First time build motor question

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2024.11.28 16:39 justinp456 First time build motor question

I’ve decided to build my own quad after a year or so of Nazgul cruising. I’m going with the demibot frame with the speedybee f405 v4 stack and walksnail VTX. My question is how do I pick the right motors? It’s suggested by ummagawd to buy their 2306 1800kv motors but I’m wondering if there’s a better option out there. If anybody has any advice or suggestions it would be much appreciated. Thanks!
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2024.11.28 16:39 anonimotv_1 Eu fico indignado

Eu fico indignado com esses kpopers sei lá com se chamam esse cara, que tão fazendo cyber bully com uma criança de 13 anos mano porraaa vai tomar no cú
"E se essa menina vier a se sui ? Oq vcs irão fazer ?" Se eu entendesse de tecnologia eu iria rastrear todos e contar pros pais
Ficam xingando,zombando da aparência de uma criança de 13 anos só pq ela não de Jimin "aiinn bora cancelar essa tonta de 13 anos só pq ela não gosta do meu ideol buaaa buaaa, foda-se se ela pode eventualmente se sui" eu odeio kpops
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2024.11.28 16:39 PetitHannah just me being goofy

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2024.11.28 16:39 StylisticNightmare Australien verbietet Zugang zu sozialen Medien für unter Sechzehnjährige

→ F ▪︎ A ▪︎ Z
Wie findet ihr das? 🤔
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2024.11.28 16:39 botrocket she's always saying thank u next at the crosswalk

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2024.11.28 16:39 Solid-Emergency-588 These kinds of buyers...

These kinds of buyers... I'm sure we've all dealt with this kind of buyer... I'm just trying to break even! Only got it the other day..
https://preview.redd.it/2fiezjjb7o3e1.png?width=573&format=png&auto=webp&s=034ef67b10c689fd803f4907d2cf10ed28b6973d
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2024.11.28 16:39 Weak-Committee-823 My drawing of Kabuto

My drawing of Kabuto submitted by Weak-Committee-823 to Naruto [link] [comments]

2024.11.28 16:39 parishhills Are energy drinks bad for your heart?

Are energy drinks bad for your heart? submitted by parishhills to daddyistheissue [link] [comments]

2024.11.28 16:39 HermanNeerman Texas Takes Wall Street Titans To Court Over Alleged Coal Cartel

Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton has initiated a federal antitrust lawsuit against major asset management firms BlackRock Inc. (NYSE: BLK), State Street Corporation (NYSE: STT), and Vanguard Group. The suit alleges that these firms conspired to manipulate energy markets by reducing coal production, leading to increased energy costs for consumers.
Paxton asserts that this collaboration constitutes a “stunning violation of State and federal law.”
https://thedeepdive.ca/texas-takes-wall-street-titans-to-court-over-alleged-coal-cartel/
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2024.11.28 16:39 weedmanl adema?

adema? submitted by weedmanl to Growing [link] [comments]

2024.11.28 16:39 ggskater Hey, dada, pup pup wants inside

Hey, dada, pup pup wants inside submitted by ggskater to greatpyrenees [link] [comments]

2024.11.28 16:39 DynastyNerdsOfficial 2025 Running Back Rankings | NFL Draft | Top 20 Rookie RBs

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2024.11.28 16:39 Kamrat_I De vet va de gjorde

De vet va de gjorde submitted by Kamrat_I to unket [link] [comments]

2024.11.28 16:39 Kamrat_I De vet va de gjorde

De vet va de gjorde submitted by Kamrat_I to unket [link] [comments]

2024.11.28 16:39 Cha0sengulfsme Why did you have to go

This time last year I told you I wanted to die. You said who doesn’t. I laughed. Then you helped me through it. My stupid brain is at it again, and I’m trying—IM TRYING SO HARD— to keep going, not dwell in my thoughts… it’s not working. Why did you have to die before me.
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2024.11.28 16:39 Puzzleheaded-Earth61 Mother/daughter trip, March, few questions

