floor plate



Semi-automatic rifle that was produced in the former Czechoslovakia. It bears some resemblance to the SKS, and even features an integrated bayonet, although side-folding instead of under-folding. Chambered in 7.62x45mm, some rifles were converted to 7.62x39 as the Com-Bloc nations began to standardize calibers. The easiest way to tell a 7.62x45mm from a 7.62x39mm vz rifle is the angle of the magazines floor plate. The latter has a very steep angle to accommodate the 7.62x39 cartridge. The other trick is to check the receiver under the rear sight for a cross pin. This particular rifle is a 7.62x45mm model but the seller is advertising it as a 7.62x39mm. He’s going to have an angry buyer. (GRH)

Absolute Towers

Thank you for your inspiring blog! Thank you for sharing your knowledge :) I wanted to ask your opinion about The Marilyn Monroe condos in Mississauga-Ontario. I honestly find them lacking. There is something missing in the concept. Thank you in advance for your input.

Absolute Towers (nicknamed as “Marilyn Monroe Towers” by the locals for the sinuous shape) by MAD architects is a residential condominiums twin tower skyscraper complex in the five tower Absolute City Centre development in Mississauga, Ontario, Canada. The project design was chosen by a competition. Submissions were judged by a panel which included architects, civic leaders and the development team members.

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Headcanon that Jack buys so much nice shit for the FAHC penthouse. If it was up to Geoff, all they would have were beds on the floor and paper plates so she took over. Made it look like something off Instagram or Pinterest and shit. But once she was done designing it, that was it. Wasn’t her job to maintain it. 

In come the lads, fuckin’ around and getting crumbs everywhere and spilling drinks and leaving game all over the floor. And then Ryan bleeding all over the carpet. Damn place is a mess. 

So Michael cleans it all. He’ll get antsy at 1 am in the morning and just start cleaning, grumbling to himself how it’s not his apartment and he cleans up his messes after he makes them god damnit and why can’t someone else do this for once?

Something Beautiful - Juice Ortiz


You’re dating Juice and become disabled due to chronic pain. How does he handle it?

Juice came home that afternoon to find you in the floor, a plate shattered with food scattered around. His heart stopped as he stood in the doorway shocked for a moment before the fear kicked in and he rushed for you. You were unresponsive and he called his brother’s and an ambulance.

Back then he didn’t understand what was wrong. He didn’t understand when the doctors came out into the waiting room and told him that you had chronic painful headache that caused your blackouts. He did understand one thing though, when the doctor said it was brought on due to stress, he knew it was all his fault.

He knew that he shouldn’t have been with you. He knew that if he hadn’t you would never have contracted this type of condition.

The heat from the Club had hit your home greatly when you found out that he tried to kill himself one night. When he broke down and told you everything. He knew that had stressed you out, but he promised you he’d never try it again after seeing the way you cried and had a panic attack.

“You can’t leave me alone, Juice! Please, don’t ever leave me alone like that!”

He remembered your words and how you screamed them at him through tears as your grabbed his kutte from off his shoulders and chucked it across the room and onto the floor. He remembered how you clung to him afterwards, telling him how the Club wasn’t worth it, but his life with you was.

He remembered it all so clearly.

And just how much worse it had gotten after that night.

Things with the Club just seemed to get worse and worse as time went on and therefore he started shutting you out. He didn’t want you to worry, to have another episode, to get hurt. So he lead you to thinking that everything was fine.

Your smile was what was most important to him. Your happiness. Your unconditional love. You were the most important thing in his life.

But you don’t just leave the Club Life behind.

Juice hadn’t been home for a couple of nights. You weren’t worried about it all that much because he would call you each night before you went to bed. He told you he was on a run out of town. He sounded so happy each time he spoke to you, maybe it was because how much he loved you or the fact that he promised he’d be home soon.

But that day never came and shortly after his calls stopped coming. You were worried greatly, stressed out of your mind. And then it happened. You fainted.

Waking up you found yourself in the hospital bed. Looking around you figured for a moment that Juice must have came home and found you, but that wasn’t the case.


The deep Scottish accent came from your bedside. You rolled your head over and seen it was Chibs. You blinked slowly and a small smile slipped to your lips when you seen Chibs, a dear friend you made through Juice.


You spoke up, your mouth dry. Chibs tried to give you a happy smile, but he just couldn’t muster it up. It was then you noticed the presidential badge that was now on his kutte. You blinked slowly looking up at the elder man.

“Chibs? What happened? Where’s Jax? Juice?”

Chibs took a deep sigh. Preparing to tell you everything that had happened.

Preparing to tell you that through everything, Juice never once stopped loving something as beautiful as you.

Originally posted by irisandbarryallen


“You have to eat.”

You refused to look down at Hunter as he unchained you from the floor, the plate of hot steaming food beside you as he cleaned the wound on your ankle. 

“And you have to stop pulling off your cuff, this’ll get an infection.”

