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[themoleculartesting]

When a Laboratory Needs to Buy Laboratory Equipment

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Many of the laboratory accidents and injuries that occur are due to improper handling or use of equipment. Fortunately, most of these can be prevented by following some simple procedures and prudent practices for using and maintaining laboratory equipment. These precautions include checking and rechecking outlet receptacles for proper grounding, making certain that wiring complies with national standards and recommendations, reviewing general safety practices, and familiarizing yourself with the operation of the equipment.

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All electrical equipment in a laboratory should be grounded. This can be done by fitting the apparatus with a standard three-conductor line cord or by using a two-pronged cheater plug that mates a three-prong grounded plug with an old-fashioned two-wire outlet. Whenever possible, equipment should be supplied with a temperature controller and a built-in safety interlock feature. It is important that laboratory personnel take precautions when utilizing heating devices such as mantles. These should be plugged into a power source only if they are equipped with a variable autotransformer to control the input voltage and not allowed to operate at higher voltages than recommended by the manufacturer. The heating element in any such device should be enclosed in a glass, ceramic, or insulated metal case to prevent the exposed bare metal from coming into contact with flammable materials.

Other equipment hazards in laboratories include floods from water-cooled machinery, fires due to open flames or combustible gasses, explosions from compressed air devices, and physical harm from rotating equipment and machines that generate high or low pressures and temperatures. Less common laboratory risks include electromagnetic fields from lasers and radio-frequency sources, ionizing radiation, and ozone depletion caused by electrolytic equipment. Injuries to the hands and fingers from gripping and holding laboratory equipment, as well as slips, trips, falls, lifting, noise extremes, and poor ergonomics account for the majority of laboratory accidents and injuries. Read this resource to get more information about this subject: https://www.britannica.com/science/laboratory-science.

[addworldindia]

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[ineffably-effable]

good omens fic recommendations

If you’re looking for coherent reviews you’ll be disappointed, but if you want a list of quality recommendations - with excerpts & some vague ramblings as to what the reader should be in the mood for - enjoy!

29 recommendations underneath the cut.

(17k) Something We Were Withholding Made Us Weak by triedunture 

Crowley and Aziraphale learn to move in tandem.

Mood: beautiful slow burn, misunderstandings, heartache that would be solved if someone taught these besotted idiots to communicate.

Paradox: Crowley has never risen from his seat and gone to stand behind someone at a counter, never put his arms around their middle and pulled them tight against him. Has never apologized with a touch, with a closeness, with the thin line of his body. So why does it occur to him that he might do that now? Might press up against Aziraphale from behind and rest his forehead on Aziraphale’s nape and ask silently to be forgiven. As if it’s the most natural thing in the world when he knows, intimately knows that it’s not.

(51k) how deep the sand by Handful_of_Silence

After the Apocalypse, and with characteristic slowness, both Crowley and Aziraphale think there might be something they need to sit down and talk about.

And then Aziraphale disappears.

Mood: tragic twist of fate, separation, hurt/comfort, guilt & devotion.

He thinks about the picnic they’d have had. He’d have pulled the top down from the Bentley and let the wind tussle his hair, the weather of a glorious August now gone warming his skin. They would have chatted, sitting carefully on a tartan blanket, and they’d have made their own plans.

They might have even found the right time to talk properly. Honestly. About everything that’s been, about the possibilities that could be now that everything’s different.

About maybe not going back to London. Going back to their Jobs.

About leaving it all behind, together.

The words Crowley didn’t say are clogging up his throat.

(14k) Made Flesh by rfsmiley / @redfacesmiley

AU in which Crowley is two entities, and Aziraphale isn’t sure how he feels about either of them.

Mood: oblivious idiots, daemon!fic-if-you-squint, pining & tamed desire.

Eleven years pass, attended by another marked change; the creature cannot bear to be out of the same room as Aziraphale. The angel, isolated and frayed as he is by the fear of the coming war, has no problems with this development – he needs the company – although sometimes he looks into the yellow eyes and feels the spear of a nameless sorrow. If it comes to it, Heaven will win, of course; the certainty, however, is bitter. He tries not to think about what will happen to Crowley, or to this small being that runs at his heels as he moves, gripped by a contagious agitation.

(8k) Ad Astra by drawlight / @drawlight

Some things can only be said in the dark.

Mood: beautiful prose, longing, ruthless inner-voices & insecurities.

Aziraphale swallows. His eyes hold Crowley’s. Crowley stands very still, wretched. Terrified. Watching Aziraphale’s very wide eyes, the open of the mouth. There is a softness in Aziraphale’s look, in the swallow of his throat. It could be? (It might not be.) He wants to scream it; he wants to say nothing at all. Let me stay in this bit of maybe. Maybe is not no, maybe means perhaps, someday. Maybe means you might feel the same. (You might not.)

(13.3k) Alegría by drawlight / @drawlight

After the End That Wasn’t, Heaven and Hell are leaving them alone. Entirely alone. (This is a story with nothing of miracles.)

Mood: beautiful prose, longing, ruthless inner-voices & insecurities + domesticity

(Yes, I know the mood is almost the same as above, but honestly this is @drawlight, what were you expecting? Read it if you want a Crowley that will absolutely wreck you & leave you heart-broken.)

Aziraphale is a touch-strong man. He touches everything (Crowley knows, he always watches). Aziraphale loves and he likes to love through his skin. His fingers on a particularly fine leather binding, dipping into the embossed author, the tooled name of the title. His hands breaking apart a loaf of Italian sourdough, fingers coming away with residual flour. Dipping his hands into sacks of grain, rubbing a fine weave of silk through. He touches Crowley too, in his usual and gentle way. The touch on the arm to still Crowley’s whiplash self, to make a point during an argument. Aziraphale who thinks nothing of oh, my dear, you’ve got an eyelash just there, let me get it for you. Crowley has a good memory. He catalogs them all, cross-examines them. Six-thousand years of maybes and what-ifs and what was thats ? But Aziraphale is just as easy with his touches on glass bottles while pulling out his favorite vintages. He touches his favorite fountain pen far more often than he reaches for Crowley. No, in context, it means nothing. It’s just Aziraphale as usual. Don’t look too closely, it doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t.

(13k) small infinities and all that by JustStandingHere / @billypotts

Crowley and Aziraphale are turned human. This is the aftermath.

Mood: slow burn, domesticity, best friends falling in love & all the beautiful awkwardness that entails.

And there it is, isn’t it? Something they’ve known for a long time, but haven’t named it. Have been too scared to name it. Something that speaks in their bones, in the space between them.

(12k) the deft, sweet gesture of your hand by deadgreeks / @mortuarybees

Crowley arrives injured at Aziraphale’s door. He takes care of him, reads him an awful lot of Mary Oliver, and knits elaborate metaphors for his insecurities (literally).

Mood: beautiful writing, mixed signals, feeling unworthy of the millenia-long object of your affections, unable to create gifts that are good enough for the people you love and being in love with a complete idiot.

Aziraphale has tended to the sick and injured during periods of plague and war many times throughout his long life, and he tries to adopt the same kind-but-impersonal detachment as he carefully washes Crowley. It is slightly harder, Crowley being the sole object of six thousand years of repressed desire, but he’s also Aziraphale’s closest friend, and a person besides, so he does him the courtesy of not ogling his bare legs or torso as he goes.

(9.3k) Slow by write_away / @theirdarkreturning

Aziraphale and Crowley find themselves somehow married. Crowley fears going too fast. Aziraphale forges ahead. Neither know how to ask questions of each other.

Mood: Miscommunication, with a hefty side order of pining and the urge to yell at your screen in the vain hopes of getting through to these two idiots.

For Crowley - that was the demon’s name, and it’s best to memorize it quickly, before he changes it yet again - knew that the angel would love him if he just asked, and Aziraphale - the angel, though there’s no rush with him, there never really is - knew that the demon would take him in with open arms if he just asked. It’s just that neither of them were good at asking things of one another.

(14.7) Lead me to the banquet hall by obstinatrix, wishwellingtons

Crowley loves taking Aziraphale out to eat almost as much as Aziraphale loves eating, but it’s always a bit of a one-sided affair. Aziraphale has never understood why. Crowley planned on keeping it that way, but best laid plans…

Mood: wonderful footnotes, pining, creating a shrine to the object of your longing and then submitting to the mortifying ordeal of them finding it.

The thing about Aziraphale is quite simply this: Crowley can never have enough of him. God, Satan, everyone knows he’s tried. Crowley has spent centuries glutting himself on the sight of him only to be empty again days later, wondering whether it’s too soon to show his face in the bookshop. Aziraphale drifts from brasserie to bar in his quest to indulge in the best of human culinary expertise; Crowley follows after, because he knows Aziraphale will be there. It isn’t enough, but it’s something, and the only thing Crowley can ever expect.

(14.2k) all i need, darling, is a life in your shape       by deadgreeks / @mortuarybees

After everything, Aziraphale and Crowley, by unspoken agreement, begin sharing their lives.

Mood: domesticity with pining, chosen family, acts of love, boyfriend sweaters & idiots in love.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes indulgently, passing out the rest of the gifts and sneaking little glances at Crowley as he struggled with the box. He’d worked so hard on it, searched all the best yarn shops in London for the perfect skeins. He even had to sit on hold for hours with the manufacturer of the yarn he chose because he needed another skein from the same dye-lot, knowing that Crowley would want only the best, and he’d notice even a minor inconsistency in the coloring.

(27k) Long Is The Way, And Hard by Kate_Lear

A story of Crowley’s thoughts about Aziraphale, from the Beginning to the present day.

And also of temptation, and want, and whether - for a Fallen Angel - redemption is possible after all.

Mood: slow burn, denial, temptation, jealousy, lust to love, character growth.

Aziraphale hasn’t shared his bed with anyone. He can’t have done, because if he has then Crowley is going to hunt down that mortal – in this world or the next – and enact something creatively and comprehensively bloody upon them. Possibly involving methods from the Spanish Inquisition, that have scabbed over in Crowley’s memory and that he shies away from picking at.

(25.7k) your weekend lover by witching

Mood: miscommunication, mutual pining, ineffable idiots who are on the same page but reading a different damn book

It was purely physical, they had agreed on that from the beginning. Aziraphale couldn’t quite remember why he had agreed to that, but he suspected it had something to do with not ruining their friendship, or some such nonsense. At any rate, that was the deal. The new Arrangement. Purely physical.

(16k) I’ve Got You To Help Me Forgive by Kate Andrews (k8andrewz)

Pt1: Crowley deals, more or less, with the Fall. Also, Crowley has feelings. The angel doesn’t help with that. Also, sunny rocks are very nice.

Pt2: In which tea is made, a story is shared, and a leap of faith is taken.

Mood: Lust, first times, innocence, ineffable sex, memory wipes, Aziraphale showing initiative and being a bit of a bastard, overwhelmed Crowley, Gabriel is a total dick. Fair warning this isn’t PWP, it has loads of plot and feelings too and fantastic characterizations.

The air in Crowley’s lungs took leave of him all at once. Memories he hadn’t given a good look at in ages resurfaced. Memories he’d quite ably buried, thank you very much and he sat up abruptly, leaning forward and propping his elbows on his knees. He set his sunglasses on the table, then pressed his face into his palms and gave it a good scrub. After a sidelong glance at Aziraphale who sat there patiently watching him, he asked, “What am I supposed to do with a question like that, hmm?”

(13.9k) The Lightness of You by Rend_Herring

God should not have built them with such discrepancy, made them need for love, and long for wholeness, then left them to their own devices.

Mood: When you want to mix up your pining & angst with a bit of humour, sex and a praise kink.

The jasmine vine actually tries brushing up against Aziraphale’s cheek and he blushes, says, “Oh, you,” all indulgent and sweet-like.  It leaves a fragrant white blossom behind his ear.

“Thank you,” Aziraphale says sincerely, and Crowley glares openly at the traitors. “That’s very kind of you.” His smile really is a beacon of otherworldly radiance. An orchid blooms on the spot, the epiphyte whore.

(7.2k) summer and his pleasures by witching

absence makes the heart grow fonder, and crowley and aziraphale’s hearts were plenty fond to begin with. a story told through phone calls while they are separated for work-related reasons.

Mood: drunk dialing and dirty talk, idiots in love

Something clicked in Aziraphale’s mind, and he held back a curse word threatening on his tongue. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, he found himself just in that sweet spot of intoxication where he was cognizant enough to recognize that he was doing something he absolutely shouldn’t do, but not quite enough to stop himself. “I would, you know,” he said, full of newfound confidence. “I’d – if you were here, I’d make it… very much worth your while.”

(3.6k) Birds of a Feather by idiopathicsmile

Aziraphale nests. Crowley relearns some crucial facts about angelic courtship rituals.

Mood: Jealousy, lashing out, withdrawal, oblivious idiots slowly learning how to use their words.

Is Crowley jealous of a musty old flat above a used book store? In the millennia he’s spent slowly twisting his own heart around Aziraphale’s little finger, it’s not the weirdest thing he’s been jealous of, to be honest.

(11k) A Touch Like Sunlight    by goodomensblog / @goodomensblog / @just-quintessentially-me

When Aziraphale is threatened by angels who seek justice for Aziraphale’s crimes against Heaven, Crowley comes up with a plan to keep him safe from harm.

Mood: PTSD from witnessing the attempted murder of your husband, it’s not paranoia if they’re really out to get you, self-sacrificing idiots & badass idiots protecting eachother.

“Right! Brunch!” Aziraphale says, bouncing up on his toes - as if they hadn’t just been discussing the murder of archangels. “Do you think they have crepes?”

(13.6k) These Things Were Here by MajorEnglishEsquire

Crowley, following times of overwhelming distress, resorted to the snake form as a means of finding comfort and solitude.

Mood: displays of affection, love shown through care-taking, using your ineffable boyfriend as a security blanket.

Nothing like it happened again for years. The pattern, however, was too recognizable to be mistaken when it did reoccur.

When commended for some catastrophe of which he was no part, Crowley became a completely disconsolate mess, but he still actually handled those occasions better than when he was, in fact, party to such disaster.

If he was blamed, but not actually at fault, Aziraphale may find him on the verge of discorporation due to alcohol poisoning, but at least he would say what was wrong. It was worse when he had an assignment he couldn’t breathe a word of. It was worse when he would smile bitterly and leave silently, haunted beyond expression.

(4.6k) let sleeping snakes lie by kythen / @kythen

The world doesn’t end. Crowley falls asleep. And Aziraphale stays by his side, waiting for him to wake up again.

Mood: acts of love, comfort, warmth, home

To some extent, he understands Crowley’s need for sleep. It had been an exhausting decade for the both of them, what with the end of the world business, and it had culminated spontaneously in them cutting off their ties with both Heaven and Hell rather dramatically, which were the only ties that either of them have ever had since the Beginning. Just as Crowley had sauntered from the ranks of Heaven to Hell, he had finally found his way out of Hell and into something that finally felt like freedom.

(6.4k) All The Dreams We Had by ImpishTubist / @impishtubist

This time will be different, Aziraphale thinks. This time, Crowley will remember.

Mood: amnesia, groundhog day - but centered on a single relationship - and with more angst

It takes a year for Crowley to fall for him again, a year until the air raid and the church and the books; a year before Aziraphale finds himself pressed up against a brick wall and exchanging desperate, burning kisses.

Crowley’s forgotten again by morning.

(70k) The Place You Need To Reach by Zetared / @zetablarian 

When Crowley is forcibly recalled to home office, Aziraphale conspires with a denounced saint and strikes a deal with the agents of Hell to get him back.

Mood: sacrifice, loss of self, trauma, love, tenderness and fantasy-novel-esque world & character building

“I have a journey to complete,” Aziraphale reminds the Adversary, primly. “May I begin?”

“In good time, Aziraphael. In good time. Tell me, do you recall the rules correctly?”

Aziraphale grits his teeth at the purposeful use of his forgotten name, but he doesn’t mention it. “Yes, of course. Using no miracles or ethereal influence of any kind, I must walk through the circles of Hell and complete an unknown task in each to earn passage to the next. I must not look behind me, where Crowley will walk. I may speak to Crowley, but he cannot speak back. I will not hear him or see him or feel even a hint of his presence. I will move forward, and, God willing, he will follow me.”

(1.9k) Kissing, Accidentally. by skybound2 / @skybound2

The one where Crowley gives in and kisses Aziraphale while he has him pinned against a wall.

Mood: hilarious footnotes, brilliant Crowley internal monologues and ineffable kissing against a wall.

No. No what actually happens is that when Crowley slams Aziraphale up against a wall in the middle of a hallway at a former-Satanic-hospital-turned-paintball-complex to express to him how very not nice he is, his hindbrain, forebrain and all other portions of his brain, decide that while denial has been a lovely place to reside for the previous six millennia, they are rather due a relocation at this point. And “Oh! Would you look at that! Here’s the oh-so-very soft mouth of an oh-so-very-beautiful angel right in front of us! And all we have to do to get there is to just…lean forward an inch. Less than an inch, in fact! How fantastic!”

