#tech doc

[bitcoinversus]

Command #2: tracert (Windows OS)

The ‘tracert’ command, short for ‘Trace Route,’ is a network diagnostic tool that tracks the path data packets take from your device to a specified IP address or domain. By listing each hop and measuring the time it takes to travel between them, ‘tracert’ helps identify delays or connection issues along the route. For instance, executing ‘tracert example.com’ reveals the complete path packets…

[shepscapades]

[dbhc flavored] Hermit a Day May: Day 14 — Doc!

Featuring both a current-day s10 doc and a verrry early s8 post-deviant doc! :]

[penpenpencil]

Tmnt Pride 2/4

[1 - 2 - 3 - 4]

These are just my personal headcanons. (+ Flipped version under cut)

Leo: Demiboy/Genderfluid - Ace umbrella (Lithromantic)

Mikey: Genderqueer - Ace umbrella (Lithromantic)

Donny: Nonbinary/Agender - Aro/Ace

Raph: Demiboy - Bisexual

[mythical-illustrator]

For @staycalmandhugaclone the final drawing

From their story Docs Adventures, Found Footage Chapter (go check it out, it's a bad batch x reader)

the Doc and her boys cuddle for the night after a stressful evening out

I was really nervous about this one because it's a larger more detailed piece than I've done before or really in a while. But I'm happy with it 😀

Art master list

This is not cl0necest, just emotional support for someone special.

* The bed is based on star wars hotel rooms.

*I had to screen shot the paragraph I pulled this from to get everything perfectly. Hopefully I got it all 🙃 so many limbs 😩

[hollowsart]

seriously, Marvel. please consider a little series of comics that focus solely on the mundane side of Spider-Man's rogues' lives. like focusing solely on those who were and are a part of the Sinister Six cuz those are popular favorites.

let us see more about them beyond being villains and plotting and scheming to rob banks/tech facilities or take down Spider-Man. let's see more of their more mundane side.

I'd do ANYTHING for a comic about Mysterio and his every day life outside the villain persona. I already know a Doc Ock focused one would do MAD Numbers from his fanbase.

no lie, Electro fans would go haywire if there was a comic focused on Max Dillon and his less energetic lifestyle.

I ADORE world building and I think we could use some more for the villains. their environments can tell a lot more about them as a character and I think we really could use more of that in general within Marvel as a whole. there's a lot of focus on the characters and their relationships, but it's limited to purely dialogue. a telling and never really showing. and what it tells doesn't do too much.

slap some more DEPTH and INTRIGUE into these characters!!

What are their daily morning routines?? When they're NOT plotting and scheming and having to secretly meet up with other bad guys to make top secret exchanges to further their devious plans. Like.. HOW do they prefer to live and decorate their living spaces?? Show and tell us more about their likes and dislikes!!! DO they have other talents? Did they have any other career ideas they would have enjoyed besides the ones they ended up with? ANYTHING more would be nice!!

I'm just a sucker for world building and character developments beyond the base narrative limitations.

[gothiccharmschool]

Did I Blaze that hyper-specific niche poll that @minim-calibre made? Of course I did, because those of us who work in technical documentation have to find our fun and enrichment somehow.

[s-n-arly]

Hey, are there any alternatives for google.doc?

It depends on what you're using Google Docs for. If it's a word processor, I really love the Libre Office suite. It's got a match for everything in the Microcrap Office suite and it doesn't piss me off the way Word does. If you are using Google Docs for collaboration and sharing, it's probably the easiest and cheapest option, especially if you are sharing with people not on the same network and you want to have access to the same documents at the same time. If you don't need access simultaneously, you can ship a text document (doc/docx/odt/etc) via email and use track changes to identify who made what changes. Microsoft has One Drive, which is supposed to be good for file sharing, but it is not. It sucks and made me want to poke out my eyes with sticks.

Hope this helps.

[pricegouge]

If you're wondering why my writing has slowed down sooooo much it's one, yes, writers block but also two, I actually have to like. Work. While on the clock now and I can only grind out so many sentences while hiding in the facilities

[speakofthedebbie]

todays fantober will be releasing alongside tmrrws unfortunately :(

[bitcoinversus]

How to Build an Embedded System (Hardware Edition)

Building an embedded system for specialized applications like air coolant pods requires a tailored approach that combines hardware assembly and strategic component integration. This guide will walk you through the step-by-step process of constructing a custom embedded system using Rock Pi control boards, an EMMC module for data storage, and an efficient power supply unit (PSU). By following…

[shepscapades]

Why does Ren have 4 ears? Are they all real or is one set fake?

