-Man in his place. As nothing more than a petty little bug to be squashed.”

Peter can make out the camera, a few feet away, red light flashing obnoxiously. It’s sitting on a stack of miscellaneous objects as a makeshift tripod, holding it up so it’s pointed right at Peter.

He just wants to go to the cabin and curl up on the couch with May and Tony. Breathe in the soft scents of rose perfume and cinnamon body wash. Wants to watch old Disney movies with Morgan. He wants his family. He wants his Dad. He wants to cry.

Swallowing thickly around the metallic taste in his mouth, he tries to talk. To beg, maybe.

But then the door busts open.

And like the most incredible knight in shining armor, May stands in the doorway. Rhodey and Happy a few feet behind her.

“Get the hell away from my kid,” she demands, gun pointed at Beck’s head. Peter, in his at least partially delirious and blurry state, realizes it’s Ben’s old police gun. The one he kept locked in a safe in their closet. B.P is engraved in the side.

Beck stands quickly nearly tripping over his chair, hands raising and eyes wide. “You wouldn’t just kill someone-”

“You really want to test that theory?” May says, jaw clenched and expression hardened. She clicks off the safety. “Because I’d suggest you listen to what I say before you end up with a bullet between your eyes.”

Beck does as told, moving towards the wall until he’s out of Peter’s line of sight.

Rhodey moves forward, a pair of cuffs dangling in one of his hands. The bots are all beeping happily, knowing Peter’s safe now. Happy follows Rhodey’s lead, blocking Peter’s view of the man further.

May races over to Peter, sneakers squeaking against the floor in her hurry. She slips the gun back into the waistband of her white skirt, messy hair falling into her eyes as she sinks to her knees in front of Peter, gently cupping his face.

“My baby,” she murmurs, face falling. “Oh baby. You’ll be okay. I’m here, you’re okay.”

Peter blinks slowly at her, trying to hang onto reality as best as he can when his thoughts slip through his fingers like sand.

“Ti… ‘m tired,” he slurs, blood slipping through his lips and dripping onto his ruined shirt.

Her hands are cold and she smells like her wonderful rose perfume and she’s there and that’s all Peter’s been wanting. He doesn’t care that he’s twenty-three and shouldn’t be curling into his aunt’s embrace like he’s still a ten-year-old boy who’s been stung by a bee. He doesn’t care. All he knows is that she’s here and he’s safe.

“Sleep, baby. It’s okay. Tony’s on his way. You’re safe.”

*

It takes Peter three days of mostly sleeping and cuddling for him to heal, broken fingers very slowly mending back into place.

Three days is nothing in comparison to the three months it takes for Peter to even step foot into his lab which once felt safe and homey, and is now nothing more than a torture chamber filled to the brim with bad memories now. Memories of helplessness and pain.

Beck will never get out of prison and the tapes were all destroyed, but Peter doesn’t think he’ll ever forget Beck’s laughter and excitement, forever seared into Peter’s brain.

[zen-garden-gnome]

Mushroom Hat, v1

I made this hat for EDC Orlando 2018. I wanted to make a costume piece that’s as functional as it is decorative, since I was going to have to have it on me all day. I also wanted it to express my vibe without requiring a ton of interaction--especially one that helped me sort of disappear under it. Mushrooms are low to the ground, slow-moving, are a relevant counter-culture image, and pop up for just a handful of days in the perfect conditions. Plus, a big glowing hat would protect me from the sun, make me easier to locate in crowds, and outshine (ha!) my uncoordinated dancing.

It came out totally different from what I envisioned, despite all my planning. I didn’t know what I was doing when I started it so there were several changes to my strategy as I progressed, which has made the process a little difficult (and boring) to recount/summarize. In the end, the missing details were lessons I had to learn with experience, anyway. Researching techniques and tools definitely helps, especially for a total novice like me, but experiencing those details is what makes them accessible. (Also I lost a ton of photos some time between Summer 2018 and now, so I can’t show everything, anyway.)

First I sketched up some plans and gathered up some materials:

1 white sunhat. The narrow metal band around the outer brim helped the hat maintain its shape, I think?

1.5 yards of red fabric for the cap. Didn’t like the look of felt once backlit, so I switched to vinyl later in the project.

2 yards of white cotton fabric for the gills and a layer under the cap.

2 strings of micro-LED lights requiring CR2032 batteries. Short strings prevented bulky battery packs.

Size 12 needlepoint canvas for added structural support.

Green floral wire for a fiddlehead that I wound up removing later, anyway.

Fake leaves that I also removed later.

Red upholstery thread and black upholstery thread.

Large sewing needles.

Unexpected extras we already had at the house: document clips, sewing pins, clothespins, nylon-jaw flat nose jewelry-making pliers for gripping the needle, an elastic band/strip, and a Halloween skull for positioning the hat while working.

Then I spiraled one string of lights under the brim and the other one over the top, leaving one LED to dangle off the edge and light up a decorative leaf (not pictured). The topside light-string passed through a convenient lacing grommet (pictured above). Every 6 or so inches, I secured the strings to the hat with a loop of upholstery thread. I keep the batteries hidden but accessible, I strapped both packs to the underside of the brim two some trips of elastic, each. The gills would both hide them and act as access slits.

Next came the gills. I folded the fabric back and forth over itself, making slight adjustments to the angle as I moved around the brim and used document clips to keep it all in place. I sewed the gill fabric around the hat’s interior elastic band before sewing around the outer rim. By starting and ending the gills near one of the battery packs, I managed to leave a hidden opening between the first and the last gill for battery access.

To provide some stiffer structure and create a more gradual slope, I cut some needlepoint canvas into strips and draped them in an X shape, stitching them in place one at a time at the cap and the brim. Then I added a hand-made cone of the same canvas to the top for taller peak. The end result wasn’t worth the effort, though, so also I wrapped more of the mesh canvas around the top of the hat and stitched up the peaking radius. The low cone shape provided much better support, resulted in a slightly different shape than I’d originally planned, and created quite a smooth surface to enclose the interior. Not bad!

I also used this mesh layer as a template for the white cotton layer intended to act as the white warts peeking through the red skin. After layering the mesh cone and white cotton and securing with a few stitches around the perimeter, I then layered this atop the hat, before draping red felt over it and testing the lights. I lost my photos of the result, but let me assure you: it looked bad. Felt fabric was a bad choice for all these sharp points of light.

Vinyl was the way to go. It contained the light better and offered a better textured, imo. I cut and stitched the seam of the vinyl along the radii of the layers underneath, so that the shadow of the thicker layering would line up with the vinyl seam. To keep the peak relatively smooth, I cut the vinyl seam in a curve at the top (not pictured).

Before attaching the red topper around the perimeter of the hat, I flattened it onto a stack of newspapers and cut out various eye-shaped “warts” with an X-Acto precision knife. Then I draped it over the hat, radii aligned, and got to sewing.

That’s a lot of thick layering to stitch through. Wound up having too use my partner’s jewelry-making pliers.

Pretty psyched with the end result.

My biggest regrets? Cutting and crisscrossing the canvas strips was a waste of time. In fact, all my extra use of canvas mesh created a bunch of avoidable shadows. Stitching the gills to the cap’s interior elastic band made the hat a little too tight. I find myself adjusting it frequently in order to prevent headaches.

But in the end none of that mattered. No one but me noticed the things I didn’t like about it. Even after the batteries died, people were literally filled with joy at the sight of this hat.

I’ll definitely do it differently, next time. (After 3 events, it’s looking pretty beat up…) The most important change will be to avoid lights altogether. These strings are completely drained within a couple of hours, and the visible points of light don’t deliver the effect I wanted. I can’t really justify using up so many batteries... Next time, I think I’ll try using glow-in-the-dark paint.

[thanksjro]

Polyhex Wars, Book 1 Part 2: The Timeline for the Robots Being Gay Goes Back Further Than I Thought

Ratchet wakes up from that whole, “mystical passing out” thing to find himself strapped to a table with his head all poked into with wires. Optimus and Prowl are also being subjected to this treatment, but they’re not awake yet.

I guess we all have that one character we just latch onto, don’t we?

Chromedome was there when all three of these guys collapsed, and went to go get help. Ratchet explains that there was black fire and breaking glass and it was all like some god-awful acid trip.

No kidding, doc.

Ratchet seems to think that all that actually happened, but it turns out that it was all in their heads, much like everything else that they’d seen. Chromedome just saw them drop with a flash of light.

Optimus wakes up, and First Aid explains that their mental trips into Limbo are coming closer and closer together,  and becoming more violent as a result. There’s a good chance that the next time they have an attack, they’ll be sharing a dreamscape.

Prowl hasn’t woken up. Optimus is worried that he’s stuck in Limbo, and demands that they be put back under to guide him back to the land of the living. First Aid has his reservations, but what is he gonna do, argue with the space pope? Optimus and Ratchet are sent back in with the power of mind-transfer.

Let’s take a quick look at some Chromedome canon before we move on to the next chunk of story, because I want to try and get a feel for why Roberts seems to like him so much.

In the Marvel comics, Chromedome was kind of a reclusive computer nerd, who very much disliked the fact that all his programming skills were only being applied to the war effort as opposed to literally anything else. When Fortress Maximus decided to up and leave, he went along gladly. He ended up getting paired with a very outgoing, vain Nebulan partner named Stylor when the whole Headmaster thing happened. They had their differences, but ultimately were brought together by the common goal of kicking Decepticon ass for the greater good. Comic Chromedome is a relatively nice guy, if a bit cowardly- his final entry in the series was heading for the hills when Unicron showed up, but honestly I can’t really fault him for that.

And then there’s the Headmasters anime. Yeah, Chromedome was an anime protagonist back in the 90’s. Anime Chromedome is a completely different entity than his comic counterpart. His whole thing is that he wants revenge for the murder of his friends at the hands of Sixshot. He���s also a Headmaster- no shit- but it works a little differently, in that he’s the only one involved with the process. Chromedome himself IS the head, and the big body he plugs into is just this sort of inert mecha that he pilots when he wants to be able to reach the higher shelves at the supermarket.

Anime Chromedome is the second-in-command to Fortress Maximus, and he’s a bit of a jackass at times, but he seems to have his heart in the right place. You know, when he isn’t busy beating Decepticons to death. Anime Chromedome goes hard.

Getting back to the story, we return to the scene we left at the end of Part One, with the 40 Autobots having been caught in a trap in Darkmount.

Well that lasted all of five minutes. Poor Grandpa.

This starts a chain reaction, and it isn’t long before all the Autobots are throwing punches. Blaster goes full cowl, taking four guys on at once, and potentially kneeing someone in the nuts so hard they flies up into the air and are promptly exploded by gunfire. Blaster throws a gun to Sights, who is a sniper, and then is right back in the center of the fracas.

Sights is a sniper here, but it looks like the only Sights in Transformers canon is a bird who can turn into a fusion cannon. They probably aren’t the same character, unless there’s something I don’t know about birds.

Sights hauls himself up to a ledge using a grappling hook, and starts picking off Decepticons. Things seem to be turning around for the Autobots at this point, because Sights is the best.

Sights is what some might call a Mary Sue- he’s the best at sniping, rivaling Optimus Prime himself with his accuracy, everyone seems to know him, and he singlehandedly has turned the tide of this fight. As the Autobots escape, he manages to explode a key piece of Decepticon equipment, killing over a dozen enemy troops.

This is an earlier work, if you couldn’t already tell.

We do see some neat transitions in the writing, though.

Ratchet and Optimus have entered Limbo, and are feeling a little manic about the whole thing, especially since the space is just filled with corpses from the Time Wars. Like, it’s a carpet of dead bodies.

Roberts was all about that edge from the get-go, huh?

The two robots start walking, looking for Prowl.

Over with Red Alert on the Celestial, he’s not really feeling the vibe on this spacecraft. Neither is Hot Shot, but neither of them can really pinpoint why exactly that is. Sideswipe points out that Getaway doesn’t have his Nebulan partner with him- for this particular story, we’re going with the take on Getaway as a Powermaster, which means he has a smaller person who plugs into his body to act as a battery, kind of like a reverse parasite.

Comic books are weird.

Toy gimmicks are also weird.

This cues in the Autobots that things might not be on the up and up here. You know, that and the whole “Witterquick” thing. The boys load their weapons, but keep them concealed as they approach not-Blaster, who’s beginning to worry that he’s been caught after all this time.  He must have sort flavor of social anxiety, because he’s kept his cool over the video chat for the last few weeks, but the moment Red Alert enters the room, he blows his cover and orders the Decepticons to attack.

Back at Darkmount, it seems we’ve lost a few people, as the count has gone from 40 to 29. The boys are running through the halls, completely clueless as to where to go in order to escape.

Don’t be shocked by the language, this is G1 Silverbolt, not the one who fucks is a complete gentleman to a spider.

I’m still convinced that this Courier guy is evil. You should be tossing him out the window, not looking to him for help.

The Decepticons are gaining. Hound, exasperated, asks as nicely as he can for Silverbolt to try and wake Courier up as they attempt to keep the distance between factions as wide as they can. Laser fire quickly becomes involved, and Swerve and Bumblebee go from the back of the pack to the front. Little fellas can move when they want to.

While Sights does another cool thing with some guns he stole, Courier wakes up and says- with some trouble, since he’s just woken up and still bleeding from that leg wound- that they should jump into the sewers to escape.

That’s all well and good, but if they intend on doing such a thing, they’ll need to put a bit more distance between themselves and their assailants. Everyone starts shooting at the ceiling, attempting to bring it crashing down. Everyone except Sights. No, instead Sights goes on picking off any Decepticon who gets too close for comfort, until they manage to bring the house down.

The strong, silent type, Sights is. Tall, dark, and handsome, too, most likely.

Back in Limbo, Ratchet’s starting to crack.

As if on cue, the ground starts to crack, revealing lava of all things, and the whole scene turns into Dante’s Inferno-flavored Hell. Yeah, proper noun Hell. Optimus and Ratchet are exploded by contact with a downpour of acid rain, then their bodies reconstituted, only to be burned to crispies by the lava. When they wake up from that, they find themselves stuck on a spinning silver plate in the sky, where they have an excellent view of where Prowl’s gotten to- he’s stranded on an asteroid with a big, scary Decepticon, who’s about to complete wreck his shit.

You know, the snark has always been there in Roberts’ writing, but it didn’t really hit its stride until after this piece of work.

Meanwhile, in the sewers, our Autobots aren’t doing so hot. Courier’s probably going to die if they don’t get him medical attention soon. I guess they just didn’t have any sort of medic on the Celestial when it was overtaken, which seems like a massive oversight. Or maybe they’re dead.

We don’t have time to worry about the hiring practices of the Autobots right now though, because a few Decepticons just arrived on the scene.

Well, there goes the token girl character.

Seems like nobody told these ‘Cons to not hit their deep cover operative. There goes several thousand years of Autobot secrets, dumbasses. Soundwave’s going to be so pissed.

The Autobots quickly fall into formation and start defending themselves. Turns out Rev-Tone’s on the scene.

Hi Rev-Tone!

Someone gets shot and proceeds to explode, which causes enough chaos for a Decepticon to load up a missile launcher without being noticed and fire it into the crowd.

Things are looking hopeless, so that means it’s time for Sights to make his Heroic Sacrifice™. Hound begs him to stay, because he can’t bear to lose anyone else.

Unfortunately, the Hound/Sights coffeeshop AU slowburn fit written by Rewind will have to have a fix-it fic tag, because Sights is almost immediately and literally ripped apart by a smattering of Decepticons. Knowing his time is running out, he busts out the big guns.

Oh my god he’s got fucking laser vision.

That isn’t quite enough though, so he initiates self-destruct, thereby saving his fellow Autobots and dying a hero.

You know, if you stack Sights on top of what was left of Quark after the interrogation scene, you make a whole robot. Worst. Duobot. Ever.

Not to worry though, because Wheeljack’s taken the opportunity to be all weird and cryptic, and insinuates that they potentially COULD bring Sights back from the dead. Because of course he can.

We don’t get to find out how that magic’s going to happen though, because it’s time to check in on Optimus and Ratchet.

Things aren’t going great. They crashed the disk, and it turns out that the giant Decepticon threatening Prowl and throwing body parts at him is Galvatron. Optimus leaps into action, attempting to use his magnetic repellence on the enemy.

I guess that’s a thing he has.

It works, but it’s taking a lot out of Optimus, so they need to figure something else out fast. Optimus, ever light on his mental feet, surges the power so that Galvatron explodes. Ratchet goes over to Prowl to see what his deal is, and it’s looking like he’s going to need brain surgery.

“Now back the hell up, Optimus, you’re breathing contaminates all over Prowl’s exposed brain.”

Back on Cybertron, it turns out that things might just be okay after all, as Hound and company have stumbled across the lost city of Subterrainia. Subterrainia did not exist in Transformers canon at the time of this writing, but it would in 2012, when Roberts used his immense power as a hired writer for the franchise to make it so.

Now that they’re in a place that has medical equipment, they can heal their wounded and indulge in a little lore. Trasher provides us with the backstory of this lost city.

Long before the War, Transformers lived on the surface of Cybertron. Then, one day, someone said, what if we didn’t do that? Then they built Subterrainia and lived there instead. Then the War happened and people sort of just forgot that it was there. The end.

That’s literally it.

After that riveting explanation, we check back in with Optimus, who I suppose forgot to put on his patience hat this morning, as he asks Ratchet to hurry up with the life-saving field surgery he’s currently in the middle of. Ratchet calls him out on it, as he should, and Optimus apologizes, going back to worrying about his troops outside of Limbo.

Over on the Celestial, Red Alert’s just had his arm shot off, and there’s a continuity error running amok.

You are supposed to be back at base, mister!

The Autobots are getting their asses kicked, and it’s not hard to see why- a lot of the Decepticons on this spacecraft are heavy hitters. Starscream’s here, the entire Combaticon team, it’s wild.

Then Starscream calls for escape plan 3 to take place, and they just… leave. It’s strange, and it’s sudden, and the Autobots can’t help but agree. Red Alert decides to see what’s on the computer to try and figure out what they’re planning, and ends up setting off the countdown for a bomb. Slapdash yells at him for being an idiot.

Back down in the City of the Mole People, Getaway’s come back from checking out the place, and informs Hound that it’s completely abandoned. He theorizes that the Decepticons killed everyone who lived here, an will probably come looking for them sooner rather than later. That’s all fine though, because Courier’s back and better than ever.

I still don’t trust him.

He says he knows how to get out of Subterrainia- which only chalks up more points against him being a true Autobot- but hold on! What about Sights?

Sights just got Goldbugged. It’s Ammo now.

Roberts will never let a pair of robot titties go unnoticed. I can’t believe that Wheeljack, with the limited time they had, would go and make Ammo this attractive, and then have the audacity to show him off with a dramatic reveal. It was completely unnecessary, but here we are, staring at Ammo’s strong arms and thighs, wishing to be held by Hotbot 9000 over here.

Hound is all about this overhaul. Look at him, getting all flustered.

Ammo as character is present in the IDW run of the comics, but in name only. They are very different creatures, much like the different iterations of Quark. Roberts is very into recycling, and here is no exception.

