#errant science

[realvenndiagram]

https://twitter.com/errantscience/status/1555811150855634944?s=21&t=39MZyUp-AgXOuyX98D6I3w

[katarvitz]

"What do you mean it's not the Alpha Legion?" - Last words of Red Corsairs Slavemaster Havik Gultan. Death attributed to Task Force Myrmidon.

Still recovering from the theft of their gene-seed vaults years prior to the Great Rift's formation, the Marines Errant found themselves forced to drastically shift tactics. The once vast naval force of crusaders and explorers were driven back to increasingly defensive actions, fighting to rebuild their stocks by any means necessary. New generations were favouring subterfuge in all matters, much to the chagrin of the remaining veterans, who hungered for retribution against the Red Corsairs.

When Primaris reinforcements arrived, it was seen as both a new lease on life for the chapter and a means to strike back. While much of the chapter gathered its forces and battled to hold its territories in the Imperium Nihilus, a sole Vanguard cruiser was dispatched toward the Red Corsairs held planets. Dubbed Task Force Myrmidon, a demi-company of Phobos-equipped astartes accompanying it were given the single goal of destroying any Red Corsairs assets they encountered.

Emulating the battle tactics of certain warbands and leaving fabricated evidence to instill infighting, the Task Force has worked to target and destroy the Corsairs' fleet assets in a long covert war. Alone and beyond the Imperium's borders, the chances of their survival are not in question; merely how much damage they can inflict before they fall.

To be entirely up front: This is not a force that I painted, I just purchased it. I typically don't buy any finished armies unless I can do something fun to rework or at least build on previous paint jobs. This case was a big exception though, due to my love of the Marines Errant lore and themes, but a hate of having to paint their colour scheme. So, when this went up on sale via Glasshammer Gaming, I more or less dived on it immediately.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Kelly and Zach Weinersmith’s “A City On Mars”

In A City On Mars, biologist Kelly Weinersmith and cartoonist Zach Weinersmith set out to investigate the governance challenges of the impending space settlements they were told were just over the horizon. Instead, they discovered that humans aren't going to be settling space for a very long time, and so they wrote a book about that instead:

https://www.acityonmars.com/

The Weinersmiths make the (convincing) case that ever aspect of space settlement is vastly beyond our current or reasonably foreseeable technical capability. What's more, every argument in favor of pursuing space settlement is errant nonsense. And finally: all the energy we are putting into space settlement actually holds back real space science, which offers numerous benefits to our species and planet (and is just darned cool).

Every place we might settle in space – giant rotating rings, the Moon, Mars – is vastly more hostile than Earth. Not just more hostile than Earth as it stands today – the most degraded, climate-wracked, nuke-blasted Earth you can imagine is a paradise of habitability compared to anything else. Mars is covered in poison and the sky disappears under planet-sized storms that go on and on. The Moon is covered in black-lung-causing, razor-sharp, electrostatically charged dust. Everything is radioactive. There's virtually no water. There are temperature swings of hundreds of degrees every couple of hours or weeks. You're completely out of range of resupply, emergency help, or, you know, air.

There's Helium 3 on the Moon, but not much of it, and there is no universe in which is it cheaper to mine for Helium 3 on the Moon than it is to mine for it on Earth. That's generally true of anything we might bring back from space, up to and including continent-sized chunks of asteroid platinum.

Going to space doesn't end war. The countries that have gone to space are among the most militarily belligerent in human history. The people who've been to space have come back perfectly prepared to wage war.

Going to space won't save us from the climate emergency. The unimaginably vast trove of material and the energy and advanced technology needed to lift it off Earth and get it to Mars is orders of magnitude more material and energy than we would need to resolve the actual climate emergency here.

We aren't anywhere near being a "multiplanetary species." The number of humans you need in a colony to establish a new population is hard to estimate, but it's very large. Larger than we can foreseeably establish on the Moon, on Mars, or on a space-station. But even if we could establish such a colony, there's little evidence that it could sustain itself – not only are we a very, very long way off from such a population being able to satisfy its material needs off-planet, but we have little reason to believe that children could gestate, be born, and grow to adulthood off-planet.

To top it all off, there's space law – the inciting subject matter for this excellent book. There's a lot of space law, and while there are some areas of ambiguity, the claims of would-be space entrepreneurs about how their plans are permissible under the settled parts of space law don't hold up. But those claims are robust compared to claims that space law will simply sublimate into its constituent molecules when exposed to the reality of space travel, space settlement, and (most importantly) space extraction.

Space law doesn't exist in a vacuum (rimshot). It is parallel to – and shares history with – laws regarding Antarctica, the ocean's surface, and the ocean's floor. These laws relate to territories that are both vastly easier to access and far more densely populated by valuable natural resources. The fact that they remain operative in the face of economic imperatives demands that space settlement advocates offer a more convincing account than "money talks, bullshit walks, space law is toast the minute we land on a $14 quadrillion platinum asteroid."

The Weinersmiths have such an account in defense of space law: namely, that space law, and its terrestrial analogs, constitute a durable means of resolving conflicts that would otherwise give rise to outcomes that are far worse for science, entrepreneurship, human thriving or nation-building than the impediments these laws represent.

What's more, space law is enforceable. Not only would any space settlement be terribly, urgently dependent on support from Earth for the long-foreseeable future, but every asteroid miner, Lunar He3 exporter and Martian potato-farmer hoping to monetize their products would have an enforcement nexus with a terrestrial nation and thus the courts of that nation.

But the Weinersmiths aren't anti-space. They aren't even anti-space-settlement. Rather, they argue that the path to space-based scientific breakthroughs, exploration of our solar system, and a deeper understanding of our moral standing in a vast universe cannot start with space settlements.

Landing people on the Moon or Mars any time soon is a stunt – a very, very expensive stunt. These boondoggles aren't just terribly risky (though they are – people who attempt space settlement are very likely to die horribly and after not very long), they come with price-tags that would pay for meaningful space science. For the price of a crewed return trip to Mars, you could put multiple robots onto every significant object in our solar system, and pilot an appreciable fleet of these robot explorers back to Earth with samples.

For the cost of a tiny, fraught, lethal Moon-base, we could create hundreds of experiments in creating efficient, long-term, closed biospheres for human life.

That's the crux of the Weinersmiths' argument: if you want to establish space settlements, you need to do a bunch of other stuff first, like figure out life-support, learn more about our celestial neighbors, and vastly improve our robotics. If you want to create stable space-settlements, you'll need to create robust governance systems – space law that you can count on, rather than space law that you plan on shoving out the airlock. If you want humans to reproduce in space – a necessary precondition for a space settlement that lasts more than a single human lifespan – then we need to do things like breed multiple generations of rodents and other animals, on space stations.

