#mobile brick making machine

[snpcmachine]

Business Seminar by SnPC Machines

SnPC Machines: Factory of bricks on wheel

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[claybrickmachine]

Best quality brick making machine under budget!

Snpc Clay brick making machine India

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[bessmachineen]

https://vessmachine.com/blog/284-mobile-block-making-machine-vess-compact-12-1.html

[block-machinery]

Revolutionizing Construction: The Power of Diesel Brick Making Machines and Mobile Block Making Machines

The construction industry is evolving, and the adoption of innovative technologies like Diesel Brick Making Machines and Mobile Block Making Machines is paving the way for progress. Whether you prioritize high production capacity or on-the-go flexibility, these machines offer solutions that align with the demands of modern construction.

[raytonblockmachinery]

With Hydraform's Soil Diesel Brick Machine and build a sustainable future. It produces environmentally friendly bricks by harnessing the power of cement, dirt, and fuel. Reduce environmental impact while producing bricks that are effective, robust, and adaptable. With Hydraform's Soil Diesel Brick Machine, embrace sustainability, make a positive impact on the environment, and create the foundation for a brighter future. Visit us for more details.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The largest campaign finance violation in US history

I'm coming to DEFCON! On Aug 9, I'm emceeing the EFF POKER TOURNAMENT (noon at the Horseshoe Poker Room), and appearing on the BRICKED AND ABANDONED panel (5PM, LVCC - L1 - HW1–11–01). On Aug 10, I'm giving a keynote called "DISENSHITTIFY OR DIE! How hackers can seize the means of computation and build a new, good internet that is hardened against our asshole bosses' insatiable horniness for enshittification" (noon, LVCC - L1 - HW1–11–01).

Earlier this month, some of the richest men in Silicon Valley, led by Marc Andreesen and Ben Horowitz (the billionaire VCs behind Andreesen-Horowitz) announced that they would be backing Trump with endorsements and millions of dollars:

https://www.forbes.com/sites/dereksaul/2024/07/16/trump-lands-more-big-tech-backers-billionaire-venture-capitalist-andreessen-joins-wave-supporting-former-president/

Predictably, this drew a lot of ire, which Andreesen tried to diffuse by insisting that his support "doesn’t have anything to do with the big issues that people care about":

https://www.theverge.com/2024/7/24/24204706/marc-andreessen-ben-horowitz-a16z-trump-donations

In other words, the billionaires backing Trump weren't doing so because they supported the racism, the national abortion ban, the attacks on core human rights, etc. Those were merely tradeoffs that they were willing to make to get the parts of the Trump program they do support: more tax-cuts for the ultra-rich, and, of course, free rein to defraud normies with cryptocurrency Ponzi schemes.

Crypto isn't "money" – it is far too volatile to be a store of value, a unit of account, or a medium of exchange. You'd have to be nuts to get a crypto mortgage when all it takes is Elon Musk tweeting a couple emoji to make your monthly mortgage payment double.

A thing becomes moneylike when it can be used to pay off a bill for something you either must pay for, or strongly desire to pay for. The US dollar's moneylike property comes from the fact that hundreds of millions of people need dollars to pay off the IRS and their state tax bills, which means that they will trade labor and goods for dollars. Even people who don't pay US taxes will accept dollars, because they know they can use them to buy things from people who do have a nondiscretionary bill that can only be paid in dollars.

Dollars are also valuable because there are many important commodities that can only – or primarily – be purchased with them, like much of the world's oil supply. The fact that anyone who wants to buy oil has a strong need for dollars makes dollars valuable, because they will sell labor and goods to get dollars, not because they need dollars, but because they need oil.

There's almost nothing that can only be purchased with crypto. You can procure illegal goods and services in the mistaken belief that this transaction will be durably anonymous, and you can pay off ransomware creeps who have hijacked your personal files or all of your business's data:

https://locusmag.com/2022/09/cory-doctorow-moneylike/

Web3 was sold as a way to make the web more "decentralized," but it's best understood as an effort to make it impossible to use the web without paying crypto every time you click your mouse. If people need crypto to use the internet, then crypto whales will finally have a source of durable liquidity for the tokens they've hoarded:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/09/16/nondiscretionary-liabilities/#quatloos

The Web3 bubble was almost entirely down to the vast hype machine mobilized by Andreesen-Horowitz, who bet billions of dollars on the idea and almost single-handedly created the illusion of demand for crypto. For example, they arranged a $100m bribe to Kickstarter shareholders in exchange for Kickstarter pretending to integrate "blockchain" into its crowdfunding platform:

https://finance.yahoo.com/news/untold-story-kickstarter-crypto-hail-120000205.html

Kickstarter never ended up using the blockchain technology, because it was useless. Their shareholders just pocketed the $100m while the company weathered the waves of scorn from savvy tech users who understood that this was all a shuck.

