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sebastianswallows · 1 month

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The English Client — Five

— PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: The year is 1952. Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He is sent to Rome to acquire three ancient books of magic by any means necessary. One in particular proves challenging to reach, and the only path forward is through a pretty, young bookseller. A foreigner like him, she lives alone, obsessed with her work... until Tom comes into her life.

— WARNINGS: Tom hurts himself like an idiot and tries to hurt reader like an idiot

— WORDCOUNT: 2.6k

When she returned the next morning, she didn’t have the sense that anything was wrong, even when she found the ledgers placed in the wrong order underneath her desk. It wouldn’t be the first time… So she followed her routine and spent the chill hours of the morning making coffee in the little kitchen in the back and finished a review of Pliny the Younger she’d begun two days ago.

It wasn’t until later, after lunch, when she went into the back rooms to put Pliny in his place that she realised something was definitely wrong. The carpet, usually so carefully smoothed over the trapdoor, was creased in a light wave, its yellow tassels ruffled. The table in the centre of the room was quite askew as well, the items on it shifted to the right. She froze, then rushed to check the hidden door.

But the door was safe. There wasn’t even a scratch on it… She placed her signet ring into the keyhole and it popped open with a click, just as it always did. She lifted it and stepped inside, down the steps that led into the tunnel. It was dark and quiet… Nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe she was the one who made that mess the last time she was there. She did tend to be a bit clumsy sometimes…

With a sigh of relief, she climbed back up, and as her face reached the level of the floor, something shiny underneath the table caught her eye. She got up and closed the door behind her, then crawled on her knees underneath the table to grab the foreign thing.

It was one of those fancy pocket knives with all sorts of uses… Red handle, stainless steel blade. Her heartbeat turned frantic and sweat cloyed at her hairline, and she felt her stomach drop — someone else had been there. And she’d have to report this. With brisque and heavy steps, she went back to her desk and picked the phone up.

“Hello?” she whispered once the Curator picked up. “It’s me, upstairs. Erm, has anything gone missing? What? Oh, n-no reason, just, I think we had a break-in and — No, it’s fine! Just — I don’t think so. Erm, did I call him? Not yet. I —”

She listened to the frustrated cursing of the man downstairs as she stared at the Swiss knife, turning it in her hands, her whole body tense and weak, when suddenly her frown melted away and lips parted. There were two letters inscribed into the blade: C. M.

“It’s someone with the initials C and M,” she said quickly. “Know anyone? No, I don’t either… Alright. Alright, I’ll call him now. Thank you.”

“Yes, it’s not much to go on, but —”

“There is no need,” scraped the voice from the other end of the line.

“What?”

“You said nothing was taken?”

“A-as far as I can tell… Downstairs is safe too.”

“Hm. Possibly something forgotten by a customer.”

“H-how can you be sure?”

“If it had been an intruder, you would not have found a knife,” he said. “You would have found a corpse.”

She frowned, not really understanding him but ready to accept this resolution.

“S-so, what would you like me to do?”

Silence on the other end. Perhaps he expected her to increase security, or just carry on as normal since he seemed so calm about it…

“Put a copy of Torchia on display.”

“What?!”

“If it really was a break-in, and it has to do with the auction, we will test the resolve of our thief.”

“Do you want that book or…”

“Yes. Ask Ambrogio,” he said, and in the background, she could hear the scratching sound of him writing something down.

“Alright, sir…”

The scratching persisted until he hung up on her.

III

Tom smiled against the receiver. He so hated telephones with their smooth plastic in unnatural colours, but they were faster than an Owl… Besides, muggles seemed to love them.

“Yes, if you could manage it, I’d be ever so grateful,” he drawled silkily, putting on the same boyish airs he did when meeting with another of Burke’s clients. “No no, not right now. I’ll tell you when. Is that alright? It is? Oh, wonderful. You know, I keep thinking of that hotel you mentioned. You were right about this one, it’s awful. Yes. Yes, I’ll consider it.”

He hissed a few more pleasantries and said goodbye. When it was over, he reached to the bedside table to hang up, but not without some difficulty. He sighed and rested his cheek against his long cold palm cushioned by the pillow. Tom was lying on his front on the narrow hotel bed, a pack of ice on his hip — just a few cubes tied up in a handkerchief. It did little to reduce the bruise that bloomed there, but at least it kept the swelling down. He could think of a dozen potions that would do much better than this, but he had none of the ingredients on hand. His own fault for leaving London without buying some supplies first…

He held the pack to him and got up gingerly, growling all the while. He should have been happy, he’d made a great deal of progress in finding where they held the book, even if the way was closed to him. And with a bit of luck, he might yet find a way to gain their trust.