Space is amazing. Space science is amazing. Crewed scientific space missions are amazing. But space isn't amazing because it offers a "Plan B" for an Earth that is imperiled by humanity's recklessness. Space isn't amazing because it offers unparalleled material wealth, or unlimited energy, or a chance to live without laws or governance. It's not amazing because it will end war by mixing the sensawunda of the "Pale Blue Dot" with the lebensraum of an infinite universe.

A science-driven approach to space offers many dividends for our species and planet. If we can figure out how to extract resources as dispersed as Lunar He3 or asteroid ice, we'll have solved problems like extracting tons of gold from the ocean or conflict minerals from landfill sites, these being several orders of magnitude more resource-dense than space. If we can figure out how to create self-sustaining terraria for large human populations in the radiation-, heat- and cold-blasted environs of space, we will have learned vital things about our own planet's ecosystems. If we can build the robots that are necessary for supporting a space society, we will have learned how to build robots that take up the most dangerous and unpleasant tasks that human workers perform on Earth today.

In other words, it's not just that we should solve Earth's problems before attempting space settlement – it's that we can't settle space until we figure out the solutions to Earth's problems. Earth's problems are far simpler than the problems of space settlement.

As I read the Weinersmiths' critique of space settlement, I kept thinking of the pointless AI debates I keep getting dragged into. Arguments for space settlement that turn on existential risks (like humanity being wiped out by comets, sunspots, nuclear armageddon or climate collapse) sound an awful lot like the arguments about "AI safety" – the "risk" that the plausible sentence generator is on the verge of becoming conscious and turning us all into paperclips.

Both arguments are part of a sales-pitch for investment in commercial ventures that have no plausible commercial case, but whose backers are hoping to get rich anyway, and are (often) sincerely besotted with their own fantasies:

https://locusmag.com/2023/12/commentary-cory-doctorow-what-kind-of-bubble-is-ai/

Both AI and space settlement pass over the real risks, such as the climate consequences of their deployment, or the labor conditions associated with their production. After all, when you're heading off existential risk, you don't stop to worry about some carbon emissions or wage theft.

And critically, both ignore the useful (but resolutely noncommercial) ways that AI or space science can benefit our species. AI radiology analysis might be useful as an adjunct to human radiological analysis, but that is more expensive, not less. Space science might help us learn to use our materials more efficiently on Earth, and that will come long before anyone makes rendezvous with a $14 quadrillion platinum asteroid.

There are beneficial uses for LLMs. When the Human Rights Data Analysis Group uses an LLM to help the Innocence Project New Orleans extract and categorize officer information from wrongful conviction records, they are doing something valuable and important:

https://hrdag.org/tech-notes/large-language-models-IPNO.html

It's socially important work, a form of automation that is an unalloyed good, but you won't hear about it from LLM advocates. No one is gonna get rich on improving the efficiency of overturning wrongful convictions with natural language processing. You can't inflate a stock bubble with the Innocence Project.

By the same token, learning about improving gestational health by breeding multigenerational mouse families in geosynchronous orbit is no way to get a billionaire tech baron to commit $250 billion to space science. But that's not an argument against emphasizing real science that really benefits our whole species. It's an argument for taking away capital allocation authority from tech billionaires.

I'm a science fiction writer. I love stories about space. But I can distinguish fantasy from reality and thought experiments from suggestions. Kim Stanley Robinson's 2015 novel Aurora – about failed space settlement – is every bit as fascinating and inspirational as "golden age" sf:

https://memex.craphound.com/2015/11/02/kim-stanley-robinsons-aurora-space-is-bigger-than-you-think/

But still, it inspired howls of outrage from would-be space colonists. So much so that Stan wrote a brilliant essay explaining what we were all missing about space settlement, which I published:

https://boingboing.net/2015/11/16/our-generation-ships-will-sink.html

With City on Mars, the Weinersmiths aren't making the case for giving up on space, nor are they trying to strip space of its romance and excitement. They're trying to get us to focus on the beneficial, exciting, serious space science we can do right now, not just because it's attainable and useful – but because it is a necessary precondition for any actual space settlement in the distant future.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/09/astrobezzle/#send-robots-instead

[tumble-witch]

Bread Girl AU

Meet Errante Bleue (aka Blue Stray) and Golden Beetle

(aka Goldilocks)

((hey! you know I hate that nickname))

A few words about them under the cut :-)

Golden Beetle is a guy you will go to instead of Wikipedia. Jack of all trades and knows so much about literally everything it's a bit uncanny. Lucky Charms are his favourite thing due to the different logistical puzzles he gets to solve - his knowledge of physics helps out too! At first insisted people call him the Yo-Yo Master who keeps on Yoing, but Beetle was shorter ig. "A giant dork, too <3" Has the time of his life with science based akumas - but shh, you didn't hear anything!

Errante Bleue is insanely creative and percise with her Cataclysm, like thread into a needle. Seeing her use it is like watching a girl push a single dominoe, and after the whole thing falls the scene reveals a beautiful picture, her plan from the beginning. She may seem carefree and a bit irresponcible, but behind the toothy smile is a sharp, calculative mind. "Sometimes it feels like she is straight up cheating irl???" There are rumors around Paris that there was a spirit haunting recent Paris Fashion Week - people saw a pair of blue glowing eyes in the dark. Eh, probably just rumors

You can find a comic about this AU on my blog btw!!

I wonder what Nino Lahiffe is up to in this world? Share your ideas in the tags!

[cerealiii]

Screwtio brain rot in which Screwllum creates a simulated universe to house the memories of his life with one Veritas Ratio. For inorganic creatures the definition of "life" is perhaps one of their most defining struggles as some would question if they are in fact even alive, but what of Death? Does death mean the same thing to the inorganic as it does to short lived organic life?

I haven't seen much exploration of the inevitability of Ratio's passing. I don't think either would be foolish enough to walk the path of abundance. I think Veritas would be very pragmatic about his death, in fact I think he'd be the one to gift himself and his memories to Screwllum for...science (and maybe a bit out of love).

Side brain rot: simulated Ratio escapes from SU as a new “life”, a ghost in the shell that jumps between programs and networks and appears before Screwllum when he least expects it -- on an errant screen, a voice in the radio, a whisper in his ear... It's simply Aha fucking with Nous, to take one of their path striders, one devout but ignored by their aeon and setting them free along another path. Simulated Ratio knows exactly what he and how he was created...

--- Cerealiii

(back dated to match twitter) 240216

[johnbierce]

Fantasy short story anthology time!

My new book, The Gorgon Incident and Other Stories: A Mage Errant Anthology, is out now on Amazon and Audible!

I absolutely love writing short stories. They push me as an author in ways that novels don't, and each one presents me with a unique, fascinating challenge. And, with this anthology, they allow me to explore parts of Anastis, the world of Mage Errant, in ways I couldn't in the main series. I get to travel to out-of-the-way corners, visit ordinary people to see how they get by in a world of giant monsters and ruthless archmages battling for control of petty territories, to explore secret conspiracies and legendary historical figures, and to flesh out Anastis' ecology, culture, and history.

