#Regent Miniatures
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The ilClan era has the battle pope, now I have a ride for the ilClan anti-battle pope.
#battletech#hobby#miniatures#mini painting#battlemech#mecha#mechwarrior#mech#assault mech#omnimech#regent
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I want to go into the city tomorrow or ig later today before the public holiday but going there on my own really is kinda miserable even tho I’ve done it like a billion times lol
#I mostly just go to kinokuniya#then go to regent place and go to my favourite Asian grocer#and then to daiso#I also think which I rarely do is get some gachapon#I just want some cute miniatures for my figures
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new invincible oc!
cele grayson aka celestial !
(they/he/she)
Cele was an artificially grown viltrumite that was apart of a secret project to help repopulate viltrum. They were the only baby that lived through the full gestational period and didn’t die after their birth. They were born august 6th, 1999
Cele was made by taking the DNA of a woman who had died during the scourge virus and of nolan grayson. It was done without his knowledge, he never knew about these experiments as they were only known about by the highest ranking viltrumites. The whole project being personally overseen by grand regent thragg who wanted to find a way to effectively create purebloods without having to mix them with other species.
They spent their early years constantly observed and studied. Days consisted of near endless experiments and exams. They were treated more like a lab rat than an actual person with all their actions under heavy supervision, monitored by thragg who was the only viltrumite they were allowed to interact with during this time. When their powers manifested at the age of 7 training immediately began. Since they were the only success of the program Thragg decided to make sure Cele was a powerful weapon for the empire. Personally taught by Thragg and cared for by General Thula, they came to see her as a pseudo mother figure during this time.
At the age of 14 they were officially made a solider and allowed to go on missions with other viltrumites. At 19 they were put in charge of a planet that had anomalies that defied physics. After a year of being left mostly to themselves the stress finally began to eat away at them and their mental health took a sharp decline. One day during a visit from the generals a gravitational anomaly opened up a miniature black hole in their mental distress and anguish they threw themselves into the blackhole, it later devouring the entire planet with her. The generals barely escaped and witnessed the entire thing believing cele to be dead.
Instead they were spat out into the multiverse from a white hole and spent the next few years surviving on their own and trying to learn how to use their new powers. When they suddenly were spat back out into their universe, they were instead in the Milky Way galaxy instead of the Andromeda galaxy. Remembering that the other viltrumites told him that their father was on earth they headed there.
Only to find out he had just left a few weeks prior after a huge fight with his son, mark. Now they have to adjust to life on earth while they hide from the empire out of fear of being found.
Themes:
With Cele i wanted to really explore the idea of “What you were made for vs. What you want to be”. As well as the trauma that came with their upbringing and them coming to terms with the lack of self worth they tend to feel and the martyr complex he develops from this trauma too.
Another major theme is the “found family” trope. Cele from a young age has always looked for parental figures and people they can feel close too since they were little but their first pseudo parents (thragg, thula) barely treated them as a true person with autonomy. When she comes to earth and meets mark and debbie they begin to really learn what a family should be. This gives them the courage to begin making friends on earth and letting people into their lives.
Powers
Viltrumite Abilities
Superhuman Strength: Cele has strength of a well trained viltrumite of their age allowing them to perform extreme feats. (One such example was when they held up the upper half of a mountain by themselves on earth during a major disaster. Scientists calculate the mass held and then placed back was anywhere from 200-400 tones)
Superhuman Speed: Cele can move at extreme speeds both on foot and in the air. Allowing him to travel around any space with extreme ease. They can fly from the earths surface to the moon in a matter of minutes. They also are capable of traveling through space on their own.
Superhuman Stamina: Due to her smart atoms Cele’s body rarely tires and is capable of physical exertion for long periods of time without becoming fatigued.
Superhuman Durability: Cele’s tissues are extremely durable to the point of almost invulnerability. While they can be damaged by other viltrumites or beings stronger than her they can withstand damage that would vaporize and easily kill a normal human. Able to withstand falling from a planet’s atmosphere onto its surface, nuclear weaponry, the surface of stars and are now invulnerable to black holes.
Flight: like any viltrumite they can manipulate the atoms around them which allows them flight. They are able to reach light speeds when flying but only do so in space.
Superhuman Equilibrium: Cele has a very enhanced sense of balance. However this sensitive process which takes place in their ears means that like any viltrumite, they could be harmed by a specific frequency which would incapacitate them and make them unable to even fly or stand upright.
Superhuman Senses: Cele possesses acutely enhanced senses. Such as hearing, smell and sight. This can also lead to them becoming easily overstimulated, especially when they arrive on earth.
Accelerated Regeneration: her body can recover from injuries at an extreme rate. Even capable of regenerating full organs, nerves and bones. As long as their heart isn’t severely damaged they can and will heal.
Decelerated Aging: like all viltrumites they have an extremely long lifespan. While they are only currently 24, they will appear the same for many centuries. Viltrumites live for many thousands of years, their own father Nolan is over 2000 years old and appears middle aged.
Non-Viltrumite Abilities
(manifest after the black hole accident)
Pocket dimensional void (PDV): Cele can access their own pocket dimension which they refer too as the "void". It is a black oxygen-less miniature dimension that is seemingly endless, although it hasn't been measured. It is mainly used by cele as a sort of infinite storage space, any item placed in here that is not an animal of some kind will stay in the exact same state as it was when placed inside. They also use it asa place to safely decompress and calm down at times.
Dark Matter Portals: Can create portals made of dark matter. These portals can either open up to the PDV or function as traditional portals that teleport an individual from place to place. If too many are opened at once and/or kept open it can quickly tire out cele and even cause them to pass out. It's one of the things that can truly exhaust them.
Gravitational Invulnerability: They are impervious to the gravitational pull of any black hole and seemingly unaffected by them where anything else would be pulled and stretched into its singularity. It is unknown if cele can fully enter into a black hole again and what would happen
Celestial Body Connection: a new manifestation that sometimes suddenly means they feel the power of whatever celestial body they are nearest too. They have no control over this and currently it means they can become completely overwhelmed with the strength of these ancient creatures that are far more powerful and knowing that herself. Perhaps one day they could harness this power but for now it remains more of a hindrance
Singularity: the creation of a very specific type of portal that is a miniature blackhole. No other portals can be active when this is done. Extremely unstable ability thatcan leave cele seriously wounded. The singularity is a writhing, bubbling ultra-condensed amount of gravity that takes a massive amount of strength and energy to control. Only done in space as to not bring harm to any celestial bodies immediately nearby because if it was done directly on top of them it could possibly begin to immediately pull in the planet or star.
