#coil winding equipment

[acmemechatronics1]

How Automatic Coil Winding Machines Improve Efficiency: Exploring the Benefits

The coil winding process is integral to industries that rely on electrical components such as transformers, electric motors, inductors, and solenoids. Traditionally, this process required significant manual labor and close supervision. However, the introduction of automatic coil winding machines has drastically transformed the way coils are produced, offering significant improvements in efficiency, precision, and overall production quality.

In this article, we will explore how automatic coil winding machines enhance manufacturing processes, reduce costs, and optimize production timelines, all while maintaining high standards of accuracy and reliability.

What is an Automatic Coil Winding Machine?

At its core, an automatic winding machine is a piece of machinery designed to wind wire around a core or form with minimal human intervention. These machines operate using programmable logic controllers (PLCs) and advanced feedback systems to automate the winding process, ensuring precise and consistent coil formation.

Unlike manual or semi-automatic machines, an automatic coil winding machine can operate autonomously, handling tasks such as wire feeding, tension control, layer placement, and even monitoring for defects or irregularities. These systems are particularly useful in high-volume manufacturing environments, where consistent quality and rapid turnaround times are essential.

How Do Automatic Coil Winding Machines Improve Efficiency?

The introduction of automatic coil winding machines has brought about several key benefits that directly contribute to manufacturing efficiency. Let’s break down the most significant ways in which these machines enhance productivity and streamline operations.

1. Increased Production Speed

One of the primary ways in which automatic coil winding machines improve efficiency is by significantly increasing the speed of the winding process. Manual coil winding typically involves multiple operators performing tasks such as guiding the wire, adjusting tension, and controlling the winding speed. Each of these steps can introduce delays and inconsistencies.

In contrast, an automatic coil winding machine can perform these tasks in real-time, continuously adjusting settings to optimize the winding speed. High-speed motors and precise control systems enable the machine to wind coils faster and more consistently, resulting in higher throughput. This is especially important in industries with high-volume production demands, such as automotive or electronics manufacturing.

2. Improved Precision and Consistency

Precision is critical when it comes to coil winding. Variations in wire tension, layer alignment, and coil size can lead to product defects, poor performance, or even winding equipment failure. Automatic coil winding machines are designed to deliver consistent results by using sensors and advanced control systems to monitor and adjust the process as it unfolds.

For instance, many machines feature real-time feedback systems that continuously measure wire tension and adjust the feeding mechanism accordingly. This ensures that the wire is wound evenly and under the correct tension, preventing issues such as wire slippage or breakage. Additionally, automated layer control ensures that each layer of the coil is placed with precision, minimizing the risk of gaps or misalignments.

By eliminating human error and improving the accuracy of each coil, automatic machines help manufacturers produce high-quality coils that meet tight tolerances, thereby reducing the need for rework or scrapping of defective units.

3. Reduced Labor Costs

Labor costs are a significant factor in coil winding operations, especially in industries that require high volumes of coils. Manual winding often requires skilled workers to operate and monitor the machines, which can be time-consuming and costly. Automatic coil winding machines reduce the need for direct human involvement, allowing for a reduction in labor requirements.

Once the machine is programmed and set up, it can operate autonomously, minimizing the need for constant supervision. This frees up operators to focus on other critical tasks, such as quality control or machine maintenance. Over time, the savings from reduced labor costs can offset the initial investment in automatic winding technology.

4. Minimized Material Waste

Material waste is another challenge in the coil winding process, particularly when using manual machines that rely on human judgment for wire feeding and tensioning. Inconsistent feeding or misalignment of wire can result in waste, as coils may need to be discarded or rewound.

Automatic coil winding machines address this issue by employing precise tension control and advanced sensors that detect any issues in real-time. The system can make adjustments as needed to prevent excessive wire usage or misfeeding, which helps minimize material waste. Furthermore, many automatic machines are designed with splicing features that allow for seamless transitions between wire spools, ensuring continuous operation without unnecessary downtime.

By reducing material waste, manufacturers can achieve higher yield rates, improving overall cost-efficiency and profitability.

5. Enhanced Flexibility and Versatility

Modern automatic coil winding machines are highly versatile, capable of handling a wide range of wire types, coil sizes, and winding patterns. Operators can easily reprogram the machine to accommodate different projects or product designs, allowing manufacturers to quickly switch between various coil specifications without extensive downtime or retooling.

This flexibility is especially beneficial for industries that require customization or short-run production. For example, a coil winding machine used in motor manufacturing might need to produce coils for different motor sizes or configurations. With the ability to quickly adapt to new parameters, the machine can meet the varied demands of these applications, all while maintaining high efficiency and precision.

6. Lower Defect Rates and Improved Quality Control

Automatic coil winding machines are equipped with advanced sensors and automated inspection systems that constantly monitor the winding process for defects. These systems can detect issues such as incorrect wire tension, misalignment of layers, or deviations in coil size, which are often difficult to identify manually. When a potential problem is detected, the machine can automatically adjust or stop the process to prevent further defects.

Additionally, many machines feature integrated quality control features that ensure every coil meets predefined specifications. By eliminating defects at the source, automatic machines help reduce the need for post-production inspection and rework, resulting in higher-quality products and reduced overall costs.

7. Predictive Maintenance and Downtime Reduction

Another important benefit of automatic coil winding machines is their ability to support predictive maintenance. Advanced machines are often equipped with sensors that monitor the condition of critical components, such as motors, spindles, and bearings. These sensors can detect signs of wear or malfunction before they lead to machine failure, allowing for proactive maintenance.

By predicting when parts are likely to wear out or require maintenance, manufacturers can schedule downtime during non-peak hours, minimizing disruptions to production schedules. This level of foresight helps improve overall equipment efficiency (OEE) and reduce the likelihood of costly, unplanned downtime.

Conclusion: The Future of Coil Winding Efficiency

Automatic coil winding machines have revolutionized the coil production process by improving efficiency, reducing costs, and ensuring consistent, high-quality output. With their ability to operate autonomously, reduce material waste, and enhance precision, these machines have become indispensable in industries that depend on coil-based components.

As technology continues to evolve, we can expect further innovations in coil winder machinery, including advancements in AI integration, machine learning, and IoT connectivity, which will continue to drive efficiency improvements and optimize production processes.As industries continue to demand faster, more precise coil production, the question remains: How will future advancements in automatic programmable winding machine technology shape the next generation of electrical and electronic devices, from electric vehicles to renewable energy systems?

[acmeelectronics]

Coil Winding Machines for Small Businesses: Are They Worth the Investment?

For small businesses and startups in industries such as electronics, automotive, and energy, investing in manufacturing equipment like a coil winding machine can be a game-changer. However, for companies with limited capital, such an investment can also seem daunting. In this article, we will explore whether coil winding machines are a smart investment for smaller companies, analyzing the benefits, potential return on investment (ROI), and key considerations.

As small businesses look to scale up their operations, the decision to invest in equipment becomes critical. The winding machine plays a central role in industries requiring precision-manufactured coils for products such as transformers, electric motors, and sensors. But are these machines worth the expense for a small business? Will the benefits justify the initial cost? To answer these questions, we need to analyze the advantages of owning a coil winding machine, the potential for cost savings, and the overall impact on business efficiency.

1. Key Benefits of Coil Winding Machines for Small Businesses

Coil winding machines bring several immediate and long-term benefits to small businesses, from increased production control to enhanced product quality.

A. Enhanced Production Control and Flexibility

Outsourcing coil winding can limit flexibility and slow down production, especially when working with external suppliers. By investing in a winding machine, small businesses can take control of their manufacturing process, allowing them to adjust specifications quickly, meet customer demands faster, and implement custom designs.

Example: A small electronics startup specializing in custom transformers can rapidly adapt production to meet new orders with an in-house coil winding machine, avoiding lead times typically associated with outsourcing.

B. Improved Product Quality

A coil winding machine ensures a higher level of precision and consistency, crucial for maintaining product quality. For smaller businesses looking to establish a strong reputation in competitive industries, producing high-quality coils is non-negotiable.

Example: Companies that manufacture high-performance inductors or solenoids for medical devices can ensure tight tolerances and error-free windings with their own machine, reducing the risk of defects and product failures.

C. Cost Savings Over Time

While the initial investment in a coil winding machine might seem substantial, it can lead to significant long-term savings. By eliminating the need for third-party suppliers and minimizing transportation costs, businesses can reduce operating expenses. Additionally, in-house winding offers the ability to cut costs on small-scale or custom projects, where outsourcing may be more expensive.

Example: A small electric vehicle (EV) startup that produces its own motor windings in-house avoids costly outsourcing fees, particularly for low-volume production runs.

2. Analyzing ROI: How Long Until You See Returns?

When considering whether to invest in a coil winding machine, ROI is one of the most critical factors. The decision-making process involves analyzing how long it will take for the savings and benefits to outweigh the initial investment cost.

A. Initial Costs vs. Ongoing Savings

The cost of a coil winding machine can vary greatly depending on the complexity, type (manual, semi-automatic, or fully automatic), and the production requirements. For a small business, a high-quality semi-automatic machine may offer the best balance between cost and functionality. While initial costs may be high, the savings on outsourced winding services and the added efficiency of in-house production often lead to a favorable ROI over time.

Example: A small electronics manufacturer purchases a semi-automatic winding machine for $25,000. If they were previously outsourcing production for $2 per coil and producing 20,000 coils annually, the cost savings would amount to $40,000 per year. With this calculation, the business would see a return on its investment within the first year.

B. Long-Term Profitability

Apart from cost savings, the ability to meet deadlines more effectively, respond to custom orders, and enhance product quality can have a positive effect on profitability. In industries where quality and precision are valued, owning a coil winding machine can differentiate a small business from its competitors.

Example: A custom electronics business that can offer faster lead times and higher precision windings compared to competitors can gain an edge in securing new contracts, boosting revenue.

3. Key Considerations Before Investing

Before making the decision to invest in a winding machine, small businesses need to consider a range of factors to ensure the machine fits their specific needs and capabilities.

A. Production Volume and Frequency

The most important factor to consider is whether the production volume justifies the purchase. For businesses with low-volume requirements, outsourcing may still be more cost-effective. However, for those with consistent or growing demand, in-house production becomes more attractive.

Tip: If your production volume fluctuates, consider machines that offer flexibility in handling different coil sizes and specifications.

B. Technical Expertise and Training

Operating a coil winding machine requires technical expertise, particularly for semi-automatic or fully automatic systems. Small businesses may need to invest in training their employees to operate and maintain the machine effectively.

Tip: Ensure you have the right training resources or service contracts in place to avoid operational delays due to machine downtime or technical issues.

C. Future Growth and Scalability

If your business plans to expand its operations or diversify its product line, investing in a versatile coil winding machine that can grow with your business is essential. Machines with modular features or upgradability options can save costs in the long term by allowing for scalability without requiring additional investment in new equipment.

Tip: Look for machines that offer software upgrades or modular components to future-proof your investment.

Conclusion: Is a Coil Winding Machine Right for Your Business?

For small businesses looking to gain greater control over their production processes, improve product quality, and realize long-term savings, investing in a coil winding machine can be a smart move. However, the decision hinges on factors like production volume, technical expertise, and future scalability. While the initial investment may seem steep, the potential for increased efficiency and higher profitability makes it an attractive option for many small businesses.

The question is: Does your business have the volume, growth potential, and expertise to make the most of this investment?

[dead-end-draws]

WOF tribe wingspan concepts:

Read below cut for close-ups of the individual wings + the thought process / headcannons behind the design choices: 👇

Skywing: Huge wingspan to body ratio, meant for catching air current with ease, and soaring great distances, even days on end without rest. It can also assist in billowing fire, mainly from the sheer power & air that flapping their wings can generate. Inspired by seabirds such as gulls & albatrosses, all equipped for traveling overseas.

Mudwing: Rounded wings to assist in parachuting and carrying more wind under a Mudwing’s muscled & bulky form. Striped patterns underneath wingspan resemble swamp reeds and algae when hunting. Given Mudwings are ambush predators, their wings are inspired by birds such as owls, which despite tending to be larger birds of prey, are very silent predators.

Sandwings: Coiled wingtips which mimic their barbed tails in flight. They have wavy line like patterns underneath, meant to resemble shifting dunelines or freckled sand spots. Sandwings have the largest wingspan next to Skywings, due to their requirement of flying long distances across the desert. Primarily inspired by vultures, and carrion birds meant to soar & circle.

Seawings: Fin-like Wings better equipped for swimming than flying. These wingspans are Manta Ray inspired, with dolphin-like tail ends connecting all the way to the wing tips. Depending on genetics, some seawings are born with more shark-like tail ends.

Nightwing: Sleek & recognizable wing shape, commonly associated with all dragon imagery. Their wingspan is inspired by bats, making them equipped for gripping craggy rock ledges, and blending into the night, since they can easily furl around their body.

Rainwing: Decorative and frilled wings. Inspired by Macaw/frilled lizards. Their wings mimic the same frills on their necks & tailbase, and can come in a variety of colors & patterns underneath. Stripes, spots, & swirls are all common sights. These wings are meant more for gliding, but also serve simultaneously as threat and courtship displays with the right whorls of color.

Icewings: Icewings have ridged wings which mimic icicles and shattered glaciers. Their wings feature sharp, narwhal-like spines at the tips. Similar to their serrated claws, they are perfect for stabbing into ice for balance, or spearing seals & fish. They can also hold dragon/prey firmly in place, and easily scewer an opponent in flight if needed.

