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solivar · 6 years ago

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WIP: Ghost Stories On Route 66

In which Zen and Hanzo have an unexpected experience.

“So, you remember when I told you the fabric of reality around here is usually a schmancy high thread count thingamabobber?” Jaime asked, as they clustered around him in the tiny oasis of normality beneath the streetlights. “Well. About two, three o’clock this afternoon, the monitors started pingin’ like mad and, uh, yeah, now the local area immediately inside your house is all dia -- diaphra -- diaphragmous? See-through like?”

“Diaphanous,” Hana replied tersely. “The word you’re looking for is diaphanous.”

“That’s the word! Thanks, chippie -- ow, ow, hey, ow, okay okay okay, I’m sorry!” He held up hands and tablet in self-defense. “Thank you, Hana. Anyway, we gathered up all the extra stabilizer stakes we had charged and called Rein and booked it up here as quick as we could. The stakes and the wards Rein rigged up are keepin’ it isolated for now but, uh, we dunno for how long. We’ve definitely got interference bleedin’ into local communications already.”

“Yeah, we noticed.” Jesse budged over to let Reinhardt join their huddle, taking the opportunity to slide his arm around Hanzo’s shoulders as he did so. “So I’m guessing it’s not going t’be safe for anyone to go in there?”

“We have been working on that,” Reinhardt rumbled. “Mako and I have tested a solution -- a ward that stabilizes the local area around its wearers, preferably two or three to create a large area of usable space.”

“And by ‘tested’ he means ‘they went inside wearin’ a pair and made me monitor the situation from outside so I could start screamin’ if they disappeared,’” Jaime clarified, still obviously aggrieved.

“He,” Roadie rumbled, gesturing a complicated gesture at Hanzo, “shouldn’t. Too close to the cause. Wards might not be strong enough.”

“His bedroom wall was where all this got started,” Genji added thoughtfully. “Hanzo, is there anything up there you absolutely couldn’t live without? Is there some way we could, like, seal it shut extra strongly?”

Hanzo leaned into the comfortingly solid warmth of Jesse’s side, and considered -- the computer and art pad he used for digital and holographic designs were expensive pieces of equipment but replaceable. So were the majority of the physical supplies, inks and watercolors and paper, that he kept on hand at home. Santa Fe contained enough thrift stores to replace his entire wardrobe if necessary. “My bow and quiver are downstairs in the sports equipment closet -- so is my gym bag. Just those. If we can ward my bedroom shut, we should.”

“And by we, we mean absolutely not you.” Genji replied sweetly. “Zen, can you do that thing you did back at the Student Union again?”

“That depends entirely upon the availability of duct tape and Sharpies but, yes, I can.” Zen offered him a faintly apologetic smile. “And I should go in first to perform the binding, just to be safe.”

“D’you honestly think we go anywhere without enough duct tape to fasten our truck’s entire frame and undercarriage back together?” Jaime asked, moderately affronted, and it was clearly a rhetorical question because a moment later a caseful was hitting the sidewalk with an emphatic thud.

Hana wordlessly dug at least six different colors and opacities of markers out of her bag and offered them up as a sacrifice. “What? I hit the bookstore when I was done with class. I had a bad feeling, okay?”

“No judgment.” Genji replied with an easy soothing grin as Zen made his selection, armed himself with three full rolls of tape, and marched toward the condo with Roadie in tow. “Wards? Wearable kind?”

“Yes! Come, we’ll get you fitted up.” Reinhardt, it seemed, approached literally everything with boundless good humor and radiant competence; Hanzo rather suspected if someone told him an asteroid capable of sterilizing the biosphere was about to hit the Earth, he’d respond with a cheerful grin and a plan that just might work.

He led them to one of the three trucks taking up approximately four hundred percent of their allotted curbside parking: a flatbed pickup truck obviously cobbled together from the frames of at least two pre-modern-technology vehicles, sun-faded and rust-speckled, mounted to a hover rig by means that probably wouldn’t stand up to close inspection and might not survive actual aerodynamic hover forces, flanked by not one but two trucks that looked for all the world like home repair/landscaping contractor vehicles, which he supposed was a reasonable enough approach for itinerant craftworkers in disguise. Reinhardt opened the side-panel of the truck he had clearly arrived in, internal lights flickering on as it folded out to reveal a collection of bog standard tools and tool boxes firmly mounted to internal magnetic brackets.

“I actually am a mechanical engineer,” Reinhardt grinned at them, flipped a few more switches, and the side panel continued unfolding in a way that emphatically denied the reality of physical space restrictions, containing rank upon rank of drawers and shelves labeled in neatly precise script, holding components and finished pieces alike, some enormous and obviously meant to be hung on mounts even larger yet, some exquisitely tiny and delicate, an entire worktable, its surface etched in complex diagrams, drafting tools and equipment clipped to the edges, storage caskets racked together beneath the drawers.

The wearable wards were on the smaller end, emerging from one of the caskets, Reinhardt handing each of them one as they clustered around him. “They are more durable than they look but I would not suggest hitting one with a hammer if you could avoid it. They produce a more individual focused variation of Jaime’s reality stabilization matrix and draw some of their strength from their wearers and more from proximity to others of their same kind. Stay close to one another when you go inside.”

Hanzo tapped one of the wards -- a small disk, its surface inscribed with a complex sequence of curves and lines and angles, exterior edge an unbroken line of letters? Runes? Something vaguely literary in a language he absolutely did not recognize. “Is this...fast curing craft clay?”

“It is, my friend! Good eye.” Reinhardt clapped him hard enough on the shoulder to shift the entire group sideways six inches. “Some particularly bloody-minded purists argue against using such materials but, between us, in situations where time is of the essence, the results are just as good as spending six days scribing on disks of bone or metal, especially if the wards need only last so long.”

“I can believe that,” Hanzo agreed, having witnessed first hand what Zen could accomplish on the fly, and clipped the band around his wrist. The throbbing spiky pain in his chest dulled, almost immediately, to a fretful ache, and he drew his first unobstructed breath in a solid ten minutes. “It -- my chest hurts less.”

Reinhardt and Roadie exchanged a glance and Roadie took him gently be the elbow, guided him out of the group and to the cab of Reinhardt’s truck. “Sit. Truck’s warded, too. Don’t look when we open the door.”

Hanzo took a shivery breath. “Okay.” He pulled out his tablet, reflexively checked email and messages, looked anywhere but at the house as his family quietly discussed among themselves who was going first and how long they’d be allowed to stay inside. They had, perhaps unsurprisingly, attracted more than a little attention and he murmured, sotto voce, “Neighbors are filming.”

“Of course they are, because our neighbors are relentless busybodies with nothing better to do with their lives!” Genji raised his voice enough for most audio pickups to catch it, and then dropped back down to normal. “You want me to get your hamper out of the laundry room? I’m pretty sure you’ve got some unwashed clothes in there yet.”