Tom limped over to the window, a drop of water sliding down his naked leg. The sun was setting and the streets were filling up, frothing with white dresses and silk scarves. How he hated being around muggles…

He let the curtains close again and waved his wand to brew him a cup of tea. Fire spells were so useful even if you didn’t have your mind on arson. He was at least glad he’d brought some tea leaves with him, and could brew them at just the right temperature. The milk they served around these parts was also not so bad, and worked wonderfully with the brew. It soothed his nerves if nothing else.

He sat down in the armchair, legs askew, loose shirt covering him to his thighs, and picked up his notebook. At least he knew they had the Trevisan that he was after... It would make the perfect excuse to visit again — in a more overt manner.

Absentmindedly, he placed the ice pack on his lap, and immediately jumped up in his seat.

“Oh fuck! Cold!”

He growled and with a sharp flick of his wand transformed the pack into a pillow, and settled down again.

It should have delighted her that Frederico found the freedom to ask her out for lunch again. She sometimes thought she worked too many hours, but that impression faded when she heard from him. All Fred ever talked about was work. His shop was two streets away — not his of course, just as Casa Ur wasn’t hers — but he behaved as if it was his child sometimes, so dutifully he tended to it. She put it down to the speed with which she worked, as she was younger than most of the other book dealers in the city and less worn down by its pressures. But even she could not muster the endless enthusiasm of her friend.

Their lunches together had nothing romantic about them, they never did. He was a kind, soft-spoken man in his mid-forties, his skin just starting to sag around his cheeks, his forehead creased from frowning, brown eyes wet and tired behind a thick pair of glasses. The way he looked at her unnerved her sometimes, but then again, he seemed to look at everything that way…

He picked her up from Casa Ur and they went to a restaurant together, his paunch swinging before him and the sun shining brightly on the bald spot at his crown. He loved to talk, his high hoarse voice filling up the silence. She didn’t mind. She needed the company.

“And anyway, to prevent the shipment from being late, we found an old pathway they could take to avoid the flood, and they arrived five minutes before schedule,” he said, finishing the latest drama from his shop as they sat down at the restaurant across from the Fontana Trevi. “Can you imagine? Flooding, in the hottest summer on record?”

“Oh, last summer was even hotter.”

“You think so, but that’s not what they said on the weather report.”

“I think I’ll have carbonara,” she hummed, licking her lips. She loved the menu at this place…

“Hm? Oh, parmesan gnocchi for me, I think. With cream and garlic, oh yes… Wine for you?”

“No, I don’t think so. Just water.”

“Might be a while until they come around to us. So many tourists out today. Awful. Anyway, I wanted to tell you about the reason we found that route. Guess.”

“I don’t know,” she laughed.

“Guess, guess! Alright, so, it was our collection of Martinelli maps.”

“Fascinating. Oh, there’s a waiter! Scusi, cameriere!”

She hadn’t liked Fred when they first met two years before, but she’d gotten used to him. Or, she’d learned how to put up with him, allow herself to be carried on the wave of conversation that he wove. Now, it was a pleasant way to spend an afternoon, eating in the open air, letting his enthusiasm drown her worries as he wagged his sausage fingers in the air to summon up the largess of the maps that saved his boss’ shipment.

Every one of their colleagues was different, each with their own flaws and problems — broken marriage, spiteful children, loneliness and illness and malaise — but they all carried the same passion for books. Books most people never heard of, books only obsessives cared about, books older than countries. They, few and a little insane, were together enchanted by their beauty.

So she could forgive Fred his childlike wonder, even during their lunch break, because the same passion smouldered, albeit very deeply, within her. It was what kept her going in spite of her loneliness, her anomie, and the drudgery of daily life.

“By the way, who’s coming at the next auction?”

“Most of the same,” she sighed, her breath fogging the half-empty glass of water. “A few new names this time. Foreign names. Can’t say I know any of them.”

“Must be invited by Oso.”

“Oh, I doubt he has the authority.”

“No, but you know how the Baron looks up to him.”

