#Tesla meter

[mpcomagnetics]

Comprehensive Guide to Magnetic Performance Testing

Comprehensive Guide to Magnetic Performance Testing Do you know that the performance of your sintered NdFeB magnets can make or break your high tech applications? Learn the latest techniques to get top quality and reliability. Magnetic Performance Standards How do manufacturers guarantee every NdFeB magnet meets the performance standards? What are the new methods to measure magnetic properties…

[magneticproduct]

Tesla Meter Magnetic Products for Industrial Applications: Monitoring and Safety

In today's industrial landscape, monitoring and ensuring safety in magnetic fields is of paramount importance. The use of tesla meter magnetic products has revolutionized the way we measure and control magnetic fields in various industrial settings. From manufacturing facilities to power plants, these advanced instruments provide accurate measurements, enabling professionals to maintain a safe working environment. This blog post explores the significance of tesla meter magnetic products in industrial applications and highlights their role in monitoring and ensuring safety.

Understanding Magnetic Fields in Industrial Settings

Industrial settings often involve the presence of magnetic fields generated by machinery, electrical equipment, or the manufacturing process itself. While magnetic fields are essential for many operations, they can also pose potential risks to workers and equipment if not properly monitored and controlled. Understanding the characteristics of these magnetic fields is crucial for maintaining a safe work environment.

The Role of Tesla Meter Magnetic Products

Tesla meter magnetic products, such as magnetic field meters and gaussmeters, play a vital role in monitoring and quantifying magnetic fields. These instruments accurately measure the strength and direction of magnetic fields, allowing professionals to assess potential hazards and take appropriate safety measures. Tesla meters enable real-time monitoring, ensuring continuous surveillance of magnetic field levels.

Safety Regulations and Compliance

Government agencies and industry standards organizations have established safety regulations and guidelines regarding magnetic field exposure in industrial settings. Tesla meter magnetic products are designed to comply with these regulations and provide accurate data for assessing compliance. By utilizing these instruments, industrial operators can ensure that their operations align with safety standards and protect the well-being of their employees.

Application Areas 

Tesla meter magnetic products find applications in various industrial sectors. Here are a few examples:

a. Manufacturing Industry: Magnetic fields are prevalent in manufacturing processes, especially in metalworking, automotive, and electronics industries. Tesla meter magnetic products are used to measure magnetic field strengths near machinery and equipment, identifying potential hazards and implementing safety measures.

b. Power Generation and Distribution: Power plants and electrical substations generate strong magnetic fields. Tesla meters are employed to monitor these fields, ensuring worker safety and preventing equipment malfunctions caused by excessive magnetic exposure.

c. Medical Facilities: Magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) machines produce powerful magnetic fields. Tesla meters are used to calibrate and ensure the safety of MRI equipment, preventing any adverse effects on patients or medical staff.

d. Research and Development: In scientific laboratories, tesla meter magnetic products aid in the characterization of magnetic materials and the measurement of magnetic field strengths for various experiments.

Conclusion:

Tesla meter magnetic products have become indispensable tools for monitoring and ensuring safety in industrial settings. By providing accurate measurements of magnetic fields, these instruments enable professionals to take proactive measures, minimize risks, and protect both workers and equipment. Whether in manufacturing, power generation, medical facilities, or research and development, tesla meter magnetic products play a crucial role in maintaining a safe working environment. As technology advances, these instruments will continue to evolve, providing more precise measurements and further enhancing industrial safety standards.

PERMAG Products is a leading supplier of tesla meter, and we are committed to providing our customers with the highest quality products available on the market. Thanks to our state-of-the-art manufacturing process, we can produce magnetic rods that meet the most stringent quality standard.

[prosolarcentralflorida]

Renewable energy solutions - ProSolar Central Florida

In the heart of Central Florida, where sunshine reigns supreme, ProSolar Central Florida is on a mission to power a sustainable future. With a dedication to renewable energy solutions, they are illuminating homes and businesses with clean, eco-friendly power. In this article, we'll explore how ProSolar Central Florida is leading the charge in making Central Florida a hub for sustainable energy solutions.

I. Central Florida's Sustainable Energy Revolution

Abundant Sunshine: Central Florida boasts an abundance of sunlight, making it an ideal region for harnessing solar energy.

Environmental Awareness: Residents are increasingly recognizing the importance of sustainability and reducing their carbon footprint.

II. ProSolar Central Florida: Your Renewable Energy Partner

Sustainability Pioneers: ProSolar Central Florida brings a wealth of experience and expertise in renewable energy solutions.

Comprehensive Services: They offer a wide range of services, from solar panel installations to energy storage solutions, tailored to diverse energy needs.

III. Benefits of Renewable Energy Solutions

Clean and Sustainable: Renewable energy solutions, particularly solar power, provide a clean and eco-friendly source of electricity.

Energy Savings: Central Florida residents can significantly reduce their energy bills by adopting renewable energy solutions.

IV. The Installation Process

Customized Solutions: ProSolar Central Florida designs personalized renewable energy systems, matching each customer's energy consumption and property requirements.

Professional Installation: Their experienced technicians ensure a seamless and efficient installation of solar panels and energy storage systems.

V. Environmental Responsibility

Reduced Carbon Footprint: The adoption of renewable energy aligns with the mission to reduce greenhouse gas emissions and combat climate change.

Local Sustainability: Widespread use of renewable energy supports cleaner and more sustainable local environments.

VI. Financial Benefits

Federal Incentives: ProSolar Central Florida assists clients in leveraging federal incentives and tax credits for renewable energy installations.

Long-Term Savings: Renewable energy solutions offer long-term financial benefits by reducing energy costs and providing a strong return on investment.

VII. Technological Advancements

Cutting-Edge Technology: ProSolar Central Florida stays at the forefront of renewable energy technology, implementing the latest advancements to maximize energy production.

Energy Storage: They also offer state-of-the-art energy storage solutions, allowing homeowners and businesses to store excess renewable energy for use during peak times or power outages.

VIII. Conclusion

ProSolar Central Florida isn't just in the business of installing solar panels; they're illuminating the path to a cleaner, more sustainable, and financially advantageous energy future for Central Florida. By reducing energy costs, promoting clean energy adoption, and helping homeowners and businesses reduce their carbon footprint, they are shaping a brighter and more prosperous Central Florida. With ProSolar Central Florida, Central Florida's energy future is not just brighter; it's more sustainable than ever. Trust in ProSolar Central Florida for a greener and more sustainable tomorrow.

[ecoeconomicepochs]

Zero point, over unity energy reveal June 6th

on the EE Electrical Engineering front, on June 6th @ National Press Club, Dr. Stephen Greer is supposed to demonstrate live the zero point, over unity energy device described in this video: https://youtu.be/dxqUpOvg5Is #zeropoint #overunity #energy

Variation of what Dr. #Greer #CSETI is demonstrating on June 6th in front of the NPC National Press Club ? #energy #ZeroPointEnergy #overunity #electricity https://twitter.com/i/status/1641405096553586688

#electricity #energy #zeropoint #overunity #Tesla #Wardencliff

[reality-detective]

GWEN TOWERS

GWEN (Ground Wave Emergency Network) allows specific frequencies to be tailored to the geomagnetic-field strength in each area, allowing the magnetic field to be altered.

They are connected to HAARP, smart meters, cell phones, WIFI etc...

"GWEN (Ground Wave Emergency Network) transmitters, placed 200 miles apart across the USA, allow specific frequencies to be tailored to the geomagnetic-field strength in each area, allowing the magnetic field to be altered.

They operate in the VLF range, with transmissions between VLF 150 and 175 KHz. They also emit UHF waves of 225 – 400 MHz.

The VLF signals travel by waves that hug the ground rather than radiate into the atmosphere. A GWEN station transmits up to a 300-mile radius, the signal dropping off sharply over distance.

The entire GWEN system consists of, (depending on source of data), from 58 to an intended 300 transmitters, spread across the USA, each with a tower 299-500 ft high.

Three hundred (300) ft. of copper wire fans out in a spoke like fashion from the base of the underground system, interacting with the earth like a thin shelled conductor, radiating radio wave energy for very long distances through the ground.

The USA bathes in this magnetic field which rises to 500 ft, even going down to basements, so everyone is subject to mind control.

The whole artificial ground wave spreads out over USA like a web. It is easier to mind-control and hypnotize

people who are bathed in an artificial electromagnetic wave."

Research: Gwen towers❓

Everything you need to know about GWEN towers: 👇

Knowledge is Power 🤔

[cosmicportal]

Nikola Tesla's 1st Electric Car in 1918 Regenerated Electricity from it's surroundins.

