#Machine Lubrication Systems

[harvard-filtration]

Machine Lubrication: Ensuring Efficiency and Longevity

Machine lubrication is a cornerstone of efficient industrial operations. Proper lubrication minimizes wear, reduces friction, and prevents costly breakdowns. At Harvard Filtration, we understand the importance of effective machine lubrication and offer solutions to optimize performance and extend equipment life.

What is Machine Lubrication?

Machine lubrication involves applying lubricants such as oils or greases to mechanical components to reduce friction, dissipate heat, and protect against corrosion. It ensures smooth functioning of machinery, which is essential for consistent productivity in industries like manufacturing, construction, and energy.

Types of Machine Lubrication Systems

Modern industries utilize a range of machine lubrication systems to meet diverse requirements:

Manual Lubrication: Operators apply lubricants manually to specific parts. Suitable for smaller machines, but labor-intensive.

Automatic Lubrication Systems: These systems deliver precise amounts of lubricant at regular intervals, minimizing human intervention.

Single-Line Systems: Ideal for small to medium machines with fewer lubrication points.

Multi-Line Systems: Designed for larger machinery with multiple components.

Progressive Systems: Sequentially lubricate complex systems with interconnected components.

Mist Lubrication Systems: Used for high-speed applications, this system disperses lubricants in the form of a fine mist.

Importance of Machine Lubrication Maintenance

Even the best lubrication system requires regular maintenance to function effectively. Machine lubrication maintenance includes:

Inspecting Lubricant Levels: Ensuring the system has adequate lubricant for continuous operation.

Analyzing Lubricant Quality: Checking for contamination or degradation that may reduce effectiveness.

Cleaning Lubrication Lines: Removing blockages for smooth lubricant flow.

Regular System Audits: Identifying potential issues early to prevent system failure.

Benefits of Effective Machine Lubrication

Reduced Downtime: Prevents unexpected breakdowns, ensuring seamless operations.

Enhanced Equipment Life: Reduces wear and tear, extending the lifespan of machinery.

Cost Savings: Minimizes repair and replacement costs by maintaining optimal system performance.

Improved Efficiency: Lowers energy consumption by reducing friction between components.

Harvard Filtration: Your Partner in Machine Lubrication

At Harvard Filtration, we specialize in providing advanced lubrication systems and maintenance solutions tailored to your industrial needs. Explore our detailed blog, Machine Lubrication & Its Types, for deeper insights into lubrication technologies and best practices.

Ensure your machinery operates at peak performance—contact Harvard Filtration today for expert guidance on machine lubrication systems and maintenance.

[minimac-mspl]

Understanding of the BETA factor

What is the Beta Ratio?

The beta ratio refers to the efficiency in which a given filter element removes the particle of a given size. The Beta Ratio is calculated using the ISO multi-pass test standard 16889:1999.

How is it measured?

Get your filter check today, Call +91 7030901266

So, to purchase a filter with a beta ratio of 2-10 is considered poor, it is advised to use filters with at least a Beta factor of 75 and 98.7% effectiveness. High quality, efficient filter assemblies can achieve 200 to 2000 Beta Ratio for given particle size and should be ideal to achieve a low level of contamination.

Also read: https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/you-buying-right-oil-filter-anshuman-agrawal-mlt-1-/

We at Minimac Systems Pvt Ltd. provide services of Total Lubrication Management and Lubrication Consulting that helps you optimize your Lubrication needs. Minimac stands for MINImum MAChinery Maintenance.

[wonderjanga]

I love your headcanons!!! Do you think that with Fawcett being a time bubble and magical influence and when new technology is introduced to the city that it changes? Like the engineers study magic as well due to the proximity to the Rock of Eternity? I'd imagine like perpetual motion machines do exist and parts of the plumbing system are fantastical magic animals. Like the old telephone wires are autonomous snake-like entities that Marvel has to untangle sometimes. (They do get tangled up). It's all very surreal and dream logic stuff.

I would love to see what's under the hoods of their cars. Do they run on pixie dust or dragon tears? Are there small sprites keeping it all together?

I’ve actually never really thought about this but here are some ideas! I think they would study magic when getting engineering degrees cause I’m pretty sure they’d just think of it as apart of engineering maybe. Like for example, when building houses they’d make fairy doors in certain places. I also think that instead of Lightbulbs for street lamps they hire fairies every night to make themselves light up. They get payed in pretty stones. Detectives can hire ghosts to help solve crimes. I think their cars run on either, but they’d be higher quality gas so most people would use normal gas. I also think there would be lawyers who work specifically with cases about fae. There’s gonna be lawyers to get that first born back. People might use magical herbs in everyday cooking too. Like someone might get a dried leaf called mystic petals because when ground up, they taste similar to sugar. (The plant makes hair, skin, and eye color more vibrant) One of the teachers at an elementary school is a Lich that has nothing better to do but teach. Or a Centaur works as a PE teacher. I also think that Fawcett could be so affected by magic that the buildings and sidewalks could be sentient. Like a little kid’s about to trip on a crack and the pavement moves the crack out of the way. Or someone who’s vandalizing a building gets hit in the face when the building pushes a brick out. Certain roads seal up their potholes, and maybe Billy is running down an alley being chased or something and the alley walls close up behind him cutting his pursuers off. The flowers grow all year around in a certain part of a city, it could be hot all the time in another, it could snow frequently in another, and trees could start turning orange and letting leaves fall in another because of the presence of spring, summer, fall, and winter fairies who split Fawcett up into small kingdoms. Billy oversees their diplomatic affairs. You find Santa at the grocery store buying cookie mix because “it’s cheaper here than at the North Pole”. The Spirit of Halloween would start pestering people in beginning of September to put up their Halloween decorations. The Easter Bunny would be a local attraction to go see, as it would be in a meadow every Easter making eggs and giving them to other bunnies to go hide. There’d be tones of restaurants in Fawcett with from from multiple creatures. You can go to a small place on 45th, where you can order from fairies who make sandwiches and soups using traditional fairy recipes and herbs. Or a small stand ran by orcs who sell Owlbear on a stick and roasted Blood Hawk legs. There could be a pair of yetis who sell snow cones using snow from the Himalayas. They have human flavors like grape, and yeti flavors using fruits grown from their tribes. When zombies crawl out of their grave, there’s insurance for both the damage to the coffins and the ruined grave and for people who get bitten. Doctors tweaked the polio vaccine for zombification. Wind elementals help people they favor when they fall. Water elementals help move snow from roads. Earth elementals help with construction. Fire elementals help melt down metals for jewelry stores and factories. Harpies sing for crowds. Gelatinous Cubes can be used as lubricants for machinery and extremely strong glues. I also think the rock messed with time. There are dinosaurs displayed at the zoo. Certain buildings look like they’re from different eras. Gothic architecture, favored by vampires. Victorian architecture. Neoclassical architecture. Also there are wyvern. Though they’re all the size of vultures. They’d have multiple different scale colors which have been made into jewelry or bags. Animal rights activists heavily protested that, and did the same thing they would do to mink coats in the 90’s to the dragon scale items. They threw paint on them. Mimics have exterminators to sniff them out. Shapeshifters wear certain tags while in magical form so they won’t get flagged for animal patrol. There’s also a bunch of other races such as lamia, gorgons, lizard people, homuncules, and goblins.

[fatehbaz]

What it meant to "do geology" in Hutton's time was to apply lessons of textual hermeneutics usually reserved for scripture [...] to the landscape. Geology was itself textual. Rocks were marks made by invisible processes that could be deciphered. Doing geology was a kind of reading, then, which existed in a dialectical relationship with writing. In The Theory of the Earth from 1788, Hutton wrote a new history of the earth as a [...] system [...]. Only a few kilometers away from Hutton’s unconformity [the geological site at Isle of Arran in Scotland that inspired his writing], [...] stands the remains of the Shell bitumen refinery [closed since 1986] as it sinks into the Atlantic Ocean. [...] As Hutton thought, being in a place is a hermeneutic practice. [...] [T]he Shell refinery at Ardrossan is a ruin of that machine, one whose great material derangements have defined the world since Hutton. [...]

The Shell Transport and Trading Company [now the well-known global oil company] was created in the Netherlands East Indies in 1897. The company’s first oil wells and refineries were in east Borneo [...]. The oil was taken by puncturing wells into subterranean deposits of a Bornean or Sumatran landscape, and then transported into an ever-expanding global network of oil depots at ports [...] at Singapore, then Chennai, and through the Suez Canal and into the Mediterranean. [...] The oil in these networks were Bornean and Sumatran landscapes on the move. Combustion engines burnt those landscapes. Machinery was lubricated by them. They illuminated the night as candlelight. [...] The Dutch East Indies was the new land of untapped promise in that multi-polar world of capitalist competition. British and Dutch colonial prospectors scoured the forests, rivers, and coasts of Borneo [...]. Marcus Samuel, the British founder of the Shell Transport and Trading Company, as his biographer [...] put it, was “mesmerized by oil, and by the vision of commanding oil all along the line from production to distribution, from the bowels of the earth to the laps of the Orient.” [...]

