#vulcanite

[vin-ill]

Fuck it, Masks: a New Generation NPC art dump! Guess which ones are heroes and which ones are villains >:)

Fourth Wall

Phosphor | Vulcanite

OverView

[gaytobymeres]

My cameras unintentionally match :)

[omgthatdress]

Vulcanite

In 1844, Charles Goodyear and Thomas Hancock both patented the vulcanization process for rubber, Goodyear in America and Hancock in England.

Using heat and the addition of sulfur, vulcanization made rubber much stronger and less brittle, as well as removing its tendency to get sticky in high heat.

With additional heat and sulfur, vulcanized rubber turned into a hard plastic called vulcanite.

1stdibs.com

Ruby Lane

[catilinas]

going to bed now but. mudlarking haul. idk why my camera was blurry :( epic wins are partial pipe bowl moulded to look like an acorn / cute leaf / vulcanite bottle stopper

[lickthecowhappy]

Ineffable Prompt-a-thon - Overheated

Ineffable Prompt-a-thon Repository | Main Poetry List

mercury screaming over vulcanite ashes  heart breathing fire from Odegra’s flashes horsepower nightmare

This poem is also available on AO3. @ineffablyruined

[angronsjewelbeetle]

You can decide whether this is "what they'd gift you" or just me being weird and associating pretty rocks with pretty men.

Primarchs Rock! ~♡

Uhhh....rocks rock!

Angron: Garnet and Carnelian

Mortarion: Boulder Opal and Green Aventurine

Fulgrim: Lilac Kunzite and Sugilite w/ Richterite

Ferrus: Diamond and Ametrine

Sanguinius: Haematite and Feather Pyrite (yes I do think I'm clever 😌)

Corvus: Jet and Pink Petalite

Konrad: Rainbow Obsidian (not aura) and Black Sapphire

Lion: Eilat Stone and Morganite

Rogal: Septarian and Gold Rutilated Quartz

Vulkan: Zebra Stone and Rhodochrosite (I did nearly go with Vulcanite but yk. Hot pink. heheh)

Horus: Leopardskin Serpentine and Bloodstone

Magnus: Ruby and Smoky Quartz

Guilliman: Blue Topaz and Lapis Lazuli

Alpharius: Blue Goldstone and Malachite

Omegon: Opalite and Cobalto Calcite

Lorgar: Sunstone and White Jade

Jaghatai: Tiger’s Eye and Celestite

Perturabo: Larimar and Blue Tourmaline

Leman: Labradorite and Charoite

[roses--and--rue]

This enormous Victorian vulcanite cross is one of the nicest pieces of jewelry I’ve had in the shop.  Is it a mourning jewel? Maybe: 

Just because a piece of Victorian clothing or jewelry is black does NOT mean it was worn during mourning. Then, as now, people wore cross shaped jewelry & the color black all the time. That said, vulcanite was also a popular material for mourning jewelry as it offered a less expensive alternative to carved jet. This would be suitable jewel to wear, especially during a later stage of mourning when more elaborate embellishments were permissable.

[voregeoise]

A Hunger (prototype)

Happy vore day my fellow freaks(affectionate)! I made this for ya! It started off as just experimenting with tropes I hadn't messed with before.There should be another tale out today that's far less angsty. In the meantime, enjoy this longer tale!

(Posting this draft rn, just ignore that last part)

His name was Vall. He was a Vulcanite.

Compared to his human roommate he was an odd being. Tall, two sets of arms, a pair of antennae and golden eyes. The majority of his body was almost always cloaked by wing-like extremities that were covered in a dense layer of white fur, leaving only his head with its grey keratin shell poking out the top. They were thought to once have been used to scare predators away and look less threatening on the fly. To extend them to reveal multiple limbs and appear larger. Or keep them closed to look more amiable to friends and allies. His kind were also intelligent. It was their knowledge and technological prowess that took them and humans to the local moons of their world so quickly.

But most interesting of all was their ability to halt most bodily processes. They could stop beating their heart for up to five minutes, hold their breath for almost an hour, stop digestion at a moment's notice and halt most brain activity for several minutes. It's assumed these powers evolved to avoid detection from predators thousands of years ago, and simply stuck around even after they stopped being useful.

His human roommate was a nice fellow. He was a private man, he kept to himself, sometimes to his detriment. But he liked him. He was the only person he really connected with, he was nervous around other people. He was a very close friend. A little under six feet tall, tiny compared to him who stood just over fourteen feet tall. He worked at the same job as him, at an aerospace engineering firm. They had met years ago. And now shared they a home together. Their lives were good. Everything was fine, that was until he started having episodes.