-The longer cele does this the more they lose control of it. Once their sclera turn black and their irises begin to glow it means he will be left seriously injured. Their eyes will remain in that state (except their irises will no longer glow) until they are fully healed.
Inspirations
Ellie Williams: while I will say there’s no main inspiration for cele. I do draw a lot of their personality and behavior from ellie. The struggle to survive and stay alive that that then clashes with having to try and “fit in” when arriving in Jackson is something that very much mirrors Cele’s experience with arriving on earth. And cele like ellie has very little issue about hurting/killing others if it means it helps them get to their goal. The world has made them a bit jaded and awkward but there is still much love underneath that
Rei Ayanami: I mainly pulled from the idea that rei was made to be a tool for NERV and taught to be loyal and obedient no matter what. As well as the aesthetic of the lighter hair for cele, they were made to be tool for the viltrum empire and to further its goals. So when they are pulled into the black hole into the multiverse and then spat back out and they head to earth, this all crushes their world view. They learn they aren’t some weapon or tool to be fought over but rather a person with their own agency
Prince Zuko: cele struggles a lot with the internal battle of “what you were taught” and growing out of that mindset. They are constantly compared to their father growing up and then begin to realize on earth that comparison isn’t something to strive for. They spend a lot of time on earth learning to be more vulnerable and making connections while overcoming their viltrumite programming
Princess Azula: cele like azula was the prodigy of their peoples respective leader. They were seen much more of a tool than a person and constantly pushed themselves to be the best they could be. Becoming very powerful at the young age, they have learned to study their opponents and analyze them to find immediate weakness. A tool they will use to help take down the viltrum empire
If you made it all the way to the end thank you for reading! If you have any questions about cele please send it all to my ask box! 💜
#invincible#invincible oc#cele grayson#invincible show#invincible comic#nolan grayson#mark grayson#debbie grayson#thula invincible#grand regent thragg#crismakesstuff#my oc#oc ref: celestial#🎆🕳#character sheet#expression sheet#putting my little guy into the world#please be nice to them#also just so no one forgets Cele’s pronouns are#they/he/she#and they are very bisexual#they get so so confused by everything on earth#invincible fanart
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Daddy’s Girl
HEADCANON
PAIRING: Dad!Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader | Dad!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader
WORDS: 1,774.
SUMMARY: Rough ideas of the Targaryen princes as fathers to their first, newborn daughters.
WARNINGS: fluff, swearing, overprotective!Aemond, overprotective!Aegon, reckless Aegon, lactation kink, breeding kink, slight praise kink.
A/N - Ya’ll knew this was coming surely... I can’t get enough of this domestic shit!!! Dad!Aemond has me in a chokehold and simultaneously, Dad!Aegon has my back arched, wtf do I do?!
AEMOND TARGARYEN:
When Aemond saw and held his tiny little daughter for the very first time, it was like love at first sight.
He didn't know how anything so small, so precious could bring out all these intense feelings in him, and yet here she was in all her glory.
She was the apple of her father's eye, they were obsessed with each other.
He actually wouldn’t fly her on Vhagar when she’s just a newborn, he would want to wait it out. Considering his first flight was very turbulent, he would never put his daughter at risk.
She is his “byka prince” [little princess].
Aemond definitely selects her little outfits, if you both stroll around markets or attend royal visits to various other places, and he sees something he adores, he’ll buy it for her. If he sees a particular material/pattern and colour he likes, he orders the servants to have it made for his little princess. Even toys, he’ll have them hand-crafted, a small, hand-painted dragon for his little girl, it would be a miniature Vhagar.
No doubt, he dresses her in the Targaryen colours or even occasionally Green, in honour of his mother.
If she cries during the night, he’s usually the first to awake and check (he does not mind, one bit). He reasons with you saying “You did give birth to her, so your hard part is done now it’s my turn, issa jorrāelagon [my love].”
Immediately, she falls asleep after he cradles her for some time, sometimes you even hear him humming a song. On the off chance, that she doesn't settle, it’s often because she either is hungry and needs feeding, or she needs a nappy change.
Aemond would be so bad at nappy changes, although he’s willing to try and gradually gets the gist of it. He doesn’t mind the dirty work.
He loves to bathe his little princess, he only lets you and himself, maybe even Alicent if she’s free and willing to.
Aemond would definitely do that skin-to-skin touch, when she’s a newborn: he wants her to get familiar to his touch and scent, in case he has responsibilities and duties he needs to attend to as Prince Regent.
The thought of his daughter not recognising him or resembling him to a stranger terrifies him.
Overprotective is an understatement.
Aemond will literally kill anyone that even dares to hurt or speak ill of his daughter.
Once she starts walking, growing into her toddler phase, she becomes more active and involved. She’ll literally fall and trip over herself (and you’ll be okay with it, and Aemond would just be losing his shit), and if another child is present, he’ll even scold them.
If he sees a graze or cut or a tiny, spectacle of blood on her, it’ll be the end of the fucking world.
Having lost his eye, he would never forgive himself if she ever has to endure pain or trauma like that.
You try to reason with Aemond, that part of parenting you need to teach resilience and the ability to ‘bounce back’ although, Aemond’s not having it. So much to your disapproval, your daughter will definitely grow up spoilt and protected.
Now that Aemond can hold her appropriately, and she can seat herself properly, he mounts her on Vhagar with him and take flight. At first, she's terrified of the height, although seeing how happy and comfortable Aemond is, she reads him so well and starts to enjoy it too.
They literally have their own language, they can read minds. Aemond doesn't even need to ask or probe his little girl about what she wants, he just knows. Some water? Here you go. Some sweets? There you go, princess.
He teaches her Valyrian at such a small age, as soon as she starts verbalising, that she eventually becomes more fluent than you.
She definitely has Aemond’s Targaryen hair and lilac eyes, although your features, which Aemond fucking loves.
He definitely takes care of her hair, has his own routine for it, just as he maintains his own. He even learns how to properly braid her hair.
Aemond is so relieved and impressed that his daughter is not at all afraid of his missing eye, and the sapphire that replaces it. At times, she even tries to touch and grab at it, and he has to pull her away, otherwise she just smiles lovingly and laughs at him.
She's the only one (besides yourself) that can genuinely make Aemond smile, like if he's having a shit day, as soon as he sees her (even if she's asleep in her cradle), that’s enough to warm him.
Aemond loves and accepts your body changes, he reassures you when you feel insecure, that your body performed a miracle, and that you grew his child effortlessly.
