#square root of complex number
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9nid · 11 days ago
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Square Root of Complex Numbers | Class 11 JEE Maths | Complex Number Series 🔥
Is video mein humne complex numbers ka square root nikalna seekha hai — wo bhi JEE Mains ke point of view se. Kaise aap kisi bhi complex number ka √ निकाल सकते ho using algebraic as well as geometric methods, woh step-by-step samjhaya gaya hai. Yeh Class 11 ke Complex Number Chapter ka ek important concept hai jo directly JEE mein poocha gaya hai. Topics Covered:👉 What is the square root of a…
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edusquaremaths · 11 days ago
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Square Root of Complex Numbers | Class 11 JEE Maths | Complex Number Series 🔥
Is video mein humne complex numbers ka square root nikalna seekha hai — wo bhi JEE Mains ke point of view se. Kaise aap kisi bhi complex number ka √ निकाल सकते ho using algebraic as well as geometric methods, woh step-by-step samjhaya gaya hai. Yeh Class 11 ke Complex Number Chapter ka ek important concept hai jo directly JEE mein poocha gaya hai. Topics Covered:👉 What is the square root of a…
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floralfractals · 1 year ago
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Imagine (pun intended) not knowing about i.
this equation is NOT cute. numbers actually hate being under a square root symbol and it distresses them
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certified-shellfishhater · 3 months ago
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looked at the 4 complex numbers questions i'm supposed to do by tomorrow, did 2 of them, gave up and went to do econs
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locusfandomtime · 2 years ago
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The maths fandom is wild. “Real” and “imaginary” numbers? I think you mean canon and non-canon. You guys seriously go “this is my number oc his name is i and he is the square root of -1” when in numbers canon lore it’s actually impossible to square root a negative but sure whatever. “Complex numbers”? I think you mean a character x oc ship. “f(x) = 3x - 5”? That is self-insert fanfiction.
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bigcats-birds-and-books · 11 months ago
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"Pandora, Worrying About What She Is Doing, Finds a Way into the Valley through the Scrub Oak," from Always Coming Home by Ursula K. Le Guin
Look how messy this wilderness is. Look at this scrub oak, chaparro, the chaparral was named for it and consists of it mixed up with a lot of other things, but look at this shrub of it right here now. The tallest limb or stem is about four feet tall, but most of the stems are only a foot or two. One of them looks as if it had been cut off with a tool, a clean slice across, but who? what for? This shrub isn’t good for anything and this ridge isn’t on the way to anywhere. A lot of smaller branch-ends look broken or bitten off. Maybe deer browse the leafbuds. The little grey branches and twigs grow every which way, many dead and lichened, crossing each other, choking each other out. Digger-pine needles, spiders’ threads, dead bay leaves are stuck in the branches. It’s a mess. It’s littered. It has no overall shape. Most of the stems come up from one area, but not all; there’s no center and no symmetry. A lot of sticks sticking up out of the ground a little ways with leaves on some of them—that describes it fairly well. The leaves themselves show some order, they seem to obey some laws, poorly. They are all different sizes from about a quarter of an inch to an inch long, but each is enough like the others that one could generalise an ideal scrub-oak leaf: a dusty, medium dark-green color, with a slight convex curve to the leaf, which pillows up a bit between the veins that run slanting outward from the central vein; and the edge is irregularly serrated, with a little spine at each apex. These leaves grow irregularly spaced on alternate sides of their twig up to the top, where they crowd into a bunch, a sloppy rosette. Under the litter of dead leaves, its own and others’, and moss and rocks and mold and junk, the shrub must have a more or less shrub-shaped complex of roots, going fairly deep, probably deeper than it stands aboveground, because wet as it is here now in February, it will be bone dry on this ridge in summer.
There are no acorns left from last fall, if this shrub is old enough to have borne them. It probably is. It could be two years old or twenty or who knows? It is an oak, but a scrub oak, a low oak, a no-account oak, and there are at least a hundred very much like it in sight from this rock I am sitting on, and there are hundreds and thousands and hundreds of thousands more on this ridge and the next ridge, but numbers are wrong. They are in error. You don’t count scrub oaks. When you can count them, something has gone wrong. You can count how many in a hundred square yards and multiply, if you’re a botanist, and so make a good estimate, a fair guess, but you cannot count the scrub oaks on this ridge, let alone the ceanothus, buckbrush, or wild lilac, which I have not mentioned, and the other variously messy and humble components of the chaparral. The chaparral is like atoms and the components of atoms: it evades. It is innumerable. It is not accidentally but essentially messy. This shrub is not beautiful, nor even if I were ten feet high on hashish would it be mystical, nor is it nauseating; if a philosopher found it so, that would be his problem, but nothing to do with the scrub oak. This thing is nothing to do with us. This thing is wilderness. The civilized human mind’s relation to it is imprecise, fortuitous, and full of risk. There are no shortcuts. All the analogies run one direction, our direction. There is a hideous little tumor in one branch. The new leaves, this year’s growth, are so large and symmetrical compared with the older leaves that I took them at first for part of another plant, a toyon growing in with the dwarf oak, but a summer’s dry heat no doubt will shrink them down and warp them. Analogies are easy; the live oak, the humble evergreen, can certainly be made into a sermon, just as it can be made into firewood. Read or burnt. Sermo, I read; I read scrub oak. But I don’t, and it isn’t here to be read, or burnt. It is casting a shadow across the page of this notebook in the weak sunshine of three-thirty of a February afternoon in Northern California. When I close the book and go, the shadow will not be on the page, though I have drawn a line around it; only the pencil line will be on the page. The shadow will be then on the dead-leaf-thick messy ground or on the mossy rock my ass is on now, and the shadow will move lawfully and with great majesty as the earth turns.
The mind can imagine that shadow of a few leaves falling in the wilderness; the mind is a wonderful thing. But what about all the shadows of all the other leaves on all the other branches on all the other scrub oaks on all the other ridges of all the wilderness? If you could imagine those for even a moment, what good would it do? Infinite good.
