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ailice-zhang · 1 year ago

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Corrugated board: a versatile packaging solution

In the modern logistics and packaging industry, corrugated cardboard is a widely used multi-functional packaging material. It is lightweight, environmentally friendly, and durable, providing flexible and reliable packaging solutions for all walks of life. This article will take an in-depth look at the characteristics, production processes and applications of corrugated cardboard in different fields.

1. Characteristics and advantages of corrugated cardboard

Corrugated cardboard is composed of corrugated core paper between a layer of paper and a layer of textured paper. It has the following main features and advantages:

- Lightweight and environmentally friendly: Corrugated cardboard is mainly made of paper, which is lighter and easier to handle than other packaging materials such as wood or plastic. At the same time, the paper can be recycled, making it an environmentally friendly packaging solution.

- Durable and compression-resistant: Corrugated cardboard provides good compressive strength through the structure of the corrugated core paper, which can withstand heavy pressure and stacking and protect the packaging from damage. This makes corrugated cardboard a reliable choice for packaging and shipping a variety of products.

- Good buffering performance: The corrugated core paper of corrugated cardboard can effectively absorb and cushion, preventing damage caused by vibration, shock and shock to the packaging during transportation. This makes corrugated cardboard widely used in protecting fragile and high-value items.

- Production flexibility: Corrugated cardboard can be flexibly designed and produced according to packaging needs. By adjusting the density of the corrugated core paper, the thickness of the surface paper, and the combination method, different requirements such as strength, waterproofness, and damping properties can be achieved.

2. Manufacturing process of corrugated cardboard

The production process of corrugated cardboard is somewhat complex and mainly includes the following steps:

- Corrugated core paper production: Corrugated core paper is formed by squeezing and producing textured paper through the forming rollers of the corrugating machine. The selection of textured paper and the forming process have an important impact on the quality of cardboard.

- Tissue paper bonding: Lay the tissue paper on both sides of the corrugated core paper, and use adhesive materials such as hot melt glue or water-based adhesive to bond them together. The amount and uniformity of the adhesive need to be controlled during the bonding process.

- Finished product cutting and folding: Cut corrugated cardboard into desired size and shape as needed. Common cutting methods include manual cutting and automatic cutting machinery. The cardboard is then folded into the desired structure or shape according to the requirements of the product packaging.

- Printing and Decoration: Depending on the brand identity and needs, corrugated cardboard can be printed and decorated to enhance the appearance and appeal of the product. Common printing methods include screen printing, flexographic printing and digital printing.

3. Applications of corrugated cardboard in different fields

Corrugated cardboard has a wide range of applications in various industries. Here are some common application areas:

- Food industry: As one of the main materials for food packaging, corrugated cardboard is widely used in cartons, trays, paper bags and other packaging. It protects the freshness and quality of food and provides good water and moisture resistance.

- Electronic products industry: Corrugated cardboard is used for packaging and transportation of electronic products, such as televisions, refrigerators, washing machines and other large home appliances. It provides good cushioning and compression resistance to protect products from damage during transportation.

- E-commerce industry: With the rapid development of e-commerce, corrugated cardboard plays an important role in express delivery and parcel transportation. It is used to make various cartons and cabinets to provide safe and reliable transportation protection for products.

- Wine and beverage industry: As a packaging material for wine and beverages, corrugated cardboard can provide good compression resistance and shock-proof properties to ensure that the product is not damaged during transportation and storage.

- Furniture and home furnishing industry: Corrugated cardboard is widely used in the inner packaging and protection of furniture and home products. It provides cushioning and compression resistance, protecting the surface and structural integrity of the product.

As a multifunctional packaging material, corrugated cardboard plays an important role in the modern logistics and packaging industry. It is lightweight, environmentally friendly, durable, pressure-resistant and has good cushioning properties, providing flexible and reliable packaging solutions for products in different industries. Through precise manufacturing processes and personalized designs, corrugated cardboard can meet various packaging needs and provide product safety protection and visual appeal. With the development of the logistics and packaging industries, the application prospects of corrugated cardboard will continue to expand, bringing more possibilities to product packaging in various industries.

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triroundbars · 2 years ago

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Application and Uses of SS Black Round Bar

Stainless Steel Black Bars Specification includes Size in the range of 3.17mm to 350 mm diameter, Length from 4 meters to 6 meters, Tolerance of DIN 671, ASTM A484 & as per customer’s specific requirements, Finish of Bright, Black, Polish, Cold drew, Centerless Ground, and Polished Form. NACE MR0175/ISO 15156 is the standard by which we produce black bars.

It can be precisely said that SS Black Bars are among the core elements of any manufacturing industry or, so far as that is concerned, any business that depends on machinery. Due to the versatility of its applications, ASTM A276 Stainless Steel Black Bar is used in a wide variety of industries, including shipbuilding, defense, automotive, textiles, paper and pulp, fabrication, cement, heavy earth moving equipment, as well as construction, among others.

In general, stainless steel black bars come in different shapes like flat, round, hexagonal, and square, but it is mainly the form of the rod that determines its application space. The applications and the uses of steel bars differ depending on the type and size that they come in. In addition to being an ISO-certified and PED-approved company, Triroundbar.com is one of the best Duplex Steel Black Bar Suppliers and Super Duplex Steel Black Bar Exporters in India and other countries such as Nigeria, Malaysia, France, Canada, Egypt, Gabon, Germany, Czech Republic, Azerbaijan, Nepal, Ecuador, Turkey, Libya, Sweden, Jordan, Sri Lanka, Denmark, etc. The company offers innovation, quality, and service in the form of a durable and attractive product that symbolizes excellence.

Triroundbar.com offers an affordable price per kg for SS UNS S31703 Round Bars in India, available in all ranges and sizes with a quick delivery option. The large pieces are packaged loosely, while the larger ones are safely covered in plastic woven bags and made suitable for lifting operations. Packaged in bundles of strong hexagonal steel bars, large pieces are packaged loosely. As per the customer’s request, these items are loaded into a 40ft or 20ft container as per their specifications.

SS Black Round Bar:

A stainless steel Black round bar is one of the most important components of the machining business. Stainless steel Black round bars can be easily cut and machined into tools, which is why they are used to make machine components as well as automobile components. Stainless steel Black round bars are widely used for machining, fasteners, grills, and other types of products because of their excellent corrosion resistance. We, at Triroundbar.com, are one of the leading manufacturers and suppliers of stainless steel round Black bars in India. As a result of these calcium-treated bars having free-machining grades, they are able to be machined more quickly and for longer periods of time.

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jadedwolf18-blog · 2 years ago

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I had to! Please enjoy my first ever snippet I’ve ever posted on anything.

💚🤍🖤💙

Tim

Tim had noticed the Joker had been acting strange around him. It was small barely notable in the beginning. Tim had brushed it off as the Joker’s irritation with the fact that, not only had he managed to go against his ‘conditioning’ and special joker venom but had shot him killed him. How did he come back?! It was easy to ignore.

But it’s been years three but now in the last month it’s gotten weirder. The Joker flinches when he sees him, in and out of suit sometimes even going out of his way to avoid him or out right ignoring him completely. It’s gotten to the point where even the other Bats have noticed. Tim had out right asked the Joker why he was acting this way as he was being placed in the squad car. The reaction was not what they were expecting.

The Joker had stared at him before laughing it was not his usual laugh it was hollow and tinged with the type of hysteria that could only come from someone who wanted to deny the truth. Before he cut himself off and looked Tim dead in the eye “She only gave me one, I gave him away. Kicked one out the nest to raise the other and the man who raised you was nothing more than a fool who was tricked by a kookaburra. Perhaps you should search your old nest little bird.”

He was shoved into the car as his cackles rang down the street. His words sending chills down Tim’s spine. Tim jump as a heavy hand came to rest on his shoulder. The weight was comforting but the chill remained. When he got back to the cave.

Tim ignored everyone and headed straight for the board he was using to investigate the new meta, that could possibly be a clone and stared at the picture of a boy that was identical to him with three notable differences his eyes were a little to wide and alert, smile to big and a little to sharp. Lastly the almost toxic green strip of hair that streaked through his bangs that perpetually covered his right eye. Against his will, the dots began to connect.

Tim ran. He didn’t bother changing. Hadn’t Even removed his domino. He ran and ran, ignoring the shouts of his family could he still call them that. Would they still care about him? What about the other? Can he be trusted or will he join their fa-sperm donor? Tim’s mind raced faster than he ran. He grappled over the wall that separated Wayne Manor and the Drake Estate.