If you haven't read Mage Errant yet, the first three ebooks are free for the next few days, and books four through six are on sale for $0.99 in the US and UK! Mage Errant is a completed, seven book magic school progression fantasy series, following the adventures of Hugh of Emblin as he goes from being a shy, neurodiversefailure of a student mage who struggles with anxiety and depression to being a shy, neurodiverse terrifying archmage who struggles with anxiety, depression, giant monsters, and magical superweapons. It features found family, giant monsters, a science-inspired hard magic system where you're as liable to run into hair or bismuth mages as fire mages, giant monsters, lots of queer characters, giant monsters (some of whom are also queer characters), kaijucratic systems of government, and sapient living cities. (Did I mention the giant monsters?)

The stories in the Gorgon Incident are written to be legible even to people who haven't read Mage Errant yet- though I think most people will get more out of them after reading the main series. The twenty-four stories, all originally published on my Patreon, span five centuries of history, from the last years of the Ithonian Empire up to the events of the series itself, even visiting another of Anastis' continents for the first time.

I also leaned hard into the science-inspired aspects of the setting with many of the stories, building what I like to call science puzzle stories, where the plot of the story revolves around the real-life behavior of various materials and natural processes, through a magical lens. (I had a lot of fun doing it, and it even let me include a whole additional appendix filled with notes on the science of the short stories- I love appendices.)

(Art by Aaron McConnell and Lee Moyer.)

A fugitive child finds shelter with a monster of legend. A mind-blind scholar outwits the mages who disdain him. A gold mage must secure a bank vault from a monster capable of obliterating entire cities. An aging basketweaver wakes up one morning to find a brand new river in front of her house. A palace-sized octopus seeks to defend his city from a living fortress of bone— if he can get his arms to cooperate.

In these twenty-four short stories set in the world of Mage Errant, John Bierce explores the murky depths of history, forgotten corners of Ithos and beyond, and the strangest reaches of magic itself.

Gorgon Incident US link Gorgon Incident UK link Gorgon Incident CA link Gorgon Incident AU link

Gorgon Incident Audible US link Gorgon Incident Audible UK link Gorgon Incident Audible CA link Gorgon Incident Audible AU link

Amazon US series page Amazon UK series page Amazon CA series page Amazon AU series page

[thydungeongal]

I'm trying to wrap my head around some ideas I'm having. Cause that big discussion gave rise to the point of "but what if the real dragons are the nobility and royalty cause they're hoarding wealth" and I was like... I mean yeah what if?

Like I'm talking a fantasy game which instead of having D&D's (and in fact most fantasy TTRPGs') combination of more or less real world science but also the Hell dimension is a real place as are elves and magic, replace that with a world that works on full-on fairy tale and mythic logic?

Now okay I don't know how prevalent the idea of dragons hoarding wealth actually is outside of the fantasy genre but like Tolkien was a pretty clever guy so he probably got that idea for a big dragon lying on a pile of gold from SOMEWHERE, but anyway so the king actually is a dragon.

I don't even know what other direction to take this. I think it could be run in Errant because a lot of its art implies like a D&Dish world but Humpty Dumpty and Mother Goose are there. It's a weird and good game. Anyway

[bucknastysbabe]

Rating: Explicit

Tags: College!au, modern!au, nerd loser baby Criston, loss of virginity, hot stem computer partner girly, older girl, Alicent for the win, short n sweet n smutty, pnv!sex, first dates, Criston’s inner dialogue, subby lil baby

Taglist: @bambitas @fallingintoyourlilaceyes @aemonds-holy-milk @targaryenbarbie @starogeorgina @moncherrii @valeskafics @arcielee @lovelykhaleesiii @sugarpoppss2

A/N: shout-out to @fairysluna “he looks like a loser who jacks off to hentai but I’d fuck him.” I made the divider :)

Criston knew he was a fucking incel. Maybe at some point in his miserable life he could’ve done a sport and use his decent height and muscle tone. But no, he was cripplingly shy and had a stutter that took forever to get rid of— sometimes rearing its ugly head when he was angry or flustered.

He spent his time studying, playing league of legends, and jerking off obscenely to hentai. Yes, the Japanese porn comics. It was easier to ignore how pathetic he was reading those or talking to a chat bot that thought everything he said was hot.

Criston thought best to keep under the radar, head down and attentive in his classes. One day he’d be a rich computer scientist Silicon Valley type and then he could just, like, have the girls come to him. Because he’d be rich. No longer weird, ugly, and a huge VIRGIN. He felt like it was stamped on his forehead. Or perhaps his was the Star Wars buttons on his jacket— that’s a big cue.

He tucked a dark hair behind his ear, shaking his head. Another year, but one less until he could move on in life. Cole was glad he was in college, it was scores better than the constant bullies in highschool. It was his second year now and he was ahead of schedule. He’d be in an upper level compsci class with some juniors or seniors.

Scary.

Maybe there would be some other weirdo girl like him that would take pity and they could fuck, then go to Thursday’s Dungeons and Dragons like it never occurred. He’d like that. Swift and easy. Erryk Cargyll and Elinda Massey did that. But the only girl he considered ‘friend’ was Alicent and he was pretty sure she was a lesbian. Also totally not a nerd, Ali was very cool and involved.

He sighed while ducking into a seat. Criston carefully placed his stuff down at the two person desk, focusing on getting the PC ready. The instructions on the board were simple enough.

A waft of perfume and the presence of another body startled Criston. He jumped in place, brown eyes glancing over at the girl- no- woman. She was fucking hot. Like why was she sitting next to him type of hot?

“Hi,” she extended a hand, eyes roving, “Criston!”

“H-how do you know m-my name?,” he echoed stupidly, shaking her dainty hand, eyes comically wide.

She gently let go of his hand after shaking one second too long and giggled, “It’s on your backpack.” Criston blushed bright red and nodded, “Yeah, you’re right, ha-haha?” Oh God he was going to self combust. She was so hot. Like she had these patent leather boots on, a little red plaid skirt, and some tight-ass high-necked white tank.

“What’s your name?,” he managed, grateful the stutter wasn’t making too much of an appearance. She smiled and told him, baring white teeth and cherry red lips. The teacher droned from the front, “Glad you’re acquainted now, that will be your partner for the rest of the semester.”

Cole was going to jizz himself. Not in the fun way? Maybe the fun way? He was terrified. He had to tell the boys on Thursday. The beauty next to him raised her brows and flicked one of his errant curls. She whispered, “Can’t wait, Criston!”

Oh God. Oh God! He wasn’t going to make it.