[fluorynn]

🥀— 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : tsu’tey ✘ omaticaya!fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 / 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 : ANGST, heavy angst, heavy dialogue (?) descriptions of blood, injuries, tsu’tey’s kuru is severed, tsu’tey’s death, stubbornness, crying, mild fluff —

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 3.4k+

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 : @iwannabeapinkaesthetic @bridgechazlyn @nana-muffin @avatarloverfrfr @talanyra @dvxsja @ikeyniofthetayrangi @bambithewriter @iaoisiwqk

𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐲 : @cafekitsune !!!

author’s note : I don’t know what to feel about this one LOL — Tsu’tey deserved the BETTER😭😭😭 I hope you like ! Sorry I’m advance as well — comments/reblogs are always appreciated <33

Right when it occurred, something did not feel right. There is an odd sensation stirring in the hollow of her stomach. It could not be the adrenaline that had taken its course within her body for she had anticipated it, nor could it be the minor, barely visible cuts created by the Sky Demons’ graze of foolish weaponry for while it burned only the slightest bit, it wasn’t extreme enough to draw pools of blood.

Grunts of an odd, internal wound left her yet she, with all her restraint, refused to acknowledge it right then and there and gently patted the side of her ikran for she too felt it, she too felt the distress, the slight yet sudden tear of something, of someone apart from her sole rider. Golden eyes waste no second in searching, mind voicing for her ikran to halt the strong, frenzied flaps of her wings.

She shuts out the sounds of the Sky demon’s flying equipment, the war cries the Na’vi created, and waits. Waits and observes, observes and listens, straining every one of her senses; frantic became her gaze as the feeling within her spiraled, harsh and swishing became Pandora’s winds as it surged through her limbs, aching swirled her heartbeat, lips whispering faint murmurs, longing for the presence, the call of him.

A pair of ears, belonging to the woman who would bound her life to him under the will of Eywa, hitched high and flickered at the agonized screech which sharply pierced through the air, coming from a specific aircraft until it soon began its descent down to Pandora’s ground. She wasted no second in trying to comprehend where, who the cry derived from, and the ears once chirped high faltered for a brief second as she picked it apart while panic, fear, the scorching pain corporeally and spiritually exceeded throughout her as she did.

Wretched. Agonizing. Appalling.

The cry which ripples from deep within Tsu'tey's lungs, clawing through the inward flesh until it reached the base of his throat and had been unleashed, is to be described as those precise words.

“Tsu’tey!”

Actions transpire before thoughts could be formed, her high chirp commanding her ikran to acutely glide down, right towards where the prolonged blue frame plummets down, the harsh ruffles of the branches due to her reckless speed being disregarded despite the gnashes they sliced across her striped flesh.

The churn spasms furthermore from the core of her being; burning, afflicting, and it is when she reaches him, the one bound to be her mate soon, her Tsu’tey lying on the grassed ground, that she is met with the dejected notion weighing upon her.

Despite the physical agony he is currently experiencing, he feels her — his serenity, the compliment to his being, the support and sustainment to his unbalanced character — close by. A palm clasps below his chest piece just to cover, to perhaps hide from her that he is hurt. His innards burn, gnaw, coil with each breath he tries taking. He coughs and despite the burn of it, he calls out to her.

“Y-yawnetu.” ( loved one )

“Ma Tsu’tey –”

Yet she is already rushing to him, descending onto her knees right beside him. She did not know where to begin. Act nearly transpired before thought once more, until she catches the way he holds himself. The pain submerged from not just him but her with each hurried step she had taken, each ragged breath she had taken, and so when her hand reached to touch just over his wounded chest, it became vivid, blistering.

A violent racketting envelops him entirely at the feel, a grunt spewing from his lips and it instantly makes her touch retract from him, hissing more so in distress at the notion of her mate being injured at the hands of them. Not even them, but guided by their coward minds and dastard hearts with what they called a gun.

Her mouth parches, her throat tightening as she tries to speak through her anger and pain. “T-tsap’alute si ( I apologize ). You are hurt, w-we have to get you to–”

His head created the smallest head shakes only for him to wince rather visibly, reaching for her hand. “Stay. T-touch –”

Hesitantly, she did as he said though she notices his discomfort and instead goes to cradle the upper curve of his head, but there’s slight space between for with the bit of strength he carries he uses to keep his head up.

The pressure of her palm rumbles a sound from his chest and she notices how his jaw narrows, how his ear winces. “Hurts?”

“T’s n-nothing. Fine, I’m fine.” He breathes in before his long fingers loosely wrap around her forearm, and his browline tugs down at the dry blood latching, the gnashes littering her skin. He, even in this situation, firmly states rather than questions: “You are hurt. T-they hurt you – did they–”

“I am fine, tiyawn. I am fine – my fault. I was rushing to come to you –”

His sharp eyes blaze and upper lip curls over his teeth as he hisses. “Must be more c-careful! Demons could have…have killed you. M-must think now more than ever —”

“ I will – but I am fine, I promise.” She assures and with her other hand she cradles his jaw, feeling it condense before trying to get him to calm down for she sees how agitated he became.

“Syeha si ( breathe ), Tsu’tey. Tsyeha si.” He exhales then tries to inhale only for the passage of his throat to obstruct with a gush of something; iron tang distastefully becoming one with his taste buds, the sudden swarm of liquid causing a choke-like sound to form at the back of his throat. Fearful, she wastes no time in moving the current hand on his head to the upper backside of his neck to slightly elevate him despite his strained protest.

“I— fine. I am fine–”

Her other hand leaves Tsu’tey’s cheek and goes to the base of her throat, right over the beaded necklace crafted by his very hands, the very blood stained hands that tear from his wound and reach for hers to stop her from acting. “ You are not fine! You are wounded, for Eywa’s sake! We must call for help—”

She watches how Tsu’tey tries to resist crumbling his features when her fingers brush up his neck, halting just right below the start of his kuru. He watches in anguish as the irises within her golden hues dilate, nearly becoming one with the other. She feels it undone, the braid, and with it undone, it is unprotected yet for whatever cause would it be? He feels the ghost of her touch over its bareness lurk down, and he grunts loudly as he shifts to stop her. “Ma yawnetu, please–”

But now the simple act of doing so becomes toilsome and painful, provoking an excruciating groan out of him and she’s haste in halting him from creating any more movement. “Ftang (stop).”

Tsu’tey is apprehensive, forming the weakest scowl as she gives him a pointed look. Perhaps it was because Tsu’tey was in her presence – the woman who succeeded to take his stoic mask off, to soothe the scowl constantly twisting his face. It was then that she found herself seeing him better then he saw himself – who he truly was, is, and bound to become. To her it was a must to be by his side, and to him it was an odd yet yearning-to-the-bone necessity to have her with him, to see her the way she sees him.

So with that, he releases a ragged breath but lets her and she resumes her act — not near enough to make contact with it, but near enough for him to feel it hovering. Enough for him to choke on a gasp and clutch onto her forearm when she reached the end which rested right by his side.

She too feels the sensation of it, of what he’s feeling in this second, of what he’s been feeling when he met the ground. She feels him, the one who's supposed to be her mate, experiencing the most indescribable pain there is for the Na’vi: the only true connection to the wonders within Pandora, to their Great Mother being torn off. To the one bound to be their mate for eternity.

The notion crashes down on her stronger, becoming sole with the ache stirring within. She says nothing for a long time and tries pushing through the muskiness enveloping her vision, wanting to take him in; colorants of yellow and ebony streaked boldly on the sides of his scalp, and she recalls being the one putting them there, she recalls how all the tension and worries seemed to have faded away from Tsu’tey when the lovely strokes of her paint-dipped fingertips specifically striped upon certain parts of his angular features as well, somewhat enhancing them and his azure tones – yet now the color scheme was assisted by blemishes and smudges of red, and the fierceness he once carried before this battle occurred vanished. This is an entirely different Tsu’tey that no other has ever witnessed — and if it weren’t for one of the reasons being that he was too damaged, too hurt and strained, she would have smiled softly down at him and bathe him in all the love and happiness there was within her because of him — one even she hasn’t witnessed — the closest ever being was when Sylwanin passed.

“Let me take you to Tsahik. You are Olo’eyktan. I-important and must stay alive, let me call for help so we can take you back –”

“I am far too injured for Tsahik to fix this. There is a battle happening at this moment, woman. We cannot let this interfere. They all need to fight for our People. Our home.” he grunts , nose scrunching at the raise of his tone. “And a demon weapon striked me…sa’nok died from it. Even if we try, it will be too late—”

“Toruk Makto will know what to do.” she quickly interjects. “He was one of them, h-he will save us. Will save you, ma Tsu’tey. He will not leave the People without their Olo’eyktan. H-he —”

“Then he will be the one to lead the People.”

He can’t fight the subtle twitch of his lip at how her ears perch at this, and she frowns deeply, just like he expected her too. She didn’t dislike Jakesully while she was wary of him at the beginning. Yet he earned trust, a rightful place among the Omaticaya. Even so, that place was not, isn’t, what Tsu’tey is suggesting.

“But he…y-you are Olo’eyktan. Our guidance, our leader.” she takes in a sharp breath and blinks rapidly as he stares up at her. “You…you are to b-be my mate. And I yours, yes?”

Purple splotched with the ebony striped beneath Tsu’tey’s eyes, pronouncing the anguish and disappointment lodged within his pupils, weighing down upon him. His lower lip quivers when he grabs his ruptured queue, and it takes everything in him to not yell.

He speaks through sputtered syllables. “I…I c-cannot ride again. Cannot be guided with the voice o-of Eywa. C-cannot lead the People and be strong Olo’eyktan because of this –”

The smallest whimper he made causes her to hold back her own, ears catching onto the way his breath hitched. He releases his hold on his queue and lets it falls back to his chest in order to apply pressure to evict the constant drain of blood even though at this point it is inevitable. His other hand tries to grasp onto something, anything to sustain himself. She is quick to grab it, guiding it towards her, right above the part he painted over — fingers dipped in turquoise-colored paint at the beginning yet now taints with the boldness of crimson, the length of his fingers curling from the curve of her shoulder while his palm had pressed above the front of her chest right near her heartbeat, the closest thing he was to ever feeling.

He finds grounding, he finds the guidance of her heartbeat, of her touch but it isn’t nor will it ever be like how it’s supposed to. Inhaling through flared nostrils, as if preparing to say the words he wished so desperately to not be true, he utters the words that unfortunately confirmed her very thoughts:

“But overall…I-I will not be able to form tsaheylu with you, yawnetu. You will not have a true mate. A-and I will no be able to feel you…to truly have you under the will of our Great Mother.”

It was effortless to push away the wretched feeling ripping inside of her — but stubbornness is almost as if it is one with her. Something Tsu’tey both adored and despised at times – and in this case, he isn’t exactly certain which he feels right now.

A sob heaves from her chest, feeling so utterly pathetic when tears continue welling in her eyes. “K-kehe ( no ). You have always had me — no matter tsaheylu. You’ve felt, known and seen me, ma Tsu’tey. I feel, know and see you then and now. Please let me continue — let us go—”

“Oeru yawne ( my love )…” The expanse of his palm slides up to her neck, gently enveloping her drenched cheek and weakly frowns at how he’s grimming her beautiful face with his own blood. It is too much; the raw truth of it all, the rasped breath of his tender words, the quivers of his palm due to his pain, tears cascading from her eyes and coating her cheeks, him giving the mantle to someone else and accepting it, the sinking fact that the first and only thing she can and will ever solely, truly feel from Tsu’tey, the man who she’s chosen to be with for the rest of her life as he has chosen her with no hesitation, was him hurting, him processing it with the same pace as she is.

He says nothing for a second, simply letting himself scrutinize and adore her and gather his words. “It is worse to go through this life without purpose than to die. A-a feel without you, oeyä yawne, has no purpose.”

“And a life without you has no purpose!” Her voice grows harsher, words broken. “Is that what you want to do to me, hm? Leave me with no purpose?”

“You will have the People—”

“It isn’t the same! A-and so will you if you choose to see the light of this—”

“Ma Y/N.” It isn’t firm, his tone when saying her name. But it is enough for her to stay quiet, ears flattening at the sides of her head.

“Me…just being me will not suffice for the People. And while I am more than happy to know that it is sufficient for you… it is not for me.” The octave of his voice is tremulous, barely audible to ears as he peers up at her. “Not when knowing I cannot satisfy those around me — it will not be enough from my part…for them. For you. Especially with everything you have given me.” He gives her one of his truest smiles despite the red that now streams out the corners, coughing afterwards.

The pad of her thumb swats the blood away, knowing what he was doing with his words. She badly wants to frown at him, to tell him it is not the time to be smiling but she can’t help the pure allure she has to his lovely expression. She can’t help herself from tilting her head and questioning, “What have I given to you?”

“Patience. Peace.” His eyes close a second as he sighs. “Even through grief, through loss and chaos, you chose me. It is as you say; you’ve felt and have known and seen me. While my mind was to be dutiful to the People…my heart was purposeful to you.”

Nuzzling into her touch, he breathes out, “and now I accept this — because I’m in the presence of you. It is…a bit more peaceful.”

“Y-you skxawng.” she chokes out for she doesn’t know what to say and instead lets her forehead shadow over his as he chuckles. But he feels it, feels what’s channeling from her mind, heart, soul, and it’s enough to bring him much more tranquil.