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-- Ursula K. Le Guin, Always Coming Home (273-5)
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incorrect-hs-quotes · 1 year ago
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ERIDAN: the math fandom is wwild. "real" and "imaginary" numbers? i think you mean canon and non-canon
ERIDAN: you guys seriously go "this is my number oc his name is i and hes the square root of -1" wwhen in numbers canon lore its actually impossible to square root a negativve but sure wwhatevver
ERIDAN: "complex numbers" i think you mean a character x oc ship. "f(x) = 3x - 5" that is self-insert fanfiction
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farolero-posting · 5 months ago
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I recently made a present for @anndrag0n inspired in the Project Golden Clover AU. I hope you all enjoy!
Start of a Project
Words: 3.5k
Summary:
Cedric makes a trip to the library.
Cedric recalled a quote from one of his father’s journals as he entered the library, just as someone with a coffee mug for a head left the building, slightly bumping on him and cursing under their breath.
“As much as I wish reading was encouraged, I am grateful to find an empty corner in the library to let myself travel along the pages of many volumes.”
Such was not the case when Cedric walked in that evening. Though, he was relieved to find that it was emptier than during the evacuation, a week prior.
When he thought about it, the amount of recovery the world had achieved was huge, compared to how slow and troublesome the decay had been. Considering how much work was put into trying to fix all of it to no avail until salvation arrived… Well, important sacrifices were made. HIs father gave his life to see this project through. Everyone contributed their parts, too, faithful that one day the last piece of the puzzle would fall into place. He understood that once they got to the root of the problem, things would flow much better.
It still struck him as surreal to witness the aftermath, and see the end of the world (this simulated version, at least) becoming a thing of the past. The library no longer needed to be a shelter for evacuees. In fact, those injured by squares had recovered in full mere minutes after the sun was restored, according to the newsbots in the city. Many points in the city also lost their corruption, and in the next few hours, most traces of any catastrophe were gone.
People prayed to the operator’s name to show their thankfulness. Cedric knew the truth was far more complex than that, but he could share the sentiment. At least, it meant most residents would find some explanation that already fit into their worldview for everything they had experienced.
He really wished the creator behind all of this could see it, witness his sacrifices paying off, maybe know the world his children now inherited. Get him a happy ending too. That was his eventual goal, deep down.
A small crowd gathered around the book club zone, the writing on the whiteboard read “New book from the Author: Encyclopedia of underground minerals”. Cedric walked past it, not giving it a second glance. He recognized the title, and though his father did make some contributions, the book was really more of a shared project between many others in the community. Many of the late world encyclopedias were shared projects by scientists not particularly interested in individual gain.
He wondered if any of the actual main authors was around… not that Cedric would recognize them at first glance.
He wished he had been more present in his father’s work.
Holding a library card, he approached the bookbot in place.
“Er.. Greetings!” He smiled, as he placed the card on the front desk, but the robot didn’t take it. “Is the head librarian on her shift?”
“Affirmative”, was the robot’s flat response. “Do you wish to speak to George?”
“Yes, I do. I wanted to—”
“Allow me to call her.” The voice communication system on it activated, as it rang a number. It always sounded slightly too loud for Cedric’s taste.
“Please, I can just go to the archives directly instead…” he whispered.
“Library card required for further access.”
He felt bad being inpatient with robots, especially untamed ones, but he let out a huff after a few awkward seconds.
“I have my card here…?” Cedric offered it again. The bookbot took it, but didn’t read it yet.
“Please wait until the current task is completed, the phone is still—” the beeping stopped, and a raspy sigh from the other end was followed by a loud slam. “She hung up.”
“I can see that…”
“Humans are not able to see phone signals.”
“The phrasing wasn’t…” Cedric cut himself off, looking aside nervously, as the bookbot stared back neutrally. There wasn’t much of a point in insisting. “Nevermind. Can you read my library card?”
“Affirmative.” Its eyes scanned the barcode with a red laser, as it muttered its usual phrases. Then it stopped. “My system indicates there is an infraction, Mr. Cedric.”
He froze.
“Infraction registered: trespassing of restricted areas, unauthorized book retrieval, dated six days ago.” Its voice then became extremely fast and barely discernible. ”Disclaimer: this infraction has been added automatically by our robots based on observed behavior and has been linked to your face due to its facial recognition system, you can dispute this claim by…”
He sighed, not being able to keep up with the speed.
“I will settle it with George, I believe that’s what she’d prefer us to do. I’ll head upstairs, if you let me…”
“Carry on.” The bookbot pointed behind it, and then returned to its usual activities.
Cedric walked up to the Head Librarian’s office home. He noted that the room before the entrance had a few copies of the new book sitting on hastily put shelves. He guessed that some of the library workers would pick them up as needed.
The door had a printed sign on it, taped to the wall, and with a blue circle drawn several times around the message.
“PLEASE KNOCK ON THE DOOR BEFORE ENTERING. USE YOUR MANNERS!!!!!!!”
Cedric followed the instructions, giving two measured knocks. He waited for about a full minute, before he did it again, bracing himself. He had an idea of what sort of person he’d run into.
The door opened right after he knocked.
“You know only one time is enough, right? It’s not like this office is that big, I hear PLENTY from outside.”
“Oh, I’m sorry! I just thought you—”
The dice headed lady stepped aside, and gestured with her arm for Cedric to walk in as she huffed, the air between them was so tense it could snap at any moment. The room seemed messy, like she’d just dropped a manuscript and was trying to pick it up.
“Will you walk in? Or did you just come here to distract me for no reason?”
“I’ll… go in. My bad.” Cedric stepped inside, and closed the door behind himself, with the head librarian watching him intently. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, miss. To meet you properly, I mean.” He extended his gloved hand.
“It’s probably not, kid, but I’ll take the manners.” George extended her own hand, shaking his with a weak grip. “What’s your name?”
“It is Cedric.” He noticed the librarian’s hat was about to fall off one of the edges of her head.
“Did you come here because of the new book? I can’t talk to the Author if you wanted to meet him. And I think I left plenty of copies outside for you to look at. Just please tell me I didn’t miss a typo.”
“Oh, no, not at all.” Cedric reached for his bag but George interrupted him.
“Thank goodness.” She sighed, still standing near the door. “I keep getting calls from the receptionist about it and I’m so done with them all. Most of them are just… people thinking it’s my job to receive fan mail.”
“Is that why you hung up?”
“I did?”
“Y… yes? Two minutes ago?”
“Ah, right. Yeah, that’s probably why. See? It gets repetitive.” She shook her head and yawned. “Do you have issues with your library card then?”