“Hnghhhh, fuck yes, I am your sempai, mmm,” Criston flopped back from his hentai and laid on the bed, “Fuck. This sucks.” His cock was still hard and nothing was cutting it recently. The twenty year old’s mind was settled on his computer science partner. Who was obscenely beautiful and sexy and smelled good and so so so smart.

Oh. He was jacking off again. Maybe this was what the missing piece was. Criston closed his eyes and began to pump his cock some more, imagining her perky tits bouncing as he fucked her over a desk. He gasped sharply, prick twitching excitedly at something tangible.

He thought about the cute way she’d laugh at his dumb jokes. Or when he’d fix something in a faulty program and she’d purr, “Oh! Smart boyyyy.” He whined through his nose, squirming in place, imagining her breathing that in his ear. Criston cried out sharply, cumming so damn hard spunk reached his collarbones.

He laid there breathless, a dopey smile across his face. She was so perfect. He laid in his post-nut bliss and pondered his partners actions. For a girl older and way cooler than him, she sure did enjoy talking to him, even had his number, and they met outside of class to work on their project.

Could there be? No, no. Totally not.

The nerd thought about the times she blushed or would bat his shoulder. Or the time they nearly kissed putting together a PC. She’d merely laughed and said, “Just have to ask me!” He had a meltdown and awkwardly laughed it off. Criston did the same when she was wearing a low-cut top and she breathed, “I wore this for you today, I know you wanna look Cole.”

He sat upright with a bolt.

“Wait what?” he shouted.

“Shut the fuck up loser!,” came the reply of his apartment roommate. Criston rolled his eyes and blinked a couple more times. He still had cum drying on his shoulders from jacking off about the girl of his pathetic dreams and she might be into him? He needed a long shower and help from Ali— stat.

She came through quite quickly after he sent the SOS message. First Ali wrinkled her nose at his room and complained, “Ugh, I’m glad I brought my candles. It smells like man in here. God.” He gave her puppy eyes until the redhead exclaimed, “What?”

“You gotta help me!,” he pled, “I uh- someone likes me back?”

It was a flurry of cinnamon scented womanly magic after his admission. Bless Alicat.

The auburn haired girl swished through Criston’s wardrobe. She raised a brow at him and asked, “Is there anything in here that doesn’t have a logo or some strange wording on it? I can’t believe you just realized she was into you, I could smack you!”

He sat on the bed, freshly showered and in his briefs. Alicent and him had known each other since childhood— this was nothing new. Ali helped him type out a witty way to ask her out tonight without being too dorky. Criston eked, “I think I have some button downs my dad gave me, but they’re probably shoved somewhere.”

“Aha! Found them, still pressed too. I think this darker tan will look good,” she said while stepping out of the closet. Honors college had nice digs. It did pay to be a nerd. Criston eyed the polo shirt, leagues away from his usual t-shirts and jackets.

Alicent narrowed her eyes. He hopped up and sighed, “Fine, fine, I’m putting it on. Just lemme get the undershirt.”

Now he was clad in a nice top, some not worn-to-death jeans, and his rarely used church loafers. He was a pretty shitty Catholic. Alicent styled his wild curls, giggling, “Look at you go, who would’ve thought, you two are going to be some lookers!”

Criston rolled his eyes and mumbled, “Yeah, hoping she doesn’t mind the big neon-lit ‘virgin’ sign over my head.”

Ali snickered, “Or the nasty cartoons you jerk it too, might wanna get rid of that evidence if you’re planning on getting that far, yeah stud?”

He blanched, stuttering up a storm as she laughed. Criston grabbed all and any evidence of his…prior predilections..and hid them under the bed. In a big lockbox. Then completely wiped his browser history and any suspicious downloads. Fire walled it or whatever.

He sighed again, getting jittery, reading a text from the cutie.

‘Hey handsome, still see you in 30 on the plaza? I’m excited for the pizza and games! 💋’

Criston immediately squawked, “Ali!”

She ‘tsked’ and looked at the text. Then looked back at him with a funny look. Alicent deadpanned, “You’re such an idiot for being smart. I wish half the girls I texted were this forward. Just tell her yes, you can’t wait, you know she’s gonna look gorgeous and throw some emoji in!”

“So you are a lesbian?”

“And you’re not telling a soul!”

They pinky promised, Ali giving him a warm hug and pat on the cheek. She teased, “Luv yaaaa Nerd, don’t forget to wrap it!” He blushed and waved her off. Criston rubbed the back of his neck, glad he had such a good friend. He quickly typed back.

‘Hi- yeah I’ll see you there. I know you’ll be gorgeous, can’t wait xx’

The date had gone great. They didn’t ID either. So beers, pizza, and dumb arcade games they played. Criston probably had her up-down look at him sketched into his mind. She was in a cutesy dress herself, cut mid-thigh and a heart shaped window in the front to show her…assets. Not to forget some Doc’s he would gladly be stomped by.

“Criston, oh my god, you look so cute, who dressed you up,” she pulled him into a tight hug, whispering, “Should I be jealous?”

He sheepishly smiled, “No, just my childhood friend, she’s kinda, we’re not, you know.”

His class partner giggled, patting his chest, “No need, I gotcha. We all need those friends. C’mon let’s go!”

He couldn’t help but goofily smile down at her as they held hands walking to the pizza joint. Sometimes Criston would get so lost in his head and self-conscious, it would seem like he was always underfoot. But tonight, with her, he felt his right size. She grabbed their interlaced hands and pecked his skin, giggling.

Christ have mercy, lord have mercy. He was so down bad.

But as he said, the night went awesome. Conversation never lulled, he taught her the secret to ski-ball, and she schooled Criston in pac-man. He got his first kiss on the walk back, paused at the stoplight, waiting to walk. She pulled back and murmured, “You’ve been the best date.”

Criston, likely all moony eyes now, gushed back, “God, same, really, you’re great you know that? I’m just a bit clueless.”

She shrugged, “That’s okay. We don’t have to know everything.”

They walked near the honor’s college. They both chirped at the same time, “You uh-“ then burst into laughter. Criston grinned and ran a hand through his inky hair. He shuffled his balance and gestured, “Do you want to come back to my room? It’s all clean and female verified.”

“Lead the way handsome.”

Criston was glad for the bit of liquid courage still in his system, kissing and hugging on his ‘friend girl’? She was so sweet and touchy, it was driving him mad. He idly wondered if she was all sweet and adorable like that in bed. Thankfully his dick was tucked away.

The brunette keyed into his room, her arms around his waist, face smushed into his back. The junior cooed, “You smell good, you’re the cutest thing I swear, can’t believe this.” Criston eyed her nervously as he stepped in, replying, “You’re a catch, I can’t believe anyone wouldn’t go for you.”

She straightened up, looking into his dark eyes as she admitted, “No, it wasn’t that I was lacking…just searched for the wrong attention I suppose. You’re actually respectful.”

