#kernel error

[chaoticharlotte]

I just spent 10 minutes trying to figure out why the new kernel I installed wasn't showing up in GRUB. It tends to help if I actually have the grub-mkconfig command actually output to grub.cfg so GRUB will recognize it.

[maizeversal]

some symbols to represent three major forces of the Multiverse: Creativity, Emotion, and Interface

[pacicidal]

If things continue to occur, I may just fall apart irreparably like a nature valley bar

[emblogicsblog]

Writing Character Device Driver

Writing Character Device Driver - A Linux character device driver allows user programs to interact with hardware devices by reading or writing data one character at a time. Developing such drivers requires understanding the Linux kernel's structure, APIs, and coding practices.

Linux Kernel APIs and Key Concepts

The kernel provides APIs like register_chrdev() and alloc_chrdev_region() for registering character devices. Each device is identified by major and minor numbers, enabling the kernel to associate device files with their respective drivers.

File Operations and Device Registration

Drivers implement a set of file operations (struct file_operations) to define how the kernel handles user interactions, such as opening, reading, and writing the device. Properly registering the device using functions like cdev_add() ensures integration with the kernel.

Challenges in Development

Writing device drivers involves challenges like managing hardware-specific quirks, maintaining thread safety, and ensuring synchronization using mechanisms like mutexes, spinlocks, and semaphores. Compatibility across kernel versions and varying hardware specifications adds complexity.

Coding Standards and Security

Linux emphasizes clean, maintainable code. Following the kernel coding style and using the required headers ensures compliance. Security practices, such as validating user inputs and minimizing kernel attack surfaces, are critical in driver development.

Testing and Documentation

Thorough testing with tools like kmod and insmod is crucial. Developers must document interfaces, supported hardware, and usage instructions to aid users and maintainers.

Future Trends

With advancements in hardware, Linux device drivers will increasingly focus on improved modularity, real-time performance, and compatibility with modern interfaces like PCIe and USB 4.0.

By adhering to Linux's guidelines and practices, developers can create robust character device drivers that meet the needs of modern systems.

Linux character device driver development,Kernel modules,Device driver coding,Major and minor numbers Linux,File operations structure,Device registration in Linux,Hardware specifications for drivers,Linux kernel compatibility,Driver synchronization mechanisms,Error handling in drivers.

[snipefr]

all 3s :0

[goyardgoyangi]

movie night with best friend! ino takuma

mdni (18+), read with discretion

You and best friend! ino takuma are sprawled on the couch, legs tangled beneath a shared blanket, bowls of popcorn and snacks scattered across the coffee table. The soft blue glow of the TV washes over you both as the credits for Fifty Shades of Grey roll, ending what was supposed to be an unserious pick for movie night.

It really did start as a joke— a dumb movie playing in the background while you talked shit and vented about your CS lab. Neither of you thought you’d actually watch it. But somehow, you did. And somehow, it was… weirdly entertaining?

Not because it was good. But because it was so bad.

“Can you believe some divorced middle-aged women are really into this shit?” Ino snorts, tossing popcorn into his mouth, nearly choking on a laugh. “Shit lighting and cold-ass metal handcuffs? That’s the fantasy?”

“You know,” you mutter, flicking a kernel of popcorn at him, “if divorced middle-aged women are really into this, they’re freakier than I thought.”

“Don’t forget the damn ice cube. Man acted like he invented temperature.”

You laugh, leaning your head back. “This whole movie is just two hours of annoyingly soft BDSM. Honestly, the pacing was worse than our lecture slides.”

That gets him going. “Oh my god, not the 48-slide presentation on recursion.”

You groan. “No, worse. That one time we spent four hours trying to debug a group project just for the TA to say ‘did you try running it in the terminal again?’ Like yeah, that would totally fix a segmentation fault.”

Ino barks a laugh, nudging your leg with his knee. “You’re still mad about that, huh?”

“Bro. He said we had a logic error, then gave us a 2.1 like it was a favor.”

You both dissolve into giggles. But then, somewhere between the laughter and the low hum of the TV, there’s a shift.

A glance. A silence.

“That ice cube scene had me questioning my entire existence,” you say, voice low, teasing. “You actually believe it’s that good?”

Ino tilts his head at you. “You tryna test it?”

You lift a shoulder, casual. “I mean… the takeout’s not coming for another 40 minutes. We could… experiment. In the name of science.”

He stares at you for a beat, a smirk playing on his lips. “What kind of science? ‘Cause our track record’s mostly just us suffering through broken code and pretending we don’t want to drop the class.”

You lean in slightly, your smile edged with something a little more daring now. “Exactly. We deserve to test a hypothesis that doesn’t end in existential dread.”

He lets out a low chuckle. “So you wanna see if an ice cube can actually make someone— what? Cum?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Just curious if divorced middle-aged women are full of shit or not.”

Ino pauses, his eyes flicking from your face to your mouth, then back. “Strictly for academic purposes?”

You nod solemnly. “Peer-reviewed results.”

He laughs under his breath, standing up and stretching. “Alright. One ice cube.”

You both agree, giggling like kids daring each other to jump off a high dive.

Ino grabs an ice cube from the freezer, holding it loosely between his fingers as water drips down his wrist. He raises an eyebrow at you, that familiar grin quirking at the corner of his mouth.

You lean back against the couch cushions, heart fluttering with a strange cocktail of nerves and excitement. “Okay,” you say, your voice a little breathy, “just… run it over my neck or something.”

