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sightseertrespasser · 11 days ago

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Odds of Survival Part 6

Prowl comes up with a grim but viable theory, misses his ESP (Emotional Support Pterodactyl) and Jazz has a “cultural exchange” with Bluestreak.

Credit to @keferon for creating the AU!

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The cascade of Prowl rapidly drumming his fingers on the console was the only sound in the room. His gaze was fixed a million miles away, boring a hole through the far wall.

Hypothesis: Jazz, and possibly others, were secretly cold constructed by the Functionalists for the sole purpose of fighting Quintesson forces.

Many of Jazz’s eccentricities fell into place within that framework. He lacked a subspace, which would make it very difficult to hold onto personal items or contraband. His anatomy was was entirely specialized for battle, all curved angles, narrow gaps and thick plating. Likewise, Jazz’s subdued reaction to injuries could be accounted for if the Functionalists had removed a large portion of his sensory network and replaced his extremities with non-living metal prosthetics.

Prowl shuddered.

He turned from the physical to the mental. Jazz was smart, undeniably, but also severely starved of information.

The Functionalists were exceedingly well practiced in the art of secrecy and subjugation.

Keeping their custom soldiers in the dark about the greater galaxy would significantly reduce the chances of their mechs trying to escape or revolt. The muting, or possible removal of Jazz’s EM field would prevent him from easily emotionally connecting with other mechs and would hamper his ability to detect malicious intent from any handlers.

That alone could account for Jazz’s extremely tactile extroversion. It could be a form of compensation or maybe just a coping method for the loss of sensation. Add a manufactured language barrier, and even if Jazz had had previous brushes with mechs other than his handlers, he wouldn’t have been able to communicate with them. A perfect isolation tactic ensuring total control.

Until now.

Prowl finally straightened, creating a task list to execute once the ship arrived.

- Get Jazz seen by Velocity immediately. Both to treat his injuries properly and to document any evidence of prior abuse. He trusted her to catch and catalogue details only a medic would know.

- Debrief Elita One. He would need to phrase things carefully to ensure Jazz isn’t unfairly imprisoned or executed for possibly being connected to the Functionalists.

- Awake Green from hibernation. Despite his initial reluctance to interact with his therapist mandated “work-life balance tool”, the organic had grown on him. Further more, his Flyt afforded him an entirely neutral sounding board for times when speaking aloud was the best way to sort his processor.

The theory was good, but Prowl could still feel an itch in his processor. He was still missing something. He rubbed at the heat beginning to build under his helm.

Prowl tacked on a fourth task:

- Stick entire helm inside tub of coolant.

The tactician almost quirked an irritated smile as he made his way back towards his brother and the walking processor ache.

At least the likely hood of Jazz dropping us off another building was lower.

(14%)

Marginally.

For now, the Functionalist Creation Theory was still just that. A theory. He needed more information on where Jazz came from, and for that, they’d need to overcome more of their language barrier.

Thankfully, Bluestreak had offered to assist in catching Jazz up to speed on more Common.

Prowl keyed the door open.

“Frugg!”

Primus help him.

Jazz had his back turned to the door, free hand waving away Bluestreaks mispronunciation.

“Na, no R sounds. It’s Fuck.”

“Fugg!” Bluestreaks face was the picture of determined ambition.

“Getting closer! Now drop the Guh and replace it with Kh.” Jazz nodded encouragingly.

“Fruck!” His brother shouted, servos slapping on his knees.

“Nope, you’re putting an R back in there again. Like this: Fuck. Fuh-uck.” Jazz moved his hand through the air like a conductor, enunciating each Phoneme with clean cut clarity. “Try again, you got this man. Fuck.”

“Fuck.”

Jazz turned around at the perfectly pronounced cuss word.

“Heeey! What’s up mother fragger! How’d the meeting with your slag head boss go?”

Prowl turned on his brother so slowly you could have mounted a telescope on him. “Adequately.”

Prowl continued his one sided stare down with Bluestreak, who was lightly clapping his hands together while seemingly fascinated with the far wall.

Jazz was laughing again. “Don’t be too disappointed in him. I do have a much better understanding of Common now.” He stood taking the anesthetic tape with him.

“Aight, it’s your turn, sit down.” Jazz patted the bench.

Prowl broke his stare down and cycled his optics. Bluestreak stopped pretending to stare at the wall.

“That is unnecessary.” He said automatically. “We need to be ready to leave in one breem.”

Jazz crossed his arm over the sling, cocking his head to the side. “Well then you better sit your shiny ass down so we aren’t late.”

Bluestreak kept silent through sheer force of determination to not ruin this moment.

Prowl couldn’t move Jazz, and Jazz knew it.

He sat. Glowering.

“Thank you!” Jazz sang, warbling across the vowels. He tossed the tape to Bluestreak. “I’m pretty talented but handling sci-fi duct tape one handed isn’t for me.”

Bluestreak sputtered briefly, before going to work tearing off small strips.

