#steel checker plate

[ratan0706]

Key Benefits of Using Hot Dip Galvanized Chequered Plates in Construction

A chequered plate or checker plate is the type of metal plate with a raised diamond pattern to enhance grip and traction. The alloy is often prepared of steel but is sometimes manufactured in various other metals also like aluminum, stainless steel, etc. The checkered version is referred to as a Galvanized checkered plate wherein one or both the sides of plates are covered under the zinc oxide as the coating via the galvanization method which is usually hot dipped. The result is a steel checker plate that is more resistant to corrosion and wear, making it ideal for use in environments prone to harsh weather and heavy traffic.

1. Enhanced Durability and Corrosion Resistance

The foremost advantage of having a galvanized checker plate sheet is enhanced durability. It protects the steel due to the galvanized zinc coating, from the moisture, air, and other factors causing rust and corrosion. Thus, the chequered plate proves ideal for outdoors or areas of high humidity, such as construction sites, factories, and warehouses.

In construction, using a galvanized chequered plate ensures that structures become safe and reliable for a very long time where the safety of workers is an utmost priority. The galvanized layer acts as a barrier, a protective layer over the chequered plate providing a long life against the roughest environmental conditions.

2. Improved Safety and Anti-Slip Properties

The raised pattern of a checker plate not only gives aesthetic appeal to the surface but also greatly enhances safety. The design of the steel checker plate creates friction, reducing the likelihood of slipping. This makes it suitable for stair treads, walkways, and industrial flooring. This is very important in construction zones, where workers are usually required to work in challenging conditions.

Whether it is installed on a floor, staircase, or platform, the chequered plate sheet with its anti-slip properties offers a safe working environment and allows personnel to move safely and comfortably across surfaces without the risk of accidents caused by slippery floors.

3. Cost-Effectiveness

Though some construction materials can be quite expensive, hot dip galvanized chequered plates do not cost a fortune without affecting the quality and safety standards. The base steel plate from which checker plates are made is widely available, and the galvanization process is relatively cheap compared to other corrosion protection processes. Thus, long-term protection through hot dip galvanized chequered plates makes it a feasible choice.

Furthermore, the galvanized coating prolongs the life of the material, meaning that less maintenance and fewer replacements are needed. This reduces long-term costs for construction companies and ensures that investments in materials like steel checker plate provide excellent value over time.

3. Safety

Hot-dip galvanized steel has a life expectancy greater than 50 years within any environment, making it fit to be used for integral structural components of stainless-steel cable trays and earthing systems.

4. Versatility in Application

The versatility of hot dip galvanized chequered plates in construction is another key advantage. Hot Dip Galvanized Checker plates can be used for industrial, commercial, or residential construction. They can be used for multiple purposes, such as:

Flooring: Suitable for high-traffic areas like factory floors, warehouses, and garages.

Stair Treads: Provides grip and durability on both indoor and outdoor stairs.

Platforms: Offers a strong, slip-resistant surface for either temporary or permanent platforms.

Ramps: Helps prevent slipping on ramps which can become slippery and wet.

Walkways: Maintains safe and durable surfaces on pedestrian paths.

Apart from construction, checker plate sheets are also widely used for other purposes, such as vehicle loading ramps and protective coverings for machinery, thus showing their wide utility.

5. Easy Installation and Maintenance

Another major advantage of hot dip galvanized chequered plates is that they are easy to install. The steel base plate is relatively light in weight compared to other materials, hence easier to handle and install. Moreover, the galvanized coating ensures that the plates are resistant to rust and wear, thus reducing the need for constant maintenance.Since Hot Dip Galvanized checker plate sheets are quite resistant to weathering and corrosion, they will not degrade even when exposed to the elements. This means once the plates are installed, there is little to no upkeep required. This makes it an ideal solution for construction projects where quality and low-maintenance solutions are demanded.

6. Environmental Sustainability

Increasing pressure to adopt more environment friendly methods for the construction industry has resulted in galvanized checker plates becoming one of the popular options. In the application of zinc coating using a hot dip galvanizing process, corrosion is effectively repelled, and also, this is considered as safe for the environment. Zinc is naturally occurring metal and galvanized zinc coating applied to steel checker plates is easily recyclable.

In addition, the longer durability of galvanized materials minimizes the resources needed to be used for replacement and repairs. This also saves waste in construction and helps build more sustainably. Using hot dip galvanized chequered plates falls in line with the construction industry’s current trends toward sustainability.

7. Strength and Load-Bearing Capacity

Steel checker plates are known for their strength and load-bearing capacity. This makes them ideal for heavy-duty applications, such as industrial floors and platforms, where significant weight is placed on the surface. The raised pattern of a chequered plate adds strength, distributing the weight evenly across the surface. When properly installed, these plates can withstand heavy equipment, machinery, and foot traffic.

It is for such reasons that steel base plates are widely applied in the implementation of critical infrastructure projects, as the integrity of the construction has to be upheld in these projects.

8. High Aesthetic Appeal

Apart from the functional benefits, hot dip galvanized chequered plates are also aesthetically pleasing. The raised pattern gives a textured and visual appearance to surfaces, making them not only safe and functional but also attractive. This is very beneficial in areas where the appearance of the structure is important, such as in commercial buildings, modern architecture, and public spaces.

Undeniably, the construction benefits and attributes of using hot dip galvanized chequered plates are undeniable. Such plates provide enhanced durability and corrosion resistance yet deliver far more with anti-slip properties and ease of installation. We at Parco Engineers intend to provide high quality Hot Dip Galvanized steel checker plates, whereby the standards of each product would satisfy the criteria of the high and stringent demands of modern construction.

Whether it is flooring, stair treads, platforms, galvanized checker plates are versatile, durable, and cost-effective. Long-lasting performance and environmental sustainability make them a staple in the construction industry.For the best hot dip galvanized chequered plates, Parco Engineers continues to lead the way with innovative and reliable products that ensure the success of every construction project.

[laxmienterprise]

Top Advantages of Using MS Chequered Plate

The mild steel chequered plate is used for flooring, ramps, walkways, rail flooring and other structured purposes. In this blog we gives the Advantages of Chequered Plate, like Superior Weldability & Workability, Slip Resistance, Cost-Effective, and more. To learn more about MS Chequered Plate, visit us!

[bunny-jpeg]

secret tattoo (vol. 3)

lando norris

tags: smut/pwp, secret relationship, tattoos, assistant!reader, kitchen sex, implied dom!reader,

max edition // charles edition // lewis edition // toto edition

"she must have secrets somewhere. no one is that innocent. not even like a facebook profile or something....." lando trailed off while him and oscar eyed you while you were speaking to zak.

you were lando's new assistant, around his age with everything to the t. every box checked, perfect to keep mclaren's wonder in check. the issue was that lando had a keen eye. and he knew there was something, some secret that you were hiding.

curiosity got both drivers and a deep dive into your internet footprint turned up nothing. it wasn't that you had a lack of presence on it, it was just there was nothing to show. not even a drunken night at a club or an unsavory joke on twitter.

"maybe she's just that good." oscar shrugged, "perfect for this line of work." he turned to you, "i think maybe you're just assuming things, mate."

lando remained unconvinced. it wasn't until saw you after the summer break, usually your windbreaker while on the track covered your neck. but a shorter haircut plus the lack of the jacket combined to expose your dirty little secret.

you had a tattoo.

tattoos were no scandals. everyone and their mother had a tattoo nowadays. but the knowledge that you had one made sparks light off in lando's brain. it was so normal, but to lando it seemed so scandalous.

a little tattoo of a checkered flag. wasn't that sweet. it was so sweet that it made lando a little harder in his jeans when he saw it. he wanted to trace his fingers across it, kiss at it. watch you grow weak in the knees.

maybe it built onto the crush that lando harboured for you since the two of you met before the season. when you reached out and said, "lovely to meet you, mister norris. i hope we can work well together." then flashed him a smile that made something in his soul met.

you made him melt in ways that made him more willing to listen to his lovely assistant. zak once remarked that you trained him well. which you simply replied, "well mister brown, if lando is made is iron. then i'm made of steel."

so no wonder when you two ended up in a relationship. it was on your terms. lando was more than happy to put the trust in your hands. after all, you made sure that he got from point a to point b. you kept on a better leash than anyone else at mclaren could do.

but lando still wanted to kiss that tattoo so badly.