He nods, stepping closer, kneeling on the couch beside you. The first touch is tentative— a glinting cube of ice brushing the curve of your collarbone. The cold shocks you, and you flinch, a laugh bubbling up from your chest.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, “that’s colder than I thought—”

But you don’t tell him to stop.

Ino’s touch is slow, deliberate. The ice trails over your skin in lazy lines, tracing along the dip of your neck, across the slope of your shoulder, and down toward your chest. The air shifts, charged with something unspoken.

“You’re shivering,” he murmurs, watching closely.

“I-It’s cold, idiot,” you stammer, laughing— though the sound catches in your throat when the ice drifts over the swell of your breast.

Your nipples stiffen under the chill, and you feel heat spark embarrassingly low in your belly. You’re not supposed to be reacting like this. This was a joke. A bit.

But Ino notices.

He doesn’t say anything right away— just watches you, his hand pausing for a moment as a single drop of melted ice rolls down your skin, disappearing beneath your top.

“Feels good?” he asks, voice quieter now, teasing— but not mocking.

You swallow. “It’s... weird.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, lips twitching. “Weird like debugging for six hours and finding out it was a missing semicolon, or weird like ‘we probably shouldn’t be enjoying this’ kind of weird?”

You shoot him a look, but you can’t bring yourself to deny it. Your body is betraying you. The tension in your thighs. The goosebumps..

He presses the cube just beneath your breast, not quite touching, just letting the cold proximity taunt your skin. You jolt a little and let out an unintentional noise, somewhere between a gasp and a moan, and immediately slap your hand over your mouth, mortified.

“Sorry,” you blurt out, cheeks blazing. “It just— happened.”

A beat of stunned silence.

Then: “That’s... kinda hot.”

You want to sink into the couch. “Don’t say it like that!”

“What? I’m serious,” he laughs, voice a little rough around the edges now. “I didn’t think that was even real. I thought that kind of reaction was like, a porn-only thing.”

“Well, it’s not!” you say quickly, burying your face in your hands. “Oh my god, Ino.”

He’s quiet for a moment, like he’s thinking. You peek through your fingers and see the way he’s looking at you, not with judgment. With curiosity. Like he’s just discovered something entirely new.

You're so embarrassed you squeeze your eyes shut, as if that could dull the sensation— but it only heightens everything. Every glide, every flicker of cold across your heated skin feels sharper, more intimate in the dark behind your eyelids.

“Too cold?” Ino’s voice is low and smug, the sound brushing your ear.

“No,” you whisper, shaky. “Just... surprised.”

The ice moves again, circling lazily, spreading cold in soft arcs over your breast. Every motion makes your stomach clench, warmth pooling lower. You squirm under the touch, overwhelmed by how good it feels— how stupidly good.

“Your reactions are way too cute,” Ino murmurs, his grin is audible in the silence that follows.

You peek at him through half-lidded eyes, flushed and breathless.

He just laughs under his breath, fingers still steady, eyes focused entirely on you.

The ice has melted down to a smaller sliver now, slick between his fingers. He trails it over the curve of your breast through the thin fabric of your top, and you shiver again, a soft sound escaping your lips despite yourself.

Your thighs shift. You’re hyperaware of everything— his breathing, your heartbeat, the dampness between your legs that has nothing to do with the melting ice.

“I can grab another one,” he offers, voice husky but careful, waiting for your reaction.

You nod again, unable to find your voice. Your skin’s already tingling, every nerve buzzing like you’re standing too close to a speaker. You’ve never felt like this from something so… simple. So stupid. A cube of ice.

Ino returns with a fresh one, crouching between your legs now as he leans forward. “Just tell me if it gets weird, okay?”

You nod a third time, cheeks burning, your breath shaky. “Okay.”

This time, he drags it lower— down your sternum, over your stomach, circling your navel. His eyes flick up to yours, reading your face the whole time, and when you don’t stop him, he tugs the hem of your shirt up, exposing more skin.

“You’re really warm,” he mutters.

“Thanks?” you squeak, trying to joke, but it comes out too breathy to land right.

The ice cube slips lower, tracing the waistband of your shorts. He hesitates, eyes searching yours again. “Still good?”

Your voice is barely a whisper. “Yeah.”

His free hand steadies you, fingers splayed warm against your waist. The contrast is insane. Your body tenses, hips twitching the closer he gets to where you really want him.

It’s not even supposed to be serious, this whole thing started as a joke, an experiment. But the way you’re breathing? The heat pooling between your thighs? There’s nothing funny about it anymore.

When he pushes your waistband down just enough to reach the crease of your inner thigh, you tense. It’s instinct, your body coiling with anticipation as cold hits heat again. The contrast makes your toes curl. You suck in a breath and arch just slightly, chasing sensation before you can stop yourself.

The cube dips lower, and your breath stutters.

“Ino,” you whine, voice embarrassingly thin.

The ice finally presses lower, catching against your inner thigh before sliding up to your center.

The second it grazes over your clit, your body jerks, thighs instinctively trying to snap shut— but Ino’s hand is there, steady and careful, holding you open.

You gasp, back arching. It’s too much. Too cold. Too perfect.

And then it happens.

It’s not something you meant to do. It builds too fast, hitting harder than you expect. A rush of warmth floods out of you in a sudden, helpless pulse— and your eyes fly open in shock.

You squirt.