The bleeding from his chest does not stop, but at this point he doesn’t care anymore. Instead, he removes his hand from the spot and loosely curls around the hand that has not left its spot from his cheek. Fingers tenderly knead the flesh of her wrist while the other still cups her face, thumb stroking the apple of her cheek. Eyes taking her in, the sensations she now only faintly ignites within him, and he groans lowly at how those blazing, loving emotions clash with the shock that is coming together. The reality, the acceptance of not being the one to guide the People, of not giving her the future she truly deserves, the acceptance of it all.

She doesn’t want to accept it however. Not now, not yet. So all she can do is nod, swallowing through the lump within her throat and let’s herself softly touch him; the fading specks across his nose, the beautiful markings of his forehead, the sharpness of his cheeks, the quiver of his lip as he inhales curtly, eyes closing for a solid moment. It is ridiculously unbearable now, pain pulsating in sharp waves through his body.

“Hurts?” She tries evading her gaze from the red spiraling down his blue skin, from his severed kuru. He shakes his head and lets his hold press a bit more against her. “No more…fine. I’m fine.” he gently coaxes his lie with a subtle twitch of his mouth, wanting to reprieve her from feeling any more anguish for him.

“That — that is good.” she returns his expression, professing her own belief in his words to spare him his strength in trying to console her. But how he slightly hears it in the way her breathing becomes frantic when his own starts to falter. The extent of his wounds are as he said; too great and severe for Tsahik to cure, and the heart's wrenching notion that he’s near his end slowly starts to seep past her obstinacy.

Faint cries of what seemed to be cheers chime through the sky, and he can’t resist the sigh of relief that emerges. “That is a good sign. Very good.”

She nods but doesn’t tear her attention from him. She watches how his bright orbs shift beneath his shut eyelids. When they come to view again, there is slight agitation. More ache accompanied by sorrow, all of it spreading from the core of his being. “Yawnetu.”

Her tail lashes in fret. “I am here, Tsu’tey — what is wrong?”

“C-call to them…it is almost time.” His words stammer violently, grasping much more onto her when he gasps. Her coils furiously shake across her shoulders, nose scrunching, lower lip trembling when she sobs. “not yet…n-no not yet. I cannot lose you! P-please—”

“My stubborn girl,” he grunts quietly when his red stained mouth manage to smile. “You will never lose me. I…I am more than certain we will see one another again. But now the People, Toruk Makto must know he is to lead them. And I need you to help me let him know.”

She desperately nestles her cheek against his hand for a moment, sniffles and nods before craning her neck forward and placing a light kiss over his forehead. “W-whatever you wish, tiyawn.”

She does what she is told while he listens, the voice of Jakesully being heard, wasting no second in confirming he is on his way with the others.

Feathered kisses are met with his temple now and across his forehead, his eyelids, his nose, his cheeks — but lastly his lips. Not caring for the blood tainting them, only for the sensation they soothe her soul with, she gives him one last broken kiss.

She focuses entirely on Tsu’tey, respite emerging deep from within his lungs while desperately trying to give him one of her breaths as if it’ll spare him, tender fingertips grasping his face in an anguish manner as he too tries meeting her halfway.

The hand on her cheek goes back to her shoulder, gently pulling her closer. Her thumbs brush down his cheeks, outlining the structure of his jawline. “I feel you. I see you, oeyä Tsu’tey.”

The tip of his nose nudges her when his forehead finds its place over hers. “I feel you. I…I see you, oeyä Y/N.”

Those are the words he finds himself mouthing to her one last time, the only pair of brilliant, loving tearful eyes that he sees, the last swarm of peace that wavers with Toruk Makto’s shadow as it envelops his dying body.

[imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese]

Destinytober24: Day 4 - Reunion

Always wondered wtf Shin Malphur was doing during Beyond Light. This was as good an excuse as any.

Link to Ao3 if you prefer to read it there

"Looks like Stranger's got company," the Drifter said over his shoulder to Eris Morn, riding behind him on the same sparrow.

It had been dark when they had left with Eris driving, but now the light glinting off the snow was blinding. Days and nights on Europa lasted 85 hours. Due to Eris's excellent night vision and the Drifter's keen eyes during the day, it made the most sense for them to drive a single sparrow together when they were out on patrol through sundown or sunset.

"A guardian, perhaps?" Eris asked.

The Drifter licked his lips and smiled, glad his rebreather was hiding the lower half of his face. The sound of her voice right by his ear was such a turn-on, even with the wind whipping the warmth and steam from her lips away from them.

The Drifter brought their sparrow to a perfect sliding stop sideways next to the other vehicle near Elsie's yurt. His stomach lurched as he looked it over.

"What is it?" Eris asked, feeling him tense.

"I know that sparrow."

"Clearly."

They both disembarked and he put his hand on her arm. "Do me a favour, Moondust?"

"That depends upon what the favour is."

"Let me do the talking and let me stay between you and him."

"Why?"

"Long story. Tell ya later. Please?"

Eris tilted her head. It was the first time he had ever asked her something ending with the word "please." His voice was gentle. Gentler than he ever spoke to her. His eyes were cold. His body had become eerily relaxed, in a way that felt… dangerous. Like a snake, loosely coiled, ready to strike.

Whatever this was, the Drifter was afraid. But… Eris observed… not for himself.

Even now, their friendship only recently and loosely established, their time on Europa only recently begun, Eris could tell when the Drifter was readying himself for… something. She was learning his moods, his body language. His behaviour now was almost… protective.

"Hmmm…" Eris frowned. She loathed being protected. And yet… it was unlike him to behave in such a manner. He had never done so before. This was different.

"Very well."

As they entered the shelter Eris saw Elsie nervously fidgeting with a coffee cup at the small table where they took their meals. A hunter sat across from her. He was dressed in black leather with a wide-brimmed hat tilted low over his face, obscuring it. A cup of coffee sat in front of him on the table, steaming. It looked untouched.

Elsie looked up sharply as the two entered. The glow from her eyes settled first on the Drifter pulling his rebreather off, and then immediately looked behind him to fixate on Eris.

The elder Bray sister was never nervous and yet she clearly was exhibiting symptoms of nervousness now. Her Exo frame was tense with agitation, but Eris only noted this in passing.

Eris' three eyes zeroed in on the man across the table from Elsie, or rather, the tendrils of Darkness she could see wafting around him with her Hive-augmented sight, tendrils in a distinctive shape she'd only ever witnessed coiled around one other person.

"Hey," the Drifter said, his voice friendly as he tossed his rebreather onto a heap of equipment near the door.

Eris watched the Drifter shift his stance as the man at the table turned to look at them. She wondered if the movement to place even more of his body between herself and their new guest was even conscious at this point. She could feel him reverting to instinct. A dangerous wild animal facing off against another of its own kind.

"Hey," the man at the table responded. A gruff practised friendliness. And then his head tilted up slightly and she saw his eyes.

She knew them instantly. "Eyes like mana in the desert," the Drifter had once described them to her. It was an apt metaphor. Eyes that could see through anything. Eyes that could lead a cult. Eyes that could summon the Light with enough power to form a gun that would leave its victim nothing but a shadow on a wall. Captivating. Beautiful. Very old and very young at the same time.

Those eyes bored into her. Eris' mouth formed a thin line. Her three Hive eyes met his gaze through her bandage without flinching and bored right back. Analysing. Observing. Feeling the Darkness within him shifting and writhing.

The two Hunters stared each other down and sized each other up over the rogue Lightbearer's shoulder.

"What'cha up to out here, friend?" the Drifter asked, his voice extremely casual as it broke the tense silence.

"Might ask you the same thing," the man responded.

"Doin' my job. Just like we agreed." Eris noted how the Drifter was careful to keep his empty hands where everyone could see them while simultaneously hiding what her own hands were doing.

"That's funny. I seem to remember your job is runnin' Gambit."

"Gambit's doin' just fine, thanks for askin'. But you didn't come out here just cuz I cancelled a few matches now, did ya? Seems like an awful lot of fuss."

"Nah." The man didn't even look at the Drifter. His eyes never left Eris'. "Just wanted to check in on my friend's new… friends."

Elsie looked back at Eris sharply, concern on her face.

"We're doin' just fine." Eris could feel the Drifter's disarming smile in his tone as he spoke.

"Are you sure about that, friend?" The man at the table leaned forward slowly. The Drifter moved in a way that was barely perceptible. The coffee cup trembled between Elsie's hands.

The tone was gentle but Eris felt the threat behind it. A threat directed not at the Drifter or at Elsie, but squarely at her.

"Yeah… friend," the Drifter replied.

"Wouldn't want you to be getting too attached to anyone out here in the cold," the man at the table continued. "Might compromise your judgement." He continued to start at Eris.

"Why? You gettin' jealous?"

Eris and Elsie both looked at the Drifter in surprise. True to form, it was the last thing Eris had expected to come out of his mouth in this situation.

The man at the table laughed with his mouth but not his eyes, but he did look away from Eris to the Drifter when he did so. "Not of you."

"Always a bridesmaid, never a bride," the Drifter said with a fake wistful tone.

"Yeah, well," the man at the table looked back at Eris. "You ain't the till death do us part type."

"Damn straight. You know how much I like breathin', brother."

"Oh…" The man at the table stood up, or rather, he flowed to his feet. Elsie spilled a small amount of coffee onto her hand. The Drifter took a half-step back, lightly bumping against Eris. Eris rocked onto the balls of her feet and willed her Ahamkara bone to frost over behind the Drifter's back.

The man in black stepped toward the Drifter and Eris.

The temperature in the room dropped several degrees.

Elsie's hand dropped down to rest her fingertips on her No Time to Explain pulse rifle slung over her shoulder.

The Drifter turned slightly, nudging Eris back and to the side with one shoulder, away from the door.

"I'm countin' on it," the man said as he stepped in close to the Drifter, finally staring into his eyes.

The Drifter raised one arm slightly in a shielding motion to the side as he stepped back again. Eris growled quietly but followed the Drifter's lead, stepping away from the door and, as he had requested, keeping him between her and his 'friend.'

"Last thing I want is to have to come clean up your mess," the man said quietly.

"Aww… come on… you know how much I love gettin' dirty." The Drifter punctuated his response with a lascivious smile and a wink.

They stood, their faces inches apart, the Drifter smirking, the other man not reacting at all. Waiting.

"Seriously though, we're fine here," the Drifter broke the silence. "You do not need to be here now, and you don't need to come back. Ever."

The man looked from Drifter's eyes over his shoulder to Eris and then back again.

"See that it stays that way."

The Drifter's lips made an exaggerated kissing motion twice as the gunslinger stepped past him through the door, out into the snow.

The door slid shut and all three of them heard the sound of a sparrow leaving. The Drifter closed his eyes and let out a long slow breath, still leaning slightly into Eris as he relaxed.

"Was that… who I think it was?" Elsie asked.

"Uh… yup," the Drifter answered, blinking slowly. "The one and only." He turned to Eris. "Thanks. I know you probably wanted to stab him in the face."

Eris' three eyes narrowed. "The three of us could have taken him."

"Maybe" The Drifter sighed with a smile and stepped away from her. "Maybe. Still not very good odds. And I am very glad we didn't have to find out."

"Is this normal?" Elsie asked. "Does he just periodically show up and… threaten you?"

"Eh… one man's threat is another man's foreplay. He's… very dramatic. Probably comes with the territory when you're a myth walking around on two legs."

"Hmmm…" Eris intoned as the frost left her Ahamkara bone and the room began to warm up to its regular internal temperature.

"Anyway. That's over. I'm still alive and so are both of you." He pointed his index finger on his left hand at Elsie and the index finger on his right at Eris. "I'm calling that a win." He took another deep breath and let it out slowly. "Fuck I need a drink. Surely we got something in here that's stronger than coffee…"

Link to the entire month's worth of prompts on Ao3, posted daily.

[tourneys-by-me]

Multiple Elements Character Tournament - Round 1 (C) 4/12

Doctor Coyle: Electric, Ice, Explosion, Fire, Wind, Stun, Blind, and Poison

Aang: Air, Water, Earth, Fire, and Energy

Propaganda under the cut

Doctor Coyle: She's 48 years old. She has no hobbies. She experimented on herself in order to give herself stretchy coil-shaped arms, and her one goal in life is to become the most powerful slinky-arm person of all time. She's rumored to have 52 doctorates and lack a sense of taste. I love her so much. There's really no reason I submitted her over any other ARMS fighter aside from personal bias (since any playable character can be equipped with any ARMS, of which most possess an elemental affinity), but she's a Woman in Evil STEM and her character design has a prominent electricity motif (if having a motif of just one element is worth anything in a multi-element tournament). Her default ARM selection comes with an Electric, Ice, and Explosion-based option, and with the magic of custom loadouts she can use [however many ARM types are considered to be elements] on top of that.

Aang: He's destined to be a hero, but he's also very much a kid, one who has to deal with intense trauma and responsibility from too young an age. His arc from child trying to run away to a hero with strong friendships and immense courage and wisdom is incredible. He is the master of the four elements and is also a silly little guy and we love him for it Master of all elements, and silly little guy :3

[impossiblescissorspeachpaper]

there’s nothing like doing nothing, with you

elriel month prompt four: peace & quiet

Emerging from the pantry, her arms laden with ingredients, Elain breezed around the Townhouse kitchen as she prepared a simple lunch.

Measuring out two cups of flour, she added a dash of salt and a teaspoon of sugar to her large mixing bowl. 

It was late on a Tuesday morning, just before midday, which meant that right at this very given moment, Azriel would be in the training ring atop the House of Wind. He’d be running the priestesses through the last of their drills, that stoic look on his face exuding nothing but pure professionalism.

Removing a stick of butter from the cooling box, Elain cut it up into small cubes and added it into her flour mixture, working it in quickly with her fingers. 

