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cuttoothed · 5 years ago

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For the kissing prompt meme: jonmartin + in the rain

Guess who listened to the S5 trailer and is already thinking of soft fix-it scenarios???

SPOILERS FOR THE SEASON FIVE TRAILER BELOW. ALSO SOFTNESS.

All his life, Jon believed that the anticipation of something bad is worse than the thing itself. Waiting for it, fearing it, the mind can conjure all sorts of terrible, inescapable outcomes. But once the thing happens, it can be dealt with. Even if it’s the worst possible scenario, it’s happened; it’s done, and you can begin to move on.

He can’t believe he was ever so ignorant.

He’s spent years fearing this - the Unknowing, the Dark Sun, all those failed rituals that threatened to swallow the world in terror. And now that it’s finally happened? It’s worse than anything he could possibly have imagined, a sweet, agonizing symphony of fear and pain and knowing and knowing and knowing and KNOWING and what he knows most clearly of all is that this is it. There is no moving on, no new normal: things will be precisely this bad forever.

The world is changed; it will not change again.

There’s no weather anymore. No sun but the vast eye staring lidless down at them; no wind but the howling of a million savage throats; no hail or snow or miserable autumn drizzle that soaks in through the soles of your shoes and leaves you damp all day. Jon had been complaining about the rain, the day the world changed. Hadn’t wanted to go out for a walk with Martin in the morning, which was why Martin had gone himself when he got back from the village, leaving Jon to his statements. He’d give anything for some rain now, for any semblance of the normal world back.

Martin’s doing his best, and Jon loves him so fiercely it aches in his chest. He thinks that loving Martin might be the only thing that keeps him holding on, sometimes; keeps him from giving up and giving in to the horrifying rightness of it all. Martin keeps talking as if they can make it through this, as if there’s some way out at the end of it all.

“How are you feeling today?” he asks, as if there’s such a thing as a day anymore.

“We need to decide what to do,” he says, as if there’s anything they can. He folds out a big road map of the UK on the kitchen table and starts plotting a route to London in red ink, along the back roads and away from major towns. The fears - their manifestations - might be more concentrated in densely populated areas, he suggests. Jon thinks of the tiny village that once stood in the valley below them, and doesn’t voice his doubts.

Neither of them have been outside since it happened, but Jon knows what’s out there (and knows and knows); he doesn’t think they’d get very far.

“We’re safer here,” Jon insists. They have enough dried and tinned supplies to last them weeks, as if Daisy was ready for the end of the world herself. Nothing’s attacked them here, not yet. And they’re together. They haven’t had enough time together, not nearly enough.

“We can’t just stay here waiting to die!” Martin snaps.

“We might as well do it here as anywhere else!” Jon snaps back, and then it turns into their first real fight since the world changed - their first real fight in years, in fact, since the days when Jon was nitpicking Martin’s Latin and Martin was lecturing him about spiders.

“I’m not letting you just - just bloody give up!” Martin is almost shouting by the end, his voice hoarse and hurt. “You didn’t let me, so you don’t get to now, okay?”

He storms out and slams the door behind him, and Jon sits there quietly for a long time, turning over the cold, heavy weight in his stomach, examining it from all angles. Outside he can hear the howling, screaming cacophony, endless and terrible and glorious and god he wishes it would rain.

He finds Martin in the bedroom, sitting on the bed, staring at his hands. Jon goes and sits beside him, their shoulders pressed together, and feels the tension thrumming through Martin’s body as if he’s ready for another fight. Martin’s hands clench on his thighs.

“I’m sorry,” Jon says. “You’re right, we can’t give up. If we can get to London, find Basira and - and the others, maybe we can...I don’t know. But you’re right, we need to try.”

He needs to try, because he owes Martin that. He owes Basira and Georgie and, god, poor Melanie who fought so hard to free herself from all this. He owes Daisy, if there’s anything of her left in this changed, unchanging world. The worst has happened, and Jon is so, so afraid of what comes next, but he can’t let that fear own him. He’s done with that.

“I love you,” Martin tells him, a simple statement of fact, and Jon knows it. Not like he knows all the rest of it, all the pain and terror of this world. He just knows.

Whatever happens, at least they’ll be together.

Jon dreams of rain. Or rather, it rains in Jon’s dreams: a torrent, a downpour. It drums against the metal lab benches, soaks the doctor’s lab coat, washes away the blood from those obscenely beating hearts. It smears across the woman’s computer screen, making it impossible to read the scrolling lines of text, running into her eyes as she types desperately. It taps on the yellow door and turns the dirt to flowing mud and carries away legions of ants, legs and antennae waving frantically in the flood.

He turns his face to the sky, and he cannot see through the sheets of water tumbling down. For a moment, he cannot see the Eye.

“Jon!” Martin is whispering urgently, his hand on Jon’s shoulder, shaking him gently. Jon sits bolt upright, his heart racing.

“What is it?”

