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putaposyinyourhair · 1 year

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Slowly but Also Like All at Once

noah diaz x mirage (boys who are friends aka boyfriends 🧍🏽➕🤖🟰❤️)

warnings: mirage being himself and optimus being unamused

ratchet’s in the building y’all

The towering, decaying walls and partially caved-in ceiling give the chapel an eerie aura— the only source of light coming from the rays of sunlight streaming in through the broken glass of the early twentieth-century structure’s rose window— and Noah’s positive that if his ma were here, she’d be handing out bendiciones every five minutes. But the atmosphere isn’t what’s currently making Noah shift from one leg to the other anxiously.

“You disobeyed a direct order.”

Just as Arcee had predicted, Optimus is not a happy camper.

“Does it count as direct if Rat-trap’s the one who told me I couldn’t leave though?” Mirage drawls, one digit held in the air as if he’s actually making a point.

Noah has to curb the urge to drop his face into the palms of his hands. It’s an easy feat to accomplish seeing as he’s trying really hard to not bring any attention to himself.

The newcomer— who Optimus had introduced as his chief medical officer, Ratchet— reaches out, past his leader’s shoulderpad, to deliver one hard thump to the back of Mirage’s helm with a heavy servo.

Noah flinches minutely— the sound startling him more than anything really— and he finds himself glad for both Arcee and Bumblebee standing at either of his sides. He doesn’t think Ratchet would ever try and hurt him or anything— he’d pretty much been ignoring Noah’s presence since their brief introduction down at the dock— but nevertheless, the comforting presences of the scout and sharpshooter instill within Noah a small sense of security.

Mirage stumbles forward a step from the force of the hit, shaking his helm like the whack’s made him a bit dizzy, before he straightens back up with a pout pulling at the mouth plates that act as his lips.

“Yo!” he cries. “Party foul, man!”

The mech looks up at Optimus and thrusts his servos out.

“Prime, bro, you gonna let him treat me like that?”

Optimus does nothing but stare down at the spy kind of blankly, like he can’t believe he has to deal with this kind of shit day in and day out. It would almost be funny, if it weren’t coming from the infamously solemn bot.

After a moment of silence, Mirage lowers his servos with an offended scoff.

“Oh, it’s gon’ be like that, huh? Alright, I’ll remember that.”

There’s no real animosity behind his words though and Noah gets the feeling that this stuff happens a lot around here; Mirage breaking the rules and Optimus having to deal with it like an exasperated father.

“We will discuss this further at another point in time,” Optimus decides, turning away from the smaller mech. “For now, there are other more important matters that require our attention.” He makes a vague gesture in Bumblebee’s direction.

“Show them, Bee.”

The black and yellow bot steps forward, whirring in a way that makes Noah think he’s excited to show them whatever it is. The mech reaches up to the side of his helm and a moment later a stream of light beams out of the very same spot, projecting an image into the middle of the room.

It’s… wow.

Noah contains the urge to rush forward and gawk like an idiot as the image shows something that, to him, looks like a meteor falling from blue skies and crashing into the face of a strangely vermillion yet still snow-capped mountain. He blinks.

“Where is this?” he questions, before he can stop himself. He inhales sharply and bites down into the corner of his bottom lip.

Way to go, dumbass.

He’s not even supposed to be here. Probably— more like definitely— isn’t supposed to be seeing any of this. He’s only here because of a fluke, because Mirage had snuck out to see him.

He’s not one of them. None of this is any of his business.

Still, the way the shimmery image loops is fascinating and Noah can’t help but be awed by it. Sue him, he’s an electronics nerd and the tech the autobots possess is all kinds of amazing to him. He’d love to find out how the projection works.

Ratchet— who is standing on the other side of the room from him, with Optimus and Mirage— snaps his gaze over at the sound of Noah’s voice and Noah watches as the medic’s optical ridges furrow, like the bot had legitimately forgotten all about his presence.

“The humans call it Pike’s Peak,” Optimus divulges. “It is located in the state of Colorado. At around ‘oh eight hundred hours mountain standard time yesterday, this, as of yet, unidentified object impacted at around thirteen and a half thousand feet.”

Colorado. The Rockies then.

“The United States Army and the Department of Homeland Security were on site quickly but all they found was an empty crater.”

Noah’s eyes widen.

“Meaning whatever it was, it’s long gone,” Arcee realizes, stepping forward and studying the image for a second, before her gaze snaps up to her leader. “Optimus… could it be one of ours?”

“It’s possible,” Optimus acknowledges with a small tilt of his helm.

“But there’s also a chance it could be…” Ratchet trails off, his optics lowering to fix squarely on Noah.

Noah starts, taking a small step back— closer to Bumblebee, who buzzes inquisitively at Noah’s proximity.

“It is alright, Ratchet,” Optimus advises, his gaze sliding over to Noah’s form as well— the large mech’s optics pulsing a bright blue. “Noah is…” The bot trails off for a second, his astute gaze settled firmly on Noah as he seems to think on it.

And Noah honestly feels like he holds his breath in that moment, awaiting his judgement.

“He is one of us.”

Noah’s breath rushes out of him so fast, it catches somewhere between his diaphragm and his throat, and he releases a small squeaking sound.

He’s what now?

Across the room, Mirage beams and stealthily thrusts a servo up into the air before Ratchet shoots him a brusque look, causing the silver and blue bot to snap to attention— servos fisted at both of his sides and chest plates held high— but with an impertinent, yet subtle, roll of his optics.

Noah’s stupid heart skips over a beat again.

He’s sure one day he’ll figure out why Mirage seems to like his companionship so much.

… and figure out where exactly Mirage had heard the word, ‘cariño,’ and decided it was the perfect term to use on Noah— along with the growing list of pet names he’d been dishing out all last night.

Ratchet huffs in response, both to the spy’s antics and their leader’s proclamation.

“It could be a decepticon,” the medic reports cautiously. “Before I crash landed on this planet, I was being hunted by one. I believe he calls himself Barricade. One of Starscream’s underlings.”

Noah frowns and, emboldened by Optimus’ unexpected vote of confidence, steps out from underneath Bumblebee’s shadow.

“What the hell’s a decepticon?” he queries boldly.

“Brutal, merciless warriors,” Arcee informs him, glancing down at him with such a disheartened look that it makes Noah think she’s probably got some painful history with these so called decepticons. “Obsessed with conquering our home planet, Cybertron, and expanding out into the universe. Last I remember, they were under Soundwave’s leadership. Are you saying Starscream’s taken control, Ratchet?”

Optimus lifts a servo again, towards Bumblebee, and the scout reaches up to shut off his projection.

The stream of light flickers out of existence, thrusting the furthest reaches of the chapel’s main area into shadow.