This is Nikola Tesla's 1921 Pierce-Arrow electric car, powered by pure etheric electricity. It is a self-charging car; it does not run on batteries, oil, or gas.

Electric cars have been around much

In 1931, Nikola Tesla presented and tested a new automobile. Tesla had developed it with his own personal funds.

The motor had been removed, leaving the clutch, gearbox and transmission to the rear wheels uninterrupted. The power receiver (gravity energy converter) had been built by Tesla himself. It was installed in front of the control panel. A heavy antenna, approximately 1.8 meters long, protruded from the converter. This antenna apparently had the function as that of the moray converter (radiant energy!).

"Now we have power," said Tesla? he said there was enough power in the converter to light an entire house, plus run the car's motor. The car was tested for a week, reaching a top speed of 144 km per hour effortlessly. Someone commented that no gases were coming out of the tailpipe. Nikola Tesla replied, "We have no motor."

[dagaz-s-disastrous-descent]

I had to make this post or I'd explode. Death Korps of Krieg and Vostroyan Firstborn are really similar, yet they show how your experiences shape you as a person.

Lets start with the Krieg boys and girls. They are a uniquely dour bunch that are willing to give their lives just to buy some time for their allies or to gain mere meters of ground in prolonged conflict. Contrary to what popular memes will make you believe they are not suicidal (hell during the Vraks conflict there is one recored instance of krieg soldiers executing their commissar because he ordered a suicide charge on enemy positions), they and their generals just see themselves as assets to be spent atoning for sins of their past. In one of the best books from 40k verse i've ever read "Dead men walking" it's portrayed briantly. Local populations inducted into DKoK regiments are stripped of their personalities and made to forget their names, their past lives and faces of their brothers and sisters to turn them into perfect meat shields ready to kill and die for smallest of advantages. Honestly, that book was brutal and it showed how dehumanising the training regime Kriegans go through really is, and to think that they are shipped off to active war zones at the age of (at most) 16 is really horrifying.

Now, about Vostroya: they too are spending their lives atoning for the sins of their forefathers; they too are a siege regiment focused on CQB and positional warfare; and they too have cool gas masks. Yet, despite all of those similarities, they could not be more different. While DKoK needs commissars just to talk with other members of the Empire because they are so devoid of common humanity, others simply feel uneasy around them. Vostroyans are one big family, ready to kill and die for each other. They are the firstborn sons and daughters of their world, being welcomed into the regiment by their aunts and uncles, who are taking care of them and keeping an eye on them on the battlefields of the dangerous galaxy of the 40k's universe. Their distant brothers and sisters prepare mastercrafted equipment, knowing fully well that the lasguns they create will be used by their kin. They are fanatical to the point of madness and their effectiveness is on par of that of the Dead Korps of krieg yet their attrition rate is much, much lower, and I think that it's not only owed to differences in equipment but also to the fact that they are loyal not only to the empire but also to each other. After all, blood is thicker than water.

Now a word about irl inspirations for both regiments: contrary to popular belief DKoK are based off FRENCH soldiers of WW1, not Germans and no, they do not use shovels more than any other regiments. A mace is a much better weapon in trench warfare because shovels have a nasty tendency to getting stuck in things that go squish. Vostroyans are a blend of cossacks, russian streltsi, Polish nobility, and professional soldiers of XVIIth century, as well as a healthy dose of Nikola Tesla-inspired dieselpunk. It's criminal how underrepresented slavs are in popular sci-fi IP's btw.

[materialsscienceandengineering]

SI Derived Units: Magnetic Flux Density and the Tesla

Magnetic fields are often described in terms of the magnetic flux density, of which the named SI derived unit for is the tesla. The name is in honor of Nikola Tesla and was announced in 1960. One tesla is commonly referred to as one weber per square meter, but in base SI units it is equivalent to 1 kg s^−2 A^-1. Magnetic flux density is typically symbolized with a capital B, and the tesla unit with a capital T. In CGS units, 1 T is equivalent to 10^4 gauss.

Sources/Further Reading: (Wikipedia: Tesla, Magnetic Fields) (Metric System)

Image source.

[girlactionfigure]

🔘 Wednesday - ISRAEL REALTIME - Connecting to Israel in Realtime

▪️HUMAN RIGHTS WATCH REPORT - HAMAS COMMITTED A SYSTEMATIC ASSAULT AGAINST CIVILIANS.. The report condemned what the rights organization said were various war crimes and crimes against humanity, including “deliberate and indiscriminate attacks against civilians,” the use of civilians as human shields, and cruel and inhumane treatment, finding Hamas complicit with Oct. 7 war crimes. https://www.hrw.org/news/2024/07/17/october-7-crimes-against-humanity-war-crimes-hamas-led-groups

.. HAMAS - NO WE DIDN’T.. “We reject the lies contained in the Human Rights Watch report, the blatant bias for Israel and the lack of professionalism and credibility, and demand they withdraw it and apologize for it.​​​​“

▪️HEZBOLLAH THREATENS.. “The first step will be the launch of about 10,000 thousand missiles to military targets as far as south Israel. The second stage the Air Force is disabled. The third stage is a ground invasion towards settlements near the fence, killing and taking hostages.”

▪️HEZBOLLAH LEADER SAYS.. “fighting is a custom and honor (for us) martyrdom (is) from god."

▪️SMUGGLING TUNNELS.. The IDF believes it will take many more months to complete the search for Hamas's cross-border smuggling tunnels along the Gaza-Egypt border. So far, around 25 tunnels have been located. Combat engineers are currently meticulously sweeping the entire Gaza-Egypt border area in Rafah, while expanding the Philadelphi border corridor by demolishing structures within about 800 meters of the border.

▪️SICK CRIME & RUMORS.. a mother killed her young son yesterday in some kind of mental break. Rumors immediately swirled that the mother was a survivor of the Oct. 7 massacre. Bituach Leumi: this is untrue.

▪️SOCIETAL CONFLICT.. Last night a bus of soldiers returning from Gaza was, weirdly, diverted through Meah Shearim, the most ultra of ultra-orthodox neighborhoods in Israel. On seeing a bus of soldiers, the locals began to harass and pelt the bus - perhaps assuming they are coming to haul them away to the army.

▪️PROTEST - ANTI-ATTORNEY GENERAL.. Activists of the "If You Want" movement came this morning to demonstrate in front of the home of the Legal Adviser to the Government, Gali Beharev-Mara, in protest of the normalization of violations of public order.

▪️WHY NOT MORE ULTRA-ORTHODOX CONSCRIPTIONS? Foreign Affairs and Defense Committee Knesset members ask why the IDF doesn’t issue conscription orders to all yeshivas students of age? The IDF replies: "The conscription bureau doesn't know how to take in more." (( The IDF for years avoiding creating programs for this segment of society. ))

▪️NO CYBERTRUCKS FOR ISRAEL? The Ministry of Transport forbids Tesla's Cybertruck, to be tested or driven on Israeli roads. The amazing reason - the vehicle is (lightly) bulletproof. In Israel, a special permit is required to import a bulletproof vehicle, and the Cybertruck did not receive such a permit.

⭕ OVER 80 ROCKETS FIRED BY HEZBOLLAH towards Mt. Meron and surrounding areas last night, another 15+ FIRED AT NAHARIYA area.

♦️COUNTER-TERROR OPS - JENIN.. Arab channels show apparent special forces operating in Jenin with firefights.

♦️COUNTER-TERROR OPS - KALKILYA.. Firefight.

♦️SIGNIFICANT TARGETED AIRSTRIKES in CENTRAL GAZA overnight.

[renjunplanet]

Você Vai de Limusine, Eu Vou de Trem... | Zhong Chenle

chenle nunca foi de se rebelar, mas ele se meteria em todas as presepadas possiveis só para te reencontrar mais uma vez.

notas. menção a acidente, pp "motoboy", chenle meio bobinho, muitas palavras de baixo calao e MUITAS PALAVRAS NO GERAL ME EMPOLGUEI pode ter algumas inconsistências e furo de roteiro pq eu nunca escrevi algo tao grande. primeira fic da série rapazis, pode nao ta tudo aquilo, mas vida que segue, tem referencias as outras fics ioba

Virada de sexta-feira para sábado, o relógio indicando exatas 23:57 horas com os números digitais, o carro conversível a algumas ruas de distância e a chuva forte do lado de fora agredindo as telhas da delegacia trazia um tchan a mais no cenário desagradável que Zhong Chenle estava.