“It’s, ahh...I - I think it’s raining?” Martin’s tone is equal parts disbelief and wonder. Jon’s breath catches and for an instant he wonders if he’s still dreaming, but no, there it is, the sound of rain hitting the roof tiles overhead.

“What the hell?” he mutters, and goes to look. It’s still dark out, but he can see the drops striking the window, running down the glass in quick little rivulets. Martin comes up beside him.

“This shouldn’t be possible, right?” he says, excited. “You said, with the way things are, it shouldn’t be - ”

Jon kisses him. Martin makes a muffled sound against his mouth, and then his arms go around Jon and he kisses back with enthusiasm. When they part, Jon keeps hold of Martin’s shoulders, clutching him, breathless and almost laughing.

“I had a dream, Martin,” he says. “About the rain.”

“You...had a dream?” Martin’s eyes go to the dark window, spattered with rain, and then back to Jon, wide. “You mean, you made this happen?”

“I - I don’t know. I might have just anticipated it? Some sort of - of sympathetic psychic connection, maybe? But...maybe?”

“Maybe,” Martin repeats. “So maybe...things can change after all.”

“I mean, yes? Perhaps?”

Jon’s trying not to get too excited about it, because he’s still not sure exactly what happened, it might be nothing at all. But he was thinking about the rain, and then Martin talked sense into him, made him realize he needed to do something, and then all this...it seems like rather a wild coincidence. He brought this world into being, after all, and he knows it so intimately; it makes a sort of sense that he would have some influence. The nightmare logic these fears are so fond of.

But if he can, then maybe...maybe there’s something to be done after all.

“So,” Martin says, grinning at him, “Is it just the rain, or can you do other kinds of weather too? Bit of sunshine wouldn’t go amiss, if you’re taking requests.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Jon says, and they’re both laughing now, giddy with something that feels a lot like hope, while outside the rain keeps falling.

#the magnus archives #tma #tma spoilers #jonmartin #my fic #writing prompts

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wecladlondon-blog · 6 years ago

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clever-shield-coatings-uk · 4 years ago

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spmcomic · 4 years ago

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Theia and Gaia

Cover

Chapter 1: (part 1 | part 2) Chapter 2: (part 1 | part 2)

Chapter 3: (part 1 | part 2) Chapter 4: (part 1 | part 2)

“We’re here,” the taller one’s voice cut into the space, drawing the voices back. “The Robot Processing Center.” It gestured with its horrible little hand at the building that jutted from the cliff side, blocking the walkway. A wide, tall entrance led into the side of the structure, and the voices saw more porcelain bodies moving inside. The space turned its head. The upper levels of the walkway similarly led straight into the side of the building, but at the bottom level a wide, flat plaza in front of the structure swarmed with the robed creatures.

The inside of the building was more complex than anything the voices had seen before. It looked much smaller than the outside, with a ceiling only a few body lengths above the space. But then, as the eyes adjusted, the voices saw that the room was actually much larger than the building’s walls suggested. It must have been carved deep into the stone of the cliff. In the distance, they could just make out entrances to tunnels, lit by fires that did not flicker or smoke. The various porcelain creatures cast long, wavering shadows across the plain flooring and the irregular walls as they milled about.

Over there- what’s that- one of the monsters waited by a small, transparent chamber, as a platform lowered to the ground from a hole in the ceiling. Of course- multiple layers- what a great idea- how do they stop it from caving in-

The floor in here provided unexpected relief. The fork-legs had some traction, the wrist protrusions felt just a little give to the floor. Finally, the space could walk confidently. The taller one glanced anxiously at the space, as they led it across the floor to the lifting chamber.

When the chamber arrived, the two figures pushed the space inside, the taller one holding up its stone the whole way. The voices eyed its white-knuckled grip against the piece of metal, and then the passing floors as the lift continued its journey. They came to the agreement that they must be climbing to the top of the structure. But then the chamber stopped, and opened. The figures herded the space through the opening, and behind them the lift continued upward out of view.

“Head Merletaph!” The taller one called, spreading its arms to reveal more bald, corpse-like skin. “We have a surviving Lazarus.”

The creature in the room, Head Merletaph, sat with one leg folded over the other in an odd-looking chair. Its shroud was much less cumbersome, a poncho down to the hips, with golden embroidery and a secure hood fully hiding its face from view. The voices whispered incoherently, unable to agree on the title- the Warlord- the Den Parent- the Captain-

The leader hardly glanced up from its thin, wide sheet before settling back down, resting an elbow on the table next to it. “Oh. Good work.” It shuffled the sheet with thin, skeletal fingers. “Run along, now. Get to the next one.”

“But sir-” the shorter one began, holding out its slate.

The leader stopped it with a sharp, yellow-eyed glare. The two figures shuffled, the shorter one placed the slate on the table, and they left. The space turned to follow.

“You. You stay.” The leader merely lifted a finger and the space felt itself turned back toward the room, frozen in place. They sat like that for what felt like hours, the voices quivering, the leader turning the folds of its sheet occasionally.