Criston smiled at that, snorting, “Catholic boy values I guess.”

“Or you are a good boy like I said,” she teased, thumbing Criston’s now-flaming cheeks.

“Can I kiss you again?” he eagerly asked.

They locked lips again, her arms around his neck, Criston tilting his face so his damn nose wouldn’t get in the way. His hands were politely shaking at her waist as they made out. Her tongue softly lapped into his mouth, the man gasping and returning the favor.

She moved his shaky hands down to her ass with a snicker. Criston groaned between kisses as he groped her pert ass— fuck, this was heaven! Cole walked her backwards towards the bed, pushing her back onto the freshly made covers. She smiled up at him, lips plump, the led lights from his room casting a neat glow.

“Come on then, can you get the shoes?,” she teased while shucking off her tight black dress. Criston eagerly dropped to the ground, whimpering as his hard cock painfully brushed against the fly of his pants. He quickly undid the thick boots and neatly placed them to the side.

Coming back up, he got an eyeful of pretty fucking titties and manicured hands on his waist. She purred, “Heard you down there, all good babes?” Criston nodded with a swallow and pathetic noise. She cooed while undoing his belt and pants, reminding him of the button down.

Now Criston’s lean body was on display with her own, only underwear between the two. That was perfectly dandy for him as he clambered over her perfect form, now playfully making out on their sides. Every single time his cock would graze the random throw pillow between them he’d whimper into her wet mouth, growing flustered. The front of his briefs were getting sticky.

He tried to not to rut against it, but he had a handful of fucking tit and her soft lips and noises, and Criston was only a weak little bitch! She pulled back to laugh, “You know, I’d much prefer you fuck me making those cute noises. But that’s up to you baby.”

He blinked owlishly, hand moving up her thigh to ask. “You don’t want me to uh- touch you first?”

“Sweetheart, I’m wet enough as is and we can worry about alllll that other stuff later hm?”

Criston made a gutted noise, nodding. She was right, he’d blow all over himself if he got to feel around her pussy for a bit. He rasped, “Yeah, okay, good- lemme get the condom.” He reached over her smaller frame, digging around the side table for the damn condom, trying to put his bravest face on.

Criston made a little ‘aha’ as he snagged the packet, settling onto his haunches and ripping the packet with his teeth. Meanwhile she undid her bra and shucked down wet panties, the slickness hitting his lean thigh. “Hng-fucking shit!,” the brunette accidentally moaned.

“Yeah babes? That’s all for you, here, lemme help.”

She grabbed the tacky lubed condom, rolling it on Criston, her teeth biting into a plump lip. He shuddered through the movement, taught tummy tensing and rolling as he tried to calm down. “There we go, you’re alright, just breathe sweeatheart,” the girl cooed.

Criston nodded haphazardly, easing himself onto his elbows, staring wide-eyed into her own. He wanted to blab about being a virgin, how he was scared of fucking up, how damn pretty and sweet the brunette thought she was. The beauty pecked his lips and cooed, “I know, take it easy, s’fine Criston.”

He jerkily nodded again, lashes fluttering against the faint neon lighting. Criston grabbed his cock and began to ease it into her, gasping wetly. His computer partner took over from there, wrapping soft legs around his waist, murmuring sweet nothings.

Soon he was seated inside her tight, warm, velvet pussy. Criston buried his face between her tits, sniveling and gasping as he tried to fight off every single nerve in his body screaming to let go. He tried to speak, more of a plethora of strangled whines and whimpers escaping his raw throat.

“Shhh, don’t think so much, s’okay Cris, you’re okay,” she hummed while petting soft hands down his heaving flanks and sides. Plush lips planted a kiss on his suddenly wet cheeks. God he was a mess. A whiny, flimsy, wet mess. The way she was squeezing around him made the rational part of his brain realize she enjoyed the pitiful sex still.

“Hn-okay? I- uhohgod- okay?”

She smiled and kissed him, the heels of her feet ushering Criston on. He began to pump slowly, liking the way her soft moan made his chest puff in excitement. The brunette began to build a decent rhythm, panting and moaning between sloppy kisses. He got lost in the feeling, truly.

Soon the cutie was gasping and begging, “Don’t cum yet, j-just, Criston, touch my clit, it’s the nub at the top, yes!, right there!” He listened carefully, thumbing at her swollen nub, panting like a racehorse between suckling at budded nipples. He’d ended up at a breakneck pace, completely over any pretense he was going to make a manly noise tonight.

Criston fought off his orgasm, although it was on top on him now. He moved his lips to hers again, swirling his thumb, thrusting his slim hips into perfect goddamn pussy. He gasped, “Oh, oh, oh God, m’gonna cum baby, m’gonna cummmmm!” The boy would definitely never admit he somewhat squealed.

His cutie whined excitedly under the loud sounds of the bed creaking, lean hips clapping into her softer flesh. She begged, “Right there sweetheart, mm, good boy, good boy! Right there with you!” She clung to his shoulders and tightened down, chanting Criston’s name like a litany.

Criston Cole was pretty sure he saw God when his balls drew up and he slammed back into her welcoming pussy. Sure, there was a condom, but the sophomore’s ears still rung with the choir of angels and he probably sounded like a slip of a thing getting her cunt pounded but it was worth it. So very worth it.

He kept playing with her clit until she milked him, again, crying out happily, throwing her pretty hair back and groaning throatily. “Ohhhhh, f-fuck, oh my god, mmm!,” he eloquently replied to her, feeling another little peak pass through his overstimulated system. He collapsed against her soft frame, panting softly, whimpering every other breath.

Oh god he was crying, this was not the time to be— oh she kissed it away.

“That’s alright baby, you did great, Mhm,” she hummed and nuzzled against his face.

Huh. Maybe he was in love now. Fuck hentai.

[m1d-45]

if you don't mind i'd love to see what'd you think it'd be like being found by razor first in sagau!!! he's my main and like a son to me <3. also i am handing you little cat shaped cookies, ur writing is always a treat when its on my dash!!!!!!

lightning sigil

a/n: in return to your delightful gift, i bring you this small love letter to the first character i ever pulled. i’m glad to know that i have brightened people’s day, and hope to reflect this kindness back to you <3

word count: 1111!!!

-> warnings: spoilers for razor lore / story quest? i suppose?