Look hard enough at any crypto "success" and you'll discover a comparable scam. Remember NFTs, and the eye-popping sums that seemingly "everyone" was willing to pay for ugly JPEGs? That whole market was shot through with "wash-trading" – where you sell your asset to yourself and pretend that it was bought by a third party. It's a cheap – and illegal – way to convince people that something worthless is actually very valuable:

https://mailchi.mp/brianlivingston.com/034-2#free1

Even the books about crypto are scams. Chris Dixon's "bestseller" about the power of crypto, Read Write Own, got on the bestseller list through the publishing equivalent of wash-trading, where VCs with large investments in crypto bought up thousands of copies and shoved them on indifferent employees or just warehoused them:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/15/your-new-first-name/#that-dagger-tho

The fact that crypto trades were mostly the same bunch of grifters buying shitcoins from each other, while spending big on Superbowl ads, bribes to Kickstarter shareholders, and bulk-buys of mediocre business-books was bound to come out someday. In the meantime, though, the system worked: it convinced normies to gamble their life's savings on crypto, which they promptly lost (if you can't spot the sucker at the table, you're the sucker).

There's a name for this: it's called a "bezzle." John Kenneth Galbraith defined a "bezzle" as "the magic interval when a confidence trickster knows he has the money he has appropriated but the victim does not yet understand that he has lost it." All bezzles collapse eventually, but until they do, everyone feels better off. You think you're rich because you just bought a bunch of shitcoins after Matt Damon told you that "fortune favors the brave." Damon feels rich because he got a ton of cash to rope you into the con. Crypto.com feels rich because you took a bunch of your perfectly cromulent "fiat money" that can be used to buy anything and traded it in for shitcoins that can be used to buy nothing:

https://theintercept.com/2022/10/26/matt-damon-crypto-commercial/

Andreesen-Horowitz were masters of the bezzle. For them, the Web3 bet on an internet that you'd have to buy their shitcoins to use was always Plan B. Plan A was much more straightforward: they would back crypto companies and take part of their equity in huge quantities of shitcoins that they could sell to "unqualified investors" (normies) in an "initial coin offering." Normally, this would be illegal: a company can't offer stock to the general public until it's been through an SEC vetting process and "gone public" through an IPO. But (Andreesen-Horowitz argued) their companies' "initial coin offerings" existed in an unregulated grey zone where they could be traded for the life's savings of mom-and-pop investors who thought crypto was real because they heard that Kickstarter had adopted it, and there was a bestselling book about it, and Larry David and Matt Damon and Spike Lee told them it was the next big thing.

Crypto isn't so much a financial innovation as it is a financial obfuscation. "Fintech" is just a cynical synonym for "unregulated bank." Cryptocurrency enjoys a "byzantine premium" – that is, it's so larded with baffling technical nonsense that no one understands how it works, and they assume that anything they don't understand is probably incredibly sophisticated and great ("a pile of shit this big must have pony under it somewhere"):

https://pluralistic.net/2022/03/13/the-byzantine-premium/

There are two threats to the crypto bezzle: the first is that normies will wise up to the scam, and the second is that the government will put a stop to it. These are correlated risks: if the government treats crypto as a security (or worse, a scam), that will put severe limits on how shitcoins can be marketed to normies, which will staunch the influx of real money, so the sole liquidity will come from ransomware payments and transactions with tragically overconfident hitmen and drug dealers who think the blockchain is anonymous.

To keep the bezzle going, crypto scammers have spent the past two election cycles flooding both parties with cash. In the 2022 midterms, crypto money bankrolled primary challenges to Democrats by absolute cranks, like the "effective altruist" Carrick Flynn ("effective altruism" is a crypto-affiliated cult closely associated with the infamous scam-artist Sam Bankman-Fried). Sam Bankman-Fried's super PAC, "Protect Our Future," spent $10m on attack-ads against Flynn's primary opponent, the incumbent Andrea Salinas. Salinas trounced Flynn – who was an objectively very bad candidate who stood no chance of winning the general election – but only at the expense of most of the funds she raised from her grassroots, small-dollar donors.

Fighting off SBF's joke candidate meant that Salinas went into the general election with nearly empty coffers, and she barely squeaked out a win against a GOP nightmare candidate Mike Erickson – a millionaire Oxy trafficker, drunk driver, and philanderer who tricked his then-girlfriend by driving her to a fake abortion clinic and telling her that it was a real one:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/14/competitors-critics-customers/#billionaire-dilletantes

SBF is in prison, but there's no shortage of crypto millions for this election cycle. According to Molly White's "Follow the Crypto" tracker, crypto-affiliated PACs have raised $185m to influence the 2024 election – more than the entire energy sector:

https://www.followthecrypto.org/

As with everything "crypto," the cryptocurrency election corruption slushfund is a bezzle. The "Stand With Crypto PAC" claims to have the backing of 1.3 million "crypto advocates," and Reuters claims they have 440,000 backers. But 99% of the money claimed by Stand With Crypto was actually donated to "Fairshake" – a different PAC – and 90% of Fairshake's money comes from a handful of corporate donors:

https://www.citationneeded.news/issue-62/

Stand With Crypto – minus the Fairshake money it falsely claimed – has raised $13,690 since April. That money came from just seven donors, four of whom are employed by Coinbase, for whom Stand With Crypto is a stalking horse. Stand With Crypto has an affiliated group (also called "Stand With Crypto" because that is an extremely normal and forthright way to run a nonprofit!), which has raised millions – $1.49m. Of that $1.49m, 90% came from just four donors: three cryptocurrency companies, and the CEO of Coinbase.