“Unfortunately, I can’t say,” Ratchet professes. “Ironhide and I were in hiding together for quite some time. But he wished to return home and make a stand. Whilst I knew that was a suicide mission. When he failed to return or even check back in, I decided I needed to make another attempt at locating Optimus. But as soon as I stepped out of hiding, Barricade found me. I’ve been running ever since.”

That sounds miserable, in Noah’s opinion. Always running, always hiding. Looking over your shoulder. He can’t imagine a life like that.

“Okay, so we go find out what exactly fell on that mountain,” Mirage pipes up. When all eyes and optics in the room turn to him, he cringes a little and adds on a tiny, “Right?”

Optimus takes a moment to glance around the room, scanning his team.

“I hacked into the communication network the humans are using,” he informs them. “They have received multiple reports of an unusual patrol vehicle in the nearby municipality of Cañon City, approximately 30 miles southwest of Pike’s Peak.”

“A patrol car?” Arcee queries, the tone of her voice hitching. She turns away after a moment, optics fixed on a splintered pew that’s been shoved into a corner, muttering to herself.

Noah thinks he hears her say, ‘It couldn’t be…’ but he could be wrong.

“As much as I hate to agree with the disrespectful little sparkling,” Ratchet gripes. “Mirage is right.”

“Whoa, pump the brakes, you half-clocked burnout—“

Mirage’s sharp objection is cut short by a sudden shrill squeal that comes from Bumblebee— a sound that causes Noah to flinch away from the mech, both hands flying up to cover his ears. The noise is quickly followed up by Ratchet attempting to once more reach past Optimus, servos clawing the air in Mirage’s direction.

“Enough!” Optimus booms, lifting his own servos to put distance between himself and both bots at either of his sides. “We do not have time for these infantile games. You are soldiers and I expect you to behave accordingly. Am I understood?”

Mirage, for his part, exhales softly and hangs his head shamefully, digits fidgeting at his sides.

Ratchet huffs and turns away, arms crossing over his blue and white chest plates as he grumbles beneath his breath.

Noah can’t help but feel a little bad for Optimus in that moment. It’s clear the mech could seriously do with a nice long vacation on a beach somewhere.

“Wheeljack is already inbound,” Optimus discloses with a suffering sigh. “We depart tomorrow morning at ‘oh five hundred hours sharp. Destination, Cañon City, Colorado.”

At this revelation, Noah finds his feet suddenly stumbling forward— like a magnet is attracting him— carrying him across the room, towards Mirage.

Mirage seems to be just as affected by the metaphorical magnet though, because he shoots forward as well, meeting Noah halfway whilst looking to Optimus with a look on his face that’s kind of indiscernible to Noah.

Optimus meets the shorter mech’s stare head-on.

Noah impulsively reaches out once he and the blue and silver bot are within touching distance and places a hand against Mirage’s thigh guard, watching as Optimus’ stare drops from his spy to Noah.

“Noah, having you along on this mission would be considerably beneficial,” Optimus establishes with an assured nod. “As I have said, you are now one of us. And it is our— my hope that you will agree to join us and continue to aid us in our plight.”

Noah’s brows shoot skyward, his eyes widening up at the bot.

“Are you for real?” he inquires abruptly, not even pausing to figure out how he feels about what’s being asked of him.

“Yes, I am… for real.”

Oh.

“Aw, yeah!” Mirage crows at his side. “Road trip!”

#noah x mirage #norage #noah diaz #mirage #mirage rotb #transformers rise of the beasts #transformers rotb #mirage x noah

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squeakadeeks · 1 year

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What would happen if you put a meatball in the vacuum chamber?

i would destroy over million dollars worth of equipment in a single second. its quick its easy its free. how to get fired in one step.

as for why putting a meatball would destroy our vacuum chambers, its actually less about it being a meatball specifically, and more the concept of putting a large amount of organic material in the chambers (granted meatballs are particularly juicy which would make them especially bad). When you put any organic material inside a chamber under ultra high vacuum, the large organic molecules peel off the material and will coat every surface in the chamber, including our microchannel plates, filaments, electron beam source, the walls themselves, condensing lenses, scanning tips, etc and some of our vacuum pumps themselves reducing their effectiveness. and if I were to put a sample in, the residual organic molecules would coat the sample too, making any data unreliable and moot.

It's not just that those molecules will go everywhere, they're also incredibly hard to remove. to the point where if I put a meatball in our STM, theres no feasible way we could actually clean it to the point where it would be operable...at least not without taking the whole machine apart.

this is also why we have to be super careful whenever working with something that's going to go into the sample or doing maintenance, we cant touch anything that's actually going to go under ultra high vacuum since even the residual grease on our skin can deposit material. we even have to use specific types of metals since certain things like zinc and cadmium will release flying molecules too.

#the most annoying feature of this phenomena is how careful we have to be about adhesives and just...any material

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materialsscienceandengineering · 24 days

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Mapping the Textures of Thicker Magnets

A soft x-ray magnetic imaging technique makes possible the study of a wide range of magnetic materials. [...] Understanding magnets’ nanoscale structures is critical to developing magnetic materials for applications in clean energy, sensing, computing devices, and many other technologies. While x-ray and electron microscopy can create high-resolution images of magnetic thin films, imaging thicker samples is often impossible. Jeffrey Neethirajan of the Max Planck Institute for Chemical Physics of Solids in Germany and his colleagues now overcome this limitation with an x-ray imaging technique for micrometer-thick magnets [1]. Using a soft-x-ray beam line at the Diamond Light Source, the UK’s national synchrotron facility, the researchers scanned a circularly polarized x-ray beam across a magnetic sample and then repeated the process with the polarization reversed. Circularly polarized x-rays interact differently with magnetic structures depending on their polarization direction—an effect called x-ray magnetic circular dichroism (XMCD). By comparing diffraction patterns obtained using each polarization direction, magnetic structures inside a sample can be mapped.

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killerrobot-killingmatch · 7 months

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New Favorite Robot Poll (Part 1)

★ Reblog for a bigger sample size ★ Definitions under cut

Part 2 Here

Robot: a machine resembling a human being and able to replicate certain human movements and functions automatically. / It must be able to do at least one task a human could do physically in a similar way. Doesn't have to resemble physically.

Android: A robot with a human appearance. / Looks more possibly human. Uncanny in their similarities even if clear differences.

Cyborg: A person whose physical abilities are extended beyond normal human limitations by mechanical elements built into the body. / Person with mechanical limbs (I don't really care if it enhances it tbh, let cool tech limbs count as cyborgs of they want). Can apply to any living organism by adding it's name at the end so click that if you like animal/plant/other cyborgs.

Ai/ Artificial Intelligence: The theory and development of computer systems able to perform tasks that normally require human intelligence, such as visual perception, speech recognition, decision-making, and translation between languages. / A computer that can think, function, and process mentally like a human with complex thought. Doesn't require a body.

