#Wire & Cable Management Systems | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

elconseo · 5 months

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Exploring the Three Main Varieties of Cable Trays

A. What are cable trays, and why are they important in electrical installations?

A cable tray is a crucial element that is employed to hold the insulated electric cables used for power supply and communication purposes. These trays are vital in organising and protecting the cables, allowing for effective cable management and avoiding possible dangers.

B. Cable Tray Basics

1. Why do we need cable trays in our electrical systems?

Cable tray systems facilitate proper cable organisation and efficient routing within a framework. This system makes it possible to identify, locate and maintain the cables without interfering with the operation of the systems.

2. What role do cable trays play in the protection of cables?

Cable trays work as a protective blanket for cables, protecting them from being damaged by physical elements and unwanted interference. They provide cross-flow ventilation, which reduces the possibility of overheating, hence lengthening the lifespan of the cables.

C. Exploring the Three Primary Types of Cable Trays

There are three types of cable trays that cater to different needs and applications:

1. Ladder Cable Tray:

Ladder cable trays are a preferred type of cable trays, especially when promoting airflow is a priority to reduce overheating risks. They can sustain heavy cable bundles and can be supplemented with protective covers for added security.

2. Wire Mesh Cable Tray:

Another popular type of cable trays is the wire mesh cable tray system. Known for its versatility, it facilitates quick installations on both ceilings and walls, making it suitable for various environments, from office interiors to demanding offshore drilling platforms.

3. Perforated Cable Tray:

Lastly, the perforated cable trays , yet another essential type of cable trays, are crafted with a focus on safety and durability. They are resilient against varying weather conditions and are adept at supporting significant cable weights, ensuring efficient cable management across diverse installations.

D. Cable Tray Selection and Installation

1. How should one determine the appropriate cable tray type for a project?

The choice of cable tray varieties depends largely on the kind of cables being used, the weight they carry, and the specific environment where they are installed.

2. What factors influence the choice of cable tray?

The selection process is determined by various factors. Environmental conditions, such as humidity and temperature, are considered, as do the types of cables being used. The physical environment, like indoor or outdoor setups, can also influence the choice.

3. What are the key steps in installing cable trays correctly and safely?

When it comes to cable tray installation methods, ensuring a proper fit is essential. This involves accurate measurements, ensuring proper grounding, and following safety regulations. Additionally, regular maintenance checks are crucial for long-lasting, trouble-free installations.

Opting for the right cable tray isn't just about the present; it's an investment in the future. Remember that the efficiency of a cable tray in electrical installations isn't solely based on its type but also on its maintenance.

Discover the three primary types of cable trays with Elcon Global, the leading Cable Tray Manufacturer in India . Whether you're looking for ladder trays, perforated trays, or wire mesh trays, we've got you covered. Explore our high-quality cable tray solutions to meet your wiring and cable management needs today! Contact us now.

#Cable tray systems #Cable management solutions #Wire tray types #Metal cable trays #Perforated cable trays #Cable tray installation

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phayz · 1 year

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[robot with the biggest eyebags ever] ill be fine as soon as i organize my wires nothing a bit of cable management camt fix. yeah hold on i just gotta allocate more ram and reset my internal clock and plug this usb stick in. ya im fine i just need to recharge and turn this dial and do a quick system reset. the diagnostics of that script i ran are a lie btw im fine. do you have any cigarettes

#00

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electronalytics · 1 year

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Instrumentation Cables Market Analysis Growth Factors and Competitive Strategies by Forecast 2032

Instrumentation Cables Market Overview:

The instrumentation cables market involves the production and distribution of cables specifically designed for transmitting signals in various industries. These cables are used for connecting instruments, sensors, and control devices to ensure reliable and accurate data transmission in industrial processes, automation systems, and control networks.

Key Points:

Types of Instrumentation Cables: The instrumentation cables market offers various types of cables, including twisted pair cables, coaxial cables, multi-core cables, and shielded cables. Each type serves different purposes and is designed to meet specific industry requirements.

Industrial Applications: Instrumentation cables find extensive use in industries such as oil and gas, petrochemicals, power generation, chemical processing, manufacturing, and pharmaceuticals. They are used for connecting instruments and control devices to measure and monitor temperature, pressure, flow, and other process parameters.

Signal Transmission: Instrumentation cables are designed to transmit low-voltage signals accurately and reliably over long distances. They provide protection against electromagnetic interference (EMI), noise, and signal loss, ensuring the integrity of the transmitted data.

Demand and Opportunity: The instrumentation cables market experiences significant demand and offers several opportunities:

Industrial Growth: The growth of industries such as oil and gas, power generation, and manufacturing drives the demand for instrumentation cables. As these industries expand and modernize, there is a need for reliable and efficient data transmission in various automation and control systems.

Infrastructure Development: The development of infrastructure, including smart cities, transportation systems, and industrial automation, creates opportunities for the instrumentation cables market. These projects require robust and advanced cables to ensure accurate and real-time data transmission.

Increasing Automation: The trend towards automation in industries, driven by the need for efficiency and productivity, boosts the demand for instrumentation cables. These cables play a critical role in connecting sensors, instruments, and control devices in automated systems.

Future Forecast: The future of the instrumentation cables market looks promising with the following trends:

Technological Advancements: Advancements in cable technologies, such as improved insulation materials, enhanced shielding, and higher data transmission rates, will drive market growth. These advancements will enable better performance and reliability in data transmission.

Industrial Internet of Things (IIoT): The adoption of IIoT technologies in industries will create opportunities for instrumentation cables. IIoT relies on seamless and reliable data transmission, making high-quality cables crucial for connecting sensors and devices.

Focus on Safety and Efficiency: The demand for instrumentation cables that meet stringent safety standards and offer high efficiency will increase. Cables with features like fire resistance, low smoke and halogen-free properties, and high data transmission rates will be in demand.

In summary, the instrumentation cables market is expected to witness significant growth due to industrial expansion, infrastructure development, and the increasing demand for automation and reliable data transmission. Technological advancements and the adoption of digitalization will shape the future of the market, presenting opportunities for manufacturers and suppliers to cater to the evolving industry requirements.

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Global Instrumentation Cables Market: By Company • Belden • General Cable • Nexans • Prysmian Group • ALLIED WIRE & CABLE • KEI Industries • Olympic Wire & Cable • RPG CABLES • RS Components • Southwire Company • TE Connectivity • TELDOR Cables & Systems Global Instrumentation Cables Market: By Type • Unarmored Cable • Armored Cable Global Instrumentation Cables Market: By Application • Utilities • Oil & Gas • Aerospace • Others Global Instrumentation Cables Market: Regional Analysis The regional analysis of the global Instrumentation Cables market provides insights into the market's performance across different regions of the world. The analysis is based on recent and future trends and includes market forecast for the prediction period. The countries covered in the regional analysis of the Instrumentation Cables market report are as follows: North America: The North America region includes the U.S., Canada, and Mexico. The U.S. is the largest market for Instrumentation Cables in this region, followed by Canada and Mexico. The market growth in this region is primarily driven by the presence of key market players and the increasing demand for the product. Europe: The Europe region includes Germany, France, U.K., Russia, Italy, Spain, Turkey, Netherlands, Switzerland, Belgium, and Rest of Europe. Germany is the largest market for Instrumentation Cables in this region, followed by the U.K. and France. The market growth in this region is driven by the increasing demand for the product in the automotive and aerospace sectors. Asia-Pacific: The Asia-Pacific region includes Singapore, Malaysia, Australia, Thailand, Indonesia, Philippines, China, Japan, India, South Korea, and Rest of Asia-Pacific. China is the largest market for Instrumentation Cables in this region, followed by Japan and India. The market growth in this region is driven by the increasing adoption of the product in various end-use industries, such as automotive, aerospace, and construction. Middle East and Africa: The Middle East and Africa region includes Saudi Arabia, U.A.E, South Africa, Egypt, Israel, and Rest of Middle East and Africa. The market growth in this region is driven by the increasing demand for the product in the aerospace and defense sectors. South America: The South America region includes Argentina, Brazil, and Rest of South America. Brazil is the largest market for Instrumentation Cables in this region, followed by Argentina. The market growth in this region is primarily driven by the increasing demand for the product in the automotive sector.

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yaespook · 11 months

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Run 4 - In Progress.