He was sleeping when it first happened. He was awoken by an agonizing, gnawing hunger. It felt like had had been starved for weeks. He had eaten only a few hours ago. Why did he feel so hungry? It hurt terribly. He winced and groaned in agony. He tried not to cry, but the pain made in difficult to keep himself together. Thankfully this racket managed to wake his friend.

"Are you okay?"

"No! Fuck, that hurts. I need you to get me something to eat. Grab as much as you can hold and bring it to me!"

"What do you want?"

"I don't care damnit! I said to get me something to eat! Grab any-"

His yelling was cut off by him collapsing to the ground from a sudden intensification of the pain. He clutched his middle, writhing in agony. He heard his roommate run downstairs to the kitchen. A minute later he heard the door open and in walked his friend with as much food as he could carry. He picked himself up and made a beeline strait for him.

He snatched it out of his hands and scarfed it down. In only a minute or two he ate enough food to last him a few days. He didn't even chew. He couldn't wait that long, he needed to pain gone now.

When he finished eating he collected himself. What just happened? Why was he so hungry? What was wrong with him? He turned to his friend, he had a shocked look on his face. There was an awkward silence before either spoke.

"A-Are you okay?"

"No?"

"What happened?"

"I don't know! I just felt like I was starving."

"What do we do?"

"I-I think we should go to the hospital."

A speedy trip to the doctor gave few answers. They figured out that he wasn't actually starving, his brain just thought he was. They had no answer for why this happened, the only idea that they had was that it may have been a mental breakdown. But that didn't make sense, he was mentally well, happy and wasn't stressed. But that was their only idea. They didn't know what possibly could have happened. They could only hope it was one off.

It wasn't.

-------

Two months later it happened again. He was sprawled out on the couch a few feet from his friend. He was scrolling through social media when suddenly it struck. A stabbing pain, far, far worse then last time. It felt like hell. Thankfully his friend knew what was happening. Just like last time he ran to go grab something for him to eat. And just like last time he scarfed it down in only a minute. But it wasn't enough, he still felt like he was starving. The food barely numbed the pain enough for him to get up and run to the fridge himself. His roommate looked on in horror as he tore through everything in there.

--------

It was late. And they were out of food. They had had guests over last night. His roommate was supposed to go to the store but everything was closed. He'd go in the morning. But there was a little nervousness between them. It had been two months since the last episode. They were on borrowed time, but they only had to make it through the night. Surely they would be fine, right? What were the odds that an episode started tonight? Well, worryingly likely. They weren't sure he could make it through the night if one struck tonight. They just had to hope. But luck wasn't on their side tonight.

They were so close too. It struck early in the day, the sun wasn't even up yet. An agonized scream woke them up. They both instantly knew what was happening.

"Oh, oh no. Vall, there's nothing for you. It'll be thirty minutes until the stores open and it'll take another thirty minutes until I can bring your food home. Can you last an hour?"

"A-An hour?! I-I can't do that! There's got to be something! Anything!"

"We both know that there's no food. I can get you some painkillers if you think that might help."

Painkillers helped, but they didn't fix it. It was like putting a band-aid on a broken bone. He sat there for a few minutes, groaning in pain. Every second that passed he became more and more desperate. There had to be something! He could eat the houseplants, maybe he could take some food from the neighbors or he could eat hi-

He stopped that thought before it could finish. He could never. Eat him? He'd never do that, no matter how much it hurt. He wasn't a meal, he was a friend! How could he even dare think such a thing! That was too far.

A sudden increase in pain forced him to reconsider, or at least think about it.

Well, maybe he could? He'd be fine, right? He was probably big enough to get him down without hurting him. He wouldn't digest, he could stop his digestion process at will! He didn't need to digest him! His brain was lying to him! He just needed to eat something, anything. To hold him over until the stores opened and he could get some real food. Get something in his stomach. But to eat him?! He couldn't! He wouldn't!

But he was just so, so, hungry. He had to eat. He couldn't wait an hour. He wasn't sure if he could wait another minute. But did that really mean eating his best friend alive? He knew he shouldn't, but the agony in his middle was a good argument that maybe it wasn't the worst idea.

