#sci-fi river

[zarag0]

AFF

[kaliarda]

[vanillaflowerstuff]

enjoyed the book 💫

[charseraph]

The River Jordan and Sweetpea are electric engines on the first railway on Mars.

River Jordan was the first one built, being the product of a collaboration between the nations who established the colony.

Sweetpea was donated by a coronal aerospace guild and assembled onsite. Her parts were imported and her blueprints were crownmade, so her visage is coronal.

Visage and the nature of living transport

Engines take the image of their creators. Their faces are not organic, and are more like a vessel for helpful senses and communication tools.

They come alive soon after they are built, once out of eyeshot for any moment. Attempts to stare at a new engine to see it stir are foiled somehow (blinks, saccades, CCTV malfunction, momentary lapse in attention). Not all engines come alive, as their animacy is often (but not always) decided by the intent of the builder.

Living engines can assess their circumstances and make judgements based on them. They are useful in volatile situations as an expert second opinion on conduct and design, and are capable of sensing external and internal problems quickly.

In calmer periods, they may not get adequate stimulation, and their personalities may interfere with their efficiency. For this reason, railways have their preferences when they build and purchase engines.

The facial material ends at the surface of the machine and is inscrutable in composition—the material appears to be made of itself, and is unusable for any other purpose besides as an engine’s interface with the world. If damaged, the material heals. If removed, it disappears. The conceptual self-referentiality of engines’ faces, souls, and senses deter scrutiny.

Living machines exist as a fact of the universe. Their animacy is cloaked in an analysis-averting antimeme.

Human Engines

Engines designed and built by humans possess dual-pinhole pupils that dilate into an elliptical shape, granting them a broad field of view and tolerance of rapid changes in light levels (such as in going in and out of tunnels). Deep set zygomata allow them to look directly to their sides, and with the dual-pinhole setup, they maintain some depth perception in monocular sight. Their pupil shapes are hidden by their black irises, which absorb glare. They can see clearly to their front and sides, but can’t see up or down very well. A tapetum lucidum retroreflects incoming light back through their retinas, granting them vision in darkness. The nictitating membranes and long eyelashes protect the eyes from dust.

The chemicals engines are capable of detecting are relevant to their purpose, e.g. distinguishing coal, gasoline, diesel, and wood fires from their smoke but not being able to distinguish or detect food smells. Similar to how cats, obligate carnivores, have lost their ability to taste sugar due to its absence in their diet, but can taste ATP for its presence in meat—engines can parse environmental and industrial scents, but will have wildly varied responses to food and fragrant compounds, often being unable to notice them.

To investigate an aroma, they slightly lower their bottom lip to take air into their vomeronasal organ located behind the upper incisors.

Engines do not require oxygen, but if debris enters the nasal passage, human engines will sneeze to:

Ensure their voice resonates properly,

Keep their olfactory facilities clean, and

Indicate to engineers that particle buildup may have occurred in other places, such as the boiler tubes for steam engines.

Crown Engines

Just as the tongue is the only colored object on a human engine’s face for distinguishability, so are the teeth on coronal engines. The positions of the upper and lower jaw indicate tone, functioning in communication similarly to eyebrows.

Coronal engine eyes consist of an armored cornea surrounded by a cuticle and muscular eyelid. The cornea moves with the help of the embedded eyestalk supporting it. The cuticle is lubricated with an oil-based film and is less susceptible to irritation than the aqueous solution on human engine eyes. The undersides of the eyelids and surface of the cornea are covered in setae, preventing chafing and reducing airflow on the cornea. The hairs catch debris and are combed out by the lids with a puckering motion.

To make up for unenhanced vision by human engine standards, coronal engine hearing is advanced, allowing the listener to pinpoint sound sources through triangulation of the four inner ears. Coronal engines, too, channel sound through their incisors and into their internal ears via the acoustic windows at the hinge of each jaw.

Coronal engines achieve their sense of industrial smell through the gustatory papillae that line their choana and pharynx. They supplement their olfaction by introducing cool air behind the heat pits inside their nares.