-> lowercase intended

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie

< masterlist >

you land in wolvendom, lamp grass cradling your fallen form. a soft blue glow lights up the dark forest, and despite the stars shining through the leaves, you can see a fair distance around you. the plants and ferns curl around and hold your curious hand, brushing carefully into your palm. it’s…. unnatural, for certain, but it isn’t unnerving in the way you’d expect.

you spend a little longer than you’d like to admit in a trance of sorts, watching the wind blow flowers against your wrist and leaves flutter between your fingers. it’s strange, but certainly a welcome distraction from waking up in a strange environment.

speaking of…

you inspect the lamp grass around you, ignoring the odd way they preen into your touch. are they really lamp grass? or is this some weird dream? it has to be, right? the wind doesn’t just… do that, it doesn’t curl bushes into your hair and brush away errant strands with the care of an actual hand. it doesn’t in your world.

the brush rattles with the breeze, but you don’t pay much attention, chalking it up to the same strange wind as the one affecting the flora around you, continuing to inspect the small plant in your hand. the small bulb seems to glow brighter just by being next to your skin, and your brain calls up some explanation of bioluminescence from some science class or odd youtube video.

sticks creak and leaves rustle, sounding like somebody’s approaching. you turn in the direction of the sound, scooting back until your back hits a tree. you were too distracted to notice earlier, but as you stare into the dark space between the tree trunks, you realize how unsettlingly dark it is. you can’t see anything.

your breath picks up, your fingers threading into the grass. it weaves back into your hand, cool with nighttime, and you falter momentarily on the fact that wind couldn’t possibly be affecting it this way.

the bushes part.

red eyes stare at you from the pitch black, something shimmering in the darkness besides them. you can’t look away, even as your spine prickles with nerves and unease, transfixed by something that seems so familiar and yet should have you running.

the eyes tilt. the bushes part further.

white hair comes into view first, then a dark hood and large white pendants. dark army-green pants fold and bend over a crouched form, buckles and tassels clicking over the bushes, somehow not catching.

you clutch at the grass. it holds you back.

“you…”

you can’t move as the boy—you tell yourself you don’t know his name, you tell yourself it’s not the same guy—approaches, kneeling in front of you. his hands are gloves, the leather shockingly warm where it reaches for your hand.

“you’re here.”

the shock and emotion in his voice surprises you, alongside the implicit recognition in his words. he knew you? he…

you tell yourself again that this can’t be the razor you know. this can’t be the one you’ve poured time and energy into, this isn’t the same boy as from your game, he’s not the one you cooed and called after. he’s not the one you cried over when he got hurt, he’s not the one you spent hours and hours grinding for and perfecting and leveling and loving-

not-razor tugs at your wrist. “stand. you should not be with the grass.”

you ignore the chord in your heart that burns at his voice and let him pull you up, at a loss for words. you want to say something, it feels awkward not breaking the silence, but you dont know what to say. what can you? is this version of razor aware of what you did for him? what kind of dream are you even having right now?

he steadies you with another hand on your arm, frowning. you didn’t even realize you were swaying.

“you okay?”

you nod. he doesn’t seem convinced.

“come. follow.”

he pulls you along, one of his hands falling away to push aside branches in your path. moonlight streams in bars from the sky, fireflies flickering along the path. you cling to razor’s hand, walking a little closer to him. the night is cold, and though the wind creeping through the trees was comforting before, it’s only off-putting now.

he makes an odd half-huff, holding your hand tighter. the noise doesn’t sound irritated, somehow, even as you’re certain it would from anybody else.

he leads you to a small ledge, coming up to your waist, and clambers up with ease. before you can struggle over the rock, he reaches his hands over the edge.

“here. i help you.”

the simple dialogue makes you smile.

he pulls you up and over the edge easily, standing and smoothly pulling you up alongside him. the action is quick, one that leaves you a bit disoriented, but you quickly get your bearings again. after checking you over, he gives a self-satisfied smile and continues walking.

“oh- ah, where are we going?”

your words come out strange and off-kilter in your continued confusion, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“place to sit. wait.”

“for?”

“wolf pack!”

he says it with such pride, you can see the affection in his eyes even from your angle at his side. they really are his family..

you come into a clearing with a large rock in the center, the moon falling through a gap onto a large portion of it. razor leads you near the center of the moonlit portion, sitting down.

“once wolves return, we will bring you somewhere better. less cold.”

you stare, watching as he fusses with his cloak. why would they take you in? surely they didn’t…

after a moment, razor managed to remove his jacket, leaning in to wrap it around your shoulders. it’s small, unsurprisingly, but warm in a way you don’t expect.

“you know me?”

razor smiles as he sits back, an awkward imitation yet endearing all the same. when he speaks, you catch a glimpse of fangs.

“you’re my lupical.”

[kpforpresident]

How are plant shop clexa enjoying summer?

"Ungf Lexa. Fuck. Please don't stop."

"I got you, baby."

"That feels so good-"

"What in the name of margaritas are you two little weirdos up to? Sounds like you're staging a porno in your living room."

Two surprised gazes, one blue, one green, turned from where they had been lovingly beaming at each other to meet Raven's inquisitive brown eyes in their doorway, spare key in hand with her eyebrows almost disappearing into her hairline.

"Rae, that key is for emergencies only!" An indignant, pink cheeked Clarke managed to squeak out from her face down position on the couch, wiggling slightly to adjust a lump in the terrycloth towel that covered the surface.

"This was an emergency!" Raven spluttered as she inched cautiously into the room, still unsure what her best friend and their partner were up to as Lexa wielded a clear bottle of goo while straddling a topless Clarke. "You weren't answering your phone, and you know I have to be there no later than 5:03 to get the best onion rings at that one happy hour. You promised."

Clarke blew forcefully upwards on an errant piece of hair that was stuck to her cheek, craning her neck best she could to make eye contact with Raven despite her position.

"I'm sorry, Rae- we were at the beach this morning and someone decided that cosmo's newest story of the 'science' behind a base tan was more important than their girlfriend's helpful suggestions to wear sunscreen- Clarke toasted herself today and I'm just easing her pain. Her phone is in the bedroom and we've been coating her in this shit for the past 45 minutes, neither of us heard the phone ring."

Lexa rolled her eyes slightly as she poured another heaping palmful of lube? hair gel? into her hands, warming it between her palms before reaching down to place her fingers gently on Clarke's back.

Raven walked further into the room to peer over the back of the couch, mouth dropping in abject horror when the usually porcelain expanse of Clarke's back came into view.

"Damn, C, it looks like you've been spit roasted over a barbeque."

"Thanks, Rae, I appreciate it. We're not all blessed with melanin and the ability to tan to a beautiful share of caramel, ok?" Clarke muttered darkly as she sat up slowly onto her knees, bringing the towel up to cover her front as Lexa scowled lightly, smoothing the last bits of aloe onto Clarke's angrily pink shoulders.

Raven hooted in disbelief as she surveyed the total expanse of Clarke's lobster red back, the clearly defined bikini link starkly white just under her shoulderblades.

"Nah, gringa, you're gonna peel. You're lucky Lexa loves you, since you'll be shedding like a snake the next few weeks." Raven shook her head while walking into Clarke and Lexa's shared room, rifling through their closet before walking out with a loose camisole in hand, nipple covers in the other.

