#roll pitch yaw

[cherryblossomshadow]

[Image 1 ID and source: Tweet from such nerve! (@/suchnerve) reading:

autistic people will "roll our eyes" like 🔄* instead of ↕️* because we interpreted the phrase literally

(*OP used the counterclockwise arrows button emoji and the up-down arrow emoji respectively) /end ID]

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[Image 2 ID: screenshot of tumblr tags from @a-sour-nectarine reading:

#WHAT #WHAT DO YOU MEAN

/end ID]

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[Image 3 ID: black text on a white background reading:

There really is no suitable reaction image for this and I have a fuckhuge reaction image folder.

/end ID]

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[Image 4 ID: a diagram of a red and blue plane headed toward us and to the left. There are three different axes extending from the plane

The axis extending out the nose of the plane is called the roll axis. This is when the plane front and plane back stay in the same position, but the left wing tilts up while the right wing tilts down (or vice versa)

The axis extending out the side of the plane is called the pitch axis. This is when the wings stay in the same approximate location, but the nose of the plane flips up while the tail dips down (or vice versa)

The axis extending down from the bottom of the plane is called the yaw axis. This is when the nose of the plane swings laterally toward either the left or right wing, keeping the plane level. Imagine skewering the plane through the center while it is upright and then spinning it around. There yaw go

/end ID]

[zhingmain]

hyperfixations are so stupid one moment you are deathly afraid of traveling by plane next thing you know you are learning 20th century geopolitics by way of airplane crashes

[sallytwo]

was zoning out the entire navigation lecture and then the capt pulled up an admiralty current chart and i was like oh. you guys are doing the thing again. where you act like nautical navigation is sooo much different from aerospace navigation. and then you pull up a current chart. that is literally identical to a pilotage wind chart. why do you keep trying to trick me.

[davecline]

Bumblebot: rollin' along

How to make a spherical robot, with three degrees of freedom, tumble in a straight line due to center of gravity displacement? To continue are State Machine discussion… GOAL: Goal objective exists? (Move!) NAV: Navigation objective exists? (Forward!) SYS: System objective exists and is amenable to bot movement? (Plenty of battery!) OO: Orientation objective exists? Current OO? Roll X:Forward 1…

[legendary-pink-dot]

Airport Pickup

Pairing: Francisco "Catfish" Morales x female reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Unprotected PiV, fingering, semi-public sex, established relationship, light dirty talk because I like to think Frankie is a Sex Talker, Tom has a cousin and he's an asshole too

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: Frankie hates airports when he isn't there to fly or work. The crowds, the noise, endless passengers complaining to airport employees who were just trying to do their jobs and get through the day. But he’s sitting there waiting today for you.

Notes: No use of "Y/N". No mention of Frankie's child. Frankie starts off grumpy but gets a happy ending. Thank you @goodwithcheese for the prompt and prodding, and to my magic slut coven for cheerleading @arcanefox207 @magpiepills 💜

Fuck. Frankie hates airports when he isn't there to fly or work. The crowds, the noise, endless passengers complaining to airport employees who were just trying to do their jobs and get through the day. But he’s sitting there waiting today for you, through a lengthy delay of your flight arrival and then another one.

Six weeks was a long time to be apart. Way too long. It didn't help that you'd been halfway across the globe -- the time zones and your respective work schedules had made it almost impossible to stay in touch other than a couple quick calls and some texts. He missed your conversations, the shared dinners after work, the drawn-out nights of sex. Right now, especially the sex.

Frankie frowns as your text comes in: Just landed. Delayed b/c crew was late. Pilot is Cpt Davis 🙄

Captain Davis -- fuck. Tom's idiot cousin Chad. Frankie hated him. Not only was Chad an asshole, but a shitty pilot too. Frankie had had the misfortune of flying commercial on one of Chad's flights and knew within two minutes that the minor pitch, yaw and roll corrections -- or lack thereof, in this case -- during the particularly turbulent takeoff were an indication that this pilot didn't give a shit about his passengers. Sure, a captain's primary job is to get people safely to their destination, but what happened to having pride in your work? Fucking jerk.