“Please.” He offered his best attempt at a reassuring smile. “Be careful. That sounds so...stupid? Inadequate? Both?”

“Heartfelt. The word you’re looking for is heartfelt.” Genji grinned and closed the cab door, mouthed stay here, and made his way up the sidewalk to the front steps, where the door was beginning to open.

Hanzo forced himself to look away, thumbed open his library and picked a book at random, spent the next interminable period of nerve-wracking eternity reading the same page approximately a hundred and forty thousand times. He didn’t have to look because, despite the wards, a thread of ice dripped down his spine every time someone opened the condo door and he sat, tense with dread, until he heard their voices again, the sounds of suitcases and storage trunks and gear carriers thumping into place in the back of the pickup, Hana arguing for or against something with clearly audible vigor, Lucio’s husky laughter, Genji’s very best lazily unconcerned drawl that in absolutely no way successfully concealed the depths of his unease, Zenyatta calm and even and serene as only he could be, no matter the circumstances.

“Hanzo!” Hana yanked the door cab door open and only twenty years of finely honed reflexes that he hadn’t entirely allowed to go to pot in the last few saved him from hitting the ground with a total absence of grace. “Jeez, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were leaning on it.”

“That’s okay,” Hanzo accepted the hand Jesse, materializing at his side, offered to boost himself back to his feet. “It’s dark. What’s the problem?”

“Tell them I don’t have to put Tokki in the back of that...that...thing.” Hana gesticulated one-handed and just short of frantically at the truck.

“Tokki? Who’s --” It took a moment for the reality of what he was seeing to filter all the way into his mind but, gradually, he realized that Hana’s entire other hand, in fact her whole arm, was wrapped around an enormous pink something, something a solid four inches taller than she was, something that probably out-weighed her, too, something that looked like the unholy offspring of a torrid affair between a fuzzy pink fairground toy and a Gundam dakimakura. “What. What is that. How do you wash it. How.”

“You really need to do that little rising-falling thing with your voice when you’re trying to ask a real question, Hanzo.” Hana replied tartly. “This is Tokki, he’s very old, I brought him from home, and he is absolutely not riding in the truck.”

“There won’t be enough seats for everybody in the van if he doesn’t ride in the truck.” Genji pointed out in tones of sweet reason as he hefted the last of his own luggage into place. “Back me up here, aniki.”

“I’ll ride back in the truck with Jaime and Mako if you like, Hana.” Hanzo replied gravely. “You’re right, something so venerable and well-loved should not be subject to such an indignity.”

“I don’t know if I should punch you for making fun of me or hug you for agreeing with me.” Hana admitted and then settled for doing both. “Best big brother.”

“Yes. Yes, I am.” Hanzo agreed and waved her off. “Go on before I regret my munificence.”

“That was not the backup I expected.” Genji threw his hands in the air and walked away, muttering under his breath, to help Hana get her giant pink monstrosity aboard.

“I’d’ve offered to put him in the van’s storage but, uh, I don’t think he’d fit.” Jesse admitted and smiled down at him. “That was good of you -- she was actually pretty upset about it.”

“Given the expense and effort it must have taken to transport it from Korea, it must be very dear to her.” Hanzo replied quietly. “I trust everything went well?”

“Better than I thought they would, honestly.” For the first time, Hanzo realized he was wearing his weapons, gun-belt slung around his hips clipped with extra ammunition and less immediately identifiable objects of a potentially violent nature. “Wards worked like a charm and Doc Tekhartha’s got your bedroom door bound up like a frat house prank with extra magic just for giggles. And I have your things stashed in the van.”

“Thank you. It would be a genuine pain in the ass to have to replace my bow.” Hanzo smiled crookedly. “I may have some experience when it comes to the expense and effort of keeping beloved things close.”

“Archery, hmm? I admit, I’d wondered.” Jesse grinned, dark eyes glinting. “Strong hands and shoulders, lots of well-kept muscle, and you don’t strike me like the type to spend a lot of hours a week liftin’ weights.”

“And you’d be right because that’s the most boring form of exercise known to man.” Hanzo found a grin lurking at the corners of his own mouth and let it stay. “Great-Uncle Toshiro taught an entirely different regimen and Genji graciously assists me in maintaining it, though I do most of my target shooting at this little sporting goods place just at the city limits. The only place I’ve found with indoor and outdoor ranges for archery as well as firearms.”

“Navarro’s? Oh, yeah. Know ‘em well. They’re my supplier for some of the more normal stuff I keep on hand for survival caches -- not a craftworker among them, but they’re good people.” Oh so casually Jesse reached for his hand. “Maybe we could make a night of, uh, going there sometime.”

“If you two idiots could stop flirting for five whole seconds and help we might be able to get out of here sometime tonight.” Genji suggested, entirely loud enough for everyone up and down the street on both sides as far as the eye could see to overhear.

Hanzo, just barely, managed not to melt into a puddle of liquid humiliation as at least a few of the neighbors sent up a cheer in response to this intelligence. “We should probably help.”

“I’ll help you find a place to bury him where no one will ever find him later, if you want?” Jesse suggested but nonetheless immediately moved to help sort out the increasingly elaborate Jenga puzzle of everyone’s belongings, at least some of which were delicately electronic and quite probably highly experimental.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Hanzo murmured in reply and took up station on the periphery of the increasingly contentious gathering, inserting suggestions as seemed appropriate, and as he stood became aware of a slow icy drip sliding down his spine and a sharp, cold pulse beneath his breastbone.

When had he taken the ward off? He couldn’t remember -- his wrist still felt its comforting embrace but when he looked down it simply wasn’t there, gone as if it had never been.

And when had he started walking towards the house? He had no conscious recollection of that, either, of when he’d begun obeying the relentless cold tension in his chest, like a line drawn taut, pulling at him like a fish well on the hook.

Behind him, he heard Jaime say, rather distinctly, “Uh, gang? You might wanna look at this.” And, beneath his voice, a frantic low-toned beeping.

He wanted to speak -- he wanted to say something, anything, but his tongue was pinned flat to the inside of his mouth and his teeth were welded together and his legs would not stop moving as he took the steps in two strides. Before him, the condo’s security access pad flicked from red to green, the locks slotted back into their mounts, and the door slowly, slowly cracked open, a thin slit of unrelieved darkness.

No. It took all his strength to articulate that thought, as his hand reached for the door handle, to open it further, to step inside.

Behind him, the steady monotone beepbeepbeepbeep of Jaime’s machinery sped up and grew louder BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP and through it heard a voice, more than one voice, raised in alarm, calling his name. But the metal of the door handle was cold -- burning cold, cold beyond anything nature could claim -- against the palm of his hand, throbbing against his breastbone, forcing the breath out of his lungs in heavy streams of frost.

And, again, he said, “no” only aloud this time, soft, thin, and it took what was left of his strength to yank the door shut, slamming it hard into its frame and his free palm against the lock plate. He felt the tension holding him, the relentless pull, snap like an over-stressed line and he staggered backwards, scrambled on the edge of the steps, caught himself on the railing as several pairs of arms tried to catch him from behind, and mostly succeeded.