“How. How? It took us VORNS to get Prowl to take care of himself even a little bit! And you pull it off in less than a cycle? I had to get blown up before he’d even step into a normal med bay AND Smokescreen had to basically drag him in! You could not BRIBE this mech into self care if you had all the shanix in the entire galaxy!”

Bluestreak talked and worked quickly, knowing he was on a time limit before Prowl would try and escape.

“Hah, I feel that. Whenever I go back to the {Shatterdome}, er, “base” they basically gotta corner me to do any kind of check up.” Then Jazz sounded almost nostalgic. “{Ratchet} had it down to a science before he left.”

As the small aches and pains began to dull, Prowl took lead of the conversation for some subtle information gathering.

“So Jazz, how many of your kind are there?”

Prowl ignored the hard flick Bluestreak gave him. However, Jazz seemed unfazed by his bluntness.

He leaned against the wall, looking up slightly in thought. “Uhhh let’s see. The base I’m from has five mecha. There’s me, my little brother {Ricochet}, {Hot Rod}, {Blurr} sort of, aaaand {Vortex}.”

He counted off on his fingers. Then made a so-so sign.

“Well, Vortex isn’t the uh, the person? The real Vortex died a long time ago. Now it’s just a uh.”

Jazz struggled to translate something, unaware of the Praxians steadily growing looks of confusion.

He snapped his fingers, “Dead-Not-Dead location stay? Some people think the Dead-Real-not-Real Vortex is still in there. I think it’s just a {Death trap.} Dangerous to be near positive-positive-positive.”

Jazz made a gesture above his head. “Vortex kills more quintessons than people though, so the high-important-leaders won’t get rid of the thing. They just,” he shrugged a little uselessly. “Keep feeding us to it.”

Is he… Is he describing what I think he is?

“You live with a Sparkeater?” Bluestreak broke the silence.

“Spark-eater?” Jazz sounded out the syllables. “That sounds like a good word for it, yeah.”

At least Prowl could finally confirm Jazz couldn’t detect EM fields. His and Bluestreaks horror saturated the room.

“…You guys okay?” Ah. Just dulled then.

“Yes.” Prowl reeled in his field and elbowed Blue to do the same. “Simply surprised.”

“And concerned.” Bluestreak chipped in. “Is your brother going to be okay? I mean, he’s alone with that thing! Are your leaders going to feed him to the vortex next? Is that what happens to mechs that don’t perform well enough?!”

Jazz startled upright, quickly shaking his head from side to side. “No no no! He’s fine! They won’t do that to Rico, he’s already proved himself plenty and it’s just new fighters they send to Vortex.”

“They don’t always die either, sometimes they just go crazy.” Jazz made a circling motion with his index finger next to his head, stopping awkwardly mid gesture.

“That.” He put his hand down. “Sounded better in my head.”

Bluestreak clasped his servos together behind his helm. Mouth pressed into a thin line.

Prowl twitched as he received a ping from their ship. “Our transport has arrived. We can discuss that later.”

Later.

Yes, let’s discuss the horrifying implications of your entire existence later. Perhaps over some lightly warmed energon?

Maybe he likes Flyts. Jazz can pet Green while they both have mental breakdowns.

With a consciously steady ex-vent, Prowl stood, dipping his doorwings in thanks to Bluestreak. “If you would follow us, I will see to it you are comfortable until we are able to..”

Prowl briefly struggled to find the right term. “Sort out. Your… management situation.”

Jazz nodded, “Right, right. You mentioned transport?”

Gratefully, Prowl gestured for Jazz to follow him towards the airlock.

Before the partial vacuum could cut off their voices once more, Prowl nodded to the narrow window facing the landing strip.

Curiosity pulled visored mech over and when Jazz reached the window, he gasped.

Prowl lifted his doorwings and held out one servo, presenting their ship.

“Welcome aboard the Lost Light.”

———————————————————————

Jazz pov: “Huh. Spark eater. I get it, cause it metaphorically snuffs out peoples spark of life. Cool analogy for a death trap.”

The Praxians pov: “whaT Do YoU mEaN THERE’S A VAMPIRE IN YOUR HOUSE?!”

Little be of extra short hand, these {} denote a word being spoken in English. So Prowl is hearing the sound of the word but doesn’t know its meaning.

Extra bit of world building, the Shatterdome Jazz is from was the one that originally housed all the Combaticons, which is why it has specifically five mecha cradles. It’s also the number one Research and Development Shatterdome which is why you’ve got stuff like Blurr’s turbo fast mecha housed there.

In addition, Ricochet is a fairly normal pilot, but he’s housed there specifically because of his relation to Jazz. You know those tests they run with twins where they’ll send one into space for a month and keep one on earth to compare the differences? Basically Rico is the control group and Jazz gets to try the crazy shit.

- SSTP

#writing #tf mecha universe #Edited for grammar

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vintagerpg · 2 months ago

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Over the course of 1989 and 1990, Columbia Games released what I can only call a seven-volume series of zines that expanded on the magic system first presented in the HarnMaster rules. This organized the use of magic into six elemental schools (air, fire, earth, water, metal and spirit) which correspond to a variety of metaphysically important essences — for example, Odivshe embodies water, but also slowness, darkness, cold and ice. These schools are arranged in a wheel, which symbolizes harmony and provides a framework for progression — the mage must attune to the other schools, a task that proves trickier as they progress further around the circle (I think there is a good chance this arrangement inspired the schools of magic in 2E D&D). Supplementing the specialized spells of each school are a set of neutral spells available to all casters. Further, especially learned mages can transcend the limitation of the circle, becoming Gray Mages, a rare and powerful occurrence.