"hey, angel." he said as he came up behind you. he wrapped his strong arms around you and kissed the side of your neck. he asked, "i didn't know you had a tattoo?"

you chuckled, "i've told you i was always a fan of racing. so of course i'd end up with a tattoo of it." you rested against him, "i also have another one."

he replied, "and i thought that you were the innocent one."

you snorted a laugh as you flipped the pancakes in the pan, "oh please. unlike you, lando, i didn't have photos taken of me of every moment of every day. not everything needed photographic evidence."

"ah, well. i'd love to see you drunk at a club." lando remarked with his lips near the back of your neck, "now where's this other tattoo?"

"maybe after breakfast you can find out." you replied as you got the next pancake onto the plate. but lando was impatient with that sort of things. and he leaned over you to turn off the stove. and when you tried to swat him away with the spatula. you ended up over the counter top next to the stove. you could feel the heat of the appliance near by.

"mmm, aw, c'mon, beautiful. show it to me now. i wanna know all your dirty secrets." his voice was seductive. and while you held the reigns, lando know how to curl his hand in them as well. he leaned over you, his clothed hard on rubbed against your clothed behind, "i bet it's a tramp stamp. awww, dirty girl."

you moaned with your flushed face against the counter. damn lando norris, damn him. you replied, "it's not a tramp stamp. i've never been that drunk. it's on my bicep." and yelped when he got your shirt off over your head. his hand instantly touched your right bicep.

"aw, well isn't this a cute little tattoo.. a little cow."

you replied, "maybe you should get a matching one." you shuddered and let out a soft noise when lando's hands reached to the waistband of your sweatpants.

lando kissed the inked skin and replied, "no, no. i think you should get another. lucky number four." he chuckled, "that would be very cute. maybe my intials right up against your collarbone." his voice tinged with affection and sexual want.

to see his girlfriend/assistant with his number and initials across his skin was an arousing thought.

you chuckled against the granite counter top, "mmm, you know more girls ask for a ring, right? a little less permanent than a tattoo."

lando dropped your sweatpants and panties to your ankles and spread your legs a little further. he grabbed at his hard cock in his own pants and replied, "that's why i want you to get it. after all, i consider your my number one fan."

you rolled your eyes, "just a fan, huh?" and when you tried to move away from the counter, he placed a broad hand at the middle of your shoulders and pressed you back onto the counter. you moaned a little.

"but you're so much more than that, babe. you're the light of my life. the keeper of my secrets. you're my lover and so much more." he pulled his sweatpants and briefs under his cock. he stroked it a few times at the sight of your pussy and smiled to himself, "you're everything and so much more."

"and yet you want to taint my skin, mister norris?" you replied before you chuckled. your back arched a little when lando pressed himself into you.

"mm, i want to taint all of you." he held onto your hips, "make you all might. head to toe. body and soul." he kissed the center of your back where you were still in your bra. you felt the shudder of pleasure course through you as he fucked you up against the counter.

"you sound like a possessive man, lando." you looked over your shoulder and winked at him, "maybe you could have my name on you. so no one gets the wrong idea."

lando beamed at you for a moment, "well of course, everyone should know the woman who keeps me in line. made me a good boy." he rocked against you a little faster and you rested your head back against the counter.

you blushed a little more. his words really made your stomach clench. you felt really amazing under him. he knew how to fuck you so good, he knew how to make your stomach twist in the best way possible. there was something about lando. despite the trouble he could and had caused you, you yearned for him. something so deep. it felt like it was in your soul.

"you're everything to me. in more ways than one. i'm so lucky to have you, beautiful." he moved against you. he leaned forward once more and kissed the back of your neck where the tattoo was.

the sensation of his lips against a ticklish part of you made you tense up. your cunt clenched around his cock and he groaned at the feeling. which only spurred him on to kiss your tattoo more. to hear your sweet moans as he continued to fuck you with a heat in his gut.

while you usually didn't have sex in the kitchen. but lando couldn't help himself with you. there was something about you that just pulled him in. he loved the feeling of you in his arms.

he knew from the moment you met, that he'd want to be in your life for a long while. you held onto the edge of the counter while he rutted up against you. you moaned against the cool counter top, your hot breath warmed the area of the counter you were up against.

you could feel your sweaty body hot against the counter while he fucked you with an intensity that it radiated through your body. your thoughts were full of your lover while he moved. the two of you in the quiet kitchen of your apartment.

you were supposed to start the morning with some breakfast. pancakes for you to share, but it was hard to do that when lando had you up against the counter with his cock snug inside of you. but you could barely resist your lover on the track or when he was giving you puppy dog eyes when you scolded him for forgetting to reply to an email or was late for a meeting. so all bets were off when you two were alone.

his continued to kiss at the back of your neck and you held onto the counter top even tighter. he could feel the excitement in his chest, which caused it to clench. he panted heavily against you. he even kicked under the tattoo, where you were still ticklish and it made you tense up even more.

lando could only imagine how loud you got when you got the tattoo. he kissed your shoulders and continued to rut against you. his thrusts were short and fast, but the mounting pleasure made you feel the heat in your core.

"i can think of some other tattoos for you, beautiful." he said, "you look good with a bit of ink on your skin. turns me on even more." he chuckled as he kissed at you more.

"i can't believe you didn't know that i had another one."

he chuckled as he held onto you tighter, "never looking at your arms when i'm making you feel good." he said as he kissed your neck, which made you feel even more turned on.

"well aren't you a romantic." you moaned as you felt the pleasure hit its peak. you held onto the counter tightly as you arched your back a little bit and climaxed around his cock. your noises were short and your breathing was heavy. your heart was racing and you cursed under your breath.

this spurred lando on. he continued to fuck you and you made such sweet noises as he moved himself against you. he could feel the tension in his legs and the jelly in his knees. for even as someone as strong as him, it was hard for him to fuck while standing up. but, if you were able to climax. then he was going to get his.

his pace didn't stagger, only quicken. he felt the thrum of excitement in his chest as he moved. he kissed your back once more. with a few more thrusts, he pushed himself up inside of you. and finished inside of you. he groaned and said, "you're my girl." as he came.

he slowed to a stop and he kissed your cheek with a deep affection. you giggled a little. when he pulled out and got his cock back into his sweatpants, you still laid against the counter for a moment.

you exhaled deeply before you said, "you better help me finish the pancakes." before you reached for your bottoms. if he was going to give you mind blowing orgasms. he could at the very least help make breakfast.

-

there wasn't much affair when it happened. after a successful weekend in silverstone. you walked up to meet lando. he noticed a bandage behind your ear. it wouldn't be until you got to your next location that you'd show lando what was under the bandage

it was small, mostly covered by your hair. but lando say it as clear as day. the lucky number four, inked onto your soft skin. <3

the checkered flag tattoo

the cow tattoo

[qatarsteel]

Stay Safe and Stylish with Non-Slippery Chequered Plate from Qatar Steel Factory

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Anti-slip Plate | info@qatarsteelfactory.com | +974 4460 3365

[bitterrfruit]

houndtooth [11]

[masterlist]

Ghost x f!Reader 18+ mdni - 6k words

Ghost flicks the butt of his cigarette to the tarmac as he marches towards the Black Hawk, the gusts from the spinning blades quick to put out the smoke. He yanks his balaclava under his jaw with a fist. Outstretching his arm he grabs onto the metal frame of the helicopter’s open door, leaping up into the near-empty stomach of the aircraft. A soldier on the airfield rolls the door shut after him, it seals itself shut with a click and a dull thud. 