Mecha/Mechs: A large armored robot, typically controlled by a person riding inside the robot itself. / Big, has a person driving... usually. Mechs are known to be larger and thicker than Mechas (Who are more humanoid), but for the sake of not getting anyone confused and their main source they're sharing an option.

Industrial Robots: Are robotic arms that can move in several directions and can be programmed to carry out many different types of tasks in different environments. / Arms only

Animatronic:of, relating to, or being a puppet or similar figure that is animated by means of electromechanical devices

Automation: automatically controlled operation of an apparatus, process, or system by mechanical or electronic devices that take the place of human labor

Nanobot: A hypothetical, very small, self-propelled machine. Especially one that has some degree of autonomy and can reproduce.

Hologram: a three-dimensional image formed by the interference of light beams from a laser or other coherent light source.

Droid: (in science fiction) a robot, especially (but not always) one with an appearance resembling that of a human.

Lack of an exoskeleton: Robot where its just the skeleton and all the wires and stuff are exposed

#poll time #mod hera #robots

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tenebris-metallum · 1 year

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The bad news is I didn't make the cut in the HP Lovecraft Film Fest's flash fiction contest. The good news is now I'm comfortable sharing it!

There's always next year, and a new story.

EXPEDITION - 498 words

No explicit warnings apply

On March 1st, 2025, the crew of an oceanic exploration mission experienced critical equipment failure and lost contact with both ROV submersibles being used to survey the ocean floor in the open ocean southwest of Hawai'i. The expedition had been studying hitherto-undiscovered geothermal vents when the first, the Hera, went down – marveling at the volcanic formations that billowed superheated, chemical-rich water into the normally pitch-black ocean. Before the connection was lost, Hera’s cameras panned to the side, revealing a strangely smooth rock formation. It was devoid of the expected sediment and microbial mats, and its angles seemed almost too perfect to be a naturally occurring feature.

Dr Hess, one of the geologists, began to speculate on its origin – proposing first that it was part of a ship that had been lost during the Second World War, and then making a joke about Atlantis. The team laughed, and she was about to posit a third, serious, hypothesis as to its origin when something moved in the water behind the object. It would've gone unnoticed except for one, crucial fact: Hera's laser sights – two dots marking ten centimeters – were still on. For the briefest of moments, something passed through the beams of light and caused them to appear as if they jumped closer to them before it retreated.

Hera's cameras went out less than a minute later. Peacock, the other ROV, fared slightly better. Its cameras captured a yawning gulf opening beneath Hera, with shifting tendrils of black within blackness consuming the submersible before the connection between the surface and the ROVs was fully severed. Silence fell over the ship for a moment before the scientists on board, being rational people, began making plans to rescue the vehicles. Peacock would float, so its recovery was made the mission priority. By a small miracle, the ROV was found just as the sun began to dip below the horizon.

Hess was brought to the Peacock when it was found that clutched in one of the ROV’s claws was a fragment of stone unlike anything that she had seen before. She held the greenish stone in gloved hands, studying its makeup as best she could with the naked eye while diagnostics were run on the ROV behind her.

Ultimately, the Peacock had to be partially disassembled for maintenance, its cabling and circuitry laid bare on the deck much like the entrails of a sperm whale back when the industry was at its height. Its cameras were fractured, seawater dripping from ruined, delicate electronics. The source of the damage and error was unknown, though many speculated it looked to be from a collision with something. It was the only way for the damage to have occurred, wasn’t it?

Hess wasn’t sure. Not when she was able to run a proper assessment on the stone back on shore and found that it was not of any known mineral makeup. Something was out there, sleeping underneath the ocean, and Hess feared it was beginning to stir.

#cthulhu mythos #writing #flash fiction

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hhvltd · 4 months

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Electron-Beam Technology

Electron beam (e-beam) sources are used for the evaporation of materials which have melting points above 1800C or which react with evaporation boats or filaments. Sources typically have a turret which can accommodate 4 to 8 crucibles which can be selected for multi-layer films.

#Ion Beam Technology #Thermal Evaporation System #Electron Beam Sources

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nothingrpgzone · 10 months

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Dungeon Crawl Meshi

I am a large fan of the manga dungeon meshi. I have been able to read it through my local library. I decided to write up a few things I have seen in it for use with dungeon crawl classics. Never been play tested or anything these are straight out the oven.

Food

Ration Types

Food is essential for proper adventuring, how is one to win gold and glory on an empty stomach.

There are 6 types of rations, categorized into fresh and preserved. Dire and Delightful meals have special effects. A ration counts as enough food for a day.

Rations are expressed as Type| Cost| How long it lasts| special effect

Dire Fresh Rations| NA| 1 week| The consumer must make a DC 12 Fort save or become sickened, suffering a -2 penalty to all rolls for the following day.

Fresh Ration| 8cp| 1 week| No affect

Delightful Fresh Rations| 15cp| 1 week| Luck rolls made while recovering the body are rolled with a d16, the consumer gains a +2 bonus to all physical rolls for the following day.

Dire Preserved Rations| 1cp| 3 months| Luck rolls made while recovering the body are rolled with a d30, and the consumer is sickened, suffering a -3 penalty to rolls for the following day.

Preserved Ration| 5cp| 3 months| No Effect.

Delightful Preserved Rations| 10cp| 3 months| The consumer gains a +2 bonus to all physical rolls for the following day.

Making Food

Making fresh rations from foraged or butchered materials requires a Skill check. A judge determines what an appropriate DC for making the meal would be, with a traditional meal made with the highest quality ingredients being a DC 4 and scrounged together meal made from unappetising monster scraps being a DC 17.

Failing the skill check results in a Dire Fresh Ration. Succeeding the skill check by more than 5 results in a Delightful Fresh Ration.

At the judge’s discretion a failed skill check means the ration is standard instead of dire, such as in circumstances with extremely high quality ingredients. Additionally a failed check can also have worse outcomes, such as incomplete removal of a poison sack, or parasitic infection.

Making preserved rations ingredients can be turned into preserved rations via the use of various methods such as sun drying, salting, honeying, dry aging, and pickling. The various methods take various amounts of time as determined by the judge. The quality of preserved rations be them Dire, Delightful, or standard is determined by the judge based on the quality of the ingredients used.

Going Without Food

Day Effect

1 The adventurer does not naturally regain any Ability Score Damage.

2-3 The adventurer does not naturally regain any HP.

4 The adventure begins suffering 1 Stamina damage per day.

5+ As above, but the adventure also suffers 1 point of Strength or Agility damage (determined randomly) per day.

Feeding Hirelings

A hireling’s Morale rolls are modified by the type of meal they last ate.