She chuckled, her lips pursed to stop a toothy grin. “Given his condition, it’s hardly surprising.”

“What do — Oh, you mean the… Oh, that’s quite cruel,” said Fred, his eyes two charcoal slits beneath the fat dark crinkles of a smile.

“Sorry, sorry…”

“But anyway, you know he could talk him into doing just about anything.”

“Maybe… Would you like to have some coffee before we go?”

“Sure,” he said. “I know you don’t really like talking about the auctions.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just that… just that…”

“Just that you don’t like it,” he laughed.

She was playing with her fork in the leftover sauce of carbonara while Fred waved a waiter over when she noticed from the corner of her eye a familiar contrast of black hair and deathly pallor. Was that Mr. Riddle? His eyes were hidden by shades and his full lips were pressed against the rim of a wine glass, but she was certain it was him. She turned before he spotted her.

While Fred kept droning on about another fascinating problem he’d had at work, she found her thoughts drifting, dreaming, and a soft smile blossomed on her face at just the memory of how good Tom looked the last time he was in her shop. Those dark curls falling over his eyes, how she longed to ease them back, to trace the sharp angles of his jawline, to kiss him… His lips looked so soft.

She sneaked another glance his way when the waiter took their plates. Leisure looked good on him, even if he seemed an amateur at it. A workaholic, perhaps, like her… He wore a pale green shirt today. The colour tasted sweet in her mind, like pistachio gelato. It was generously parted at the neck where his sweat was cooling, and underneath the table she could tell his legs were crossed, clad in sinfully tight silver-grey trousers.

“And once we had the original manuscript, we realised it referred to the Capuchin Catacombs, not the Parisian ones! My dear, are you listening?”

“What? Yes, the catacombs, of course,” she said, hiding her warm smile behind a cup of coffee.

The shop was more quiet than usual when Tom stepped in that day. That was to say, it was quieter than when he’d broken in. There was a tense silence to the place, one that slithered up his spine and settled pleasantly at the back of his brain.

He hadn’t missed the Torchia displayed in the window, in the centre of a carefully constructed swirl, holding court over far lesser volumes. In fact, it was the reason he had come.

“Buongiorno.”

“H-hello!” she called from behind her desk, getting up quickly enough to knock over a stack of papers when she noticed him.

“Didn’t expect to see me again, did you?” he grinned, sliding a hand casually in his pocket.

“Not really, no,” she chuckled. “How can I help you?”

Her eyes flitted to the window before coming back to him. She was expecting him to ask for the Delomelanicon again. She probably had a whole little script ready once he did. As if Tom would fall for so obvious a trap…

“Well, I was wondering if you had a copy of The Lost Word, by Bernard Trevisan.”

“W-what?”

“Is it a bit too obscure? He’s a —”

“Fifteenth-century alchemist,” she said, her smile suddenly beaming with nothing of the apprehension from before. “The Lost Word is a famous alchemical treatise! Yes, I know it. Which edition?”

“Doesn’t matter. Any would do.”

“We have a solid copy. Not too old, but faithful to the original, and at a good price.”

She began leading him into the second room before she’d even finished speaking. What a charming girl… She’d hoped he hadn’t been the intruder, and Tom had just confirmed it. He had gained her trust.

He followed her quick and careful steps, a heady perfume trailing behind and the metronomic echo of her thin high heels.

“It’s quite deep inside,” she said.

“Is it indeed?”

His hand came slowly out of his pocket, holding his wand.

“Not much further now, through this door.”

Tom stopped, took aim, and cast it.

“Imperio.”

“I’m sorry, did you say something?” she asked as she kept walking.

“…Nothing?” Tom muttered to himself in wonder. He looked down at his wand as if it were impotent.

“What?” she said, half-turning.

He shoved the wand back between the folds of his jacket before she could see it.

“Ahem, nothing,” he smiled. “Please, continue.”

A chill ran down his skin and bile rose in his throat in anger. It was clear to Tom now that this building, or perhaps the very land it sat on, was protected by some counter-charm. His usual solutions of bending locks and minds would not suffice, but he could not call himself the Heir of Slytherin if he could not find a way. Tom eyed her figure, infuriating and sleek, and decided then and there that she would be his key.