I'm taking my mother on vacation for a week in March. She is 70 and dealing with a shoulder issue, so I'm looking for advice for some gentle adventures. We both love to snorkel. We will eat about anything and would like to try foods leaning towards Ital (but will definitely try jerk while we're there). We are not big drinkers. And we love local culture and avoid tourist traps. I'm hoping to avoid renting a car and having to deal a lot with making arrangements for transportation. We are kind of nerds and would enjoy a good history tour along with a guided nature experience with people who know a lot and are passionate. We definitely want to snorkel at least three or four times but are not planning to bring our own gear.
I like the idea and theory of an all-inclusive and not having to make a lot of plans and decisions... But it doesn't seem worth it if we are not big drinkers and not interested in generic luxury accommodations.
Based on what I've read so far, we're thinking Negril or maybe Treasure Beach area.
Can you recommend accommodations that are close to restaurants with concierge services who could arrange snorkeling and culture tours, transportation, etc? Bonus points if it's locally owned.
Thanks!
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2024.11.28 16:39 Vegetable-Matter-707 Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Let's lose a zero..🧙‍♂️🪄

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2024.11.28 16:39 secondarystructure Friday Prunus puzzle

Hi, just hoping to pinpoint which phytochemical/s in stone fruit (cherries, apricots, plums and peaches) would be responsible for giving someone a furuncle (so much more fun to say than “boil”) ~24hr after eating it? Person is middle aged and has had this response since childhood. They don’t chew the seed so it’s probably not cyanide-related. Don’t know if it’s worth mentioning that almonds are fine? and weirdly prunes aren’t an issue either, while other preserved stone fruits are (e.g., canned peaches, dried apricots, cherry ripe).
-Does this sound like an intolerance? -Could it be a synergistic effect on hepatic or renal function which packages stubborn molecules for cutaneous excretion (not sure this can happen but it’s possible)? -What about ROS-scavenging? Any breakdown products that need dumping? And they’re chelators too. -There are also phenolic compounds with antimicrobial properties (I only found in vitro studies) that were active against staph; the alleged boil-dweller. Don’t know how it would annoy the staph, or why just the one boil, but you never know.
I tried comparing each relevant compound I came across (narrowed Prunus to cherries, for ease) against other fruits’ content values and couldn’t find anything that it absolutely flogged at. Perhaps it’s a magic combination rather than one heavy lifter.
If anyone has any informed hunches or simply wants to add to my spitball pile: welcome :D
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2024.11.28 16:39 Sharabha-Studio [HORROR] Japan Pavilion

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ctwz9KYA9qM&t=362s
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2024.11.28 16:39 LegallyBlonde2024 Should I get barred on North Carolina?

I was sworn into NY in October and live in NY.
Unfortunately, my health is slowly slowly declining and I need to start looking at transplant centers for transplant evaluation. One of the centers I woukd be looking at is Duke.
I'm trying to figure out if I need to be barred in NC because the process can take over a year. Or am just able to work remotely? My job is hybrid, but I don't know if I'll be able to ask to be remote during this time.
I'm hoping I have to take care for this next year instead of the upcoming year, but now I'm not too sure.
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2024.11.28 16:39 No-Character2290 What is your rant for this year?

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2024.11.28 16:39 LordDunn How is my opening chapter?