After Ammo’s debut, the narrative checks in on Autobot City, where things aren’t nearly as sexy; Starscream made a beeline for the place the moment they left the Celestial, and they’re wrecking shop. He’s doing this without orders to do so, by the way. This is just how Starscream wants his Monday to go, I guess. It’s looking pretty grim for the Autobots, and Optimus is still stuck in Limbo. Hopefully he gets back soon.

[rhinozilla]

Whumptober Day 28: Beaten

Summary: One week after the revolution, staff androids return to the 7th Precinct station seeking shelter and refuge. They've clearly been through Hell, and the officers left at the DPD don't have the heart to turn them away.

--

Barely a week had passed since the revolution, and the city of Detroit was still shaken to its core. One week since all the staff androids had walked out of the DPD station, freed and deviant and…all looking a little shaken themselves, if Wilson was honest.

He couldn’t imagine what it was like: to be a machine for your whole existence, only to suddenly be woken up one day and discover you have feelings, wants, likes, dislikes, fears, the whole mess. It was hard enough when you had a whole childhood to figure out how to process things before reaching a hopefully well adjusted adulthood. No android ever got that, and it had showed in the somewhat aimless way that the androids at the 7th precinct had shuffled out of the station, until someone from Jericho arrived to guide them.

Like every other establishment in Detroit, the event had left the precinct with a skeleton crew of exhausted humans, all having to wear multiple hats to try and keep things running. Fowler had been forced to call Hank back from his suspension and Gavin back from his medical leave for his concussion. Between the riots, the protests, the evacuations, and the icy, rainy, slushy weather outside, the city was a mess. The military was maintaining a strong presence on the streets, but they were barely controlling the situations cropping up either.

The night one week after the revolution found the station manned by Wilson, Captain Fowler, and Wilson’s mother, who had volunteered to help answer phones and work around the office. Otis and Rita Wilson had a combined 50 years of police career experience between them, and Fowler had been desperate, so he had allowed Rita to clock in. Otis and Wilson’s brother Mike were still working around the clock at the 04, and his brother’s texts had said the scene wasn’t very different there.

Everybody else at the 07 had been sent out on patrols and new cases, and it left the bullpen eerily empty and quiet. Around 8 pm, that changed when the phone at his desk rang from reception.

“Yeah?” Wilson greeted tiredly, rubbing his eyes.

“Lawrence, we’ve got androids,” his mother said on the other end of the line.

Wilson was on his feet then. “Coming.”

He hung up the phone and hastily made his way through to the front reception area of the station. Sure enough, Rita was standing behind the desk, staring uncertainly at the group of androids who had just shuffled through the front doors. Wilson’s first instinct was to reach for his weapon, but he repressed it, taking in the sorry state of the group.

There were six in total, four wearing standard issue android DPD uniforms. The other two were in civilian clothes. Two of the six had white plastic showing in patches through their synthetic skin due to damage. One of them, Wilson recognized as one of the ST300 models who had worked reception at this very precinct.

“Polly?!” he stammered, taking a step closer while maintaining a cautious distance.

Polly was still in her DPD receptionist uniform, her LED a cycling red that clashed with the blue blood coating one side of her face. She was only standing with the assistance of another ST300 that was in civilian clothes, whose LED was solid red and with eyes wide as she held onto her fellow android.

“She said this place would be safe,” the other ST300 said, her voice shaky but trying to stay even. “Was she right?”

Wilson stared at them all, at their dirty, torn, wet Cyberlife issued uniforms and ill fitting human clothes, their trembling limbs, their wide, frightened eyes. They were bruised and bleeding, and those who still had their LEDs had lights of solid red or yellow on their temples. The other five were somewhat huddling behind the other ST300, who looked equally terrified but like she had been shoved into the position of leader for this motley crew out of necessity.

“Yes,” he answered. “Jericho might be safer for you though.”

The ST300’s face twisted with something approximating anger. “Yeah, I’m not going to them.”

“Why—“ Wilson started.

“Captain, there are six androids here seeking shelter,” Rita cut in, speaking into the phone. “Yes, they’re already inside…No, I don’t see any weapons—“

“Please,” one of the PC200s behind Polly pleaded. “Cyberlife has closed its doors, and this is the only place that I have ever known—“ He looked around at the familiarity of the station’s walls until his gaze landed desperately back on Wilson. “I don’t want to go back out there on my own.”

Wilson didn’t know what to say to that. What COULD he say to that?

Polly abruptly collapsed in the ST300’s arms, her knees buckling as she folded toward the floor.

“Hey!” her friend called, struggling to hold onto her.

Instinct took over, and Wilson swept over, helping her to slow Polly’s collapse so she didn’t hit the floor. Upon closer inspection, the thirium was bleeding from a deep wound to the side of her head, and he could see exposed wiring under her hair.

“Polly?” he asked, shaking her arm lightly. He looked to the leader. “I don’t know how to help her. We only have very basic repair supplies.”

The ST300’s dark eyes softened with the barest shred of hope. “I-I can work with that. Please, we just need a place to stay tonight—“

“What is this?” Captain Fowler reached them, standing imposingly on the scene.

“Captain,” the PC200 said, standing at attention.

“Zeke?” Fowler blinked, frowning at them. “Polly?”

“She’s damaged,” Wilson reported, gathering the limp android in his arms. “This one says she can probably fix her with what we have on hand.”

Fowler looked at the leader. “Were you DPD?”

“No,” she said, standing with Wilson as he got up, carrying Polly. “My name is Julia.” She looked with concern to Polly. “Her charging cells were damaged. Our model was designed to carry nearly 300 percent battery power for…for humans to recharge their devices off us.” She scowled but quickly collected herself. “I can manually transfer power to her, but not out there…”

“We can help around here too!” Zeke stated. “We can work in exchange for shelter tonight.”

Wilson met his captain’s eyes, feeling thirium starting to stain his jacket where Polly’s head was tucked against him. “Sir…”

Fowler stared at them all then heaved a sigh. “Jesus Christ…Fine. Do any of you have any weapons on your persons?”

The other androids all echoed negatives, but Julia carefully held her hands out in full view.

“I found a gun. I have it tucked in my belt.”

“Turn around,” Fowler ordered.

Julia obediently kept her arms raised as she put her back to him. Fowler approached her and found the gun jammed into her belt at her back. He relieved her of it and looked to Wilson.

“Take them to the conference room. See if we have enough in Lost and Found for them to wear. Zeke, you come with me.”

“Sir,” Zeke nodded, following Fowler back into the main station.

Wilson exchanged a look with his mother. Rita was chewing on her lip. She yanked her own thick wool coat off the back of her chair and swept around the front of the reception desk.

“Here, take this,” she said, wrapping the coat around Polly in Wilson’s arms. “Poor thing…”

Wilson led the other androids back into the bullpen. A PM700 that he thought was named Gwen stepped ahead, opening the door for him to carry Polly inside. A herd of squeaky wet shoes followed him in, and he carefully laid the android down on the table, situating Rita’s coat over her. Gwen immediately took over tending to her, and Wilson pointed at Julia.

“You with me.”

As the rest of the androids shuffled into the conference room, dripping and shaking, Julia kept a stiff upper lip, marching after Wilson toward the Lost and Found clothing box in the locker room. It was a pathetic little bundle of clothes, and he grabbed some leftover DPD t-shirts and pants to make up for the shortage.

“Why aren’t you all going to Jericho?” he asked, handing one of the stacks to her.

“I told them they could go,” Julia said, carrying the stack out of the locker room with Wilson. “But when I said I wasn’t, they insisted on coming with me…” She cast her eyes elsewhere. “None of us know—“ She froze abruptly. “This is the 07…Is the RK800 here?!”

She looked around in a panic, and Wilson removed one hand from the box he was carrying, trying to calm her.

“No. I haven’t seen him around here since the revolution.”

Julia visibly relaxed, and Wilson frowned.

“You know he…deviated too, right? He’s not…after you guys anymore.”

Julia didn’t look overly comforted by that. “Just as long as he isn’t here…”

Wilson eyed her, then reached over toward Gavin’s desk as they passed by. He yanked the detective’s heavy jacket off the back of his chair, tossing it over Julia’s shoulder.

“Take that one too. He’s got a hundred of these just like it.”

Julia startled slightly but reluctantly took the jacket. “Thank you…” She read his name patch on his shirt. “…Officer Wilson.”

“You’re welcome, Julia.”

Wilson looked toward Fowler’s office, where the captain was questioning the PC200. It didn’t look ugly, but it did look intense. Back in the conference room, Julia peeled off her wet outer layer of clothes and pulled on Reed’s jacket, which nearly swallowed her.

“I’ll get the repair supplies,” Wilson told them. “And I think we have a bottle of thirium or two lying around. It’s not much, but you’re welcome to what we have.”

“Thank you,” Julia repeated, hugging her arms to herself. “I promise we—we’ll patch ourselves up and be on our way as soon as the sun is up tomorrow.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Wilson assured. “Not like we don’t have the room right now. The, uh, the others know where the charging stations are, and…I’ll talk to the captain about letting you stay longer. If you need anything, let me know.”

He wasn’t sure if androids were capable of crying, but for a moment, Julia looked overwhelmed at his words and on the verge of tears from relief.

Jesus, when was the last time any of them had been shown kindness?

“Thank you,” she repeated again.

Wilson nodded and backed out of the room, closing the door. He took a deep breath and puffed out his cheeks as he exhaled. He ran a hand over the back of his head and looked toward reception. His mother stood in the entryway, looking just as concerned and perplexed as he felt.

It was going to be another long night.

[indesignartsandcrafts]

Lithium Battery Manufacturing

The processes used for manufacturing 12v lithium ion battery is extremely almost like those utilized within the assembly of Nickel Cadmium cells and Nickel Metal Hydride cells with some key differences associated with the upper reactivity of the chemicals utilized within the Lithium cells.

Electrode Coating

The anodes and cathodes in Lithium cells are of comparable form and are made by similar processes on similar or identical equipment. The active electrode materials are coated on all sides of metallic foils which act because these collectors conducting the present in and out of the cell. The anode material could also be a kind of Carbon and thus the cathode could also be a Lithium metal oxide. Both of those materials are delivered to the factory within the sort of black powder and therefore the untrained eye, they're almost imperceptible from each other. Since contamination among the anode and cathode materials will exhaust the battery, care must be taken to stop these materials from stepping into contact with each other. For this reason, the anodes and cathodes are usually processed in several rooms.

Shop High-Quality 12v lithium ion battery price are very affordable. Batx.in is one of the leading producers of batteries comes up with Eco-friendly collections of excellent quality batteries.

Particle size must be kept to a minimum to understand the utmost effective area of the electrodes needed for top current cells. Particle shape is additionally important. Smooth rounded molds with rounded sides are desirable since sharp edges or flaky surfaces are exposed to higher electrical force and decomposition of the anode passivation SEI layer, which can cause very large heat generation and possible thermal runaway when the cells are in use.

The metal electrode layers are produced on large reels, typically about 500 mm deep, with copper for the anode and aluminum for the cathode, and these reels are mounted directly on the coating machines where the foil is unreeled because it's stuffed into the machine through accuracy rollers.

The coating process is shown within the diagram below.

The first stage is to mix the electrode materials with a conductive binder to form slurry that's spread on the surface of the foil because it passes into the machine. A knife-edge is found just above the foil and thus the thickness of the electrode coating is controlled by adjusting the gap between the knife edge and therefore the foil. Since its commonplace for the gravimetric or volumetric energy storage capacity of the anode material to vary from that of the cathode material, the thickness of the coating layers must be set to allow the energy storage per unit area of the anode and cathode electrodes to be matched.

From the coater, the covered foil is fed immediately into an in-depth drying oven to bake the electrode material on the sheet. Because the coated foil exits the oven it's re-reeled.

The coated sheets are finally fed into splitting instruments to cut the foil into thinner strips suitable for various sizes of electrodes. Later they run length. Any burrs on the edges of the foil strips could produce internal short circuits within the cells therefore the slitting machine must be very precisely manufactured and maintained.

Cell Assembly

In the best factories, cell assembly is usually administered on highly automated equipment; however, there are still many smaller manufacturers who use manual assembly methods.

The first stage within the assembly process is to make the electrode sub-assembly during which the separator is sandwiched between the anode and thus the cathode. Two primary electrode compositions are used including the variability of cell casing to be used, a stacked structure to be utilized in prismatic cells, and a spiral-wound structure to be utilized in cylindrical cells.

See Cell Construction for an overview of Stacked and Wound cells.

[katrina-jutte-blog]

Emotion, so fickle a feeling, one that could never truly been contained. For years and years I'd tried, stowed it away, being cold and calculating. I'd always lied to myself, believing that I was incapable of ever truly feeling, world that cultivated me having killed that long ago. It was not the truth, reality was I did so to avoid being hurt. Pain could not come if I didn't feel, at least that was my rational. All walls come crumbling down however, nothing is forever.

School had whittled me away, made me promises that I didn't need to be afraid any longer. In some cases these promises were false, such as dreams of a family, but not all. Love and friendship were real, tangible entity I could feel with my entire being. Trust existed and was not a mere word that meant little. Wouldn't be a stretch to say Lucille and Devanea helped change me, opening me to the ability to be myself. They brought out a side of me that few would ever see, soon, they may lay claim to being the last so do so.

For I was unfortunately correct on one thing, emotions were a weakness, there to be exploited. For years I had done so in my line of work, was near fitting that the table's would turn, my end being brought forth because I'd let my wall down, allowing others passage inside. Now I had to decide if I retreated further inward or attempt to quell the flames engulfing the sanctuary of my heart.

Answer would have easily been flee inward, laying low until it was clear to poke my head outward. My life was more valuable than that of another. They were just another pawn used to protect the queen. Only this time things were different, a true queen didn't discard pieces on a whim, they cared for each and every one of them. Devanea was my best friend, a person that was deathly loyal, willing to sacrifice anything to keep me safe, even her own marriage.

She wouldn't be in this situation if it wasn't for me. They'd gone after her because they knew we were close, knew it'd be another strike against my psyche. My allies would be taken out one by one until only I remained, then and only then, would I be slain as well. They wanted me to suffer for my indiscretions, for daring to stand against them. Pleasure would not be allotted to them. Time for sending messages was over, now was time for closure.

Fight was going to be taken directly to them, act they would not expect. They knew my allies had dwindled to four, at most, however in disparate times, even old alliances can be rekindled, if only for a short time. Caleb and Elle would help protect Dev, ensure she made it out with her life. As would Dev's wife, Bekah. Thoughts of me should not matter, only the protection of Dev. If they thought otherwise, they'd only reveal themselves to be worse than me.

For as soft as I'd become, only one emotion prevailed over all the others, one that had simmered within me for months, now taking full hold of my body. Rage, pure and unbridled rage. Only one thing could satiate it, death of those hunting me. I didn't care how long it took nor how many bodies  stacked up, Richard and his employer would no longer be a blight on this world. Then and only then, would both Lucille and Dev be safe.

That quest started here, at the restaurant that began it all, only locale I knew Richard frequented. It was time someone knocked on his front door without fear. Death no longer frightened me as it once did. My life was forfeit long ago, gods were just choosing now to collect. All I could do was make it as difficult as possible for them.

Hand gripped firmly around a glowing red stone, magical energy shooting through my body like a volt of energy charging a battery. That's all my body was now, a vessel that held the key to ending this. With this power, nothing could touch me, nothing could stand in my way. I could move mountains and shape worlds, but for now, I'd settle for burning this building to the ground.

I kicked open the door, entering the establishment with my face in broad view. I wasn't hiding anymore, they'd know just who they were dealing with. They'd look me square in the eyes and know who won.

“Where the fuck is he?!” I yelled, not giving a shit about the couple and two families eating inside. If they knew what was good for him, they'd get the fuck out of here.

One of the waiter's turned towards me, staring with a look of horror. Tray in his hand started to waver, dishes atop it chattering together. Others were no more filled with vigor, looking between each other as if waiting for something.

That something made itself apparent before my mouth could open again. An arrow whistled through the air, striking me in the right shoulder, sending my body stumbling forward. Arrow went through and through, leaving a hole in my shoulder, blood gushing from it. Hand gave a brief twitch before raising up to that same shoulder. Blood from the wound funneling into it like a vacuum, flesh trying to stretch over the area, enough to abate the bleeding.

Whirling around I slammed my hand against the wall, blood spreading out to form a sigil. It flashed, thick and jellylike substance spreading over the doorway. “No one fucking leaves until I say so.”

A worker near the back of the restaurant tried making a break for the kitchen. My eyes glowed a deep crimson, veins along my arms becoming pronounced, darkening in color. Stone swirled in front of me as if it were a pen on a parchment, creating another sigil in the air. Hound straight from a nightmare leaping from it. It's fur was gone, leaving the entire inter workings of it's body on full display. Saliva poured from it's mouth as it stared at the man.

“Bring me back an arm.” I stated coldly, watching as the hound sprinted to the back in a blaze. Wasn't long before you could hear a scream followed by panicked voices and finally a series of gun fire. Eyes narrowed, hand further constricting around the stone. Gunfire soon ceased.

Vision turned towards the others. “Start talking.”

“We don't even know who you are. Just let us go.” Matriarch of a family of four exclaimed, arms curling around her two youngest children.

“Then I wasn't talking to you, was I?” I glared at her. “Keep your mouth shut and your kids won't have to end up orphans.”

“E-even if you kill us, you won't make it out of here. S-seraph will be all over this place. You'll have nowhere to go.” Waiter with the platter spoke with the confidence of a man trying to ask out a girl well out of his league.

I walked closer, right arm feeling a growing numbness to it, same leg beginning to drag across the ground. “If that's the case, why not just tell me what I want? Or do you fear your wrong?”

Question caught him off guard, rebuttal fumbling out of his mouth. “Be-because I don't have to tell you anything.”

“Your right, you don't.” I reached out, grabbing him by the wrist, eyes flaring again. He struggled at first, trying to rip his arm away, but my hands were a vice, nails clawing into his skin. His eyes started to go glassy, feeling the effects of what had to be poison from the tip of the arrow. Wasn't enough to kill him, at least not yet.

His other arm swung meekly around, fist more slapping across my face than striking it. “What did you do to me?!”

“I'm fixing you.” Blackness covered my hand, loud chattering heard as it spread outward, scaling up the man's arm. He took two deep panicked breaths inward before collapsing to the ground. Brood of shadowed scarabs feasting on what remained of his flesh.

Eyes flicked to the last remaining staff member. “Do you value your life at all?”

“I-I don't know anything, h-he just told us to act na-normal, that it-it would be handled. We... I'm just trying to make a living you know?” Man looked ready to have a heart attack, eyes looking across the room as if pleading for help.

“Does it look handled?” I bent to a crouch, right arm stretching out, letting a few of the scarabs skitter upward.

“Wha-what your doing isn't go-going to solve anything. It-it will bring cha-chaos.” Man grabbed a steak knife off the table, holding it out like he was going to stab me with a rounded edge.

Scarabs helped the process of sealing my wound, using their bites as a makeshift staple, keeping the fresh and flimsy new layer of skin in place. First few times were painful. Now, it felt like a bliss, ever present reminder that I am in fact not dead.