Internally, Azriel would be brimming with pride, of course. Proud that those females living within the shelter of the library Rhys had built for them centuries ago had come so far. Proud that not only had they been working consistently to develop their physical strength, but strengthening their minds as well.

He’d be prompting them to give him one more, knees up, shoulders back! Elain had watched them from the sidelines enough times to know how it goes, feigning one excuse or another to be up at the House some mornings so she could watch Nesta and her friend’s train, and get a glimpse of Azriel in action.

She smiled at the thought, at how far Nesta had come. Eyeing her flour mixture, Elain added a splash of lemon juice to a quarter cup of water. A dash of lemon juice; it was her secret ingredient to a perfect, flaky pie crust. It worked every time.

Azriel would then wrap up his training session, keeping a respectful distance as the priestesses stretched out their weary muscles. He would remind them to eat something nourishing and drink plenty of water throughout the day. He’d silently pack up the equipment used, his beautiful face still giving nothing away that anything may be afoot. 

Adding the water slowly to the flour and butter mixture, Elain gradually formed a smooth dough. Turning the ball of pastry out on her bench, she sprinkled flour across its smooth surface.

Cassian would be asking him if he was up for a sparring session, the General attempting to rile him into submission by implying he had gotten out of shape. It would be complete rubbish of course, Azriel always ensured his body remained honed to perfection. But Cassian would shoot him a cocky grin, trying to get the Spymaster to concede. Azriel would tell him he had to be somewhere, tell him there was intelligence he had to gather, that one of his spies had new intel to hand over to him. Cassian would believe him; he’d have no reason not to.

With a large knife, Elain sliced the ball of dough in two, placing one half aside and stretching out the other on the floured bench, her rolling pin running across its surface creating a thin even sheet.

Launching straight off the edge of the training ring, Azriel’s mighty wings would unfurl, and he’d shoot up into the sky, high above Velaris. He’d fly toward the city proper, aiming for the heart of the glittering metropolis. He’d circle around a few laps, shaking off any unwelcome eyes that may be following his path, and land several blocks away from the Townhouse, down an empty alleyway just past the Rainbow. He’d loiter, just a little while, pretending to await one the charges within his network, looking bored as he absent-mindedly twirled Truth Teller in his palm. 

Coiling the first rolled out sheet of pastry around her rolling pin loosely, Elain carefully unfurled it into an empty pie dish, pressing the dough lightly into the corners and up the edges. When she was satisfied, she started on rolling out the second half of pastry.

After a few moments, Azriel would once again sheath Truth Teller into its scabbard. When his shadows had assured him that his actions were indeed not being watched, Azriel would only then step into the darkness. His shadows would know exactly where his intended destination would be. They’d know where he wanted to go. He’d swoop and twine through that void between realms until he materialised on the roof of the Townhouse.

Just as she was finishing rolling out her second disc of pastry, Elain heard a light thump, and then the crunching of boots from above. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she heard his heavy boots come down the spiral staircase and into the house. Right on time.

Before Elain could dust her hands off on her apron, Azriel had appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. His hair was adorably windswept, his leathers already unclasped and loosened at his collar. Scarred fingers made nimble work of unbuckling the remainder of the stays and straps of his leathers, finally relieving himself of the few weapons he wore buckled to his thigh and waist.

Placing the daggers on a small side table, he entered, looking more relaxed, more approachable, than she knew he would have appeared moments ago. 

She smiled. She couldn’t help it, she always smiled when he walked into the room. How absurd that his title deemed him a Shadowsinger, when he was sunshine of her life. Whilst others saw the icy demeanour, the chiselled brittleness of his cool exterior, Elain had been intimately acquainted with his gentle warmth. His mere presence was soothing to her. She often found herself longing to simply bask in his glow, wanting nothing more than to stretch out like a cat would be inclined to do in a patch of warm sun.

“What am I playing for today?” she asked him as a way of greeting.

He smiled at her question, his hand diving into his pocket and pulling out a small, ornate metal box. It was gold, adorned with a smattering of teal, lavender and rose-coloured gems. It was so intricately designed, the colours of the small jewels set in a pattern to resemble small blooms, but the entire thing fit in the palm of his hand. It was beautiful.

“An antique pill box, from the Dawn Court. I thought you’d like the colours of this one.”

Elain simply hummed in response, schooling her face into one of mild indifference, not wanting the Spymaster to know just how much she wished to win today. He was terribly competitive and if he knew just how much she coveted this latest acquisition, he’d make it near impossible for her to have it. 

The little pill box would look lovely with her collection, as it wasn’t the first one he’d found for her on his travels across Prythian. She often used them to keep her earrings and hair pins safe, she even had a couple that she used to store the seeds and bulbs of rare flowers and herbs inside. 

Elain tore her eyes from the pillbox in Azriel’s palm, her gaze landing on his handsome face where a glimmer of a knowing smirk lifted the corner of his lips.

She nodded just once. “We’ll start after lunch. Help me finish this pie?”

Tucking the pillbox back into his pocket with a cunning grin, Azriel rolled up his sleeves and pulled up a stool to the edge of the workbench.

“Prepare the filling again?” Azriel asked, already dragging a punnet of fat strawberries toward him.

“That’s right,” Elain supplied with a smile. 

It was always this way; it had become their little ritual. Elain would have spent the morning preparing a roast, a tray of lamb and rosemary potatoes already turning golden in the oven, when Azriel would come home just in time to help finish the pie they’d then eat throughout the afternoon.

They would work in companiable silence, Elain rolling out the pie crust and Azriel preparing the filling under her careful watch until their roast came out of the oven. They’d have lunch right there at the kitchen bench as the pie baked, chattering about their weeks; about Elain’s work in the various gardens across Velaris, Azriel about the places he’d travelled to whilst on his missions. 

Once lunch was cleared and the pie was golden and crusty, Azriel would serve two fat slices and carry them out onto the garden patio where their chessboard waited, steam wafting over his shoulders like his shadows.

They played every week for as long as they could, stealing that precious time together until they were called back to their various responsibilities. Azriel would have some new trinket or knickknack he would have found whilst on his missions across Prythian as a wager. It was usually something that he knew Elain would enjoy; bulbs of rare flowers to plant in her gardens, fabric dyes in a vibrant azure or deep magenta, jewelled hair pins, exotic herbs and spices, peculiar books. 

He’d set the object on the little table beside the chessboard as a constant reminder, and they’d play, eating slice after slice of pie.

Often, their games would go over several weeks, the Seer and Spymaster both divulging their competitive sides and neither wanting to concede to their defeat. The chessboard would await their return in a state of quiet suspense, the Queen standing guard to defend her King until the following Tuesday when they would once again pick up where they left off, continuing their game.

The sun was warming the grey stones of the small courtyard as they sat across from each other, the ancient chessboard between them, ebony and ivory pieces scattered across the worn squares.

Azriel’s brilliant eyes were darting across its chequered face, diligently calculating every possible move and those that may follow it. 

After making his move, he reclined in his chair again, stretching his wings behind him to catch the sun. A sure sign of confidence and ease from the Shadowsinger. 

“En passant,” Elain murmured, before sliding her piece across the chessboard and capturing one of Azriel’s white pawns. 

Azriel glared at her, but she remained unruffled under his gaze, simply giving him a small shrug of her slender shoulder. Scooping a celebratory bite of the strawberry pie on her spoon, she gave him a smug look across the small wrought iron table, struggling to hide her wide smile behind the large mouthful of dessert. 

“Hmm. Many players often forget that move.” 

There was a sparkle in his eyes that told her he liked the challenge, welcomed it even. 

Good. She wasn’t going to let him off easy.

“Rules are rules,” she teased, before indicating for him to make his countermove. 

Azriel leant forward, settling his forearms on his knees, a determined gleam in his hazel eyes winking in the afternoon sun. Oh, he meant business now. But she remained poised in her seat; unperturbed, calm.

She was playing to win today. And she really wanted that pillbox.

*******

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[sevendeadlywhispers]

7Seals

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Chapter 19*

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•Previous Chapter: Chapter 18

•Next Chapter: Chapter 20

•Chapter List

•Content: Levi Ackerman × OC female. Slow Burn! Canon verse!

•Word Count: 3.5k

•Warning: This content may not be suitable for all readers. If you've watched all of AOT then you will understand that the show handles heavy subjects such as abuse, racism, violence, and other heavy subjects. This fanfiction will also have the same heavy themes. Chapters with heavy themes will be marked with (*) at each chapter.

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A/N: Hey babes! I’m back with a new chapter this week. Starting to get back into the swing of things. Hopefully you guys enjoy :) also I didn’t proof read this. I’m sorry for grammar mistakes. I’ll be going over it tonight🫶🏼

5-16-24

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Operation to reclaim Wall Maria

846

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The cobblestone streets whispered with an eerie quiet, as if mourning the fate that awaited us beyond the walls. Faces of the refugees bore the weight of uncertainty, their eyes reflecting the fear of the unknown. 

Women wept openly, their tears a silent plea for their loved ones to stay, while children clung desperately to their fathers, their tiny hands grasping for safety in the face of uncertainty.

This wasn't like any other expedition. It wasn't just my squad and comrades on standby. It was a procession of refugees, their presence a haunting reminder of the unspoken purpose behind our mission.

Wall Rose stood tall and imposing before us, a silent sentinel guarding the gruesome scene beyond. As we waited for the gates to rise, I perched atop my pale horse, my gaze sweeping over the anxious faces. Around me, grown men fidgeted nervously, their unease radiating off each other.

The tension in the air was thick, simmering with a mix of anticipation and fear. Even I couldn't shake the knot of anxiety that coiled in my stomach, but there was a twisted satisfaction in watching the discomfort spread among the men.

Among the throng of refugees, I recognized faces of those who once mocked us for venturing beyond the walls. Now, they stood before the same gates they once condemned, their fear etched into every line of their faces. It was a sight both chilling and strangely satisfying, knowing that they would now taste the same experience we do on a mission beyond the walls.

I relish the sight of fear in their eyes.

But beneath the surface of my amusement lay a deep-seated concern. These were not seasoned soldiers, but civilians thrust into a battlefield they were ill-prepared to navigate. Some rode atop wagons, others trudged alongside us on foot, equipped with the weapon of desperation. Their lack of experience was a glaring weakness, a vulnerability that threatened to undermine the entire mission.

As we prepared to venture beyond the safety of the walls, I couldn't shake the sinking feeling in my chest. This was my first expedition back, and already I found myself surrounded by incompetence masquerading as heroism.

Can I truly survive without him?

As I rode along the path, lost in my own thoughts, her voice shattered the silence like a thunderclap, pulling me back to the present. My gaze snapped to hers, narrowed with suspicion, as she sidled up beside me on her horse. Her green cloak billowed slightly in the wind, a feeble attempt to conceal her presence. I couldn't help but feel a surge of irritation at her audacity. Why was she here, meddling in affairs that didn't concern her?

"Why are you here?" I demanded, my tone laced with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

"Easy there," she retorted, her voice tinged with annoyance. "And lower your voice. I'm not exactly supposed to be here."

"No kidding. But seriously, why?" I pressed, unable to fathom her motives for defying direct orders.

Her brown hair tumbled messily around her shoulders, partially obscuring her face as she attempted to hide behind her cloak. It was a feeble disguise, but she knew that in the chaos of the expedition, her absence would likely go unnoticed until it was too late. She was always cunning, always finding a way to get what she wanted, even without leveraging her family name.

"I'm here because I refuse to let you hog all the excitement," she grumbled, her voice softening slightly as she met my gaze. "And I know this is your first mission back."

"I'm fine," I snapped, bristling at her concern.

"You don't seem fine. You're on edge," she observed, her words cutting through my defenses.

"Because you shouldn't be here," I shot back, my frustration boiling over. "You were explicitly ordered not to join this mission by three different commanders."

"I couldn't care less about my father's orders. And if I were anyone else, I'd be assigned to this recon mission," she countered defiantly. "Besides, your presence here isn't exactly authorized either. Don't think I didn't overhear you pleading with Captain Levi and Erwin last night to let you join."

As our voices clashed in a storm of disagreement, the gate opened and the crowd stirred, their footsteps echoing against the cobblestones, a somber rhythm marking our departure from the safety of Wall Rose.

"That's none of your business,"

"Likewise. Yet here we are," she quipped, her defiance matching my own.

"Okay, but the difference is, you're not ready for this. It's your first expedition—" I began, but she cut me off with a fierce glare.

"Don't pretend like you're ready either. Just because you're a veteran doesn't impress me," she shot back, her anger palpable. "We both know this is a suicide mission for you. I don't know how you got clearance, but I'm here to make sure you don't do anything stupid."

"As if I don't have enough to deal with," Levi's voice cut through, his tone laced with irritation as he addressed Lillie's presence. My body tensed instinctively, the rhythm of my horse's trot faltering momentarily beneath me.

I observed Lillie's feeble attempt to hide her identity, but Levi was having none of it. With a swift motion, he reached out and yanked her hood down, exposing her face to the unforgiving scrutiny of his gaze. His hand closed around her hair, holding her firmly in place as he forced her to meet his eyes.

"Thought you could sneak past me, huh?" Levi's voice was cold, his words dripping with disdain. There was no room for excuses or explanations in his steely glare—only a simmering anger that threatened to boil over at any moment.

Silence descended like a heavy shroud, broken only by the sound of our horses' hooves against the cobblestone streets. In that tense moment, Levi's gaze bore into Lillie's with an intensity that seemed to pierce through her very soul, leaving no room for doubt or evasion.