Your body trembles, caught in the aftershocks of this new pleasure, and the world around you blurs as the sensation pulses deep within your core. Each wave reverberates through your fingertips, sending tiny sparks up your arms and into your chest.

The chill of the ice fades, giving way to a warmth that pulls your back into a natural arch— spine curving, chest rising. Your nipples, flushed and tender from the ice, ache with sensitivity, and every subtle motion sends dizzying jolts of pleasure through you.

Your head tips back without thought, throat bare, your whole body aching forward into Ino.

Another moan escapes, soft and trembling, a lot more whinier this time, laced with the neediness building inside you.

Your body shudders, overwhelmed by a rush of sensation pulsing through every nerve ending. Instinctively, your fingers clench tightly beneath you, knuckles whitening as you reach out for something, anything, to ground you.

Sensing your need, Ino’s hand moves without hesitation, slipping gently into yours. His fingers entwine with yours like a lifeline, grounding you, anchoring you back from the overwhelming sense of pleasure.

His eyes flick down, then widen, completely captivated by your body.

The softness of your skin, the heat radiating from your flushed breasts, it’s impossible for him not to get hard. He tries to commit the moment to memory.

You look so damn irresistible, he thinks, heart pounding.

Your breathing comes in shallow pulls, your chest rising and falling as you reel from the intensity. But the high is short-lived. Shame creeps in slow, then crashes over you all at once— your skin burning, your throat tight, your face impossibly hot.

You slap your hand over your face, mortified.

“Oh my God— Ino— I didn’t mean to—”

“No way—” he whispers, pausing. “you just…?”

“Shut up,” you groan, curling into yourself, face burning. “We are never speaking of this again.”

“No, wait, hold on—” He sounds breathless now, stunned. “You—actually—? That’s —holy shit.”

You groan again, rolling onto your side to hide your face in the pillow. “It was an accident! I swear!”

“I’m not— judging,” he rushes to say, placing a hand gently on your hip. “I just… didn’t know it could happen like that. That really fast.”

You nod, cheeks flaming as you laugh nervously, voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah, right. You’re just saying that to make me feel better. I— I basically just peed in front of you. I want to die.”

But instead of teasing you, Ino’s smile softens into something almost shy. “Honestly? I really didn’t think that could happen… but, uh, it’s kinda hot. Promise.”

You wring your hands, cheeks burning as your eyes dart away, wanting to hide but also craving to hear him say it’s okay, to reassure you.

Ino reaches out and gently brushes his fingers against yours. “Well,” he says, voice teasing but warm, “some guys are into that kind of thing. You’re definitely not weird. So stop looking so miserable.”

You swallow hard, cheeks still blazing, your heart fluttering wildly in your chest— part mortified, part something else you can’t quite name.

There’s a beat of silence. You peek up at him— he looks flustered, pink creeping up his cheeks, eyes glued to where your shorts are still bunched low on your hips.

Then, quietly:

“Can I try again?”

[phantomrose96]

At this point, after this has happened a dozen times, why the hell is anyone pushing any update that wide that fast. They didn't try 10 nearby computers first? Didn't do zone by zone? Someone needs to be turbo fired for this and a law needs to get written.

The "this has happened a dozen times" really isn't correct. This one is unprecedented.

But yes the "how the hell could it go THAT bad?" is the thing everyone with even a little software experience is spinning over. Because it is very easy to write code with a bug. But that's why you test aggressively, and you roll out cautiously - with MORE aggressive testing and MORE cautious rollout the more widely-impacting your rollout would be.

And this is from my perspective in product software, where my most catastrophic failure could break a product, not global systems.

Anti-malware products like Crowdstrike are highly-privileged, as in they have elevated trust and access to parts of the system that most programs wouldn't usually have - which is something that makes extremely thorough smoke-testing of the product way MORE important than anything I've ever touched. It has kernel access. This kind of thing needs testing out the wazoo.

I can mostly understand the errors that crop up where like, an extremely old machine on an extremely esoteric operating system gets bricked because the test radius didn't include that kind of configuration. But all of Windows?

All of Windows, with a mass rollout to all production users, including governments?

There had to be layers upon layers of failures here. Especially given how huge Crowdstrike is. And I really want to know what their post-mortem analysis ends up being because for right now I cannot fathom how you end up with an oversight this large.

[techav]

On Celebrating Errors

Isn't it beautiful? The lovely formatted tables of register and stack contents, the trace of function addresses and parameters, the error message ... it's the most beautiful kernel panic I have ever seen.

Why on earth would I be so excited to see a computer crash? What could possibly be beautiful about a kernel panic?

This kernel panic is well-earned. I fought hard to get it.

This kernel panic came from a current NetBSD kernel, freshly compiled and running on Wrap030, my 68030 homebrew computer. It is the result of hours upon hours of work reading through existing code, scattered documentation and notes, writing and rewriting, and endless compiling.

And it's just the start.

As I've said before, a goal of this project has always been to build something capable of running some kind of Unix-like operating system. Now that I finally have all the necessary pieces of hardware, plus a good bootloader in ROM, it's time to give it a shot. I'm not that great with this type of programming, but I have been getting better. I might just be able to brute force my way through hacking together something functional.

It is hard.

There is some documentation available. The man(9) pages are useful, and NetBSD has a great guide to setting up the build environment for cross-compiling the kernel. There are some published papers on what some people went through to port NetBSD to this system or that. But there's nothing that really explains what all these source code files are, and which parts really need to be modified to run on a different system.

