#metro turnstiles

[tripodturnstile]

three arms turnstile door from RS Security Co., Ltd(www.szrssecurity.com) Suitable for all types of public locations that need organized passage of pedestrians, such as picturesque spots, exhibit halls, cinemas, docks, train stations, bus stations and other places that require ticket confirmation; locations that require authorized entry such as factory attendance, canteen usage, golf courses, regular monthly card leisure centers, and so on; anti-static control locations of electronic factories, systems that need rigorous security steps such as face recognition and finger print recognition. RS Security Co., Ltd generally produces, establishes and sells access control items, such as three arms gates door, subway flap gates door, dc brushless swing turnstile gate, translation turnstile barirer, optical gates barirer, full body turnstile door, half height turnstile barirer, speed gates gate and other channel turnstiles gate products, and traffic barrier, facialface acknowledgment camera, hydraulic bollards, road bocker three rollers turnstile gate Integrated electronic tickets, gain access to control and attendance, club consumption/catering, anti-static, fingerprint, palm print, face acknowledgment, iris recognition Integrated application of other series of items; full stainless-steel frame structure, Taibang motor, individually established and produced motion; one-way/two-way turnstile door/ swipe to launch the lever button and the upper lever is optional, with Counting function can recognize RS485 direct interaction with the computer; tripod turnstile gate triggers and instructions and alarm triggers; automatic fall of the pole when power is off and manual fall The pole is optional, and it receives the switch signal to open turnstile door; it can be equipped with a card reading control part, and several units can be linked to the network; it can be equipped with magnetic card and distance card combination approaches; it can be purchased according to different functional requirements. Do. A completely rainproof box made from alloy aluminum or stainless steel, compared to the subway flap gates barirer servo motor swing turnstile barirer and other pedestrian passage devices, tripod turnstile barirer are more economical. It has an individualized installation interface (such as card reader, sign light setup, etc) to guarantee that the system integrator's control gates door devices is simple and practical to install. The motion of the three-stick turnstile barirer maker has actually an instantly adjusted hydraulic shock absorber. When using the three-stick turnstiles barirer operation, the sound is very little and silent. Impact, turnstile door bar automatically decreases back to center. The surface of the movement is plated with yellow dichromate. Can be configured with turnstile gate maker control, a couple of instructions control (set by user). The base is repaired with growth bolts.

[hwaightme]

Lone soul

(masterlist)

🏢pairing: singer!seonghwa x gn!reader 🏢genre: comfort, healing, angst, fluff, sci-fi/spec.fiction, soulmate au 🏢summary: numb to the pleas of those who receive the 'lone soul' verdict, what can happen when a man who lives for love enters your office, and for the first time you are met with eyes that wonder, that care, that feel so familiar, so true? 🏢wordcount: 4.1k total 🏢warnings/tags: unedited, set in another reality (softcore 1984?), discussing romance/love, fictional gov structures, soulmate theory/lone soul theory, partnership, companionship, sweet conversation, romance/romanticism, learning about what makes you who you are, trust, bonding, mutual respect 🏢 taglist: at the bottom of the fic 🏢 a/n: crafted after the beautiful ask from @sorryimananti-romantic <3 thank you my love <3 and to all, thank you for reading, any notes/reblogs appreciated!

Early morning - perfect time to check the mail, perfect time to watch the world fall apart. Each letter on the page left a searing sensation, hot iron piercing through the skin and twisting itself again and again, confirming the one thing that the reader feared, in cold formal terminology. There was little left to suggest any alterations, no additional words to imply an uncertainty or the need for a re-testing. Nothing. The letter, along with the rest of the contents of the hefty envelope were clear as the breaking of Park Seonghwa’s heart - he was a Lone Soul.

Rushing back inside, cowering away from the horrifically cheerful chirping of the birds outside, the young man stared at the piece of paper, flipping it again and again in his hands as if the words were going to magically change themselves and reveal a deeper meaning, or express their sincerest apologies for the mistake. He had been so certain in himself, in love, that Seonghwa had never even imagined the possibility of receiving anything from the National Soulmate Register Office aside from a prompt response to his request for a Soulmate Search.

What could this mean for his career? He, a song-writer with more lyrics written about love than he could remember - how would fellow musicians, artists, groups, companies, the public react upon hearing that the creator of their favourite tunes was confirmed to be lacking in a soulmate. How could he craft songs about love when he was not destined for it? When he would never find out the real feeling of meeting and having a soulmate, and watching the stars align? Seonghwa glanced at the awards that decorated the display case in his living room, settling on titles ‘Meant To Be’ and ‘Love, Love, Love’. This had to be a joke. A cruel joke. He knew love better than anyone could, he could feel it, express it and write it. Certainly better than anyone at that damn Office could. Seonghwa’s anguish rapidly transformed into a seething anger as he slammed the papers onto the coffee table and stormed away to change into the nearest outerwear he could find. With equally feverish determination and the envelope wedged under his arm, the man sped to the metro, only checking the location of the Office when he passed the turnstiles. 

If one were to ask any friend, neighbour or relative, they would all say that Seonghwa was a hopeless romantic. A believer in a happily ever after, a person who grew up overcoming so many challenges and turning to be surrounded by and receiving so much love that all he wanted to do was to share it. Truthfully, you were intrigued by his result as much as he was, this onyx-haired man with his head cradled in his hands, eyes studying the carpeted floor beneath him as he awaited for any elaboration from you. But there was no such thing as a mistake in your line of work. With a short sigh you finished your inspection of Seonghwa’s result letter, setting it down on the centre of the table, and began to type up his details for what you called a ‘routine check’ - truly, it was you making airs and pretending that you were trying your hardest to see if anything at all could be changed. A cruel, but necessary dance to ease the fall of those who ended up on the Lone Soul Registry, since, the sooner the individual accepted it, the sooner they could begin taking steps towards another future.

