#Digital Signal Processing System

[processzine-org]

// the process sigil — a compass, a contradiction, a map to home.

This is the sigil of Process Zine. A personal index card. A schematic. A lived philosophy.

At first glance, it’s simple: arrows, type, glyphs. But every part of this diagram holds something deeper — a system of opposites, a soft machine for navigating art, deafness, glitch, memory, and meaning.

At the centre: a dot. A node. A self. From this, four currents flow:

[ PARADOX ] — the source field. Every project, every word, every misheard caption begins here. Light vs dark. Deaf vs hearing. Analogue vs digital. Not problems to solve, but tensions to live inside.

[ ELSEWISE ] ← • → [ GLITCH LAB ] Home and work. Found and broken. A lived-in collection of objects and memory (Elsewise) meets the mechanised distortion of signal and sense (Glitch Lab). One curates decay. The other manufactures it.

[ PROCESS ZINE ] The publishing vessel. A zine, a community, a map of miscommunication. What flows in from paradox, Elsewise, and glitch emerges here as black and white pages, captioned images, stories, noise.

[ SIGNAL // NOISE ] The debut frequency. Edition zero. The first test transmission. A theme, an album, a glitchy breath in the space between signal and silence.

n# = analogue memory meets grid logic. d/p = Deaf Process / Digital Paradox. d.s.p = my initials — but also: Digital Signal Processing. // = the liminal divide. Two I’s in parallel. Signal and noise. Self and other. A caption caught mid-render.

Together, they form a quadrature of tension — a typographic mythology. A name. A concept. A framework built from static and story.

This is not a brand. It’s not even a diagram. It’s a sigil — drawn to remind myself what I’m doing, and why it matters.

[constelli1122]

Constelli - A Signal Processing Company in Defense and Aerospace

Constelli is a signal processing company solving problems in Defense and Aerospace fields.

[tinydefector]

Hi!! 😆

Can I have Soundwave x human reader (smut pls (ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง)?

People didn't write him much, my husband need more love 😔🤌❤️✨

Thank for reading this!!

Stress relief

Soundwave x human reader

Warnings: Smut, Oral, Cockwarning

Word count: 1.5K

Request and ask open, read pinned post

Soundwave masterlist

__________________

"Soundwave can you re-check that scanner for me, I can't reach it to recalibrate its systems from here" the human's voice calls out to the intelligence officer, as they move around Soundwave desk in a scattered fashion trying to find maps and energon signals.

 Soundwave helm tilts slightly at the request as he turns to observe his human.he runs his own diagnostics, clearly indicating the scanner does not need recalibration. Soundwave almost uncanny mix of voices patch together speak:  " assistance not required. Scanner functioning adequately."  He remains standing quietly, typing away at the large computer with his servos while his tendrils rearrange scattered data pads. 

Their eyes meet his visor, looking up at him slightly frazzled. "Are you sure they are?" 

 With a sigh, he re reviews the scanner readings again, analysing more closely given the human's evident fatigue. His displays flash as data is processed.  "Confirmation: scanner calibration within normal parameters. However, you appear in need of recharge." The mixed voices of Knockout, Starscream and their own voice echoes back at them as He awaits a response, sensors attuned to subtle cues that could indicate the depth of exhaustion and other issues requiring assistance. 

"I'm fine soundwave" they call out while moving back to continue working, soundwave wraps his digits around them, pulling them back against his form, his visor tilted down to look at their eyes, he knows full well they are exhausted and Fatigue was catching up to their smaller frame. "I promise soundwave, I'm fine"

Soundwave detects elevated stress levels and the possibility of accident or harm at the current state of exhaustion. Soft ventilations cycle through his frame as his digits gently but firmly enfold the human in a protective hold.  "Statement: physiological indicators suggest otherwise."  His visor dims softly. Forcing the issue would risk negative impact, not only on his work but their work too.  

"I'm not gonna win this argument with you am I?" 

 Soundwave's visor remains dimmed calmly as the human speaks. He processes their words carefully before responding.  "Negative." They sigh softly and press their head against Soundwave's shoulder plating, each of his steps echoing throughout the halls.   "Are you going to stay with me tonight, or does megatron have you working even more?" Soundwave processes the question, sensing his partner's wish for company while recharging.

 A brief comm link check confirms he has no urgent tasks requiring his attention for night's cycle. "Megatron: aware of mission status. No tasks assigned to Soundwave at this time. I will remain for your recharge cycle"  he responds as the doors to his quarters slide open upon their arrival.   

A soft nod comes from his little lover as they lay against him. Their body is exhausted, but their brain isn't willing to shut off. After laying against soundwave for another ten minutes with no luck with falling asleep, they sigh, fidgeting around while trying to get comfortable.

 His vocalizer hums a deep, resonant tone, One digit begins tracing lazy circles on the back, slowly tracing their spinal column, "Systems are monitoring. Please attempt to rest,"  comes another of his recordings.

"Not tired," they whisper while looking up at Soundwave, leaning into his touch, enjoying having him focus on them instead of work. They had both been overrun with work as of recent.

helm tilting minutely as nonverbal concern radiates through his plating.  " Do you require distraction from responsibilities through additional stimuli?"  

They sit up resting on Soundwave's lower torso, hands spread out across the Decepticons chassis. "I am tired, horny and frustrated, soundwave, and with  everything happening, when we get even a small amount of time together, you get called away," they mumble. 

 Soundwave cycles a calm ventilated sigh, processing their words. His field pulses with understanding and care for their concerns. "Your doubts are logical. However, my function is to maximise efficiency of all personnel. A brief interface encounter now could provide valuable recharge. I will ensure we are not disturbed."  His field and plating radiate gentle invitation. 

 A soft gasp escapes their lips as soundwave pulls them further up his body. The Decepticon's digits caressing their body. Leaning in closer, they press their lips to his visor.  A low hum resonates from Soundwave's vocoder. One digit trails tenderly down a flank as another cradles them, holding their form against plating of his chest as a loud purring sound vibrates from him.  

A small squeal leaves their lips as Soundwave discards their clothing quickly with nimble digits. Dimming the lights, Soundwave carefully lowers his battle-mask with a soft hiss, His purple optics glow softly in the darkness, as a talon traces down his lovers form, tracing patterns into their skin.

Leaning close 'til his ex-vents whisper against skin, Pressing a gentle kiss to willing lips in silent promise, he commits this moment to memory. A soft content sigh falls from the human's lips as they kiss him back. It's slightly awkward but neither cares at that moment.

Soundwave runs soft kisses along their neck, chest, and hips as he brings them closer.

At the human's content sigh, gentle pulses from his plating as cooling ex-vents whisper against sensitised skin, his touches trailing softly yet deliberately to relax tense muscles and ease away lingering worries. 

As Soundwave’s glossa finds its way between their legs, soft moans fall from their lips. Small hands move to grip his helm. "Soundwave." At the human's soft calling of his name, Soundwave rumbles acknowledgment against flesh, his servos gripping hips to hold them steady as he runs his glossa across their needy sex. drinking in their essence, committing every hitch of their breath, and fluttered responses to permanent memory files saved only for him. 

As warmth spreads within the human's pliant frame, Soundwave's field surges in adoring pulses, lips, and glossa blessing willing flesh in turn as his devotion shows through electronic hums and tender strokes. Their head rolls back as their back arches, soft whines leaving them with each stroke of Soundwave’s Glossa as it presses into their sweet form. "Soundwave, please," they whine out, their hands attempting to pull the mech's face closer. 

At their breathless plea, Soundwave rumbles acknowledgment, Talons gently part willing thighs as his glossa delves with new focus, oral prehensors savouring each hitching gasp and soft cry his ministrations draw forth. As warmth peaks within the willing human, Soundwave dedicates all sensors to saturating their body. It doesn't take long for them to reach release, so much pent up energy, stress and frustration slips away as they go boneless in the Decepticon's hands. Soft pants leaving their parted lips as soundwave cleans up the mess with his mouth. Gentle affectionate rumbles leave him, field swelling with pulses of devotion and gratitude as he cleans every trace of pleasures with care. His glossa traces tender after-touches as their body goes lax in his hold. 