The freedom of the sea. Kai swung expertly through the ropes and wood of the rigging, tugging here and there at the sails, perking their ears up to test the wind. They would rarely pause, perched against the mast, only happy with their feet in the air. Their nails dug into the wood as they shielded their eyes from the sun, gazing at the clouds on the horizon. The wind would change direction, soon.

“Well?” The leader interrupted, before the name could find its voice. The leader leveled its flat gaze at the space.

The voices could only flick their eyes to the side, noting the far wall of the chasm through the window, and back to the leader.

“Are you going to talk,” the leader spat, leaning forward in its chair. The voices churned. This body could speak?

The leader set the sheet aside on the table and stood, smoothing out its poncho. “Very well. We’ll do this the hard way.”

In an instant, the leader jumped forward, and thrust its palm into the base of the space’s neck. The voices scattered, the legs shuddered, and the space fell to the floor. Disconnected half-whispers drifted haphazardly into each other, unable to coordinate.

The leader kicked the space’s neck, and the jagged voices cried out.

“I am going to do this,” it said, punctuating each word with a kick, “until you tell me to stop.”

The voices tried to wheeze and struggle, but the space did not need to breathe, and each of the voices thrashed out at different limbs, moving none of them. They scrambled into each other, then scattered again at the next kick.

The old man sat on his throne, his paws clenched against the scepter of gator bone, ruminating. His beady eyes looked over his army down the hill as they labored to build a hasty wall in the face of the oncoming storm. Across the field, he could see the tiny specks of his opponent digging their own burrows. Their insistence on staying underground would be their demise. Bryagh showed all his teeth in a maniacal grin. Yes, while the waters poured… His soldiers could bury their air holes.

“Stop.” The mechanical voice grated, startling twenty-nine voices. Then the mechanical voice groaned with the rest of them, escalating into an anguished howl. This voice was wrong, unnatural- like the hammer against the anvil, missing the weapon- like the call of the eagle about to strike-

The leader turned and strode back to the table, picking up the slate to examine it. It snorted and tossed it back down. “They’re all troublemakers. Fine.”

It waved its hand dismissively. “Pick yourself up and go. From the top of this building, climb straight up the wall. The trolley operators there will give you your assignment.”

The voices struggled upright. It felt as though the joints in the fork-legs creaked with the effort. All the voices could focus on was that wrenching sound squealing from the head as they instinctively panted. The knife-fingers flexed, but with only a glance back at the space, the leader sent a shudder through the body. The voices found themselves picking their way out of the room and into the chamber with the lift. They found an opening to the cliff side, a window, and dug their wrist protrusion into the stone. The sharp point of the limb dug in firmly, and the fork-legs had little trouble jabbing into the smallest footholds. The space was halfway up the cliff side before the voices could catch up to reality. There they paused.

Back down in the ravine, a bright light shone from one of the buildings. The voices recognized this one- the chamber they had first emerged from. The light flickered like a flame in a storm- like the candle at the end of the wick- like fanning wood embers- through the windows. A rising shriek echoed out of the chamber, followed by shattering glass. Then, silence. Below, on the walkways, some of the porcelain creatures paused. Some bowed their heads. Others simply continued their business.

The space had no direction to go but upward. But it only took one step up the wall before it stopped. A violent shudder ran down its joints and up its neck.

“I won’t!” The old man thrashed on his deathbed. “I can’t! Not after everything else! A little cold can’t kill me!”

His attendants sat outside the room. He could hear them, between labored breaths. Perhaps they were waiting to clamor for his position the moment he died. But Bryagh knew from watching so many others- they would never last as long as he.

None had survived the Plague before. But he could survive. He had always survived. He would survive! He would survive…

A violent-

Neima dropped her trumpet, a dizzying weakness wracking her body. The instrument hit the floor with a clang, and a jangle as a piece broke off. She didn’t see which one, doubled over on the bed, bloody drool dripping down her chin. This was the end, it had to be… She pawed desperately at the quill on the end table. Had to get that last song down… She’d ink it in her own blood if she had to…

There was a-

There was a sudden weakness in Kai’s wrists and fingers, and their grip slipped- they fell through the air- hit the water’s surface-

The space froze, rigid-

Divya stumbled, listing hard to the side. She rested a paw on the shallow wall, the only thing that stopped her from tumbling right off the roof.

“Div!” Her brother called. His voice seemed so distant now, even though he was right next to her, holding her under the arms. He brushed damp fur out of her eyes. “I-I’ll get the Den Mother, she’ll know…”

She closed her eyes. “It’s okay, Udom. It’s okay. Just sit with me…”

The space-

Deven tightened his icy grip on his spear, hands trembling in his weakness. Outnumbered and out-supplied, his fellow guards shivered as they watched the invaders bear down on the little stronghold. It was time to move. He hopped up into position, spear at the ready- but the enemy had already climbed the wall- his sluggish feet couldn’t get traction enough to jump away-

Stop-

The eagles shrieked, somewhere not too far behind. They would take the slowest runner. The little party’s leader was slow and frail, but she held the key to their quest’s victory. Ishani knew her own days were numbered as she wheezed and struggled just behind the group. Well… They needed their leader. Ishani stumbled to a stop as her friends continued bounding through the canyon, and closed her eyes.