— Já tentou acionar o seguro, garoto? — o policial, que Chenle havia apelidado de "Mustache", pergunta com uma carranca daquelas por detrás do bigode enorme.

— E-Eu tô tentando falar com meus pais, senhor...

— Então anda logo que eu não tenho todo tempo do mundo.

Um sorrisinho nervoso saiu do rapaz, que se tremia todo de medo.

Chenle nunca fora alguém de se meter em burradas ou em rebeldias impulsivas, na real Chenle gostava da vida tranquila que levava. Três semestres de curso de advocacia na melhor universidade do estado, uma cachorrinha com quem poderia compartilhar sonhos, uns dois ou três amigos com quem saía as sextas-feiras a noite para beber e quem sabe se aventurar com alguma garota que achou bonita no dia.

Tudo em perfeita harmonia, sem necessidade de se meter em encrenca ou de sujar o nome com alguma passagem pela polícia.

Park Jisung, que já era meio revoltado com a família, que o fez cair nessa burrada. Apostar racha? Num dia chuvoso? Puta merda, Jisung, que ideia de girico!

Durante a corrida Chenle se sentiu livre, selvagem. Gostou de sentir a sensação de quebrar regras e deixar o lado bom moço ir embora. A adrenalina passando pelas veias, os pingos de chuvas se acumulando em pequenos fluxos de água no visor assim que acelerava ainda mais o Tesla branco — que havia ganhado assim que fez 20 anos —, sentia a euforia se misturar com as luzes da cidade, quase que literalmente.

Ele bateu num poste.

Não sabia dizer a causa certa do acidente, se era por causa da moto que tentou desviar no meio da corrida ou se era porque foi burro o suficiente para não freiar o carro com antecedência.

Mas sabia dizer que por algum milagre divino não morreu, nem ele e nem o motoqueiro que estava caído a uns 10 metros dele.

Só lembra de ver o corpo magro vir na direção dele, pela rigidez do corpo e a maneira como andava mancando a passos pesados, saberia que o dono da magrela — que agora estava só o pó da rabiola — viria tirar satisfação com ele e, além de bater num poste e perder o carro, levaria uma surra de um cara manco.

— Tá maluco, caralho?! Olha a merda que você fez!

E depois de vários xingamentos voltamos para o cenário atual, um Zhong Chenle tremendo que nem o pinscher da vó dele por causa do medo que subia dos pés a cabeça.

Porra, nunca foi de incomodar os pais por motivos tão fúteis. A única vez que as autoridades ligaram para o pai de Chenle foi quando ele se perdeu no meio do povo na Time Square. Sorte a dele que tinha um guardinha ali por perto e que lembrava de cor o telefone do pai.

Não tinha coragem. Não tinha coragem de avisar para os pais a merda que fez e não tinha coragem de não avisar para os pais a merda que fez.

Nossa, eram tantas opções...

Num pulo, Chenle virou bruscamente para trás ao sentir uma mão pousar sob um de seus ombros.

Mustache o encarava com a mesma carranca que tinha quando estava do outro lado da mesa, agora de frente para ele. O policial aponta em direção ao motoqueiro do outro lado da delegacia, que finalmente tinha conseguido desencaixar o capacete que havia ficado preso durante o acidente.

— Sua amiga ali quer dar uma palavrinha com você, garoto.

Amiga? Não era um homem?

Como se estivesse em um filme, Chenle vê um dos policiais mais parrudos da delegacia puxar com tudo o capacete da cabeça da garota que antes Chenle quase mandou para conhecer Jesus.

O rosto delicado carrancudo, com os cabelos bagunçado caindo aos poucos sob os ombros, a forma como o olhar dela queimava a pele de Chenle.

De repente ele voltou para uma hora atrás, antes de bater com tudo no poste.

Puta merda, se não fosse pela carinha franzida de desgosto e como aquela expressão fazia Chenle ficar com os rabos entre as pernas, Zhong poderia jurar que ouviu a flechada do cupido repartir o coração dele em dois.

Depois do parrudão sair de perto e receber um joinha da garota, ela volta a olhar para o causador de toda a desgraça. Trocam por alguns segundos uns olhares, ela com a iris queimando voracidade tal qual um predador e Chenle com os olhos amassadinhos por causa do sorriso invertido que dava para ela — parecia um coelhinho prestes a ser comido por um lobo muito, muito mal.

A mãozinha dela dá um sinal para Chenle se aproximar, bobo e receoso, ele vai até o lugar onde a cobra dá o bote.

Assim que viu um dos braços dela se erguer, Chenle se encolheu tanto que nem parecia que tinha 1,80.

— Tá todo encolhido por que ein, Playboy? — o tom amargo dela com certeza não combinava com o rosto.

Chenle abriu um dos olhos, vendo ela com a mão esticada em sua direção. Zhong apenas a observou com uma grande e aparente confusão na cara.

— Hã?

— "Hã" o que, bonitinho? Acha que vai me fazer sofrer um acidente, perder minha magrela e minha maior fonte de renda sem sofrer as consequências? Eu quero a minha indenização, porra! — se Chenle tremia que nem a cadelinha da vó dele, ela rosnava igual a cachorrinha.

— Mas...

— Mas o que? — as sobrancelhas dela se juntaram ainda mais uma na outra, Chenle poderia jurar que por uma fração de segundos viu elas se embolarem uma na outra.

— N-Nada...

— Bom saber.

— Ei, crianças. Já pararam de discutir ai? Ou vou ter que ficar mais três horas esperando vocês se resolverem?

— Tá tudo certo aqui. O Playboy disse que vai pagar o concerto da minha magrela.

— Eu vou?

— Sim, você vai.

— Mas-

— Mas o que?

— Nada... — desistiu de novo.

— Que fique bem claro que a indenização ficou em troca de eu ter te tirado do seu carrinho da barbie e por eu ter ficado com a cabeça presa dentro daquele capacete fedorento. — o dedo indicador dela ficou bem posicionado no rosto de Chenle — E nada mais do que justo você pagar o concerto da magrela, já que se não fosse por essas manias de boy de ficar apostando racha eu não 'taria toda lascada.

— Desculpa...

— Só vai ser desculpado depois de arrumar minha moto, bonitinho.

— Garoto, fizesse o que eu te pedi? — Mustache surge novamente, com as mãos na cintura tal qual uma mãe quando vê que o filho não lavou a louça.

— Não, senhor...

— E por que não, rapaz?!

— É que eu tenho que ligar pro meu pai e-

— Puta merda, tá enrolando esse tempo todo por causa de uma ligação. É só ligar, homê! — o policial se retira em completa indignação e volta para o lugar anterior.

Chenle apenas sorri amarelo.

— Ei, florzinha. — ela chama bem baixinho o rapaz que estava quase colapsando — Sei que começamos com o pé esquerdo, mas não precisa ficar tão nervoso assim. Tenho certeza que a poça que tá se formando aqui não é da goteira e sim do seu suor, tu precisa relaxar.

— É mesmo? Não me diga... — um risinho estranho sai dele, ainda com a expressão dura.

— Assim, liga pro seu pai e conta o que aconteceu. Só que omite umas coisinhas aqui e acolá, mas menos a parte do dinheiro da magrela, eu preciso desse dinheiro! — ela diz com firmeza, deixando bem claro o que quer e o que vai cobrar se não for cumprido — Fala pra ele que você tava voltando pra casa, chuva tava forte, deu problema no carro, pá e pum. Você sofreu um acidente, veio parar na delegacia e agora tem que me garantir uma indenização pra eu poder voltar a trabalhar, simples.

Chenle apenas a observou incrédulo.

— Que foi? Prefere dizer que tava apostando racha e quase me matou? Aproveita que eu to sendo boazinha, seu jaguara. Se não eu mesma ligava pro teu pai e falava tudo o que cê fez.

— Bom, não tenho escolha, não é mesmo?

— Não tem.

— Ah... Lá vou eu...

[...]

Depois de resolver algumas papeladas e garantir o seguro do carro, Chenle agora estava do lado de fora da delegacia, esperando o pai finalizar o que tinha para assim poderem ir para casa.

Sente o cheiro amargo de cigarro fazer presença junto do geladinho da recém madrugada de sábado. Reconhecera de cara a roupa da pessoa que estava ao seu lado.

— Espero que não esqueça meu concerto, Playboy. — ela diz o olhando de relance, após soltar a fumaça da tragada que deu anteriormente no fumo — Preciso com urgência da minha moto, se não eu fico sem com o que trabalhar...

— Assim, sem querer ser metido, você trabalha com o que?