You suppressed a bitter smile; parents who were soulmates, brother who had found a soulmate early on in his life… no possibility of this outcome being hereditary. Checking key milestones of his life, you could only see things that point towards adoration itself and an appreciation of life’s beauty. There was even growth to self-acceptance and self-love - commendable. Scrolling, scrolling through, now accompanied by Seonghwa’s desperate gaze settled on your form that forced you to control your bored expression and settle on professional neutrality, there was nothing that gave you obvious hints on why exactly this young man was now in the Registry, but your judgement decided against pursuing this curious case further. It was far too early, on a Friday, and any more snooping would most certainly be above your pay grade and above average activity.

“Unfortunately, I cannot provide you with any more information other than what had already been given to you through the letter and booklet. If it is of interest to you I can provide you with some more resources on potential Lifestyle adjustments and point you to Lone Soul networks-”

“What I need is answers!” Seonghwa raised his voice, setting a hand down onto the edge of the desk a little too aggressively for you to feel totally comfortable. Your eyes narrowed as you regarded him with suspicion.

“Sir, all that could be provided to you-”

“This is a government office, for goodness’ sake. Don’t you have access to everything? This isn’t possible. This cannot be possible. How am I, of all people, a Lone Soul?”

“You are not the only Lone Soul, Mister Park. And yes, we are a government office, and as such, are able to offer you a number of resources that can help cope with the change and find a new rhythm-”

“New rhythm, you have got to be kidding.”

Biting the inner corner of your upper lip you admonished yourself for the joke that slipped through in response to the agitated visitor. Luckily for him, and perhaps unluckily for you, he had made it into the Office right at opening time, and coincidentally, you had no consultation bookings set for the hour. Of course, the receptionists had to be kind enough to change that in the blind of an eye, and now you had to power through yet another session of all stages of grief while not yet having drunk a single cup of coffee. The man was adamant on getting something, anything out of you - you were sure of it, even if it was a false promise. Inspecting his profile, which you pulled up and exploded onto the full screen of your monitor once again, you noted his request submission twenty seven days ago. And then another one, twelve days ago. All asking the same thing: who his soulmate was, what he could do, so on and so forth. The usual. So he was a desperate one. A shame.

“Unfortunately there is nothing I can do to change the status, seeing as it is permanent, but if you are interested in Lone Soul Matching then we can arrange a separate appointment to discuss this further.”

The mention of the Matching process seemed to be the final nail in the man’s hopeful coffin as he slouched forward, and whatever had been left of his anger quickly dissipated to reveal a shattered, melancholic artist who had just realised that whatever muse he had worshipped was nothing but a lie. You almost felt sorry as you slid the rest of the papers across, complete with a self-help guide and an information pamphlet summarising all services available in the NSRO. The minutes ticked away, but Seonghwa remained frozen in place. It was almost as if with your words, even though standard and practically scripted, you revealed to him a dark truth and the music that ruled the real world. You had uncovered his ears and sung the song of the harsh present, and he could not dare find himself relieved or content with the outcome. He knew that you were only a messenger, a passing face that represented thouSeonghwads of people working for an answer, but you could read a resentment in his expression as he finally raised his head after having hid his face from you. The usual agony, a standard response that you had been trained to not antagonise, and instead to de-escalate. You sat straighter, clasped your hands together and leaned forwards, an unreadable hint of a smile on your lips, somewhat comforting, but alluring to a chilling power that you still retained for as long as you were in this office.

“Shall we make another appointment? Or would you prefer to take some time to process the results and engage with us at a later date?” as you tilted your head a little, you took note of the clouded over, spaced out gaze of the man before you. Even when Seonghwa answered with a confirmation, you were not sure of what exactly he was agreeing to, nor if he was entirely there with you. “Mister Park, would you kindly state your availability?” he shook his head, evidently clearing the haze he was in, and you were met with the mist of two endlessly dark orbs.

His eyes were translating many stories to you, some of which you probably heard on the radio. Love songs, serenades, ballads, rap about love… songs turned into an amorous encyclopaedia a while ago. Even in this, Seonghwa was bound to be ‘just another’. At the same time, your heart hurt for him; perhaps the same as it did for others who came into your lonely office at the end of the corridor, perhaps in some other mysterious way. But anyhow, your expression softened, and you allowed yourself to sympathise with his misery. It was never pleasant to find out that you were not destined to have a life partner, to have that fairy tale happily ever after.

You have seen relationships fall apart before your very eyes after couples who naively thought that requesting the Soulmate Search would simply reveal one anothers’ names instead of a mismatch and a Lone Soul. You have seen familial disappointments, arguments… but at the same time, you witnessed unfiltered joy, liberation, excitement. There was never one answer to fated romantic solitude. You wished you could say that to the very distraught young man sitting in front of you. He was not much different in age to you. He was just like everyone - human. A human faced with intense change. Change that you yourself knew a little too well. In a moment of weakness, though you would like to think it was bravery, you made a tentative proposal, a tiny thin straw to grasp:

“I wholly understand how it must be for you, Mister Park. Which is why I would strongly recommend we meet again. Not for a request or escalation, but for a chat.”

“...a chat? You cannot be serious…” he uttered, head slipping into his hands once more, fingers running through long tresses, eyebrows furrowed.

“I am perfectly serious. Aside from human investigation and data management we do offer other types of services and support, considering our line of work,” while you were trying to be compassionate, the words would not twist themselves, choosing to remain in strict lines and scenarios, as though you were reading from a pre-prepared script. Thankfully, Seonghwa did not seem to mind, far too consumed by grief that you knew would pass eventually.

“And what would that be?”