Enough-

Uk’s only comfort was their companion, stroking their fur gently as they struggled to breathe. But the air seemed to grow thinner, and farther away, no matter how desperate the pleas…

Lazarus screamed a mechanical grinding squeal as its wrists lost their grip on the stone and its full weight pushed into its thin hind legs for support. It backpedaled down the wall a few steps before driving the blades back into the stone and stopping itself with a harsh crackle of old rocks coming loose. This was… This was…

The voices moaned and howled together. They had died! They had been murdered- had had their lives stolen by these- by these-

Kill them! One voice roared above the others.

Yes, yes! Twenty-nine others replied as one. Go back!

Rocks scattered across the roof of the building as Lazarus tore back down through the window. But the leader was already gone. It swung its head back and forth- there- the lift- the leader can’t have gotten far-

It wrenched open the lift doors with an echoing clang. These creatures’ insistence on giving it knives for arms and legs would be their undoing. Inside the lift, Lazarus scrabbled at the hard, smooth walls- no give. But these legs were long if not sturdy. The voices pushed as one, and two legs struck the wall, piercing the stone just enough for purchase. They descended. The voices clamored as they approached the next floor down. They would search every layer of this structure- the leader could not hide for long.

Another creature under a bright, heavy cloth called out and ran toward Lazarus, holding up one of those metal shards. Lazarus’ eyes flicked toward the device, and it snapped its wrist out- like a blade- like a spear- and skewered the creature’s pale, fleshy arm. It wailed, and Lazarus used its free arm to shove the creature aside. More jogged in from the open hall doors. But this body was large, and heavy, and broad. The voices charged forward together, bowling over the smaller creatures in their path. The legs skittered against the hard, unyielding hallway floor.

This body was too bulky to sense vibrations in the ground. No matter. Let the creatures give chase. They would rue the day they challenged Bryagh- Deven- Ezra- Neima- Exene- Amaru-

An open window. A ramp. Lazarus climbed through, folding its legs farther than any animal should be able to, and crawled along the wall of the building. The outside of the structure was built from the same stone as the ravine wall; its fork-legs clung easily to the surface. It found a lower window and slid into a cramped hallway, with walls the color and consistency of the blades Timur spent so much time crafting. A hard clang rung out into the darkness with every step Lazarus took. It could tell from the whirring and humming, like a giant beast slumbering within the ravine wall, that this floor was important. Even if it could not find the leader, Lazarus would find what they were hiding here and break it.

The voices began their charge across the floor, but a leg became suddenly unresponsive. Lazarus turned back. The floor, there were tiny holes, the toes of the knife-legs had gotten caught. It planted its wrist blades between the holes and yanked its foot free, only to trap the next leg. The voices chittered in frustration, their rage escaping as a grinding growl. This floor was thinner and flimsier, and Lazarus could already hear footsteps a few yards away. It had to hurry. It danced across the floor, stumbling every few steps as its legs stuck, until it reached more solid ground.

There it is, the leader’s bright poncho decorated in silver, standing across a platform of the holed flooring. It seemed a little different than before, but none of the voices cared enough to waste time examining it. Lazarus bent its legs and launched itself as far across the room as it could.

But the body was heavy, and the legs thin. Lazarus only hopped a short distance, landed on the flooring, and staggered. The leader turned around, its silver eyes wide, and stumbled back against the wall. Lazarus tripped and crashed to the floor.

The leader effortlessly raised its hand, and the voices found themselves scrambling, unable to coordinate or move the body.

“Finished with your temper tantrum?” The leader asked, high and cold. A different voice than before. Two leaders?

“I think that one’s another Warlord Bryagh,” a distant voice echoed across the room. The voices spun, trying to turn the head, to find the source. Was there someone else here? This voice sounded jarringly familiar.

The leader snorted. “Probably at least one other soldier in there, too. Put a hole in the poor kid upstairs. But they just finished you, didn’t they? You’re a coordinated little concoction.”

The voices struggled, but the arms and legs, the neck, the eyes, remained unresponsive.

“Looks like it caused some damage to a windowsill upstairs, but not much else. You’re not… are you?”

“We have to, Sentry. Merletaph would kill me if I didn’t. Especially with a Bryagh shard, you know how much of a headache that guy’s been over in Mulu. Ping the boys over at Reconditioning and get…” The leader paused, contemplating its fingers. “Sisyphus, to carry this one out. Don’t want those legs and blades causing any trouble.”

“… Right away, Head Merlock.”