There are plenty of crypto dollars for politicians to fight over, but there are virtually no crypto voters. 69-75% of Americans "view crypto negatively or distrust it":

https://www.pewresearch.org/short-reads/2023/04/10/majority-of-americans-arent-confident-in-the-safety-and-reliability-of-cryptocurrency/

When Trump keynotes the Bitcoin 2024 conference and promises to use public funds to buy $1b worth of cryptocoins, he isn't wooing voters, he's wooing dollars:

https://www.wired.com/story/donald-trump-strategic-bitcoin-stockpile-bitcoin-2024/

Wooing dollars, not crypto. Politicians aren't raising funds in crypto, because you can't buy ads or pay campaign staff with shitcoins. Remember: unless Andreesen-Horowitz manages to install Web3 crypto tollbooths all over the internet, the industries that accept crypto are ransomware, and technologically overconfident hit-men and drug-dealers. To win elections, you need dollars, which crypto hustlers get by convincing normies to give them real money in exchange for shitcoins, and they are only funding politicians who will make it easier to do that.

As a political matter, "crypto" is a shorthand for "allowing scammers to steal from working people," which makes it a very Republican issue. As Hamilton Nolan writes, "If the Republicans want to position themselves as the Party of Crypto, let them. It is similar to how they position themselves as The Party of Racism and the Party of Religious Zealots and the Party of Telling Lies about Election Fraud. These things actually reflect poorly on them, the Republicans":

https://www.hamiltonnolan.com/p/crypto-as-a-political-characteristic

But the Democrats – who are riding high on the news that Kamala Harris will be their candidate this fall – have decided that they want some of that crypto money, too. Even as crypto-skeptical Dems like Jamaal Bowman, Cori Bush, Sherrod Brown and Jon Tester see millions from crypto PACs flooding in to support their primary challengers and GOP opponents, a group of Dem politicians are promising to give the crypto industry whatever it wants, if they will only bribe Democratic candidates as well:

https://subscriber.politicopro.com/f/?id=00000190-f475-d94b-a79f-fc77c9400000

Kamala Harris – a genuinely popular candidate who has raised record-shattering sums from small-dollar donors representing millions of Americans – herself has called for a "reset" of the relationship between the crypto sector and the Dems:

https://archive.is/iYd1C

As Luke Goldstein writes in The American Prospect, sucking up to crypto scammers so they stop giving your opponents millions of dollars to run attack ads against you is a strategy with no end – you have to keep sucking up to the scam, otherwise the attack ads come out:

https://prospect.org/politics/2024-07-31-crypto-cash-affecting-democratic-races/

There's a whole menagerie of crypto billionaires behind this year's attempt to buy the American government – Andreesen and Horowitz, of course, but also the Winklevoss twins, and this guy, who says we're in the midst of a "civil war" and "anyone that votes against Trump can die in a fucking fire":

https://twitter.com/molly0xFFF/status/1813952816840597712/photo/1

But the real whale that's backstopping the crypto campaign spending is Coinbase, through its Fairshake crypto PAC. Coinbase has donated $45,500,000 to Fairshake, which is a lot:

https://www.coinbase.com/blog/how-to-get-regulatory-clarity-for-crypto

But $45.5m isn't merely a large campaign contribution: it appears that $25m of that is the largest the largest illegal campaign contribution by a federal contractor in history, "by far," a fact that was sleuthed out by Molly White:

https://www.citationneeded.news/coinbase-campaign-finance-violation/

At issue is the fact that Coinbase is bidding to be a US federal contractor: specifically, they want to manage the crypto wallets that US federal cops keep seizing from crime kingpins. Once Coinbase threw its hat into the federal contracting ring, it disqualified itself from donating to politicians or funding PACs:

Campaign finance law prohibits federal government contractors from making contributions, or promising to make contributions, to political entities including super PACs like Fairshake.

https://www.fec.gov/help-candidates-and-committees/federal-government-contractors/

Previous to this, the largest ever illegal campaign contribution by a federal contractor appears to be Marathon Petroleum Company's 2022 bribe to GOP House and Senate super PACs, a mere $1m, only 4% of Coinbase's bribe.

I'm with Nolan on this one. Let the GOP chase millions from billionaires everyone hates who expect them to promote a scam that everyone mistrusts. The Dems have finally found a candidate that people are excited about, and they're awash in money thanks to small amounts contributed by everyday Americans. As AOC put it:

They've got money, but we've got people. Dollar bills don't vote. People vote.

https://www.popsugar.com/news/alexandria-ocasio-cortez-dnc-headquarters-climate-speech-47986992

Support me this summer on the Clarion Write-A-Thon and help raise money for the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Workshop!