Dire Fresh -1

Ordinary Fresh +2

Delightful Fresh +5

Dire Preserved -3

Ordinary Preserved +0

Delightful Preserved +2

Spells

Dazzling Lights

Level: 1 (wizard and elf)

Range: 50’

Duration: Instantaneous

Casting time: 1 action

Save: Fort

General: The caster makes a dazzling display to confuse their foes. This spell counterspells Darkness. Sightless creatures are immune.

Manifestation: Roll 1d4 1) the caster’s hands begin glowing before a sudden flash; 2) motes of dust suddenly appear before all bursting into light; 3) a beam of light emerges from the mouth of the caster; 4) the world suddenly becomes bright as if lit from all directions but without a noticeable source.

Corruption: Roll 1d5 1-2) Minor corruption; 3) light begins emanating from the caster’s eyes at all time, illuminating what is 5’ in front of them; 4) any candle the caster touches automatically lights; 5) The caster becomes blinded in one eye.

Misfire: Roll 1d4 1) The caster forgets all passwords they have; 2) The caster lets out a small electronic pulse bit flipping and corrupting all storage within 10’; 3) The begins transferring their thoughts over both radio and bluetooth for 1 turn; 4) The caster accidentally uploads visuals of an embarrassing memory online.

1 Lost, failure, and worse! Roll 1d6 modified by Luck: (0 or less) corruption + patron taint + misfire; (1-2) corruption; (3) patron taint (or corruption if no patron); (4+) misfire.

2-11 Lost. Failure

12-13 A dazzling display flashes in the face of a single target, disorienting them, dropping them to the bottom of initiative order and inflicting a -4 penalty on their next attack.

14-17 Light hits directly into the eyes of a foe, they drop to the bottom of initiative and suffer a -6 penalty to all rolls until the end of their next turn.

18-19 In a flash a single foe must make a Will save or be blinded for a turn. If a creature is blinded it suffers a -5 penalty to Reflex saves as it is disoriented, in addition to a -4 penalty to all other actions for a turn.

20-23 Light explodes all around the caster CL creatures closest to the source of light must make a Fort save or be blinded for a turn. If a creature is blinded it suffers a -5 penalty to Reflex saves as it is disoriented, in addition to a -4 penalty to all other actions for a turn.

24-27 The light is overwhelming, CL + 4 creatures closest to the source of the light must make a Fort save or be blinded for a turn. On a successful save the creatures are only blinded for CL minutes, and suffer a -7 to all rolls in their disorientation for a turn.

28-29 The light burns, CL + 5 creatures closest to the source of the light must make a fort save or be blinded for a day. While blinded the creatures suffer -10 to all checks for the remaining day.

30-31 A single and overwhelming light bursts forth, CL+ 6 creatures of the caster’s choosing must make a Fort save or go blind for a month, only going blind for a week on a successful save.

32+ A wall of blinding light 30’ wide manifests, anything on the business side of the wall that can see is blinded permanently, and passes out.

Warp

Level: 2 (elf only)

Range: Varies

Duration: Instantaneous

Casting time: 1 action

Save: Fort

General: The caster can teleport themselves to places they are familiar with on the same plane of existence. At higher levels the caster can teleport one additional creature and at greater and greater distances. Unwilling teleporters are afforded a Fort save to avoid being spatially displaced.

Manifestation: 1d3 1) The caster simply vanishes from where they are and appear at their desired location. 2) The caster melts into a shadow before their shadow rushes off at hyperlight speed to their desired location. 3) A light mist suddenly surrounds the caster and their desired location, they fade in and then back out of the mist.

Corruption: Roll 1d6) 1) Greater. 2) Major. 3) Minor. 4) The caster becomes slightly translucent, each time this result is rolled the caster becomes more and more translucent until the 6th time and they simply fade some existence. 5) The caster loses their sense of direction, any future attempts to cast this spell has a 25% chance to teleport to the wrong location. 6) The caster becomes spatially unstable, any critical hit scored against them causes them to teleport to a random spot within 60’ of their location, this can include into walls.

Misfire: Roll 1d4 1) A caster shaped chunk of ground or other such material appears above their head and begins falling towards them, DC 14 Ref save to avoid it landing on them. 2) The caster is teleported to a random location within a mile that they are not familiar with. 3) The caster’s memory of the location they wish to teleport to is wiped 4) The caster teleports themselves to where they stood, lying prone and suffering 1 damage from the trip.

1 Lost, failure, and worse! Roll 1d5 modified by Luck: (0 or less) corruption + patron taint + misfire; (1-2) corruption; (3) patron taint; (4+) misfire.

2-11 Lost. Failure.

12-13 Failure, but spell is not lost.

14-15 The caster warps to a place they can see within 60’.

16-19 The caster warps to a place they can see within 60’. If they wish they can trigger this teleportation up to 1 round after the spell was cast.

20-21 The caster can warp themselves and one creature they are touching up to to a place the caster knows within 100’. If they wish they can trigger this teleportation up to CL rounds after the spell was cast.

22-25 The caster can warp themselves and one creature they are touching to a place the caster knows within 140’. If they wish they can trigger this teleportation up CL minutes after the spell is cast.

26-29 The caster can warp themself, and/or a creature they are touching yo a place the caster knows within 140’. If they wish they can trigger this teleportation up to CL + 2 minutes after the spell is cast.

30-31 The caster can warp themself, and/or a creature they can see within 10’ to a place the caster knows within 160’. If they wish they can trigger this teleportation up to CL + 10 minutes after the spell is cast.

32-33 The caster can warp themself, and/or a creature within 20’ to a place the caster knows within 200’ of their current location. The caster can teleport the other creature into the ground or walls if they wish, displaying the matter 1 for 1 to where the creature once stood. If they wish they can trigger this teleportation up to CL turns after the spell was cast.

34+ The caster can warp themself, and/or a creature they can see to a place the caster knows within 400’ of their current location. The caster can teleport the other creature into the ground or walls if they wish, displaying the matter 1 for 1 to where the creature once stood. If they wish they can trigger this teleportation up to CL turns after the spell was cast.

In addition the caster may spellburn to keep themselves spatially fluid, 1 point per 3 turns of fluidity. While spatially fluid the caster may make a luck check to teleport directly behind the source of a would be successful attacker.

Water Walking

Level: 1 (cleric) 2 (wizard)

Range: 10’

Duration: 1 hour.

Casting time: 1 action

Save: Will

General: The caster is able to walk on the surface of water as if it was solid ground, at higher casting the spell is able to bring things from the depths to the surface with a great speed. Unwilling creatures can make a will save to avoid the effects of the spell.

Manifestation: Roll 1d3: (1) water freezes directly under the target and turns back to water as soon as they move away (2) the water underneath the target gently molds and wraps itself to support the creature (3) a faint light shimmers in a hard plane right above the water just where the target stands.