Frankie shakes his head in disgust as he heads to the coffee shop for your favorite order, stopping at a convenience kiosk on the way to pick up an extra pack of Dramamine for you. Just in case.

~~ * ~~

You stare dumbly at ten identical black suitcases endlessly rounding the baggage carousel as people push past you. Why is baggage claim always a shitshow? You were exhausted from 18 hours of travelling and jetlag, and the turbulence during the flight had stirred up your motion sickness so badly that you’d run out of Dramamine. Bed sounded good right now. Just your cozy bed, 10 hours of sleep, and Frankie waking you up with kisses and hot licks of his tongue. Is that too much to ask for?

Frankie had texted to say he was in the waiting area, and you were so eager to see him. Six weeks was way too long to be apart, and everything ached to be reunited -- your heart, your fingers, your cunt. Anticipation had gotten too much on the last leg of your flight and you'd even tried getting yourself off in the tiny airplane bathroom, but no luck. It just wasn't happening and you'd given up in frustration, ending with no orgasm and also a nice bruise from banging your elbow against the sink.

Finally, your neon blue bag (chosen specifically to be unique and bright so you didn't have to think at times like these) comes into sight. You haul it off the carousel and head straight for the exit.

Frustration melts away as you spot Frankie waving, making his way through the waiting crowd. He's wearing a green sweater, the one he only puts on for special occasions as his version of "dressing up". It would be an awful color on most people but it perfectly brought out the golden tone of his skin, the richness of his brown eyes, the chocolate of his curls peeking out under his navy blue cap. It makes your heart skip a beat that he still makes an effort to look good for you.

"Come here." He envelops you in a bear hug and you bury your face into his neck, inhaling the smell of fresh coffee, his leather jacket, his freshly washed hair curling out under his cap. The scent of Frankie. You drink your fill of it, of him, cinching your arms around his broad back and letting your body sigh and melt into his. "I missed you so much."

~~ * ~~

Dim lighting in the parking garage makes it feel even colder despite the long welcoming hug, the hot coffee you’d downed in the elevator, the extra Dramamine, even the pre-warmed comfort of Frankie's leather jacket. You hadn't missed how his eyes had travelled up your bare legs as you put the jacket on, taking in and appreciating the sight of you. He did love when you wore sundresses. Which is why you had changed into one before getting off the plane.

Tucked into a dark corner space is his truck, looking lonely with few other vehicles around. Frankie tosses your suitcase into the bed of the truck and immediately pushes you up against the passenger door to kiss you hungrily, his hands firm on the back of your neck and around your waist to press you closer to him, giving you a proper welcome home. His mouth is warm and inviting, and you slip your tongue inside it to generate and seek out more heat.

"Tired?" he checks in after a couple minutes, breaking the kiss to rest his forehead against yours. "How's your motion sickness?"

"The Dramamine's kicking in now." You shiver involuntarily in your thin dress. "I'm cold though."

"A sundress, in this temperature? Didn't you check the weather here before your flight took off?"

"But I wore it just for you, Francisco," you whisper, nipping at his mouth. "I know it turns you on."

Frankie groans as he slides his hand along your bare thigh, a featherlight touch against the chill-textured flesh. "You're too good to me. Let me warm you up, cariño. Get in the back seat."

Last time you'd been in the back of his truck, you had been splayed across the bench seat, hands tied by and gripping the seatbelts on both sides as he ate you out, coaxing two strong and heady orgasms out of your body as the sun rose over the beach you had parked at. A good memory, one you had recalled several times during the long lonely nights in your hotel room on this trip.

He opens the door, and you eagerly climb in.

Frankie slides onto the seat, closing the door with a firm but quiet click. You climb into his lap and straddle his thighs, letting him pull you close again, his hands roving under the jacket and rubbing your back while yours snake underneath his sweater to borrow heat from his chest. The curve of his neck and shoulder is warm and you gratefully nuzzle your face into it, inhaling his scent again to imprint it in your memory, so happy to be back.

"Mmmm. Really missed you," you breathe into his skin, the cold tip of your nose rubbing circles over his throat and poking under the neck of his sweater to tease his collarbone. "Missed this."

