#del x elu

[eluviannaa]

Some rp bits from this week. CHAOS!

Appraising the sinister display, the mechagnome impatiently jammed a thumb into the remote’s unnecessarily large red button.

“HA! let's DO this!”

Its satisfying click widened her eyes, head whipping eagerly to the robots. The jittering machines erupted into motion. Articulated arms unfolded, each end fitted with a circular blade taunting a sharp glint.

The jagged metal sputtered in sequence—first one, then another, then all at once—until it drowned the appreciative cackles. Heavy footfalls advanced, heralding a truly impressive display: deadly double halos of whirling steel.

The small, wicked laughter now rose as a chorus above the chaos. With a grand flourish, one of their company swiped a wrench from his belt, holding it at the side of his mouth.

“And now—the future of ingenuity versus...” He rocked back on his heels allowing tone to carry the performance.

“...THE CURSE OF FLEEE-EESSSH!”

[iamshannonmcfarland]

3x09 like more  he attac he protect but most importantly HE SNAPP

[starryhedgehog]

i’m letting you go

an elu soulmate au.

- - 

Twelve-year-old Lucas Lallemant wakes up with his arms painted with colors every single night.  He likes to lay awake in bed and watch as colors appear on his skin in thick brushstrokes, likes feeling the warmth in his heart as he realizes that somewhere, someplace, his soulmate is here.  His soulmate cares.

Lucas Lallemant doesn’t write anything on his arms, doesn’t want to disrupt the artwork that covers his skin.

Until one day, he doesn’t see the paint.  One day, the colors stop coming.

Lucas lays awake in bed and stares at his arms, pinching them, running them through cold water, even going to the extent of finding his acrylics and painting splotches of paint on his own arms.

Are you there?  Where are you?

Until one night he notices the ghost paint marks on his arm.  Watches through horrified eyes as the paint begins to form on his skin in translucent strokes, glimmering and glistening in the moonlight that shines through the blinds.

He stands up and looks in the mirror, confused to see his reflection transformed.  The person in the mirror has arms full of color, arms painted red and blue and green.

Lucas looks down at his own arms, puzzled to see the same holographic illusion wavering on his skin.  When he looks up into the mirror again, he sees something there.

There’s another person there, smiling warmly back at Lucas.  He reaches out, and Lucas immediately feels safe.

The person reaches out to touch the glass with his fingertips, and trembling, Lucas does the same.  He feels the same warmth shoot through his spine, his finger tingling with slight electricity.  Lucas shivers, because he knows what it is.  It’s his soulmate.

“What happened?” Lucas says, throat clenching.  “What’s going on?”

The person in the mirror’s eyes soften, and he tilts his head.  

I died.

Lucas nearly collapses, hands flying to his arms.  He can’t even speak.

Not your fault.

“So I’m never going to meet you?”

The person in the mirror steps closer, shrugging.  I’m here now.  It’s me.  I’m just a ghost.

Lucas wants to cry.  “But I can’t touch you.  I don’t even know your name.”

I know yours.  I’m Eliott.  Eliott Demaury, he says, almost proudly.  And I’ve known you were my soulmate for years.

Lucas feels himself start to cry.  He wraps his arms around himself and shakes, fingers gripping his skin tightly.

Of course Eliott’s gone, too.

He peeks a glance through his eyes, half-embarrassed, and his crying falters slightly.  

There in the mirror, arms wrapped around Lucas, is Eliott.  Eliott’s forgotten his paints and paintbrushes and his expression is terrified, his hands clutching Lucas’ face and trying to rub away the tears from Lucas’ face.

Lucas is surprised to feel the tears on his face disappear.

Please don’t cry!

“What happened?” Lucas whispers.

There was an accident.  A car accident.  Eliott shrugs, staring at Lucas with a concerned expression.  I don’t really remember what happened.

Lucas stands up, presses his hand into the mirror.  He’s met with cold glass, no Eliott at all, and he feels his lower lip tremble.  “How’d you know where I was?”

One day you wrote your telephone number in real small numbers, right on the corner of your hand.  It was in black ink.  Thin sharpie, maybe?

Lucas feels something warm on his palm, and he looks into the mirror to watch Eliott poking him gently.