“Actually… I suppose I do? I got flagged for an infraction.” Cedric took out one of the books inside his bag. “I wanted to return this book I… borrowed… the last time I was here.”
George took the book and stared at it, then back at Cedric.
“Are you telling me you’re—” The two points on her front face shrunk in surprise. “You’re that one kid! You gave us all one heck of a scare, you know that?”
He bit his lip. “Did I?”
“You went out into a dangerous zone in the middle of an emergency! You should be glad I’m too tired to lecture you about that.” She picked the book, looking through its pages for any signs of tear. “I guess you did what you needed to do, huh?”
“Indeed.” Cedric watched as the librarian took the book through a scan. “I’m… sorry for getting in here like that. I wanted to say that to you directly.”
George tilted her head to the side, and her points on her face moved upwards. Was she rolling her eyes?
“I know a guy who apologizes over everything. I’m still waiting to see if he dares to send any new manuscript for me to edit and say sorry about it, as if he wasn’t giving me a reason to have a job.”
Cedric didn’t respond, perplexed.
She continued: “I don’t care about apologies for things you would’ve done either way. I’m just glad my hard work wasn’t wasted because there’s no other copy of this book and I’m not letting anyone else touch it, unless it’s Kip.”
“I assume you refer to Dr. Kip Silverpoint? Why she?”
“Well, duh? I know nothing about robotics, but the Author insisted he wanted this book to be really detailed and she’s like, the closest expert I know.”
Cedric stayed quiet, unsure about what to add.
“You’re not getting me to talk more by staying quiet, by the way.” She walked back towards the entrance, now holding an empty coffee mug. “Is that all you need from me? Can I get a break?”
Cedric’s grip on his bag tightened. He wouldn’t want to bother her… Oh how he wished they had gotten into a different version of their universe. He was, admittedly, a little intimidated by this one.
“Cat got your tongue?” Case in point.
“No…! No.”
He felt like shivering. This was going to be a terrible idea.
George walked towards the door. “So… nothing else to do here, alright!” she announced. ”You can leave now!”
But he had to.
“I… have some books I want you to look into.”
He took out two journals. One was found at the entrance of the room the messiah left, right as they went into the center of the World Machine’s engine. The only item that was dropped upon entering.
The second journal had been found in his dad’s study, unlabeled. Neither Rue or Proto commented on it. Unfortunately, it seemed like its data was encrypted. Cedric knew a few languages his father would use in some of his writing, but he was never taught this one, and wondered if it was some kind of restriction from the simulation. And if that was the case, he wondered why he wasn’t exempt from that restriction.
"Why do you think I should look into them?"
"I believe you're... the only one capable of reading what's in them." Cedric pressed his lips together, trying to find the right wording for the librarian. "I hear you're... proficient in deciphering other languages."
"How complicated could it be? I probably have many dictionaries you could use so you could do it yourself. You don't even need to pick them from the archive, just borrow it like usual" George crossed her arms.
"To be clearer... Maybe I should show you."
As he pulled the books, George rushed to grab one. She flipped a few pages, faster each time.
"Of course." She muttered, a groan growing as she went. "Of course he would do that! And I guess it's my job, as always. Not like anyone else could figure out what this language even is!"
Cedric stepped back, and wondered if maybe he had chosen a bad day.
"How did you get this?"
"The... messiah had one of them. They left it when they finished using it, I assume." He felt the scalp covered by his hat itch, but he restrained from reaching there. "The other was a manuscript I got from... his study.
"You went WHERE?" She practically yelled.
"Ah! Well. I... have known him for... a long time? I am sorry, I did not mean to startle you."
"No, no, I'm super fine, completely normal." George placed a hand on her face. "I've been working for him for what may as well my entire life and he gives me CRUMBS about himself. Like I read everything he publishes but there's no way to guess much about his life. I know nothing, except he hasn't been talking to me for almost a month."
"A month? That's quite a while." He noted this was about the same timeframe other people had given him. Something in it matches some kind of event.
"Right? Either he's preparing some colossal bomb of a book to drop on me, or he's dead." Cedric couldn't help but frown at that.
"I'm exaggerating, kid."
"My name is Cedric..."
"Yeah, yeah. Oh." George took another look at him, then checked his library card. "I've seen your name before."
"Uhm... what?" It was his turn to be surprised.
"Here." She led him towards a manuscript she was working on. "The book I'm editing now has your name, it has a loose note. I assume he left it there and didn't take it out before sending it here."
"May I take a look?"
"I mean, knock yourself out, it's not much."
Lying next to the book, a note simply read:
"This book contains many progress sketches on variations to the flying machine. I apologize if this is too much to ask, but do restrict access to this book to a few select people, as ethical use of these blueprints is advised."
The short list contained his own name, along with a few other names that looked smudged, so he couldn’t read them.
How... disappointing.
He almost expected something more personal. A letter to him, a travel log dedicated to him, maybe some warm message, a book dedication, an apology. Instead it felt like he was trying to subtly hand him a book with a task to do. Finish what he started.
He felt mean, as the words crossed his mind. It just… wouldn’t really represent how he feels. Cedric knew he was loved deeply. He knows his father cared about him. He knew that, during his life, he did his best to protect Cedric and his siblings from the exposure he had. Cedric knew his father did his best to protect their integrity within this simulated world, even if it meant to be distant, to speak in code, or through subtle hints. He knew his father wanted to pass on his legacy to them.
He looked further into the book. A sketch showed a model of the flying machine made to fit more people, and a few notes on how to properly compensate for the additional weight. Another sketch showed the learning curve for piloting, and Cedric was surprised to see, an albeit very simplified, depiction of him on those pages.
His dad probably wrote some notes while training him.
The Author’s son left the manuscript where it was before, and approached George, who seemed to be complaining about damaged books.
“Are… you alright, miss?” He was both afraid to ask and interrupt her, and not asking and making her feel neglected.
“Don’t you know translation takes time?” She didn’t bother to look up. “I’ll finish it off in a few hours, just go do something else.”
“Oh! I didn’t mean for you to do it right now! My deepest apologies.”
“Too late, I’d rather do it now before I forget.” She wrote something down on a notepad. “This is gonna cost you, though.”
“I… suppose I can do a few things in return?”
“You’re gonna get me a… parfait from that one cafeteria at Glen level, the one by the clock tower. I want the one with extra caffeine.”