"Me too. So much," he croons, sliding a hand through your long hair. He adjusts the angle of your head just perfectly to kiss you again, gentle at first and with increasing hunger until your tongue traces his plush lower lip, dipping in to slide in and out of its cleft, and he moans into your mouth.

"Fuck. Do that again."

You continue teasing his mouth with the tip of your tongue as his hands descend to grip your ass and grind his hardening cock against your core, rough denim snagging on thin cotton and lace. You're toasty warm now and you shed his leather jacket, also taking his hat off so you can weave your fingers through the curls in his hair, pulling gently as you rock against him, feeling his heat transfer to your center, the tip of his length in his jeans making contact with just the right spot to make you moan as you rut against him.

Frankie takes advantage of your open mouth and slides a finger in. "Suck. Get it wet for me." You comply and swirl your tongue around his finger, licking and sucking and slurping as if it were his cock, savoring the anticipation of knowing it would soon be inside you.

"Good girl." His finger drips with your saliva and he slides it through your folds, his other hand pulling the crotch of your lace panties aside and holding it there. Letting the cold air kiss your heated flesh. "Hmmm. So wet for me already though, aren't you? So hot," he rasps against your throat, feeling the vibration from the sound that travels up and out of it as he slides a second thick finger into your pussy. You clench around their sweet pressure, his fingers always able to reach places inside you that your own can't.

Within seconds you're shamelessly fucking his fingers, rocking back and forth and building more and more heat in your core, his thumb doing a better job against your clit than your own had in the airplane bathroom, when a bright light flashes through the windshield. Frankie grabs you and pulls you down to lie on the seat, covering your body with his as if shielding you from gunfire. Years retired from Delta Force but his combat instincts never fade, apparently.

"What's happening?"

"Security guard on patrol. I know most of them here and don't need 'em catching me fucking in my truck like a teenager," he whispers into your ear as the flashlight glare fades away. "I'd never hear the end of it."

You stare into his eyes, his face hovering just an inch from yours, those brown eyes you love so much looking darker than ever in the dim fluorescent filtering through the truck. You kiss him with hunger and want. "I need you inside me. Please. Can't wait until we get home."

"I got you, cariño. I'm gonna fuck you good. Get up and turn around."

He hauls you back up and turns you to face the front of the truck this time, straddling his thighs again, and you plant your feet on the floor as he pushes you forward, unzipping his jeans and pulling them down just enough to free his cock, hard and leaking precum, eager to sink home into you. His hands roam up the front of your dress and gently squeeze your tits. You feel the prickle of his mustache caressing the back of your neck as he presses kisses there, and you shiver from pleasure this time, not the cold.

"Patrol will be back soon. You're gonna be the lookout while I take care of you, okay?"

You hook your fingers around your panties and slide them all the way off.

"Fuck yes, Frankie. Show me how much you missed me."

Frankie groans and grabs your hips, lifting up the hem of your sundress, and you grab the back of the front seats for leverage and control as he slowly guides the thick tip of his cock through your folds and into the first few inches of your entrance, setting on fire every nerve ending along the way. It's a stretch, always a stretch with Frankie, but especially in this position, your thighs spread wide across his lap and toes just barely brushing the floor. Your back arches against his chest as he slides the rest of the way in, all the way to the hilt, your moan mixing with his grunted sigh to echo through the small enclosed space of the truck.

"You like that?" He gives an experimental thrust and you cry out, for another, for more. "Did you miss my cock?"

"Yes," you whimper, your voice shaking but not hesitant. "So much. Give it to me."

The leather of the seats in front of you is smooth on your fingers as you bend further forward, changing the angle, inviting him to fuck you in earnest and he does, his practiced hand finding your clit without you needing to ask. Frankie always wants to give you the world if he could.

You forget the security guards, the time on the clock until they come back, not caring and soon no longer cognizant of whether time is passing normally or whether you've been suspended in it. The only thing in your orbit is the feeling of Frankie's cock travelling deep into your heat and discovering every sensitive spot inside as if it was the first time he's explored it. Fire and tension build in your core as his fingers dig into your hip to hold you in place, his thumb working your clit in tandem with his thrusts, the rough texture adding an extra sensation that you've never managed to replicate alone.