Basically, I looked it up on the internet and it couldn’t have been your mom or your dad, so it had to be you.

Lucas sniffs, the smallest smile turning up at his lips.  “You’re a stalker.”

Eliott laughs.  

Lucas can see his joy through the mirror, and Lucas wants so badly to run to him and share that joy.  To hold him, somehow.  But he can’t.

I’m smart, Eliott grins, correcting him.  If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have known who you were.

“Okay,” Lucas gives in, “you’re a stalker who used their knowledge for good.”

Eliott laughs again.  Okay.

--

At fourteen years old, Lucas Lallemant likes knowing that there’s someone there, someone at home who makes things a little easier.  He’ll peer into the mirror after school and tap on the glass, watching as the mirror defogs and Eliott appears.

Eliott’s always got something to tell Lucas, like how Lucas’ mother came in and ate two of the sweets in his drawer, so now he’s got to find a new hiding space, or that Lucas’ father came and took two dollar bills, so don’t forget to ask him about it.

Today, though, Eliott’s just smiling.

“What?”  Lucas looks at Eliott, trying to stop his own lips from tugging into a grin.  “What is it?”

Nothing!

“Liar.”  Lucas raises his eyebrows twice, then walks away from the mirror to dump his backpack onto his desk.  He quickly returns to the mirror, curious.  “Are you going to tell me why you’re so happy?”

Eliott pretends to think, and shakes his head gleefully.  But then he just shrugs, reaching to poke Lucas’ reflection in the shoulder.

Lucas feels the same foreign warmth and bites his lip.  Too bad Eliott’s stuck in there.

I’m happy that you’re back.  It’s so boring without you.

Lucas laughs.  He lets himself gaze at Eliott for a while, a dazed sort of smile tugging at his lips.

Eliott blushes.  And then he looks back up, teasing.  You know, if your parents come in, they’re going to think they’ve raised a very self-obsessed child.

Lucas snorts.  “They don’t care.”

Eliott’s smile falters.  What?

“They don’t care.  They’re too busy.  Besides, they’ve got their own problems.”

Eliott shakes his head vehemently.  They care.  You’re just stubborn.  

Lucas raises an eyebrow, then yawns.  “Whatever.  I’m going to eat something.”

I’d recommend eating an omelette with fennel and cinnamon.

Lucas smirks, turning back to face Eliott.  “What, are you trying to get me killed?  That’s terrible, no way.”

Eliott bursts into laughter, pushing at Lucas’ reflection.  Or blueberries and bacon!

Lucas pretends to vomit.  “Why, Eliott?”

Eliott tries and fails to suppress another laugh.  “Why not?”

Lucas just rolls his eyes and walks forward so that he’s close to the mirror.  He presses his fingers to his lips and touches the spot where Eliott’s forehead is.  “See you.”

Eliott’s smile softens, he holds up his hand, and Lucas watches, throat tightening, as Eliott’s intertangles both his and his reflections fingers.  He presses his lips against Lucas’ knuckles, then laughs.  

Go get your food, I’ll still be here.  

- - 

Fifteen-year-old Lucas Lallemant comes home from school and glares at the floor, refusing to look anywhere but the mirror.

He’s angry, really angry.  He’s had to yell at three people today about how his soulmate is dead.  Dead of all things, and he’s so not interested in learning about ways to contact them.  

Of course I know he’s dead, Lucas thinks bitterly.  He lives in my fucking mirror.

It’s not Eliott’s fault he’s, well, a ghost, but Lucas still won’t look at him.

You’re angry, Eliott’s voice drifts from the mirror.

Lucas scowls, crossing his arms.  He dumps his backpack on the floor and grabs his binders, slumping face-first onto his bed.

Somehow there’s a chill that sweeps through the room and something warm messes with Lucas’ hair.

Lucas looks up, shocked.  

Hi, Eliott says, smiling.

“Oh, so now you decide to mention that you can move from the mirror?”

Eliott shrugs.  Never came up.

“Eliott.”

Lucas?

Lucas reaches forward, some sort of hope trickling through his mind, but his hand passes straight through Eliott.  Lucas growls in frustration, then slams his head on the pillow.  “How come you can touch me, but I can’t?”