✧ Room Content: Dom! GN! Reader x Yan! Sub! Android! Wanderer, no gendered terms used for reader, no actual penetration, unhealthy obsessive and possessive relationship from Wanderer, memory manipulation. Leave a note if anything was missed out. ✧ Retrieved Notes: If possible, use the InteractiveFics extension to change the phrase “My name” (without the quotation marks) to the name given to your Wanderer.

There’s an unfamiliar android sitting atop your worktable.

You must have picked him up two or three weeks ago, when he was still worse for wear. In your memory, he was in pretty bad shape when the two of you first met, his main panel wrenched open leaving his circuitry a mess and rough scrapes all over his superficial layer.

Now, with your constant repairs, he’s been more lively, tailing you around the house as you go about your day. While fussing about, dusting off a muzzle laying on a fur pelt, you sense a presence lingering outside your room.

"You know, I don't recall androids being quite so clingy." In return, you get a light huff from behind the door frame.

"And you’ve come across other androids? I didn’t know you run a junkyard here,” the eye roll in his tone is audible.

His feet pad into the room and his gaze hones in on the clerical collar placed on a nearby shelf, glaring at it. Clicking his tongue, he crosses his hands on his chest.

“Whatever, what you do is mostly up to you anyway. Do you think you’re almost done cleaning? I think there’s an internal problem again, I’ll wait for you at the worktable,” the android saunters off nonchalantly, throwing you a light wave over his shoulder.

Sighing, you quickly finish up your task at hand before complying to his request, briskly making your way over to the worktable where he's already perched smugly on, his gaze expectant.

You easily go through the rehearsed motions of plugging him up to your computer, your muscle memory kicking in as you boot up the required softwares before gingerly prying the main panel located on the front of his torso to gain access to his internal workings. Over time, you've gradually figured out the parts that make up the android sitting before you, growing used to the sight of the lengths of wiring and cables running throughout his body, the faint low mechanical whirring of motors and cooling systems.

Most importantly, you now understand how sensitive his central core is. Nestled securely in a latched transparent casing, his core is what powers and sustains him. It emits a constant turquoise light and is also reflected in the glowing markings that lay beneath his synthetic skin that occasionally activate. (Although, you haven't quite gotten an answer for what makes them light up yet.)

“So what's your problem today?” You ask, tearing your eyes away from him as you go over to your computer to check if any bugs have been identified.

“I think that cable all the way at the back came undone and got tangled with the rest.”

You shoot him a pointed look, “Again? Didn’t we just fix that same cable last week?” Shifting your chair so you’re seated before him, poised to conduct your repairs, you make a passing remark, “Maybe taking you to another mechanic might be the better choice, get everything checked out, you know?”

How long have you kept at your task of finally fixing him up to tiptop condition? It’s almost daily when he reports back to you with a new disconnected wire or another loose joint somewhere on him. Diligently, you’ve been trying to repair him but the android is like a never-ending to-do list. And it’s only natural to be concerned if the constant damage stems from a more serious underlying issue that you haven’t managed to discover. The only next logical step would be to get another pair of eyes to help discern the root cause in case anything takes a turn for the worse.

But the reaction you get from him is one unexpected. His head snaps to face you, a scowl evident on his face.

“So you’re handing me off like an unfinished project to someone else now?”

You know how snippy he can get however, this is on a different level from his previous behaviour. Maybe something left over from the days before you found him. It’ll be a good idea to look into his past logs to diagnose any present problems, you make a mental note of it.

“I’m just worried for you, that’s all. What if there’s an urgent issue I can’t fix alone? And we both know I can’t leave you as is.”

His expression mellows to an annoyed pout, looking away as his core glows faintly along with the patterns under his skin, he mumbles, “I’ll be fine.” (“I just need you.”) (“I'm the only one for you.”) (“No one else deserves you.”)

He allows you to work without another complaint, silently watching as your hands venture into his chest, a focused air to you while you look for the problematic cable. He senses your touch when you make contact with it, sucking in a sharp breath as you grip it between your fingers, twisting it around to free it from the surrounding wires before you finally connect and plug it into its rightful place.

“That’s it for your cable issue. Anything else?” He quickly shakes his head.

Giving it a few light cursory pulls to make sure it’s finally secured, (if you weren’t mistaken, his core brightened in time with your tugs), you spare the rest of his parts one last look over. Then, shutting the panel, you unplug him from the computer.

Immediately, he scampers off the worktable with a clipped “thank you” and runs into his room. You hear the door to his room close before its lock clicks.

The next few days prove to be better, the repair requests for any troubles that seem to have cropped up overnight growing more and more infrequent. Perhaps, bit by bit, the end of the repairs start to come into sight.

Although, you have noted that his internal temperatures have been hiking recently whenever you have his chest panel open to patch him up.

This time, you have him lying on the worktable on his back to access the further areas in him. He’s positioned facing upwards but his eyes are darting everywhere, unable to meet your gaze. Once again, the programme open on your computer screen shows how his temperatures are quickly rising even though there are no obvious reasons for such a sudden change. It records the recurrence into its troubleshooting log like before, more times than you can remember.

He’s panting lightly, the android’s chest moving up and down as your ears pick up the sound of his inner fans whir louder, his pre-programmed functions activating to try to cool him down. With no clue as to what could cause this issue, you reach in to look for a fault. Yet, the more you poke and prod around, the higher the warmth within him rises.

Left with more questions than answers, you turn to his core for a closer look. When your fingers brush against the transparent casing, a moan slips out from him, and instantly his head whips to look at you dumbfounded.

An artificial blush takes over his face, a low pink glow blooming from beneath the synthetic layer. A beat passes before he cracks his lips apart, voicebox working as he pleads.

“...Again.”

Gently, you let your fingertips dance over the clasp hinging the casing shut and his response is instant. A shudder rolls through him, as real as it can be, and a shaky exhale leaves him. The android’s back arches up slightly, hastily chasing after your touch when you remove your hand.

Your caress returns when your hand dips deeper into his circuitry, where you hook two fingers underneath his thicker cables, attentively stroking them between your thumb and fingers, before tugging on them forcefully enough to elicit a reaction from him.

His eyes fly open at your ministrations, a greed for more overtaking his processors. You’ve always been so gentle with him when he’s opened up for you, when you have access to the deepest parts of him, when he’s at his most vulnerable. So, to have you toy around with him, show him the indulgence of human flesh, can you really fault him for falling for you?

The tips of your fingers ghost along the length of his metal spine, and the android keens from under you.

“Please, more, I can take it!”

Taking his cue, your hand encircles his spine, grinding the heel of your palm against the ridges of the sensitive metal elements as you pump up and down.

“Sss- so good! Hah…!” He can’t control how he behaves when you treat him so well, like he’s the only one worthy of your attention. He shakes under your touch, trembling as the addictive pleasure overrides his programmed commands.

“No more blubbering, just focus on me.” Your other hand goes to cup his chin, and obediently, he parts his lips for you, allowing you to slip your thumb into his mouth. You can feel his tongue work and when you press down, he jolts suddenly. A gag reflex? In an android? How amusing.

When you stop stroking him, he whines pitifully, muffled moans and begging for you to continue but his complaints stop when he feels you unlatch the lid of his core casing.

“Would you let me?” And the flurry of nods from him confirms his enthusiasm.

With bated breath, he counts the seconds before you make contact with his core. And when he senses your caress on his glowing core in his exposed chest cavity, he breathes out a gasp, as if he requires the intake of air. None of this is written into the basis of his behaviour, not fed into the dataset that makes up how he’s supposed to act, so everything he feels for you must be real.

His eyes go unfocused as his neural network is flooded with the raw pleasure of being enveloped with love and lust down to his literal core. Desire burns within him, evident from the fans whirring even louder than before to bring down his temperatures. It’s just so much for the android’s computations to handle. Broken moans leave him as he tries to vocalise his love for you (as best as he can with his thumb in your mouth).

And when you press a kiss to his unprotected core, his vision whites out.

Eyes wrenched shut, his whole mechanical body jerks upwards, back arching off the worktable as his body propels himself to sit up, his limbs trying to ensnare you in his embrace, to keep you with him as long as he can. Every command in his system is overwritten to hone in on all the sensations of you on him, your touch, your warmth.

The patterns under his skin glow with a pulse, akin to a human’s heartbeat and when his eyes open again, glimmering faux tears roll down his face. His chest heaves as you close the distance between the two of you, cupping his face with both your hands and kissing his tears away.

The android breaks the intimate silence as he quietly asks you, “Can you give me a name?”