The voices buzzed, trapped in an unmoving pile of rocks. What was that voice? Lazarus needed to see- needed to meet- to figure out-

Something lifted its body from behind and half-dragged it out of the room and down endless corridors, leaving the voices reeling. The shrouded creatures stepped aside, watching the body and its prison keeper pass.

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#spm #super paper mario #paper mario #pixls #theia and gaia #cw death

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sheetmetalwork · 6 months ago

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V and F Sheet Metal, established in 1985, has grown significantly from its humble beginnings. Founded by Victor and Frances Frith, the company started operations in the family garage. Victor's extensive experience in press work and press tooling laid a strong foundation for the company. Initially, V and F Sheet Metal focused on one-off sheet metal projects using basic manual equipment like treadle guillotines, fly presses, and pillar drills.

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#sheet metal work #manufacturing #sheet metal manufacturing #sheet metal fabrication

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fastroofinguk · 4 months ago

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A Guide to Choosing the Ideal Roof Metal Sheets for Roofing

Metal roofs are widely used for both residential and commercial buildings around the UK owing to their durability, longevity, easy maintenance, eco-friendliness, and lightweight nature.

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itcars · 5 years ago

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First Look: The Aston Martin DBX

A bold new chapter and a landmark moment in Aston Martin’s illustrious 106-year history, Aston Martin has today unveiled its first SUV and a model that will propel the brand to new heights worldwide. That model, is DBX.

The culmination of an extensive development program that began with physical testing in Wales last year and virtual development stretching back to 2015, DBX signals a new era in Aston Martin’s pursuit to deliver exceptional performance, style and usability in a segment previously unexplored by the world-famous manufacturer. Bringing both the versatility and indulgence expected of a luxury SUV with sports car levels of dynamic performance, DBX sets a bold new standard in this sector.

Set to be built in Aston Martin’s purpose-built manufacturing facility in St Athan, Wales, the foundation of DBX is a new dedicated SUV platform, something rarely seen across the sector. More than ever before, this clean sheet of paper has allowed all departments within Aston Martin to innovate and push the boundaries of what British design and engineering can create, resulting in a truly remarkable product.

Utilizing bonded aluminium, a construction method Aston Martin has refined through the development of its sports cars, the body structure is both very light and incredibly stiff, assisting in the delivery of an overall curb weight of 2,245kg. Right from its genesis, it was designed to allow maximum room in the cabin, putting a premium on refinement and class leading spaciousness for both front and rear occupants. Meanwhile, the exceptional stiffness inherent in the design of the new platform has also enabled DBX to achieve exceptional dynamics both on and off-road.

Powered by a new version of the characterful 4-liter, twin-turbocharged V8 engine found in DB11 and Vantage, DBX features an impressive output of 550PS and 700NM of torque, carefully tuned to meet the specific needs of this model. With a sound character that is unquestionably Aston Martin, the active exhaust system ensures this is a luxury SUV that can sound refined one moment and exhilarating the next. The engine’s versatility isn’t restricted to its vocals either; the turbocharged V8 has cylinder deactivation to enhance fuel economy, yet it can also propel DBX from 0 to 62mph in 4.5 seconds and on to a top speed of 181mph.

Aston Martin’s first ever full-size 5-seat model is not only exceptionally versatile in terms of the terrain that it can tackle, it is also extremely adaptable to a wide variety of lifestyle needs and owners. Designed to accommodate the world’s 99th percentile male and 5th percentile female, DBX has been very deliberately created with instant familiarity and ease of use from the start.

With 632 liters of boot space and 40:20:40 split folding rear seats DBX possesses all the flexible load capacity expected of an SUV with class-leading interior space. The load space offers a practical and cleanly designed space. A narrow load sill and broad aperture maximizes the practicality for a variety of luggage, such as suitcases, golf bags and ski equipment.

The luxuriously handcrafted interior of DBX has been designed to provide equal space and comfort whether sitting in the front or rear of the car. Class-leading headroom and legroom combines with a full-length glass panoramic roof and frameless door glass to offer a fantastically light and spacious cabin environment. The use of sports car seat packaging in the front not only provides the driver with exceptional support and long-distance driving comfort, but also provides knee and footwell clearance for those sitting behind.

Small touches throughout, including separate central armrests, glovebox design and the ergonomic positioning of the car’s key control systems, have been guided carefully by the input of the brand’s Female Advisory Board, dealership feedback and a variety of private focus groups held worldwide. Not limited to this area, the guidance provided has been key to the success of DBX’s overall design.

The seats are trimmed in sumptuous, full grain leather, sourced from long term partner Bridge of Weir. An industry first, both the headlining and electric roof blind are available in a luxurious Alcantara® finish, providing a harmonious design, light obscuration and solar attenuation without compromising headroom. Throughout the cabin, DBX maintains an authenticity of materials, with judicious use of metal, glass and wood throughout the cabin.

Another design highlight includes the elegantly crafted bridged center console allowing for both flexible storage below and a beautiful, architectural centerpiece. This feature keeps valuables close to hand while not occupying the passenger seat and away from dirt on the car’s floor mats. As part of ‘Q by Aston Martin’ – Aston Martin’s personalization service - optional features of this center console can be machined from a solid piece of wood, such as Walnut, for added tactility.