He turned to him, he was pacing the room. Just looking at him he felt hungrier. He looked so, appetizing. No, he tried to force those thoughts out of his mind. What was wrong with him? He felt shame flow through him, before it was drowned out by pain. He had to eat something. But this? Could he really bring himself to eat his friend? He'd known him for years, he was his only real friend! Could he really treat him like a meal? His conflictions were silenced by a gruesome agony. He had to, to make the pain go away.

He stood, it hurt worse then he could imagine. His friend seemed shocked that he could even bring himself to stand.

"Vall? What are you doing?"

He stepped towards him. He felt tears welling in his eyes. He didn't want to this, b-but it wouldn't hurt him right? H-He'd be f-fine in there. He slowly parted his cloak revealing two of his arms. He reached out for him and grabbed his shoulders.

"V-Vall? You're scaring me... What are you doing?"

"I-I'm so sorry about this."

"VALL?! What do you mean?!"

He lifted him until they were eye to eye. Was he really about to do this? I-It wasn't too late to put him down. A stabbing sensation in his stomach prevented him from stopping, he had to make the pain go away. He fully parted his cloak revealing his second set of arms. Fully stretched out his cloak reached end to end of the room. He looked almost angelic, but to his friend he must have looked like a demon to his friend. He reached out and grabbed his legs to stop him from struggling.

He could see the fear on his face, he felt terrible. B-But he wasn't in any danger! It'd only be a little while in there!

"W-What are you going to do?"

"Im just so hungry. P-please forgive me."

His friend who seemed so much smaller then usual stared him up and down, until his eyes went wide with shock as he realized what was about to happen to him.

"WAIT!! Vall no! Put me down, please! I can figure something out! I promise! Just please don't hurt me!"

"I-I'm not going to hurt you! You'll be fine! I-I promise! I'-Im just s-so hungry. Just p-please don't fight it!"

"Vall wai-"

He cut him off by shoving his head in his mouth. He could taste him, to his starved mind he was delicious. He never thought he would think that. He could feel him struggling, but he was no match for his size and strength. He pushed him further into his mouth and swallowed. He could feel his head lodged in his throat. He franticly tried to quickly gulp him down. He tilted his head into the air, slamming his friends legs into the ceiling. With his shoulders firmly pushed into his throat he was practically choking. He needed to get him down quick. He felt as more and more of him was crammed inside of him. He could hear him shouting something but couldn't make it out, he was too focused on his meal. Only a few seconds later the only part of his friend still outside of him was the tips of his feet, and in one more gulp, he was gone. Almost as quickly as it had started he was gone. Completely within him. He gasped for air. He took a few breaths and retracted his cloak once more. He let out a belch. He felt so full. But despite that, from the outside you would never guess what had just happened. His friend was entirely hidden by his cloak. The hunger was gone now, completely sated, he felt calm. For a moment that is.

Only a few seconds later the weight of his actions came crashing down on him. Had... had he really just done that?! Did he just eat his friend?! No... no, no! This had to be a dream of some kind! He was in denial, and he knew it. He felt movement inside him. As the weight of that feeling hit him, erything seemed to lose color, it felt like time was slowing around him. The intense feeling of shame, regret, disgust washed over him. He had just eaten him, alive. That thought rang through his head. What started as the slight sting in his eye quickly changed to complete sobbing. He was a monster! Why had he done this?! How could he?! He was a danger to the people around him! He didn't know what to do as those thoughts swirled violently through out his mind. He felt completely alone. Until he heard his friend speak.

"V-Vall? A-Am I going to be okay?"

"Y-Yes." He squeaked out between sobs.

"Why? Why did you do this? Why?!"

"I-I... I just... I-I.."

He felt him kick, the pain almost knocked him to the ground.

"Answer me Vall! Why did you do this?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!?!"

"P-please don't s-struggle."

"I'm going to struggle you freak! What the fuck Vall?! Spit me out!"

"I-I will.. Just p-please stop, i-it hurts when you kick."

He felt another kick. It knocked the wind out of him for a moment.

"I fucking hope it does! I was going to help you! And you pull this shit?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!?!"

He had no answer. He deserved the pain of his kicking and struggling. He just collapsed to the floor and started sobbing harder. He just wanted to shrivel up and die. Years of friendship and trust destroyed, all because he couldn't wait. Every time he felt him squirm or kick or struggle in there his demands for answers rang through his head louder and louder. He felt like a monster. He only wanted to say one thing.

"I-I'm so sorry."

He curreled up and tried to cloak his head too. He wanted to be hidden away from the world, so nobody else would know the horror that became of him. So he couldn't hurt anyone else. He laid there form a few minutes, crying to himself, regretting everything he had ever done. He barely even realized that his friend wasn't struggling anymore. He heard him speak up again, softer this time.