(9.3k) Build Our Kingdom by Mackem 

Mood: : ineffable dates, promises kept

“Ready for lunch?” Crowley drops to his knees to start unbuckling the straps on the basket as though this is something they do all the time; as though he hasn’t just effortlessly catapulted Aziraphale back in time almost fifty years.

“You remembered,” Aziraphale breathes as wonder courses through him. He mentioned something once during an awkward moment, half a century ago, and now here kneels a demon atop a picnic blanket.

“Hmm?” Crowley barely shoots him a sidelong glance as he concentrates on opening the basket.

Aziraphale’s eyes do not move from him. “You remembered,” he repeats, no less stunned. “Crowley, you really didn’t have to.”

Crowley’s hands still. Eventually, his eyes still on the basket, he murmurs, “Well, we did The Ritz, didn’t we?”

(9k) On The Matter Of Touch by Somedrunkpirate

For two ineffable husbands, they don’t really touch each other much. Here is a story on why that might be.

Mood: touch-starved idiots in love, heart-breaking internal monologues, misunderstandings, miscommunication, protective idiots.

Crowley had decided long ago that curiosity should have been a sin, because it has been the one thing consistently tempting him in his existence. He’s done everything he can think of and more, just so see what it was all about. But this, with Aziraphale, feels more than just an experience he can add to his endless tally

(8.2k) dum memor ipse mei by NeverNooitNiet

There is something, Aziraphale thinks, that is inherently selfish— unangelic, even— about grief. But then of course, the same could be said about love.

Mood: identity angst, calling Aziraphale out on his bullshit

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous ,” Crowley snaps. “Of course I don’t— angel, do you have any idea just how much more straightforward my life would be if only I were able to hate you?”

(5.6k) bent to the very earth by Ark / @et-in-arkadia

Use me, please, Crowley had said, so Aziraphale takes him at his word.

Mood: tenderness & kisses & sex against a wall

Aziraphale kisses him back because that is what makes sense, kissing Crowley, why, the thought crosses his mind often enough—he just never had the sort of momentum that seems to fire up Crowley now. Crowley whose hands are shaking before they ball up as fists on Aziraphale’s lapels, Crowley who keeps kissing him and kissing him like otherwise he’ll drown.

(40k) Lit in the Darkness by ToEdenandBackAgain / @toedenandbackagain​

Mood: Aziraphale and Crowley sleeping together through the ages. Mutual pining.

Aziraphale, despite being nowhere hear as gangly as Crowley, is somehow still all arms and legs when he sleeps. Crowley takes an elbow to the face three times before he wedges the angel between the wall and his body with an angry growl, making sure to trap the flailing limbs tight beneath his own.

Works In progress

this gorgeous ineffable wives snippet by @mia-ugly

Mood: beautiful writing, emotional vulnerability, submitting to the mortifying ordeal of being known,

“Whatever happens tomorrow -“ And something will happen, they won’t walk away from this. They’d never be allowed. “Darling, you should know -”

the bucket list

  by darcylindbergh / @forineffablereasons  / @watsonshoneybee​

If you’re going to go native, you might as well go all the way.

Mood: saying the absolutely wrong thing at the wrong time, reaching your breaking point, miscommunication and heart break.

“You know, we are the way we are,” Aziraphale said slowly, pressing it a little, brushing his wing up against Crowley’s, “but we can also change, Crowley. We have done, over the years. We’ve changed quite a lot, since we first met.”

[virmillion]

Love is a Four Letter Word

Summary: Everyone has magic, and it’s really nothing special at all. Just another skill, sort of like a sixth sense. Roman is not particularly fond of his brand of magic, and sets off to find Thomas—the one person rumored to not have any magic at all.

Ships: platonic logince (more like acquaintances tbh)

Words: 12,758

Warnings: implied major character death, Less Than Happy backstories, some bullying, unhappy ending, let me know if there’s anything else needing tagging

Check it out on ao3!

    Roman shoulders his bag up higher, nodding a farewell to everybody in one swift motion without directly acknowledging any of them. He glances over the crumpled piece of paper one last time, reassuring himself that he knows what he’s doing. Past the end of the line is a man free of magic by the name of Thomas. Sticking the page back in his pocket, Roman triple-checks that he has more than enough money for a train ride that long. At the very least, it should be enough to get him well past the reach of anyone in this city.

    Everybody falls over themselves to bid him farewell as he makes the trek down to the train station, trying to offer absent smiles to anyone drawing near enough to see his expression. Their words all sound the same after an incredibly short while, all impersonal pleas for him to stay, to help.

    “Roman, please hang around, I need your magic to lock down my boyfriend!”

    “Roman, can you use some of that energy to bring up the positivity for after you’re gone?”

    “Roman, would you bloom this flower early so I can impress my wife?”

    “Roman, I need you to funnel me some confidence for my interview tomorrow!”

    It only becomes more obvious with every plea that chases him further from the center of town that these people only kept him around to boost their own spirits—always at the expense of his own happiness, but no one ever asks about that. Not when they can get manufactured love for free. Sure, it saps Roman’s energy to use his magic, but doing so is the only way he can feel wanted anymore, and isn’t that enough to justify exhausting his supply for these people? No, he doesn’t know their names, their faces, their histories, but at least they keep him around.

    Roman has been waiting for weeks to board a train heading in this direction, all the way to the end of the line. He passes the engineer a fistful of bills, requesting to ride the train as far as it’ll go. The engineer nods him on, seemingly unsurprised by the destination. “Passenger cars are that way. Bit of a bumpy ride near the end, though.”

    “Where would we be without some good old ominous foreshadowing?” Roman mutters to himself, slipping through the cars and tamping down the bubbles of joy trying to stir in his stomach. He’s already wearing an oversized turtleneck to hide his face, so there’s certainly no need to broadcast his reputation as the resident magicker of love to the whole train.

    None of the cars he sees are empty, but the third to last one is about as close as he suspects he’ll get. Just one passenger, who’s busy fiddling with a pile of shiny silver shards in his lap. They share a brief nod, acknowledging each other’s presence the way only two complete strangers can, after which Roman allows the neck of his shirt to slip just a little lower down his chin. The guy doesn’t seem like the type to jump up and fawn over Roman for a little extra cheer boosting his day, but it’s always better to be safe than sorry. Roman has seen many a person desperate for his help simply for the sake of an easier day, completely ignoring how much it saps his own energy. Hopefully this trip will solve all of that.

    Roman continues on to the third to last seat—three is his lucky number—and exhales as quietly as he can manage, resting his head against the glass and watching the incessant crowds waving from the station. He doesn’t recognize a single person among them.

    It’s pretty obvious that they’re searching for a sign of him through the tinted glass, hoping to siphon off just a little more love before he goes, and Roman wonders whether his resolve will hold out long enough to avoid that. He almost wants to leap through the window and into their adoring arms, to feel them welcome him back home, even if he knows it will help absolutely anyone except himself. Better not to, given what happened the last time he gave too much. Roman is terrified of ever giving too much again. He feels himself on the verge of breaking this time, and he might’ve just let himself give in, were it not for the train engine rumbling to life and knocking his head against the window.

    Roman allows himself a soft, agitated ow under his breath, wincing as he presses his palm to his skull. By the time the pain wears off, the station is shakily bouncing off into the distance. He doesn’t allow himself to watch as it disappears.

    The steady rocking of the train drags him into a fitful sleep, promising no rest behind his closed eyelids. His dreams are messy, just distant flashes of memories, of things he should’ve done, should’ve said, things he wishes he hadn’t and the letter R swirling in in dizzying circles around his head, hammering his brain like so many wasps forced through a long winter with minimal warmth and food. Amidst his short bouts of wakefulness, he tries to ignore the pounding headache on the rise, instead watching the rolling hills of lively green give way to dirt and mud, then to hundreds of thousands of barren tree stumps, all melting together in a mix of nothingness that envelopes his dreams in a cushion of hollow green love.

    When he wakes, Roman shouts the name ricocheting inside his head, then immediately claps a hand over his mouth. He holds it firmly in place with the other, then glances at a beanpole of a man hovering to his left.

    “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

    “It’s fine,” beanpole interrupts. The guy that was messing with the silver stuff when Roman first boarded. Beanpole jerks his chin toward the window, then offers a hand to Roman. “Train’s down. Everybody off.”

    Roman absently takes his hand, looking back at the window. Depot town. Not the most clever name, to be sure, but he’s got nothing against this place. Well, one thing, but it’s not a big thing. Well, it’s a pretty big thing. Well, it’s actually the only thing Roman can hold against a place, but it’s fine. He’s fine. It’s the worst possible place this train could have broken down, but it’s fine and he’s fine and everything’s fine, so stop asking.

    “Name’s Logan,” beanpole continues, leading Roman to the front of the train. “Guess you slept through the announcement, since you took so long to hear me asking you to get up. They hit some problem in the engine or something, and they’re enlisting anyone that can offer specialized magic to fix it.”

    “That’s, um, I don’t think I can help you there. My name’s Roman, by the way.”

    “Pleasure. I wasn’t asking for your help, merely informing you of the situation. At which stop were you intending to depart?”

    “I don’t know its name, but whatever the last one is.”

    Logan stops at the last step leading out of the train, turning around to squint at Roman’s face—well, as best he can, what with the turtleneck in the way. “End of the line guy, hm?”

    “Something like that.” Roman shuffles off the train behind Logan, glancing around the town. Well, the area just before the town—they pretty much broke down right outside civilization, not to mention that the designated train station is well near the opposite end of the town. Certainly not ideal. “Did they say what was wrong with the train?”

    “Just that it’s down. Something with the machinery. I’ll figure it out.”

    “Why you?”

    Logan whips his head around—sharper this time, almost indignant. “Why not me? Why anyone else but me?”

    Roman pulls his lips between his teeth and looks away, his face flushing bright red under the scrutiny of such an imposing figure. “Never mind.”

    Logan sighs and pulls off his glasses—there’s an odd green glint along the lens, something Roman hadn’t noticed before. He watches Logan hold them aloft with one hand, lifting his other as if to present them to an enraptured audience. With a simple flick of his fingers, the glasses wobble themselves into the air, hovering a few inches above Logan’s open palm.

    As the glasses levitate on their own, listing just a touch to the right, Logan whirls his hands around them, pinching and pulling as if he were trying to knot a length of string without overlapping the loops. Slowly but surely, the sleek frames stretch and pull at each other, separating into hundreds, maybe thousands of tiny pieces sparking with bright blues and fiery purples. The sparks flicker off, and Roman flinches away from one on instinct—even showy magic can scar.

    There’s a soft pop, like someone blowing a sharp puff of air into a closed pair of hands, and the glasses click back together, almost identical to when Logan began his little charade. The only thing is that now, well, they look ever so slightly different. The green of the lenses is much more prominent, almost a pastel tone that nearly blocks out Logan’s eyes when he replaces them on his face.

    “Neat party trick,” Roman says finally, uncertain how to react to Logan’s flat manner of demonstrating his magic. Most people only tend to use their magic when they need it or when they’re hassling Roman for favors, not to impress some stranger beside a broken down train.

    “It’s not a party trick,” Logan says, rolling his eyes. “I manipulate any technology I’ve taken the time to sit down and understand, which includes those that I’ve built.” He adjusts his glasses, as if it wasn’t obvious enough that that’s what he was talking about. “What I just did, crossing these wires, fusing those pins, what you so callously called a party trick? I switched around the core function. I can now effectively see any major malfunction that may not be immediately apparent to untrained eyes.”

    Roman instinctively crosses his arms over his body, not wanting to know what major malfunctions might lie under his thin cotton shirt.

    “Not like that, that’s a different setting. This is more for inorganic creations, like the train engine.” Logan gestures to his left, surprising Roman with how quickly they’d arrived at the front. “Remember what I was saying about specialized magic?”

    “Yeah?”

    “I’m the specialized magic. Thanks for the entertainment. It shouldn’t be long before the train is up and running again, though I wouldn’t hang too close by. Don’t want any techno flares flying off at the wrong moment.” Logan flashes a grin as he holds up a finger, letting a burst of sparks shower from the tip like fireworks. Roman takes the hint, quickly backing up to join the small group huddled a decent distance from the tracks. Not too many people staying on this far down the line.

    He watches as Logan kneels beside the engineer at the base of the train, the pair quietly mumbling to each other as Logan waves his slender fingers around a large sheet of metal. In a flash, it smoothly glides off and hovers in the air over Logan’s head, easily poised to slice through skin at a moment’s notice. Logan doesn’t seem to care. He only leans in further, picking at some of the pieces inside the train, none of which Roman can see through Logan’s body. Quickly bored with watching Logan’s relatively still back, Roman glances around at the other stranded passengers.

    A few talk amongst themselves, debating whether it’d be worth it to just walk the rest of the way to town and grab a drink while they wait for the specialized magickers to do their thing. Others lean forward over an invisible barrier, desperate to see what kinds of tricks the magickers can pull off with such a large and detailed engine, but clearly hesitant to get too close. There’s a lone mother standing off to the side, desperation in her eyes as she tries to maintain her composure while soothing her wailing baby. A few of the passengers that were discussing getting drinks shoot her nasty looks, but these, of course, do nothing to silence the distressed child.

    “You told yourself you wouldn’t do this anymore,” Roman mumbles under his breath, more of a soft chastising than a reminder of a promise destined to be broken the moment it was made. He focuses in on the sound of the mother’s soft voice, amplifying it in his head until her hushed tones, her reassuring coos, her indescribable love flows like a serene river through a spring of endless flowers in his mind, growing and expanding and opening the world into the hope and joy and life that supports the love flowing through it all.

    Roman takes this energy, feels it course around his heart, doing cheerful little loop-de-loops and excited hops that lift the corners of his lips, and he sighs softly, picturing his breath floating on the breeze, buffeted by the whispered gossip of the cherry blossom petals dancing across the landscape. He imagines his breath taking life, a pure wave of bright blue that almost blends in with the picturesque sky above, drifting over the heads of the grumbling passengers, teasing at the ends of the mother’s hair and lifting the tips as if there were fairies playing hide and seek on her shoulders. The mother’s voice takes on a new strength, bolstered by a laugh with no source as she bounces the baby and smiles in relief at its face, watching those rosy cheeks puff up with a big breath as the baby inhales the delightful air and releases a bright, burbling laugh, an elated giggles that echoes back into the wind, returning Roman’s joy to the air and spreading a thin layer over the world with the rebound of its happiness.

    Roman smiles to himself, feeling the muted sparks of magic intertwine with the spirits of the passengers, all of whom seem to exhale just a little bit in tandem with the baby, suddenly filled with an inexplicable and untraceable sense of rightness. Something in their lifted attitudes allows Roman to forget just how much energy that one sapped out of him.

    He glances back to the engine, where he can almost see Logan’s stiff posture relaxing as a display like an explosion of colors shoots out from his hands, whipping his hair up into a quiff for just a moment before it settles back into its usual stern state. Logan sits back on his haunches and cocks his head to the side, pointing at something as he speaks lowly with the engineer.

    Specialized magic, indeed.

    “Ahem, your, ah, your attention please, esteemed passengers!” the engineer calls, rising to all his four foot eleven glory. Roman turns to face him along with everyone else. “We have gotten the train back, ah, back in working order, it seems, but we want to, erm, we are going to run a quick diagnostic check to ensure the problem will not, eh, reappear.” Roman is pretty sure he catches Logan rolling his eyes at that, but the tint of his green lenses makes it too hard to be certain. “It will probably take us, erm, at least a couple of hours, so I suggest you all, ah, head over to Depot town and see all the attractions they have to offer and enjoy!” This is met with far fewer grumbles than might be expected, and Roman tries not to preen at the knowledge that his magic played some part in that. “I hear they have, eh, an excellent selection of pubs!”

    Roman gnaws at the inside of his cheek, watching most of the passengers turn toward the town. One of them lags behind to walk beside the mother, and they both share a hearty laugh when the baby does whatever baby thing it is that they find so funny. He looks to the engineer, who is profusely shaking Logan’s hand, while Logan looks just a little bit bewildered as he adjusts his glasses.

    Once Logan finally frees himself from the engineer’s grip, he ambles over to Roman, who busies himself looking anywhere but at those green glasses. “Y’know,” Logan says, removing the frames and scrubbing at them with the underside of his shirt, “I am pretty good at what I do. I’ve fixed many a mechanical issue, simply by applying my knowledge regarding the technology at work behind the problem. What I do not understand is how a train engine, the exact model of which I have never personally seen before, suddenly put itself back into working order with me only needing to lift three fingers in the process.” Logan cocks his head to the side and peers at Roman, a strangely personal expression without the glasses to deflect his gaze. “It usually takes at least five.”

    “Magic’s funny that way,” Roman says with an uncomfortable laugh.

    Logan lingers on Roman’s face a moment longer, just beyond what could be called reasonable, before he straightens and looks toward the town. “I suppose it is. Let me buy you a drink, and we’ll discuss what else is so funny about magic.” Roman swallows thickly and nods, watching Logan take a few steps toward the town as he begins whirling his fingers around his glasses again. It’s not until Logan gets a solid fifteen feet away that Roman realizes he’s supposed to walk with him, and he trips over himself to catch up.