So I've been writing for over a decade now (never published) and this novel I'm writing is proving to be quiet difficult. Probably because its quite different from what I normally write (and read). This is the opening chapter to a slow, dark, uncanny novel. I've already written a rough draft, and this is the start of the second draft. I basically want to know if this chapter captures the mood of what I am wanting to write and whether it is enough for you to continue reading. Any critique welcome
There was something wrong with the castle.
Lord Elstan Dara sat atop his horse at the crest of a hill and stared as Castle Myndes breached the morning fog. He had been smiling when he first spotted the dark walls and slender towers and squat keeps, a smile so wide and true that his cheeks burned in the chill, but that smile died for the castle was wrong.
The fog swirled and twisted, and more of the castle came to his eyes. He spotted red, no, not red - crimson and carmine. His eyes squirmed at towers the colour of jutting bone, of a network of maddening walls made of black brick and red, pinkish mortar. A round tall keep, the shade of necrotic, yet blood stained flesh, its towering spires lost in the depths of the sky, dominated the centre of the castle. The place that he had always imagined being empty save for a courtyard of gardens and sculptured hedges. The keep was of no architecture he had ever seen or could even prescribe. The buttress like elements curved upon themselves and the side walls bloomed leaf-shaped struts; all the shade of diluted blood. Some parts of it were gold, but it bared no pattern nor meaning and then he realised it was not gold at all, but yellow. The sort of yellow a man had when his liver died.
His heart clenched as he absorbed more of its features. Its presence emanating that things greater than mere Lords and Ladies, Kings and Queens had once resided within. A site for which something beyond had taken audience and residence so long ago. His body knew what it was now and why such things had been omitted from his family’s tales and papers, but still his mind refused to believe.
Lord Elstan looked away, for he felt if he continued to look, he’d find the urge to tear out his eyes. His hands were shaking. Then for a moment he thought they were not his. Too large and round. His memory tinged with the man he used to be. He rubbed his brow and exiled the thoughts. He ate a pastry and savored the flaking sweetness. But soon that succour was gone, for his mind returned to the castle. He looked down at the horse between his legs and saw that it was none the wiser to its rider’s woe. The castle was wrong. So terribly wrong. He sucked in air and felt its cold hands reach down his throat. Then he looked up and stared.
The fog seemed no longer like it dared to touch the structure sitting upon the high hill ahead. It swarmed grey and white and surrounded all things bar the castle and the line of sight Elstan took. A feeling of shattered of reality came to him and he was sure the only things that existed in the cosmos at this point in time was him and the castle. For a moment, he believed he was dreaming, and that his sleeping form was back upon the isle and this occurrence was nothing more than the fevered lusts of an emancipated man. The idea of that made his heart clench and chest tight and his stomach growl. No. It could not be. For his own sanity’s sake - this must be real. Yet there was no banishing this feeling of the world evaporating around him and the castle. Even his laden breaths came quiet and slow. Even the fog’s swirling march came to an end and all things stood still. But not his mind. Not his thoughts. Not his rampant need to rationalise the thing before him.
Beyond the castle that arose within his family’s ancient home was the true castle he expected to see. The one he had imagined from his father’s and grandsire’s tales and the one he had seen in paintings and papers and maps. It was only marred with this unbidden structure; a tumour unforeseen. Lynn’s Keep arose grey and wide and even from this distance he could make out the minute details of windows and statues and gargoyles that lined its walls. He knew it contained the Pale Throne and the Ancestor Hall. Both things part of the mythic nature of his House, and both things that would play a part in restoring its pride and rightful place in the world. He ignored the fact that the red keep he had seen before dwarfed this one into insignificance and the style of construction made it look primitive and melded by lesser minds.
He moved on and saw a cerulean shard. An elegant tower that rose higher than any other. Any other of the castle that should have been there, not the one that should not have been. It was the Storm Tower. He smiled for he could see its shattered peak and he recalled his grandsire’s tale of a Dara mage that had summoned the lightning and discovered a secret Gate.
Finally, glittering like a jewel, he spotted the Myndes Library. Its roof made entirely of glass. So said that over ten thousand panes were blown and formed just for that roof; looking at it now, he could believe it. Inside laid the knowledge and wisdom of House Dara and the North. Not too long ago it had been a place of pilgrimage for all would-be scholars and learned folk; the Dara’s are known for their ancient texts. So much so that the Old Church had bled themselves to try and see them burned.
But that was a long time ago. Things had changed. The Old Church was gone and House Dara was not what it was. Yet the latter he would see returned to its rightful glory. Regardless of the thing that leeched upon his home.
The feeling of stoppered time and isolation went. He was drenched in sweat; it covered him like second skin. The winter sun speared the fog and washed it aside. Golden light bled from the sky and revealed all of Castle Myndes and Myndes Town beyond. Yet he still felt as if something was missing despite something unexpected being there.
He heard hooves. Many of them. Voices too.
Oh by Turl, she is not going to like this, he thought and a sudden blustering hatred of all things sallied his mind. He imagined snapping his wife’s neck. The vitriol of the image made him choke.
Oh Turl, please forgive me. I am not that man…
He turned his horse and saw the train of his retinue coming along the path that had taken him up the hill. At the fore, unmounted for she was frightened of horses, was his wife. She was brown skinned and darkly haired. She was bone thin and wore a dress completely inadequate for the northern weather, hence the thick cloak that she covered herself with. Her face was twisted. Elstan knew that look.
Pretend…he thought…just fucking pretend.
“That’s not what it looked like in the paintings you showed me…” her voice whined and cracked.
“Salura please…It is called Castle Myndes for a reason.”
She blinked and he knew her well enough that her mind was trying to figure out if she had missed something even though she knew she had not. He did not like to manipulate her like this, but what else was there to do?