Illuminated by the dim red of the bulb above, there you sit. Arms still locked behind your back, a sack pulled loosely over your head. It seems Soap had the conscience to find the same army-green woollen blanket that Price had given you last time, and tossed it over your bare legs. He can’t see you breathing. You must barely be sipping air. 

He contemplates leaving you like that, blind and silent, barely a shadow in the dark cabin. But he feels compelled, as he steps towards you and you flinch at the sound, to at least allow you sight. His chosen tactic of stoking terror in you has served its purpose, now - you are malleable, compliant, you’ve committed yourself to his plan. There’s little need to continue tormenting you. No practical need, anyway.

With a careless fist he clutches the top of the cotton bag, tugging it from your head and holding it tightly in his hand. You squeak, turning briefly away in fright as your sight returns to you. But as you realise your surroundings, quickly glancing around the echoing cabin, your gaze lands on him. Glowering up at him from under twisted brows, mouth barely open, you swallow. Saying nothing. 

Christ.

Look at you. 

Your eyes are hauntingly dark, puffy, stained with melted mascara oozing black from your lashes. Your hair is greasy, looks matted; frizzed and curled and crimped chaotically in your captivity. There’s a split in your lip, swollen and red, a speckled mauve bruise on your cheek. 

Gone is the image of that pampered whore. No longer do you look like some meticulously manicured empress, sheltered and ignorant, deserving of odium. It’s hard to picture you, even, in your nauseatingly expensive clothes, donning a priceless mink coat and diamond-encrusted heels, flittering about your mansions, plural. 

It’s difficult to see you for what you are. 

Like this, you are more reminiscent of a cat turned feral; once loved, once cared for, then apathetically abandoned - ill-prepared for the world outside your sanctuary, forced to turn primal to survive. 

Yet, you look more human, don’t you. 

There’s a hunger in your glare, deep within your shadowed eyes, but he can see it  - a fierce desire to survive. A potent craving to be free. He can see how much you despise him, how much you scorn your misfortune. How eagerly you’d slaughter him to gain your freedom, if you could ever overpower him. He can see you thinking, analysing, plotting. You must have run out of acts to keep up. Are you stuck on which role to play for him? You’ve tried your hand as the succubus, then as the damsel - what next, little thing? 

There’s something visceral about you, now. Stripped down to the raw meat. To your persisting organs, dark and thumping. To your very last resorts. You’re quite the little animal, aren’t you?

Your gaze shifts from him, then, to the black bodybag that lies on the checker-plate steel of the cabin floor, dumped coldly in a pile against the wall. 

“Is that him?” You ask, monotone, eyes fixed and glassy. 

Ghost nods stiffly. “Yes. That’s him.” 

You inhale deeply, slowly, you twist your head away as though it had offended you. 

“Not very mournful, are you,” he remarks dryly, a needless comment that he didn’t question before uttering. He just wants to see how you react. A poke with a stick. Because even still, he cannot fathom that you could have loved your husband. That you felt anything for him beyond a gratitude for his bank account, and for whatever protection he supposedly provided you. He wonders, believes, that what you must have felt was dependency. Reliance twisted in retrospect into an emotion easier to swallow. That feeling, he knows. 

You look at your knees, your body is rigid. “I don’t- I don’t know what I feel anymore.” 

He grits his teeth, gripping the handrail on the ceiling as the helicopter roars loudly and begins its ascent. Can’t think of anything to say. 

You remained dead silent for the duration of the flight, and therefore, so did he.

The driveway of your estate is expansive enough to allow the chopper to drop down close to the main entrance, vast and ornate as it is. Your palace almost glitters in the grim daylight, Ghost begins to wonder if all of the florid architectural details are plated in gold. It wouldn’t surprise him. 

As the aircraft lowers to a hover above the asphalt of the courtyard, Ghost disengages the locked door and heaves it open, the metal moaning and clanking as it rolls along in its fastenings. The cold is not nearly as vicious as it had been the last time he arrived at your mansion, but he can see the impending snowstorm rolling in over the distant pine-coated hills. A blessing in disguise - a certain delay to any arriving Ultranationalists that are yet to receive your distress call. 

He turns to face you, then, and you only gaze vacantly out of the door, at your blood-soaked mansion. Your skin is drained and grey, eyes glistening with a vague horror. He leans down to you, holding you by the shoulders and lifting you to stand. Swivelling you, he tugs a combat knife from its sheath on his belt, pokes it through the black cable tie around your wrists and slices it off with a pop. 

“Out,” he barks, loud enough to be heard over the thunder of the rotator blades, as he puts his knife away. 

You turn around and step past him, shoulder grazing his stomach. You hop down onto the driveway, yelping as your bare feet land in the thinning layer of snow. He watches with a crease in his brow as you wander sheepishly towards the towering doors of your once safe castle, almost aimless in your direction, you wrap your arms around yourself. Only thirty-odd metres, you’ll be fine in the dry cold for that long. 

He reaches then to pick up the bodybag, heavier than he had anticipated; he tosses it over his shoulder with a sour grunt, and sets out to follow you. Muttering an all clear into his radio as he jumps out onto the snow-coated cement, the helicopter immediately begins its ascent - leaving him here, with you, and all of the corpses of your decommissioned protectors. Not protective enough, were they? He’ll do a better job. 

Hauling your now limp husband, he approaches you. You’ve stopped dead. Within arm’s reach of the door that had been left ajar, you could merely step forward and return to the familiarity of your fortress - yet you are utterly frozen. Staring through the crack into the foyer like you had forgotten where you were going. 

He persists past you, barging open the heavy door and marching into the grand entryway, leaving bootprints in the sprinkling of snow that had blown in through the gap overnight. And he’s confronted immediately by a butchered corpse; one of your guards, whose throat he had slit and who had bled to death not a day earlier. He can see his face in the daylight. Looks young. 

Peering over his shoulder, you are stiff and unmoving. Gazing through his body as though you can see the body behind him. 

“I can’t-” you croak, “I can’t go in.” 

“Fuck’s sake-” He grumbles, adjusting your husband on his shoulder. “It’s your mansion.” 

You aren’t tearful anymore, and it perturbs him; instead you just stand as rigid as stone, wide-eyed and absent. “I can’t go in.” 

“The place is empty,” he says dully, simmering irritation seeming to fluctuate at each breath. A bitter impatience and an uncomfortable pity. “You’ll be fine.” 

“I can’t look at them,” you utter, barely shaking your head. “I don’t want to see them.” 

“What,” he looks back at the cadaver on the tiled floor, “the guards?” 

You grimace at that, pushing the heels of your palms into your shut eyes, as if you might block it out. “They were just boys,” you whisper, a quiet whimper escapes you, Ghost wonders if you had even intended for him to hear it. “Just doing their - their job.” 

He finds himself silently disconcerted. They were just boys, you say. Boys you hired to put their bodies on the line for your safety. Yet there is anguish in your throat - it’s potent, and quivering, and even he is unable to maintain his conviction that you are only performing your guilt. Why do you care? Are you ashamed? Do you blame yourself? He wonders if you’d react the same way, to the knowledge of how many boys doing their job had been slaughtered at your husband’s behest. Would you feel as guilty, then? Or did their deaths serve you better? 

Ghost sucks his teeth. “Weren’t doing a good one, were they,” he remarks richly. Pointlessly cruel. He doesn’t look at you when he says it. 

“You’re proud of yourself,” you mutter, now you are glaring at him. A lour of pity and disgust. 