He definitely watches you breastfeeding and has no shame: something about the way that only you can provide for her, makes him feral.
The man has a lactation kink, 100%, once he knows he’s daughter has been fed, and now that she can start tolerating solid feeds, he spoils himself to your milk. He finds the sweet, creamy taste delicious.
Nonetheless, he knows for certain he needs to have another child with you immediately, and won’t stop until he sees your belly swell.
AEGON ii TARGARYEN:
Aegon would be so nervous having a little girl at first.
The history with women that he's had and the poor treatment he had previously shown, he is aware was unacceptable and since having met you, he has changed.
Although, his past would haunt him regardless.
He did remain by your side during the birth, and when the maester declared a daughter, he was in a state of shock.
He wouldn't completely withdraw himself from you nor the babe, he loved you too dearly to do that. And seeing how well you were with her, and how warm your daughter was with you, he slowly started to gain confidence in himself.
You’d help him get used to holding her, demonstrating the correct technique, for she was so tiny against his body, he kept fearing that he’d drop her or hurt her in his grip.
He actually even stopped drinking completely now, he didn’t want to risk being tipsy, in case he had to hold her.
Nonetheless, he became an absolute pro.
He even begged to take her on Sunfyre with him, although you were still quite anxious for she was so small.
Somehow, he convinced you for just a quick, short flight: he trusted Sunfyre with his life, and he knew the dragon would nurture and protect his daughter too.
You would watch from the ground in complete silence, just anxious although, as soon as he landed and dismounted with the babe still nestled and settled in his arms, you were quite surprised.
Aegon would be so proud of himself, it boosts his ego.
He would always regularly check up on her, even if he only just saw her 10 minutes ago.
“Aegon she's been asleep in her crib for the past hour, nothing has changed, why do you feel the need to look?”
He can’t help himself, you’ve come to find it’s as though a switch has flicked on for him, he’s become so protective over you and the babe, he can’t stand leaving you two alone.
“But she needs me...” He’ll say, as he just stares at her asleep in absolute awe that he helped to make this angel.
She definitely looks more like her Dad, soft, gentle features with the Targaryen traits. She literally looks like an angel.
She has Aegon’s plump cheeks and he’s always just kissing and nibbling at them.
Aegon loves how everyone fawns over her, including his mother. In a way, it makes him feel accomplished.
Nonetheless, as soon as she’s more involved and interactive, she never wants to leave Aegon’s side. Like she clings to him throughout the day, and cries for him if he isn't around.
You’ve come to accept that she's an absolute Daddy’s Girl, he’ll carry her around to his council meetings, and she'll bury her face in his chest or the crook of his neck when he tries to get her to greet other lords with him, although she’s too shy.
Most of the time she even chills on his lap when he sits the Iron Throne. Listening and ordering his subjects for the day, she often remains unphased, although occasionally she’ll try to grab his attention by playing with his hair or trying to touch his crown. That’s when you come in and take her.
On the days that she is not around, if he has urgent or serious matters to attend (no place for a babe), he feels so empty without her presence there, and feels something is missing. He itches to get back to you both.
Aegon definitely struggles to be hands on, he hates the dirty work of nappy changes and sometimes begs for you to do it. Although, you both have agreements and take turns with bathing her, or if she cries in the night, Aegon does see to her (although struggles to awake and gradually gets to her).
As random as this is, Aegon would definitely have a Dad!bod and no one can change my mind. The drinking caught up although, his daughter sneaking in sweets to feed her Daddy whilst they chill on the throne doesn't help either. (Aemond will be the type to keep up with his regular training, Aegon struggles with all the responsibilities, although still trains not as often).
You find Aegon blowing raspberries on his daughter’s stomach, and it makes her laugh like no tomorrow.
He definitely tells you openly that he wants more children now.
“Perhaps a son?” He suggests and you reassure him, that is completely out of your control and “Upto the Gods.”
As soon as your healed from the birth, Aegon is fucking eager to get onto you, and his breeding kink shows.
He moans how he can’t wait to see your belly swell with his child, another angel: he loves the idea that people will think scandalously of how quick you’ve become pregnant again. Aegon does not care though.
He even prefers your postpartum body and idolises the changes: he loves how big your tits and ass are, only for his own pleasures.
During the night he'll leave his cock inside of you, making sure he seizes every opportunity to impregnate you.
You are so proud of the father Aegon has stepped up to be, and you make it known to him, he favours your praise above anyone else.
#aemond targaryen#ewan mitchell#aegon ii targaryen#tom glynn carney#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen imagines#aemond targaryen fanfic#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aegon ii targaryen imagines#aegon ii targaryen imagine#aegon ii targaryen fanfic#aegon ii targaryen fanfiction#aegon ii targaryen fluff#aegon ii targaryen smut#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen fluff#dad!aegon ii#dad!aemond targaryen#hotd#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen x reader#aegon ii x reader#hotd fanfic#hotd imagines#alicent hightower
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Qyburn, Lord Qyburn, Master of Whisperers to Queen Regent Cersei, The Bloody Maester.
"Terrible times breed terrible things, My Lord."
Finished up everyone's favourite Grandpa Frankenstein. Qyburn is a delightfully spooky character in the books, collaborating with anyone who will find use for his talents and clearly engaging in some pretty vicious blood magic and necromancy somewhere deep in the bowels of the Red Keep. While I don't know exactly where his story will go, I have a feeling that Cersei is going to regret enabling him just as much as she did empowering the Sparrows. I like the stooped, humble expression on the miniature's face here, coupled with his kindly expression and offset by the bloody knife in his hands, and the hooked chains hanging off of his belt.
#a song of ice and fire#asoiaf miniatures#mini painting#a song of ice and fire miniatures#cmon#lannister#qyburn#maester
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Miniature portrait of Mariana of Austria
This painting is inspired by some of the portraits of Queen Mariana painted after 1665. Portraits on porcelain plates were common in Spain until the end of the 19th century. It is, therefore, likely that this painting was made in a French workshop, although it cannot be ruled out that it is a Spanish work from around 1900, when portraits of illustrious figures from the past became fashionable and were used to form dynastic ensembles. Its frame follows 17th-century models.
#history#mariana de austria#house of habsburg#portrait#miniature painting#17th century#please like and reblog#mariana of austria#museo del prado#art history#historical figures#nun#woman#woman in history#please look at her#look at my baby#look#my hyperfixations
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Truth to be Dared - Ch. 05
(First) / (Previous)
/// CW: brief groping and non-consensual impact play in separate scenes. ///
Tin-tin-Tin-ting.