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

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/31/greater-fools/#coinbased

[bradshawssugarbaby]

High On Lovin' You - Bob Floyd x Reader

a/n: this is an entirely self-indulgent fic inspired by a dream I had the other day, not beta read and may have some errors? I tried y'all. also inspired by h.o.l.y. by florida georgia line

pairing: bob floyd x wife! reader

warnings/content: bob as a dad, mentions of pregnancy, breeding kink, p in v, creampie, smut, fingering.

word count: 2.1k

The Californian breeze was warm and refreshing as it blew in off the coast of Coronado, brushing against your skin. You followed Bob up the brick-laden steps of Rooster’s seaside home, your daughter, Sunday, balancing on Bob’s hip as he jogged up the steps. You couldn’t help but admire the way he managed to make something as mundane as running up a couple of steps holding a baby effortlessly attractive.

His sandy coloured hair had been brushed back slightly, a change from his normal, military-approved style, and his wire framed glasses had been replaced with a pair of prescription aviator sunglasses. His baby blue polo shirt hugged his figure, accentuating his toned chest, his biceps flexing against the sleeve of the shirt as he held Sunday. He’d dressed her this morning, in a baby blue gingham dress that matched the hue of his shirt perfectly, with her curly blonde hair pulled back off her forehead with a coordinating headband, adorned with a bow.

“You ready to go see Uncle Roo, Sunny?” Bob cooed at your daughter, stroking her cheek gently with his index finger as he spoke to her.

Sunday giggled and cooed at her father as the three of you walked around to the side gate of the house. Bob reached around over the gate door to unlatch it, and as you watched him, you couldn’t help but notice that his normally slender build was appearing more and more muscular and toned. You knew that Bob had been spending a lot more time with Rooster lately, and by extension, Hangman, who’d convinced all the guys to start hitting the gym with him before trainings under the guise of “team-building” but you were convinced it was because he didn’t want to work out alone anymore. The gym sessions combined with carrying an almost toddler around were enough to have an impact on Bob’s upper body strength.

Bob looked over to you for a moment, flashing you a smile before walking up to Rooster with a firm handshake and a hug. Bob set Sunday down on the grass to play, watching as she started playing. He’d insisted on giving you a break for the day, feeling guilty for spending the last week and a half working overtime and putting in longer hours as they trained for an upcoming mission. You knew there was no use in arguing with him about it, and the extra time spent with Sunday meant the world to him. Besides that, something about seeing Bob take on the role of doting dad was driving you crazy with arousal, and you were going to make sure you did something about it later tonight.

“Sunday, come here, honey!” Bob called as he chased after your now very active and mobile 11 month old daughter. 

Later that night, you watched as your husband whispered goodnight to your baby daughter over the monitor on your phone, your heart fluttering at the sight of him leaning his tall, slender frame down to kiss his little girl on the forehead, murmuring sweet sayings to her that were barely audible over the noise of the sound machine that was playing.

 “Ok, I think Sunday’s finally gone down for the night. They aren’t kidding when they say that sleep regressions are the worst, are they?” Bob chuckled as he bounded down the stairs, shaking his head as he gently wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in tightly towards his body. 

“Have I told you yet that you’re the best husband in the world?” 

“You might have mentioned it earlier when she spat up on my shirt right before Rooster’s party for his promotion, but I’d be ok with hearing it again.” 

A cocksure grin appeared on Bob’s face as he nuzzled into your neck, placing soft, gentle kisses against the curvature of your body. A soft, surprised moan fell from your lips as his mouth made contact with your skin, but that was all the encouragement Bob needed to start kissing a trail from the top of your shoulder up to your ear. His movements were playful and light-hearted, but he knew that was what drove you wild. His hands caressed at your waist, sliding down to your hips as he pulled you in closer to him with a gentle yank, the curves of your ass now pressed firmly against his body. You could feel the fabric of his dress pants beginning to tighten against you as he began hiking up the skirt of your dress, giving your ass a firm squeeze.

“Bobby!” You giggled, shaking your head as you felt your heart race as if this was your first time being intimate with him. 

That was the thing you loved about Bob, he made every time feel as great as the first - the passion, love and excitement of when you’d spent your first night together, recaptured as if it was happening all over again. Bob had always been a passionate lover - your first night together he’d sheepishly confessed to you that he’d only ever had one girlfriend before, and he dated her throughout his high school years until he graduated and left for the Naval academy at 18. He’d been worried that his lack of variety in the field had made him inadequate, and he assured you that, if there was anything he was doing that you wanted him to do differently, he’d learn it for you. It’d been nothing short of perfect - you teased him that he must have been reading Cosmopolitan or something to know all the right places to touch you and kiss you, to which he just shrugged, pushing his glasses up on his nose with a grin.

Since that day, it was clear to you that Bob was a people pleaser, and there was no one on earth who he wanted to please more than you.