Coronal engines’ thermoception is more efficient than living crowns, as coronal engines’ faces do not produce heat nearly proportional to their mass.

Conversely, the tines heat up significantly hotter than the crown average for unambiguity in temperature tones. The origin of the tine thermal energy appears to be redirected from excess produced by the machinery, or from the face’s temperature directly.

Extramodal senses

Engines are capable of listening from within their cabs with greater acuity than mere conduction of sound through the body would suggest. Other unsubstantiated sensory abilities include:

Discernment of water/fuel quality within the framework of taste though intake alone

Somatosensory awareness in the entire body, not just the face

[atomic-chronoscaph]

Beyond Heaven's River - art by Charles Moll (1980)

[sleepymimixx]

wolfstar rec !

When a star fell to earth by EmRoseJori (134,221 words, COMPLETED !)

i can’t believe this one isn’t more well known in the fandom. it’s a space au, (very) loosely based on the 100. sirius is a commander from the empire from the sky and remus lives on earth and sirius crashes on earth. they are absolutely so so in love, they care so much for each other and they are so soft. the world building is rly rly great, i already said it in another review but i love to see how the author can bend the og harry potter story to another world, still coherent with the og (idk if i’m making any sense and english isn’t my first language so i’m a bit at loss for words).

i’m also completely in love with both remus and sirius’ characterization, i love how honest they can be while still struggling but willing to struggle to be able to love the other in the best way possible. i love how they interact, how they build their relationship and learn about each other stories and culture. (you can assure you that you will melt at their first hug (and honestly, i was melting at every interactions they had so be warned aha))

once again, i think if you liked crimson rivers you will like this one.

(i’m not comparing the story etc, they are very different but after reading crimson rivers i felt like nothing could compare because it was also the first sci fi wolfstar fanfic ive read and i was very frustrated that i couldn’t find other

[waywardwizzard]

"Dang, Mal, you've really scraped the bottom of the barrel with this one," Jayne said, looking down at the cage full of Jack Russell Terrier pups. "Although I heard there's some good eatin' on 'em for sure."

"Jayne! That ain't right!" Kaylee scolded, kneeling next to the big cage.

River giggled when one of the puppies licked her finger.

"Can taste freedom. Tastes like cornmeal."

Jayne glared at her, his hand straying to his gun.

"You keep yer mouth shut crazy-"

"Jayne, your mouth's moving. Might want to do somethin' 'bout that," Mal said, glaring at the merc. His eyes were hard and his hand was already on his gun.

Jayne threw Mal one last look before he stomped off, shouldering past Simon. The doctor glared at him before joining his sister at the cage.

"Wash!" Mal yelled to the pilot standing above him on the catwalk. "Set a course for Cassia. The client wants their goods before the week's out."

"And don't the rest of you have something else to do?" Mal added, looking at the group huddled around the crate.

The three kids shook their heads and turned back to playing with the yapping puppies.

Mal shook his head and slowly made his way to his bunk.

Sometimes the bottom of the barrel held all the treasure, Mal thought, gently patting Serenity's hull before he dropped down the ladder. Laughter sounded from the cargo bay and the Captain smiled. Just look at what it brought him.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Author's note:

Thanks to everyone who liked/reblogged/commented, it means a lot and it really made my month<3 This was fun and I hope to see y'all next Yeehawgust!

[schlock-luster-video]

Wishing a happy birthday to film icon, Keanu Reeves! Here's some art inspired by The Matrix, Speed, Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure, John Wick, and River's Edge!

[yizuos]

Unfortunately for me I don't and probably won't because my medical health one day I'll probably adopt to at least give them a childhood never got to experience with the biological parents

Now please take a second that's all I'm asking for...

even though @hildanasr1 has been fundraising on here for several months and been vetted by mohammed ayesh w gazaevacuationfunds since october 9, her family has barely received any donations.

on top of surviving under constant shelling, losing all sense of stability, living with nine people crammed into a tiny tent afflicted by snakes and insects, struggling to find adequate food every day, and the terror of being pregnant (!!) for the first time when healthcare infrastructure is constantly at the brink of collapse--hilda has to go through the demeaning, frustrating process of navigating tumblr and twitter to ask for help. she endures constant disappointment and annoyance because it's her family's best shot to survive.

this is exhausting. these people are exhausted! what else does she have to do to win our attention and sympathy?