---

Shell emerged from a Victorian era fascination with shells.

In the 1830s, Marcus Samuel Sr. created a seashell import business in Houndsditch, London. The shells were used for decorating the covers of curio boxes. Sometimes, the boxes also contained miniature sculptures, also made from shells, of food and foliage, hybridizing oceanic and terrestrial life forms. Wealthy shell enthusiasts would sometimes apply shells to grottos attached to their houses. As British merchant vessels expanded into east Asia after the dissolution of the East India Company’s monopoly on trade in 1833, and the establishment of ports at Singapore and Hong Kong in 1824 and 1842, the import of exotic shells expanded.

Seashells from east Asia represented the oceanic expanse of British imperialism and a way to bring distant places near, not only the horizontal networks of the empire but also its oceanic depths.

---

The fashion for shells was also about telling new histories. The presence of shells, the pecten, or scallop, was a familiar bivalve icon in cultures on the northern edge of the Mediterranean. Aphrodite, for example, was said to have emerged from a scallop shell. Minerva was associated with scallops. Niches in public buildings and fountains in the Roman empire often contained scallop motifs. St. James, the patron saint of Spain, was represented by a scallop shell [...]. The pecten motif circulated throughout medieval European coats of arms, even in Britain. In 1898, when the Gallery of Palaeontology, Comparative Anatomy, and Anthropology was opened in Paris’s Museum of Natural History - only two years after the first test well was drilled in Borneo at the Black Spot - the building’s architect, Ferdinand Dutert, ornamented the entrance with pecten shell reliefs. In effect, Dutert designed the building so that one entered through scallop shells and into the galleries where George Cuvier’s vision of the evolution of life forms was displayed [...]. But it was also a symbol for the transition between an aquatic form of life and terrestrial animals. Perhaps it is apposite that the scallop is structured by a hinge which allows its two valves to rotate. [...] Pectens also thrive in the between space of shallow coastal waters that connects land with the depths of the ocean. [...] They flourish in architectural imagery, in the mind, and as the logo of one of the largest ever fossil fuel companies. [...]

---

In the 1890s, Marcus Samuel Jr. transitioned from his father’s business selling imported seashells to petroleum.

When he adopted the name Shell Transport and Trading Company in 1897, Samuel would likely have known that the natural history of bivalves was entwined with the natural history of fossil fuels. Bivalves underwent an impressive period of diversification in the Carboniferous period, a period that was first named by William Conybeare and William Phillips in 1822 to identify coal bearing strata. In other words, the same period in earth’s history that produced the Black Spot that Samuel’s engineers were seeking to extract from Dayak land was also the period that produced the pecten shells that he named his company after. Even the black fossilized leaves that miners regularly encountered in coal seams sometimes contained fossilized bivalve shells.

The Shell logo was a materialized cosmology, or [...] a cosmogram.

Cosmograms are objects that attempt to represent the order of the cosmos; they are snapshots of what is. The pecten’s effectiveness as a cosmogram was its pivot, to hinge, between spaces and times: it brought the deep history of the earth into the present; the Black Spot with Mediterranean imaginaries of the bivalve; the subterranean space of liquid oil with the surface. The history of the earth was made legible as an energetic, even a pyrotechnical force. The pecten represented fire, illumination, and certainly, power. [...] If coal required tunnelling, smashing, and breaking the ground, petroleum was piped liquid that streamed through a drilled hole. [...] In 1899, Samuel presented a paper to the Society of Arts in which he outlined his vision of “liquid fuel.” [...] Ardrossan is a ruin of that fantasy of a free flowing fossil fuel world. [...] At Ardrossan, that liquid cosmology is disintegrating.

---

All text above by: Adam Bobbette. "Shells and Shell". e-flux Architecture (Accumulation series). November 2023. At: e-flux dot com slash architecture/accumulation/553455/shells-and-shell/ [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me. Presented here for commentary, teaching, criticisms purposes.]

[sublimati0ns]

Hey quick question about "waste processing tanks". I'm just a bit confused at the notion since... I just sort of assumed they had some sort of fuel pump, fuel tanks and fuel lines What "waste" do they even process? Sediments in the energon they inject into themselves? Stuff they accidentally swallow (l think Star's voice actor may have mentioned him swallowing a bird mid-flight - however the fuck that's supposed to work)

Will preface by saying I only have a layman’s knowledge on machinery, so I may not have all my facts straight, but to my understanding most machines will produce waste byproduct as a result of their functioning—so I figure it’s doubly true for Cybertronians, as a result of having mecha-biological processes.

Due to the fact energon can vary in class and quality, I don’t imagine it’s a zero-loss fuel. That’s not a real term I don’t think, but I mean every single drop of energon is probably not converted into pure energy aha—like cars with gasoline, the chemical process of ‘burning’ energon and converting it into energy would probably result in waste like steam, exhaust, and other substances. Like you said, it also makes sense for them to have filtration systems to remove undesirable dregs in the fuel they ingest that may not have been already siphoned out by distilling (I can imagine not every crystal-to-liquid refinery is built equal, and some fuel reserves may become tainted by the environment or cut with other substances).

If Cybertronians are like real machines, energon is probably not the only liquid in their bodies too! They might have coolant, antifreeze, lubricant, oils, brake fluid, transmission fluid, water from dehumidifying processes, etc. On top of that rust/corrosion can build up and grease can congeal… So having automatic processes in their bodies to dispose of carbon deposits and other such waste would be more efficient than having to deep-clean all of their organs manually every few months aha.

I imagine waste processing would include their inner ventilation systems as well, which are responsible for temperature control; it’d be useful for them to have specific vent paths in their body so the airflow isn’t just loose among their other parts. These paths would collect environmental debris and would need to be cleaned out 🤔

Cybertronians can also get sick (cybonic plague, the virus Pharma manufactures on Delphi in MTMTE, etc), which implies the presence of an immune system, ergo processes their bodies have to flush out pathogens (waste). It’s all just my speculation, but hopefully this makes sense and is plausible to you!

[missamyrisa2]

The clink and clack of machinery joins the scratching of writing utensils on paper, which almost distracts from the nails tapping on tablets and keyboards. It takes a village to run this treatment and the whole of them have all their focus, their eyes, and their comments directed at your naked wigglyness on this padded exam table. Another test of your muscles indicates the restraints on your wrists will not be giving up the job any time soon, nor will the flexible cords attached to your stylish shiny anklets which affords only the slightest of protesting kicks to be made - at least, until a surge of energy starts and your legs are pulled into position so that the humming apparatuses can emerge from their chambers in the ceiling. The panels fold and buzz, moving aside. From your periphery you can see the deep purple of their surface. The elongated padded tool rumbles as it hovers slowly towards your body. Scanners flare to life sending tingly beams up your backside, the energy spilling into your knee pits and along every curve of your thigh backs up to your bouncing tush and along the sides to your ribs and underarms and neck. A crackle of power and force begins when the data is fed back to the machinery. The long pipe shaped tool shifts and contorts, becoming perfectly shaped to attach itself to your body. The first set descends to your legs, filling your knee pits with a molded copy. The outer arms attach around your legs to secure the deposit, and with a tap of a key from a smirking tech the vibrational therapy starts.

A hundred thousand evil wiggling fingers with feather tips and somehow blunt tip nails at the same time have a rager of a party in the sensitive crevice behind your knees. The machine gleefully extracts data from you as the scanners run and your every motion in the restraints sets off clicking analysis. The vibrating apparatuses are almost pumping you for information, and there are more arrivals on their way. The next crackle signals the sheath forming to attach onto your thigh backs, a purpley attachment which hurriedly begins trembling and feeling as though a swarm of buzzing lips were lingering on every sensitive little spot. Beeps and chimes happily approve of your desperate gasping giggling screams. The team works efficiently, calmly, irrespective of your frantic sounds. A long shifting sound joins the melee of aural torment - the tush attachment always takes the longest to form. A piece of art in itself, that intricate casting of your rear curves plus an extra extension (currently being massaged with a coating of shiny lubricant), this one moves extra slow to ensure a 100% accurate drop zone. You feel it first in the underside of your cheeks, the line of vibration as a coil of singing feathers. The taunting teasing spreads up like a spiderweb, not fully buzzing your cute ticklish booty but instead performing a vibing fireworks show as it lights up in intricate set of patterns. The technique milks plenty of data from you and doubles to coax your honeyspot into agreeable conditions. The extension gently yet relentlessly finds its way to the target and attaches with a snug deep shock to your system. The vibrations are hugely inconsistent there, seemingly only to appear when you least expect it in order to extract a maximum reaction. A purply ribcage joins late, for it must adhere to extensive designs by ensuring it covers every detected line of sensitivity on your upper body. Moving and securing itself like a claw machine, the last of the machine's components wastes no time in stimulating your ribs to your shoulders and down your spine, with extra nubby attachments springing out to merrily rotate and brush at your squishy sides and soft neck.