“You looked so hot in that dress today, babe. You’re stunning, you know that?” He purred into your ear as he continued to run his hands along your body, his breath hot on your neck as he spoke in that low, seductive tone he knew drove you crazy.

“Robert Floyd, you’re pushing it,” you teased, shaking your head.

“Now, now, darlin’, that’s Lieutenant Commander Robert Floyd. If you’re gonna use my full name, better be using that rank too, got it, pretty girl?”

You gave Bob a mock salute, a shit-eating grin on your face as you looked at him. Bob pulled you in closer, holding your hips firmly against him, your dress hiked up to your midsection as he gave your sides a gentle squeeze, his fingers digging into your flesh ever-so-slightly as he held you. Grinding your hips against his, you grinned wickedly as Bob let out a groan. He spun you around quickly to face him, his blonde eyebrows raised quizzically at you. His bright, deep blue eyes were locked on yours and you felt like you might melt right there on the spot.

“Now, a pretty girl like you, she deserves to be treated right by her husband, doesn’t she?” Bob hummed, his fingers toying with your inner thigh. 

“Mhmm, is that so?”

“That’s what I reckon,” Bob smirked, his accent shifting, becoming thicker as he slipped into his natural Kentucky drawl, his fingers brushing against your wet slit.

“Bobby!” You hissed, unable to stop the soft gasp that came out of your mouth with it. 

“I think, since you do such a good job taking care of Sunday and I, I should return the favor, don’t you?” 

Before you could open your mouth to speak, Bob pushed two of his long fingers past your folds, pumping them into your core at a tantalizing slow pace that left you practically aching for more. He smirked as his fingers worked at your core, feeling your body clench at the movement of his hand. 

“Fuck, Bobby,” you mewled, feeling yourself tensing up at his touch, “Feels s’good.”

Bob pulled his fingers out of you, your body aching at the loss of contact. He stood upright, quickly undoing his belt at a break-neck pace. He smirked as he noticed you biting your bottom lip, watching him as he shimmied quickly out of his khaki coloured dress pants and boxer shorts. Reaching into the pocket of the now discarded pants on the floor, he pulled out a shiny foil square of packaging. As he started to open it, you shook your head, whispering in his ear, your voice in a breathy whine as you spoke.

“We don’t need to use that if you don’t want to, baby. I wanna feel you.”

“That so, baby? Thought you wanted at least two years between kids?” He laughed softly, raising an eyebrow quizzically at you.

“I know what I said. That was before I saw you handling Sunday so well at Rooster’s this afternoon. Now I’m thinking 20 months is good enough,” you replied with a shrug, your lips curling into a smirk as you tried to convince your normally level-headed and rational thinking husband to forgo any form of contraception. 

Bob furrowed his brow in thought for a moment before tossing the condom wrapper behind him with a grin.

“What the hell, I’m on board,” He shrugged as he lifted you up, causing you to squeal in surprise as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

Bob carried you effortlessly over to the couch before dropping you gently down on to the leather sectional. He grinned as he hovered down over you, lining himself up with your entrance. He dragged the tip of his cock against you in a teasing manner, causing you to shudder and whine as you felt him make contact with your clit. He gave you a wicked grin as he watched you squirm before gently pushing himself forward. He paused for a moment for you to adjust to his size - something you should be used to by now, but yet, each time your body needed that extra moment or two to stretch around him. 

“That’s it, pretty girl, taking my cock so well,” Bob cooed as he pushed himself further into you, maintaining the slow pace he’d begun with. 

“Bobby,” you whined as he filled you, your fingers gripping his shoulders tightly.

Bob began thrusting into you at a leisurely, slow pace, his voice low and husky as he grunted in your ear, reminding you of how good you feel, how you were all his, and how your body felt like it was practically made for him. You squirmed and shuddered with each thrust becoming harder and sharper, perfectly calculated to hit exactly where you wanted each time, something that was to be expected of a man who’s job entailed precision and skill when it comes to angles. 

“You feel so fucking fantastic, honey. Can’t wait to put another baby in ya. That’s what you want, isn’t it baby? Want me to give you another baby?”

Bob’s hips crashed into yours repeatedly as he thrusted, his sharp, quick movements beginning to grow sloppier as he edged closer to his orgasm. You tossed your head back in ecstasy as he bucked his hips into you, the combination of his words and his movements just about pushing you to your orgasm. 

“C’mon honey, tell me what you want from me,” Bob husked.

“Need you to put a baby in me, please, Bobby,” you cried out, unable to hold back any longer as his latest thrust pushed you to your boiling point.

As if your words flipped a switch inside of him, Bob’s hips bucked forward once more as he grunted, spilling out inside of you as your body clenched around him tightly.

Breathless and panting as you both rode out your orgasms, Bob couldn’t help but laugh as he looked at you, shaking his head.

“So what was it about my parenting that got you worked up?” He smirked, unable to shake the grin off his face as he leaned down to kiss your collarbone.

“Honestly?”