"Vall? It's okay. I'm sorry too."

"W-What do you mean? Why are you sorry? I did this!"

"Me screaming at you is only making you worse. Just, take your time to calm down, it's okay, I forgive you."

"Y-You... f-forgive.... me?"

"I do. You'd never hurt me. I trust that you did this for a reason."

He couldn't belive it. After everything he had done, he still forgave him. He could hear his friend's voice shake, he was still a little scared but he seemed to truly believe that he was safe. His mind seemed to calm a little, maybe they could work this out. He tried to collect himself, but it hard. It took a while to just get to a state where he wouldn't break down if he even thought about what he had done. Maybe now he could talk to his friend.

"A-Are you okay in there?"

"I'm fine, if a little cramped."

"Let's t-try and get you out."

"No, not yet, I have questions."

"What do you mean?"

"I want to know why. Why did you do this?"

He felt tears sting in his eyes once more, but he had to keep himself together, he owed him answers.

"I couldn't wait that long. It hurt, so, so much. I didn't want to do this, I just couldn't take the pain. I knew you be okay, you were never in danger, I just needed something, anything to hold me over until the stores opened."

"Well is it working?"

"Yes, it is." He responded shamefully.

"How long until the stores open?"

"Twenty minutes, but you won't have to be there that long, I'll get you out now, I can deal with the pain."

"No Vall, you can't. Well be right back at square one."

"What do you mean?"

"You clearly cannot deal with the pain."

"Well what's other option?"

"I could wait here for a while?"

"W-What?"

"I could stay here for bit, for you."

"W-Why would you want that?"

"It's not that bad in here, I don't mind staying here for some time if it means you aren't in so much pain."

"A-Are you sure?"

"I'm sure, why don't you try and relax in bed?"

Maybe he was right. Maybe he should just try and relax. They'd both been through a lot in only a few minutes. He picked himself up off the ground with some difficulty. It was a little challenging to maintain his balance, with the hundred and fifty pounds of extra weight in his abdomen. He made sure to carefully lower himself on to his bed, as to not disturb his friend. When he eventually laid back down he finally was able to fully relax, and only then could he really take in the sensations he was feeling.

He could make out every movement, squirm or shift his friend made. It was a strange feeling. But without the fear and regret from before, he almost, enjoyed it? It tickled a little. But it a good way. Like a soothing massage. He could feel his friends breathing. The steady rise and fall of his chest. He could feel the warmth of his friends body heat, it made him feel sort of cozy. He curiously pulled his cloak back to see where his friend was stored. It didn't look all that much different then normal, maybe a minor bulge on his belly but that was it. His friend was almost completely buried under so much him. He was so hidden, yet so close. Only a thin layer of flesh away was him. He hovered his hand over it, an intense desire to feel him. But something held him back for moment, nervousness perhaps? It didn't stop him for long, he gently touched his middle, and to his surprise he felt him touch back. He felt so close to him in that moment. Emotionally and physically.

He wondered what it was like for him, to be in his stomach. It couldn't hurt to ask, right?

"What's it like in there?"

"Blue, your stomach is a deep blue."

"It is?"

"So was your maw."

He look at the mirror in the room and opened his mouth. He was right, it was a deep rich blue. He had never really thought about it that much. It never really struck him as something notable, all members of his species had blue maws. But now, it was a comforting thought to know his friend surrounded by such a nice color.

"I ment, what's it feel like?"

"It's sort of soft and not too small."

"I thought you said it was cramped?"

"It's tight, but not in a bad way."

"Cozy?"

"l-l uh, wouldnt say that. Oh and wet, it is very wet in here."

"Is that bad?"

"Not really, I'm soaked but, I don't really mind. But I am going to need a towel once I'm out of here."

"I can get you that when you're out."

"Thank you."

--------

The sun was up, it had been up for a few hours now. The stores had open a long time ago, but neither of them brought it up, he wondered why he hadn't spoken up yet, but he didn't mind, he enjoyed him being in there. But they couldn't sit here forever, they eventually had to get something for him to really eat. Eventually his roommate floated the question.

"So, how about we think about getting you something to really eat."

"Do you want to run out to the store?"

"It'll still take a while to get there, grab the food and get it back to you. I think you should get it."

"What? I should go out, IN PUBLIC, with you in there? Are you serious?"

"Am I really that noticeable? Am I not hidden by your cloak?"