The Great Hall summons its petitions. It should be matters of regular import — if late due to her absence, as the Princess suffers as little of her Regent, his rule, on his wooden chair as she can — to whom peasant and lord should attend in one-to-three-fourths arrangement.
Alas, her faun at her side, there are none but fools here today — besides herself.
Tin-ting. Ting-tin-Ting.
Ten-dozen knights — unbattled, to whom this is the most fearsome sight — criss-cross the hall with pavise in hand, as to wind her noisome, noble circus-seekers towards her as a soft-bellied snake, poised to pounce, with prattle that never ceases to bore.
Not that Florentina expected otherwise. It is true — that she promised her faun some peace. But sometimes a circus is willed, and she will hush them and be heard:
You have no right to me—
Tin-ting. Tin.
Ah— Yes. Those. It’s a wondrous sound, is it not? The bells. An entire hour to affix them, with Esme’s assistance; a half-dozen per horn, red ribbons with miniature, brass chimes.
That sort one mounts upon a cat you wish not to mouse, here now to be pleasant as her faun writhes and finds it not so; perhaps it will teach it to be still. Till then, a delight to fill one’s hours amidst another unclever remark, and another, and another, that implies the Bishop’s words — her Uncle’s, come now — might still bear fruit.
The word seed comes to purplish, wine-stained lips too often. Then soon its prickish cousin, seeding: an unpleasant conjugation, one that had never seemed to suit her. More sooner, as more the man she thinks, should the Princess bed her suitors instead.
Tin-tin-tin-Tinnn. Ting-tin.
So she gestures to a pair of cages: the one between its legs, and the one it’s in — wrought for a songbird, though sized for a cockatrice stuffed on a thousand of them. Her faun itself, wrist-bound-in-ribbon to its peak, made to perch on its hooves, after it had dared butt its horns upon the bars and lurch its claws at Esme.
Strange it was, that her handmaiden had still looked upon it with a wordless sorrow.
Tin-tin.
No matter the now, as each petitioner requests the same; and sups their hands on thigh and breast, pulls at its horns and sees how close their fingers can be afore it bites.
If it does, it will be their Gods-damned fault for reaching in so far.
But it never does. Its wrists chafe on silk and it looks smaller for each courtier that thrusts at it; each one that looks to it and then droops as iron in the forge, slaves themselves to it like a flower to the sun; a moment that starts to madden her, for its bewildering recurrence.
Yet afore she can ever act, it stops.
Some sneer at it then, others whimper; one cousin-of-another fumbles an attempt to slap it and Florentina has to half-rise from her throne to make them scatter. Some former suitors dare show themselves, though do not as others do offer gifts in exchange for it.
“Dowries?” she mentions, to see those ones choke on the ash of their obvious, shared scheme; that she would do what, trade her kingdom for a faun?
Ting-tin-ting. Tin. Tin-tin-Ting.
She has both.
Though none see the latter as much beautiful, nor even as the prize it is. Too proud to see what’s in front of their own nose. For amidst the pupil-pinched wickedness in its goatish glare — and its still-vexing insistence on spurious disobedience — it is otherwise so soft, and cannot hide it now: so begging to be tamed.
The sun, ever drawn to the horizon, slips across the hall till hours-past it rests on her stone seat, and she feels herself an egg fried atop the stove. She pilfers her mind for what courtesies, less and less pleasantries also, will hurry the next one on, and rubs her bloomed impatience into the signet ring — symbol of the dynasty that is, for now, still hers.
That none of them, she thinks more and more, will ever bow to again.
Tin-tin. Ting-tin-ting.
Who would ever come to bow to a circus? Lady Relbert arrives near to the tail, as Florentina expects; to question the Princess who last saw her lord-husband; to inspect the foul beast that slew him. Florentina restrains herself in the hot, overmade chair — though cannot help but wonder her gaze across the Lady Relbert, who dresses not quite so proper as one should in mourning, and watches — to see what she sees.
It recurs in half; the Lady deigns not approach it more than she would the Princess and she does not droop, but creases like worn velvet, “Afore perhaps I could, but now I cannot fathom such a creature could kill my husband, why she—” and stills, as dress-folds rustle.
“My Lady?” Florentina inquires, and the Lady stumbles.
“Goodness. Yes,” she responds, startled. “I was just thinking of how dearly I’ll miss him.”
Her faun chortles at that, and Florentina tenses till she realises the Lady has taken either no offence… or no notice, and excuses herself — and leaves the Princess to her bells.
---
It is a—
Ting-tin-ting.
It’s a—
Tin-tin-ting. Ting.
It— is— a— dreadful sound.
Tin-ting. Tin-tin.
And has been so for days.
Ting-tin-Tin.
It is leashed now, near to the hearth, where an iron anchor-loop has been sunk low into the wall. The delicate chain that leads from it trims a pool of loose furs and spare pillows which one might have mistaken for a sleepover — were Florentina still small enough, and ever been allowed the friends for it.
She has retired her faun, as promised. Yet still—
Tin-ting. Ting-tin-Ting.
Still — it will not stop. She has tried to remove the bastardly-twee chimes, but it will not let her close. Instead, it snorts at her flame-licked shadow and bucks even a cautious touch.
It had allowed Esme to sit aside; she had asked it, politer than she ever was to Florentina, if she could untie the ribbons. Her faun had been silent — as if it would not be — and Esme turned, “Can you give her some space, Florrie?”
A step-then-another back did not suffice.
“Give us space,” Esme had instructed, and Florentina creaked.
It stared as she retreated, pupils square as the time-buckled dais that props up her chair; what whispers she might’ve stolen crushed aneath the uncertain squeal of her routed boots.
Esme followed into the bedchamber soon after — been turned on after a twinkled bell did not come loose. “She’ll come round on the morrow.”
To let it, as if it would.
Because that’s how you treat a girl.
Ting-tin-ting-Tin-tin.
As if it isn’t mocking her — a revenge it culls somehow from barren soil, to make for her one sleepless night after the next.
Never to its own folly, of course not. Each dawn that breaks does so on bare brick and its flocculent bosom, that trembles as a leveed brook swoll with sallow-hearted dreams; never to wake afore she must leave — to her circus, that will not cease in its absence.
How could it have? To bow to a circus.
And her its Court Fool — as she refuses the countless latesome requests of distant courtiers travelled to see it, whose dispelled, now perfunctious tributes will beget weak tithes when harvest comes; as she denies her Uncle’s renewed proposals, this time to loose her faun in the gardens and host a do-over — and let all her past suitors shoot at it.