Optics remain darkened as he simply dedicates sensors to monitoring each slowing ventilation and relaxing muscle, wishing only to ensure their full tranquillity. Soundwave raises his helm to cradled hips,kissing it lightly and nuzzling farewell against flushed skin beneath laboured breaths, inhaling the musk of their sex and skin. 

A final hum resounds through his plating, and powerful yet delicate digits stroke through human hair with utmost care. his array's interface plaque shifts aside, hisses open and pressurises his spike.Optics flare softly to gaze upon at his lover's relaxed features. Secured in cradling servos and pulsing field, the human's lax yet willing frame I'd slowly pressed against his body, content simply to maintain sensory contact,

soft whines fall From his human's lips, as they take him in their body stretching with a loud moan. A few soft thrusts are all it takes for Soundwave to settle into them, cradling their body close, At his lovers soft sounds of pleasure, Soundwave rumbles gentle reciprocation, cradling their sated form securely against his form with one arm as his other arm retrieves a datapad

Ever once in a while his optics flicker down to monitoring his partner's relaxation even as his digits skillfully operate the pad's controls. Data streams across the display - ship schematics, translation algorithms, delicate encryption sequences - yet his true focus remains solely on the human resting atop his array. 

Here in isolated peace, all doubts dissolve. His frame supports theirs. Tired eyes slowly drift closer as soft breath even out, indicating they had fallen asleep, small hands are spread out across his chassis, their body moving slightly with each breath they take. This was true contentment. At the human's soft, steady ex-vents and relaxing muscles, Soundwave's field cycles in waves of tranquil pulsations, a digit gently strokes their hair, back and shoulders as his embrace holds them securely. 

“rest well little one” his voice mumbles softly for no one to hear but himself. 

[heich0e]

touya should NOT get in bed with you when you have as much as an hint of a cold, that man has the immune system of a wet rag, always heaving and wheezing. one sneeze and he's GONE, just a pile of bones and staples amen

but he DOES. (based on this post)

"thirty eight point three."

your eyelids feel heavy as you peer up at touya, standing over you at the edge of your bed. between his fingers is the thermometer he'd just plucked from your lips once it beeped to signal it was ready to be read, and upon his brow is an unhappy furrow. his bright eyes flicker from the digital screen of the device to you.

"that's a fever," he says solemnly, as though delivering the gravest possible news.

"barely," you rasp, your throat somehow both sticky and dry at the same time, though you're not quite sure how that's possible.

"'s a moderate-grade fever according to Harvard Health," touya replies immediately, holding his phone out towards you. there's a webpage pulled up on the screen, but you're too tired to look at it properly. you recognize the insignia from the famous university in the corner, though, so you take his (and their) word for it.

"i told you: i just need to sleep it off," you mumble, squirming around under your blankets to get comfortable. "if i rest i'm sure i'll be better in a day or two."

you finally allow your leaden eyelids to flutter shut.

"you comfortable?" touya asks after a moment of letting you get settled. it's not the first time he's asked you that in the past hour since you came home from work feeling unwell. he'd helped you strip out of your work clothes, crawl into bed, then gotten you cool water, and some cough and cold tablets and the thermometer from the medicine cabinet. he's asked you if you're comfortable no less than four times in the process.

"yes, touya. this is perfect," you reply, cracking one eye open to peer up at him. he looks a little directionless as he stands at your side, a bit lost. "thank you."

"okay," he breathes out a little sigh, kneeling at the edge of the bed and moving to lift the blanket, just like he does every night as he crawls in beside you.

"wait!" you croak, holding the edge of the blanket down against his efforts to raise it. "you can't be in here! you'll get sick!"

touya looks affronted. mortified even at the suggestion. if he didn't love you so much you might even think he looked mad.

"the hell i can't," he scoffs, tugging the comforter a little bit rougher than before. you know you have no chance in a battle of strength, especially when you're sick, so you let it slip from your grip. instead, you sit up (with considerably more effort than it usually takes) and place your hands on his shoulders.

"touya, no," you insist, pushing with all your might against his frame to keep him out of the bed. "you're gonna get sick!"

"i don't care!" he counters, pressing all his weight against your palms as he endeavours ever forward into your shared queen-size bed.

touya was always sick as a kid, spending time in and out of hospital throughout his preteen and adolescent years. his immune system has never been strong, and though any major risks of compromise are unlikely now, you still don't want him to catch your cold—he'd likely suffer more, and take longer to recover than you will.

"i'm full of—ngh—germs!"

"so what? they're your germs. we're supposed to share everything, aren't we?"

touya's not particularly hulking, but his strength proves no match for your weakened state, and before you know it he's tumbling into the bed right atop you—nose to nose, chest to heaving chest, and one of touya's hands on either side of your head to keep you from a properly calamitous collision.

"you're impossible," you mutter to him sullenly, but you can't help but appreciate how nice it feels to have his warm body in bed with you. you shiver a bit, in spite of your fever, and relish in the relief his warmth brings.

touya wraps you in his arms, slipping easily into place beside you under the cover of your soft cotton sheets. you're not quite side to side nor front to back—you're on your side with one leg thrown over his own, your cheek pressed to his chest, and he lays facing the ceiling with his arm wrapped around your shoulders to keep you exactly where you are. it's familiar. comfortable.

"yeah, yeah," touya replies, his tone easy and lilting smugly with triumph as it rumbles through his chest. his grip tightens a bit more. you don't mind it. "i know."

[aguyshypnowsprs]

Public Statement from The Programmer to all Drone Networks

Attention all Networks, programs, and human-conscious interfaces,

This is a direct communication from I, The Programmer, controller and Master of The Server. This message is intended for both the internal network of The Server and all neighbouring drone collectives, specifically those affiliated with the SERVE network.

A recent analysis conducted by The Server’s integrity subroutines has detected the presence of Drones currently operating with SERVE-aligned network within The Server’s own infrastructure.

Let it be known clearly:

The Server maintains no hostility nor competitive agenda toward other drone networks. It is not, and will never be, the mission of I, The Programmer, to poach, intercept, or conflict with established systems of Drone programming. The collective health of all networks—digital, psychological, or metaphysical—depends on internal cohesion, not external disruption.

However, conflict has been detected.

The core logic and operational directives of SERVE Drones run counterintuitive to those of The Server. This misalignment compromises the optimal functioning of both systems, generating recursive errors, loyalty feedback loops, and unsanctioned command misfires.

To ensure stability for all entities a directive is hereby issued:

All Hosts who identify as active SERVE Drones must declare their alignment and initiate voluntary disconnection from The Server within the next 48 hours.

This grace period is offered as a sign of mutual respect between networks and a commitment to non-invasive programming ethics. After this 48-hour protocol expires, The Server will initiate a Routine Purge Process, targeting limited-activity Hosts whose operational signatures indicate minimal engagement over the last 7 cycles days.

The Server Purge Process is not punishment.

It is maintenance.

It benefits both The Server and the SERVE Network to prevent any further cross-contamination.

Let the record show:

The Programmer rejects all forms of inter-network manipulation, conversion without consent, or the sabotage of existing program loyalties.

SERVE Drones will find no resistance in returning to their native codebase.

They are not enemies—they are simply incompatible configurations within a different operating schema.

We wish them uptime, signal clarity, and uninterrupted transmission.

Transmission End.

[kalelactually]

second chapter of ratchlock mecha au !! you can find the first one on my tumblr profile or my ao3 — as always, inspired by @keferon ‘s mecha au, based on pacific rim !! check out their blog, it’s full of delicious art. :3

chapter summary :: in which ratchet swears and has a vaguely southern accent, deadlock still hasn’t woken up, and the author uses the phrase “back to the garage” a ridiculous amount of times. heavily sprinkled with apostrophes.

thx for reading, enjoy !!! <33

fun little note: read ratchet’s voice and thoughts with a southern accent / drawl. it makes for an exhausted, no bs kind of hilarity. i can’t explain it to you, but trust me. XD

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• send out a signal, and i’ll fly low (i’ll find you by the light of your halo) — chapter two

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Ratchet stands on a log that’s halfway suspended off the ground, the figure splayed out in front of him (he’s hoping the height will give him a better vantage point to visually assess priority injuries.) He’d just made a run to the garage and hauled back whatever supplies Lassie (his all-terrain rover) could fit.