His victim’s eyes are clouded, its throat open as wide as its mouth; even he can’t deny the gruesomeness of it. He blocks your sight of it where he stands. “Not of this,” he admits with a grim huff. “This is just work.”

You tighten the arms around yourself, trembling in the cold. “You sound like Victor,” you croak. 

Ghost bites down on nothing. Feels his temples throbbing with fury at the accusation, but he finds himself with nothing to say to it. 

“Get inside,” he orders, cutting through the turgid silence. 

You open your mouth to speak, or to breathe, but you do neither. 

“You want the sack back on, do you?” He questions impatiently, reaching into one of his pockets with a free hand to present it to you. 

You hesitate, merely blinking at him. But with a stiff shake of your head, you take a step forward. He moves aside to let you pass, unwittingly maintaining a position that blocks the view of his victim from you. You amble like an android, head locked, facing forward; you follow your nose down the ostentatious foyer. 

“Master bedroom,” he demands dully, as he follows you. You offer no verbal confirmation, but you make your way to your grandiose staircase. 

From behind you he can see the blood drooling down the stairs. Darkened and viscous in the hours since its spill. There’s a body at the top, he remembers, one of your mercenaries who had tried to sneak up on him. That one was met with a knife through the temple. He’d have warned you, but you’ve seen it already. He can hear it in your throat, the whines of anguish and repulsion, your toes inadvertently land in the dark red puddle. 

You sob, struggling to keep your head up, refusing to turn down and look at the corpse you can’t bring yourself to step over. 

“Keep going,” he grunts. 

With a quiet cry you obey, lifting your blood-stained foot and vaulting over your obstacle. Good girl. 

You seem to shrink in the unending hallway, dwarfed by the paintings that are taller than you, by the chandeliers that would crush you if their hangings were to snap. He recognises this hall as the one he had stalked you down. Remembers the vivid fury, the pure indignance that burned in his stomach at the sight of your exorbitant wealth, how shamelessly you flaunted it with your paintings and your wallpaper and your fucking twinkling chandeliers. It looks more grey in the daytime. Labyrinthine channels and empty rooms, lacking light or energy or care. A decorated cage. 

You disappear through the door to your master suite, and in quick but steady pursuit he follows you inside.

The room is bathed in the dull glow of the ashen sky, by virtue of the floor-to-ceiling windows that span two of the four walls. There’s an eeriness to it, untouched since his incursion; your blankets still tossed and crumpled from where Soap had wrestled and detained your husband, the bloody prints left by Ghost’s boots stain your cream carpet. 

They track to where he had found you, in your ensuite - and where you stand now, in the doorframe. You stare into the dark for a moment, wavering, before venturing inside. He decides to let you. Chooses to trust you. 

So he busies himself, carting your weighty husband and dumping him on the carpet at the end of your bed. Apathetically pulls down the zip with a shrill shriek, parting open the sack to unveil the pallid, faceless cadaver within.

The pride he takes in your husband’s fate hasn’t waned. Still relishes in how deserved, how karmic it is, as he yanks the polyester bag out from under the corpse. Leaves it lying haphazardly, face down, black blood smearing and staining the pristine off-white wool beneath it. To make it convincing, he considers, he tugs the glock from where he had tucked it in his vest; tugs back the slide, listlessly aims the barrel at the back of it. Fires three shots - back of the head, neck, shoulder - sending old blood splattering out from the cadaver and splashing everything in its vicinity. Each bullet erupts in thunder through the room, vibrates the glass of your windows, sends shudders across the floor. 

He takes the moment in the subsequent silence to inspect his handiwork; if examined by a coroner it would be clear that these bullet wounds were inflicted post-mortem. But he’s confident that your husband’s company will be quick to dismiss and bury his assassination, once in the grip of his rival - inevitably, Vladimir Makarov. In that man’s eyes, Ghost and his men had done him a favour. Created a power vacuum for him to slither into. He can’t imagine that the cause for that vacuum would be closely investigated. 

Ghost’s head perks, then - hearing your flitting movements as you step out of the ensuite, he spots you. Two strides from him, you stand dead still.  

Your shaky fingers curl around a black pistol - the Beretta, he suddenly remembers - the one you had first drawn on him, and that you had surrendered at his behest. You point it at him intently, holding it up with both hands, he sees your finger grazing the trigger. There’s a glint of challenge in your wide eyes. A curl of unease in your lips.

He doesn’t indulge you with a panic, or a step back, or a raise of his hands - though he does feel the racing in his chest, he is not immune to adrenaline. He merely keeps his eyes on you, minutely turning his body so that he faces you head on. 

He could, if he chose to, lift his own glock and shoot you square in the forehead in the time it takes you to blink. You’re quite bold in your assumption that he can’t, or won’t, kill you before you can even pull the trigger. But he doesn’t want to. Not yet. He keeps his gun tight in his palm but aimed at the floor. 

You didn’t pull the gun on him the last time you had one in your clutches, he considers, but the current circumstances are vastly different. Then, you were lost in the depths of the compound utterly unfamiliar to you, outnumbered by armed and armoured men that would shoot you on sight, or worse. Now, you are back in your domain. You know where to run, how to hide, who to call. Perhaps you are a better liar than he had thought. Perhaps your Soviet co-conspirators never presented any threat to you at all. If that were true, despite his doubt, you surely would shoot him. Try to, anyway. That’s what he would do. 

“Do you know how to use that thing?” He asks stiffly, tightening his fists in stifled frustration. Elects not to antagonise you but refuses to embolden you. You enigmatic little thing, you have left him desperately unable to read you. 

“Yes,” you murmur, but he can taste your reluctance from where he stands. Despite the violence of your world, you seem rather averse to it. Maybe you don’t have it in you. 

He inhales carefully. “If you shoot me, and I don’t die,” he grumbles, “I’ll fucking kill you.” 

“Don’t threaten me,” you challenge mutedly. He sees you raise the handgun just slightly, he can look down the barrel from here. 

“I’m not threatening you,” he goads, voice low. “I’m warning you.” 

You falter, just briefly, sucking down a sharp breath. There’s a twitch in your wrist, your catlike eyes align with the iron sights - and on sudden instinct, Ghost moves to lift the weapon of his own. 

But in that heartbeat you had pulled the trigger; he feels an immediate flash of blisteringly hot air gust past his hand, before an explosive jolt of the gun in his palm sends it flying from his grip. He grunts in shock and spontaneous anger, shaking out his whiplashed hand and glaring at you with a bloodthirsty fury. 

You raise your pistol again, eyes wide, he can feel where you are aiming to fire next - but now he sees only red. 

Before you shoot again, he storms rapidly towards you, immediately reaching for your arm and tossing it upward just as you pull down on the trigger. The eruption of the barrel blasts right by his ear, sending a rogue bullet colliding into the floridly plastered ceiling. The shower of white dust lands on his back as he stampedes you, unfazed - you shriek in dispute as he restrains you, herding you brutally before ramming you into the panelled wall, front-first. He tears the little gun from your grip, before pinning your arms behind your back, leaning into you with his entire weight and wedging you tightly against the wall. 

“Are you fucking stupid?” He growls savagely; his head craned over your shoulder, lips against your soft ear, he feels you wriggle defeatedly beneath him. 

His rage is red-hot and thundering in his temples, he viciously fights the urge to fulfil his warning to you. You shot him. You missed. Or, perhaps, you had aimed near-perfectly, if your goal was to disarm him. 

“Get off me,” you protest through teeth, barely able to use your voice with his crushing weight tightening your ribs. 

With a jolt, he pushes you harder. “Answer me.” 

A pained yelp escapes you as he shoves the air from your lungs, he finds himself unconsciously loosening his grip at the sound. “I saw a chance,” you breathe, “so I took it.” 

“Yeah?” He seethes, letting a hint of amusement slither into his tone. “How many chances do you think you’ll get?” 