HarnMaster: Magic (1997) collects all that earlier material into one set of loose leaf pages (heavy stock, full color, droooool) and makes everything delightfully modular. Even in the zine form, I liked the Harn magic system and found it surprisingly usable, but here even more so, thanks the inclusion of the humble check box. Basically, every mechanic is accompanied by one, and if the GM wants to use it, they check it off. Unchecked boxes are ignored and if whole pages are unchecked, they can simply be removed from the rules entirely. I haven’t given a close look to the binder version of HarnMaster 3E (1996), so I don’t know if this is a something the entire ruleset employs, but it strikes me as a very clever and usable way to present a system that can scale to the desired complexity of the players.

The downside of the magic system is that while the spells are novel, interesting and useful, they are all named using in-world logic. I think Dream of Galega (which evokes a powerful healing coma) is a more interesting and evocative name than “Heal,” but on a mechanical level I prefer the latter as I know what it does without having to memorize or refer to the text. Boring though that may be. But that kind of balance between the fiction and utility is a challenge something like Harn is always going to face.

Eric Hotz on the art throughout. I like the cover a lot. It’s very cheeky.

#rpg #dungeons & dragons #roleplaying game #tabletop rpg #d&d #ttrpg #Harn #Columbia Games #HarnMagic

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emmg · 1 month ago

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wip wednesday except it's saturday lol

I was tagged by lovely hunnybun @xxnashiraxx and someone else (I'm sooooory I don't remember!) I honestly don't have much cooking. This is just something from the creepy Emmlich x Rook fic I'm still fucking around with lol. It's not really edited or anything so eh

Tagging my usual boos but please do it and tag me in it if you're not mentioned (I forget people all the time.) I'm a hoe for wips.

@caffeinatedmunchkin @aldisobey @heylittleriotact @lavenderprose @thepalehorsevictoria @jainydoe

***

It does not hurt, as he promised, though her stomach turns as she watches his knife bite into her palm. He starts at the center, pressing just enough to break the surface, then drags upward toward the tip of her thumb. The sound is faint but sickening—a soft tearing, wet and fibrous. A line of tissue yawns open in its wake, pink and glistening, the raw fibers twitching faintly, helplessly. When the knife taps against her nail, he tilts it sideways, slipping it under the edge of her skin, working it loose.

There is no blood. It feels aberrant for there to be none, and she realizes she’s muttered something, perhaps a question, because he answers her without looking up. “A spell, darling. No mess.”

The ligament clings stubbornly to the joint, a sinewy, yellow strand refusing to tear. Emmrich tuts, presses the blade harder, and scrapes until it detaches in shredded, sticky ribbons.

"I was thinking of taking a nap in the Memorial Gardens before... this," she says.

Her mouth feels very dry. She will vomit her soul. She desperately needs some normalcy.

Emmrich hums absently, a soft tune threaded through his breath. "Oh, we still can go," he says, his voice unnervingly bright. "They’ve added new blooms, you know. Mintroot has begun curling around our lonely Vasanthum tree. A charming display, I imagine."

"I'm sure it is," she murmurs, barely audible.

"Quite," he replies, almost giddily. "Did I ever mention my talent for weaving? Braiding, too. I could make you a flower crown, darling. Something delicate, something becoming."

Her thumb begins to peel, a meticulous unveiling. The layer of skin and muscle separates with a moist crackle, exposing the stark white curve of bone. As the flesh sloughs free, the severed edges cling for a moment, stringy and reluctant, before giving way entirely.

“You are doing beautifully,” Emmrich murmurs.

She nods, though her throat is too tight to swallow.

His free hand dips into the molten metal in the bowl perched precariously on his lap. She cannot look away as his fingers vanish into the liquid iron, a viscous, glowing mass that shifts and ripples at his touch. In another life, his flesh would have blistered, bubbled, shed away in wet clumps. But in another life, he had flesh.

He stirs it with the casualness of a man testing the temperature of a bath, and she watches, horrified. The iron clings to his fingers like sap from a freshly cut tree, thick and heavy, glistening as it drizzles back into the bowl.

Without pause, he lowers those shiny fingers into the yawning wound on her hand. The molten iron hisses softly as it meets her exposed phalanges, a sound that seems alive, sentient, as it spreads itself across the bare bone. The metal clings tightly, flowing into every groove and hollow, encasing the fragile framework in layers of shimmering grey. It hardens as it moves, forming a lustrous shell that is as unnatural as it is permanent.

The smell is unbearable; sharp and acrid, laced with the faint sweetness of something organic cooking away

"I would like that," she says eventually, her voice flat and far away. She doesn’t lift her eyes from the bone, its pallor now overtaken by the dull sheen of grey, and tries, feebly and absurdly, to think of flowers.