I rose up to my feet, smiling warmly at the man. “Winds of chaos fuel a fire that shall burn this empire to the ground. And from it's ashes, it will begin anew.”

Kitchen doors swung open, mangled corpses of what had once been the cook staff shuffling out. Many had chunks torn from their flesh, others had shards of what looked like bone perforating their chest. One even had the lining of his intestines trying to flee his stomach. All of their eyes were lit with a similar red.

When the flames died down, perhaps I could have the life I yearned for, one of love. Embers still very much burned however. Now wasn't the time for love, only violence. None would be spared.

[zaraegis]

BBC Sherlock| Shoulder Angels| T

Synopsis:It would figure that Sherlock Holmes’ shoulder angel carried a gun and his shoulder devil didn’t wear his wings as they clashed with his Westwood suits.

The day Sherlock Holmes was born, Shoulder Entities agencies in both Heaven and Hell had been completely overturned in panic. Mere seconds after Sherlock had cried out his first breath, a note on his file showed up in heaven.

Jim Moriarty was his shoulder devil.

The Director was said to have slammed his head down on the considerably big file of the youngest Holmes. It was a stack of blank papers and documents about five inches long. Except for his Birth Certificate, they were all blank; as many papers would be filled along the course of his human life. It later would baffle many angels and demons that noticed, oddly enough a death certificate would be in the middle of the file with no explanation.

This was all pretty routine, a human was born, and they would either have volunteers already lined up for a soul as soon as they were conceived, or they would be assigned one their first day on earth.

No one wanted to work with Jim Moriarty, and several angels who were considered threatened to hand in their resignation.

Even Irene had declined because of her first dibs on a new soul that would desperately need her. And she wasn’t sure that she could keep both her charge and herself alive with Moriarty there.

No one blamed her.

The last angel to partner with Jim was still in therapy. He’d been given permission to handle pens just last decade.

“Oh! Thank goodness you’re here!”

John smiled awkwardly at that and raised an inquisitive eyebrow at the frazzled looking secretary. She tried to make herself seem less desperate and forced herself to not clutch at his lapels. During this the man he came to see came out of a nearby office.

“John! Good to see you, and just the angel I was looking for.” Mike Stamford smiled and exchanged looks with the secretary who slumped back in her chair and gave off the relieved of someone whose washed their hands of a very messy problem.

John was beginning to question his decision to meet his old friend again. Especially suspicious that he asked him to meet in the Reassignment office in what amounted to neutral territory.

“There was a bit of an uproar in Up There and Down Here, have you heard?”

John was tempted to ask if gossip was all Mike called him out for but refrained. There was an air of someone leading to something and to humor them.

“I noticed something was up, but I never got too many details. Something about a human…?”

“Yep,” Mike beamed,“There’s this one human born, and his future is so ambivalent that there’s a perfect 50/50 chance to go either way. Not to mention they feel this one’s gonna send waves out in the human world. Heard his file was 5 inches thick too.”

John whistled, his own file was 3 inches thick, and he was a good bit older than even Mike, who remembered the old days when Lucifer was still sporting a pair of pearly white wings.

Out on a tangent Mike asked about his latest charge. John grimaced and rubbed at his shoulder, feeling an answering twinge in his leg.

“He’s getting settled pretty well Up There, went to have a drink with him once or twice this past month.”

Mike seemed to realize he’d hit a still sore spot because all he said was a “That’s good news at least.” before nodding at his shoulder and wing.

“Still bothering you then? That wound.”

“Yep. You’d think after a century or so it would begin to heal properly but no—"He cut himself off, the last word spitted out with old bitterness, hand shaking where once he would have been steadier than a rock. He took a calming breath and was suddenly so glad that he wasn’t conversing with someone from home. They would have frowned at his showing of negative emotions and checked that his wings were still feathery and glowing with angelic power.

Demons, on the other hand didn’t put up too much fuss when confronted with an angel getting snippy, as long as any and all holy weapons were kept sheathed. Mike held true and didn’t remark or seem to notice anything out of character, at least outwardly.

On his bad days, John sometimes wondered what it said about him that he felt more at ease conversing with demons that most other angels.

Especially since most of his demonic acquaintances were those he had fought fiercely during the Great War against. And hadn’t killed.

Mike brought him back from his reverie, whip-like tail waving through the air in a decidedly languid fashion. "So, do you have another charge for Guardianship?”

Another twinge, but this one was almost easily ignored. “Not really, I don’t think I can go through that so soon,” His wings settled in a tight manner close to him. Bill Murray was the first human under his new job as a Guardian Angel, after a couple of years after being honorably discharged from Warrior Angel status by a lucky shot through his shoulder and wing both during a skirmish between demons that the Angelic Forces decided to crash. His hands weren’t steady anymore, and his healing was iffy.

He could see why he was discharged, an angel who couldn’t confidently heal others or aim correctly wasn’t any use in a war. He was more a liability.

It didn’t stop the feelings of uselessness.

So as soon as the full body spasms stopped completely and his healer confirmed that the malicious energy in his wound had finally been purged away, he had registered himself for Guardianship. And had been given Bill Murray, a chance to actually see the human world for the first time, and his sense of duty back.

In protecting little Billy from dangers, scrapes and trying to do life damage control; John lost his limp, and his hand was ever steady, his Angelic Will never faltering. He had never felt so alive and useful and such a deep abiding Love for a human. Ever since he had glimpsed his soul as the first thing to see coming down to earth, he had been given the Guardian Angel’s defining characteristic to so purely love their human charges.

He had taken years to study human medicine and had endeared himself to a strange succubus who went by different monikers every year or so on one of his trips to Hell, sword at ready, to visit Mike and ask a favor for human healing practice. Mike had actually gone up to the human world and earned a degree in medicine, and so had been a great help.

Anthea, however, had merely tagged along and steered him clear of less tolerant demons with an easy air. She never failed to show up every time he came before Hell’s gate. It was strange, but John didn’t mind, it was nice to have someone to chat with and eventually he noticed the burning curiosity of the human world that she had.

It took some serious sneaking around and some indecent flirting with a demon who guarded a little used gate, but he eventually had permission to bring Anthea (who was now called Athena, but John had been introduced to her as Anthea and so Anthea she had stayed to him) with him.

They attended Bill’s college courses, with John sneaking glances at another student’s medical text, and with Anthea taking everything in with the wide curious eyes that endeared her to him. He guided her through his knowledge of the human world that he had painstakingly learned in his years of Guardianship.

Last he had seen her was when she had shown up at Heaven’s gate, almost started an altercation with a guard and had hugged him tightly, cracking his ribs as he tried to explain that,no, she wasn’t here to cause trouble and yes, they were friends.

Anthea had applied for a human of her own to tempt as a shoulder devil. He had patted her shoulders proudly and felt the disbelieving stares of other angels as he exclaimed that he knew she would do a damned good job.

Hanging around with Bill and his army mates had done wonders for his swearing capacities.

She had only sent missives for the past years, and John amused her and her charge by sending scrolls of gold and silver in a show of pompous angelic grace use.

And then Bill had gone to Afghanistan. Most of the other Guardian Angels in his squad were relatively new to this human war, he ran himself ragged and stopped distinguishing his charge and theirs. Every human was their charge, and sometimes another angel covered for him while he recharged his “batteries” impatiently in Heaven as keeping bullets off their mark took more energy out of his Presence than merely keeping his form on Earth would.

It worked out great, for the most part, after the new angels began to fall in line like true warriors. And then everything was gone, in a single skirmish, most of their human charges were dead and their Guardians subsequently whisked off to Heaven. Bill had seen him, and closed his eyes and not opened them again. He flew back to Heaven with tears in his eyes and Bill’s soul cradled protectively in his hands.

No. He didn’t think he could do that again.

A paper was thrust in his face, and he momentarily went cross-eyed trying to focus out the words at the top.

Oh no. No, no, no, nope. No way. He slapped it back down.

“C'mon John!” Mike, that old tempter, wheedled,” No other angel is stepping up to plate because of Jim; would you really leave someone to a Moriarty’s mercy?” That gave him pause, he frowned at Mike.

“Moriarty?”

“The grandson of his, yeah. Goes by Jim. Got his last charges sent here early. Put other angels in intensive therapy.” Mike grinned the smuggest grin not seen since a snake got Eve to eat an apple.

John’s face didn’t move but his hand slowly steadied, his eyes scanned the waiting room they’d been sitting in. “Get real Mike. Look at me.” Spreading his arms, his left lower as to not irritate his wound. His sword clanged lightly from his hip, his ever present armor gleamed almost ominously in the cool lighting.“Who’d want me for a conscience?”

He was a Warrior first and foremost, and a small part of him wanted to sign up if only to see how he fared pitted against the latest Moriarty. A human didn’t need that kind of violence residing in the angel giving out good advice.

“I got word from a contact of mine.” No names were mentioned of course, Mike was nothing if not discreet, “There’s a death certificate smack dab in the middle of his file.” It would be a terribly powerful clairvoyant to see the words in the blank page of a human’s life.

John’s sword gave a gentle humming sound, and John cursed internally as Mike took out a pen and waved it in his face.

“No matter what you say about getting old,” John grumbled as he jotted down his info, “You still manage the temptations of man pretty well from where I’m standing.”

Mike grinned even wider the snakey bastard.

They got a confirmation not ten seconds after it was sent. Along with a sad little sticky with the words, “BLESS YOU.” in thick, underlined block letters.

John didn’t think it was very angelic, but he couldn’t deny the satisfaction he felt in flipping Mike off before unfurling his wings and taking off.

His laughter followed him all the way.

[hindiworld]

August 08, 2018 at 03:36AM Microsoft Surface Laptop Review

HIGHLIGHTS

The Surface Laptop has a unique Alcantara fabric layer on its inner deck

Performance is good for everyday work, but connectivity is limited

The Surface Laptop is available in five different configurations in India

We waited years for Microsoft to launch its Surface tabletsin India, and it's taken even longer for the Surface Bookand Surface Laptop to arrive. This family of devices is meant to showcase Windows to the best possible extent - they're all unapologetically premium, but more than that, they're genuinely fresh and interesting. Microsoft is competing with its own partners by pushing out PC hardware, and is emphasising design and engineering to set itself apart. It's pretty obvious that Apple's success integrating hardware and software has influenced this strategy.

Of all the Surface devices, the Surface Laptop is the most conventional. It isn't a 2-in-1, and it doesn't have a fancy engineered hinge or kickstand. It's meant to strike a balance between portability and productivity, and will appeal to those for whom the Surface Pro with its keyboard cover won't cut it.

Microsoft Surface Laptop design

Everyone who sees photos of the Surface Laptop will want to know how its fabric deck feels, and honestly, it isn't easy to describe even though we've used it before on the Surface Pro's Type Cover. Alcantara is a material that's 68 percent polyester and 32 percent polyurethane, and it's a bit like suede with a slightly waxy coating. It isn't perfectly smooth, but it doesn't have the texture of cloth either. It didn't fray or come undone even when we scratched it hard, and it's moulded like plastic around the keyboard tray. The Alcantara extends all the way to the edges of the deck and is pinched down, leaving room for a fingernail to help you lift the lid when it's closed.

The material is supposed to be resistant to spills and stains, and Microsoft even says it can be cleaned with warm water and mild soap, two things we wouldn't want anywhere near a laptop. We can't yet say how well it will hold up to long-term use, especially for people who tend to use their gadgets while eating.

It's worth pointing out that the fabric has one major downside - it's permanently stuck on to the metal chassis. The only way to replace or repair anything on the inside of this laptop is to rip the layers apart with a knife, and there's no putting it back together after that. In fact, when the Surface Laptop first launched in the USA, it famously received a repairability index score of zero from iFixit.

As for the rest of this laptop, it's fairly minimalist but still very noticeable. The lid has a simple matte aluminium finish, but with a prominent and highly reflective Windows logo in the centre. Microsoft has said that it isn't bringing the Burgundy, Cobalt Blue, or Graphite Gold options to India, which is a pity. The lid is pretty thin and it does bend and flex under pressure, but surprisingly there's no distortion whatsoever on the screen. The hinge is sunken and completely hidden under the fabric layer. It feels firm, and at least on our brand new unit, the lid didn't fall even if it was left just barely open. Overall, despite its waif-like appearance, the Surface Laptop seems to be built very well.

The lack of connectivity will be a huge concern for many buyers. The Surface Laptop is even more minimalist than the MacBook Air, with only a single USB 3.0 port, a 3.5mm audio socket, and a Mini-DisplayPort for video output. There isn't even an SD card slot. Many ultraportables are light on ports, but the Surface Laptop isn't even that thin or light. In this day and age we would have expected USB Type-C and preferred Thunderbolt 3, but most people will be fine with the far more common Type-A standard.

Your only relief comes in the form of Microsoft's Surface Connect Port, the tab-like slot on the right used by the bundled charger, which also supports Microsoft's Surface Dock. This accessory will give you four more USB 3.0 ports, two more Mini-DisplayPorts, Gigabit Ethernet and another audio output, but it's listed for Rs. 17,560 online in India, which is an absurd amount to pay.

The ports are also a little hard to reach thanks to the Surface Laptop's inward-slanting sides. Slotting the charger into the narrow Surface Connect Port in particular is an extremely fiddly process, and we wound up having to lift the laptop and bend over to see exactly what we were doing each time.

Next to the ports on either side of this laptop are white patches that look a lot like the antenna lines that are now common on smartphones. They stand out quite distinctly, and unfortunately they look like additional ports or slots that have been blanked out.

The keyboard has one major quirk, which is the placement of the power button. Microsoft obviously wanted the Delete key to be in the corner above the Backspace key, but we found ourselves still likely to hit the power button by accident. It also isn't flatter or stiffer than the keys surrounding it, which would have been the obvious precaution to take. The Fn row has been displaced by the paging keys and various shortcuts, but you can swap the keys' primary and secondary roles by simply tapping the Fn modifier once, which is quite convenient.

The Surface Laptop is only 14.47mm thick at its thickest point, and weighs only 1.25kg. It's super portable and super convenient to whip out of a sling bag or backpack. The only thing you get in the box with the Surface Laptop is its proprietary 44W charger, and we love its integrated USB port. You might not have enough ports on the laptop itself, but you can at least charge your phone on the go. However, we found the power cable to be a bit too short.

Microsoft Surface Laptop specifications and software

Microsoft is selling the Surface Laptop in five different configurations, ranging in price from Rs. 86,999 to Rs. 2,33,999. At the bottom of the stack you get an Intel Core i5-7200U CPU with integrated Intel HD Graphics 620, 8GB of RAM, and a 128GB SSD. The top-end variant has a Core i7-7660U processor with Intel Iris Plus Graphics 640, 16GB of RAM, and a 1TB SSD. This is a pretty wide range, and so the Surface Laptop competes with premium thin-and-light models including the MacBook Air as well as luxury laptops and 2-in-1s such as the Lenovo Yoga 920 and Dell XPS 13 9370. It's worth noting that these 7th Gen Intel Core processors are nearly two years old and significantly weaker than current offerings. It's also surprising that Microsoft has launched such expensive variants here but not the entry-level ones with Core m3 processors and 4GB of RAM.

We're reviewing the variant priced at Rs. 1,14,999, which has the Core i5, 8GB of RAM, and 256GB of storage. Considering that the RAM and SSD are soldered to the motherboard and there's no access to them anyway, you're going to want to account for future needs right from the start. Upgrades are simply not possible.

The touchscreen measures 13.5 inches diagonally but has a unique old-school 3:2 aspect ratio. Microsoft chose this squarish shape for its Surface tablets, and it makes sense when trying to use a device in portrait or landscape. While the look is consistent here, it isn't necessarily useful. You might think of it as extra vertical space or reduced width. It isn't the best choice if you watch a lot of videos or need to work on two documents side by side, but it works well for general productivity.

The resolution is completely non-standard at 2256x1504, and makes for a density of 201ppi. Windows 10 scales to 150 percent by default and we found this to be comfortable and crisp. This might not be a 2-in-1, but the touchscreen can still come in handy. We didn't wind up using touch a lot, but it's always nice to have. The Surface Pen is supported, but won't be particularly comfortable to use.

One thing that we don't often see even on premium laptops is an ambient light sensor, which means that brightness adjusts itself automatically. Above the screen is also a 720p webcam and the sensors needed to support Windows Hello face recognition. Stereo speakers are embedded beneath the keyboard. Microsoft isn't publishing an exact battery capacity, but iFixit has discovered that it's a 45.2Whr unit. It's rated for 14.5 hours of video playback which is impressive on paper, but we'll see shortly how well it really performs.

Our review unit was running Windows 10 Pro. The Surface Laptop was initially meant to ship running Windows 10 S, a reduced-functionality version of Windows. Somewhat like Windows RT, Windows 10 S made Edge and Bing the default Web browser and search engine respectively, without any ability to change them. Users could also only install apps from the Windows Store rather than just downloading anything they like. This was meant to usher users into an iOS-like walled garden, but due to massive backlash, this edition of Windows has been discontinued. Instead, the Surface Laptop ships with Windows 10 in "S Mode", which behaves the same. This mode can be disabled at no cost - as long as you find an option that's buried within the Microsoft Store app. With no clear direction, this might confuse a lot of buyers who just want to download Google Chrome or any other common software.

from Blogger https://ift.tt/2vvzyoq via My Channel on YouTube

[equalmeasurefiction]

Scene 2.1.6.4- Unspeakable

I have strong feelings about this scene.  None of them good.

Equal Measure Navigation

2.1.6.3- Apologies 2.1.6.3.5- The Little Equalist 2.1.6.5- Shame

Part 1 Master Post

<> <> <>

Amon excused himself around five-thirty am.  He had business to attend to.  Sato followed the Equalist Leader out, muttering about getting some rest before drafting more war machines in his workshop.  The lieutenant, Lu Zhen, remained behind to finish editing a few files and to keep an eye on the ex-bender, Councilman Tarrlok.

Zhen hadn’t volunteered to stay behind.  Amon had asked him to keep an eye on the conniving politician.  The Equalist Leader had told his lieutenant that he trusted him to keep a clear head in the presence of the vile man.  Zhen, flattered, had quickly agreed to the task, but now that he was stuck in the dim, remote room with the ex-blood bender, he regretted his enthusiasm.

As soon the lieutenant was alone with the broken politician, he’d moved his chair.  He situated himself so that he sat opposite the councilman. He wanted the table between them so that the solid wooden surface could be used as a barrier or shield if the ex-bender turned violent.  But what had seemed like a solid strategic move had an unfortunate consequence…

Whenever Zhen looked up from his work, he found himself looking at the councilman’s static, emotionless face.

In the past, the lieutenant had hated the sight of the councilman’s face, because the man had always worn a look of smug superiority.  Now, the sight of Tarrlok’s face made him uncomfortable, because it was so empty.  It was as though some vital spark within the despicable politician had been dimmed to the point of extinction.  He appeared lifeless, and it was only the steady rise and fall of his chest that suggested the man was still alive.

