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lights-at-night · 2 months

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saint electric fic :0????? DO tell

ehehehhehehe i only started planning it today so it's pretty first draft-y and things are probably going to change in future but yeah

setting: basically the silt verses version of vaguely victorian era industrial revolution. the cities of glottage and nesh are filling with opportunists and churches - people are now considering the use of gods and some are doing their best to make money off it. there are a lot of unethical sacrifices happening, since no labor laws have been set in place.

entire plot (spoilers for the nonexistent fic i guess): the woman who will become the saint electric is a leading figure in the developing field of what i'm calling practical theology and she's developing a new god - a god of electricity. of course, she makes it, but at the cost of the sacrifice of her assistants, gertruderobinsonstyle. her patron is eager to monetize this, and creates the church electric. she's pressured to do a demonstration of electrical lighting in glottage, and although initially hesitant about the people necessary to power such a display she's convinced into it. the display is interrupted by her friend in an attempt to prevent the sacrifices from being taken, but her friend fails and glottage lights up. because of this, her fame skyrockets and causes many people to join the church electric, and as the face of the church they begin to call her a saint (this is my reasoning for why she's called the saint electric - gods are new to the land and terminology for saints and angels isn't well established yet). her patron begins negotiations with the governments of the cls and the peninsula to build the electrical grid in their land (i need to do more research about the history of the electrical grid but this'll do for now). unfortunately for them, the parish of tide and flesh (this is pre-devlin times, they're legal at this moment) is Pissed about all of this because they invented hydraulic power before she did electricity and yet the peninsulan government is favoring her? when her company consorts with the linger straits? when the parish is an older and more established faith? and now the church electric wants to build on their land? how dare. the parish joins forces with ethical sacrifice activists, headed by theodora's friend who tried to stop the first demonstration to protest against the church electric, and her patron has to deal with this too, so they go and tell theodora (thats what i called pre-god saint electric) that it would be really helpful if she could reveal some cool electricity things to distract from the unrest. luckily, while all this has been happening, theodora has been working on a prototype of radio. unluckily, she's been avoiding using sacrifice for experimentation out of guilt from the last demonstration and has been testing this shit on herself, which. isn't good. so her patron spins the tale that she's been merging with the god itself, and therefore it is more urgent that the governments fund and build these pylons and connect all their homes! and NOt try to sabotage the electricity lines of the other side! her patron goes and gets replacement assistants/sacrifices so she stays alive for longer and doesnt go and ascend off this mortal plane. they bond and are friends! and this connection and their collective sacrifice is used to make a telegraph. at this point her life SUCKS. all her assistants have become saints to her work, and she tries to think of it as an honor to ease the guilt. her past friend is a leading voice against what theodora literally stands for and the only person who will call her by her name and not the saint electric is her patron, who only cares for her when she's profitable. so she withdraws into her work and stops making public appearances. distress and strikes arise, and the patron kills the person leading the ethical sacrifice movement, which makes them and the parish back down, since the church electric has been breaking those laws since day 1. this death is used to the government to get them to put laws regarding sacrifice in place. the patron and theodora speedrun an irl century-ish so they can do it before the sacrificial laws are put into place. they build a bunch of streetlights, and she does her final display - gas discharge lights, powered by the saint electric herself. she (insert verb of apotheosis) in front of a rapt audience, and so ends/begins the saint electric

misc: the early versions of pylons are made of the bone and blood vessels of the sacrifices, stretched like wires. the idea for making a kind of radio came from an offhand comment one of her assistants made. her patron is a close to a relative of the as-yet unborn adjudicator devlin, and the parish's protests against the church electric was one of the reasons the trawlerman got banned. the slag king & petropater is also there, developing alongside the saint electric, but i don't know/care a lot about concrete or oil so unless any of you are enthusiasts the most there'll be is a passing mention. i named the saint electric theodora arne, bc theodora means god's gift and is appropriately regal and arne means eagle and is also a word for like a fire in the home, which is for the electricity thing. i dont have the names for anyone else lol. the law regarding sacrifice is named after the person who died and also forces the parish to cut down and change their sacrificial practices, which would be another factor leading to their outlawing

yes this is very much an excuse for me to nerd out about lighting and pylons and electricity, no i haven't written this yet

#this is going to be SO oc heavy bc it's a prequel and i dont think there;s that much canon about pre-show events. but i am having fun so #this is almost entirely extrapolating over a few sentences...jon ware im begging u drop more saint electric lore pleaseeeee #sorry i wrote SO much. alas #i came up with a significant portion of this on the fly so um #insert post about me when i try to write down lore vs me when asked about iti #the saint electric #asks #catwyk #nebulous project tag

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booleanean · 1 year

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Day 9 - Aphrodisiacs - Robots with Dicks

"Oh fuck, yes, yes," Carla panted.

She heard Felix scribble something on his clipboard. For an AI postdoc, he was oddly attached to pen and paper.

The Mk1's chassis had been completed weeks ago. Carla had stared at it, stood in the corner of their basement workshop, waiting for Felix to finish training the AI, until finally she couldn't take it anymore.

"Yes, harder, faster." Carla moaned as the robot's control loop interpreted the commands and thrust into her with greater intensity.

Every inch of it was as good as she could make it, artificial filament muscles covered in variably translucent silicone to visually measure performance, hydraulic actuators in the torso visible behind 3D printed transparent aluminium. Strength was about twice what the strongest human could achieve without modification or drugs, dexterity on par with the best industrial robots from ten years ago, but on a fully mobile base. It was the peak of humanoid robotics, right at the very bleeding edge of technology. Their research paper was going to omit certain additions she'd made to it, though she had been half tempted to see if they could win a Nobel and Ig Nobel for the same project.

Felix looked up long enough from his clipboard to stroke her hair.

"Feel good?"

"Oh fuck yes, I'm close."

Even the penis attachments were works of art. Integrated in a special modular pelvis, she'd created two prototypes. The one that was rocking her world right now was a basic steel shaft with an internal set of ducting keeping it at body temperature, and a separate network of microtubules dispensing lubrication along the entire length. Pressure transducers and temperature sensors fed back into the control loop, letting the robot respond to her physiological responses as well as her voice commands.

She was saving the other prototype for the full AI integration test. The basic functionality worked the same as a mammalian penis. Silicone stood in for flesh, with a body safe hydraulic fluid for blood, filling corpora cavernosa made of custom designed aerogel. It even had realistic skin that slid along the basic structure. The sensors were also inspired by biological systems, with increased density in the tip. The piece de resistance was a realistic set of testicles, weighted properly, that contained most of the operating mechanics and a fully functional ejaculation system tuned to mimic anything from a pathetic little dribble to a pressure and volume any porn star would sign away their immortal soul for.

She already had plans for another, more futuristic attachment with a direct magnetic nerve stimulator for the clit and g-spot.

"Fuck YES!" Carla screamed as she came.

The sensors in the robot's dick tripped the control loop into a new regime, keeping the same pace perfectly, matching her thrashing movements, letting her focus on nothing but her own pleasure. The impassive face, silicon lips pressed tightly together, eyes scanning her face mechanically, pulled her out of the moment a little but the perfect fucking it was delivering got her close to the edge again right on the heels of her first orgasm. Just before her pleasure peaked, the robot pulled back out of her completely and sat back on its heels between her legs.

"CONTROL LOOP FAILURE, SAFETY MODE ENGAGED."

She screamed her frustration at the abrupt feeling of emptiness and ruined orgasm so tight on the heels of such a good one.

"Fuck, that sucked." Carla tried to catch her breath. "Mk1, go stand in the corner."

"COMMAND UNCLEAR, PLEASE RESTATE."

She pushed it off the bed with her foot, the basic inverse kinematics keeping it stable as it shifted to the floor. At least that was still working.

"Walk forward four paces, turn forty-five degrees clockwise, walk two more paces, then go into standby mode."

Carla pulled at Felix's shirt, trying to get it off over his head while he tried to hold on to his clipboard.

"Are you going to take notes, or are you going to fuck me? The Mk1 clearly isn't up to the task yet."

He froze, then tossed his clipboard aside. They kissed as he fumbled his pants off. He was inside of her seconds later, rock hard. They'd fantasized together about being with other people, but never wanted to make it a reality. The fantasy was hot, real people was too far for both of them. When they'd been working on the Mk1 together, Carla had suggested a little side project. Felix clearly really got off on seeing her with it, he was rock hard.

"Yes, fuck me, fuck me." Carla rocked her hips against him, meeting him thrust for thrust. She held his gaze, urging him on. Within minutes, he had her back at the edge, years of being together had taught him exactly what she liked. She held herself there, holding back, waiting for him.