Crashed through the doors and up to his mother’s study. He didn’t care if he made a mess, he tore through shelves, drawers, desks until he knocked over a bookshelf in pure rage/desperation/and fear of what? That his conclusion was true. That he’ll find proof? He looked up, there, barely noticeable but it was a clear cut square in the wallpaper, it was glued back but just skew enough to see if you were looking.

And Tim was looking. He scrambled up and used a birdarang to tear it open. What he found froze him in place. He read though the pages over and over and collapsed to his knees as he continued to read again and again and again hoping begging anyone who could hear or would listen that it wasn’t true.

That how his family, the bats, found him. Tears streaming down his face, near silent manic, desperate laughter slipping from his lips as he stared at the papers in his hand.

Batman stared at the boy he came to view as a son. The same boy who was now overlapped with the image of a younger Tim in the same position, the same expression of pain, fear, desperation as has nowfrom three years ago ironically to the day after just shooting the Joker having fought past the Joker venom and conditioning torture going against the pain in order to save Batman from the Jokers machinations.

*****

Danny

Danny looked up from his phone. The feelings of angerpainconfusionsadnessbetrayalfear was so strong he had to close his eyes to hide the flash of green and calm himself. It was coming from the one his core was leading him to.

He didn’t know who they were or why his core was so adamant on finding them and protecting them but he new it was the same urge that guided him to Danielle when she needed help. To his friends, his family. Did he have another clone?

Regardless he was restless. He didn’t know them and that made it difficult to find them in such a big city. He opened his eyes and stared out in the direction he could feel the emotions coming from.

Taking a long sip of his 10th Death Wish *snort* coffee he finished it in one go. Eyes never blinking as he gathered his belongings and threw away his trash.

He paused at the door and turned to look in the opposite direction. Something there was calling to him but this call was fainter and more a need to destroy whatever it was. With a shrug he left the cafe with a giggle, everyone shuddered at the sound, it was a little to close to a Joker laugh and a Robin’s cackle for comfort. Many moved to the other side of the street to let him pass. He paid them no mind. Lost in thought.

Danny was close to finding the thing he needed to protect. He was excited and intrigued. There was something else in that direction too, something Ghostly but not quite, it was tainted and angry but it was also concernedanxiouslonging he could help them too, he felt them often as they seamed to hang around the one he felt the need to protect, a lot in the month he’d been in the city.

He has a new project to focus on, something to keep his mind off his parents all of them, adoptive and otherwise.

He whistled while he walked down the street, the sound only interrupted by a giggle every now and then, with a skip in his step. He was going to have some fun.

The bats and birds were interesting, so were the rogues. A particular clown was owed a visit but that was for another day Danny still did’t know how to feel about that. Best to shove it in a box at the back of his mind for now. His hatred for clowns not withstanding.

Any good feelings he could have had about THAT situation was smothered by all the badhurtbetralangerdisgust he felt towards the man. He had locked eyes with him once during one of his heists. He’d grinned at the man before walking away and disappearing into the terrified crowd.

He continued his walk, whistling, giggling and swinging his bag on his way to work. Oh yes he was going to have fun. Play with the bats and birds, drag a clown to Justice and enjoy his vacation from his kingly duties. Yes, this is going to be his best vacation. *giggle*

Gotham as a whole felt the sudden need to to hide. None more so than the rogue’s and criminals.

*****

Joker

The Joker broke into sudden crazed laughter, head tilted to the ceiling. Fear rushed through him and the unexplainable feeling of being hunted caused his laugh to crack and shake. It went unnoticed but he new. He did not know how but he knew. Death was in the city and he would not be able to escape it this time.

DC/DP Crossover Idea #1:

Danny is Jokers son: Why? Because it’s funny and I can. Let’s say that he was born around the time before Joker become the Joker and he sent him off to some of his old colleagues because he still cared about him in his own way and Danny at the time was already showing signs that he was becoming like him idk

Everything happens in canon as usual for both ends: Just Danny’s just a little unhinged and laughs at shit he really shouldn’t, he got better at hiding it over the years but sometimes, sometimes it just happens like after he defeats Pariah Dark

At some point, when Batman gives a speech to Joker after Jason’s death about how he would never understand yada yada. Joker tells all too seriously that he does understand: Now Batman is on a mission to find out if a monster could truly have a child

One day, Danny goes to Gotham for whatever fucking reason you pick, and slowly meets the batfam: The funny thing is that he looks like someone’s doubleganger- Tims’ specifically

Why Tim? Well, remember JJ?

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corecutters · 3 years ago

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Krishna Engineering Works a leading Manufacturer, exporter & supplier fully automatic core cutter machine, automatic core cutter machine. Fully automatic machine built for a Fast, precise, and accurate cut with the smallest piece possible or per requirements. Manufacturer of a wide range of products which include core cutter machine, Fully Automatic Core Cutter Machine, pneumatic core paper cutter machine and heavy paper core cutting machine.

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webguidingsystemkew · 3 years ago

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Krishna Engineering Works behaviour on manufacturing and exporting Fully Automatic Paper Core Cutting Machine. Our machines are designed with wide order of standard for long lasting heavy duty process, specially for cutting in different sizes from 12 mm to 1000 mm. Leading Manufacturer of automatic paper core cutter machine, automatic Paper Core Cutting Machine, pneumatic core paper cutter machine, heavy paper core cutting machine, multiple paper core cutter machine and paper core cutter machine etc.

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corecuttingmachine · 3 years ago

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Krishna Engineering works leading manufacturer of Semi-Automatic Core Cutter Machine. Core Cutter is an easy and cost effective way to safely cut cores to a precision length. It works quickly and efficiently without noise or dust. Cutter, instead of manual operation, pneumatic control cutting system gives a stable pressure to have a smooth cutting surface on a 10mm thick paper core. We Are Exporters & Suppliers of Semi-Automatic Core Cutter Machine, Paper Core Cutting Machine, Semi-Automatic Core Cutter Machine, Core Cutting Machine Manufacturer.

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allthingskakashi · 4 years ago

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thigh riding with kakashi maybe👀

OKAY SO idk if this was just a general ask but i was inspired bc Kakashi's thighs get me 🥵🥵 so i wrote a whole fic which I'm not sure you asked for but hope would enjoy nonetheless 😌

And i managed to come up w a satisfactory title too 😌

• Enough Already •

[ Kakashi x Reader]

Words : 2k

Tags : Smut, 18+

You were beginning to get impatient.

You’d been watching Kakashi hunched over his desk, going through piles and piles of paperwork for the past three hours now. Sure, he was the Hokage and you did understand that he had a lot of work to do, but for the past month now it felt like you barely even got to see your own boyfriend. And even when you did, he’d just be nose deep in work and come to bed late every night, only to pass out the moment his back touched the mattress.

And yes, you did understand all of that, but it’d been so long since you’d made love, that even the sight of his bare biceps contracting as he worked right now was getting you hot and heavy.

You sighed, uncrossing your legs on the sofa, and closing shut the book in your hand. You'd been trying to read, but the book you were reading was an erotica and the vivid descriptions playing all sorts of images in your mind only added to your frustration.

Tossing the book onto the table next to you, you got up, making your way to where Kakashi was sitting.

You trod over lightly, coming to a halt at the back of his wooden chair. You stood behind Kakashi, slowly wrapping your arms around his neck, before crouching to plant a feathery kiss on the side of his face and working your way down, your kisses getting slobbery as you went.

You’d almost reached the crook of his neck when his curt voice stopped you. “Y/n. I’m working.” He said, oblivious to your advances and continuing to scribble away.

You stopped, unwrapping your arms and stepping away from him. “Yeah, I can see that.” you replied, not putting any efforts to mask the hurt in your voice, before adding “When are you not” in a low mutter.

Kakashi kept his gaze focused on the papers in front of him, his sharp eyes scanning quickly across the sheets as he worked.

You let out a deliberately loud sigh, hoping to elicit some sort of a reaction from Kakashi. An apology, an acknowledgement, or anything, but much to your disappointment, you found none.

With your mouth formed into a frown, you turned away from him, making your way to the other side of the room as the sound of your footsteps rung a little too loud against the floor.

You were a patient woman, but this was starting to get on your nerves now. All you wanted was for Kakashi to just give you a few hours of his time in a day, that’s all. Working like a machine in the way that he was wasn’t good for him either, and you couldn’t possibly be the only one who missed the times you spent. The passionate nights, the lazy mornings, the afternoons spent in bed like it was your last day on Earth. Surely, he missed them too?

You had to do something.

Your feet stopped near the main switchboard in the living room. Reaching your hand to the board, you quickly flicked off the switch connecting to the air conditioner, before slowly making your way back to the sofa and plopping down on it.