Your giggles are both pleasing and addictive to machine and tech. The overload of information fills the banks and satisfies the crowd of mechanical and organic eyes. They adore your body, and revel in every reaction. This love and adoration fuels the passion to tease, taunt, tickle, and torment. Your beautiful body keeps giving and they will keep taking. How many treatments has this been? You've lost track. The only certainty is that when you awake tingling and gasping, the clock has started to spin down once more before that humming purply vehicle finds you once more and milks out all of the pent up data & reactions since your last capture.

[13atoms]

Interrogation (Dhawan!Master x Reader)

Warnings: dubcon/noncon from memory, I think? One of those 'it was all fine all along' types. That might have been why it vanished in the first place? Good old fashioned smut, anyway. Read the request first if in doubt! [1.8k][REPOST, MAYBE?]

Request: "Could you please do a fic where the reader has been captured by some weird planet where interrogation is done by overstimulation? [...] She's scared at first but the master comes to rescue her and then he realizes what's happening and decides he likes his pet like that [...]

You laughed breathlessly as your faceless captors questioned, once again:

“Where is your accomplice?”

The cracking speakers undersold the technology around you – it was state of the art. A camera watched you from each corner of the room, your hips encased in machinery whilst your chest and arms were strapped down with soft-but-unbreakable fabric. 

With a smug grin and a shake of your head, you refused to answer.

By now the sensation was familiar. Still, you fought a wince at the restarting of the slick machinery which sucked on your clit, intensifying as you bucked or tried to recoil even a millimetre from its accurate positioning on your skin. The machinery clamping your hips also left you completely full, a probe in your cunt, stretching you. Your captors had forced you further and further beyond what you thought you could take as the machine thrusted ruthlessly into you, a perfectly timed, inorganic pattern your body which wasn’t built to take.

It hurt to clench, to give in to the pleasure, you were so full. But it was worse to endure it, your entire body, trembling, forcing sweat from your pores, as your it begged for freedom and for satisfaction.

You refused to beg, you knew you could withstand more. Most importantly, you knew The Master was on his way. As the pain in your clit overwhelmed the pleasure, and you lost the ability to think straight, you bit back a curse for him to hurry up.

He’d love this, you thought. The industrial table, which they had strapped you to in nothing but a paper-thin gown. You imagined his horror at the specially-designed machine, which held your hips still, encasing you with pleasure and lubrication. Worst of all, hiding you from him. He was a jealous man, even of the sex toys you liked. He’d be furious something else was giving you pleasure, probably driven to madness to prove himself both superior and necessary. 

The cameras might have concerned you, were it not for your certainty The Master would burn this facility to the ground in a short measure of time. Perhaps he would steal a copy of the recording first – to rewatch in the lonely hours while you slept, finding himself aroused in equal measure by how you were mercilessly fucked and by how stubbornly you protected him, even in sexual agony.

Those captors who watched behind screens, who had strapped you into the machine and pushed its appendage inside of you whilst they were concealed by masks… they had no idea of the danger closing in on them.

Usually the pleasure would build up in quick rounds, quickly becoming pain. Their questioning was as frequent as the pulsing of the sucker on your clit, perhaps thinking they could trick you by flooding your system with hormones and you mind with desperation. It didn’t work. You refused to betray him, risk his safety as he broke in here to safe you. You dreaded the sensitivity accompanying you at the higher levels of their cycle, trying to let your mind drift. But it didn’t work.

This time was different. The pleasure-pain was overwhelming, but monotonous. It started to grow too much, and you frowned at the silence. There was no taunting, no threats, ringing distorted through the surgical-white room.

In fact, there were no voices of any kind. No crackle of the microphone your captors used. You could hear nothing but your own breaths, the rustle of the gown where sweat stuck it to your back, the humming of the machine, and you own slickness. 

Even the change of pitch as your clit was tortured was audible now, the gentle sound of the suction against you, and you realised you were whining softly in the back of your throat. You scrunched your eyes closed, refusing to grow louder and let the captors win. The machine seemed completely in-tune with your body, and you felt sure they knew exactly how oversensitive you were, but it was still possible they had no idea how close you were to breaking.

Was he not coming?

You refused to entertain the thought.

In, out, you ached as you felt even more pressure inside of you, biting your lip as you wondered how much more they could stretch you at this point. You would be limping as The Master rescued you, and suddenly you felt a pang of embarrassment for not being stronger. For not hiding your pleasure from the captors, even as they put you through the fucked up punishments of this civilisation. 

Your clit throbbed from being overworked, none of the hours The Master’s tongue or fingers spent on it could prepare you for how long you had been here, with unrelenting and unfailing rhythm. You couldn’t escape the pleasure, couldn’t adapt to it. Each time you felt prepared for the sensation, like you could predict it, the pattern changed and you were whining, being dragged close to tears yet again.

With a gasp, you heard a crackle, the speakers being switched back on.

Perhaps they would make it stop. They usually did, with the promise you would be free from the torture for as long as you spoke, only for every refusal to speak causing your clit ache more when the punishment resumed. 

How much more? You wondered. How oversensitive could a person yet?

You felt as though that upper limit had been reached. That they couldn’t push you any further. You wanted to cry out for The Master, wishing you could figure out where the door was, wanting to see where he could break in and free you.

You had come to expect the robotic, clinical speech which echoed through the room. A new voice surprised you.

“Hi, darling.”

“Master?”

The name came out moaned, as you wondered if you were hallucinating, finally driven mad.

“Yes, love.”

His tone was sultry, and you tried to imagine him, hands planted on the desk as he leant over the microphone. Watching the screens. Certainly, he was watching the screens.

“Make it st–”

“You know, love, their laws here ban physical injury to prisoners. But not interrogation. Or torture. They can do what they like to use your pleasure against you.”

“Please!”

You had no qualms pleading to him, crying out and moaning. It made the sensations feel even more present, like you could fall into them. He made you feel safe.

“You’ve got a safe word.”

You wanted to kiss him, letting yourself try and seek out the pleasure in the agony as the machine continued to work you, this time with more purpose.

“Did you tell them anything?”

“Nothing.”

“So good…”

You moaned as the soft pressure on your clit grew more insistent. Somehow he manipulated the machine into making you come, and you felt the bruises your legs would develop from kicking out, hitting the table, the only part of your body which could convulse properly while a painful orgasm was forced onto you by the mechanism. By The Master’s instruction.

The machine didn’t stop, and you suddenly gasped, a sob wrenching from your mouth at the pure agony of the machine touching your clit, made more sensitive by your orgasm.

“Blue?” he called the safe word sharply through the microphone, and you nodded, tears falling.

Instantly, the machine stopped. You heard crashing noises, distant but relayed by the speakers. 

“I’ll be two seconds.”

You barely registered as the door behind your head opened, close to passing out and desperately grateful for the absence of stimulation against you pussy. The machine still clamped your hips to the table, filled you and brushed against you, but at least it was stationary.

His footsteps made you try and open your eyes, feeling lightheaded as he set the TCE beside your waist on the table, turning his attention to the machine.

He took it apart quickly, taking it piece at a time until he could ease out the dildo filling you, making you gasp as it stretched you one last time. He cooed praise as it finally left you, the emptiness a relief. 

The Master undid your wrist restraints distractedly, too focussed on your dishevelled appearance. The strap across your chest was crushing into your gown-covered breasts, and you knew it would bruise. He traced a finger over the flesh which bulged over the side of the tight strap, but left it in place as he wandered further down your body.

“Hi,” you croaked, beyond grateful to see his face.

He smiled at you in response, before turning his attention to where you were aching.

“Oh, pet…”

He leant over your spread legs, dragging a finger across the soaked skin where the machine had sat. Even air made you sensitive, arousal and lubrication chilling against your swollen pussy as you were exposed to the air of the clinical room.

“Does it hurt?”

You nodded, whimpering, and he pouted.

“I killed them all.”

“Deleted the recordings?”

“They’ll be destroyed as we leave, the TARDIS will back them up. First, I want this on film too.”