“Hanzo --” Genji, that was Genji, arm wrapped tight across his chest, his chest which was no longer filled with an icy throbbing ache.

“Darlin’ --” And that was Jesse, catching hold of his arm, gently cradling the hook-fingered claw of his hand. “Easy, l’il brother, he’s hurt.”

“Get him away from the door.” And that was Zenyatta, and received immediate obedience from all three of them as through their combined efforts they got him turned away and back down to the sidewalk.

He was only mildly surprised to find he needed it -- his legs felt like rubber bands twisted and stretched nearly to breaking and his insides like freshly melted ice water and his head spun with exhaustion, as enervated as if he’d just run a marathon. Between them, Genji and Jesse settled him in the shotgun seat of Reinhardt’s truck, cab lights turned on as Zen examined his hand. “Where is your ward?”

“I’m...not certain?” Hanzo admitted, light-headedly. “I don’t remember taking it off. I --”

“Here,” Hana elbowed her way past his brother and his ranger, holding the band out for Zen’s perusal.

The ward was cracked cleanly across, only the wad of epoxy underneath it holding its pieces together, the magnetic clasp corroded to crumbling bits, the band itself dry and cracked. As Zen took it, it finished falling entirely to pieces, striking the sidewalk in rapidly decomposing bits.

“Too close,” Zen muttered. “We should have sent you back to the hacienda.” He snapped open the first aid case Rein set at his feet, pulled on a pair of nitrile gloves, and began applying something wonderfully soothing to the reddened, blistered skin striping his palm.

“Maybe, Doc, but maybe not.” Jaime interjected. “‘Cause whatever he just did? It caused the anomaly to go pop. Shut down just as it was cyclin’ to its widest aperture.”

“Did you do something?” Genji asked, flicking a glance holding distinctly murderous intent over his shoulder at the house. “Did it do something to you?”

“I felt...called. Pulled.” Hanzo reached up with his free hand and scrubbed his aching, weary eyes. “Not a voice just...an impulse I couldn’t resist, like when I --” He stopped, breathed peace, continued. “Exactly like when I tore Zen’s wards off in the Student Union. I couldn’t stop myself, until I came to the door -- it wanted me to open it, to go inside but I...made myself not do that.”

“I’ll send you the data the sensors picked up.” Jaime flicked open a few screens, started a download. “‘Cause I’d like all your thoughts. But it looks to me like the anomaly was drawin’ power from him and when he cut it off, it couldn’t sustain itself any longer.”

“Too close,” Zen reiterated, as he finished taping bandages in place. “Reinhardt, if you would be so good as to take him back to the hacienda, right now, we will be directly behind you.”

“Of course, Doctor. Seatbelt, my young friend, and sit back. We will be home before you know it.”

***

Hanzo drowsed most of the way back to Cerrillos and woke much the better for it, enough so that he insisted on helping where he could, schlepping lighter items that wouldn’t tear the bandages off his hand before Terrifying Smoke Gabe insisted they stop for dinner. “It’s not going anywhere, the truck can sit overnight in the service garage, you’ve all done enough for one day. Come inside.”

Significantly more than just dinner that greeted them: it was the hacienda’s actual dining room, opened up for the first time since their arrival, a table to sit twenty laid out with exquisitely painted plates and gleaming silver and glasses of something pale yellow and fizzy, two enormous pans of enchiladas montadas, platters of tamales and flautas and chile rellenos, a crock of tortilla soup gently steaming next to a stack of earthenware bowls, a chafing dish of fruit salad sitting on ice, bowls of guacamole and salsa and extra cheese. At the far end, Hot Vampire Jack and Badass Granny Ana leaned against one another, half-dozing, bestirring themselves only when the noise of everyone trooping inside became too much to ignore.

Hot Vampire Jack cracked open one eye and muttered, “Frankly, I blame the lot of you for reactivating all his maternal instincts. On the other hand, I almost have to thank you because his empty nesting was about to result in a murder.”

“I made the prickly pear lemonade spritzer,” Ana added, not even bothering to open her eye. “You’re welcome.”

“We really have been adopted by supernatural entities living in a ghost town in the desert,” Hana observed, struck by what appeared to be fairly legitimate awe.

“Yes,” Hanzo agreed, pulling out a chair for her.

“Are you okay, Mrs. Amari? You look beat.” Lucio touched her shoulder gently. “Can I get you a plate?”

“That unholy fiend worked us like dogs,” Mrs. Amari replied, quavery and exhausted, reaching up to pat Lucio’s hand. “Such a good boy you are. I only wish I had a grandson like you before I go to meet my ancestors.”

“Are you trying to guilt trip my kid with that?” Terrifying Smoke Gabe misted in through the kitchen door carrying an armful of crocks and a condiment caddy. “Also: don’t listen to her, she was in charge of juicing lemons.”

“Juicing lemons is a very strenuous task for a woman of my advanced years,” Mrs. Amari replied loftily and accepted the bowl that Lucio handed to her. “Thank you, young man.”

Multiple sets of searing crimson eyes opened for the sole and express purpose of rolling at her. “Make yourselves comfortable, there’s plenty for everybody and -- what happened to your hand?”

An inky misty tentacle wrapped around Hanzo’s wrist, quite a bit warmer than he’d imagined it would be the first time he saw them, and reeled him over for examination, the bandages a bit roughened from hauling things but bearing no signs of seepage or blood. “Uhm. I’m not entirely sure myself,” Hanzo replied in what he hoped was a soothing tone of mildly alarmed squeak.

“An energy discharge of some sort at the condo -- his palm was burnt.” Zen mercifully interceded on his behalf.

“And by ‘energy discharge’ he means our boy here might have closed the spatial anomaly at the house just by tellin’ it to go away and layin’ hands on it.” Jamie added helpfully. “I’ll dump the readings I took after supper.”

“It wasn’t that exciting,” Hanzo demurred and earned himself a multi-eyed roll of his very own as Terrifying Smoke Gabe waved him off to his seat, where a plate filled by both Jesse and Genji awaited him.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Jack replied, dryly. “What happened?”

Hanzo heroically stuffed a flauta in his mouth to avoid having to go first but, as it happened, Jaime was more than happy to tell the tale and his body, now reminded by his taste buds that food was good and that he hadn’t actually had any since breakfast, insisted that he address that deficiency immediately and in mass quantities. He was midway through his third fully stuffed plate when he began hearing the words “....and then we all saw Hanzo walkin’ up to the house and the door startin’ to open…” and realized that he was going to have to stop inhaling calories long enough to speak and that quite literally everyone at the table was watching said inhalation with varying levels of knowledgeable amusement and borderline alarm.