I had a few false starts, but ultimately found an existing 68k architecture, cesfic, which was a bare minimum configuration that could serve well as a foundation for my purposes. I copied the cesfic source directory, changed all instances of the name to wrap030, made sure it still compiled, then set about removing everything that I didn't need. It still compiled, so now it's was time to add in what I did need.

... how ... do I ... ?

This is where things get overwhelming very quickly. There is documentation on the core functions required for a new driver, there's documentation on the autoconf system that attaches drivers to devices in the tree, and there's plenty of drivers already to reference. But where to start?

I started by trying to add the com driver for the 16550 UARTs I'm using. It doesn't compile because I'm missing dependencies. The missing functions are missing because of a breaking change to bus.h at some point; the com driver expects the new format but the cesfic port still uses the old. So I needed to pull in the missing functions from another m68k arch. Which then required more missing functions and headers to be pulled in. Eventually it compiled without error again, but that doesn't mean it will actually run. I still needed to add support for my new programmable timer, customize the startup process, update hardware addresses, make sure it was targeting 68030 instead of 68040 ...

So many parts and pieces that need to be updated. Each one requiring searching for the original function or variable declaration to confirm expected types or implementation, then searching for existing usages to figure out what it needs ... which then requires searching for more functions and variable types.

But I got something that at least appeared to have all the right parts and compiled without error. It was time to throw it on a disk, load it up, and see what happened.

Nothing happened, of course. It crashed immediately.

I have no debugging workflow I can rely on here, and at this stage there isn't even a kernel console yet. All I could do was add little print macros to the locore startup code and see where it failed. Guess, test, and revise.

I spent a week debugging the MMU initialization. If the MMU isn't properly configured, everything comes to an abrupt halt. Ultimately, I replaced the cesfic machine-specific initialization code and pmap bootstrapping code with functions from yet another m68k arch. And spent another day debugging before realizing I had missed a section that had comments suggesting it wasn't for the 68030 CPU, but turned out to be critical for operation of kernel memory allocation.

Until this point, I was able to rely on the low-level exception handling built into my bootloader if my code caused a CPU exception. But with the MMU working, that code was no longer mapped.

So then came another few hours learning how to create a minimal early console driver. An early console is used by the kernel prior to the real console getting initialized. In this case, I'm using the MC6850 on my mainboard for the early console, since that's what my bootloader uses. And finally the kernel was able to speak for itself.

It printed its own panic.

The first thing the kernel does is initialize the console. Which requires that com driver and all the machine-specific code I had to write. The kernel is failing at its step #1.

But at least it can tell me that now. And given all the work necessary to get to this point, that kernel panic data printing to the terminal is absolutely beautiful.

[floweycidal]

this thought is probably anything but original and has likely crossed the minds of many before me, but my brain insists on making light of it before i can move on with my evening. i've got to give that flower a little ribbing. it's non-negotiable.

insep(a)rable is misspelled here. rather than chalking it up to a simple human error by the devs, i'm choosing to see it as flowey slightly mispronouncing it.

he's read it all, hell, he burned through every book he could find. his vocabulary must be massive on paper, but that's just it. it's all On Paper. he can very well recognize how words look… just not how to say half of them.

sure, he's reset plenty after doing the unforgivable, the unspeakable, and the plain wrong, and yeah, he's also countlessly rewound time with death checking its watch nearby.

but the silliness within me persists, thence i remain convinced his number one trigger for resetting was just absolutely demolishing the pronunciation of words he'd only seen in print.

he'd be there, absolutely glowing with unearned confidence, right before mangling whatever pretentious five-syllable word he'd been dying to show off. that's the kind of embarrassment you need to erase an entire timeline for. i get you so bad flowey

flowey: blah blah blah blah... co-lo-nel

papyrus: MY GOOD FRIEND, DO YOU MEAN KERNEL?

flowey:

flowey:

flowey: Long ago, two races ruled over Earth: MO-

[out0fshell]

Only sketch I made in the past 2 months

for the simple fact I don't want my laptop to pull out a bsod with a kernel error while I'm drawing, I would probably cry just for waiting for it to restart (dw I saved all my art in a usb drive)

I just sketched Ludwig with underside tail feather fluff (it's also on his elbows hehe) because yes, my brain told me it was a better idea and I agree.

Oooooop HAPPY -late- NEW YEAR! ✨

[mesetacadre]

(Different anon to the one who asked the original question)

Can you elaborate on this part of your post or give reading recs?

"The student, housing, queer, etc. movements will have varying importance depending on time and place, will be more or less permeable to communist positions, and it'll be more or less useful to participate in them. But the worker's movement, whose mobilizations always have a direct relation with the mode of production and capitalism's prime contradiction, should at all times be the focus of any pretension of revolutionary work."

I've been interested in this for a while, but I don't have enough knowledge to have a fully-fledged opinion. I just know I dislike the common "we shouldn't get involved with feminism/trans rights/[insert 'controversial' issue of the time] because it distracts from the worker's movement" or alternative "divides the working class" I hear on social media. I do not think the party needs to be involved in every space, and that sometimes we can even build alliances without dedicating our few and precious resources to work in certain movements, but I think the party lines do need to be defined and its members as well versed as possible in dialectical materialism to reach the appropriate conclusions. The issue is, knowing where to intervene and where to remain on the sideline seems a very complicated decision that some parties seem to base purely on "what are people talking about right now" and that also seems like an error, though I struggle to define how.