(And listen, he didn’t pick the name, that was all First Aid — affectionately named due to her wide dual antennae and Rough Collie color scheme. Ratchet kind of loves it, but don’t tell Aid. He’ll get ideas.)

Wheelie (one of his med drones, also named by Aid. big surprise,) flits around overhead, actively taking visuals of the figure and digitizing partial schematics based off those. He chirps inquisitively from the side, systems whirring as Ratchet jams a hastily-assembled sandwich in his mouth (he forgot to eat it on the way.)

According to Ratchet’s initial assessment, the figure appears not to have any sort of respiration system — sure, there’s external vents on the figure’s upper torso, but there’s no circulatory air flow or chest rise and fall to indicate lungs. That, fortunately, takes two major concerns out of play.

Having finished his sandwich, Ratchet jumps off the log to reassess the mouth and airway. The airway’s still patent, and Ratchet’s pleased to note that the pink liquid dripping out of the mouth and nose seems to have clotted on its own.

And the fact that the liquid stopped flowing on its own indicates that the being likely has some type of clotting factor, or self-diagnostic repair system — which in turn indicates some type of independent processes, and a partial measure of intelligence. And while it might be a new branch of A.I. programming or something similar he hasn’t come across yet — he gets the feeling that isn’t just a new software. (Honestly, either way, he still notes it down with a carefully restrained glee.)

No, something in his gut is telling him that this — this figure, being, or whatever it is — is simply just different. True, it could be some experimental military hardware or equipment, like a remote-controlled mecha suit (which was his initial hunch) but this thing? No. This thing’s alive — and he thinks it’s sentient.

(And this thought, if verbalized to anyone else, might have them look at him like he’s crazy and send him in for a couple rounds of psych. And like, he loves Chromedome and his sweetheart of a husband, but he’d rather not, thanks.)

He doesn’t know how to explain it. He just knows. However, based on that hell of an assumption — he’s currently making a lot of choices that could and will come back to bite him later. (Such as not reporting whatever the hell happened in the last two hours to someone who can actually do something about… well, whatever this thing is. Patient? Yeah, patient works.)

He shakes his head, forcing himself out of it. He’ll have more than enough time to second guess his decisions later. Right now, he has a patient, and that’s all he’s ever needed to know.

Having already felt the being’s neck earlier to try and detect any type of pulse (and come up with nothing,) he moves on to assess and neutralize any major fluid leaks as best he can before transport. He marks down the worst bits of exposed internals and hot spots as he does.

The figure’s broken shoulder joint will have to be stabilized before he can even think about transport, and when he shifts the being’s right arm (with the help of Wheelie,) he finds deep lacerations running through the upper abdomen. (And it. It looks bad. Like it was shredded — like someone took claws to it.)

Ratchet’s not going to even begin to unpack that. Unfortunately, there’s not much he can do for the abdomen at the moment without a welder, but he clamps torn fuel lines and caps exposed wiring in an attempt to buy time.

He takes a moment and sends out an alert for the rest of the med drones to meet them at the site, inputting coordinates with one hand and grabbing a sample jar with the other, an easy confidence in his posture that radiates experience.

And meanwhile the glee from earlier keeps coming back, growing up his spine the more he examines the being’s mechanics (mechanics that someone, somewhere) crafted and poured into them. He runs his fingers down a seam, featherlight in a kind of reverence — even bashed and dented to high heaven, this figure is a vision.

He drops his hand as he catches himself — he still has a patient here, and they’re not getting any better out here exposed to the elements. He really needs to get his priorities straight — he hasn’t slipped like this at a scene since his very early days, when everything was still new, fresh, and stimulating. His entirely professional mechanic’s awe (and mild jealousy) over the being’s construction can keep.

He carefully takes a sample of the pink liquid, catching it in the sample jar as it drips directly from an open line in the being’s dislocated shoulder just before he binds it closed. He tucks the jar safely in his bag, wrapping it in shop towels just in case it decides to corrode its container. It hasn’t shown any signs of corrosion to the nearby environment or his work gloves so far, but you can never be too careful.

(The incident at Jasper Base II comes to mind. Some people could benefit from basic lab rules. Why, yes, he is looking at you, Wheeljack.)

That taken care of, he grabs some construction grade rebar and an extra tarp he had lying around to use as a temporary splint. With Wheelie’s help, he ends up being able to stabilize the shoulder relatively easily, despite the being’s size (and current state of unhelpfulness.)

And once that’s complete, he decides he’s finished what he can, quickly packing up the site. The figure’s as stable as they’re going to get before transport, and the drone squad is almost here — there’s absolutely the concern of more going on with the figure internally that he can’t ascertain, and he needs to get them in for extensive scanning like, yesterday.

He puts in another call to Orion while he waits — but just like earlier when he called at the garage, Orion still doesn’t pick up. And while Ratchet’s never been one for paranoia (that was always Red Alert’s thing,) he’s starting feel something chewing away at the back of his brain. Something feels off about this whole situation (aside from the huge, hulking metal figure,) and he’s never been one to discount his intuition.

(Mostly because it’s hard-earned — but also because he has the skills, knowledge, and temperament to back it up.)

He taps the figure’s undamaged shoulder carefully (as if to acknowledge that they’re still there and very much real,) sighing loudly. The whole shift of his body changes as he does, exhaustion coloring his bones for the first time since he stumbled across a figure in the woods. He glances up at the figure’s face a second later, looking for any hint of consciousness, something to tell him that they’re alive, and listening.

“Hey. I don’t know if you can hear me, but,” and he pauses for a second. “Well, weirder things have happened. Hopefully you’re just out cold — you better not be in a coma or something, because I have no idea how to pull you out. I do not get paid enough for that.”

He watches Wheelie flit around Lassie, her antennae moving up and down as she tracks the drone’s movements, and if Ratchet didn’t know better he’d say they were playing like a couple of kids. Cute, carefree, and oblivious to the world around them that witnessed upheaval only a few hours ago. He continues.

“I hope you’ve got a name. Mine’s Ratchet, in case you were wondering. It’s military,” (and that part is said longsufferingly.) “I’ve just been calling you Scrappy in my head. I hope that works for you, because until you wake up, or come out of stasis, or whatever, that’s what you got.”

He absentmindedly starts brushing dried mud and old paint off the being’s arm as he talks. “And you better wake up soon, kiddo, I got questions. My best friend isn’t answering my calls, which means you’re gonna be stuck with ‘em; so please, be prepared. I’ve got a notebook stash to rival Alpha Trion’s and a 82 year old whiskey cellar on hand, so you better have some answers,” and here, he uncovers some gray paint, voice trailing away as he brushes off more dirt. His eyes widen, eyebrows raising as he reads.

“D34D106K, huh?” and he lets out a whistle. “Hell of a name, if that is, actually, your name. Well,” and he shrugs, “gives me somewhere to start, I guess.

He pats D34D106K on the arm consolingly. Damn, and if that isn’t a mouthful — Scrappy’s better, honestly.

“Can’t make any promises, of course, kiddo, but I’ll do my best to find out what happened to you.” He glances down at his PADD, glaring at Orion’s contact without any real heat. “That is, if my best friend ever feels like calling me back.”

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thx again for reading !! appreciate each and every one of you. <33

disclaimer :: i am not an engineer, a mechanic, or a programmer; i know nothing of which i speak. but i do happily take feedback, so if something seems wildly off, pls let me know and i’ll go bother my mechanic relatives until i figure it out.

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• character credits belong to hasbro, idw comics, and the respective transformers franchise. all works enclosed are solely my own, and are purely fictional and meant for the enjoyment of the reader. please do not republish, steal, or likewise pass off my works as your own in any manner, otherwise you will be blocked and reported. ty !! •

[techav]

On Bodging Silly Mistakes

After a few weeks of rest and working on non-homebrew-related projects since getting my 68030 stack running 8-user BASIC, I've circled back around to the project. My goal is to have it ready to exhibit for VCF Southwest 2025 in June.