1-11 Failure.

12-13 The caster is able to walk on water at normal speed.

14-17 The caster is able to walk on water with a +5’ bonus to speed.

18-19 The caster and CL allies are able to walk on water with a +5’ bonus to speed.

20-23 The caster and CL allies within range are able to walk on water with a +5’ bonus to speed.

24-27 The caster and CL creatures within range are able to walk on water with a +5’ bonus to speed. In addition any target under water begins rising towards the surface at a speed of 15’ per round.

28-29 The caster and CL+3 creatures within range are able to walk on water with a +5’ bonus to speed. In addition any target under water begins rising towards the surface at a speed of 15’ per round. While rising the targets are encased in a bubble of air preventing them from drowning.

30-31 The caster and CL+5 creatures within range are able to walk on water with a +10’ bonus to speed. In addition any target under water begins rising towards the surface at a speed of 30’ per round. While rising the targets are encased in a bubble of air preventing them from drowning, and are unaffected by decompression.

32+ The caster and CL+7 creatures within range are able to walk on water with a +10’ bonus to speed. In addition any target under water begins rising towards the surface at a speed of 100’ per round. While rising the targets are encased in a bubble of air preventing them from drowning, and are unaffected by decompression. In addition the cleric can raise up medium sized human constructions (eg longboats) to the surface.

Magic Items

Adamantine Cook Shield

+2 AC, -1 check penalty. D8 fumble.

The Adamantine Cook shield is incredibly good at distributing heat, any ray of fire (e.g. dragon's breath, scorching ray) has a 50% chance of leaving the wielder unharmed.

When used by a dwarf for shield bashing an Adamantine Cook Shield deals 1d4 damage, and mighty deeds to push people with a shield are twice as effective.

When used as a wok the shield imparts a +3 bonus to cooking skill checks

Living Staff

A magical staff imbued with life that connects all things. While in the possession of the staff a caster gains a 50% bonus rounded down to spellburn. For example if a caster burns 2 points of strength to cast a spell they gain a +3 Bonus. Additionally the staff has an internal Stamina score of 5, the caster can spellburn this Stamina on a 1 to 1 basis for bonus, the staff regains 1 Stamina per week without spellburn. A caster can utterly decimate the staff, turning it into dust in exchange for +25 to any single spell check.

#dcc #fantasy #dungeon meshi

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fortheloveoffanfic · 2 years

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Past Dark

Vampire!John Wick x Reader

Chapter 1

Masterlists Author's Note: Realized that I have never done anything for spooky season in the 3 (or 4, I can't remember) years that I've had this blog, so its time to change that. Summary: The Den doesn't exactly seem like Y/n's idea of a fun Friday night, but after she encounters the night club's mysterious owner, John, she finds herself becoming increasingly intrigued by him- and embroiled in the secret world of vampires. Chapter summary: Y/n unwittingly has her first encounter with John, one of New York's oldest vampires Warnings- Vampires, mentions of blood, mentions of mind control,

Sultry, electronic dance music blared from hidden speakers, and she could feel the music in her chest. The darkened club was only illuminated by strobing red lights and very dim, white bulbs, along with smaller lights fitted to the lip of the bar. The vast space and high ceiling reminded her of the kind of old warehouses she saw on television, but the charged atmosphere was electric and almost sensual.

Admittedly, it wasn’t the type of place she’d visit if the final decision was up to her, but it was her friend’s birthday and bailing because she ‘didn’t like the vibe’ was not an option. Besides, after a couple cocktails, punctuated by celebratory tequila shots, Y/n had started loosening up enough to try to enjoy the experience. Under the influence of enough alcohol to create a pleasant buzz, she thought that the exoticness of The Den was actually quite intriguing, from the paid dancers on platforms peppered about the area and the fog seeping from the edges of the room, to the people dancing so intimately close that they might as well have been having sex and private rooms off near the back. She wasn’t sure what the rooms were for exactly, but Y/n thought she could offer up a pretty good guess.

“Are you having fun?” A voice next to her rose above the music and Y/n glanced at its source; her roommate, Angie. She was holding what appeared to be a rum and coke in one hand, and a half smoked cigarette in the other. Angie wasn’t even a smoker, but she was the ‘try anything once type.’

“Uh….” Drawing in a sip of her gin and tonic, Y/n forced a nod, “Yeah, yeah,” she swallowed thickly, hoping she was selling her facade, “This place is really…..something. Where’d Jess,” the birthday girl, “Find out about it?”

“Not sure,” Angie shrugged indifferently, “Some guy….I think. Maybe from work?” She knitted her brows, “I don’t know.” Bringing the paper cylinder to her lips, Angie took an extended pull, only to burst into a violent coughing fit seconds later. Grimacing sympathetically, Y/n patted her friend on the back, only pulling away when she seemed to have things under control again. “Ugh,” she groaned, taking a sip from her drink as she turned to reach for an ashtray on the bar, “Do not ever try that,” she spat bitterly.

“I’m pretty sure you did that wrong,” Y/n joked, stirring her drink with the thin, red, decorative straw.

Angie hummed as she took another, longer drink from her glass, “Yeah, well, I’m never trying again, so,” she shook one shoulder. When they turned to face the rest of the club again, Angie grinned brightly, “Oh, he’s cute,” discreetly, she pointed to a guy not too far off, dressed simply in a black t-shirt with a leather jacket thrown over it and black jeans. It was a little strange, considering they were just passing the thick of summer, but before Y/n could point that out, Angie was moving away, “I’m gonna dance,” was all she offered before letting the crowd swallow her up.

Alone again, Y/n finished off her drink and once again turned towards the bar, that time with a sigh. Even if she was warming up to the club, she still was far from the kind of person that enjoyed dancing, especially alone and readily favored the idea of another drink to kill time instead. She was just raising her hand to call the bartender's attention, when he caught a glimpse of her and came over, beaming brightly. “Gin and tonic, right?” He was already reaching for a fresh glass under the counter along with a bottle of tonic water before grabbing a bottle of gin from one of the shelves behind him.

“Yeah,” she smiled faintly, “How’d you remember that?” There were so many other people at the bar, and he’d been the only bartender there since she’d arrived with her friends.

“How could I forget?” He winked, and Y/n chuckled softly. She had to admit- she was kind of cute; tall, with tousled dark hair and a bit of a five o’clock shadow. “This one’s on me,” he finished making the drink within a minute or two, and Y/n was a little surprised that he was done so quickly, but soon chucked his speed up to experience and the fact that it was a pretty easy drink.

“Are you sure?” She furrowed her brows, “My friends and I have a tab open.”

“I know,” the bartender dismissed, “But this one isn’t on it.”