“Castle Myndes?” she said it in a whispered word as if she just figured out what it meant. “You mean…you mean…you knew that you were taking us to live in the middle of a Lychen Ruin?”
And there it was. The utterance of something he had been trying to avoid.
A Lychen Ruin. The seat of one of the King’s of Hell. A malign mass within in family’s ancient hold.
Salura did not stop, her voice was swift and fast with an avian shriek, “And this is no mere ruin, Elstan. It is an entire castle…I never knew something like it existed. Whydidyourpaintingsnotshowit!”
Elstan climbed from his mount and landed heavy. He came to his wife and outstretched his arms without touching her, offering an embrace. He knew all too well her disregard for unannounced touching. Her twisted face, softened and her plain features returned. She fell into him.
“I know it is a lot,” he whispered as carriages and carts and servants passed them. “I can only imagine my family did not wish to advertise what their legendary home contained.”
“You did not know.”
It was not a question but it was not accusatory either.
“I did not. But I suspected.” A blatant lie. One he knew she’d believe.
“I don’t understand, Elstan. I just don’t understand…it is so wrong. Why is it still here? There are many Lychen Ruins across the lands, but none so intact as this and so close to people too. Why did your family not tear it down? Why did they build around it?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps they wanted to show what it was that they defeated…”
She pushed him away. Her tolerance for touch dissipated like the earlier fog.
“It is wrong, Elstan. The castle is wrong.”
“What do you mean its wrong!” the all-too-familiar voice of a child, pierced his ears and made him jolt. “What do you mean? What do you mean?”
Elstan spotted Tolek, their six year old son, crouching amidst the snow dappled weeds. He stood up now, hands to his head and thrashed backwards and forwards. He screamed, his eyes bulging and drool rolling down his chin.
“Why is it different! Why! Why! Why!”
Elstan looked away. The festered castle ahead was a greater sight than his youngest son. Salura ran to the boy and Elstan heard the inevitable struggle. Salura screamed for the nanny, and she came clambering forth. Yet Tolek put up a fight; Salura and the nineteen stone nanny were huffing and puffing by time they managed to get Tolek away. Then all things went silent.
The boy will be sedated, he thought, forcing himself to feel calm. Salura will see to it. She will not allow him to ruin my homecoming.
As he returned to his mount, he spotted another figure atop a white mare that stared at the castle from the base of the hill. The figure was milky skinned and more appropriately dressed. His hair hung lose and waved like a blackened banner. For a moment, Elstan thought it was a stranger, an elderly man seeking to join his train, but then he regained control of his addled thoughts and approached the boy.
“Delaren?” Elstan called out when he neared.
His bastard son did not move nor make any gesture as to display his hearing. Elstan blinked and ushered his mount closer. He drew beside the bone-white youth and looked into his gazing, opalescent eyes.
“Delaren?” he said again.
Nothing.
Elstan scratched his beard then reached out and turned his son’s cheek towards him. There was resistance, strong enough Elstan was bound to use substantial force, but it worked. Delaren’s gaze was torn off the castle and the boy jolted and gasped. He blinked a hundred times and rubbed at his temple.
“My lord,” he said, flushed. “I am sorry, I was lost in my own thoughts for a moment.”
“Is it the Gates?” Elstan asked, trying not to allow his eagerness to show.
“I…I am not sure…”
Elstan nodded. His mage-born son was late in opening his Gates. Though mage-borns are more than rare, it was well known that they’d at least have discovered their magic by the age of nine. Delaren was nearing nineteen and there wasn’t a day that went by that Elstan was disappointed that his son, bastard or not, had not found his Gates. But he tried not to let it show. He rubbed the boy’s shoulder and smiled.
“There’s still time. When we are settled in, we shall see what our ancestors had cooked up in that library of theirs’. Perhaps that will shed some light on your struggle.”
Delaren nodded, “I’ll leave no book unopened, my lord…But there is something else.”
“What?”
He gestured at the castle and Elstan lingered before looking.
“What is it I am supposed to see?”
“At the southern wall…not the Lychen one. The true one. There’s a tower.”
Elstan narrowed his eyes. He did a see a tower. He was unsure of how he had not spotted it before. It was tall and made of clean, straight stone. It occupied an area of wall that contained little else. It was not supposed to be there though, yet it was not part of the red tendrils of stone. This tower was new and odd in its own right. Its peak was domed with a raised section of tiles running along its center.
“What in Turl’s name is that?” Elstan said, a heat rushing to his face. “Did Grolath do this?”
“I presume so. But I think its an observatory, my lord,” he was smiling. “I’m not sure yet, but it would greatly help in my learning.”
“He dared to build upon my family’s home?” Elstan said, his fists clenched. “I’ll have it torn down and ground into sand.”
“Father please!”
Elstan breathed in, he face was sweltering. He wiped at it with hand and looked to his son.
“It will help me.”
“This is our family’s home, boy,” Elstan growled the words. “The Dara’s built every part of this castle. Every brick. I’ll not tolerate this defilement.”
“At least keep the equipment then,” his crystal eyes looked so unplaced to be begging, more held within the skull of a sorcerer king. “And rebuild the observatory with Dara hands.”
“I apologise, my son,” Elstan sighed and nodded. “I am vexed easily. This…this homecoming is not going as I expected.”
“You did not expect the Lychen Ruins.”
Elstan shook his head; his son was a good reader of features, “No I did not. Did you?”
“It is unsettling.”
“That is an understatement. I think your stepmother handled it well, considering her temperament. But that is a debt I am doomed to eventually pay,” he rubbed his chin, then narrowed his eyes. “Anyway, you do not seem surprised?”
Delaren shrugged, “I don’t know what I am. I suppose it should not be surprising. House Dara named the castle after the Lych that dominated these lands. That, in itself, is odd. But to leave the old, evil structure, the building that held the true aspect of despair and ruin behind, and then build around it? Was it a message? A showing that the Dara’s helped defend the world from the Lyches? I do not know, but I now know why the Old Church despised the Dara’s though.”
This was the boy, Elstan knew. The inquisitive thinker and he was please that they had come to the same conclusion.
“Our family always had quarrels with the Old Church. This must be another dimension of that,” Elstan said, his stomach starting to growl. “Anyway, the train has gotten ahead of us. Let’s ride and see our home.”
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2024.11.28 16:39 Ok-Apple-1878 Where’s Baxter?