"Cum in me, fill me, yes, YES!" Carla felt Felix stiffen inside of her and then warmth flooded her. She let go and screamed his name as she came, "Felix, Felix, Felix!"

When he collapsed on top of her, she stroked his back. He was still inside of her, and she could still feel the occasional twitch of his cock.

"Of course! There was no path from the 'partner orgasm occurring' state into the 'partner orgasm starting' state! God damnit, I forgot to account for multiple orgasms in quick succession. Fuck."

Felix kissed her, muffling her last word. He pushed up on his hands, hovering over her, still inside. "The tensor farm should be done testing the latest model by 8pm. If this one is all green, we can probably have it installed by 10 and give it another shot with the AI this time."

"I'll rewire the state machine for the control loop in case there's any red tests still."

This had been their sex life for the last couple of months, since they started the project to build the ultimate sex bot. After, often with Felix still inside of her, they'd discuss ideas about what they could change, or features they had to have. This was the first time after a field test though.

"Did you like watching me with it?"

"Oh yes. God damn, that was hot."

"Would you ever want to try it? Both cocks are self lubricating, you know."

"Mmm, maybe. I want to see if we can get a threesome mode working first though."

After dinner they guided the bot back onto its stand in the basement workshop with a dozen cables leading to various parts to extract telemetry, recharge, and provide data connections for reprogramming. Carla was getting distracted trying to rewire the state machine, each possible transition suddenly causing both real and imagined sense memories. Felix looked tastier and tastier as she worked. He was futzing with parameters, rerunning partial tests on subsystems. The tests had all been green, but he'd had ideas to get everything optimized before their first live test.

By 2am, they had the first version of Felix's AI uploaded to the Mk1. She and Felix had curated a lot of videos from Pornhub over the last couple of months, finding performances they liked. Lots of hotwife scenes and threesomes, some bisexual stuff, but mostly relatively vanilla scenes. Carla had added some scenes where the male performer was a bit more rough than Felix was comfortable with doing himself, spanking and pinning wrists above heads. For vocal interactions, they'd retrained a large language model on erotica and textual descriptions of the scenes in the porn videos, generated by an off the shelf accessibility AI.

There wasn't any actual universal intelligence in the robot of course. This was a sexy version of an AI chat bot that most phones had built in now, combined with a convoluted control loop for its physical interactions. Simply a very clever way of giving the impression that something was smart, when really all it was doing was basic pattern recognition based on a predefined dataset.

"Want to give it a shot?" Felix asked, but Carla shook her head.

"I want you, not the bot."

Shutting the bot down for the night, Carla drew Felix upstairs back to their bedroom. As they made love, they teased each other with all the amazing things they'd do with the robot tomorrow and in the weeks to come.

The next weekend, Carla really had to admit Felix had been right. Her control loop version of the robot's software was good. It got her off just fine, but it was impersonal. As its designer, she had a hard time focusing on herself as she felt it roll into new control regimes. The AI felt much more human. He looked at you, used his hands for more than balance, and even showed some imperfections in his motions. He got (artificially) winded, slipped out, fell over, all the things a real human partner would do. The experience was so much more realistic, she sometimes forgot it was a robot fucking her if she couldn't see him.

She sat at her desk in their upstairs office now, working on the more serious portion of her research. They had run a series of strength and dexterity tests that afternoon, characterizing the robot's ability to maintain precision while assert force at different levels, and she was processing the data. Felix was downstairs in the lab, tinkering with parameters and adjusting the training data for the next version of the AI.

Carla heard the neighbor plug in his bass guitar, the amp turned way up. She muttered under her breath about people not respecting their tools. Didn't he know he could damage the speaker like that? The noise wasn't too bad, but listening to Seven Nation Army played by a spirited amateur over and over again didn't really appeal either. Her noise cancelling headphones were in the basement with Felix though, so for now she'd just suffer through.

Her phone beeped halfway through the neighbor's warmup.

Felix: Robot reacting to bass music. Carla: "music" Felix: He's getting better. Anyway:

The next message was the robot's dick, the biomorphic one, clearly at half mast.

Carla: Is he on? Felix: in standby Carla: Odd. Sensors recording? Felix: Yup, caught it before the buffer flushed. AI parameter log too. Carla: nice

Before she could really get back into her work, the neighbor finished Seven Nation Army. The next tune he played was the Pornhub sting. She almost spat out her drink. He did a pretty good version, though the lack of drums made it not quite perfect.

Before she could get back into her work, Felix yelled from down in the basement.

"Carla, come take a look at this!"

The Mk1 was standing in its alcove, still docked to all the various wires and cables. Felix was standing in front of it, studying the biomorphic cock. It was throbbing like a real one would.

"Remember how it was at half mast during the first song the neighbor was playing? Despite it being in standby? I think I figured out the reason."

The neighbor, who had just finished House of the Rising Sun, chose that moment to play another couple of Pornhub opening stingers. The Mk1 responded, humping the air slightly, his cock throbbing.

"You didn't cut out the intros on the training data so—"

"— now every time it hears bass music, and the Pornhub riff in particular, it gets aroused. It's still in standby, it's barely drawing current, but there's enough residual charge in the artificial muscle fibers for, well, this." He gestured at the robot's midsection, still rocking back and forth.

"Aren't the tensor cores supposed to be off?" Carla watched a slow drop of lubricant fall from the tip of the twitching robot cock.

Felix shook his head, "Some stay on to parse voice commands."

She reached out, touching the silicone cock. It was slick, the lubricant dispensers clearly activated. It was interesting to see that it was apparently simulating precum as well, despite that not necessarily being the focus of their training data. The artificial dick twitched at her touch, and she grasped it firmly, stroking up and down. A slow trickle of fake cum was leaking out the tip now, covering her hand.

"So we're thinking bass guitar is a robo-aphrodisiac then? Because you trained it on videos with Pornhub intros?"

"Mm-hmm."

"That's hilarious."

"And means I have to remove the intro from over fifteen hundred videos, and then retrain and retest the entire model." Felix sighed heavily. "Again."

"There's an ffmpeg command for that, surely."

"The trimming, sure."

Carla kept stroking the robot's cock, watching the artificial foreskin slide back and forth over the head.

"Seems like a shame to waste this though. It really shouldn't be erect out in the open air for too long, it's designed with the idea of at least some counter pressure. Also, it would be a shame to not gather some extra data. It might be interesting to have a robo-aphrodisiac function, though maybe something more specific that won't just trigger if someone forgets to unplug their Bluetooth speaker when they're going to rub one out."

Felix grinned at her, then nodded.

Carla pulled her sweat pants and top off, standing naked in front of the mechanical man. "Mk1, wake up."

The Mk1 went through his wakeup sequence, part mandated by technology, part for show because they were both massive nerds. The cables, mostly plugged in along his arms and back, ejected and retracted into the alcove like Neo waking up in the real world for the first time. The sound effect of Seven of Nine's alcove powering down at the end of her regeneration cycle played, and Mk1 took a single step forward.

"Hello Carla, nice to see you again. What would you like to do today?"

Felix had campaigned long and hard for the robot to say "Please state the nature of the sexual emergency" but eventually she had put her foot down. The chances of that ending up in a version they showed off at their defense were too high, and while Robert Picardo could get it, the Doctor was a bit too acerbic for her tastes.

She walked over to the mattress they kept in the basement for quick tests, standing at the foot. She was in the mood for something a bit more rough than just the vanilla stuff they'd tried with the bot so far, and this heightened state it was operating in seemed to be a perfect opportunity to try that out.

"Take me. Be a little rough."

Before, he'd always asked for confirmation before initiating anything sexual. It hadn't been hardwired, but the AI training data was heavily incentivized towards asking consent first. This time though, with three long, powerful strides he was inches away from her. The intensity of his movements were a little scary, but she had the utmost faith in her and Felix's work. Still, she took a half step back reflexively.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Felix asked.

Carla stood staring at the Mk1, transfixed by his gaze. She knew it was just servos and cameras and tensor cores running a neural network, there was nothing there, but she still couldn't look away.

"I need this," Carla whispered.

With that, Mk1 took one more step, pushing her over and onto the mattress. He guided her down as they tumbled, cushioning her fall a little and making sure her head didn't hit the ground, but it was still an intense experience.

Decided to fight a little, she tried to push him off. He gathered her wrists in one hand and effortlessly pinned her arms above her head.

"Pause," Carla said.

Immediately, the Mk1 froze. He still held her, but the pressure on her wrists was lower, and he held all his weight off of her.

"Good, that still works just fine. Resume."