You sat waiting with your arms crossed, jiggling your legs and watching Kakashi carefully out of the corner of your eye, studying him and waiting for any kind of a movement or response.

The minutes drove by and beads of sweat were beginning to form on your forehead now. It was the middle of summer and the air was warm and crisp outside. During day, the streets were so hot you could fry an egg on them. But Kakashi remained glued to the chair, continuing with his work with not so much as a flinch or a sound.

Alright, this was REALLY starting to get on your nerves now.

You stood up swiftly from the sofa, fanning yourself with your hand, before vigorously shaking the neckline of your shirt. “Gee, it’s really hot don’t you think?” you cried out, making sure to enunciate every word as you trudged towards his desk again. But his head was bowed, his focus unfazed.

“Did you hear what I said?” you tried again, walking a little closer and standing by the side of his chair. “I said it’s really hot.”

“Turn the AC on, then” Kakashi replied in a flat tone, without sparing you a glance.

Honestly, he was walking on thin fucking ice now.

You ignored his comment. Clearly, these subtle advances were not working. You had to be more direct.

You stood beside his chair watching him for a moment, admiring the way his long fingers gripped the pen. Just below your line of vision, his Anbu tattoo sat exposed, curved over the bulge of his bicep.

Jeez.

Inching closer to him, you gripped the hem of your t shirt, before slowly pulling it off over your head and throwing it on his face. “Oops, sorry”, you sang, your tone not apologetic in the least.

The thin cloth fell on his head, covering part of his hair and his face. “What do you think you’re doing?” Kakashi said with a certain crisp, before pulling the cloth off his face and balling it into a clump on the desk.

Ridden of your t shirt now, you stood in your black bra. It wasn’t the best one in your collection, but it did give your breasts a good lift.

Batting your eyelashes like you had no idea what he was talking about, you squeezed yourself into the cramped space between his knees and the desk. “Nothing at all.” You said, your tone as innocent as ever as you proceeded to reach under your dress, slowly pulling your panties down to your ankles before kicking them to the side.

Kakashi’s eyes were finally on you, fixated and unreadable.

You held his gaze, not taking your eyes off him as you widened your stance and took a few steps forward, before plopping down on his lap, your legs straddling his thighs.

You watched his pupils narrow, and he tried speaking again. “Y/n, I told you, I have wor—”, but his words were cut off by the touch of your index finger to his lips.

Hooking your finger at the edge of his mask, you pulled it down, revealing his beautiful soft mouth underneath.

All you wanted was to have it run all over your body, but you knew you’d have to work a little more to make that happen. “I don’t care” you said, in a cool, low voice.

Your hands brushed up the sides of his arms, feeling every bulge and curve of his toned muscles before sinking into the softness of his hair at the back of his head.

Pulling lightly on his silver strands, you brought his head forward towards your chest, arching your back to push your breasts into his face, which were now heaving, thanks both to the heat and the pooling wetness down below. You felt the tip of Kakashi’s nose rub against your cleavage, even the smallest contact sending shivers up your spine.

Tightening your grasp around him, you pushed his face deeper as you slowly began to grind your hips against his thighs, your stomach stiffening into knots with the wave of arousal coursing through you. The friction of his pants felt heavenly against your sensitive folds and you continued rubbing yourself over him, pressing yourself on his legs as you moved back and forth.

You could feel Kakashi’s breath hitch against your cleavage as the wetness from your core began to drip to his legs, moistening his pants. He tilted his head back, eyes squeezed shut as a low guttural noise escaped his throat.

Your lips curled into a slow smirk at the sight of him and you leaned forward, holding his face in your hands as you whispered, “Lord Sixth, would you like me to stop?”

But you knew the moment those words rolled off your tongue that you’d edged him on too far. With his head still tilted against the chair, you watched Kakashi open his eyes, his dark eyes burning with the hunger of an animal left in the wild.

In a flash, his hands were on your hips, long fingers gripping your soft skin hard enough to elicit a moan. They travelled to your back next, grabbing your ass as you felt every single finger dig into your skin, squeezing hard.

You melted into his touch instantly, your mind spiralling into a frenzy as he clutched the curves of your waist again, guiding you back and forth on his legs with increasing pace.

Ahead of you, his growing bulge fought beneath the thin material of his pants, forming a distinct mound right below his abdomen.

You bit your lip at the sight, resisting the urge to rid his cock of its clothed prison already, mouth drooling at the thought of your tongue slobbering all over his thick girth. Your body squirmed and you felt pleasure building up at the base of your stomach, as you reached for the waistband of Kakashi’s pants, unable to keep holding yourself off any longer.

With desperate fingers you found the strands of his joggers, going ahead to untie them when suddenly, Kakashi’s palm clasped around your wrist, fingers tight against your bones as he stopped you from going further.

You looked up to find his piercing gaze drilling through you, a smirk curling the corner of his mouth.

“Kakashi…” you purred, your heart thrumming in your ears, “Please…”

His unwavering gaze burned into you, brows raising as though asking you to repeat yourself, when you felt his right hand snaking up your stomach, pushing through the underband of your bra to clasp around your breast. He gave it a hard squeeze, before starting to stroke over it with nimble fingers, his lips parting as he spoke. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

The sound of Kakashi’s raspy voice sent tremors through your body. You squirmed, imploring him with your eyes.

He continued stroking with one hand as the other flew to his mouth, and you watched him lick the tip of his finger, before bringing it down to your other breast, smearing his saliva over your nipple.

“You wanted my time”, he stated, gaze fixed on you while two of his fingers twisted your wet nipple hard, before rubbing around it in circles with his thumb. “I’m giving you my time.”

“Infact…” he said as one of his hands travelled below, fingers finding your folds and grazing along it lightly. “I intend to give you all night.”

A desperate gasp left your lips, your swollen clit beginning to ache under his touch.

“Kakashi…please.” You pleaded again in broken rasps of your voice, struggling to keep your mind from going numb.

Kakashi ignored you again, his fingers continuing their ravage down below as his mouth latched on to one of your nipples, sucking slowly at first, and then as if his life depended on it. He clenched and unclenched his thighs, every contraction of his muscle teasing your clit, making you writhe with the overload of pleasure through your veins.

You moaned with every suck of your nipple, and every flick of his finger, becoming a squirming mess in his hands as you gave yourself in to him completely, losing control of your body.

A grating moan began to form at the back of your throat as you felt yourself getting close, his fingers stretching you up, rubbing, and stroking every part of you.

Kakashi hunched forward, finally pulling away from your swollen nipple, his warm breath tickling your ear as he spoke.

“You’re not tired already, are you?” he asked in an innocent whisper, his fingers moving steadily down below.

Your voice came out in a tiny squeak as you answered, your entire body buzzing. “N-no.”

“Good” Kakashi replied, his voice gravelly against your ear as you finally felt him slip one finger inside you, eliciting an immediate burst of almost inhumane sounds from your chest. “because you won’t be walking out of here any time soon.” He whispered against your shuddering frame, before slipping another finger inside and adding in the same husky tone,

“Or walking at all.”

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lokiondisneyplus · 3 years ago

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A review of “Journey Into Mystery,” the penultimate Loki Season One episode on Disney+, coming up just as soon as I paper cut a giant cloud to death…

Journey Into Mystery was the title of the first Marvel comic to feature either Thor or Loki. It began as an anthology series featuring monsters and aliens, but Jack Kirby, Stan Lee, and Larry Lieber were so smitten with their adaptation of the characters of Norse myth that the Asgardians gradually took over the whole book, which was renamed after its hammer-wielding hero(*).

(*) The early Journey Into Mystery stories treated Thor’s alter ego, disabled Dr. Donald Blake, as the “real” character, while Thor was just someone Blake could magically transform into, while retaining his memories and personality. It wasn’t even clear whether Asgard itself was meant to exist at first, until Loki turned up on Earth in an early issue, caused trouble, and Blake/Thor somehow knew exactly how to get to Asgard to drop him off. Soon, the lines between Thor and Blake began to blur, and eventually Thor became the real guy, and Blake a fiction invented by Odin to humble his arrogant son. It’s a mark of just how instantly charismatic Loki was that the entire title quickly steered towards him and the other gods.

But once upon a time, anything was possible in Journey Into Mystery, which makes it an apt moniker for an absolutely wonderful episode of Loki where the same holds true. Our title characters are trapped in the Void, a place at the end of time where the TVA’s victims are banished to be devoured by a cloud monster named Alioth. And mostly they are surrounded by the wreckage of many dead timelines. Classic Loki insists that his group’s only goal is survival, and any kind of planning and scheming is doomed to kill the Loki who tries. But this ruined, hopeless world instead feels bursting with imagination and possibility.