A cara dela expressando um "Sério?" fez Chenle se sentir, talvez, um pouquinho estúpido.

— Você não viu a caixa enorme vermelha que eu tava carregando nas costas? — o rapaz apenas nega com a cabeça — Garoto, eu trabalho de motoboy!

— Ah...

— "Ah" o que? — ela o ameaça de novo.

— Nada... — a voz sai bem aguda.

Uma tragada e um silêncio momentâneo.

— Enfim, deixa o teu contato comigo pra gente se falar.

— Ah, é. — procura o celular entre os bolsos da jaqueta e não encontra nada — Puta merda, acho que deixei o celular no carro.

— Oxe e como tu ligou pro teu pai?

— Usei o telefone da delegacia, óbvio.

— Justo. — acenou com a cabeça, tragando o cigarro mais uma vez.

— Você tá com seu celular ai?

— Tô. — entrega o celular para ele.

— Isso é um celular Jellypop*? — Chenle pergunta perplexo.

— Eu sei lá, é? — ela o encara sem entender bulhufas do que ele tá dizendo — Que que tem?

— Garota, esse telefone é da época da minha vó, ultrapassado demais!

— Oxe, problema meu. Vai passar teu número pra mim ou vai ficar se fazendo, barbie girl?

— Nossa eu não faço ideia de como que mexe num treco desses.

— Dá aqui, dá. Tu gosta de dificultar as coisas — puxa com tudo o aparelho da mão dele — Vai ditando que eu vou escrevendo.

Chenle concorda com ela e lhe diz o número de contato.

— E o seu nome?

— Zhong Chenle.

— Saúde.

— Que?

— Nada. — ela suspira — Como que escreve isso?

— "Dá aqui, dá". — ele diz com uma voz mais fininha e a garota o encara indignada pela imitação terrível — Aqui. — devolve o celular.

— Meu senhor, que nome difícil. — ela guarda o telefone novamente, dando mais uma tragada no cigarro barato.

— Pro seu governo, meu nome tem um significado muito-

— Vamos, Lele? — o Zhong mais velho surge no cenário, quebrando na hora o raciocínio do filho.

— Ah, pai... — Chenle varia o olhar entre a fumante, que tinha uma expressão de desdém, e o pai que já estava na porta do carro — Bem, eu já vou. Boa noite.

Chenle se despede de uma maneira desengonçada, correndo até a porta do passageiro do carro caro. Antes de entrar escuta a voz da garota reverberar sobre seus ouvidos, num tom debochado, assim como o sorriso que viu de relance quando o pai deu partida no automóvel.

"Boa noite, Lele."

— Puta que pariu, Chenle.

Algjmas horas depois da grande encrenca que Zhong se meteu, ele se encontrava sábado a tarde na casa do amigo para tirar satisfação do ocorrido. Por que ele sumiu? Onde ele estava quando Chenle sofreu o acidente? Por que ele não retornou as ligações que Chenle fez assim que chegou em casa depois de sair da delegacia?

1.) Park Jisung sumiu para se resolver com a namorada psicótica dele depois de brigarem pelo telefone no meio do racha.

2.) Park Jisung estava se resolvendo com a namorada na casa dela.

3.) Park Jisung estava ocupado demais para atender o telefone, já que estava resolvendo o problema com a namorada dele, na cama dela.

— Não acredito que você fudeu com seu carro todo. Porra aquele Tesla era bonitão.

— Jisung, deixa de ser um mala por pelo menos 5 segundos. EU QUASE MORRI.

— Quem manda ser maria-vai-com-as-outras, se tivesse negado como as outras vezes não teria acabado com seu carro. — um dos amigos inconvenientes de Jisung se junta na roda de conversa sem convite.

Pelo amor...

— O problema não é só meu carro também, né. Fodi com a moto da menina no acidente sem querer e agora tô morrendo de vergonha...

— Ih... Vergonha por que, Zhong? Ela era gatinha? — o cara chato leva um tapão estalado vindo de Jisung.

Coitado ficaria por um mês dolorido naquela região.

— Não fode, Lucas. Não tem o que fazer, não? Tu não tinha marcado de sair com a tua mina ou algo assim?

— Ah, ela tá de boa em casa.

— E por que não trouxe ela, cara? — Jisung pergunta com o cenho franzido estranhando a situação.

— Deixa minha princesinha quietinha na dela. Ela não é do tipo que curte isso. — Lucas diz isso de uma maneira, talvez, esnobe.

Chenle só fez revirar os olhos. Lucas sempre foi assim, um cara inconveniente e fútil pra caralho, nem sabe como um cara desses tinha uma namorada. Ou a lábia era muito boa, ou a coitada era muito estúpida.

— Se eu fosse você abria o olho, se continuar deixando sua mina de lado, algum espertinho rouba ela de você facinho.

— Zhong, faz favor. Fica na sua. — Lucas fala, se retirando com uma garrafinha de cerveja na mão indo para o outro lado da casa de Jisung.

Apesar de Chenle ter ido tirar satisfação com Jisung, ele meio que acabou indo numa péssima hora. Festas na casa de Park sempre fora algo muito comum, mas ultimamente tem sido com muita frequência. Vamos lá, sábado a tarde, de bobeira, por sorte a chuva anterior aliviou-se e o solzão era muito convidativo. Jisung não aguentou, ele precisava fazer uma particular na piscina, só com os amigos mais chegados ou com alguns penetras tipo Lucas, principalmente depois da noite feliz que ele — e somente ele — teve ontem.

— Porra, pior que agora que eu me toquei que eu não tenho o número dela e não faço ideia de qual seja seu nome.

— Mas tu não falou que ela tinha pedido teu contato e tudo mais?

— Sim, ela pediu meu contato. Mas eu esqueci de pedir o dela. Maldita hora que eu esqueci o telefone...

— Você disse que ela trabalha como entregadora, se pá, se você procurar bem você acha ela em algum desses restaurantes.

— Jisung, eu não vou perder meu tempo procurando por uma garota de 20 anos em restaurante e restaurante, isso é loucura.

— E a oficina onde deixaram teu carro e a moto dela? Não tem o contato dela lá?

— Nossa verdade, eu esqueci.

— Po, mas tu também é burro.

— Cala a boca.

[...]

Não, não tinha o contato dela na oficina.

Na real não quiseram passar o contato para Chenle.

Mas o destino parecia querer cruzar o caminho dos dois, já que coincidentemente bem quando Zhong havia desistido de encontrá-la, os dois se tombaram na entrada da oficina.

— Ih, Playboy. Tá fazendo o que aqui?

Tava te procurando.

Foi o que ele pensou.

— Vim dar uma checada no carro...

— Ah, sim.

— E você?

— Vim dar uma checada na minha mosca.

— Mosca?

— É. É o nome da minha moto.

— Que nome horrível.

— Rapaz, você se chama Chenle, fica na sua.

— Olha aqui-

— Seu pai me mandou um recado falando pra mim vim aqui ver como que tava indo, o que tinha pra arrumar e pá.

— Ué, como que ele falou contigo.

— Ontem quando você tava ocupado em depressão do lado de fora da delegacia seu pai me pediu meu número pra ele avisar sobre os procedimentos e tal que a magrela ia passar.

— Tá bom... Mas se você tinha o contato do meu pai por que pediu o meu?

Um sorrisinho sarcástico surge no rosto dela, os olhinhos olhando o rapaz de cima baixo e a aura intensamente sexual que ela emanava fez Chenle se arrepiar pelo corpo inteiro.

— Descubra...

Passado um mês e meio depois do incidente, neste período de tempo Chenle e a "motoboy" haviam trocado alguns momentos um pouco estranhos, se podemos assim dizer.

Sabe, da situação problema que tiveram até uma amizade sólida foi um caminho um tanto engraçado de ser percorrido. Principalmente com os flertes e a lábia malandra da garota para cima de Chenle — que durante o tempo de convivência acabou descobrindo que ela só dava em cima dele para o incomodar.

Chenle chegou a apresentar ela para Jisung em um dia que estavam de bobeira e com um calor infernal pertubando-os a pele. Um sorvete de casquinha, um de potinho e o picolé mais barato da sorveteria rendeu um dos momentos mais engraçados que tiveram juntos durante aquele intervalo de um mês.

Com o passar dos dias, virou rotina os dois passarem a tarde na oficina ou na praça perto dela conversando sobre automóveis ou sobre qualquer outra baboseira da vida.