The intensity the Mk1 showed was unreal. She'd enjoyed him before, but with this added level of robotic arousal added on top, she could finally completely lose herself in the act. There was no room for thinking about kinematics and control loops, muscle fiber force limits, defects, or additions to the training data. There was no worry about her partner's pleasure, no anxiety for her own performance. All that was there was her own pleasure, pure and uncomplicated.

She fantasized about a future where a Mk2 and Mk3 could join in with the Mk1, taking turns getting her off, letting them recharge and refuel in shifts as they spent an entire day teasing her from orgasm to orgasm.

Mk1's synthesized voice, indistinguishable from human despite being produced by a speaker rather than a voice box, let her know how good this felt for him. All artificial of course, but so necessary for a realistic experience. Soft moans, grunts, little gasps. Even simulated breathing growing shorter as he exerted himself. It had still sounded artificial to her previously, but now it just went straight to the pleasure center of her brain, letting her enjoy the moment even more. She came, crying out as he whispered her name in her ear.

Just as her wrists were beginning to hurt, he shifted, pulling her legs up against his chest. The new position let him reach new and interesting places inside of her, the intentional curve she'd put on his cock letting him hit her g-spot. As she approached her second orgasm of the afternoon, he started moaning louder, grunting. When she came, so did he. The twitching of his cock was entirely lifelike, his orgasm forceful enough she could feel it deep inside of her.

She lay there panting, and he emulated her, letting her bask in the moment. Felix had sat next to her on the mattress, watching her closely. She could see his erection clearly in his sweats.

"That looked intense," he said when she looked over to him.

"Oh yes. We definitely need this feature."

"Would you like to continue?" the Mk1 asked.

Carla flicked her gaze down to Felix's sweats then looked him in the eyes. "Join us?"

Felix grinned and started pulling his shirt off.

#krakentober #kinktober #robot smut #m/f #science fiction #ns/fw #abrupt ending #original smut #original fiction

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weergang · 1 month

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New Nozzle

If you know cars or trucks, you might think this is a big fuel nozzle. It's a nozzle for a 500 kW auxiliary engine.

But this is the nozzle for our 12000 kW main engine, both 4 stroke 6 in line funny enough.

Let's install it on the fuel valve/ nozzle body. We need a nut, a small spanner and a bit of hydraulics to torque it to the required 1600 Nm.

Now we put the internals in it, those allow us to regulate the opening pressure. This injector came out of the engine with a broken spring!

Testing! The opening pressure is set to 600 bar.

[video in a reblog, I hope, it doesn't want to load?? why tumblr?]

All good, let's wrap it up and put it stand by for future use. Oh, and a picture of how dirty the nozzles come out of the engine, (running on Heavy Fuel Oil), yes these nozzle tips are use and throw away parts for us.

#Did i finally post something about what I actually do on this boat?#I guess I did #weergang #merchant navy #yes I need a chain hoist to move it around #its a 300kg piece of steel

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usafphantom2 · 9 months

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On Dec. 9, 2018, my father, Colonel Richard “Butch” Sheffield, former SR-71 Blackbird Reconnaissance Systems Officer (RSO), died. Before he died, he said, “Linda, get my stories out there.” To honor him, I’m going to share one of his many stories. Dad‘s book was very close to getting published, but it is on hold.

This is the story of an SR-71 Blackbird testing mission that went wrong.

On July 29, 1968, I sat at my desk in the 1st. SRS when the phone rang. Someone from PSD said Jim Fagg had just failed his pre-flight physical and could not fly today. Did anyone want to take his place? I told them I would be right over.

I rushed over to PSD, took the pre-flight physical, ate the pre-flight meal, and rushed downstairs and suited up in my pressure suit for the flight. I did not have time to get my checklist, so I took Jim’s checklist and flight data from him. Ben Bowles, Jim’s pilot, and I had known each other for a while, and he was one of the wings' best. They had already taken him to the aircraft and strapped him in so we could make an on-time takeoff.

The mission was one we had been flying to test out the aircraft’s long range. It went from coast to coast and covered just about every state across the country. We made an on-time take-off, refueled, and flew to the East Coast, refueled, and were heading back to the West Coast, accelerating to Mach 3.

We were at Mach 2.88 and 68,000 feet over Oklahoma when the right engine suffered a catastrophic failure. The aircraft became very hard to control, and we could see the right engine burning even though we had shut off its fuel. Ben asked me if I wanted to “get out.” My back was still sore from ejecting the year before. I thought if I eject again, it might break my back, so I said, “No.”

It was a very rough ride down from 68,000 feet. The aircraft was bucking like a bronco. We were running lots of different checklists; (1) engine fire; (2) engine failure, (3) generator failure, (4) hydraulics failure, (5) descent, and (6) others (still classified).

I had declared an emergency with Air Traffic Control on the UHF radio, squawked emergency 7700 on the transponder, and given Ben the heading to Carswell, AFB, Texas (I picked Carswell because it was in front of us, and Ben had landed there before in B-58’s) called Beale on the HF radio to tell them we were landing at Carswell, while we were running all those checklists. I told Ben, “I wish I had my checklist,” because Jim’s checklist was set up for a left-handed person.

I could see the fire & smoke coming out of the engine even after we shut off the fuel. We had fuel tanks in the wing of the SR out to near the engine. If the fire reached that fuel, we would blow up.

As we approached Carswell, smoke was still pouring out of the right engine. I said to Ben that if it were still burning when we stopped on the runway and the fuel pools, it might explode. He agreed. I suggested we fly by the tower and ask them if they could see flames, which we did. They said there were no flames, and we landed. The fire trucks surrounded us once on the runway, and I could see the fire chief making a large circle with his hands and arms—it was the size of the hole in the engine. What we didn’t know at the time was the forty-gallon oil tank in the wing was burning, and shutting off the fuel did not put out the fire. Kelly Johnson, developer and manufacturer of the SR-71, said later that this was the only blackbird that ever flew structurally unsound (the right wing had warped due to the heat. It took three months to fix this SR 71.

If only this airplane could tell the stories, she could tell.~Linda Sheffield Miller

@Habubrats71 via X

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angel-0f-verdun · 7 months

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7 Missile Lock

Authors Note:

Everyone, I appreciate your continued support, I am so sorry it took so long to get this going again. I have moved and life is a bit messy at the moment but I wanted to get this out. For those waiting for Desert Umbra I am working on it, I promise. Right now my heart is set on Top Gun, but I will be putting out another chapter for Desert as soon as I can. I appreciate you all.

AngeDeVerdun

Previous chapter

I started my walk around the plane, making sure to check every inch of my metal beast. Everything seemed to be in order on the outside, I jumped inside and checked all my switches, ensuring they were in the right positions. I turned on the master switch and waited for a second as the indicators started working, plugging the connections of my helmet into the plane. Then turned on my avionics switch, and listened to the fans kick on. When I knew they were in working order I moved on. I proceeded to input the Automatic Terminal Information Service (ATIS) frequency and turned up the volume so I could hear it without putting on my helmet. I adjusted the other volume knob for Doe, using my muscle memory to determine what she liked. I input the sea level pressure into the altimeter and wrote down the letter that this hour’s weather corresponded to and any airport notes I may need. I also input the numbers for the fuel I had until bingo. I didn’t worry about my weapons counters as this was a simulation/training flight, nothing was going to be active. I looked at the switch for my hook bypass and switched it to field instead of carrier. Then turned on all my lights, I first looked around myself at the wings and tail to see if I could see all my lights. I could see a majority of them but decided I needed to get out of the plane and make sure they were all indeed working. I wouldn’t want our team to be patronized because I didn’t check the lights.

As I made my way down the ladder, I could feel the skin on my hand ripping more with the movements I had been putting it through. I sucked in a sharp breath through my teeth as I moved it more to loosen it up before the flight started. I watched the bright lights through my peripheral vision so as not to hurt my eyes when I finished I climbed back inside the cockpit, moved my helmet aside, and set it on my lap. The last thing to do was to flip the lever on the hydraulic transfer pump to shut it off. I tuned into the ground frequency.

“Miramar ground, Reaper, would you connect our ground electric power?” I asked them. I then hooked up my mask to the oxygen tube. I covered my face with my mask and flipped the switch and inhaled, feeling the air hit my lungs. I watched the instruments come to life, closing my eyes and listening to the hum, uncaging my standby instruments. I reached up with my left hand and closed the canopy, I watched Doe give me a thumbs up in the mirror above me as she covered her mouth and nose with her mask.

“Comm check, Doe, can you hear me?” I asked her.

“Loud and clear Reaper” She replied as she continued her own checks, including arming the ejection seats. I cranked my left engine and powered it up watching my RPMs, then let it go to idle and tested the other one.