#Tom Riddle #Tom Riddle x reader #Tom Riddle x OC #Tom Riddle fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #sswallow;fanfics #sswallow;made a thing #fanfic;englishclient

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usafphantom2 · 9 months

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Wind tunnel testing was so draining using so much electricity that it would deplete the electricity for an entire town .

This one-twelfth-scale Blackbird wind tunnel test article sits proudly on display at Blackbird Airpark in Palmdale, California. It was used for initial wind tunnel testing after the CIA awarded the A-12 contract to Lockheed on September 14, 1959. I would love to “borrow” this beautiful model and hang it in my home.

The model is constructed of a rugged, heavy stainless steel. To save money, the model was developed with three interchangeable forebody sections, representing the A-12, SR-71, and YF-17. The aft body of all the Blackbird aircraft are essentially the same. All you had to do was replace the nose and you would have a different air frame.

Reading in Ben Rich‘s book, the “Skunk Works” Rich logged hundreds of ($10,000 to $15,000 an hour) wind testing the Blackbird . Wind tunnel tests help inventors and manufacturers better understand the nature of the flow of air over and around a vehicle or object, as well as the effects it causes on that object, especially aerodynamic forces. Ben would travel north to Moffett Field and test at NASA Ames Research Center” We found that running Mach 3 pressures for several hours drains so much of the electricity that was needed by local industry that we were forced to test only late at night, working until dawn.’’ In other words, the local businesses and homes would not having enough electricity. It was that draining. Ben Rich, and his group would then travel back down to the Skunk Works in Southern California. Ben literally did not have time to sleep! His hard work paid off Ben was the designer of the engine's inlets that would move backwards up to three feet to position it’s shockwave to minimize drag. Ben later designed the F117. Check out this one minute video.

TAP ARROW BUTTON TO VIEW 👇

m.youtube.com/watch?si=3sOS7…

youtube

Written by Linda Sheffield

Source, the “Skunk Works”

Habu, by Curt Mason

@Habubrats71 via Twitter

#Youtube

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caffeinesam · 3 months

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I was perusing a choice of bleeder screws for my motor vehicle's brake system on a popular consumer site and noticed an item listed with a very partial title and a photo and... well did you know they make huge hollow stainless steel butt plugs meant to be used as some sort of tunnel?

Fascinating really, and now I wonder what to do with that information.

Also how did it come to be? Is it a medical contraption turned into a kink? Just a kink idea? I feel like it could have medical applications.

Anyway now my suggested products are peppered with random sex toys.

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kuraikyu · 1 year

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anonymous: hello :3 i love reading your canons and wonder are those plugs on geto real? and would he wear other types? if yes then what kind?

HI, Nony! Ah, suppose this is one of many things Gege just won't gift us but regarding my own headcanons -- to clarify whether Suguru is wearing real gauges the answer is yes; they are real. His starting point? Homely environment. He pierced them himself with hot needle and was not thrilled by the experience. As during any proper incipient road with earrings, he used to wear fake plugs from stainless steel before attending Jujutsu high, and after officially becoming a Sorcerer he made up his mind to proceed with gradual stretching as a part of his 'spiritual' awakening - reaching roughly 13 mm ( and that is maintained until Hyakki Yakō -December 24, 2017 and so on with Kenjaku lol ).

Number 13 has a special sacred meaning in numerology linked to transformation, death to the matter or to oneself, and the birth to the spirit; the passage on a higher level of existence, hence why 13 mm was a goal to reach and maintain. He is lucky enough to be non-allergic thus he is not bound to wear any special hypoallergenic jewelry for sensitive skin. But of course, there's a certain possibility for people to encounter him wearing something absolutely different than what his political image consists of habitually. The switch in fashion happens during special events or festivities. While not seemingly apparent his idiosyncratic mind would give free reign to shapes decidedly eccentric ... His taste is sophisticated but that clearly doesn't mean he wouldn't dive in adventurous selection; he wouldn't shy away from unique patterns and even transparency or glitter ( ahhhh, I'm so intrigued by the idea of Geto and transparent gauges idk why :o) ). For example - he would take on something essentially thematic like these during Hanami; Blossom Festival in Japan. Aside from that, Geto has a small but rather quirky collection of various gauges and tunnels. Among his favorites can be obviously and not so surprisingly found elegant tones of black and gold in shapes of dragons, and mandalas, but also fun-time acrylic set from Hasaba twins. And haha, yes, he really wears them, especially in their presence!