    “You ever been to Depot town before?” Logan asks, holding his glasses over his head and squinting through the lens at the sun.

    “Once or twice,” Roman says. Try a hundred times.

    “Interesting.” Logan puts his glasses back on and turns to Roman, quirking his mouth to the side. “I don’t know if you could tell based on the mechanical manipulations, but I’ve just reworked the lenses to allow me to see when someone isn’t being entirely honest with me.”

    “Oh, is that—I, um—okay, I did come here a lot with my family when I was little,” Roman admits.

    “That so?” Logan chuckles softly and shakes his head. “Well, if I may be so candid in return—” He drops his voice to a whisper, forcing Roman to strain to hear it. “These aren’t truth-seeing lenses. I just know when someone’s a bad liar.”

    “I am a great liar!” Roman protests.

    “That so?” Roman is quickly getting tired of this refrain. He wonders how many more times he’ll have to hear it. “I suppose you’ll have to show me around town, then. I certainly don’t know which pub is the best.”

    “Definitely not that one.” Roman waves a hand toward the bar nearest to the front entrance of the small town, where all the other passengers are flooding in like a line of ants. “They put it up to attract tourists like us, but the good stuff is way in the back, like a little secret for the locals.”

    “Makes sense.”

    With that, they weave their way through the town, careful not to trip over outcroppings of metal gears and wooden planks lining the dirt paths. Roman points out certain buildings as they pass them, returning excited waves from people who know him well enough not to question why he’s here without his family in tow.

    “So over there’s the mill—they bring all the best raw wood in there, and the top magickers get their pick of the lot, since they’re usually sworn to funnel about ten percent of the work it brings them back into the town’s funds. Hey, Sigma, how goes it?” Roman nods to someone sitting in front of one of the only shops in town, lazily floating a steady stream of water from one pot to another. They wave back at Roman, the distraction big enough to shatter the rainbow of water over their head, the flow crashing down and soaking their hair.

    “Stop doing that!” they shout, shaking their head and sending droplets flying.

    “How else will you learn to focus?” Roman retorts with a laugh. The water charmer makes a motion like a conductor cutting off an orchestra, easily drawing all of the water into one big ball just beside their ear. A wicked grin crawls onto their face.

    “Run,” Roman says softly, nudging Logan’s shoulder. As that smile grows, he says it more insistently, picking up the pace and urging Logan to “run, technerd, run!”

    Logan complies easily, his long legs allowing him to keep up with Roman as they sprint away, dodging the drops of water that come hurtling for their heads.

    “Sigma,” Roman huffs, “has never been,” huff, “one for,” huff, “practical jokes,” huff huff huff.

    “It might help if you didn’t trick them into drenching themselves,” Logan points out, not struggling for his own breath in the slightest.

    “Did I ask you?”

    “You didn’t not ask me.”

    “Well, I’m not un-didn’t asking you now.”

    “Glad we’re on the same page.”

    Roman forces his feet to slow down as they approach a pathetic looking building near the outer limits of the town, where there’s hardly anything but homes and patches of dirt with a little more life than the other patches of dirt. He leans hard into the front door, ramming his shoulder into it a few solid times before it flies open and he goes sprawling across the floor.

    “I believe I’m about two pages ahead of you now,” Logan says, bending down to offer him a hand. He helps Roman to his feet, and Roman can’t help but wonder whether that will be a recurring theme with this guy.

    “Roman!” an angry voice yells from behind the bar. “I thought I told you to stay away!”

    “Hey-ho-de-low, Jackie,” Roman says smoothly—well, as smoothly as anyone can say something so ridiculous. “What if I said I brought a peace offering? A technerd to fix that juke of yours?”

    A sturdy little lady who just about tops out at Roman’s chin rounds the corner, crossing her arms and glaring at him. “I didn’t ask for no techie guy in my shop, either. Where’d you hide your family this time, huh? Where’s that boy y’had on your arm? Where’re the fancy stories and lies about why you didn’t bring your brother back around?”

    “Your juke has been broken for ages,” Roman says, neatly dodging the other questions. “Let me let you let him fix it.”

    “I never agreed to any such thing,” Logan sighs, but he grins at Jackie anyway. She returns the smile—an odd move, in Roman’s opinion. She never smiles at people she hasn’t met before. Although, despite her temper, Jackie always was a charmer. Maybe she just doesn’t like Roman. Of course, that’s an absurd theory, but it’s the only one he’s been able to come up with. Maybe Roman just isn’t that smart.

    He moves for his usual seat in the corner, pressed up against the window with one wobbly stool and one wicker chair. He goes for the stool. To the sound of Logan and Jackie discussing the jukebox’s latest malfunction, Roman spins the stool round and round, until it won’t turn any way but right, and rests his chin on the windowsill.

    Right out there, in the middle of that large ring of messy tire tracks dug artlessly into the mud, he allows his thoughts to wallow in their own emptiness, swirling up eddies of the forgotten carelessness of childhood hidden in the green grasses, the whole mess struggling to grow against the world of dirt trying to choke them out.

    Roman sprinted across the open field, baring his teeth to the wind and imagining someone was using the sun as a camera to capture his every movement. He let out a whoop over his shoulder and yelled, “I’m eating bugs!”

    “No you aren’t!” a voice behind him whined. “Stop eating the bugs!”

    “I’m gonna eat all the bugs!” Roman insisted. Quick as a whip, he hit the dirt and dragged his hands through it, smearing the colors over his teeth. He spun around and grinned, feeling the mud squelch under his knees. “Look at all these yummy bugs!”

    “You’re so gross,” Remy informed him, tripping over his feet as he stumbled to a stop beside Roman. “You didn’t even eat them, liar!”

    “Did so!”

    “Did not!”

    “Did so!”

    “Did not! I can still see them all up on your teeth!”

    “Nuh-uh!” Roman didn’t even flinch as he ran his tongue over his lips, wiping off the mug and flashing his not-very-pearly whites. “See? Ate ’em all! Told you so!”

    “Guh-ross!” Remy shouted, planting his hands on Roman’s shoulders. He shoved him backwards, cackling as his brother’s back made a spectacular splashing sound as it collided with the mud.

    “You’re gross,” Roman retorted, burrowing his short fingernails in the dirt. Before Remy could dodge it, Roman tossed up the chunks of earth, laughing without a care in the world as they splattered across Remy’s face. “Told you so! Told you so!”

    “Boys!” a sharp voice yelled from the building at the far side of the mud ring. Roman and Remy both froze, taking in each other’s filthy faces.

    “Bet she yells at you,” Roman muttered, getting to his feet without bothering to dust off his pants. No use trying to hide it now, anyway.

    “Bet she doesn’t,” Remy said in a stunning imitation of Roman’s voice. “Older siblings always take the blame.”

    “Not if I’m really good at crying.”

    “Not if I cry first!”

    “You wouldn’t dare.”

    Remy only grinned, putting on a burst of speed as he ran for his mother. Roman shook his head and laughed, sprinting to catch up, and if he stuck out a leg to trip his brother on the way and take the lead, well, the past is the past, what’re you gonna do about it?

    “—his peace, he doesn’t get much of it,” a familiar voice says, floating over the cotton candy skies and ripping Roman out of his sugar-sweet memories. He blinks and shakes his head, trying to ignore how much the green has faded from the grass outside.

    “Sorry, what?” He looks up at Jackie and Logan, the latter of whom is staring at him with confusion. Not nearly as bad as the former, whose eyes betray naught but pity. “I’m fine.”

    “Didn’t ask, but I guess I’m glad to hear it,” Logan says, settling himself on the wicker chair.

    “Drinks for you boys?” Jackie asks. Roman hates the way she softens the edge of her voice when she looks at him. She never used to put on that tone when he still brought Remy around. Granted, it’s kind of his fault that can’t happen anymore—by which he means it’s entirely his fault, which means it’s also his fault that she’s taking that tone, but that doesn’t mean he has to be happy about it, does it?

    Roman’s lips feel chapped. “Just a couple waters would be—”

    “Your hardest ciders, please,” Logan interrupts. He waves off Roman’s protests, continuing, “I’m buying, remember? No worries.”

    Roman nods, forcing his eyes not to stray toward the window. There’s a reason he hasn’t been back here in years. “Thanks.”

    “Now, do you think you might want to tell me what your deal is with this place?”

    “Not really.” Roman briefly considers pulling on some of the upbeat music pouring from the jukebox, wrapping it around Logan’s head and forcing some semblance of tranquility into his mind, but no, bad idea. It was a mistake to cheer up that baby earlier, a taste of what he knows he can’t have. He swore off of messing with emotions a long time ago, back when there was nothing he could do to keep himself in check. No more.

    “Think this might help loosen your nerves a little,” Logan says, pushing a mug of cider across the table. Roman hadn’t even noticed Jackie setting it down. He takes a tentative sip, all too aware of the way the other patrons along the bar are very pointedly not looking at him. Having a reputation to precede you isn’t always a good thing.

    “Fine, I’ll go first,” Logan says. He takes a long swig from his own drink before plunking it down on the table, ignoring how some of the foam splashes out onto the wood. Roman traces his eyes along the grain of the surface, remembering when his dad let him sit in on the magicking process of converting a useless tree stump into functional furniture. That always was his signature move, wasn’t it? Magicking life into things that were long dead. Well, most things. Even his dad wasn’t one to magic life into things that never had any business being alive in the first place.

    “The town where I live—well, used to live—was incredibly strict about when and how we could use magic.” Logan stares into his mug, and Roman has to wonder whether he hears the words leaving his mouth. “They didn’t like that I could disassemble things at will and put them back together according to my tastes, thought I might get carried away and start taking apart people.”

    “That doesn’t—”

    “Make sense? Sure it does. Remember how I said I can manipulate any technology I take the time to sit down and understand? If you think about it, people are just a different kind of technology, and I was studying to be a surgeon, and, well, one suspicion led to another, and that obviously made some people uncomfortable, so I left. And I left again. And I left again, and again, and every single town I went to was exactly like the last, all nice and welcoming until it came out that I could do more than just basic reparations on junky radios.” Logan furrows his brows, glaring harder at the ripples in his mug. “Well, huh. Didn’t mean to say that last part.”

    “What do you mean?”

    “I wasn’t kidding when I said I can manipulate any technology I understand.”

    “Right, that’s how you—”

    “Fixed the train and did my studies, yes, but more than that. I can do that to almost anything, even intangible things, if given the right parameters.” Logan clenches his fist, and Roman almost thinks he sees the frames on his face flicker like a flame. “I don’t like talking about it, but you’ve obviously got some stuff blocking your system, and since you clearly helped me out with the train—no matter how much you try to deny it—I’d be willing to return the favor, but only if you’ll consent to it.”

    Roman tries to laugh off the notion that he had anything to do with the train, but Logan isn’t buying it. “Don’t kid yourself, obviously that train didn’t just fix the engine on its own. We’ve been over this. You don’t have to tell me what your magic is or anything like that, I get it if you’re one of those ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ types, but have you ever turned on a garden hose to full blast and stepped on the line about halfway down?”

    “I—er, yeah, why?”

    “That’s you. You’ve got some personal nonsense blocking the main flow in your system, and if you don’t release it soon, it’ll explode on its own, and it’ll do a lot more damage than if you let it leak out slowly right now.” Logan leans in with an earnest look on his face, much more sincere than anything Roman had come to expect from him so far. “I’m trying to help you here, Roman. You need to release it now, or you will regret it later.”

    Roman takes a long pull from his mug, wishing he was talking to the mother and baby from the train rather than this oddly perceptive stranger. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

    Logan blows out a large breath, puffing up his cheeks and looking past Roman at the ring of mud outside. “I can take apart your psychology, physically and metaphorically speaking. You’re holding something in, and you need to let it out.”

    “I don’t need to do anything of the sort,” Roman snaps, watching the liquid slosh around in his mug. “Nor do I appreciate your trying to say as much.”

    “I merely wanted to make the offer,” Logan relents, raising his hands in surrender. “You are free to refuse my services, if it so please you, in which case I will make no further advances.”

    “Somehow, I don’t believe you,” Roman mutters, looking up as the main doors swing open. Great. Just who he wanted to see.

    “Heard the old love magicker rolled into town!” a gruff voice jeers. Sigma peers out from behind a man who has to be almost seven feet tall and two hundred stone. They mouth an apology to Roman, who just stares blankly back.

    “Just get lost, Trev, would you?” he sighs, pointedly not making eye contact as the pair crosses the room in a few long strides to leer down at him.

    “Aw, that don’t sound like much fun, does it, Sigma?” Sigma stays silent, only looking closely at Roman’s mug. He glances down to see the ripples taking the vague shapes of letters—probably some half-hearted apology—so he lifts the cup and turns it over, letting the contents splatter onto the floor.

    “Hey!” Jackie yells, but she doesn’t sound too upset—at least, not upset enough to do something about it. She merely hangs back and watches the scene unfold. After all, no one’s ever helped before, so why should she lift a finger now?

    “Hear you skipped town to keep your magicky love a secret,” Trevor continues, slamming his hands down on the table. “Little boy got too popular with his little love spells, came crying home to Mom and Dad—or, wait, you can’t do that, can you? Don’t got no one to cry to anymore, do you?”

    “Shut up, Trev,” Roman whispers, hoping the agitation in his voice will mask the way his words wobble like dictionaries balanced on cooked noodles.

    “Wittle baby gonna cwy to the pawents he don’t have!” Trevor whines in a shrill voice. Roman rests his hand on his cheek, all too aware of Logan’s stiff silence across from him. What good is having a silent observer around if they won’t do anything?

    “That’s not your information to share,” Roman mutters, wishing Sigma would defend him and knowing full well they won’t.

    “Well, somebody’s gotta tell our newcomer here about your deal, don’t they? Guess it falls to me, since you don’t wanna go clarifying it yourself. Forgive me if I decide to embellish some of the details, you know how I am with the dramatics.”

    “Shut up,” Roman says again, wishing his voice were stronger than it is.

    “Roman,” Logan says. Yes, very helpful addition, thank you for your groundbreaking contributions to this conversation. “Roman,” he repeats, more insistent this time. Roman glances across the table to see Logan removing his glasses, waving his hands in that familiar way again.

    “Oh, the glasses are off now! Wittle Roman got a wittle techno dork to help him?” Trevor cackles, folding his impossibly oversized arms and giving Logan a once over. Seriously, his biceps are like sausages on steroids. “Just stay out of this, kid. It’s for your own good. Nothing worthwhile ever comes out of hanging around this guy, y’got that?”

    “I don’t know that I’d say nothing,” Logan replies coolly, swirling his fingers faster now. Roman watches, not sure whether to be horrified or amazed as the frames split apart into tiny spears, their tips sharp enough to pierce metal. The flurry of miniature blades organizes itself into a sheet of steel, poised directly in front of Trevor’s face. Logan slows down his fingers, keeping the pieces in a careful rotation mere inches from Trevor’s eyes.

    “Woah, okay, let’s just take it easy here,” Trevor says nervously and, as Roman is happy to note, with some degree of fear in his voice.

    “I don’t know what you mean,” Logan says with a sickeningly sweet smile. “I’m simply demonstrating my magic for my friend here, while maintaining a casual discussion with a fellow patron of this fine establishment. Trev, was it?”

    “I, uh, I didn’t—”

    “Neither did I, but here we are.” Logan jerks his head to the side, hard enough that Roman is genuinely concerned he might snap his neck, and the needles rearrange into the silhouette of an arrow that rises to Trevor’s forehead. Something in Roman’s gut twists at the achingly familiar sight. “Anything else you’d like to share with the group, or should you like to be excused?”

    Trevor makes a sound similar to that of a kicked puppy before bolting for the door, leaving Sigma shaking beside the table. One pointed glance from Logan, and they’re gone.

    “Wh—you didn’t—I mean, I would’ve—you could’ve—” Roman splutters, watching Logan calmly reassemble the shards into normal frames on his face.

    “I did, you wouldn’t have, and neither would I,” Logan says. “Now, you are naturally under no obligation to explain what all that was about, but I would recommend filling me in, if it so pleases you. I do think I’ve earned it by now.”

    “Can’t argue with that,” Roman admits. “No matter how much I want to. So there’s this guy—”

    “Isn’t there always?”

    Roman pouts. “There’s rumors of this guy, Thomas, who doesn’t have any magic.”

    Logan seems taken aback by this, and Roman finds a considerable amount of satisfaction in having silenced him. “People have had magic for thousands of years, even in just trace amounts. Surely he’s got some semblance of it.”

    “Doesn’t sound like it.” Roman shrugs, trying to decide how to proceed without bringing up the reason he even started looking for Thomas. “Anyway, he lives out near the end of the lines, of any train there is. I’ve never seen a station that reaches farther than this train’s last stop, and I want to find him.”

    “Why?”

    “I want to know what it’s like to be free of the magic.” Roman clenches his fist against his thigh, feeling the mud rings outside burning a hole in his back. “I want to know if he can pass it on.”