“Copy,” I told her as I continued my flow checking our lights inside the cockpit, and the fire detection system, which ignited the sounds and warning lights.

“Miramar ground, this is Reaper you can disconnect us.” I told them.

“Disconnecting, you are good to go.” I watched the ground personnel clear out of the way as I bumped our throttles a little and held the brakes.

“Miramar ground this is Reaper with November, at hanger 3 requesting a northwest departure for a training exercise, run up is complete.” I told them.

“Reaper continue to runway two four right via golf and papa, then hold short of runway two four.”

“Taxi to runway two four right via golf and papa and hold short.” I abbreviated their language happily as I revved the engines and taxied to where we needed to go.

“You ready Reaper?” I heard Doe ask me as I made the first left turn. I smiled looking at my surroundings, glancing back in the mirror at her.

“Yeah, I think so. We’ll see how we do and how we compare to the rest of the group. Don’t be nervous, it’s the first flight, they can’t be too tough on us.” I told her, my eyes locked on a plane coming in hot and low to the right near the tower as I turned onto taxiway papa.

“Is that?” I heard Doe ask briefly. I knew exactly who that was, Maverick and Goose. I held short of the runway tuning into the tower's frequency. I rolled my eyes, Maverick was not going to make it easy for me to get out if he did what I thought he was doing, buzzing the tower.

“Yes, our two idiots. They always have to make a scene.” I breathed out annoyed with the showmanship of Maverick.

“I guess this means they did well.” Doe sighed out. I was starting to get annoyed with her lack of confidence, I brushed off the comment and waited til Maverick and Goose had blown my ears out with their inopportune flyby.

“Miramar tower, this is Reaper holding short of runway two four right. Think we can get a departure in before Maverick lands?” I asked them.

“What’s wrong Reaper? Jealous?” I heard Maverick’s voice come through the frequency, I rolled my eyes I would tear him apart the next time I saw him.

“Reaper, no delay, fly straight out runway two four right cleared for take off.” Tower cleared us to go as they also ignored Maverick and his bullshit.

“No delay, fly straight out runway two four cleared for takeoff,” I confirmed, as I taxied out to the runway and gradually put in full power. The plane lurched beneath me, the power throwing me back into the seat. I maintained the center line with my rudder and waited for my speed to climb to what I needed for us to get off the ground. When I reached take-off speed, I pulled up slowly taking us into a climb at a few knots faster and lesser angle of attack. I put my gear up happily getting rid of the drag that accumulated over the wheels. Immediately I felt the plane pull us forward.

“Maverick do a right 360 and set yourself up for a downwind entry landing,” Tower advised him as I tried to tune him out.

“Copy that, right 360 for a downwind entry to land.” He repeated the instructions to the tower.

“Reaper, you’re cleared to turn right to heading three one zero, frequency change approved, tune into practice area frequency 125.3. See you later, and good luck.”

“Cleared to three one zero, changing frequency 125.3, thank you, see you soon,” I told them, lifting my finger from the push-to-talk button. As I dialed in the frequency I heard Doe exhale. When we were in these kinds of training exercises she had a stressful aura about her. It put me on edge but I tried to ignore the tense air between us. I suppressed the urge to start a conversation and instead busied myself with getting to our altitude of 13,000ft. I knew we were far enough from the airspace of Miramar to get up to altitude as soon as possible.

“Ladies, this is your first hop, the gen 2 you are flying against are smaller, faster, and more maneuverable just like the enemy MiGs. The clock is ticking and as of now we are keeping score.” I heard Jester say to us.

“Left and low, they’re coming up fast, get ready,” Doe replied reading me the closing altitude between us. I forced our throttles forward immediately feeling the plane react to the movements almost instantaneously as I pulled us into a straight climb, looping around so that Jester would be in our forefront, however, my efforts were in vain as the plane had already disappeared by the time I was in position.

“Where’d he go Doe?” I asked her as she was frantically looking around, no doubt.

“I– I don’t see him, he must be to our left and just out of my sight.” I nodded taking her note into account, I banked hard right weaving us around and putting us into a slight dive so Doe could have better visibility.

“I see him. Off our right, still low and behind.” She advised me.

“So even though he’s faster he’s lagging behind us on purpose.” I thought out loud so Doe would know my process. Even though she was my RIO, we worked together as a team through situations such as these. It’s what I would want my pilot to do if I were a RIO.

“Doe, I’m gonna hit the brakes, he’ll fly right by, hopefully we can get a missile lock on him,” I told her.

“Let’s do it Reaper.” She confirmed my plans. I set my plan into action turning off the burners and lessening the throttles I pitched down to gain a little speed and have Jester fly by us. He did, I put the power back in and cruised behind him chasing him for once. I got him in my sights attempting to lock on him with my targeting system. However, the little bugger moved too quickly for my reflexes, my hand was pulsing in pain at this point with how much I pushed the threshold.

“Fuck. I can’t get him.” I said to Doe, upset that I wasn’t performing my best. He curved around behind us and I put the burners back on attempting to get away, but that lack of acceleration for a split second caused him to get a missile lock on us. The alarm blared in my ears and immediately my perspective changed.

I was flying in the mountains in Bosnia. The views were to die for, flying in this place was like a whole other world, I had never experienced this before. It was calming and beautiful with the pine trees, mountains, and crisp winter air. The snow that covered the area was pure and untouched. Why we were in the area was unimportant to me, all I knew was that we were here for reconnaissance, nothing more. My RIO and I had decided to divert from our original plan and take a detour against our better judgment. I was more like Maverick back then, uncalculated in my decisions and rash. The world was against Jax Taylor and I at this very moment. I felt the cold metal of my ring against my finger smiling as I looked down at the scenery. A happy memory was born, my fiancé and I were flying together with little to management’s knowledge.

“Where are we?” I asked him.

“301506.5 1150 confirmed, sectors have been confirmed.” He told me the numbers, but it didn’t make any sense.

“Are you sure, Casanova?” I asked, confirming what he was saying on my map and looking out the window.

“I’m reading it right here Dice.” He said to me annoyance slipping into his voice. I sighed knowing that this was not where we were.

“Well, we’re flying over a lake,” I said to him.

“Goddamnit, well one thank you goes out to the U.S. intelligence community.” He said saluting in the mirror looking at me.

“Yet another useless mission for the American taxpayer.” I quipped.

“Wait, hold on I’m getting something in sector 4.” He told me.

“That doesn’t make any sense, that’s a demilitarized zone over there. We’re not supposed to go there either.” I told him as I started mindlessly turning the aircraft about 10 degrees and back, my eyes focused on the area he was talking about. The area was shielded by trees, but you could see there was a bit of deforestation taking place just north of the tree line.

“When has that ever stopped you before? But my scope doesn’t lie, Dice, there’s something there.” He told me, adamant to get over to that sector. He never really understood my struggles as a female fighter pilot and I was already on thin ice with the brass. It was only one mission where we would deviate.

“Hey, we’re on recon, let’s recon something.” He argued with my judgment.

“See with that logic I can’t possibly argue with you, plus we have a shiny new camera to test out.” I easily agreed, not even thinking about the consequences of doing so.

“There you go. ECM is cleared, GPS is synced, putting in the coordinates, steady up zero three four, and fly the director.” He replied as I banked to the left to get us over the area he had pointed out.

“Standby for roll… Now.” I told him as I got closer, turning on the burners in case we needed to get out of there fast.

“Rolling digital.” He confirmed the camera's action. I maneuvered us to get out of the area, straight ahead back into a safe zone, also known as the lines we were supposed to be flying. Little alarms distracted me as I asked Casanova what was happening.

“What’s going on??” I asked him as I knew his eyes were on the radar more than mine were at the moment.

“Holy shit, we’re being painted!!” Casanova yelled at me, and my mindset quickly changed from complacent to tactical.

“What?!” I asked him out of pure shock from a simple flyby.

“Shit they fired, scoop it now,” he instructed. I did as he asked, quickly throwing the plane into a straight climb feeling the G-forces hit me.

“Okay, I don’t see it, call my turn. Where is it?” I asked him frantically trying to figure out which direction to go.

“Hard right. We’ll try to break the lock.” I immediately threw us into a right turn, not daring to dive below our current altitude fearing the missile would hit us. “Golden Eagle Arc Angel, we have been engaged!” I heard Casanova on the radio immediately trying to alert command.

“Put out the decoy flares” He instructed, I flipped the lever to deploy the flares. After that, I dove a little while looping us around our previous circle. “Got it… No joy.” He informed me as I continued flying in another direction not caring about how erratic the flight had gotten, I circled us around a mountain pass, trying to let Casanova get eyes on the missile.