But just like girls only a small circle of people remain in primary cognizance of such fact.

For keen observer, it could be an easy tell and survey ( if in pursuit ) obtaining a priori about his slight sense for decorative overview. But be that as it may, that sort of informational access ALSO requires a degree of connection with his persona.

𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:

Size : ㅤㅤㅤ13 mm ( only lobe hole without decor, with gauge inserted, it can cast faux image of 15 mm )

Allergies : ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ noneㅤ

Shape : ㅤㅤ✓ㅤround - only! ㅤㅤ✗ㅤtear - never!

Material : ㅤㅤ✗ㅤmetal - is not his forte, favors wood and natural gemstones ㅤㅤ✓ㅤstones - golden obsidian, garnet, moonstone, onyx, labradorite ㅤㅤ✓ㅤclassic acrylic - for mundane daytime, silicone for swimming ㅤㅤ✓ㅤblack wood ( ebony ) - for nighttime, slumber and relaxation

Bonus : During sessions of meditation he is prone to wear tunnels from pure amethyst, for better Third Eye Chakra stimulation; it is also the only time he is seen wearing them other time than during festivities.

about wearing Moonstones.

favorite types.

#headcanons ;#answered ;#anonymous ;#{ Ah! Finally getting to babble Geto's fashion hope this satisfied your curiosity! <3 }#muse ; geto / headcanons.#under the veilㅤ: metas & headcanons.

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charliewykes · 1 year

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underground back-and-forths

Riding alone on subways In the rip roaring calm Roaming the constant city. Playing that song out loud For too long while pretending There’s nothing wrong with it. As nothing and nobody quits Each time I sit in a metal box Twist, and turning as iron burns Stainless steel tracks squealing In tunnels painted black As there’s no looking back And yet, you can’t stop staring. In cracked mirrors Reflection When doors slide open, You’re taken aback. You step off Return You’ve arrived On a platform, You’ll always be back

#writerscreed #poetrypoertal #twcpoetry #illustrans #deadwatered #alt lit #poetryriot #abstract #poetry #prose #poets on tumblr #spilled ink #poems #spilled thoughts #scribbling #rejectscorner

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andileighwrites · 1 year

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Don't Invite Me to Parties

...

All the noise takes up space, Leaving no room to hear The sound of my own voice. It's already quiet enough; Measured against the loudest Talkers and singers. I am a mouse. My thoughts shrivel and die In the crowded room. No one notices. Too crowded, I feel as if I'm sinking into a crawl space; With the music drumming my ears loose And chattering growing around me Like invasive moss. The mess of conversation makes My teeth throb and I melt Into the coldest sweat. Although, it feels like I'm being tossed In a stainless steel frying pan. The open flame blinds me— There's tunnel vision. I can't see. What did you say? My soul is trying to leave My paralyzed body behind. "Just crawl out when you can!" It can't abandon me just yet. We're tethered. How dare it try to leave me alone. And I still think, hopeful, Maybe next time won't be as bad.

...

Andi Leigh

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scotianostra · 1 year

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On December 26th 1760 “Roebucks, Garbett and Cadells”, later The Carron Company IronWorks, near Falkirk, brought its first blast furnace into operation.

The factory of Roebucks, Garbett and Cadells was established on the north bank of Carron Water, two miles north of Falkirk. Taking iron ore from Bo'ness and water from the Carron, they decided to use the new method pioneered by Abraham Darby at the Coalbrookdale Co, using coke from coal mines in the vicinity as fuel rather than the usual charcoal. The works helped to push other less technologically advanced ironworks, such as the Wealden iron industry based in the Weald, out of business.

Caddell’s young son, also William Cadell, Junior, was appointed manager, and the company’s financial position was precarious in its first few years. It took time and a considerable investment to create the necessary infrastructure and for the largely unskilled workforce to develop the techniques of iron working.

1759 November 11th. The partnership, commencing on 11th November, 1759, was signed on 19th January and 9th February, 1760. There were seven partners, and the capital was to be £12,000, divided into 24 parts or shares. Roebuck and Garbett both had a quarter of the shares valued at £3,000 shares each, Caddell Senior and Junior had another £3,000 worth split evenly between them, the other quarter was split evenly between Roebucks brothers Thomas; Benjamin and Ebenezer.