"Wonderful." Emmrich’s smile stretches, slow and just a little too broad, as though it might spill from his face entirely. He tilts his head, considering. "Something sturdy, enduring, but not without charm," he muses, as if discussing an old trinket. “Wax flowers, I think. Subtle, fragrant, and remarkably long-lasting. They endure neglect with such poise, don’t you find? Even out of water, they hold their shape beautifully.”

As he shifts, the folds of his robes part, and the hollow in his chest gapes wide. Her eyes fix on his ribs, so very exposed, their delicate curves dipped in gold. They shine in the low light, grotesquely ornate, as if mocking the flesh they once protected. She knows there are other places like this on him—the soft, breakable parts made permanent, harder, resistant. Her gaze darts between the gleaming ribs, her thumb, and the bowl of molten iron in his lap, and something tight and monstrous begins to unfurl within her.

It starts with a shiver in her chest, a strange pressure that deepens into a sickening pull. Her lungs seem to cave inward. She can feel them shift, the slick, spongy mass grinding together, rolling and twisting into a single, suffocating ball. It churns inside her, alien and wrong.

When she exhales, it moves, dragging itself upward. She can taste it now, bitter and metallic, something slimy and pulsing that claws at her molars, trying to wrench them loose. It presses against her teeth, her tongue, desperate to escape, to spill out of her mouth in a choking flood. But it never does. It lodges there, a writhing, sweltering mass that stretches her throat and fills her mouth.

What escapes her is not a scream but a wail, ugly and pitiful. She shakes her head wildly, her voice cracking on each repetition. “No, no, no,” she says, first a whisper, then louder, the words piling up, tangled and frantic, until they bite at her lips. “I don’t want to be like you. Gods, I don’t want to be like you, Emmrich.” Her eyes feel swollen, burning, ready to rupture, to spill themselves down her cheeks, to run away from her face altogether. “I don’t want to die, but I don’t want to be like you—I don’t want to die in Nevarra—”

Her voice collapses into a torrent she cannot untangle, her breath heaving as she jerks her half-flayed hand, desperate to free it. The iron spills from the bowl in his lap, hissing as it splashes onto his knee and dribbles down.

“No, no,” Emmrich says softly, as though comforting a skittish animal. His hand remains steady even as hers thrashes. “Not like me, dear heart. Never like me.” Drip, drip, drip, the iron sings, pooling on the floor in slow, glowing puddles. “But I must finish or else it will keep breaking, again and again and again...” He pauses, his voice shifting, adopting a light, almost cheerful lilt, as though trying to smother her rising panic beneath a veneer of warmth. “Afterwards, we will go to the gardens, just as you wanted. Mintroot and Vasanthum, remember? And I shall weave you that flower crown I promised. Wouldn’t you like that?"

#im always late with the tag games lol #i get so excited to see that im tagged and im like yesss gotta get on it #except i usually see them when im like riding the bus lmfao #and then i forget #anyyyyyyway #my wips #wip game #lichdom is still a big no no #we don't condone the bad choices of bad skeletons in this house #emmlich #emmrich volkarin #emmrich x rook #emmrook #dragon age the veilguard

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mindblowingscience · 1 year ago

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Plastic waste breaks down over time into nanoplastics (<0.1 μm). Microplastics smaller than 20 μm cannot be removed in currently operating water treatment plants and must be agglomerated to a larger size and then removed. Iron (Fe) or aluminum (Al) based flocculants are used for this purpose, but they are not the ultimate solution as they remain in the water and cause severe toxicity to humans, requiring a separate treatment process. Dr. Jae-Woo Choi of the Center for Water Cycle Research at the Korea Institute of Science and Technology (KIST) has developed an eco-friendly metal-organic skeleton-based solid flocculant that can effectively aggregate nanoplastics under visible light irradiation. The research was published in Water Research. Prussian blue, a metal-organic frameworks-based substance made by adding iron (III) chloride to a potassium ferrocyanide solution, is the first synthetic pigment used to dye jeans a deep blue color and has recently been used to adsorb cesium, a radioactive element, from Japanese nuclear plant wastewater.

#Science #Chemistry #Prussian Blue #plastic pollution #inorganic chemistry #stem

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sukimas · 1 year ago

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well, [REDACTED TO PREVENT USER IDENTIFICATION]

computergirls are heat resistant

Yes. They'd be more heat-resistant if we didn't have to use liquid batteries for them, though...

#but mostly you can use things that are already conductive in solid form yet don't redox fast like metal-organic frameworks or polymers #they can pass ions and charge around. basically.#there's also other mysterious molecules and salts but i'll say no more

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pixies-and-poets · 1 year ago

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Smithy Gang Headcanons

Hi, friends! I'm extremely grateful for the positive feedback on The Forging, and definitely want to write more SMRPG stuff; I've just been working on other priorities lately. However, my brain has been busy churning stuff over, even if I haven't had the time to sit down and write a story yet.