A rotina de Zhong havia se retransformado: era faculdade durante as manhãs, ir a oficina de tarde e os fins de semana inventava uma desculpinha ou outra para passar junto com a garota da moto de nome estranho, seja irem em algum fastfood ou trailer de lanche duvidoso que ela conhecia.

Quem visse ao longe iriam os confundir com um casal, algo que com certeza deixava Chenle muito feliz.

Todavia, chega um momento que ciclos se finalizam.

Assim que se foi cumprido o combinado, todo o tempo que passaram juntos pareceu sumir num piscar de olhos, se tornando um só com o passado, se desmanchando em lembranças.

Com uma última piada engraçada vinda da garota e os cabelos esvoaçantes dela indo embora assim que ela subiu na moto agora arrumada e deu partida, a despedida se fez silenciosa.

Chenle não sabia, mas depois daquele dia, seria a última vez que veria o sorriso dela.

Seria a última vez que sentiria seu perfume.

Até o destino fazer eles se reencontrarem de novo.

— Vamos, Chenle. Deixa de corpo mole.

Haviam se passado vários meses desde a última vez que Zhong e a garota da moto se viram, desde então a menção da garota se tornou um tabu entre Chenle e os amigos, já que ela conseguiu se tornar um assunto muito delicado para o pobre rapaz.

Chenle notou que os sentimentos que estavam começando a florescer nele sobre a garota eram muito mais complexos do que uma simples atração. Ficou tão óbvio para ele que as desculpas de sempre vê-la, ou dar um jeito de colocá-la como prioridade na agenda quase ocupada dele, era uma forma de suprimir toda aquele desejo de poder tê-la por perto.

A primeira semana para ele foi muito dolorosa. As mensagens que enviava não recebiam respostas. As ligações não eram atendidas.

E as tentativas falhas de encontros, se transformavam em desencontros.

Chenle sentiu raiva como reação a situação frustrante.

Depois sentiu tristeza, mas não conseguia chorar, só sentir como se os pulmões fossem prensados um no outro, causando uma agonia sem igual.

Chenle sentiu saudade.

E depois da saudade ele simplesmente pegou ranço a qualquer coisa relacionada a ela.

Mas lá no fundo ele ainda queria reencontrá-la, queria perguntar o porquê das coisas terem seguido esse rumo. O que ela havia feito, como estava.

Se os sonhos que tinha compartilhado com ele haviam se realizado.

Por isso Chenle agora se via na sua atual situação.

Trajado de roupas caras e fresquinhas, sentado no sofá da sala de Jisung — enquanto o mais novo o puxava para saírem —, a espera do tal luau que Park havia o convidado para espairecer as ideias, mudar os horizontes.

Esquecer dela.

— Eu já to indo, Jisung... — respondeu arrastando a frase num resmungo.

— Levanta logo a bunda daí, Mark disse que Jeno e Jaemin já tão lá. Só tá esperando a gente e o rabugento do Renjun.

— O Renjun vai? Que milagre.

— Tive a mesma reação.

— Pensei que ele tava ocupado passando raiva atoa com aquela mina lá.

— Ta, ta. Levanta logo. — o mais alto joga uma almofada contra Zhong.

Depois de vários murmurinhos mal humorados e xingamentos, os dois amigos haviam finalmente chegado ao festival/luau/resenha na praia.

O céu se esfriava de pouquinho à pouquinho, o azul e o amarelo da tarde de sol movimentada da sexta-feira era substituído lentamente por um lilás clarinho. As ondas do mar, a juventude local entre risadas e sorrisos e a areia fofinha entre os dedos dos pés fez Chenle esquecer de tudo por um momento.

Se permitiu ter a serenidade de ser jovem acariciar a pele e a alma.

Chenle cumprimentou os amigos, algumas pessoas desconhecidas e, após uma cerveja e outra, decidiu ir assistir o mar.

As ondas da praia junto da luz da lua era uma das coisas que Chenle mais amava. A melodia que ressoava e o balanço das águas.

Ah, aquilo era como assistir uma dança apaixonada.

— Playboy? É você?

Como num piscar de olhos, Zhong sentiu toda a calmaria de seu ser ser destruída. Aquela voz, rasgando a pintura que Chenle tinha em mente, causando o caos, destruindo sua paz de espírito, foi o suficiente para ele virar o rosto em direção a ela.

Estava diferente, muito diferente. Os cabelos antes compridos, enrolados e selvagens, estavam agora curtos. O sorriso continuava o mesmo, a aura diferente — Chenle não sabia se era no sentido bom ou ruim.

O visual animalesco, revoltado. A postura de uma mulher madura, independente e sarcástica, todavia carismática e gentil.

Tudo era igual, com uma pitada de mudança, que fazia Chenle a desconhecer — isso se um dia a conheceu de verdade.

— Você... Eu...

— Como sempre muito expressivo, Lele. — ela riu para ele, bebericando de uma bebida duvidosa que conseguiu entre a pequena manada de jovens bêbados.

— O que você está fazendo aqui? — o cenho franze, ele a analisa de cima a baixo para ter certeza se era ela mesmo.

— Jisung me convidou.

— Que? — como assim Jisung a convidou? — Não to entendendo...

Sério isso? Cortou totalmente o contato com ele, mas com Park Jisung não? O garoto que ela mal conhecia e que a única vez que esteve no mesmo espaço que ele foi quando os três saíram juntos? Really?!

— Se encontramos por acaso no meu trampo hoje de manhã-

— O lugar onde você trabalha de motoboy? — Chenle a interrompe, sentindo um pouquinho de amargor no âmago, que com certeza não era do álcool.

Chenle não ficava bêbado facilmente.

— Ih, nem. — ela nega rindo, entre goles — Pedi demissão dessa lanchonete faz um tempão já.

— Ah... — cínico, ele responde.

E por que sumiu? Era a pergunta que estava entalada na garganta.

— Jisung me viu por lá, conversamos um pouco e ele me falou sobre o luau. Daí veio o convite. — disse simplista, com um sorriso meigo no rosto.

— Hum... — Chenle desvia o olhar da figura feminina para as ondas escuras, concluindo o diálogo de uma maneira desconfortável.

E se fez presente o silêncio.

Um silêncio muito alto e agoniante.

— Eu parei de fumar, sabia? — ela fala num murmuro, com o indicador circulando o topo do copo demonstrando incerteza.

— Sério? Parabéns. — Zhong realmente não queria conversar agora.

— Naquele dia, quando a gente recebeu de volta o carro e a moto, quando eu cheguei em casa encontrei meu vô doente no chão. — um suspiro pesado sai dela — Encontrei ele desmaiado no chão por falta de ar e outros problemas que deram nele. Ele ficou uma semana no hospital até ser diagnosticado com câncer.

Chenle volta a prestar atenção nela, agora com uma expressão preocupada.

— Foi uma correria que só, aquele velho me deu trabalho. — ela ri de uma maneira triste, olhando para baixo e depois voltando a fitar o horizonte — Hoje faz um mês que ele se foi, Lele. Por isso eu parei de fumar e por-

— Por isso que você sumiu? — ele afirma, com a frase soando mais como uma pergunta.

— Foi por isso e também porque aquele meu celular jurássico tinha virado camiseta de saudade.

— Boba, para de fazer piada era pra ser um momento triste. — ele dá um soquinho de leve no ombro dela, que ri gentilmente.

— Desculpa. — a garota pede, o observando serena.

— Pelo o que? — Chenle a questiona, sentindo os olhos arderem.

— Por sumir. Por não ter te procurado. E mesmo que eu estivesse ocupada com meu vô, eu sei que não é desculpa pra ter desfeito nossa amizade, Le. — chuta a areia meio decepcionada consigo mesma — Eu tive vergonha, medo do que sentia e ainda sinto. Tive receio de sermos muito diferentes, vivermos em mundo diferentes.

— Não diz isso...

— Tive medo de eu ser a única a sentir alguma coisa, principalmente por você ser realmente o primeiro amor que eu já tive, Chenle.

E é calada pelas mãos do rapaz tocando sua carne.

Os lábios rosados prensados contra os dela, a noite beijando suas figuras sob a luz do luar.

A canção das ondas tocando a sinfonia deles.

Os olhares confusos dela cruzando os olhares de paixão dele.

— Nunca mais some desse jeito, por favor. — leva as pequenas mãos dela para o rosto, afundando-o entre os dedos quentinhos — Por favor...

— Eu prometo.

"Prometo nunca mais te deixar, Lele".