[morganhopesmith1996]

Listening to this right now! 😍

[truestfeeiing]

a little pilot episode of a mellobot!au. it's actually a scene close to the end of the story, but i wanted to write it to get a feel.

android scientist!near / insurgent!mello

sci-fi/sci-fantasy, drama, rated general. (1.1k word count)

it's twenty years after the kira case, and mello and near are on opposite sides of the artificial intelligence war. today, mello has infiltrated near's base. he finds a special room with his name on the door.

Mello walked past the android repair shop, the server room, the controls headquarters. He kept heading deeper. The rooms became more personal, less organized, less like they were used for this proxy war that really wasn't a proxy war at all and instead spilt the blood of millions, and more like the battered, rattling lungs of a wounded animal, all the air sacs contracting and expanding in turn. The floor outline, based on the trackers he put in each room, became increasingly crooked and cramped as he approached its center.

“Bastard, what a nice fuckin’ place you've got, huh?” Mello snuffed out his cigarette and flicked the butt into a nearby trash can overflowing with office papers and junk parts.

There were a few facilities that implied more people may have worked here, once, but the downturn of the war on the side of the artificial had taken a toll on that too; offices abandoned, the cantine laced in cobwebs. He tagged those, too, sliding trackers under desks and tacking them on support beams.

The first room he happened upon that held his interest had a door of sturdy oak wood and a slightly oxidized plaque with an old-fashioned inscription. It had nothing to do with the aesthetics of the base that surrounded it; it had the distinct charm of the conception of the twenty-first century, when everyone was freshly hopeful that the dawn of a new age would bring prosperity and light. Mello sneered at the thought of the doomsayers. In the end, those fanatics waving signs and self-flagellating on the streets were much closer to seeing the truth. Still, it was an imperfect truth because here Mello stood, cleansed by fire, built by ash.

The world did end, but it was reconstructed brick by brick by people like Mello.

Though his vision had never quite been restored in his left eye, the curly script inscribed in the plaque clarified into perfect legibility as he approached it, and he stopped dead in his tracks five paces away from the enigmatic door.

“Mello?” He traced out the script with a hoarse whisper.

It was left slightly ajar with a gentle light source emanating from within, as though someone had been waiting and watching, as though the slight crack allowed a breath to pass through.

He tossed a tracker inside and heard it bounce twice before settling. No commotion. Carpet flooring, based on the muffledness.

Unlike the rest of the base, he had zero predictions for what could be inside, but the warm glow spilling out like silk welcomed him, so he hoisted his rifle up a bit more across his shoulders, and slipped a thumb into the holster of his handgun. His stomach twisting and turning in knots of apprehension, Mello gingerly pushed the door open with one gloved hand.

The sight of a mundane bedroom greeted him. Still the chills of a peculiar familiarity ran down his spine. The hue of the lights, the woven carpet, the bedposts in that same rich mahogany. It kind of looked— he recalled with a gulp— like his own room, back at Wammy's, a lifetime ago. Geez what tipped you off, maybe the name on the door?

There were a few odd details that kept his mind from exploding completely, principally the life-sized version of what must be his late teenage self tucked in bed facing away from him, rusty blond hair spilling over his white pillow, his face in a neutral repose. Mello swiftly aimed his handgun at the boy’s head, barking out a harsh warning. When there was no reaction he kicked the edge of the mattress. Still nothing.