So I wanted to jot down some of my headcanons for the Smithy gang, specifically the forging order of the main members. I thought of a sequence where Smithy created each as a response to shortcomings he saw in their predecessors. This timeline will serve as a framework from which I can write future stories.

I don't think there's anything here that goes directly against canon, but I'm not as much of an SMRPG expert as I am with some other games lol, so feel free to tell me if there's some kind of Japanese-only line that contradicts me. Also let me know your own ideas if you want!! I am new to being a proper fan in this fandom :P

First, some general notes: I don't really have a good definition for who Smithy himself is, where he came from, or what his world is like, and I don't know if I ever will, since I find some degree of ominous mystery to be more interesting. Also - while I've seen the Gang described as "robots", while that may be true in a sense, I think of them more as "constructs" - I don't think they're powered by wires or circuitry or anything like that, but rather arcane magic. They are not powered by AI, even in the sense that a more nuanced and self-aware robo-sentience might be (see examples in the Marioverse: TEC, Beep-0, JEANIE), but a more traditional type of consciousness/soul that Smithy has learned to work with, as if it were yet another material. (This isn't abnormal for the Mario world, where we already have living bullets and bombs and the like- and in an ironic twist, also makes them somewhat similar to Geno, who is a consciousness inhabiting a form that would not produce sentience or mobility on its own.)

This isn't really a fic, although it's long enough to be one, lol. I hope you enjoy!

First there was Exor; but Smithy did not create him. In fact, Exor was Smithy's beloved blade, the reason for his obsession with living weapons in the first place. But Exor is a being even more ancient than Smithy, who just happened to bond with him in his lifetime. The sword can grow to a massive size, and is never truly destroyed, but will reappear and reforge itself throughout history. The otherworldly creature that attached itself to Exor and brought it to life has been known to some as the Neosquid.

Now Smithy, in a sense, was his own first experiment - gradually replacing his organic parts with malleable metal, not only to extend his own life, but to make himself more suited for a variety of purposes. This was a process that never really had an end, as he was always experimenting, creating new heads for himself. But when he was satisfied enough with his initial efforts, Smithy sought to create life in his own image, and in the image of his beloved Exor. Among other adventures, he spent time in Subcon, the Land of Dreams, studying the enigmatic nature of consciousness - at least enough so that he could harness some of its unfathomable magic for his own ends.

Boomer was the first of Smithy's prized creations (yes, because I like the idea of the one called "Boomer" being the oldest). Originally created to provide a sort of companionship to Smithy in the form of strategic advisory and being a bodyguard- and also to provide friendship, although Smithy would never admit it. Over time, Smithy became distracted with his newer and flashier works, and grew tired of Boomer's overly serious and staid nature. Though their relationship has grown distant, Boomer's fondness, gratitude and loyalty for his creator has never faltered, and he will defend Smithy to the very last of his existence. In turn, Smithy has never put forth plans for machine-made Boomers- the younger creations speculate it's because he's too outdated a model for this to be worth it, but perhaps it's because even now, Smithy considers him irreplaceable.

Bowyer was the next-forged. Smithy sought to make a commander who represented a long-range weapon, to contrast with Boomer's katana; and also a more creative and inventive personality to offset Boomer's traditionalist and unadventurous nature. When Bowyer was born, Smithy found that he had accidentally gone way too far (in his opinion) in this new direction, leading to a creation that was so erratic he refused to even speak like those around him. Smithy found Bowyer a hard-to-control troublemaker who would rarely listen to him (or Boomer) and seemed unhappy most of the time, not fitting in with the world he had been forged into. Bowyer would also leave arrows all over the place, sticking out of random things in the weapon world - this is when Smithy had the bright idea to create arrows with consciousness, so they could return to their leader on their own. To Smithy and Boomer's surprise, Bowyer became a lot more joyful and content when he met his little Aeros, and they all became an inseparable entourage.

Smithy became creatively blocked while trying to think of his next big project, largely due to the stress of Bowyer's early behavior. Instead, he came up with a number of smaller-time minions, some of which were the Shymores, based on the Shy Guys he had observed during the time he had spent in Subcon. The Shymores were a playfully destructive group, and after seeing Bowyer's happiness with the Aeros, Smithy decided to forge a creation who was destined to be a leader from the outset; and also one with a mischievous streak, yet toned down from Bowyer. And so he made Claymorton, who later called himself Mack. He was a beloved leader to his rowdy group, but perhaps too social- he ended up neglecting his own training, preferring to play and mess around with his friends, and thus never became very strong on his own.