“Honestly, I know something got you worked up today, and I doubt it was the backyard barbecue at Rooster’s.”

“Your biceps have gotten huge from carrying Sunday around everywhere, and with the polo shirt and the aviators today, and you were all proud of yourself for coordinating your outfit with Sunday’s, it was a combination of things, but,” you breathed, shaking your head as you grinned, “imagine how you’ll look balancing two toddlers on your hip.”

[blogtaculous]

I really want to give a shout-out to the Mobile Frame Zero community for the really, really cool work they’ve done since the following work was made possible by their efforts.

So, I watched all of Evangelion and was like “wow, mechs vs monsters is so sick like for real”

So my next Lego project is going to be mechs vs monsters in a micro city, thus continuing my trend of projects that stretch my collection instead of building on it.

While Brikwars shenanigans continue I have been building the mechs.

Here they are, a handsome little collection.

I wanted to write this post to expand on the lore of each machine but also to give credit to the excellent mech and frame builders I copied from. I think I have a real talent for castles and landscapes but machines and space builds still don’t feel right, so I’m thankful for others who have paved the way.

From left to right:

—

W-024 “Ancient Ode” is one of the original War Class mechs before the expansion of their battlefield roles, and is now one of the last to operate. It owes its longevity to numerous upgrades given its stellar combat record across conflicts and operators. It keeps its original colors, an homage to the Army it used to serve.

This one is based on principles from Josh's Super Chub Marines, though I've multiplied the legs and made some significant changes to the arms and shoulders. This mech was originally going to be a melee focused machine, but the super chub legs have some balance problems when posing, and I was frustrated by the lack of articulation in the ankles.

The solution came to me in a dream (Armored Core VI). I doubled the legs for a quadrupedal design, inspired by the success I had using them against Sea Spider. Now it stays upright effortlessly and I could also use more sand green (one of the best Lego colors). In general, the four legs allow for beefier body parts and the back-mounted rocket launcher.

“W-class” refers to a time when mechs were first used for warfare instead of construction or manufacturing. Today, Ancient Ode would be referred to a BL-Class (Battleline), but owing to its service record the original classification sticks. Ancient Ode is the Ma Deuce of battle mechs. I enhanced the build with stickers from the Avatar sets, though I was disappointed when the sand green on the stickers clashes with the brick color.

—

A-094 "Distant Oath" was one of the first artillery class mechs produced, as such the it was outfitted with a now-obsolete shoulder-mounted heavy cannon. While heavy cannon mounted in this manner such as the LM-15 Ultra Sonic have gone out of fashion in favor of much larger cannon or shorter range missile pods (a precursor of which is mounted on the right shoulder), it has been impractical to repurpose A-class mechs like Distant Oath.

Distant Oath is heavily based on the MF0 frame Uhlan Marine by skroberto on Flickr. I had to figure out most of it from his photos and other resources on the MF0 Facebook page. It's a great frame, but I made some internal changes to make it suitable for physical construction. Unfortunately, it is the least stable mech in the collection because the “knee” joint is a round tile using opposite anti-studs to hold the legs together.

Given the stability problems and its size I decided it would be an artillery piece. I added some stickers from a Mindstorms set, and the “A” in “A-class” was derived from the stickers. The cannon has one that says “Ultra Sonic” so that’s the name of the cannon. Distant Oath was almost a shade of blue, but I was using Orange while I designed it and decided I loved it too much to change.

—

S-62-2 “Wild Eyes” is a strike/support class mech designed for air superiority missions. These machines are among the newest frames produced, with boosted legs for softer landings and a lighter exoskeleton to let the booster engines really shine. They are useful for sustained flight and boosting directly into engagements.

This is a combination of concepts from -SuspendedAnimation-'s Rigel II and Andromeda MFO frames that use their X-11 core.

Wild Eyes is a strike/support class because I’ve decided that machines that are smaller and more mobile can have so many different roles that it would be impractical to classify them all different. The color chosen for the only soft blue that includes the chest piece and the shoulder bricks. Wild Eyes is a little lanky after I modified the arms to be more posable and it looked very “flight” to me so I gave them a real set of boost engines designed to fly around and harass.

I used more mindstorms stickers since they are transparent, but I was able to find some for the fund that say “Danger, Jet Blast” in a Marvel jet I could cut apart to fit.

—

S-973 No Survivors is a strike/support class mech designed for sustained ground operations. It's outfitted with stronger than standard armor and a booster engine for mobility to offset the additional weight. Additionally, it's equipped with a utility launcher for tactical munitions or a short range pile driver. Often, this style of S-class mechs carries a melee weapon, and No Survivors wields an RES (Rapid Energy Sword).

This one is a modified version of -SuspendedAnimation-'s Comanche core. I changed the shoulder and elbow assembly because I don't like how fragile modified tiles and taps are, something I also did for Wild Eyes and Ancient Ode. The rifle is their design as well.