“Where is it? Where is he?!” I yelled at him, trying to get him to talk to me, we needed to communicate better in this aspect especially when we were being targeted.

“Casanova, I have a second missile in the air, 3 miles, and closing,” I informed him as I knew he was now watching outside trying to spot the flying fireballs.

“Pull up!” He yelled again. I did as he requested and threw the plane into a straight climb.

“We need a bigger heat decoy.” He said, my pass around the mountain peak hadn’t worked. There was a leveled-off area near the top of the mountain. I watched my altitude as I got lower for a pass near the trees, the snow toppling off the branches as we passed.

“Where do you suppose I go for that? We’re in the middle of fucking winter!!” I yelled at him.

“Drop the fuel tank and pull up!” He yelled as I came to a slope. I released the tanks, listening for the boom as they hit the ground, immediately pulling up after I had dropped them.

“That’s it one down one to go! Where’s the second?” I asked him as I heard the crash from the missile hit.

“No joy, I don’t have it in sight!!” He said as I tried to get us out of the smoke banking hard right.

“He’s back on us, push over, hard left!” Casanova replied as we finally hit clear air. I watched where I was in comparison to the mountains, then made the turn flipping us around as I did so.

“I’m going for a head-on pass,” I told him as I barrelled toward the incoming missile, attempting to move my wings to the right so it wouldn’t clip us, but it was too late.

“He clipped us. He’s coming back. Turn left!” Casanova yelled.

“Fuck.” I released a breath and listened to the airplane, we had multiple caution lights on and master alarms, I would have attempted to do an emergency landing but there was no telling what would be waiting for us on the ground. We needed to get out of here.

“I’ve got no turn left Jax! The flight controls are shot.” I told him as the realization of the damage finally hit my brain.

“Then break right!” I had already started that turn but it was too late, the missile hit us dead center. I could feel the metal of the plane ripping apart before I saw Jax out the window. He went with the back of the plane floating for a second then diving down, my half took a nose dive starting to spin uncontrollably now.

“EJECT, EJECT, EJECT!” I yelled at him, pulling the two ropes above my head as I braced for the cool air against my skin. I heard the rivets on the canopy pop and the glass remove as I sailed through the air at the highest speed I’ve ever been outside of an aircraft. The chair was proving to be a problem and I needed to get out of it as soon as possible. Right as I had that thought Jax and I collided in midair, bouncing off each other effectively giving me a headache.

When the chute finally pulled I released my seat by pulling the lever on the side towards the sky. It dropped near a broken angel statue. I curiously watched it for a minute. Its wing had broken clean off and its face was mangled. It was beautiful and creepy at the same time. I brushed the thought away as I tried to navigate the chute and land in a field near Jax, however, I was dropping too fast to do anything. I was going to end up in the trees.

I fell through the branches feeling them each cut through my uniform and into my skin until my chute got caught up on one of the larger branches. I looked down taking in the fact that there were about five feet between me and the ground.

“Fuck.” I exhaled and took a breath in before I released myself from the chute, making sure to bend my knees upon impact so I wouldn’t break my legs on the fall. I stood, checking myself over making sure nothing was innately broken, just a few bumps and bruises. I started running in the direction I saw Jax go.

“Jax!! Jax!” I yelled as I saw him on the ground in the valley, I started to sprint my heart going fast as I ran up to him to check him over as well.

“Are you okay?” I asked him, worry breaking through as I saw him lying down propped up on his right arm. He had cuts all over his face from the fall.

“Yeah I’m alright, you look terrible.” I scoffed at his sarcasm as I slid to him on my knees and embraced him in a hug.

“Be serious, now’s not the time for bullshit,” I told him as I started to do an initial assessment of his leg. He had already applied a tourniquet, but it was already soaked through its color now crimson with his blood.

“Oh my god. I have to change this, now.” I said as I sniffed, my nose starting to run as it was freezing. I rummaged through my flight suit looking for a new tourniquet.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I love you, it’ll be alright” He said to me, grabbing my face to look at him, he started to wipe my tears away. I didn’t even realize that I had started to cry. In times such as these I tended to push through until I couldn’t anymore.

“I love you too, I’m fine Jax, let go of me. Let’s just get this patched up, okay?” I told him practically prying his hands off my face. Now was not the time to break down and he wasn’t helping me keep my emotions in check. If I allowed myself to feel we would be in way worse condition. I finally found a tourniquet and whipped it out. As I observed his wound I realized that I didn’t want to remove the old one and cause more damage so I placed it on top covering it up. I then pulled the ends as tight as I could and tied them together Jax whimpering in the process.

“I’m sorry” I whispered out. He nodded his gaze not leaving my eyes. As his hand searched for mine.

“Where are we?” I asked clearing my throat, as I held his gloved hand in my own. I was trying to distract him from the current situation, but it wasn’t working.

“In the mountains north of Miciovic. Do you think they saw us eject?” He asked me, not wanting to beat around the bush, I did love that about him.

“We won’t be here when they come looking. But the Navy is going to be wondering what happened to their 40 million dollar plane, so that gives me hope,” I told him pulling out my radio.

“I already tried, you need to get to higher ground.” I looked around at the pine trees that surrounded the valley.

“Do you think it’ll work up there?” I asked him pointing to the hill in question.

“Yes Maeve, just make sure you get high enough.” He told me. I sighed letting myself catch my breath, dropping his hand and bracing, putting my arm back to push myself up.

“Okay,” I took a deep breath, standing up.

“Wait–” Jax uttered, catching my wrist with his hand and pulling me back down to a squatting position in front of him.

“Yeah?” I asked him as the moment of silence stood between us.

“Promise me that you’ll move on if anything happens.” I started to shake my head and say no but he held up his hand to stop me from talking. Not normally an obedient little girl I stopped looking into his eyes that were starting to tear up. I wanted nothing more than to hold him.

“If something happens, I want you not to dwell on this moment, I want you to be happy. Try not to think about me too often but just enough. You cannot let grief control your life. I don’t want you to quit the Navy either. You love it here, you love flying. I know, you’ve got to be one of the best pilots out here. Don’t let those boys push you around, you’re a fantastic person and I know you’ll do great things when you get out of here. Once the assignment changes it will be worth it, I promise. This opportunity led me to you and I can’t thank whatever higher power is up there enough for that. I love you Maeve Scarlett Ford. Don’t you dare come after me, I want you to promise me that.” Before I knew it the tears were streaming down my face yet again. I hated him in this moment, it ripped me apart, but I knew that I would do the same thing in his position.

“I love you, Jax, I promise, but if we get out of here together we’re getting married immediately,” I told him as he brought our foreheads together and wiped my tears away.

“Immediately my love, I promise.” He smiled looking into my eyes and leaned in. As his lips touched mine I knew I would never move on from him, not fully at least. It was a wholesome and lingering kiss that would put me on my ass in a normal situation. But this was far from my definition of normal. The potential of becoming POWs was very real. But if I didn’t have to walk away from him now I never would. I ripped myself away from the love of my life and set my sights on the hill in front of me. I didn’t get very far before I stopped in my tracks.

“Babe, I should’ve dodged that fucking missile,” I said as I turned back to him.

“Yeah, yeah you should’ve, you blew it and you took me down with you. I thought you had great reflexes, what happened to you?! I used to have a good pilot, you’re slipping. You need to watch it.” He sarcastically replied with a smile on his face. My laugh penetrated the sad air that lingered around us. I walked away from him, continually looking back to make sure he was okay as I made the trek up the hill.

The sound of treads, tires, and footsteps startled my thoughts as I heard them cut through the mud and grass near Jax’s position. I stopped near a tree and pulled my miniature binoculars out. He was surrounded on all sides.

“Fuck.” I breathed out as I watched the army of men walk up to him and step on his newly dressed and now bloody wound. The men formed a circle around him, we were vastly outnumbered, and there was nothing I could do but watch. A car pulled up and the two men inside stepped out one with a navy blue beret on and the other in a blue sweatsuit. I watched as another man in the squad retrieved Jax’s handgun that was in his chest pocket and threw it to the man in the sweatsuit. I saw Jax give him a card that we carried in our pockets that is used in case we were shot down, the man threw it to the side not bothering to look at it. I watched as the beret talked to him and then touched his comrade in the sweatsuit's shoulder. The men filed away it looked like we may have gotten lucky, and my heart swelled with hope as sweatsuit man lit up a cigarette. I knew better than to go running back down the hill to him even though that’s all I wanted to do in this moment. The sweatsuit man helped Jax stand up. Jax glanced toward the treeline at me shaking his head no, he knew me well enough to know I would try something. My heart froze. The man in the sweatsuit inspected Jax’s flight helmet behind him just before he pulled Jax’s handgun and shot him in the head.