Hehe I’ve gotten this question a lot actually! They’re all real— I like to think hybridization isn’t always a clean balance of traits, so Ren just unfortunately ended up with two sets of ears— his Dog ears being much more receptive to sound, naturally— and sometimes when the extra intake of sound is too overwhelming, I imagine he wears earplugs in his human ears to help adjust :> it’s a bit weird, but idk! i like to make designs funky and nonconventional! I liked the idea that Ren had hearing struggles due to wonky hybridization and just kept the concept :>

[doctorbrown]

MCFLY JULY ‘24 ⸺ 「 9 / 31 * A NEW ‘PUPPY’ 」

August 7, 1895

“Are you sure about this, dear?” The sun streaks across the Train’s sleek lines and Clara marvels at the massive steel beast, powerful and elegant, carving its presence out of the otherwise dreary California landscape. Much like her husband, it is a fusion of the times, the present—by her account—and the future, blended seamlessly to create something larger-than-life that would put even Captain Nemo’s prized Nautilus to shame.

“I’m positive it’ll work. Besides, somebody has to test it to make sure everything is properly calibrated and I’d rather not put you or the kids at risk.”

It isn’t that she doubts her husband on this—he’d already invented a Time Machine once—that fancy metal behemoth propped up in the Delgado Silver Mine where it would wait for another sixty years until Mr. East—Marty came to retrieve it, facilitating the events that, to them, have already occurred.

He had been working diligently on this ever since they’d agreed that they couldn’t remain in this time, lest they threaten the space-time continuum and potentially jeopardise Emmett’s own existence. Even when she could no longer keep up with his future knowledge of science that still bordered the realm of science-fiction by this time’s standards, she had nothing but confidence in his ability.

No, it is the inherent risk that any scientific experiment entails that has her worried for Emmett’s safety, for time is the one barrier she has no hope to breach should something go terribly wrong.

But she can’t allow herself to think like that.

“I’ll be back in about ten minutes’ time from your perspective.” Emmett wraps his arms around her waist, radiating such confidence and conviction that Clara almost feels foolish for worrying so much.

“And not a minute longer,” Clara teases, leaning in to send her husband off with a fond kiss.

The train whistle blares, slicing through the tender parting and causing both Doc and Clara to leap a foot in the air. Laughter, muffled, yet still filtering out from the open cab, takes the place of the silence and if Clara strains her ears, now ringing from the sudden unexpected noise, she can hear Jules and Verne shouting at each other from inside the Train, the latter complaining how he wants a turn.

“I’d better go before the boys decide that I have to wait for them to be finished before I’m allowed to interrupt.”

“Boys, come out of there,” Clara calls, projecting her stern teacher voice that leaves no room for discussion or debate. “You know the Time Machine isn’t a toy and your father has very important work to be doing.”

Jules and Verne both groan, but in mere moments, they trudge their way out of the Train, carefully descending the steps.

“Can we come too, Dad?” Jules asks, throwing that wide-eyed, pleading look at his father that usually has him folding.

“Yeah! Us too!”

“I’m sorry boys,” Emmett says earnestly, “not this time. But I promise that the next time we use the Train, it’ll be as a family.”

“He’ll only be gone for a few minutes,” Clara adds, to which both of the boys’ faces immediately fall, their expectations of some grand adventure dashed.

Emmett climbs into the cabin and retracts the steps and Clara ushers the boys back several feet, mindful of Emmett’s tales of the first Time Machine and its aggressive displacement method. The boys wave as the Train picks up speed and Clara finds herself holding her breath, her chest tightening with each crack of thunder resounding through the air in spite of the idyllic blue California afternoon. The shockwave rattles her bones and when the flash of light subsides, leaving nothing but a trail of fire and smoke where the Train was only a moment ago, Clara finally lets out the breath she was holding.

“Whoa!! Did you see that, Mom? Dad’s gone!”