He flipped the boy over by the shoulder (it was cold with a bit of give, velvety). and did a quick scan: There. The unmistakable electromagnetic signature of an android. A mighty fine one at that, but still a machine, and powered off. Mello crouched down and peered incredulously into the face of his younger self. He could almost see the scarlet blood rushing beneath his shockingly humanlike skin. None of the androids he'd met independently reached this level of lifelike. Besides the glaring difference of his facial scar and the decades packed into Mello's sallow skin, they were spitting images of each other.

It was truly state of the art.

“You sick fuck,” Mello laughed derisively.

He stood back up—almost dizzy— and surveyed the room one more time. The window, or the model of a window, was of particular interest. Just a standard LED panel behind a traditional-looking frame, with no indication that it could be opened, but it seemed a deliberate difference that only two people in the world were ever clued in to.

“You remembered,” Mello marveled to himself. Past the window played a very subtly looping footage of a generated coastline, the muted blue of brackish waters ambling in and out.

He blinked and watched more closely.

Ah, it wasn't generated. Little dots of people, vintage people, dotted the beachy shores. Even in the cliffs there was occasionally someone chancing a dive. Such idyllic coastlines didn't exist anymore, but in this window, they were immortalized. Mello’s lips thinned into a wobbling line as he put a fist beside the window, in this mirage of a room.

There was a second part to their conversation. His and Near’s. He had let the memory be buried for three decades, under the suffocating hatred and longing and all the thorny feelings stirred in him by one particular man; now it came rushing back unbidden, with vengeance.

“If you go, I wouldn't mind following. I wouldn't mind seeing all these things you find beautiful." Near had been lying on Mello's bed, feet dangling off the side because they were dusty. He didn't look at Mello, but stared up at the ceiling of that windowless room.

Mello had laughed back then.

”How are you gonna do that? You don't even want to leave the orphanage.”

”That's only ‘cause you're here, Mello. But I could do it, don't you believe in me? We'll go visit the Mediterranean Sea, then the Baltic, then sail around the world using L’s money.”

”You're gonna need to lug around so much medicine. Plus, it's kind of hard to believe a recluse like you could find anything beautiful beyond the nails of your own ten toes.”

”You can teach me to.”

In the present, Mello peered down into the youthful face of his mirror one last time before storming out of its room, slamming the door behind him.

[chicago-geniza]

Re-reading The Left Hand of Darkness for the first time as an adult and had somehow memoryholed how much the plot of this book is compelled by [checks notes] The Incest Taboo, as a socio-anthropological construct. Also forgot how much "Star Trek with the serial numbers filed off" worldbuilding there is

[emilythezeldafan]

Open Starter

((first encounter, open for muses of all genders and ages. OCs and crossovers welcome.))

"My, what kind of trouble have I got myself into now..?"

The Blue Eyed Ginger thought to herself, sighing as she looked down at her dress, which had been soaked along with her hair thanks to her falling into a pool earlier. Her clumsiness would be the death of her one day...though death didn't mean the same to a time lady as it would to a human. The Doctor was probably worrying himself sick over the whereabouts of his companion, and she could imagine him getting chewed out by Amy. Maybe even River.

The thought made her chuckle to herself.

"Excuse me," Amerie Rowe lightly tapped a stranger on the shoulder, sighing as she pulled her hand away quickly and attempted to wring the water from her hair. "Would you mind telling me when and where exactly I am? I find myself temporarily unaware of my whereabouts." Why she avoided the word lost so adamantly, even she didn't seem to know.

[nerds-yearbook]

At some point in 1941 Winston Churchill discovered a painting by Vincent van Gogh that showed the Doctor’s TARDIS exploding ("Pandorica Opens", Doctor Who vlm 3, TV)

[edvard-molnar]

When it was work in progress. Futuristic landscape scenery 2, 2023, Acrylic painting on canvas, 110 x 90cm (44 x 36 inches). The artwork is almost entirely done without a background. The work consists of colored fragments around each drawn detail, so that these fragments form the background. There are many details and fragments, so the work requires patience and time to complete, but it brings a lot of joy. When I paint it, I imagine it as filling in a coloring book. Visit my website: www.edvardmolnar.com for more info about my art. Have a wonderful day!🌞🎨💛