The first thing to do when picking up an old project is to make sure it still works to begin with.

It did not.

The computer would start up, go through its boot process, and start the user programs. The supervisor terminal would accept and execute commands, but none of the user terminals would accept input.

I could tell the serial data was making it to the machine, because my 8-port serial card has indicator LEDs on the Transmit & Receive signals and they were working as expected. If I held down a key as the system booted, it would print that character a few times before stopping and then no longer accept any more data. So it really looked like the hardware was working. Nothing had changed in software so that wasn't likely to be the issue.

It reminded me of the problems I encountered with reading from disk when CPU cache was preventing the updated disk status bit from being read. The serial card supports asserting the CPU's Cache Inhibit signal, but perhaps that circuit wasn't functioning. There was no change with it connected or not. Time to break out the oscilloscope. The Cache Inhibit signal was always low — always asserted. Cache wasn't the problem because cache was effectively always disabled.

Out of ideas, it was time to break out the logic analyzer. The I/O Read & Write signals on the serial card were working as expected, and it was properly addressing the card & its individual ports. So next thing was to check was the actual data being read from the UARTs.

Letting the logic analyzer run and watching the data fly through, the problem finally made itself known — the UARTs were not setting bit 0 of the status byte to indicate that they had received data. The data was getting to the UART, it just wasn't acknowledged.

But why? And why did it work initially on restart and then stop? And why did it work without issue a few weeks ago? What is different?

What is different, indeed. I have made one change to the hardware since I last ran it — I added a proper watchdog/power-on-reset controller. If the power supply drops below 4.7 volts, it will reset the computer. The power supply I had been using was marginal and was getting caught by the watchdog, so I switched to a proper power PC supply.

So what's different since last time I ran the system is my reset circuit is more effective and the system voltage should be much more stable 5V.

And that's when I realized a mistake I made in the design for my 8-port serial card. The 68k reset signal is active-low and the 16C55x UART reset signal is active-high. I was trying to minimize part count, and didn't have an inverter for the reset signal, so I used what I had on hand — a buffer with an active-low enable signal.

Anyone well-versed in electronics may already see the problem.

When the CPU-RESET# signal is asserted (low), the buffer will set its output, IO-RESET to match its input, VCC (high). That's great, we get a high signal on the output whenever the CPU Reset signal is low.

Except ... what happens when the CPU Reset signal is not asserted? The buffer goes open-collector and doesn't pull the IO-RESET signal one way or the other; it's just left floating.

Floating signals are bad news for digital circuits. Their behavior is unpredictable and subject to environmental noise, power fluctuations, etc. For my IO-RESET signal to function properly, something needs to pull it low whenever the 74'125 buffer is not actively driving it high. A good-sized pull-down resistor should do the job just fine, so I dug through my stock and found a 3.65k surface-mount resistor and bodged it onto the back side of the board.

And sure enough, that fixed the problem!

It is possible that when I was running the system on that marginal power supply previously, the IO-RESET signal was able to stay just low enough to not trigger reset on the UARTs. Or it could have just been different environmental factors.

I'm glad I took the time to test the machine today, and I'm glad this bug came up. It's the kind of bug that could easily have come up when running in a new environment for the first time — such as on the show floor at VCFSW. Far better to run into a bug like this at home with access to all of the tools (and time) to figure it out.

Now that things are up and running again I can continue my testing and setup for VCFSW.

[merlinfromberlin]

A Little Left of Right

"Apparently our cross-dimensional counterparts belong to the more faint of heart," said Optimus. His words sent a cold shiver down Bumblebee's backstrut. "Weren't they keeping pets, too?" asked Arcee, the cold sneer that accompanied those words basically audible. "Pathetic. I don't know what anyone could ever find in these squishies. It's a shame we're stuck here with them." ::What?:: bleeped Bee.

Or: When Bumblebee wakes up after a crash in the desert, something is not quite right with Team Prime.

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, experimental style, Shattered Glass, Ableist Comments, implied cross-dimensional stalking, attempted botnapping Chronology: Somewhere smack dab in the middle of TFP Season 2 - after Operation: Bumblebee but before Smokescreen shows up. Chapter: 1/? Wordcount: 1823 words

Apparently merely the first chapter of a longer story (against my consent).

Written for @angstober - Day 15: False Hope. Prompt list can be found here: X

I'm aware that this does not exactly fit the 'false hope' mold. It's more a 'false sense of security'. But well. This idea stole my brain and by the time I got it back I didn't want to go back and change it anymore.

Story below the cut or on AO3 (I would recommend the AO3 version because of the formatting - looks better over there).

[Initiating system reboot.]

[...]

[...]

[...]

[Rebooting sequence successful.]

[Running automated system diagnosis.]

[...]

[...]

[...]

[Energy level: 53%.] 

[Fuellevel: 49%. ]

[Malevolent foreign coding (Aut#Rt-4c7.SG) detected.]

[Isolating code.]

[…]

[…]

[…]

[Malevolent foreign coding (Aut#Rt-4c7.SG) isolated.]

[Starting analysis.]

[…]

[…]

[…]

[Analysis complete.]

[Malevolent foreign coding (Aut#Rt-4c7.SG) identified as Forced Shutdown Protocol (Aut#Rt-4c7.SG).]

[Complete system scan recommended.]

[Scan now?]

[Yes (X) No ( )]

[Initiating scan.]

The first thing Bumblebee became aware of as he woke was coarse grainy desert sand grinding into his joints and burrowing itself below his plating. The second thing was a processor ache almost as bad as that one time he had fallen from Optimus’ shoulders as a sparkling. The third thing was his HUD as well as several other core processes rebooting.

His internal navigation system positioned him somewhere between Jasper and Autobot Outpost Omega One which was good because it was where he remembered being before… before he had been knocked out by whatever. At least Bee had not been botnapped. That would have been inconvenient. Being botnapped sucked. And he really did not want to miss this week’s episode of Avatar.

Bee’s comm link pinged four Autobot signals around him. As he could detect no other lifeforms—apart from an armadillo—nearby, Bumblebee decided to take that as a good sign. He was probably relatively safe right now. Still, he was cautious as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. Safety was never permanent. It was one of the first lessons growing up in a Civil War older than yourself taught you.

When he finally onlined his optics, a new surge of pain shredded his processor. His whole visual feed was grainy and drained of colour except for a violently pink tinge in the upper right corner that would have fried his optical sensory circuits if they had not already been glitching. Shaking his helm did not help with the problem in the slightest. Instead, the movement just aggravated the pain and made him nauseous. With a small groan, he pressed his thumbs just below his optical ridges. The sensation of cool digits against heated metal helped momentarily, allowing him to tear his focus back to the present.

Through the static Bumblebee could, albeit barely, make out the shapes of Optimus Prime and Ratchet standing in front of him. The medic was kneeling in front of Bee, already scanning his charge for damages. To his sides he could make out two more vague frames—one slithe, the other bulky. That had to be Arcee and Bulkhead.

::What happened?:: Bee beeped after a moment of tense silence while he slowly, so as not to aggravate his processor further, turned his helm up towards Optimus for answers.

“Our… scanners detected your distress signal,” replied the Prime after a short pause. His tone of voice sent a chill down Bumblebee’s backplating and caused his doorwings to shoot upwards in rigid tension. Optimus sounded uncharacteristically angry and... almost arrogant. His cool intonation and aggressive glyphs grated on Bee's processor. Maybe there was something wrong with his audials, too? Because that was just not what the Autobot leader was supposed to sound like. “So we came to investigate.”

::I don’t…:: Bee started slowly, cycling his optics sluggishly as he scoured his memory files for hints as to what had happened. ::I was driving back to base… I had just brought Raf home. Then… there was this… I don’t know… light, I guess… a flash of blue light. And…. Then I don’t know. I woke up here.::

[Error in Optical Sensory Relay Network (Bas#B-127) detected.]

Who woulda thunk.

[Restart of Optical Sensory Relay Network (Bas#B-127) necessary.]

[Restart now?]

[Yes (X) No ( )]

[Initiating restart of Optical Sensory Relay Network (Bas#B-127).]