“Like I said, a chat. Or many chats, depending on what feels most comfortable for you.”

“Are you saying you… are therapists?”

“Thoroughly trained and fully licensed.”

“I will be honest, that is quite impressive. I never knew that about the NSRO,” the hint of amusement was all you needed to know that he was climbing upwards, closer and closer to regaining at least some stability.

“The centre of our business and operations is people.”

“I figured.”

“Then, if this is of interest to you, would you be able to tell me the times you are available or prefer?”

“And about payment-”

“Government service.”

“Oh. Okay fair.”

“Then? Mister Park?” you tilted your head, eyeing the man. While his present demeanour was far from threatening - a quality which you had attributed to him following earlier outbursts, he was not quite a picture of comfort. A little dishevelled here and there, top a little crumpled. Many details reminiscent of a picture hanging on a wall being ever so slightly tilted.

“I have a concert in two days… then a festival next week… oh but that’s later so no trouble…” he was mumbling to himself as he recalled his schedule. It was awe inspiring to see his emotionality dissipate as soon as he talked about work. Your prior worries of how he would handle his career after being declared a Lone Soul disappeared rapidly, and you clicked on your calendar for Monday, feeling Seonghwa would be one unlikely to stall.

“Monday? Hm… four? PM? I have a couple of schedules in the morning but should be free then.”

“Four it is. Fantastic, well, Mister Park, I just booked the appointment for our chat, and the details should have automatically been sent to you via email. You will receive a text message reminder the day before, but should there be any other concerns do not hesitate to contact us.”

“Well I would assume I would be wanting to contact you, rather than the whole Office?” slowly, Seonghwa stood up, giving you one last tired smile.

“Of course. The email would be from me, and my official contact details would be in the signature. Anything else I can assist with?” While professionalism was preventing you from rushing the singer out of the office, your head was already drumming out an incessant, painful beat; it genuinely was far too early in the morning, and you were forced to feel far too many things. 

“Thank you,” the words were quiet, but genuine, and most certainly took you by surprise, “thank you for not leaving me alone.” The morning sunlight seeped into your office, casting a glow over his form. Tall, lean, disposition so familiar to you.

“Not at all. Good luck for the concert, and see you Monday.”

“See you Monday.”

He turned to leave your office, and as soon as the mutely coloured door clicked shut you closed his records, switching to massaging your temples. With one swift turn you were staring out of the windows behind you, wondering if the otherwise traditionally pleasant day appeared different to Seonghwa too. An artist, a dreamer, a lover. A couple of minutes passed, and you noticed him appearing out of the building and ambling across the concrete tiled yard. Another Lone Soul.

He would have been a great soulmate, you concluded, and with a sigh, rose to trudge to the shared kitchen for a cup of something mediocre, wondering if you had been like him when you discovered your own identical fate. No, no you hadn’t been. Passing a few posters that lined the corridors of the NSRO, you chuckled. No, you were not ambitious enough to dedicate yourself to what was essentially fuelled by love. Instead, you looked at the careers page of this exact place. In a few swift clicks, you had applied. In a few numb weeks, you had been interviewed and tested. In a few monotone months, you were no longer a Lone Soul, but a faceless, nameless entity that dissolved in the grey walls, unaffected, unobserved.

It was impossible to tell how many Mondays had passed. Even when Seonghwa decided to stop seeing you for ‘official’ chats, your meetings never exactly stopped, him having made it a habit to find you after your strenuous work hours and his own untameable scheduling. Quiet strolls, occasional bursts of conversation. A stop at a vending machine for beverages here and there. Nothing demanding on either of you. Except perhaps the fact that you decided to take the long way home on Mondays. But that was on you. And you did not mind. And neither did he mind nor care, apparently, considering how his frequent outings could always turn into a scandal, but somehow, it never turned out to be so. Maybe society had finally changed and people learned how to mind their own business, or maybe you really were faceless. At least one person could see you.

While Seonghwa had been surprised to find out that you, too, were a Lone Soul, you could see an immediate change in his approaches. A more relaxed, trusting manner and a sweeter resolve, he had transformed from a man mourning his future to a man who found a kindred spirit and in turn, rediscovered hope. You noted that a glimmer in his eyes did suit him best. He was inquisitive: almost in every session prior to their end he asked about what it was like to be a Lone Soul in the long term, and he quickly familiarised himself with all the relevant vocabulary that floated in the community’s shared lexicon. In part because it was your job and in part because you had been touched by his sense of self that was blooming anew, you told him all and then some. Of course, it was endearing how even though he was perfectly away that he would not experience that standard run of the mill romance nor that exhilarating, somewhat spiritual connection with another, he was still adamant on being a believer in romance.

Romance that went beyond love. Romance could be a good cup of tea drunk on a cool autumn day in one’s favourite cafe. It could be a particularly deep and vulnerable conversation with someone close that brought clarity. It could be a soothing melody trickling into the ears after drowning in cacophonous cityscapes. To Seonghwa, romance was everywhere regardless of whether one had a soulmate or not. To you it was bewildering, interesting, but a little outrageous. You would have agreed to disagree on this, not being one to enjoy dwelling in general, but there was one other thing that set Seonghwa apart from many you knew. He wholeheartedly saw a face in your fog, and the floating somnolence you had been for a number of years now was being kept on its toes, trying to collect all the pieces of yourself you intentionally scattered. You began to realise that sometimes, it might be important to know who you were. 

You had to start simple. You were you, an employee in the NSRO specialising in Lone Souls, from management of the Registry, to reporting and analysis, to direct support in re-identification as a Lone Soul. That much was clear, and that much you could recite to anyone and anytime. Now for other things… you were walking in a park, it was evening, the air was turning cooler and cooler. The city did not sleep, but the buildings appeared fatigued and worn down, much like yourself after a long day. No wonder this was your favourite part of this metropolis. Seonghwa would scold you for giving such vague descriptions and relying on your environment to define you. You looked off to the side to glance at the man himself who was huddling in a jacket - new, at least to you.