In the thick of tension, Levi's piercing gaze flickered between Lillie and me, his grip loosening on her head but his intensity only escalating.

"What in the hell are you two doing here?" His voice sliced through the charged air like a knife.

"Levi! Aldridge! Formation, now!"

My heart hammered against my ribs as Commander Erwin closed the distance, his presence imposing and commanding.

Levi's contempt dripped from his words as he directed his fury at Lillie.

"This little shit snuck out," he spat.

All eyes zeroed in on Lillie, the focal point of the storm, as Erwin's voice shattered the silence.

"Lillie. I see you disobeyed direct orders from not only me but Premier Zachary. Do you think this is a game?"

Commander Erwin's calm composure in the midst of a high-stress situation unnerves me to my core. It's not just the lack of visible anger that sets me on edge, but the cold, calculated way he maintains control. His steady gaze and measured words feel like a mask, concealing the storm of emotions I know must be churning beneath the surface. It's as if his tranquility is a form of passive aggression, a subtle way of asserting dominance without raising his voice. The disparity between his demeanor and the chaos around us makes me uneasy, amplifying the tension and leaving me feeling helpless and off balance.

"We both know if I were anyone else, I'd be on this recon mission," Lillie countered.

Erwin's voice reverberated with authority, each word laden with smoldering anger.

"Today is not the day to play soldier just because you want to rebel against your father. Today more than ten percent of our population faces imminent death. So I'm going to ask you again, do you think this is a game?"

His face flushed with intensity, Erwin's unwavering gaze bore into Lillie, demanding acknowledgment of the severity of their circumstances.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the chaotic ruined town. Titans lumbered through the streets that were once our home, their grotesque forms a nightmarish sight against the once peaceful landscape. The air was thick with tension and the acrid scent of fear as Scouts and refugees alike scrambled to hold their ground.

"Titan on the left!" a Scout's desperate cry rang out, piercing through the cacophony of terror. His horse thundered toward Erwin, hooves pounding against the earth.

"Two titans coming from the right!" another voice yelled, urgency lacing every word.

Levi's voice cut through the chaos, calm yet commanding.

"Abnormal coming from the center."

His eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation, the gravity of the unfolding carnage settling heavily on his shoulders.

In an instant, everything changed. Titans were pouring in from all directions, their monstrous figures dominating the horizon. It was always uncertain when we ventured beyond the walls, but this—this was a nightmare come to life.

Erwin's voice, authoritative and unwavering, broke through the chaos, "Keep her alive. That's an order for the two of you."

Without another word, he spurred his horse in another direction, riding off with a sense of urgency that only heightened the tension.

Levi's eyes locked onto us, intense and unyielding, "You heard him. Do not wander off. Either of you."

"You are not to be involved in any way. Your only concern is to stay the hell away from Titans. Do you understand me?" Levi's words were directed at Lillie, his tone growing sharper as the sounds of men being devoured grew louder around us. His face was a mask of controlled fury, the muscles in his jaw tightening with each passing moment.

"I'll be back. Don't get eaten."

Levi's command hung in the air, a lifeline amidst the chaos. As he rode off to confront the oncoming threat, I couldn't help but feel a pang of fear and admiration. His bravery was unmatched, but so was the danger he faced.

The world around us was a blur of movement and noise, but Levi's parting words anchored me in place. All I could do was hold our ground and pray that we would live to see another day.

Was today the day fate laughed in my face? All my hardships and perseverance was for nothing? Was Alexander right?

The monsters' feast had begun, an unholy banquet of blood and carnage that engulfed us in a sea of despair. The Titans, grotesque and merciless, tore through the masses with horrifying ease. It was a bloodbath, a nightmare unfolding before our very eyes, and we were powerless to stop it.

Lillie was beside me, her body trembling with fear. She shook her head in response to Levi's command, her eyes wide with terror. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she stared past us, her gaze fixed on the horrifying scene. She watched the Titans devour each refugee in their path, the hopelessness etched into her expression.

Men on foot scattered in all directions, their faces twisted in panic. They had no weapons, no ODM gear, nothing to defend themselves with. They were lambs to the slaughter, running blindly into the jaws of death.

No matter how many expeditions I had been on, this one felt different. It was numbing. The usual mix of fear and adrenaline was absent, replaced by a cold detachment. I watched the carnage with a strange sense of detachment, as if it were happening in another world. I wasn't scared. I didn't feel bad for those around me. It was as if I had become numb to the horror that surrounded us.

But then Lillie changed everything.

"Iris, we have to do something!" Her voice was a desperate whisper, trembling with a mixture of fear and determination.

I turned to her, my eyes meeting her tear-filled gaze. Her desperation pierced through my detachment, a stark reminder of the humanity that still clung to us in this hellish landscape. Levi's sharp command cut through the chaos.

"Stay put and don't do anything reckless." His eyes bore into us, the authority in his voice unyielding. But Lillie's terror was palpable, her eyes pleading for some form of action.

"Levi, we can't just stand here!" I shouted over the cacophony, my voice laced with a frustration that mirrored Lillie's desperation.

"Your orders are to stay alive," Levi snapped back, his voice like steel. "You're not equipped for this fight."

The sounds of men being devoured grew louder, each scream a dagger to the heart. I could see the resolve in Lillie's eyes faltering, her spirit crushed under the weight of the carnage.

"But they're dying out there!" Lillie cried, her voice breaking. "We have to help them!"

Levi's expression softened for the briefest moment, a flicker of empathy crossing his hardened features. But his resolve remained firm. "You're no good to anyone dead. Stay here and stay safe. Let the real soldiers work."

The cold reality of his words sank in, a harsh reminder of the world we lived in. The Titans showed no mercy, and neither could we afford to. Yet, as I looked into Lillie's eyes, I saw a reflection of my own soul—a soul that still clung to hope, to the belief that we could make a difference.

The numbness that had gripped me began to thaw, replaced by a steely determination. We might be outmatched, but we weren't powerless. There had to be something we could do, some way to turn the tide.

"Lillie, we stick together," I said, my voice steadying as I placed a hand on her shoulder. "We follow Levi's orders, but we don't give up hope. Not yet."

Her tears slowed, a flicker of resolve igniting in her eyes. She nodded, taking a deep breath as she steadied herself.

"I won't let them die in vain," she whispered, her voice firm with newfound determination.

The battlefield was a symphony of horror, each scream and roar a discordant note in the orchestra of death. Blood soaked the ground, turning it into a grotesque canvas of red and despair. Among the chaos, Lillie's voice pierced through, raw and broken.

"Is this what my father wanted?" she cried out, her hands buried in her face as she sobbed uncontrollably. She was oblivious to the danger around her, consumed by the sight of the people dying beside us.

"Clear your head," I urged, feeling the gravity of the situation tighten around us like a vice. "It's not the time for that. We need to stay alive."

We were surrounded by blood-curdling cries, each one a testament to the brutal reality of our situation. Everywhere I looked, someone was fighting for their life, a grim reminder that no one was safe.

"How?" Lillie screamed, her voice filled with anguish. "We are going to die. I can't fucking use ODM gear."

Her words cut through me, the desperation in her voice echoing the chaos around us. "All these people are dying right now because of my father," she whimpered, struggling to control her breath.

"My presence here isn't helping the situation."

I gripped her shoulders, forcing her to look at me. "Now is not the time for doubting," I said firmly, my eyes locking with hers. "You wouldn't be a Scout if you couldn't use your gear."

Her eyes were wide with fear, tears streaming down her face as she fought to steady herself. The reality of our situation was suffocating, but we couldn't afford to give in to despair.

"Focus, Lillie," I continued, my voice steady. "We've trained for this. You've trained for this. Trust in your abilities. Trust in us."

The battlefield was a nightmare, but we were Scouts. We were trained to face the impossible, to fight against overwhelming odds. Levi's orders echoed in my mind, a reminder of our duty. Stay alive. Don't get eaten.

"We have to move," I said, my grip on her shoulders firm. "Stay close to me. We'll get through this."

I grabbed Lillie's horse's lead, trying to pull her away from the open, but she slapped my hand away with surprising force.

"What the hell, Lillie? We need to get out of the open!" I snapped, my voice rising above the chaotic noise around us. My emerald eyes locked onto her tear-filled ones, and the playful spark that once danced there was replaced by a dark, hollow void.

"Erwin's right," she sniffled, her voice trembling. "I bought my way into the Scouts. I'm a fraud, Iris. I can't use ODM. I just wanted to piss my dad off."

"Don't worry about that now," I sighed, trying to push the shock and frustration aside. There was no time to process her confession. Grief and anger were luxuries we couldn't afford in the middle of a battlefield. "Just—"

But I was too late.

Before the words finished leaving my mouth, Lillie had already dismounted her horse. Time seemed to slow as I watched her walk away from her steed, stepping out into the open. My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of fear and disbelief paralyzing me.

"Lillie, no!" I screamed, but she didn't stop. She turned around to face me, arms outstretched to the sides, her gaze drifting upward to the sky. A single tear traced down her cheek as her eyes met mine. For a fleeting moment, she gave me a weak, pathetic smile.

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine," she said, her voice eerily calm. But the light in her eyes was gone, and it was clear she had lost all sense of reason. She stood there, a tragic figure against the backdrop of chaos, completely exposed.

My mind raced, unable to comprehend what was happening. Words spilled from my mouth, but I couldn't even hear them. My legs felt like lead, my body stiff with shock and horror.

And then it happened. A Titan's massive hand reached down, gripping Lillie's fragile body. She kept her eyes on mine, her lips parting to mouth something to me.

"I'll always..." The rest of her words were lost in a gurgle of blood. Her head lolled forward, her eyes wide and lifeless as the Titan swung her body around, smashing it repeatedly against the ground until she was unrecognizable.

My scream tore through the air, raw and anguished. The carefree, sassy Iris vanished in that moment, replaced by someone else entirely—someone shattered by the senseless loss of her friend. The battlefield blurred around me, the sounds of battle fading into a distant roar. All I could see was Lillie's broken body, all I could feel was a burning rage and helplessness.

Hands wrapped around my mouth, silencing my scream. My eyes never peeled away from Lillie's body, dangling lifelessly in the Titan's grip. The Titan's head, freshly severed, fell right in front of me, rolling to a stop as steam hissed from its neck. It was surreal, like a nightmare I couldn't wake up from.

I felt another person's warmth against my back, a stark contrast to the cold chill creeping over my skin. Their hand still covered my mouth while the other took the lead on my horse, guiding us away from the gruesome scene. I couldn't move, couldn't think; all I could do was stare as Lillie's body disappeared from view.

The hand finally released my mouth and pulled the green cloak over my head, shielding me from the horrors behind us. It was Levi, of course. His presence was unmistakable—cold, efficient, and utterly commanding.

Levi's hand tightened on my shoulder, a silent reminder that I was still here, still alive. But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. I looked up at him, my emerald eyes meeting his icy gray ones, searching for some hint of emotion. But Levi was as unreadable as ever, his face a mask of stoic determination.

"We need to move," he said, his voice low and steady, cutting through my haze of despair. "Iris, focus. We're not done yet."

I wanted to scream at him, to tell him that I was done, that I couldn't do this without Lillie. But I bit my tongue, knowing it would be pointless. Levi didn't do emotions. He didn't do breakdowns or tears. He did survival, and right now, that's all he expected from me.

With a heavy heart, I nodded, letting him guide me through the chaos. My mind raced with memories of Lillie—her laughter, her sass, her stubbornness that matched my own. She had been my light in the darkness, and now that light was snuffed out.

"Stay close," Levi ordered, his grip firm yet strangely comforting. I clung to that small comfort, the only thing keeping me from falling apart completely. We moved through the battlefield, dodging Titans and debris, every step a painful reminder of what I had lost.

The world stopped turning that day. I felt it deep in my bones. The birds stopped singing, the sky darkened, and the sun ceased to shine. When you died, Lillie, the little bit of joy I had in this bleak world died with you.

I died the moment you dismounted your horse. You didn't save me; you killed what was left of me. Everything seemed so pointless now, the fight, the struggle. How could I go on when the person who made this hellhole bearable was gone?

Lillian Pyxis. Why did you leave me?

[gossipsnake]

TIMING: Current, (the day after this) LOCATION: On the edge of The Pines and Seven Peaks PARTIES: Anita (@gossipsnake), Inge (@nightmaretist), Otis (@kodiacast), and Cass (@magmahearts) SUMMARY: Inge, through the ether, spots a familiar face out in the cold and seeks out help from Otis. They come across Magma and together try to save Anita from the cold. CONTENT WARNINGS: None

Anita could tell, as she floated in and out of consciousness on the forest floor, that she was nearly done shedding her old skin. The arrow wound that had previously penetrated deep into her abdomen was healed and the only evidence of the injury laid in the dark red blood stains of the scales that had been pushed off of her body, coiled up in the molted exoskeleton that was bunched up near the rattle at the end of her tail. Her body had done its job and healed itself from the unexpected attack that had taken place days earlier. But what her body could no longer do was transform back into her human form… or move at all, really. 

It was early morning, the sun not even peeking up over the mountains that surrounded her yet, and the freezing temperatures of the Maine winter had proven to be too much for the mojave lamia to overcome. With every ounce of might she could conjure, Anita tried to get up off her back. She tried to start the journey home, one slither at a time, but all she was able to do was twitch her tail ever so slightly and create a soft shaking rattle. It barely rivaled the winds that were whipping around her, not that she really expected anyone to be nearby to even hear her. “Lo siento,” escaped from her lips as she fought to keep herself awake. Lamia, like any cold blooded reptile, can’t handle extreme temperatures for long periods of time and Anita had been battling the cold for at least two days as she molted. Her quiet apology was to herself, and to her loved ones, for the carelessness that led to the dire circumstances she had found herself in. There was no talking her way out of this mess, though, not this time. She had to hope for a miracle, one she doubted she even deserved. 