"Fuck." Half a whimper and half a plea, and Frankie answers it with a loud groan. Your fingers grip the seats so tight that you create marks in the leather. "More, Frankie, please, don't stop. "

"So fucking tight for me, cariño." Frankie sounds utterly wrecked behind you, voice rich and full, his free hand snaking up to clutch the back of your neck, holding you at the perfect angle for him to drive in and out relentlessly, deep and hard the way he knows you crave. "So sweet. Always so good to me when you come home."

Sounds reverberate off the windows: heavy breaths, flesh against flesh, your moans, Frankie's grunts and whimpers as his rhythm inside you starts to falter, both of you close.

A final few strokes of his fingers across your clit and the tight coil inside you snaps, his other hand slapping over your mouth just in time to contain your sounds as you cry out, feeling his cock twitch and pulse as he comes hard, spurting hot inside you. He buries his face in your hair to muffle his own loud groan and it vibrates loud across your scalp and down your spine as you grind your ass into his lap a few more times to draw out the pleasure for both of you, your walls fluttering around his softening cock, until the sensitivity becomes too much.

Collapsing back against his chest is all you can manage and his arms encircle you, holding you close and breathing heavy into your hair. You feel his heartbeat as it winds down, slowing its thumping against your back through the thin cotton of your sundress. Your surroundings take shape as you come down from your high: Frankie has got you. You're home again.

A sudden flash of light through the windshield blinds you both. "Morales? Hey man, I thought that was you! Have fun with your girl, see ya at the bar Friday night!"

You both groan. It wasn't even a security guard -- it was Chad Davis and his frat-boy smirk.

"Fuck me," Frankie sighs in disgust. "I hate airports."

[greatwyrmgold]

Wow. Lots of roll fans out there.

*reachable by making an even number of 90 degree rotations

[monkeyssalad-blog]

X-15 Launch from B-52 Mothership by NASA on The Commons Via Flickr: This photo illustrates how the X-15 rocket-powered aircraft was taken aloft under the wing of a B-52. Because of the large fuel consumption, the X-15 was air launched from a B-52 aircraft at 45,000 ft and a speed of about 500 mph. This was one of the early powered flights using a pair of XLR-11 engines (until the XLR-99 became available). The X-15 was a rocket-powered aircraft 50 ft long with a wingspan of 22 ft. It was a missile-shaped vehicle with an unusual wedge-shaped vertical tail, thin stubby wings, and unique fairings that extended along the side of the fuselage. The X-15 weighed about 14,000 lb empty and approximately 34,000 lb at launch. The XLR-99 rocket engine, manufactured by Thiokol Chemical Corp., was pilot controlled and was capable of developing 57,000 lb of rated thrust (actual thrust reportedly climbed to 60,000 lb). North American Aviation built three X-15 aircraft for the program. The X-15 research aircraft was developed to provide in-flight information and data on aerodynamics, structures, flight controls, and the physiological aspects of high-speed, high-altitude flight. A follow-on program used the aircraft as a testbed to carry various scientific experiments beyond the Earth's atmosphere on a repeated basis. For flight in the dense air of the usable atmosphere, the X-15 used conventional aerodynamic controls such as rudder surfaces on the vertical stabilizers to control yaw and canted horizontal surfaces on the tail to control pitch when moving in synchronization or roll when moved differentially. For flight in the thin air outside of the appreciable Earth's atmosphere, the X-15 used a reaction control system. Hydrogen peroxide thrust rockets located on the nose of the aircraft provided pitch and yaw control. Those on the wings provided roll control. Because of the large fuel consumption, the X-15 was air launched from a B-52 aircraft at 45,000 ft and a speed of about 500 mph. Depending on the mission, the rocket engine provided thrust for the first 80 to 120 sec of flight. The remainder of the normal 10 to 11 min. flight was powerless and ended with a 200-mph glide landing. Generally, one of two types of X-15 flight profiles was used: a high-altitude flight plan that called for the pilot to maintain a steep rate of climb, or a speed profile that called for the pilot to push over and maintain a level altitude. The X-15 was flown over a period of nearly 10 years--June 1959 to Oct. 1968--and set the world's unofficial speed and altitude records of 4,520 mph (Mach 6.7) and 354,200 ft (over 67 mi) in a program to investigate all aspects of piloted hypersonic flight. Information gained from the highly successful X-15 program contributed to the development of the Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo manned spaceflight programs, and also the Space Shuttle program. The X-15s made a total of 199 flights and were manufactured by North American Aviation. X-15-1, serial number 56-6670, is now located at the National Air and Space Museum, Washington DC. NASA Media Usage Guidelines Credit: NASA Image Number: E-4942 Date: 1959