Kinda in a funny way, because she’s been needing to take her meds for a while now, but in all seriousness where’s Baxter at?? Shouldn’t she be taking him on her “well-deserved” holidays?
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2024.11.28 16:39 MinuteLoss3247 BOMB mv/ Vultures AI analysis

Ye’s use of AI in Vultures audio and videos isn’t a celebration of the technology—it’s a conceptual critique of the voyeuristic facade of our digital realties. Post-2013, his work has transcended traditional artistic forms, rejecting linear perspective for holistic, embodied experiences.By using AI, he amplifies its consuming and artificial nature, exposing it as a medium bound to shallow imitations rather than true reality. The medium is the message. This requires a level of distancing as an audience (alienation effect).
AI and VR technology evoke André Bazin’s prophetic “myth of total cinema,” the fantasy of a medium that can perfectly replicate reality. Film/video becomes obsolete by technology in our post-digital world. So Ye magnifies AI’s artifice, creating surreal and hyperreal visuals that feel intentionally fragmented. This forces us to confront the emptiness of digital facades. Like Jean Baudrillard’s simulacrum, Ye’s AI work reveals that these representations are not reality—they are detached illusions, disconnected from the embodied and eternal.
Vultures is deeply rooted in symbolism. The virtual realm represents what is UNCLEAN—temporary, shallow, and destined for destruction, burned by the fire. In contrast, true artistry and humanity, grounded in divine embodiment, are CLEAN and preserved for new creation. The voyeuristic nature of AI and virtual reality, which promises connection while dehumanizing and isolating, is exposed as a hollow replacement. Vultures on feast the dead, where a carcass lies they gather. This is an apocalyptic call to reject the artificial and seek the eternal. “I did not come to bring peace, but a sword.”
Also, Happy Thanksgiving !🦃
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2024.11.28 16:39 soccerorfootie Real wages have only increased about $3 per hour since the early 1970s, per Bloomberg.

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https://yandex.ru/