The Spectre-Saint of Jesters-Past could not have played her better. If the prophecy isn’t false, it must be Hers. To one Lord she dismisses it, and he thinks it gives him a chance; to another she embraces it — and the Bishop’s words are taken even less true.
To whomst Cock hath seed even been blessed!?
Her faun didn’t catch itself, now did it? She did. Though her recollection of it now seems wan and waxen, and muddles her to recall it. She recounts it to herself, as if its details might slip from her, as another of her misfortunes steps before her seat.
Tin-Ting-tin-Tin. Tin-tin.
Her words as hollow to them as those wretched chimes, deeds as held in her hands as the wind that rustles them. There will be a thirteenth suitor — and she cannot accept him, no matter how dire it would be not to. No amount of chances she’s been permitted by her ancestors' laws would ever have been enough; no suitor will ever suit her.
How can they not see her fate will never be theirs?
Her body.
Her throne.
Tin-tin-Tin. Ting-tin. Tin.
Perhaps then, when the ancient rules simply run out — she can kill them all instead; turn on them her retreat, that she has fought since her line ended without her, as each step back has never sufficed, up against a march that her faun could not falter — even for a day.
Tin-ting-Ting-tin.
She feels the wall at her back. No, she could never have done—
Ting-tin-ting. Tin. Tin-tin-Ting.
“Enough!” she bellows, and is across chambers to the hearth in so few strides she could be ahorse a destrier; her shift cackling in moon-and-hearthlight, in indecisive hue. “I could have forgiven the disobeisance, but for me to have saved you, protected you, despite how useless you turn out to have been!?"
Tin-Ting-tin. Tin—
Her hands charge, to where her faun’s own tousle at a chime, to take horn-in-hand and force it face-down into the pillows, where its startled bleat is smothered.
Tih-tih-tihh.
Its curls — those have melted, in the hearthfire, drawn down to shapeless fluff. Her hands run through, from nape-to-a-scut that flickers as a wind-bitten candle. Her claws grasp at its softness in ill-restrained frets, and she rakes its short tail like a second leash, till its whole rear-self hobbles onto the tiles — till it’s presented to her, to drink in as uncorked wine.
She raises her hand.
Tihh-tih.
“You’ll learn first to be still!”
Tih.
And it falls, on her faun— Smack!
It bells without chimes, that weep dull in their cushioned grave. It scrabbles on the stone, no purchase in the Princess’ horn-hold — can but lurch out its throat, an apple bowed low on its branch, and she is a teeth-bare hound on a thread-bare leash, “Oh. I’m sorry, did that hurt?”
Smack! Smack! Tih. Tih.
“That’s much too bad,” she unsoothes, and presses into the shamed flesh; nails carving like a fork into plumpened, roasted fowl. To part the fur, to see its skin.
Smack! Tihh.
It needs to be red.
“Because you’ll need then learn to nod and to-do when I ask.
As a pleasant—”
Smack!
“And guileless—”
Smack!
“Girl—”
Smack!
“Should!”
Smack!
Tih. Tih. Tih. Tihh!
“Because this is how you’ll be treated,” she cries, and its skin glows as it sinks into pillows like hot iron; and she feels all its smith. “For nothing you can do will ever suffice.”
Her hand rises.
“So you’ll learn at last, to bow.”
Tih-tih.
And falls, and—
Ting! Tin-tin-tin.
Her wrist falls into its hand; its tail slips from her, candle-in-wind.
And the faun stills.
The Princess' chest billows its own ashen smoke to choke herself upon; she cannot look past her own nose as it twists on itself to face her — wrought cold-as-stone, buckled under her — but she sees the tears.
It sobs, far less than it should, for how sodden it all seems — pillows and fur.
And the Princess knows what it should sound like. She had hunted with her father, before his end; pleaded that until she had a brother that he simply must tutor her in the bloodied matter, lest he grow dull — and it was moreso then the length of her argument, than its merits, that won.
The felling of a doe was never a sound that left her. It is what she expects, but the faun—
It cries like a girl.
And then it’s all she can hear, and she does not understand how it could’ve been so silent.
Tin-tin. Tin.
Then she can hear the bells; fumbles at a dresser, till she seeks a stout blade and shows it.
Faded light dulls its edge, as she kneels aside and waits on it to nod, lets it bow its head — as it did when she collared it, amidst the leaves wet. Does not demand she hand it over, as she did when it collared itself — amidst its blood.
Red.
She cuts.
Tin-Tink! Tin-Tink! Tin-Tink!
Each bell tumbles to the floor, till she can cast herself and faun aside; where the crimson ribbon falls in gushes upon its hooves, and she sits across, head tipped back to the wall. There isn’t a scratch on it, but she thumbs at the blade till she’s bitten.
Trapped in this place. Fate sold to other hands, taken up in them.
You have more right to your hate, than I do mine-own throne.
Yet still, when she can at last bear to see, it looks back as only a doll can: a gaze it returns only because you have wandered into its own. Till, at merciful last, one lost bell slips from a pillow, to which it breaks — to steal and place it tentatively with the other discarded lot.
Tin.
She rises, and it lets her close.
Its horns feel petite in her hands, which slip off its seed-oiled surface. The collar sits loose around its neck, rested on upright shoulders, and sunken into so much clouded fluff she thinks it must be half the size its appears to be.
Its eyes flicker, in indecisive form.
Those pinched-square pupils, that bedecked it in ill intent, round into a pale iridescence that turns back on her the cold moonlight. Then pinch, then round; pinch-then-round; tears stall and flow; pinch-and-round, of-goat-then-girl; till it’s a blur in her skull that the Princess wants to rip out.
Her hand tumbles; doesn't realise it has fallen into the faun's own, until she squeezes on reflex and is holding the other. There are no more bells. The night stills.
Florentina closes her eyes, and they are still full of hers.
Lost, and pled to be understood. She bucks on the thought she might; retreats her hand into herself, herself — into the other chamber.
She does not sleep.
---
(Masterpost) / (Next)
originally written on cohost 22/08/2024, in respone to Making-up-Monsters' prompt:
Monster who won't do what you tell it
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New BattleMech Miniatures from Iron Wind Metals are in stock and ready to go!