_ 

She relished in the astral, her aching earthly body forgotten as she glanced down at Wicked’s Rest. This might as well be how she hiked, how she enjoyed the last hour of night before she was tied to the earthly plane again. Inge intended for it to be a moment of respite. Of course, her intentions never worked out — and as she looked down at the forest and its nightly critters, she halted. Another astral entity balked at her for stopping in her tracks but she didn’t much care. There was a snake on the forest ground, larger than average and with a scale pattern Inge knew. A scale pattern she’d stroked, appreciated, marveled at.

She manifested back onto the earthly plane, crouching at the sight of her. There was blood and scales and an arrow, abandoned but stained with the same blood. “Anita –” She found confirmation that it was indeed her colleague, friend and occasional lover as she crouched there. 

Inge was many things, but she wasn’t equipped to carry a snake that size home nor did she have any warmth to offer it. She too was coldblooded, after all, and her already measly physical strength was limited by her own healing injury. And so she offered a promise of return, dropped a pin on her phone and searched the astral for a helping hand. Requirements of said hand were as follows: not weird about shapeshifters, strong and willing to help. Preferably awake. She scoured her mind, scoured the town and ended up staring down at Otis, slumped on his couch but awake. She appeared in front of his door, banged on it and didn’t wait long to say what she needed when he opened it.

“Otis — hi, I need your help. A person needs your help!” Person, snake – same thing. Inge tugged at his arm. “You have a car? My friend, she’s in the woods, she’s …” She frowned. “Injured. She needs tending to.” A glance. “Discreetly.”

—

The firefighter had only just closed his eyes. The night shift wasn't a particularly hard or grueling slog, but it was long. Lots of little calls. Not a lot of sleep. Better though, he thought, than any big dangers. Fires were far more common this time of year than people realized. And usually electrical, which were so much more dangerous, had a much bigger capacity for lethal spread. 

Luckily, Wicked's Rest had afforded Otis some of its namesake in the sense that the only sights he saw that night were false alarms and easy fixes. A few fallen seniors, a few folks caught out in the cold in need of shelter, a few more mysteriously dizzy and fatigued, always coming out of that strange fancy bar downtown. Dan's Cabra or whatever. Otis didn't really get what goats had to do with alcohol and dizzy patrons without a drop of alcohol in their bloodstream. Always coy about how they got into that state. He didn't pry much either though. Just did his job, until he could go home. 

Home was a run down walkup, third floor apartment. The front door didn't lock, the paint was cracked, peeling, and probably far more lead filled than the landlord would ever admit. It was creaky, leaky, and drafty. But he was allowed to make alterations to one of the rooms enough that he had a good recording studio, and that's all Otis really needed. He was a simple guy. Why would he need fancy things? No one needed those amenities, like a dishwasher, or an actual bed, or a doorbell. People who visited seemed to manage just fine. 

The knock came, the bear groaned. A long low sigh set into the pillow he'd crashed into upon arriving home. It took a considerable effort to peel himself off the couch, to walk the short space between there and the door, and he hesitated before opening it because… there was a shade of fear on the other side. Unease. Worry. Not as potent as proper fear, but still present. Still something that made Otis' tummy twinge at the thought of seeing whoever it belonged to. 

Worse, when he opened the door, it was a familiar face. Inge Endeman. The professor, or something. From the college? That was the second place they met, or was it the first? Either way, Inge was a face he wouldn't soon forget. Not with the way she tracked him down, made him spill his metaphorical bear beans and give up a dire secret he'd promised his mamas he'd never tell another living soul. Otis couldn't say he was happy to see her, but the moment she explained he was already locked into whatever this mission was. Someone was in need. That's all he needed to know. 

“Yeah. Truck. Where we goin’?” 

—

She didn’t sleep much these days. If asked, she’d insist it was because superheroes didn’t sleep much, anyway. Batman wasn’t known for taking naps, after all, and Daredevil probably hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in years. It was a solid excuse. It made sense, it was easy to claim, it could be backed up with hundreds of issues of comic books providing ‘proof.’

But it was still just an excuse.

The truth was something far less fun. The truth was far more tied to the warden’s hand that she still felt gripping her throat months later, to the empty spot beside her where Alex used to sleep, to the crypt where she and her friends had faced down Metzli’s sire and left behind so much dust and ash that sometimes she still felt as though she was choking on it. Superheroes didn’t sleep, but Cass hadn’t felt like a superhero in months now, and she was awake, anyway. She didn’t want to think about what that probably meant.

Walking helped, sometimes. Feeling the Earth beneath her bare feet, pretending she could still help people if she tried hard enough. She was out in the woods tonight, close to the road but not too close. The odds of running into someone in need of a hero were low, but she had her glamour down, anyway, like she was still Magma, still useful. She heard the occasional car on the roadside, people going home from work or the bar or wherever people went at this hour, but nothing of note.

At least, not until one of those cars stopped. 

She was curious; she usually was. She moved towards the sound carefully, prepared to peer out from a well-hidden spot where she wouldn’t be seen until she spotted —

“Otis?” Superheroes and firefighters had a ‘working relationship,’ and Cass had run into Otis more than once. But there was no firetruck nearby, and the only thing resembling flames that she could feel was her own magma. “What are you doing here? What’s —” The passenger door opened, and Cass blinked at the unfortunately familiar woman who stepped out. “Oh. Um, if you guys are going to… do something weird in the woods, can you wait until I leave?”

—

She was glad for many things. Glad that Otis wasn’t like her, ready to question everything she said, pressing to find out the truth. Glad that he didn’t ask how she’d gotten there, why she’d known he was awake, why she was asking him. Inge wasn’t often overrun with appreciation for the naive and kindhearted but today she was. “The woods.” 

She got in the driver’s seat, glad that he had a truck and she didn’t have to sink down far to get into it. She looked for somewhere to put her phone, but soon realized the truck was from the year pre-smartphone and gave up. “Just straight ahead,” she said, turning on navigation on her phone and instructing Otis to their point of destination. Of course they couldn’t drive the car all the way to where she’d found Anita (though Inge wouldn’t be opposed to it — trees regrew). So they parked, a small walk away from where her serpentine friend was. She gave Otis a small rundown, omitted some details because she figured it’d be easier if he just asked whatever questions popped in his head. She wasn’t sure how far she could trust him, after all. Desperate times, though.

Upon exiting the car, Inge was ready to start a brisk walk that would have her regret it later, when the pain settled deeper in her muscles. For now, though, she was focused. Hopeful, almost, but mostly dealing with that powerless fury that came after the damage done by hunters. If her back and gut didn’t hurt still, she’d almost consider revenge.

But before she could even start, there was another figure joining the scene. Her eyes fell on the girl who’d poured lava into her bag and narrowed. “Scram,” she told her, voice tight. “Leave now. That way.” She pointed in the opposite direction. “Bye. We have weird things to do. No time to be robbed.” Inge looked at Otis and nudged her head in the direction her phone was pointing them. “Come on.”

—

Very few people accused Otis of having the grit to rub together two thoughts to make an idea, but this was something he had studied for. Something he knew quite a bit about. “Hypothermia.” He stood firm between the strange woman and the stranger superhero. He didn't know how Magma did her special effects, or if it was just another trick of his overactive imagination, but the girl did put off a magnitude of heat that would be down right useful at a time like this. 

“You said it was hypothermia, Miss Inge, we could use all the help we kin get.” The bear nodded towards the hero, a little star struck as he'd always been every time she was on the scene. The firefighters had a sort of… section for the weird shit in town. Otis, unknowingly, had been sorted right in. He didn't notice that his company had a knack for hitting emergencies all over town rather than just in one small neighborhood. He didn't notice that the others on shift with him also had a strangeness about them. Better suited to work in teams against the oddness the town had to offer. There was a reason Otis and his company kept running into Magma, a reason they'd given the hero the number that went straight to their station. Otis didn't know, but he was happy to see the vigilante every time. Made him feel special. Like the background character in a comic book that got featured for a page. Even got a line here and there. 

“Magma, we do need your help. Please.” 

—

It wasn’t as if she was surprised that sketchbook lady remembered her. Cass was pretty memorable. She left a lasting impression, she turned heads! Still, she’d hoped that the woman might be the ‘forgive and forget’ type. No such luck, apparently. Rolling her eyes, Cass prepared herself to walk away, but something in Otis’s voice stopped her.

Hypothermia? 

“Who has hypothermia?” Cass glanced between the two, but neither of them seemed quite ‘cold’ enough to set off any alarm bells there. “That’s definitely something I can help with. Tell me what you need?” 

And so, Otis did. He explained why ‘Miss Inge’ (no way was Cass giving sketchbook lady that level of respect!) found him the way she had, that there was someone who needed help in the woods. Was there ever any question about whether or not Cass was going to lend a helping hand? She might not have been a very good superhero, especially not anymore, but she was still a superhero. She wanted to be better, to do better. She really did.

When Otis was done, she glanced to Inge. “Look,” she said, “I don’t care if you like me or not.” Her stomach churned with the lie. “I want to help. And you’d be stupid not to let me help, by the way, since heat is kind of my whole thing! So lead the way, and I’ll save the day. Deal?”

—

The wispy auburn hair and doe eyes felt like a vision to the lamia as she fought to keep hold of her own consciousness. But everything inside of Anita was running slowly and running out of time, including all inklings of rational thought. The woman she was looking up at was devastatingly beautiful and for a brief moment Anita wondered if this was the face of death coming to collect her. But the eyes were too familiar, just like the voice that spoke her name, and just as she was able to place that familiarity it was gone with the slow blink of her eyes. The interaction seemed so quick that it hadn’t even felt real. Why would Inge have been out here in the woods? If she had been here, why would she have left just as quickly as she appeared? 

No, Anita convinced herself, it was a hallucination. Her mind was crying out for help and so it manifested a glimmer of hope for itself. The choice for that hope was curious. She had time to think about all of the people she would want to see before the end as she laid there over the past forty eight hours trying to heal herself and, admittedly, Inge hadn’t quite made the list. Her mind had gone straight to family, to Metzli. And as the cold had continue to set in, Anita thought about her blood -  those she left behind in Mexico. 

Seeing Inge, even for that fleeting moment, made Anita realize just how closed off she was to this town. Isolating herself had always felt like a defense mechanism but now she was surrounded by the manifestation of that isolation and it was painful. It hadn’t protected her at all but instead made her vulnerable. Her eyes had shut again and she didn’t quite have a sense of how much time had passed when they managed to slowly flutter open again. Something had stirred her some noise off in the distance. 

With exceptional difficulty as her body felt like it was freezing solid, the lamia managed to shift her head up towards whatever she had heard. It was just enough for Anita to see some heat signatures off in the distance. One was just faintly warmer than the freezing temperatures surrounding them, one seemed rather normal, and one burned a heat she had only seen a few times before. Was her mind imagining this, too? “Cass…?,” she whispered faintly, undoubtedly too quietly to be heard from such a distance.

_ 

Otis called the little lava-flowing thief Magma and Inge would have laughed if it wasn’t for the situation. She was no good at this — she wasn’t like the other two people standing on this forest floor. There was no heroic bone in her body, but she’d be damned if she let Anita lay on that forest floor looking as she did. And though she wasn’t sure what happened, she assumed a hunter had loosened that arrow. She was done with losing things at the hands of hunters. Dignity. Lovers. A feeling of safety.

She glared between them. She wasn’t sure what ‘Magma’ was, but there was something about her that was hot, that she knew. Otis seemed to think she could help and she seemed overly eager (she tried not to be annoyed by this) and Inge was pragmatic enough to not opt for an argument in a situation like this. “My friend. Fine. You can help.”

With that, she started walking, attempting to walk as straight as possible, to not show the limp she’d gained since the factory. Her eyes were focused on her phone and Inge wished it was dark so she could travel through another plane of existence instead of figuring out the way over small forest paths that didn’t agree with her slippery shoes. She looked at ‘Magma’, wondered how far she could trust her. Probably farther than she could throw her, but she didn’t want to spare itt o her. “What is it you can do? Is it magic? Doesn’t matter. She’s cold, my friend. She’s … Lamia.” She’d figure it out when they came across her anyway. “I don’t know what happened. But she’s hypothermic, like Otis said.” 

As they neared the red pin on her phone’s map, Inge pushed through her pain and upped her pace, leaves sticking to her heels as she stepped off the path and into the thick of it. She didn’t care much about the branches that got stuck in her hair, just kept her eyes sharp for the familiar shape of Anita. When she reached her, she crouched down, face pulled in an expression she blamed on the sear of pain in her abdomen. “I brought reinforcements. Okay? Gonna get you out of here.”

—-

Admittedly, when Inge came to Otis, banging on his door, a fresh new flavor of fear flowing off her in droves, the bear didn't expect a snake to be the victim (or snictim, he supposed) in need of rescuing. A big snake, but a snake all the same. Enough people were scared of the slinky noodlers that Otis probably could have made several meals just being a wildlife photographer, though, he weren't terribly sure how well that'd work or what the rules to his special dietary restrictions were. 