“I don’t care. I’ll keep taking them,” you cry, your frightened honesty continues to confound him. 

“If you want, Mia,” he snarls, mouth still to your ear, “I can leave you here. I can leave you here with the bodies of your husband and all your fucking servants. You can clean up the mess, if you want. You can try to get the stains out of the carpet. Then what, huh? You gonna run away into the hills and freeze to death? You gonna call your fucking Russians to come and see the mess you’ve made? You know they’ll have questions, sweetheart. You know they won’t be as gentle as I’ve been.” 

You writhe in protest, and he tightens his grip. 

“Get off,” you groan, again, but he can hear your tenacity fizzling away. More of a plea than a demand. He supposes he’s finally getting what he wanted - for you to fight against him, to challenge him, and to lose hope in the futility of your resistance. He doesn’t find nearly as much satisfaction in it as he had hoped. 

“Is that what you want?” He demands, low and rough, ignoring your supplication. He leaves a second for you to respond, and when you only whimper, he persists. “Is it?” 

“No,” you croak. 

“You sure?” 

A whine slides from your throat. “Yes.” 

“Say it.” 

You draw in a quaking breath, as much air as his confinement will allow. “I don’t want you to leave.” 

He lets out a huff of satisfaction. “Then don’t take any more fucking chances.” 

When you give a cautious and reluctant nod, he finally decides to release you. You stay put, for the moment, with your trembling hand keeping you balanced on the wall. He keeps his glare on you as he pulls the slide entirely off your Beretta, taking it apart completely with a noise of clicks and snaps. 

Fury waning, heartrate steadying, he suppose can’t fault you for your attempt at escape. He knew it was inevitable that you would take it. But he hopes, for your sake, it is your last one. 

“You got a bath?” He questions tensely, as he marches towards the other gun that you had, somehow, shot from his grip. 

“Why,” you mutter leerily. 

“You won’t want to shower.” 

He looks back at you, then, tucking his handgun back into place in his tacvest. You have your arms around yourself, expression bitter and doubtful. 

“What are you talking about.” 

With an ireful sniff, he nods towards your ensuite door. “Go on. See how it makes you feel.” 

You dubiously shuffle into your bathroom, and he meanders over to lean in the doorframe. He’s going to watch you like a hawk for the foreseeable future. Your own fault, little thing. He no longer trusts your judgement. 

He spectates as you open the towering, shimmering glass of your shower door, reaching in and tugging on the lever to turn on the water. It cascades loudly out of the golden rainfall showerhead, splashing over the pearlescent tiles and spitting outwards onto the glass in a mist. Little stray droplets touch your skin, land on the tiles outside the shower, leave dark spots on the black sweatshirt he had given you. 

You reach a shaky palm towards the stream of water, holding it under the fall for just a moment; before you vacuum in a rigid breath and immediately tug back your hand, shutting off the lever with a slam. You whine, and sniff, as you wipe your wet hand on the fabric of your sweatshirt. 

“I couldn’t shower for a month the first time,” Ghost comments frankly, coarsely, his arms crossed as he leans against the white painted jamb of the door. Unsure why he admitted such a thing.

“You-” You hesitate, he sees your dark eyes well. “You’ve been waterboarded before?” 

You utter it doubtfully, yet accusingly. He grits his teeth, then nods succinctly. 

More than once, in actual fact - the first time a mandatory exercise as part of his special forces training, the next few far less quotidian, left far deeper scars. He swallows at the thought. Chooses not to entertain the memory as he feels his throat begin to close. 

“So you know what it feels like,” you chide weakly. 

“I do,” he says. 

Wiping your cheek with the sleeve of the sweatshirt, you glower at him. “Then why do you do it to other people.” 

“Because it works.” 

“Did it work on you?” You seethe. 

He bitterly begrudges your interrogation. Because the more you dig, the more he remembers. He remembers that they started with cold water, the cubes of ice that would land sharp and hard over his face - and that they then moved to hot water, not quite hot enough to cook his skin, but hot enough to emulate the searing pain of it. He remembers the burning ache in his lungs as they failed to suck down any air, only droplets of water and his own frothy saliva. He remembers thinking he had died, almost welcoming the release it would bring him; only to be painfully reawakened once they refilled the bucket and started the onslaught over again. 

“It did,” he murmurs, breaking the ugly silence of his reverie. 

You seem to soften at that, scowl loosening as you keep your stare hitched on him. Did you think he was merely an agent of suffering, little thing? Did you ever consider what kind of pain would have been necessary to turn him into one? 

“It was preferable to Graves’s idea,” he confesses hoarsely, though he immediately questions why he felt the need to offer any kind of justification. 

Drawing in a shivering breath, you look at the marble tiles under your toes. “The commander,” you utter. 

Attentive bird, aren’t you. “Mh,” he confirms. 

“What was his idea.” 

Ghost runs his tongue along his teeth, can’t help his eye from catching on the swollen bruise on your cheekbone, on the split in your lip, on the welt on your temple. “You don’t need to know that.” 

He watches your face as your lip begins to quiver, brows crumpling, eyes grow glassy with brimming tears; you look away from him as if to hide it. Can’t explain the swell of viscous guilt that churns in his stomach at the sight. 

“Draw a bath,” he abruptly orders, sniffing and adjusting his mask over his nose. “You’ll need to look like you haven’t left the building.” 

You nod, rubbing the sleeves of your sweatshirt into your eyes. “Fine.” 

Your mind is frayed. 

Your heart is tired, but somehow, still beating.  

Your instinct to retaliate had reared its head, only briefly - little rationalisation had occurred when you had spotted that Beretta on the floor of your bathroom. Once it was in your hands, your impulse had flooded you swiftly, hot and blinding. 

And you relished in it, while it lasted. Watching him freeze in place, witnessing him hesitate and walk over eggshells to avoid your pull of the trigger. Fantasising, for a brief moment, that you might let loose the bullet that would end him - that you could watch him die right there in the room he had taken you from, and that no consequences would come of it. Just that fleeting illusion seemed enough, at least temporarily, to bolster your spirit. You still had it in you. You could have outsmarted him, if you tried. 

But some small part of you is glad, now, that Riley had foiled you. Because you can’t fathom being left alone here -  surrounded by so many corpses, as he had reminded you, stuck in the same room as the bloated cadaver of your husband. You could call certain people for help, once the Lieutenant was dead or gone - if he would have gone as he threatened - they may have come to collect you, and maybe they would have believed whatever story you would have spun for them. 

But, you know how sorely unlikely that would be. How certain a death that path would lead to. 

The English soldier is frightening, and dangerous, and unpredictable - but at least, grudgingly, there is a glimmer of hope in the path he offers you. A dim guidelight in an otherwise black, echoing, endless tunnel. He makes his threats but he does not enact them. He restrains you but he does not hurt you. 

Not yet, you suppose - you do your utter best not to let the gorey images of the sentries he slaughtered flash into sight. You hadn’t considered how many there were. How many more there might be, spread about your mansion, or elsewhere in the grounds of your estate. At least, in your bedroom, you can’t smell the blood. But that was always the case, wasn’t it? 

How many houses, how many buildings, how many cities had been left like this in the wake of Victor’s campaigns? How many more bodies had been strewn through hallways and streets? How much more blood had been spilt? You’ve been willfully ignorant, blissfully so. Just as your hunter had so venomously shamed you for. 

There’s a wound in him, though. You can see it, despite his efforts to keep it obscured. You wonder how many more he might be hiding. 

He remains looming in the door of your ensuite as you lean over the clawfoot bathtub, sticking the rubber plug into the drain, and twisting the brass knobs. You try to hold a hesitant finger in the water, but you can barely keep it under the stream for even a second; feeling the splashes spray over your skin; scarcely long enough to know that the water will be hot enough. 