Eliott runs his hand across Lucas’ shoulders, tracing small circular patterns into his back.  I don’t know.  Why’d I have to die so early?

Lucas sits upright.  “Don’t say that.”

Why not?

“I didn’t mean it.  Not like that.”

It’s just a question.  Maybe it’s some sort of gift.  You know, like a consolation prize or something.  You’ve died, sorry, but you can still touch your soulmate.

Lucas groans, but soon shuts up as soon as he feels Eliott’s chin resting against his shoulders.

I’m sorry you’re upset.

Lucas shrugs.  “Don’t be.”

I forget it’s hard for you, too.

“Don’t worry about me.”

I always do.

Lucas scowls again.  “You’re such a sap.”

Eliott laughs, his form ghostly blue.  He’s so tall, and when he stretches out he’s taller than Lucas already by at least a head.  

You know what?

Lucas can’t stop the smile from tugging at his lips.  “What?”

You’re still cute when you’re mad.

Lucas rolls his eyes, falling straight through Eliott.  But Eliott just laughs, reaching for Lucas’ hand.

I love you.

“You don’t have a choice.”

Eliott bursts out into laughter.  

- -

Seventeen-year-old Lucas Lallemant comes home from school, again, and heads straight to his mirror.  “Hey.”

Eliott yawns, blinking.  He crawls out from the mirror, standing to look down at Lucas with amusement.  You’re back.

Lucas steps forward, head tilted up.  “You’ve got it pretty good, you know.  If you had to meet Monsieur Caron, you’d actually like, explode with annoyance.”

Eliott laughs, and he reaches to draw Lucas into a hug.  Lucas feels warmth around his shoulders and waist, but when he reaches to lean against Eliott’s shoulder, he staggers forward, almost falling.

“I keep forgetting about that,” Lucas murmurs regretfully.  

Eliott shrugs, reaching forward to ruffle Lucas’ hair.  What’s it like to go to your school?

Lucas thinks about it, thoughtfully.  “It’s strange, I guess.  You could go if you wanted to.”

Eliott just shakes his head.  I’d get lost.

“No you wouldn’t.  Just come with me, silly.”

Then I’d get sad.

“Aren’t you already sad, here?”

Eliott sags slightly, then quirks up the corner of his lip in a half-smile.  Well, you’re right.  I’m just … nervous.

Lucas reaches to cup Eliott’s face, even though his hand passes right through Eliott, but it’s the thought that counts, isn’t it?  “If it makes you feel better, I get nervous, too.”

But you go every day.

Lucas sighs.  “It’s hell, Eliott.  I get nervous just thinking about it, sometimes.”

Eliott walks around Lucas to peer through the windows.

“What’s the first thing you’d do if you were alive?”

Eliott’s answer is immediate.  I’d want to feel your hugs.  And I’d want to make friends.  And eat food.

Lucas feels his smile fade.  “I wish you could do all those things.”

Eliott looks wistful for a moment, then shrugs, smiling.  At least I have you, right?

Lucas smiles.  

Right. Eliott answers, and he reaches to nuzzle Lucas against the nose.  And when Eliott leans forward to pull Lucas closer, Lucas doesn’t resist.  He feels a warmth against his lips as Eliott kisses him, gently at first, and then deeper until Lucas is being pressed against the wall.

He can’t kiss back, can only feel the warmth against his lips.  It comes to a point where he can’t take it, and pulls on the bottom of Eliott’s lip, but instead of there being warmth, Eliott shimmers and Lucas is met with cold, cold air.

“Sorry,” Lucas whispers.

Don’t be.

Lucas lets himself reach for Eliott’s fingers, not caring at the way his fingers fall straight through Eliott’s.  “I like like you,” he whispers, smile toying at his lips.  “A lot.”

Eliott smiles. Well, I love you.

“Me, too.”

Say it, Eliott whispers.  Please?

But Lucas shakes his head.  “Not yet.”

- - 

At eighteen years old, Lucas Lallemant looks at the wall and points to a spot near the corner.  “Did you know that’s where I hit my wooden block set when I threw a tantrum in preschool?”

Eliott blinks, staring at Lucas with amusement.  You what?

“I kept hitting the blocks against the wall, so it broke a little bit of plaster right there, see?”