[tyriq-edits]

In the Plain of Nysa

Millions Knives

Nai, the God of War

God of War and Vash’s twin brother

Younger brother of Tesla (Goddess of Victory)

Raised by Rem (Goddess of Wisdom)

Based on Ares and partly Demeter

Respected and rather well liked among the other Olympians (except Meryl)

After the death of his sister at the hands of mortal Soldiers during the Trojan war and Vash losing his left arm to the same soldiers, he became fiercely protective/possessive of his twin brother

Some time after the end of the Trojan War he built a giant "cage” under Mt. Olympus and locked Vash inside it for nearly a Millennium.

When any of the other Olympians asked him regarding Vash’s whereabouts he’d tell them his brother was travelling through the mortal realm, which seemed to shut the majority of the other gods up regarding this issue and the Golden Cage beneath their feet remained a secret only he and Vash knew about.

After Vash managed to escape the the golden Cage with the help of Meryl and Roberto, rather than an eternal Winter like Demeter in the Myth of Persephone & Hades, Nai, overcome with rage, created a giant war that would slowly spread across all of ancient Greece.

For more Information/lore about this AU just look at the in the plain of Nysa tag on my page or just send me an ask in my inbox.

As always thanks to my friend Stephan for helping me with this drawing of Nai and this AU in general. Please check out his art on instagram!

Please do not Tag this AU as Plantcest

[More ramblings about Nai’s design under the cut.]

Nai’s Design as you may have gathered is very much based on your typical Greek Hoplite Soldier

He was supposed to also wear a helmet but i was so proud of how the hair had turned out that I did not want to cover it up haha.

Around the time that this story takes place in, classical greece, bronze armours like these had actually fallen out of fashion in favour of iron ones so I just like to think that Nai, being over 1000 years old, is just very traditional or never fully mentally moved on from the Trojan War so he kept his old Bronze Plate Armour all those years while still adopting the newer Hoplite Warfare system (which used spears and Phalanx formations in comparison to the open battle fields and sword fights of the Mycenean Age/the Trojan War)

As for Nai‘s spear, an actual Dory could be up to 4 meters high, especially in the case of Macedonian ones. But making him run around with one of those would be impractical for many reasons as you may assume. The half-moon shaped spikes right underneath the actual Spear‘s spike is the part I stole from ancient greek hunting spears. The point of them was to keep wild animals like boars at a safe distance from you. Because boars, even if you pierce their skull with the actual spear‘s tip would just keep on running towards you even if it meant impaling their own brain on the entire spear Dracula Style. If you look closely you can kind of see it on the Meleager Sarcophagus.

[50shadesofoctarine]

Looking For A Beta (Aziraphale/Crowley Academic!AU)

Dm me if interested, 889 word excerpt below:

The ethics board didn’t know what to do with him; Neither did the medical board or the astrological association. Dr. A.J. Crowley was an academic rockstar—for all that the term “rockstar” meant in an environment where the ratio of knitted sweaters to human beings was an astounding 3.3 sweaters for every researcher in too many layers—his name plastered somewhere on most of the papers produced by Tadfield University, as well as a hefty chunk of papers produced outside of TadU (his groundbreaking statistical analysis popping up in all sorts of odd places, although, most notably, in Aziraphale’s pub arguments). A born contrarian, the sciences had called to him. And of course they had! Science was the occupation of mule-headed pricks (see: Nicolaus Copernicus), curious entrepreneurial spirits (see: Nikola Tesla), and madmen (see: Freud). And Crowley just so happened to be all three. There wasn’t a major field of study that he didn’t have a thumb in. If there was a scientific consensus to be had on the matter, then there was also a Crowley to unrepentantly flip the bird at it.

These were the foreboding thoughts overshadowing the mind of one young (although only young by the standards of post-PhD graduates, which is to say, not young at all) Dr. Fell as he glanced, awestruck, to the other side of the University cafeteria, where Dr. A.J. Crowley sat, eating a bowl of store-bought salad. Aziraphale had been crushing—academically, of course—on Crowley ever since he had read the man’s first paper on multidimensional approaches to quantum entanglement. That Crowley was wrong in his conclusions about relativity and its subsequent angles of observation was no impediment in Aziraphale’s appreciation of his intelligence. They might have disagreed on the finer points, but Crowley’s writing was a wonder to behold. Aziraphale had nearly vibrated out of his seat upon spotting him. Nevermind that he logically understood that Crowley published papers under TadU, the same university that Aziraphale himself wrote for, and therefore bumping into him was not outside the realm of possibility. It was the principle of the matter. Aziraphale knew Crowley as a photo above a well-read author’s note; It was something else entirely to witness him, breathing, flesh and blood, as he gazed into his salad, wine coloured locks flowing down his back. Odd to know that he had poor posture, or that he forked his food around more than he actually ate. Intimate, in a strange way; That Aziraphale could quote the innermost musings of a man mere meters away from him.

Unfortunately, Aziraphale’s single player staring contest was quite suddenly put into co-op mode, as Crowley—almost like he could sense the attention goring into his back—looked up from his salad and into Aziraphale’s, now bashful, gaze. A tense moment of delicate liminality followed, Aziraphale waiting (much like a man at the gallows) for Crowley’s reaction to his impropriety. He was then surprised when Crowley's expression morphed into one of recognition, rather than one of disgust or awkwardness.

“Dr. Fell!” Crowley called, a grin overtaking the once thoughtful lines of his face. He waved one of his arms haphazardly in a ��come-over-here’ kind of gesture, using the other to pull out a chair beside him. Aziraphale had the grace to be momentarily astonished before hurrying over to meet his academic hero.

“Dr. Crowley, It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance! I’ll be honest, I-I never expected you to know who I was… Let alone…” He let his words trail off into pitiful nothings, stuttering and red in the face.

“Just ‘Crowley’ if you will, or ‘Anthony’ if you must. And the pleasure’s all mine! I first read your work, oh… It’d have to be at least five or six years ago now. Your master’s thesis, I believe. On Paul’s doctrines.” With a leering grin, Crowley leaned forward.

“I will admit, Dr. Fell, your writing had me positively hooked.” He said it as though it were a secret, the kind you wouldn’t dare repeat to your mother. However, from what Aziraphale could tell, he just sort of spoke like that. Like someone who was constantly sharing the intricacies of some deviant sexual act for all the innocence of the actual words themselves. Every sentence that fell out of his mouth reeked of an implied “you saucy minx” like the ghost of Fran Drescher past.

“Er.” Aziraphale replied intelligently, taking a seat. Crowley seemed unperturbed by the sudden verbal ineptitude. When working with academics, you get used to an assorted array of oddball characters. It’s terribly presumptuous, and even more so unproductive, to expect them all to conform to the typical back and forth of neurotypical communication. You don’t get to become Dr. A.J. Crowley, pain in the arse to astrophysicists everywhere, by being over-particular about the oratory of one’s downtime.

“You’re wrong, of course.” He continued with an impish grin, forking his salad cheekily. Aziraphale hadn’t known someone could fork a salad cheekily, but nonetheless, here Crowley was, attempting to prove him incorrect on two fronts.

“Wrong? Dear boy, that was my master's thesis. Should you choose to debate this, I fear I’ll have the home field advantage.” His response was deliberately unaffected, a haughty tune laced with the playfulness that Crowley was absolutely drenched in.

“Unfortunately for you, I’ve read it. And, as such, I fear nothing.”

[dinaricsubtype]

In 1931. Nikola Tesla unveiled and tested a new automobile. Tesla had developed it with his own personal funds. It was a Pierce Arrow, one of the luxury cars of the period. The engine had been removed, leaving the clutch, gearbox and transmission to the rear wheels undisturbed. The energy receiver (gravitational energy converter) had been built by Tesla himself. It was installed in front of the dashboard. A heavy antenna approximately 1,8 meters long, came out of the converter. This antenna apparently had the function as the one on the Moray converter (Radiant Energy !!!). "Now we have power." Nikola said… He said there was enough power in the converter to illuminate an entire house, besides running the car engine. The car was tested for a week, reaching a top speed of 90 mph (144.84 km/h) effortlessly. Somebody remarked that there were no exhaust gasses coming from the exhaust pipe. Nikola Telsa answered "We have no motor."