20-5221 Phoenix Hawk PHX-1 / 3K 20-5222 Regent A 20-5223 Savage Wolf Prime / A
#battletech#alphastrike#ironwindmetals#battletechalphastrike#miniatures#catalystgamelabs#battlemech#battletechminiatures#battletechpaintingandcustoms#classicbattletech#miniaturewargaming#mechwarrior#mecha#gaming#boardgames#tabletop#tabletopgames#tabletopgaming#wargaming#wargames#hobby#scifi#sciencefiction#miniaturepainting#mech#6mmminis#6mmscifi#dougram#gundam#robotech
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No portrait of Henry shows him bearded; but a bearded St. George is, if anything, more strange. The core of the argument put forward in this article is that the St. George figures Henry as he appeared shortly before his death; perhaps there was a beard in those last weeks. [...] The St. George, of course, represents a much older man, but that is as it should be. There is the same long oval face, high cheek bones, long nose, and thick brown hair that we associate with Henry, but perhaps we may say worn with anxiety and sickness as he must have appeared shortly before his death. Above all, the expression on his face, and the relation between the two, the saint and the kneeling regent, seem to give this picture the character of a personal statement. If the figure of St. George is in fact Henry himself, or at any rate stands for him, the picture expresses exactly Bedford's self-dedication to the task laid upon him by his dying brother.
The Bedford Hours (BL Add MS 18850, fol. 256v (details) | Bendicta J. H. Rowe (1962) “Notes on the Clovis Miniature and the Bedford Portrait in the Bedford Book of Hours”, Journal of the British Archaeological Association, 25:1
#john duke of bedford#henry v#st. george#the bedford hours#manuscripts#historyedit#edits#historian: bendicta j. h. rowe#i don't think i fully trust the analysis but oh my god the feels#also there are a couple of bearded medieval st georges around but they do seem fairly rare
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this is too long to even try to pass off as a short wip so anyway here's a wh13 bering & wells fic i started ages ago that i don't think i'm going to finish. teehee
Reflected upside down, and faint in the low light of the warehouse was what appeared to be a head of dark hair. Miniature and warped, it could have been anyone, but it was slowly turning towards Myka, and she saw emerging, like a moon waxing gibbous, a familiar face.
A smile seemed to break across it, for a second, pulling pink and concave. It moved in a word unaccompanied by sound— but even in the warped mirror of the bowl of a spoon, she could recognize her own name.
For a second, she thought the Regents were impossibly stupid, and in that stupidity had imprisoned Helena in an artifact within the warehouse. It would have been like trying to imprison Odysseus in a wooden horse. Then she saw the label, which identified it as Emanuel Swedenborg’s cutlery set.
That raised new problems.
What she recalled about the artifact was that Swedenborg’s first out-of-body experience had been over a meal, which disappeared before him. His visionary dreams began that night. Those who handled his cutlery were, so long as they held contact with it, transported, and found themselves face to face with—
What the manual said was what they desired most. But that couldn’t be right. What mattered most to their journey, she thought, must be the case. Where they thought closure, or meaning, resided.
It would have been one of the more benign artifacts, were it not for its nasty tendency to show its users visions of their lost loved ones or long-dead idols and muses, in whose company they would inevitably choose to surrender themselves.
She was in no danger of that.
But she was, ultimately, really curious. Swedenborg’s visions had been of Heaven and Hell. Her vision was of a woman whose trapped consciousness had urged her to live without hate. Myka stared at the face in the spoon, so hard that her eyes began to hurt and her vision lost meaning to her.
Huh, she thought. Shit. I’m going to do this, aren’t I?
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Susannah Clapp, The Observer, 22 December 2024
It could scarcely be more unlikely. It could scarcely be more vivid. Dave Malloy’s Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812 takes a small slice, some 70 pages, of War and Peace and sets them to rock, klezmer, folk song and a few (for once, not too many) ballads. The result – aswirl with colour and movement, alive with decisive characterisation and rending story – brings strong new flavours to the stage.
View image in fullscreenChumisa Dornford-May and Jamie Muscato in Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812: ‘aswirl with colour and movement’. Photograph: Johan Persson
First seen off Broadway in 2012, the show is now set alight by director Tim Sheader, the new Donmar head, who made Regent’s Park alive with the sound of musicals. It teems with rarities. Even the narrative is sung: Nastasha describes herself blushing. A greater than usual number of low but aspiring voices send a Slavic rumble through the action: Cat Simmons’s dangerous sophisticate has bewitching mellow tones. With cello, clarinet and (hurrah) an accordion that is plaintive not bouncy, the sheer variety of rhythm is invigorating, inflecting. A snappy opening chorus instructs the audience to look in their programmes if they want a who’s who, but meanwhile offers clues: “Anatole is hot”. An unusual reflective number about friendship between women soars as a ballad. In despair, the music becomes an expiring sigh, like a mechanism creaking to its end.
A memory of old Russia is supplied by the waltzing figures of a soldier and his bride, who appear intermittently, masked and stiff like wooden dolls or skittles. Elsewhere – helped by costume designer Evie Gurney’s wild leather and lace and tartan and purple fur – the 21st century dances seductively with the 19th. The monumental seen in miniature.
Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 ★★★★★
#great comet#the great comet#natasha pierre and the great comet of 1812#donmar great comet#great comet London#review
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youtube
How Alexander the Great’s Tomb Was Stolen
Source: History Hit
"It remains one of the most successful and significant thefts in history. In late 321 BC, a carefully-constructed plot was put into operation that would spark years of bloody conflict between rival warlords. The target of the operation was Alexander the Great’s elaborate funeral carriage, designed as a miniature and gold-adorned mobile temple, and the conqueror’s talismanic corpse housed within.
Ptolemy and Perdiccas were at loggerheads. The former was the new governor of Egypt. The latter was the all-powerful regent of Alexander’s empire, whose authority theoretically stretched from Afghanistan to the Aegean.Both knew that war between them was all-but-inevitable. Rather than wait, Ptolemy aimed to provoke it on his terms – a pre-emptive strike. It was a huge risk, but one the governor believed he had to take if he would have any chance of victory. At the end of 321 BC, Alexander the Great’s funeral carriage was heading west from Babylon to the Mediterranean. Perdiccas, who was then stationed in Pisidi, central Anatolia, with the royal army, wanted to take the body back to Macedonia. Returning with the dead king’s body to his homeland, and with the royal army in tow, was a key part of his grand plan to seize the throne. But Ptolemy had other ideas. He wanted the body to come to Egypt, and he had prepared for this in advance. Colluding with Arrhidaeus, the general in command of the cortege’s escort, and Archon, the governor of Babylonia, they arranged to hijack the body and fatally damage Perdiccas’ grand imperial plans. In late 321 BC they put the plan in motion. Upon arriving in Syria, Arrhidaeus and the funeral cart turned south towards Egypt. The theft was on. The thieves had a head start, but speed was not a luxury afforded to them. Even with the best suspension the ancients could create, the progress of the great carriage was painfully slow. It was not long before Perdiccas received word of the cart’s new course and sent a special light-armed task force in pursuit. Its purpose: to retrieve the carriage and its precious cargo – by force if necessary. The chase was on. In this documentary, Dr Chris Naunton and Tristan Hughes discuss the events of this great heist in antiquity. Film directed by Mark Bowsher."