    “You want to take his inability to do magic? Sounds kind of antithetical, no?”

    “Well, yeah, but I just—I need to know if it’s true. I need to know if there’s an escape.”

    “An escape from what?”

    “From magic, from magickers, from all of it, I don’t know. I don’t want to deal with it anymore, with any of it. I just want to be done.”

    “What kind of magic could you possibly have been stuck with that’s bad enough to hate it so much?”

    “Hate? I don’t think it’s physically possible to hate my magic, actually.”

    Logan twists his mouth to the side and considers Roman for a long moment. “Did it ever occur to you that this Thomas—whether or not he actually does exist—lives so far out of reach because he doesn’t want to be found?”

    “It has crossed my mind,” Roman admits. “I just want to be done with my magic. I don’t want to mess up again.”

    There’s another commotion from near the door—friendly faces, this time, but they sort of remind Roman of starving raccoons. They peer around the room before their eyes come to rest on Roman’s face, and from the way they almost seem to salivate at the sight of him, he knows exactly what they want. He wants no part of it.

    “Roman, won’t you please fix my relationship—”

    “Roman, my grandmother is sick, can you pull some sunshine—”

    “Roman, I love your magic, is that enough to fuel me with—”

    “Roman!”

    “Roman!”

    “Roman, I love the idea of you—”

    “Roman!”

    “Roman!”

    “Roman, I haven’t seen your parents in a while, is it true that you—”

    “Roman, where’s Remy these days, did you scare him off? I thought it was just a rumor that your love—”

    “Roman!”

    “Roman!”

    “Roman!”

    “Roman, what happens when you run out of—”

    “Roman, can I have some of—”

    “Roman, I love your—”

    “Roman!”

    Roman feels sick. He hides his head in his hands, propping his elbows on his knees and wishing his stomach would stop turning as their words bounce around his skull, Roman Roman Roman Remy Roman Remy Remy Roman Remy Roman messed everything up and everyone knows it and Remy knows it and it’s too late for Remy so it’s too late for you, Roman, what ever will you do with all the love you can’t have when no one will give you more?

    “Right, that’s enough of that,” Logan says suddenly, swiping Roman’s wrists out from under him. He jolts up, feeling a sharp pain in his shoulder as Logan yanks him to his feet. “Let’s go.”

    Logan ushers Roman out the door, leaving some coins and bills on the counter for Jackie and ignoring the shocked looks from the other patrons of the bar, all of whom quickly trade their surprise for awe as they realize this really is that Roman, right there in front of them.

    “Logan, I—”

    “Don’t need to tell me anything that you don’t want to. Keep moving.”

    Roman bites his lip, numbly leading the way back to the station, where the train is slowly pulling up to the appropriate departure area. All in working order, then. No more engine problems.

    He moves to step on board, only hesitating when he no longer hears Logan’s feet behind him. “Aren’t you coming?”

    “Nah,” Logan says, looking back at the station. “Jackie was telling me about a bunch of things that need reparations around here, and it’s a neat little town. Think I might hang around a while, try to fix it up for them. Maybe get to work on repairing some of these people’s attitudes, too.

    “I—” Roman falters, uncertain what he could possibly say to Logan after all that just went down. “It’s love, I think.” Logan says nothing, doesn’t even nod for Roman to go on, but he does anyway. “I take different types of love and put them into different places and forms as it’s needed, and I did it wrong this one time, just one time, just one mistake, a big one, and, well—” Roman glances at the engineer, who impatiently waves for him to hurry up and get on board already. “I burned the only bridges that I had, and it was my fault, and I can’t take it back. That’s what all that was about, because Trevor and Sigma and Jackie and, well, everyone—they all got caught up in the fallout. Trevor’s the one holding the biggest grudge, I think, since he was such good friends with—um, well, y’know, with one of those bridges. I—”

    “That will more than suffice,” Logan interrupts, gesturing for Roman to board the train. “You needn’t bare your soul to the first stranger that shows you any semblance of decency, you know.” With that, the door slips shut, barring Logan from having to see Roman’s confused expression.

    Roman wanders down to the car he arrived on, collapsing on the third seat and wondering where all the sudden candor came from. Didn’t Trevor’s magic have something to do with compelling honesty? Although, Roman could’ve sworn Trevor condemned magickers after what happened last time things got out of control. Maybe he just had a special passion for condemning Roman, and that one mistake was the nail in the coffin that Roman built for himself.

    He glances down at the cushion of the seat, shifting uncomfortably against an odd lump as he belatedly realizes that this was where Logan was sitting when he first boarded the train. He fumbles around with a blind hand beneath him, feeling for the source of the discomfort as the train sputters to life, sending him lurching forward. At the same moment as his head slams into the next seat, something dislodges from the cushion beneath him. His hands fumble through the air to catch it, carefully clasping around the figure and hugging it to his chest. Once his balance adjusts to the steady rocking of the train, he opens his hands and peers into them, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

    A little 3D heart, vaguely pixelated with all the different pieces of metal and plastic lacing together to create its surface. Roman squints at the thing, turning it under the weak light of the train’s overheads, but there’s no note, no pull tab, no secret compartment, no nothing. Just a heart, and everything Roman is left to interpret from finding it. Did Logan know?

    Maybe Roman’s reputation precedes him more than he realized.

----------

    “End of the line,” a voice announces over the train speakers. Roman slowly rouses, blinking as his eyes come into focus on the little heart still clutched in his hands. He stuffs it in his pocket, careful not to tear the fabric on the sharper edges, and moves for the exit door. On his way, he tosses a flippant wave toward the ceiling, just in case there’s security cameras watching him go or something. A little politeness can go a long way.

    He stumbles out into a cool, dark night, populated only by the densest of shadows. The sole clue that the train station is even designed to be used beyond as a set piece in a creepy picture is the dilapidated set of tracks that end just past the edge of the building, and even those on their own are a pretty flimsy sign. Once the train finishes looping around the track to reposition itself for the return to the inner cities, Roman plops himself down in the middle of the rails and lies on his back to stare at the sky.

    As if the travel time weren’t a big enough hint that he’s farther from home than ever before, the stars above look completely different, almost unrecognizable compared to those rare nights in Depot town, much less back home.

    Home. Roman turns the word over and over in his head, his thoughts dancing around that saying. How did it go again? Home is where the heart is?

    Roman gives a hollow laugh in cheers to that, feeling the outline of the metal heart in his pocket. Hearts, as in love, which is something he never earned enough to make a home with. Foolish of him to try, really. A breathing mannequin in princely makeup, designed to give love, to spread hope and joy, but never to dare try receiving it. He’s not that kind of magicker, something of which he’s all too aware. Everybody seems to know that better than him.

    He runs his hands over the dirt beneath him, feeling how solidly it molds around the cold metal tracks, and wonders whether Remy would appreciate the texture. Always did have a thing for mud and dirt, he did. Mom hated it to no end, which just made it that much funnier that Remy couldn’t go ten minutes without another smudge of brown across his cheek.

    Roman allows himself to smile at that, trying to ignore the stirring in his chest at the memory of Remy’s toothy grin, how excited he was to show off the latest bruise or scratch to Roman, how his face would light up when Roman joined in on the fun.

    All of it gone in an instant, because Roman was too selfish to acknowledge the part of it that Remy actually cared about. The part that everyone cares about, much more than they ever cared about the person behind it. Not that anyone asked. Not that anyone ever asks.

    He rolls onto his side and curls up in a ball and waits for the night to pass.

    “This you?” a voice demands. Roman blinks blearily, wondering how long he’d been asleep. Not very, if the stars shining proud overhead are any indication. Unless it’s the opposite, and he’s been asleep for days. It’s anybody’s guess, really. “Hey, wake up! This you?”

    He reaches up toward the sound of someone shaking a paper in his face, rubbing at his eyes and trying to make out the contents of the page amidst the darkness. A wanted sign, with strikingly accurate details about his magic, his past, and a picture of his face that’s unnervingly spot on, but—

    “Why did they make my forehead so big?” Roman whines, dropping the page and glancing around for whoever handed it to him. A hand snatches the paper back, and a pair of eyes appears inches away from his own.

    “Look, I’m not exactly an artist magicker, but I did my best,” that same voice mutters from beneath the eyes. “Let’s just head over to the station, okay? You squinting like a bat in sunshine looks really stupid.”

    “Your face looks really stupid,” Roman mutters, walking toward the station anyway. He’s been in weirder situations. Mostly because people get too much enjoyment from toeing the line with pestering him about his magic, but still.

    “You don’t know how my face looks, but I can assure you it’s worlds better than yours.”

    “I look amazing!” Roman’s protest echoes on the hollow breeze of the night, but the voice doesn’t return a snide remark this time. He continues on, seemingly alone, to the lamely flickering light at the station, half expecting someone to jump out and shout at him.

    Beneath the sole light bulb, Roman waits for the owner of the voice to reappear and join him on the bench. No one shows up, so he starts talking to the stars instead. “How did you get that information about my magic, and about my family?”

    “I think it’s pretty generous of you to call them your family,” the voice says from somewhere over his left shoulder. Roman turns to trace it, but the sound shifts to the shadows beneath his shoes. “You refusing to share information doesn’t mean no one else is allowed to know it. Especially if they know which shadows to shine a light on.”

    “Doesn’t give you the right to go spreading it around with a crappy wanted poster.”

    “Who said I made more than just the one copy?” The paper reappears in the shadows just past the reach of the station light, and accompanied by the sound of fingers snapping, it disintegrates. “I know what should and shouldn’t be shared. Give me some credit.”

    “How am I supposed to do that if I can’t even see you?”

    “Right, because seeing is believing. I always seem to forget that. Almost like it isn’t true.” Another snap, and those eyes materialize where the paper shattered. They stare at him like a feral cat, poised to attack. “Now have I earned your credit? Does your seeing me count as believing?”

    “Pfft. Hardly.”

    “How about now?” Another snap, and Roman finds himself on the edge of Depot town, watching everyone shutter their windows for the night, watching Jackie kick out the last few lingering drunks, watching Logan in deep conversation with Trevor as Sigma keeps a ball of water hovering over them.

    “How did you do that?” Roman demands, whirling around with his fists raised.

    “Right, because it’s so easy to fight a voice.” There’s an obvious tint of mockery this time, and Roman starts punching at the air. He feels ridiculous, but he doesn’t have it in him to care. “Hey now, no need to be so rude.” Another snap.

Back at the end of the line.

“How are you doing that?”

“You tell me. I’m just bending the shadows. You’re the one connected to the locations and the times.”

“I—what?”

Another snap. Back to Depot town, but it’s different than before. It’s daytime, for one thing, but artificially so. The moon still hangs among the stars, but they wear torn veils of sunshine and clouds, the rips in the fabric shining a spotlight on the mud ring, Roman follows the lines of pure white to the center and walks closer, not entirely certain why.

“No fair!” Remy’s voice echoes across the field. The boy stumbles over his feet, rushing to catch up to another silhouette while trying to hold up the cardboard box around his waist. The crude scribbles along the side try to make it look like a car, but they aren’t the most effective of artistic statements.

“Take me back,” Roman says coldly, desperately trying to tear his eyes away from the scene. But he can’t.

“No, I really think we should watch this play out,” the voice replies.

“I’m gonna beat you!” Roman’s voice shouts, but it’s not this Roman, not now, not quite. His lips move in time with the words, but nothing more than a strangled squeak escapes his throat. Other Roman, the littler Roman, is taunting Remy. What Roman wouldn’t give to hold them both back in the safety of this moment, for just a few seconds, to yank them out and hide them at the end of the line until the awful moment has passed. But he can’t.

As it is, he can only watch as the boys chase each other around the mud ring, bashing into each other with their cardboard boxes and making vroom vroom noises as they go.

“Sneak attack!” little Roman yells in time with Roman mouthing the same words. Little Roman drops his car and produces a long stick from within, grinning triumphantly. The fury of the moon masquerading as a sun burns down on it, and Roman can almost see smoke curling out of the tip, dark and grey and angry.

“Take me back,” Roman pleads, more desperate this time. He can feel the tremors of his voice all the way down to his feet, shaking the ground and sending his knees wobbling.

“Just another minute,” the voice says, completely unfazed. “Don’t forget, we’re only here because you brought it up. I’d happily return to the station if you would let yourself abandon this whole charade.” Roman feels something inside himself shatter as he watches the leaves spiral upward around the boys.

“That’s cheating!” Remy complains, watching little Roman fling his arms to the side. Roman can almost taste the negative pulls of love rising in his own body, and he hates it so, so much, the way the heat of the sun burns in his throat as his smaller self absorbs it, combining it with the dewy sweetness of the grass, the richness of the life in the mud, before it filters over his fingers, twice as bad now that Roman feels it both in his own hands and in his smaller self’s hands. He can feel it eating away at his skin as little Roman sends the emotions blasting into Remy’s chest, knocking the stick sword aside as if it were even less than the mere twig it already is.

“Please take me back.”

“Almost there.”

Roman can hardly stand to watch, yet he can’t force himself to look away, as the wind whips harder, faster, tearing the beautiful pink petals dancing in the air to shreds as they zero in on Remy. Roman falls to his knees, pleading with his younger self not to do it, but it’s far too late, and there’s nothing he can do about it.

“Say you love me!” little Roman demands, his voice forcing Roman’s jaw to move in time with the words. It might almost be a sweet sentiment, were it not for the millions of shreds of leaves hovering over his head like an arrow, poised directly above Remy’s heart, the moon in the sky using the stars as the bow waiting to release it.

“I—I—” Remy splutters, shaking his head. “This isn’t funny anymore, Roman, I don’t like this game anymore.”

“Say you love me!” little Roman insists, and the words are like a stab to Roman’s heart as he hears how awful, how hopelessly desperate and venomous they sound. They taste like poison as they spill from his own lips.

“Roman, please, I don’t—”

“Just say it before I go completely empty!” little Roman howls. With every quiver of his voice, the leaves over his head split again and again, more and more pieces of the love little Roman is desperate to give, more and more pieces of the love Roman has long since learned he cannot receive. Not unless someone gives it to him freely. No one ever has. Roman learned that the hard way, and here he is taking the same lesson again. He can’t look away.

Remy is frozen, a wild panic in his eyes as he searches for an escape from the sharpening arrow. A wilder look falls over little Roman’s face as he grows desperate, the lines etched in his skin wearing deeper, tearing claw marks over the surface that spawn into scars on Roman’s face. “Please, Remy, I need you to say it!”

“Roman, I don’t—”

“Roman!” an achingly familiar voice shouts from the door of the house nearby. Both Romans whip their heads around to see their mother racing barefoot through the mud, her shoes abandoned at the door. In a flash, she’s at Remy’s side, knocking little Roman out of the way and gathering the smaller boy up in her arms. She shoots little Roman a look of pure disgust, and it’s enough to curdle two stomachs at once, across the span of several years. “What were you thinking?”

“I—I don’t know, I just—” Little Roman’s lower lip wobbles dangerously, and Roman feels his own resolve shaking. His mind does everything it can to ignore the way the arrow overhead is spinning now, slowly breaking up into several smaller daggers. They shake and sink, trying to collapse, but they can’t. “I just wanted him to say he—”

“What, that he cares about you enough to let you force him to give you the magic back?” Though she’s not talking directly to him, not this him, not now him, Roman feels his heart shattering at the hatred in his mother’s voice. “Did it never occur to you that we don’t say it because it hurts too much? Just because you can give that love freely, it doesn’t mean we can, and it certainly doesn’t mean we’re obligated to.”

Roman lifts a hand to warn his mother, watching aghast as the leaves pick themselves back up, a sharper arrow than either of the ones before, aimed squarely at her heart, all the love in the world that little Roman could possibly muster, now a weapon Roman wishes he could turn away. She doesn’t hear him.

The arrow splits in two, one for mother, one for brother, and for a split second, Roman makes eye contact with Remy. The desperation in his face is enough to turn Roman’s heart to stone.

The arrows fall.

Roman’s world shatters.

A snap. The end of the line. “Well, that sure was an exciting little encore, wasn’t it?”

“You son of a—” Roman hisses, building up all the power of the moon back to its natural state, the knowledge of how many lovers use that little sphere as a landmark for their affection, a perspective around which to dance, amidst all the small creatures of the night and the life of the grass tipped in dew and the hum of creation buzzing down the train tracks, whipping it into a storm and bringing it down in tandem with his hands to smash the source of the voice into the ground, flatten and pound and hammer it until it has no chance of escaping, and when it’s all said and done, Roman pants heavily, bent over his knees and letting the energy of the twisted thing he calls love drain out of him.

“You certainly know how to put on a show, I’ll give you that,” the voice says from over his shoulder. Roman feels his body pulling in the energy again of its own accord, but the voice continues on unabated. “Have you considered that I’m just a figment of your imagination, a cursed fragment of your own mind? A shadow among shadows to remind you of all you’ve thrown away?”