With a frown, you tried to discern his meaning.

“You’re so swollen… how long did they leave this on you baby? Did they stretch your pussy out?”

“It hurts…” he loved when you whined, and you noticed the twitch of his lips.

“Can I clean you up?”

You nodded, gasping when he finally reached up to undo the strap across your chest with a single hand. You caught him watching you, gazing with glassy eyes as you rubbed your fingers across the bruised flesh, moaning with relief.

“Be gentle, please.”

His tongue made firm movements, too strong to be teasing but still painfully intimate, cleaning and soothing you with a care that made your heart ache. You jolted as he accidentally brushed your clit, and he apologised, kissing at your inner thigh.

He licked his lips when he was done, and you could see the overhead lights reflected in a glimmer of your arousal on his nose. He wiped it off roughly with his sleeve when he noticed you staring, before grinning at you.

“Ready to go? I parked the TARDIS outside.”

“My hero,” you smiled, letting him help you on to shaky legs, giving you a moment to even remember how to walk.

You could tell he was hard from how he walked, trying to nonchalantly button his coat. Your hand crept down to undo the button as he guided you arm in arm to the ship, but he batted you away.

“Are you sure? I can…”

“You’ve already done more than enough doll. Did you enjoy that?”

“Um, sort of?”

He stopped, adjusting his grip to force you still too. His eyes were intense, panicking as he searched yours for meaning, for resentment. 

“Wait, what?”

“It was great, I just hope I never have to do it again.”

“Bad?”

“Not at all! Just… once in a lifetime.”

He pulled you close to him, hugging you against his side and mumbling apologies as he kissed your forehead. 

“Certainly preferable to other methods of torture, I think.” 

You tried to joke and he laughed for your sake, but his face was hidden from you. You could sense his concern.

“You’re okay, though?”

“Now that you’re here.”

You tasted yourself as you kissed him.

[cutsiewitch]

A Mechanic’s Worries about Pilots.

A gifted mechanic is called in to service a pilot. As The Mechanic begins to head towards her station to work on the pilot, she can’t help but ruminate on her feelings about pilots. She honestly doesn’t like them.

It’s not a personal thing, she’s sure that they were great people at one point, but it’s hard to see them like that anymore. She finds the whole thing creepy and offputting. She see’s what they do to pilots, knows how they’re made. She probably understands the process more than anybody on the base. She’s a prodigy in mecha suit engineering, which also includes pilot systems.

It makes her uncomfortable. The pilots are treated like objects, tools of war. That’s what they are too, what they’re made to be. Their skulls are full of tech that hooks them straight into their mechs, their brains fried with dopamine and other kinds of chemical soup to reward them when they shoot targets into slag. They even end up sharing the space in their head with the onboard ai’s of their mechs. They’re locked into the mechanical nerves and metal muscles of the mech. It makes them amazing killing machines, but their minds are practically crippled outside of the suits, raw and untethered, ungrounded.

The weirdest thing to her is they seem so happy. It doesn’t even look like it’s just the chemicals, it can’t be. They like it, whatever fucked up experience they’re having, it’s making them happy as can be. They want to get back into the suits, they want to push more. They like getting bossed around like dogs by their handlers. They love their ai’s almost like some weird fusion of a lover, a sibling, and a reflection. They can barely even articulate how they feel, most don’t bother, but The Mechanic has worked in this business long enough to learn anyways.

She gets to her workshop. It’s honestly kind of pathetic, barely worthy of the name. She knows that the pilots are treated as tools, but mechanics aren’t treated much better. Human but still not really worthy of respect. They work her and the other mechanics like slaves, cramping them into the crawl spaces where stuff needs fixing. Even with her advanced position all they afford her is this broom closet from hell. The room is cramped and humid, like a small metal sauna. It’s still marginally better than the communal workshop. Even with the bigger and more open room it still somehow manages to be claustrophobic and hot.

The Pilot is already there, sitting on her workbench, completely naked. The Mechanic isn’t surprised, but her face still burns with heat as she blushes when seeing The Pilot’s bare ass resting on the same giant hunk of tungsten-steel alloy she uses to fix delicate parts and machinery. The Pilot’s augs are invasive and take up a good portion of its body. Its arms, its legs, and a good portion of its back are more machine than human at this point. Normally the jumpsuits account for this, but those would get in the way of repairs. Normal clothes would too, and developing some kind of modesty cover for them is more trouble than it’s worth for the higher ups. They don’t have to deal with the nudity, and it’s not like the pilots even care.

The Mechanic wipes the sweat from her brow and crosses the room. She doesn’t actually acknowledge The Pilot aside from the blushing, but The Pilot’s gaze follows her as she makes her way over to a box of tools. She sets the box down next to The pilots thigh and pulls over the ratty stool she uses for a chair.

She starts servicing The Pilot. She pulls out delicate tools and with ingrained precision she begins opening up The Pilot’s augs, starting with the legs and going up. She hooks its systems up to an old box of a diagnostics unit and begins manually inspecting the parts. She pulls wires aside with tiny fractions of force and checks on the tiny sensors and servos that are no bigger than her fingernail, cleaning them with tiny swabs and lubricating them with drops of oil.

The entire time she keeps hearing weird noises. Soft whines and sounds of scraping play at the edge of her attention, distracting her just the tiniest amount. The Mechanic can’t tell where the noises are coming from, and it’s bothering the shit out of her. When she takes a step back to unfocus and wipe the sweat from her forehead, she sees where it’s coming from.

It’s the pilot. It’s breathing heavily, like it’s exhausted. Its face is almost as flushed as The Mechanic’s when she walked in. The metal tips of its fingers scratch at the polished surface of her workbench. Jesus fucking christ, was The Pilot turned on right now? With the face it was making it had to be.

Fuck, now The Mechanic was thrown way off. It was already hard enough to try and pretend this was just normal machine servicing when all of the machinery was attached to a sweaty, naked girl, it was impossible to do it when she knew it was getting off to her poking around in its augments.

The Mechanic just couldn’t get back into the same groove she had before. Every stifled moan disrupted her concentration. Every squirm messed up her precise motions. Everything just kept bringing her back into the moment, where her face was inches away from the pilot’s crotch.

The Mechanic slogged through the rest of the grueling work, doing her best to try and travel into that little place in the back of her mind where she could just stop thinking and do what she was good at. She finished with the legs and then told the pilot directly to lay down so she could begin on her arms.

The Pilot laid down like it was told. The Mechanic scooted her stool forward and raised the seat for a better vantage. In the end the new position wasn’t all that much better than the old. The Pilot’s left arm was cradled on The Mechanic’s lap while she popped it open and began working on it.

It was more of the same. Nothing wrong but basic cleanup, which meant The Mechanic wouldn’t be busy enough to zone out. She could see its face clearly now. It looked so human, so lively. When she pressed a sensor its hand tensed and squirmed, pushing against her stomach a bit. A tugged wire elicited a slight yip of surprise. It felt so carnal, to dig into this things innards and just mess around.

Seeing it like this, The Mechanic couldn’t help but wonder about the difference between the two. Right now it looked just as human as she was, so she couldn’t apply the same cold business mentality she usually did with her work. She felt like they were almost one in the same. I mean, look at it, being a pilot can’t be so bad, right?

The Mechanic’s thoughts ground to a halt. Her surprise was so sudden it caused her to tweak a wire hard enough to get The Pilot to let out a proper yelp. Neither could tell if it was a yelp of pleasure or pain.

What had she just thought? Seriously, what the hell was that? Was she serious? Of course being a pilot is bad, being treated like a mindless dog, worked like a machine, and used like a toy. The Mechanic barely knew where that thought had even come from. I mean, it and her were nothing alike.

The Mechanic stewed in those thoughts, trying to reassure herself that she was nothing like it. She wasn’t an it. The Mechanic was a person, and it was just a pilot. The Mechanic tried her best to just focus on the work, but she couldn’t. The thoughts bothered her so much, and she really couldn’t dismiss them.

Because they were alike, very much alike. Not in the sense that The Pilot was a person. In the sense that The Mechanic wasn’t.

The Mechanic couldn’t help but feel it. She was a cog in a much larger machine, a tiny piece. She was treated almost the same as The Pilot

The Mechanic was worked like a dog. She was given shit conditions and forced to do shittier things. She was expendable, one in a million. You could point to almost any outward aspect of the two of them and they would match up.

The thing that frustrated The Mechanic even more was how they were the same on the inside too.

The Mechanic knew what it felt like to become something bigger. Working in the engineering wing was like being in a hive mind. You’re practically shoulder to shoulder with the people next to you. You become parts of the same whole, you work together, you sweat together, you create together. She can’t even remember how many times she had needed something, a part, a tool, a towel, anything, and a mechanic next to her had just known, and given it to her. She knew she had done the same for others all the time.