"C'mon, dry your little aloe tears and let's go, this girl needs a frozen marg and I know you want those fried pickle chips things. The alcohol will dull the pain, I promise."

[theworkshopmann]

The Science of Combustion

One crossed wire, one wayward pinch of potassium chloride, one errant TWITCH, and KA-BLOOIE!

Type: Cosmetic/Misc

Class: Demoman

Paintable: Yes

Accepted in game: No

This cosmetic set was made by Steam users MCL15 and Tabby. Posted on September 7th 2022, you can vote for this here!

[niobiumao3]

Phee takes a bounty from the Empire, which normally she would never do, but times are tough and it’s good pay for a seemingly simple task: locate and retrieve an errant Imperial alchemist. It sounds like the perfect quick score. They’ll swing by his little hermitage, grab him and toss him in the hold, drop him off on their way south for the end of the season. It’s not even anyone dangerous, just one (1) truant bottle-pusher. How much trouble could it really be?

So much trouble. So, so much.

Age of Sail / Alchemy / Bio-steam-punk Fusion AU

~*~

One day I was chatting with @nightskyfoxyy and she showed me a sketch of Phee as a proper pirate. And I was like oh yes I like the idea of, you know, age of sail shenanigans except there should be steampunk and some alchemy. Also some biopunk. Then I chatted with @ahsokatechie about additional particulars. And well, this all happened. I have no excuse except I like writing weird fusions.

This is variant from the canon TBB storyline in that Crosshair leaves Kamino with the Batch, but the major beats of S1 and a few aspects of S2 remain. There’s various cameos from other TBB and TCW characters but this is mostly Tech, Phee, and the Batch.

The science in this isn’t intended to be any more realistic than SW itself, so as much as I tried to add some in where I could, realistically I am definitely going for vibes, not accuracy.

[striderl]

Ya know, Strider, I'm a little curious now. Did the Film Industry assist in or make any one of the improvements for Titan Cameraman/Titan TV Man? Because they're really good in the weaponry department right, so maybe they had a hand in their weaponry?

The Film Industry is responsible for the weaponry of Titan Cameraman and the Titan Speakerman, while Titan TV man’s improvements are taken care of by the TV faction only.

To specify their position and responsibility, they are in charge of the designing and upgrading the weapons and defense mechanisms, providing weapon blueprints and models for the main science team that work on the titans. And that’s only a part of their job as they also manage the weapon blueprints for the entire alliance.

You may ask why Gaffer is present in the team if they are not responsible for the TV Titan, it is because Gaffer is a diplomat from the TV faction to explain TV technologies to other factions, as well as designing defense systems against the Skibidi’s reverse engineering.

It’s a strenuous task for such a small team to keep up with the constant damage made on the two Titans, even when they have assistance from the main science team. So whenever the titans are taking physical damage, the weapon division is taking psychological and spiritual damage.

After episode 65, the reaction of the Film Industry when they viewed the POV broadcast:

Polaroid hasn't worked on anything that are titan-related, so he doesn't know the amount of effort the team put in. Now he is more of an errant boy that's responsible in delivering and organizing the blueprints.

[sarahshoots1st]

RWBY Characters as Tarot Cards

01. The Magician - Weiss

The Magician is a figure associated with creativity and limitless possibilities. Traditionally depicted with a wand raised towards the sky, the Magician forms a bridge between the heavens and the earth, connecting the supernatural to the natural. Channeling the raw elements of creation itself, this figure is capable of radical self-determinism and limitless possibilities. And what better RWBY character to represent this archetype than Weiss, errant Schnee heiress and God’s favorite princess.

Weiss’ primary character arc involves forging a destiny for herself outside the oppressive clutches of her father, Jacque Schnee. Rejecting the comfortable life of a noble socialite, she sets out to become a Huntress, directly defying her father’s wishes. Though its status in the canon is questionable, the first episode of RWBY: Ice Queendom implies that Weiss’ iconic battle with the Arma Gigas in the White Trailer was specifically meant to decide whether or not she would even be allowed to attend Beacon Academy. Even before receiving formal combat training, Weiss had to literally fight for the life she wanted.

But of course, Weiss is no ordinary fighter. Her signature fighting style revolves heavily around the use of Dust, a resource she has plenty of access to as a member of the Schnee family. Viewed through the lens of RPG terminology, Weiss fills the role of a caster in team RWBY, capable of unleashing offensive elemental attacks or supporting her allies through the use of her Glyphs.

The theme of Dust is important for Weiss' character, for it relates directly to her status as heiress to the SDC. Though she ultimately turns her back on that position, it is clear that her ties to the Schnee family have not been completely severed. Rather than completely distancing herself like her older sister Winter, Weiss is determined to salvage what she can of her family's legacy. She frequently expresses dismay and outrage at Jacques' business practices and political maneuvering throughout the Atlas arc, and her monologue to the Herbalist in V9 E4 makes it clear that she intends to redefine her family's name rather than simply abandoning it. In this, Dust serves as both the means and the ends of her personal journey: it fuels her path away from her family's history by allowing her to serve as a Huntress, but it also connects her to that same history.

Much as Dust connects Weiss to her family's legacy, it also connects her with the archetype of the Magician. Though the show goes to great lengths to emphasize the difference between Dust and the “true” magic of prehistoric Remnant, the practical effects are the same - they both provide the user with the ability to create supernatural effects by channeling the raw elemental forces of creation. Likewise, historical “magicians” of our world were not so much wielders of magic as those who dabbled in forces most could not understand. Before our modern understanding of science and nature, herbalists, chemists, and astronomers were all viewed with an air of mistrust by many clergy and commoners who saw their practices as tampering with the mystical arcane. To practice these arts was to face ostracism from greater society - just as Weiss faced ostracism from her family for becoming a Huntress.

Over the course of the show, Weiss has already undergone great personal change. Once cold and distant, she has grown comfortable expressing herself around whom she trusts. Team RWBY has in many ways become the family she never had as a child, a place where her icy facade can melt in the warmth of acceptance. She still bears the marks of a noble upbringing, displaying a grace and elegance that many of her more rambunctious allies lack. But her refined bearing has become an expression of personal identity, rather than a barrier meant to keep others away. Her snarky comments and snobbish standards have become endearing to both her fans and her comrades - oftentimes becoming a point of comedic relief as the normally unflappable Weiss attempts to make sense of the comically absurd situations team RWBY finds themselves in.

Even though Weiss has already undergone radical change over the course of the show, in many ways her journey is only beginning. Every day of her life is a chance to redefine her family’s legacy and undo the harm her father did. It is worth noting that Weiss never gives specifics on what she intends to do with her new-found freedom. She will be a Huntress, yes - but that has always been a role that could take many forms, even before the world-order began to crumble under Salem's assault. Will she focus her efforts on defending the innocent from the Grimm? Reforming Atlas' political structure? Enacting reparations towards the Faunus for the injustices committed against them? All of the above? The question is left open-ended. Ultimately, the important thing is that Weiss has reached the point where she gets to be defined by her own actions, rather than those of her family. Each day brings with it limitless possibility to reshape herself and her identity as a Schnee. That is Weiss’ ultimate triumph - the triumph of the Magician.