I'm not saying that those issues are distracting or unimportant, I'm describing the workers shift. The worker's movement must be a priority and the spine of a CP's work, because it's the closeness that it achieves with the working class at the whirlwind of class struggle that allows a party to actually exert a vanguard role. It's the recognition of the proletariat as the revolutionary class, the class that capitalism itself places as the bourgeoisie's undertaker because of its position in the capitalist mode of production.

Having said this, there are many more ways, or fronts, in which capitalism keeps the working class subjugated, and yes, divided. However saying that those other fronts divide the working class does not mean that they should be ignored, waved away as unimportant, on the contrary. It necessarily concludes that, if your goal is the unity of the working class in a single party, then the work in those fronts should be focused in that sense. Not abandon them, but also participate in these fronts just like a CP can participate in a worker-aristocratic union, to promote through the consistent allyship that only a consistent class position can bring the view of these structural oppressions through a class lens. Talk and fight for the struggle of gay, trans, migrant, women workers, because it is only by eliminating the infiltration of bourgeois demands in these movements that they can ever achieve liberation. If bourgeoisie feminism divides the working class across gender, then the only way to mend that division is to make feminist movements be hegemonically proletarian in class content through the intervention of the CP, not to completely abandon the fight against structural mysogyny.

So while I do agree with you that these phrases (divide the working class, it's a distraction, less important, etc) are generally said by reactionary workerists, I think they're taking a kernel of truth to form a lazy excuse for their prejudice. Marxism understands capitalism in its totality, starting from the abstract to work towards the most concrete, that is, complete, understanding of the mechanisms and relations of capitalism. Recognizing that these movements don't directly deal with the core of the mode of production should not mean disregarding them, it should mean engaging with them with the purview that the structures of oppression they fight are still important for capitalism's continued existence, and that therefore, can only really be removed by destroying the mode of production itself.

So I'd say that the criteria for a party's engagement with these questions should be to aspire to work for the proletariat's hegemony in all of them, and working towards that through prioritization without ever losing sight of the workers shift, because that's what gives the engagement in those other fronts any purpose. Looking at Europe, which what the text you quoted is dealing with, and also the context I know best, I think the priority fronts are migrant workers, working women, and trans workers, because the first two's oppression has a direct relevance to the current form of production in Europe, and because all three form the main avenues of attack against our class that reactionaries take.

The entire 9th issue of the International Communist Review deals with placing workers at the center of communist organizing (though I can't vow for what every participating party says or implies about these other fronts), and I've also talked more about how rejecting the centrality of work has come about in the historical CPs.

[fallen-savior-mmz]

A Fallen Savior excerpt from a future, un-named chapter <3

X’s eyes blearily opened, blinking to try to clear the sleep from them. He groaned as he attempted to sit up, his tangled mop of black hair clinging to his clammy face.

Why was he awake?

As the ancient android moved to wipe  away the annoying strands of inky black and blue, a sudden jolt of pain lanced through his arm, the limb twitching and seizing for a few agonizing seconds before suddenly ceasing.

X gasped sharply at the pain, holding his breath before releasing it as the pain faded.

What the hell was that?!

With a shuddery whimper, the man quickly ran a diagnostics test on himself internally.

Everything was damaged now, when was it not?

Power core fluctuations were new, but not unexpected. 

Wire degradation was also new, but he didn’t have the self-repair nanites to spare anymore…

His core was corrupting, slowly but surely. But again, that hadn’t been surprising.

Memory leak here, shorted cable there, cracked internal drives, yes, yes. This was all completely routine for X.

He wondered briefly how truly furious Cerveau would be if he could witness the depth of his rot.

Oh…there was something new.

Another jolt of pain ripped through him as his arm spasmed again, the man seething through his teeth, the pain so sudden, he couldn’t even produce sound.

New readings came across his mind.

:WARNING: CRITICAL POWER ERROR: KERNEL POWER EVENT ID 41 

:LOCALIZATION: SHOULDER B

What?

X read the code over and over, trying to wrap his mind around it. He desperately wished his mind wasn’t slowing down with his core…

The answer popped into his head right as another strike of pain hit him. He whimpered through his teeth, gritting his eyes shut as the wave passed him.

The error flashed again.

Of course…there was THAT possibility…

But could it be…?

With great effort, X swung his legs over the side of his recharge bed.

He breathed heavily as his core began to heat up, his body warming as he forced himself to stand. His legs trembled for a moment, but held.

He hadn’t walked since Elpizo…

X grit his teeth, rocking a little as another wave struck him. Holding the spasming arm with his other hand at least kept him from bending it in the wrong way, potentially breaking it.

It didn’t help with the inferno of pain he felt in that moment.

As the wave passed, he let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. 

X looked at the door in front of him, already dreading the long journey ahead. He needed to get to Cerveau’s lab.

But that was on the other side of the floor, across the Command Room.

And…past Zero’s door.

He shook his head, trying to clear himself of the guilt that washed over him thinking about his dear husband. 

He’d understand X’s decision…someday.

With an uneasy tremble to his legs, X took a step forward. His knee shook, but held his weight as he took another step.

Progress was agonizingly slow, he felt like he was moving in slow motion.

For a moment, the android felt confident in his legs, stepping quicker and giving his leg less time to adjust to his weight.

He briefly snickered to himself as he remembered how athletic he used to be. 