She could admit to feeling like an it sometimes. Stripped of your identity, down to everything but your use. She didn’t know The Pilot’s name, and The Pilot probably didn’t know her’s. She was a mechanic. She was nothing but the job she did. A function, not a person.

Her head pounded as she adjusted her grip on The Pilot’s arm. Her head buzzed and it felt like her brain was melting in the heat of the room. She could imagine the wires burning up and melting their rubber casings. The copper and metal fusing together into a frenzied mess as her thoughts jumbled into each other.

She shook her head violently. God she was losing it! Her brain wasn’t made of wires, it was made of meat! She wasn’t overheating, she was just getting some kind of headache. She closed up the first arm, not even sure if she was really done, and told the pilot to swap sides through gritted teeth.

She wanted things to be simpler. She wanted to stop thinking. She just wanted to do her job. The Mechanic missed the engineering floor. She missed the absent thrum as she worked alongside her fellow workers, their thoughts synchronizing into a beautiful and productive symphony. She wanted to be a part of that, of it. She just wanted to be a Mechanic, that was so much easier than all of this.

Is that why pilot’s are so happy? Are they so content because that’s what it feels like? The Mechanic thought about it in her own terms. Would she give up her body to work more efficiently? Would she open up her mind, just to be even closer with the other mechanics? Would she shed all of the cumbersome weight that thinking like a person had, and just become a simple and unbothered it?

The answer was yes. The Mechanic wanted that. The simple, pure existence of it. The Mechanic wanted to be that, and nothing more. When it realized that, it had a much easier time working on The Pilot’s arm.

It finished up The Pilot’s back in no time too. Without all of the messy thoughts clogging up its head, the whole thing went smoothly. The Pilot was sent on her way, on wobbly legs and with shaky breath. The Mechanic might have messed with it a bit more than necessary, but it liked to consider that a reward, for good behavior.

The Mechanic realized it wanted a bit of a career shift. It thought that if being a mechanic was good, then being a pilot must be great! It loved working on machines, but it wanted that sense of empty completion even more. Plus, it’s not like it won’t be allowed to also do mechanic work still. It would be a lot better for everyone if it got to service its own mech. It would be a win win. The Mechanic wiped down its workbench for the last time, and with renewed vigor, went to sign up to become a pilot.

[stillalivedcingscience]

Objectum tumblr, we need to talk about Machines

sorry this is not specific to computers or cars, I’m not well versed with those, but of course some of this does apply to those

hydraulically actuated machines are more my specialty

do you realize what machines are - how they’re made - how they function?

they are just like us

multiple systems coming together into something incredible, beautiful

lubricant to keep moving parts free to move easily

they often even have brains - computers - veins - hydraulic hoses

i could go on

but their many parts are what’s on my mind right now … the way they are assembled, built

interchangeable parts, many bits that manipulate the forces of nature to produce something whole … the engineering of them is beyond words to me

“some assembly required” is my dream objectum lover, it humbles my heart, softens my eyes

[minimac-mspl]

The Role of Filtration Systems in Keeping Clean Oil

Introduction

Have you ever thought about what makes your machinery last so long? Let’s uncover the secret to its durability.

In the manufacturing industry, machines are essential for keeping production running smoothly. However, with daily operation, machine oil becomes contaminated with debris and wear particles, which raises the risk of breakdowns and unexpected shutdowns.

This is where “filtration systems” become essential.

Filtration systems work on stage-wise filtration technology to remove the solid particles of lubricating and hydraulic oil to increase the life of the machine and reduce the cost.

Importance of clean oil:

Improved Performance: Clean oil ensures that machinery operates at its best.

Extended Equipment Life: An oil-free environment leads to less long-wearing mechanisms, hence a longer machinery lifespan.

Reduced Maintenance Cost: Maintenance costs are reduced as clean oil lowers the frequency of required repairs, thus saving money in the long run.

Less Downtime: Reduced probability of breakdowns leads to better, regular, and predictable working operations.

Types of Oil Contamination

The top three ways oil can become contaminated:

Foreign Particles: Dust, dirt, and metal particles can flow into the oil.

Moisture mixed with oil: oil pollution in the water, oil will rust, and so on.

Chemical Contamination: Acids and sludge begin to form that can degrade the oil.

Basics of filtration systems:

There are two types of oil filtration: mechanical type and chemical type. Each type has its mechanism and usage.

1) Mechanical Filtration:

Mechanical filtration systems use physical barriers to remove contaminants from oil. These barriers can be anything from mesh screens to paper filters.

Mechanical filters trap particles as oil passes through them. The size of the particles removed depends on the pore size of the filter media.

Common Applications

Industrial machinery

Hydraulic systems

Turbine Systems

Gear oil

Water Glycol

Benefits

Simple to use and maintain

Effective at removing large particles

Cost-effective

2) Chemical Filtration

Chemical Filtration Chemical filtration is the method of filtering oil in the same way as physical and mechanical removal of impurities but using chemicals to do so. This can range from surface reaction in the form of adsorption on a material.

Filters are mainly activated carbon and have adsorbents that hold the contaminants firm.

Common Applications

Waste oil filtering in the food industry

Pharmaceuticals

Fine chemical production

Benefits

Removes tiny particles and dissolved chemicals

Designed to Eliminate Odours and Colours

Benefits of Using Advanced Lubrication

Advanced lubrication, facilitated by high-quality filtration systems, offers several benefits:

Prolonged Machinery Life: Clean oil reduces wear, leading to longer-lasting equipment.

Less Downtime: More breakdowns mean less reliability and efficiency.

Cost savings: When something breaks down fewer times, it costs the owner/laborer to maintain and mend it frequently.

Environmental Advantages: This cleaner oil reduces the industrial impact on the ecosystem by reducing waste and pollution.

Maintenance and Servicing of Filtration Systems

Regular Inspections: Regular checks will make sure that if there is a problem, one can be informed of that and take precautions to correct it, rather than getting a problem and remaining undetected, causing a great issue later on.

Filter replacement: ensures peak performance and prevents clogging due to timely filter replacement.

System Cleanliness: The filtration system in its entirety should be kept clean to optimize its function and to make it last longer.

Choosing the Right Filtration System

Selecting the right filtration system involves considering several factors:

Type of Machinery: Different machines have different filtration requirements.

Nature of Operations: The type of work and environment can affect the type of contaminants present.

Type of Contaminants: Identifying the specific contaminants in your oil helps choose the most effective filtration system.

Consulting with experts and conducting a thorough assessment of your machinery and operations can help in making the right choice.

Conclusion

Filtration systems are integral to the longevity and efficiency of machinery in the manufacturing industry. A clean oil system doesn’t just save you money in reduced maintenance costs; it also means less wear and tear on the system, which means longer life and less downtime. Courtesy of some assistance that comes your way when you have regular, suitable maintenance. After choosing the correct filtration solution for your specifications, you can enjoy such benefits and run smoothly every single time.

For More Information — Click Here

[kaijuposting]

Jaegers of Pacific Rim: What do we know about them?

There's actually a fair amount of lore about Pacific Rim's jaegers, though most of it isn't actually in the movie itself. A lot of it has been scattered in places like Pacific Rim: Man, Machines, & Monsters, Tales From Year Zero, Travis Beacham's blog, and the Pacific Rim novelization.

Note that I will not be including information from either Pacific Rim: Uprising or Pacific Rim: The Black. Uprising didn't really add anything, and The Black's take on jaegers can easily be summed up as "simplified the concept to make a cartoon for children."

So what is there to know about jaegers, besides the fact that they're piloted by two people with their brains connected via computer?

Here's a fun fact: underneath the hull (which may or may not be pure iron), jaegers have "muscle strands" and liquid data transfer technology. Tendo Choi refers to them in the film when describing Lady Danger's repairs and upgrades:

Solid iron hull, no alloys. Forty engine blocks per muscle strand. Hyper-torque driver for every limb and a new fluid synapse system.

The novelization by Alex Irvine makes frequent references to this liquid data transfer tech. For example:

The Jaeger’s joints squealed and began to freeze up from loss of lubricant through the holes Knifehead had torn in it. Its liquid-circuit neural architecture was misfiring like crazy. (Page 29.)

He had enough fiber-optic and fluid-core cabling to get the bandwidth he needed. (Page 94.)

Newt soldered together a series of leads using the copper contact pins and short fluid-core cables. (Page 96.)

Unfortunately I haven't found anything more about the "muscle strands" and what they might be made of, but I do find it interesting that jaegers apparently have some sort of artificial muscle system going on, especially considering Newt's personnel dossier in the novel mentioned him pioneering research in artificial tissue replication at MIT.