Once again, the mech’s numerical designation is derived from the stickers. This one uses several unmodified from a Marvel jet. Like Distant Oath, No Survivors has last resort munitions in the chest. The RES isn’t a static blade like a lot of other mech settings, as that would be impractical when trying to fight in between buildings. It operates a little bit like a lightsaber, activating when necessary, and the energy isn’t all that stable. It explodes out from the handle and is closer to a giant lighter than a true sword.

—

I’m excited to get the city built for the mechs to romp around in. I have a few buildings mocked up already, but I don’t have space for more until I can block out the roadways. I love how AC6 cities are laid out and will be taking lots of inspiration from there. I also want to do some retractable structures like Tokyo-3.

Anyway, have a good day, thanks for checking out my work.

[pangtasias-atelier]

Summoner's Sedentary Supports: Tibarn

Finally got around to writing this after getting out a huge funk. So might be complete nonsense since like hrghh blorbs that I'm blinded and ofc I like it lmao

Warning: This is a fetish story!

In the very distant, most remote wing of the Order of Heroes brick white castle—the area originally physically remodeled a couple of years back before being magically reinforced another year afterwards—the entire wing is only occupied by the Order's summoner and all of the men he's supported. The area would appear vacant from the lack of activity in the expansive hallways, if not for the loud whirring of machines sounding out from every room alongside the small yet incessant tremors that ring out from varying unknown gurgling sources, said sources all ones that Kiran intimately knows and takes care of. The only room that currently displays some different sort of sound is Tibarn’s.

“You ready for another helping, big guy?” Kiran calls for Tibarn from the comfort of Tibarn’s enormous chest. Tibarn’s own tits large enough to make a transformed dragon seem reasonable, the summoner gladly takes advantage of the pillowy breasts, which serve as the finest bed Askr has to offer. 

The position where Kiran rests is a bit of distance from Tibarn’s head with his mountainous figure that only manages to stay within the shelter of his room with the aid of Kiran’s magic altering the dimension of his quarters. The distance, when coupled with the gurgling of his own enormous gut that only continues to grow hungrier the more he gluts out and stuffs himself, makes it difficult for Tibarn to hear Kiran. Though he also focuses on devouring the last remaining bits of his buffet sized snack, the magically controlled food gushing into his ravenous mouth that’s surrounded by his own lard from his puffed out bloated cheeks and several, countless rolls of lard for a neck and chins. 

Kiran teleports up to Tibarn, a miniature portal—as small as it can be to fit his prodigious 600, pound figure—created by his own magic much like the other portals the world of Zenith is known for. “My, you’re so greedy,” Kiran pouts at Tibarn’s sunken pile of lard for a face. “Can’t even bother to give me an answer,”

With as much energy he can muster up when he weighs several tons, Tibarn looks up at Kiran’s visage. And to his credit, Tibarn does look apologetic, the immobile Hawk King sporting a faint crimson blush on his rich, dark-tanned skin. “S-shouhrry,,,” The act does expend a lot of Tibarn’s energy. His face even turns a bit brighter. “I didn’tsh -huff- heahrr,” Tibarn continues to eat all the while; the act is the only thing he can do when not shrunken down to more reasonable weights to allow him some mobility when he craves moving around. 

“Shoo whaatsh-” Tibarn gets forcibly shut up by more food, the immobile blob willing to slow down his eating just for Kiran, only to have the summoner feed him faster.

Kiran conjures up another banquet for Tibarn to feast on, buttery rolls, grilled chunks of meat, among a myriad of other treats flung into Tibarn’s mouth with little more than a thought. “It was nothing. If anything, I shouldn’t have bothered you while eating,” Kiran adjusts himself to lay back down on Tibarn. “I promised I’ll take care of you and since you’re so hungry, I better do my part,”

Tibarn's own body is a testament to Kiran's promise. The Hawk King’s body, which is surprisingly still clothed with swathes of fabric that could clothe multitudes of people, is a far cry from his original appearance when he had been first summoned; long gone is his muscular physique that many other's envied. Instead, Tibarn’s body is a mountainous blob of fat, his immense weight now making him even larger than the transformed state of his dragon laguz brethren. But the largest aspect of him is his gut, the bulging stomach surges out in front of him, taking up the entire expanse of the magically enhanced room. Kiran’s spell meant to enable Tibarn’s gluttonous habits and give him ample enough room to grow—not that he can outgrow the ever growing room that's meant to keep up with his ever expansive size—has his current room far surpass Tibarn's throne room back in Phoenicis. Tibarn's lake-sized gut spills out in front of him and past his useless legs, leaving them looking more like overblown mattresses. Tibarn forgoing a shirt, unbelievably not because of his current size, his quivering gut is only covered up by his deep green coat. His coat remains unbuttoned to show off the splendor of his enormous girth rather than his former well built and maintained pecs and abs which seem impossible to have ever existed on his whale like body. The flaps of his coat splay down both sides of his stomach—portions of said coat caught in and outlining the shape and heft of his countless folds of fat—the sea of green also broken up by the light green lining. That, and the exposed tanned mass of his gut; Tibarn’s gargantuan belly is composed of numerous folds of blubber. His stomach has multiple rolls to it. His stomach’s largest roll is the bottommost one. It cascades out in front of Tibarn, spreading out dozens of feet in front of him. His stomach seems close to caving in on itself with so much fat packed into it, the uppermost portion of his lowest stomach roll lurching ever so slightly further than the rest of the blubber it rests on, the roll of stomach fat squishing down on his cavernous belly button, his navel pitch black by all the lard surrounding it. Tibarn’s upper roll of his stomach has much less weight to it compared to the lower section—not that the comparison is very fair to it, the still massive roll of lard far, far bigger than anything else in Zenith that isn’t one of Tibarn’s fellow residents. It sits comfortably atop the bundles of lard for a stomach, the pressing amount of fat lightly squishing the fat underneath it. His stomach billows out on both sides of Tibarn; not to the extent it does in front of him, but it does manage to ooze out onto the expanse of his thighs. Tibarn’s mammontine thighs are covered up by the beige, ever-stretchable fabric of his pants; likewise, his over bloated legs that are sunken into his cankles which in turn sink into his legs are covered up by his black boots.