So, Zhen did his best to keep his eyes on his work, but with every passing moment it became more difficult to attend to the stack of files in front of him.  After working an extra three hours on the files, he was exhausted and progressively losing his ability to focus.  Worse still, the batteries in the Future Industries lanterns were on their last legs.  There was probably less than an hour’s worth of energy left in them.  The light flickered with increasing regularity, throwing strange and ominous shadows on the walls.

As the darkness drew closer and the light dimmed, Zhen found his eyes growing weary and his mind wandering. He pondered the silent man across from him and bit by bit the events of the earlier meeting began to weigh on his mind. The interaction between Amon and Tarrlok troubled him and he found himself mentally reviewing every interaction he’d witnessed between the two men…

He decided then and there that he was finished with the files.  There was nothing more he could do in these horrible conditions.  He’d deliver them to Amon and hope for the best. His eyes were tired from strain and his mind, exhausted from stress and the sleepless night, could no longer focus on the content in front of him.  His mind was swimming with questions and suppositions about his superior officer and the politician seated in front of him…

It was driving him crazy.

He needed a break.

He sat back in his chair and stretched; lifting his arm overhead, arching his back, and letting his head fall back. His long fingers folded together as he turned his palms upward to pull the kinks out of arms and relieve his aching back.  His eyes slipped closed and he groaned in pleasure.

As he slowly settled back into his seat, he smiled and sighed.  His head felt clear again.

But as soon as he opened his eyes, he found himself staring at Tarrlok.  The councilman hadn’t moved an inch in all the time they’d been sitting alone in the room.  The politician slouched in his chair, his empty, soulless eyes were focused on a point somewhat above and to the left of the lieutenant.  His long, straight hair and fallen down to hang around his long, angular face and his fancy clothes were rumpled and unkempt.  He looked worn down and tired, but it was possibly a trick of the light.  The long, deep shadows in the room settled along the countless lines of the face, exaggerating and warping features.

Even the handsomest man could appear haggard and hideous in this light.

Now that Zhen was looking at the councilman, he found that he couldn’t tear his eyes away and the cruel thoughts that tormented him roared to the forefront of his mind.  His jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed into hateful slits.  Jealousy, contemptible and poisonous, gnawed at his insides.

He drew in a deep, unsteady breath and pushed himself to his feet.  He began to gather up the remaining files on the table, moving slowly and methodically as he struggled to keep his mind on the task before him…

But his tired brain would not let him forget what he’d seen.

He could not deny what he had witnessed, could he?  Amon and Tarrlok had shared a moment during the meeting and, in watching their interactions, Zhen could only come to one conclusion: they had a history.  A history that was old and complex and bitter. And the Lieutenant was certain that whatever feelings had existed between the two men were still there, just beneath the surface.

He wanted to pretend that it wasn’t true, but how could it be anything but?  He’d never seen anyone toy with Amon before.  He hadn’t believed it was possible.  Tarrlok, however, had seemed to know exactly how to provoke the Equalist Leader.  And all throughout the meeting the two men had shared looks…

Zhen had seen warmth and concern in his superior’s eyes when he’d looked at the vile councilman. There had been real warmth and concern in his expression.  At times the lieutenant had believed that his commander was simply searching for the right words to say to ease Tarrlok’s suffering.

Ease Tarrlok’s suffering!?

Against his better judgement, Zhen cast a glance at Tarrlok.  He nearly jumped when he saw that the ex-blood bender’s eyes were on him.

Zhen met the councilman’s cold, empty eyes with a stony, angry leer.  Tarrlok simply raised a brow and tilted his head slightly as if to ask, ‘yes, and?’

The lieutenant turned away sharply and continued gathering papers from the table.  His lips pulled into a thin, hard line and he frowned.

Why did Amon care about this wretched excuse for a human being!?  Why had the Equalist Leader seemed so contrite after he’d finally snapped at Tarrlok—after the councilman had baited him no less?

Zhen’s fingers gently caressed the paper in front of him.  He froze as his mind replayed the entire conflict.

… when that terrible confrontation had occurred…

…the way they’d looked at each other…

It was as though there was a terrible open wound, festering between them…

But why had Amon seemed so eager to heal the injury and Tarrlok so quick to seemingly reject every overture?—as if the very thought of trying to right the wrong was abhorrent to him!? As if the councilman had been the injured party!?

And how dare Tarrlok refuse Amon’s efforts to make amends?  It was astounding to think the Equalist Leader would ever even ask a blood bender—even a former one—for forgiveness!

And what was the councilman’s problem?  Was the grievance, the trespass, so completely vile and despicable that no amount of kindness or undeserved compassion could possibly earn the politician’s forgiveness!?  Whatever had happened, the politician probably deserved it!

Nevertheless, the lieutenant ground his teeth.  How dare that man reject Amon’s good will!?

The Equalist leader did not give his trust, his kindness… his forgiveness lightly.  Watching his commander’s attempts at reconciliation so viciously and coldly trod upon stung!  Especially when such benevolence was offered to someone so vile and undeserving!

…especially when it was not given half so easily to Amon’s most loyal followers…

Zhen flipped a file closed with far more force than necessary and slammed it down on top of the stack he was assembling.  He immediately reached for the next one, unaware of how violent his movements had become.

There was a soft “ahem,” from the man across from him.

Zhen looked up sharply. His eyes met the curious gaze of the councilman, now seated comfortably across from him.

The two men stared each other down.

This man, this vile, ex-bender, had provoked such powerful and extraordinary reactions from the Equalist Leader.  He’d known just what to say and how to say it…  He’d made Amon into his puppet with just a few words…

Zhen bristled in umbrage at the memory of the interaction.  His eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched, and his nostrils flared as he fumed.

What right did a filthy blood bender have to know the great, just, and formidable Amon so well?

What had occurred between the two men in the past that led Amon to treat Tarrlok with so much care and… affection?

What led the arrogant councilman to harbor such cold and completely underserved resentment for the man under the mask?

Zhen picked up a few more files, but his movements slowed as he silently considered the man who was seated across from him.

How could two men who were so different, whose lives were so divergent, share such an intimate knowledge of each other?

And then the most abhorrent question popped into Zhen’s head…

Could Amon and Tarrlok have been lovers?

The very thought of the possibility made Zhen’s flesh crawl and his head spin, but he couldn’t stop himself from wondering if… once… long ago… Amon had loved this vile, proud, and ruthless bender…

The lieutenant couldn’t believe he was pondering such blasphemous, traitorous things!  It was unthinkable!  Amon and Tarrlok!?  Lovers? It was ridiculous!

And yet it seemed to explain so much!

But an even worse thought followed on the tail of the first…

What if Amon still loved Tarrlok?

For a brief moment, Zhen thought that the room was spinning around him.  He clutched at the table for support as he contemplated the terrible, horrible possibility. 

But as Zhen thought back, he couldn’t help but feel like everything added up…

The familiar way that Amon and Tarrlok spoke to each other…  The way that the Equalist Leader had defaulted to the councilman’s opinions and expertise…  The fact that the masked man trusted the vile politician and took him at his word—as if Tarrlok weren’t a lying, scheming, evil bully of a bender!

But the councilman’s behavior had to be considered as well, and Tarrlok had been completely compliant… even helpful throughout this fiasco.   Whatever Amon asked, the councilman did without question or struggle. Yes, he was surly about it, but he didn’t complain or resist at all.  There hadn’t been a single escape attempt or rebellion since he’d left his cell…

… Except when Sato had called the politician a corrupt and evil man… But even then, Tarrlok had made no move to physically attack his captors…  Instead he’d simply said horrible things about them…

Right up until he pushed Amon too far…

But none of it made any sense to the lieutenant.  The councilman had said nothing that, on the surface, seemed particularly inflammatory, but the way Amon had reacted to the politician’s words… It was like Tarrlok had spoken in some sort of code.

With just a few words the ex-blood bender transformed Amon into a stranger, a terrifying figure that Zhen did not recognize and would never have recognized as his esteemed commander.

But Tarrlok had known the man that Amon had become.  There was something in the way he cowered and in the way he smiled as soon as Amon’s expression turned to horror—like he’d just seen an old friend after a long absence… He’d known that the Equalist Leader had that horrible persona in him.  He’d known how to draw it out…

He knew Amon so well…

… and Amon knew Tarrlok.

They had to have been lovers.

Nothing else explained the intimacy that existed between the two men.

The thought made Zhen’s blood boil.  A muscle in his face, just beneath his right eye, twitched as his mind began wonder how close the two men had been.  Just how far had this relationship progressed?

Had they embraced?   Shared a few passionate kisses…?

Oh, it had to have gone much further than that.  This was Amon after all!

The lieutenant’s face flushed and bile rose in his throat.

They had to have been intimate.  They’d probably shared a bed… probably regularly…  They’d probably lived under the same roof for months!

Tarrlok probably knew every intimate detail about Amon’s personal life and preferences…

Zhen’s grip on the files in his hand tightened as his mind conjured images of the intimacies the two men had very likely shared.  Tender moments, affectionate touches, soft smiles, laughter… all the things that the lieutenant had longed to share with his commander for years.

He’d always felt that to some degree Amon had shared that desire for a deeper relationship between them. The thought of the Equalist Leader sharing those quiet, private moments with another… with Councilman Tarrlok!...

It hurt.

It hurt so badly.

Amon had probably fallen prey to Tarrlok’s striking, Northern looks and wicked charms.  He’d probably doted on the blood bender and adored the other man… But Zhen couldn’t imagine Tarrlok reciprocating Amon’s feelings. How could a man as vain and hateful as the ambitious blood bender possibly love the scarred visage of the Equalist Leader?

Or could it be that Tarrlok was the reason that Amon hid his face behind a mask and resisted every overture of a real and lasting connection?

Zhen stared down at the files in his hand and forced himself to stop squeezing them so hard.  He took a few deep breaths and tried to reign in his imagination.

The lieutenant began to carefully adjust the files and papers to make sure they were all facing the same direction as he reassured himself that there was no way that Amon could ever wrong a blood bender!  Perhaps he’d briefly loved Tarrlok, perhaps he still felt a lingering connection to the evil man, but Amon couldn’t possibly have wronged the politician.

No, Tarrlok was a manipulative abuser.  Whatever had happened between the two men… the councilman had to be the one who was in the wrong.  Or if Amon had wronged the councilman, it was probably something pathetic and mundane. The politician was notoriously petty after all…

And really, it was completely unthinkable that someone as noble and good could love a man as terrible as the ex-blood bender.

Perhaps Tarrlok had once saved Amon’s life and asked Amon to fulfill his obligations with a deep and personal favor?  Perhaps, due to extenuating circumstances, Amon had failed to live up to his side of the bargain?  A man with Amon’s sense of honor would feel deeply responsible if such a debt existed and went unpaid.

Maybe they’d been friends once and Amon had accidently caused harm to someone in Tarrlok’s family?

Really, his exhaustion was getting ahead of him.  All those little moments during the meeting were probably nothing.  Just his over-active imagination!  It was much more likely that it was an unfulfilled debt or a matter of honor.

Amon was just trying to restore his honor, protect his followers.

But now that he thought about it…

Zhen could recall times when the Equalists had pushed Amon to make an example of Tarrlok.  The Equalist Leader had resisted his subordinates’ pleading. He’d insisted that there were other, better targets.  When the Equalists had demanded that the northern councilman be forcibly removed from power and laid low, the masked commander had turned their attention to other proud and ruthless benders.  There were countless other instances when the Equalists had spoken out against the politician and his vicious tactics, and yet Amon had dismissed every attempt to prioritize the removal of the vile councilor and his bending.  Instead, the Equalist Leader had targeted other men and women in Tarrok’s place…

Zhen froze.  His eyes widened sharply.  He stared at the files in his hand in shock.

… he’d been protecting him.

By the spirits, Amon had been protecting that vile and ruthless man all this time!

What had happened between them to cause Amon to pursue such outrageous and blind efforts to protect that vile monster?

Zhen’s eyes slid closed as he thought back to the exchange he’d witnessed earlier.  Tarrlok had gone after each of them in turn, exposing how much he knew and twisting the truth to suite his ends.  What he’d said about Sato had been shocking, horrible, and clearly malicious slander.

The councilman had turned on Zhen once he was done with Sato.  The lieutenant had been surprised when Tarrlok had chewed him out for not having ambition.  Of all the wicked things that the Equalist had expected to have thrown in his face, his loyalty to the revolution was not one of them.

In the end, Zhen had chalked Tarrlok’s view of his choices up to a natural difference between the them. After all, the councilman was evil and selfish.  How could he possibly understand the nobility and good inherent in the Revolution?  Did he really expect the lieutenant to be ashamed of his choice in supporting the greater good?

But then Tarrlok had turned on Amon and his demeanor had changed drastically.

The councilman had been cruel when he’d addressed the industrialist and the lieutenant, but his expression had been akin to that of a wounded animal striking out at its attackers. Zhen found himself viewing Tarrlok’s words as a last, desperate assault against his enemies.  But when he’d gone after Amon, he’d looked less like a wounded dog and more like a rabid one.

The lieutenant still couldn’t quite make sense of the councilman’s words.  The politician had asked Amon when he would be ‘satisfied’—as though Amon were insatiable.  But the Equalist Leader was hardly a demanding man.  Zhen had been with his commander long enough to know that he was reasonable and asked for very little for himself.  His greatest demands were reserved for society at large, and they were simple enough.

All Amon wanted was a world where everyone could live without fear of violence, oppression, and persecution.  An equal, fair world, where there were no benders to terrorize the non-bending populace.

How could it be wrong to make such demands, when they were in the hearts and minds of so many people? Was it evil of him to seek to spread this great and noble dream to other nations?  Was it so wrong to mandate that all places in the world become safe for all people?

Tarrlok had rattled on, calling Amon the ‘rightful King of Republic City,’ but that was ridiculous. Republic City had never had a King. Unless the Equalist Leader was secretly related to an ancient, noble lineage in the Earth Kingdom there was no reason for the politician to call him a ‘king.’

Zhen paused in the midst of his paper shuffling.

And yet Tarrlok knew so much about them all…

Was it possible that Amon was… a prince?

He considered it for a moment, and then rejected the idea as he continued to shuffle the files into a new order.

Seeing Amon’s reaction to Tarrlok’s terror had given Zhen pause, and he couldn’t help but hesitate as he recalled the expression on his commander’s face.  For a moment the normally powerful, unflappable, and formidable man had been shaken.  He’d looked vulnerable and afraid, like a child who’d just been caught doing something wrong…

A chill ran down the lieutenant’s spine.  He cast another cautious glance across the table at the man who remained in his seat, still cast in shadows.  Whatever Tarrlok knew, whatever secret he kept… Amon feared its revelation.

For the life of him, Zhen could not understand why.  What could his commander possibly need to hide from his followers?  What secret could be so dark and dire?

His eyes narrowed sharply as a new question occurred to him.

Why spare the secret keeper?

He studied the councilman pensively.  His brow furrowed and pinched his lips into a thin line.

Why would Tarrlok willingly agree to keep Amon’s secret?  After all that, the politician said that he would not share the information. But why?  The councilman seemed to have so much power over the masked commander. Why would the politician bury this truth when they both seemed to know that it could destroy the Equalist Leader by the hands of his followers?

Did he hope to use this great and terrible secret as leverage?

If so, he was a fool. No matter what sentiment lingered between them, Zhen was certain that Amon would not protect Tarrlok forever. After all, no man willingly protected his blackmailer.  He couldn’t imagine anyone’s passions running so deep as to cause a lasting affection between two enemies…  Amon’s marriage to the Avatar was going to be quite an interesting farce for that very reason…

The Avatar.

Zhen’s eyes widened and he sucked in a breath..

The day that she’d been publically humiliated she’d made a grand stand of announcing that she knew the truth about Amon.  The lieutenant had dismissed her words outright, but now he wasn’t so sure.

He blinked rapidly as he struggled to remember exactly what she’d said, but the words weren’t coming. He frowned.  She’d mentioned a secret, though…

A secret…

The air left him and a terrible chill settled into his bones.

The Avatar knew.

Tarrlok and the Avatar had been sharing a cellblock.  Had he…?

He’d told her Amon’s secret.

He’d shared the Equalist Leader’s dark past.

The councilman had given the Avatar the same advantage that he enjoyed.  That was two ex-benders with the power to use their knowledge against the Equalist! And he was taking both of them with him on this mad journey to escape from the forces of the Water Tribe!  Was he insane?!

Or did he expect Tarrlok to… comply and help him control the Avatar?

But that made no sense! How could Amon believe that Tarrlok would change sides so easily?  Why would the councilman comply with the Equalist Agenda?  They’d never given him reason to favor them and the politician had clearly hated Equalists!  Why, he’d been ready to lock away even the lowliest chi-blocker for life and there were rumors that he was looking to abolish many of Avatar Aang’s laws against capital punishment for non-blood bending prisoners!

But then why had Tarrlok been so compliant today if he hated Equalists so much?

He hadn’t fought or resisted at all.  The councilman had meekly followed Amon throughout the day and obeyed every request without the slightest opposition.  There’d been no need to restrain him or subdue him, he’d acted like a well-trained dog…

Tarrlok had said he knew Amon by a single touch.

The lieutenant clenched his teeth and swallowed back the bile that rose in his throat as he recalled the councilman’s comment about how well he knew the Equalist Leader.  His mouth twisted into a frown of intense bitterness and disgust—as though he’d just swallowed something truly vile.

They had to have been intimate in the past!  How else could the councilman have recognized the Equalist Leader by a single touch! To think that the noble and honorable Amon had been seduced by that vile, despicable monster… it was too horrible!

Poor Amon!  Scarred by a fire bender, trifled with by a blood bender—probably tortured by the cruel man!  No wonder the Equalist Leader was filled with so much rage!  To have been abused and betrayed so viciously!  It was unimaginable!

If only Zhen had known sooner, he might have been less aggressive in his overtures.  Was it any wonder that his commander rejected his advances after having suffered at the hands of the evil councilman?  There could be no blame laid upon the Amon.  He was a victim of Tarrlok’s evil passions!

But if they were intimate… if they had been that close…

Then of course Tarrlok would know Amon’s darkest secrets… … and of course, Amon would know Tarrlok’s darkest secrets!

It all made sense now!

The councilman’s docile behavior, his impotent threats of revealing Amon’s secrets!  Tarrlok still had a dark secret he hoped to bury, but the Equalist Leader knew his secret!  He would behave as long as the scarred man kept his peace!

The lieutenant snuck another glance at the ex-bender across the table as he turned the stack of files and papers in his hand once more.  He’d been a blood bender until Amon had purified him.  It was hard to imagine that Tarrlok had secrets darker than his horrible abilities, but there had to be something that the Equalist Leader held over him.  Something that he could use to force the politician’s compliance.

… but compliance wasn’t guaranteed on the road…

And it was clear to Zhen that Amon still had feelings for Tarrlok.  The lieutenant couldn’t help but worry about what would happen when the councilman realized that there was no one to hide from.  Would he kill his scarred ex-lover and make off with the Avatar himself?

Amon clearly didn’t think Tarrlok would hurt him, but men had been blinded by love before.

“You’ve been shuffling those files for the past twenty minutes.”