The company was, at that time, known as “Roebucks, Garbett and Cadells” when the factory started to produce cast iron goods, they were of a generally poor quality. Nevertheless, in 1764, the Board of Ordnance granted the company a lucrative contract to supply armaments to the British armed forces. The company also cast parts for James Watt’s steam engine in 1765.

The company received a royal charter to incorporate as the Carron Company in 1773. However, despite their best efforts, the quality of the company’s products remained low, this resulted in the company’s contracts to supply the Royal Navy being cancelled in 1773.

Undeterred, the company pushed forward the development of a new type of cannon, shorter and therefore much lighter than a long gun of the same calibre known as the “Carronade”.

The carronade was a considerable success, and remained in production from 1778 through to the 1850s. The company established such a reputation for quality that the Duke of Wellington remarked in a letter to Admiral Berkley in 1812 that he only wanted cannon manufactured by the Carron Company in his army. The company also made ammunition, including some invented by Henry Shrapnel.

By 1814, the Carron Company was the largest iron works in Europe, employing over 2,000 workers. They continued to produce pig iron through the 19th century, together with cast-iron products such as balustrades, fire grates, and the Carron bathtub. The company ran its own shipping line and produced munitions in both World Wars. It later became one of several foundries producing pillar boxes and was one of five foundries casting Sir Giles Gilbert Scott’s classic Red telephone boxes. In the 1960s, it produced cast-iron rings to line the Tyne Tunnel under the River Tyne from Jarrow to Howdon and the Clyde Tunnel under the River Clyde from Whiteinch to Govan near Glasgow.

The company diversified into plastics and stainless steel, but the works went into receivership in 1982. The company was bought over and still operates today under the name of Carron Phoenix, part of the Franke corporation. Like its predecessor, The Carron Company, Carron Phoenix’s headquarters are at the Carron Works in Falkirk.

Carron Phoenix produces stainless steel, ceramic and granite molded sinks that are sold around the world; however, some areas of production have been moved to China and Slovakia.

The company still has a big influence in the area with two local bars named in connection with it, The Carron Works in the Town Centre is an old cinema and now a J D Wetherspoon bar, and nearer the works is The Carronade, where one of our members, my friend Jean Helen Harley is a barmaid.

The pics show the old gates and company crest, and two carronades in nearby Stenhousemuir. If you see a red post box around there is a good chance it came from The Carron Works.

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tubetrading · 10 months

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The Role of Stainless Steel Pipes in the Construction Industry

Introduction:

The construction industry in Vadodara, Gujarat, is experiencing rapid growth and development. As builders and architects strive to create durable, safe, and aesthetically pleasing structures, the choice of materials plays a pivotal role. Among these materials, stainless steel pipes have emerged as a go-to option for various construction applications. As a leading stainless steel pipes supplier, distributor, and dealer in Vadodara, Gujarat, the role of stainless steel pipes cannot be understated. This article explores the advantages, applications, and advancements of stainless steel pipes, highlighting their importance in the local construction industry.

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To further enhance the longevity of stainless steel pipes, innovative coatings and linings have been developed. These coatings provide an additional layer of protection against corrosion, prolonging the lifespan of the pipes. Improved joining methods have also streamlined the installation process, ensuring secure and efficient connections.

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Stainless steel pipes play a crucial role in the construction industry in Vadodara, Gujarat. As a trusted supplier, distributor, and dealer of stainless steel pipes in Vadodara, their importance cannot be overstated. With their exceptional properties, applications in various construction sectors, and ongoing technological advancements, stainless steel pipes provide unmatched durability, reliability, and aesthetic appeal. Embracing stainless steel pipes in construction projects in Vadodara, Gujarat, paves the way for long-lasting, sustainable, and visually appealing structures, contributing to the city's development and growth.