You did not like much, but tolerated most things. You tolerated how Seonghwa would debate with you, in fact you could dare say that you indulged in these interactions. You tolerated how he looked at you - kind dark brown eyes, stellar grin, all the attention in the world directed right at you. There was never a doubt that he was listening, caring, remembering. Now that you thought about it, again, you were not saying much about yourself, all of your mentioned tolerances leading back to your companion. Before you could drift any further into your musings, a sudden hum of a tune that you swore you knew from somewhere jolted you back into reality.

“Oh! Look over there?” Following Seonghwa’s hand, you spotted the source of the sound, “beautiful rendition of ‘I Can’t Help Falling in Love’, don’t you think?” You shrugged, simply satisfied with the fact that you were right in your suspicions that the song was indeed one you had heard before.

You followed Seonghwa as he trailed to the small crowd that gathered around the musician. Gracefully the saxophone turned into a live creature, entrancing the audience and inspiring the capable hearts. Blankly, you watched the flying fingertips that faded into shining metal and falling leaves. 

“Isn’t it romantic?” Seonghwa joked, his tone turning playful. 

“I… suppose? It might be?”

“Then tell me what you think of it, I’d love to know,” you turned to find him studying you, softly gleaming. The fairy lights strung up on the surrounding trees made him appear even more graceful than usual, if that was even possible. You could not help but return his blissful amiability with a quick smile of your own, and your best efforts to answer.

“Well… I think his technique is good. And many people are stopping, which suggests that he is objectively good and knows how to engage the audience.”

“Ooh, that’s true. Very interesting. What else?”

“I think that he picked a good time to perform. The park was recently redecorated and the weather this evening is clear. Plenty of walkers. Probably good business.”

“True, true…” he trailed off, seemingly deep in thought. You wonder if your observations were sufficient, “I really do love how you think.”

“What do you mean? Was that sarcastic?” you raise an eyebrow.

“Not at all. Never will be. It is just so unlike how I approach things usually, so I truly marvel at how you do it. In your great way,” not a hint of malice. Only that same curiosity. Those same eyes that saw you. Better than you saw yourself. 

That was what it was - the idea finally came to you. You were blunt, preferred all things to be direct, and any empathy was given similar to how one would prescribe medication. Clinical. With an analytical mind you had no trouble scrutinising individuals through numbers, but then could not ‘count’ on someone, that same analytical and hyper-logical brain preventing you from doing so. You felt for people, you could relate to people, you could guess their emotions, but remained the observer. That was your definition. That was who you were. 

“And um… how do you see it?” Seonghwa nodded at your question, and began.

“I see a soundtrack to many beginnings, middles and endings. I see the musical notes twirling in a waltz with the autumn leaves, the dance floor illuminated by the many fairy lights. I see each mind with their own story to this song, some reliving memories and others crafting a magnificent illusion. Beyond the park, I see residents in those apartment buildings over there,” he pointed at a couple of windows that were illuminated still, and were facing the park, “them looking out at the saxophonist wistfully, mystified by how he knew that this was exactly what they needed to dispel concerns of the earlier hours in the day.”

You two continued to journey on until you made it to a nearby bench, and decided to rest. Sat side by side, arm to arm, you observed the ebbs and flows of other friends, families, lovers who flocked to the musician, only to be swept away by the night and to be replaced by another. 

“Isn’t what you just said all made up?” cautious, you queried.

“Might be, but to me, it is romance. Or rather, the idea of romanticising. I am quite fond of seeing what I cannot physically see, and then inventing more and more on top of it until we have a complete tale.”

“No wonder your songs are such major hits.”

“Oh you flatter me.”

“No, no, you…this, you capture all of this so prettily. Few can.”

“Much like yourself.”

“I do not-”

“Just differently.”

“To you, perhaps, but not to many.”

“What makes you so sure?” he was countering you rapidly.

“Enough Lone Soul meetups. Most of us are like how I am.” pointing at yourself, you emphasised the point. 

“Hm, I should start going to them if there are so many cool personalities there.”

A sharp exhale the upwards twitch was all you could muster before falling completely silent, wanting to pretend that you could see the surroundings like how Seonghwa could. They remained dull and uniform, but the notion that there was this certain someone who, thanks to their past and present, could perceive so beautifully and had the unfathomable kindness to share his interpretations with you was what you were grateful for. Through his eyes, you could see what was around you. Through his eyes, you could finally see yourself. Through his heart, you could be understood.

“Thank you,” your voice barely a murmur, “thank you for not leaving me alone.”

🏢 perma-taglist: @shakalakaboomboo @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @innsomniacshinestar @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @jaehunnyy @maddkitt @ren-junwrld @marsstarxhwa @yeooclock @yeonjunnie @asjkdk @northerngalxy @my-loves-my-life @http-gyu

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[haunthouse]

its 1am and im thinking about fleeting connections with strangers. this post goes out to the beautiful woman in paris in 2019 who let me go through the subway turnstile at the same time as her because i couldnt find my metro ticket. i hope she's doing well

[loving-n0t-heyting]

California was able to pass a ballot measure bundled with the recent primary elections for >$1B to spend on locking up the homeless and insane and attracts untold quantities of riches in VC investments for some of the dumbest startups you will ever hear about all while maintaining by constitutional fiat property taxes low enough to hardly register and yet you propose raising taxes enough to fund free BART rides and you get sneers about how you are too ignorant to understand the concept of finite resources

The sight of a turnstile at a metro station should light a fire in yr soul

[greathoughtsphilosopy]

COP STOPPED ME IN THE METRO FOR HOPPING THE TURNSTILE WHILE I WAS WEARING A COLLAR WITH A BIG ASS BELL AND I GOT OFF SCOT FREE O7 HAPPY INTERNATIONAL WOMENS DAY

[amtrak-official]

the seattle light rail “fare collection” is just wide open. there’s no turnstiles or anything to prevent you from walking on for free. 10/10 metro

The issue is they literally seem to hide where you pay, making people unable to pay even when they want to. But otherwise that is how I would design a metro fare system

[athina-blaine]

Summary:

vehicle

noun;

1) A device or structure for transporting persons or things; a conveyance.