The novelization also mentions that the pilots' drivesuits have a kind of recording device for their experiences while drifting:

This armored outer layer included a Drift recorder that automatically preserved sensory impressions. (Page 16.)

It was connected through a silver half-torus that looked like a travel pillow but was in fact a four-dimensional quantum recorder that would provide a full record of the Drift. (Page 96.)

This is certainly... quite the concept. Perhaps the PPDC has legitimate reasons for looking through the memories and feelings of their pilots, but let's not pretend this doesn't enable horrific levels of privacy invasion.

I must note, though, I haven't seen mention of a recording system anywhere outside of the novel. Travis Beacham doesn't mention it on his blog, and it never comes up in either Tales From Year Zero or Tales From The Drift, both written by him. Whether there just wasn't any occasion to mention it or whether this piece of worldbuilding fell by the wayside in Beacham's mind is currently impossible to determine.

Speaking of the drivesuits, let's talk about those more. The novelization includes a few paragraphs outlining how the pilots' drivesuits work. It's a two-layer deal:

The first layer, the circuity suit, was like a wetsuit threaded with a mesh of synaptic processors. The pattern of processor relays looked like circuitry on the outside of the suit, gleaming gold against its smooth black polymer material. These artificial synapses transmitted commands to the Jaeger’s motor systems as fast as the pilot’s brain could generate them, with lag times close to zero. The synaptic processor array also transmitted pain signals to the pilots when their Jaeger was damaged.

...

The second layer was a sealed polycarbonate shell with full life support and magnetic interfaces at spine, feet, and all major limb joints. It relayed neural signals both incoming and outgoing. This armored outer layer included a Drift recorder that automatically preserved sensory impressions.

...

The outer armored layer of the drivesuit also kept pilots locked into the Conn-Pod’s Pilot Motion Rig, a command platform with geared locks for the Rangers’ boots, cabled extensors that attached to each suit gauntlet, and a full-spectrum neural transference plate, called the feedback cradle, that locked from the Motion Rig to the spine of each Ranger’s suit. At the front of the motion rig stood a command console, but most of a Ranger’s commands were issued either by voice or through interaction with the holographic heads-up display projected into the space in front of the pilots’ faces. (Page 16.)

Now let's talk about the pons system. According to the novelization:

The basics of the Pons were simple. You needed an interface on each end, so neuro signals from the two brains could reach the central bridge. You needed a processor capable of organizing and merging the two sets of signals. You needed an output so the data generated by the Drift could be recorded, monitored, and analyzed. That was it. (Page 96.)

This is pretty consistent with other depictions of the drift, recording device aside. (Again, the 4D quantum recorder never comes up anywhere outside of the novel.)

The development of the pons system as we know it is depicted in Tales From Year Zero, which goes into further detail on what happened after Trespasser's attack on San Francisco. In this comic, a jaeger can be difficult to move if improbably calibrated. Stacker Pentecost testing out a single arm describes the experience as feeling like his hand is stuck in wet concrete; Doctor Caitlin Lightcap explains that it's resistance from the datastream because the interface isn't calibrated to Pentecost's neural profile. (I'm guessing that this is the kind of calibration the film refers to when Tendo Choi calls out Lady Danger's left and right hemispheres being calibrated.)

According to Travis Beacham's blog, solo piloting a jaeger for a short time is possible, though highly risky. While it won't cause lasting damage if the pilot survives the encounter, the neural overload that accumulates the longer a pilot goes on can be deadly. In this post he says:

It won't kill you right away. May take five minutes. May take twenty. No telling. But it gets more difficult the longer you try. And at some point it catches up with you. You won't last a whole fight start-to-finish. Stacker and Raleigh managed to get it done and unplug before hitting that wall.

In this post he says:

It starts off fine, but it's a steep curve from fine to dead. Most people can last five minutes. Far fewer can last thirty. Nobody can last a whole fight.

Next, let's talk about the size and weight of jaegers. Pacific Rim: Man, Machines, & Monsters lists off the sizes and weights of various jaegers. The heights of the jaegers it lists (which, to be clear, are not all of them) range from 224 feet to 280 feet. Their weights range from 1850 tons to 7890 tons. Worth noting, the heaviest jaegers (Romeo Blue and Horizon Brave) were among the Mark-1s, and it seems that these heavy builds didn't last long given that another Mark-1, Coyote Tango, weighed 2312 tons.

And on the topic of jaeger specs, each jaeger in Pacific Rim: Man, Machines, & Monsters is listed with a (fictional) power core and operating system. For example, Crimson Typhoon is powered by the Midnight Orb 9 power core, and runs on the Tri-Sun Plasma Gate OS.

Where the novelization's combat asset dossiers covers the same jaegers, this information lines up - with the exception of Lady Danger. PR:MMM says that Lady Danger's OS is Blue Spark 4.1; the novelization's dossier says it's BLPK 4.1.

PR:MMM also seems to have an incomplete list of the jaegers' armaments; for example, it lists the I-22 Plasmacaster under Weaponry, and "jet kick" under Power Moves. Meanwhile, the novelization presents its armaments thus:

I-22 Plasmacaster Twin Fist gripping claws, left arm only Enhanced balance systems and leg-integral Thrust Kickers Enhanced combat-strike armature on all limbs

The novel's dossiers list between 2-4 features in the jaegers' armaments sections.

Now let's move on to jaeger power cores. As many of you probably already know, Mark-1-3 jaegers were outfitted with nuclear power cores. However, this posed a risk of cancer for pilots, especially during the early days. To combat this, pilots were given the (fictional) anti-radiation drug, Metharocin. (We see Stacker Pentecost take Metharocin in the film.)

The Mark-4s and beyond were fitted with alternative fuel sources, although their exact nature isn't always clear. Striker Eureka's XIG supercell chamber implies some sort of giant cell batteries, but it's a little harder to guess what Crimson Typhoon's Midnight Orb 9 might be, aside from round.

Back on the topic of nuclear cores, though, the novelization contains a little paragraph about the inventor of Lady Danger's power core, which I found entertaining:

The old nuclear vortex turbine lifted away from the reactor housing. The reactor itself was a proprietary design, brainchild of an engineer who left Westinghouse when they wouldn’t let him use his lab to explore portable nuclear miniaturization tech. He’d landed with one of the contractors the PPDC brought in at its founding, and his small reactors powered many of the first three generations of Jaegers. (Page 182.)

Like... I have literally just met this character, and I love him. I want him to meet Newt Geiszler, you know? >:3

Apparently, escape pods were a new feature to Mark-3 jaegers. Text in the novelization says, "New to the Mark III is an automated escape-pod system capable of ejecting each Ranger individually." (Page 240.)

Finally, jaegers were always meant to be more than just machines. Their designs and movements were meant to convey personality and character. Pacific Rim: Man, Machines, & Monsters says:

Del Toro insisted the Jaegers be characters in and of themselves, not simply giant versions of their pilots. Del Toro told his designers, "It should be as painful for you to see a Jaeger get injured as it is for you to see the pilot [get hurt.]" (Page 56.)

Their weathered skins are inspired by combat-worn vehicles from the Iraq War and World War II battleships and bombers. They look believable and their design echoes human anatomy, but only to a point. "At the end of the day, what you want is for them to look cool," says Francisco Ruiz Velasco. "It's a summer movie, so you want to see some eye candy." Del Toro replies, "I, however, believe in 'eye protein,' which is high-end design with a high narrative content." (Page 57.)

THE JAEGER FROM DOWN UNDER is the only Mark 5, the most modern and best all-around athlete of the Jaegers. He's also the most brutal of the Jaeger force. Del Toro calls him "sort of brawler, like a bar fighter." (Page 64.)

And that is about all the info I could scrounge up and summarize in a post. I think there's a lot of interesting stuff here - like, I feel that the liquid circuit and muscle tissue stuff gives jaegers an eerily organic quality that could be played for some pretty interesting angles. And I also find it interesting that jaegers were meant to embody their own sort of character and personality, rather than just being simple combat machines or extensions of their pilots - it's a great example of a piece of media choosing thematic correctness over technical correctness, which when you get right down to it, is sort of what Pacific Rim is really all about.

[infinityactual]

Quitting my job tomorrow.

I'm lucky to have the financial ability to do so, and I'm tired of being a cog in a legal ponzi scheme machine that's lubricated by blood, tears and money. I'm tired of my boss verbatim calling our customers liars. I'm tired of 'They aren't mad at YOU, let it go and move on' being given in response to us complaining about customers being (rightly) irate over recent changes to the phone routing system that was changed with zero notice (we literally walked in one day and the directory was completely different and close to half of the numbers are non functional and have to be dialed manually in a different program now). I'm tired of shitty agents scraping their customers off on us for questions we can't answer. I'm tired of back to back calls for five years solid and watching the queue grow from 10 daily to 70 daily, with no extra help hired on.