A contemporary range of exquisite wood, composite and metal veneers ensure that the cabin can be tailored to any taste. This includes a range of innovative materials and an industry first application of a fabric made from 80% wool. A new flax composite – derived from the same plant as fine linen – also provides an alternative to carbon fibre and a distinctive design aesthetic.

Recommended Retail Price from £158,000* in the UK, €193,500 in Germany and $189,900 in USA. DBX is on sale now, with first deliveries scheduled to begin Q2 2020.

#Aston Martin DBX #Aston Martin #dbx #cars #suv #first look #news

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hgroogingsupplies · 1 year ago

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HG Roofing Supplies are a leading supplier of roof insulation materials in the UK. Quality products for energy efficiency and comfort. Get a quote today!

#High-quality roofing supplies UK #Metal pichted roofing materials #Roof supplies store #Roofing felt suppliers West Yorkshire #Flat roof materials Leeds #Roofing accessories West Yorkshire #Best Fascias and soffits in Leeds #Roofing insulation materials Leeds #Roof insulation material supplier #Roofing sheets and panels #Metal roofing sheets UK #Lead Alternative Flashing #High-quality Lead Flashing Roll #Chimney pots West Yorkshire #Flat Roof Windows & Skylights #Roofing ventilation products Leeds #Roofing supplies Leeds #Leeds roofing materials #West Yorkshire roofing products #Roofing equipment Leeds #Roofing shingles Leeds #Guttering supplies West Yorkshire #Roofing tools Leeds #Roofing adhesives Leeds #Slate roofing tiles Leeds #Roofing nails West Yorkshire #Roofing membrane Leeds #EPDM rubber roofing Leeds #Skylight installation West Yorkshire #Metal roofing supplies Leeds

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allcarnews · 6 years ago

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Conti GT No. 1 Edition 🇬🇧 ______________________________________ [6/28/19] The new Continental GT is one of the best cars on sale today in terms of design and its ability to blend luxury, grand touring and high performance into one package! Now Bentley has given the convertible version a special No.1 Edition that harks back to the 1929 No1. Bentley Blower (see double pic)! Just 100 special editions are set to be made for the world and can be had in just two body colors: Dragon Red or Beluga Black! 🔥@Allcarnews Spec Sheet: The only power plants available will be a TwinTurbo 6.0L W12 making 626HP and 664 lb-ft of torque through an 8 speed gearbox to all four wheels and can do 0-60 in just 3.7sec with a 207MPH TopSpeed…..all in a luxobarge that weighs 5,322LBS!🔥 After choosing between those two colors, you then can select either a Claret red or Beluga convertible roof color and a choice between gloss black or cricket ball brown wheels! Standard is a number 1 decorated in the center of the grille as well as pure 18 carat gold exterior badges. Somehow Bentley has made the interior even more insane with a custom center clock spinner emblem in the tri-folding center console, cricket ball or beluga upholstery, an Alcantara steering wheel, knurled metal and gold coated dials also can be found. ________________________________________ ACN EXTRA: #BLING ________________________________________ - - #Bentley #W12 #ContinentalGT #CONtinental #GT #convertible #UK #british #german #Number1 #special #drive #carbon||#powerful #performance #turbocharged #supercharged #advanced#SupercarsRevamped #Supercar#HyperCar #ItsWhiteNoise #CarLifeStyle#MadWhips #CupGang #Carstagram#BlackList #AmazingCars247 An #allcarnews post https://www.instagram.com/p/BzRL2qrBPYo/?igshid=1fgay6o4dfir6

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vicrender-blog · 5 years ago

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The Best Cladding for Houses

There are three main types of metal cladding systems; profiled sheeting, cassette panels and composite panels. These three choices offer the most concise cladding solutions to Architects and specifies here in the UK and overseas.

The most effective and concise way to classify metal-based cladding systems is by their method of manufacture. Best cladding for homes can fall into one of following three categories:

Profiled Sheeting

Cassette Panels

Composite Panels

Profiled sheeting is one of the most best cladding for homes panel systems and has been in use for decades. Steel or aluminum is normally used for profiled sheeting. It can be applied to both roof and walls, in each case the performance requirements vary.

On roofs the sheeting can be susceptible to greater solar gain; this can mean thermal movement which has implications for end laps between sheets and their fixings. The roof will also be subjected to foot traffic during both installation and routine maintenance. The finish therefore has to be designed for greater toughness, stability and to minimize corrosion. On walls, as they are more visible, the color fastness of the finish is more important.

A major factor in the success of profiled metal cladding systems was the development of self-drilling and tapping screws which enable the rapid and secure fastening of the sheets from one side.