Eliott glides to where Lucas is pointing, and he peers at it, thoughtfully.  So you still haven’t grown out of the hitting walls phase, have you?

Lucas looks down at his bandaged hand, shrugging.  “Guess not.”  He doesn’t think much of it, ready to change the conversation until he feels warmth against his knuckles.

Reflexively, Lucas jerks his hand away, hissing.

Just a scratch, Eliott says flatly, eyes narrow.  Okay.

Lucas sighs.  “Really.  It’s not a big deal.”

Show me, then.

Lucas raises an eyebrow.  “What’re you, my mom?”

Eliott glares at him.

“Okay, okay.”  Lucas reaches for the bandaging around his hand, biting his lip as he unravels it.  The gauze is bloody at some parts, and Lucas’ knuckles are split and bruised.

Eliott’s eyes widen.  Lucas?

Lucas doesn’t say anything.

You didn’t say it was this bad.

“What was I supposed to do, hm?”  Lucas steps forward, eyes vulnerable.  “I can’t just stand there while they, they --”

They what?  Eliott’s voice is gentle, Lucas feels warmth race across the palm of his hand.

“They were saying stuff.  Stuff about you.”  Lucas’ voice drops, he can’t meet Eliott’s gaze.  “They were talking about us.  I don’t know how they knew, I never --”

Lu.  You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.  You don’t have to fight battles for me.

“Why not?”

Because I don’t want you to.

“It doesn’t matter,” Lucas turns reflexively, clutching his hand to his chest.  “It’s over, now.”

So were you lying when you said you hit a wall?

Lucas barely turns, lips tugging into a half-smile.  “No.  I hit the wall after.  I was mad.”

Eliott laughs softly, and he inches closer to lean his head against Lucas’ shoulder.  Lucas feels Eliott’s familiar warmth, thinks he might actually melt.

No more hitting walls, please.

Lucas shrugs, smiling up at Eliott.  “You’re so …”

So what?

Lucas smiles to himself.

Eliott tickles him in the side and Lucas bursts into laughter.  “Alright, alright.”

Lucas turns so that he’s facing Eliott, but his eyes are glued to his knuckles.

Eliott notices this and tilts his head.  Why’d you hurt yourself for me?

Lucas shrugs, biting his lip.  When he finally looks back up, he looks more vulnerable than ever.  “I don’t want to tell you.  You’re going to leave if I do.”

Eliott tilts his head.  What?

Lucas shakes his head, throat tightening.  “I read that dead soulmates can’t leave until their soulmate tells them they love them.”  Lucas can only whisper, now.  “I don’t want to tell you because then I’ll lose you, too.”  He can’t stop the words from spilling out of his mouth.  “They said you were still here because you couldn’t be loved and that’s not true, and I, and I --”

Eliott sighs, burrowing his face into Lucas’ hair.  When he speaks, Lucas can feel his voice.  You could never lose me.  I’m always with you.

- - 

Lucas is nineteen when he lets Eliott go.

Eliott’s lying with his head in Lucas’ lap, and he points up to press his finger against a spot on Lucas’ cheek.  I love you.

Lucas feels warmth everywhere.  He looks at Eliott, and Eliott’s eyes are so beautiful.  They’re blue mixed with gray and somewhat see-through but Lucas loses himself in Eliott, loses himself in the warmth.

And he wishes Eliott could feel that, too.

“Are you sad, here?”

Eliott blinks.  Me?

Lucas nods.  “I don’t want you to be sad.”

I’m with you.

“I know.  But still.”

A little.

Lucas raises an eyebrow.

A lot.

“Why?” It comes out as a whisper, and Lucas absent-mindedly tries to run his fingers across Eliott’s face.  But his fingers pass through air, and he feels his chest tighten.

I’m so lonely, Lucas.  And cold.

Lucas feels the warmth from earlier, and realizes Eliott doesn’t feel any of that.  His throat starts to sting.  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

I like seeing you happy.  I like being around you.

Lucas sniffs.  “Me too.  But it’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

Eliott’s eyes widen.  What are you doing?

Lucas smiles, feeling his face start to crack.  “Seven whole years.  The seven, best years of my life.”