By now, Smithy was growing frustrated by the failures and flaws that he saw in the personalities of his creations. He decided to think extra hard about the character of his next project: this would be someone who could work completely independently - brilliant, shrewd, capable of powerful magic spells and illusions. Yet Smithy made sure to write in an unflinching loyalty to himself into the new creation's code, so to speak. And lo: at first Speardovich seemed everything Smithy could have ever wanted. Proud, powerful, but knowing his place. He needed no minions, and thus was never distracted, as he could split his own form and consciousness so that one being could do the work of many. He might appear to be older than Bowyer and Claymorton, but in fact he is technically not; he was just created from the outset to be more mature, with the moustache to prove it. And yet, over time, the cracks in this personality began to show. Speary was pompous and did not get along with the other creations when necessity called them to work together. And his respect for Smithy manifested as simpering; a begging for praise and attention which the smith found increasingly unbearable. He was always coming up with unasked-for ideas and input, such as: perhaps all the machine-made units could take the name of a spear in a different language, and "speardovich" could be their overall model name, and that he quite liked Yaridovich for himself personally, and perhaps it would be alright if- but no, Smithy would have none of it. While at first he had beamed with joy at this newest creation, he soon enough kept him at arm's length (or spear's length?) as well.

Finally, Smithy hit upon a brilliant idea - his next creation would be a group of (mostly) equals who could depend on each other without a major power imbalance, keep each other entertained, and stay out of his hair. The Axem Rangers were born, all bearing an energetic and youthful personality which they are still yet to grow out of. They were given control of the Blade, and sent to scout various worlds. They often picked up slang and brought home entertainment from the places they visited, and developed a countless number of inside jokes. The other commanders, and especially Smithy himself and Boomer, found it hard to keep up with them. However, Smithy considered their existence a big success, and remained very proud of them- although this might be due to the fact that he ended up not having to interact with them that much.

...So, that's what I have for now! I'm not sure where all of the Factory enemies fit into this; based on their descriptions, I think Clerk/Manager/Director aren't creations of Smithy, but are the same species as him and recruited from his homeworld. Same with the Chief, aside from possibly not being the same species. Smaller minions like jabits and the hammers would be produced at various points that aren't super relevant to this larger narrative. Count Down was probably made as a fun side-project when Smithy wanted to take a break from weapons per se, and see what he could do with an object like a clock. Gunyolk was confirmed to be created by the Chief. And Cloaker and Domino are weird outliers; I want to say they would be among some of the first things Smithy made, or the latest, in some kind of more abstract and experimental period.

Again - let me know your thoughts and ideas!

#super mario rpg #smrpg #fan analysis #fan theory #smithy gang

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materialsscienceandengineering · 4 months ago

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Novel flame aerosol system excels at creating nanoparticles

Since prehistoric times, humans have used fire to transform raw materials into valuable goods. Examples include using flames to turn clay into pottery, and silica into glass. The practice continues today with industry employing a highly sophisticated version of the technique—flame aerosol synthesis—to create nanoparticles that serve as key ingredients in everything from inks to air filters. While effective, flame aerosol synthesis is not without limitations, including challenges with manipulating the flame, achieving precise control over the size and distribution of nanoparticles, and cost. Two new research studies co-led by University at Buffalo engineers address these shortcomings. The studies center on a unique flame aerosol system that the engineers created which, they say, is versatile, easy-to-use and cost effective.

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alt-wannabe · 2 months ago

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what’s ur favorite element/favorite chemical reaction if any,,,,? sorry super random ask it’s 1 am and I saw chemistry major in your profile and got inexplicably excited

NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR LEAVING ME AN ASK ESPECIALLY IF ITS ABOUT CHEMISTRY!!!!

oh god i’m such a nerd where do i start

my favorite element changes frequently but at the moment it’s probably chromium. generally i’m a transition metals girl over anything else (i primarily work in inorganic, that’s what im trying to get a phd in) so any metal i’m a pretty big fan of. chromium is just the primary one i’m working with in my lab right now. i’m using inductive heating to make chromium metal organic frameworks and it’s very very cool because i am very very lame. the chromium compound i work with (chromium nitrate nonahydrate) is also really pretty so (shown below). i also just really really miss working in lab. ive been just so ungodly busy with grad school applications and finals and family holiday and band needed me to do a bunch of stuff even on break so i haven’t had much time to do chem outside of classes which makes me a little sad

for reactions i think grignard reactions are really really cool. for one grignard reagents will blow the hell up if they touch water, some even being set off by moisture in the air so that’s just very fun! and even though it’s an organic reaction it still involves more than the basic oxygen carbon nitrogen bitches cause it needs a magnesium to work! and magnesium is dope!! also like chemically it’s a super important mechanism since it forms a new carbon carbon bond. i also obviously like any inorganic reaction bc duh that’s my field but in general inorganic reactions are far more likely than organic to have interesting color changes! i remember in like honors chem sophomore year of highschool we did an experiment where we soaked wood in metal complex solutions and the pieces all burned different colors, and that’s just fuckin cool.

now that i seen ive written a goddamn essay i’m gonna cut it there because i could legit go on for hours 😭 thank you for letting me chemical yap its one of my favorite things to do

#still waiting on grad school decisions everyone cross your fingers for me pls #i love chemistry so much it’s not even funny #alt yaps #ask box

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whats-in-a-sentence · 1 year ago

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Among several candidate groups of materials for gas storage and separation, highly porous three-dimensional solids known as metal-organic frameworks (MOFs, which are also known as porous coordination polymers, figure 6.8) show exceptional promise.

"Chemistry" 2e - Blackman, A., Bottle, S., Schmid, S., Mocerino, M., Wille, U.