He did have a point, he looked no different then usual from the outside. But to go out and interact with people, in this state. He was terrible with people normally, he couldn't imagine trying to talk to someone with another, living, breathing being inside of him. Just thinking about it made him nervous. But he really didn't want to deal with the pain a second longer than he had to.

"No" he begrudgingly admitted.

"You can get your food, come home, spit me out and eat some real food."

"But what if somebody asks why I'm walking funny? What if somebody notices the little bulge when I'm holding things?"

"Just.... say you had a good meal or something, I highly doubt anyone will immediately assume you ate somebody."

"You do have a point."

"See? You'll only be out for half an hour. If for whatever reason somebody finds out, you can pin all the blame on me."

He felt calmer, maybe he could. Maybe he could go out and get his food like this.

A few minutes later he was waiting at a bus stop. There was a few more people waiting too. All humans, his kind were vastly out numbered by humans. There was about a hundred humans for every Vulcanite. He stood out. He tried his best to keep his cool. Nobody seemed to notice his anxious behavior. Only a few minutes later the bus arrived. He ducked his head as he stepped on. While modern infrastructure was designed for both humans and Vulcanites, but it was hard to make everything suitable for such large beings.

He wondered if he should sit down or stand on the bus, if he sat it would draw less attention but it would be uncomfortable for his friend, but, if he stood people might notice his.... meal. No, he was over thinking this. Nobody would notice if he stood.

Ten minutes later he ducked his head once more as he stepped of the bus. He was here. When he walked about. He made sure to grab twice the food he'd normally get. He knew that he would eat a lot once they got home, so he should make sure they had more food after he was done. He was shocked to see that no one took notice of him. Well not entirely, he occasionally got a few curious looks from people who didn't see Vulcanites much. He didn't mind though. He understood that humans were very curious beings.

When he grabbed everything he'd need he made his way to the check out. He recognized one of the cashiers. Anne. She was one of the guests they'd had over just yesterday. He looked down at his stomach. The ones that had eaten the last of their food, the ones that had driven him to eat his friend. He didn't mind. He was almost glad that they had run out of food. It had led him to this unique experience.

He made his way over to her and put his groceries next to her.

"Oh! Vall it's you!"

"Y-yeah, it's me."

"Sorry for eating the last of your food."

He awkwardly chuckled.

"It's alright, no harm done."

"Thank you, say where's your roommate? I usually see him here, never you."

He panicked to think of an excuse. She'd be surprised to realise he was here too.

"Oh! He's... he's uh... working today! They're having issues at Helios! They needed him."

She seemed to notice his stuttering language. But she didn't push it.

"Okay... If you say so."

He quickly picked up his food and left. Even though it was minor, the exchange between him and Anne left his heart pounding, his brain had already run through all the ways he could slip up. But he made it. He walked home carrying well over a dozen large bags of food. It was a little hard to hold so much in all four hands and keep his middle hidden. But he managed.

---------

He opened to door and placed the bags on the kitchen table. He prepared himself to spit his friend out and immediately scarf down the food he had bought. No wait, he should grab a towel for his friend. He walked back downstairs and tosses the towel on the table, only then did he notice that he hadn't heard or felt his friend since he left the house. He prodded at his stomach.

"Are you alright?"

"Huh? Oh... yeah I'm fine. I just fell asleep."

"Asleep?"

"Yeah? I fell asleep. Is that an issue?"

"No, it's just, a little surprising to hear that you actually fell asleep in there. It it actually that comfortable?"

"Oh, it's, umm, alright I guess, it's not uncomfortable. Nevermind it, did you get your food?"

"Yeah, nobody noticed. I also saw Anne. She asked where you were."

"Well what did you say?"

"I told her that Helios needed you."

"Did she buy it?"

"Not entirely. She definitely knew something was up but she didn't ask. Anyway, are you ready to come out?"

"Yeah, I'm ready."

"Alright, just give me a moment."

It was at that moment he realized something. How does he make himself vomit? Could he just.... push him back up? He lodged all of his hands under the slight bulge in his middle, and pushed. It made him feel sick. But that was good. After a bit he felt him be forced back up into his throat. He felt him reach his arm up until he felt it pop back into his mouth. He quickly used two his hands to reach into his maw and grab him. It was tough to keep his grip, his hand was covered in drool. But he managed to hold on and pull him out. He felt him be dragged out of him until he was holding him in the air. He was a mess, utterly soaked in saliva. He gently put him back on the ground and handed him the towel. Only then did the hunger come back. He immediately started devouring the food around him. Only a few minutes later he felt full. He took a few deep breaths. The episode was over. Finally. He turned to his friend. He didn't seem to mind the view of his gluttony. He was too busy cleaning himself off.