Lucas, no.  You don’t have to --

“I do.”  Lucas reaches to run his hands through Eliott’s hair, blinking as his fingers pass through nothing.  “I need to let you go.  You’re hurting.”

It doesn’t matter.  I don’t want to leave you.

“But you do, don’t you?”

Eliott’s eyes soften, he shakes his head.  But then he deflates.  Yes.  But I don’t want to leave you.  I don’t want you to be alone.

“It’s okay,” Lucas whispers.  “It’s okay.”

It’s not okay.  You weren’t ever supposed to get hurt.  By anyone.

Lucas feels himself start to cry.  “Neither were you.”

Eliott’s quiet for a moment, his fingers raising to brush against Lucas’ cheek.

“You haven’t thought about yourself, Eliott.  You’ve always been thinking about me.  It’s my turn to do that now.”

Lucas.

“I love you, Eliott.  I’ve loved you ever since I first saw those paint marks on my arms.  I used to stay up every, single night watching, waiting for it to appear.  I loved you ever since you popped up in my mirror that night.  I’ve loved you ever since you first kissed me, and since you decided to drift out the mirror, and I’ve never stopped loving you.  I won’t stop.”

Eliott’s lip wobbles, and he blinks, a tear tracing its way down his cheek.  “You didn’t have to tell me.  I knew you did, Lu.  I knew.”

“I know,” Lucas whispers, and for the first time, he feels his fingers brush against Eliott’s skin.  

Eliott smiles, eyes watery.  And then he disappears, his form vanishing.

Lucas stares at the spot where Eliott used to be, and lets his hands fall into his lap.  There’s nothing there.  Just air.

He starts to hyperventilate, breathing quickly, eyes filling with tears.  Eliott’s gone.  Eliott’s gone.  He’s alone.

Something falls from Lucas’ room, and he stands up, numbly walking toward it.  There’s something on the floor, and Lucas frowns.

He steps closer, his breath catching in his throat.  There’s a set of acrylic paints, and Lucas takes them, cradling them to his chest, crying.

Later, he finds paintbrushes in his closet and opens the paints, painting stripes of red and green and blue across his skin.  It’s like how it used to be, when he was twelve.  

When he finally goes to bed that night, staring at the paint, he thinks somewhere, somehow, Eliott knows.  

He must.

And just before he falls asleep, he feels warmth racing up his arms.

[cant-getno-sleep]

Took my time leaving work.... i WASN'T EXPECTING A CLIP LADS..not like that...my heart. 😭😭

What a lovely end to a pretty crap day/week. 

There was happy tears. 

[pvnkiwi]

get to know me

Rules: Tag 9 people you’d like to get to know better.

@probablydaydreamingg thank you for tagging me! <3

Top 10 songs/pieces I can’t stop listening to: 

LIBERATO’S WHOLE DISCOGRAPHY. I've been listening to his music since TU T’E SCURDAT ‘E ME’s release two years ago and honestly speaking, I never get tired of it. 

Other songs I’m currently obsessed with are:

7 rings - Ariana Grande

Calipso - Charlie Charles, Dardust feat. Mahmood, Sfera Ebbasta, Fabri Fibra

LE RAGAZZE DI PORTA VENEZIA - MYSS KETA, Elodie, Joan Thiele, Priestess

Non Sei Come Me - Achille Lauro x Boss Doms

Rose Viola - Ghemon

Torna Da Me - Luchè

sorry they’re not ten but I basically listen to Liberato most of the time lol

Favourite colours: literally.all.pastel.colours (and black and white)

Favourite Ships: uggghhhh they’re way too many so I’m just gonna list them below

Chiara+Damiano (Baby)

Sabrina+Nicholas (CAOS)

Jonas+Hanna, Alexander+Mia, Davenzi (Druck)

Finchel, Klaine, Brittana, Mike+Tina, Emma+Will (Glee)

Francisco+Alba/Lidia, Carlota+Sara/Oscar (Las Chicas del Cable)

Evak, Mohnstad, Yousana (SKAM)

Elu (SKAM Fr)

Gioeva, Rames/MartiNico/Nicotino, Incantava, Luchilvia (SKAM It)

Cassie x Sid, Chris x Jal (Skins, first generation)

Cook x Effy, Freddie x Effy, Naomi x Emily (Skins, second generation) 

I guess that’s it?