Verne runs along the side of the tracks, chasing the ghost of the train with Jules in tow, and Clara stays rooted where she is, overcome with a number of complex thoughts and emotions. The reality of it thrills and excites—time-travel would open doors and wonders that she only ever dreamed about, only ever found through the escape of fantastic books—while paradoxically releasing hordes of butterflies in her stomach, each flutter of its wings an uncertainty, a yet unforeseen trouble, an obstacle to overcome.

The Twentieth Century awaits—she could practically grasp it in her hands now, alive with possibility and promise and peril—and they were going to greet it together, as a family.

Clara doesn’t know how long she stands there until she comes back to herself, pulling out her pocket watch to check the time. Two minutes until Emmett should be getting back. Jules and Verne have moved well enough away from the tracks now, likely chasing one of the small critters if their fixation with the ground is any indication.  

When the storm rolls in despite the conspicuous lack of overcast, Clara’s attention snaps back to the tracks at the same time the boys whip around, eagerly awaiting their father’s return. The Train returns with all the pomp and circumstance it deserves, steam rising from its engine, and once Clara confirms that it’s safe to approach, the boys take off, meeting Emmett at the cab.

“It worked, Dad, it worked—but it’s so loud!”

Emmett peeks his head out of the window, grinning triumphantly down at his family. “Right on time. The temporal displacement worked perfectly—in reality, I was gone for almost three hours.” Both Jules’ and Verne’s eyes go wide. “But according to my watch”—he digs around in his pocket, fishing out the watch—“it has only been ten minutes exactly. I thought I might have to recalibrate the Time Circuits, but it looks like—”

Something barks from inside the cabin and Clara and her husband exchange a look.

“What was that, Dad?”

“It barked! Did you get a dog?” Verne gasps. “Did you bring a dog from the future?”

“You remember me telling you stories of my faithful companion Einstein, don’t you?”

“Named after one of your heroes of the Twentieth Century,” Clara says, recalling the countless tales in which Einstein the dog made an appearance. She had known she would come face-to-face with her husband’s best friend—before Marty, that is—at some point, but she had hardly expected the large, shaggy creature sitting comfortably in the train as if this is old news, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

Einstein looks around at the unfamiliar surroundings, then appraises each new unfamiliar face in turn.

“And the world’s first time-traveller,” he says proudly, reaching down to scratch Einstein behind the ears. “I grabbed him from the lab when I could be certain Marty wouldn’t show up unexpectedly.”

“Does he bite?” Jules asks, his voice trembling slightly.

“Only if he doesn’t like somebody. But Einstein is an exceptional judge of character—he’s more likely to lick the skin off your face if you don’t push him away than he is to bite you.” Emmett ushers Einstein out of the Train and gestures to each member of his family, introducing them as if Einstein was possessed of human intelligence.

“I know this is all confusing right now, Einie, since I’ve only been gone a couple hours as far as you’re concerned, but I’d like you to meet my family.”

[retrospect1003]

Calling All Skeletons | Chapter 3: Honest Interaction

Notes: A shorter chapter! I didn't want to overload information in this chapter, so I'm dividing it up. Hope you all enjoy some Doc lore (feat. Crosshair).

Word Count: ~1.6k

Banner by: @/blackseafoam

Doc held her cup with both hands, sitting across from Wrecker, Tech, Echo, and Omega. The atmosphere of the parlor was quiet. Only the five of them were seated around a small table, blue lights dimly glowing from the bar.

“Where do I even start?” She hummed, her fingers tapping the sides of her glass. “I’m not going to give you my life story, but I was on Naboo’s Security Force before I joined the Galactic Army. I was mainly trained as a doctor and learned how to do countless procedures on Naboo.” She set her cup down and placed her blaster on the table, “They taught me how to defend myself.”

The bunch of clones listened and watched Doc closely, taking in every piece of information. Tech adjusted his goggles, looking at her blaster then to Doc, “If you’re trained specially for medical practice, what would the Empire want with you? Besides being on standby as a medic, I don’t see a reason why they’d seek you out as a soldier.”