---------

The sun was gone now. The unusual day they'd had was still on both of their mind. But neither showed it. They hadn't talked about it, all day. The were getting ready to go to bed. His roommate was watching a documentary on his phone in bed. And he was sat at his desk, next to the mirror, reading a novel. He heard his roommate speak.

"Are we not going to talk about what happened today?"

"Why? Is there something you want to say?"

"Well..."

He saw a look of nervousness on his face. Almost like he regretted asking. What was on his mind? Did he... enjoy his time? He assumed he might have enjoyed it. Perhaps he was a little embarrassed to admit it.

"Did you like it in there?"

"N-no!" He snapped back.

He smiled, that was it. He turned to him.

"Did you enjoy it? It's fine if you did."

"I..."

He seemed reluctant to admit it. He knew it would a little odd to say you enjoyed you're time in somebody's stomach. He didn't mind, he had enjoyed it too.

"You did, didn't you. I don't mind, I liked it too."

"Well..."

"Are you not going to admit it?"

"Maybe a bit..."

Ha! He had his answer. But there still seemed to be something on his mind. He knew him, he wouldn't admit something like this without a little... "encouragement" He had an idea. Maybe he could push him a little, it might get him to admit whatever was bothering him.

"Awww, are you upset you had to leave?"

"N-no!"

"Don't worry, you can tell me."

"....a little...."

He got up out of the chair and walk towards him. He had an idea that he might like.

"Say... Maybe you could help me during episodes, hold me over for a while, like today?"

He showed a toothy smile to signal what he was implying. He saw his friend squirm a little.

"I-If you w-want to..."

"Both of us know you want to, that's what bugging you, just admit you want to get eaten again."

"Fine. I had a good time. I wouldnt mind helping you through episodes by doing... that."

He reached out and ruffled his hair.

"Good to hear."

He walked back to his bed, and laid down. He looked at his friend, laying in bed, trying to continue his documentary. But he could see him turning to look at him every now and then. He quickly turned his head back to his phone when he noticed him staring at him. He felt a smile cover his face. He almost looked forward to the next episode. He rolled over to face the wall. He thought about the way he had teased his friend. It was oddly... fun? Just to playfully mess with him a little. He had never really done something like that. He normally didn't have enough confidence to talk like that, but after today, he felt a little more sure of himself.

He fell asleep with a smile on his face.

[vikanite1]

Wowza I haven't posted in a while here have this drawing of Vulcanite with some floating things as an apology

[yiffweed]

In today's stream we put together the full process of smelting Iridium Plates.

To do this, we had to go to a new planet, Krubidium, and mine Iridite using Sulfuric Acid. This acid is produced on Krubidium from naturally occurring oil and iron deposits. We then crush the Iridite before shipping it to our home world of Nauvis.

On Nauvis we process the Crushed Iridium. Ammonia, Nitric Acid, and Hydrogen Chloride are produced on-site. We combine these with Cation Ion Exchange Beads and the Crushed Iridium to produce Iridium Powder. Leftover Dirty Water is filtered for any remaining Crushed Iridium.

The Iridium Powder is then combined with Enriched Vulcanite, shipped from the planet Ogun, to produce Iridium Blastcake, which is then refined into Iridium Ingots and Plates.

On the next stream we will be using the Iridium Plates in various experiments aboard our Orbiting Solar Platform to produce Material Science.

[cantsayidont]

February 1955. My personal favorite of the various minor recurring characters of the Batman stories of the 1950s is Brane Taylor, the blonde Batman of the 31st Century, who appeared twice: first in a story in BATMAN #67 in 1951, and again in DETECTIVE COMICS #216 in early 1955.

As explained in the above page from the latter story, Brane first traveled back to Batman and Robin's era to enlist Dick Grayson's help after his own Robin (Brane's unnamed redheaded nephew) was injured fighting a space pirate called Yerxa. Robin's recollection above makes it sound a bit more glamorous than that earlier adventure actually ended up being for him — you see, Brane got both of them sent to space-prison!