“A shadow among shadows,” Roman repeats. He laughs, an empty sound that rings as dull as a cracked bell. In an instant, he pulls in all he can from every painstaking detail of each brick propping up the station building, funneling it into the sky and willing it to tear a hole directly through the secondhand sunshine dripping from the moon. “Any guess where I got the idea for that exciting little encore?” There’s a flash of brilliant light and a bang of sound, and a silhouette appears for a split second in Roman’s peripheral vision.

His whips around and seizes it, wrapping his hands around its throat and squeezing, squeezing, hating the image of the arrow that glows behind his eyelids like stolen sunshine whenever he blinks.

The silhouette still has those achingly empty eyes, which are hazily focused at best—they look over Roman’s shoulder, watching something take shape behind him. Roman glances back, stunned into silence when he sees that oh-so-familiar shape of the arrow of leaves. He swallows around a lump in his throat and slackens his hands, watching the leaves collapse to the ground as harmless debris. With every inch his hands relax, the leaves scatter weaker and weaker into the breeze, normal pieces of nature and not awful tools for something that only a heretic would call love.

The silhouette rocks to its knees and coughs, hacking up every ounce of air as it rubs gentle circles into its neck, and Roman scrabbles to get away from it. Even in the aftermath of that flash, he can still make out those eyes, still almost see the reflection of Remy hiding behind them.

“Like I said, putting on a show,” the voice says, sounding all kinds of broken and tattered. “What was it you called your magic again? Love? That’s a laugh, really, I can’t believe you’d call that love.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, but I do, don’t I? We both saw that little scene of yours. I’m not the one that made that happen. It’s your own connection to the world through the twisted thing you call ‘magic’ that brought you there. You’re the one who was so desperate for love, he would throw away his family’s lives for the chance to get it.”

“Shut up. You don’t know anything.”

“And yet here we are, me knowing all this information about you, and you knowing nothing about me. Do you think I didn’t notice all those times you pleaded for someone to love you before? Do you think those dark nights in empty alleys on your own were really so private? You’ve just been waiting for someone to say they love you, and I’m here to break the news that it’s never gonna happen, so you might as well accept it now.”

The silhouette lurches closer, a smattering of purple appearing around his neck. They pulse in time with Roman’s heart, a feeling like fire lighting up on his hands. He wipes them on his pants, trying to separate the bruises from what he doesn’t want to believe he tried to do. Grabbing him by the front of his shirt, the silhouette pulls him up to his feet with impossibly strong hands, pressing their faces together even as Roman tries to resist, tries to ignore the faint details masked almost completely by the shadows surrounding its features.

“What was it you wanted to hear again?” it asks. “Love, was it?” There’s an agonizing ache behind the voice as a clear face takes shape over top of the blank silhouette, an awful recreation of his mother’s face, undercut by the same purple bruises. When it opens its mouth, it has her honeysuckle tone, and Roman feels his stomach turn. “Oh, Roman, darling dearest, I love you.” It shifts, cycling through an impossible list of features and expressions before settling on something gut-wrenchingly similar to his father’s face. “Hey, kid. I love you, you know that?” Another shift, this time to a face that Roman doesn’t want to see, doesn’t want to picture, hates it hates it hates it let me go—

“Look at me, Roman,” Remy’s voice says, now aged well beyond any years it had the chance to experience. Roman can’t make himself look, but he feels matching bruises appear on his own throat with every second he ignores the face. Selfish, disgustingly selfish how he forces himself to look just to make the pain stop, but when he meets those eyes, he sees everything all at once—the arrow, the fall, the love that tore apart his mother, his father, ripping through Remy all at once as if it weren’t love but hate, hate, hate hate hate coursing through Roman’s veins as he meets the eyes that have no right being on this bastardization of Remy’s face and hears those awful terrible words echoing through his body, shaking him to his core. “I fzzt you.” Remy raises an eyebrow, trying again. “I fzzt you.” He smiles, an awful toothy expression. “Seems even you can’t imagine him saying it. Think I like this face best.” Remy leers at Roman, eyes wide enough to show the burning white on all sides. “I hate you.” Remy cocks his head to the side and grins, dropping Roman to the cold metal tracks and vanishing.

The voice does not come back.

Roman hates how relieved he is to drown in the silence. He’s starting to think finding Thomas might not be worth all this trouble, and that realization is enough to crumble the last of Roman’s dwindling spirit.

The shadows fold in around Roman as he buries his face between his knees and feels his body shake, his skin prickling as if it were being stabbed by millions of tiny arrows.

And he lies there.

And

He

Lies

There.

“Well, this simply won’t do,” a new voice, a warmer voice, a softer voice says. Roman doesn’t move, doesn’t even open his eyes. “I see that shadow boy got to you first. Can’t imagine what dark corners of your mind he brought to light to get you like this. I know you can hear me, but you don’t have to say anything. I’m going to pick you up now, okay? Lift one finger if you can hear me and don’t want me to do that.” Roman doesn’t move. “Okay, I’m picking you up now. Please stop me if you’re uncomfortable.” With that, Roman feels a sturdy set of arms wrap around him, lifting him carefully into the air.

Then, oddly, the arms seem to expand, growing more arms like branches on a tree trunk, completely enveloping Roman in a soft blanket of tentative warmth. He stubbornly keeps his eyes shut, still feeling all those tiny arrows, still hearing the echoes of that cold voice in his head, still seeing Remy’s eyes stare out as his whispered those damning words.

He loses track of how many times they play over in his head, I hate you I love you I hate you I hate hate hate hate hate you Roman I hate you, simply letting them wash over his soul because he doesn’t know what else to do with them. They must reach a breaking point eventually, because he falls back into himself in time to feel the blanket retracting, returning to a normal pair of arms, gently laying him down on what feels like a mattress. Roman stares at the backs of his eyelids,, wondering whether they’ll force him to start talking soon.

I hate you, Roman.

Surely it wouldn’t have been possibly for the voice to replicate it so perfectly without hearing Remy say the words himself. Right?

“Now, you’re under no obligation to talk about what happened if you don’t want to. Trust me, I know how thorough that shadow boy is about people who find themselves out here.” The return of the kind voice is jarring in comparison to the cold anger flickering in Roman’s head, the reassurance in this tone almost enough to convince Roman to open his eyes. Almost.

“I’m sure you had some idea of what you were doing if you made it this far,” the voice continues, “so you’re probably here because you heard about that Thomas character.” At this, Roman’s eyes fly open. The voice laughs softly. “Thought so. Nice to see you’re alive, at least.”

Now having no choice but to keep his eyes open, Roman sits up and surveys the area. A greenhouse, it looks like, incredibly humid with the sun beating in—when did it turn to daytime?—through the concentrated glass and reflecting off innumerable green leaves and yellow flowers and brown dirt. The person owning the voice almost blends into it all, his skin a dark tan and his fingers stained green, his hair a sandy blond and his bare feet covered in scrapes and dried mud.

“Name’s Patton. Pleasure,” he says, extending a hand to Roman. Roman stares at it, uncomprehending. “That shadow boy,” Patton tuts. “Never does know when to quit, does he?”

“Can you blame me?” the colder voice asks. “This one’s a downright monster.” Roman leaps to his feet, brandishing his fists like the arrows he so hates, searching for the source of the voice and hearing a low growl escape his lips. “Whoa, Patton, you see? Call off the dog, yeah?”

“What have I told you about harassing our guests?” Patton chastises. “Go on, get out. You’re only permitted around here at night, and you’ve lost even those privileges for the next couple days.” Watching Patton converse with the distant voice is a silly enough sight to relax Roman, who lowers his fists and settles back down on the mattress. “Now, onto you. How can I help you? A name would be beneficial to me, at least.”

“Uh, Roman. I, um, I came here to find Thomas.”

“Roman,” Patton repeats carefully, chewing on the second syllable. Something twists in Roman’s gut at the sound. “That so? Yes, yes, we’ve established the reason you came here, but in order to help you, you need to tell me why you wanted to find Thomas.”

“I want to know how he did it. How he escaped having magic.”

“I would hardly call it ‘escaped.’”

“So he does exist, then.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Well, where is he, if he does exist? I want to get rid of my magic, and if you can’t help me, I’d like to get going sooner than later.”

Patton cocks his head toward the more crowded section of the greenhouse, folding his arms and squinting at Roman through mud-splattered glasses. “He’s in the back, but I don’t think you’re going to like what you find.”

“I don’t think I asked you.”

“I don’t think you didn’t ask me,” Patton mutters, stepping aside as Roman darts past him. Roman barely remembers to keep his feet under himself as he barrels for the back of the room. Nothing in the world could prepare him for how sharply his heart stops.

“It’s a statue,” he whispers, staring in confusion at the cold marble figure. “He’s just a statue?”

“Just a statue,” Patton confirms, appearing behind him. “Just an idea of a person, for people like you who want to believe in that idea. But I know you didn’t really come here to get rid of your magic because of some fairy tale idea, did you?”

“Yes, I did,” Roman murmurs, staring at the statue, at the complete lack of life in its eyes. It was a lie, wasn’t it? It was always a lie, he never really had a chance. “I came here to get rid of it, all of it.” Something hot and wicked coils up in his chest.

“That so?” Patton rests a hand on Roman’s shoulder, ignoring how he flinches at the touch. Actually, he squeezes harder, holding Roman still. “And why is it that I don’t believe you, hm?” His nails dig in deeper. “Maybe it’s what you’re doing to my plants.”

Roman glances around to see all the petals and leaves and branches wilting, browning, slowly dying, their colors filtering through the air and into his lungs as he starts gasping for breath.

“My strongest love has always been for nature,” Patton continues, his grip almost too much to bear. “I pour my heart and soul into my plants, into growing life from the ground and letting it blossom into the air, and I think that’s pretty evident right about now.”

Roman hardly hears the words, still taking in more color, more light, more life, more love from Patton, feeling the room squeeze out its very essence into his body as he pulls and pulls and pulls, his gaze drifting back to the statue, to the dead silence behind those eyes.

“Go on,” Patton murmurs, an impossibly loud noise amidst the silence Roman has created in the room. “Fill an empty husk with love and see what happens.”

Roman can’t exhale, taking in more and more and more air and colors and life and love, his lungs well past full as he swallows more breaths than he can take and he’s choking on all the love in the room, all the energy Patton is funneling into his plants which are spitting it right back out into Roman’s throat and then he sees Remy in his head and looks closer at the statue’s eyes and it hurts, oh God it hurts, and he’s coughing and sputtering and releasing the colors and the life and the love in broken breaths, barely noticing as his body collapses beneath him, not strong enough to hold up his throbbing head, emptying himself of all the colors and the life and the love in his heart that he’s always given, the thing that hurt the worst when he took it for himself, all spilling out in a rush like a slash across the chest and filtering into the statue and flowing around it, the petals of the smallest flowers floating up and dancing around its head like a wreath as Roman exhales and exhales and blessedly exhales and when he’s finally empty of it all and there’s no more love left to give, Roman wonders whether this is what the love he’s always yearned for feels like.

Patton nudges Roman’s still form with his toe, wincing at the way the skin squishes like mud. “That went better than I expected it to, given how much you had to pull at the shadows.” He looks up at the statue, at the flowers slowing their rotations around its head, each coming to rest along the shoulders. His foot strikes something solid.

“Oh, now that’s interesting.” He reaches down and feels around in Roman’s pocket, producing a little metal heart from within the fabric. “We’ll call it an offering.” He lays it at the statue’s feet, and if he were a sentimental man, he might comment on how for the briefest of moments, a spark of life flashes behind the statue’s eyes before it falls dead and silent once more. In the instant after the light disappears from the face, his plants turn a brighter green, growing a solid few inches in mere seconds. “Change the name and restart the rumors.”

“On it,” the voice says. A very familiar wanted sign materializes behind Patton. By nightfall, word had traveled all the way back past Depot town and to the inner cities and into deaf ears that have already forgotten the person who could spin the sunshine into hope. Past the end of the line is a man free of magic by the name of Roman.

In the darkest corner of a neat little pub tucked away in Depot town, beside a jukebox slowly breaking apart its inner machinery, a man disassembles his glasses. He watches the pieces swirl around his head like a crown as he crumples the paper into a ball and stuffs it in his pocket. “Jackie, I’m heading out again. Got a train to catch.”

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[smallkitchenuniverse-blog]

Coffee Maker Buying Guide

Ah, coffee. It’s the preferred morning beverage for so many people and many of us can’t quite get our day started without it. Sure, coffee shops are ubiquitous, but there’s something to be said for having that first cup at home, perhaps still in pajamas, and without having to stand in line or speak coherently to other people. Even better, when you’re brewing your own, you can use exactly the beans you like, add flavorings or leave it plain, and add exactly the right amounts of milk, cream, or sweeteners. And it can be in your favorite mug instead of a disposable paper cup with an annoying lid. Plus, making coffee at home saves you a bundle.

No matter which coffee maker you choose, the basic concept is the same—ground coffee meets water, which extracts the flavor from the beans. The water drains through the beans which are held in a filter, so grit-free coffee is delivered to cup, mug, or carafe. While the process seems simple, different coffee makers can produce different results. The temperature of the water affects the flavors extracted from the ground beans, while the time the water is in contact with the beans can affect the strength of the brew. Some coffee makers use special techniques for stirring or agitating the grounds, while others shower the water over the grounds rather than sending it in a stream.

Coffee makers come in a variety of configurations, from non-electric pour-over models to electric drip coffee makers, to cup or capsule machines that make one cup at a time, to espresso machines. Cold brew coffee makers are a unique category since they use cold water to make either a coffee concentrate or they can produce a less concentrated version that’s ready to drink as-is. Prices can range from under $20 for the most simple units to several thousand dollars for high-end espresso machines.

What to Look for in a Coffee Maker?

There is a lot to consider when purchasing a coffee maker but most decisions have to deal with preference, cost, and convenience.

Convenience: Do you want a nearly hands-off coffee making experience in the morning, do you want the coffee waiting for you when you wake up or is the ritual of brewing coffee something you look forward to? A programmable electric coffee maker can have your coffee ready for you when you wake up. Less automated electric machines might require a little more attention, but still, operate with the push of a few buttons. Manual pour-over coffee makers—like French press brewers and stovetop espresso pots—all require your full attention for that perfect cup. While pod machines work well for households that all prefer a different type of coffee and not in large quantities.

Type of Coffee: While coffee makers and espresso machines tend to be separate machines, hybrid machines that brew both types of coffee are also available. Having two machines on the counter will take a lot of space, but it’s the best option if you love both coffee and espresso and want to make each perfectly. Hybrid machines will take less space and are likely to cost less than the purchase of two separate machines, but they may not be the best choice if you’re looking for the highest quality of both coffee and espresso. Pod machines often have espresso type drink option but they aren't the most authentic so if you like traditional espresso or cappuccino it's best to skip these.

Brew Size: From a single cup to a family-sized carafe, there are coffee makers that can brew just the amount you need. Some machines offer a rather wide range of brew sizes, while others are restricted to a much narrower range of options. Single-cup brewers are great for people who live alone or where each person prefers a different flavor or style of coffee. They’re also great for households where everyone wakes at a different time. Brewers that make larger quantities are great for people who love lots of coffee, and for family breakfasts, brunch with the neighbors, or dinner parties where coffee is served. Large brewers are often labeled10 to 12 cups but just be warned a "cup" of coffee in a machine is only 5 to 6 ozs, not 8 or 16! For large parties, you can even find commercial-sized brewers that can brew enough coffee for small events.

Timing: If your household drinks coffee throughout the day you might want to opt for a coffee maker that has a thermal carafe that will keep the coffee piping hot no matter the time of day. For those that just drink java in the morning a glass brewer with a warming plate should suffice, but some people don't like the burnt taste the warmers can cause if left on there for too long. For families that are running out the door in the morning, a pod machine can get you a quick cup with no need to worry if you left the machine on.

Sizing: While the size of a machine won't affect your cup of joe, if the machine doesn't fit in the space it is designated for it it can cause a bunch of headaches. Be sure to measure accurately and account for if you need to open the top of the machine to add water and grounds. For single serve machines consider your mug sizes. Many larger mugs won't fit under the brewer.

Custom Brewing Options: The most basic machines have virtually no options aside from adding more or fewer coffee grounds or water, while more complicated machines let you choose water temperature, brew strength, and a wide variety of brew sizes. Cup and capsule machines offer options for making hot chocolate, tea, and more. In general, simple machines are less expensive and are likely to be easier to use since you can’t accidentally choose the wrong option.

Extra Features: Some machines go beyond brewing options, and include options for programmed brewing at a specific time, keep-warm or auto-shutoff, or a thermal carafe to keep the coffee warm. Some include audible alerts when the coffee is done brewing, and most of the electric models have lights that signify when the brewer is on or when the coffee is done. Higher end machines might include features like milk frothing, bean grinding, and notifications when the machine needs to be cleaned. Espresso machines and hybrid coffee/espresso brewers tend to offer the most options, and they also come with the highest price tags.

What Is the Best Coffee Maker for Me?