Fuck em. If they can't be arsed to care, I can't be arsed to show up and do my job.

[thewizardcouncil]

Remember, when you create golems or any other automaton fueled by the mystic arts, Article III section 14.3 subsection C of "Non-sentient or partially sentient magical entities of labor" categorizes them as 'employees' not as a machine or equipment.

As such they are automatically entitled to the following benefits:

Maintenance and repair for any material considered to be part of the necessary hull/structure of said automaton within 1 week of occurrence of damage while in the duty performing work

1 free mystic upgrade to the semi-intelligent operating aether system per year

Lubrication of joints or material to perform lubrication themselves twice per week minimum.

Free inspection after 10,000 operational cycles

1 free download of 'Rights and regulations of automatons' latest version per year

[musicf0rever]

Black History Month! Elijah McCoy invented the oil cup lubricator system for railroads.

McCoy’s success created many imitators as the lubricator moved into other industries such as shipping and on factory machines. As his reputation spread, buyers became wary of the cheap imitations and would ask for “the real McCoy.”

[livestosave]

The Extent of James' Prosthetics

Obviously some tw for fairly graphic injuries and blood and medical things.

Even before losing his left arm at Beacon, James' body was - technically - more than half made of prosthetics, though much of that extent was not obvious even if one were to see his exterior prosthetics.

The trouble came from the sheer extent of the damage that was done, and how experimental prosthetics like James' were at the time. And nothing to the extent that James required had been done before. He should have died in the snow before he was found and brought home. But even when they started, they ran into a problem.

Much of James' right side was shattered beyond repair, bones broken in so many places from a long fall with no aura and a manticore biting down on his torso. His hip was collapsed, his lung little more than shredded meat. His internals had been exposed to the icy elements for over a day without an aura, and frostbite had settled deep into the tissues, including parts of his intestines and his liver. His spine had broken in the fall and left him paralyzed on the right side and mostly below the waist.

It was...a lot of damage to repair. Had they not replaced much of it, he would have had serious quality of life problems, including strict diets that would have left him quite unable to maintain the muscle needed to be a huntsman or soldier.

So, Goodkind authorized the use of experimental prosthetics. If James might die anyway, or have such a hard life after, he wanted to have tried everything he could. Part of this agreement means that James' prosthetics are also case studies, and while his name isn't on those studies, most doctors who work on him and see the prosthetics tend to know who he is.

As a result, James has some very visible prosthetics...and some some very hidden. His entire digestive tract is mechanical, as is his liver and one kidney. It means he can eat almost anything and extract what he needs, he actually has a more efficient digestive system than most humans or fauni, but his poison filtration is also far better...which functionally means alcohol and most oral medication don't work on him. It makes him almost impossible to drug through normal means.

His right lung is also a machine, and when the panels of his chest are opened it can be hooked up to external machines to either keep him 'breathing' even while paralyzed, or can be removed to allow replacement should it take damage. Because of this, if he takes a serious blow to the chest without his aura, he can actually cough up various fluids like lubricant and oil.

While it's crude, and James never speaks of it, he also does not have a penis anymore. He could if he wanted to, and these days Atlas tech would make it pretty cool, but he's never felt any need for it. He just doesn't. One of his prosthetics supplies the hormones that he would otherwise have produced down there, though he does require regular visits to the doctor to ensure such production is adequate as he ages.

Because of this, James' right side also doesn't have any blood or biological fluid in it, and is functionally less a prosthetic than a full cybernetic/mechanical replacement. While he has some ability to sense pressure along his fairly crude synthetic nerves, it's nowhere near the level that a more modern replacement like Yang's would provide, and he can only feel vague pressure. He also cannot feel temperature along that side, meaning he has more than once miscalculated what a normal person would be able to touch.

As a result of the synthetic nerve load and the connections they required, his spine also required full replacement. There are connectors and the full thing can be removed for maintenance, leaving James fully paralyzed aside from his head. His neurotransmitter primarily communicates with his spine to control his limbs, mimicking a normal brain-spinal column relationship rather than directly communicating to his limbs. This is mostly a limitation of the time as well, as the neurotransmitter was the most experimental of what was put into James' body during that initial period. Because of that experimental nature, he suffers chronic migraines as a result of the neurotransmitter's connection to his brain and spine.

Separate from the initial wave of prosthetics, James survived an assassination attempt early in his tenure as Headmaster (and General) that resulted in his heart requiring replacement. This was comparatively simple, and while there is a scar across his chest from the initial stabbing that caused the replacement, this prosthetic is more modern and easier to handle. His heart ticks rather than 'beats' but otherwise this prosthetic is easily missed.

All of this has resulted in a few other chronic physical issues and side effects, some of which are obvious and some are subtle.

Negatively, James has significantly less of his body powered by organic fluids, and he has much, much less blood than a man his size should. When his aura breaks, he has to be very mindful of any bleeding, because he can very quickly go into shock as a result of comparatively little damage. He suffers chronic migraines, as mentioned, and headaches are so normal he barely remembers being fully clear-headed. Chronic fatigue and insomnia make a potent cocktail, and as half his body doesn't fatigue the same way as normal man's might, he can struggle to get to sleep. He also - despite being very warm to the touch - very rarely feels warm, as a result of the amount of metal fused to his body. He suffers near-constant phantom pain that flares regularly, and because he cannot take most oral medication, most medications that might help with it don't work on him.

On the flip-side, his already extreme strength is now inhuman, letting him accomplish feats most people can only imagine. His blood-pressure only raises with physical exertion or emotion, preventing him from suffering most heart-related complications, and his blood filters very well keeping him pretty healthy. His mechanical lung means he can almost always breathe pretty steadily and get good oxygen, barring contaminants in the air. He can eat basically whatever he wants within some reason, so long as it isn't totally unhealthy, as his digestive system can handle anything humanly edible with ease, and even some not-humanly edible things. He also suffers significantly less from the ills of age as he gets older, as half of his body is somewhat unfailing: his right hand will never become arthritic, he'll never struggle to get on his feet, he'll never throw out his back, his posture will never screw up his spine, and his heart will never give him trouble. Hells, half of him will never even go numb/"fall asleep" like most folks might in certain bad positions.

All of this results in James feeling very disconnected from his humanity in a lot of ways, despite his personality being that of a protector and defender. Advice he gives to students, soldiers, and friends to rest and eat rarely seem to apply to himself, as his body will handle almost any abuse he puts it through. And, if he survives any particularly terrible thing...he knows he'll likely just. Add more metal to his body.

On a good day, he might even crack a joke about being a living Ship of Theseus, to a close friend. On a bad one, he thinks his worst nightmare is what might happen when he eventually takes so much damage that they might replace the rest of him, rather than letting him just die.

[drowned-cypress]

Real world substitutes for Subnautica Below Zero ingredients

If you were to make a recipe out of the ingredients in Subnautica Below Zero, what could you even make? If you want to make recipes, you have to know what you're working with. With alien ingredients that don't exist in real life, that takes a lot of guesswork. Here's my best guesses for what you could use as substitutes for Subnautica Below Zero ingredients to make recipes in real life. Some of them are obvious, some of them take a little explanation. They're sorted by the approximate order you find them in the game.

Non-Fish Ingredients:

Nutrient block - Protein powder

Bullseye Shrooms - Mushrooms

Creepvine Seeds - Vegetable oil (or any other plant oil, like olive oil.) - Okay this requires some explanation; the game shows creepvine seeds as being consumable for 10 water content, but they provide no nutrition, and their databank entry says that "the embryo is surrounded by a thick layer of oil and silicone." Apparently they don't hurt you if you eat them. Sufficiently refined silicone is considered body safe and inert, but eating it is not recommended because it might cause choking, digestive blockage, or even blood vessel blockage. It's also possible to get silicone poisoning, especially from liquid silicone, so it would be better to extract the oil from the silicone and seeds, and not just eat lubricant. You could probably process the seeds to get just the oil out by crushing them and straining them with some fiber mesh. Or you could jailbreak your fabricator and get it to extract the oil directly the same way you get benzene out of flowering spores.

Creepvine Samples - Seaweed

Salt Deposit - Sea salt

Frost Anemone Hearts - Artichoke Hearts

Horseshoe Shrub Nuts - Almonds, Hazelnuts, Cashews, Peanuts, Coconuts, or Water Chestnuts

Coffee - It's not even real coffee. Just get the cheapest, plainest coffee you can possibly find. What are they even stocking the machine with?