#distributor #Jindal pipes #steel industry #steel companies #industrial #plumbing industry #construction structure #construction sites #manufacturer

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guerrerense · 1 year

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The Hartford Tunnels por David Blazejewski Por Flickr: This is one of the more famous and popular photo locations on Amtrak's Springfield Line main, but amazingly I'd never bothered shooting it for myself. However, after wrapping up with CSO-3 I had some time before CSO-4 was going to be headed south so I decided to capture some window trains. Here is CTRail train 4403 headed south emerging from the Hartford 'Tunnels' at HART interlocking, MP 37 on Amtrak's Springfield Line main. P40DC 6709 is ex AMTK 808 blt. May 1993 and later sold to New Jersey Transit in 2007 for Atlantic City Line service as their number 4801. Eight years later she was sold to ConnDOT and in 2022 was overhauled and repainted by Amtrak's Beech Grove, IN shop. She is leading a set of three stainless steel Mafersa coaches built in Brazil in 1992 for VRE and sold to CDOT in 2004. This historic route was chartered in 1833 as the Hartford and New Haven Railroad, and was the very first railroad built in the state of Connecticut. It opened between its namesake cities in 1839 and five years later reached Springfield. These cut and cover stone arches are 56 ft long and pass beneath Main Street and Albany Ave. / Route 44. Dating from 1871, one of the tunnels is now bereft of rails due to Amtrak's single tracking of the route in the 1990s. Just north of the tunnel old New Haven HART tower (SS214) once guarded the south throat of the Windsor Street freight yard, a portion of which remains in use as the hub of CSO operations, and additionally the Springfield Line expands to three main tracks for two miles north. The track diverging to the left is the connection to the Central New England Railroad's Griffins Secondary an 8.7 mile long state owned route that is the last surviving portion of the historic Central New England Railway. Hartford, Connecticut Friday February 10, 2023

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unprocione · 1 year

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Introducing the 'Sentinel Nine,' a fully customized handgun for tackling bioterrorism. It boasts both accuracy and versatility, making it a reliable choice. Not to mention the DSO emblem proudly adorns the grip! ( excerpt from the upcoming resident evil 4 remake deluxe edition. )

Sentinel Nine's origins lie with the Federal Bioterrorism Commission, who was behind the "Sentinel Project". Though handgun models such as the Samurai Edge showed some promise against bio-weapons, the FBC, with the budget of a small country, invested considerably in a dedicated anti-bioterrorism weapon. When the FBC shut down in 2005, the Sentinel was still in a prototype phase, and the project was left dormant until the founding of the DSO in 2011. At this point US agent Leon S. Kennedy took over as supervisor to the project, and made sure it fulfilled three criteria. The Sentinel 9's first on-screen appearance was in Resident Evil: Vendetta, in combat against the A-Virus (Animality Virus), and the Sentinel 9 was intended to be used by Leon in Resident Evil 6, but was replaced by the duel-wielded Wing Shooter handguns. * leon likely was supervisor to the "Sentinel Project" during his furlough in 2011, which was interrupted by the events of Resident Evil: Damnation. leon returned to his furlough afterwards, and the project moved steadily onwards into final stages. leon's main role was to test the project, offer consultation on the construction (for easy disassemble, reassemble, and cleaning on the field) and to advise on the most important features of use central to the Sentinel 9 in combat against bioweapons.

CRITERIA.

✦ VERSATILITY — The handgun had to be able to fire 9mm Parabellum rounds. This ammunition is commonplace, and can be easily obtained at a gunshop and, as 9mm handguns are common for self-defence, can be taken from the bodies of victims. * the 9mm parabellum rounds are one and the same cartridge as the 9mm luger. ✦ STABILITY — The handgun had to be resistant to rusting, weather damage, flooding and be hard to break. It also had to be resistant to acid which may be sprayed by a B.O.W. * most likely stainless steel alloy, which is resistant to sulfuric acids. ✦ CERTAINTY — The handgun had to be accurate and fast on close targets without significant effects from recoil. * influenced greatly from his experience with the plaga, you could even say the sentinel nine is specialized for dealing with plaga & plaga variant bioweapons, but still excels against other various bioweapons.

WHY "SENTINEL 9"?

DEFINITION OF SENTINEL - MILITARY & POLICE. noun - a soldier or guard whose job is to stand and keep watch. verb - station a soldier or guard by (a place) to keep watch.

DEFINITION OF SENTINEL - MEDICINE. noun - a thing that acts as an indicator of the presence of disease.