“Uhm.” Hanzo said, setting his silverware down and dabbing the corners of his mouth with what had to be someone’s grandmother’s linen napkin, “I...wasn’t entirely operating under my own recognizance at that point -- moving without wanting to move, reaching for the door without wanting to reach for it. Something wanted me to touch it, to open it and I --” He took a breath, closed his eyes, as the memory washed over him, Jesse’s arms sliding comfortingly across his shoulders. “I refused. I said that I would not and closed it and --” He held up his injured hand, “This happened but the compulsion ceased at once.”

“And the anomaly collapsed pretty much immediately, too.” Jaime finished.

“And now he’s eating like he’s got two empty legs,” Jack observed meditatively.

“Interesting development,” Ana agreed, sipping her drink with a twinkle in her eyes.

“What these two tricksters are pucking around about is the use of some gifts can really take it out of the craftworker, physiologically speaking, and after particularly grueling spellwork you can feel like eating a horse. And, depending on your capabilities and needs, you might try.” Gabe shook his head at them. “You spent some power tonight, kid, and your body is demanding that you put it back in.”

“Spoilsport.” Ana literally, actually stuck her tongue out at him. “That’s why we usually have a hearty brunch before we try anything too enthusiastic these days. Reinhardt and I are not getting any younger -- our ability to draw on our physical resources for extra strength is not what it once was. Jack and Gabriel have their own hungers to feed when they are forced to exceed even their much greater limits. I strongly suspect that you are experiencing that need.”

“If the anomaly was caused by the Serpent-Wolf,” Zen murmured in the tone of one speculating aloud, “it may be using its connection to the magatama we found to circumvent the defenses we built around the condo -- we did bring Hanzo dangerously too close if that is the case.”

Hanzo swallowed the mouthful of soup he’d taken. “That wasn’t your fault. None of you could have known.”

Zen acknowledged the point with a graceful inclination of his head. “And you being strong enough to break its attempt to dominate you was not something it could have known. Now it does, and that increases the risk to you.” A fractional pause. “In Dr. Saddind-Maas’ absence, do you have reason to go back to campus right now? If not, you should probably stay here, where the defenses are more consistent and robust.”

Genji choked, swallowed, croaked, “Wait, wait, what?”

“Dr. Saddind-Maas appears to be missing,” Hanzo admitted reluctantly, around the remains of a fifth tamale. “I was, uh, questioned about the last time I saw her this afternoon --”

“Questioned?” Genji asked, and flicked a look at Zen. “You were, too, weren’t you?”

“I believe I said as much,” Zen replied, displaying such deft rhetorical evasion skills that Hanzo was briefly envious.

“You said that campus security had asked you about the Student Union --” Genji stopped, exchanged glances with Lucio and Hana. “The MiBs? Are they involved here somehow? Trying to make connections? Because we all know the campus rent-a-cops don’t have enough between their ears to fire up a light bulb much less the imagination necessary to put what’s actually going on here together.”

“One of the people who spoke to Hanzo was the head of security for TALON -- gave her name as Amelie Lacroix.” Jesse replied, hesitated fractionally. “The other one was Chase Whitehawk, acting in his capacity as an agent of the TSS.”

Across the table, Jack, Ana, and Reinhardt all went totally still in three completely separate and disturbing ways. Very deliberately, Jack took a sip of his soup, set it down, and said, “I’m still working on digging out more details about TALON -- my usual resources are markedly reluctant to share intel on them, which in and of itself says something. The Lacroix thing, though? That’s...not good.”

“The Lacroix are a family of vessenjaegers,” Reinhardt added, his tone freighted with a concern all the more disturbing coming as it was from him. “Monster hunters, witch hunters, greatly feared for centuries and with good reason. They are killers without peer.”

“The Whitehawks are much the same -- they’re a clan whose purpose has always been to protect the people from the naayéé, and they take that duty seriously.” The corner of Jesse’s mouth quirked back, the expression there and gone again, and Hanzo took his hand beneath the table, squeezed it gently. “Those forces making common cause, at the direction of unknown parties...well. I’m not sure that bodes well for anybody.”

“Not likely, no.” Jack replied flatly. “I’ll lean a bit harder where I can, open some other lines of inquiry. Otherwise, I tend to agree with the good doctor on the issue of Hanzo staying here in town for the time being.”

“I do have other classes, you know,” Hanzo said, aggrieved.

“Yes, but you can’t pass any of them if you die or have your soul eaten or your body stolen,” Terrifying Smoke Gabe pointed out sweetly. “And there are things you can do here to minimize the possibility of that outcome in the meantime.”

“...Point.” Hanzo was forced by native honesty to admit. “I can do most of my Instructor Aesthetics in Art Education work from here, too.”

The initial expression on Genji’s face, as he opened his mouth, suggested he was going to say one thing only to have his train of thought unexpectedly derailed, explosively, and sent plunging over the edge of a potentially bottomless ravine. “...I didn’t know you were taking education track courses.”

“It seemed a reasonable alternative to starving artistry,” Hanzo replied wryly. “Though I’m finishing that approach first -- Dr. Saddind-Maas thought it would be detrimental to studio program to fully commit to a second degree while one was already in progress.”

“You are a fucking masochist.” Genji informed him. “But, for the record, I think you’d make a good teacher -- I mean, you were a thousand orders of magnitude more patient with everybody back home and I’d have been. They’d still be looking for all the body parts if I had to teach Goro’s kids how to do anything.”

“Thank you,” Hanzo replied, absurdly touched.

“You’re welcome.” Genji smiled sweetly. “How long has your flaky thesis advisor been missing?”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” And at Genji’s flat look, “I don’t know for certain -- the two that interrogated me didn’t allow that information to slip. She has not, however, responded to the text I sent her this morning and the last communications I have from her were all sent on Saturday. She was...considering going to the condo.”

“So she might be actually, legitimately missing.” Genji said into the thoughtful silence around the table. “Or she could be shacked up somewhere with that Bob Ross clone who’s always telling the CS students they need to go outside and make a pot or something with her phone turned off.”

“Yes, exactly.” Hanzo looked down to discover his plate empty again and his stomach not immediately agitating for more and settled for sipping his lemonade.

“So we’re not going to panic yet.” Genji leaned back in his chair and glanced at Lucio and Hana. “I’ve got my usability testing practical tomorrow afternoon and lectures in the morning. You two?”

“Composition and rhetoric paper presentation in the morning, digital research seminar in the afternoon -- I’m not going to be out of class until close to seven.” Hana pulled out her tablet. “I might be able to ditch the seminar, the paper’s already been submitted, and my presentation on that one isn’t until Thursday at the earliest.”

“Lectures all day for me and for the next several -- my next presentation isn’t until Friday. That’d be the advanced sound design for digital media project I was working on with Cora before she actually disappeared.” Lucio glanced around the table. “D’you...think it might be risky for us to go to school with these MiBs lurking around?”

“Maybe?” Hot Vampire Jack answered. “It’d definitely look suspicious if you all dropped off the face of the Earth simultaneously.”