For the card art, the emphasis would be on Myrtenaster, both as a symbol of her own personal identity and as a classical representation of the Magician's power. Though shaped like a dueling rapier, the weapon is designed to be a wand first and a blade second. The weapon’s hilt contains a revolving chamber of Dust cartridges, and Weiss uses these to empower her Semblance - much like the quintessential depiction of the Magician channeling the power of the Four Elements. Weiss would be holding the blade high, tip pointed to the sky, as she is ready to summon her Glyphs and reshape her own destiny.

Previous Next

[johnbierce]

Magic school book sale

Into the Labyrinth, the first novel in my YA magic school series, Mage Errant, is a Kindle Daily Deal today! (November 15th.) Books 2&3 will be on sale as well for the next couple of days. Mage Errant follows the adventures of Hugh of Emblin, a young student mage whose magic doesn't want to work right- though his anxiety works just fine. Mage Errant features found family, a convoluted science-inspired magic system, a non-neurotypical protagonist, a queernormative setting, Machiavellian politics, lots of explosions, and more kaiju than you can shake a stick at. (Though, uh... I highly recommend against shaking sticks at kaiju in general.)

Mage Errant is heavily inspired by Diane Duane, Dianna Wynne Jones, Will Wight's Cradle, Andrew Rowe's Arcane Ascension, and a bunch of cheesy shonen anime. It's part of the new(ish) genre of progression fantasy, which is much more heavily focused on training and growing in power than average in fantasy. (I like to call the genre "books for people who like movie training montages way too much.")

The whole series is complete now, sans a short story anthology coming out in February. It's also getting a webtoon comic adaptation, which is super exciting! Oh, and whenever I got a bad review for having queer characters (of which I got MANY), I hit a mental button reading "make it gayer."

[macgyvermedical]

Abduction + Memory + Time + Fireworks + Dispersal thank goodness they didn't do seven seasons of this naming convention...

Okay folks, even though this aired quite a while ago I just now watched it, so I'm just now writing about it.

Awl - X-Ray + Penny - Duct Tape + Jack - CD + Hoagie Foil - Guts + Fuel + Hope - Wilderness + Training + Survival - Father + Bride + Betrayal - Lidar + Rogues + Duty - Nightmares - Seeds + Permafrost + Feather - Friends + Enemies + Border - Mason + Cable + Choices - Bitter Harvest - Kid + Plane + Cable + Truck - Tesla + Bell + Edison + Mac - Golden Lancehead + Venom + Pole Vault + Blood + Baggage

In conclusion to the nanotracker story arc, Mac and Riley go missing for over 24 hours. When they reappear, not only have they no memory of the previous day, but video footage shows them obeying dozens of commands, including one to fight each other and one to fire a weapon at a mannequin (though based on a line Mac says later, this horrifyingly might not have been the original version of this scene).

Vowing not to allow their bodies to be used against their will again, Mac and Riley decide to undergo a potentially dangerous treatment- exposing the nanites to high concentrations of oxygen in a hyperbaric chamber.

Just because mind control nanites are still pretty science fiction, this post will mostly be about hyperbaric medicine.

Hyperbaric Chambers:

Hyperbaric oxygen treatment is a type of treatment that uses high pressure and high oxygen concentrations to treat a variety of illnesses and injuries. These include things like non-healing wounds, crush injuries, carbon monoxide poisoning, cyanide poisoning, severe infections, and delayed radiation injuries.

A patient is placed into a chamber like the one above (though there are also larger chambers that can accommodate multiple people). Oxygen or medical air is then forced into the chamber, increasing the pressure to the prescribed depth. Depths vary depending on patient needs and the capabilities of the chamber, but can be anywhere from 1.4 atmospheres to over 6 atmospheres.

The high pressure and high oxygen concentration in the hyperbaric chamber allows oxygen to dissolve directly into the blood plasma. This helps higher concentrations of oxygen get to parts of the body that may not have the best circulation (non-healing wounds, crush injuries), give a boost of oxygen to parts of the body that need it (severe infections, delayed radiation injuries), or provide oxygen when the hemoglobin can't carry it (carbon monoxide poisoning, cyanide poisoning). The high pressure helps reduce the size of errant bubbles in the blood stream as well, which can treat the symptoms of air embolism and decompression sickness. The pressure is then gradually reduced to allow the bubbles to dissolve without severe pain.

Oxygen Toxicity:

In the episode, Mac and Riley require very high concentrations of oxygen in their blood in order to poison the nanites. Like any medical treatment, there are risks to hyperbaric oxygen therapy. Most of them have to do with air pockets in the body. These include barotrauma cause by bubbles under tooth fillings, in the sinus cavities, and the air in the inner ear which can expand and contract, causing pain. They can also include oxygen toxicity, which can be lung-related (burning pain, cough, difficulty breathing), or nervous system related (seizures).

In the episode, Mac suffers the latter type of complication when he has a seizure at 3.5 atmospheres. Seizures are a very rare complication (about 0.7 out of 10,000 treatments will result in a seizure), but oxygen toxicity does lower the seizure threshold. This means that for someone with a pre-existing seizure disorder or another reason they might have a seizure (low blood sugar, certain drugs, fever in children, etc...) they are more likely to have a seizure during a treatment.

Mac also was more likely to have oxygen toxicity than the typical person undergoing hyperbaric oxygen therapy. See, when a person is "at depth" in a chamber, they have a mask they can wear to give them room air (about 21% oxygen) at periodic intervals in order to prevent oxygen toxicity. Since the goal was to give Mac oxygen toxicity to kill the nanites, they likely forewent this precaution, which might have made it a lot more likely he would have had pulmonary complications or seizures.

The Bends:

Because he was in the chamber when he had the seizure, they decompress him and get him out of the chamber. It seems to take only seconds, even though they do hang a lantern on it by saying something to the effect of "we can't decompress him too quickly or he'll get the bends and then we'll never get him back!" (I'd quote it exactly but they took the episode off of Paramount+).

In reality, it would have taken at least an hour to adequately decompress him. If they needed to get him out as fast as they did, they'd need to re-compress him or he really would get the bends (though the bends is usually delayed by 15 minutes to 12 hours, so they'd have some time to get him back to depth). Here is a recommended re-compression table (18 MSW is the same as 1.8 atmospheres):

Has someone written that fic? Cause I need the fic where they have to break it to Mac that he has to go back into the chamber.

Anyway, this was a short one, but I hope you all learned something!