[ips-northstar-official]

Atmospheric Re-entry Lancaster Pilot here,

Sorry it took a bit to get back to you, but I can confirm a Lancaster can survive re-entry. It took a lot of work to prevent the reactor from overheating, and controlling pitch, roll, and yaw was next to impossible, but the insulation kept the mech mostly safe from the fire it was engulfed in.

The landing I think was the worst for mech. I only had an EVA installed so the landing was hard, the Lancaster took some serious structural damage, but nothing that couldn't be fixed up in a jiffy.

I must say that I am glad I chose a Lancaster today.

We’re so glad the re-entry went well!

If you wouldn’t mind, could you send us the part of your blackbox recordings during which you made atmospheric re-entry? We’d like to use the data you collected to design systems and system improvements to ensure other Lancers piloting IPS-N frames have the same or better protection as you.

In exchange, we’d like to send you a “I Survived Atmospheric Re-Entry in an IPS-N Lancaster and All I Got Was This Stupid T-Shirt” shirt! Please include your shirt size or approximate dimensions along with the ROM data.

[moose-mousse]

It works!*

So I (FINALLY) put the final touches on the software for my robot PROTO! (Listen, I am a software person, not a coming-up-with-names person)

Basically, it is a ESP32 running him. He takes HTTP messages. Either GET odometry, or PUT twist. Both just being a string containing comma separated numbers

Odometry is the robots best guess based on internal sensors where it is (Since PROTO uses stepper motors, which rotates in tiny tiny steps... it is basically counting the steps each motor takes)

Twist is speed, both in x,y and z directions, and speed in angular directions (pitch, roll and yaw). This is used to tell the robot how to move

Now, since PROTO is a robot on two wheels, with a third free-running ball ahead of him, he cannot slide to the side, or go straight up in the air. You can TRY telling him to do that, but he will not understand what you mean. Same with angular movement. PROTO can turn left or right, but he have no clue what you mean if you tell him to bend forward, or roll over.

The software is layered (Which I use a BDD diagram to plan. I love diagrams!)

Basically PROTO gets a twist command and hands that over to the Differential_Movement_Model layer.

The Differential_Movement_Model layer translate that to linear momentum (how much to move forward and backwards) and angular momentum (how much to turn left or right). combines them, and orders each wheel to move so and so fast via the Stepper_Motors layer.

The Stepper_Motors turns the wanted speed, into how many steps each stepper motor will have to do per second, and makes sure that the wanted speed can be achieved by the motors. It also makes sure that the wheels turn the right way, no matter how they are mounted (In PROTO's case, if both wheels turn clockwise, the right wheel is going forward, and the left backwards.). It then sends this steps per second request down to the Peripheral_Hub layer.

The Peripheral_Hub layer is just a hub... as the name implies, it calls the needed driver functions to turn off/on pins, have timers count steps and run a PWM (Pulse-width modulation. It sends pulses of a particular size at a specific frequency) signal to the driver boards.

Layering it, also means it is a lot easer to test a layer. Basically, if I want to test, I change 1 variable in the build files and a mock layer is build underneath whatever layer I want to test.

So if I want to test the Stepper_Motors layer, I have a mock Peripheral_Hub layer, so if there are errors in the Peripheral_Hub layer, these do not show up when I am testing the stepper motor layer.

The HTTP server part is basically a standard ESP32 example server, where I have removed all the HTTP call handlers, and made my own 2 instead. Done done.

So since the software works... of course I am immediately having hardware problems. The stepper motors are not NEARLY as strong as they need to be... have to figure something out... maybe they are not getting the power they need... or I need smaller wheels... or I will have to buy a gearbox to make them slower but stronger... in which case I should proberbly also fix the freaking cannot-change-the-micro-stepping problem with the driver boards, since otherwise PROTO will go from a max speed of 0.3 meters per second, to most likely 0.06 meters per second which... is... a bit slow...