“True.” Genji sighed. “Look, the best we can do is hang close together, stay in contact with the hacienda, and call for help if we need it. If any of us get cornered alone, we answer their questions to the best of our ability, but we legit don’t know anything.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Lucio agreed and Hana nodded, frowning at her tablet.

Hanzo was excused that evening from after dinner chores by virtue of his wounded hand (“It’s not that badly wounded!”) and instead set to the task of sorting his own admittedly somewhat neglected laundry hamper and putting on a load to wash. It would, he admitted without shame, be nice to wear clothes that weren’t some variation of sweats and a tee-shirt again, even if the variation was only cargo pants, and to have his own pyjamas and underwear for bed. He set the machine, a high efficiency water recycling model, then wandered into the sitting room with the idle thought of restarting his book again, only to be ambushed by Zenyatta, carrying a much larger and more comprehensively supplied first aid kit.

“Sit,” Zen said in a tone close enough to a command that Hanzo, trained from the cradle to obey reasonable authority figures, immediately planted himself on the couch. “Let me see your hand -- the field dressing I used probably won’t stay put through the night.”

“Really, it’s not that bad,” Hanzo insisted, as Terrifying Smoke Gabe materialized to observe the proceedings.

“It was visibly blistering,” Zen countered, exasperated, as he carefully peeled off the last layer of bandaging and reached for a packet of delicately fragrant, likely exceedingly magical wet wipes. “It has to be -- oh. Oh my.”

The messy blistered blotch that had marred his right palm was significantly less of both -- the skin still reddened, as though he’d set his hand against something hot, and raised slightly, but not as if it were blistered. Instead it was a visible pattern: a near-perfect circle on the pad below the right index finger, a curving series of ridges across the palm below that resembled nothing so much as roiling stormclouds, jagged lightning crawling among their swirls.

Hanzo spoke for all of them when he said, “What fresh Hell is this?”

“Doesn’t look that Hellish to me, kid,” Terrifying Smoke Gabe observed from his perch on the back of the couch. “And, trust me, I speak with a certain quantity of direct personal experience on that score. Does it hurt?”

“Not...really?” He flexed his fingers and while the skin on his palm pulled a bit with the motion there wasn’t even much of a sting left. “We’re all seeing this as a pattern, right?”

“Yes,” Zen confirmed as he took gentle possession of Hanzo’s wrist and carefully applied a cool, damp wipe to it, then looked again.

The patterning didn’t wipe away but the red visibly faded and the swelling went down almost at once, clarifying the details so nicely that, when Genji strolled in squabbling good naturedly with Lucio and Hana, she could stop, lean over the arm of the couch, and say, “Hey! I’ve seen that somewhere before.”

His hand immediately became the central point of focus of the entire cluster as his brother and Lucio joined them, Genji giving him a narrow-eyed look containing a massive sibling concern storm and Lucio adding, “I’ve seen it too but I can’t remember where.”

“The genealogy chart.” Genji added, concern doing a little dance with realization on his face. “It was on the genealogy chart -- I remember it, too.”

“Really? I don’t --” And then he did, or thought he did, and dug around in his bag with his free hand, pulling out his tablet and pulling up the relevant files, poking through them until he came up with the mon of unknown origin/function list. “I’ll be damned.”

“Please don’t say that,” Genji replied not at all serenely. “Fifteen instances across both halves of the clan, over a thousand years -- including our missing warrior-woman.” He pulled up the list of holders. “And of course there’s no detailed information about how they came to be awarded it or possess it or why.” He paused, traced his fingers over the list. “Kazutaka had it, too.”

“That’s more often than not the truth of many of the older aspects of the clan’s history -- before we settled permanently in Hanamura, we carried our history on our backs.” Hanzo smiled wryly. “Bits and pieces got lost along the way.”

“Inconvenient that this was one of them.” Genji traced his fingertips over the mark. “There’s, like, a zero percent chance that this isn’t significant in some way, right?”

“It is extremely unlikely.” Zen replied, closing up the case, and taking Hanzo’s hand in both his own. “I thought it looked like ward-burn back at the condo -- that can happen when warding energies ground themselves through a physical conduit. But it may be more than that.”

“The spatial anomaly collapsed when he closed the door -- apparently to the second, from what you were saying, and Jaime’s data pretty much supports the conclusion.” Gabe replied thoughtfully. “You sense any residuals, Dr. Tekhartha?”

Three of Zenyatta’s orbs curled themselves into existence around them, glowing gently and chiming as they were wont to do, as he closed his eyes, a little concentration mark forming between his brows. Hanzo forced himself to relax, to breathe normally, to let his hand rest lightly in Zen’s and he was not entirely sure where the lightning-stroke-bright flash came from, his palm or Zen’s orbs, or the flare of purple, deeper and more vivid than any natural light, but the shockwave definitely forced their hands apart, and then the rest of them, and the next time Hanzo was aware enough to realize what was going on around him he was laying sprawled on his back between Genji and Terrifying Smoke Gabe on the sitting room’s exquisite hardwood floor, staring up at the definitely supernatural plasterwork of the ceiling, itself crackling with lightning-silver-eye wateringly-painful-violet threads of energy, rapidly dispersing. His skull was ringing like a selection of Lucio’s tuning forks, each set to a slightly different pitch, he was pretty sure a portion of his brain was trying to ooze out of his ears, and his hand ached from the tips of his fingers all the way to the elbow.

Next to him, Terrifying Smoke Gabe pushed himself up on his elbows, surveyed the wreckage of the living room and asked, “What the fuck just happened?”

“I...don’t know. Genji?” Hanzo reached over and gave his brother, dazed and blinking rapidly as he came back to his senses, a careful shake. “Are you okay?”

“What -- that was -- I’ve only seen that --” Genji bit down on what he’d been about to say, started scrambling to his feet, couldn’t quite manage it and sat down hard again. “Where’s Zen?”

The heavy couch they’d all been sitting on was laying on its back, throw pillows thrown, cushions askew. The end tables were likewise located far afield from their previous positions, at least one lamp smashed, the other tipped over but still alight, casting bizarre and vaguely threatening shadows across the wall and ceiling, along with the weirdly flickering violet light still emanating from beyond the tipped-over furniture.

“Zen?” Hanzo heaved himself to his feet one-armed, his skull slowly ceasing its suture-threatening vibrations, offering his good hand to Gabe as, in the near distance, dogs began barking and footsteps thumped across the floor and voices raised in alarm became clearly audible.

“Here,” For the first time in ever, or at least as long as Hanzo could remember, Zenyatta did not sound some species of serenely in control of himself, “I am here.”

He was, in fact, planted against the far wall next to the fireplace, folded around himself, his head in his hands. Scintillating filaments of purple flickered under his skin, girdling his fingers and wrists in patterns that pressed themselves into the backs of Hanzo’s eyes, stomach-churning with their intensity, as he made his way around the couch toward him. “Are you okay? What --”

“Wait.” He flug out a hand, palm up, and Hanzo froze where he stood. “Just...just a moment.”