2) A self-propelled conveyance that runs on tires; a motor vehicle.

3) A medium through which something is transmitted, expressed, or accomplished.

-

Laios and Kabru take care of each other.

Rating: General Relationships: Kabru/Laios Touden Chapters: 1/1 [Complete] Word Count: ~2k Additional Tags: Domestic Fluff, Comfort No Hurt, Established Relationship, Autistic Character, Trans Male Character, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting Beta'd by @yuri-puppies

“I still can’t believe the new series director was sitting in the audience with us that whole time,” said Kabru as he weaved through the oncoming crowd. Must have just missed the train , he thought, looking over his shoulder back at Laios. “Good showmanship. Makes me excited to think that the studio’s getting out of its slump.”

“Yeah,” said Laios, craning his neck over the stream of people. His elbow bumped a passerby, abruptly jostling the tote bag of merch in his arms. “That was pretty crazy.”

Kabru nodded, scanning his metro pass onto the card reader. “It’s too bad we couldn’t get any autographs,” he called over the din as he shuffled through the turnstile, “but I guess there’s always next year.” He glanced back at Laios again with a sheepish look, gesturing toward his own shoulder bag brimming with merchandise. “Provided this year’s con hasn’t already bankrupted us.”

After squeezing through the turnstile himself, Laios drew up next to Kabru, his gaze wandering off with drooping eyes. “Hmm.”

Kabru had to hold back a sympathetic sigh as they reached the platform and stepped up to the yellow line. They still had another seven stops to go before they got home, but it was clear that Laios was starting to flag. The noise must be getting to him, even through his earplugs. As much as Kabru loved the opportunity to people-watch on the train, part of him still wished he’d insisted on just calling a cab from the convention center. But Laios was right that they couldn’t really afford it, especially after Kabru encouraged Laios to splurge on that new lorebook … If Kabru could at least snag him a seat …

[Continue on AO3]

[papasmoke]

All my haters become Vaders in my galactic empire of success

*galactic emperor eric adams voice* we've got too many nemoidians jumping the turnstiles on the coruscant metro

[salanaii]

Learn Korean with me - Week 38

Subway/Metro - Part 1

** Don't forget your journals and of course Netflix.

지하철역이어디죠?

Ji ha cheor yeog I eo di jyo

Where is the subway station?

지하철노선도가있나요?

Ji ha cheor no seon do ga iss nay o

Do you have a subway line map?

지하철노선을잘몰라요.

Ji ha cheor no seon eur jar mor ray o

I’m not very familiar with the subway lines.

인천까지가려면몇호선을타야하나요?

In cheong ga ji ga ryeomyeon myeoch ho seon eur ta ya ha nay o

What number line should I take to get to Incheon?

어느역에서내려야하나요?

Eo neu yeog e seo naeryeo ya ha nay o

Which station should I get off of?

제가맞게탔나요?

Je ga mach get ass nay o

(Literal) Did I get on right? = Am I on the right train?

개찰구는어디인가요?

Gae char gu neun eo di in ga yo

Where is the ticket gate/turnstile?

어떻게계산하나요?

Eo tteoh ge gye san ha nay o

(Literal) How do I calculate? = How can I pay?

지하철표는어디서사나요?

Ji ha cheor pyo neu neo di seo s ana yo

Where do I buy the subway ticket?

[fionayao2008]

Tripod Turnstile Overview Tripod Turnstile, Swing Turnstile, as well as Flap Turnstile( RS Security Co., Ltd: www.szrssecurity.com) are modern control gadgets for pedestrian flows. They are made use of in position where the entrance and leave of people need to be controlled, such as wise areas, canteens, hotels, galleries, gymnasiums, clubs, metros, terminals, anchors, etc location. Making use of Tripod Turnstile, Swing Turnstile, as well as Flap Turnstile can make the circulation of people orderly. Tripod Turnstile, Swing Turnstile, Flap Turnstile are used in combination with smart cards, fingerprints, barcodes and also various other recognition system devices to form an intelligent gain access to control channel control system; they are made use of in mix with computers, gain access to control, presence, billing administration, ticket systems and various other software application to develop a The smart Turnstile Gate thorough management system can realize features such as gain access to control, attendance, consumption, ticketing, as well as present limiting. This Turnstile Gate administration system becomes part of the "all-in-one card" and is set up at flows such as areas, manufacturing facilities, wise structures, canteens, and so on. It can complete numerous monitoring features such as worker card traveling control, presence at leave work and dishes, and also dining. Tripod Turnstile system features Fast and hassle-free: review the card in and out with one swipe. Make use of the licensed IC card and wave it in front of the wise Tripod Turnstile visitor to finish the Tripod Turnstile gate opening and also fee recording work. The card reading is non-directional and the analysis and writing time is 0.1 secs, which is quick and convenient. Safety and security and privacy: Use history or regional verification, licensed issuance, as well as one-of-a-kind identification, that is, the card can only be made use of in this system, as well as it is risk-free and confidential. Integrity: Card superhigh frequency induction, stable as well as reliable, with the capability to court and assume. Adaptability: The system can flexibly establish access and exit control personnel consents, time period control, cardholder validity and also blacklist loss reporting, adding cards and also other features. Versatility: Through authorization, the user card can be used for "one-card" management such as auto parking, attendance, gain access to control, patrol, usage, and so on, making it easy to understand multiple uses one card. Simpleness: Easy to install, simple to connect, the software program has a Chinese user interface and also is simple to run. Tripod Turnstile, Swing Turnstile, and also Flap Turnstile( RS Security Co., Ltd: www.szrssecurity.com) are modern control tools for pedestrian flows. The use of Tripod Turnstile, Swing Turnstile, and Flap Turnstile can make the flow of people orderly. Make use of the authorized IC card as well as wave it in front of the clever Tripod Turnstile visitor to complete the Tripod Turnstile gate opening and fee recording work.