As Cedric was leaving, she added.
“Oh, and you’re gonna tell me about the Author, because there’s something that’s been really bothering me.”
“I’ll… do my best.”
Cedric walked away, closing the door carefully. He sighed in relief, and tried to shake off the awkward feeling building up in his chest. He felt his body drained of energy, and the sensation that, no matter what he said, or what he thought, he would make some kind of mistake he would have to fix.
He went behind one of the buildings, into a path of narrow alleys. He found the only tree in the area. Rue wasn’t there, as she was visiting the Glen for the day. Even then, she spent more time near his apartment, wanting to spend more time with company, rather than alone.
Someone walked towards the tree, and stopped at the entrance.
“Cedric.” A copy of the messiah spoke, with a somewhat distant voice.
The spirit of the world.
“Uh… hi! I wasn’t expecting you here.”
“I am everywhere, you know this.” They slowly walked in, an holographic hand reaching for the wall. “I find it difficult to pilot this projection inside this one room. I have yet to clear this area from my creator’s restrictions.”
“Why are you here?”
“I keep trying to restore things. But it’s not the same.” They sit down, burying their face in their scarf. “I keep looking for any bits I can find, except it’s not enough to make it look as t was before.”
“You’ve been doing a great job, actually! I was thinking about that earlier…”
“I’m only undoing my damage, Cedric, I don’t need praise or your thanks.”
“But… well…”
“I saw you talking to the head librarian,” they continued. “And it gave me an idea.”
Cedric wouldn’t lie that he would much prefer to not be seen when he’s being such an awkward ball of nerves.
“What would your idea be?”
“I want you to go look in there, and help me find things to fix. He left things about the world in those books, didn’t he?"
“Oh well… there are plenty of things in there.” Cedric rested his chin on his hand. “We would have to look through all the encyclopedias, and his travel logs and…”
“I already went through the contents of the library.” The hologram smirked. “But I need someone to filter it.”
“Why?”
“I don’t recognize his writing as well as you or the others do. I understand information, not authenticity.” They looked away from Cedric. “And… you knew the real world better than I did, right? So you’d be able to help me test it.”
“I… see.”
Saying he “knew” the real world felt like a wrong assumption. Cedric was merely a teen, and a reclusive one at that. He wasn’t sure how much potential this plan had.
“But why me? Wouldn’t the other two be more helpful?”
“You have already established a connection to the head librarian. You can keep going, and help with this.”
“I’m not… sure how helpful she’ll be.”
“You’re getting journals translated from her. She’s helpful in ways I can’t directly intervene.” The World Machine tried to grab a pebble on the floor, but their hand phased through it. “There are several restrictions on me at the moment. I’ve been slowly overriding them, but at least it seems that my creator left some key characters, er, people, to do certain things I can’t.”
“I think I understand. I’ll do what I can.” Cedric pressed his lips, pensive. “I’m not sure… but, do you have any idea what those journals have?”
“I refused to read them, back then.” Cedric frowned, thinking back on all the times the World Machine refused to engage with them all.. “I hope I can bear to read them this time.”
“I really miss him, you know?” Cedric looked away. “I… never felt him so present until I saw his study. There’s gotta be something in there.”
“Maybe.” The projection wavered. “She’s almost ready. The librarian.”
“Oh! Has it really been that long?” Cedric stood up, dusting off his clothing. “I should get going!”
“Cedric, before you go.” The spirit walked towards him, handing him a parfait, fitting the description he was given some time ago. “You shouldn’t forget this.”
“I was almost in very big trouble! Thank you!”
“Remember my request.”
The spirit faded.
When he returned to the library, the light around him was getting dimmer. Despite this, the place didn’t seem emptier. The concept of evening wasn’t yet clear for most residents of the world. Cedric made a quick stop to show his library card and go to George’s office.
He knocked on the door once, and waited patiently. George called out to let him in, and the librarian rushed towards him, grabbing the drink in his hands.
“Now this is the payment I deserve.”
“Did you… finish?” Cedric stood on the tip of his feet, trying to see what was on George’s desk.
“Yeah, I’m done. First journal was actually meant for the god. It looked like some… instructions to get inside the tower. The rest was torn apart. It was like this when you got it, right?”
“Yeah…”
“Some pages had the word ‘solstice’ written on them, but they were just sketches.”
“Oh! That makes sense then.” Cedric nodded, and accepted the notes George had left in the journal. “What about the second one?”
“Here’s the other part of your payment.” She pressed her hand down on the journal. “You know more than you let on, don’t you?”
“What?”
“Are you his kid?”
“Uh… how did you reach such a conclusion?”
“This journal.” She stared at him attentively. He stepped back. “It’s the only explanation for the stuff inside, and the way you got this journal.”
Should he trust?
He won’t get help unless he is honest…
“You would be correct, I’m his son.”
“Where has he been?”
“What do you mean?”
“He talks a lot about going to places, some kind of other world, something about doing it on his own terms but wondering if returning was possible…”
“Father is…”
He couldn’t say that he died. He was not here but he couldn’t be gone. His father wouldn’t leave without trying to return. He wouldn’t abandon them all.
“Father is indeed not available.” Cedric carefully chose his words. “He.. is too far for me to reach.”
“What even…” George pressed her hand on her face. “That guy, I really don’t get him.”
“I think I’ll check the journal in private, then.” Cedric offered. “I think I can find him.”
His father can’t be gone, and if Cedric has to read through every piece of writing to find him, he will.
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noelledeltarune · 5 months ago
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like i cannot stress enough how odd that is. usually midterms take place over the entire class period. what are we gonna do afterwards for the last 30 minutes??? we do our midterm and then my prof is just like Okay now let’s start on the topic of Complex Numbers
having 30% of your mark be dependent on a 50 minute exam should be a crime. it’s so weird too because like ??? the class is 80 minutes. to be honest i’m almost convinced that they’re just using the same midterm for both class sections (because there’s a 50 minute M-W-F section vs my section which is for 80 minutes on T-TR) but that’s fucking stupid because then people in the M-W-F class would be liable of like academic misconduct by talking about the exam since they had it yesterday??
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erzatz3117 · 18 days ago
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Does anyone want to discuss weird science fiction concepts with me.