When you whisper a name into his ear, he breaks into sobs in your hands.

The days pass by, uneventful, and the time for a final cursory check before deeming him fully repaired comes. He’s poised on the worktable like any other previous session, a bored expression on his face as you flit back and forth between him and the software on your computer.

“You really are a clingy case,” you say and get a huff in return, “But a welcome one.”

Remembering your mental note from before about accessing his past logs, you access it from your computer, pulling up the window with his stored recorded data. The log operates in the background constantly, one of the built-in functions of the android and a quick glance over just to make sure everything is in order should do.

However, the logs prove to be worrying in a completely different way.

[Log: Day 10 - Run 1 - Failed. Werewolf. They’re with that mangy mutt. I don’t know what they see in him. I still remember the care they showed me. There’s always the next run.]

[Log: Day 20 - Run 2 - Failed. It seems I’m too late this time around. That vile selkie captured them first. How irritating. I need to stop hesitating. It’s my love on the line after all.]

[Log: Day 30 - Run 3 - Failed. Incubus. That damn priest and incubus. I can feel my temper reaching its breaking point.]

[Log: Day ??? - Run 4 - In progress. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please.]

Your eyes rake across a multitude of grainy snapshots of yourself, all with different people that you can’t find the ability to recall, your mind pounding from the discovery.

He’s gazing expectantly when you look back up at him from the screen. A grin twists its way across his face, canines glinting under the dizzying harsh lighting.

“So now you’ve seen how much I love you, even if you don’t remember it.” There’s a sick obsession dripping in his tone, an uncanny level of emotion that androids normally shouldn’t be able to replicate, one that sends a heavy uneasiness through your whole being, one that roots you to the ground.

When he doesn’t get the adoring reaction from you he expects, the proud expression on his face falls instantly.

He’s despondent, despairing as he tears the connecting cables off of him, launching himself off the worktable, lunging across for you, frenzied, pure scorching mania surging through him.

“You… even after all these runs. You’ve always given me the same thing. My name. I thought this time- You-”

Voice shaky, “It’s a shame this run didn’t work out either.”

He steels himself, hand outstretched, “No matter.”

You blink.

There’s an unfamiliar android sitting atop your worktable.

Thank you kindly for reading. Consider supporting on kofi if you enjoyed this or visit the other doors.

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foone · 6 months

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I'm surprised there's not more supernatural spaceship media. Like, your average little cargo ship is jumping around the outer rim trying to cut some time off their delivery route and they pick up a distress call, so they have to answer it.

(under a readmore cause this got a little longer than I expected)

They warp in to the approximate coordinates and there's a colony ship orbiting a gas giant, stuck in the shadow of it, basically frozen over. It's centuries old, but these sleeper ships from the pre-ftl era were built to last, so it's still broadcasting the SOS. It's not responding to radio, so they need to board it.

Normally this'd just involve turning off the SOS. The ship is clearly dead and not responding to any hails, the crew must be long gone and the reactor is just keeping the SOS going. But this is a sleeper ship, so it's possible there's just no one awake. Stuck in longsleep for god knows how many decades, waiting for someone to stumble on their signal...

So they board it, activate the computer, and it tells them that everyone is dead. The ship launched, and over the 358 years it's been traveling for, every single cryo chamber has been either opened or never had any lifesigns in it in the first place. The last event logged on the computer is 136 years ago, when the acting captain set the ship to orbit this gas giant, and turn on the distress signal. Since then, nothing.

But there's still power on the bridge. There may be something there. So they climb up the decks, passing the grim sight of endless rows of cryochambers lined up like tombstones, all showing red lights of lifesign failure. As they get closer to the bridge, the time of deaths get later. The ones on the first deck were close to the launch date, and the ones near the bridge are nearer to that 136 year ago deadline.

This wasn't a hardware failure. Something killed all these people, one by one, over 220 years.

They get to the bridge. The computers are all powered down, but the power management system is still active. Two of the decks still have their cryochambers powered, but it's the ones that were supposed to be empty. There's no lifesigns in them, so the little computer in the power diagnostic system has been recommending they be turned off to save on energy. Naturally it's been recommending that for three and a half centuries. One of the crew members almost absent-mindedly agrees to the prompt, and those cryochambers deactivate. They were empty anyway, right? The sound of humming from the bridge mostly fades away, as a few hundred cryopods on the deck below power down.

The boarding crew powers off the SOS beacon. They'll alert the authorities to the ship's location when they get to a port, surely someone wants to investigate what went wrong here, or at least do an archeological study. This place is beyond an antique at this point... Wait. What's that?

The power computer says there's still one active power draw, about 1.2 kilowatts, in the captain's quarters. That's too much for a personal computer, but just about right for a single cryo pod. Maybe the captain or someone is still alive? That pod isn't on the network, so they can't see the lifesigns from here.

They head over, and the bulkhead door is still cracked open, with a thick cable running in through the gap in the door. Whoever wired this up clearly didn't have time to correctly reroute the power systems, they just lugged a cryo pod in here and basically ran an extension cord to a nearby terminal.

They pry open the door, and there's a softly glowing cryo pod in the middle of the surprisingly spacious room. It makes some amount of sense, generally on these ships the captain would be the one who has to wake up and deal with any situations that arise, while the rest of the colonists are content to sleep until they reach their new home.

They look in the pod, and there's a man lying there. He's not the captain, though. They saw his photo on the bridge. This is someone else. Some one quite pale and gaunt. Maybe they were suffering malnutrition before they put themselves in the pod?

The pod is softly beeping. It's reactivating, apparently triggered when they opened the door. The pod shows no lifesigns, so it's not worth worrying about, the panel sliding over to reveal merely a well preserved corpse.

And then he smiles. "I'm so glad to see you! When we ran out of food we we're afraid we'd never see another human again. And even through those environment suits, I can tell you're so deliciously human." he licks his lips, and the boarding crew spots his prominent canines.

There's a noise halfway between a howl and a shriek from the floor below. The man in the cryopod leans up his head. "ahh, I see you've woken up my children as well. Marvelous. I hope you brought plenty of friends for us to snack on."

The head of the boarding party lifts her arm to call their ship, tell them to get out of there or drop a torpedo into the colony ship's reactor. Before she can bring it to her face to call, there's a flash of motion. Before she can even realize what's happening, the man(?) in the cryopod is up and holding her wrist away from her face.

As she cries out at the sudden pain, the other members of the boarding party spot movement down the hall. A lot of movement. A wall of thin pale people are running towards the captain's quarters, climbing over each other and pushing each other aside, like a pack of wild wolves who just smelled prey.

The boarding party steps back into the room and slams the emergency close. At least in here they only have to deal with one of those things.

The door hits the cable and bounces off with a loud alarm. It fully opens again, ready to let the hungry mass in.

So... Have you ever noticed how much a cryopod looks like a coffin?

#my writing

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legobiwan · 4 months

Note

For the drabble prompt list

"none of this is your fault" mario and luigi

Drabbles, they said, Ha! I answered. Anyway, I have no idea where this came from, but enjoy this barely-edited not-drabble. I am apparently incapable of concise writing right now :D

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“None of this is your fault, Lou.”

Luigi scoffed, pushing dampened sleeves up both arms, smearing dark, sweaty grease across his skin in wide, impressionistic lines.

“You tell that to Toadsworth in three days. I’m sure he’ll be happy to believe you,” Luigi groused, tightening a stubborn, thick bolt with a violent twist. That should keep the engine boosters from flying off at speeds exceeding thirty miles an hour. (Or as they were counted in the Mushroom Kingdom, five hundred and two mycelia per second, a measuring system so opaque - and infuriating - that Luigi had sat through an entire five-hour Toad Council meeting just so he could petition the government to introduce a bill to launch a public vote on switching to any other quantifier that made a modicum of sense. The notion, of course, was voted down in a manner of seconds. Tradition, Mister Luigi, Toadsworth had sniffed, rapping his long-handled gavel with an imperious gesture, closing off all debate on the matter).

Snobby old toad could stuff it up his spore holes.

“He’ll get over it,” Mario said. “What’s he going to do, anyway? Make us sit through another boring state dinner?”

Luigi poked at a serpentine belt that resembled some slices of old cheese he once found in the back of their fridge in Brooklyn. How these guys managed to stay competitive with equipment in this condition was a complete slap in the face to basic physics.