Gel Sack - Unflavored gelatin

Fevered Peppers - The spiciest peppers you can possibly find at your supermarket. Or ghost peppers if you can find them. I would use Jalapeno, Serrano, or one of those tiny spicy chilies you can find at Asian markets such as Chinese red peppers.

Lantern Fruit - Mango, Apple, or Peach. I think mango is the best match just based on vibes, but I don't actually like mango that much so I might replace it with apple or peach. There is actually a fruit called Chinese lantern that exists in real life, but they look nothing like what you see in Subnautica, so I didn't think it was analogous.

Snacks - There's three kinds: mixed chips, rice snacks, and potato mix, so do with that what you will.

Chinese Potatoes - There are no potatoes native to China, so pick whatever potato you want. Personally, I'd pick Yukon Gold.

Antennae Fruit - Butternut Squash (or some texturally similar, hard skinned squash such as Kabocha Squash) Had to really think about this, but there really is no real world analogue, so I just went based on fruit shape.

Marblemelon - Watermelon, or some other melon like honeydew or cantaloupe if you want.

Preston's Delight - Plums, Blackberries, or Blueberries. I think plums have the closest vibe. Described as being a sweet fruiting berry. The fruit contains a paralytic agent that humans are unable to properly metabolize, but for certain animals it can act as something of a mild sedative. This means the paralytic agent passes through the human digestive system without breaking down and doesn't affect humans, but may cause mild discomfort in large quantities akin to eating sugar alcohols.

Preston's Plant Leaves - Cabbage. Described as having semi-transulcent leaves. It is hardy and capable of growing in even the harshest of climates. It always struck me as waxy looking, and it would need to be in order to not break down quickly like most greens.

More below the cut.

Fish - Some of these fish don't really have a good real world analogue, but I did my best. Other than the few that have very definitive flavors, you could probably make a case for using any kind of fish you want.

Arctic Peeper - A mild white fish, preferably a cold water species. Chilean Sea Bass is probably the closest match, since its range extends into the Antarctic.

Bladderfish - Beef jerky. When they're cured they're described as reminiscent of jerky.

Boomerang - They're described as being tough but flavorsome. Herring is probably the best match because they're forage fish and have a strong flavor, but you could probably pick something with an even stronger flavor like mackerel. I don't know enough about unpopular edible fish to tell you which fish are tough, but also why would you want to make a recipe with that?

Hoopfish - They're described as actually tasting like fish. This is entirely unhelpful because the taste of fish varies a lot. Go with something ubiquitous like cod or salmon.

Spinner Fish - Orange juice??? No seriously, the description for cured spinner fish says, "Against all odds, it tastes like a popular brand of Alterra orange juice." I'm absolutely fascinated with the implications of this. If you made fish stock out of them, would it still taste like orange juice? Do they taste like orange juice because they have a high concentration of citric acid in their tissues? Could you use the fabricator to extract pure citric acid from them? I need to know!

Symbiote - They're described as lean and tasting like reconstituted lobster. I have no idea what the reconstituted part implies here, but the best match is apparently lobster. If that's too expensive, try artificial crab, maybe.

Feather Fish - When cooked it says they tickle the back of the throat; when cured it says they're waxy and melt in your mouth. Other than that, there's no hint as to what they might taste like.

Spinefish - They're described as being entirely bland, so the best match is probably whiting or tilapia.

Triops - Catfish my beloved~ Okay fine, they probably taste more like mudfish, but I actually have access to catfish, so we're going with that.

Red Feather Fish - The description says they're "fluffy with a bit of a kick" which implies they're kind of spicy. That has more to do with the recipe than the fish species. Use a flaky white fish to get a fluffy texture and pick a spicy recipe.

Arrow Ray - Stingray. Apparently stingrays are actually edible, but you probably won't be able to find them in a local grocery store. Arrow rays are also described as odorless and crispy and delicious when cured. Just pick the most delicious dried fish you can find if you want to go that route.

Noot Fish - I do noot know. The descriptions used the opportunity to make puns instead of describing the flavor. Pick your favorite carnivorous fish.

Discus Fish - Described as tasting like hot plastic. I'm not sure I even want to try.

Those ingredient lists are quite limited, but there are a few things we could process further to give us even more ingredients.

Vegetable and/or fish broth or stock

Make "orange juice" from spinner fish. It's just fish stock.

Extract citric acid from spinner fish using the fabricator. Half a teaspoon of citric acid powder in two tablespoons of water is the equivalent of two tablespoons of lemon juice for cooking purposes.

If we're going the route of extracting stuff with the fabricator, you could absolutely get sugar from fruit.

Fruit syrup

Shrub nut butter (like peanut butter or almond butter)

Shrub nut milk (like almond milk)

Shrub nut flour or meal (like almond flour or almond meal)

Shrub nut oil (like peanut oil)

Shrub nut cheese (I have personally tried making almond cheese before. It is almost, but not quite, entirely unlike cheese. It tastes like if marzipan were savory. Not sure I would recommend it, store bought non-dairy cheeses are much better, but hey, if Robin gets desperate, it does exist. And before anybody asks, the recipe I used did not require a cheese culture, which might have been part of the problem.)

Potato flour

Potato flour pasta

Flatbread made of potato or shrub nut flour

Alcohol made of fruit or potatoes (wine, cider, vodka, or just straight up moonshine.)

Vinegar made of homemade alcohol (this would take a lot of trial and error to do without the correct starter bacteria, but it is technically possible.)

Additionally, there's some things that aren't available in the game but would make sense if they were which I think you should be able to salvage from Alterra bases, hunt, or forage.

Titan Holefish - They are described as slow, stupid, and delicious, and yet you can't eat them? You can't do this to me!

Symbiote Eggs - Symbiotes lay their eggs in the gills of titan holefish. Symbiotes themselves are edible, which means their eggs should be too. Collect the eggs and eat them like caviar or roe.

Pengwing Eggs - Pengwings are birds, and their eggs appear to have a hard shell like Earth bird eggs. I was able to find their eggs on sheltered ice shelves, despite what the PDA says about them incubating their eggs in small cave burrows alongside thermal lily roots. You should be able to eat the eggs, assuming you can find some that have been freshly laid.

Chinese Potato Leaves - According to the abandoned PDA entry in the canteen of the Aurora called "Today's Menu" you can eat Chinese potato leaves. Incidentally, normal potato leaves are poisonous (so don't eat them!) but sweet potato leaves are edible and are supposed to taste kind of like spinach. Either the genetic engineering on the Chinese potato bred them to have edible leaves, or the Chinese potato was bred from a sweet potato (that's less likely; sweet potatoes are a vine and Chinese potatoes are not.) Since sweet potato leaves generally aren’t available in grocery stores, substitute them for spinach.

Spices and Dried Herbs - You're telling me that Alterra didn't leave behind any spices or dried herbs? Not even in the kitchen in Phi Robotics that got crushed in the cave in? Robin didn't even try to excavate that area, but she could have. She has access to a habitat builder to reinforce the cave ceiling and a laser cutter to cut through the walls of the building. Look, all I'm saying is that if the only things I have to season my recipes with are salt, spicy peppers, and creative uses of unusually flavored fish, I'm going to revolt.

Shelf Stable Goods - Shelf stable goods usually include things like baking powder, baking soda, dry yeast, vinegar, oil, canned goods, dehydrated goods, sugar, flour, cereal, candy, pasta, dried beans, grains like rice or oats, seasonings, and condiments. Alterra could have left behind some shelf stable goods shipped in from offworld. They left behind a lot, even personal items, because they were in a hurry to leave, and storage space on vehicles designed to escape atmosphere is limited (just look at Ryley's escape rocket.) There's a line early on in the first Subnautica game that says, "It is common for those accustomed to synthetic foods to be repulsed by eating an animal carcass," implying that Alterrans tend to be used to eating synthetic food. However, we know they weren't just eating nutrient bars because they were growing food in multiple places, and there's a plate of food left behind in Emmanuel's observatory. It's possible they only synthesize meat, or they molecularly rearrange their vegetable goods into shelf stable formats (hence the synthesized moniker.) According to the Aurora's menu, Alterrans eat soup made of tardigrades, rehydrated minced beef with freshly grown mashed Chinese potatoes and sauteed potato leaves, dehydrated desserts (I'm thinking stuff like freeze-dried ice cream,) and dried fruits and nuts, so not all their foods are synthesized. Also according to that data entry, you can reconstitute nutrient bars at a fabricator, so that's interesting.

Feel free to propose your own ingredient substitutes. I'll post some actual recipe ideas later since this is getting long.

Edit: Here's some recipe ideas.