The filaments marking his palm with a pattern not unlike an open, slit-pupiled eye flared and faded from the outside in, peeled away from his fingers and flowed up his arm and away and by the time Hot Vampire Jack burst in with Lucio and Hana and the pack in tow, he was mostly himself again, weary and slightly dazed and unnaturally out of sorts, a little ashy from the fireplace tools he’d slammed into, his eyes a washed-out dull gray. Jesse paused in the doorway and immediately crossed to his side, offering him a steadying hand as Genji helped Zen up, unsteadily, to his feet.

“I take this to mean,” Terrifying Smoke Gabe asked dryly, as he and Lucio and Hana righted the couch and got Zen settled on it, “that there were some remnant energies?”

“Yes,” Zenyatta replied, slightly brittle around the edges, and accepted the cup of tea Jack handed to him. “I am...not entirely certain why they reacted as strongly as they did but…” Zen looked up and caught his eyes, smiled with such ridiculously warm reassurance that Hanzo felt himself responding completely, comfort mingled with relief and gratitude. “Hanzo, I believe that you did close the door attempting to open there, in every possible and literal sense.”

Hanzo clutched Jesse’s hand, forced himself to reply calmly and evenly, “My gifts...do you think they are…?”

“I think,” Zenyatta replied carefully, “that you still possess an abundance of will, and of knowledge, and that you may finally be healing from the injury done you all those years ago. How this is tied to the Serpent-Wolf, or the magatama within you, or your bond with Ranger McCree, are questions we will have to answer sooner rather than later. But, for now, I think we should all rest and approach them with fresh eyes and minds, tomorrow. I, for one, have a wretched headache.”

#WIP Ghost Stories On Route 66 #I'll fix the italics tomorrow

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jalmalapilling-blog · 6 years ago

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Pilling Work

JALMALA PILLING WORKS is as one of the fast growing company in the field of Foundations i.e. Diaphragm wall, Piling, Shoring, Drilling/Grouting, Solar Projects & Civil Construction with, commitment towards Clients satisfaction, exemplify quality as well as in services.

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ebenalconstruct · 3 years ago

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HS2 under fire for use of non-UK approved imported rebar

HS2 is being challenged for using steel reinforcement from a non-UK approved Fench steel fabricator.

French fabricator Sendin has supplied pre-assembled steel reinforcement panels for the diaphragm walls forming two of the critical ventilation shafts on the Chiltern Tunnels section of the vast project.

It will also deliver further assemblies to the same section over the coming months.

HS2 claims the decision was taken to use the rebar fabricator because no other UK supplier could provide the necessary steel.

The volume of steel rebar awarded to Sendin is estimated at less than 5% of the total rebar used on Align’s section of the HS2 project.

A spokesperson for HS2 Ltd said: “The original supplier of this steel reinforcement was UK-based, however this supplier was unable to maintain the agreed programme – forcing potential delays and therefore higher costs on the project.

“Our contractor approached all suitable alternative UK suppliers, but none could provide the necessary product in time.

He said: “The French fabricator Sendin is an internationally renowned supplier in this market that had previously held full UK certification and is in the process of being re-certified.

“They were able to respond quickly, allowing the project to stay on schedule. HS2 Ltd continues to work with UK Steel to provide updates on opportunities and broker relationships between its members and the HS2 supply chain.”

But British fabricators complain that the move conflicts with HS2’s own specification stipulating the need to use UK CARES approved fabricated reinforcement.

They also are concerned that the UK CARES certification body failed to act promptly to police the situation after being alerted back in March.

Stephen Elliott, Chairman of the British Association of Reinforcement, said there was ample UK rebar to supply demand in the market.

“HS2 is a major UK project being paid for by the UK public. It is, therefore, disappointing that HS2 is not ready to fully support the UK steel industry,” he said.

“We had hoped that UK major projects will work with, and not undermine, the UK steel industry.”

He added: “Of equal disappointment is that, despite being alerted to the importation of non-approved reinforcement, UK Cares has yet to make a formal public statement.

“CARES must been seen to police its own scheme, if it wants to stop another major project going down the same route.

Elliott added: “But nine months on since the CARES was first alerted such retrospective approval is rather like shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted.”

Fabricator Sendin is certified to meet the French AFCAB steel reinforcement certification scheme.

But rivals say it does not hold UK approval for reinforcement cutting and bending and reinforcing bars as the French standard does not meet the requirements of BS 4449 particularly in respect of the specified fatigue properties.

Nor does it hold UK approval for the application of the specified TA1-A reinforcement couplers.

Trade body UK Steel’s Director General, Gareth Stace, said: “It is hugely disappointing to see HS2 failing here to take the most basic step of using of steel made to British Standards.

“Such practice is practically universal practice across the UK construction sector, HS2 would have almost had to go out of its way not to use British Standard steel.

“In doing so, HS2 has missed a vital opportunity to support UK jobs and economic growth through its spending of taxpayer’s money.”

A spokesman for UK CARES said: “CARES continues to work closely with all its clients – in particular those engaged in major public sector infrastructure projects where safety, quality and sustainability standards are paramount.

“Those clients recognise that CARES certification is only achieved as a result of robust, wholly independent assurance processes which operate across a dynamic global steel supply chain.”

from https://www.constructionenquirer.com/2021/10/26/hs2-under-fire-for-use-of-non-uk-approved-rebar/

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jaigeddes · 3 years ago

Text

HS2 under fire for use of non-UK approved imported rebar

HS2 is being challenged for using steel reinforcement from a non-UK approved Fench steel fabricator.

It will also deliver further assemblies to the same section over the coming months.

HS2 claims the decision was taken to use the rebar fabricator because no other UK supplier could provide the necessary steel.

The volume of steel rebar awarded to Sendin is estimated at less than 5% of the total rebar used on Align’s section of the HS2 project.

“Our contractor approached all suitable alternative UK suppliers, but none could provide the necessary product in time.

He said: “The French fabricator Sendin is an internationally renowned supplier in this market that had previously held full UK certification and is in the process of being re-certified.

But British fabricators complain that the move conflicts with HS2’s own specification stipulating the need to use UK CARES approved fabricated reinforcement.

They also are concerned that the UK CARES certification body failed to act promptly to police the situation after being alerted back in March.

Stephen Elliott, Chairman of the British Association of Reinforcement, said there was ample UK rebar to supply demand in the market.

“HS2 is a major UK project being paid for by the UK public. It is, therefore, disappointing that HS2 is not ready to fully support the UK steel industry,” he said.

“We had hoped that UK major projects will work with, and not undermine, the UK steel industry.”

He added: “Of equal disappointment is that, despite being alerted to the importation of non-approved reinforcement, UK Cares has yet to make a formal public statement.

“CARES must been seen to police its own scheme, if it wants to stop another major project going down the same route.

Elliott added: “But nine months on since the CARES was first alerted such retrospective approval is rather like shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted.”

Fabricator Sendin is certified to meet the French AFCAB steel reinforcement certification scheme.