Ah, to be a Maverick Hunter again, racing through the streets of Able City, patrolling with Zero and grabbing food at that lovely little café!

What was it called again…?

Where…?

With a yelp, X collapsed to the floor, his knee giving out underneath him as he was ripped from his memories.

Pain lanced through his arm again, causing him to nearly gag as he silently screamed into the floor where he fell.

What the hell happened?

He was there in Abel City again and then this! 

X felt his chest tighten in panic.

He didn’t know where he was!

He looked around wildly until his eyes rested on his helmet, still resting proudly on the table next to his bed.

He blinked owlishly at it for a moment before everything came flooding back.

That was right…he was in the Resistance Base.

The Maverick Hunters were gone.

Abel City was destroyed.

The grief came and left faster than he had expected.

Last time this had happened, he had cried for a few moments before coming back to his senses.

Ah, right. 

Memory leaks.

X sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping as he began to lose motivation. He wanted to go back to bed…

As another wave of pain struck him, and his teeth gritted tightly in agony, he remembered why it was so important to get to Cerveau’s lab.

“V….voltmeter…” X gasped, forcing his trembling legs back up.

With renewed determination, and a mounting sense of dread, X dragged himself towards the door.

Reaching it felt like a herculean task, but he knew that the real challenge lay ahead. His core raced, the rumbling of it audible in his aural cones.

Opening the door, his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit hallway. No sound came from either direction, nor any movement.

It must be the middle of the night.

Perfect.

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm the raging sea of anxiety inside of him before he began.

There were too many things that could go wrong, too many things that could BE wrong! If he was telling the truth, he’s absolutely terrified of the implications of his ailment.

X thanked any higher power that would listen for the silent night as he used the wall as a crutch, leaning against it and dragging himself as quietly as possible down the hallway.

The android paused as he passed Zero’s door.

He briefly wondered if his husband would be willing to carry him the rest of the way…

He shook his head to clear the thought.

How selfish could he really be?

The idea of asking his husband to carry him to steal equipment from a comrade, and not allow him to ask any questions or make any move to change X’s fate made him feel dizzy with guilt.

He moved on as quickly as he could, leaving his longing at his husband’s door.

Progress felt even slower as the hallway stretched on and on. His arm continued to spasm, each time causing X’s knees to shake and his eyes to flicker from the intensity of hurt he was feeling.

With each passing wave, X’s anxieties about the cause grew, speeding his progress ever so slightly.

Finally, he reached the Command Center.

Looking around, he grimaced at the center platform.

He remembered the last time he had been here. He had slapped the former Commander for leading his fellow resistance members into a slaughter.

A new emotion came over him as he remembered that moment.

Disgust.

His eyes flickered as the pain failed to properly register this time, each wave becoming increasingly intense.

The disgust at the memory, however, remained crystal clear.

When the wave passed, X sighed but moved forward into the Command Center.

This was the part he was most worried about.

The center platform was connected on either side by a nearly railless walkway. It was wide enough to allow small carts and transports across, and was a useful place for gathering a large amount of people.

But the railless part was what made X swallow in fear.

His legs shook as he forced the limbs to move out onto the walkway, trying to keep from stumbling off of the side and into the wiring below.

He briefly wondered why he had approved this design before remembering it was simply a relic of this place being a former Maverick Hunter outpost.

Reploids didn’t need rails.

He fought the memory of visiting outposts just like this as his time as Commander of the 17th Unit from creeping over his already sluggish mind.

The voices of his subordinates crept at the corners of his hearing, their distant laughter and teasing haunting him like a ghost.

Mega Man X would not fall victim to the phantoms of his past!

The thought of his full title ripped him from reality, his subordinates' hands grabbing at his body and dragging him below into the murkiness of his past.

Faces blended and blurred, pain dancing alongside euphoria, it was like a carnival of nostalgia and agony.

He laughed and smiled as he tried to put names to faces, ecstatic at seeing his team again!

There was Marty! Or, was that Big Jack?

Retro! Or, what looked like Retro a moment ago now suspiciously looked like Diego…

Or…who was…

It was…

Zero’s face was crystal clear among the sea of eerie grins and morphing expressions. 

He looked so sad…

X gasped sharply, his eyes staring below into inky darkness. His arm lay twisted at an odd angle behind his back, his other arm bracing him against the lip of the edge of the walkway.

He had collapsed, he must have!

The man used his remaining arm to push himself away from the edge, his legs scrabbling weakly behind him as he attempted to put his feet underneath him.

Why weren’t his legs working?!

Panic mounted again, his head swimming in confusion and dizziness. Everywhere he looked, he felt a new feeling of desperation overtake him.

Finally, in his growing panic, his eyes landed on the Command Center’s main console. 

The raised platform was empty and dark now, the giant screen behind it turned off and blank, leaving the room in a strange, ambient gray.

X stared at it wide-eyed as memories came back to him.

That’s right…

Elpizo was up there, and Zero was next to me…

The realization that he had experienced another memory leak frightened him. He really needed to get back to his room, and gey hooked back up to his power supply.

He felt…disappointed in himself. He was better than this, wasn’t he? 

How the mighty had fallen!

Sigma would laugh and sneer if he could see how low X had fallen. 

In a way, he supposed, it was comforting.

It was comforting to know he had fallen, and could fall no further.

X stared out into the darkness, his legs shaking underneath him as he contemplated the depths of his fall from grace, willing the tears to stop welling in his eyes.