Doc chuckled softly, “Yeah, you would think I’m just some doctor, right?” She crossed her arms as she leaned back into her chair, “I can shoot, I can fight, and I can doctor. I’m good in tense situations, and the Empire liked my enthusiasm,” she smiled faintly, “When I got an offer, I took it and knew I was going to be helping people across the galaxy instead of a singular planet.” Her lips turned down as she glanced away from the batch, “After months of training, I was sent on my first mission with the Elite Squad. To Onderon.”

A shuttle flew through the stars and vast space. From the inside, only a red light illuminated the area and the Elite Squad.

“Why would they put him in charge?”

The soldiers stood in the shuttle with their clone commander, Crosshair. Four of the squad members remained quiet while ES-01 expressed his complaint. Doc, being one of the four, looked over to ES-01, head tilted.

Crosshair narrowed his eyes, “Problem?”

“Considering our commander has more experience than any of us, it only makes sense for him to be our commander,” Doc interrupted, “You should be respecting him and the efforts he made along with all other clones during the clone wars.” She looked to Crosshair before quickly darting her eyes away, “Apologies Commander.”

Sharing eye contact with Doc, Crosshair’s expression remained the same. He didn’t respond to her at all, yet there was a familiar silence between them.

ES-01 rolled his eyes, ignoring Doc, “Tell me this, clone,” he started as he eyed his commander, “If you all are so efficient, how come the Empire’s scouting soldiers like us?”

Doc furrowed her brows, “It’s giving a job to people like you and me. It’s allowing the clones to train us and rest-“

“ES-05, they were made to be in war! The Empire is obviously done with clones,” ES-01 snapped, facing away, “Sounds to me like it’s time for a change.”

Doc rolled her eyes, disengaging from the conversation. Meanwhile, Crosshair glued his intimidating glare to his argumentative squad-member.

“Enjoy being commander,” ES-01 smirked, “For now. We’ll see how things shake out.”

A tense and awkward silence fell on the squad. This lasted until the shuttle landed at their destination, each member taking their positions with Crosshair’s guide. They started to move in on the targets, Doc’s blaster at the ready and stationed further back. She watched the so-called insurgents from behind her squad and her eyes widened. She lowered her blaster slowly. These weren’t insurgents, but they had to be the target.

“ES-05, move up.”

Doc snapped back to reality at Crosshair’s command, swallowing, “Yes,” she hesitated, “Commander.” She moved forward as told. She lifted her blaster at the targets shakily, eyeing each individual. This is wrong. This isn’t right.

Crosshair led the blast fire, taking out Saw Gerrera’s fighters like light work. Each of the other squad-members followed their commander as they shot at each believed soldier. Doc’s hand shook as she watched the bloodshed and falling of people before her. Each shot she fired intended to miss, only to say that she was technically following orders. She watched as one went to pilot the vehicle and make their escape. She watched. Hopeful.

A blast shot through the pilot’s chest. The transport dropped to the ground immediately.

Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach as the scene replayed in her head. Doc’s eyes stung with tears as she looked to her commander and squad-mates as they moved in on the innocents. Each step she took with her squad was heavy, begging her to turn away.

The targets spilled out of the transport, knowing they had nowhere else to go. One of Gerrera’s fighters glared at the squad as she threw her weapon down to approach Crosshair.

Holding a gun to her chest, Crosshair pressed, “Where’s Gerrera?”

“I don’t know. But I wouldn’t tell you if I did-”

A bolt fires through her chest.

Crosshair stands over her body as it falls, holstering his gun, “I believe you.”

The medic turned her head away from the scene. Her eyes shut tight at the sound of the blaster firing, tears threatening their escape.

Her commander continued with his interrogation as he walked to the other individuals, “Do any of you have any information you’d like to share?”

A couple huddled close together, the human man speaking, “We don’t know anything,” he quickly assured, “We were promised transport off world, that’s all.”

“Then you’re of no use to the Empire,” Crosshair snarled as he aimed his gun at the couple.

“What are you doing?” ES-01 interjected, “Gerrera’s fighters are dead. These are civilians.”

Doc shook her head, clearing her throat, “They aren’t a threat to us or the Empire.”

“Right,” ES-01 straightened his posture, “We should bring them in.”

Crosshair turned to his squad, “Those weren’t our orders.” His voice was sharp.

“Forget our orders! This is wrong,” ES-01 looked over to the civilians, attempting to advocate for them. Even if it’s just to give them another day to fight and live.