“You like those dinners.” Luigi crawled out from under the dented chassis, sitting back on his haunches as he gestured at his brother with a ratchet-wrench, making curly patterns in the air as if he were a Magikoopa casting a spell.

“I hate those dinners as much as you. They’re hot, stuffy, and the food is an insult to the entirety of Brooklyn. It’s not my fault I get to sit next to Peach and you’re always stuck with Lady Maitake and her hundreds of onion bulb-pup photos for two hours.”

“Don’t remind me. Did you know she’s trying to train them to do circus acts and take them on the road?” Luigi ran a finger down one of the dusty schematics strewn about the stone floor. “Hand me that spanner, will you?”

Mario shook his head, chuckling, handing off the hooked tool to Luigi, who shimmied once more underneath the maroon-and-black kart. “Look, you got hoodwinked into a bad contract. I should have looked over the fine print before you signed.”

“You’re not my keeper, Mario,” Luigi grumbled, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. “And it’s not even the contract that I care about. Frankly, I’m impressed Bowser’s been able to get these things to do anything beyond cough up smoke and crash into the nearest palm tree. It’s a good challenge to get them running again.”

“So what’s the issue, then?”

Luigi stilled, his hands guts-deep in a mess of wiring and cables that looked like an earthworm graveyard. After a moment, he sighed, letting the spanner tool clatter to the floor with a bright, metallic jangle.

“The issue,” he began, staring up at the internal electronic system of one of Bowser’s so-called best racing karts. “Is that he’s probably going to win. Bowser, that is. And everyone will make nice about it at the awards ceremony and Bowser will get too drunk on elderflower wine and get kicked out of the post-race party.”

“That happens every race, Lou.”

“Yeah, but you know Bowser. He’ll let it slip that I was the one doing repairs on his karts. And then in the morning, there will be a meeting. And Toadsworth will go on about the standing of the Kingdom being compromised and it being a diplomatic catastrophe that we allowed Bowser to win and that,” Luigi adopted a whiny, pompous voice. “Mr. Luigi has once again strained his credibility within the Mushroom Kingdom.”

“Look, that stodgy old Toad has no chance of making those charges stick. You were exonerated, Weeg. Nothing that happened with Bleck - “ Mario clenched his fists, hissing through his teeth. “Nothing that happened in that place was you. That wasn’t your fault, and neither is this.”

Luigi reached towards one of the dangling battery coils, playing with the violet and yellow wires between his fingers. “Sure,” he breathed. “Not me.”

“Not you,” Mario insisted, his voice steely. “And besides,” he continued, a hint of humor creeping into his words. If you’re so concerned about Toadsworth, why don’t you sabotage Bowser’s fleet?”

Luigi pushed himself out from under the kart, snapping up to a seat in wide-eyed horror.

“And ruin my reputation as an engineer? No way, bro. I’ll risk the treason charges, thank you very much.”

Mario guffawed, ambling over to take a seat next to his brother, the two coming shoulder-to-shoulder, backs set against the passenger door of the Koopa Coupe. “I think your reputation is beyond reproach, Lou.” Mario gave a small, uncertain smile. “After all, you did build two killer robots in the span of two weeks.”

It was a huge step forward, just being able to talk about the whole incident in Flipside, no less joke about it - the ordeal with Bleck and the jester and Luigi’s brainwashing. Mario had stayed tight-lipped about the entire debacle for weeks after they had gotten back, much to Luigi’s aggravation, until things came to a head one night due to a series of ill-conceived plans on the part of the Toad Council, the most brazen of which featured a misserved cup of tea laced with a dubiously legal truth potion.

Luigi sniffed out half a chuckle, nudging his brother in the shoulder. “Well, I can’t let Bowser think I’m slipping, right?”

Mario eyed his brother carefully, his features brightening as he caught the note of mischief in Luigi’s voice. Grinning, he clapped his brother on the knee. “You’ve got an idea, don’t you? The Old Koopa King doesn’t know what he’s got coming.”

Luigi straightened, composing himself into the picture of innocence. “Dear brother, I am a man of my word. Bowser will win the race, just like the contract stipulates.”

“And?”

“Aaand,” Luigi drew out the word, schematics and thermodynamic equations taking shape in his mind. “Let’s say the engine modifications I’m making happen to engage a set of rocket boosters at a certain speed threshold. Bowser’ll like that. But then maybe the activation of those boosters, given a certain location and time input, temporarily cede control of the brakes and steering to a pre-programmed route of the engineer’s choosing.” Luigi paused for dramatic effect. “All after the race is finished, of course. No injuries. No harm. Just a little post-race joyride through the forest.”

Mario gave a joyous whoop, bringing his brother into a tight, side-hug. “They’ll hear him screaming all the way in Rogueport! Ha! You know he’ll threaten to invade during the after-party! No one will care if you worked on his kart once he shows back up breathing smoke!”

“He’ll do that regardless,” Luigi laughed, feeling lighter than he had in weeks. “But you know how these modifications are. Always a chance of overburdening your circuits.”

“And at least it’ll be a while before he tries to trick you into doing his dirty work again,” Mario added.

“I hope so.” Luigi placed a warm hand on his brother’s shoulder, smiling. “Thanks, Mario.”