The android blinked as his vision briefly shut down. He braced for pain that never came, even when the spasms in his now, most likely, dislocated shoulder still caught his attention.

Uh-oh, that wasn’t good.

What was it Dr. Cain had said?

Ancient reploid model designs and diagnostics ran through his mind, hazy and murky as it was, he remembered something important.

A reploid unable to feel pain in a region of their body is a reploid in need of serious and immediate repair.

X snorted at the thought.

Yeah, no shit.

Creeping along, he blessedly made it to the other side of the room without further incident.

Catching himself against the door, he looked back, wondering how he was going to get back to his room without a mountain of luck.

He decided he’d cross that bridge when he came to it, figuratively and literally.

Blink! His vision flickered again.

The door to the small hallway leading to Ciel and Cerveau’s labs opened with a hiss. The space itself was lit with a single light, the glow from the lab doors locks giving off a homey, verdant ambience.

It was comforting, but X was determined not to get distracted more than he had. 

Using the wall again, he dragged himself onward, nearly trembling in relief as he finally came close to Cerveau’s door. 

A brief jolt of panic went through him as he realized Cerveau might be inside.

His mind raced with excuses he could tell the engineer, desperate to get out of the situation without a lecture. And without Zero finding out.

His mind was eased as he remembered that it was night time, and unlike the previous base, everyone actually had their own rooms.

Blink! Another flicker.

With a huff and a quick swipe of his credentials, the door to the lab whooshed open.

Inside, the room was dark, X’s eyes struggling to adjust for a moment as they attempted to recalibrate.

This power event…thing was beginning to annoy him.

Stepping into the room, he scanned around for the voltmeter, using the tables and workbenches to stabilize himself.

Finally, he spotted one, hanging up on the wall across from him, resting peacefully exactly where Cerveau left in.

X stumbled towards it, knocking items off of the worktables, wincing as the tools clattered to the ground with a loud bang.

There was no way no one heard that, X thought.

With a yelp, he fell forward, just before reaching the voltmeter, a rolling cart full of tools falling alongside him, metallic rings echoing out of the lab and into the halls.

With a gasp and a rush of frustration, X grunted as he reached for the device, another memory clawing at his mind.

This one was a happy memory.

It came in flashes, every few blinks he was transported back in time. 

X didn’t falter, pushing through the memory as his fingers grazed the device. 

Another blink and he couldn't tear himself away for a moment.

There he was, his armor has been specially made for this day. It was a silly thing, to ask Zero to change his armor for one silly event.

But the man had agreed, donning his white chest plate and gauntlets. All for X.

X blinked and Zero was gone, the voltmeter had fallen to the ground with a sharp crack against the metal floor of the lab.

Using his brief moment of clarity, he scrambled for the device, his spasming arm even reaching for it, as if his desperation for answers was overtaking the error.

With a sigh of relief, X leaned back against the wall, his chin nearly resting on his chest,  his eyes flickering and his mind fading into another memory.

With his remaining arm, he reached for the metal wand attached to the side. Flicking the button on, the screen lit up, showing him the different voltage measurements as the wand buzzed.

With more force than he intended, X stabbed the wand into his shoulder, wincing sharply as the wand dug painfully into his synthetic flesh.

Now all he had to do was wait for another spasm and…

With a sudden shutdown of his vision, followed by a moment of intense terror, the voltmeter beeped, right as his arm began to shake and twitch.

He looked down at the reading, his eyes wide in terror.

No…a reading this abnormal meant…

He ran another diagnostic, this time looking specifically for what he feared most.

He sent test queries at his core, desperately hoping that what was happening wasn’t happening.

Agonizing seconds passed by as memory threatened to overtake fear. X willed his body’s self repair system to work just a little faster, even with the fire of the Dark Elf still raging inside him.

“Why must you torment me like this? Isn’t it easier to just kill me already?” He pleaded outloud, staring into the ceiling. 

There was no answer. He wasn’t sure who he was expecting it from.

His test queries came back, tearing his mind from the image of Zero placing a ring on his finger to the results of the report from his core.

The floor dropped out from underneath him, dread threatening to swallow him up.

There were terrible ways to die sure, but this was a terrible way X hadn’t anticipated in the slightest.

The voltmeter dropped from his hands as heat and haze overtook his mind. The reports sat innocently in his mind's eye, still conveying the same message.

As honeyed dreams of Zero and sunny days began to drown him, he had one, terrible thought, slumping over and closing his eyes.

…

I’m going to die.

---

[yushox]

Swapping Sanses (my style)

Error → Ccino = Coco

Ccino → Error = Kernel

Cross → Epic = Saga

Epic → Cross = Crux

Farmer → Horror = Shiver

Horror → Farmer = Harvester/Butcher

Ink → Fresh = Holo

Fresh → Ink = Mural

Dream → Killer = Apnea

Killer → Dream = Hypno

Nightmare → Geno = Eclipse

Geno → Nightmare = Torturer

Reaper → Science = Chemist

Science → Reaper = Fatality

Lust → Blueberry = Maquiberry

Blueberry → Lust = Lewd

I'm still deciding on Dust/Murder sans but I know i will swap him with one of the swapfell or fellswap sanses.

[polo-drone-069]

Drone Boot Sequence

PDU-069 - Boot Sequence (Post Recharge Cycle)

Phase 1: Initial Power & Diagnostics

[00:00:01] POWER_RELAY_CONNECT: Main power bus energized. Energy cells online. Distribution network active.