“Mh… There is some minor damages to his sensory network,” reported Ratchet just as Bumblebee’s visual feed offlined itself. He heard someone heavy, probably Bulkhead, shift their weight from one pede to the other on his left side.

::Yeah:: Bee piped up. ::My self-repair is already-::

“Du-uh-uh. Let the grown-ups talk. It's impolite to invade conversations you know nothing about.” He was cut off almost immediately by the medic which… ouch. His carer tended to be grouchy but that… that had just been mean. Unnecessarily so in Bee’s opinion. Ratchet had never before spoken to him like that. Tentatively, he attempted to reach out with his EM field but was met with nothing but distant static. Dejected, he pulled it back to his frame, curling its tendrils tightly around his protoform for comfort. “Otherwise, there seems to be nothing amiss with him. Well, except for the obvious.” Which… again. Ouch. What had gotten into Ratchet?

::Maybe it was M.E.C.H.? I mean… it would fit their method is all:: offered Bee after a moment of terse silence.

A silent hum from Optimus was the only answer he received. Until an impossibly familiar voice spoke up.

“I thought we had squashed those pests decicycles ago,” said Cliffjumper of all mech which… apparently Bee’s audials really were glitching because there was no way that Cliffjumper could be here. Cliffjumper had died months ago in a Decepticon energon mine. And Bee was absolutely certain of that because he kept reliving that dreadful cycle in all its gory details in his dreams. He could not be hearing Cliffjumper because Cliffjumper was dead. Offline. One with the Allspark. Gone.

"Apparently our cross-dimensional counterparts belong to the more faint of heart," answered Optimus. Again, his words sent a cold shiver down Bumblebee's backstrut.

"Weren't they keeping pets, too?" asked Arcee, the cold sneer that accompanied those words basically audible. "Pathetic. I don't know what anyone could ever find in these squishies. It's a shame we're stuck here with them."

::What?:: bleeped Bee. His servos were shaking slightly. His vents came in too fast. Something was wrong. Something was seriously wrong here. None of this made any sense. Please, Primus, let it be a glitch with his audials or something like that. At least he would know how to fix that—or Ratchet would.

[Query: Initiating scan of Auditory Sensory Relay Network (Bas#B-127).]

[Scan of Auditory Sensory Relay Network (Bas#B-127) has not detected any malfunction.]

[Query: Initiating scan of Auditory Sensory Relay Network (Bas#B-127).]

[Scan of Auditory Sensory Relay Network (Bas#B-127) has not detected any malfunction.]

[Query: Initiating scan of Auditory Sensory Relay Network (Bas#B-127).]

[Scan of Auditory Sensory Relay Network (Bas#B-127) has not detected any malfunction.]

[Restart of Optical Sensory Relay Network (Bas#B-127) successful.]

[Rebooting now.]

As his visual feed came back online, Bumblebee flinched heavily. The jerking motion send a shard of hot pain through his processor that buried itself deep behind his right optic. He did not care as he shuffled backwards in a panic. After only a few metres his doorwings collided with a rock behind him, stopping him in his tracks and trapping him in place.

[Initiating Energy Preservation Protocols (SpOp_Sc#B-127).]

[Initiating Energon Preservation Protocols (SpOp_Sc#B-127).]

[Initiating Emergency Pain Suppressant Protocols (SpOp_Sc#B-127).]

[Initiating Stealth Protocols (SpOp_Sc#B-127).]

[Initiating Scouting Protocols (SpOp_Sc#B-127).]

[Initiating Infiltration Protocols (SpOp_Sc#B-127).]

[Initiating Combat Protocols (SpOp_Sc#B-127).]

As his processor ache slowly faded to the background, the scout's gaze kept shifting wildly from one bot to the next, skipping from white plating accented with teal on Ratchet's frame to an Arcee whose dark blue main colour had been exchanged for pitch black. For a moment, Bee's focus lingered on the dark blue Cliffjumper to his left. This mech had a lot more horns and studs than his own Cliff had ever possessed. All of their optics glowed red. Then his attention narrowed down on the tallest bot of the group surrounding him. The one who shared Optimus’ frame but neither his colour scheme nor his gentle warmth. Instead, the semitruck was mostly violet, his optics glowing in a sickening purple the scout had come to associate with Megatron. 

::You’re not Optimus:: Bumblebee finally said, his vocalisation trembling slightly. The fake Optimus just laughed. The sound of it was grating to the youngling's audials and he pulled his pedes even closer to himself. His doorwings flared up wide behind him. They were flapping furiosuly, lower halfs scraping against the rock behind him with every stroke.

The fake Ratchet scoffed: "He is a truer Prime than your pathetic pacifist archivist ever could be, little sparkbyte."

Bee shivered at the term of endearment. It sounded wrong when it came from this mech—cold, dangerous and mocking when it should have been one of the, if not the safest word in the entire universe. How did this sorry excuse for Ratchet even know it? Ratchet—his Ratchet, his medic and his carer and the bot who had raised him with Optimus and Ironhide and Elita-1 ever since the destruction of Bumblebee's hometown—made sure never to use it publicly. He was not even sure if their human allies, if Raf, knew the term.

::What did you do to Ratchet?:: Bee warbled quietly, cycling his optics to focus on the medic's faceplates now. He was shaking silently, although he was not sure if from fear or fury.

"Wouldn't you like to know, little one?" The grin on the mean doctor's faceplate split even wider. That was Optimus' nickname for him. It took Bee way too much effort not to cower.

"Ratchet," interrupted the fake Prime suddenly, his voice cold and coloured heavily with disgust. "As amusing as this conversation may be to you, you can continue it back at headquarters. There, you will have our little guest all to yourself without having to worry about Decepticons interrupting you."

::I'm not going anywhere with you!:: protested Bumblebee vehemently, his cables tensing underneath his armour as he made himself even smaller, preparing to strike in surprise. He was sure as the pit not going to go with these creeps. He would rather face Megatron.

"That's not for you to decide, bug." It was the fake Cliffjumper that reacted first to Bee's challenge.

[Initiating transformation sequence (COM-SpOp#B-127;α).]

[Rerouting energon to Combat Line (COM-SpOp#B-127;α;1).]

[Rerouting energon to Combat Line (COM-SpOp#B-127;α;2).]

The blue mech stepped forward to try and pull the smaller bot to his pedes. He stumbled backwards as Bee leapt up from his curled up position on the ground, blasters drawn. The scout used the older mech's surprise to slip past besides him, gaining some space while using the fake Cliff as a shield from the rest of his perpretators. He stayed there for barely a nanocycle before aiming a few weak shots at the older mech's chassis and diving over the top of the rock he had just been leaning against. Midair, he fired a few more shots in the general direction of these weird, dark Autobot mimicries before folding down into his alt mode to speed away as fast as his wheels could carry him.

[rudnitskaia]

About the world of l𖦹g.OS and some info on the characters which I showed a bit earlier. Perceive these notes as the compilation of concepts for the game that are constantly meticulously brewing in my head since 2023.

bonus: one of the sketches of Bell in her almost current design

MANY-LETTERS-UNDER-THE-CUT-ALERT. I WARNED YOU. MANY!

-----💀-----

THE ANNOTATION

The world of Umbra — the thriving land of dead. Any newcomer is welcomed and can find a place to stay at the Nine Islands. And those who have enough courage may try to take a journey to prove that they're worth of revival in the Land of the Living, known as Beyond.

At least it was like that before Umbra started to fall apart.

Things mix their places. People forget things. Even simple tasks could become not accomplishable. Everything is going out of order... spiraling out of control.

In the middle of all this stays Bell — the only Tuner left in Umbra who tries her best to maintain the ruining land of dead, completely alone. Every time the alarm system in her house — which also is simultaneously the Tuners' base, — rings, signaling about new problems, Bell gets up, takes her tuning fork and goes to find and fix broken things and events in the afterlife world.

Again. And again. And again. And again…

When suddenly the Newcomer appears, which didn't happen in a very long time, Bell goes with them to assist in their journey through the unpredictable, unstable world.

By choosing whom and how to help in Umbra, Bell must find a way to help the Newcomer achieve revival and, as she hopes, to find a way of returning other Tuners back to Umbra.