“NO!” I cried out realizing my mistake almost immediately, I covered my hand over my mouth as the tears started again. I quickly got up and started to run, I sprinted as they started to open fire on me with their tanks and guns, the ground exploading around me. I ran as fast as I possibly could away from everything I knew and loved. Now it was my turn to stay alive when all I wanted to do was give up. My body was not giving up.

Eventually, I reached the peak of a far mountain so that they would not find me. But I knew I would need to keep fighting, tomorrow was a different story. I pulled out my radio when I reached the top,

“Alpha Whiskey, this is Archangel 06 over.” I tried the radio sobbing uncontrollably as I tried to get an evacuation going.

“Damn, good attempt ladies. I’m impressed! Get back on the ground, we’ll debrief on the way back since you are the last flight of the day.” I heard Jester say to us but the words were muffled. I was stuck, I made no movements to the plane and kept it as we were straight and easy flying.

“Reaper?” I heard Doe ask me but I couldn’t snap out of it.

“Standby Jester,” She said to him over the frequency.

“Copy? What’s going on? Reaper, Doe? You alright?” He asked her confused.

“She’s fine, just give me a minute with her.” She replied, attempting to preserve my decency no doubt.

“Hey look at me.” She said sternly trying to get my attention in the mirror. My eyes flickered over to her but for a second I thought I could see Jax, his blue eyes sparkling at me as I took a deep breath. I blinked hard, attempting to get my eyes to focus and my brain to get back in the game.

“We’re okay, we did fine. It was a bit fast, but we’ll get it next time. I’m sure no one passed.” She said to me. I didn’t reply, thinking about the last time I saw Jax the gunshot echoing in my head. She tried again.

“Maeve, Jax isn’t here with you it’s me, Crystal, we’ll talk about it more once we’re on the ground but I need you to snap out of it now. We’re not in Bosnia, it’s not winter. It’s actually really fucking hot outside, so I’d love to get in some air conditioning. Can you do that for me, please? I know that missile lock sound probably set you off. But you're okay, you're here with me.” She said, I blinked again, tears forming in my eyes. I blinked them away looking around and seeing Jester on my wing.

“Fuck, he’s going to rip me apart,” I said to no one in particular.

“We’ll see, I’m hoping he lets this one slide,” Doe said to me.

“Jester, lead us back in,” I said over the frequency. He proceeded to bank left, and I banked left with him on his right-wing all the way. I focused on my landing, and how much different it was going to be from the aircraft carrier. I plugged in the frequency for ATIS and listened to the wind direction and speed, what runway they were using, and the alphabetical letter they assigned to the current ATIS.

“Reaper, Doe, we’ll debrief later at 19:00, get your showers in and see me in my office.” Jester said.

“Copy. Thank you sir” Doe replied.

“Miramar tower this is Reaper with Oscar coming from the northwest full stop”

“Copy Reaper overfly the airport and enter on the downwind for two four right, you’ve got Jester in front of you.”

“Enter on the downwind for two four right,” I replied to them. I veered to the left then when I felt a good distance from the runway I turned right entering the downwind.

“Reaper do a right 360 for spacing” Tower advised.

“Right 360” I replied as I entered a 30-degree right turn waiting for my clearance as I straightened up for my downwind leg. I put the landing gear down. Looking down I watched Jester land and clear the runway as I entered my base. I put in 20 degrees of flaps and reduced my power waiting for my airspeed to drop and then tilted my nose down turning into my final approach. I watched as the runway started to come up faster than I was expecting. I threw in 30 degrees quickly and dropped my power bringing us into a flatter attitude. Tilting the nose up as I did so I felt the ground beneath the wheels. I listened to the taxi instructions and forced myself to do the rest of the movements until we were parked on the tarmac in our spot.

“You okay?” Doe asked me, knowing I was more than likely going to have to explain this to the guys.

“I’ll be alright, I need a shower,” I told her as I shut down both her and the aircraft, popping open the canopy. I couldn’t wait to feel hot water against my skin to wash away the memories I had today.

Next Chapter

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bitofthisandthat · 2 years

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@reanimatedmuses

Oops. Maybe speeding joyriding out of Park 5th and out into the Burroughs at night wasn’t so smart...At least when this latest prototype wasn’t fully approved for road use. She just couldn’t wait for them to run it at the airbase, she HAD to take it from the factory hangar and zip out on her own.

Besides, she ALWAYS tested the machinery at Future Industries. And no one in Brooklyn knew who she was. Which...is not an advantage when your top-secret sleek little car runs out of steam in the middle of a neighborhood you DON’T frequent.

“Oh....great.”

A quick call back to HQ, and daddy will send 2 suits to haul her home and tow the sensitive ‘property’ of F.I. to be dismantled and hidden away until everyone out here forgets they saw her drive it.

No. She’s not calling for help. She just needs to get it running again, and then she’s out of here, unscathed. She hopes. Asami checks the dash for the diagnostics and frowns.

If her father wasn’t so busy schmoozing with his investors, he’d have noticed her stepping out. Of course, they had both been playing this little game of pretending they never noticed when the other was missing for a time since she was 12. Years of being surrounded by ONLY adults and nobody her own age--outside of formal gatherings--had made her very adept at working around older people. With her refined background and all her training, she could play anyone older than her like a fiddle...

But now, none of that mattered. Sighing in resignation, she readies herself for having to fend off the worst. But until then, she flicks off the door lock, and the hydraulics lift open, letting her out of the tiny, speedy vehicle. “Better get this handled...fast.”

Pistachio eyes dart around her surroundings, looking for any witnesses--none she can see so far. She opens the hood with a loud HISSSS, more pressure from the top secret power source giving off its location. “Wonderful...Can’t imagine anyone hearing THAT.” Grimacing, she yanks a tool out of the hidden compartment beneath the hood, and goes to work...until she hears a crunch on the pavement behind her. Spinning on her heels, she darts her attention behind her. “Who’s there!?”

#reanimatedmuses #🛠️ASAMI SATO🛠️#MODERN! ASAMI #{ Pick whichever boi first; obviously if things go as they go she'll meet them all eventually XD }#V: STILL HEIRESS; STILL DEBUTANTE; STILL NOT DADDY'S HELPLESS LITTLE GIRL || ASAMI IN NYC ROTTMNT VERSE

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taruu03 · 10 months

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High Pressure Washer - The Perfect Way to Clean Your Home and Car

If you're looking for an easy and efficient way to clean your home and car, a High Pressure Washer Manufacturers is the perfect solution. These machines use powerful jets of water to blast away dirt, mud, and other debris, making it easy to get your surfaces clean in just a few minutes. Plus, they're relatively affordable, making them a great option for anyone on a budget.

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There are many reasons why you should use a high pressure washer. A high pressure washer can help you clean your driveway, your car, your patio, and so much more. A high pressure washer can also help you remove dirt, dust, and stains from your surfaces.

Before you start using your high pressure washer, it is important to read the manufacturer’s instructions. Different models have different features, and it is important to know how to use them correctly to avoid damaging your equipment or injuring yourself. Once you have familiarized yourself with the washer’s features, it’s time to start using it. The first step is to attach the hose to the wand and the water supply. Make sure the wand is in the correct position for the job you are doing.

Next, turn on the water and squeeze the spray trigger to start the flow of water. Be careful not to aim the wand at anyone or anything you don’t want to get wet. When you are finished using the washer, turn off the water and release the spray trigger. Be sure to release the trigger before disconnecting the hose from the wand.

There are many benefits to using a high pressure washer. Some of these benefits include:

1. Increased Cleaning Power - A high pressure washer provides more cleaning power than a standard garden hose. This means that it can remove more dirt, grime, and residue from surfaces.

2. Faster Cleaning - A high pressure washer can clean surfaces much faster than a standard garden hose.

3. Easier Cleaning - A high pressure washer can help to make cleaning tasks easier. This is because it can remove dirt and grime from surfaces that are difficult to clean with a standard garden hose.

4. Improved Safety - A high pressure washer can help to improve safety when cleaning. This is because it can help to reduce the amount of time that is needed to clean a surface, which can help to minimize the risk of injury.

There are a lot of high pressure washers on the market, but not all of them are created equal. Some of the best ones are commercial-grade machines that can handle heavy-duty cleaning jobs. Others are more suited for lighter-duty work, like cleaning a car or a deck.