[mr-camhed]

Name: Crossmember

Age: 5.72 million years

Gender: Male

Faction: Autobots(Publicly), Decepticons(in secrecy)

Assigned Forces: Autobot Armed forces(Publicly), Decepticon Military intelligence(in secrecy)

Role: warrant officer in security(Publicly), infiltrator(in secrecy)

Motto: "Doubt can come quick, but they'll go faster if you know what you're doing. "

Personality: In the eyes of The Autobots, Crossmember is an almost dispensable being. Not many are willing to approach him, and he also keeps his distance with his fellow Autobots as his work concerns important information. Not only does this reduces his sense of presence, but also ensures his second identity of a Decepticon spy would not be uncovered. And if someone discovers his secret that he's not really a Secrecy officer or his ulterior relationship with The Deception, Misfortune will almost immediately befall upon said unfortunate spark. They may get killed in a accident, captured by The Decepticons or get framed as a Decepticon collaborator, while Crossmember will get away with it.

Alternate mode: a Modified second Generation Toyota 4Runner N130 V6 Off-roader(earth vehicle)/black Cybertronian off roader(Cybertronian mode), alt mode may be altered with counterfeit identities.

Appearance: Crossmember is around 7 meters tall and looks just like another generic bot on Cybertron or another nameless Autobot soldier in The arrays. His transformation is a combination of Movieverse ironhide and Dark of The moon Cyberverse Legion Class Crankcase, with a majorly black and silver robot mode. His head sculpt is similar to Energon Blight only with a yellow faceplate and a smaller chin. Crossmember has three Autobot insignias on him at all times, but only have a tiny Decepticon Insignia on his spark chamber.

Weaponry: Crossmember has an average strength and intelligence superior to many. In his vehicle mode, he has a max speed of 201 km/h and can climb a thirty degree slope like It's flat ground. In robot mode, Crossmember is a master of forgery, he can fabricate materials convincingly for any Autobot experts in a standard day, and conceals his true identity to achieve his goals. And when Autobots lowered their guard, that's when the Decepticons strike, as Crossmember has given them important information in The meantime. For self defense, Crossmember has a standard assault Rifle and a handgun, as well as tesla coils in his palms to stun enemies and sabotage electronics suck as coded locks.

Character biography: Crossmember from Kalis was a forged Transformer. He was a beat cop during The pre war days and had no promotion or pay raise for thirty thousand years uninterrupted which causes him to be saddled in debt and drinking problems. However, The Appearance of Decepticons in Kalis had opened up an opportunity for Crossmember to make extra income: reporting The activities of The Autobot Authorities in exchange for Shanix and other goods. After The great war has broken out, Crossmember formally joined The Decepticons and remained among Autobot ranks as a spy.

Weakness: If one of Crossmember's former colleagues somehow survived and still recognizes him, he will be in a greater risk of compromising his cover.

comment: au contraire to Autobot spies like mirage and punch/counterpunch who fights for justice and with miraculous gadgets, Crossmember is a rat Decepticons hides among Autobots that sells out his colleagues for quick money.

[reality-detective]

Interesting 👇

EMF Radiation Test Shows Sitting in an Electric Car is Like Standing Near a Running Microwave

- Cell Phone: 120 mW/m2

- Microwave: 360 mW/m2

- Microwave (1-2’ Away): 100 mW/m2

- Inside Tesla: 100 mW/m2

I have a meter and I have no measurable radiation where I live, it stays in the green and I don't own a microwave. 🤔

[burnitalldowndarling]

Can you explain the plant stuff that's going on in First Fllower? It doesn't feel like what's in Tri Stamp.

Hi there, nonny. That's probably because what I'm running on for my Tristamp fics is like 50% my own headcanon. I'm basically using Vash and Knives (and what little we know of Tesla and the dependents) to extrapolate how a whole species of plants might work. Take everything with a grain of salt given that a) I haven't fully worked it out yet, and b) Studio Orange will probably toss it all in a food processor during Season 2. But I'll try to explain. This might get long; today I have a grinding headache, so babbling about fanfic nonsense will take my mind off the pain.

Spoilers for Trimax and (mostly) Tristamp. I'll purple text the stuff that's only my headcanon. This gets long so...

Basic Plant Biology

A few starting points that are important to remember: 1) Plants are not a naturally evolved species, so they don't adhere to the biological rules of most modern life forms. 2) Plants are basically energy beings, which happen to have a "husk" of flesh built around that energy to contain and direct it. Just keep these things in mind as we go.

Plants come in three "types": dependent, independent-generator, and independent-gateborn. (The last two are just me giving a name to what we saw in Tristamp.)

(ID: a screenshot from the anime Trigun Stampede. A small human-looking blond child stands in front of a very non-human creature in a pink tank of some kind of fluid. The child's back is to the viewer; this is Vash. The creature faces the viewer. She is adult-sized, and generally looks like a nude, elongated human woman. In lieu of hair she has fleshy petal-like things on her head. Four larger petal things, each about 1 or 2 meters long, emerge from her back. It's difficult to see, but she is covered in strange, fractal skin-patterns. Labels on each indicate that the creature is a dependent plant, and the child is an independent.)

Dependent plants: What you see in Tristamp. Not remotely human-looking. Soulless and lacking individual minds or identity, though they seem to have formed a natural hive mind within the higher dimension. They have an interdimensional gate within them, but it's one-way. They have fleshy petals attached to their backs; we don't know what they're for. As far as we can tell, they have no need to ingest food/water, they don't rest, and they do not grow old (at least not as quickly as humans; all or most of the ones on the SEEDS ships were at least 200 years old). We're not sure they're "born," frankly, since Luida mentions at one point that plants are "cloned from an original cell," probably with some genetic engineering involved. They appear to all be female-sexed and have working female reproductive organs, though they clearly don't work much like human girlbits. (More on this later.) They seem to be designed for life in a containment unit -- elongated limbs and digits that look too frail to support their weight under gravity/non-fluid conditions, skin so pale they'd burn in seconds if they could go outside, etc. Built for captivity. Their minds cannot be contained, however.

(ID: screenshot from Trigun Stampede. The image is dark, taking place at night, and backlit by fire. Knives stands in profile. His face is in shadow. His heavily muscled upper body seems to be bare, or covered in a skintight white garment. His lower body is covered by a kind of draping skirt or robe. At the top of the garment, however, it's clear that the garment is unraveling into long chainlike objects, which have metallic-looking spear tips. There are sharp-edged protrusions all along the chains' length. Later in the series it becomes clear that the chains are coming from Knives' back, and he controls them.)

Independent-generators: Souled. Individual minds. Unknown if they have visible human sex organs, but they do have apparent human genders. This is basically just camouflage like every other part of their human appearance, and irrelevant to their actual role in reproduction. Like the dependents, generators have a one-way gate within them, which sustains all their life functions -- they don't need to eat or drink, don't need to sleep, and they can regenerate their own flesh. Like dependent plants, they have unique organs/appendages rooted in their backs. The independent-generators' weird organs are specialized generator sites -- kind of like biological 3d printers that can crank out massive amounts of whatever at speed, and maintain a mental connection to whatever they generate. (More on this later.) Independent-generators have these "tendril roots" from birth, but they don't come online until maturity. The maturation process can be painful bc the awakening roots tap the spinal cord and then the first tendrils tear their way out through muscle and skin; once the plant has gone through this, however, they gain a degree of mental control over their own flesh which allows them to reshape it and/or regenerate any damage, so that it no longer hurts. The tendrils are extensions of their nervous system and can even operate while fully detached from the independent's body, if the independent wills them to stay connected.

Independent-gateborn: Same as generators for most things, but they have a two-way gate within them, which (at maturity) they can physically manifest. They cannot sustain themselves on the energy of their gate, for some reason; they must consume food and water, and they have to sleep. Also, they cannot regenerate their own flesh, so their injuries can scar. Gateborn tendril-roots are made to transfer energy, not to generate. The gateborn maturation process is much less dramatic, to the degree that they might not even realize their power has reached a new level (until they accidentally open a black-hole-like gate to the higher dimension and kill everything in a fifty-foot radius, anyway). While gateborn cannot generate, they can reshape their roots and manifested gateways in any way necessary -- a "wing" that's really just a bunch of microscopic gates in a containment web; an orbital cannon, etc. Their tendrils (really just reshaping/lengthening of their tendril-roots, and very rootlike in appearance) aren't like those of generators -- much less versatile, but potentially infinite in length. Also, gateborn are so energy-costly to produce that they're extremely rare.

I believe Tristamp Tesla must have been a gateborn, because she doesn't seem to have been able to defend herself against what the humans did to her. So I headcanoned that after what happened to Tesla, the dependent hive mind decided to make sure all gateborn get created with a generator as a protector and provider. Which leads us tooooooooo...