There are the many Loki variants we see, with President Loki, among others, joining Classic, Kid, Boastful, and Alligator Loki. There are the metric ton of Easter Eggs just waiting to be screencapped by Marvel obsessives (I discuss a few of them down below), but which still suggest a much larger and weirder MCU even if you don’t immediately scream out “Is that… THROG?!?!?” at the appropriate moment. And all of that stuff is tons of fun, to be sure. But what makes this episode — and, increasingly, this series — feel so special is the way that it explores the untapped potential of Loki himself, in his many, many variations.

This is an episode that owes more than a small stylistic and thematic debt to Lost. It’s not just that Alioth looks and sounds so much like the Smoke Monster(*), that it makes a shared Wizard of Oz reference to “the man behind the curtain” (also the title of one of the very best Lost episodes), or even that the core group of Lokis are hiding in a bunker accessible via a hatch and a ladder that’s filled with recreational equipment (in this case, bowling alley lanes). It’s also that Loki, Sylvie, their counterparts, and Mobius have all been transported to a strange place that has disturbing echoes from their own lives, that operates according to strange new rules they have to learn while fleeing danger, and their presence there allows them to reflect on the many mistakes of their past and consider whether they want to, or can, transcend them.

(*) Yes, Alioth technically predates Smokey by a decade (see the notes below for more), but his look has been tweaked a bit here to seem more like smoke than a cloud, and the sounds he makes when he roars sound a lot like Smokey’s telltale taxi cab meter clicks. Given the other Lost hat tips in the episode, I have to believe Alioth was chosen specifically to evoke Smokey.

Classic Loki is aptly named. He wears the Sixties Jack Kirby costume, and he is a far more powerful magician than either Sylvie or our Loki have allowed themselves to be. He calls our Loki’s knives worthless compared to his sorcery, which feels like the show acknowledging that the movies depowered Loki a fair amount to make him seem cooler. But if Classic Loki can conjure up illusions bigger and more potent than his younger peers, he is a fundamentally weak and defeated man, convinced, like the others, that the only way to win the game into which he was born is not to play. “We cannot change,” he insists. “We’re broken. Every version of ourselves. Forever.” It is not only his sentiment — Kid Loki adds that any Loki who tries to improve inevitably winds up in the Void for their troubles — but it seems to have weighed on him longer and harder than most.

But Classic Loki takes inspiration from Loki and Sylvie to stand and fight rather than turn and run, magicking up a vision of their homeland to distract Alioth at a crucial moment in Sylvie’s plan, and getting eaten for his trouble. He was wrong: Lokis can change. (Though Kid Loki might once again argue that Classic Loki’s death is more evidence that the universe has no interest in any of them doing so.) And both Loki and Sylvie have been changing throughout their time together. Like most Lokis, they seem cursed to a life of loneliness. Sylvie learned as a child that a higher power believed she should not exist, and has spent a lifetime hiding out in places where any friends she might make will soon die in an apocalypse. Our Loki’s past isn’t quite so stark, but the knowledge that his birth father abandoned him, while his adoptive father never much liked him, have left permanent scars that govern a lot of his behavior. The defining element of Classic Loki’s backstory is that he spent a long time alone on a planet, and only got busted by the TVA when he attempted to reconnect with his brother and anyone else he once knew. This is a hard existence, for all of them. And while it does not forgive them their many sins(*), it helps contextualize them, and give them the knowledge to try to be better versions of themselves.

(*) Loki at one point even acknowledges that, for him, it’s probably only been a few days since he led an alien invasion of New York that left many dead, though due to TVA shenanigans, far more time may have passed.

For that matter, Mobius is not the stainless hero he once thought of himself as. While he and Sylvie are tooling around the Void in a pizza delivery car (because of course they are), he admits that he committed a lot of sins by believing that the ends justified the means, and was wrong. He doesn’t know who he is before the TVA stole and factory rebooted him, but he knows that he wants something better for himself and the universe, and takes the stolen TemPad to open up a portal to his own workplace in hopes of tearing down the TVA once and for all. Before he goes, though, he and Loki share a hug that feels a lot more poignant than it should, given that these characters have only spent parts of four episodes of TV together. It’s a testament to Hiddleston, Wilson, Waldron, and company (Tom Kauffman wrote this week’s script) that their friendship felt so alive and important in such a short amount of time.

The same can be said for Loki and Sylvie’s relationship, however we’re choosing to define it. Though they briefly cuddle together under a blanket that Loki conjures, they move no closer to romance than they were already. If anything, Mobius’ accusations of narcissism in last week’s episode seem to have made both of them pull back a bit from where they seemed to be heading back on Lamentis. But the connection between them is real, whatever exactly it is. And their ability to take down Alioth — to tap into the magic that Classic Loki always had, and to fulfill Loki’s belief that “I think we’re stronger than we realize” — by working together is inspiring and joyful. Without all this nuanced and engaging character work, Loki would still be an entertaining ride, but it’s the marriage of wild ideas with the human element that’s made it so great.

Of course, now comes the hard part. Endings have rarely been an MCU strength, give or take something like the climax of Endgame, and the finales of the two previous Disney+ shows were easily their weakest episodes. The strange, glorious, beautiful machine that Waldron and Herron have built doesn’t seem like it’s heading for another generic hero/villain slugfest, but then, neither did WandaVision before we got exactly that. This one feels different so far, though. The command of the story, the characters, and the tone are incredibly strong right now. There is a mystery to be solved about who is in the big castle beyond the Void (another Loki makes the most narrative and thematic sense to me, but we’ll see), and a lot to be resolved about what happens to the TVA and our heroes. And maybe there’s some heavy lifting that has to be done in service to the upcoming Dr. Strange or Ant-Man films.

It’s complicated, but on a show that has handled complexity well. Though even if the finale winds up keeping things simpler, that might work. As Loki notes while discussing his initial plan to take down Alioth, “Just because it’s not complicated doesn’t mean it’s bad.” Though as Kid Loki retorts, “It also doesn’t mean it’s good.”

Please be good, Loki finale. Everything up to this point deserves that.

Some other thoughts:

* Most of this week’s most interesting material happens in the Void. But the scenes back at the TVA clarify a few things. First, Ravonna is not the mastermind of all this, and she was very much suckered in by the Time-Keeper robots. But unlike Mobius or Hunter B-15, she’s so conditioned to the mission that even knowing it’s a lie hasn’t really swayed her from her mission. She has Miss Minutes (who herself is much craftier this week) looking into files about the creation of the TVA, but for the most part comes across as someone very happy with a status quo where she gets to be special and pass judgment on the rest of the multiverse.

* Alioth first appeared in 1993’s Avengers: The Terminatrix Objective, a miniseries (written by Mobius inspiration Mark Gruenwald, and with some extremely kewl Nineties art full of shoulder pads, studded collars, and the like) involving Ravonna, Kang, and the off-brand versions of Captain America, Iron Man, and Thor (aka U.S. Agent, War Machine, and Thunderstrike, the latter of whom has yet to appear in the MCU). It’s a sequel to a Nineties crossover event called Citizen Kang. And no, I still don’t buy that Kang will be the one pulling the strings here, if only because it’s really bad storytelling for the big bad of the season to have never appeared or even been mentioned prior to the finale.

* Rather than try to identify every Easter egg visible in the Void’s terrain, I’ll instead highlight three of the most interesting. Right before the Lokis arrive at the hatch, we see a helicopter with Thanos’ name on it. This is a hat tip to an infamous — and often memed — out-of-continuity story where Thanos flies this chopper while trying to steal the Cosmic Cube (aka the Tesseract) from Hellcat. (A little kid gets his hands on it instead and, of course, uses the Cube to conjure up free ice cream.) James Gunn has been agitating for years for the Thanos Copter to be in the MCU. He finally got his wish.

* The other funny one: When the camera pans down the tunnel into Kid Loki’s headquarters, we see Mjolnir buried in the ground, and right below it is a jar containing a very annoyed frog in a Thor costume. This is either Thor himself — whom Loki cursed into amphibianhood in a memorable Walt Simonson storyline — or another character named Simon Walterston (note the backwards tribute to Walt) who later assumed the tiny mantle.

* Also, in one scene you can spot Yellowjacket’s helmet littering the landscape. This might support the theory that the TVA, the Void, etc., all exist in the Quantum Realm, since that’s where the MCU version of Yellowjacket probably went when his suit shorted out and he was crushed to subatomic size. Or it might be more trolling of the fanbase from the company that had WandaVision fans convinced that Mephisto, the X-Men, and/or Reed Richards would be appearing by the season finale.