Shocked, Y/n stuttered, “Alright,” she managed, still bewildered, “Thanks.” With a genuine response he returned to work, leaving Y/n to ponder the experience as she took that first sip of her drink, humming contentedly at the taste. Once again, turning so she could lean her back against the bar, Y/n let her eyes flit between a pair of dancers working on the platforms, legs and arms wrapped around the polls and each other, a couple heading towards one of the private rooms and then something she hadn’t noticed earlier; an apparently private box overlooking the main floor, with heavily tinted glass and no indication of who was inside.

Practically entranced, Y/n stared at the reflective glass, unable to tear her gaze away. She physically couldn’t; it felt like something was holding her in place as everything else around her- the lights, music and people- all faded away. Even thinking it seemed crazy, but she could have sworn that behind that sheet of dark tinted glass, there was someone looking back at her- looking into her.

He’d smelt her from the moment she walked through the front door, like jasmine and honey under a flowery perfume. Just her fragrance alone was enough to tell him she’d be incomparably delicious and the thought had been enough to sharpen his fangs. Blood usually smelt good- and tasted even better- but hers must have been divine. It had to be, and the thought of it wetting his tongue prompted him to lick his lips. The smell of her, that sweet aroma that coursed through her veins, had beckoned John to the front of the VIP box, and with his hands slipped into his pockets, he’d watched as she was joined by another young woman, who was nothing special, with a cigarette perched between her fingers and a tall glass in her hand.

Above the noise, he could hear their very inconsequential conversation, first about his club and then about the horridity of the cigarette. She had a nice voice he thought, and he was so wrapped up in her that he barely noticed the pair of slender arms sliding around his mid, fingers lacing at his sternum. He could feel a heartbeat against his back, contrasting with the emptiness in his own chest, and he could smell the sweet metallicness- but compared to the beauty he’d set his sights on, Christine, his usual Friday night feed, was as good as water from the Hudson River. Still, he let her do whatever she wanted; kiss the back of his neck and undo the top button of his navy shirt so her fingers could graze his cold skin.

John maintained his stare until she was left alone at the bar; her friends were on the dance floor and Will, the bartender, had returned to work. Everything after that required minimal effort on his part, John was actually surprised by how easy it was to slip into her mind; even at his age, influencing the thoughts of someone he’d never spoken to was usually a bit more trying, but with her it was as simple as having a regular conversation. Her mind was like a book written in pencil; so easily manipulated. She seemed…..vulnerable, naive even.

Hey there pretty girl, look at me.

Her eyes flitted around the room in absent gazes, but it wasn’t long before she was glancing upwards, fixing her stare on the dark, reflective glass wall, unintentionally meeting his eyes.

That’s it, sweetheart. Forget everything else.

Their locked gazes didn’t waver, though after a couple minutes like that, the young woman tilted her head curiously and slightly narrowed her eyes in confusion. It was almost as if she was slipping out of his control as she’d fallen into it and the idea was alarming; that had never happened before. In an instant, John had started to feel like he was warring for control, and worse yet, like she was seeing him- the way he was seeing her.

Stop!

He clenched his jaw, and even if there must have been fifty feet between them, give or take, he noted the slight jump in her shoulders signaling that she’d heard him. In his pockets, he clenched his balled fists tightly, while his mind worked to overcome hers.

Don’t worry about it. Its okay, just……look at me and relax.

When she hesitated, John pushed harder, forcing her to bend to his will. And bend she did. After he was finally reassured- and unchallenged- in his control, John compelled her to just relax, and the extended breath that seeped off her lips was proof that she’d heeded his order. They remained like that for a while, but it wasn’t long before the itch to get closer startled, pricking at John; seeing her wasn’t enough. He wanted to be close; he needed to taste her.

“Get the fuck off me,” he rolled shoulders, trying to get Christine off him, though, when she didn’t comply, John turned swiftly and shoved her away. A soft, huffed obscenity escaped her cherry hued lips and she landed clumsily in a plush sofa across the room.

“I’m still getting paid for tonight,” she protested furiously, righting her posture and absently rubbing the spot in her chest that he’d pushed. John didn’t pay any mind to her though, instead straightening his suit coat and slipping out of the room. He knew the place like the back of his hand, he’d only owned it for the better part of the past one hundred years. Quickly, he jogged down the stairs, shuffled out the side door and broke into the club’s main area.

Had he been younger, the sound of the loud music paired with over a hundred different breathing patterns and heartbeats, would have overwhelmed him. The smell of so much blood, mixing with liquor, illicit drugs, marijuana, perspiration and varying perfumes and colognes would have ushered in crushing nausea. But he was one of the oldest vampires in New York city and by then was immune to over-stimulation. In fact, even in the wake of hundreds of bodies filling the space, John could still pick her out.

He could hear the thump, thump, thumb, of her heartbeat above everyone else’s. Her soft, rhythmic breathing rose above the music and she still smelt like rare wine.

Weaving through the throng, not needing the aid of the flickering lights to guide his movements, John crossed the floor then made a path alongside the bar. He didn’t intend for their interaction to take any longer than a handful of seconds; he just needed to get close enough, really look into her eyes and get her where he needed her to be.

Within five minutes of being downstairs, John was approaching. She was still nursing the drink that he’d heard Will give her on the house. Usually, that was the sort of thing he’d reprimand, but for her, he’d let it slide.

By no intervention of his own, they locked eyes before he was within a couple feet of her, and John heard her suck in a sharp breath. Did she know it was him? That shouldn’t have been possible. Her heart quickened as he drew nearer, and her confusing reaction threw him. But John remained steadfast in his mission.

Tell me your name.

John heard her gasp again, then whisper softly, “Y/n.”

How pretty.

He smirked, observing the way the dancing red and blue lights flickered across her face, skewing her complexion while making her eyes seem darker and casting long shadows on her cheeks. He was finally moving past her, close enough to brush her shoulder and cause her to spill some of her drink on her dress and his shirt.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, glancing down at her gin and tonic water soaked neckline.

“Its okay,” he returned, gently holding her bare shoulders. He could tell that the coldness of his palms, countering the warmth of the club, had taken her aback by the wide eyed look on her face. Their gazes met again, and just like that he could feel her melting to his will. It was so confusing, the way she could flip between being easily influenced and pushing against his influence.

You feel the same way, you want me too. We’re connected now. You’ll come back.

With that, he let her arms go, leaving her standing there, bewildered.

2 days later. That was the second time that she’d been to The Den since Friday. Y/n wasn’t sure why, but she couldn’t stop think about the man that had bumped into her on that first night; she could have sworn that the strange chill of his touch had lingered on her skin, even if it had just been a couple seconds, and somehow, for some reason, she felt as if they were connected. It didn’t make sense, and Y/n knew that it would have sounded insane out loud, which was why she hadn’t told Angie before leaving on Saturday and then Sunday- she’d just gotten ready, made up an excuse about going to the library to work on her dissertation and left.