But software works! And PROTO can happily move his wheels and pretend he is driving somewhere when on his maintenance stand (Yes. it LOOKS like 2 empty cardboard boxes, but I am telling you it is a maintenance stand... since it sounds a lot better :p )

I have gone over everything really quickly in this post... if someone wants me to cover a part of PROTO, just comment which one, and I will most likely do it (I have lost all sense of which parts of this project is interesting to people who are not doing the project)

[leohtttbriar]

a sequence of flying and piloting and manually working the engines and calling out yaw and pitch and roll while the brass is playing and the ship is slowly moving---like that scene in titanic when the ship pulls away and the engines are increased to full power and you see the pistons speeding up and all the people yelling and shovelling and ringing bells---or like that scene in apollo 13 when mission control is getting ready and the movie's main theme finally starts playing in full and the camera "pans" over the entire rocket and---i'm just saying this whole sequence captures so much of mostly implied spirit of adventure in this series.

like they didn't have to make this scene what it was. or maybe they did. with jadzia at the helm, piloting the ship, the character most associated with fun and adventure, a stand in for sally-ride-in-a-space-suit-"the stars don't look bigger [in space], but they do look brighter"-astronaut, flying the spaceship, it just screams "we're in space!" "we're flying a space ship in space because we're space explorers in space!" even while the plot isn't explicitly about that. but also the episode is called "for the uniform," because sisko is largely insulted by eddington's betrayal of starfleet and they had to show what exactly it was that eddington was insulting, even just for one thrilling moment.

[andmaybegayer]

star wars squadrons feels extremely weird because it's not a flight simulator, it's a star wars starfighter simulator, which means it makes perfect sense to put yaw and pitch together instead of roll and pitch, because these are vehicles that don't need to roll to turn.

I keep on trying to do Ace Combat manouvers. Ace Combat manouvers do not work when you could just yaw on 'em.

The main gimmick is the power management system, where you can divert power to weapons/drive/shields, which also eats up a ton of control space.

I am interested to see how the VR handles but I have other things to do. It's very very visually busy, and I'm taking on the additional challenge of flying instruments-only for now. Might change that.

[lonestarflight]

"AS-500-D configuration I testing ended with a special test to verify the flight control system. The test program included roll, pitch, yaw and longitudinal testing, completed earlier in 1967. AS-500D was a dynamic test article of the Saturn V space vehicle. Seen here on June 20, 1967, the Apollo spacecraft leaves the Manned Spacecraft Operations Building at NASA’s Kennedy Space Center on its way to the Vehicle Assembly Building where it will be mated with the Saturn launch vehicle. The Saturn V was designed at NASA's Marshall Space Flight Center."

Date: March 11, 1967

NASA Marshall Space Flight Center/Flickr: link

[giriduck]

Because boats float, even very large ships can have a movement to them, and an ever-changing (often very subtle) angle of the deck. Like an aircraft, roll, pitch, and yaw exist. In some conditions (like ocean crossing, where 15 ft swells are typically the norm outside of the Doldrums), one grows accustomed to a surfing motion, both above and below deck. Sailing downwind can cause ships to roll side to side a bit. Sailing upwind, a ship heels over to one side. In ocean crossing, a single tack can last a couple of weeks.

With all of this motion, one instinctively learns how to stow things. Don’t stack things, tie things down, set brakes on wheels, etc.

But when a ship is hauled out of the water onto land (less so with dry docks), it’s like solid ground on the ship. The lack of motion is eerie—things can be safely stacked, etc.

Also, because the weight of the ship is resting on her keel, door frames will shift a bit, and doors will not close, drawers will not close, etc. It’s weird.

All this is to say that WW Ganondorf lived in a section of old boat that was effectively hauled out into an enormous old tree, but probably didn’t notice nor care how weird that would feel to a person to spends a lot of time on boats in water (and Tetra didn’t have enough time to notice). 😂

[no-manpress]

Foil - Yaw Pitch Roll - https://rodgerbinyone.bigcartel.com/