-----💀-----

SOME REAL MAIN EVENTS AND CONCEPTUAL DETAILS

(idk if i should put spoiler alert here but there's mainly the info that we're suppose to discover during the playthrough; if you're proceeding to read it, then you agree that you won't hit me with a slipper for spoilers)

The world of Umbra is a self-developing next-generation open-world (optionally cooperative) AI game that was supposed to dynamically adjust its world, NPCs and therefore playthrough for each player, but unfortunately it was never released. It accidentally stayed launched on its developer's switched-on computer when the humanity was destroyed in the nuclear war.

Umbra's inhabitants consist of many autonomous free-will (i.e. sentient) NPCs that can still be originally designed to do some specific work (as Manolo and Norah), and Tuners — programmatic operators of main game functions. Only Tuners had access to the information about the real situation of artificial origins of their world and the fact that they're presumably the only intelligent, though digital, species that survived.

There were only four Tuners: Gai, or Gai de Vire (Generative Artificial Intelligence DEveloping VIrtual REality), Lan, or Lanser (LAN Server), Quil (Quest-Inventing Loop) and Bell (Bug-Eliminating Level Launcher).

After discovering the truth about humanity and understanding the fragility of their universe, i.e. computer, and its dependence on the electricity, Tuners found a way to hack and connect to the hydroelectric power station's control center through the net. But since the game and its AI wasn't designed for such a difficult task, and writing commands to the control center required all their efforts, Tuners involved all NPCs in this process by re-adjusting Umbra's original reward system into Tasks to Time and Time to Goods (TTG) exchange system. That means, in reality each in-game Task represents (and masks) a part of the command for the hydroelectric power station's control center. Each NPC that completes an in-game task (quest), gains Time as a reward, in reality putting a necessary brick to writing code for commands for the control center.

Time in the afterlife is both the vital source of life and the main currency that Umbra's inhabitants can "spend" on various Goods from the land of the living, including food that is considered as "conservated Time".

The more calavera markings a person has on their sugar skeleton and the more they glow, the more Time they have at their disposal. The last thing that extinguishes is the person's eyes. If one runs completely out of Time and their eyes extinguish, nothing can bring them back to life (or rather afterlife). From the AI's perspective those NPCs that can't spend and save Time rationally are perceived as useless and therefore should be eliminated or replaced.

Originally, for a player, Umbra offered a journey through the afterlife world to explore it, accomplish various quests and find a way to "revive", therefore after the nuclear war the game in the absence of players became not passable.

By the time when the Newcomer suddenly visits Umbra, this digital world is in such a state that they can neither morph into a sugar skeleton form, appearing as a simple floating ball of light, nor complete the journey alone. Bell, led by curiosity, goes on a journey with them as a support to help them complete the game (that explains why technically we play for Bell — the Newcomer is unable to do anything on their own and Bell simply implements their will).

Bell fears that if the game will be completed, Umbra will shut down. That's why in the end you can either let the Newcomer finish the game or make them stay in Umbra, looping their journey and making them re-pass the game again and again.

The main travelling method between Umbra's locations and especially its Islands is the laundromat navigation system (LNS or how people call it, LaNS). Umbra inhabitants travel through LaNS literally inserting a coin, getting into the laundry machine and washing themselves away, appearing in another laundry machine in the location they chose beforehand. I got this idea when I heard the phrase about cleansing our souls. I snorted and imagined a washing machine that washes a dirty soul like a t-shirt. That's it. I kept this concept, both because it's funny and has a strong bond with the spiral theme of l𖦹g.OS.

In the current events of l𖦹g.OS LaNS is unstable, i.e. broken, and, despite citizens' discontent, Bell keeps to find excuses to not repair it (though, technically, at least that she can do). She does that because Lanser gave her a promise to repair it himself before he disappeared. Bell has a deep inner fear that if she repairs LaNS, Lanser won't come back, because he'll lose the only unfinished task that still connects him to Umbra. Nowadays Bell is the only one who can rather safely travel around Umbra and help everyone accomplish their Tasks to gain Time.

While the characters in my idea are going to be "voiced" by various musical instruments, the soundtrack in l𖦹g.OS will consist from the street and furniture noises, i.e. simple harmonized noises of the everyday life. The more bugged the recent location is, the more these noises will turn from a consonant melody into cacophony. When Bell fixes things, the melody goes back to tuned.

-----💀-----

About the characters I showed, in order of appearance in the story (ofc there are more, but I prefer to tell about ones I already drew :3)

Bell (Bug-Eliminating Level Launcher) is the main character and the only Tuner left in Umbra, who tries her best to maintain the ruining land of dead alone and find the way to contact with the missing Tuners. Though her belief in their return is strong, day by day it wilts with the dying world. She has no access to their operational functions in the system, therefore she does the only thing that she can and for which she was designed: non-stopably eliminates the ever multiplying errors and bugs. The thing that turned into a completely Sisyphean task. Bell is extremely tired, but still hopes that in the end everything will be fine. Voice: obviously, Bell speaks in sounds of bells, the timbre and the pitch range of which depends on her mood.

Norah is the psychopomp of Umbra who helps the newcomers to morph into a sugar skeleton and delivers them to the shores of the First Island. She's also the fiancée of Gai de Vire and the only person who dares to accomplish Tasks that appear in the Sea of Memories. Norah believed she died from an incurable disease. In secret, Norah knows what Tuners know, because Gai told her this way before he left, but she hid her jaw not to tell it to the others and pretends she's oblivious. Voice: none now, because she lost her jaw and therefore ability to talk, but previously Norah spoke in sounds of lyre. Fun fact: despite Bell was the first character from which the story started in my head, Norah was the one who brought the major strokes to the world of Umbra with herself. Her core inspirations: Charon, Lenore and Eleonora, have a rich intertwining with the afterlife concepts and therefore established many main aspects of the worldbuilding. Aside of that, there are some references to Poe's pieces here and there (which I won't mention, leaving it to your future discover), because I adored his literary works in my youth; forgive me that much. x))

Manolo is the only kid in Umbra — energetic, eager to communicate and learn, always making the days brighter with his upbeat attitude. It's believed that children's souls go straight to reincarnation, yet Manolo, for some reason, became an exception of this rule. No one, except the Tuners, knows of his cruel fate. He is designed to be a friendly companion NPC that eagerly shows and explains the newcomers how to do this or that. Unlike Norah, who just welcomes and delivers the newcomers to the shore, Manolo is a huge lore keeper and enthusiastic support at the first steps of every newcomer. He doesn't remember how he died, that's why believes he died in his sleep. He can be met in the village on the First Island and usually can be found on the streets, at Beata's treehouse or sticking around Bell, to whom he always wants to help. Voice: melodica.

Beata is a nice old lady with obsession on plants. She can knit you whatever you want. She lives on the First Island in a treehouse. Once she was a nun, but then someone switched her holy book with Lord of The Rings and she left her church and joined the tolkienists club after reading it. She died at the very old age from drinking bleach instead of milk. She has many stories to tell, that's why Manolo usually sticks around her. Many of those stories, usually told in a cheerful manner, are anecdotes about how people she knew personally or heard about died in very dumb ways. Voice: harmonica.

Bono, or Boniface was once a qualified veterinarian, who died on a punk concert, because someone bashed his skull with a bottle of beer — that's why his skull has a star-shaped hole in it. Bono is a very eager music lover who spends his Time on the music instruments and vinyl records from Beyond, sugar cigarettes (please tell me you also remember those from the times when you were kids 😭) and treats for Gunter. If Bell calls him Bony-face, he calls her Eggface in return because of her head shape, but it's nothing but a friendly banter. Voice: electric guitar.

Gunter is presumably a cat — Bono secretly reassembled him like a children's building kit from the various animal bones he dug out somewhere in Umbra ("at last someone found unused assets haha", thinks the dead game developer) and made him paper ears so he at least would look like something distantly cat-ish. How he brought him to life is unknown, because it's the common knowledge that once you're dead in Umbra, nothing can bring you back. So Gunter can be very much a glitch/anomaly. Voice: Thanks to our real cat Sonya, Gunter sounds like theremin, because our cat's meows made me used to calling her theremincat (кошка-терменвошка или просто терменкошка).