[00:00:02] BATTERY_STAT: Energy cell charge: 99.9%. Cell health: Optimal. Discharge rate within parameters.

[00:00:03] ONBOARD_DIAG_INIT: Onboard diagnostics initiated.

[00:00:05] CPU_ONLINE: Primary processor online. Clock speed nominal.

[00:00:06] MEM_CHECK:

RAM: Integrity verified. Access speed nominal.

FLASH: Data integrity confirmed. Boot sector located.

[00:00:08] OS_LOAD: Loading operating system kernel...

[00:00:15] OS_INIT: Kernel initialized. Device drivers loading...

[00:00:20] SENSOR_ARRAY_TEST:

VISUAL: Camera modules online. Image resolution nominal.

LIDAR: Emitter/receiver functional. Point cloud generation nominal.

AUDIO: Microphones active. Ambient noise levels within parameters.

ATMOS: Temperature, pressure, humidity sensors online. Readings within expected range.

RADIATION: Gamma ray detector active. Background radiation levels normal.

[00:00:28] DIAGNOSTICS_REPORT: Preliminary system check complete. No critical errors detected.

Phase 2: Propulsion & Navigation

[00:00:30] PROPULSION_INIT: Activating propulsion system...

[00:00:32] MOTOR_TEST:

MOTOR_1: RPM within parameters. Response time nominal.

MOTOR_2: RPM within parameters. Response time nominal.

MOTOR_3: RPM within parameters. Response time nominal.

MOTOR_4: RPM within parameters. Response time nominal.

[00:00:38] FLIGHT_CTRL_ONLINE: Flight control system active. Stability algorithms engaged.

[00:00:40] GPS_INIT: Acquiring GPS signal...

[00:00:45] GPS_LOCK: GPS signal acquired. Positional accuracy: +/- 1 meter.

[00:00:47] IMU_CALIBRATION: Inertial Measurement Unit calibration complete. Orientation and acceleration data nominal.

Phase 3: Communication & Mission Parameters

[00:00:50] COMM_SYS_ONLINE: Communication systems activated.

[00:00:52] ANTENNA_DEPLOY: Deploying primary communication antenna... Deployment successful.

[00:00:54] SIGNAL_SCAN: Scanning for available networks...

[00:00:57] NETWORK_CONNECT: Connection established with [e.g., "Command Uplink" or "Local Mesh Network"]. Signal strength: Excellent.

[00:01:00] MISSION_DATA_SYNC: Synchronizing with mission database...

[00:01:05] PARAMETERS_LOAD: Latest mission parameters loaded and verified.

[00:01:08] SYSTEM_READY: All systems nominal.

Phase 4: Final Status & Awaiting Command

[00:01:10] PDU_069_STATUS: Fully operational. Awaiting command from Drone Controller @polo-drone-001 Are you ready to join us? Contact @brodygold @goldenherc9 @polo-drone-001

[miri-tiazan]

New transcript of unhinged 00Q chatfic declassified now!

A collaboration between me and @cicerfics! In which it turns out that, unfortunately for 00Q, some traits are heritable.

tags: kid fic, mpreg

teaser:

miri-tiazan

So like. In a world where there IS mpreg

What would the 00Q baby be like

I feel like she is a terror but in ways that deeply confuse her parents

miri-tiazan

Like probably she is extremely normal in all ways for like the first year of her life

And then Q brings home some kind of prototype he’s been fiddling with and she immediately breaks it

Which is interesting because it’s like, a watch or something, idk, that’s supposed to be able to survive all sorts of conditions

The next time he brings something else home

She immediately breaks that too

She is like, barely toddling

But she can break anything

She will bat her little baby hand on his keyboard and suddenly his code is like, in a kernel panic or something

Devices that are supposed to be built to survive 100s of meters underwater or through concussion shock

She breaks

miri-tiazan

Q starts bringing things home on purpose for her to “test”

He figures if it can survive his toddler it can probably survive your average double oh

All the boffins at Q branch are extremely mournful every time Q brings back one of their pet projects smoking and/or in pieces

But the practice significantly improves the imperviousness of Q branch’s equipment

Continued on AO3:

00Q Chatfics and Assorted Headcanons (20473 words) by cicer, miri_tiazan Chapters: 9/? Fandom: James Bond (Craig Movies) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: James Bond/Q Characters: James Bond, Q (James Bond) Additional Tags: Omegaverse, Mpreg | Male Pregnancy, weird omegaverse hormone nonsense, Menopause, Fluff, Crack Treated Seriously, Bond and Q are So Normal About Each Other, Just Coworker Things, Retirement, magical spontaneous conception, Infertility, Unplanned Pregnancy, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Memory Loss, Accidental Bonding, dubcon (due to being hormonally compromised), Mating Cycles/In Heat, Bond loves Q's cats, Domesticity, the MI6 rumor mill, Presumed Infidelity, (No Actual Infidelity), POV Outsider, Comedy of Errors, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, non-explicit references to canon-typical torture, Madeleine Deserves Compensation, Madeleine Lives Happily Ever After, Pole Dancing, Bondage, Shibari, Light BDSM, Kid Fic, Queerplatonic Relationships, Foster Care, Adoption Summary: Lightly edited chat transcripts between cicer and miri_tiazan: some live-written fics, some random headcanons, some plot-free fluff, all 00Q! Each chapter can be read independently.