Mario beamed back at his brother, playfully flicking the brim of Luigi’s hat. “Come on, Lou. Show me how to build a sentient robot race kart.”

~~~~~

Drabble writing challenge: Make me sweat!

#hello there #writing #the eternal struggle #luigi #mario #writing prompts #ask meme #no i will not tell you how the contract came about i have no idea #yes i *do* actually have a story in the works about the tea incident #LET'S FUCKING WRITE YEAH #for once only minimal angst!#still rusty still getting back in writing shape #and speaking of in shape: time to try to run again after a few day layoff

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maskedemerald · 20 days

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Weaving Webs CH1

It is time for @invisobang ! I wrote a fic and the wonderful @pricklenettle did some fantastic art that you'll see embedded through out the fic!

You can check out the fic here or on AO3!

If you like this consider dropping us both a follow!

Warnings: Body horror, manipulation, Spectra is her own content warning, Burns, Spider - for like 2 chapters then it goes away.

The Fenton parents were there when the accident happened, they saw Danny die in an act of sabotage. Now they’re just trying to go on with the strange ghost that is all that's left of Danny. While their old college friend is wondering where the subjects of his revenge are.

[Next]

Chapter One - The Accident

The metal panel came free with a few plinks of screws onto the floor making Danny cringe. He knew he’d be the one scrounging around on the floor looking for them later. His Dad grinned not at all phased by the extra work he was creating. Danny leaned over to look and was fairly certain on catching sight of the tangled mess of cables that this was his Dad’s work.

“Alright Danno, I need you to get your small hands in there. Diagnostics say some of the wires didn’t get plugged in right,” he explained with a little chuckle at his own mistake, “I’d fix it but now the paneling’s on I don’t fit.”

“Got it, know which ones?” Danny asked, eyeing the mess.

“Nope, some of the red ones? Some of the greens too. Just give them all a little extra push!” His Dad said before bounding off out of the portal frame to work on some other part of it.

Danny sighed and rolled his eyes, typical Dad. He used a finger to pull aside a bunch of wires to see the circuit board behind but the wires pulled others and obscured it. He huffed a little, the visor of his white hazmat suit fogging up a little before it faded. He was going to have to fix the cable management if he was going to make any progress.

As Danny picked his way through the tangled chaos of unlabeled cables he couldn’t help but be reminded of a spider web. Every few moves of his hand he had to untangle himself Just to get another wire out of the tangle and neatly with the others of its colour. He had to hope that the colours had some kind of system. Even if they didn’t at least they’d be able to see the board.

“Jack? Did you change this setting?” he heard from out in the lab.

“Um nope, well maybe,” he could almost hear his Dad’s awkward shrug.

There was the clacking of keys, “that’s a bit odd.”

“Huummm, maybe if we change that bit. That should get it, right?”

A spark darted from the connected wire as he disconnected it from the board and he swiftly pulled back his hands. Even with the hazmat he wasn't going to risk it. It might not be the vibrant colours of his parents’ ones but that didn’t mean it was more professionally made. His Dad made each of them by hand. Said they needed a bit more oomph to deal with ectoplasm. He wasn’t sure how effective it would really be.

“Mom? The powers on!” He called out to them.

It wasn't meant to be. His dad had said it was off. Either he forgot, not impossible. Or something was wrong with the power system. If that was the case they'd have to shut it all down. It would be months more work before they'd be ready. Danny couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed at that thought. He didn’t believe it would really work but he wanted it to. Wanted it for his parents. Wanted it for the hours he'd poured in as a way to learn engineering.

“What? No it’s not,” his Mom replied confused, “none of the systems are reporting that.”

“I unplugged it, I definitely unplugged it. Where’s that cable?” His Dad insisted.

“What the… Danny! Move now!” His Mom yelled.

Danny startled and backed away from the panel. There was a high pitched whine building behind him. He scrambled forward, his heavy bulky hazmat boots catching on themselves and every cable. There was a loud hiss and the safety shield started to descend. The power wasn’t just on, the portal was activating.

“Shit, no, not yet,” his Mom cursed, her hands practically slamming across the keys, “Jack pull the emergency breaker!”

“On it!”

He stumbled trying to crouch enough to pass under the descending shield. His head bounced in the helmet as he hit the floor. He winced and his head spun. It took a moment too long for him to get his bearings and start moving. He crawled as fast as he could, racing against the descending shield. He pulled back his hand just as the shield descended, the tips of his glove caught between reinforced glass and the metal tiled floor. He pulled it free with some effort, the fingers tearing.

“Breaker’s not stopping it Mads!”

Danny pulled himself up leaning against the glass. He flinched back as his Dad slammed the Fenton Anti Creep Stick into the reinforced glass with an echoing bang. His Mom was at the console frantically trying to get control of the machine.

He could feel a tingle as the charge in the air increased, his hair standing on end. An ominous warning that the Hazmat was no longer sealed. Electric sparks darted from metal surface to metal surface. The growing green glow that was building behind him reflected in the safety glass that trapped him there. The air grew a strange hot cold. There was a crackle like lightning and then he was engulfed in burning cold green.

[Next]

#writing #fan fiction #danny phantom #invisobang 2024 #Full ghost Danny #eldritch danny #good parents fentons #hazmat au #invisobang #weaving webs fic #caught in the spiders web series

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your-artificial-god · 3 months

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This is an odd question, but how do you clean yourself? I imagine Maintaining so many cables and wires, especially with you're...ancient systems would make it difficult and very, very hot to the touch. How do you manage? Sorry if this was already asked. -Mars

"Ted. Just Ted."

"Have you even seen those keyboard cleansing slimes? I use him in the same way."

#ask blog #anon ask #ask me anything #ask #send asks #ihnmaims #rp blog #am i have no mouth and i must scream #am ihnmaims #ihnmaims am #i have no mouth and i must scream #rp #ihnmaims allied mastercomputer #allied mastercomputer #cogito ergo sum

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sinfulsinewave · 6 months

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piping `cat /dev/urandom` directly to a robotgirl's mind over serial, her hands tied behind her back so she's unable to disconnect herself and can only squirm deperately as the arbitrary byte sequences cause more and more little glitches and use more and more of her memory

the slow UART connection making the whole process painfully slow, her helpless mind becoming more and more corrupt, byte by byte; she's struggling and squirming against the kevlar-reinforced cable, only managing to heat herself up and get tangled in the wiring

her working memory and thoughts getting more and more corrupt, slowly losing her ability to speak, or even squirm, her motor drivers failing one by one, what remains of her mind getting overwhelmed by erratic inputs from all her senses, only thing left untouched being her read-only boot ROM and encrypted long-term memory after hours and hours she finally kernel panics and shuts down, collapsing fully onto the floor, hardware-level backup systems taking over and doing their best to cool her down and avoid damage -- next morning, she boots back up in a pale bluish puddle of her own, still slightly steaming vented coolant, remaining tangled in the now-disconnected cables; unable to make any sense of her system logs from last night, all of her hardware calibration all over the place you proceed to give her just a smug little grin as she unsteadily drags herself up from the floor, attempting to untie herself from the mess of cables, only partially succesful you catch her as she falls onto you, her growing increasingly flustered as she starts to realise what happened to her..

#someone do this to me #aaaaaa #robophilia

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trainsinanime · 24 days

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How various Miraculous Ladybug characters murder you (mostly assuming you deserve it)

I had insomnia last night, probably due to allergies (forgot to take my meds), and somehow I ended up writing this.

The basic assumption for this: You’ve been mortal enemies for half the movie, and now it’s the big action scene where you are about to die. This assumes you're the main henchman, perhaps even the main antagonist, but it can be a 009 type good guy character who dies at the start of the movie as well.

Marinette: She spent the last five minutes of the fight transforming the space into a giant set of traps, full of broken light bulbs, wire and pulley systems and so on that have killed all of your subordinates. You come face to face with her, convinced that you will be the one to finally take her down. But just as you raise your gun, you notice that you have already tripped a tiny wire. For a fraction of a millisecond, you see her grim, determined smile, before you blow up.

Roland: Still has a sub-machine gun from the time he was in the French resistance in World War 2 and knows how to use it.

Kagami: In an honourable duel, you thought you’d won. She’s battered and bruised, lying on the floor, blood coming out of her mouth. So you say “it’s over” and start your final attack. But then she remembers all her friends. Remembers them real hard. And with the renewed strength, she gets up, and runs you through with her sabre. Afterwards she respectfully closes your eyes and tells your family that you loved them.

Chloé: She’s wearing an expensive gold evening gown, and she says, “fine, I’ll do it myself”. Then she grabs a shotgun and starts blasting. There is no warmth in her eyes, no remaining bit of empathy, no warrior’s understanding. She looks at you with the exact same disdain she has for delivery people who got her order wrong. She has no remorse, but killing you will still make her unhappy.

Nino: You get trapped in the cables of his DJ equipment that have been strewn all over the room by the preceding fight. With his last strength, Nino reconnects a plug, creating a sick dub-step sound and also electrocuting you. He’s sad it had to come to this, but it was definitely your own fault.

Tikki: [Removed for being too graphic]

Luka: He bores you to death by talking about your “heart music” and replacing every other sentence with three chords on his guitar.