Non-Electric Brewers

While electric coffee makers offer convenience, they also tend to take up permanent countertop space. Non-electric brewers, including French press, pour-over, and stovetop espresso pots have a much smaller footprint in use and can be stored in a cabinet when they’re not needed. Pour-over and French press machines require hot water, so you’ll need to boil that in a separate pot on the stove or have an electric teakettle standing by with hot water, while stovetop espresso pots boil and brew right in the pot. While all of these are simple to use, they also require your attention to make the coffee properly, so you won’t wake up to already-brewed coffee. But many coffee aficionados prefer the taste of French press coffee to electric drip ones.

Electric Drip Coffee Makers

Drip coffee makers are simple to use and let you choose your own beans, whether you prefer to grind your own or buy pre-ground. You can brew plain, flavored or decaf coffee or mix your own favorite blend, and you can add more or fewer grounds to adjust the strength of the brew. While many drip coffee makers are simple units with just an on/off switch that heats the water and sends it through the grounds, there is a whole range of more complex machines that have a long list of features, options, and adjustments that let you brew your coffee exactly the way you like it.

Single-Serve Machines

Single-cup machines that use capsules or cups are among the easiest to use since you don’t have to fuss with messy coffee grounds. To use them, you simply insert the cup (or capsule) and brew. Some machines can read the information on the cup and set a custom temperature, while others let you choose your own temperature and cup size. The most basic machines use the same temperature for every brew, while possibly allowing you to adjust the cup size. While cup and capsule machines are simple to use, they create more packaging waste per cup of coffee. Most cup and capsule machines require the use of proprietary supplies, but you can also purchase a special cup buy separate manufacturers that let you use your own blend of grounds.

Espresso Machines

Dedicated espresso machines range from inexpensive to super-high-end, to fit any espresso drinkers needs. They also come in a variety of styles, from stovetop models to pod machines, to those that use ground beans. Whether you want an occasional cup of espresso as a treat or it’s your favorite version of coffee, there is probably a machine that will fit your kitchen and your lifestyle. While the best espresso machines are dedicated to making just espresso, there are also hybrid machines that can brew both regular coffee and espresso. While these are not usually the best espresso machines, you won’t need two separate machines for your coffee needs.

Cold Brew Coffee Makers

Cold brew is a different category of coffee brewing since it uses cold water, and sometimes even ice water, to extract flavor from the ground beans. Most of these require a long steeping time, up to 24 hours, to produce the cold brewed coffee. When using less coffee and more water, cold coffee brewers can produce coffee that’s ready to drink as-is, either cold or heated, or you can use more coffee to create a concentrate that can be added to hot water or poured over ice. The advantage to cold brewed coffee is that it’s less acidic and tastes less bitter than conventionally brewed coffee. The downside to cold brew is the long steeping time. You need to plan well ahead of time for your coffee. However, you can brew it in large enough quantities to refrigerate it to be used over several days to two weeks depending on the strength.

Leading Manufacturers

Bunn: The Bunn name might sound familiar even if you’ve never owned one of their coffee makers because it’s a very common brand in restaurants. There’s a good chance you’ve seen a commercial Bunn coffee maker in your favorite diner, and you know how good that coffee can be. Bunn also makes coffee makers for homes, with the same quality and some of the same features as their commercial counterparts. If you drink a lot of coffee, they even make brewers that keep the water hot at all times, so your next pot of coffee will be ready almost instantly.

Mr. Coffee: Best known for its simple electric drip coffee makers, Mr. Coffee has been used in home kitchens for generations. Now, they’ve branched out into other types of coffee makers, but the bulk of their models are still electric drip models. From super-simple models with an on/off switch to those with options that will let you schedule your coffee ahead of time, Mr. Coffee has it all and is generally a solid performer at an affordable price.

Ninja: Known for its unique blenders, Ninja has taken its innovative approach into the word of coffee, with brewers that are just as mold-breaking as the blenders. Their brewers tend to offer greater ranges for brew sizes, and well as multiple options for different coffee styles. If you like custom coffee, this is a brand that’s worth a close look.

Cuisinart: Best known for its food processors, the Cuisinart company has expanded its product line to most types of kitchen electrics, including some coffee makers that have gotten great reviews and high ratings from users. These are quality-built machines, mostly in the mid-price range. If you’re looking for a solidly built coffee maker that won’t break the bank, this brand won’t disappoint.

Breville: On the high-priced end for coffee makers, Breville offers solidly-built quality products that look classy and work well. They also make several models of espresso machines from affordable to higher-priced models. On the coffee machines, you’ll find features like precise temperature controls and a pour-over option, while the espresso machines have all the bells and whistles you’d expect.

Bodum: This brand is possibly best known for its wide array of French press coffee makers. They also make attractive pour over coffee makers as well as a stovetop vacuum coffee maker and an electric drip machine. If you’re looking for a French press coffee maker, Bodum is likely to have on in the size and material you’re looking for.

Chemex: First introduced in 1941, the Chemex coffee maker is simple, elegant, and functional. When introduced, most coffee at home was made in a percolator, while the Chemex was a pour-over design. While it didn’t take the coffee world by storm then, it is still a favorite among coffee drinkers who prefer pour-over, and the design remains attractive and timeless.

Keurig: One of the pioneers of single-cup coffee systems, Keurig coffeemakers use the proprietary K-Cups to make a wide variety drinks including coffee, tea, and hot chocolate. The K-Cups are widely available in grocery stores, with even more available online. While the Keurig models made by the company are usually designed to use only the K-Cups, there are some coffee makers that can also use adapters for your own favorite ground coffee.

Accessories

While coffee makers don’t typically come with a lot of accessories, they're a few things you might want to consider. A coffee scoop will help you measure the right amount of coffee to the number of cups you are brewing. A permanent filter in a machine eliminates the need for paper filters which can be a pain to keep in stock. Some machines come with this but you can buy them separately if you choose. And if you want the freshest tasting coffee it is always wise to grind your own beans at home, so if your machine doesn't have a grinder you might want to invest in your own coffee grinder.

Warranties

Warranties vary by brand and model, with some carrying a simple 30-day warranty, while others have a one-year parts-and-labor warranty. Two- or three-year limited warranties which only cover manufacturer’s defects are also quite common.

[popular-pump-seals]

Introduction To Agitator Seals - A Definitive Guide

If the mechanical seals of the stirrer are not correct, this can lead to a high risk of product contamination in various industries, especially in the pharmaceutical and food industries. Contamination of the product can easily reduce the quality of the product or make it unusable.

Stirrer seals are used in various sectors which mainly include vessels, glass-lined vessels, blowers, and reactors. Agitator Mechanical seals work in different environments, so we design them with different environmental conditions in mind, which is very important.

Popular Pump Seals is a leading agitator mechanical seal manufacturer in India, designing seals as per your process, environment, and pressure requirements.

With every requirement in mind and using cost-effective technology, we build agitator seals that can deliver efficient performance in your industry.

We offer much more than these; browse this blog to learn what mechanical agitator seals are, their benefits and applications, as well as some important factors to consider when purchasing agitator seals, with easy ways to avoid seals failure.

What is a stirrer mechanical seal?

Mechanical agitator seals are factory-made cartridge units operated on mixtures, agitators and reactor vessels for corrosive and hazardous compounds throughout the reaction process.

Strongly designed with vibration isolated faces to withstand the drag and shear conditions that destroy conventional seals. The mixing mixer offers excellent movement tolerance and has the ability to withstand instantaneous pressure shifts.

Mechanical seals The mixers are independent of the direction of rotation and have a robust bearing support for smooth operation and protection of the sealing surfaces against the load of other parts of the equipment.

The seals have replaceable parts and can be converted by changing the dynamic ring and secondary seals, making them compatible with a wide range of applications.

At Popular Pump Seals, we develop agitator seals that are precisely engineered to construction specifications to provide optimum performance even under high vacuum conditions.

What Are The Applications Of The Agitator Seal?

Agitator Mechanical seals have a wide range of applications; some of agitator mechanical seal uses are,

Food Products

Gas

Corrosive Chemicals

Pharma

Vapors

Salient Features:

Sturdy construction

Long Life Performance

Corrosion resistant

Consists hardness

Dimensionally accurate

Temperature resistant

Abrasion resistant

Leakage proof

Independent of direction of rotation

Low Maintenance

Require Less Space

What Are The Types Of Agitator Seals?

There are specifically four types of Agitator Seals,

Dry running seals

Gas-lubricated seals

Liquid-lubricated seals

Shut-down seals

Working principle of the agitator seal

An agitator seal is a device used to seal between the rotating and stationary parts of the agitator, the agitator, and the vessel. The agitator seal creates a restricted flow path during processing. This restricted flow path created is either an axial or radial gap.

Factors to consider when choosing an agitator seal:If you want your Agitator mechanical seal to work for many years without any problems, you need to know the various factors to consider when selecting them for your applications.

You need to determine the operating conditions of the seal, the material of construction, the service life, and many other factors.

Below are important factors to consider to avoid making the wrong gasket selection.

Temperature:

It is important to consider the temperature that the gasket material can handle. If the selected seal cannot withstand the higher temperature, it will not be able to handle the higher temperature liquid.

Liquid:

Determine if the seal material is chemically compatible enough to handle the fluid and check if there is any risk of failure.

Pressure:

Choose the right type and size of the seal that is suitable for the pressure rate of your application.

After checking all these above-mentioned operating conditions, other characteristics to notice are;

Temperature constraints

Chemical resistance properties

Flexibility

Wear resistance

Thermal expansion and conductivity properties

Wear resistance

Low leakage & friction properties

Good thermal properties

Corrosion resistant

Seal type and accuracy

Stationary or rotating seal

Arrangement of the seal

Orientation and configuration of the seal

Material

Conclusion

Every gasket has a different use and we have the right solution for all of them. At

Popular Pump Seals, we understand process conditions and other operational and cleaning requirements, so we supply the right mechanical agitator seal that has proven itself over time. To be a leading manufacturer of

agitator mechanical seals; in Ahmedabad, Gujarat, India, we provide industries with cost-effective technological advances that improve equipment performance. With fast and qualified technical support, we deliver the right facial technology for the right application.

So if you need the most suitable agitator seal for your application, request a FREE quote now.

To learn more about our wide range of mechanical seals, visit our website:

https://popularpumpseals.com/

[ablazeglassworks]

What are the various types of Batch Reactor and their Applications?

In the chemical and pharmaceutical sectors, a common vessel type is called a batch reactor. This sort of jar is employed for many different processes despite its misleading name, including dissolving solids, mixing products, undergoing chemical reactions, distilling in batches, crystallising substances, extracting liquids from other liquids, and polymerizing substances. They may not always go by the title "realtor," but rather a term that better describes their work.

  As a rule, a batch reactor is indeed a storage tank that comes with an agitator and a built-in heating/cooling system. Their capacity ranges from a few ounces to over fifteen thousand gallons. Glass-lined steel, stainless steel, glass, steel, as well as unusual alloy are the most common materials used in their construction. The reactor's top cover often has ports for charging liquids and solids. Connections at the top allow gases and vapours to be released. When discharging liquids, they often go out the bottom.

 The flexibility of a robust batch reactor manufactured by an excellent batch reactor manufacturer in India is where its greatest strength lies. Multiple operations can be performed in succession within a single vessel without compromising containment. This is especially helpful when working with extremely powerful or dangerous chemicals.

Agitation:

A driveshaft in the middle of the agitator and a motor installed on top of the agitator is the standard setup. The blades of the impeller are attached to the shaft. There are many different blade designs, but generally speaking, the blades will cover around two-thirds of the reactor's diameter. Anchor-shaped paddles, with minimal space between the vessel walls and the blade, are commonly employed for transporting and manipulating viscous goods.

 Baffles are a common component of reactors that operate in a batch mode. These are fixed blades that disrupt the flow generated by the agitator's rotation. These can be attached to the inside of the vessel's walls or to the vessel's outside cover.

 Although advancements in agitator baffle and blade design have helped, the amount of energy available remains the limiting factor when it comes to mixing in big batch reactors. If the mixing energy is higher than 5 W/l, the cooling system may struggle to keep up with the load on a large vessel. Problems with shaft stability can also be caused by excessive loads on the agitator. In cases where thorough mixing is essential, a batch reactor is not the best choice. The use of high-speed agitators, ultrasonic mixing, or static mixers in conjunction with reduced-scale, flowing systems allows for significantly greater mixing rates than is possible with conventional methods.

Cooling as well as Heating systems:

During processing, the products within a batch reactor may either release or absorb heat. Stirring heated liquids around in storage containers is a waste of energy. It is necessary to either supply heat to or remove heat from the reactor's contents via a cooling jacket or pipe in order to maintain the proper temperature. Batch reactors can be heated and cooled using either internal coils or external jackets. To either add or remove heat, fluid is circulated through the jacket and coils. External cooling jackets are typically chosen in the pharmaceutical as well as chemical sectors due to their convenience when cleaning the vessel.

 The coefficient of heat transfer is a variable that may be considered crucial. However, it is important to remember that large batch reactors equipped with external cooling jackets are subject to severe heat transmission restrictions due to their unique architectural configuration. Even with perfect heat transfer, it is challenging to go above 100 Watts/litre. A cooling capacity of more than 10,000 W/litre can be produced by continuous reactors. However, batch reactors are not the best option for procedures that generate a lot of heat.

 When working with a temperature-sensitive product, such as during crystallisation, a quick response time from the temperature control system and uniform heating and cooling from the jacket is crucial. It is possible to choose from a variety of batch reactor cooling jackets mentioned below by Ablaze Glass Works - the most reliable Batch reactor manufacturer and supplier in Gujarat.

1.   Single external jacket:

The exterior shell of the vessel is protected by a single jacket in this configuration. High-velocity heat transfer fluid is sprayed from nozzles at high pressure all the way around the jacket. The jacket's interior temperature can be set to either warm or cool the wearer.

 A single jacket is the most conventional form of outer layer for temperature regulation. However, there are still some drawbacks to this tried and true approach. Adjusting the fluid temperature in a large ship's cooling jacket can take several minutes. This leads to a lack of responsiveness in regulating temperature. Heating or cooling can be inconsistent around the dish's sides and bottom because of poor heat transfer fluid distribution. Heat transfer fluid input temperature can vary widely, leading to hot and cold spots at the jacket inlet sites.

2.   Half coil jacket:

To build the half coil jacket, a half-pipe is welded around the vessel's outside to provide a semicircular flow channel. Plug flow characterises the movement of the heat transfer fluid through the channel. To transport the heat transfer fluid, a big reactor may employ more than one coil. Similarly to how one may adjust the heating or cooling in a single jacket, this system allows for individual jackets to have their own individual temperature settings.

 Faster heat transfer fluid displacement is possible in a half coil jacket due to its plug flow properties. Good temperature regulation requires this. As a bonus, the even supply of heat transfer fluid between the dish's walls and its base solves the issue of temperature differences between the two. To the same extent as the input heat transfer fluid is susceptible to large temperature swings, the single jacket design is as well.

3.   Constant flux cooling jacket:

Constant flux cooling jackets have only been around for a short amount of time. It's not just one jacket, but rather a collection of twenty or more separate ones. The valve's ability to regulate temperatures is based on the ability to open and close these passageways. The process temperature can be controlled without affecting the jacket temperature by adjusting the heat transfer area in this way.

 The heat transfer fluid’s high velocity as well as the small length of the flow channels provide the constant flux jacket with an extremely fast temperature control response (usually less than 5 seconds). The cooling /heating flux is also consistent, much like the half coil jacket. However, unlike other jackets, this one maintains a very stable inlet temperature throughout operation. This jacket is unique in that it allows for precise measurement of process heat. By keeping tabs on the reaction rate, the user can keep tabs on addition rates, regulate crystallisation, and find the endpoints of reactions.

Applications:

The process sector frequently makes use of batch reactors. There are a wide variety of uses for batch reactors in the lab, including pilot-scale manufacturing and inducing fermentation in beverages. In addition, they have extensive application in the pharmaceutical industry. Running batch reactors can be costly and their reliability in producing consistent results is often questioned. Moreover, they are put to use in studies of reaction kinetics, volatiles, and thermodynamics. Wastewater treatment is another common application for batch reactors. They effectively decrease the biological oxygen demand (BOD) of raw water being used as an input (influent).

[marketresearchindia]

Global Gass-Lined Reactor Market Is Predicted To Propel During The Review Duration Owing To Progressive Functioning Of Players: Ken Research

Buy Now

In the chemical and pharmaceutical sector, a glass lined reactor is utilized given their compatibility with a broad range of chemicals. The reactor is a vessel with an agitator that enable the mixing of chemicals in a contained environment. The reactor can be pressurised and function in a range of temperatures. The top section of the reactor enables the process nozzles to link which bring in the chemicals and gases as suitable and enable for cleaning head nozzles.