I've been trying to find esoteric plot devices for later installments of the total decay series, and so I had this idea of a universe with two dimensions of time. They can be mapped neatly onto a plane much like complex numbers.
(sorry for the bad illustrations. Had to make them on my phone)
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Well, this sounds interesting at first, but then you start thinking and it stops making any sense. Because, what would imaginary time *be like*?
First of all, how would it uhm, go? Does everything move in both dimensions at a uniform rate or maybe us humans live only in real time (and therefore are timeless in imaginary time and don't experience it). My original idea was that humans would only start experiencing IT after exceeding the speed of light.
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Second of all, this fucks up causality. 2 time dimensions mean that 2 events can be both simultaneous and not at the same time (no pun intended. It's actually kinda harmful here. urgh). This is especially insane if, say, A directly caused B.
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This also means that even if A led to B in real time, B -> A might also be true in imaginary time, or vice versa.
Thirdly, what would a person suddenly flung into an imaginary time-only existence feel? Their worldline would be perpendicular to the axis of real time, meaning that they would simply not exist in it past a certain point. Likewise, the entire world will come to a standstill for our friend, as their co-ordinate in real time will be the same for the rest of their lonely and incomprehensible life.
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Even if they can interact with the world of real time, they would still most likely just suffocate at a certain point due to lack of air circulation or something.
But actually, since these two axes are more or less independent, it is entirely possible that our friend might discover a previously unseen, but otherwise completely normal world that exists in parallel with ours. In this case, moving through the time plane diagonally, i.e. in both worlds at once, would probably be an absolute hell.
Lastly, if this imaginary time is *actually* imaginary, in a "oh no, it's square root of negative nine o'clock! I'm gonna be late for school!" sense, then it would lead to some funny conclusions. For example, acceleration is velocity divided by time, or distance divided by time *squared*. Since we are dealing with imaginary time here, a square of said time is going to be negative, which means, I think, that pushing the gas pedal in your IT-certified car would work more like a brake.
So, what do you think about this? I'm not asking anyone to do worldbuilding for me, I just feel like there are some people on this site that love discussing things that are not real and so I'm giving them the opportunity to do so.
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lipshits-continuous · 2 years ago
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Okay this is going to be a bit more venty than usual but I've seen a post about complex numbers that's annoyed me.
The only reason you are less willing to accept the existence of imaginary numbers is you aren't taught it in a way that helps build intuition nor from as young an age.
Complex numbers have been around for centuries. They aren't some new fangled thing that are mysterious to mathematicians. Part of the non-mathematician's conception of imaginary numbers certainly isn't helped by their name but I have to say I think the internet and clickbait are a lot to blame for that too.
A lot of mathematics is invented by thinking "what if..." and rolling with it to see if you can draw anything meaningful from it. "What if numbers less than 0 exist?", well then you have given meaning to something like 2-7. "What if we could divide any two integers?", now you can talk about what 3/7 means. Asking "what if square roots of negative numbers did exist?" let's us explore whether √(-1) would give us something with consistent and useful properties and it turns out it does (technically we just declare i²=-1 and i=-√(-1) does everything just as well).
"You can't take the square root of a negative number" is drilled into pupils heads at school when really the message should be a more subtle "there aren't any real numbers that are the square root of a negative number". It's a subtle but important difference. It's exactly like saying "there aren't any natural numbers x such that for naturals numbers y and z with z>y we have x=y-z". You'd be pretty hard pressed to find anyone saying that the latter is impossible.
I don't really know how to end this. I'm just frustrated
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crazy-pages · 1 year ago
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What are lasers?
Ohhh, this is a fun one! And surprisingly complicated. I am not sorry for how complicated this got.
Fun Fact
Laser is actually an acronym! It stands for
Light
Amplification by
Stimulated
Emission of
Radiation
But that doesn't tell you much, so what is a laser?
The simple story
If you have something that makes light (a gain medium) and you bounce light back and forth through it a bunch, it makes extra-special "coherent" light which can be focused more intensely than normal light. This is because light gets emitted from the gain medium in sync with the light which passes through it.
But that leaves out a lot of details. Like what being 'in sync' means here, why it matters, and why passing light through a gain medium makes the light the gain medium emits be in sync with it! And that's just to start!
Why do we want lasers in the first place?
So light has this thing called "phase". You can think of "phase" as a point on a circle which rotates as the light moves. (If you've learned about complex numbers, it's a rotating complex number with a magnitude of 1.) If two bits of light with the opposite phase overlap, they stop existing! This is called "destructive interference". If two bits of light with the same phase overlap, they double in power! This is called "constructive interference". (The gif shows you how phase is related to the distance light has traveled, the left image shows constructive interference, and the right shows destructive interference.)
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Now in practice light isn't a particle with a single phase, it's a big messy cloud with lots of differently rotated phases based on how far it's traveled from its origin. So two photons with "opposite" phase at one point might actually have different phase relationships at other points, destructively interfering in some places and constructively interfering in others. This is how light from a light bulb works. It's "incoherent", every photon has its own phase and they overlap in messy and complicated ways. (see figure below)
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And when you try to focus incoherent light down to a point, you can only focus it down so much! The focus point is this big mess of variously interfering photons and it puts a harsh limit on how focused it can all get. So your maximum intensity ends up being proportional to the square root of the number of photons you have! This means you could quadruple the amount of light you're emitting, and only get twice the intensity! You could multiply your amount of light by 100 and only get 10x the intensity! That sucks!
But coherent light is much easier to focus down, and can be focused to an intensity proportional to the number of photons! If you multiple your amount of light by 100, you actually do get 100x the intensity when you focus it down to a point. There's also a bunch of neat and tricky ways to measure the phase change of coherent light, called interferometry, in ways which let you measure really small distances. It's also easier to make it go straight for longer. So we really want coherent light! (like in the figure below)
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But ... how do we get it? Actually, why isn't all light coherent in the first place, huh?
Oscillating Electron States
So let's take an atom, and look at one of its valence (outermost) electrons. We poke this electron (maybe with a photon, maybe by running electricity through the atom) until it jumps up to a higher energy level, like this!
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Well eventually that electron will fall back down to its ground state and emit a photon of equivalent energy in the process. But ... why? Why does the electron want to be in a lower energy level?