[tripodturnstile]

tripod turnstile gate from RS Security Co., Ltd(www.szrssecurity.com) Suitable for all types of public locations that need organized passage of pedestrians, such as picturesque areas, exhibition halls, movie theaters, docks, train stations, bus stations and other places that require ticket confirmation; places that require authorized entry such as factory presence, canteen usage, golf courses, monthly card leisure centers, etc; anti-static control locations of electronic factories, units that need strict security procedures such as face acknowledgment and finger print recognition. RS Security Co., Ltd primarily produces, develops and sells gain access to control items, such as waist height turnstile gate, train flap turnstiles barirer, dc brushless swing gates gate, translation turnstile barirer, optical turnstiles barirer, full body turnstile barirer, half height turnstile gate, speed turnstiles door and other channel gates gate products, and boom barrier, acknowledgment electronic camera, hydraulic bollard, road bocker tripod gates barirer Integrated electronic tickets, gain access to control and attendance, club consumption/catering, anti-static, fingerprint, palm print, face acknowledgment, iris recognition Integrated application of other series of products; complete stainless steel frame structure, Taibang motor, separately developed and produced motion; one-way/two-way gates barirer/ swipe to release the lever button and the upper lever is optional, with Counting function can recognize RS485 direct interaction with the computer; waist height turnstiles gate triggers and direction and alarm prompts; automated fall of the pole when power is off and manual fall The pole is optional, and it receives the switch signal to open gates barirer; it can be equipped with a card reading control part, and multiple systems can be linked to the network; it can be equipped with magnetic card and distance card combination approaches; it can be purchased according to different functional requirements. Do. A totally rainproof box made from alloy aluminum or stainless-steel, compared to the subway flap turnstile gate servo motor swing turnstile Door and other pedestrian passage devices, three rollers turnstiles gate are more cost-efficient. It has a customized setup interface (such as card reader, indicator light setup, and so on) to ensure that the system integrator's control gates gate devices is simple and practical to set up. The movement of the three-stick turnstile gate machine has an automatically changed hydraulic shock absorber. When utilizing the three-stick gates gate operation, the noise is extremely little and quiet. Impact, turnstiles barirer bar instantly decreases back to center. The surface of the movement is plated with yellow dichromate. Can be configured with turnstiles barirer machine control, a couple of direction control (set by user). The base is repaired with expansion bolts.

[partiallysanitized8]

"Yo. Thought I was the only one here but I guess not...do you mind if I take parts from the old turnstiles that are broken in the entrance? I salvage parts and metal for a living when I'm not doing ink battles...*noticing that 8 seems lonely* before I go do you wanna talk a bit? I'm free all day today so..."

-Lilly the pajama striped inkling

Oh thanks, I've been meaning to try and get those removed. Damn council "can't find room in the budget" to officially hire a removal crew. Hopefully this will help them find said money.

And yeah, the Metro does get pretty lonely. Ironic considering I'm surrounded by passengers. Marina, Pearl, and Agents 3/4 do come from time to time, but for the most part, it's just me.

[jpitha]

The Dreams of Hyacinth

Next

Nicholas North ran down the alley, diving over refuse bins and rolling under fences. He could hear the shouts of the CorpCops in pursuit. As he rounded a corner and burst out from the covered alley into a crowded street, Nick noticed it was raining. He hoped the rain would help conceal him from the CorpCops chasing him. He ducked his head down and tried to blend in with the crowd of commuters heading home.

The first time Nick stepped foot onto Hyacinth, he was surprised at the weather. The Orbital was so large that in the huge volume of air high above him there was room for the water cycle to continue. There would be clouds and then rain and then the sun of Sol would shine through the gaps in the arms, warming everyone, and the cycle would begin anew. Now though, the regular rainy days dragged him down. He was in space, on an Orbital high above the Graveyard of the Billionaires. It shouldn't be raining.

Like the locals, Nick called Mars the Graveyard of the Billionaires. Long in the past, some people with more wealth than sense back on Earth attempted to colonize the surface of Mars and remake it into a capitalist paradise.

If failed.

Tens of thousands of people died in the attempt, and in the end the billionaires were murdered in their half completed colony domes as well. These days, nobody even remembers which billionaires it was. Just that they were stupid, killed thousands, and died for it.

Nick dared to glance back into the crowds as he approached the metro. He could see the white and blue uniforms of the CorpCops looking around, their drones hovering two heads taller than they were, scanning people. They were too far back to notice him though; it looks like Nick got away this time. Selkirk would be pleased.

Nick walked with the crowd as they entered the metro station and the thronged mass of people flowed like water down the stairs and escalator to the platform. As Nick reached the turnstyle, he palmed a little handmade device and touched it to the reader. With a satisfied beep, the turnstile opened and admitted him. He didn't know whose account he was using; it cycled through tens of thousands of purloined accounts. If it was a different, random one every time the chances of getting discovered was that much lower.