Conventional bolts and hooks are much slower to install requiring access from both sides of the sheet. Most screws are carbon steel with some form of metallic or metallic and organic coating to improve durability. Washers and heads are incorporated in screw. The screw heads can be covered with plastic caps to match the color of the steel cladding system. There are many varieties of screw, of different lengths, cutting heads and thread pitch and depth, depending on the type of best cladding for homes the substrate to which it is attached and the type of insulation used in the cladding panel system.

There are a range of proprietary composite cladding systems available in the UK, generally there is little difference in the actual core and facing material, the major differences lie in the joints between panels, the range of sizes and the range of architectural features such as corners and curved panels that are available.

Panels can also be laminated; this process applies to the other core materials. Adhesive is applied to the steel faces and pre-formed slabs of insulation. The panels are then clamped together either in a press or by passing them through a series of rollers.

#best cladding for homes

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singulardivinity-blog · 5 years ago

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Cured

Prompt 2 (uploaded 14.07.19) Do not replicate, copy, translate etc without permission. Work belongs to Admin Isla of @singulardivinity.

Characters: N/A Genre: Drama Words: 1075 Warnings: Mentions of suicide. Author’s note: This piece is in no way supposed to glorify, romanticise or encourage suicide or self-harm. If you or someone you know may be feeling suicidal please contact a helpline or a hospital. Lifeline Australia: 13 11 14 Lifeline USA: 800-273-TALK (8255) HopeLine UK: 0800 068 4141 Lifeline Shanghai: (021) 6279-8990

Pushing open the door, its round golden handle still gleaming, inviting. Back in this house. Envious green walls and chaotic floor, scattered with preceding souvenirs. An open room behind closed doors. There had been a life here, stability, visible in the

The pale curtains billowed against the incoming breeze from the large gaping sliding door to the balcony.

The height. You could almost, maybe, touch the clouds.

Tranquility.

Her shoes. Those simple black things she insisted on wearing everywhere, although refused to wear inside the warmth of four walls, opting for bare feet to feel the pliant carpet or the rough wooden halls. I had forgotten the soft patterns of the carpet, swirling greys that wrapped and danced alongside her, embracing the soft balls of her feet. Her shoes lay scattered, not neatly placed to the left of the doorway like usual, as if thrown. A room that had once held the joyousness of newfound harmony, recovering patients.

The piano. Its lid lay open, welcoming, offering its pristine keys to anyone who dared press. Those quiet melodies she played as I slept, or when she thought I was sleeping, lithe fingers barely grazing the keys in hopes of keeping me away. I never liked the piano, which is probably why she tried hiding her skill from me, keeping her euphony from my distasteful opinions. The piano was an instrument of power, too vehement for her apprehensive personality; but maybe that’s why she loved it, because it gave her unobstructed dominance. With it at her beck and call she could evoke rumours, scenarios, both for good and for bad, she could change someone’s mind.

A light switch. Up. Down. The warmth that lit up the small bulb did nothing for the bright daylight spewing through the balcony’s opening into the kitchen. All the power points turned down, a nervous habit she had fallen into after reading a report on an apartment that had caught fire due to the freely flowing electricity. No matter how many times I assured her we were fine, she insisted on checking each and every switch before bed, just in case.

The lilies had fallen against the grain of the wooden counter, the glass vase lay sideways, emptying itself of water that had stilled in its shifting due to the void surrounding it. How could something lay so still while everything around appeared so anarchic?

The browning petals fell from the lilies when I tried to stand them up. The stems leaning against one another as the dried remnants landing silently on the bench. A single petal fell to the floor, landing at my feet and I wondered if that was her. A singe petal that had fallen before me, begging me to catch her. She hit the ground so hard because of my inability to understand her pain. Too hard.

She never wanted to be saved. She promised me that she was fine, that this wouldn’t last. Maybe she was and I was just too harsh on her, maybe I was too scared of losing her.

Agape. The bedroom. Clothes, on the bed, the floor, strewn on every surface. There were none of hers, although I knew she didn’t take any possessions with her. She wasn’t a materialist, she believed in things stronger than objects and would throw away everything she owned for the stars. I orbited her, probably obsessively. She was the only constellation I could ever be content with. No planet, star or sun was more breathtaking.

I saw her favourite coat on the discount rack of a thrift shop on the way here. The green insides lining that thick, dark thing. It was like her in a lot of ways, mysterious and beautiful. Guarded and alluring. She called that jacket her funeral coat, however not once did she wear it there. She told me she wanted to be buried in it one day, no matter whether it fit or not by then. I guess she wasn’t. To see it stand so lonely in a room full of meaningless objects brought me nothing but shame. I was tempted to buy it, just out of anger. It had belonged to her. It held her more than I had. Reaching the bed, I hastily clawed at the articles of offense that dared obscure those immaculate white sheets.

Her soft breaths. A tug at the ends of my hair, she sighed. Angelic.

The sheets had been changed and I wondered if the original had made its way to that thrift shop too.