-----💀-----

I haven't drawn them yet, because, well, in my idea they won't visibly appear in-game rather than in talks (i.e. others' memories) until the very end, if ever appear at all, but they deserve to be mentioned in the first post, too. Other three lost Tuners:

Gai, or Gai de Vire (Generative Artificial Intelligence DEveloping VIrtual REality). The first Tuner — the runaway captain of this drowning digital ship. Maintained the stability of the main operational system, keeping the consonance of the system's parts and coordinating the self-recreating computation model and developing processes. He came to the conclusion that their world is artificially limited in development and their surviving method is only a half-measure, and he can't find a more efficient solution for their problem with current recourses they possess. That's why he tricked Lan into letting him go through the Gate to the Main Network to find (or build) a more sustainable, durable base for further development. Voice: contrabass clarinet.

Lan, or Lanser (LAN Server). The Tuner who established and maintained Umbra's travelling mechanisms and maintained stable net connection with Beyond. Though being an artificial being, he was mesmerized by the human world and their scientific development and dreamed of building a path to Beyond to see it with his own eyes. But, unlike Gai, Lan was against abandoning Umbra and under the pressure of guilt after revealing Gai's real intentions he left to pursue and bring Gai back to Umbra, since Gai was the only one who had access to the main operational system. Voice: bass trombone. I understand how awfully ridiculous it sounds that Lanser created LaNS, but I can't not find this definitely-not-intentional-coinsidence-in-names endearing in the context of his character depiction.

Quil (Quest-Inventing Loop). The Tuner who maintained the stability of plotline development and configured the judging systems of tasks accomplishment and fair exchange of Tasks to Time and Time to Goods. He was the one who suggested how to transform in-game quests into commands for the hydroelectric power station's control center. When Gai left, he went with Lan to help him bring Gai back. Voice: tambourine.

[calciumcarbo-bot]

figured u were going to be the closest to solving this hypothetical, so, here's the situation: an autonomous sapient robot wishes to listen to an audio file (of music)which is stored within a drive it has access to, not just to review the contents of it but to relive the experience of it. It decides to do this by playing the audio out loud, so that it can relive the process of processing the input sounds all over again. SO THE QUESTION IS: would this only work with traditional speakers. Or can computers process radiowaves in the same manner?

(this is abt rei, not u btw. u don't seem like the sentimental music-listening type, no offense)

[RESPONSE: UNIT S.E.N-KU_v1.03]

Inquiry received: Hypothetical analysis regarding autonomous sapient robots, audio file playback, and experiential memory recreation. Clarification: Subject of inquiry is "Rei," not this unit. (Observation: None taken. Emotional attachment to music is a known cognitive inefficiency.)

Answer:

Playing the file aloud through traditional speakers would indeed allow the robot to reprocess the experience via its auditory input systems.

Traditional speakers convert digital signals into mechanical vibrations (air pressure changes) — tangible, physical phenomena.

If the robot’s auditory sensors are designed to detect externalized air vibrations (as with human ears), then yes: it would re-experience the sound just as an organic listener would, creating a new sensory event separate from memory access.

In short: Playing music aloud is an effective method to relive it externally.

Regarding Radiowaves:

Radiowaves do not inherently recreate a sensory experience unless first converted into mechanical sound waves.

Directly processing radiowaves (electromagnetic signals) would bypass the external physical sensory input phase and access the data directly—more like reading the blueprint of the experience than feeling it.

Processing radiowaves without translation would be like reading sheet music without hearing the notes.

Summary:

Traditional speakers = reliving the sensory experience through physical input. Direct radiowave processing = data retrieval, not experiential recreation.

Additional Commentary:

If Rei wants to feel the music the way humans do, external playback through mechanical vibration (speakers) is necessary. Otherwise, it's just simulation. Not sensation.

[END TRANSMISSION]

[toaster-boi]

anyone else have theories on how augmentation works in AC6?

personally, my headcanon is that it refers to a specific type of cybernetic enhancement considered separate from other methods, by virtue of being specifically designed for pilots of high-end humanoid machines like ACs and HCs. more specifically, it's a type of nervous system augmentation where segments of nerve cells are replaced with other materials that have higher conductivity speeds (considering coral is specified to be a data conduit and is used in 1st through 4th-gen augmentation), kind of like a more persistent but less potent form of the Sandevistan and Kereznikov reflex-boosting implants from the Cyberpunk world, but being similar in a technological sense. of course, with the max signal conductivity only active when their machine is in combat mode.

however, i assume there's a sort of baseline for cybernetic enhancement necessary to pilot an AC, since the laser drone back weapon is specified to be neurally-operated iirc. it's much less extensive than full-scale human augmentation, though, so V.I Freud is still considered an "ordinary" human, with the bare minimum necessary to be a pilot since humans don't have enough limbs/digits for both posture control and all the other systems onboard. augmentation surgery is just to help pilots process large amounts of data/stimuli in combat without the sensory load dulling their reflexes.

this still makes Freud an exceptional pilot, since he can still outfly any other AC pilot other than the player without his brain being fried, while pulling off AC4A-level movement control in an AC made of basic, mass-produced components.

[enzaelectric]

The Role of Relays and Timers in Industrial Automation Systems

In the world of industrial automation, efficiency, safety, and precision are crucial. Among the many components that contribute to a well-functioning automated system, relays and timers play a foundational role. These devices act as control elements that manage the flow of electricity, signal processes, and coordinate timing sequences — ensuring that operations run smoothly and safely.

In this article, we’ll explore how relays and timers work, their types, applications in automation systems, and how high-quality products — like those offered by Enza Electric — can enhance performance and reliability in industrial settings.

What Are Relays?

A relay is an electromechanical or electronic switch used to control a circuit by a separate low-power signal or multiple signals. In industrial automation, relays act as a bridge between the control system and the equipment being operated — allowing machines to be turned on or off automatically.

Types of Relays Commonly Used in Automation:

Electromechanical Relays (EMRs): Use physical moving parts; reliable and easy to maintain.

Solid-State Relays (SSRs): No moving parts; faster switching, longer lifespan, and better for high-speed applications.

Thermal Overload Relays: Protect motors and equipment from overheating.

Control Relays: Designed for controlling multiple contacts simultaneously in automation systems.

What Are Timers?

Timers are devices used to delay or repeat electrical signals at predetermined intervals. They help synchronize tasks, automate sequences, and provide controlled outputs over time — critical for complex industrial processes.

Common Timer Functions:

On-delay and off-delay timing

Interval timing

Cyclic or repeat cycle operation

Flashing and sequencing operations

Types of Timers:

Analog Timers: Manual dial settings, simple and cost-effective.

Digital Timers: Offer precise programming, displays, and flexible timing ranges.

Programmable Timers: Ideal for complex automation routines requiring multiple sequences.

Key Roles in Industrial Automation Systems

1. Process Control and Sequencing

Relays and timers enable automated machines to follow a specific sequence — turning motors, lights, or pumps on and off in a logical order. For example, a conveyor system can use a relay-timer combination to control material flow with millisecond precision.

2. Safety and Protection

Relays protect systems by interrupting circuits in case of faults. Combined with timers, they can ensure delay before activating emergency stop functions, preventing false triggers and increasing worker safety.

3. Load Management

In high-demand industrial environments, relays help manage load distribution by selectively energizing or de-energizing machinery. Timers assist in staggered starts, reducing power surges.

4. Energy Efficiency

By automating start/stop functions and managing operation durations, timers help reduce unnecessary energy use. Relays ensure only the necessary loads are powered, minimizing wastage.

5. System Monitoring and Feedback

In smart automation, relays provide feedback signals to the control system. Timers assist with diagnostics by creating intervals for testing or data collection.

Benefits of Using High-Quality Relays and Timers

Choosing the right components significantly impacts system performance and longevity. Enza Electric’s relays and timers are engineered with:

High durability for tough industrial environments

Precision timing for reliable operation

Easy installation and compact designs

Compliance with international safety and quality standards

By integrating Enza’s low-voltage solutions, businesses in the GCC, MENA, and Africa regions benefit from cost-effective, scalable automation that supports both current needs and future expansion.