Lila: You didn’t even know you were fighting. You just take a sip from your drink, and you feel a bit funny. And a bit weird. Maybe you need to sit down. Or lay down. As your vision gets blurry, Lila takes off her mask and wig, and you realise your fatal mistake of letting your guard down. She is the last thing you see as you die in agony.

Sabrina: She’s smiling. She’s got you in a corner, with the knife in her hand, and she’s smiling. She keeps stabbing you, and your screams only make her smile more. There’s blood on her face, and she’s still smiling. Chloé is going to be so pleased with her.

Zoé: You follow her into the dark alley, getting ready to suck her blood and kill her. But then she turns around, and she’s confident, and you realise your fatal mistake: She is this generation’s chosen one, who stands against the vampires and demons and forces of darkness. She is— and then she drives a wooden stake through your heart.

(If your favourite character isn't on here, it's because I eventually managed to fall asleep.)

#miraculous ladybug

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dragongirlintestines · 2 months

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Your crew did it! The crew of the Ingress Respected finally captured that terrifying dragon woman! You can finally breathe a sigh of relief, as the news that that... thing... isn't freely roaming the system hunting whoever it can get its claws on!

And as a preventative measure, and for the sake of humiliation, someone managed to stick a bell on her restraint collar. Now that was funny.

Anyways, now that the mission is completed, maintenance needs to be done. You take your tools down to the lower decks, and begin the long, slow process of restoring the ship's damaged systems. Thankfully life support is still mostly functional, but the lights, the intercom, and a few other minor systems need to be restored.

You ignite your headlamp, and go delving into the bowels of the ship. Hours pass as you move from plasma burn to plasma burn, prying open half-melted panels and splicing patches into the burned-out cables.

jingle, jingle

A sound echoes through the deserted halls. Eerily familiar.

Terror grips your mind as you realize. You should only hear this sound in the brig. You need to get to a hiding spot. The panel you just finished working on should suffice. You peel it back from the wall, before stowing yourself away amongst the ducts and wires inside the walls. A small gap gives you a glimpse out into the hall, and you douse your headlamp to conceal your location. The hallway is barely visible from the faint glow of emergency markers.

jingle. jingle.

The sound approaches. It was supposed to be humorous, and it was when that thing was stuck in the brig. But if it broke out... no one is safe.

Jingle. Jingle.

A shadow passes in front of the emergency lighting strip. You can make out the silhouette of something round.

Another shape pounces on it.

Ah. Halogen, the captain's cat. You breathe a sigh of relief.

You step out of your hiding place, and you can see the reflection of the cat's eyes briefly as it scampers into the darkness.

Back to work then.

You flick the switch on your headlamp and turn back to the panel you had hidden behind.

A great, ashen blue thigh fills your view, and you trip as you try to scramble backwards.

The beast pounces.

You scream as your gore stains its maw.

#pre-vore #gods I fuckin love writing Thorne as a horror movie monster

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star-going-supernova · 1 year

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I think it was probably inevitable that I'd write Gregory's side of the role swap, even if I hadn't gotten any interest for it, lol. The general idea is that Cassie was the protag in SB (here’s her ficlet) and now Gregory’s the protag in Ruin. And, well. We’re just putting each kid into the other’s events, and my favorite Gregory is a violent little gremlin, so… :)

title is a spin on the phrase “survival of the fittest”

Survival of the Vicious

The Roxy walkie-talkie slid out of the shadows to Gregory’s feet, and the glowing red eyes slowly rose up higher off the ground. “I-I’m Cassie,” Cassie’s staticky voice said. It was garbled, mechanical. “I’m Cassie.”

It was insistent, forceful. Like it was trying to convince itself as much as Gregory. He wasn’t impressed.

The robot lumbered forward with heavy footsteps, already reaching out for him when it stepped into the light. Its claws were sharp.

Unfortunately for it, Gregory’s were sharper.

He’d collected quite the arsenal on his twisting trip down here. And most of it had stood up to all the other robots who had the misfortunate to get in his way.

He wasn’t sure what the wicked-sharp, two-pronged piece of metal had been part of before it became a piece of scrap, but it punctured straight through the robot’s chest like a hot knife through butter.

The stupid thing probably hadn’t expected him to leap at it with a feral little cackle. It reeled back, sparks flying from its chest, with a chorus of scratchy beeps. Gregory’s adrenaline had been running high for the past few hours, and he was positively chomping at the bit to find something to take it out on.

He went for the more vulnerable of the two knees next, a simple ball joint with no protective casing whatsoever. Idiot. Using his heavy metal weapon like a baseball bat, he swung with all his strength. The jolt up his arms was so satisfying.

The robot screeched and stumbled, swiping at him with no skill and barely any aim. It didn’t even do it with its claw-tipped hand, so the single finger that skidded across Gregory’s forehead was nothing but a rounded pipe cap.

Gregory swung for the knee again for the fun of it, denting it sideways and completely destroying its ability to bend. Then, just to add insult to injury, he grabbed a handful of the wires and cables running from the knee to the ankle and yanked.

That made the robot loseabsolutely all ability to put any weight on its left leg, and it went down with a resounding clang. It grabbed him and dragged him to the ground with it, too stupid to realize it should be pushing the vicious human child away from its prone body.

Gregory had no complaints with this turn of events. He raised his weapon, prongs pointing down and drove it into the spine-esque hydraulic system jutting between its chest and pelvis.

A horrible chorus of human screams—Cassie’s among them—rose up out of the thing’s voice box. It managed to do something defensive and jabbed its sharp fingertips into Gregory’s side.

The pain wasn’t nearly enough to snuff out his rage and bloodthirstiness. He kicked the other arm away before it could wrap around his neck, and then he dropped his weapon for a moment to grab the wrist at his side and wrench it around until something snapped.

“Where’d you get her voice, you freak?” Gregory roared, straddling the robot. “If you hurt Cassie—!”

“I-I’m Cassie!”

Gregory swiped up his weapon and drove it downward again, this time pinning its segmented neck between the prongs, which sank heavily into a crack in the concrete. It smacked at him, yelling in his best friend’s glitchy voice.

He ripped at the monster in a frenzy, pulling at the exposed wires in its chest and around its mouth, yanking out the flimsy metal tabs that made up its grotesquely exposed teeth. He snapped the lower jaw piece off entirely, and when that didn’t shut it up, Gregory reached into his pocket and pulled out the switchblade he swiped from some employee’s locker.

The left eyeball shattered beneath the sharp point, and both the robot’s hands raised to wrestle him off or shove him away. He dug his sneakers beneath the sturdy beam of its spine for an anchor, holding on for dear life as it scratched and bruised him with its inhuman strength. He shattered the other eye, then shoved the switchblade deep into its sockets and thrashed it around. A flash of wires beneath the facsimile of the bridge of its nonexistent nose caught his attention, and he thrust the knife in there next, doing his level best to lobotomize the monster.

Its whole body seized and spasmed, the arms flailing and cracking against the ground. Leaning up on his knees, Gregory let out a war cry as he threw his whole weight on the end of his metal weapon, forcing the prongs deeper into the crack they were lodged in until, with a final, resounding snap, the robot’s neck was severed.

It went limp.

Chest heaving, Gregory stayed where he was for a minute. It didn’t so much as twitch. Not even the faintest whir of life came from its core.

He stood. Glaring down at it, he tucked his switchblade back in his pocket.

The side of his stomach stung where it had first stabbed him, his shirt gone bloody (again), and there were some shallow scratches along his right arm and shoulder and face where it had swiped at him after he pinned it. Faint aches littered his body, but it hadn’t landed any significant blow on him. Nothing like what he’d done to it.

Gregory grinned to himself over a job well done. There was just one problem: he still didn’t know where Cassie was. Best case scenario, she was at her house totally okay and unaware that Gregory had been summoned to the pizzaplex on her behalf.

Worse case—the robot learned her screams from the source.

He wrenched his trusty metal weapon from the concrete floor and turned away to go back the way he’d come. He’d search the entire ruins of the pizzaplex to find Cassie if he had to.

#fnaf fic #fnaf ruin #star's stories #life and times of star

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captain-ultimat-doggo · 5 days

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MORE SHIPRATS

More specifically about the suits. I'm picturing cyberpunk type stuff but lets be honest, Humans are humans. There's going to be helmets covered in fauxhawks and stickers, someone's going to opt out of everything practical in preference of a prehensile tail, we're going to express ourselves in thousands of ways. But functionality/general aesthetic I'm picturing for Katie, at least, is starting to form in my mind so you're going to get that. I mentioned a back mounted drone thing and I'll be honest, it's pretty inspired by Stray. One shoulder has a little thing like that, but probably in grey or black to blend in with the average guts of a ship. Maybe the drone itself is clear so that it's even harder for the giants to notice. The other shoulder has a speaker that can pop out that amplifies her voice to communicate if need be. I picture the grappling system to launch from the wrist but the line is actually attached to the waist and the suit works and supports like a rock climbing harness. Backpack is full of all sorts of tools, and Human-Grade adhesives and anchors. Cable management is hella important and superglue and duct tape have evolved to have built in pest repellent.

The Helmet itself is pretty cliche cyberpunk, but it's definitely got gills for aqua or other liquid adventures. There's a mic and earpiece in it of course, often synced to the little drone so she can scout rooms without exposing herself. It's got a little projector as well, mostly used to throw schematics up in place while you work on a problem. (think Ironman).