#alexander#alexander the great#antiquity#archeology#macedon#greece#documentary#Youtube#documentaries
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Thailand & Beijing 10 Day Trip 2011
7/15-7/24
Visas are required for US Citizens and citizens of most other countries for entry into China.
JULY 15 DEPART USA for BEIJING
Non-stop Group Flight from JFK-Beijing
JULY 16 ARRIVE BEIJING
• Meet guide at airport
• Transfer to hotel via coach with guide
• Hotel Check-in Regent Hotel
http://www.regenthotels.com
Day 1 BEIJING FULL DAY SIGHTSEEING
AM Half Day Tour: Tiananmen Square, Forbidden City
Beijing Tiananmen Square and and Forbidden City Tour Description: Tiananmen Square is the largest public square in the world. It has long been a gathering place for locals and visitors alike. On the north side of the square is Tiananmen Gate (the Rostrum). It was from the balcony of the Rostrum on October 1, 1949 where Mao Zedong, chairman of the Communist Party, proclaimed the founding of the People's Republic of China. Mao gazes south from a huge portrait on the south side of the gate onto Tiananmen Square. Behind the Rostrum lies the Forbidden City, also known as the Imperial Palace.
The Forbidden City (Imperial Palace), directly behind the Rostrum, was home to 24 emperors beginning with its creation by Emperor Yongle in 1420 until the last Qing emperor, Puyi, left in 1924. The entire complex consists of 8,706 rooms in which an estimated 8,000 to 10,000 people lived including 3,000 eunuchs, as well as maids and concubines, all within 170 acres. Behind walls more than 30 feet high and within the 160-foot moat, complex rules and rituals dictated life in the Imperial Palace. Strictly off-limits to Chinese ordinary people (hence the name) the gates today lead to a fascinating display of Chinese history in what is probably the best-preserved site of Classical Chinese architecture.
Day 2 JULY 18 Beijing Summer Palace and Urban Planning Museum Tour.
Drive to Northwest Beijing to visit The Summer Palace is one of the finest landmarks in Beijing. It has long been a royal garden and was considerably enlarged and embellished by Emperor Qianglong in the 18th century. It was later abandoned. Empress Dowager Cixi began rebuilding in 1888 using money that was supposedly reserved for the construction of a modern navy. Walk along the Long Corridor. This 728-metre long corridor is decorated with 8,000 paintings including many from the emperor-s travels around the country. The Beijing Urban Planning Museum exhibits stunning scale models of Beijing's city planning including its business districts, Olympic Village and on the third floor the entire city of Beijing in miniature and aerial photographs.
Donghuamen Night Market is the most famous street of its kind in Beijing. It is very popular with both local and international tourists.
Day 3 JULY 19 BEIJING FULL DAY GREAT WALL TOUR
We toured the Mutianyu section of the Great Wall. In order to get it this section we took a cable car.
The Mutianyu Great Wall used to serve as the northern barrier since ancient times, defending against the Huns outside the Great Wall in the north. During the Ming Dynasty, it was an important gateway for guarding the capital and the imperial mausoleums.
After our visit to the Great Wall we enjoyed a Peking Duck dinner at a local restaurant.
DAY 4 JULY 20 BEIJING BUSINESS VISITS /TRANSFER TO BANGKOK
Morning Visit to Google to learn about the business in Beijing.
Afternoon Economy flight from Beijing to Bangkok
Transfer from airport-hotel and Hotel Check-in
JULY 21 Day 4 BANGKOK
Check-in Bangkok: 4 nights Novotel Peace Hotel
JULY 22 BANGKOK CITY TOUR FULL DAY
Morning: Our coach bus took us to the Grand Palace, comprising the Funeral Palace, the Reception Palace, the Throne Hall, the Coronation Hall, the Royal Guest House, and the beautiful Emerald Buddha Temple (Wat Phra Kaew).
We then went on a Klong tour through the canals of Bangkok is the ultimate way to discover Thonburi, the old part of Bangkok. We traveled by long-tail boat through the klongs to see the family homes, temples and way of life, which gives this city the name “Venice of the East”.
We stopped at the Temple of Dawn (Wat Arun) whose 79m spire has become a symbol Bangkok.
For the Afternoon portion we visited the Jim Thompson’s magnificent Thai-style house which contains a collection of art objects and antiques. In addition to the Museum, you could relax with a coffee in the stylish café or browse the wonderful collection of silk products. It is a relaxing escape from the bustling streets of Bangkok.
We then headed to the State Tower hotel in a Tuk tuk. In Bangkok,Tuk Tuk is a motorized three-wheeled taxi.
State Tower Bangkok is known for their Lavish suites, breathtaking views, fine dining and iconic rooftop bars - experience the one and only lebua at State Tower, the best luxury hotel in Bangkok. One of the world's highest bars, Sky Bar had a starring role in the Hangover 2 movie.
When we return back to the hotel, we had a group Thai foot massage. A Thai foot massage applies pressure to particular areas of the soles of the feet. Hands, fingers, thumbs, knuckles and a rounded wooden Thai foot massage stick are used to stimulates certain areas of the feet releasing blocked energy within the body's many Sens lines (Thai-based meridians).
JULY 23 Hutchinson Ports & Pattaya
In the morning we headed to Hutchinson Ports Thailand which was 20 mins from our hotel. It is the largest container terminal operator at Laem Chabang Port, Thailand. operating ports and terminals in 25 countries worldwide. We learned about international shipping.
We then headed in the coach bus to our next destination which was 37 mins to Pattaya is located on Thailand's eastern Gulf coast, Pattaya is known as the “Hawaii of the East” for its abundant sunshine, beautiful beaches and delectable seafood. The coastline runs 15 kilometers along crystal clear water, a popular attraction for sunbathers and beach enthusiasts from all over the world.
We returned to Bangkok, to enjoy a Dinner on a boat. The food and dancers were amazing. They dance their native dance.