#book quotes #chemistry #nonfiction #textbook #gas #storage #separation #mof #metal organic frameworks #porous coordination polymers #carbon dioxide

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books-and-strawberry-tea · 2 months ago

Text

New Words this Year(ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

Thanks to my kindle, its easy for me to keep track of new words I come across while reading. I look at the definitions and keep the word highlighted for later. So here are some of the words I came across this year that I either have heard but dont know what they mean, or new words entirely.

Tumblr seriously hated me while I was making this post. Nothing but problems. Wouldn’t let me post it. Undoing all my formatting multiple times. So if you see any mistakes please let me know 🥹 (ugh it’s gotten rid of my numbered dot points too. I’m so sorry this post is a nightmare)

The Scarlet Veil ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

Egad

Expressing surprise, anger, or affirmation. First recorded in 1665–75; euphemistic alteration of oh God!

Herculean

Requiring great strength or effort. 1590–1600; < Latin Hercule ( us ) of, belonging to Hercules + -an. Digging the tunnel was a herculean task.

A Court of Thorns and Roses ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

Conflagration

an extensive fire which destroys a great deal of land or property. A destructive fire, usually an extensive one.

First recorded in 1545–55; from Latin conflagrātiōn- (stem of conflagrātiō ), equivalent to conflagrāt(us), past participle of conflagrāre “to burn up”; con- ( def ), -ate 1( def ), -ion ( def ). Latin flagr- of conflagrāre is akin to fulgur “lightning,” flamma ( flame ), Greek phlóx ( phlox )

A Court of Mist and Fury ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

Odious

Extremely unpleasant; repulsive. Deserving or causing hatred; hateful; detestable. Highly offensive; repugnant; disgusting.

1350–1400; Middle English from Latin odiōsus, equivalent to od(ium) “hatred,” odium + -ōsus -ous

House of Roots and Ruin ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

curlicues

A decorative curl or twist in calligraphy or in the design of an object. An ornamental, fancy curl or twist, as in a signature.

trellises

A framework of light wooden or metal bars, chiefly used as a support for fruit trees or climbing plants. late Middle English word dating back to 1425–75; trellis, -ed

Charm ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

compunction

A feeling of guilt or moral scruple that prevents or follows the doing of something bad. A feeling of uneasiness or anxiety of the conscience caused by regret for doing wrong or causing pain; contrition; remorse. Any uneasiness or hesitation about the rightness of an action.

An Education in Malice ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

proffered (Proffer)

Hold out or put forward (something) to someone for acceptance. Put before someone for acceptance; offered: Thanks for all the proffered advice. He concluded that something was better than nothing, and agreed to the proffered terms. Proffer = to put before a person for acceptance; offer.

milieu

A person's social environment. Surroundings, especially of a social or cultural nature: a snobbish milieu. Synonyms: setting, sphere, background

dour

sullen; gloomy:The captain's dour look depressed us all. Synonyms: moody, sour, morose

severe; stern:His dour criticism made us regret having undertaken the job.

Scot. (of land) barren; rocky, infertile, or otherwise difficult or impossible to cultivate.

bacchantes

A female bacchant. Bacchant -

a priest, priestess, or votary of Bacchus; bacchanal.

a drunken reveler.

First recorded in 1690–1700, bacchant is from the Latin word bacchant- (stem of bacchāns, present participle of bacchārī to revel). See Bacchus, -ant

matriculate

to enroll in a college or university as a candidate for a degree.

to register (a coat of arms), used especially in Scottish heraldry. 1480–90 for earlier sense; < Medieval Latin mātrīculātus (person) listed (for some specific duty), equivalent to mātrīcul ( a ) list ( matriculant ) + -ātus -ate

peaty

Of, pertaining to, resembling, or containing the substance peat.

Peat -

a highly organic material found in marshy or damp regions, composed of partially decayed vegetable matter: it is cut and dried for use as fuel.

such vegetable matter used as fertilizer or fuel.

equivocation

the use of equivocal or ambiguous expressions, especially in order to mislead or hedge; prevarication.

an equivocal, ambiguous expression; equivoque: The speech was marked by elaborate equivocations.

Logic. a fallacy caused by the double meaning of a word.

Mephistopheles

Medieval Demonology. one of the seven chief devils and the tempter of Faust.

succinctly

In a concise or verbally brief manner: Students must demonstrate the ability to correctly and succinctly communicate research findings.

pedagogy

the function or work of a teacher; teaching.

the art or science of teaching; education; instructional methods.

tempestuous

characterized by or subject to tempests:the tempestuous ocean.

of the nature of or resembling a tempest:a tempestuous wind. Synonyms: stormy, violent

tumultuous; turbulent:a tempestuous period in history.