According to the report analysis, ‘Global Gass-lined Reactor Industry Research Report 2021 Segmented by Major Market Players, Types, Applications and Countries Forecast to 2027’ states that Pfaudler GmbH, Jiangsu Yang-Yang Chemical Equipment Plant Inc, 3V TECH, De Dietrich Process Systems, Buchiglas, Zibo Taiji Industrial Enamel Co.,Ltd., Swiss Glascoat Equipments, THALETEC, JIANGSU LIYANG YUNLONG EQUIPMENT MANUFACTURING CO.,LTD., Changzhou Huanghe Chemical Equipment Co.,Ltd., Zhongsheng Machinery, Sino-Japanese Technology Hezuo Enterprise Jiangsu Gongtang Chemical Equipment Co.,Ltd. and many more are the foremost entities which presently operating in the global gas-lined reactor market more actively for ruling around the globe, registering the great value of market share, leading the highest market growth, keep maintaining the governing position, generating the highest percentage of revenue and obtaining the competitive edge by improving the qualitative and quantitative measures of such, implementing the policies of profit making and strategies of expansion, establishing the countless research and development programs, delivering the better customer satisfaction, employing the young and active personnel, spreading the awareness connected to the applications and advantages of gass-lined reactor, increasing the benefits and features of gass-lined reactor, and analysing the strategies and policies of government as well as contenders.

On the basis of types, the global gass-lined reactor market is categorized into type AE, type BE and type CE. On the basis of applications, the global gass-lined reactor market is classified into pharmaceutical, petroleum chemical industry and food industry. Pharmaceutical segment register the global market due to they are primarily utilized to advance the properties of product. The food industry is projected to observe higher growth rate as a result of augment in consumption of food products during the review period.

Request For Sample Report-https://kenresearch.com/sample-report.php?Frmdetails=NDQ0Njgw

Based on the regional analysis, the Asia Pacific region is the leading region in ‘Global gass-lined reactor market’ due to existence of large number of manufactures of gass-lined reactor, growth in demand for chemicals with great compatibility coupled with growth in population around the region. Not only has this, the North America and Europe regions are projected to observe the greater growth rate owing to growth in requirement for food product and high requirement for gass-lined reactor from the robust chemical industries over the review duration. It is predicted that the global gass-lined reactor market will be reached at the speedy pace owing to augment in utilization of gass-lined reactor for giving the compatibility to chemicals and pharmaceutical product during the review duration.

For More Information, refer to below link:-

Global Gass-Lined Reactor Market Research Report

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[phoenixtakaramono]

Finders Keepers ch5 Sneak Peek

It was an unspoken fact that history was written by its victors and its sufferers. It culminates in a selective retelling of events that is passed down via the education systems located throughout the galaxies.

During the time of the Last Corporate War—with the survivors being Anshin, Atlas, Dahl, Hyperion, Jakobs, Maliwan, Pangolin, S&S Munitions, Tediore, Vladof, and other megacorporations—only one emerged to stand at the forefront of innovation. With the fortunate excavation on the planet Promethea, Atlas Corporation had reverse-engineered the alien Eridian technology to give themselves an edge over their competitors.

With the discovery came a new line of machines, starships, and weaponry that were to be manufactured, as well as the earlier prototypes of the digistruct technology. Eventually all that led to the colonization of the planet Pandora and a monopoly of the interplanetary scale, allowing Atlas control over a significant portion of the market for goods and services. Their success had spurred on other megacorporations to explore other frontier planets in search of more alien technology and similar resources.

Yet of the numerous planets that made up the solar system, only a few of them were well-known intergalactically.

Many knew Aquator to be a scenic tourist hotspot with its many small islands to vacation on.

Athenas was known to be a planet governed by the Order of the Impending Storm—a religious monastic sect whose influence reached all aspects of their civilization.

Dionysus was a party planet, known for visitors’ drunken escapees and the tourist tagline “what happens in Dionysus, stays in Dionysus.”

Hermes was a planet with a thin atmosphere that was rich in helium, orbiting around a giant blue star instead of the sun.

Pandora was one of the frontier planets, recently colonized by Atlas—and other megacorporations like Dahl and Hyperion—as a research test site and as a settlement.

The last was Promethea, an environment of harsh extraterrestrial living conditions because of the excessive mining, rapid industrialization, martial law, and the like.

Planets like Artemis, Demophon, Eden-5, Eden-6, Eden-7, Epitah, Eunomia, Grophic IV, Hephaestus, Hera, Hestias, Hieronymous, Honus 4651, Isolus, Menoetius, Tantalus, Themis, and Thrace had their own reputations, but they were universally regarded to be on the same respectable level as the old planetary system.

Modeled after Earth, all of the Edens founded were known to be settlements of research, boasting of academic excellence, selectivity in admissions, and social elitism. Only the brightest—or the wealthy—were allowed citizenship or temporary student visas, to learn at the competing prestigious institutions and to increase their prospects of being hired by a megacorporation. Largely peaceful, the citizens of these planets were accustomed to a life of high-tech luxuries.

And unlike Eden-5 whose reputation was overshadowed by their corrupt police force, Eden-7 had some of the largest university financial endowments which allowed for many resources for their academic programs and research endeavors.

Bordering the main hub of the city was a tall building. Not quite a skyscraper, the architecture resembled that of an industrial hangar that had been elongated to touch the skies.

Pulling into the nearest available parking spot, a well-dressed long-limbed man emerged from a black vehicle. His hair seemed to have a burnished bronze luster from the sun.

Smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles in his suit and anxiously adjusting his tie, he walked around to the passenger side to retrieve a clunky robotic prototype. Pressing the ON/OFF button, he waited for it to finish activation.

Snatching the laptop briefcase in the meanwhile, he murmured to the floating device, “Alright, it’s our moment to shine, Dumpy.” Closing the door with a nudge of his hip, he pocketed the key fob after hearing the car beep. “We got this in the bag.” He smacked the briefcase. “Confidence is the key.”

A deep, synthetic baritone—the voice package belonged to the deceased actor James Earl Jones—replied in the affirmative.

Deliberately tilting his chin up, Rhys left the parking with Dumpy whirring in the air quietly beside him. Not once did he allow himself to look down at his feet or to avoid eye contact.

At this time, even with the employees retiring for the night, it seemed the world was at its usual and undisturbed.

The uniforms that Atlas personnel wore was a curious mix of business and military dress code, which was what distinguished one from the other. Red accents were intermingled in a mostly dark or neutral color palette.

Cyborgs—humans having undergone cybernetic enhancement surgery such as bionic limbs or microchip implants—and androids were virtually indistinguishable. A usual sight, they shambled along with the rest of the unaugmented humans.

Soon, Rhys spotted an interesting individual among the crowd that wound around a giant statue. The first thought that came to his head was the word “white;” her hair and skin were bleached of all color, like a ghost.

The woman was dressed in a furred-collar military vest worn over a black T- shirt that exposed her midriff. Leather trousers hugged her figure, as well as her knee-high boots. Even as she marched her back was ramrod-straight, like a sword forged of steel. Likely due to the leather material of the long opera-length gloves she wore, they reminded Rhys of the black rubber gloves that a butcher would use instead of a fashionable evening accessory.

There was even a large Bowie knife strapped to the belt and a gun holster. Since the sight of her didn’t cause anyone alarm, he could only assume that she was authorized to carry weapons in plain sight.

She drew several stares from passersby, which Rhys suspected wasn’t only for her distinguishing features.

He narrowed his eyes. There was the smallest sense of recognition, although it escaped his memory of how and where he has seen her before. As they traveled, the waning sun could be seen through the openings placed strategically throughout the compound. A gradience of crimsons, oranges, and golds was suffused over the rigid gunmetal grays.

The building was once a product of its times—an outdated corporate steel-and-glass facade—before the property on the real estate market had been purchased by the CEO. During the initial remodeling phase, the exposed foundation and rusted structure made it appear like a skeleton with its flesh peeled off.

The soles of his shoes were clacking against the industrial-sized plates as Rhys craned his neck, spotting the Atlas logo affixed overhead. Neon yellow LED tubing was installed throughout the architecture.

The crowd had thinned at the entrance, where the woman was headed toward. By this time, the premises was mostly deserted.

That illusion of calm was shattered when the woman jerked to a sudden halt.

A split second later, she evaded the gunshots by pitching her body into a barrel roll. Scorched dents were left in the metal where she once stood.

Slamming her hand and feet onto the ground, the woman regained balance. She had already been in mid-motion of reaching into her holster, but she froze up at the sight of the two guns trained on her.

A spear of ice pierced Rhys from the top of his head to the soles of his feet.

Hastily retreating a few steps back, he felt his back collide roughly against the pedestal of the Greek titan Atlas. Looming overhead, the statue was hoisting a massive sphere meant to represent Earth.

“Don’t let them see you,” he hissed, snatching Dumpy from midair. Sweat was adhering his dress shirt to his skin. He leaned slightly forward, ignoring the simulated heavy breathing from the robot’s voice modulator. “Let me see what you see. Enhance.”

Much like a video recorder, Dumpy was recording the situation live. The zoom function allowed Rhys to see a close-up of the two armed assailants who had trodden forth. They’d worn nondescript clothing meant to blend in and catch their target off-guard. If it hadn’t been for their faces, he wouldn’t have been able to ascertain the gender from just their builds alone.

Rhys wasn’t much of an expert on firearms—his knowledge of guns was limited to movies and video games—but the make and model appeared vintage, likely contraband. Guns made on Earth were considered outdated and weak compared to the advanced arms mass-produced by megacorporations today.

Rhys was too far to hear the quieter words being exchanged, but the volume of the shouting was clearly agitated. They were yelling at her to drop her gun and to kick it away.

This did not seem like a drill.

Only the three individuals were found up ahead. With no one else emerging from the sliding doors, it seemed the building had gone under lockdown. Security cameras were pointed down at the scene.

The inactivity was making him restless. “What’s taking so long?” he demanded. “Why isn’t anyone doing anything?”

“It is likely the result of the bystander effect and other causes,” Dumpy commented in its deep, measured intonation. “Do you want me to call the authorities? It is prudent to reduce fatal casualties.”

The robot’s unaffected droning had managed to steady his nerves somewhat, helping him regain a semblance of self-control. Rhys worried his lower lip.

The sun was slowly falling below the horizon, and darkness threatened to swallow the world.

Waiting for the police to arrive might be a risk that he wasn’t certain the lady could afford to have. On the other hand, he would likely be gunned down the instant that he called attention to himself; running was not ideal.

He had to create a distraction.

“No.” Rhys sank down into a crouch. His hands were trembling. “We’re going to do one better.”

Managing to enter the correct numeric sequence into the holographic lock, he snapped the briefcase open and disengaged the laptop from Sleep mode. His fingers fumbled across the keyboard, entering the lengthy password.

Forcing his fear back, he whispered, “I’m going to disable the lights. It’ll give you a narrow window before the backup generator starts. I’ll need you to activate your defense matrix and take out those two guys. Don’t overdo the voltage.” He glanced up. “Do you think we can pull that off?”

Processing the command, Dumpy calculated the plan’s estimated percentage of success aloud. It also warned that what Rhys was doing was illegal.

“Well, we’re going to try.” Every movement was essentially muscle memory, like a choreographed dance. Brown eyes darted across the screen. “Good thing I still have remote access to the server. This is child’s play. ...Sorry, buddy. You’re gonna be the hero. I believe in you.”

The sun had set completely, with only the artificial lights illuminating the compound. Switching off the electricity supply a few precious minutes later, they were plunged into absolute darkness.

For a few seconds, he could make out nothing but dark lumps—silhouettes who were startled by the abrupt power outage. There was not much time. Motioning rapidly, Rhys hissed under his breath, “Go, go, go!”

He was crossing his fingers.

For a moment, the shape of Dumpy could be seen hovering over one of the men.

There was an unnatural humming, before white-blue light abruptly burst into vision, temporarily igniting the night. The man’s limbs were flailing as though a live wire had been attached to each of his nerves, his body convulsing like a rag doll as the violent electrical current pulsed through him. Not a moment too soon, the tased man collapsed, paralyzed, and his partner shouted his name.

Like machine fire, shots were unloaded blindly at the crackling light. They sounded like fireworks going off, with missed bullets shaking the entire building structure.

Despite Dumpy’s best attempts at evasion—dodging, flying like an erratic pendulum—sparks could be seen when bullets struck sheet metal.

Rhys’ heart plummeted. To his horror, even with the bulletproof design, the robot was soon spiraling out of control. Crashing into the ground like a small meteor, upon impact its emotionless “ow, ow, ow” distorted in volume, becoming an unintelligible screech.

“Nooo! Dumpy!”

“Atlas will never fall!” The voice was female and vaguely familiar; it had come slicing through the shadows as sharp as a knife.

In the distraction, semi-translucent wings, reminding Rhys of crackling electricity, unfurled from the lithe woman’s back like a butterfly from a cocoon. Half of her body was glowing, where the Siren birthmarks were.

It was over in a second.

By the time the man whirled on his feet, a dime-sized hole had been left between his eyes, revealing liquefied brain matter. The woman could be seen standing upright, the barrel of her customized pearlescent revolver smoking slightly from the discharged elemental round. Her finger only left the trigger when the assailant fell.

Nobody in this place moved a muscle, and it was so quiet that even the sound of their breathing could be heard.

(Ch 1-4 of the scifi AU Finders Keepers can be found on AO3! Ch5 is currently in progress.)

[neetaworld]

Meaning & Types of Industrial Bellows & Joints

Rubber expansion bellow can be used for suction as well as delivery  because of its tremendous stability and pressure capacity. Most common available materials are Hypalon Rubber Bellows, Spring Loaded Rubber Bellow, Metal Rubber bellows with rotating.Nuclear and fossil fuel plants use rubber expansion joints to repay for thermal enlargement and shrinking on condense lines, steam turbine exhaust lines, condensate lines, cooling water lines and aeration systems.

 Some types of bellows are as follows:

C Type Bellows :- C Type Bellows are designed to protect precession Guide ways of M/C. From coolent, Dust, and Metal Chips. The offered bellows are made from high-grade materials. These bellows are used for covering guideways of CNC machines  / Cylindrical Grinding Machines.

Aluminised glass c type fabric bellows -  Aluminised glass fabric c type bellows are available in diversified series of sizes. These bellows are extensively admired for their high resistance to chemical & corrosion.

Shape bellow -  The shape of a bellow also plays a very important role. There are many shapes of bellows available in Today's market. Some Example are Hexagonal Fabric Bellows, Square Fabric Bellows, Round Fabric Bellows, Aluminised Glass C-Type Bellows & Aluminised High Temp.Hexagonal Bellows 

Circular Canvas Bellow- Canvas Bellows are used in the substantial manufacturing industries for passage, which is to provide the vent to a blower. Apart from this, they are also used in emission of industrial blowers.

Leather Bellows- Cement, Textile & Steel Industries mostly use leather bellows to protect machine parts of the metal cover. Leather Bellows are most used in today's market. Leather Flexible Bellows are generally used in industrial applications like in load cells.

PTFE Bellows- PTFE Bellows are widely used in different chemical plants and other industrial applications. PTFE bellows come into their self for abrasive, high clarity or hot applications. To protect running machine parts from external influences these bellows are used.

Plastic Bellows-  Plastic Bellows Bellows are commonly used in piping systems like pulse dampeners or covers to safeguard reciprocating components. Plastic bellows can assist a variety of functions, such as suctioning or collecting liquids, pumping, damping vibration. Some example of plastic bellows are Nylon Plast Polyester Bellows, Plastic Flexible Bellow.

PTFE Linings-  PTFE (Teflon) is praised for its application in caldron frying pans coating  and other cookware, as it is aquaphobic and have plausibly aversion to heat. PTFE  is a simulated fluoropolymer of tetrafluoroethylene that finds number of utilization.  PTFE is unmoving to virtually all chemicals and solvents when used in thick sections. Some types of PTFE Lining Coating are Pipe Joints, Reducers Lining, PTFE Lining Coating Valves, Pipe PTFE Coatings.

Xylan coatings-  Xylan Coatings are a pedigree of fluropolymer coatings,  whose purpose is to use it on machined components and fasteners to protect corrosion and facilitate makeup rotation. Nut Xylan Coatings are a waterborne/VOC compliant, resin bonded, thermally cured, single dry film lubricant, and known as "extreme performance coatings. 

PTFE Lined Stirrer- MS PTFE lined stirrers purpose is to tackle the problems faced with the pure Glass tube stirrer, while mixing or stirring of viscous fluids. They are designed to resist high mechanical loads inflicted while mixing or agitation in process vessels.

Lined Valve Fitting-  A fitting or annex is used in pipe systems to link straight sections of pipe or tube. There are many types of Valves available depending on design and purpose.

[lodhainternationalllp]

Packaging Machines for Different Industries

The packaging machines play a very important role in Pharmaceutical, Biotech, Veterinary, Food, Cosmetic & Beverage market. They include an entire range of machines, converting the raw material into a finished and packaged product. Lodha International LLP supplies high-grade packaging machines that are capable of working for a prolonged period. The packaging machine segment includes Sterile Washing Machine, Liquid Filling Machine, Powder, Filling Machine, Cap Sealing Machine, Sticker Labeling Machine, Packaging Machine, Capsule Section, Tablet Section, Process Equipment, Sterilizing Equipment, Chemical Machinery, Packing Conveyor, Turn Table, and Inspection Machine.