“Don’t act like you care,” you scoffed.

“I do,” he argued. “And whether you like it or not, I always will. I love you (Y/N)–”

“Monsters can’t love,” you said in a monotone voice.

“Don’t say that–”

“Say what Hunter?! The Truth?”

Please, just eat, you’re getting thinner.”

“You’re a monster.” Your voice constantly interrupted him.

“I’m trying not to be, for you. Now can you just eat–”

“I won’t eat what a Monster offers.”

“EAT!” Before you knew it, Hunter’s leather clad hand wrapped around your throat and squeezed tighter than he anticipated. You’re hand joined his, no words escaping your mouth as you tried to take it off, fear gripping you.

Hunter let go immediately, as if his hand burned him, running the the farthest corner of the room. You took in a deep breath and rubbed your neck, wincing at the feeling of possible bruising. 

You looked at your husband to see his shoulders shaking violently, and you knew he was crying from the way he heavily leaned on the wall. “I’m trying–I can’t, I won’t be this person around you,” you heard through his choked voice. “But the things I’ve done, they can’t be erased. I wish to God they could be, just so that you could look at me like you loved me again.”

You sucked in a shaky breath, tears falling down your face as you realized he almost took your life. And the worst part is…you still loved him. So  you picked up the plate and the fork, sniffled, and started eating.


anonymous asked:

Pls Zarkon with embarrassing garlan old people virus like the slippies with the alteans

Zarkon sneezed.

The three guards behind him promptly dove for the floor as the hardened plates of his carapace shot into the wall like launched knives, and they glanced at each other with dread.

The Sovereign? 

With Shedding Flu?

In the middle of a war?

Oh, this could be a problem.

Surely it couldn’t actually be the Shedding Flu, the healers protested. The Sovereign was far too young. There had been no exposure. It was the wrong season. 

And yet when one healer nearly lost a hand to another carapace plate, it could only be agreed on.

Somehow, someway the Sovereign of the newly christened Galran Empire had come down with the Shedding Flu, and just after he had made enemies after most of the known galaxy.

Intentional contamination was a possibility. Or a curse. After all, the death of the Green Paladin had been broadcast only one Galactic-Acknowledged Week ago. There were many who would want the Sovereign dead, or at least humiliated.

The Druids had swept in to take control of the matter, demanding control of both the healing measures and the interrogations.

It had been a short-lived affair after that.

Zarkon had been miraculously cured in the matter of a day, and all those who had known of the issue were dead. The Immortal Health of The Sovereign was secure.

Except for very soft whispers in the quietest avenues of the galaxy.

“Did you hear the Galran leader went down with the Shedding Flu right after he had the Green Paladin killed?”

Honey and Spaghetti

It’s @iddayidnight‘s birthday today and so I thought I would write her a little something. Happy Birthday, sweetheart! I hope you like first kisses and pining because that’s what you are about to get!

“What did you just say?” Derek tries to keep his breathing steady, looking at the plate of food he’s dropped on the floor. The plate of spaghetti. His mom is going to kill him.

Stiles doesn’t even hesitate as he asks again, bounding towards Derek to help him pick the pasta up, scooping it back onto the plate carelessly, before shrugging and eating a few strands. Derek grimaces.

Stiles’ motto in life is dirty food deserves a home too. Well, Derek’s never actually heard him say that, but he’s seen Stiles eat food off the cafeteria floor, okay? He’s pretty sure his gravestone will read ‘Stiles Stilinski: loving son and friend, died of unnecessary food poisoning due to his unsanitary habits’. Okay, so it probably won’t say that, but even so, the point still-

“I want you to kiss me.”


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  • 隼人の怪談

Hayato’s Scary Story 
On one summer night, I was staying over at a mountain resort for training camp. That day, it was raining and the weather was sweltering hot. Since I couldn’t sleep, I stepped out from my room into the hallway to get a glass of water… when I suddenly heard a loud crash of glass. Then… immediately after that, I heard screams of…
[imitating ARAKITA] “Don’t die, Fuku-chaan!”
[imitating TOUDOU] “You mustn’t die, Fuku!”
so I ran towards the voices, wondering what was going on. There… I found Juichi lying on the ground of his room on the second floor with broken plates scattered around him! …Juichi was practicing plate spinning but made a mistake and the plate hit him smack in the forehead. Man, even I was surprised!

From Yomecolle. They added new cards for Shinkai, including conversation cards between him and Izumida and Tadokoro. I’m slowly unlocking them. Please help if you’d like to fulfill my wish list. ^^;

I ❤ NY

Diana’s childhood settlement was absolutely riddled with the iconic “I ❤ NY” logo. It was inescapable. Items ranging from the mundane to the bizarre, almost every home had mugs, plates, floor mats, keychains, and other prewar curios bearing the logo. Even the exterior wasn’t safe. Walls were covered in signs and peeling “I ❤ NY” stickers, houses and shops were patched and decorated with commemorative license plates. One store even had an “I ❤ NY” toilet lid swinging from a post out front.