Plant Reproduction: It's complicated

Dependents: We don't know what triggers it, but at times they asexually (or by some sexual process we cannot perceive) get pregnant and pop out a baby, or twins. Humans in Trimax were surprised to discover the babies (we haven't seen the twins' birth in Tristamp), so I'm guessing the gestation doesn't take long. I headcanon the dependents aren't so much gestating as generating these children -- i.e. instantly materializing them as ready-to-yeet fetuses, with none of that "9 months" silliness.

If so, then what the dependents are doing has absolutely nothing to do with sexual reproduction. Their uteruses are actually more like tendril-roots, just 3d printing babies instead of metal. This is why Trimax!Knives could "regenerate" in a dependent's uterus. And this suggests plants don't need sperm and egg, or even time, to make a baby. They need three things: energy, a spare soul, and the ability to generate matter. (All dependents can generate matter. Among independents, gateborn can't.)

Souls exist in the higher dimension, a place of pure energy, and right there we've got two of the 3 requirements. So plant reproduction requires two sexual roles: someone who transfers energy (including the soul, since we might as well consider the soul just another form of energy) from the higher plane, and someone who generates that energy into a new plant. Regardless of their gender identity or apparent human sex, "generator" and "energy transfer-er" are the actual plant sexes.

Note that I haven't made the above paragraph purple. I think that's canonically what we saw happen in Tristamp eps 11 and 12; Vash and Knives made thirty or so bouncing baby independents together. S2 is gonna be so potentially traumatizing lit!

So re this headcanon, I mostly just slapped my own label on the "generator" (independent-generator) and "energy transfer-er" (independent-gateborn) roles that we seem to see in canon. I'm also starting to think of the dependents as a third sex, mostly because the whole arrangement resembles how plants -- the botanical kind -- reproduce. Many plant species use multiple reproductive strategies. Some have male and female morphs which practice sexual reproduction. Some have those plus a third form which can fertilize itself -- a hermaphroditic flower. (Very simplified; there are multiple kinds of sexual reproduction and multiple kinds of hermaphroditic reproduction.) So Vash & Knives are the sexual repros, and the dependents are the hermaphroditic repros. Independent-generators can become cosmetically hermaphroditic if a gateborn awakens the ability to flower within them, but they cannot transfer energy without the gateborn's help, so their flowers are just pretty/sexy.

So plants have the full range of human genders, and three sexes. Buuuuut I am not a biologist so the count of sexes might not make scientific sense, so I'm going to stick to "at least two" for now.

(::record scratch:: ...I just realized Tristamp!Knives is canonically trans. Human genders don't mean much to him, but he's treating the dependents like a plant gender that he identifies with -- wearing his patterned bodysuit to look like them, showing off his "girlish" crotch, wearing his hood up so it looks like a dependent's closed bubble of petals. Hmmmm. I wonder why he doesn't also make himself look more femme? If he can literally rebuild his body as it's getting fried by the Angel Arm, he can grow tits and a vulva (and flesh-petals and whatever those hair things the dependents have are called). Maybe because taking on a femme appearance would also increase his human-adjacency, and I guess his species dysphoria? Given how he mistreats the dependents himself... is there some self-hatred, maybe? Maybe it's more accurate to consider him a plant-crossdresser, or plant-genderqueer...? Aaaand that's a meta for another day. Back to this long-ass essay.

To make plant children, the gateborn opens a gateway to draw energy from the higher plane. This energy manifests as a transdimensional flower, appearing anywhere on the gateborn's body. Gateborn can also bestow these on any other independents, and they'll be able to flower forever afterward -- it's a permanent change. Anyway, when stimulated enough, this flower collapses into a condensed packet of energy containing build instructions (basically DNA) and one (1) soul. This is the seed -- a potential child. The gateborn can transfer as many flowers into our plane as they like, but if no one uses them, the flowers and seeds dissipate harmlessly, their energy returning to the higher realm. Note that the gateborn can't actually generate a seed into a child, themselves, but hopefully their sibling or another independent will do it for them -- or, with gateborn tendrils, the soul can be transferred to any nearby dependent, who will generate a child within her body and then give vaginal birth to it. Again, this was what we saw in eps 11&12.

(Id: Screenshot from Trigun Stampede. The overall image is faintly blue because it's taking place inside a liquid-filled tank. Two dependent plants, their petals unfurled, drift in the liquid. There is a black tendril coming from offscreen, separated into several more, which has attached itself to each of their bellies, and they now look heavily pregnant. Both dependent plants have their mouths open and do not look happy with their sudden forced motherhood. The black tendril is coming from Vash, although he isn't doing this to the dependents voluntarily; he is under Knives' control.)

Most independents will happily raise any "siblings" that their dependent "mothers" produce. Generators and gateborn who produce children themselves tend to regard those as offspring rather than siblings -- even though there's no biological link between parent and child, as there would be with a naturally evolved species. The child's soul has been influenced by everyone involved in producing them -- which could mean anywhere from one to dozens of parents -- but that's it. Plant children rarely look anything like their parents, but they sometimes inherit personality traits, which might be nurture as much as nature.

Making a new gateborn is more complicated because a) the prospective gateborn's seed has to receive much more starter energy than usual from the gateborn parent, and b) this gateborn seed must be produced alongside a second seed, which is tethered to it; the two souls are connected on a quantum level. The generator parent(s) then must generate both seeds into children at the same time, so that they are "born together." Making a gateborn seed without also making a tethered twin simply doesn't work; the lone seed disintegrates, and that energy just returns to the higher plane, unused.

Plant Fuckin' (Bom chicka wtf?)

Plants do not ever need sex to reproduce. Sex is purely a matter of interest, pleasure, and intimacy.

Dependents obviously cannot have consensual sex. They have pretty human-looking vaginas per Trimax (yes, we unfortunately get to see it up close at one point, during an utterly horrific scene), but you can't get consent from an entity that lacks a self. Any attempt at sex would be rape.

As with humans, independents can have sex in a lot of different ways. When aroused, their plant patterns emit light and vibration in various harmonic resonances. Generators' tendrils do this, too. Simple physical contact between pattern and pattern, pattern and tendrils, or tendrils and tendrils, is pleasurable -- so what would look to humans like cuddling or heavy petting is actually them getting down & dirty. More complex resonances, rhythms, and vibration patterns are equivalent to human sex positions. Every individual has their preferences. It's probably not just electromagnetic stuff that's happening; I'm thinking there's some transdimensional string theory going on too? But I don't know enough about that to pull off Sexy String Theory. Anyway, when all the waveforms are hittin', the plants involved don't really experience an orgasmic peak so much as a really intense plateau that can last a while. Hours-long edging.

Then there's floral sex. Gateborn don't have resonating tendrils, but they get something else: they naturally produce flowers when they're really enjoying themselves. (They can summon them without sex, too, through concentration.) They have some control over it, but it's hard to maintain control when your literal back is getting blown out. They can also awaken the ability to flower in any generator; there's only a chance of seed creation if the gateborn has opened a portal nearby. The flowers are not "real" in the sense of actually creating an opening on the plant's body. They are like Shrödinger's Cat; they simultaneously exist and do not exist. Anyway, touching the flower feels good. Getting your flower touched feels good. Penetrating the flower, with digits or tendrils or tongue, feels good -- and resonating with that flower, in exactly the right frequency, is a transcendent experience.

Whiiiiiiiiich can kill you!

See, I figure that all plants are naturally prone to form hive minds. (Again canon, mostly Trimax.) Floral sex is the most likely time for them to accidentally "merge," or attempt to merge, with another plant or with the dependent hive mind. Plants enjoying floral sex will feel as if their souls have left their bodies... because their souls have left their bodies. The risk of that soul getting "lost" in the higher realm is slim, but never zero. If it happens, a gateborn might be able to retrieve the lost soul. If that fails, though, that plant ends up as just a funny-looking dependent. (On the other hand, what a way to go.)

Unfortunately, it's possible for independent plants to commit rape. Since they can use their tendrils to connect to another plant, they can sometimes merge with -- and overpower -- that person's mind. Then the rapist can destroy memories, or force their victim to glow or flower against their will. They can also disable any resistance by stabbing that person's roots with their own tendrils... (Sigh. As in episode 11.) Souls can also be lost during rape -- and they're a lot less likely to come back from it.

I still have elements that I'm trying to work out with this headcanon. Could one have consensual sex with a dependent while in contact with the hive mind, assuming the hive mind says yes? If two gateborn go at it, would they destroy the world when they cum? If somebody licked Knives' robe, would he feel it (probably! and then that person would die horribly). But anyway, that's all I have so far.

(Looks back at the ESSAY she wrote) Hoooooly shit. Sorry.

ETA: missed a paragraph that should've been purple.