Powder Filling Machine:

The powder filling machine is used to fill the containers with the content that is crushed in the powder form. Automatic vial powder filling machine is a highly efficient machine and performs quick operation without requiring more workforce. It is more suitable for round glass vials having a maximum speed of 120 vials per minute. The machine has a filling accuracy of +/- 1%, depending on powder at controlled humidity below 30% Rh. There is also a provision of rubber stoppering machine in the automatic powder filling machine that makes sure that there is no spillage of powders once it is filled in the container. A more advanced form of this machine is the Double Head Injectable Powder Filling with Rubber Stoppering Machine, which has a maximum speed of attending 250 vials per minute. The machine parts that come in contact with powders are made up of SS316 material. It is incorporated with a double head double track eight port twin powder wheel, which works in the vacuum and air systems to fill powder in vial. It also comprises of on-line vibrator type rubber stoppering system.

Some of the other powder filling machines supplied are Injectable Powder Filling with Rubber Stoppering Machine, High-Speed Powder Filling with Rubber Stoppering Machine, Rotary Dry Syrup Powder Filling and Rubber Stoppering Machine, Double Head High-Speed Injectable Powder Filling Rubber Stoppering Machine, Single Auger Powder Filling Machine, & Semi-Automatic Injectable Powder Filling Machine.

Cap Sealing Machine:

The Cap Sealing Machine plays a pivotal role as a part of packaging machinery since it helps to seal the containers and prevent them from getting contaminated. The Automatic Single Head Vial Cap Sealing Machine has a mild steel frame structure with stainless steel cladding/ Enclosures. It comes with a vibratory bowl feeder for feeding the cap continuously during the online operation on any liquid of powder filling line. It is highly preferred for use in pharmaceutical industries having lower production requirement with automatic online operation.

Automatic Eight Head Rotary Vial Capping Machine is highly felicitous to use for round vials having a maximum speed of 240 vials per minute. The speed of the machine depends upon the vial diameter, vial height, and cap size. Automatic Six Head Bottle ROPP Capping Machine, on the other hand, allows round or other shape of Glass, Plastic, PET, LDPE, and HDPE Bottles. It has the capacity of attending up to 120 bottles per minute depending on Bottle Diameter, Bottle Height, Bottle Shape, and Cap Size.

Sticker Labeling Machine:

The sticker labeling machine is used to wrap labels around the container in order to display necessary information about the product and brand information. An automatic ampoule sticker labelling machine is probably one of the most user-friendly machines that anybody will ever come across. It is incorporated with modern Micro Processor Control Label Dispensing system with user-friendly Sensing system for Label and Product. The ampoule sticker labelling machine can label up to 200 units per minute, depending upon the label & product size.

Another type of automatic ampoule sticker labeling machine is a high-speed vertical ampoule sticker labeling machine. The machine saves a lot of time in its operation and requires no maintenance. It is suitable for partial, full wrap around, & overlap labelling and has a full stainless steel finish. Some of the types of sticker labeling machines that we offer are Automatic sticker labeling machine, Automatic vial sticker labeling machine, automatic single & double side flat bottle sticker labeling machine, High-speed ampoule vial sticker labeling machine, automatic horizontal sticker labeling machine, etc.

Packaging Machine:

The packing machine is used for packaging the products and help to store them in bulk. PVC ALU Blister Packing Machine is one such type of packaging machine that is used for packaging of the tablets, capsules in a blister pack. This world-class machine provides assurance of reliability & performance and is highly cost-effective as well. Automatic Strip Packing Machine is tweaked with all the modern technology and is known for providing high speed and uninterrupted performance at low maintenance cost. The machine is developed according to GMP standards and it ensures durability and improved performance.

Process Equipment:

The process equipment includes ointment cream/oral liquid/shampoo manufacturing plant, pharmaceutical process vessels, horizontal plate type/zero hold up filter press, and ointment mixing vessel. The ointment manufacturing plant has a high sanitary standard design. It has a high standard automation system and is comprised of hydro lift top covers. The pharmaceutical process vessel like a pressure vessel follows the ASME design with cGMP and/or ASME BPE standards. Typical equipment includes Storage tanks for purified water & WFI, Buffer tanks, Hold tanks, Pressurized vessel for solvents / sterile products, Agitated pressure vessels for various applications, and Reaction vessels.

Summary: Packaging machines play an important role in industries and perform the operation with high accuracy. Powder filling machine is used to fill the containers with the respective content in the form of powder. A Cap sealing machine is used to seal the containers by placing the cap around the neck of containers in order to make sure that the product is free from any adulterations. Sticker labeling machine is used to wrap the container with the labels in order to display product information. Packing machine is used for packaging these labeled containers and store & transport them in bulk. Pharmaceutical process equipment is manufactured to maintain all the design and safety standards as they are used in numerous applications.

The Bottom Line: Lodha International LLP, since its inception in 2008, has always delivered on its promise of supplying quality products. Our company follows stringent quality control methods to ensure that the machines developed does not possess any technical issues during its run. The technical division always works diligently in order to improve the efficiency of the machine.

[paper1125]

Complete Detergent Production Line

The Detergent Complete Production Line that SIEHE Industry design and manufacture is the professional equipment for production of daily chemical liquid product such as dish washing detergent, laundry detergent, softener,etc.. The production line consist of these parts: pre-mixing kettle, homogeneous emulsion kettle, weighing system, finished product mixing kettle, storage tank, heating system, cooling system, vacuum system, conveying system, filtration system, filling system, control system, etc; Automatic production process reduce work intensity of the operator and avoid the quality problem caused by human factors, so it greatly improve the product quality and production efficiency.

Product Advantages

Excellent environmental protection index, safe operation

The emulsifying process of the main tank was conducted under the condition of whole sealing, which prevent the pollution of the dust and microorganism, the material in the water tank, oil tank and powder tank(optional) added into the main emulsifying tank through the way of vacuum feeding, the discharge is achieved by main tank pressure or pump conveying.

Multiple functions , full mixing

The main tank can be heating or cooling; Main boiler is equipped with low-middle speed agitator and high shear homogeneous emulsification device, they can be used both separately or together; The dispersing,homogeneous, emulsion, and mixing of materials can be finished in a short period of time.

Real-time monitoring, safe operation

The main kettle has sight glass with lamp,so it can observe the conditions of the kettle at any time.The whole structure is three jacket, the heating and cooling can be finished in the same jacket;The outer of the jacket has aluminum silicate insulation layer,which can prevent the operator burns, and ensure production safety.

Health level, in line with GMP

Production line and material contacting parts adopt high quality of 304 or SUS316L stainless steel, the inner surface mirror polishing processing, vacuum mixing device health and clean, and manufactured in accordance with GMP hygiene standards.

Intelligent production, which is stable and reliable

Main kettle can increase the weighing system or raw material feeding with flow meter, it can realize automatic feeding the raw materials; The touch screen, industrial control machine and PLC all adopt international famous brand, which can be programmable control and achieve industrial intelligent.

Working Principle

Homogeneous emulsifying kettle is made up by high shear homogeneous emulsifier and mid-low speed agitator; The material in the function of centrifugal and the hydraulic force produced by the high speed rotating rotor and stator of the homogeneous kettle, is strongly shearing, centrifugal extrusion, impact fracture, fluid friction and layer turbulence, uniform fine, dispersing and emulsion in an instant; At the same time, the low-mid speed agitator fully mixing and recycling the material,it increases the production efficiency and product uniformity. The common combinations include: Multi-Layer Paddle Agitator +Bottom Type High Shear Emulsifier, Anchor Agitator +Offset Type High Shear Emulsifier,Two-way Positive & Negative Agitator + Center High Shear Emulsifier; Some products can be equipped with In-line High Shear Emulsifier according to the production process requirement to improve the product fineness and production efficiency.

Mixing Kettle generally adopts two-way low-speed mixing, frame type scraper mixing, and paddle mixing, the scraper agitator produce centrifugal effect during operation make teflon scraper closely to the kettle wall, it effectively solve the problem with residue of material on the wall, no dead Angle. In different detergent production process, homogeneous emulsifying kettle and mixing kettle can be designed separately, two working procedure, or can also be uni-body design, to complete all the process in one kettle.

[printingproducts0318]

Complete Detergent Production Line

The Detergent Complete Production Line that SIEHE Industry design and manufacture is the professional equipment for production of daily chemical liquid product such as dish washing detergent, laundry detergent, softener,etc.. The production line consist of these parts: pre-mixing kettle, homogeneous emulsion kettle, weighing system, finished product mixing kettle, storage tank, heating system, cooling system, vacuum system, conveying system, filtration system, filling system, control system, etc; Automatic production process reduce work intensity of the operator and avoid the quality problem caused by human factors, so it greatly improve the product quality and production efficiency.

Product Advantages

Excellent environmental protection index, safe operation

The emulsifying process of the main tank was conducted under the condition of whole sealing, which prevent the pollution of the dust and microorganism, the material in the water tank, oil tank and powder tank(optional) added into the main emulsifying tank through the way of vacuum feeding, the discharge is achieved by main tank pressure or pump conveying.

Multiple functions , full mixing

The main tank can be heating or cooling; Main boiler is equipped with low-middle speed agitator and high shear homogeneous emulsification device, they can be used both separately or together; The dispersing,homogeneous, emulsion, and mixing of materials can be finished in a short period of time.

Real-time monitoring, safe operation

The main kettle has sight glass with lamp,so it can observe the conditions of the kettle at any time.The whole structure is three jacket, the heating and cooling can be finished in the same jacket;The outer of the jacket has aluminum silicate insulation layer,which can prevent the operator burns, and ensure production safety.

Health level, in line with GMP

Production line and material contacting parts adopt high quality of 304 or SUS316L stainless steel, the inner surface mirror polishing processing, vacuum mixing device health and clean, and manufactured in accordance with GMP hygiene standards.

Intelligent production, which is stable and reliable

Main kettle can increase the weighing system or raw material feeding with flow meter, it can realize automatic feeding the raw materials; The touch screen, industrial control machine and PLC all adopt international famous brand, which can be programmable control and achieve industrial intelligent.

Working Principle

Homogeneous emulsifying kettle is made up by high shear homogeneous emulsifier and mid-low speed agitator; The material in the function of centrifugal and the hydraulic force produced by the high speed rotating rotor and stator of the homogeneous kettle, is strongly shearing, centrifugal extrusion, impact fracture, fluid friction and layer turbulence, uniform fine, dispersing and emulsion in an instant; At the same time, the low-mid speed agitator fully mixing and recycling the material,it increases the production efficiency and product uniformity. The common combinations include: Multi-Layer Paddle Agitator +Bottom Type High Shear Emulsifier, Anchor Agitator +Offset Type High Shear Emulsifier,Two-way Positive & Negative Agitator + Center High Shear Emulsifier; Some products can be equipped with In-line High Shear Emulsifier according to the production process requirement to improve the product fineness and production efficiency.

Mixing Kettle generally adopts two-way low-speed mixing, frame type scraper mixing, and paddle mixing, the scraper agitator produce centrifugal effect during operation make teflon scraper closely to the kettle wall, it effectively solve the problem with residue of material on the wall, no dead Angle. In different detergent production process, homogeneous emulsifying kettle and mixing kettle can be designed separately, two working procedure, or can also be uni-body design, to complete all the process in one kettle.

[ablazeglassworks]

What is a Batch Reactor?

The phrase "batch reactor" refers to a type of vessel that is commonly employed in the process industry. Its name is a misnomer because these containers are utilised for a wide range of processes, including solids dissolving, product mixing, chemical reactions, batch distillation, crystallisation, liquid/liquid extraction, and polymerization. They aren't always called reactors; instead, they have a name that represents the function they play.

A batch reactor consists of a storage tank, an agitator and a heat/cool built-in system. The size of these vessels can range from less than 1 litre to over 15,000 litres. Steel, stainless steel, glass-lined steel, glass, or exotic alloys are commonly used. Connections in the reactor's top cover are typically used to charge liquids and solids. Vapours and gases can also escape through the top connections. Typically, liquids are ejected from the bottom.

Ablaze Glass Works is an excellent and the most recognised Batch reactor manufacturer in India.

A centrally positioned driveshaft with an overhead drive unit is the most common agitator configuration. The shaft is where the impeller blades are mounted. Blades come in a range of shapes and sizes and typically cover roughly two-thirds of the reactor's diameter. Anchor-shaped paddles with a narrow clearance between the blade and the vessel walls are frequently employed while handling viscous goods.

Baffles are also used in most batch reactors. The rotating agitator causes the flow to be broken up by these stationary blades. These can be put on the inside of the side walls or attached to the vessel's cover.

If you are looking for the most remarkable as well as noted Glass valves manufacturer in Vadodara, Ablaze Glass Works is the name you can count on.

Despite substantial advancements in agitator blade and baffle design, the amount of energy available to mix in big batch reactors is ultimately limited. Mixing energies of more than 5 Watts per litre in large vessels can impose an undue strain on the cooling system. Shaft stability issues can also be caused by high agitator loads. When mixing is important, a batch reactor isn't the best option. Smaller flowing systems with high-speed agitators, ultrasonic mixing, or static mixers can reach much higher mixing rates.

Even the process of churning liquids that have been stored releases heat. Heat must be provided or removed by a cooling jacket or cooling pipe to keep the reactor contents at the proper temperature. To add or remove heat, heat transfer fluid goes through the jacket or coils.

Ablaze Glass Works is one of the most trusted and reputed Structured packing manufacturers in India.

The heat transmission coefficient, it may be argued, is also an essential parameter. Large batch reactors with external cooling jackets, on the other hand, have substantial heat transmission constraints due to their design. Continuous reactors, on the other hand, may produce cooling capabilities of up to 10,000 W/litre.

For crystallisation procedures or activities where the product or process is temperature-sensitive, quick temperature control responsiveness and uniform jacket heating and cooling are critical.

[littlecat0520]

Complete Detergent Production Line

The Detergent Complete Production Line that SIEHE Industry design and manufacture is the professional equipment for production of daily chemical liquid product such as dish washing detergent, laundry detergent, softener,etc.. The production line consist of these parts: pre-mixing kettle, homogeneous emulsion kettle, weighing system, finished product mixing kettle, storage tank, heating system, cooling system, vacuum system, conveying system, filtration system, filling system, control system, etc; Automatic production process reduce work intensity of the operator and avoid the quality problem caused by human factors, so it greatly improve the product quality and production efficiency.

Product Advantages

Excellent environmental protection index, safe operation

The emulsifying process of the main tank was conducted under the condition of whole sealing, which prevent the pollution of the dust and microorganism, the material in the water tank, oil tank and powder tank(optional) added into the main emulsifying tank through the way of vacuum feeding, the discharge is achieved by main tank pressure or pump conveying.

Multiple functions , full mixing

The main tank can be heating or cooling; Main boiler is equipped with low-middle speed agitator and high shear homogeneous emulsification device, they can be used both separately or together; The dispersing,homogeneous, emulsion, and mixing of materials can be finished in a short period of time.

Real-time monitoring, safe operation

The main kettle has sight glass with lamp,so it can observe the conditions of the kettle at any time.The whole structure is three jacket, the heating and cooling can be finished in the same jacket;The outer of the jacket has aluminum silicate insulation layer,which can prevent the operator burns, and ensure production safety.

Health level, in line with GMP

Production line and material contacting parts adopt high quality of 304 or SUS316L stainless steel, the inner surface mirror polishing processing, vacuum mixing device health and clean, and manufactured in accordance with GMP hygiene standards.

Intelligent production, which is stable and reliable

Main kettle can increase the weighing system or raw material feeding with flow meter, it can realize automatic feeding the raw materials; The touch screen, industrial control machine and PLC all adopt international famous brand, which can be programmable control and achieve industrial intelligent.

Working Principle

Homogeneous emulsifying kettle is made up by high shear homogeneous emulsifier and mid-low speed agitator; The material in the function of centrifugal and the hydraulic force produced by the high speed rotating rotor and stator of the homogeneous kettle, is strongly shearing, centrifugal extrusion, impact fracture, fluid friction and layer turbulence, uniform fine, dispersing and emulsion in an instant; At the same time, the low-mid speed agitator fully mixing and recycling the material,it increases the production efficiency and product uniformity. The common combinations include: Multi-Layer Paddle Agitator +Bottom Type High Shear Emulsifier, Anchor Agitator +Offset Type High Shear Emulsifier,Two-way Positive & Negative Agitator + Center High Shear Emulsifier; Some products can be equipped with In-line High Shear Emulsifier according to the production process requirement to improve the product fineness and production efficiency.

Mixing Kettle generally adopts two-way low-speed mixing, frame type scraper mixing, and paddle mixing, the scraper agitator produce centrifugal effect during operation make teflon scraper closely to the kettle wall, it effectively solve the problem with residue of material on the wall, no dead Angle. In different detergent production process, homogeneous emulsifying kettle and mixing kettle can be designed separately, two working procedure, or can also be uni-body design, to complete all the process in one kettle.