Zhen jumped at the sound of the councilman’s smooth tenor.  He looked up to see a pair of icy blue eyes staring at him curiously through the flickering darkness.  The mustached lieutenant glanced down at the large stack of files in his hands.  “I suppose I am finished here.” He said coolly. He set the files down on the table and rested a protective hand on them.

A heavy silence settled between them.  The lieutenant felt tense as he stared at the handsome water tribe politician seated across from him.  After all, Tarrlok was very likely Amon’s ex-lover.  If things had been different, Zhen might have been Amon’s new lover…

He felt like a character in one of the trashy novellas he wrote in his spare time.  Zhen was the good wife.  Tarrlok was the specter of ‘the other woman’—an intimidating and seductive figure who was everything the good woman could never be; the living embodiment of the hero’s darker lusts.

If things were different, if Zhen were Amon’s lover, then this would play out as a triumphant moment.  Tarrlok would goad and taunt him, but the lieutenant would remind the proverbial ‘other woman’ of his triumph.  But the unfortunate reality was that they’d both lost.

There was no happy ending…

Though perhaps Tarrlok would seduce the emotionally vulnerable Amon on the road and they would become lovers again… making the Avatar twice as vulnerable and alone.

Was that what Amon hoped for?

For a moment Zhen thought his heart would break.

Did Amon really hope that Tarrlok would come back to him?  After all this time?  Was he still in love with him?  Had all those subtle comments and kind words—those brief moments of passing flirtation when Zhen had felt truly certain that Amon saw him as more than a mere loyal follower—had that been nothing but a passing fancy to the Equalist Leader?

The councilman broke the silence again, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry, but…?” Those cold blue eyes continued to peer at him with great curiosity.

Even in the flickering darkness, Zhen could see that Tarrlok watched him with one brow raised.  But the lieutenant had no kind feelings for the blood bender.  “Spit it out!” he snapped.

“What exactly is your relationship with Amon?” The politician asked.  His voice was soft and he sounded concerned.

Zhen tensed, his jaw muscles clenched and he glared viciously at Tarrlok.

That wasn’t a question! That was an admission!  There was no other reason he’d ask that question, unless they’d been lovers!  He was assessing the presumed ‘new blood!’  He was sizing up his rival!

Zhen’s mouth snarled and he bared his teeth in anger.  “None of your business.”

Tarrlok’s face pulled into something between a grimace of disgust and a smug sneer. “That close, huh? Didn’t think he’d go for that, considering his interests back then.” The politician snorted in a way that wasn’t entirely dismissive and looked away.  “I guess that shows what I know.”

Zhen bridled at the insult. Did Tarrlok think that Amon’s unspoken preference for a non-bender, such as himself, was in bad taste?  But then what else could he expect of a blood bending tyrant!?  The councilman grimaced in disgust at the very thought of love between two non-bending men!  It was astounding that the haughty politician had ever deigned to lower himself to be with the scarred man!

The lieutenant was so busy being outraged that it took him a moment to notice that Tarrlok was making choking sounds.  But as soon as he heard those soft noises, he realized that what he’d taken for a grimace of disgust was the closest thing to a smile that the northern politician could manage.  The councilman let out a dry, unpleasant chuckle—it might have been a soft, broken cough—as he leaned forward.  His noble, handsome features slid into the dim, rapidly blinking light, even as his pale blue eyes fell into shadow.  Nevertheless, Zhen could feel the councilman watching him.

“That’s rather unsafe,” Tarrlok said.  “Don’t you know that men like him just use people up and toss them aside like they’re nothing?”

Zhen tensed, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to leave the room or strike out at the man across from him. In the end he kept his temper in check by reminding himself that Amon trusted him to watch Tarrlok.

“What would you know about it?” The lieutenant did his best to sound unaffected, but he couldn’t quite keep the strain out of his voice.

Tarrlok was quiet for a moment.  The shadows around him seemed to deepen and some tension or energy drained from his flesh, because it looked like he was sinking into himself.  Then he said, “I know him.”

Zhen turned away sharply, his eyes searched the darkness behind him, but it offered no easy distraction. He walked to one of the Future Industries lanterns and toyed with the dials, adjusting it so that the light stopped flickering.  As he worked, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly, collecting himself.   Then he spoke, “You keep saying that, but really, you have no evidence.”  He swallowed and cast a glance over his shoulder at the politician across the table, “There is no reason for me be to believe you know anything about Amon at all…”

“I suppose I can’t convince you.  You clearly don’t trust me, but the truth is that I know him.” Tarrlok gave him a smirk, “And I know him far better than you. I mean, really, what has he shared with you?  His ideals? His tales of a terrible past?  His bed…?”

Zhen flinched and turned sharply away.

“Oh.  Good enough to keep around, but not good enough for that.” Tarrlok chuckled.  “You’re lucky.  He must actually respect you enough not to use you.” 

“What is that supposed to mean!?” Zhen snapped.

“You really don’t know him at all, do you?  For all his lofty ideals he’s quite a despicable man,” Tarrlok said coldly. The lights flickered out of time causing the shadows to move strangely across his face, making him appear more like a grim specter than a human.  “The kind of man who chews people up and spits them out when he’s finished with them.”

Zhen bridled, enraged by the councilman’s cruel words about his esteemed leader.  “That’s a lie!”

One of the lanterns went out, shrouding the upper half of Tarrlok’s face in shadow.  But Zhen could clearly see the politician’s smirk and the glint of his blue eyes as he said, “And how would you know?  You know Amon, but you don’t know the man behind the mask, do you?  He likes that, doesn’t he?  When people are just far enough away that he doesn’t seem entirely human?  When people admire him?”

Zhen’s head swam with rage. He swore that the room was tilting onto its side.  He gasped, struggling to draw air into his lungs, which seemed to have seized up. “You…” he panted, “You disgusting, despicable, vile, evil…!”

The politician watched him struggle with a quiet smile.  “Does it really bother you that much?  The thought that you’re wrong about him?”  The lights flickered again, lanterns coming back on as others switched off, so that Tarrlok’s eyes became visible as he looked down his nose at the lieutenant, “Or are you so consumed by jealousy and pent-up lust that you can’t see how he’s using you?”

Zhen had been born in Republic City.  His parents had kept a flat near the docks in the middle of Red Monsoon territory. Whenever the triad felt pressed or troubled, they buckled down on the non-benders in the area.  Every few months, members of the triad would cycle through and extort payment from the families living in their region of the city.

Zhen had been a rebellious boy and something of an upstart as a young man.  As a result, he became quite familiar with their various techniques for forcing compliance from those who lived under the authority of the local triad.  Now, the Red Monsoons kept several blood benders in their number, but none of them were anything like Tarrlok.  They could only bend during the full moon.  So, the gang had to come up with methods of torturing non-compliant non-benders when there was no full moon.

Zhen had tested them repeatedly and learned exactly how creative the thugs could be.  There was a particular form of torture that the lieutenant had become quite familiar with in his late teens that the triad reserved for ‘special thorns in their side.’  It involved letting droplets of water fall upon a single point in the middle of the victim’s forehead.  Over the course of long hours, even days, those droplets would continue to fall at a steady pace.

Claustrophobia set in after an hour from the restraints alone.  After three hours the pressure would begin to build.  The pain came gradually after that.  A slow, gradual creep that built into skull-splitting agony. Zhen had been left under the drip for eight hours once.  He’d been cold and wet and half-mad from the agony.  There were nights that he woke to the sound of the drip of water and he’d be unable to return to sleep.  He knew men who’d sat under the drip far longer than him, who’d gone mad from it.

Tarrlok’s presence at Amon’s side was like that torture.  Every overly curt exchange, every subtle insult—insults Amon permitted—every show of disrespect, every quiet glance exchanged between the two men, every breath they drew in the same room, every second that Amon treated the councilman like he belonged at his side was like the slow drip of water onto a single point on Zhen’s forehead.  The pain had built up so slowly that he’d barely noticed it, but now he could not deny the nearly blinding pressure in his skull.

The blood bender’s comments about knowing Amon, the slanderous comments, the digs about Zhen’s feelings… they were the metaphorical ‘final drop’ that sent him over the edge.

Zhen spun and slammed his hand down on the table, “How do you know him?!” he howled.  “How can you know him?!  What would a man like Amon want with a vile, despicable, cruel, evil blood bender like you?!” He leaned over the table, his hands clawing at the surface between them.  He watched Tarrlok shoot back in his seat, hands grabbing at his chair to keep himself upright as he recoiled from the lieutenant.  Zhen felt his bones had burrowed through the fleshy pads of his fingers and into the wood.  “You asked me what I am to him, well, I can tell you that I’m clearly nothing compared to you!  So, now it’s my turn to ask, what are you to him!?  Why would he trust a monster like you?!”  He bit of the words with the ferocity of a tiger bear and when he was done speaking his teeth were clenched so tightly that he didn’t think he’d be able to pry them open ever again.  His lips were pulled back in a furious snarl, his every breath shuddered with explosive rage, and he felt as though his brow was furrowed so deeply that his eyebrows had merged into one long, steep ‘v’ on his forehead.

Across the table, Tarrlok cowered in the dim shadows.  His eyes were wide with fear and every part of his body was as tense as a deer rabbit that’d found itself in the sights of a jackal cat.  The lieutenant could just see the councilman’s white-knuckled grip on the seat of his chair.

Zhen calmed and straightened, retreating to his side of the table.  He was troubled by the look of abject terror on the other man’s face.   Tarrlok was a blood bender.  There was no reason for him to be afraid of a non-bender.  After all, what had a non-bender ever done to him?  What could a non-bender do to him?

As soon as the lieutenant calmed and withdrew, Tarrlok began to uncoil.  He sat up straight and forward in his chair and carefully arranged himself so he looked more presentable.  It was, Zhen realized, a bid to make himself feel a little more like he was in control of the situation.

“I…” the blood bender began, but he paused, his eyes darted nervously, and he fidgeted in his chair. It seemed he was having difficulty collecting his thoughts or even guessing at where to begin.  Then he looked up at Zhen, incredulous, “Trust me? You think this is trust?” he asked.

Zhen growled and brought his fist down on the table.  “Why else would he keep you with him throughout this mess?!”

Tarrlok looked away sharply, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.  “I believe…” he swallowed and drew into himself, “it’s because he promised…” his eyes widened again and he stopped speaking abruptly, as though he’d just realized what he’d been about to say.  He shook his head sharply.  “No. It’s been too long for that to hold any meaning.  I’m thirty-seven.  I’m not a child anymore.  He couldn’t possibly be thinking…” he muttered.

Zhen realized that the councilman was speaking more to himself than to his captor.  Nevertheless, the councilman’s comments were revealing. Amon had made a promise?

To whom?

To Tarrlok?

What had he promised?

Zhen leaned forward again, his body clenched with restrained rage.  “Promised what?!  What secrets are you keeping for him!?  Why does he trust you!?”

“This isn’t trust!” Tarrlok snarled as he glared at the lieutenant and leaned forward in his seat.  The shadows shifted around him, deepening the lines on his face and lending his already haggard appearance an aged, malevolent quality.

“What is it, then?!” Zhen was seconds from throwing the table at the blood bender and trying to crush him beneath the heavy wooden piece of furniture.  “Why else would he let you walk free?!”

Anger left the councilman again.  His eyes dropped to the floor, narrowing pensively and giving the man the appearance that he was struggling – struggling! Hah! – to find the reason behind Amon’s actions—as if he didn’t know!

“I’m…”  Tarrlok hesitated, “He made a promise to someone we both cared about…” he spoke slowly as if giving every word great consideration, “It was a long time ago and I guess he’s trying to keep it… in spite of everything…”

Zhen felt some of the tension drain out of him.  What Tarrlok said made sense.  It was just like Amon to try to keep some old promise he’d made long ago, even if everyone else involved had long forgotten about it.  Nevertheless, it was very strange that Amon might keep a promise regarding Tarrlok.

The lieutenant couldn’t stop himself from asking, “What, did he promise to protect you or something?” He’d never heard of something so ridiculous.

A non-bender protecting a bender?

Really?

Tarrlok, however, looked away.  The wild curtain of dark hair obscured his expression, but the mustached lieutenant could just make out a grimace of humiliation and shame on the other man’s face.

Once Zhen realized what the councilman’s expression gave away, he took an involuntary step back.

Amon had promised to protect Tarrlok.  But who had coerced such a promise from the Equalist Leader?  Why had Amon agreed to such a ridiculous thing?  How had any of this come to pass?

Most importantly:  Did this mean they hadn’t been lovers?

Aloud, he asked: “Who would ever ask anyone to look after you?  And why would Amon ever agree to such a thing?”

Zhen could just barely see Tarrlok’s face contorting into a mask of pain as the councilman said: “It doesn’t matter, she’s dead by now.”

A woman.

The tension drained from Zhen’s body.

Oh, thank the spirits.  This was about a woman.

What a relief!

It all made so much sense! In the early years of the Revolution Amon had intermittently taken lovers; young men and women who’d recently joined the equalists and shown their devotion to the cause.  He’d never remained with them for very long—never more than a week—and he never developed any attachment to them.  Zhen had always found his commander’s attitudes toward intimacy strangely out of character, since the Equalist Leader seemed like a man of deep feeling and attachment.

If Amon had lost someone he cared for—such as, say, a woman he might have otherwise married—then he might have trouble becoming intimate again.  Particularly if she’d met a terrible end and Amon feared suffering such a loss again.  And of course he’d want to honor any wish or promise they’d made together, even if it meant protecting a blood bender!

Zhen knew that Amon was a sentimental man, the sort who cared about principle and righteousness. It was something that the lieutenant admired about his commander, but it was the Equalist Leader’s greatest weakness. Amon was, after all, more honorable than most men.  For as long as Zhen had known the masked man, he’d never turned his back on a comrade and he’d always been fair and just to friend and enemy alike—he even gave benders a chance to fight back before he removed their bending!  That was more than anyone else would have ever done!

Of course Amon would keep a foolish, idiotic, promise to the woman he’d once loved!  That was just the sort of man he was!

Zhen was halfway thought imagining the woman and how she’d died, when Tarrlok’s voice cut through his imaginings— “You’ve completely misunderstood everything, haven’t you?”

The lieutenant glanced up to see the blood bender studying him with cool blue eyes.  The councilman had shifted slightly in his seat so that nearly half his face was visible in the dim light of the room.  He seemed to have regained some of his confidence, he was sitting up straight and leaning forward in his chair.

A wicked smirk spread across the blood bender’s face and he leaned forward to rest his arm on the table. There was a cruel spark of amusement in his eyes.

Zhen’s blood ran cold.

Tarrlok arched a brow and let his head fall to one side as he studied Amon’s lieutenant.  Then he said, “Let me explain a few things before your head runs wild with torrid tales of romance.”  He grinned like a fox cat that had just discovered an unguarded nest of turtle duck eggs.  “Now, I can’t tell you everything.  That would land us both in hot water with your… beloved Amon.” The smile vanished from his face.  His mouth pulled into a sharp grimace as he hunched forward over the table and hissed, “Let me assure you that there is nothing romantic about my relationship with your master.”

Zhen’s head jerked back at Tarrlok’s tone.  He’d said the words, ‘your master’ like it was a grievous insult.  Like the councilman had just called him ‘dog.’

“I suppose I haven’t been clear.  I told you, I know Amon, but it’d be more correct to say that I knew the person he was a long time ago.” The councilman snickered, “Why does he trust me?” he asked, mocking Zhen’s demanding question.  “This isn’t trust.  This is how he really is.  He’s a man who keeps his friends close and his enemies closer.  He guards those who threaten his power and position fiercely. After all, it’s easier to keep your enemies in line when they’re in easy striking range.”  Tarrlok laughed again.   “Oh no, he doesn’t trust me at all; but he trusts you.  He trusts you enough to leave you alone with me.”

Zhen felt his cheeks color, even as his heart clenched with worry.  What Tarrlok said made sense.  But what he said… it wasn’t…

That wasn’t who Amon was…

He’d never keep someone close just to… to make sure they could be quickly disciplined!

That wasn’t who Amon was!

Tarrlok’s mouth twisted into a deep and bitter frown.  “Ah, nothing’s really changed has it?  What? Twenty?  Twenty-five years?” The councilman shrugged, “He’s never trusted me with anything.”  He shook his head, “I guess he still sees the same pathetic, worthless failure.” Tarrlok’s gaze tilted toward the floor, letting the dark curtain of his disheveled hair obscure his features. “Who can blame him?”

Failure?

What was Tarrlok talking about?

He was Councilman Tarrlok. He was the man who’d nearly ruled over all of Republic City.  He was the man that the Equalists had consistently named the greatest threat to their Revolution…

And he believed that Amon thought he was a failure?

Zhen’s eyes narrowed.  This had something to do with the woman, didn’t it?

But Tarrlok had said that it wasn’t a torrid romance… but what else could it be?  What other relationship could possibly cause such strife and turmoil?

And anyway, it wasn’t like Zhen could trust a single word out of Tarrlok’s mouth…

But, then… why not put it to the test?  “You know, you’re right.  I have a hard time believing anyone could ever trust you, let alone love you.”

Tarrlok looked up at him in shock and then his face split into a wide, manic grin.  He burst out laughing.  “Of course!  You’re right!” he chortled, “You’ve got me pegged, Lu Zhen!”  Tears began to leak out of the corners of the councilman’s eyes as he continued to chuckle manically, “I’m the loser!  It’s like they say, second child, second best! Even my own parents thought I was a waste of time!”

Zhen looked away, embarrassed by the gross display of emotion.  The man was weeping in front of him.  Ranting about family and his own status as…

Second child…?

Zhen’s eyes were drawn back to Tarrlok as his mind spun with this new information.

Could…?

“Spirits, after everything was said and done, after all that…” the councilman’s face contorted into an expression of agony, “even my own father couldn’t bring himself to look at me…  And I was all he had left!”

Had Amon been in love with Tarrlok’s older sister…?  But of course!  The sort of family that Tarrlok probably came from… what with him being a councilman and all… They wouldn’t have approved of a scarred farm boy like Amon…  Their love would have been forbidden.

Tarrlok would have followed his father’s lead and looked down on Amon.  He would have denied any romance between his noble sister and the good man…  Had he played a role in the loss of Amon’s beloved?

Zhen stared at Tarrlok quietly, brow furrowed in concentration, as he tried to figure him out.

“What did you think of Amon when you knew him?” Zhen asked.

“I loved him and I hated him,” Tarrlok replied tiredly.

Zhen’s eyes widened in horror, “You loved him!?” But Tarrlok had said-! Had he been lying?!  But the woman-!?

“We used to be very close,” Tarrlok continued, “There was a time when we were inseparable.  I looked up to him.”

Zhen’s eyes narrowed in anger.  “Inseparable? You looked up to him?!” He couldn’t believe it!  “Why would Amon have anything to do with a bender? How could he have tolerated a vile monster like you!?  Didn’t you say that you were raised in the North Pole?  What the hell was he doing in the North Pole twenty-five years ago?! He was born and raised in the United Republic!  His family was killed by Fire Benders!”