Lipstick or Chapstick: Both!! But I wear lipstick way more often.

Last Movie: tbh I don’t remember it lol it’s been a long time since I’ve watched a movie...

Currently Reading: Colorless Tsukuro Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage by Haruki Murakami :)

Tagging : idk who to tag lol if you want to do it, consider yourself tagged :) 

[construguateics]

Formas de analizar una estructura de hormigón

En este post vamos a dar un repaso a los métodos de análisis de estructuras de hormigón aceptados por EHE-08, intentando exponerlos de forma amena y entendible.

Las estructuras de hormigón son por su naturaleza complicadas de analizar ya que:

No se trata de un material único, sino varios materiales que se comportan de forma mixta.

Las secciones se fisuran ante determinados niveles de carga, por lo que su sección resistente varía.

Posee un comportamiento reológico, es decir, cambia según el tiempo (retracción, fluencia…).

En definitiva, para analizar una estructura de hormigón, nos vemos obligados normalmente a realizar simplificaciones.

La pregunta es ��Qué simplificaciones podemos adoptar con suficientes garantías?

Pues bien, la EHE-08 contempla los siguientes tipos de análisis estructural:

1.- Análisis elástico lineal:

Este análisis es el más sencillo y nos puede servir en la mayoría de los casos.

Su sencillez estriba en que realizamos unas simplificaciones que nos facilitan notablemente la vida:

Consideramos la estructura en su posición indeformada

Consideramos que el hormigón tiene un comportamiento elástico y lineal.

Esto significa que podemos emplearlo siempre y cuando las deformaciones de la estructura sean suficientemente pequeñas para despreciar los efectos de segundo orden ya que de lo contrario tendríamos que considerar análisis en segundo orden, con la estructura en su posición deformada, lo que nos llevaría a una nueva deformación y de ahí a un proceso iterativo.

Otro motivo que hace que este análisis sea muy sencillo es que consideramos secciones brutas, sin fisurar y además no necesitamos conocer la armadura de la sección en el análisis.

La pregunta del millón: ¿Si hacemos esta simplificación tan grosera, no podemos quedar del lado de la inseguridad? Afortunadamente no, de hecho esto no es gratuito; hemos de garantizar cierta ductilidad seccional para poder realizar este análisis con garantías. Esta ductilidad no es más que garantizar en ELU una determinada redistribución de esfuerzos antes de alcanzar el agotamiento. Esto se consigue limitando la posición de la fibra neutra como máximo al 45% del canto útil de la sección.

Este análisis sirve tanto para ELU como para ELS, por lo que todo son ventajas.

2.- Análisis lineal con redistribución limitada:

En este análisis damos un pasito más. Con el fin de tener en cuenta las simplificaciones anteriores, que producirían una variación de las leyes de esfuerzos respecto a las obtenidas teóricamente, se realiza el siguiente proceso.

Partiendo del cálculo anterior, se aplica una redistribución (que siempre ha de mantener el equilibrio) de forma que las secciones con más esfuerzos se relajen y sobrecarguen las que menos solicitadas se encuentran.

El porcentaje máximo de redistribución r, depende del tipo de acero (S o SD), de la posición x de la fibra neutra y del canto útil d y viene dado por:

r=56-125·x/d

Tabulando los valores, se obtienen los porcentajes máximos de redistribución para cada caso:

En este caso y en el anterior podemos aplicar el principio de superposición y realizar la simplificación de que las secciones permanecen plantas tras deformarse.

Este análisis es válido para ELU pero no para ELS, con lo que en este último caso, tendríamos que volver al primer caso sin aplicar redistribución.

3.- Análisis plástico:

En este análisis se aprovecha la capacidad plástica del material. Se van formando rótulas plásticas hasta alcanzar el colapso de la estructura.

Es por tanto muy importante dotar a las secciones críticas de la capacidad necesaria para conseguir las rotaciones plásticas consideradas en el análisis.

Este método ya precisa del conocimiento de las armaduras para el análisis y se emplea mucho para analizar el comportamiento sísmico de la estructura.

Este análisis es válido para ELU pero tiene el inconveniente de que no lo es para ELS dadas las grandes rotaciones que precisa.