When shopping for a high pressure washer, it's important to consider the size of the machine, the type of engine, and the pressure rating. Some machines are more portable than others, and some have more features than others. It's also important to read reviews from other buyers to get an idea of what the machine is capable of. And, of course, it's always a good idea to consult with a professional before making a purchase. So if you're in need of a good cleaning, be sure to check out the high pressure washers at your local hardware store. They're sure to make your cleaning tasks a lot easier!

#High Pressure Washer #Heavy Duty High-Pressure Washer #Hydraulic Pressure Test Pump

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heysawbones · 1 year

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So. I just learned about the Krylov State Research Center in St. Petersburg. These are the upper portion of pressure testing tanks. This facility has the greatest hydraulic pressure test capacity in the world.

I feel like you gotta thank the Soviets for those colors. Just look at that.

Look at this LOGO

#shipbuilding #industrial equipment

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hawkepockets · 1 year

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tarakk’s SOMEWHAT expanded intro post 👇

L: Tarakk with goggles on. R: Hawkk & Tarakk.

Tarakk (he/him)

Pepa’s bf, Ankka & Gorrik’s old mentor, harb. Co-created with @antariies.

🕷️ Tarakk is an accomplished toxinologist—not to be confused with a toxicologist, who studies & treats the affects of poisons on the body; he studies the chemical makeup & biological production of venoms, and synthesizes his own. His favorite specimen is, controversially, a Risen spider. (Though he’s always wanted to meet a Canthan blossom spinner!)

🕷️ Formerly a Synergetics professor, and the college’s arachnology lab sponsor. Gorrik had a campus job there, and quickly became Tarakk’s mentee & favorite student. He knew Gorrik was alone except for Blish, and when Gorrik dropped out to join the Inquest, Tarakk also resigned and went with him, hoping he could protect his protege from the Inquest’s ugliness.

🕷️ Tarakk got his own toxinology lab, two brilliant assistants (Gorrik & Ankka), and near infinite resources. Life was good until his Inquest overseer passed along a commission order from “B” (Scarlet), for a toxin that was both injectable & aersolizable, and would cause rapid, painful death in all 5 major races. Tarakk was excited by the challenge, but hesitant—who would need this? Why would anyone want it to exist?

🕷️ Tarakk sabotaged the project, synthesizing a toxin that did what B wanted, but would only cause living death symptoms in its victims, putting them to sleep and suppressing vital signs & life force. Ankka, afraid his tampering would get her and Gorrik executed along with him, reported him to their overseer.

🕷️ The Bioweapons Department overseer was a brutal company man by the name of Hawkk (@antariies). Far from wanting to see Tarakk fail, Hawkk was more than a little bit in love with the enthusiastic & long-eared older asura. (Tarakk had been totally open to a relationship and flirted openly with Hawkk, but Hawkk’s devotion to Inquest krewe policy kept him from even indulging in fantasies about fraternization with underlings! Mostly.) This made Tarakk’s betrayal of the Inquest sting twice as venomously. Hawkk wasn’t just frustrated that the product was defective, or terrified of telling “B” the deal was off. He was inflamed by hurt.

🕷️ During the toxin’s final demonstration, Tarakk was “accidentally” locked inside the test chamber instead of his test subject, and despite Ankka & Gorrik’s frantic efforts neither the door release nor the poison ampule would respond. Tarakk was overdosed with his own formula, and went through days of coma, then sleep paralysis and bone-deep cold. It was Hawkk, of course, who hit the button, and he never forgave himself.

🕷️ When he recovered, Tarakk was slow moving, narcoleptic, and couldn’t shake off the chill. Strong emotions make him fall asleep, and he has attacks of aches, shivers, and fatigue. He can’t see his own life force, but to other necros & druids it appears dim. He’s forever at half HP. To cope with the symptoms, with Gorrik’s help, he built himself a backpiece with spiderlike metal limbs that helped him move around the lab and would lose hydraulic pressure and curl around him defensively if he fell asleep. He was even more absentminded, workaholic, and vague than he had been in Synergetics. He needed to reminded over and over and physically nudged to look up from his work, eat, and sleep (which he did under his desk) and became more of a lab mascot & liability than a mentor to Gorrik and Ankka.

🕷️ They packed him up with the lab equipment and brought him along to Thaumanova, and Gorrik later took him to Sandswept Isles.

🕷️ When the Inquest lab was self-destructing, Gorrik went back in a panic to find Tarakk and drag him along to safety. Despite DW’s reservations about what looked like a shameless veteran Inquest scientist, he was allowed to come along, and earned his place in the guild when he developed a new toxin, based on his research for “B,” that put plague scarab beetles into hibernation, allowing them to be removed from human victims and saving thousands of lives in Kourna.

🕷️ Tarakk is still not lucid or mobile 100% of the time, but Pepa will tell you he’s a genius of their time.

🕷️ The intersection of dad jokes & professor humor is catastrophic.

#gw2 #guild wars 2 #oc: tarakk #friend oc: hawkk #oc: pepa #ankka #gorrik #long post

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cneasteel · 7 months

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Exploring the Aluminum Profile Processing Intricacies

Aluminum profile is unique among components used in modern production because of their versatility and necessary nature. Applications for these extruded forms may be found in a wide range of sectors, including consumer products, electronics, automotive, and construction. A thorough grasp of material qualities, technical innovation, and precise engineering are all required in the exciting process of creating aluminum profiles.

Aluminum Profiles Significance

Because of their many benefits, aluminum profiles are the material of choice for a wide range of applications:

Lightweight

Power and Sturdiness

The corrosion free

Flexibility

The Procedure for Processing Aluminum Profiles

Design and Development of Die: Engineers develop the ideal profile form and proportions during the process's first design step. A unique die, or mold, is made after the design is complete in order to extrude the metal into the required shape.

Heating the billet: To prepare it for extrusion, aluminum billets, which are usually formed from primary or recycled aluminum, are heated to a particular temperature. In order to guarantee consistency and malleability, this preheating phase is critical.

Extrusion: Using mechanical or hydraulic pressure, the heated aluminum billet is pushed through a specifically made die. The metal takes on the shape of the profile as it goes through the die and emerges as a continuous length of extruded aluminum.

Quenching and Cooling: To maintain its shape and characteristics, the extruded aluminum profile is quickly cooled with either water or air. In order to achieve the appropriate mechanical characteristics and avoid distortion, this quenching procedure is essential.

Cutting and Finishing: Using precision saws or shears, the extruded aluminum profile is trimmed to the necessary lengths once it has cooled. The profile may also be modified by using additional machining techniques like punching, drilling, or milling to add holes or features. Lastly, surface treatments like powder coating or anodizing can be used to improve corrosion resistance and appearance.

Quality Control: Strict quality control procedures are followed during the whole Aluminum profile Process to guarantee that the final aluminum profiles have the required mechanical qualities, surface polish, and tolerances. To find any flaws or irregularities, this may entail visual inspections, mechanical testing, and dimensional inspections.

#Aluminum profile #Aluminum profile China #Aluminum profile Process #Aluminum profile Company #Aluminum profile Company China #Aluminum profile Manufacturer #Aluminum profile supplier

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comraderomeo · 1 year

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Where Skin Ends Ch. 3

Updated Every Other Thursday

links: ao3 masterpost

cw: simulated war

One of the attendants guides you into the almost-featureless box on stilts that constitutes a cutting-edge ‘mech simulator. You scramble in through the back of the box. Climbing over the command couch is always a weird feeling, and as you do, you silently wonder why they don't just let you in through the front or top like a “real ‘mech.” It doesn't matter really, and they probably had reasons enough. At least you don't have to use the heating functions this time, so get to keep your uniform on and cooling vest at base. Once you're seated and grab your neurohelmet off the assistant handing it to you, the door closes, leaving the cockpit completely dark until the screens emulating the front window blink on and take the shape of a Hatchetman’s viewport. With that light, you look thoughtfully over the white and orange livery that has been painted on your helmet for over a decade. Satisfied that it wasn't marred on the way in, you sweep your hair behind your ears to reveal the area of your forehead you habitually keep shaved and slide the helmet on. It rests comfortably on your shoulders, a calming pressure. Then, you slide the connections into place and run through an approximation of Her startup. Lights all over the control console start flickering on. You look them over row by row; when satisfied, you start the neural connection. As has happened time and time before, senses are muddled in an abstract way. It's almost as if the very edges of your body are fading. Many mechwarriors complain about it, but you think it's nice in a way, reveling in the brief loss of self. What isn't nice, however, is the minor headache you always get from simulators. One would think the fact that it’s not a real interface would save you from neural feedback, but sadly that isn’t the case.