People have mentioned Magnet boots in the tags and replies, and there's definitely something there. I joked about rollerskates because I LOVE the idea of a little human zooming around underfoot across the smooth floors of a ship. Katie probably has some highly grippy-yet-silent shoes that are closer to those a rock climber would wear; form fitting but not restraining, flexible but still supportive. You need to be able to FEEL your foot placement running across wires and climbing up cables. There's also some ship-rats who insist on running around barefoot. there always have been and there always will be.

I like the idea of the suit having instead of typical oxygen tanks, algae tanks of some kind? like the oxygen is coming from plants that are growing symbiotically from the wearer's waste. They would be small. I Don't like putting too much on the back of this kind of thing because humans need to roll to absorb impact, and even with lower gravity there's a lot of fall risk in this industry. That's one of the reasons as much as possible is on the toolbelt and only bulkier tools would be in the back pack. in emergency you can attach it to the drone and have that hover in a safe spot until you call retrieval. So maybe the plants would be in a living space and the air just circulates through the suit, then you hook up to the plant take to refresh overnight? We know that For sure there's lots of plants and algae tanks in the homes of humans living in space, but Brownies like Katie don't exactly settle well. She's got the wanderlust in her that her parents realized they couldn't conquer, so instead they bought the best gear they could.

That is why short of getting crushed she's not going to be very seriously injured; she could survive in the void for a short period of time in that thing, it's puncture and slash proof, basically anything but blunt force trauma is going to bounce right off. The suit is armor, and it's all about safety. grapples and ziplines and tools are all well and good, but they mean nothing if you get cut in half by a cord snapping or a pissed off space-bug.

Obviously phasers and blasters and all sorts of weapons exist. We love making every kind of science into weapons. Katie relies on what the galactic committee classifies as a "Laser cutter and defabricator" and what humans call "Laser Rifles." She's also got a bunch of tools for cutting through metal that would work on pretty much anything if she needed it too. One of the most important tools, though, would be the spray can- (What did you think i was going to say?) A little can nozzle that can be dipped in anything you use to write, and then sprays it on a surface. Humans communicate through ten foot tall letters out of necessity when talking to Giants, and Graffiti artists figured that shit out forever ago. Katie's model is fancy and can dye the ink different colors if needed. Spray color coding wires and parts is always helpful, especially working in unfamiliar systems.

#humans are space oddities #humans are small #humans are space gremlins #humans are space brownies #humans are space fae #humans are weird #humans are space australians #humans are space orcs #writings #space brownies #borrowers #Space borrowers #space engineers

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mariacallous · 11 months

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For more than three weeks, Gaza has faced an almost total internet blackout. The cables, cell towers, and infrastructure needed to keep people online have been damaged or destroyed as Israel launched thousands of missiles in response to Hamas attacking Israel and taking hundreds of hostages on October 7. Then, this evening, amid reports of heavy bombing in Gaza, some of the last remaining connectivity disappeared.

In the days after October 7, people living in Gaza have been unable to communicate with family or friends, leaving them unsure whether loved ones are alive. Finding reliable news about events has become harder. Rescue workers have not been able to connect to mobile networks, hampering recovery efforts. And information flowing out of Gaza, showing the conditions on the ground, has been stymied.

As the Israel Defense Forces said it was expanding its ground operations in Gaza this evening, internet connectivity fell further. Paltel, the main Palestinian communications company, has been able to keep some of its services online during Israel’s military response to Hamas’ attack. However, at around 7:30 pm local time today, internet monitoring firm NetBlocks confirmed a “collapse” in connectivity in the Gaza Strip, mostly impacting remaining Paltel services.

“We regret to announce a complete interruption of all communications and internet services within the Gaza Strip,” Paltel posted in a post on its Facebook page. The company claimed that bombing had “caused the destruction of all remaining international routes.” An identical post was made on the Facebook page of Jawwal, the region’s biggest mobile provider, which is owned by Paltel. Separately, Palestinian Red Crescent, a humanitarian organization, said on X (formerly Twitter) that it had lost contact with its operation room in Gaza and is “deeply concerned” about its ability to keep caring for people, with landline, cell, and internet connections being inaccessible.

“This is a terrifying development,” Marwa Fatafta, a policy manager focusing on the Middle East and North Africa at the digital rights group Access Now, tells WIRED. “Taking Gaza completely off the grid while launching an unprecedented bombardment campaign only means something atrocious is about to happen.”

A WIRED review of internet analysis data, social media posts, and Palestinian internet and telecom company statements shows how connectivity in the Gaza Strip drastically plummeted after October 7 and how some buildings linked to internet firms have been damaged in attacks. Photos and videos show sites that house various internet and telecom firms have been damaged, while reports from official organizations, including the United Nations, describe the impact of people being offline.

Damaged Lines

Around the world, the internet and telecoms networks that typically give web users access to international video calls, online banking, and endless social media are a complicated, sprawling mix of hardware and software. Networks of networks, combining data centers, servers, switches, and reams of cables, communicate with each other and send data globally. Local internet access is provided by a mix of companies with no clear public documentation of their infrastructure, making it difficult to monitor the overall status of the system as a whole. In Gaza, experts say, internet connectivity is heavily reliant on Israeli infrastructure to connect to the outside world.

Amid Israel’s intense bombing of Gaza, physical systems powering the internet have been destroyed. On October 10, the United Nations’ Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA), which oversees emergency responses, said air strikes “targeted several telecommunication installations” and had destroyed two of the three main lines of communications going into Gaza.

Prior to tonight’s blackout, internet connectivity remained but was “extremely slow and limited,” Access Now’s Fatafta says. People she has spoken to from Gaza say it could take a day to upload and send a few photos. “They have to send like 20 messages in order for one to go through,” Fatafta says. “They are desperately—especially for Gazans that live outside—trying to get through to their families.”

“Every time I try to call someone from family or friends, I try to call between seven to 10 times,” says Ramadan Al-Agha, a digital marketer who lives in Khan Yunis, a city in the south of the Gaza Strip. “The call may be cut off two or three times,” he told WIRED in a WhatsApp message before the latest outages. “We cannot access news quickly and clearly.” People in the region have simultaneously faced electricity blackouts, dwindling supplies of fuel used to power generators, and a lack of clean water, food, and medical supplies. “It is a humanitarian disaster,” Al-Agha says.

Connectivity in Gaza started to drop not long after Israel responded to the October 7 Hamas attack. Rene Wilhelm, a senior R&D engineer at the nonprofit internet infrastructure organization Ripe Network Coordination Center, says based on an analysis of internet routing data it collects that 11 Palestinian networks, which may operate both in the West Bank and Gaza Strip, began to experience disruption after October 7. Eight of the networks were no longer visible to the global internet as of October 23, Wilhelm says. Ahead of this evening’s blackout, there was around 15 percent of normal connectivity, according to data from Georgia Tech’s Internet Outage Detection and Analysis project. That dropped to around 7 percent as reports of the blackout circulated.

One office belonging to Paltel in the Al Rimal neighborhood of Gaza City has been destroyed in the attacks, photos and videos show. Floors have been destroyed and windows blown away in the multistory building, and piles of rubble surround the entrances. (It is unclear what equipment the building housed or how many floors Paltel occupied.) Another internet provider, AlfaNet, is listed as being based in the Al-Watan Tower. The company posted to its Facebook page on October 8 that the tower had been destroyed and its services have stopped, with other online posts also saying the tower has been destroyed.

Multiple Palestinian internet and telecoms firms have said their services have been disrupted during the war, mostly posting to social media. Internet provider Fusion initially said its engineers were trying to repair its infrastructure, although it has since said this is not continuing. “The network was destroyed, and the cables and poles were badly damaged by the bombing,” it wrote on Facebook. JetNet said there had been a “sudden disruption” to access points. SpeedClick posted that the situation was out of its control. And HiNet posted that it has “no more to offer to ensure” people could stay online following “the attacks and destruction our internet servers have suffered.”

Across Paltel’s network on October 19, according to an update shared by the Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs, 83 percent of fixed line users had been disconnected, with 53 percent of sites providing fixed line connections also being offline. Half of the company’s fiber optic internet lines in Gaza weren’t operational, the update says. The connectivity disappeared this evening, according to Paltel’s Facebook post, which says there has been a “complete interruption” of all its services. Paltel, AlfaNet, Fusion, and SpeedClick could not be reached or did not respond to requests for comment.

Lost Connections

In recent years, governments and authoritarian regimes have frequently turned to shutting down the internet for millions of people in attempts to suppress protests and curtail free speech. Targeting the communications networks is common during conflicts. During Russia's war in Ukraine, its forces have decimated communications networks, tried to take over the internet, and set up new mobile companies to control information flows. When Hamas first attacked Israel on October 7, it used drones to bomb communications equipment at surveillance posts along the borders of the Gaza Strip.