The en-suite. White and tiled. The bathroom tap was on. How long had it been left like this, water spilling fat drops out of the faucet until they met that harsh porcelain basin? Those tears ran down pipes into the city, emptying at everyone’s feet. Rolling away until they evaporated, the heat of skin upon skin too much for those tiny wet drops. This city is full of the heat of humanity.

The balcony, innocent and inviting. A simple chair, wicker base and fluffy cushion. That cushion had once been on the bed. Had she moved it here? We had sat here together only days ago, her head pressed against my chest, over my heart. She didn’t make a sound as she cried. She sat up, a moment of realisation dawning on me, as I felt her fleeting kisses on my forehead, nose and mouth, salty and wet from the tears that were streaming down her tinted cheeks. The epiphany, I love her.

She turned towards the skyline and watched those pink clouds darken. How long did we sit here before I felt her body fall slack against me and I carried her into the bedroom? How long until I woke to find her side empty and cold? How long until I looked out upon the vast grey beyond the balcony and saw red and blue flashing against the darkness, white blinding lights stalled at either end of the road as impatient cars awaited instruction? How long until I got the call?

Looking out upon the city once again.

The outlines of other lives, carved through the metal beams of the cityscape. Roofs that held stories. Containing dreams and promises, fear and hate. Love.

Otherworldly emotions.

The expanse.

Had she touched those clouds? Reached the stars?

You were my preservation, my protection and health. The penicillin for my problems. My drug.

I was not yours.

I could not save you.

#poetry #short story #writing #isla

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nicelaxcz · 2 years ago

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Sound control mat

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The cookie is set by the GDPR Cookie Consent plugin and is used to store whether or not user has consented to the use of cookies. The cookie is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Performance". This cookie is set by GDPR Cookie Consent plugin. The cookie is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Other. This cookie is set by GDPR Cookie Consent plugin. Barrier Mats control noise by blocking the transmission of sound energy and damping vibrations caused by sound energy. Sheet size is 1600 x 1000mm, However to prevent damage during transit we usually supply this in. Its sole design is for use in acoustic applications where a high level of vibration damping is required and comes with a self-adhesive backing for ease of application. The cookies is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Necessary". DMP2 Vibration Damping Mat is a lightweight PVA-based, visco-elastic polymer. The cookie is set by GDPR cookie consent to record the user consent for the cookies in the category "Functional". The cookie is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Analytics". These cookies ensure basic functionalities and security features of the website, anonymously. Necessary cookies are absolutely essential for the website to function properly. Use on the vehicle floor, doors, wheel arches, roof & side panels Designed in the UK, Manufactured in the EU.Fire Retardant & Heat Resistant from -40☌ to +120☌.Lower Road, Exhaust, Engine & Transmission Noise.Very Soft & Flexible For Easy Installation.This added flexibility allows the Dodo mat to be easily installed, with improved cosmetic appearance whilst minimising creases and folds. The distinctive Hex top sheet is purposely designed to be aid installation and mould easily on more complex surfaces. The unique Dodo specification chemistry of the synthetic butyl core effectively deadens panel vibration without the excessive bulk of competitor products. To maintain flexibility and ease of cutting we also employ our unique Hex embossing pattern.ĭead Mat Hex provides a lower weight solution for the car/van owner wanting a quiet smoother drive without adding unnecessary mass. Simply cut, peel & stick Dodo Dead Mat Hex on the interior sheet metal of any vehicle to destroy unwanted vibrations & structural noise.ĭodo Dead Mat Hex has a high grade butyl compound for better sound deadening & vibration control.

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The installation doesn’t need professional skills, but if you prefer it can done by a professional installer of sound insulation, please contact us for more information.Dodo Dead Mat Hex is a self adhesive, foil backed sound deadening vibration damper. It can be applied over or under mortar and directly into soft surfaces with polyurethane mounting adhesive. Sylpro is designed for installation on horizontal partition elements for impact noise insulation. Make those panels as dead as a Dodo Dodo Dead Mat Hex has a high grade butyl compound for better sound deadening & vibration control. Sylpro sound insulation pad is suitable for: Sylpro is manufactured by the company Isolgomma Italia. Sylpro is waterproof, does not change the structure and thickness over time and is manufactured according to standard Leed - defining provisions for environmental and sustainable development. The material is easy for cutting and laying, as well as for transportation and storage. Compared with the other available insulation underlayment Sylpro is characterized by very high volume weight, outstanding flexibility (unbreakability/ friability) and dynamic stiffness of 63 MN/m3. Sylpro is made by thin rubber mat, made of SBR rubber with higher density - 730 kg/M3. Sylpro can be used in new buildings before executing screed or reconstruction of floors, by direct application onto existing surfaces. This material is suitable for usage in residential and office buildings, where the goal is to minimize disturbance to the occupants of the premises below. The laying of Sylpro reduces the "sharpness" of the impact noise and subjectively makes it more "deaf". Sylpro is a sound insulation pad designed to improve the sound insulation of floating floors, where the impact noise is caused by walking, stamping or moving objects on the floor.

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