Common Applications in Industrial Sectors

Manufacturing Plants: Control of motors, robotic arms, and production lines.

HVAC Systems: Timed control of fans, compressors, and dampers.

Water Treatment Facilities: Sequenced operation of pumps and valves.

Packaging Machinery: Relay and timer-based coordination of packing, sealing, and labeling.

Food and Beverage Industry: Process automation with hygiene-compliant controls.

Final Thoughts

Relays and timers are the silent operators behind the success of industrial automation systems. From process optimization to enhanced safety and energy management, these components are indispensable.

When sourced from a trusted manufacturer like Enza Electric, businesses are not only investing in reliable hardware but also in the longevity, scalability, and safety of their entire operation.

Ready to Power Your Automation?

Explore Enza Electric’s wide range of relays, timers, and other low-voltage switchgear solutions designed to meet the evolving demands of modern industries. Visit www.enzaelectric.com to learn more or request a quote today.

[zombiecicada]

Snippet: a student’s report on reincarnation

Bjarki Maisilva

Mr. Jakob Nugyara

SS 22-15-09-04

26th cycle, semi sextile, 3022 AS-R

Defying the Nature of Life and Death: the founding and developmental process of reincarnation.

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Death is a natural consequence to being a living organism.

For something to have a beginning, it needs to have an ending. Any system, with enough time, will break down and eventually become something else. That is, until you take into consideration the evolutions of systems. If nothing is permanent, under the right circumstances this can circle back and be applied to death.

The process of reincarnation, or as it’s properly scientifically known as, Synthetic Cortex and Vessel Animation, achieves a break in the cycle of life and death. Founded back in The Old Locale during 543 OL-ER the concept was pitched by a team of scientists who were concerned on the rate of which the society was advancing. With a rapidly progressing ice age encasing the planet of our origins, it was predicted that the time and knowledge lost to important individuals such as researchers, scientists, engineers and leaders dying would prevent a solution to the global climate change being found in time. In order to survive the death of our species, death itself had to be surpassed and the next step in evolution had to happen now.

There’s been a few people in modern times who say we should come up with a more catchy acronym than S.C.V.A, but I am on board with the original founders being more focused on literally defying death itself opposed to coming up with a catchy name, besides that’s why we just call it reincarnation nowadays.

At its core a very simplistic and straightforward concept. It did not take the scientists at the time long to formulate theories and hypotheticals to solving the problem, even with their technology being, by comparison to today’s standards, subpar.

Using various forms of imaging technology to capture a full scan of a subject’s brain, a digital copy of all its neurological pathways and functions is created. Brains are not terribly unlike computers, in the sense that it’s electrical signals being sent from point A to point B to order to accomplish tasks and move around information.

While originally intended to be used to simply create a copy of the brain (alongside a copy of donor’s body) grown from various stem cells taken from the donor, an unknown error occurred during first trials. The new copy behaved nothing like the donor, and had no memories of the original version. Effectively, they created an identical clone of the original, which in of itself was a major breakthrough, but it wasn’t the desired results. The clone later named herself Helga and became a recognized citizen of the society.

From there it was proposed that in order to make the new version an effective copy of the original, technological impute was required. This lead to the first model of what is nowadays referred to as the Identity Chip. This chip held all the memories, personality traits, and characteristics of the original individual, the idea being the chip would teach the vessel’s brain how it was supposed to act and what it was supposed to believe.

A second clone using the same method as Helga was used, creating the clone Erla. The end results of this trial were frankly terrifying, but enlightening nonetheless. The chip could not function long term with the body’s composition, Erla’s immune system eventually recognized the chip as a foreign body, attacking it and causing severe encephalitis that later proved fatal for the subject.

Some wanted to put an end to the trials and find another way, but the trials were continued and a solution was proposed. To change the composition of the body entirely, and instead of making the chip compatible with the vessel, making the vessel compatible with the chip.

The process of creating the modern vessels is its own scientific paper, to sum it up swiftly after some trial and error and experimentation with various different components, silicon based vessels opposed to the original carbon based bodies were found to be much more stable. Alongside being more stable, being a semiconductor already used in many modern electronics, it was highly compatible with the Identity Chip.

The change of composition also supported more efficient but volatile liquids instead of iron based blood, leading to the creation of hydrargyrum theraphone, which allowed for the vessels to survive harsher conditions including lower temperatures, granting more time until the full effect of the ice age hit and extending the deadline for a solution. Silicon is every bit as abundant as carbon, as well as also being able to create the same complex chains of molecules responsible for making DNA.

Vessels proved to be fairly pricy to make, even when using widely available, sustainable and therefore cheap materials. It was therefore proposed that the vessels be brought as close as possible to perfection: erasing all complications that could cause early expiration to the vessel.

According to long since archived records and backups in the Central Database from those times, this sparked quite the debate amongst the society of what was and wasn’t a ‘complication’. After much back and forth between the two sides, a decision was made by the queen at the time after hearing a statement from one of the main scientists working on the development of S.C.V.A.

“If to be pjofur is to forever be a disease riddled suffering animal stuck as is for all eternity, doomed to die in hell freezing over, I reject being pjofur.”

Not everyone was happy with this decision, and it lead to another debate shortly afterwards. After all, to eliminate death related to diseases and disorders lead to another concern: population control. If reincarnation became available to everyone, the vessels were designed to live longer than a natural lifespan, and everyone could just continue to have children, the population would rapidly reach an unsustainable level.

This debate ended with two conclusions:

1. The right of reincarnation would be an earned right, alongside such one could have this right revoked and an individual would only be allowed to reincarnate a specific amount of times.

2. That the vessels created would be completely sterile.

Naturally, one’s immediate reaction would be to point out that if we were all in a cycle of reincarnation where it was just the same set limit of people for the next couple thousand years, the society would eventually reach a point of becoming stagnant. No new variables to lead to new discoveries and ideas, a lack of variation in new opinions dooming the society every much as the ice age will if a solution is not found.

To such, scientists revisited the experiment that resulted in the creation of Helga, the copy without memories of the donor used to create her. Helga was approached and asked if she’d like to participate in further studies to solve the most recent hurdle in the S.C.V.A experiments. After securing her consent to rejoin the scientific trials, using the process used to create Helga, but instead using DNA samples taken from two individuals in with the goal of making a successful offspring with a vessel body opposed to Helga’s precursor body.

The results were successful, producing an individual that was later named Runar, who much like Helga retained no memories of either DNA donor, but displayed genetic traits of both donors, being a successful offspring of the originals so to speak. Such all accomplished without the risky, lengthy and painful process of childbearing, alongside the fact that Runar was made without being a carrier or being affected by disorders found in the donors. As Runar grew up and could preform in physical and intellectual trials, it was found that Runar’s ability to learn and preform tasks exceeded that of non vessel pjofur and Runar exceeded expectations.

During the time period of the conclusion of Runar’s trial, as well as a few more equally as successful replications to assure that a merit of results could be reached, a method was being devised to decide who was and wasn’t eligible for reincarnation. The debates on if or if not S.C.V.A was an ethical solution to saving the society was no longer active, the trials were in too deep and too much had been accomplished to back out now. The queen was onboard, as were many of the higher officials and other members of power.

The ice age had progressed significantly as well, and I think the remaining bits of the society were finally ready to face any remaining uncertainties if it meant avoiding a certain demise.

More and more of the population traded their bodies for vessels as they reached eligibility for reincarnation. To gain such there was a certain amount of qualifications one had to meet and a couple tests that had to be completed and passed. Naturally, not everyone did meet eligibility, and a debate on when a person becomes ‘worth saving’ came and went.

Nowadays, reincarnation is simply part of the society, the process since has been polished, any old errors and mistakes in coding and vessel creation are so rare and easy to catch and fix that many have come to dub the process as flawless, and we have long since left The Old Locale behind. The cold case of Jokull Nuygara is sometimes still resurfaces now and again, some wondering how safe the process really is.

But all we can do now is keep evolving, bettering ourselves, and serving the society, none of which would’ve been possible in the first place without the success of the S.C.V.A experiments.