REFERENCE BACK TO "RED9" in RESIDENT EVIL 4. The RED9 is a handgun available for Leon to purchase from the Merchant in Resident Evil 4 during Chapter 2-2 (you can purchase it at the end of chapter 2-1 if you return to the underground tunnel before entering the Church), It takes up 8 spaces of Leon's inventory, making it the bulkiest handgun in the game besides Leon's own personal handgun at the time, Matilda. The Red9 uses standard .9mm ammo and does the most damage among all the handguns, but is outdone in all other areas, likely due to the difficulty in handling due to bulkiness in construction. Luis Serra uses this weapon throughout the battle at the cabin, aiding Leon. In my opinion, the RED9 is based in inspiration on a mix of the SIG SAUER P226 original in description of use difficulties, but in design mostly the Mauser C96, (often called "broomhandle", the 9mm Mauser variant is often nicknamed Red 9, due to the red 9 that was carved in the handle in order to differentiate it with other calibers) where as the Sentinel 9 is based on the SIG SAUER P226 E2. The Sentinel 9 is a revisitation on the RED9.

REAL LIFE INFLUENCE, SIG SAUER P226 E2.

Sentinel 9 is based on the SIG Sauer P226 E2, used by the Navy SEALs, which allows it to be fired accurately in extreme temperatures.

I spent an August afternoon shooting this pistol at an outdoor range in Florida. To suggest it was hot was an understatement. However, this provided an excellent testbed for the new grip texture. I was extremely pleased to discover that the aggressive grip texture was very effective at keeping the pistol from shifting in my hands, yet it was not abrasive on my hand. After about 400 rounds of ammunition, the pistol was still very comfortable to shoot. (source)

The texture is not so abrasive as to ruin any clothing, but you will definitely be able to hold onto this gun in the rain, mud, and blood. (source)

* another feature of the SIG Sauer P226 E2, is that compared to the SIG SAUER P226 original, the second edition is designed to address the issue of the size of the frame and provide an easier grip and fit to hand.

However, the size of the P226 frame was a problem for many shooters with small or even average size hands. The grip size will affect where the finger addresses the trigger. For someone with “stubby finger syndrome,” the original pistols were simply too large a frame for proper finger placement on the trigger. (source)

First, the most visible change is the gun’s grip. The area high on the backstrap appears to have been cut away and sculpted to allow the web of the shooting hand to fit more naturally into the pistol. This allows someone with smaller hands to better address the trigger. (source)

The new recess high on the backstrap also allows the hand to better mold with the gun, creating a feeling that the gun is an extension of your arm, not a tool in your hand. (source)

As many of you know, I am a full-time police officer in an urban area of Florida. My agency issues the original SIG SAUER P226, so I took the pistol in to get the reactions of other folks carrying the 226 for a living. I shopped the pistol around to 25 different officers of varying sizes and genders, and the overwhelming majority really liked the E2. (source)

Despite the pair never meaning in canon, I like to think that Leon contacted fellow ex-police officer of the Raccoon City Police Department, Kevin Ryman, during the initial testing of the Sentinel 9. A self-described "hell of a shot", Kevin Ryman had previously placed highly in a marksman competition held by the Raccoon Police Department, having won a trophy from the event. Kevin Ryman was intended to be Leon's partner and mentor, if not for the tragic events of the Raccoon City incident coming to pass.

Available first in 9mm, the P226 was later chambered in .40 S&W and .357 SIG. (source)

The Sentinel 9 was likely initially an exclusive firearm under a US military patent, and was not available to the public market until 2013. On release to public market, it makes sense that it was later chambered to provide use for a wider variety of rounds than 9mm alone. The .40 S&W cartridge, is a law enforcement cartridge designed to duplicate performance of the Federal Bureau of Investigation's (FBI) reduced-velocity 10mm Auto cartridge, which could be retrofitted into medium-frame (9mm size) semi-automatic handguns. ( Hornady Handbook of Cartridge Reloading, Fourth Edition - 1991. ) The first Sentinel 9 capable of successfully firing .40 S&W cartridge was gifted to Helena Harper. The .357 SIG cartridge is used by a number of law enforcement agencies, and adoption of this cartridge would lead to the Sentinel 9 being intended and available for police-level use. The first Sentinel 9 capable of successfully firing .357 SIG cartridge was not gifted to Kevin Ryman, out of fear of it being used in a potential suicide attempt. It was instead gifted to Cindy Lennox, a friend of Kevin Ryman's, for her personal protection.

#» 🕊️ ﹕ to protect ， to serve ，‘til death do us part. (headcanon.) ❧#✦ CLASS ﹕ * heavy headcanon.#read my thoughts boy #leon and his dainty hands smh #they're calloused to hell and back #complained about it so much he had to make a new gun about it #tw: guns #tw: suicide mention

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