The councilman nearly leapt out of his seat as he slammed his hand onto the table, “That’s a lie!”

Zhen slid back, his hands rose defensively.  He watched the bender across from him warily.

Tarrlok met Zhen’s wary look with his cold, dead eyes.  “Yes. Amon lied to you.  He lies to everyone.  He lied to me.  He lied to his followers.  He lied to you.”

Zhen’s face morphed into a mask of fury as he slammed his fists down on the table.  “That’s a lie!”  he shouted.  “You don’t know anything!  Why would Amon want to have anything to do with a Blood Bender like you?!”

Tarrlok looked away, shamefaced.  “You can’t choose…” Tarrlok choked on his words.  “Spirits, I can’t even say it!  I hate thinking it!” He buried his face in his hands.  “This is a nightmare!  I wish he’d stayed dead!”

Zhen’s brow furrowed in confusion.  “Amon never died!”

Tarrlok looked at Zhen, his face a mask of pain and anger.  “We thought he’d died!” he shouted.  “It tore us apart!  He had the nerve to leave us behind and do… all this!  He left us to suffer!”

The lieutenant wasn’t sure what to make of Tarrlok’s words, so he stuck with what he knew, “Well he’s not dead!” he retorted.  It was all he could think to say.

The councilman let out a harsh bark of laughter, “Clearly!”

“I don’t know what history you think you have with Amon, but it’s meaningless now!” Zhen snarled. “You’re a filthy blood bender and he’s the leader of the Equalist Revolution!  You’re nothing to him!”

Tarrlok snorted and looked away.  “I wish that were the case.”  He grimaced in pain. “I wish he’d just killed me and been done with it.”

“Why?” Zhen demanded. “Are you ashamed of something you did? Did you betray him?  Blood bend him?”  The lieutenant’s blood was hot.  He was posed to strike at the barest hint of admission.  “Is facing his mercy the worst thing you can imagine for your crimes?”

Tarrlok looked at him, his eyes wide and empty, devoid of any emotion that Zhen could name.  The councilman looked haunted, like he’d seen or experienced something so horrible that nothing else could possibly compare…

It astounded the lieutenant how quickly that strange, disturbed expression morphed into a mask of rage.

“I blood bent him?  I betrayed him?!” Tarrlok squared off against Zhen. “You ignorant, lovesick, fool! You think I’m a monster, but you refuse to see that he is a thousand times worse than I am!”  The councilman’s hair fell around his face as he leaned forward heavily against the table.

Zhen recoiled, but he didn’t back down.  “You!?  Better than Amon!?  I’d like to see that!”

But Tarrlok didn’t seem to be listening, his head had dropped and he was shaking.  “He betrayed us, he left us behind…  After everything, he didn’t care at all!  We were nothing to him!  We were never anything to him!”

Zhen stepped back, his brow furrowed in concern, “What…?  Are you…?”

Tarrlok reached up and clutched his head, his palm pressing into the middle of his forehead.  “He abandoned us with our tormentor!”

The lieutenant felt a chill run down his spine as he looked at Tarrlok.  He recalled other ex-benders, prisoners, had become… violently unstable shortly after they’d lost their bending.  But he shook off his concerns.  He could take this ex-blood bender in a fight.

“Spit it out!  What are you talking about?!” he snapped.

“I’m talking about the real reason he hates bending!” Tarrlok snarled.

“A fire bender killed his family and burned off his face!” Zhen shouted.

“I don’t know how he became a… a…”  the councilman grimaced and faltered as he searched for words, “a scarred-up freak!”

Zhen recoiled in umbrage. He opened his mouth to berate the man in front of him, but Tarrlok kept talking.

“…but let me assure you,” Tarrlok gave the lieutenant a feral look, “a fire bender didn’t kill his family!”

“What are you talking about?!” Zhen snarled in fury.  “He has no reason to lie!”

But Tarrlok wasn’t cowed.  He leaned in until they were nose to nose as he growled: “Oh, he has every reason to lie!  He’s so ashamed of himself I’m sure!—Of his real history!”

The lieutenant jerked backward, uncomfortable with the proximity. “Right!  Like you know anything!”

“I know more than you, you pathetic, infatuated moron!” the councilman sneered.

The lieutenant glared at Tarrlok with barely restrained rage.  “How dare you-!?”

“How dare I?!” Tarrlok mocked, cutting him off. “He trusts you to watch me, but why don’t you find out what’ll happen if you cause me any harm!?”  He challenged with a cruel grin.

“You think he’ll defend you?!” Zhen sneered. His hands itched for his electrified kali sticks.

“I know he will!!” Tarrlok shouted, his voice cracking and breaking.  “…I know he will…”

It was Zhen’s turn to scoff.  “Why would he care about a filthy blood bender or his family!?”

“Why would he care about…” Tarrlok chuckled… “A filthy blood bender or his family?!”  The councilman doubled over and his body heaved as he laughed long and loud.

The lieutenant’s eyes narrowed sharply.  “What do you know?”

It took a moment for the politician to catch his breath and calm down.  But once he’d stifled his snickering enough he said, “We grew up together.”

Zhen rolled his eyes and shook his head in disbelief.

The councilman, calm and almost melancholy once more, turned away as he wrapped his arms around himself. “He watched me and looked after me…” he murmured as he slowly dropped back into his chair, “We used to play together in the snow…”

“That’s a load of ox horse shit!” Zhen knew that if there was any kind of bender that could make someone hate bending, it was blood bending.  For years the Red Monsoons had relied on blood bending to rule the streets. He’d watched hundreds die at the hands of vile blood benders.  He’d been at their mercy… “If there’s one kind of bender that is more reviled than any other, it’s blood benders!” the lieutenant snarled.

The politician looked up at Zhen.  His empty eyes, once again growing hard and cold.  But the lieutenant didn’t care, he wasn’t about to let a blood bender lead him by the nose.

He tapped his chest angrily as he snarled, “I remember what the Red Monsoons did to people on the streets! I was one of their favorite targets! A man like Amon would never have anything to do with-!”

The councilman gave Zhen a sympathetic smile. “It feels awful, doesn’t it?”

“What?” The lieutenant snapped.

“Being blood bent.”

Zhen’s eyes widened, he reared back in fury.  “Don’t mock me!”

“I’m not.” Tarrlok grimaced and looked down at the floor.  “I was thirteen years old when my father took my brother and I out into the snow and tried to make us blood bend each other.”

Zhen felt all the blood leave his face.

“…what?”

“He didn’t even hesitate.” Tarrlok didn’t seem to hear him.  His eyes were vacant—like he’d been pulled back in time to the moment he’d been… tortured by his brother… “He just… did what he was told. Not a second of hesitation.”

Zhen felt the air leave his lungs.  He could not move.  He could not breath.  He couldn’t hear or think.

Tarrlok’s head dropped back, his arms dropped to his side and his back arched, his body bent into a backbend as if in supplication.  The councilman’s eyes widened as if in fear and pain.  His mouth fell open and Zhen swore he could see muscles twitching just beneath the politician’s skin as every part of him tensed—resisting the posture, even as he bent himself into it.

Every hair on the lieutenant’s body was on end as he stared at the politician.  The man was reliving torture visited upon him by his own brother…

The posture was like the one that Amon forced benders into before he took their bending…

Zhen stepped back.  His hand covered his mouth.  He turned away.

That thought… that Amon might have… based his technique on the torture visited upon a… a childhood friend… How many times had he seen the technique performed?  How many times had he seen it practiced…

Of all things, why would he choose that?!

Zhen shook his head and forced himself to look at Tarrlok.  “… your father… he was…?”

Tarrlok choked and gasped. He seemed to be struggling to move his limbs freely and easily.  But slowly he began to pull and twist himself out of the imagined blood bending grip.  His body bent forward sharply. 

The councilman looked up at the lieutenant through a curtain of heavy, dark hair.  “Bending… blood bending without the full moon takes years of grueling, rigorous training.  It’s a hell I wouldn’t wish on anyone.”

Tarrlok’s father… he’d… forced his children to…?

Zhen felt sick.

“I swore that I’d never…” Tarrlok’s voice cracked as he trailed off.  He reached up and covered his eyes with his hand.

Zhen looked away.  He knew the councilman was… breaking down. He wished he didn’t have to be in the same room as a man who was coming apart at his seams.

But Tarrlok had brought it on himself.

Zhen remembered his own treatment at the hands of this vile man.  The councilman had gripped him and made him lie on the floor, prostrate before him.  It had been painful and humiliating.

He had no reason to feel sorry for this man.

The politician spoke up again.  “She was going to kill me.  I see now that I deserved it, because she was right… Amon and I are the same.” He swallowed sharply and loudly.  “I wish she’d have put me out of my misery.”

The lieutenant found his brow knitting in pity for the pathetic creature that sat before him.  “You hate yourself don’t you?”

“Wouldn’t you?” Tarrlok asked.

Of course he’d hate himself!

If he were a blood bender, he’d hate himself more than anything in the entire world!  He’d hate being a terrible and vile monster who terrorized the helpless and made people miserable!

…But if he were a blood bender, he’d be powerful… Powerful enough to put the world right if he wanted to… And no one would be able to stop him…

NO!  That wasn’t who he was!

He shook his head sharply and looked away.

He’d never considered it before… If he were a blood bender?  What would he do with that power?

It was an uncomfortable question.

He glanced at Tarrlok who sat, wrecked and ruined, in the chair across from him.

The councilman had sworn to never blood bend again.  And if what he’d said was true, he’d kept his promise right up until his confrontation with the Avatar…

Would the lieutenant have resisted using such power for so long?

Zhen wasn’t quite sure he’d have the strength for that…

His disquiet deepened. He needed to fill the room with sound again.  He didn’t want to be alone with these questions, these terrible thoughts…

“Your father made you blood bend your brother?” He asked.

Tarrlok made a soft hiccoughing sound and then said, “I refused.  I was a weakling and a coward.  I refused.”

The lieutenant frowned at the man across from him.  “You refused… and you were the weakling…?” No wonder he was such a horrible person! He’d been raised to believe that choosing not to be cruel and evil was weak!

“My brother was only three years older than me.  I’m thirty-seven.  He’s forty now.” The councilman said. He looked up at Zhen, accusation in his eyes. “Do you really think that benders are just born slinging fire and tossing boulders? That we just magically know how to control our powers?  Do you think I was always like this?  Is it impossible to imagine that there might have been a time before…?  Before our father decided that we were weapons not children…?” The councilman seemed to lose focus again, as if he were being pulled back to that time before he was a blood bender.  “He watched me, looked after me…”

The lieutenant felt sick with anger and… something akin to guilt.  “But you still went along with it!” He shouted.  “You still let him shape you!”

At the same time, he couldn’t help but wonder…

If Amon and Tarrlok had known each other as children…

What would it have been like to watch a friend turn into a monster?  A child you looked after and played with?  What would it have been like to lose that person to a man who was so cruel as to torture his own children…?

A best friend…?

Someone like a brother…?

He couldn’t imagine it.

Once again, he was left with a terrible sense of discomfort.  He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel about what he’d learned.  Nothing fit with his own understanding and experiences…

He tried to fill the silence again, “So your father was a master blood bender who tortured you?” 

Tarrlok didn’t even look at him.  “I was seven. He was my father.  He’d been kind and good.  I thought he loved me as his son before it all started.  I only wanted to make him proud of me.”  He spoke in a dispassionate monotone, as if he were numb to the information.

Were all blood benders like this? Frightened children eager to please a parent?

Zhen couldn’t believe that.

Tarrlok twitched, his eyes began to dart.  His fingers jerked and moved unsteadily.  He reached up to push his hair out of his face.  “But I could never compare…” He rocked back and forth, and his fingers began to pull at his hair.  “Not at all…” He murmured, more to himself than to Zhen. “I was the weakling.  The spare.  The worthless, unskilled…!”

The lieutenant frowned at the councilman’s behavior.  He seemed unhinged… or like he was becoming unhinged.  He tried to draw the man back into the conversation, “Your brother was that skilled?” he asked. “You didn’t need the full moon and he was better than you?” He found it hard to believe.

Tarrlok chuckled.  “He didn’t even have to move his hands.  He just needed to be able to see his opponent…”

Zhen didn’t think he could be more horrified.

“What does Amon have to do with any of this?” He demanded.

The councilman glanced at Zhen and smiled. The lieutenant realized that it was meant to be a nasty smile, but it came off as nervous and incredibly uncomfortable. “I was his first foray into protecting another person.  Practice.”

Oh spirits…

Tarrlok turned his eyes away and studied the floor to his right.  “He failed.  Fucked it up badly.”

No…

Amon wouldn’t have dared to pit himself against a group of blood benders who were strong enough to… to… And with a single look?

The councilman chuckled lightly.  “In the end he ran away.”

“…no.”  Zhen said.

“Do you know why?” Tarrlok asked.

Zhen shook his head.  “…shut up…”

Tarrlok grinned, this time he did manage to be nasty. “Because you can’t protect someone who’s able to stand up for themselves.”

Zhen looked up in confusion.  Those were the horrible words he’d been expecting...

“Oh?”  Tarrlok tilted his head to one side.  “Maybe I wasn’t clear.  You and all your little Equalists are only important to Amon as long as you’re vulnerable and helpless.  That’s how he is.” The councilman’s smile widened, “He likes people who are helpless, who are vulnerable, who can’t protect themselves.  He likes to feel like a savior and a hero, but that only works if you’re in peril!”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Zhen snarled.

The politician snickered.  “I’m talking about what he does.  He goes out and finds someone helpless and he ‘protects’ them.  He ‘saves’ them from their tormentor...” Tarrlok chuckled, “Maybe ‘protect’ is too strong a word...

“He puts himself between the victim and the tormentor.  He antagonizes the tormentor so that life becomes completely unbearable for the victim.  And he’ll.. galvanize both sides until the victim finally puts up a fight.  And then, right when you really need him, right when you desperately need his support and protection... he will leave you.”

Zhen’s eyes widened in shock.  “That’s not true!” he shouted.

... but it was happening right now, wasn’t it...?  Amon was leaving them all...

No!  He couldn’t beleive it!  He wouldn’t be led by this evil man!

The councilman shrugged and said, “I lived through hell from the age of seven.  Even though he was in a position to put an end to our suffering, he never once raised his hand.  In the did what he couldn’t do.  I put my foot down and resisted.”  Tarrlok glanced away, his expression pained, “And that was when he left... he didn’t kill him or stop him or provide any other help.  As soon as I did what he’d never...!”  He jerked, his eyes shutting tightly and his face contorted as if in pain.

The ex-blood bender began speaking again, in a calm, low, level voice.  “He never once fought back.  He was like a wall, in some ways... He took the punishment, but he never really did anything to stop what was happening.  He made a martyr of himself at my expense.  He had so much power!  But he never once tried to fight him!”  The politician looked straight into Zhen’s eyes as he said, “I had to do that.  And when he couldn’t play hero anymore, he left me to rot.”

Zhen shook his head in disbelief, “You’re a bender!” he snapped. “If you’d had some guts-!”

Tarrlok shook his head.  “He was stronger than me.  But in the end he fled like a coward while I endured.”

“You make it sound like you’re the victim!” Zhen shouted.  “How could a blood bender be a victim?  You have all the power in the world!”

“I was the one who had to fight back.  He ran.” It was like the shadows of the room were swallowing him up, body and soul.  “I took the abuse and the beatings and he, sainted and precious, played at defending me.”

Tarrlok looked up at him with baleful eyes.  “You’re blind to think that men like him are capable of any goodness.  They put themselves up as defenders, but they’re all bullies and cowards underneath it all,” the councilman sneered.

Zhen took a step back. He’d had seen men and women with hatred in their eyes—all Equalists were angry, you didn’t join the revolution if you weren’t full of righteous rage.  Some were furious at their families, who rejected them for being non-benders.  Some hated the powerful benders who oppressed them and took their work opportunities, but all Equalists were united by their fury.

Once that fury was properly shaped and directed, the powerful wrath of non-benders spiraled outward to strike at the bending establishment and inward to root out weakness…

Those were Amon’s words.

The anger in Tarrok’s eyes—no, radiating throughout his entire body was so intense he could feel it. The rage was like an aura.  It was just like in those ancient stories where men faced each other in battle and described their opponent’s killing intent.   The lieutenant would have sworn that he’d never seen anything like it…

… but it was so familiar.

Zhen stumbled for a moment, but recovered himself, “You don’t know Amon!” he snarled.  “He’s the most noble and humane person I’ve ever met!”

Tarrlok snorted.  “Is he?  A man who thinks so little of terrorizing a teenage girl?”  he asked.  “A man who would think nothing of destroying a people and their way of life?”

“What?” the lieutenant snapped.

“Don’t tell me you think for a minute that he was going to spare the Air Nation,” the politician retorted.

Zhen shook his head in disbelief.  Of course they needed to be removed, “They’re benders!”

A lantern went out.  Tarrlok’s face and form were thrown into shadow. His voice, however, cut through the darkness.  “They’re pacifists whose entire culture was nearly annihilated!” He snarled.  “And you Equalists wanted to finish the job that Ozai started.  Can you justify it?” He demanded. “Can you justify harming children?”

Zhen felt a twinge of fear.  He wasn’t afraid of the ex-blood bender, but of what the man was saying.  His voice was too strong.

“They won’t be harmed!” Zhen reasoned.  “Their bending will be removed!  It won’t make that much of a difference!”

“Then you will complete Ozai’s work.”

Zhen flinched and winced. He shook his head sharply.  “This is for the best!” He shouted. “There will be some sacrifices, but it’s for the best!”

“Do you really think so?” The councilman jeered. “Do you really think you know him?”

“Of course I do!” Zhen snapped, but he didn’t sound as strong as before.  His voice was growing weak as his head began to fill with doubt and questions… There were so many little things in Amon’s backstory that didn’t quite add up…

“You don’t know anything.”  The councilman hissed.  “You know a personality.  A character he’s playing!  I knew him before he became Amon!  I knew him when he was just a boy with a chip on his shoulder and talent to spare!”

Zhen stepped further from the table, his hands came up to cover his ears as he turned away from the politician.  “I trust him!”  He shouted.

“You want to know something…?” the ex-blood bender asked in a soft, taunting voice.

Zhen didn’t want to know any more.  He wanted the damn bastard to shut up and quit… disrupting everything.

“The night I took the Avatar prisoner, we fought.  You heard about that, right?” The councilman asked.

Zhen nodded.  He wished he hadn’t.

“She came after me.  I was trying to keep my head, in spite of what she said, but she provoked me when she accused me of being exactly like your leader.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Zhen snapped as he turned on the politician once more.  “You two have nothing in common!  The Avatar is a fool for comparing you two!”

Tarrlok chuckled softly.  “You’d think that, wouldn’t you?  I was so angry at being compared to him I attacked her.  We fought.  She nearly killed me and I gave in and blood bent her….  After all these years…  I never used it.  I swore I wouldn’t.  I swore I’d be better than both of them.  I swore that I’d never once…  But coward…. Monster that I am, I did it.”

Zhen could see the councilman’s blue eyes glinting in the darkness.  The Equalist couldn’t look away from those pale, glinting orbs.