Whatever they had done to your mind seemed to you as indelible. A tattoo of suffering needled directly into the glossy, wet tissue of your brain. But there’s a strange, sick comfort in the knowledge that this man might know what it feels like. He might be able to understand what you are going through, even if he doesn’t care how it hurts you. Might you end up like him? 

Once the tub is full, you hastily lean over and twist shut the faucets, the steam billowing from the water lapping at your arm. You glance at him, then, and he still watches you scrutinisingly. When your brows knit doubtfully at him, he flicks his head in the direction of the tub. 

“Hurry up,” he nudges impatiently, spectating aloofly from behind his painted balaclava. “The longer we take, the less likely your friends will believe anything you say.” 

You curl your lips in distaste. “What, are you going to watch?” 

“You think I’m going to let you out of sight after what you just pulled?” He questions severely. 

Glaring at him warily, you stifle the urge to lash out at him. “Are you scared of me?” 

He chuffs, then, evidently amused; his shoulders jolt with a single huff of laughter. Doesn’t even entertain your attempts to outwit him for even a moment. The fucker. “Stop wasting time.” 

“Are you?” You pester, seeking now only to badger him out of the room. You yearn to be alone, if only for five minutes. 

You can see his eyes crease in their corners, his cheeks shift under his knitted mask. He’s smiling at you. “Do you want me to be scared of you?” 

You cross your arms demurely. “I want you to leave me alone.” 

“Not gonna happen.” 

“You’re disgusting,” you seethe.

Unfazed by your insult, he says nothing in his defence. “Get in the bath.” 

“You just want to watch me strip.” 

He rolls his eyes, you hear him lick his teeth. “Seen plenty of it already.” 

“You’re a pig,” you spit.

He grunts in exasperation, you wonder hopefully if he might simply back down and step out of the room. But, no, he stays obstinately put - so intent on staying, in fact, that he crosses one boot over the other, leaning his shoulder comfortably against the doorframe. 

“You’re not exactly the fuckin’ Virgin Mary, are you?” 

You feel your heart thundering in frustration, frenetic and quick to flare. “Fuck you.” 

He stands straight, then, and you feel yourself begin to shrink. “If I wanted you naked, I’d have left you naked,” he sneers, reminding you acrimoniously of his earlier favour. “You can wash yourself with the sweatshirt on, for all I care, just get in the fucking tub.” 

In honesty, you don’t hold your nudity particularly sacred. You didn’t have that luxury, in your lines of work - and by this point, it’s habit, whether you like it or not. Really, you just wanted him out of sight and mind for even a brief moment, long enough to catch your breath, to enjoy the silence - to pretend none of it had ever happened, and you had just simply had a nightmare before getting in the bath that evening.

But he is as obdurate as he is unperturbed, he stays firmly planted in the door. 

So you grip the hem of the thick black sweatshirt, tearing it upwards and off you in a single, hasty motion; your skin pricks and shivers near instantly upon its renewed exposure. You hurl the sweater at him spitefully, throwing it in a ball as hard as your arm could muster. It hits him in the chest with a thump, and while he seems briefly taken aback, he otherwise absorbs the blow.

Despite his efforts to seem utterly uninterested in your nakedness, his lidded eyes betray him. As they always do, for all the beasts of his kind. Though they take only a cursory glance, raking briefly from your eyes and downwards, back again. 

Not indulging him any longer, you lift your leg and step into the tub - dipping your toe into the water, you find it is only lukewarm. Groaning in defeated frustration, you reluctantly set both feet into the bath and lower yourself, sinking into the aquamarine water with a bitter sigh. You want eagerly to submerge your head under the surface. To relish in the dull, throbbing silence, to  pretend you are still in the womb of a mother different to your own. Maybe you could start from scratch, if you held your breath for long enough. 

But simply the thought of the water touching your face sends a surge of panic erupting from your heart - even the warm surface of it lapping at your neck makes a flush of anxiety scrape down your spine. You sincerely hope that the bath, though barely warm and vaguely triggering, might eventually relax you, even slightly. That washing off the filth and pain might make you feel better. But you feel the need to distract yourself, to stop your skin from crawling in the wetness - you take a pump of soap from the bottle of rose and jasmine bodywash, sat on the single floating shelf next to the tub, and rub it gently into your arms. The smell is a small comfort.

“I wasn’t going to shoot you,” you mutter absently, eager to fill the silence - you now find, while half-submerged, that being truly alone might send you into a panic attack, irrespective of your scorned company. You do your best to maintain an apathetic candour in your voice, but the agitation squeaks through despite your effort. 

“You did,” he argues tersely, tilting his head. 

“No - I mean, I wasn’t going to kill you.” 

He snorts, as though challenging the idea that you could have if you tried. “No?” 

You shake your head, keeping your eyes on your body as it ripples under the water; you grab another pump of soap. “I just…” you think aloud, lifting your knee out of the water and massaging the soap into your skin. “I wanted to feel brave. I just wanted some - some control over something. Just once.” 

While you question your needless, over-divulging honesty, there’s something rewarding in letting someone be privy to your innermost thoughts. You couldn’t share anything with Victor, not anything honest, anyway - and you wouldn’t dare to share with any of his compatriots, or any clients from your past life. Not your maids, or your cooks, or your mercenaries. Not even the women you considered ‘friends’, the wives of your husband’s co-conspirators - lest they turncoat and share every secret of yours with their own husbands. Everything you might have uttered would have made its way back to you. Would have returned to violently hurt you. 

Being welded shut, intently, is what you have been for the better part of your life - but, grotesquely, nothing you tell this man could make your situation worse. Would be heard by people that you don’t want it heard by. What does he care of your thoughts, anyway? What use are they to him? You may as well utter them to a brick wall, but at least now you know somebody is hearing them. 

When you flit your eyes to look at him, his stare is vacant. 

Maybe he overestimated you. Assumed that you could puppeteer everybody in your life, that you could whisper demands in your husband's ear, and that he’d obey if the words slid out seductively enough. Maybe he knows now how wrong he was. 

He draws in a tense breath, and releases it in a pained sigh. With a grumble, he chides; “You’re too brave for your own good.”

[allthemurders]

Walter Sullivan’s car

I spent literally four hours researching this for a throwaway line in a fic which doesn’t even apply anymore. Please appreciate my nerdiness so this doesn’t go entirely to waste 😭😭

This is Walter Sullivan’s car — a 1954 Jaguar XK120 Drophead Coupé (DHC), Special Equipment (SE) version.

These were manufactured in 1953–1954. Only 295 right-hand drive versions of the XK120 DHC were made, with less than 40 right-hand drive SE versions

The DHC SE was basically the “sport version” of the DHC. It had a 3.4 litre engine which produced 180–190 bhp, up from the regular DHC’s 160 bhp. I’m uncertain about its top speed, but the Open Two-Seater (OTS) model on which the DHC was based had a reported top speed of 125 mph, and could achieve 0–60 mph in 10 seconds. This made it the fastest production car in the world as of its debut in 1949, a title it seems to have carried until 1953

The DHC SE version had the following improvements on the DHC:

Wire wheels, meaning increased cooling to the brakes

Uprated torsion bars & rear springs

More powerful engine with high-lift cams

Dual exhaust system (this one was possibly an optional extra on top of the usual SE offerings?? Basically I found some sites that say the DHC SE had a single exhaust, except in the entirely unexplained “Super Sports model”… but also that might just be a difference between UK & US models, idk)

I wasn’t able to find information on original prices for the DHC SE, but you could probably make a rough estimate based on the following:

Apparently the OTS cost £1600 in 1953. (For context, the average house price was £1800 and the average salary was £10 a week)

The DHC probably would’ve cost more than the OTS, as it came with additional comforts such as a lined roof, external door handles, roll-up windows, opening quarter lights, and wood-veneered dashboards & door-caps