Well, the thing is that electrons don't really exist in one state. They exist as a back-and-forth oscillation between pairs of states. Like a tide coming and going back out. We can talk about high tide vs. low tide, and whether the tide is in or out at any given moment, but tides don't really do static. Nor do electrons. An electron in its excited state is actually oscillating between: a) this excited state, b) the ground state + a photon to keep the energy balanced, c) actually every other excited state +/- a photon too. But what we care about is the oscillation between a) and b), which is typically strongest.
Spontaneous Emission
However while this is technically an oscillation, the moment the state looks like b) the ground state + a photon, well, photons move. At the speed of light. So it'll just blast off into the sunset (it is the sunset) never to be seen again, and unavailable to help lift the electron back into its excited state. So the "oscillation" really just looks like the excited photon slowly falling back down to its ground state, by going from a quantum superposition of: 100% excited state -> 75% chance of excited + 25% chance of ground state -> 50% chance of excited + 50% chance of ground state -> 25% chance of excited + 75% chance of ground state -> 100% chance of ground state (wait photon come back!) -> 100% chance of ground state -> 100% chance of ground state forever.
(Yes lasers are inherently quantum, but then again so are lightbulbs and everything else in existence.)
And when electrons emit photons like this, which is called 'spontaneous emission', the photons have a random phase and move in a random direction. This is because they're 'coupling' to the possibility of a photon contained in the vacuum, which doesn't have a notion of phase or direction. (Technically they actually emit as an impure quantum superposition of all phases and directions, but that's off-topic.)
Stimulated Emission
But what if there was already a photon in the background? Let's say we keep a steady stream of photons moving through and around the atom. Well now we get an actual oscillation going! When the excited electron reaches its ground state, it just picks up a new photon to complete its oscillation back to its excited state.
The oscillation is also fundamentally different. First off, it's stronger. Stimulated emission to a preexisting photon state happens much more quickly. But also, an oscillation to a preexisting photon state produces a photon in the same state! The emitted photon has the same phase and direction as the stream of photons in the background!!! Do this with a random stream of photons and they'll eventually all synchronize together!
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Huzzah! Now we have a laser, right?
We do not have a laser yet
HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
NO!
WE DO NOT HAVE A LASER YET!
Well now we get an actual oscillation going! When the excited electron reaches its ground state, it just picks up a new photon to complete its oscillation back to its excited state.
This! This is what dooms us! For every synced up photon the atom emits, it also eats one! We have a filter now, something we could repeatedly pass photons through to sync up their phase and direction, but frankly it would be very weak. It would take so many passes through a bunch of these atoms to sync up a bunch of photons, and imperfections and spontaneous emission (that's still happening sometimes, even if it's weaker than stimulated emission) would eat the photons up before that happens.
We would need something that emits more photons than it eats to make light, to make a proper laser.
But electrons oscillate between states, so they spend just as much time in the "eat a photon" stage as they do in the "emit a photon" stage. And for quantum math reasons, no single oscillation can produce a superposition with more excited states than ground states. So it's impossible, right?
Hah! We are physicists. The science isn't done until we've dragged the laws of nature into a dark alley and mugged them for all they're worth.
Mugging the laws of nature for fun and profit
So first we're going to need an atom whose valence electron has a ground state and three excited states which don't interact much with the electron's other states. (You can do this with three states as well, but it's trickier.) We're going to call a big group of these atoms a "gain medium". Now we're going to excite the gain medium, with a flashbulb or an electrical charge or a chemical reaction or whatever. This is called 'gain medium excitation' and it puts all of its valence electrons into an even oscillation between the ground state (the 1st state) and the most excited state of the excited states (the 4th state), like this.
(I made these following graphics and it shows 😅)
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Now, we need the 4th and 3rd states, and the 2nd and 1st states, to have very strong spontaneous emission oscillations between them. (And for good measure, that needs to be stronger between the 2nd and 1st states.)
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This means we end up with a crap-ton of electrons in the 3rd state, and any electrons which end up in the 2nd state immediately get slurped into the 1st state. This is called a 'population inversion', where there's waayyyyyy more electrons in an excited state than in a lower state, which isn't possible with only one pair of states involved.
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Now we insert one little bitty photon with the energy difference between those electron states and-
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BWAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
WE HAVE FIRED THE LASER!
(ish)
We have created a gain medium which outputs more photons than you put in, all synced up in phase and direction! You still need to feed that gain medium with gain medium excitation, but that's fine, even if we need to feed it with light. Because it's pretty easy to make tons of incoherent light, and what we get out is sweet sweet coherent light.
A Laser!!!
So there's a few more parts. We need a pair of mirrors to bounce light back and forth through the gain cavity. And we need one of those mirrors to be not quite perfectly reflective, so it'll let some of the light out. And we need to shape these mirrors very carefully to satisfy certain conditions, and there's also forms of coherence I haven't even mentioned here, like, there's a lot that goes into making lasers.
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But this is it! This is a laser!!!
You drag physics into a back alley and mug it for a material with the right four (or three) electron energy levels, excite those electrons, then put it between two mirrors (one very slightly transmissive) and let it go BWAAAAHHHHHHHHH. And then you get an intense beam of light which can be focused better than ordinary light.
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susidestroyerofworlds · 10 months ago
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what’s your favorite number
this is a really hard question. Its probably 2, since it makes for an amazing base and is just generally very useful, like, when you have a+a, which is common, that turns into 2a. It's also the successor to 1, making it the first number thats not just defined directly by axioms like 0 and 1 and rather a consequence.
2 is also aesthetically fun, the way it swoops at the top and then sits on a sturdy base, with both a round and a sharp corner. So, that's my answer,
2
But! If we go further we can find lots of other numbers I also love. 6 is a really nice number because its small but not "weird" in any immediate way. It's not an identity, it's not prime, it's not a square, etc. If you have a formula or something and you want to check it with a number 6 usually works without running into common edge cases.
Leaving the Naturals, -1 is an amazing integer. Really useful for anything that alternates, I love the roots of unity and it's the first nontrivial of those. All the roots of unity are pretty amazing tho, highly recommend.
Rising further we get to the Rationals, which are honestly kinda boring imo. Shoutout to ½ for being the reciprocal of 2 but that's it.