“How do I describe my horror at discovering that her words were accurate?  We share so much your master and I.  Our lives intersect in so many ways…”

Zhen shook his head sharply.  “Name one!”  He shouted.  “Name a single way that you’re like Amon!”

“We would have torn this city apart to achieve our ends.”

“That’s not true!”  the lieutenant howled,  “You were tearing this city apart! Amon was trying to help us! Benders hurt us!  Terrorized us in our homes and on the streets!  You enabled them!”  Zhen snarled.  “We’re oppressed!  We’re making a stand!”

“But did you need a war?”

“What?  No!”  The lieutenant’s head hurt.

“You started a Revolution.  You began fighting in the streets.”

“We were striking back!” Zhen retorted.

“You could have put pressure on the council to bring on a non-bending representative, just like Amon could have reached out to be benders who are just as downtrodden and oppressed as non-benders and brought them into his revolution—making it a more effective and powerful movement.”

Zhen growled angrily.  “Why would any benders feel oppressed?!  They have all the power!”

“Triads don’t distinguish between benders and non-benders, but Amon does.  And Amon doesn’t care what happens to benders whose families are murdered by benders or non-benders.”

“Non-benders don’t murder benders!” The lieutenant shouted.

“Of course they don’t.  And your Equalists don’t overpower benders and terrorize them for fun when you’re not keeping them in line…. Your Equalists didn’t come up to the Avatar’s cell, looking for an excuse to get inside and have a bit of fun with an ex-bender girl that their leader had so recently humiliated.”

Zhen shook his head quickly; his hands came up to clutch his head.  “It’s different!”  He howled.

“Is it?”

“She deserved it!” He cried... he couldn’t believe he’d just said that…

“Are you sure?”

Zhen’s hands came down hard on the table, he gripped it, ready to assault the man in the dark, across from him.  “She needed to learn her place!”

Oh spirits, what was he saying? He didn’t really believe…?

“Just like non-benders had to learn their place?  Of course. Like looking in a mirror isn’t it? Same tactics.  Same view.  Different side of the tracks.”

The door hinges creaked.

Zhen gasped.  The lantern that had gone out flickered back to life and Tarrlok reappeared.

Both men stared at the door as it began to swing open…

Was it Amon?

Had Amon returned?

Or was it a chi-blocker?

The lieutenant snatched his head-gear from where it lay dangling off the edge of the table and pulled it on.  If it was a chi-blocker he needed to look ‘put together.’  They needed to believe their leaders were in control.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tarrlok smirk snidely at him.  The councilman seemed to know exactly what was going through his head.

A small, slightly built Equalist peered into the room cautiously.  “Uh… Mr. Esteemed Lieutenant, Sir?” she said in a soft, high voice.

It wasn’t Amon.  Zhen couldn’t hide his disappointment and anger at being interrupted by one of his subordinates.  He wanted to see Amon right now.  He needed to reassure himself that Tarrlok was lying aobut his commander.

Zhen glared at her sharply.  “What is it?” He growled.

The small Equalist stepped cautiously into the room. “Oh, good.  It’s the right room…  Ahem! Mr. Esteemed Lieutenant, Sir?  Amon would like a word with you.”

Zhen stiffened and turned sharply to, “I was ordered not to leave the councilman’s side!  Do you really want this man wandering around our base?! Exploiting our secrets!?”

The small Equalist nearly jumped out of her skin.  She stumbled backwards and immediately began bowing deeply, repeatedly, and profusely. “S-s-s-s-sorry Your Most Esteemed Excellence Right-Hand-Super-Manliness!  I-I’m just following orders!  Uh…! Amon-uh-!  Amon said that... um Mr. Councilor is to stay where he is...”

The small equalist cast a quick, nervous glance at Tarrlok.  “Umm... Mr. Councilor wouldn’t want to... to leave this room, because he, um, he knows what was good for him?” she offered.

Oh winged spirit of sky and sun give him patience, Zhen knew who it was!  Amon had sent one of the most inexperienced, flighty members of the organization to fetch him.  Yun was a sweet girl, she really was, but she lacked confidence.  And as much as he liked the girl—in a fatherly sort of way—he had been the one who’d put her on probation for delivering a certain, vital missive into the hands of a drunk Hiroshi Sato.

He pinched his brow and grimaced as he wondered what she was doing back in the base.  She was supposed to stay at home until she was contacted for review!  She was not supposed-!

They’d sent all the Equalists of Water Tribe descent home last night.  They were short-handed.  Of course she’d been called in…

He sucked in a deep breath and corrected her.  “You mean, he won’t leave this room if he knows what’s good for him, don’t you, Yun?”

He could almost hear the air woosh as the young Equalist nodded quickly. “Oh!  Also, I um…”

“Go on…” the lieutenant said through clenched teeth.

“I have a key to the room?  Amon wanted me to deliver it to you?”

He looked up and let out a heavy sigh.  She bent at a near perfect right angle with both her hands extended straight out in front of her, palms up, offering him the key like he was some kind of great lord or king…

… and she was shaking with so much nervous, frightened energy, that he thought she might collapse.

The anger and frustration drained out of him.

This movement wasn’t all about Amon, it was about people like Yun.  Small, nervous, frightened people who were so used to being abused that they’d come to expect it for even the smallest mistake.  It was about people like him, who just wanted the feeling of being trapped and helpless to end…

Whatever history Tarrlok shared with Amon, it didn’t matter.  His feelings for Amon, though important to him, meant very little in the grand scheme of things.  He needed to remind himself of that.  The Equalist Revolution was bigger than four men.

He smiled, shook his head at his own selfishness, and took the key from Yun.  She flinched when his fingers brushed her gloved hand, but aside from that she didn’t move.  Not even after he’d taken the key from her.

He frowned and sighed, “Yun,” he said.

She straightened to attention, saluting him like a good little soldier.  “Yes, Sir, Esteemed Lieutenant, Sir!”

“It’s just lieutenant, Yun.”  He studied the key and glanced at Tarrlok.

The councilman was eyeing Yun like she was the most outlandish and annoying thing he’d ever seen.

Typical bender elitist scum…

He turned his attention back to the young Equalist.  “I’m going to need some help carrying these files.  There’s quite a few of them…”

She sucked in a breath and he could see how she just… swelled at the idea of being helpful. “I’d be honored, sir!”

Zhen snorted and shook his head.  If it’d been anyone else saying that, he would’ve simply assumed they were kissing-ass. But he knew the new recruits and Yun was nothing if not completely sincere.

Yun turned, took a step toward the table and froze.

It took the lieutenant a moment to figure out what was going on.  It shouldn’t have.  Yun was staring straight at Tarrlok and he could clearly see the whites of the young Equalist’s eyes through her green goggles.

Tarrlok, meanwhile, was wearing an amused smile.  “Oh, what’s wrong?” he asked smoothly. “Are you afraid of the big bad blood bender?”

“Don’t worry.  You have nothing to fear from him now,” Zhen told Yun.  He smirked, “Amon purified him.  But…” the lieutenant gave Tarrlok a nasty, smug grin, “Ex-Councilman Tarrlok.  You’re standing between my young associate and those very important files. Move.”

Tarrlok glared at him.  “Of course.”

The councilman rose to his feet with a grace he hadn’t displayed since his capture.  As he stepped away from the table, he reached up and pushed his hair out of his face.

For Zhen, it was as though a curtain had been pulled back.  Tarrlok’s skin was darker than Amon’s, his face was longer, the nose was certainly not the same at all… but there was a terrible likeness in the form of the mouth, the shape of the eyes, the arch of the brow and forehead.  Even the color of those pale eyes… if not for the fact that Zhen knew it was Tarrlok before him, he would have sworn those eyes belonged to Amon.

How could Amon have the same eyes as this man?

Zhen’s mind spun.  He turned away, suddenly unable to bear looking at the man who shared Amon’s beautiful pale eyes.

Amon had said that he and Tarrlok could build a convincing history together.  He’d asked them to report that he’d taken his brother and the Avatar… 

His brother…

no…

A shared past…

No.

‘I know what you are…’

It couldn’t be…

‘I wasn’t my teacher’s favorite…’

NO!

There was no way this could possibly be true.  Amon’s family had been killed by a fire bender.  The fire bender had taken Amon’s face.  Amon’s whole family was dead.

But what if that wasn’t true?  What if he had a brother?  A brother who lived…?

The Avatar’s words rang in his head: ‘I know who you are, your brother told me.’

Oh, spirits, no…

“Mr. Esteemed Lieutenant, Sir?” Zhen looked up and saw Yun standing before him, holding a large stack of files in her arms.  “We shouldn’t keep, Our Most Exceptional Leader, Amon, waiting.”

[] [] []

A/N: I have hated scenes before, but I have not hated any as much as I hated this one.  It has gone through no less than 8 rewrites.  Half of those rewrites were in the past two weeks. Beta saved this scene.  Yun saved my f’n soul.

Equal Measure Navigation

2.1.6.3- Apologies 2.1.6.3.5- The Little Equalist 2.1.6.5- Shame

Part 1 Master Post

[jayu123-me]

Electric Double-layer Capacitors Market Trends and Prospects by 2027

Electric Double-layer Capacitors Market: Introduction

A capacitor is a two-terminal passive electrical component, employed to store energy electrostatically in an electric field. It is a widely used in electrical circuits for various electrical devices, especially the electric double-layer capacitor.

Electric double-layer capacitors are commonly known as gold caps, ultra capacitors, or super capacitors, is an energy storage device which have high capacitance than other capacitors or batteries. They have high power capacity, fast charging options, and longer life cycle as compared to those of batteries.

Read report Overview-

https://www.transparencymarketresearch.com/electric-doublelayer-capacitors-market.html

Electric double-layer capacitors are widely associated with batteries, as they are an ideal source of back-up and peak-power.

In an electric double-layer capacitor, the electrostatic charge is stored by splitting positive and negative charges; therefore, they chemical reaction is not used to store energy.

The energy store capacity of a typical capacitor is measured in nano or micro farads, while an electric double-layer capacitors can be rated in farads.

An electric double-layer capacitor consists of two different types of constructions; the first is the stacked form, while the other is the wound construction form.

The wound type has similar construction to that of an ordinary radial electrolytic capacitor. These capacitors are available with maximum cell voltage between 2.1V & 3V and capacities up to 3400F can be achieved with these cells.

The stacked type offers voltage of 5.5V by integrating cells in a row and is available with capacities up to 1.5F, these are mostly used in real-time clock (RTC) applications.

Is something restraining your company’s growth in the Electric Double-layer Capacitors Market? Ask for the request brochure here

Key Drivers of Electric Double-layer Capacitors Market:

The increase in government regulations concerning carbon emissions, along with growing adoption of graphene and carbon nanotube electric double-layer capacitors (EDLCs), is a major factor that is expected to drive the growth of the electric double-layer capacitors market.

Evolving green energy applications, advancements in electric double-layer capacitor technologies, improving price/performance ratios, and growing new applications across several industries are driving the electric double-layer capacitors market.

Benefits of Electric Double-layer Capacitors:

Electric double-layer capacitors have number of benefits such as fast charge and discharge cycles.

They have long operating life of over one million cycles and can be used for operating in harsh environments.

The electric double-layer capacitors can be used in a series & parallel connections, have zero maintenance and also have a wide operating temperature range.

REQUEST FOR COVID19 IMPACT ANALYSIS –

https://www.transparencymarketresearch.com/sample/sample.php?flag=covid19&rep_id=68933

Button Type Capacitors in Product Type Segment to Offer Attractive Opportunities:

The global electric double-layer capacitors market can be segregated in terms of product type, application, and region.

Based on product type, the electric double-layer capacitors market can be divided into button type, flat type, radial type, and others. The button type capacitors are used in backup of complementary metal-oxide-semiconductor-CMOS microcomputers, memory backup, metering, etc.

The flat type capacitors are employed in barcode scanners, personal locators (GPS/GSM), and wireless modems, while the radial type capacitors are used in toys, solar battery operated circuits, emergency lights, and garden lights. The others segment consists of screw type, snap-in type, and modules.

In terms of application, the electric double-layer capacitors market can be divided into consumer electronics, industrial, automobile, and others.

Asia Pacific Expected to Hold Significant Share in the Global Electric Double-Layer Capacitors Market:

Based on region, the global electric double-layer capacitors market can be split into North America, Asia Pacific, Europe, Latin America, and Middle East & Africa.

North America is expected to lead the global electric double-layer capacitors market

Upgradation of old transmission power grids increased penetration of electric vehicles, and the rising need for wireless chargers for vehicles are some of the factors that are expected to impact the electric double-layer capacitors market growth in North America.

The U.S., is the major market in North America where most people buy consumer electronics on a regular basis. Smartphones, tablets, portable speakers, and AI-assisted electronics are experiencing high growth in the region.

The electric double-layer capacitors market in Asia Pacific is anticipated to expand at a rapid pace during the forecast period due to the presence of large number of electrical and electronic companies operating in countries such as China, Japan, and India.

Europe is expected to account for large share of the global electric double-layer capacitors market.

Latin America and Middle East & Africa are likely to account for small share of the electric double-layer capacitors market.

Key Developments:

In April 2018, CAP-XX develops a 3 Volt thin prismatic capacitor. The company is expected to deploy its 3V technology first in thin prismatic form to meet the demand for small, inexpensive, energy-efficient power solutions for thin wearables, key FOBs, and other IoT devices

Key Players Operating in the Market:

Demand within electric double-layer capacitors market is highly concentrated with top producers accounting approximately 45-50% of the market. Few of the key players operating in the electric double-layer capacitors market include

MAXWELL TECHNOLOGIES, INC.

Panasonic Corporation

TOKIN Corporation

Murata Manufacturing Co., Ltd.

LS MTRON LTD.

Nippon Chemi-Con Corporation.

ELNA CO., LTD

NICHICON CORPORATION.

Rubycon Corporation

AVX Corporation

VINATech Co.,Ltd.

Cornell Dubilier

WIMA

Read our Case study at :

https://www.transparencymarketresearch.com/casestudies/chemicals-and-materials-case-study

[palletizer-palletizing-blog]

Palletizing Robots

Moved into layer choosing techniques, this recommends you'll have the option to the board the procedure and that the conveyed innovation can manage the absolute best extent of your total differ of product and bundling assortments. In ordinary palletizing machines, if less cases are placed in a layer, the crane development hinders the speed of a palletizer https://palletizing.com/. Thus, if less layers are formed in a bed, it additionally impacts the pace, for the explanation that bed must be moved and a vacant bed needs to switch the bed. As an option in contrast to this downside, high-pace ordinary palletizers are accessible.

Packs, cases, groups, plate and moved item with line charges from 5 – 60 product for each moment. We additionally incorporate our total line of stretch wrapping rigging to give full, prepared to-deliver beds. Brenton's full line of palletizing arrangements utilizes tough plans which expand the unwavering quality and worth of the customers' hardware.

People of Bastian Solutions

At the point when you need reliable, flexible, easy to-utilize, rely upon Columbia/Okura. Our condition of-the-work of art automated have set the exchange standard for a considerable length of time. Need assistance stacking items? Verbruggen can help by methods for mechanized for any stackable item type. Automated palletizers are progressing.

PalletPRO permits clients to make a workcell design, infeed and bed stations, slip sheet and bed containers. Several unit load bed arrangements might be made and imagined in 3D using PalletPRO's developed in library of exchange standard examples.

I don't generally have a talent for complex gigs and contraptions. Palletizing rates can fluctuate somewhere in the range of 8 to 30 conditions/min for a solitary mechanical relying upon stacking examples, necessities, and if the robot is picking a solitary item, lines of item, or full layer of product. With basically the most broad palletizer line, Columbia Machine is prepared to meet the palletizing needs of most enterprises together with nourishment, refreshment, dairy, paper, private consideration, substance, pharmaceutical and building items.

A couple of firms have taken up these express difficulties and have built up a framework for layer-sharp request picking that can address these cruel ecological conditions. Right now, beds are situated on the other hand on two in-taking care of chain transports.

Completely automated palletizing frameworks give enterprises greatest adaptability and could be changed to various item organizations and beds. This flawlessly coordinates strategies into robotized work processes. The machines work in a vitality sparing technique, with low commotion and satisfy their procedure with unreasonable accessibility. An example of this is the enunciated arm robot which intrigues with its adaptable adjustment to the circumstances inside the palletizing of items in industry.

Layer Depalletizing and Palletizing

The completion of arm tooling has created as of late to oblige a variety of pack example and group assortments. There are specific kinds of palletizers including the column framing which had been presented in the mid Nineteen Fifties. In push shaping applications hundreds are orchestrated on a column framing zone and afterward moved onto an uncommon space the spot layer shaping happens. This procedure rehashes until a full layer of merchandise and items are arranged to be situated on a bed.

In the earlier decade, the computerized finish of line palletizing of same group types has become affirmed innovation. The financial support of a framework is fundamentally pushed by the attainable throughput (examples every hour), the framework accessibility, the necessary ground surface house and the usage cost of the entire creation line. Particularly for prime throughput requests, for example in the refreshment business, robots set new guidelines in Inline Palletizing.

ALL PRODUCTS

Work environment wounds might be remarkably costly, depending on the idea of the harm; palletizers, by blocking the opportunities for such mishaps, add to more beneficial and along these lines extra profitable working environments. The first is that they take up a considerable measure of room, with huge amounts of feet of transport lines required to move and alter containers. The second is that this sort of programmed palletizing isn't extremely adaptable. Item changes and bundling updates would require investigating and, in certain conditions, an upgrade of the computerized framework, to ensure that items are palletized dependably.

When the layer is framed, the layer is compacted for tight pressing with the help of a layer pressure contraption. At the point when the layer is made, it is moved to a heap raise by a layer stripper. When the bed is made, forklifts remove it, and bed gadgets supplant an unfilled bed consequently. Levels of intelligence Directory supplies a serious rundown of makers and providers. Use our site to audit and supply fabricates with our easy to-utilize highlights which let you find partnerships that will configuration, specialist, and assembling on your real particulars.

See All Solutions

An automated arrangement additionally presents imaginative adaptability for set up in tight regions. Effectively Perform Secondary Functions - Video Courtesy of Kaufman Engineered Systems -Whether it's layer framing, slip sheet or bed dealing with the flexibility of mechanical autonomy takes into account the consistent execution of optional capacities. FANUC robots have been handling progressed and standard tasks for a long time. Regardless of whether you may be palletizing a full layer or individual boxes, packs, buckets or drums our techniques are fast, standard, and reliable. See arrangements from all through the entire plan to-advertise item cycle.

Picking activities can be mechanized for various applications, comparing to palletizing soda pops where entirely unexpected flavors are put in various layers for transport to totally various shops. In transport vehicle configuration, transport autos, which move with the assistance of a screen or chain-kind transport, convey the beds and are utilized at a layer framing part.

WHAT IS A PALLETIZER?

At the point when the heap is shipped, the vacant beds are again taken care of into the framework by a bed situating framework. Cross breed structures can undoubtedly deal with the completed items from quantities of creation strains and regardless take less zone than the substitute choices. They are planned so that it might be fitted with extra palletizing hardware if necessary, thus they give purchasers decision to improve significantly after set up. Quantities of palletizers have stuffed the market, beginning from ordinary transport principally based to a la mode automated palletizers. In any case, all have a few burdens related with them.