4.- Análisis no lineal:

Este método es el más recrea la realidad del comportamiento de la estructura y por supuesto el más complicado de todos.

Aquí ya se tiene en cuenta que el comportamiento del material no es lineal (fisuración del hormigón, plastificación de las armaduras…) y el análisis de la estructura en su posición deformada (efectos de segundo orden).

Este método también precisa del conocimiento de las armaduras para el análisis y se emplea mucho para analizar el comportamiento de estructuras existentes.

Para ello, ya no se puede aplicar el principio de superposición y es fundamental conocer el historial de cargas de la estructura; cuando se aplicaron y con qué magnitud. Debido a lo anterior, no sirven en este caso los coeficientes de seguridad establecidos en EHE-08.

A pesar de su complejidad tiene de bueno que vale para todo, tanto para ELU como para ELS al tener en cuenta una situación lo más cercana posible a la realidad.

Espero os sirva como sencilla síntesis de los tipos de análisis recogidos en EHE-08.

[eluviannaa]

Some RP bits from this week. I love handling both Elu and Ozzie with this scenario, they play so well together.

Ozzie's attention darted back and forth with the conversation, nudging his eyepatch with a toothy grin.

“Aye, a revolution’s an open invitation for business, lassie. Best stockpile an arsenal—might have more guests showin’ up soon.” He gave a wink with his good eye.

Eluvianna smirked at the exchange. “You two have all the subtlety of a missile yourselves.”

Tilting her head toward the gnome, she continued, voice smooth. “But now that we’ve had the pleasure of a proper introduction, perhaps you’d be so kind as to grant us your blessing for passage.”

“Truly, we have no intention of interfering with your own business. If anything, we likely share a common interest—what you may not yet realize it is you have here.”

The performance drew a stifled laugh from Ozzie, who had seen it play out a thousand times before. It didn’t always fully catch, but more often than not, it dangled a curious lure few could resist acknowledging. That, after all, was half the battle—and half the brilliance of the strategy.

The gnome's eyes narrowed in response, though still unclear if in consideration or hostility.

[eluviannaa]

Things escalating into a bit of a fight is always fun. And definitely something I never expected to enjoy writing as much as I do.

She hadn’t expected words to prevent a brawl. But beyond diplomacy’s grasp the shadows would advance, all too eager to close the distance. An inevitable mind flay, an unsettling mark felt long after any yield knelt upon the battlefield.

Ozzie reluctantly steadied into the earth, letting out a groan of resignation. With a swift motion, he whipped open the sides of his coat, hands settling on the daggers sheathed at his belt—more for show than any real intent to use them. He wasn’t a fighter, but his technical precision had proven invaluable in the past—situations where strategy easily outpaced brute force.

Her smirk broadened as her own stance lowered. Silhouette shifting against a blur, darkness gathered at her feet, spiraling steadily upward. The magic clung to her form as hazy tendrils twisted, whispering around her arms. Her hands flexed, fingers curling as the umbra pooled into her palms. Presence now an elegant pulse of purple flame.

“Then may the shadows be merciful,” Her gaze held steady on the gnome, voice echoing from an unseen plane. “What comes next will not discriminate.”

Some RP bits from this week. I love handling both Elu and Ozzie with this scenario, they play so well together.

Ozzie's attention darted back and forth with the conversation, nudging his eyepatch with a toothy grin.

“Aye, a revolution’s an open invitation for business, lassie. Best stockpile an arsenal—might have more guests showin’ up soon.” He gave a wink with his good eye.

Eluvianna smirked at the exchange. “You two have all the subtlety of a missile yourselves.”

Tilting her head toward the gnome, she continued, voice smooth. “But now that we’ve had the pleasure of a proper introduction, perhaps you’d be so kind as to grant us your blessing for passage.”

“Truly, we have no intention of interfering with your own business. If anything, we likely share a common interest—what you may not yet realize it is you have here.”

The performance drew a stifled laugh from Ozzie, who had seen it play out a thousand times before. It didn’t always fully catch, but more often than not, it dangled a curious lure few could resist acknowledging. That, after all, was half the battle—and half the brilliance of the strategy.

The gnome's eyes narrowed in response, though still unclear if in consideration or hostility.