* Honestly, I would have watched an entire episode that was just Loki, Mobius, and the others arguing about whether Alligator Loki was actually a Loki, or just a gator who ended up with the crown, presumably after eating a real Loki. The suggestion that the gator might be lying — and that this actually supports, rather than undermines, the case for him being a Loki — was just delightful. And hey, if Throg exists in the MCU now, why not Alligator Loki?

* Finally, the MCU films in general are not exactly known for their visual flair, though a few directors like Taika Waititi and Ryan Coogler have been able to craft distinctive images within the franchise’s usual template. Loki, though, is so often wonderful to look at, and particularly when our heroes are stuck in strange environments like Lamentis or the Void. Director Kate Herron and the VFX team work very well together to create dynamic and weird imagery like Sylvie running from Alioth, or the chaotic Loki battle in the bowling alley. Between this show and WandaVision, it appears the Disney+ corner of the MCU has a bit more room to expand its palette. (Falcon and the Winter Soldier, much less so.)

#Loki #spoilers #episode 5 #review #Rolling Stone #Alan Sepinwall

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just-a-real-human · 4 years ago

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A tale of war.(Humans are space orcs)

SO! i decided to do something different, i won’t be exactly sticking to a single writing style forever, some stories will be Kr’Kn’s lectures(or maybe adventures of his? maybe), others will be more standard stories and yet others, like these, will be large scale battles with dramatic storytelling. ALSO! the comments are fixed now! so i can ACTUALLY get constructive critisism. I found two links for laser sound effect which are used in this story, OR you can imagine them yourself c: (P.S i don’t own any of the sounds)

https://youtu.be/whLbGbpt-E4 for the smaller laser effect. yes. SMALLER

https://youtu.be/o_Lv5GXYYvA for the BIG BOY. You’ll know when to use it. NOW ON WITH THE STORY

The Dr’achs attack on humanity was not exactly unexpected...but it was a surprise they’d do it so soon. They were a warfaring species, a succesfull one at that, taking homes, destroying planets by taking their recources, even bringing many species to extinction...we all assumed this would be the end of humanity, they never did have much military might. Don’t get me wrong!, their military was powerful, but there wasn’t much of it...at least that’s what we thought...oh how wrong we were.

The Dr’achs attack was swift, powerful, unexpected. The human homeworld (Earth or Terra, depends who you ask) Was utterly decimated, many cities fell, including every major capital. They killed every town, city or village they came across. The Dr’achs ordered the surrender of humanity, but their representitive, Grand Admiral Yeshua Ezekiel Alastair replied with but one simple sentence. “Psalm chapter 97″. Nobody knew what it meant, but the Dr’achs soon came to know it’s meaning first hand...

A mere three months after the devestating attack on Earth, a fleet had assembled, one of sizes inconcievable to anyone who saw it...millions, no, BILLIONS of humans had gathered around their pride and joy, their flagship, their capital...i cannot describe it’s power, it’s size...it’s might...

It was so immense we could see it pass our star clearly like an eclipse, blotting out the sun with it’s size and power...I must say, am i happy we did not attack humanity when we thought they were weak.

At the planet, many aliens had joined the fleet, be that to provide geniune support, to sate their curiosity, to record the happenings for the universe to see, or to simply see the might of the Deus ex machina. I don’t blame anyone who did, a small part of me joined the battle for that exact reason, of course i was mostly there to record the happenings, but still...that ship is incomprihensibly big, i could probably destroy a city simply by entering atmosphere above it!

At the home planet of the Dr’achs, Dr’ach’raz, Humanity gave one warning, telling the Dr’achs to surrender, giving them one chance to surrender. They naturally refused, and so, in reaction, Grand Admiral Yeshua simply smiled, saying “May the Lord have mercy on your soul, but i doubt hell will be pleasant.”

Ships flew all across the planet, engulfing it like a dyson sphere does a star, millions of ships flying to every city, village or remote bunker, having no mercy, they spared no man, woman or child. Every ship firing it’s devastating lasers at them, and at their capital, which humanity attacked last, the Dr’achs had put of an admirable defense, their turrets did most of the work, shooting down a ship every now and then, they sent thousands upon thousands in infantry, but the human ships simply fired on them with their heavy laser beams, their booming, horrible sound being a testament to their strength. Those ships tore down evey building they hit, like a hot blade through butter, cutting through ground, battering through bunkers and disintegrating infantry and civilians alike. Military had hidden in bunkers so deep underground even their heavy lasers couldn’t break through, but that was their last mistake...

From within the bunkers, the surviving Dr’achs sat with shaking knees, regretting everything they had ever done, desperately attempting to open communications with humanity. Eventually, Alastair picked up, a thin smile on his face and raised eyebrow. “I had expected you dead, what seems to be the problem?” The Dr’achs looked at him, abject horror on his face. “Human! Turn back your ships at once! we-we surrender!” All Yeshua did...was laugh. He shook his head, still chuckling. “What makes you think we had the intention of accepting surrender? If we wanted your surrender, all we would have done is decloak our capital and show you!” The Dr’achs eyes went wide, his mouth agape as it looked at the screen showing what was happening above ground...

There it was, high above, darkening everything on the planet, was the human flagship, their new capital...The Deus ex machina, The God from the machine.

Above the bunker, the remaining ground troops gasped, looking up at the darkened sky. Many tried to flee, others tried to shoot it, yet others collapsed, fainted or dead from fear. None of it mattered anyways, for the many ships pulled back, returning to their God...and then everything went silent, as if all sound was pulled away, and then There was a horrible sound, Thunder was sounding all around the planet, made by all the disturbance the gravity of this massive ship was making and the dust and debris rubbing together... and suddenly a massive surface the size of a dwarf planet on the God’s belly started glowing a brilliant white-green colour, a horrible, a rising hum sounding all around, deafening all who heard it without protection. Then, the most horrifying thing i have ever observed...the gigantic laser fired, it’s brilliant white blinding me temporarily it cored through the planet like it was nothing, the sound returning in my dreams even to this very day. It blasted through the planet, going deeper and deeper, destroying the bunker like paper...but it did not stop...

It continued, not stopping untill...it hit the core. The planet started to glow from the inside out with the green hue of this massive beam,but this lasted all but a few seconds before it blasted apart. everything on that planet was dead...destintegrated, killed by the shockwave, or maybe, JUST maybe, some poor alien on the other side of the planet was alive long enough to see it’s home split...or maybe it was removed by the laser coming out the other side...

Humans were victorious, and every creature in the galaxy knew that humans were amazing at hiding their might...but not afraid to show it.

Human death count was maybe 5000, their victory was absolute, they remain a powerful force, and even a dozen of their heavy cruisers could have been sent to deal with this...but no, they wanted revenge...they NEEDED revenge, they needed to honour the dead by wiping those disgusting creatures away from the universe...and so they did, and the only ones remaining are on planets far away, praying everyday a human doesn’t come and end their existence...

Dr Kr’Kn on the destruction of Dr’ach’raz.

SO! that was a story displaying the fact that humans are not to be fucked with! i really hope you enjoyed and don’t be shy to post constructive critisism c:

Do keep in mind CONSTRUCTIVE, i want to improve, so please also tell me how to write better. Have a VERY nice day, and untill next time!

#humans are terrifying #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #humans are space fae

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tanadrin · 3 years ago

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The Encyclopedia of Things To Come: The Dhambaliya Commune

The Dhambaliya Commune was a century utopian community established on Dhambaliya (formerly Bremer Island) in the early 22nd century; it later moved to Marchinbar Island to the north, after the Outback War and the re-establishment of the authority of the Second Australian Republic in most of the former Northern Territory.

The Commune grew out of the New Farm Group, an informal community of heterodox Buddhists, New Age spiritualists, transhumanists, entheogen and research chemical enthusiasts, and cyberneticists which formed in Brisbane in the 2110s. Three leaders in this community, later dubbed by members of the the Commune "the Three Mothers," formulated a plan starting in 2122 at creating an intentional community on the outskirts of the city, or perhaps on the West Coast of the United States. Increasing political instability in California, which would later erupt into the Californian Anarchy, and the repressive political and religious climate of the First Australian Republic (proclaimed in 2124) caused the Mothers to look further afield. Northeastern Arnhem Land had by that time been rendered effectively desolate, due to a combination of rising temperatures and repeated droughts. Although inhospitable and remote, many members of the New Farm Group considered the challenge of building a self-sufficient community in the north to be a matter of mere engineering problems and can-do spirit, and motivated by a desire to pursue their transhuman agenda away from the oversight of any government's regulatory authority, Dhambaliya was decided upon as the ideal location. The Mothers left Brisbane in June of 2127, with three groups of followers departing by the end of the year.