The club was quieter that night; there were less people and the music was softer. Y/n suspected that it was because most people were preparing for Monday. As she slid into an empty bar stool, the bartender, the same one from Friday- and then Saturday- came over. “You’re back,” he grinned broadly, “Gin and tonic again?”

“Uh….” At that point, Y/n thought that she must have been fifty percent gin and tonic, and determined that it couldn’t hurt to keep the trend going. “Yeah, thanks,” she smiled faintly. Discreetly, she looked around, hoping she’d catch a glimpse of the man she’d bumped into on Friday. It wasn’t even logical to keep going back there; the chances of him being a patron, just like she was, was pretty high and there was the very real possibility that she’d never see him again. But something inside her mind kept pushing her to keep going back. After just one, very brief encounter, Y/n had become a fiend; the compulsion was overwhelming.

“Looking for someone?” He peered, setting a glass down in front of her. Because there were so few people there that night, he was more available to hang around where she was and chat, even if she wasn’t really interested. For some irrational reason, Y/n had a bruising fear of being perceived as unavailable- if the man did return, she didn’t want him to be deterred from approaching her.

“No,” she lied easily, taking a slow sip of her highball cocktail, humming softly at the taste, “Thanks,” she gestured causally with the glass, hoping he would take that as his signal to leave.

The bartender smiled and nodded, “No problem,” with no haste, he cleaned up the area he’d used to make her drink, and just as he slung the white dishtowel over his shoulder, a couple near the end of the bar beckoned him over, “Let me know if you need anything else, yeah?” He tapped the counter and Y/n nodded, thanking her lucky stars when he finally left.

After he’d left, Y/n turned slightly in the bar stool, clutching the glass tightly in one hand, while toying absently with the hem of her velvet mini skirt with the other as she gazed around absently. She was just beginning to feel kind of silly, just sitting there, waiting for a man that had probably already forgotten her, when, finally, she caught a glimpse of him weaving through the thin crowd. Trying to seem busier than she was, Y/n shifted to face the bar again, bringing her glass between her hands and toying with the bottom of it as she kept her eyes trained forward.

Through her periphery, she saw when he slid into the vacant stool to her left, not paying mind to her as he fiddled with a pinky ring on his left hand, the thumb of the right one roving over the stone fitted to it. Desperately, she tried to keep her cool, but after about two minutes, she lost it. “Hi,” she turned to him, and simultaneously, he did the same, “I’m Y/n,” she offered her hand.

A hint of a smile graced his rugged features and Y/n swore her heart skipped, “John.” They shook and she couldn’t help but gasp at how cold his hand was. He could have been made of marble…..or dead.

Offer to buy me a drink.

Shaking her head at the peculiar thought, Y/n decided that she wouldn’t be deterred and Y/n carried on, “Can I…..” she shook her head again as heat rose to her cheeks, “Can I buy you a drink?” The man raised his brows in what she assumed was amusement and Y/n held her breath, hoping she hadn’t been too forward too fast.

“Why don’t I do you one better?” He offered, propping one elbow on the worn, wooden surface, “Would you like to join me in the VIP box?” Her stuttered acceptance ensued, and when John offered his hand, Y/n readily took it, allowing him to lead her across the dance floor and up the stairs and then into the glass room that she’d been staring at a couple days earlier.

He was the owner, apparently, and Y/n was in sheer shock from the minute she realized that she’d been practically stalking the owner of a popular nightclub because he’d bumped into her once. The thought made her feel a little crazy, but not crazy enough to mention it to John.

The VIP box, Y/n had quickly discovered, was almost a club of its own. It had its own facilities, a bar that seemed to stock on the most expensive of liquors, designer furniture peppered around the polished, tiled floor. Besides the pair of them, there were a few other people up there, most of them too rapt with each other to be bothered by her and John.

After he’d showed her to a small, vacant sofa, John went to the bar, ordering them a couple drinks before returning with a neat whiskey for him and a cranberry sour for her. They talked for a while, and every time he spoke, Y/n thought that she heard an age beyond his years in John’s voice. it was in the fluidity of every enunciation and the depth of his words, which all seemed to be very carefully thought through. Simply put, he was exceptionally impressive.

They must have spent at least two hours like that, just talking. John told her about losing his wife a few years ago and about his birthplace. Belarus. He’d also mentioned that before he'd adopted Jonathon, his name had actually been Jardani, and Y/n had been sure to mention that she thought it was beautiful. In turn, she’d shared some information about where she was from and why she was in New York- grad school. She’d also told him about her first visit to The Den, with her friends, but not about why she’d kept coming back.

At the end of the night, John had asked her to dinner and just before she could respond, she’d heard that voice in her head, the one that had told her they were connected two nights ago, the one that had prompted her to ask if she could buy him a drink downstairs.

Say you’d love to.

Again, the voice was hard to ignore. Again, she had no choice but to listen. Her will had turned to water and even if the voice was foreign, the thought was her own. It had to be, it was the only thing that made sense, and so, she smiled giddily and offered sweetly; “I’d love to.”

#keanu reeves #john wick #keanu reeves x reader #john wick x reader #john wick fanfic #keanu reeves x you #john wick x you #past dark

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ariel-seagull-wings · 1 year

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FICTIONAL CHARACTER ASK: WINSTON ZEDDEMORE

@spengnitzed @bixiebeet @angelixgutz @themousefromfantasyland @amalthea9 @thealmightyemprex @goodanswerfoxmonster @stantzed

@the-blue-fairie

Favorite Thing About Them: I like that fact that while he is meant to be an audience surrogate, at least in the first movie this was not used as an excuse to make him boring, but instead he felt like a real person with motivations and a personality: he is a down on his luck working class man who is intrigued by this booming Ghostbusters business who decides to become a new team member in search of a good job to survive, quickly believes what he sees and learns how to handle the new technology, becomes good friends with the other Ghostbusters, specially Ray, and starts to make reflexions about his faith as a christian the more he comes into contact with supernatural incidents, wich is a source of strenght and confidence when he goes to face Gozer and thinks that he may die at any moment.

Later, in the animated series The Real Ghostbusters and the IDW licensed comics, we learned new aspects of Winston’s character that made him a more palpable person: He loves baseball, is a huge enthusiast of mystery novels to the point that this becomes an advantage when he needs to investigate a new ghost activity, would sometimes go to save the day on his own, and even fell in love and got married!

Least Favorite Thing About Them: The fact that his role was reduced to “pawn that is there” when the sequel Ghostbusters 2 was made, rather than the writers taking advantage of making a sequel to further develop his character.