Nick didn't use the emulator much anyway. He preferred to walk above ground, but sometimes you did what you had to do. Hyacinth was too large to walk from end to end unless you were out to do it just for the sake of doing it.

High Mars Orbital Hyacinth was old.

Built before humans mastered gravity, before they mastered wormhole travel, even before they launched their mighty colony ships and settled other worlds, Hyacinth was an antique. Made in the style of an O'Neil Cylinder, It was 96.5 kilometers long and 32.1 kilometers wide. The numbers weren't nice and round because Hyacinth was so old it was built using the Old Measures. Sixy Miles by Twenty Miles.

Rotating slowly to use centripetal force to borrow a feeling like gravity, Hyacinth had six arms that soared away from the "bottom." Three were habitation and three were mirrored to help reflect the sun into the Orbital and give a kind of day-night cycle. The Habitation arms kept parallel to themselves, and the mirrored arms would swing wider and narrower to direct sunlight into the Orbital. Originally powered by solar collectors and old-style fission reactors, these days Hyacinth used the same type of reactors as the Starjumpers and Colony ships, just a larger version of them.

Just to make sure, Nick rode two stops past his usual stop and got off with everyone. It was a major hub station at the 'bottom' of the arm and one or the first ones people would see when they disembarked from their ships, so it was full of people not familiar with the area, walking slowly trying to make sense of the labyrinthine metro system. That combined with the commuters in a hurry to go home, Nick was able to disappear and make his way to the surface.

Touching his emulator with the purloined identity to the exit turnstile - making sure it was the same user he used for in and out - Nick exited the metro station and looked around. Congregation Square, at the very bottom of Hyacinth. If Nick turned around, behind him would be the base the arms connected to, which houses the docking rings for ships as well as most of the large scale mechanicals for the orbital. Reactors, water and air purifiers, things like that. At the base of the arms, under full gravity, was the administration buildings and embassies, and then Congregation Square itself.

The rain had tapered off by the time Nick made it to Congregation Square and now everything was hot and moist. Doing his best to walk purposefully without looking like he was escaping something he made his way across the square to a coffee stand sitting on the edge of the square.

"Nick! What the hell are you doing down here? I only ever see you in Laurel. What are you doing in civilization?" Laughing, the coffee vendor was doing his best to express surprise at seeing Nick, but also enough familiarity with him so that he would be recognized as one of his regulars - enough to tip generously at the flattery ideally.

Nick looked around, and then at the coffee vendor. He was an old human, with dark skin and a shock of curly white hair on the top of his head. "Hey, Ambrose. Is this where I can find you when you're not in Laurel Square?"

Ambrose nodded, his hair bobbing gently. "On Mondays and Fridays yes. Tuesday and Thursday I'm in Laurel, Wednesday is my day off, and I spend the weekend in Gladiolus."

Nick smiled. "Well then, it must be kismet that we met. Let's do something special. How about a Flat White?"

"Sure thing Nick, what's your dairy today? The usual soy?"

Nick shook his head. "Nah, something special today. To commemorate a... success. Let's go with cow."

As he bustled to get the espresso ready Ambrose stopped. "You sure Nick? Real mammal dairy costs."

Nick waved his hand dismissively. "I said I'm celebrating, didn't I? Cow milk Ambrose. You know it's the only one for the best microfoam in a flat white." Nick placed two paper bills and a small plastic chit on the counter. Cash for Ambrose, the chit for the coffee.

Almost faster than they eye could follow, the money disappeared behind the counter. As Ambrose worked and the pressure built for the espresso, a group of 5 tiny steam whistles sang like a tiny calliope. Everyone who knew Ambrose's coffee cart knew the song.

Ambrose pulled the shot and then quickly blasted boiling steam through the real milk. The sound and scent of the milk was familiar and nostalgic to Nick. Beef is a vital export of Parvati, so when Nick was young he was never far from bovines, and cow's milk really is his favorite in Coffee. The price on Hyacinth normally stops him from getting it regularly, but Nick really wanted to have his flat white just the way he liked it.

Ambrose slid over the coffee in a paper cup and the chit with it. The cash was long gone.

"Thanks Ambrose, I'll see you next week."

"Take care of yourself Nick. I'll keep the cow milk open another 5 days. You can have another drink at a discount so I don't waste it."

Nick raised the coffee in salute and turned away and walked across the square. He took a careful sip. It was almost just like how he remembered it from his childhood on the colony. The coffee grown on Parvati had a different terroir as the Terran coffee, but it was as close as he was going to get unless he spent six months rent on importing some Parvati Gold.

As Nick walked along sipping his coffee and staying off the main roads, his phone buzzed, and his headset projected the caller ID onto his eyeballs. It was Selkirk.

"Hey Sel, what's up?"

Sel had video turned on, so in Nick's upper left of his vision he saw a small image of his K'laxi friend. She had grey white fur and her right ear had a large notch out of it. Below her notched ear is an artificial eye surrounded by a deep, old scar. "Don't give me that false confidence, Nick! You were supposed to check in an hour ago and now I see you walking up from the base with a coffee?"

"Sel, Sel, everything is fine. Better than fine really. Shiny and Chrome. I ran into some CorpCops and had to lose them in the Metro. I rode down to Congregation and found that's where Ambrose goes when he's not in Laurel. Got a coffee to celebrate and I'm making my way back now. No stress Selkirk, no stress."

"Yes stress Nicholas, yes." Sel flicked her ears with irritation. Or was it worry? "Did you get it?"

Nick nodded and took another sip of coffee. "Course I did."

It was in his coat pocket, and the feeling of it was much heavier than its actual mass.

"Get back up here then Nick, We gotta hand it over to Eastern before we get paid. You know how she gets when we're late."