Doc placed her blaster on her hip. She couldn’t go through with it. She wouldn’t.

“So, you’re not going to comply?” Crosshair threatened as he leaned in close to ES-01.

“No. None of us are,” ES-01 answered directly as he turned to his squad-mates, “Ignore the clone. We signed up to be soldiers, not an execution squad.”

The rest of the squad listened closely to ES-01. Doc, moving in closer to listen to her companion, readied herself to do what was necessary to avoid any more death than there had to be. That was until Crosshair interrupted ES-01’s plans.

“You want to know why they put me in charge?”

Doc and her squad turned towards their commander, listening to see what he had to say. The medic’s stomach churned at his words.

“It’s because I’m willing to do what needs to be done,” Crosshair quickly drew his blaster, shooting directly into ES-01’s chest.

There wasn’t a moment to turn away or stop him before it happened. Doc couldn’t hold back her gasp. Immediately, she dropped to the ground beside ES-01 as she pulled her bag off to search for supplies.

“Leave him,” the commander pointed his blaster at Doc as he snarled.

“’Good soldiers follow orders,’” Doc repeated the words Crosshair said to her. The memory of the cold and unforgiving stare and tone remained with her, “Those civilians never stood a chance. I should’ve run away and taken the ship then and there, but I froze.”

The "bad" batch of clones were all together at the table with Omega as Doc told her story. Their faces all deep in thought of the situation. Knowing Crosshair all this time to suddenly knowing nothing about him shook their cores. How could he do this? If only his chip hadn’t activated Order 66.

A silence loomed over the bunch as Doc finished her retelling of events. Omega looked down, thinking to herself, before fixing her gaze on the medic and moving closer to her. She placed a hand on her arm, looking at the table, “His behavior isn’t his fault. Clones have inhibiter chips that influence their behaviors.”

Doc’s brows furrowed, “Then why do all of you act reasonably?”

“We are defective clones,” Tech answered, “Our chips seem to have malfunctioned when Order 66 was given. Except for Crosshair’s...” His eyes moved to look at the ground. His brothers shared a similar expression to him, panged by the actions of Crosshair.

Glancing to Omega and then to the men before her, Doc could feel their grief. They lost their brother to the Empire. More than anything she lost to them. “I’m so sorry,” her eyes soften, “I’m sure he was a great brother to you all.”

Wrecker’s eyes found Doc’s after she spoke. His lips barely curved a woeful smile, acknowledging her words.

Hunter thought through her story, eventually standing up as he spoke, “Crosshair’s actions were his choice to make, even if influenced by the chip.” He sighed heavily as he crossed his arms, “There was nothing we could do about it,” he looked to Doc, “But if you have nowhere else to go, the least we can do is help you and make things right.”

“And I’ll do anything I can to help you all,” Doc’s mouth shone a small smile, “Running from the Empire is no joke.”

Echo scoffed a short chuckle, “Yeah, you can say that again.”

Omega jumped up from her seat, clasping Doc’s hand in both of hers, “So, that means you’re going to stay?”

The medic stood up as she shared a smile with Omega, “For the time being, yes.” She looked to Hunter, “On a different note, what did Cid tell you?”

Getting back on track, Hunter turned to the group, “We need to discuss Cid’s intel further on the Marauder.”

Notes: I'm already in the process of writing the next chapter, so hopefully there won't be as long of a wait this time! Classes, moving, and working have all been very stressful as of recent. I'll have some more free time soon! Until the next chapter!

[calciumcryptid]

It's sad I deleted all the MCYT fanfiction wips I had years back. The Hermitcraft ones were fun. :(

[mythical-illustrator]

@staycalmandhugaclone

Another piece for this wonderful story, though this one took me longer than the others. Tech is a lanky boy and I love him.

This is from touched starved Chapter four for Tech and the Doc.

Go read docs Adventures if you have the chance. No clone armor except some shin braces but so many limbs lol

I too want to give tech head kisses

Art Master List

[haanichan]

Computers do have a soul.

Yes they do,and its not just an operating system.

But its their motherboard and their appearance thats keeping them alive.

Anytime you boot up the computer,it's soul awakes.

Bits by bits,thats where it came.