The DHC SE would’ve cost more than the regular DHC due to its further additional features and more powerful engine

Walter’s car in particular also has optional extras of Lucas fog lights and a Radiomobile car radio. It possibly also has (unseen) optional extras of a larger fuel tank and/or an underbody steel shield

Of course, after I’d spent literally four hours researching this (most of which was spent struggling to figure out if it actually was an SE version, or if it was just a regular DHC with some optional extras), I finally came up with the much simpler and easier idea of just. googling the car model + “hire”. Which immediately brought up the hire website for the exact car used in the show:

Although it doesn’t specifically say it’s the SE version, the 180 hp is a clear indication. Why did I not think to do this like three and a half hours sooner,,,,

Also put the registration plate through the DVLA checker to get the 1954 manufacture date! Apparently it was first registered in July 1954, if you want to be particularly specific

Anyways. TL;DR: Walter Sullivan’s car is only like a year old; it’s fast, fancy, and super rare… and most of all, it’s ridiculously expensive

[cosmicanger]

June Crespo; Back of the Tongue, 2022, Steel cast and fabric, 90 × 100 × 83 cm & Vascular (5), 2024, Curved checker steel plate and rug, 150 × 300 × 293 cm

[chhajedalloys]

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[meghmanimetal]

Supplier of Industrial Valve in Tamil Nadu

Meghmani Metal: Meghmani Metal is an ISO 9001:2015 certified supplier of industrial valves based in Tamil Nadu, India. The company offers a diverse range of stainless steel products, including steel flanges, SS fasteners, steel butt welding, steel pipe fittings, steel rods, wires, coils, and flats. Meghmani Metal crafts industrial valves from various material grades, including stainless steel and high nickel alloys. Their warehouse stocks a variety of valves such as ball valves, gate valves, control valves, needle valves, globe valves, butterfly valves, check valves, safety valves, and more.   Specifications: Standard: ASTM A240, JIS4304-2005, ASTM A167, EN10088-2-2005, GB/T3280-2007, etc. Specifications: ASTM A240 / ASME SA240 Sizes: Ranging from 1000mm x 2000mm, 1220mm x 2440mm, 4′ x 8′, 1250mm x 2500mm, 1500mm x 3000mm to 6000mm, and 2000mm x 4000mm to 6000mm. Length: Options include 2000mm, 2440mm, 3000mm, 5800mm, 6000mm, etc. Thickness: Varying from 0.3mm to 100mm. Range: Extending from 5mm to 150mm.   Surface Finishes: Various surface finishes are available, including hot rolled plate (HR), cold rolled sheet (CR), 2B, 2D, BA, NO.1, NO.4, NO.8, 8K, mirror, checkered, embossed, hairline, sandblast, brush, etching, SATIN (met with plastic coated), and more.   Service Coverage: Meghmani Metal serves as a prominent supplier of industrial valves in Tamil Nadu, covering areas such as Arcot, Chengalpattu, Chennai, Chidambaram, Coimbatore, Cuddalore, Dharmapuri, Dindigul, Erode, Kanchipuram, Kanniyakumari, Kodaikanal, Kumbakonam, Madurai, Mamallapuram, Nagappattinam, Nagercoil, Palayamkottai, Pudukkottai, Rajapalayam, Ramanathapuram, Salem, Thanjavur, Tiruchchirappalli, Tirunelveli, Tiruppur, Thoothukudi, Udhagamandalam, and Vellore.   For further inquiries and information, interested parties are encouraged to contact Meghmani Metal. Read the full article

[padmavatisteel]

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[ratan0706]

The Role of Galvanizing in Achieving Sustainable Construction ?

In today’s world, where safety, reliability, and durability are paramount, hot-dip galvanized earthing flats emerge as an indispensable component in ensuring the safety of electrical systems and infrastructure. From industrial setups to residential complexes, these galvanized components are designed to offer optimal performance, corrosion resistance, and an extended lifespan.

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Hot-dip galvanized earthing flats, also known as earthing GI strips or earthing patti, are flat steel components coated with a protective layer of zinc through the hot-dip galvanization process. The hot-dip galvanization process ensures that the steel is resistant to environmental factors such as moisture, heat, and chemicals, making it ideal for electrical grounding and earthing systems.

The earthing system plays a critical role in protecting electrical installations by providing a safe path for excess electrical energy to safely drain into the ground. Use of galvanized components such as galvanized beams, galvanized steel beams, and galvanized c channels ensures that these systems are durable and efficient.

Benefits of Hot-Dip Galvanizing for Earthing Flats

The hot-dip galvanization process provides various benefits for earthing flats, including:

1. Corrosion Resistance

One of the most significant advantages of hot-dip galvanizing is its ability to resist corrosion. The zinc coating acts as a barrier, protecting the underlying steel from rust, even in harsh environmental conditions. This ensures the galvanized steel grating and earthing flats maintain their integrity for decades.

2. Cost-Effectiveness

Although the initial investment for hot-dip galvanized products may be more compared to non-galvanized options, reduced maintenance and replacement costs make them a cost-effective solution in the long run.

Steel and zinc have a high recycling rate. Once galvanized iron or steel has served its lifetime, it can be collected, melted, and then reused. This makes such construction projects an eco-friendly method.

3. Safety

Hot-dip galvanized steel has a life expectancy greater than 50 years within any environment, making it fit to be used for integral structural components of stainless-steel cable trays and earthing systems.

Uses of Galvanized Earthing Flats

Galvanized earthing flats are one of the most versatile and commonly utilised products in many industries with wide applications, including:

1. Industrial Plants

Factories and processing plants require reliable earthing systems to protect the machinery and personnel. In addition to earthing flats, there are components such as galvanized c channels and chequered plates that are applied to ensure an all-rounded safety solution.

2. Power Transmission

Power generation and distribution requires reliable earthing systems to avoid faults and guarantee smooth running. Galvanized steel beams and earthing flats are the pillars of these systems.

3. Renewable Energy Systems

Solar farms and wind turbines necessitate efficient grounding systems to protect against lightning or electrical surges. Stainless steel cable trays and galvanized checker plates along with earthing GI strips enhance the durability of these systems.

4. Infrastructure Projects

Large construction projects involving bridges and buildings make use of hot-dip galvanized earthing components for safety and structural stability.

Hot-Dip Galvanized Earthing Flats’ Contribution to Sustainability

Sustainability is one of the growing concerns in modern construction and manufacturing. Hot-dip galvanization is an eco-friendly process that supports sustainable practices in the following ways:

1. Recyclability

Galvanized steel, including chequered plates and earthing strips, is 100% recyclable, which reduces waste and conserves resources.

2. Reduced Maintenance

The long life of galvanized products means less frequent replacement, saving resources and energy in the manufacturing process.

3. Energy Efficiency

Hot-dip galvanized earthing flats reduce the probability of system failures, thus avoiding downtime and saving energy in industrial processes.

Comparison with Other Coating Methods

Hot-dip galvanization is compared to other coating methods, for example, paint or electroplating, on the following grounds:

1. Durable

Paint may only offer a temporary protective covering, but it is not as durable as that of a galvanized zinc coating, especially in demanding environments.

2. Thorough Coverage

The galvanization process ensures full coverage of the steel surface, including corners and edges, which are often missed by other coating methods.

3. Low Maintenance

Unlike paint, which may require frequent touch-ups, the galvanized coating remains intact for decades, offering superior performance with minimal upkeep.

Why Choose Parco Engineers?

At Parco Engineers, we are committed to meeting the highest industry standards, and our hot-dip galvanized products are of good quality. Our product categories include galvanized steel beams, galvanized steel gratings, and checkered plates, all designed for safety, durability, and performance.

1. Galvanization Expertise

With years of experience and expertise, Parco Engineers mastered the art of galvanization, providing good quality products which are long-lasting.