Now, shit is gonna get Real. The Reals are an amazing set, lots of useful properties, a really cool field (the Rationals are also a field but they suck so the Reals get to be the cool field). The Reals contain just about every number you normally interact with, including all-time highs such as pi or e. All algebraic and transcendental numbers are in here, including my favourite, sqrt(2). The square root of 2 is real cool. It's fun geometrically, being a factor of the length of the hypotenuse of a right triangle where the legs are the same length. It's cool algebraically as being the easiest to introduce number thats real but not rational, I have fond childhood memories of learning that the Reals are Dedekind complete (of course that word was only introduced in high school) with this beautiful number as the example. It's reciprocal is also really cool and useful. sqrt(2) even has its own Wikipedia article.
Leaving behind the Reals, the Complex Numbers are just fun as a category. No longer ordered, basically acting as if R² was a field, just really fun. I don't really have a favourite complex number but I am a sucker for units for i gets nominated as my favourite here. All complex numbers are really cool. Shoutout to |0> and |1> (ket-zero and ket-one) for being cool in quantum computing and being vectors in a space using the field of the complex numbers.
There is lots more sets but I am not familiar enough with numbers to even come close to doing them justice. I hope your questions is answered, have a nice day <3
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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 2 years ago
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Tw: maths sucks lol , reader freaking out over finals
Yves is a magnificent mathematician. He has a doctorate degree in his excelled academic field to prove it.
He could solve complex equations with more than five variables all in his head. He knows how to square root a non-square without a calculator. Yves is a walking, living, talking machine that can process mathematical problems at the speed of light. He needs to, if he wanted to predict the future as best as he could.
He knew this would happen. You showed up at his doorstep when the skies were pitch dark and so clear that you could see the stars twinkling above. You showed up at 2AM. Yves spent an hour secretly watching you take the bus and walk endlessly to his place, through various surveillance cameras. He released a sigh of relief when you entered his property safe and sound. Yves wished that you would have called him instead, he would have driven to your dorm and helped you. It would have taken him 20 minutes to get there.
You were drenched, because it suddenly started raining when you had to come here by foot, because the wealthy didn't like bus stops installed anywhere near their neighborhood. He found you hyperventilating, panicking and hysterically crying.
He pulls you in and cupped your right eye, spreading warmth over your sockets and strangely enough, making you feel... at ease. You calmed down almost immediately, confused as to what he did. So you asked him about it.
"It's a trick. Use it when it becomes noisy up here." He tapped your head.
Before you could explain yourself, he guided you towards the bathroom. He said the world can wait, you have to take a bath and dry up. Yves prepared a set of his clothes for you to wear, choosing not to remind you that you left spares of your own at his place.
You started freaking out again, exclaiming you have no time and you should have sought help from him earlier, verbally putting yourself down.
Yves covered your right eye again mid-sentence. Your brain was silent once more. What did he do?
With no reason at the moment to panic, you became speechless. Baffled that he could easily take the pain away in seconds. He slowly pried his hand away from your face and held your cheeks with both hands. It felt nice and tender, his thumb wiped the tears and rainwater away from your eyes.
"Go freshen up." He whispered. "I'll be waiting in my office." He assured, giving you a kiss on the forehead. Yves gave you privacy, shutting the door behind him.
He picked up your soaking wet bag, frowning at your ruined notes and other pieces of paper inside it. The rainwater is making a mess of his marble floors, he pulled out a plastic tub nearby, knowing that this would happen. Yves transferred it into the tub and began removing the items inside.
Your calculator is especially damaged. It wouldn't even turn on.
Yves brought everything with him to his office.
-
You came out of the steaming shower fresh and renewed. You love it here, everything feels really nice in Yves's home. You never shiver or sweat, it's quiet but not to the point you can hear your heartbeat and it smells nice too. The lights don't hurt your eyes and it's bright enough to see everything in detail. You took a deep breath, your lungs are at an all time clear when you come here. It really feels like a home. How does he do it?
You knocked on his door twice before entering. Yves is on his desk, reading the papers you brought. The ink has been muddled together and almost illegible, but he could make the numbers and words out just fine. He adjusted his rectangular framed glasses as he looked up at you. He always looked so handsome in those. But also menacing.
You started stammering, apologizing profusely for coming in so late (early in the morning?). You apologized for rudely brushing off the tutoring help he offered time and time again for the past few months. You obviously need it now.
"The trick."
You expressed a very audible 'what'? Yves brought his hand to his eye. You mirrored him then you felt a sense of peace wash over you.
He beckoned you to come to him. So you did, he remained seated in his chair while you stood right in front of him. His knees touching your thighs. Yves wordlessly slid his hands under the oversized shirt of his that you're wearing, letting his fingertips graze over your sides. It was ticklish, but pleasant. You felt... important enough for him to check on you like this.
He retracted his hands, gently held your chin in one and grasped your arm in another. He took his time examining your face.
"Have you been eating?" He knows you haven't. You would have starved to death if he didn't take the initiative to make your meals. Even that wasn't a foolproof plan, he would see you forgetting to eat at times. But you nodded.
"Have you been sleeping?" You're averaging 2 hours of sleep a day. Even if he saw you laying still on your bed, his sleep tracker he has on you and your eyebags said otherwise. You nodded.
You're lying. But there wasn't any point telling you that now.
He slid his hand down to your other arm. Lovingly rubbing them up and down as he asked you what he could do for you. He knows exactly what you need help with. But it wasn't nice to 'assume'.
You told him you needed his help teaching you everything you learned since the beginning of the year. You couldn't get anything at all and you let it fester. You only have two more days to cram 10 months worth of content.
As you speak, tears started welling up in your eyes again, your blood pressure is spiking and you tried removing your arms from his grip. Yves suddenly yanked you into his lap, constricting you in a warm embrace. You whined and ranted while he ran his fingers through your mildly matted hair.
It felt soothing, it felt safe. It felt like home.
Yves lets you tire yourself out, his other hand rhythmically patting your back. Eventually, you cease all movements and start to snore.
He carefully lifts you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style before getting up on his feet. Yves carried you all the way upstairs to his bedroom, where he laid you on the fluffiest pillows you ever felt. He tucks you in and brushes your hair away from your face. You poor thing. Still stressed in your sleep, he wiped away a stray tear.
Yves joined you in bed, propping his head up and resting a protective arm over your blanketed form. He watches you for a while.
-
You were awoken by a nightmare. Naturally, about failing your exams.