Didn't matter that much though, this… very very large snake clearly meant a lot to Inge, so who was Otis to judge, really? He'd already resisted the urge to ‘woah’ upon seeing her. Best just to keep up the polite play and help a critter out. The firefighter had brought a trauma blanket, as well as a small kit (that was much more suited to a human, but the basics would likely work the same.) He was far too focused on the job at hand to figure out what the other two were jawing about. Magic? Well, no the superhero might've looked magical, but it had to be some fancy science, right? Something else Otis wouldn't really understand much of. But magic didn't exist. 

“Right miss… snake. I'm gonna pick you up now, just gonna ask real nice of you not to bite me, kay?” Otis got to work, gathering the majority of the snake up into his arms before turning towards the other two. “This… changes up the tactic a little. Gonna need somewhere we can warm her up slowly and consistently. Not too much all at once.” 

—-

Cass listened as Inge provided more details. Her friend was a lamia — something Cass only knew about thanks to Anita, and Metzli’s cohabitation with her. She thought about the woman now, about whether or not she should call her for advice on this whole thing, but that would totally ruin her reputation. Besides, it seemed simple enough — Inge’s friend was cold, and Cass was hot. The math was pretty easy to do, even for someone who’d never seen the inside of a classroom.

She trailed along behind Inge and Otis as they made their way through the woods, wondering just how Inge’s friend had been hurt to begin with. Had it been an accident? Or was there something more sinister at play? Cass’s mind went, the way it so often did, to that hand around her throat. Her hand came up the gently touch her neck as if she could still feel it there, and she walked with a bit more determination. Closer and closer to where Inge was leading them, until - 

“Anita?” She recognized the form on the ground instantly. From the cave when Luci was fixing the goo situation, from the crypt with Metzli’s sire. She’d always thought Anita’s snake form was beautiful, but right now, with it so still and so quiet, Cass felt an overwhelming amount of panic. She rushed over to the snake’s side, only to falter when Otis got there first. He was speaking, and he seemed to know what he was talking about, so Cass listened. She nodded, eyes never leaving Anita. “Tell me what I need to do, and I’ll do it. Just — She can’t die. Okay? She can’t.” 

—

Anita could feel the stiffness of her body growing more intense and it made everything, including and especially staying awake feel all the more impossible. Even in her weakened state her hearing hadn’t failed her and it didn’t take long until she began to hear the soft crunch of footsteps making their way towards her. The sounds, those gentle vibrations that ran through the forest floor, felt more real than anything her eyes had seen in the past several hours. So when she saw Inge crouched beside her again Anita decided to believe what she was seeing, too. 

There was a stranger present as well. A man she didn’t recognize by sight, smell, or sound. He had a soothing tone to the way he spoke, though. If Anita were more present in her own body she would have really enjoyed being called Miss. Snake. There was no power left in her to tell him she wouldn’t bit him… let alone enough energy to actually bite anything. And then she saw Cass and it all started to feel like the scene at the end of the Wizard of Oz - and you were there, and you were there… 

The guy who was lifting her up seemed to have a plan that involved getting Anita warm and there was a soft sense of relief that rushed over her. That mixed with the looks of such genuine concern that were evident on both Inge and Cass’ faces began to feel overwhelming. Her eyes drifted from Inge, to the man carrying her, then over to Cass and she was almost glad that she was in such a catatonic state at the moment so she did not have to actually grapple with the reality of the emotions that were brewing inside of her. 

Too tired to speak, Anita let out a soft and slow “Hsssssss,” something she hoped would translate into her appreciation. She wasn’t out of the cold yet, literally, but she no longer felt she was destined to rot away out here in the Pines. 

_

So ‘Magma’ knew who Anita was. Inge figured that to be a good thing considering that seemed to mean she cared about the other. Otis, though he seemed quite out of his depth, also shot into action at the sight of the snake. Maybe she should have told him about the other woman being a shapeshifter, but she had just assumed he’d know about these things the same way she knew about plenty of things. Again, this wasn’t her forte. But she seemed to have delegated quite well.

She kept her eyes glued to Anita, taking a small step back to let the others take charge. Her eyes flicked between the two other party members, landed on ‘Magma’. “She won’t.” Her answer was resolute, because that’s how Inge felt. She thought of reptiles lying on warm stones, under warm lights or even the sun. “You – what you did, the other night. You can make yourself warm. Do that. Not as hot as then, but warm. Can you do that?”

She moved to stand next to Otis and Anita, leaving plenty of room for ‘Magma’ to warm the lamia’s body. She remembered the touch of Dīs when she’d been found, how welcome it had been after that stretch of unending pain. Her fingers reached for Anita’s, weaving with hers and giving a small squeeze. “Give a squeeze if it’s too hot?” She looked at lava girl, wished her eyes still glowed their demanding red but the forest was no longer as dark as it had been. “Can you walk with her to the car, Otis, as —” She refused to call her Magma, so just looked at her, “— you try and give her some gradual warmth?”

—

Otis nodded. His part was easy, for what it was worth. The massive snake coiled in his arms, reminding him of the time his moms had brought him to an animal education center. They were there picking up some supplies, but the lady that was running it allowed the young bear to hold an anaconda. The scales felt different, the whole snake felt different, but maybe that's just cause this had to be a northern snake. Things got bigger in the cold, right? Something about having to preserve energy cause it got way too chilly up here. Sounded right enough. Otis didn't really know much about biology, much less about things that didn't live on the ranch. 

His mama used to say that Otis’ bear must have been built for the north. Maybe that's why he picked this place out of anywhere to settle and get research done. All the frozen weather had made him was sleepy, though. And thankful for the cluster of days he always had off. 

The trip back to the truck was a little harder than the trek in. The trauma blanket looked like a foil tarp over the world's largest lumpy burrito. Probably clocking in at almost half a ton, but it was rude to ask a lady her weight, and it wasn't like the snake was going to answer. No, Otis just had to guesstimate by the ache in his shoulders by the time they'd hiked back a mile to the road. He was strong, but not necessarily built for endurance. The sight of the little blue pickup was a welcome one, that's for sure. 

“Ain't enough room in the cab, but if you can do yer… hero stuff in the bed, I can start drivin’ us somewhere safer. Miss Inge, where are we headin’?” 

—

Inge considered the question. Did she care more about letting a known thief into her house and risking getting her shit stolen or did she care more about helping Anita? The latter it was, an easy decision in the end. “My house. I’ll give directions.” Considering he didn’t have a navigation system. And she was the boomer. “It’s in Deersprings, so not too far.”

—

Anita hissed, and Cass wasn’t sure if it was a bad thing or a good one that she sounded more snake than human right now. (Probably bad, right? Everything seemed bad when she was like this, everything.) Cass found herself distracted as she stared at Anita’s scales, almost missing Inge’s words. Luckily, she snapped back to herself pretty quickly, nodding her head. “I can get warm,” she confirmed. Focusing on her hand, she pulled some of the magma away from the limb so that it was warm instead of hot and rested it in the center of Anita’s scaly chest.

It was a little hard, walking with Otis with her hand in place while also concentrating on keeping it the right temperature. It was a little bit like patting your head and rubbing your stomach at the same time; signals got a little crossed and, if you weren’t careful, you’d get the two mixed up. Cass was careful, though. She wasn’t going to mess this up, wasn’t going to risk making things worse for Anita. Still, it was a relief when they got back to the truck. Cass had never been so happy to see a vehicle in her life. 

“I can sit in the back,” she agreed with an eager nod. “I’ll warm her up. You just focus on getting us somewhere safe, okay?”

—

The first rush of warmth that extended out from Cass’ hands felt like a shock to Anita’s system. It wasn’t that the temperature was too hot necessarily, but it was just such a contrast to how deeply chilled her body had gotten. Then she felt the cool grasp of a hand in her own, which provided a similar comfort to the heat radiating around her now. The relief was not instantaneous but gradual, wavering slightly as the unlikely group trekked out of the woods and towards a questionable looking pick-up truck. It was apparent that she was beginning to feel at least slightly more okay given that the first thought that crossed her mind was whether or not that was the only means of transportation available to them. Evidently, as she got gently loaded into the bed of the truck, it was. 

Even though she had never gotten this cold before there was some instinctual part of Anita that knew a few minutes of heat was not going to be enough to really shake her out of this state that she was in. If it had been, she would have told everyone that her house was undoubtedly closer than Inge’s and equipped with a room full of heat lamps. Cass was generating more heat than her lamps could really even dream of, though, and Anita didn’t hate the idea of going somewhere where she wouldn’t be alone. 

As the truck drove along the back roads of Wicked’s Rest, undoubtedly a startling sight for anyone who may have been awake and spotted her in the back, Anita started to feel like she could move herself ever so slightly.  “Thank you,” she said softly to Cass, feeling a mix of gratefulness and embarrassment at the circumstances. It wouldn’t be long until they were at Inge’s place and truly out from the cold. 

_ 

She got back into the driver’s seat, stuffing her phone in her coat pocket as she got ready to give Otis directions when needed. She flipped down the sun visor and glanced at Anita and ‘Magma’ in the van’s bed. Her legs spread as far as they could, her body protesting against the walking she’d done but something in Inge feeling relieved all the same. In her mind’s eye she saw Sanne’s neck and the axe that undone her head from there, thought of other undead she’d lost over the years. 

Anita would be alright and that was enough for now. No room for the rage, the fear, the concern. Just the process of getting her to her house. She took her eyes off the thief and her friend, glanced at Otis. “You’re going to have to turn right up ahead, and then a left immediately.” 

Her eyes switched from Otis to the view at the back of the car to the road and eventually she said, “Thanks. For coming without question. For — carrying her.” He could have thrown the door in her face, considering the sleuthing she’d done, the intrusive way she’d dug into his life and dangled his hidden truth into his face. It said something in favor of his character, something she’d usually think of as below her. How could she do that now, though? When both the bugbear and the lava girl had jumped at the chance to help, despite her own conflicts with them? Inge wasn’t sure how she felt about it. 

But this too paled in comparison with the mission still at hand. So she kept pointing Otis into the direction of her house until they’d reached it, rushing out the car to check in on ‘Magma’ and Anita. “I’ll open the door. It’s just up there, third floor, there’s an elevator.”

—

Otis followed directions well. Part of being a firefighter. You had someone behind the wheel, and someone navigating the fastest way to wherever you needed to be. Whenever you needed to be there. That’s just what this was, wasn’t it? Inge had turned to him, thanked him like there ever was a question. He just nodded. Words escaping him now that he was on a mission. Still on a mission. Before was… direction. He had to speak because he had to take charge. He wasn’t a man of many words, at least not in person. Wasn’t as easy to get tongue tied behind the mic. But here? In the cab of his car with a creature in need in the back it didn’t matter that she wasn’t human, Otis thought, only that she had so many people who cared so deeply for her. 

Once again, the snake was in the bear’s arms. Coiled up and under a blanket, but he could tell she felt warmer. Good. Whatever Magma had in that fancy suit was powerful. Did a damn good job. Made Otis wish they had those down at the station. Maybe he’d ask her about it later. Ah, but, he had said he’d only use the number for emergencies. Right? He wasn’t too sure where the line fell. 

He followed directions again, this time leading the small group into the home that was also pretty damn cold. Otis settled the large snake where told, and stood rather awkwardly after. This was the part that the EMTs usually left. The part where he usually left. Was he supposed to leave now? His job was done. 

“Right. So.” His eyes flicked between the three ladies of the house and– was that an arm? Nah, just another trick of his imagination, right? Otis nodded again. “Call me if you need anythin’ yeah?” And with that, he turned. 

— 

Anita spoke, and it was the best thing Cass had ever said. The thanks washed over her and, for once, there was no hesitation in the way she released it. “You don’t have to thank me,” she said quietly, stroking Anita’s head absently. “Just be okay. I just need you to be okay.” With everything that had been going on lately, she didn’t think she could have handled losing Anita, too, even if they didn’t know one another as well as Cass might have liked. She wouldn’t want that for Metzli, or for Anita, either. Anita was always willing to help where Metzli was concerned; Cass liked to think the lamia would do the same for her, too. 

Eventually, they arrived at what must have been Inge’s house. Cass wondered if she should have told Otis to take them to Anita’s house instead, but… maybe this was better. She could text Metzli, let them know what was going on, and Anita could choose how much to share with them after the fact. After the way the night had gone, Cass thought that Anita deserved some choice in the matter of how it concluded.

Cass hovered as Otis lifted Anita from the truck, keeping a hand on her at all times to continue the warming process. She followed, worry practically pouring from her as they took Anita to rest her where Inge had indicated. Cass plopped down close to the lamia, wrapping a warmed arm around her.

Turning to Otis, she offered him a smile. “It was really good of you to help,” she said. Hesitantly, she added, “Thank you.” She could owe Otis a favor; there were far worse people to be indebted to. Glancing to Inge, she chewed her lip carefully. “I want to stay to help her warm up more. If that’s okay? I want to make sure she’s all right. I’m friends with her roommate — they’re probably really worried.”

—

There was such a subtle intimacy in the way Cass spoke and warmed up the lamia. Anita had developed a great fondness for her but would have never thought that the sentiment was mutual, or would result in such compassion and care. She understood why Metzli seemed to consider her to be family. She understood why having someone to care for you felt so good. 

The truck pulled into the driveway that Anita had driven into more than a few times herself, and even though everything still ached, there was an undoubtable relief that fell over her. She was warming, slowly, but enough that the dread of death had begun to fade and was steadily being replaced by the dread of embarrassment. Embarrassed that she had gotten herself in this predicament to begin with, embarrassed she needed to be rescued, and dreading the conversations she expected to need to have once she was back to being herself again. 