Many of these interesting items were recovered from the ruins of New York City itself by brave explorers, scavengers, and traders. Diana’s parents themselves sold heaps of the memorabilia while they were alive.

Diana brought several such items with her to the Commonwealth as small reminders of home.

  • A small, plastic keychain - a gift from her brother - clinks against her keys on a keyring.
  • Two mugs.
  • A hat.
  • A few shirts.
  • A roll of bumper stickers. She has used them sparingly.
  • The commemorative “I ❤ NY” license plate welded to the back paneling of her protectron, SAMCU.

* I know the I ❤ NY logo wasn’t made until 1977, but I really don’t think it’s unrealistic to include in the Fallout verse. Let me have fun.

** Possibility of more items being added in the future if deemed fit or fun.


initial_showroom_floorplate_modelling_06/02/17 - After last weeks tutorial, the feedback was to begin adding detail to the spaces within my current iteration. This is my initial modelling of the showroom space, specifically the floor plate.

The plane consists of 30 strips of thick silicone, a material with high elastic potential, creating a flexibility and sturdyness simultaneously. The grippy texture of the material also creates a viable plane for both sitting and standing. Each of these strips had a run of 12 pistons that run beneath. Each piston can be controlled independantly and they push the rubber strip up, creating various levels and subsequently a dynamic space. I have modelled each piston myself using online images as references to create a relalistic, yet functional feature.

As a result, an entirely dynamic and fluctuating space is created. Whether there is an auction (as shown above), or a car show (where the strips would raise in such a way that cars can drive up on a platform and be shown off as people walk around). The pistons are semi-translucent so as they move up and down, people can see the oil etc. being pumped around, engaging the inner mechanic.

The rubber will be white, so during car shows, as people show off and burn out, they leave rubber marks across the strips, creating a dynamic aesthetic that evolves with each car.

The above setup (setup.01) is designed for auctions, the cars enter the space from tower.01 and are surrounded by onlookers on bleachers mirroring that at ‘demolition derby’ racetracks, where spectators can sit or stand.

This floorplate will sit on the top floor of the permanent structure at the base of tower.01. The dynamic space becomes a spectacle, for both internal and external observation.

This model is only half completed as pistons have only been designed for one of the halfs. The next stage is to design and demonstrate various other setups dependant on situations within the space. The space will then begin to dictate the external architecture of the permanent structure.


Marie Tharp and the Mid-Atlantic Ridge

In honor of International Women’s Day and the beginning of Women’s History Month, we thought some of our favorite female geologists deserved a shout out. One of my personal favorites is this girl, Marie Tharp, who did something very important for our modern understanding of geology—she discovered the Mid-Atlantic Ridge.


The Ford “Ole Yeller” Mustang

Ford Motor Company has created the most track-ready and road-legal Ford Mustang to benefit Experimental Aircraft Association’s youth education programs, including the Young Eagles. The aviation-inspired Ford “Ole Yeller” Mustang will be donated and sold via auction at the Gathering of Eagles charity event – the ninth straight year Ford has donated a car – on July 28, at EAA AirVenture Oshkosh 2016, the World’s Greatest Aviation Celebration.

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It was early in the morning and Dakota was the only one in, both baking and running orders. Thankfully there was only one person in at the moment so he didn’t have to do so much as he slowly woke up. He hummed, smiling brightly as he came out with a coffee and a scone as the other had wanted, or at least he thinks they wanted that, he could have made a mistake in writing it down while he was so tired. He walked towards the other, starting to doubt himself and ‘oh god, what if he got their order wrong and--’ none of that really mattered anyway as he stepped on his shoelace, stumbling back and falling on his bum, coffee splashing over his front and the scone landing on the floor with the plate shattered to bits. He hissed as the hot substance burnt him and his bum smarted a bit with the impact. He blinked his eyes open from where he had squeezed them shut in the process, noticing he was right in front of the customer. “oops.” he chuckled sheepishly.

Starkiller Science: Chapter 2

Summary:  You’ve finally moved into your new apartment on the Starkiller base’s orbiting satellite, and your day has been terrible because moving is a pain in and of itself.  But wait!  It gets worse before it gets better.  At least you finally meet some other people onboard.

Ships: Kylo Ren x reader (eventually)

Word Count: 2547

Boxes. A labyrinth of boxes upon boxes tumbling over other boxes and spilling their contents onto the metal-plated floor.  And then more boxes.  Boxes on the bed.  Boxes on the tiny island of a kitchen table.  Boxes out in the hallway, because my God, what to do with all these damned boxes?

You were still holding onto your cat’s crate when you entered into your brand new apartment on the Starkiller base’s largest orbiting satellite.  It was a relief to finally get inside of your new home, because oh boy had today been shit.

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