The chose bed test notwithstanding the item weight, the whole number of layers, bed/infeed retreat, and strategy separations, and gripper information are completely spared inside the unit load made. This grants you to handily switch between stock both at startup or while the framework is now working just by changing the present unit load. After the robot choice is chosen, the adaptability of the finish of arm programming presents pleasant adaptability to manage numerous sorts of compartments one after another, regardless of their structure - This contains cases, things, buckets, bottles, batteries, solid shapes of scrap metallic, and plastic holders.

[priyanka16me]

Electric Double-layer Capacitors Market to Register Substantial Expansion by 2027

Electric Double-layer Capacitors Market: Introduction

A capacitor is a two-terminal passive electrical component, employed to store energy electrostatically in an electric field. It is a widely used in electrical circuits for various electrical devices, especially the electric double-layer capacitor.

Electric double-layer capacitors are commonly known as gold caps, ultra capacitors, or super capacitors, is an energy storage device which have high capacitance than other capacitors or batteries. They have high power capacity, fast charging options, and longer life cycle as compared to those of batteries.

Electric double-layer capacitors are widely associated with batteries, as they are an ideal source of back-up and peak-power.

In an electric double-layer capacitor, the electrostatic charge is stored by splitting positive and negative charges; therefore, they chemical reaction is not used to store energy.

The energy store capacity of a typical capacitor is measured in nano or micro farads, while an electric double-layer capacitors can be rated in farads.

An electric double-layer capacitor consists of two different types of constructions; the first is the stacked form, while the other is the wound construction form.

The wound type has similar construction to that of an ordinary radial electrolytic capacitor. These capacitors are available with maximum cell voltage between 2.1V & 3V and capacities up to 3400F can be achieved with these cells.

The stacked type offers voltage of 5.5V by integrating cells in a row and is available with capacities up to 1.5F, these are mostly used in real-time clock (RTC) applications.

Is something restraining your company’s growth in the Electric Double-layer Capacitors Market? Ask for the request brochure here

Key Drivers of Electric Double-layer Capacitors Market:

The increase in government regulations concerning carbon emissions, along with growing adoption of graphene and carbon nanotube electric double-layer capacitors (EDLCs), is a major factor that is expected to drive the growth of the electric double-layer capacitors market.

Evolving green energy applications, advancements in electric double-layer capacitor technologies, improving price/performance ratios, and growing new applications across several industries are driving the electric double-layer capacitors market.

Benefits of Electric Double-layer Capacitors:

Electric double-layer capacitors have number of benefits such as fast charge and discharge cycles.

They have long operating life of over one million cycles and can be used for operating in harsh environments.

The electric double-layer capacitors can be used in a series & parallel connections, have zero maintenance and also have a wide operating temperature range.

Button Type Capacitors in Product Type Segment to Offer Attractive Opportunities:

The global electric double-layer capacitors market can be segregated in terms of product type, application, and region.

Based on product type, the electric double-layer capacitors market can be divided into button type, flat type, radial type, and others. The button type capacitors are used in backup of complementary metal-oxide-semiconductor-CMOS microcomputers, memory backup, metering, etc.

The flat type capacitors are employed in barcode scanners, personal locators (GPS/GSM), and wireless modems, while the radial type capacitors are used in toys, solar battery operated circuits, emergency lights, and garden lights. The others segment consists of screw type, snap-in type, and modules.

In terms of application, the electric double-layer capacitors market can be divided into consumer electronics, industrial, automobile, and others.

Stuck in a neck-to-neck competition with other brands? Request a custom report on competition on Global Electric Double-Layer Capacitors Market here

Asia Pacific Expected to Hold Significant Share in the Global Electric Double-Layer Capacitors Market:

Based on region, the global electric double-layer capacitors market can be split into North America, Asia Pacific, Europe, Latin America, and Middle East & Africa.

North America is expected to lead the global electric double-layer capacitors market

Upgradation of old transmission power grids increased penetration of electric vehicles, and the rising need for wireless chargers for vehicles are some of the factors that are expected to impact the electric double-layer capacitors market growth in North America.

The U.S., is the major market in North America where most people buy consumer electronics on a regular basis. Smartphones, tablets, portable speakers, and AI-assisted electronics are experiencing high growth in the region.

The electric double-layer capacitors market in Asia Pacific is anticipated to expand at a rapid pace during the forecast period due to the presence of large number of electrical and electronic companies operating in countries such as China, Japan, and India.

Europe is expected to account for large share of the global electric double-layer capacitors market.

Latin America and Middle East & Africa are likely to account for small share of the electric double-layer capacitors market.

Key Developments:

In April 2018, CAP-XX develops a 3 Volt thin prismatic capacitor. The company is expected to deploy its 3V technology first in thin prismatic form to meet the demand for small, inexpensive, energy-efficient power solutions for thin wearables, key FOBs, and other IoT devices

Key Players Operating in the Market:

Demand within electric double-layer capacitors market is highly concentrated with top producers accounting approximately 45-50% of the market. Few of the key players operating in the electric double-layer capacitors market include

MAXWELL TECHNOLOGIES, INC.

Panasonic Corporation

TOKIN Corporation

Murata Manufacturing Co., Ltd.

LS MTRON LTD.

Nippon Chemi-Con Corporation.

ELNA CO., LTD

NICHICON CORPORATION.

Rubycon Corporation

[rudratrans-blog]

Transformer Manufacturer in Gujarat - Small Transformers Which Help Prevent Big Problems

There are numerous sorts of transformers being used with AC capacity to raise or lower the voltages yet one of the all the more intriguing ones is an Isolation Transformer which is utilized in circuits to diminish clamor and seclude control stacks and give wellbeing from line stuns.

I utilize Isolation transformers all the time at the WAVL to enable keep to clamor from getting into sound gear particularly when you have hardware attached to one another that are guided into 2 unique periods of the power which can deliver an undesired circling current and victory gear.

Remembering what isolation transformer manufacturer in Gujarat can do with commotion they can help in different circumstances also. I have Mini Storage office in Richland Pa. which has 44 separate shading day/night cameras viewing over the property and remote saw over the web .There are even cameras in the passage and leave keypads which take video of who is utilizing the keypads and records there capacity unit number on the video which is useful should one of numerous business customers who store things here briefly need to know which one of their representatives got to there unit amid the day. all cameras can find in obscurity as they have Infrared producers and exceptional low lux focal point. Furthermore, we utilized uncommon Balloons which permits Cat 5 link to be utilized rather than cajole which offers extra flood and commotion assurance as the wire is wound. It additionally chopped somewhere around 3/4 the measure of room conventional cajole would have taken in the channels.

With the property being so vast we needed to get control from 2 distinct sources due to the long lengths which caused voltage drops which introduces an issue. Preferably you generally need cameras all on a similar period of intensity so you don’t get commotion and ground circles and so on which can influence cameras. In any case, that was unrealistic here 2 unique meters feed the property. So the arrangement introduce a seclusion transformer unit (right in picture) which you can find in the above fenced in area which was being tried to ensure it worked before we fastened all the wiring. furthermore, made it changeless. By utilizing the isolation transformer manufacturer in Gujarat. We had a perfect 120 volts AC we could change down to 24Volts (left in picture) without the stress of a ground circle or coursing flows between the two diverse power sources. We likewise introduced ditek CCTV flood insurance on every camera contribution to the recorders and on every recorder AC outlet in addition to introduced battery upheld up UPS units to supply clean capacity to the recorders. if there should be an occurrence of intensity disappointment We likewise ensured all the establishing was bound together to counteract step voltage also. In all the additional safety measures cost around $900.00 yet it is securing $45,000.00 in cameras and recording gear where lightning is dependably a plausibility with all metal stockpiling structures sitting on a level plain high on a slope.

So far the setup has worked and inconveniences are limited contrasted with issues past proprietor had before we included all the additional cameras and insurance as they where continually extinguishing cameras from tempest harm.

[jakehglover]

What You Need to Know About Your Fascia

By Dr. Mercola

The 2018 DW Documentary, “The Mysterious World Beneath the Skin,” delves into the workings and functions of your fascia, the fibrous connective tissue found throughout your body. Remarkably, this thin layer of tissue accounts for about 20 percent of your body mass.

As explained by Dr. Jerry Tennant in his book, “Healing Is Voltage: The Handbook,” your muscles are stacked one on top of the other in a specific order (much like batteries in a flashlight) to form a power pack. Each organ has its own battery pack, which is a stack of muscle batteries.

These muscle batteries are in turn surrounded by fascia, which acts as a semiconductor — an arranged metabolic molecule designed to move electrons at the speed of light, but only in one direction.

Together, the muscle stack and the surrounding fascia serve as the wiring system for your body, carrying the voltage from the muscle battery inside, out, through the fascia and to the appropriate organ. In addition to moving electricity, fascia also acts as a hydraulic pump, and is responsible for moving fluid around your body.

As noted by Dr. Dana Cohen, a doctor of internal medicine and author of “Quench: Beat Fatigue, Drop Weight, and Heal Your Body Through the New Science of Optimum Hydration,” a book about optimizing hydration, your fascia is actually a movement system for water in your body. To activate this system — and optimize cellular hydration — you have to engage in physical movement.

Pain Transfers Through Fascia

Fascia has long been overlooked, but its functions are now starting to be investigated at greater depth. According to the featured film, fascia may actually play a significant role in pain, especially back pain. The reason for this is because the fascia is one interconnected system, and when it loses its suppleness, pain can transfer from one region to another.

In other words, when you experience pain in an area, the actual cause and origin of that pain often stems from a completely different area. For example, Thomas Myers,1 an expert on fascia and coauthor of “Fascial Release for Structural Balance,” says he gets the best, long-term results in patients presenting with plantar fasciitis when treating the fascia in the lower leg, hamstrings or even the base of the neck.

According to Myers, the low back is a weak spot for most people, but the fact that it hurts there doesn’t mean a back problem is causing the pain. The pain may be sourced in the arches of your feet, knees, hips or shoulders, for example. Jan Wilke, Ph.D., is conducting sports medicine experiments in an effort to verify the anatomical chains proposed by Meyers and others.

His findings confirm that, for example, when moving the foot, the fascia in the lower thigh does glide back and forth, and by stretching the leg, mobility in the upper cervical spine of the neck increases. These findings suggest there is in fact a “force transmission across the fascia connections.” Wilke also suspects force is transmitted not only vertically throughout the body, but also horizontally, which is what Myers contends.

Living Fascia

The film also features Dr. Jean-Claude Guimberteau, a French hand surgeon, who singlehandedly has changed how medical professionals view fascia. While fascia has previously only been investigated using cadavers, Guimberteau wanted to understand its workings better in order to improve his own surgical techniques.

He came up with the ingenious idea to insert an electron microscope camera under the skin of a live patient. Footage is included in the film, but you can also see the water movement in action in the short video above. “It seems totally chaotic, but it isn’t,” Guimberteau says, adding the fascia is “a perfectly efficient system,” and one that makes life possible.

As noted in the film, “fascia exists everywhere in the body, in many shapes and consistencies.” Surface fascia is located directly beneath your skin, whereas deep fascia surrounds your muscles and organs, including your brain. Dr. Carla Stecco, who is also featured in the film, has made great contributions to our understanding of fascia by producing the first atlas of the human fascial system.2

This is the first time in human medical history that the entire fascial system of the human body has been systematically documented. Research by Robert Schleip, Ph.D., reveals fascia is made up of fibroblasts — cells that produce collagen and other fibers — held together by a surrounding matrix. Essentially, the fascia is primarily built out of collagen.

Physical Movement Is Essential for Healthy Fascia

Collagen is what allows your body to close a wound and is an important part of your body’s healing system. However, too much collagen can cause problems, and excessive collagen growth is a result of inactivity. One test showed that after keeping a broken arm in a sling for three weeks, the connective tissue had already begun to overgrow.

What Schleip’s research shows is that exercise is extremely important to maintain healthy fascia function — a finding that prompted Schleip himself to start doing daily jump rope exercises. Without adequate physical movement and exercise, the connective tissue structures start to overgrow, losing flexibility and suppleness. As mentioned earlier, cellular hydration is also impeded.

Overly tight fascia can even compress nerves and muscles, resulting in pain, either at the site or elsewhere in your body, via force transmission. The fascia is arranged in two layers, and when you move, those layers slide back and forth across each other. Healthy fascia has the ability to shift or slide about 75 percent of its total length.

This sliding ability, it turns out, plays an enormous role in back pain specifically. When comparing the fascia in people with and without back pain, fascia researcher Dr. Helene Langevin3 discovered that the main difference between the two is the ability of the fascia in their back to slide across each other with ease. Whereas healthy fascia can move about 75 percent of its length, in people with back pain, this movement is reduced to about 50 percent.

Like Schleip, Langevin believes excess collagen production is responsible for this reduction in the fascia layers’ ability to slide. Animal experiments demonstrate that exercise can counteract this overproduction, further confirming Schleip’s findings.

Healthy Fascia Is Important for Inflammation Control, Wound Healing and Pain Relief

Langevin also found that inflammation is decreased and wound healing is sped up through movement, such as gentle stretching. Why is that? Langevin found that when you stretch, the fibroblasts expand by up to 200 percent. The expansion of the cell causes it to transmit chemical signals ordering the muscle to relax. Langevin explains:

“What we found is that the stiffness of the connective tissue is actively regulated, minute by minute, by the fibroblasts. So, this is a dynamic, active cellular regulation of connective tissue tension. That could be important, because what we’re finding is that when you do acupuncture for example on the tissue, fibroblasts actually respond and expand and that helps the tissue relax. The same thing [occurs] with stretching.”

Another fascinating fact about fascia: It responds and contracts — completely independently of the muscles, nerves and organs it surrounds — to chemical messengers. Even more interesting, Schleip has discovered fascia responds not only to chemical messengers of inflammation but also to chemicals associated with emotional stress.

“It was a breakthrough for us to learn that the fascia also reacts to that, very, very slowly and sustainably,” Schleip says. This is more scientific proof supporting the idea that emotional stress can cause physical tension and pain. Last year, I wrote about the late Dr. John Sarno, who exclusively used mind-body techniques to treat patients with severe back pain.

He believed you unconsciously cause your own pain, and that pain is your brain’s response to unaddressed stress, anger or fear. The fact that fascia responds to your emotional state (via the chemicals produced by these states), helps explain why Sarno had such a remarkable success rate.

The culprit in question is a signaling molecule known as TGF, the release of which is triggered by stress. “If I’m tensed up for weeks, even in my sleep, it’s mainly the red muscle fibers that are tense. [But] they relax fairly quickly. It’s the white fascia tissue, the sheath around the muscle … that [gets] hard,” Schleip says.

Fascia Tensegrity

The fascial system is now thought of as a tensegrity system. Tensegrity is a combination of the words “tension” and “integrity,” and tensegrity modeling helps us understand how the fascia works as a complete system to hold your body together.

The conventional view of the skeleton as a more or less rigid structure of connected bones is extremely misleading. As explained by Myer, your skeletal bones actually float freely, completely separated from each other. What holds the bones together is the connective tissue system. Were you to magically remove all the connective tissue in your body, your bone structure would collapse in a heap on the floor.

Similarly, the conventional view of the spine is that it’s a rigid “pole” of stacked vertebrae with cushioning discs in between. The tensegrity counter model, demonstrated by Schleip, reveals a very different picture of the spine. The vertebrae do not actually rest on or press down on each other.

Rather they too are free floating, held together by the tension of the connective tissue. As long as the fascia maintains the proper amount of tension on each vertebra, your spine will remain erect and pain free — even if you have disc degeneration.

The Importance of Water

As mentioned in the beginning, fascia also plays a crucial role in the movement of water. In fact, the connective tissue is made up of about 70 percent water, and physical movement helps keep this water moving. Hyaluronic acid acts as a lubricant for your connective tissue. As explained in the film, the hyaluronic acid forms a “sponge-like network that binds large quantities of water.”

As a result, the less hyaluronic acid you have, the less mobile you are, as your fascia will be drier, less supple and less able to slide properly. Here again, movement has been shown to be a crucial component. Low water content in the fascia makes it brittle and less elastic. Experiments reveal manual fascia manipulation techniques such as Rolfing help increase water reserves and suppleness of the fascia.

The force of the pressure appears to be key. When sufficient pressure was exerted on the fascia, it would actually fill up with more water once the pressure was released than it had before the pressure was applied. In other words, Rolfing helps press the old water out of the connective tissue, encouraging it to refill with fresh reserves.

If done hard enough, several times, the connective tissue ends up moister than it was before. The reason for this appears to be that hyaluronic acid flushes in along with the water, thereby improving the tissue’s ability to hold water. Massage, if done deeply and slowly enough, will also help. However, the most effective strategy is active movement.

The Importance of Exercise Recovery

With regular exercise, the fibroblasts increase their ability to produce fresh collagen. You can actually improve the quality of your fascia in as little as three days of active movement. However, severely agglutinated fascia — connective tissue that is firmly stuck together due to excess collagen production, caused by inactivity — can take up to one year to completely regenerate.

As you exercise, small tears in the fascia will occur, just as micro tears in your muscle occur during strength training. To allow the fascia to regenerate and heal, you’ll want to recuperate for two to three days after vigorous exercise. Schleip recommends “alternating high doses of tensile stress with a two- to three-day break.”

Is Fascia Pain Sensitive?

Dr. Siegfried Mense,4 professor of anatomy at the University of Heidelberg, is studying whether fascia itself is sensitive to pain, which would necessitate it to contain some sort of nerve fibers or nerve endings. Indeed, Mense discovered back fascia contains rather dense clusters of nerve fibers.

In other words, the fascia does have pain receptors, and this too may help explain otherwise inexplicable back pain. The question is, how can you determine whether the pain originates in the fascia or in the muscle? This can be quite difficult. That said, tests reveal that the pain response of the fascia is greater than that of the muscle itself.

As noted in the film, the fascia is really a “key organ of sensory perception,” and since stress has a direct impact on this connective tissue, that means your central nervous system is also a key component. Your sympathetic nervous system connects your brain to virtually every organ in your body. When triggered, your sympathetic nervous system responds with “fight or flight.”

A hypothesis brought forth by Mense is that the sympathetic nervous system may influence fascia via sympathetic nerve fibers embedded in the connective tissue. When those fibers are irritated through stress, chemicals are released that cause blood vessels to contract, thereby causing reduced blood flow and pain. He believes this may explain why many experience worsening back pain when they’re stressed.

Take Care of Your Fascia for Optimal Health

As you can see, your fascia is a vastly underestimated component of your body. The good news is it’s fairly simple to optimize the function and health of your connective tissue. All you need to do is to move your body more. Walk more. Exercise more. Stretch. There are many reasons to get more movement into your day, and now you can add caring for your fascia to that list. Doing so may help address any number of different aches and pains, especially back pain.

from HealthyLife via Jake Glover on Inoreader http://articles.mercola.com/sites/articles/archive/2018/09/01/what-is-fascia.aspx