Once again she found herself being transported by the tall, strong stranger up into the house. Nearly as soon as he placed her down, he was turning to leave before Anita could even express any gratitude. For now, all she had left to do was get her strength back. All she had to do was let these two people who had grown to be important parts of her life help her. It was an uneasy feeling but it was far better than the alternative - a circumstance she never wanted to find herself in again.

[amber-gimlet]

I stand by my complaints about there not being enough spear classes in GBF but I did just notice the Iatromantis passive for having two spears equipped is guaranteed TA and bonus damage and you can be a bootleg Lily (Water).

which is like. Enough. It's enough.

My wind party that isn't ultima sword uses Kaguya already, so Pneuma being a manual click isn't that big a deal.

And for every other party where I want to use a spear over any other weapon, I can just run Double Trouble III and Twin Coil.

[acmemechatronics1]

The Different Types of Coil Winding Machines: Which One is Right for You?

Coil winding machines are at the heart of the manufacturing process for many electrical components, such as transformers, motors, solenoids, and inductors. Whether you're a large-scale manufacturer or a smaller shop producing custom coils, choosing the right winding machine can significantly influence your efficiency, product quality, and overall production costs.

In this article, we’ll explore the different types of coil winding machinery available today, their key features, and which applications each type is best suited for. We’ll also take a look at how companies like ACME Mechatronics, a leading manufacturer, supplier, and exporter of coil winding machines, are advancing the technology to meet the diverse needs of the industry.

1. Single-Spindle Coil Winding Machines

Single-spindle coil winding machines are the most basic and traditional type of winding equipment. These machines are designed for simple, low-volume applications where winding coils of uniform size and shape is a priority.

Features:

Manual or Semi-Automatic Operation: Single-spindle machines may be either manually operated or have basic automated functions like programmable speed and tension control.

Versatility: While typically used for smaller or custom coils, they can wind a variety of wire types, from fine to thick gauge wire.

Low-Cost Option: Ideal for smaller businesses or those with budget constraints, these machines are generally more affordable compared to fully automatic systems.

Applications: Single-spindle machines are ideal for small production runs and prototypes, where custom coil specifications and flexibility are essential. Industries such as electronics, small transformers, and speaker manufacturing commonly use these machines.

2. Multi-Spindle Coil Winding Machines

Multi-spindle coil winding machines are designed to handle multiple winding operations simultaneously, making them ideal for high-volume production environments. Each spindle can wind an independent coil or be synchronized to create multiple coils in a single pass.

Features:

Increased Productivity: These machines allow you to wind several coils at once, greatly improving production speed.

Higher Precision: Multi-spindle systems often come with advanced tension control and automatic wire feeders for greater winding accuracy.

Customization Options: Many multi-spindle machines are designed with adjustable spindle heads, allowing for different coil shapes and sizes.

Applications: Multi-spindle machines are best suited for large-scale production runs where consistency, speed, and high output are required. They are used in industries like automotive, power generation (e.g., motor coils), and large-scale transformer winding machines.

3. Automatic Coil Winding Machines

As automation continues to play a key role in manufacturing, automatic winding machines have become more common. These machines offer full automation in winding processes, minimizing human intervention and increasing precision.

Features:

Full Automation: Automatic winding machines can control every aspect of the winding process, including speed, wire tension, coil layering, and cut-off operations.

Programmability: Operators can program the machine to produce coils of various sizes, shapes, and wire gauges, making them highly flexible for different applications.

Advanced Sensors and Feedback Loops: These machines often come with built-in sensors that track performance metrics like tension, temperature, and even wire position to ensure optimal winding quality.

Applications: Automatic winding machines are used in high-volume, precision-driven industries such as telecommunications, medical devices, and automotive electronics. They are particularly effective for industries that require coils with high accuracy, such as in the production of transformers, inductors, and solenoids.

4. CNC Coil Winding Machines

CNC (Computer Numerical Control) coil winding machines offer the highest level of precision and flexibility, making them suitable for complex and custom winding applications. These machines are driven by computer programs that control every movement of the machine, allowing for incredibly detailed and intricate coil designs.

Features:

Computer-Controlled Precision: CNC winding machines are capable of performing complex coil winding tasks with high precision, making them suitable for specialized applications like aerospace, medical equipment, and research & development.

Custom Programming: Operators can design and save coil winding programs for different products, which can then be recalled for future production runs.

Multi-Axis Capability: Many CNC coil winders are equipped with multi-axis capabilities, allowing for the creation of coils in multiple directions or complex geometries.

Applications: CNC coil winding machines are ideal for specialized industries that require highly customized and detailed coils. These include medical device manufacturers, aerospace engineers, and manufacturers of high-tech inductors and transformers.

5. Horizontal vs. Vertical Coil Winding Machines

Coil winding machines are available in both horizontal and vertical configurations, each with its advantages depending on the specific application and space constraints.

Horizontal Coil Winding Machines:

Space-Efficient: Typically used in environments where floor space is limited.

Suitable for Larger Coils: Horizontal machines can handle larger coils and are often preferred for large electrical motors or power transformers.

Vertical Coil Winding Machines:

Faster Setup: Vertical machines can be easier to load and unload, reducing setup times.

Better for Smaller Coils: Vertical machines are often used for winding smaller components like solenoids, speakers, and precision transformers.

6. Specialized Coil Winding Equipment

Some coil winding equipment is designed for specific applications that require custom features or specialized winding techniques.

Features:

Precision Layering: Some machines offer the ability to precisely layer wires, essential for creating coils that need to meet specific impedance or resistance requirements.

Overhead Coil Winding: For large coil sizes, overhead winding machines help to support the weight and manage the tension of the coil.

Magnetic Coil Winding: Machines specifically designed for magnetic coils or coils that require fine, uniform wire tension are available for industries like sensor manufacturing.

Applications: Specialized winding machines are used in industries that require unique coil designs or specific features, such as research and development labs, high-frequency transformers, or magnetic field generators.

Conclusion

Choosing the right coil winder is crucial for optimizing production and ensuring consistent product quality. Whether you need a simple, manual coil winding equipment for low-volume runs or an advanced automatic winding machine for high-precision and high-volume production, the type of machine you select will depend on your specific application requirements.

At ACME Mechatronics, a trusted manufacturer, supplier, and exporter of coil winding machinery, you can find a wide range of solutions designed to meet the diverse needs of the coil winding industry. Their innovative machines, designed for both high precision and efficiency, are trusted by manufacturers across various sectors.

With so many options available, how do you determine which coil winding machine is the best fit for your business?

[kaze-writes]

Heads Up, Seven Up

Oooooh, thank you for tagging @kc-the-writer !

7 (okay, 8) lines (okay paragraphs) from When Stars Ignite (reloaded fancy original version) for you:

(Bonus points of you remember the scene from the first version)

The temperatures had dropped, the air on her bare arms icy as Lizzie stepped outside the arena. A drizzle had set in earlier in the evening, making her pull up her shoulders against the cold water and the wind carrying the spray almost to the wall of the building. 

Rubbing her arms and thinking wistfully about her jacket still lying forgotten on the floor back in the corridor, Lizzie cast a look around. The arena’s backyard was barely lit, big, overflowing bins and stray pieces of equipment that looked almost forgotten lining the concrete walls. It was quieter here than it was out front, but the sound of the busy street going past the building was still audible here, the city around them never entirely quiet.

A little to the side, two figures were standing, half obscured in the shadow cast by the dim lights above the heavy metal door Lizzie had just stepped through. Both of them turned their heads when it fell shut behind her, the sound unnaturally loud in the rainy night. 

The taller of the two - Orion, how Lizzie saw after her eyes had adjusted to the half-light - brought his hand to his face, the orange gleam of the cigarette between his fingers illuminating his face as he took a drag. He looked resigned and tired, beaten to a point that made a fist coil around Lizzie’s heart.

“Here you are.”

“Here I am,” Orion said, not meeting her eye. 

“What are you doing out here? It’s freezing.”

“As it appears, I’m having a cigarette.”

Tagging @lavender-laney @alyslaskeywriter @lyatudor for the funsies

[frostybearpaws]

The land outside of Vanth’s heated dome is a wasteland made of glittering spires of ice and layers of snow packed down from centuries of build up.

Without the proper equipment, or a good heating charm, going outside the walls was an action that usually resulted in one’s death. At least for a soft bellied Vanthion like those living in the inner city. “The Garden” they liked to call it in their nasally, posh accents through their perfect white teeth and well kept fangs. 

Its name comes from the variety of off-wold, exotic, (and illegal) flora they liked to showcase in their yards and decorate their homes with:

Endangered purple sunroses that only grow in clusters of the Arabonian forests being cleared for bova farm land and struggle to survive anywhere else. 

Sprawling gully vines, allowed to climb up houses and produce flowers that smelled like artificial Vesper strawberries and bore fruits the shape of silver raindrops. 

Tears of Gully, they were called and while Shaya’Jax had never tasted one for herself, she had heard they held the flavor of honied petrichor. The Vespens would harvest them every season and had a hundred uses for them. Preserves, deserts, sauces. The Elite of Vanth just let them rot on the stems and fertilize the ground. A waste. 

Ringed willows with long twisting silver trunks and curlycue branches adorned with spirals of coiling teal leaves. When the cold, white light filtered in through the protective shields and titanium woven glass, the bark and leaves gave off a metallic luster which danced in the artificial wind.

Weeping darkwoods, obsidian black trees which leak a sour red sap often smuggled from the planes of Pannexus. 

Shrill shrubs whose form is a woven network of hardened stems which tease and curl around one another. Sometimes they are tamed into shapes, other times they are allowed to sprawl into any form they wish, most of the time they are uncreatively used as hedges. They are crafted in such a way that when the vent gusts blow through them, they let out a low mournful cry, hence their name. 

They also produce a star-shaped fruit, a little five pointed berry the color of neon blue. Shaya’Jax once snuck a few from a bush. They weren’t ripe though, the sourness turned her mouth inside out, suppose that’s what she gets for stealing (it would have gone to waste anyway). Another time she had been luckier, the trick was to take them when they had darkened to such a deep shade of blue they looked as dark as space, freckled by highlights of stars. Only then was she able to enjoy the sweet, heaven that was their flavor.

Mama always admonished her when Shaya’Jax came home with handfuls of fruit, but that never stopped her. “Just make sure to keep those goodies out of sight.” Mama had warned. Shaya’Jax always heeded her warnings.

The only issue was that their juice stained with the potency of ink and turned the inside of her mouth black. Mama always made Shaya’Jax brush her teeth until the foam transformed from gray to white. 

Each yard to a botanical masterpiece to be enjoyed by their selfish eyes alone, greedily drinking in the exotic colors and shapes.

No. Vanth’s elite wouldn’t last a day out in the wilds. Not with the roving packs of miniature yeti wolves and not so miniature drill spiders. 

The former’s hunting method was overwhelming their prey until it was cornered, or too exhausted to move, then they struck. Sometimes they don't even kill, they just will tear strips of flesh off of the bone and leave you with gaping wounds to patch up, or die of blood loss from. 

The latter are more than a bit nastier and ten times more deadly. In layman's terms, they’re a pain in the dick. 

Giant eight legged beasts that scuttled over the surface of packed snow always searching for a meal. 

Supposedly their venom had a numbing effect, but others have said it makes you feel like you’re burning up alive. It doesn’t really matter. Once it sinks it fangs into you, you’re done for, then it’ll pack your dead, cooling body under the ice for later.

It’s said that the ones determined enough, sticktuitive enough, crazy enough, or stupid enough ride those things and ferment the venom into a booze that heats the cheeks and loins alike.

Imagine that: a pack of insane snow-dwellers hitching rides on the backs of tamed (or broken) drill spiders. Shaya’Jax almost admires them. 

It wasn’t impossible to survive in the perpetual winter that is S’vel’s climate, clearly, but it’s certainly not an easy one.

[mr-chenhao]

Dongguan HUIYUECN Automation Equipment Technology Co., Ltd. is a professional automation workshop production line solution provider for high frequency transformer peripheral equipment.

[hirocimacruiser]

Pleasant feeling of blowing the wind.

Twin-cam 12-valve turbo engine with intercooler that generates net 105PS. Hard-tuned suspension and four-wheel disc brakes support that high power. Furthermore, a new bucket seat with excellent holdability. Enveloped in an aerodynamic form, the GT-XX is filled with a passion for driving.

1000 TWINCAM TURBO GT-XX

Hard-tuned suspension

The strut-type four-wheel independent suspension is equipped with highly responsive low-pressure gas-filled shock absorbers and front and rear stabilizers. The coil spring has also been specially tuned. Also, in order to increase the lateral rigidity of the front suspension mounting part, two performance rods are installed on the upper and lower parts. It is a strong suspension tuned to respond to the high power of net 105PS.

Performance rod (upper)

equal length drive shaft

Greatly improves straight-line stability during sudden starts and sudden braking.

long drive shaft

Four-wheel disc brake

Four-wheel disc brakes provide sufficient braking power even during hard driving. Moreover, the front wheel is a ventilated type that enhances the heat dissipation effect.

ventilated disc brake

4 wheel disc brake

175/60R14 radial tire

Made by Speedline

Aluminum wheel (5J x 14)

175/60R14 radial tires that support hard high-speed driving. Wheels are standard equipped with Charade exclusive aluminum wheels made by Speedline, which is famous in the world of motor sports.

Needle zone meter (M.op)

A new-feeling meter with needles emerging from the back of the dial is available as an option.

"Net" is measured with the engine installed in the vehicle.