Three Things I Have In Common With Them:

* I have black heritage;

* I am curious;

* I also resource to fictional literature for information;

Three Things I Don’t Have In Common With Them:

* Unlike many portrayals of his character, I never did military service;

* I’m not US american;

* I would be way more pedantic in differentiate between a summerian and a babylonian deity;

Favorite Line:

From the July 1983 Script Draft:

“I’d like to see Dr. Venkman.”

“I saw your ad in the paper. You know, for a security man.”

“... after ECM school at Kelly Air Force Base in Texas I flew for S.A.C Command at Reese as an Electronic Warfare Officer. After the service I was head of Installations for Sentry Alarm Systems in Los Angeles, then I moved up to V.P. at their Pacific headquarters. Then some partners and I started our own optic beam manufacturing operation, but we got wiped out in the microlens flood of ‘82.”

“I have a ninth degree black belt in Wing Chun boxing. I have a Class 3 Federal firearm’s license and I have permits to carry anywhere in the continental United States. What kind of risk are you talking about?”

“Brave man.”

“Okay, now you could have three aces because you already had two and you got one out of your sleeve. But I’m not sure which card you took out of your shoe before.”

“I’m willing to take your word on this, Ray, because I respect you. But if we ever really do see the kind of stuff you’re talking about, I’m counting on you. I know these guys are your friends, but...”

“This bites it, man. We’re running out of ways to kill time.”

“Zeddemore. Z-E-D-D-E-”

“What’d you get?”

“You guys look like shit.”

“Forget it, man! The phone’s been ringing off the hook.”

“Neutronize. System shut.”

“I have to get some sleep, man. I worked all night last night.”

“I can’t look anymore. It’s too depressing. What are they doing here anyway? I tought when you die you see a beautifull white light and pass trough it to the other side.”

“What’s the Tunguska Blast?”

“Sounds like the Russians detonated a hydrogen bomb.”

“I don’t believe we drove all the way up here and didn’t get anything.”

“You made a contact? Why didn’t you call me? What was it?”

“That figures. The head Ranger thinks it’s the spirit of a girl who was kept by the officers back in the 1830′s or 40′s.”

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“Must be a big fire, huh?”

“Look at that weird light by the river.”

“Oh... shiiit...”

“I’m Winston Zeddemore, your Honor. I came to work with these gentlemen when they first went into private practice... and I didn’t believe any of this either. I’m a highly trained engineer. I’ve done two hitches as a flying officer in the strategic Air Command. I’ve been all over the world and I’ve seen lots of strange things, so I can tell you with complete confidence that these ocurrences are real. Since I joined these men I have seen shit that would turn you white.”

From the September 1983 Script Draft:

“Let me ask you something. The ad in the paper just said "Help Wanted." What's the job?”

“Not really. However, if there's a semi-regular paycheck in it I'll believe anything you say.”

“Yeah, I heard that. Now tell me 89/89a Omitted what you really do.”

“Hey man. What is it you're so involved with there?”

“Busy time of year.”

“Right. We'll believe anything.”

“We're gonna get five years for this. Plus they're gonna make us retrap all those spooks. I knew I shouldn't have taken this job.”

“This is insane! You actually believe Lhat some moldy Babylonian God is going to drop in at 78th and Central Park West and start tearing up the city?”

“Maybe we should go downstairs and call first?”

“Well, she's not here. Let's go.”

“Let's get out of here!”

“Now he's mad.”

“He looks like my high school principal.”

“You should've said "yes!" He might have been willing to negotiate.”

“We did it! Thank God!”

“Good. Now we made him mad.”

From the 1984 Final Film Script:

“Ray, when someone asks you if you're a god, you say, "Yes!"”

“And we have the tools. We have the talent!”

“My mind is totally blank.”

“What did you do, Ray? Aw, shit!”

“This job is definitely not worth another eleven-five a year.”

“I'm all right. You all right?”

“I love this town! Ha ha!”

brOTP: Peter Venkman, Ray Stantz, Egon Spengler, Janine Melnitz, Dana Barrett, Louis Tully, Walter Peck, Slimer, Buster, the siblings Megan and Kenny Carter, Alan, Elaine Phermon, Louise, Cyntia Crawford, DyTyllio, Bryan Welsh, Jenny Moran, Dani Shpak, Lou Kamaka, Melanie Ortiz, Kylie Griffin, Eduardo Rivera, Garrett Miller, Roland Jackson, Marie Laveau.

OTP: Ray Stantz, Tiyah Clarke, @spengnitzed OC Regina.

nOTP: Tiamat.

Random Headcanon: His parents camed from Lansing, Michigan, while Winston and his siblings (two brothers and three sisters) are born and growed up in the Bronx, New York City.

Unpopular Opinion: I find the IDW comics arc where the villain Tiamat (a sibling of Gozer) erases the memory of Winston’s marriage to his wife Tiyah Clarke of everybody except him unecessarily cruel, and prefer to ignore this event happened in favour of imagining they are still together and happy.

Songs I Associate With Them:

Summertime

Não Tenho Medo da Morte

Se eu Quiser Falar com Deus

Never Giving Up

Have a Little Faith in Me

Favorite Picture of Them:

Ernie Hudson in the 1984 movie

In the IDW licensed comics (including a picture of him as a newborn baby alongside his parents)

In the animated series The Real Ghostbusters

In the animated series Extreme Ghostbusters

#fictional character ask #character ask meme #fandom musings #pop culture #ghostbusters 1984 #ghostbusters novelization #idw ghostbusters #the real ghostbusters #extreme ghostbusters #winston zeddemore #arsenio hall #ernie hudson

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materialsscienceandengineering · 1 year

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Experiment demonstrates continuously operating optical fiber made of thin air

Researchers at the University of Maryland (UMD) have demonstrated a continuously operating optical fiber made of thin air.

The most common optical fibers are strands of glass that tightly confine light over long distances. However, these fibers are not well-suited for guiding extremely high-power laser beams due to glass damage and scattering of laser energy out of the fiber. Additionally, the need for a physical support structure means that glass fiber must be laid down long in advance of light signal transmission or collection.

Howard Milchberg and his group in UMD's Departments of Physics and Electrical & Computer Engineering and Institute for Research in Electronics & Applied Physics have demonstrated an optical guiding method that beats both limitations, using auxiliary ultrashort laser pulses to sculpt fiber optic waveguides in the air itself.

These short pulses form a ring of high-intensity light structures called "filaments," which heat the air molecules to form an extended ring of low-density heated air surrounding a central undisturbed region; this is exactly the refractive index structure of an optical fiber. With air itself as the fiber, very high average powers can potentially be guided. And for collection of remote optical signals for detecting pollutants and radioactive sources, for example, the air waveguide can be arbitrarily "unspooled" and directed at the speed of light in any direction.