After a few control tests, all accompanied by the artificial shudders of the hydraulic system beneath you, the simulation places you at the top of a hill opposite from where your adversaries would arrive. The other ‘mechs in your lance are in a line-up either side of you. Over the comms, you hear Alex,

“Alpha Lance, check in.”

“Calm reporting.”

“This is Scholar. I am on station.”

There's a small pause as you remember that you have to speak,

“Jester here.”

“And, as always, I'm Storm,” Alex finishes. He then goes about orders,

“Alright everyone, get to your positions, and I need Jester to disable all non-engine heatsinks, except the legs, until the enemy enter the sector. Then, shut them all down until you move.”

“Right…”

You didn't recall the part about the heatsinks being mentioned in the plan, but set your ‘mech into motion regardless. The simulated steps rumble in your ears while you traverse the landscape, flipping through diagnostic screens as you run. The cockpit would normally be warming itself into discomfort with each heatsink you disable. You can imagine the sweat that should be wetting your back at this point, even though you're only jogging. Once you hit the treeline, your gait slows. Trees crack against digital armored legs, and you notice a collection of vehicles spread across the forest floor.

“This is Jester; am I supposed to have tanks over here?”

“Affirmative, you're going to guide those SRM carriers into the back of the enemy.”

“You really weren't paying attention at the briefing, huh?”

“Shut up, Calm. I've got it.”

You really don't. It's again luck that the consequences are mostly emotional. Regardless, it's time to stumble through this as best you can.

“Jester again, if there's tanks here, where's the Corporal?”

Ashe laughs on mic, clearly intentionally.

“There's at least-”

A squeal fills your ears as Calm steps on Storm’s transmission. He relents to let her talk,

“Be glad I know what you're on about, Jester. As Calm was about to say, there's at least three of those in the 57th, but the one you're looking for is in a heavy tank over by Scholar.”

“Roger…”

Why did you even ask that question? You're not sure. Maybe it’s to avoid embarrassment again. Still, you hunker down in the forest and get comfortable for the inevitably long wait. The forest is just tall enough that the trees brush the bottom of your viewport. Well, they would if they were real. Instead, the bottom portion of your vision is taken up by some slightly off-looking leaf textures that sway predictably in the simulated wind. You brace your feet against the bottom of your control console and lie back. That's an awful idea, but you care more about the comfort it gives you than the possibility of accidentally destroying your fusion reactor. Once set, you push a button, then twist a dial until you find the frequency your pet SRM carriers are monitoring. You greet the crowd,

“This is Jester, reporting in for naptime.”

“Received, Sergeant. This is Leutnant Koumans of the 103rd Support Battalion. We'll be here when you need us.”

“Good. Try not to get distracted by… whatever debauchery it is people get up to in tanks.”

“Oh, it's nothing you could handle, Sir, but don't worry we're very good at multitasking.”

Now is when you should laugh along with them, build camaraderie, but you choose to let the brief exchange die. That leaves you in relative silence. You expect to hear some chatter on the radio from your lancemates. It's usually something about Ed’s ‘mech throwing error codes that never really matter, or Ashe and Alex getting disgustingly flirty over open comms. However, they're probably busy coordinating with the tanks on another frequency. You tell yourself you prefer the silence. It will still be a while until the enemy are engaged too, so you figure now would be as good a time as any to rest your eyes a bit. If you're needed, they'll surely radio you.

You always recall things in frames. First, there were the edges of the neurohelmet you’ve worn all your life. Then, the viewport of a ‘mech much bigger and more cruel than your own looked through the doors of a ‘mech bay out into the fields of a common pasture, dotted with a few clusters of livestock. And, beyond that, trapped between the green and the sky, was complete desolation.

You sit up straight in your command couch, lightly bumping your knee on the console, and hit the side of your helmet, as if it was the one that had wronged you. Looking at the chronometer idly ticking away, you realize it's only been a few minutes. The small curse you utter to yourself muffles itself in the padding that surrounds your head. It's an easy conclusion that you're better off flipping through diagnostic screens and view modes, rather than zoning out again. Watching numbers oscillate between tolerances isn't particularly fulfilling nor is swapping between thermal and magscan sensors. However, right as you flick back to the dull rainbow heatmap of your surroundings, a bright red bolt haloed in yellow streaks across your vision. The shot from a Particle Projector Cannon causes a spray of dirt to kick up at the bottom of a foothill. They're way off mark. You trace a swarm of Long Range Missiles back across the battlefield, as Storm, Scholar, and a few tanks return fire. Most of the shots are wasted, but a few scattered ones impact the ‘mech that your sensors quickly identify as “VND.”

“A Vindicator, how on brand.” you say to no one. The rest of the forward lance crest into sight, and your targeting system flickers more designations up for you: WTH, CLNT, and a more sinisterly coloured SHD to contrast Edward’s ‘mech Scholar. The Clint and the Shadow Hawk advance steadily toward the defending line, which you note is a stupid move. The artificial mechwarriors piloting them seem to realize this too, as after a decent amount of their armor had been melted under extended range fire, they divert to a small forest on the far side of the pass. Meanwhile, the Vindicator and Whitworth hold back. The former is making wide esses to keep itself nimble, while sending off streams of missiles punctuated by crackling PPC shots. The other sits itself patiently in a moderately wooded area and launches an almost never-ending flow of missiles. The forces on your side are maneuvering with a slow precision. Ashe takes Calm up on top of a decently tall foothill and points its cockpit directly toward the Whitworth. Seconds later, explosions rain from the sky, nearly annihilating the trees and leaving the ‘mech with one less arm than it started its short digital life with. Over the radio, Edward comments with sounds of combat clear in the background,

“That would be a shame, if it were real. The Whitworth is becoming rare.”

“Yeah, well if we find one out there, I'll try not to core it for you.”

“I am not a collector. However, it is appreciated.”

“Quit the banter; we still have another lance inbound.”

You just sit quietly as they talk, not sure if you should be radio silent or not. It’s not much of a loss. Shortly after, the two advancing ‘mechs take a brief pause. The supporting ones sidle off as well. It's almost as if they're a royal guard announcing the entrance of an emperor, because just then the assault lance enters your view. They enter side-by-side in what’s clearly modeled on a real life intimidation tactic. Again, you're given a series of designations. An Awesome stands on the furthest end from you, eager to lend its three PPCs to the Vindicator. Then, there is a Zeus already accelerating to close distance. A Cyclops was next, standing proud over its subordinates, slowly becoming a prime threat. Finally, on the end closest to you, a familiar form catches your eye.

Framed by maintenance rigging, you see the Black Knight. His form was contoured, yet intimidating; it's very clearly invoking the legendary tales of ancient terran soldiers. When draped in the honorable colours of orange and white, He was a sight to behold. A ‘tech was nearby, busy rambling about all the details of a shakedown that was to happen that afternoon. That was all secondary. It was impossible to focus on what was said, when His gaze was so entrancing and total. You feel pain knowing you will never again see something so pristine and elegant in your lifetime.

“Ah fuck, I wasn't expecting that much tonnage.”

“We have a whole armored regiment on our side, Calm; what’d you expect?”

An autocannon shot hits a light tank in just the wrong spot and starts the ammunition cooking off. In your lull, the Zeus and Cyclops have made significant progress toward the front line. Both Scholar and Calm seem to have noticeable damage, and a decent number of tanks are entirely out of action. However, on a brighter note, it seems the enemy’s Whitworth hadn't stood up to much more artillery fire, probably to Edward’s chagrin. You realize it’s almost time to move, and reach out to grab your twin control sticks. Your feet nestle into the grips of the jump jet pedals. You have to admit that it feels good to be at the controls of a battlemech, even a simulated one. It's just a few more minutes now, but it's hard to sit still while you're watching everyone else lose your battle for you. Despite your anticipation, your sense for a battlefield stays on to tell you that, even though they're taking some losses, the 57th will utterly gut the medium lance in short order. Good on them. Meanwhile, your comrades have been sparring with ‘mechs that dwarf them, and aren't holding up all that well. Just as the 57th wrap up the Capellan Shadow Hawk, the Knight and Awesome start moving down from their supportive position to bring more to bear on the remnants. It's unsure whether Alex’s plan was foolproof or if the AI in the simulation is just foolish, but they passed right by you and the carriers without even a second glance. That puts their rear armor right in your sights.

“Jester, you're up.”

You grin behind the helmet and start returning heatsinks to functionality. Over the other frequency you speak, excitement dripping from your words like blood from the mouth of a scavenger,

“Times up, Leutnant. Follow me in…”

#battletech #mechwarrior #fiction #where skin ends #original character #mechs #etc

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