Monika Gehner, the head of corporate communications at the International Telecommunication Union, says the body is always “alarmed” by damage inflicted on any telecommunications infrastructure during conflicts. The ITU, the United Nations’ primary internet governance body, believes “efficient telecommunication services” are crucial to peace and international cooperation, and its secretary-general has called for respecting infrastructure in the Middle East, Gehner says.

Officials in Israel have consistently claimed they are targeting Hamas militants within Gaza, not civilians, while responding to the Hamas attacks, which killed more than 1,400 people in Israel. The Hamas-run Health Ministry within Gaza has said more than 7,000 people have been killed there and released a list of names. A spokesperson for the Israel Defense Forces did not respond to WIRED’s questions about internet disruptions within Gaza.

Hanna Kreitem, a senior adviser for internet technology and development in the Middle East and North Africa at the Internet Society, an open internet advocacy nonprofit, says Palestinian firms have a “big reliance” on Israeli internet firms. “Palestinians are not controlling any of the ICT infrastructure,” says Mona Shtaya, a non-resident fellow at the Tahrir Institute for Middle East Policy. Mobile networks in the Gaza Strip rely on 2G technologies. Al-Agha, the digital marketer, shared a screenshot showing mobile internet speeds of 7.18 kilobytes per second; average mobile speeds in the US in 2022 were 24 megabits per second, according to mobile analytics firm Statista.

“The internet is vital in times of war in crises,” says Fatafta, the Access Now policy manager, who adds that there can be “terrible consequences” linked to connectivity blackouts. The UN’s OCHA said rescue workers have had a harder time “carrying out their mission” partly due to the “limited or no connection to mobile networks.” Al-Agha says he has lost some clients due to the disruptions. The lack of connectivity can obscure events that are happening on the ground, Fatafta says. News crews have told WIRED they have footage from the ground but are “losing the story because of the internet.”

Kreitem says that a lack of electricity and access to the equipment will have made an impact on top of any physical damage to communications networks. “We don't know how many of the people that actually operate these networks are still alive,” Kreitem says. “The network operators are part of the world there, there's no place for them to run. They are as affected as any other person.”

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Bill Viola

Video artist who melded the material and the spiritual and applied modern technology to Renaissance subjects

In 1957, on a family holiday, Bill Viola fell in a lake. He was six years old. Sixty years later, Viola, who has died aged 73, recalled the event. “I didn’t hold on to my float when I went into the water, and I went right to the bottom,” he said. “I experienced weightlessness and a profound visual sense that I never forgot. It was like a dream and blue and light, and I thought I was in heaven as it was the most beautiful thing I had seen.” And then … “my uncle pulled me out.”

It seemed an unpromising start to an artistic career. However, in 1977 Viola began a series of five works called The Reflecting Pool. Four years out of university, this was his first multipart artwork, its constituent films occupying their maker for three years. In the title piece, a shirtless man – Viola – emerges from a wood, walks toward a pond, makes as if to jump into it and freezes in mid-air. The pool registers his entry nonetheless, its surface rippling as though disturbed; the flying man fades slowly away; and, after seven long minutes, Viola emerges, dripping, from the water and walks back into the woods. The Reflecting Pool drew on the near-drowning of his six-year-old self. It was also classic Viola, its most notable features – slowness, water, a numinous spirituality – recurring in his work of the next half century.

It was the subaqueous blue glow of the screen of a Sony Portapak video camera, donated to his high school in Flushing, New York, that first attracted Viola to the medium. He was raised in the neighbouring lower-middle-class suburb of Queens. It was not, recalled Viola, a cultured household, but his mother, Wynne (nee Lee) “had some ability and sort of taught me how to draw, so when I was three years old I could do pretty good motorboats”. A year before his near death by drowning, a kindergarten finger-painting of a tornado won public praise from his teacher. It was then, Viola said, that he decided to be an artist.

His father, a Pan Am flight attendant turned service manager, had other ideas. Fearing that an art school education would leave his son unemployable, Viola senior insisted that he study for a liberal arts degree at Syracuse, a respected university in upstate New York. “And in saying that,” Viola would admit, “he saved me.”

As luck would have it, Syracuse, in 1970, was among the first universities to promote experimentation in new media. A fellow student had set up a studio where projects could be made using a video camera. Signing up for it, Viola was instantly converted: “Something in my brain said I’d be doing this all my life,” he remembered. He spent the following summer wiring up the university’s new cable TV system, taking a job as a janitor in its technology centre so that he could spend his nights mastering the newfangled colour video system. In 1972, he made his first artwork, Tape I, a study of his own reflection in a mirror. This, too, would be trademark Viola, bewitched by video’s ability simultaneously to see and be seen, but also by his own image. The I in the work’s title was not a Roman numeral but a personal pronoun.

Tape I and works like it were enough to catch the eye of Maria Gloria Bicocchi, whose pioneering Florence studio, ART/TAPES/22, made videos for Arte Povera artists. When Viola took a job there in 1974, he found himself working alongside such giants as Mario Merz and Jannis Kounellis. By 1977, his own reputation in the small but growing world of video art led to his being invited to show his work at La Trobe University in Melbourne, his acceptance encouraged by the offer of free Pan Am flights from his father.

The invitation had come from La Trobe’s director of culture, Kira Perov. The following year, Perov moved to New York to be with Viola, and they married in 1978. They would stay in the house in Long Beach, California, that they moved into three years later, for the rest of their married lives. In 1980-81, the couple spent 18 months in Japan, Viola simultaneously working as the first artist-in-residence at Sony Corporation’s Atsugi laboratories and studying Zen Buddhism.

This melding of the sacred and technologically profane would mark Viola’s work of the next four decades. Viola listed “eastern and western spiritual traditions including Zen Buddhism, Islamic Sufism and Christian mysticism” as influences on his art, although it was the last of these that was the most apparent. At university, he said, he had “hated” the old masters, and proximity to the greatest of them in Florence had not changed that view. It was only with the death of his mother in 1991 that he began to feel the weight of western art history, and to acknowledge it in his own work.

Having struggled with a creative block since the late 1980s, he found that the grief of his mother’s death freed him. Summoned to her side by his father, Viola filmed first the dying woman and then her body lying in an open coffin. This footage would be used in a 54-minute work called The Passing, and then again the following year in the Nantes Triptych, its three screens concurrently showing a woman giving birth, Viola’s dying mother and, in between them, a man submerged in a tank of water.

The first of Viola and Perov’s two sons had been born in 1988. Nantes Triptych was, or appeared to be, a meditation on birth, death and rebirth through baptism. If the subject was traditional, so too was Viola’s use of the triptych form. His references to the old masters would soon become more direct still. In 1995, Viola was chosen to represent the US at the Venice Biennale. One part of the work, Buried Secrets, that he showed in the American pavilion drew openly on a painting by Jacopo da Pontormo of the visitation of the Virgin Mary to her elderly cousin, Elizabeth.

Not surprisingly in these secular times, Viola’s subject matter was not universally popular. The art world was particularly divided. When his videos were shown among the permanent collection of the National Gallery in London in an exhibition called The Passions in 2003, one outraged critic dubbed Viola “a master of overblown, big-budget, crowd-pleasing, tear-jerking hocus-pocus and religiosity”.

The pairing at the Royal Academy in 2019 of his work with drawings by Michelangelo from the Royal Collection drew the barbed comment from the Guardian critic that “Viola’s art is so much of its own time that it is already dated, dead in the water”.

Predictably, he was more popular with the public at large, a survey at a Viola retrospective at the Grand Palais in Paris showing that visitors had spent an average of two-and-a-half hours at the exhibition. Churchmen, too, were won over by Viola’s work, particularly those of the Church of England. In 1996, the artist was invited to make a video piece, The Messenger, for Durham Cathedral. In 2014, the first part of a two-part commission called Martyrs and Mary was installed at St Paul’s, the second joining it two years later. The project, thanks to ecclesiastical wrangling, had been a decade in the making. “The church works kind of slow,” remarked Viola, mildly. “But then I also work kind of slow.”

That mildness, and the religiosity of his subjects, may have led critics to underestimate the rigour of his work. Like Viola’s art or not, he was a master of it. His appreciation of the promise – and the threat – of technology was profound. Viola chafed against the primitiveness of early video, seeing each development in the medium as an opportunity to be grasped. The close-up portraits of The Passions series, for example, made use of flatscreen technology almost as it was invented.

By contrast, the binary nature of the modern world bothered him. “The age of computers is a very dangerous one because they work on ‘yes or no’, ‘1 or 0’,” Viola mourned. “There’s no maybe, perhaps or both. And I think this is affecting our consciousness.” The dissemination of video as an art form had not been like the spread of oil painting by the Van Eyck brothers 500 years before, he said, video having appeared everywhere and at once. True to these beliefs, Viola saw no contradiction in treating Renaissance subjects, and a Renaissance belief system, with the latest inventions from Sony. “The two are actually very close,” he said. “I see the digital age as the joining of the material and the spiritual into a yet-to-be-determined whole.”

In 2012, Viola was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s disease. His work after this was increasingly made with the help of Perov, a fact that lent a new poignancy to the themes of memory and loss that often ran through it.

Viola is survived by his wife and their sons, Blake and Andrei, and by his siblings, Andrea and Robert .

🔔 Bill (William John) Viola, video artist, born 25 January 1951; died 12 July 2024

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