If that last panel looks familiar, that's because it's a pretty direct swipe from a scene in the film DESTINATION MOON, which came out in 1950, not long before Bill Finger wrote this story. (That image appeared in promotional stills and posters, which I assume penciller Dick Sprang referenced.) In any event, Brane and Robin had to endure a lot of very miserable manual labor "in the mine pits of Vulcan" before they figured out how Yerxa was stealing the Vulcanite (a "new element" that when combined with glass "concentrates the sun's heat to an unbelievable degree!"). Afterward, Dick used Brane's time machine to bring Bruce Wayne to the 31st Century to help thwart Yerxa's attempt to reveal that Brane Taylor was Batman.

Oh, "scientific massage-treatment," huh? Is that what they're calling it now? The "one difference" between them, by the way, is that Brane is slightly taller than Bruce Wayne, something that will indeed become relevant later.

Brane's earlier appearance had implied that he was a bit more of a fop than Bruce Wayne, and during his time in the 20th Century, he keeps flirting with Vicki Vale, something that immediately makes her suspicious:

Brane also comes across as a bit of a doofus, although part of his problem is that he's largely unfamiliar with the 20th Century (which is ancient history for him), and Robin keeps nagging him not to use his various futuristic gadgets, especially around Vicki:

Sometimes, of course, he has no alternative:

By this time, Brane's "scientific massage" has worked wonders, and Bruce Wayne is back in action. However, Vicki is not satisfied:

Honestly, he's lucky Vicki didn't break out the phrenology calipers.

There's a common misconception that the monsters, weird aliens, and strange transformations that began to dominate the Batman strip around 1957 were a huge departure from what had come before, but the truth is that Batman stories had incorporated a fair number of fantastical elements since the very beginning. What changed in the late 1950s and early 1960s was that those elements became too frequent and too rote to really be fun anymore. Earlier stories like the Brane Taylor adventures are also pretty out there, but there's an imagination and energy that editor Jack Schiff (though reportedly much better to work for than tyrannical Superman group editor Mort Weisinger) didn't know how to sustain when this kind of material became the rule rather than the exception for Batman and Robin.

[mad-mathematician]

Progress!!

Not a whole ton of one specific thing, but many little things have been completed!

I've automated blue belts!! Made a little factory building to spit out all the blue belts I could ever want, supplied directly off my train grid!

2. I bodged together a couple hundred speed modules! Made a quick little hand-fed setup to produce some when needed.

3. I setup a teeny tiny core mining drill setup to collect iron ingots!

It's horribly inefficient, burns off all the ores that aren't iron, doesn't have any speed modules, but it doesn't need to be fast or good because it only has one job, which will be obvious in the next point...

4. I used the vulcanite blocks in the NOrbit base and the Canary, combined with the iron ingots from core mining, to build all the production science packs I could before automating the science myself!!

It was a very hastily thrown together, hand fed, spaghetti mess of a build, but it served its one and only purpose: Unlock beacons.

You don't actually need vulcanite, or any off-world resource, to build beacons, only to research them. So with the research now completed, I can build as many as I want!! Which is important becauuusee...

5. I designed a vulcanite production line!!!

It's setup to output 30 cubes/s from only raw vulcanite, water, and oil. Stone and sand byproduct can be output at the top, or voided if needed. And the reason I went through all the hassle above, is because it's designed around prod 2 in every machine, with speed 3 in beacons around them, feeding onto blue belts!!!

I'm planning on flying to my vulc world, setting this up with local oil and imported water ice, then using the cubes to mass produce prod 3 modules before setting up my cryonite outpost.

Currently I'm in the process of loading up a rocket to fly to the outpost, will post more updates soon!!

[omgthatdress]

Celluloid

Celluloid tatting shuttles owned by my great-great grandmother, Ida Mae Lohmar, along with some of the lace she made with them.

Celluloid parrot earrings

Celluloid was the first plastic to really make it into people's everyday lives. It'd made from cellulose which is derived from plant materials, and it was sometimes sold as "vegetable ivory."

Its white color made it easy to dye, and the fact that it could be made from any plant material meant that it was easier to manufacture than plastics made from rubber sap that had to be imported from tropical countries. It wasn't limited to jewelry, decoration, and specific industrial stuff the way gutta percha and vulcanite were.

Celluloid is lightweight and somewhat brittle. It is not as sturdy as bakelite and is somewhat easy to break. Because it was so common, moldable, and easy to dye, it was a pretty common material for jewelry.