Temptest -

a violent windstorm, especially one with rain, hail, or snow.

a violent commotion, disturbance, or tumult.

subjugated

Subjugate -

to bring under complete control or subjection; conquer; master. Synonyms: overpower, reduce, vanquish, overcome

to make submissive or subservient; enslave. Synonyms: overpower, reduce, vanquish, overcome

magnanimous

generous in forgiving an insult or injury; free from petty resentfulness or vindictiveness:to be magnanimous toward one's enemies. Synonyms: kindly, charitable, big

high-minded; noble:a just and magnanimous ruler.

proceeding from or revealing generosity or nobility of mind, character, etc.:a magnanimous gesture of forgiveness.

wizened

withered; shriveled:

a wizened old man; wizened features.

impervious

not permitting penetration or passage; impenetrable:The coat is impervious to rain.

incapable of being injured or impaired:impervious to wear and tear.

incapable of being influenced, persuaded, or affected:impervious to reason; impervious to another's suffering. Synonyms: closed, invulnerable

Belladonna ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

mirth

gaiety or jollity, especially when accompanied by laughter:the excitement and mirth of the holiday season.Antonyms: gloom

amusement or laughter: He was unable to conceal his mirth.

First recorded before 900; Middle English mirthe, Old English myrgth. See merry, -th

Leather & Lark ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

pyroclastic

Geology.

composed chiefly of fragments of volcanic origin, as agglomerate, tuff, and certain other rocks; volcaniclastic.

First recorded in 1885–90; pyro- + clastic

Multifaceted

having many facets, as a gem.

having many aspects or phases:a multifaceted problem.

saccharine

of the nature of or resembling that of sugar:a powdery substance with a saccharine taste.

containing or yielding sugar.

very sweet to the taste; sugary:a saccharine dessert.

cloyingly agreeable or ingratiating:a saccharine personality.

exaggeratedly sweet or sentimental:a saccharine smile; a saccharine song of undying love.

nonplussed

completely puzzled or perplexed by something unexpected:She blows a hole in the wall and escapes, and the nonplussed aliens are left wondering what happened.

not dismayed; indifferent or unexcited; calm:I hadn’t yet told my girlfriend I was leaving—I didn't want to risk being crushed by a nonplussed response to the news.

First recorded in 1600–10; nonplus ( def ) + -ed 2( def )

flummoxed

Informal. utterly bewildered, confused, or puzzled:

When I walk into a store to buy video equipment and see the multitude of options, I’m befuddled and flummoxed.

The Thirteenth Child ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

wedgelette

I...I have no idea what this means and when I google it only the book comes up XD

perdition

a state of final spiritual ruin; loss of the soul; damnation.

the future state of the wicked.

hell ( def 1 ).

utter destruction or ruin.

Obsolete. loss.

The Pale Dreamer ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

mercurial

changeable; volatile; fickle; flighty; erratic:a mercurial nature.Synonyms: indecisive, inconstantAntonyms: steady, constant

animated; lively; sprightly; quick-witted.Synonyms: spiritedAntonyms: phlegmatic

pertaining to, containing, or caused by the metal mercury.

(initial capital letter) of or relating to the god Mercury.

(initial capital letter) of or relating to the planet Mercury.

milliner(s)

a person who designs, makes, or sells hats for women.

First recorded in 1520–30; variant of obsolete Milaner “native of Milan, dealer in goods from Milan” ( Milan was formerly accented on the first syllable); -er 1

haberdasher(s)

a retail dealer in men's furnishings, as shirts, ties, gloves, socks, and hats.

Chiefly British. a dealer in small wares and notions.

1275–1325; Middle English haberdasshere, of obscure origin; compare Anglo-French habredache haberdashery, hapertas perhaps a kind of cloth

trepidation

tremulous fear, alarm, or agitation; perturbation. Synonyms: disquiet, apprehension, panic, alarm, fright, fear, dread, anxiety

Archaic. trembling or quivering movement; tremor.

craven

cowardly; contemptibly timid; pusillanimous.

Synonyms: timorous, fearful, dastardly

assent

to agree or concur; subscribe to (often followed by to ):to assent to a statement. Synonyms: acquiesce

to give in; yield; concede:Assenting to his demands, I did as I was told. Synonyms: acquiesce

perfunctory

performed merely as a routine duty; hasty and superficial:perfunctory courtesy. Synonyms: uninterested, thoughtless, heedless, negligent Antonyms: diligent, careful

lacking interest, care, or enthusiasm; indifferent or apathetic:In his lectures he reveals himself to be merely a perfunctory speaker. Synonyms: uninterested, thoughtless, heedless, negligent Antonyms: diligent, careful

Spark of the Everflame ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

raucously (raucous)

harsh; strident; grating:raucous voices; raucous laughter. Synonyms: raspy, rough Antonyms: dulcet, mellow, soft

rowdy; disorderly:a raucous party.

Glow of the Everflame ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

reticence

the state of being reticent, or reserved, especially with regard to speaking freely; restraint:

His natural reticence seemed to disappear under the influence of alcohol.

apoplectic

of or relating to apoplexy or stroke.

having or inclined to apoplexy.

intense enough to threaten or cause apoplexy:an apoplectic rage.

extremely angry; furious:He became apoplectic at the mere mention of the subject.

Hopefully you learnt some new words! I definitely have!

(These words have been collected since May 2024 when I got my kindle and are whats listed in my kindle as of posting on the 29th Dec 2024.)

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