2. Extensive Product Line

From stainless steel cable trays to galvanized c channels, we provide a wide variety of products to suit different applications.

3. Sustainability

Through our practice of sustainable manufacturing, we are contributing to a greener future while still producing top-quality products.

Galvanized earthing flats, a part of the modern system used for safety, efficiency, and durability, are indeed widely used in many other areas like power transmission or renewable energy. Hot-dip galvanized earthing components from Parco Engineers have the right durability and are cost-effective, sustainable products that can serve your purposes. Depend on Parco Engineers for innovative products that would pass the test of time and assure the safety and efficiency of your systems.

[laxmienterprise]

Why Use MS Chequered Plates for the Construction of Your Home?

Do you know What to Use MS Chequered Plates & Applications? Here, Laxmi Enterprise offers all details need to know, and also have MS steel product in Vadodara, like MS bars, MS channel, MS TMT bars, etc. Order best quality MS Chequered Plates at Laxmi Enterprise. Visit our blog for more information!

[heroic-endeavors]

Muse Aesthetics.

Repost and then Bold any which apply to your muse! Feel free to add to the list!

[ COLORS ] red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green. warm. cool.

[ ELEMENTS ] fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. dewdrops.

[ BODY ] claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. wounds. burns. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. normal height. muscular. slender. trained. piercing. tattoos. strong. weak.

[ WEAPONS ] fists. sword. dagger. spear. scythe. bow and arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. words. books. household objects. sickles.

[ MATERIALS ] gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. opal. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics.

[ NATURE ] grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. lilies. lavender. petals. thorns. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. roots. flowers. ocean. river. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rainforest. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains. valley.

[ ANIMALS ] lions. tigers. wolves. black panther. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. sheep. cows. pigs. chickens. songbirds. bugs. spiders. butterflies. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. praying mantises. crows. ravens. mice. lizards. werewolves. unicorns. pegasi. dragons. boars. bats. bears.

[ FOODS/DRINKS ] sugar. salt. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. beer. ale. mead. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. peach. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. ambrosia. bread. chicken.

[ HOBBIES ] music. art. watercolors. gardening. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. fencing. riding. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self-defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books. magazines. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. cello. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. trumpet. flute. drums. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. checkers. board games. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. drinking. climbing. running. walking. whistling.

[ STYLE ] lingerie. armor. cape. dress. suit. tunic. vest. shirt. boots. sandals. heels. leggings. trousers. jeans. skirt. shorts. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. neck tie. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. sash. coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. suspenders. masks. cowls. braces. tie clips. watches. glasses. sunglasses. backpack. visor. eye contacts. makeup. sweater. sweatpants.

[ MISC ] balloons. bubbles. cityscape. landscape. light. dark. candles. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. loneliness. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. enemies. loyalty. smoking. drugs. kindness. love. hugs. stuffed animals.

Tagged By: @sixtymillionoverdueideas ?? Got a notification but didn't see my username in the post? Tagging: Err... just take this from me?

[sixtymillionoverdueideas]

Muse Aesthetics.

Repost and then Bold any which apply to your muse! Feel free to add to the list!

[ COLORS ] red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green. warm. cool.

[ ELEMENTS ] fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. dewdrops.

[ BODY ] claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. wounds. burns. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. normal height. muscular. slender. trained. piercing. tattoos. strong. weak.

[ WEAPONS ] fists. sword. dagger. spear. scythe. bow and arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. words. books. household objects. sickles.

[ MATERIALS ] gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. opal. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics.

[ NATURE ] grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. lilies. lavender. petals. thorns. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. roots. flowers. ocean. river. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rainforest. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains. valley.

[ ANIMALS ] lions. tigers. wolves. black panther. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. sheep. cows. pigs. chickens. songbirds. bugs. spiders. butterflies. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. praying mantises. crows. ravens. mice. lizards. werewolves. unicorns. pegasi. dragons. boars. bats. bears.

[ FOODS/DRINKS ] sugar. salt. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. beer. ale. mead. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. peach. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. ambrosia. bread. chicken.

[ HOBBIES ] music. art. watercolors. gardening. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. fencing. riding. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self-defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books. magazines. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. cello. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. trumpet. flute. drums. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. checkers. board games. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. drinking. climbing. running. walking. whistling.

[ STYLE ] lingerie. armor. cape. dress. suit. tunic. vest. shirt. boots. sandals. heels. leggings. trousers. jeans. skirt. shorts. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. neck tie. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. sash. coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. suspenders. masks. cowls. braces. tie clips. watches. glasses. sunglasses. backpack. visor. eye contacts. makeup. sweater. sweatpants.

[ MISC ] balloons. bubbles. cityscape. landscape. light. dark. candles. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. loneliness. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. enemies. loyalty. smoking. drugs. kindness. love. hugs. stuffed animals.

Sourced from:  Tagging: @dadzxwa, @nearriver, any and all welcome to join~;;; 

[lilena]

hot rolled steel coil

hot rolled embossed/checkered/checquered steel coil/plate

diamond plate

0.8-20mm thickness

width 1000/1219/1220/1250/1500mm

tear drop

coil weight: 10ton-30ton

whatspp & wechat : 8618363561850

[atplblog]

Price: [price_with_discount] (as of [price_update_date] - Details) [ad_1] Wheel Stand Height Adjustable for Logitech G25, G27, G29, G920 This Brand New steering wheel stand is a perfect solution for those who wants to mount their wheel and pedals onto an ergonomic racing position, but doesn't have the space for a full size racing cockpit and needs a storage option. This unit folds up fast and reduces to a surprisingly small size making it a real option for users that have limited floor space and storage room. This wheel stand is very solid and will last many years of hard use. The rubber feet combined with the steel tubes make for a smooth driving experience. This wheel stand features a twin spar design, this design offers greater rigidity and an improved access to the pedals themselves for ‘Heel n Toe’ driving. It is used in any applicable situation, from driving with an office chair to dining table chairs and even a sofa! The large tube at the back of the bottom rails can be quickly adjusted in or out to fit the tallest and the shortest of gamers. The pedal plate angle is a good compromise, able to feel comfortable even when driving from very low or high seats. Features: - Dual arm support for rock solid stability (no uncomfortable/annoying pole between your legs) - Fully adjustable steering wheel height - Pedals are situated at a realistic inclined angle and the pedal plate is also fully adjustable to to have your pedals closer or further from you - Perfect and realistic gear shifter position - Rubber protectors for stability as well as protecting your floor - Checker Plated pedal plate - Folds away in less than 5 seconds, easy 1-step action! Specifications Material: Steel Color: Black Base size: 22.5"x19.5"/57x49cm(Lx W) Height adjustment of wheel stand: 22"-30"/56-78cm Please note: Wheel, Shifter and Pedals NOT included. MATERIAL：The racing wheel stand features the X frame design,made of carbon steel and are durable and resistant to damage,this bracket has a smooth surface,which is not easy to rust and fade,the most important is easy to clean. ADJUSTABLE& STABLE：The height and side width of the stand can be adjusted to meet the different needs of different players. The angle of the pedal is adjustable, you can find the most comfortable angle.There are 4 rubber feet at the bottom of the stand, which can bring players a more stable and safe gaming experience. FOLDABLE & COMPACT: After enjoying the game, you can easily fold this steering wheel stand and store anywhere in your home without consuming more space. The compact design allows you to also carry it anywhere to keep your gaming enthusiasm with you. COMPATIBILITY:This steering wheel stand is suitable for Logitech G25, G27, G920, G29,Thrustmaster Tx 458, T500 RS, T300RS, T300 Ferrari.The gaming stand is designed to enhance your simulation gaming experience while playing sim racing games in any situation Warranty :If the product is damaged or lost in transportation, please contact us and we will provide you with solutions. NOTICE:Wheel and Pedals are Not Included. [ad_2]