[catilinas]

mudlarking haul in full, left to right top to bottom:

my beautiful commemorative clay pipe for a naval victory that never happened. 1741

mid-late 17th century pipe bowl

vulcanite bottle stopper that says BEST because i am. the best. late 19th- early 20th century

idk it's blue it has a little building on it

sunderland slipware rim that looks like commas to me. 19th century

bit of flint that looks like a fish :)

rock with a cool texture

tessera. victorian?

pottery with a painted bird :) 18th century maybe but idk im bad at porcelain

under the cut: ship pipe next to a ship; bird pottery next to birds; I'm The Best Bottle-Stopper; The River Has Given Ada the Gift Of An Entire Trowel

[gothhabiba]

To ask a question about something other than moms…What… ARE Victorian mourning codes? And how did you find out about them? Are there any good sources?

Wearing black for some time after the death of a relative was already a convention in England in the Regency, but the common narrative is that Queen Victoria's very long, very public mourning for her husband, Prince Albert, encouraged the increased codification and strictness of mourning codes from the 1860s to the -80s (by the late 90s, stringent and prolonged mourning was occasionally referred to in contemporary writing as a thing of the past; the 1930s is usually given as the last decade when mourning dress was socially codified in England and the U.S.).

Conventions for mourning attire (and visiting, comportment, letter-writing, visitor-receiving, &c.) were laid out in etiquette and housekeeping manuals and magazines of the mid-to-late Victorian era; given the increasing literacy rate throughout England in the 19th century, alongside other economic changes, there was increased demand for works that explicitly explained conventional, "respectable" genteel behavior for those who wanted to emulate it but did not have family history of gentility (many of them merchants, for example).

The relationship between "etiquette," "morality," and class in this time, as well as the relationship between conventions as they are actually lived and as they are written down in etiquette manuals, is debated. What's clear is that prescriptions for mourning the same family member at similar times differ from text to text; these texts also note the personal nature of mourning attire, pointing out that some people follow conventions stringently, while others do much more and still others somewhat less than would be "expected."

So guidelines for mourning attire (and behaviour) differed significantly based on the age and gender of the mourner, their relation to the deceased, the time period and place, and which writer you were consulting. Typically, for widowed women, a period of no less than a year (and up to a year and nine months) of deep mourning is called for, perhaps followed by a period of second mourning and then a period of half mourning, amounting to around 2-3 years in total. For widowers, a year of far less stringent mourning. If the deceased was your child, a year; if a sibling, six months.

Generally, deep mourning consists of black dress covered entirely in black, lustreless crepe; a crepe veil covering the face and descending to the calves on the rare occasions when the widow must leave the house; no jewellery or ornament of any kind, with necessary fastenings (belt and shoe buckles, buttons) being of lustreless jet; no trim except for a deep fold of crepe. The veil might be worn over the face for about three months, after which it would be thrown back over the head to shew the face; or it might cover or reveal the face depending on whether the bereaved were in the mood to talk.

With second mourning, the layer of crepe may be abandoned and black fabrics with a slight lustre may be introduced, as well as jewellery consisting entirely of jet, vulcanite, or other black material; half-mourning introduces lace trim, lavender and grey fabrics, and jewellery including materials other than jet (as long as jet or similar is still the primary material). For men, mourning consists of a black hatband and armband, and perhaps black cravat and waistcoat. This is in England; in many parts of the U.S., mourning codes were less strict, with jet jewellery for example being acceptable immediately after the death of one's husband.

Working class people often followed guidelines for mourning attire to whatever extent they could; certainly they would wear black to funerals, whether this meant renting clothing or buying it "on tick" to be sold again immediately after the funeral, or dyeing their existing clothing black.

I haven't touched on the reasons given for following mourning codes because this is already long! A lot of interesting work has been done with regards to how people during the Victorian era responded to and used codes of mourning--check out my tag on the subject.

Contemporary references:

The art of dressing well (1870), pp. 92-6 (U.S.)

The ladies' book of etiquette, and manual of politeness : a complete handbook for the use of the lady in polite society (1873), pp. 82-3 (U.S.)

Manners of modern society : being a book of etiquette (1875), pp. 83-4 (England)

Cassell's Household Guide vol. 3 (1884), pp. 344-5 (England)

Manners and rules of good society : or, Solecisms to be avoided (1898), p. 230ff (England)

Lancaster History provides references to 19th-century U.S. writing on mourning dress

[eriebasin]

An unusual Victorian era Masonic fob built in vulcanite (an early thermoplastic made from rubber), with enamel detailing, and six pyrite orbs set on the face. The reverse has the letters "ORC" for the Order of Railway Conductors, a labor union started in 1868. Dates to c1890.

(online)