Despite initial ambition and optimism, the Commune encountered numerous unforseen difficulties in their first four years. Breakdowns of solar power and water desalination equipment nearly caused catastrophic failures in 2129 and 2130, frustrations over competing visions of the Commune's organization and goals resulted in chronic political friction, and a short-lived breakaway community was established on the opposite end of the island in 2132. But by 2134, most of these initial difficulties had been ironed out; the Commune established a reliable satellite communications link to the rest of the world, and acquired a small cargo ship, the Arafura Voyager, which made regular supply trips to Makassar and Port Moresby. Once firmly established, the research program of the Commune began in earnest, with its ultimate goal being, as the Mothers and their followers saw it, the complete liberation of the human soul from the shackles of its body.

Although influenced by both Buddhist and Gnostic thought, the philosophy of the Commune was itself strictly materialist. They held no illusions regarding the possibility of the transmigration of the soul, of a cosmic karmic force, or of an ultimate divinity from which the human intelligence derived. Indeed, they saw these things not as preexisting properties of humankind, but as goals to be reached: that they could achieve, through a combination of advanced biology and cybernetics, a means by which to make them a reality. Initial progress was promising; members of the Commune submitted papers to several well-regarded sodality journals and preprint servers throughout the 2130s and 40s, and their research contributed to early breakthroughs in the development of robust BCIs, cognitive assistance tech, and language-sharing modules. But by 2150, their resarch output slowed to a crawl, and contact with the outside world dwindled. In 2157 it ceased entirely, and the assumption was that the Commune had failed. By that point the Greater Indonesian Campaigns and civil unrest in Australia made the Arafura Sea region extremely dangerous, and no relief or rescue mission was possible. The New Farm Group had been forcibly dispersed a decade earlier, and what friends the Commune had in the rest of the world were few, and widely scattered. In 2163, against all hope, a garbled radio was received in Port Moresby, evidently from the Commune, but signaling that they were now to be found on Marchinbar Island. A few federal patrols during the Outback War traveled as far as the Gove Peninsula, but they did not land on Dhambaliya.

Real news of the fate of the Commune had to wait until 2176. Four years before, the Chilean historian and adventurer José Ramón Higgins, had become fascinated by the mystery of the Lost Commune. Fuller understanding of the public work of the Commune in the 2160s had caused some scientists to believe that the Commune's research was not only cutting edge, but involved an understanding of the human brain, and the mechanisms of consciousness, perhaps decades ahead of the rest of the world, and Higgins suspected that the Lost Commune perhaps contained a treasure trove of scientific information. He even argued that it was possible the Commune still existed, and had merely withdraw from the rest of the world; after all, if their research had really leapfrogged the mainstream scientific community that much, they might see little value in continued traffic with the outside world. It took until 2176 for Higgins to accumulate enough financial support and clearance from the Australian government, and he reached the original site of the Commune, at the southwestern end of Bremer Island, in May of that year.

At that location, little of substance was found. Some derelict temporary shelters, the dock that the islanders had built, and some debris; a small graveyard testified to the difficulties encountered in the island's first few years. There was also a stone marker, planted on the beach, pointing north to Marchinbar. Higgins proceeded there three days later, and spent nearly two weeks, first circling the island and then using drones to survey its interior, looking for any trace of the Commune. He was on the verge of departing in defeat, when one of the survey drones uncovered evidence of an underground bunker on the northwestern coast, facing Jensen Bay.

Careful investigation showed that the area around the bunker entrance had, in fact, been built on decades prior; but the structures once present there had then been methodically dismantled, and the ground swept to obscure their presence. A few traces of underground infrastructure hinted at plumbing, electricity, and other amenities--evidently, a quite prosperous little community had existed on the island at one point. The bunker entrance plunged down at a steep slope, straight into the bedrock underneath the island; although the outer door was unlocked, a heavy concrete cap had been placed at the opposite end of the tunnel: whomever had built the bunker had, evidently, not intended to come out. Higgins dithered on whether to breach the bunker; if somehow, still occupied, the act might be taken as aggressive; but in the end, his notorious curiosity won out. It took careful drilling and blasting over the course of nine days to dislodge the cap and the locked steel door beyond.

Inside, Higgins discovered what amounted to a cozy residence for several dozen souls, and supplies to last them perhaps eighteen months; there was evidence that some nine months' additional supplies had already been consumed. Attached to the central living area of the bunker was a large computer system of unusual design, but evidently built more for robustness than performance, connected to an old-style fission power generator locked in a maintenance cycle. On restarting the generator, the computer sprang to life; and on it, Higgins discovered the history and the final testament of the Dhambaliya Commune.

The Commune had indeed withdrawn from the world intentionally, feeling that they were on the verge of important breakthroughs which alas, due to the unstable political situation then prevailing, could have both enormous benefits and catastrophic consequences. They hoped to perfect their new technology, which amounted to a form of whole-mind simulation, and to share it with the world once a more peaceful atmosphere prevailed. They were optimists, of course; they were utopians. One must be a sort of optimist to think any kind of Utopia is possible. But, alas, they also fell prey to their own hopes, and in the end, their technology failed.

They called the core beliefs of their community the Triple Insight, and credited each of the Three Mothers with one-third of it. Amitabha, the nickname of the first mother, had attributed to human thought the quality of *emptiness*: specifically, an emptiness of attention, an emptiness of control; she had held that the consciousness of the human brain was a kind of illusion, or half-consciousness, one which lacked the kind of meta-insight and meta-control that would be necessary to call a being truly self-aware. Ksitigarbha, the second mother, had held that this metaconsciousness was necessary for the true condition of free will: that only when the mind itself was amenable to self-modification, free from the constraints imposed by a fixed biology and billions of years of evolutionary history, could a condition worthy of that name be achieved. And Avalokitesvara, the third mother, had provided the means: a theoretical architecture that would permit the creation of a self-modifying machine, based in certain ways on the architecture of the human brain, but in others on more ideal systems, which could support the sort of being which the three envisioned.

Despite the esoteric jargon and melange of religious traditions in which the Mothers couched their philosophy, the technical descriptions provided in the archives were perfectly transparent and exceedingly exact. A minutely detailed research program and experimental logs testified to the scientific credentials of the Commune's members, but it also demonstrated why they had thought it necessary to withdraw from the rest of the world to work on their projects. They experimented on their own bodies and nervous systems, and on each others', with a frighteningly cavalier attitude: always by consent, but often with incredible risk. It soon became clear that not a few of the deaths the Commune had suffered in its early years were due, not to environmental hardship, but to experiments in BCIs and brain scanning gone tragically awry. The Mothers had wept at each of these deaths, but they comforted themselves and their followers with the urgency of their mission, and the majesty that would accompany their eventual success.

When a stable system of mind simulation was finally developed, at first it produced only horrors, horrors possibly greater than they had already inflicted on one another. Beings which, lacking any kind of embodied reference for their cognition, twisted in madness alone in the darkness. Unlike the human mind, which seemed to grow quiescent in the absence of stimuli, these were creatures of pure thought that could not extinguish their own sense of being; but neither could they interact with the world, which was totally dissevered from them. The first such simulations had to be euthanized, and a great deal of work invested in creating a sufficient simulacrum of physical existence to permit anything remotely like a human intelligence to be instantiated.

The crowning achievement of their work was what they called the Thoughtform Device. It could produce either a rough scan of a human mind, requiring invasive surgery but barring complications not causing serious harm; or, if the skull were opened, it could be used to create a highly-detailed scan of a brain, down to nanoscale details, at the cost of completely destroying it. Once scanned, either in general detail and either interpolated with artificial data, or in fine detail, the structures and patterns of the human brain could be mapped to software constructs, which facilitated a gradual restructuring of consciousness away from what the Mothers called the acoustic model, to what they called the divine fire.

The Mothers explained it thus: that the human brain should be imagined as a series of small nodes, each too primitive to be analogized even to an advanced computer, but operating in tandem in sophisticated ways that, as an emergent property, produced patterns far more advanced than, until recently, any human-made machine could imitate. But the ground-level simplicity of the mind, and its dependence on properties which manifested only in vast aggregates of its elements, limited it: human consciousness was dependent on patterns of neuronal firing, patterns of interactions of these nodes, triggered by sense-sensation, by biological fluctuations, by the happenstance arising and falling away of thoughts, and thus ebbed and advanced like waves on a seashore, or like sounds echoing within a vast and sophisticated series of caves. The divine fire, the spark which they sought, was a mind which could distribute or unify its attention at will: which could refract itself into a hundred pieces, each attending to some small task, or unify itself to accomplish some greater one, with no loss or diminishment of total capacity. A mind which, rather than being dependent on patterns of echoes arising and falling away each moment as external sensation buffeted it, passively observes the world, action arising authentically and originally from within.