Nor does it hold UK approval for the application of the specified TA1-A reinforcement couplers.

Trade body UK Steel’s Director General, Gareth Stace, said: “It is hugely disappointing to see HS2 failing here to take the most basic step of using of steel made to British Standards.

“Such practice is practically universal practice across the UK construction sector, HS2 would have almost had to go out of its way not to use British Standard steel.

“In doing so, HS2 has missed a vital opportunity to support UK jobs and economic growth through its spending of taxpayer’s money.”

“Those clients recognise that CARES certification is only achieved as a result of robust, wholly independent assurance processes which operate across a dynamic global steel supply chain.”

0 notes

architectnews · 3 years ago

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Cambridge Mosque, Romsey Building

Cambridge Central Mosque, Romsey Building Images, Islamic Architecture England, Stirling Prize News

Cambridge Mosque Building, UK

Cambridge Mosque Building, southeast England design by Marks Barfield Architects

post updated 16 September 2021

Cambridge Central Mosque shortlisted for RIBA Stirling Prize 2021

Design: Marks Barfield Architects

Photos by Morley von Sternberg

Jury Report The urban intervention of inserting a mosque capable of welcoming 1000 worshipers within a low rise, residential neighbourhood, without dominating it, is masterful. Its presence is clear but modest, considering the size of the mosque relative to the two storey terrace houses around it. This is achieved by setting it back from the street, progressing through the Islamic garden, then gradually increasing in scale to front portico, atrium with café to one side and study centre to the other, through to central ablution areas. The building then rises at the rear to the largest mass of the prayer hall, which shifts in geometry to face Mecca.

The defining internal characteristic of the mosque is the timber ‘trees’ which form the structural support for the roof and the rooflights. The geometry of the trees was developed through work with geometric artist, Keith Critchlow, creating the underlying geometry of the mosque. It combines an Islamic ‘the Breath of the Compassionate’ pattern into a structural grid that supports the roof and is then brought to a point at the columns. It is a simple device that combines the structural logic of supporting a large span with few columns and a celebration of the structural material and its decorative possibilities, bringing to mind both Fosters’ Stansted Airport, and Kings College Chapel.

The external brick tiles that clad the CLT structure are from traditional Cambridge Gault and red brick colours. The protruding headers form a pattern of Arabic Kufic calligraphy that reads ‘say he is God (the) one’.

Social and environmental sustainability were central to the competition-winning scheme and have been delivered. The intent was to produce a building that is in accord with the spiritual belief that humanity’s role is as a responsible custodian of nature and should minimise its carbon footprint. The building has achieved Net Zero Carbon energy on site in use. The competing elements of the demand for car parking to suit large events with elderly congregations, creating an underground car park and the environmental consequences of embodied carbon have been recognised. The passive and active sustainable measures incorporated within the building meet and exceed some elements of the RIBA 2030 targets and other elements of the design have future-proofed the building to allow for predicted climate change.

Material selection is exemplary, with the superstructure predominantly timber, low carbon concrete specified, and natural insulation resulting in minimal embodied carbon. The selection of Cradle to Cradle Certified products also demonstrates the conscious efforts to minimise the building’s impact on the environment.

Water consumption is also low, meeting the RIBA 2030 Climate Challenge target and confirmed by meter readings – in the water stressed area of East Anglia this is particularly important. The transformation of an impermeable surface to a building with green roofs to assist with local surface water runoff.

Post occupancy evaluation data shows in use consumption are within 15% of the energy predictions, which suggests a narrowing of the performance gap.

Central Cambridge mosque is a demonstration of how architecture can embody religious and cultural philosophy and traditions while utilising sustainable and contemporary materials. It is a building of evident programmatic clarity and function, where one of those essential functions is religious contemplation and delight. It has created a new, 21st century, non-denominational British mosque that is both specific to its place and time and which resonates with wider Islamic and religious buildings. To have achieved this in Cambridge, with its world famous tradition of structural expression in religious architecture yet without contrivance is a remarkable achievement.

Project Architect of the Year Matthew Wingrove is a passionate advocate for the building. The client, Iman Sejid Mekic, who operates the building every day, clearly respected his professional expertise and evidently liked him too. That he was able to bring to fruition a building that picks up the original competition winning design concept and deliver it to its full potential is a testament to his capabilities and his dedication.

Client of the year – Cambridge Mosque Trust To launch an RIBA international competition and select a design and a design team and carry it through to successful completion over the following decade is testament to the commitment and dedication of the client to producing a contemporary mosque for the 21st century and an enduring piece of architecture. In particular, Dr Tim Winter, Shaykh Zayed Lecturer in Islamic Studies, Director of Studies, Wolfson College should be recognised both for the scale of the ambition, for pursuing a mosque that sets a new environmental and inclusive benchmark, and for the Trust’s rigorous and steadfast approach to seeing it through to completion.

Cambridge Mosque Building, UK – Building Information

RIBA region: East Architect practice: Marks Barfield Architects Date of completion: April 2019 Client company name: Cambridge Mosque Trust Project city/town: Cambridge Contract value: £23,100,000.00 Internal area: 4,900.00 sqm Cost per m²: £4,385.00 / sqm Contractor company name: Gilbert Ash

Consultants

Structural Engineers: Price & Myers Environmental / M&E Engineers: Skelly & Couch Project Management: Bidwells Quantity Surveyor / Cost Consultant: Faithful + Gould Landscape Architects: Emma Clark with Urquhart & Hunt Timber Engineer: Blumer Lehmann Geometric Artist: Professor Keith Critchlow Acoustic Engineers: Ramboll Fire Engineer: Harris TPS CDM Principal Designer: Faithful + Gould Planning Consultant: Bidwells

Awards

• RIBA Regional Award • Regional Project Architect of the Year • Regional Client of the Year • Regional Building of the Year

Stirling Prize

Brick Awards 2019

Cambridge Central Mosque award – shortlisted for Brick Awards 2019

28 Nov 2011

Cambridge Mosque Building

Europe’s first eco-friendly mosque

Address: 309-313, Mill Rd, Cambridge CB1 3DF

Phone: 01223 654020

Design: Marks Barfield Architects

Ambitious Cambridge Mosque Project Submitted for Planning Permission

A planning application for the proposed new mosque in Cambridge has been submitted to Cambridge City Council.

Designed by a team led by Marks Barfield Architects and including Prof. Keith Critchlow (artist), Jacobs (structure), Skelley and Couch (services), Emma Clark (landscape), and Bidwells (project management and planning), the proposed mosque will allow the downsizing of the existing overcrowded facility, housed in a former chapel on Mawson Road, which is no longer physically capable of accommodating Cambridge’s growing Muslim community.

Entrance View of the Proposed Mosque from Mill Road Visitors will be able to experience a gradual transition, through a garden, a covered portico, and an atrium, into the main prayer hall which is oriented towards Mecca. The building will be naturally lit and create an overall impression of calm, stillness, stability, quiet and focus: image © Marks Barfield Architects

Located a few hundred yards from the current mosque, the design of the new structure strives for an English idiom while drawing inspiration from the natural world, and acknowledging Islamic art as a living tradition – without resorting to clichéd English or Islamic references.