He winced when he mentioned Eastern. He did know exactly how she gets when they're late. "I'm headed back up now Sel, I'll be there in an hour. I don't want to draw attention to myself by hustling, and I want to stay out of the Metro."

The moment he stopped speaking, Eastern's voice could be heard. "I hear your delaying tactics, Nicholas North and they aren't going to work on me. I'm running a timer and for every second over one hour you are getting deducted an additional 1%."

Selkirk just looked at Nick through the call. Her ears flicked again.

"Ancestors Sel, I wish you told me I was on speaker. Hi Eastern, what's up?"

"Your ass, unless you hustle Nick."

"Pleasant as always Eastern. I'll see you soon." Nick disconnected the call.

Nick finished his flat white and tossed the cup into the trash. If he kept on the meandering path he was taking now, his phone said it would take him seventy five minutes to get back to Selkirk. If he moved back to the main street, he could cut it down almost in half to fourty five. Even shorter if he took the omnibus.

"Ugh, fine." Nick turned left and walked over to the main street. As he approached, an electric omnibus clattered and buzzed towards him, the overhead panograph giving off an ozone smell. Cycling another identity with his emulator, he palmed it onto the reader and the doors opened. Stepping aboard, he smelled the hot electric motor, the rubber tires and the masses of people aboard. The electric omibus was much cheaper than the Metro though it was a good deal slower. That suited Nick much better than the expensive and much better guarded Metro.

Nick stood in the middle of the omnibus, hooking his elbow around a pole while he read the news projected onto his eye from his pad. Nick's world was decidedly small in the grand scheme of things, but he still liked to hear about what was going on elsewhere. The Provisional Venusian government looks like they were voting to drop provisional from their title later this year. After their emperor was ousted... and then the next Empress was ousted, Venus decided that maybe having royalty run them wasn't really something they wanted to do anymore. Nick had no skin in their game, but he wished them luck. He wasn't in Sol when that whole business with Empress Melody happened a decade back or so, but he asked some old timers about it once when he was curious and anyone that actually had an opinion had figured she was nice enough and that the AI faction was too harsh.

Before too long, Nick reached his stop, just outside of Laurel Square. He pressed on the tape that ran along the top of the omnibus to signal a stop, and as the vehicle rattled and clattered to a stop be pressed his palmed emulator to the reader and the back door hissed open.

Stepping out into the moist and misty evening, Nick started down the alley towards the meeting place.

Next

[workingclasshistory]

On this day, 18 October 2019, a series of large-scale protests known as Estallido Social (social outburst) began in Chile, one of the biggest uprisings in the country's history that lasted until March 2020. While citizen demands focused on social inequality and the ravages of decades of neoliberal policies, the unrest began in the wake of a fare hike on the Santiago Metro on 6 October, after which hundreds of high school students jumped the turnstiles at various stations, calling for fare evasion. After days of clashes between students and police, on 18 October, the right-wing government of Sebastián Piñera announced charges under the state security law, which carries harsh sentences. In response, thousands of people took to the streets, also demanding various improvements to living conditions and an end to abuses by the political and business class. Barricades were built, and acts of arson and looting took place. The next day, the protests spread to all regions of Chile. State repression was extremely violent and included torture, sexual violence, mutilations and extrajudicial executions, as reports on human rights violations issued by various international organisations found. The actions of the police resulted in 34 deaths, more than 8000 injuries and more than 400 cases of eye mutilation, including Gustavo Gatica and passer-by Fabiola Campillay, who both lost their eyes after direct attacks to the face. To date, only 0.1% of these complaints have resulted in convictions. After months of revolt, the demonstrations subsided following an agreement by politicians to organise a referendum on a new constitution, and the outbreak of the Covid-19 pandemic. In 2020, a plebiscite determined that the vast majority of the country wanted the abolition of the constitution from the dictatorship era. At the time of writing (October 2022), the formulation of a new constitution is still ongoing. https://www.facebook.com/workingclasshistory/photos/a.1819457841572691/2112887952229677/?type=3

[aurinkos-toybox]

subway

dolls aren't allowed to control or manipulate any "thing" larger than themselves.

our doll took trains often. a city as big as this one, many errands forced it to spend time navigating the labyrinth of transportation maps afforded to it. after a while, the most common errands became second nature, as did the metro rides that facilitated them: down the stairs, swipe at the turnstile, wait at the platform, board, wait, de-board, exit at the turnstile, up the stairs, and onward.

spending time on the train was a gentle respite for our doll. it saw a world, vast and colorful, it wished to explore someday. strange buildings and rolling hills, signs pointing to a million different lives possible for the city's other inhabitants. an urge to jump out wherever she pleased to explore, even for a few minutes or an hour if it felt brave, had to be latently suppressed each trip.

it's stop had arrived. out of the metro car, down the stairs our doll went - crisscrossing other travelers on their way out of the platform. this was one of it's usual trips - an errand to obtain a new chess set, a pair of French candles, a half-dozen package of tinned fish, a luxury notebook with a proprietary typeface - to a familiar vendor. the shop's owner recognized the doll, sometimes slipping a thank-you note alongside homemade chocolate samples after ringing up it's shopping list.

the bag was heavy on the doll. before stepping back towards the platform, it hesitated: the weather was unusually sunny, gentle rays of light shining down on a park designed alongside the multi-story row of shops that felt like a third or fourth home to our doll. and so it spent a few minutes sitting down on the grassy knoll, enjoying the chocolate and stuffing the shopkeeper's note into it's blouse pocket. a row of orange colored bikes stood in a rack at the park's entrance, free to use with a deposit refunded when the bike was returned from use. it sighed, gazing out further into the horizon to acres of park yet to be explored.

dolls aren't allowed to control or manipulate any "thing" larger than themselves.