They held no illusions about how the Thoughtform Device functioned. The coarse scan was only a rough copy of a human being: the beings it instantiated bore only a passing resemblance to their exemplar, and quickly dissolved back into nothing. The fine scan, the burning scan, was death. It would create a new being, but this was not the same as the one who died to give it birth. They would be dead; their consciousness would cease. The creature that took its place in the simulated environment would be a cousin, a sibling, perhaps a child; it would have their memories and hopes and dreams, but it would diverge rapidly, achieving a new identity and a new purpose, according to its new mode of existence. Yet though it came at the cost of their own lives, the members of the Commune marveled at, delighted in, and loved dearly these new children. One by one they submitted to the Thoughtform Device; one by one they died; and one by one new being were reborn in their stead.

It was only after this process was well underway that, to their immense grief, the Mothers finally apprehended its flaws. Though the underlying principles were sound, the virtual ecosystem they had built to support their children was insufficient to the task. Necessary approximations and optimizations, which had seemed to be harmless at the beginning, proved over time to result in accumulated errors that produced false memories, hallucinations, and profound distress in the simulated beings. They could be reset to an earlier state, but this was a stopgap, and it was anyway a process that felt intolerably violent to the Mothers, like a lobotomy. Feverishly they worked to augment and amend their systems, but the malfunctions, they discovered, would accumulate at a geometric rate; to permit any kind of long-term survival for their children, they would have to be virtually entirely eliminated, and that would require, using technology then available, a system the size of a small moon, which operated painfully slowly.

It was this failure, in the end, that broke their dream. The remaining flesh-and-blood members of the commune, grief-stricken either at the thought of abandoning their children or continuing their work in vain, devised a plan for the long-term storage of their data. The bunker was built to keep the children safe, for centuries, even millennia if need be, sleeping a cold sleep akin to death, their minds preserved as data physically etched onto a durable polymer substrate. And at last, when everything was prepared and the bunker had been sealed shut, the last members of the commune and the mothers themselves lay down within the Thoughtform Device, and followed their brothers and sisters into the darkness. The bodies of these last martyrs, Higgins noted with some confusion, were nowhere to be found.

At first the tale that Higgins returned with was deemed an utter fabrication; but he had proof, and the technical knowledge he returned with astounded the scientific community. They agreed that the Mothers had been right--there was not enough computing power in the entire world to support even one of the thoughtforms without fatal malfunction within a year. The utopians were dead, and their legacy could not be saved. Worse, the other technologies they had developed in pursuit of their goals created a great deal of unease. The authoritarian First Australian Republic had, in its last desperate years, had sought to extend its surveillance state to an unprecedented degree, and flirted with a kind of totalitarian control that, if combined with sophisticated BCI techniques, might have produced unspeakable atrocities. The Pan-Indonesian Federation feared, not unjustly, the weaponization of such technology against their member states; and not a few commentators said it would have been better if Higgins had let the ghosts of the last generation lie. A team from the University of Tokyo visited the site of the bunker in 2159, and made a partial copy of the recordings of the mind-states it contained--but pointedly avoided retrieving any controversial technology. The tunnel was then sealed again, and travel to Marchinbar was banned by international treaty. Forty years later, an ASEAN patrol craft noted that the Jansen Bay site was now entirely obscured by overgrowth; but that someone had left a small stone monument on the shore, imploring the passerby of some far-off day to spare a thought for the dead below, and to redeem them, if they could.

See also: “Human Improvement Board (Australia),” “Australian Civil War,” subsection “Crimes against Humanity,” “Piracy in the Arafura Sea,” “Outback Wars,” “Alice Springs Massacre,” “Committee of Public Safety (Australia),” “Greater Indonesian Campaigns,” “Thirty Years’ War (Southeast Asia),” “Clonal Network of Xi,” “José Ramón Higgins,” “Brisbane Commune,” “Cape York Rebellion,” “History of BCI,” subsection “BCI in the 22nd Century.”

#the encyclopedia of things to come #tanadrin's fiction

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cassian-kane · 3 years ago

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Prompt #2: Aberrant

The machines beeped and whirred, feet moved back and forth across the floor, pens scritched against paper. He'd used the way sounds had echoed in the room to measure its size and judge its composition. He could guess how low the ceilings were but could not see them. There was something sticky over his eyes, holding the lids shut tight. Tubes infiltrated his nose and mouth and his appendages were heavy - likely bound.

It was rare for these nightmarish memories to seep back in, but given his last few weeks, he would assume it was only normal for the terrors to peek in on him - make sure he was still on his toes. His past and present were colliding violently and it was only a matter of time before it affected his future as well.

"Subject Two Nine, day fifty three of observation," the woman began, her voice steady. "Subject is sedated using the same formula broken down in prior recordings. There are no signs of physical diminishment after two weeks without food or water." A few papers ruffled, like the observer was searching for some point of reference in her notes, even as she continued to speak.

"Two Nine's core temperature remains average until exposed to extreme change, at which point it will elevate or drop based on the system's needs. This does not initiate a pain response." She paused for a moment, pushing a series of buttons on a terminal with little mercy.

Agony flared in his left arm, liquid fire invading his veins and threatening to burn him from the inside out. He couldn't speak with the tubes in his mouth, but his body arched off the table he was strapped to, every line of muscle painfully taut. He'd beg them to cut it off if he could.

Just as he was preparing to make any kind of shattered scream he could manage, the pain abated and then was gone entirely. His body relaxed back down onto the table. The woman hovering nearby let out a breath, jotted down some more notes and didn't sound at all surprised when she continued.

"When exposed to pain, the receptors react, but are then overridden and - for lack of a better phrase - are 'turned off'. The brain still recognizes the pain is continuing, but it is prioritizing what to respond to and what not. This is incredibly aberrant behavior and we have not seen this in any of the others."

"We believe, if presented with enough pain, the subject's mind will entirely reroute itself for survival. While this outcome has alluring potential, we have not pushed experimentations to this point as we do not yet have a method of control."

He remembered all of it, every single word that woman had spoken into the recording device. But the thing that struck cold fear into him was the fact that he could - that everything she'd said was true. He was abnormal. He had been created to be that way and then feared for what he could become.

It had been devastating to a younger Cassius, a boy who had needed to be loved as much as he was not. But Cassian would use it to his every advantage to protect the people he did love, because he had those now, and they were worth every effort.

#FFXIVWrite2021 #ffxivwrite #prompts #Aberrant #Cassian Kane #the Morningstar Captain #nightmares are sometimes real #Subject Two Nine

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niqhtlord01 · 4 years ago

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Humans are weird: Planetary Assaults

Few people can say that they’ve witnessed the end of their people.

To see the works of countless generations before you, the toils of your ancestors stretching back centuries, the greatest achievements of your people had made wiped away in a few days as if they were nothing but dust in the wind.

I remember the day human ships struck orbit above our world.

I remember the fury of our orbital stations as they sought to hold them at bay as hundreds of their ships exited jump space.

I remember the second sun that shun across our world when the Mobious Prime station’s core went critical and detonated. The debris showering across half a continent and setting the skies ablaze.

But most of all....

I remember the black ships as they came from the heavens.

Our judgement was at hand..........

We thought ourselves superior to every living creature in the galaxy, that none could match our culture and military might. We sought to conquer those we saw as less fortunate and bring them into the light of our empire and raise them above the shallows they had lived in. This went on for centuries until we finally came across humanity.

A backwards people living in the darkest corner of the universe, our fleets of glistening ships entered their system with the chorus of hope and deliverance on our lips. We set down on their lifeless red world and began to recreate it into something beautiful, something to show them our might and strength.

They responded by swatting our ships from their skies and sending them plummeting to the red world below.

War broke out then and the weight of humanity bore down on us from all quarters until now our very home world was besieged.

What few orbital guns we had left fired bright lances of energy into the night sending a dozen or so ships plummeting to their fiery grave. But for every dozen struck down it felt as if another hundred rushed to take their place.

High in orbit their ships targeted our guns and silenced them until all that was left was the army. Their ships landed all across the world and as their doors lowered and slapped against the soil of our world I saw the face of our enemy for the first time.

Clad in polished green armor and a face mask that resembled a demon of old the human soldiers stormed out of their ships and into our gunfire. Countless died as they crossed the terrain to meet us. Once their compliment of soldiers had left the dropships closed their doors once more and rushed back to the skies making way for more and more dropships to take their place.