After dinner we went to a Muay Thai Fight at the Rajadamnern Stadium. This is a sporting arena in Bangkok, Thailand. Along with Lumpinee Boxing Stadium, Rajadamnern is one of the two main stadiums for modern muay Thai. It hosts fights every Monday, Wednesday, Thursday and Sunday. Our guide was able to get us front row seats to the fight.
JULY 24 Thai massage & Airport
I booked a Thai massage at my hotel, thee session lasts around 90 minutes. Practitioners use their entire bodies, including their hands, elbows, feet, and knees to stand, kneel, or walk on the recipient and create deep pressure.
Airport transfer Bangkok to Hong Kong 3:20pm
Check next blog post about my 3 Day Trip in Hong Kong!
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What was the name of the original London toy shop Hamleys founded in 1760?
Hamleys is the world's oldest toy store. It was founded by William Hamley as 'Noah's Ark' in High Holborn, London, in 1760. It eventually moved to its current site on Regent Street in 1881.
By 1837, the toy store had become an iconic landmark in London and received a Royal warrant. At this point, Noah's Ark was run by William’s grandsons, specialising in science kits, miniature railway train sets, pedal cars, and puppets.
From 1911, the toy store traded as Messers Hamley Bros, which was shorted to Messers Hamleys in 1920. Eventually, the brand name changed to Hamleys.
During the 1920s, Hamleys suffered financial losses, which forced them to shut down in 1931. Fortunately, the company was saved by Walter Lines who bought it that same year. When Queen Elizabeth II took the throne, she gave the toy shop another royal warrant and recalled how much she personally loved Hamleys toys as a child.
Since 1987, Hamleys has opened shops in other countries, including China, Singapore, Malaysia, the Philippines, Egypt, Jordan, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, United Arab Emirates, South Africa, and Mexico. In India, there are over 100 stores in 36 cities.
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Programmable Syringe Pumps
The programmable syringe pump is a precision dispensing component developed by Keyto, with the primary function of accurate dosing and switching between different liquid channels. The system integrates a glass tube syringe and a rotary cut valve with its control module, which provides high precision and accuracy of aspiration and discharge. It is a highly integrated, compact, and flexible precision spiking system.
Types of Programmable Syringe Pumps
Programmable Syringe Pump 5A33/5A66
Programmable Syringe Pump 5A33/5A66
A precision sampling component R&D by Keyto. Integrated glass syringe and rotary valve, also with control PCB. It has 30 Travel Distance, 60 Travel Distance to optional.
READ MORE
Multi Channel Syringe Pump Assembly
Multi Channel Syringe Pump Assembly
Multi Channel Syringe Pump Assembly developed by Keyto based on pneumatic pipetting technology for automatically aspirating and dispensing with different sizes of disposable tips. They are especially suitable for use in highly integrated automation equipment.
READ MORE
PRODUCTS
Liquid Handling And Transfer Components
Air Displacement Pipettes
Programmable Syringe Pumps
Programmable Syringe Pump 5A33/5A66
Multi Channel Syringe Pump Assembly
Rotary Shear Valves
Syringe Pumps / Piston Pumps
Valve Integrated Syringe Pumps & Valve within Pump
Micro Solenoid Valves
Miniature Diaphragm Pumps
Microfludic & Consumables
Working Principle of Programmable Syringe Pumps
01
Programmable syringe pump basically contains a PCBA, a stepper motor driven transmision, one syring, one rotoary valve head and a housing.
02
The PCBA will control each stepper motor to control the syringe to achieve different regent pumping flow and to control the rotary valve to change the flow path direction.
What is The Difference Between Infusion Pump and Syringe Pump?
The differences between infusion pump and syringe pump are as follows:
First of all, infusion pump is generally called volume pump, the main purpose is to replace the traditional gravity bottle infusion, to achieve the purpose of more accurate and safer drug delivery.
Injection pump is also known as microinfusion pump, from the name can be roughly seen, injection pump is the main purpose of the volume of infusion pump in the microprescription surface of a supplement. Because, microinfusion pump (also known as syringe pump) in small doses compared with the general volume infusion pump for a higher accuracy.
Second, compared with syringe pump, infusion pump has the advantages of larger capacity, wider flow rate range, fewer restrictions on liquid types, cheaper consumables, low drug concentration and less irritation, and easier to achieve needle running alarm and infusion heating functions.
Third, compared with the infusion pump, the advantages of the syringe pump are: the small volume of drug delivery accuracy is higher, the dispensing capacity is more flexible, it is easier to solve the table placement, the flow rate pulsation is smaller, etc
What is The Difference Between Infusion Pump and Syringe Pump?
FAQs of Programmable Syringe Pumps
What is the purpose of syringe pump?
This precision syringe pump is developed by Keyto and its main function is to achieve precision sampling and reagent dispensing. It has high a precision and accuracy of liquid aspiration and dispensing It has been widely used in the field of medical devices and laboratory analytical instruments.
What are the three steps in loading the syringe pump?
1. connect regent and syringe pump with tube/connectors.
2. Turn on the power switch
3. Connect communication of your syringe pump with the PCBA.
Why do we need a syringe pump?
1.High precision, can be reached 1%, support various specifications of syringes volume, ranging from 100ul-10ml volume;
2.Multiple media can enter the syringe at the same time, without cross contamination;
3.Piston structure, zero dead volume;
4.High degree of integration, small volume, more space saving than the traditional component valve;
5.Glass syringe and rotary valve are integrated, users can select and switch the liquid channel according to different application scenarios;
With control module, can save user development time, improve the progress of product development, users according to the needs, input the corresponding instructions, can realize the corresponding function.
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"OH, MY-- quite the bite you have there."
the demon prince's feathers fluff and his tail fans out slightly at the sharp prick of fangs piercing his flesh; his owlish head makes a full turn on his neck to familiarise himself with the tiny creature nipping at him, her face full of his silky feathers; a nephilim, no less. astounding power contained in such a miniature vessel, a rather ... charming trend in hell, to pack a punch in a smaller package. his mind immediately goes to his most esteemed regent, and he lets out an amused hoot at the thought, long talons reaching to pat her head gently.
"now, now. you've had quite enough of that - but you might find cannibal town more to your taste."
She sneaks up from behind the Goetian, her demon form revealing her barbed tail wagging with excitement. As silently as possible, she reveals her sharp canines and chomps on his feathery shoulder.
#siempreminta#[he likes it]#[helps with ... blood circulation or something lmao]#[chewsday shenanigans.]
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