You're in his room. But he isn't in it. Yves must be downstairs keeping things in order. Then, the memories of why you came here in the first place came rushing back. You need to get some revision done.
You rushed out of the door only to body slam into Yves. He caught you before you fall.
Before you could peep a word, he hushed you. "Follow my count, breathe in."
You took a deep, long breath, watching his fingers uncurl from his fist.
"Hold." He counted to seven.
"Exhale." You released a shaky breath. Yves did this with you a few more times until he felt the pulse on your wrist slow down.
"Good morning." He greeted you with a smile. "How is my beloved feeling today?" He asked, playfully tickling under your chin. You stifled a giggle to tell him you have no time to waste. You need to start your revision as soon as possible. You demanded that he help you now.
He abruptly dropped his affectionate demeanor, stood up straight and stared you down. Eyes cold and face steely. Yves isn't pleased with how you talked to him.
You got the hint and stammered an apology. Backtracking and rephrasing your impolite words, thanking him for taking you in earlier today.
His expression softened, Yves wrapped an arm around your waist and urged you downstairs. Yves told you that he is preparing breakfast downstairs, you wouldn't be able to focus effectively if you run on an empty stomach.
"I'll meet you in my office." He kissed the top of your head as he gestured to you to use the bathroom.
-
Yves watched you with pity, he has his arms crossed, standing tall next to you. Peering over your hunched shoulders.
Your finals are in a few days, and you're sobbing over... quadratics out of all things. He knew you were struggling with your degree, you kept telling him that you're fine but your assignment grades and the hidden cameras showed otherwise.
He picks up the empty plates from the desk and sets them aside elsewhere, giving you more space to work with.
He turned his head to you when you called for him. You needed help with a question that you thought you could solve, but it is only worth a mark and you spent an hour on it. He put on his reading glasses and took a few seconds to read it.
Without judgement, without anger and without condescension, Yves began explaining skillfully. Using analogies he knows you would understand, at a pace where you could keep up. You listen attentively and have everything retained in your memory.
Yves is an excellent teacher. He is patient and most importantly, kind. Unlike many, he remembers how it is like learning about something for the first time, he remembers how lost and confused a person can feel. He emphasizes with you and does everything he can to help. Yves doesn't feel frustrated that you couldn't get it after the fourth, fifth or even twentieth time. He just glances to the side to make sure his cameras are recording, this is valuable data.
If you can't understand through one way of teaching, he will switch to another. Through trial and error, he finds a method that consistently allows you to grasp the concepts well.
Yves would handwrite custom revision exercises for you to do. While you're occupied with a sheet, he would sit on the couch, marking the ones you already finished.
At first, there were a lot of crosses, arrows and red circles. However, as you practice more and more, they turn into check marks, "well done" and "Very good".
Yves handed you your last worksheet and he wrote a "100%, Excellent" on the top of it. He glanced at the stack of marked papers right next to him, it has gotten quite tall. You're overjoyed and relieved, finally getting the hang of your course. You knew you could always count on Yves to help you through your studies.
And to feed you. And to clean you. And to shelter you...
So you thought it would be right to repay him with a kiss. He accepted it and gave you a couple back, chuckling as he ruffled your hair. You let his silky strands brush against your cheek.
He mumbled in your neck how proud he is of you. Yves expressed his appreciation towards your resilience and hard work, stating that he couldn't have done it without your willingness to study. It was lovely having someone recognize your efforts too.
Yves told you that he needs to log on and work for today. He tells you to take a break, because you deserve it and it isn't productive to keep working when you're exhausted. You're only going to make a lot more mistakes by doing so.
You believed him, partly because you think he is the smartest person you ever met. And partly because you're sick of studying too, you would very much rather do something else.
You have him one last hug before bolting out of his office.
Yves checked the cameras to confirm that you're out of earshot before switching his phone on.
He dialed a phone number that he already knows by heart. Yves brought his phone up to his ear and politely greeted your professor on the other side of the line, he didn't mince his words and brought up a five digit figure. His tutoring isn't going to be enough.
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kings-highway · 6 months ago
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About complex math formulas: What's the life purpose of a Square Root™?
see the square root exists as an interesting little conundrum. fundamentally, it needs to fulfill it's roll as being part of an equation, but in every important way it can only do this by knowing itself and understanding itself far beyond what is expected of the average number. when we are not asking someone to find and identify a square root, we are setting the square root up with itself to multiple. such an existence is bound to end up dizzingly stressful. you ask "what is the function of a square root" whereas the square root has to ask itself "what am I." if a square root cannot find itself, cannot understand itself and merge with itself and multiply into a square, it serves no function. if it cannot do this, it is merely a number. it serves no purpose beyond it's ability to be known to itself. and when it is not in this position, when it's square already exists and it has found a way to understand itself, people will come questioning it. "find the square root," they will demand, as the square root stands and waits to be found and hopes whatever finds it is not disappointed in what it is and what it might become. "the purpose of a square root" exists only to be judged and to judge itself, constantly seeking something only itself can provide. so I ask you, why do you care what the function of a square root is? have they not asked themselves that very question enough already?
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aliusfrater · 4 months ago
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hi! i really love reading your thoughts about pretty much anything sam-related, i just had a question, don't know if you already did it, but could you explain some of your tags? (like ® is for posts relating to sam and lucifer if i'm not wrong) if not that's okay too!
hi :3 i'm glad we share interpretations !! ive posted about this in a bit of detail before but for how i choose symbols that represent relationships for reblog tags, i usually just operate mostly off of general vibe lmfao
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like ™ is self explanatory. √ for sam and jack because squared or root numbers are different versions of themselves. π for sam and john because it extends forever and sam perpetually finds himself beneath authoritative position adjacent to john's; pie's also an irrational number that cannot be expressed exactly as a ratio of two integers which i think very adequately describes the complexity of sam and john's relationship that's typically overlooked by the fandom in favour of john and dean's or misrepresentations of them. = for sam and mary because they're the mirrored characters who were never properly able to express their similarities directly to each other in canon, kind of like how parallel lines never meet. { and } were initially entirely vibe lmfao but incidentally represent 'opposing' forces in season four. ® is a registered trademark symbol; self explanatory. × because of the role dean devolves into and how its related to john. and ↓ because of the influence dean has on jack's perception of the world
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