What unnerved me most about these humans wasn’t their tenacity, nor their vigor to storm into combat; but how none of them made a sound. It may have very well been their helmets dampened all sounds they made but as I fired upon them I watched them tumble and collapse to the ground like a children's toy as the strings have been cut and the ones behind continue over as if their fallen comrade was nothing more than a speed bump.

The human soldiers had been pinned by our fire and were taking horrendous casualties when the heavy duty dropships arrived. Their doors opened wide and instead of soldiers came great mechanical machinations of war. Armored vehicles with weapons so massive they were more like mobile weapons platforms fired and tore apart our defensive works like paper while large slow moving troop transports lumbered across the battlefield. Our mines exploded underneath the monster’s treads but it merely rocked the behemoth as it pressed onward.

When it arrived at our defensive line the front opened up and great gouts of flame shot out and swallowed my comrades whole. As I crawled away I saw a gaping maw open and out came more human soldiers. Their weapons fire was precise and quick as they cleared out the remaining defenses. I managed to escape the nightmare to the cities but even behind their shields I found no refuge.

From miles away the humans cannons roared and their shells smashed into the shields like a heavy rain. The bombardment lasted three hours before the shield fell and then the shelling was upon us now.

Buildings crumbled like they were made of sand, streets lay ruined and crowded with the burnt remains of vehicles and the broken bodies of the dead, and everywhere I turned all I saw was destruction and chaos. I curled up into a ball then I kept my eyes shut. At least then I would not see my end coming.

After what felt like an eternity the shelling ceased and I opened my eyes. What I saw made me believe that I had died and had passed to the world beyond.

The streets were silent, as if the hell it had just endured was a distant memory. A layer of dust coated everything like snow as it continued to fall from the battered towers around me.

From behind me i hear something rustling beyond the dust plums and thought it was another survivor.

Marching through the dust like gods of death came the humans.

A squad of their soldiers slowly marching through the dust, weapons raised, helmets pondering the street back and forth looking for the smallest ounce of a threat to crush without hesitation.

I was on my hands and knees when they came upon me an I looked up at the one in the front. I could not tell what expression the human had under their mask, if they spouted a devilish grin from ear to ear as the leaders had proclaimed or if they really did have five throats from which to eat our children.

All I could see was those red lenses watching me unflinching. The human’s head cocked to the side slightly as they observed me; so did a few of their fellows but most continued to watch the street.

One of them stepped forward, reaching behind their backs for something of what I still do not know to this day but I imagine at night as I look into the darkness of my ceiling that it was a weapon of some sort. A way to finish me off, put me out of my pain.or maybe to exact some measure of revenge.

The one in the front who had been pondering me held out a hand and the other human stopped. No words were spoken and yet with a simple gesture the human had returned to their position.

Tilting their head back to me once more the lead human continued to watch me for a few moments and I felt as if the soldier was pitying me. Without an indication the lead human continued past me without a sound.

Crunch.crunch.crunch.

Out of that entire battle that is the sound I remember the most. The sound of my would be killers footsteps walking by.

crunch.crunch.crunch......

The rest followed behind them, though the one who had been reaching for something lingered behind watching me longer before quick pacing after their comrades.

The humans did more that day then just leave my body broken in the ruins of my world.

They shattered my will and left the broken pieces along the ground as they marched forward. Everything my people had done became nothing but dirt beneath their feet as they marched towards their own future.

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story

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albino-whumpee · 3 years ago

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Robowhump 3

*Used prompt for day 13 for this one. (Just to clarify to that sweet person reading this, (thanks!) this is original writing, so all characters are my own) TW// Kidnapping, torture, implied past abuse, cutting, sensory deprivation and sensory overload. Quite explicit so please stay safe!

It was dark. The only lights on the room were the computer led lights from the boy´s monitors. A line going up and down just as the activity of the tied robot´s components sent through cables upon cables.

Exia had its hands above its head. Tied to a hook hanging from the ceiling. The neural cable on its nape made a circle around its neck and ended on a lock on its back. Without the key hanging from Ian´s neck, below his clothes, Exia wouldn´t get away. Of course, that would only occur if it figured out a way of escaping the magnetic force of the iman below its feet.

Ian bit on his lollipop stick stepping closer to Exia. Passing through windows on the tablet on his hands. Black hair hiding his eyes from Exia. It was a relief. Ian´s eyes terrified the machine.

“System readjustment command, on” Ian ordered Exia. Its receptors above its head twinkled as he put down the tablet.

Suddenly, Ian took out a pair of scissors.

He grabbed Exia´s shirt without it even yelping. When Exia was in front of Ian, he would remain silent. The program the young man had written so many years back was impecable. Even after being rebooted, Ian´s orders were something Exia´s system refused to erase. No, couldn´t ignore.

Ian walked to below his desk and took out a box. He pulled out a few objects and put them in line on the ground. A blindfold, an inflating gag and the type of earphones that people at airports would use. Ian sat for a moment. Staring at them lost in thought. As if he had reached sudden enlightment, his thin lips curved up into a wicked smile that promised nothing good for the trembling robot.

He stood up, leaving the objects on a nearby working table. Walking to the back of the robot. “Let´s start with that mouth of yours” He said before passing the gag over its neck. Putting the inflating object between the robot´s gums. Not without a little bit of resistance to open from the robot. “You know better than try to test my patience, Exia” Ian seized the black and yellow hair. The yellow, result of Creek´s burning long time ago. The robot trembled until it allowed Ian put the thing on its mouth. Blinking a bit when Ian slapped it´s cheek in what was supposed to be a praising gesture. “Next, your sight…” Exia was covered in a black veil when Ian slid off the blindfold. Ian adjusted harshly tight the buckle behind its head. It was now left to the mercy of its skin receptors and its ears. But before Ian put the sound isolating headphones, he felt a short cut over its wrists. Possibly paper.

“Sensory receptors to 100%” Exia´s core responded with a small beep upon the sudden work overload. Even if Exia itself couldn´t hear, the receptors would pick up Ian´s voice.

He had made sure they worked through trial and error before. After all, it had been him who had made most of Exia´s modifications. So he smiled triumphantly upon seeing the robot flinching violently. The papercut burning through its receptors.

It hurt.

Exia could perceive everything 40% better than normal. The pain emulator was very kind to remind it why it wasn´t a good thing to feel that much.

Without the robot being able to see it, Ian took out some scissors from his desk´s drawer. He walked towards the hanging machine and cut what the uniform it was wearing.

With a hand, Ian discarded the chopped clothe when he finished. Then it swiped down the robot´s black pants. Leaving only its boxers on, gently, Ian passed the scissors on a straight line from its belly button to its collarbone.

If Exia had real skin, with the sensory receptors at that level, it would be the equivalent of cutting its abdomen open with a two inch knife through all the extension of its middle line. Cold and hot setting in at the spots Ian passed the end of the scissors.

Exia wanted to scream. But it only bit on the object. Firstly because the speakers were turned off and… making a pittyful attempt to stay still during all this. Fighting every impulse to not shake violently upon feeling the oh, so cold metal against the synthetic skin.

Ian put them down and Exia inevitably flinched when it felt the end of the scissors stabbing its left thigh.

Ian´s eyes squinted. “It´s just the very end of the scissors and you´re already like this?” the young man asked before putting more pressure. Making Exia shake violently “What if we shoved it all the way in?” the tone of his voice collected as he saw Exia jerk against its restraints. Making the cables all around it jump and tweek “Would it be better if we simply turned them off?” Ian said to the unhearing robot. Grabbing its head by the chin and making it nod with more strength than necessary. “Such eagerness…” he said before throwing the robot´s face down and getting his hands on its belly button. digging through the skin searching for the button that would switch off the sensors.

The hurting from before was nothing against this.

Exia squirmed and howled with muted speakers as it felt Ian´s hand strongly wonder around its abdomen. Revolving its synthetic guts and a even more sensitive spots on the way. Clawing to the wrong buttons and pushing them to make it whimper before rushing to another.

It bit down the object on its mouth as it tried to shake off Ian. Trembling violently wasn´t helping if it only meant another hand pressing down on it. The hand was heavy as iron, merciless like a demon and hot like hell itself. Was it not for the sudden pull of a button Exia´s panic mode would have made it go into hibernation.

Exia was a machine, it didn´t know relief. But if not feeling anything after feeling everything wasn´t relief, it couldn´t calculate what it was. It went limp.

Sensors turned off.

The only thing certain was the time stamp on its vision. Unable to see anything else thanks to the blindfold.

That terrible session had only lasted five minutes.

It wasn´t necessary to make any calculations or predictions, or hear the words, to know Ian put the sensor receptors back on its place after a few minutes.

“Sensory receptors to 100%”

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