On entering from the street, visitors will experience a gradual transition through a garden, a covered portico, and an atrium, until they reach the main prayer hall which is oriented towards Mecca. Trees give way to a covered space around a fountain, and then to the mosque itself, a private, inner space which soars to a height of three stories.

The enclosing diaphragm walls are faced in local gault brick and step back from the building perimeter up to the central prayer hall. Sixteen interlaced glue-laminated timber columns, evocative of English fan vaulting or Islamic arabesque, support the geometrical roof of the inner sanctuary. Glass oculi above the columns bathe the interior in natural light. A golden dome rises above the mihrab and minbar. In hours of darkness, high-efficiency LCD lights provide a soft but effective luminescence.

Aerial View of the Proposed Mosque Looking West Towards the City Centre Accommodating up to 1,000 men and women, the mosque will have green roofs and will be faced in local gault brick. It will step from the site perimeter up to the central prayer hall and its golden dome. The site also accommodates a community café, teaching rooms, two residential units, 120 bicycle parking spaces, and an underground car park for 80 vehicles: image © Marks Barfield Architects

The site also accommodates a community kitchen and café, teaching rooms, two residential units and an underground car park for 80 vehicles. As Britain’s first ‘eco-mosque’, the structure is highly energy-efficient, with heat pumps, heat recovery systems, water recycling, and green roofs ensuring a minimal carbon footprint, emphasizing humanity’s role as a responsible custodian of creation. The building will act as an oasis surrounded by cypress trees. The prayer hall will have a capacity of up to 1,000 people.

The design of the proposed Cambridge mosque celebrates the miracle of nature and subtly expresses the mathematical order which underlies it.

On behalf of the Trust, Chairman Tim Winter said:

‘We have spent time consulting with the local community and local stakeholders to ensure this building will be truly inclusive, sustainable, safe, secure and respectful of its context. It will be easily accessible by public transport and on foot, and will have its own underground car park with 80 car parking spaces, supported by a travel plan which ensures that car parking does not become an issue for local neighbours. Our hope is that this will become a landmark building which will inject new life into the Romsey area of Cambridge, a monument of which the local and wider Cambridge community can be proud’

Cambridge Mosque Project – Background Information

Professor Keith Critchlow

Professor Critchlow founded the Visual Islamic and Traditional Arts programme (VITA) at the Royal College of Art. VITA now forms the core education programme of the Prince’s School of Traditional Arts of which Professor Critchlow is Professor Emeritus. He has written extensively on Islamic art and architecture. His most recent book is entitled ’The Hidden Geometry of Flowers: Living Rhythms, Form and Number’ (2011).

The Muslim Academic Trust (MAT)

Founded in 1996, the Muslim Academic Trust is a charity which sponsors and supports a wide range of projects in the service of the Muslim community.

Cambridge Mosque Building images / information from Marks Barfield Architects

Marks Barfield Architects

Location: Mill Road, Cambridge, England, UK

Cambridge Architecture

Cambridge Architecture Design – chronological list

Cambridge Architecture Walking Tours : city walks by e-architect

Mosque Buildings

Cambridge Architecture

Cambridge Architect

Gonville & Caius Boathouse – Architecture Competition Belsize Architects Gonville & Caius Boathouse

Clare College – New Court van Heyningen and Haward Architects Clare College New Court

Cambridge University Department of Architecture Extension Mole Architects Cambridge School of Architecture

Comments / photos for the Cambridge Mosque Project – Islamic Architecture UK page welcome

The post Cambridge Mosque, Romsey Building appeared first on e-architect.

#e-architect

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shriblinfra · 4 years ago

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kamar-infrastructures · 5 years ago

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Pile Foundation Work, Pile Services, Piling Contractors in India

Kamar Infrastructure Pvt. Ltd. has grown to establish itself as a highly professional Civil Engineering Contractor in the 13 years. We are in the field of Foundations works via; Diaphragm wall, Piling, Shoring piling, Pre-stressed rock anchors, piling for Solar Projects. As well as the complete solutions for Foundation Tools viz. Diaphragm wall Grab, Piling Augers / Buckets / Core Barrels, Bentonite / Polymer Tanks, All Capacity Crawler Cranes, Vibro -hammers, etc. in India. We also have the expertise to install monopiles, continuous flight auger piles, and displacement piles. We have also installed a high quantum of large diameter bored cast-in-situ and driven piling for waterfront and offshore structures.

Client satisfaction has always been the ethos of our company. This is achieved by a combination of prompt and efficient service, finish quality, adherence to health and safety restrictions and site rules, good people, site conduct and presentation, good client relationships and a non-contractual approach. We have a large fleet of high capacity drilling rigs covering a drilling spectrum of 0.5m to 3.0m reaching depths up to 80m using drilling monsters - HR 260, HR 180, HR 130, and SR 40 Drilling through rocks to achieve ultimate pile capacities of up to 1500 t. Kamar is proud to carry business along with caring for the environment using environment-friendly polymer in place of bentonite as drilling fluid, enabling higher quality drilling.

As such, we have successfully built up long term relationships and repeat business with a host of leading organizations across the commercial, industrial and local authority sectors throughout India. We operate from a modern and well-presented head office and workshop premises in Taloja- Navi Mumbai & corporate office situated in Mazgaon, Mumbai.

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buildexpoafrica · 5 years ago

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TOTAL FOUNDATION SOLUTIONS FZCO AT BUILDEXPO 2019 from 12-14 September (Thur, Fri, Sat), 2019 at Diamond Jubilee Hall, Dar es Salaam, Tanzania.

Entry is Free. Invitation available at: https://www.expogr.com/tanzania/buildexpo/invitation.php

Total Foundation Solutions FZCO (TFS) supplies specialist equipment for ground engineering contractors in the six countries of the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC) - United Arab Emirates, Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, Qatar, Bahrain, Kuwait & Oman. TFS is the GCC distributor of specialist equipment for Foundation Piling, Anchoring, Grouting & Diaphragm Walls, Ground Improvement, & Soil Investigation stocking & selling exclusively for rotary bored piling machines & accessories, CFA piling machines & augers, Anchoring, micro-piling, soil investigation & waterwell drilling rigs, Pumps & mixers for injection & jet grouting & mud plants, Rapid Impact Compaction (RIC) rigs, Excavator-mounted vibros & drills, Vibroflots & power packs. Visit them at stand number B209. http://totalfoundations.com/

For more information visit the event website at: https://www.expogr.com/tanzania/buildexpo/

#buildexpo #tradeshows #exhibition #building #products #TotalFoundationSolutions #expogroup

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solivar · 6 years ago

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WIP: Ghost Stories On Route 66

In which Jesse tells some stories, albeit not about ghosts.