While Tibarn's lower half hasn’t received quite the same amount of size and girth as his gut, his immobilized limbs still spread out far and wide, the outermost parts that aren’t smothered by his gut. His enormous, useless limbs cover up TIbarn’s crotch with the help of his mountainous stomach. Tibarn’s bulging fat pad is a rounded, squished mass of lard that remains hidden without the assistance of Kiran during more intimate moments. Meanwhile, Tibarn’s breasts have no trouble making themselves known with how much space they occupy. Tibarn’s swollen tits are large enough to make any other being jealous, what with each generously sized breast filled with a heaping amount of lard, more than enough lard to leave Tibarn’s tits larger than entire sitting areas, each. His chest demands attention with how much space it takes up on top of his monumental stomach. The two massive features of Tibarn completely obstruct the rest of his corpulence. Like Tibarn’s useless arms, his biceps filled with enough lard to leave them nearing the size of tables and causing them to sink into his own expanse, the upper portion of his arm fat swallowing his forearm like they do to his wrist and hands and fingers which he can barely even move, the simple act causing him to tire out. Hidden behind all of his splendor are his wings. The massive wingspan that the Hawk King sports—a domineering feature he enjoyed as the bird laguz with the largest wingspan in all three tribes—now seems so miniscule with his expansive blubber that far surpasses it. His wings are now completely useless, the extra appendages nothing but another adornment on his bloated blob of a body. 

Kiran stops for a brief moment, ceasing the flow of ludicrous amounts of food straight into and down Tibarn’s gullet. “You still got room for more, big guy?” Kiran peers down at Tibarn’s smothered in food cheeks that jiggle and wobble from breathing alone. Kiran cleans up Tibarn’s face with towels that he summons, grinning down at Tibarn while reaching into the depth of Tibarn’s crevices where sauce has even dribbled down into his chin and neck folds from his voracious eating. In truth, Kiran merely wants to hear Tibarn demand more, the summoner just as greedy as Tibarn’s endless cravings for food when it comes to seeing just how gluttonous Tibarn has become.

“BouuRRPP, I’m jussht.. haaahh gehttin’ shtaahted….” Tibarn’s stomach gurgles, the always starving throne room filling gut causing its own miniature earthquake with the way the walls rumble—the tremors thankfully being only in the room with extra enhancements from Kiran’s magic.

Kiran traces his own portly fingers over Tibarn’s cheeks, the overflowing jowls framed by Tibarn’s pitch black hair. “Just what I love to hear,” He summons more food, the entirety of it meant just for Tibarn.

But Tibarn makes him stop for a brief moment with him continuing to speak, albeit as sluggish as ever. “Whaashh nouht… tuh -hnnngh-.... love? I -nggnhh- goot'sh… goooohd -wheeze- f-food and better …-aaahhh-... c-company….” Tibarn’s face is bright red. Practically left panting from speaking, his hunger oly grows from the precious calories exerted, calories wasted to the two men.

“My, you do know how to sweet talk,” Kiran closes the portal of food only to open another one. He pulls out two tubes and shoves them into Tibarn’s mouth who begins to voraciously guzzle the liquid with zero hesitation. “How ‘bout a nice few barrels of milkshake to cool you down. And after that, I’ll make sure to give you a dozen plates of everything a big guy like yourself deserves~,”

[doughyduo]

mmfmfnnnngngnnn

there are 100% more things that i find really hot but these were the first things i could think of

ill make an addendum later when i have enough-

simple, but, weigh ins and numbers and heights…and girls who step on a scale, let it run for a second, and then it just gives out and crunches underneath them, especially truck scales or industrial scales

girls eating from troughs, not using their hands and just eating, and eating, and eating…

this list, because it gives a sense of scale that 5 tons isn’t as much as you probably thought it was, and millions of pounds isn’t a lot really-

blobby cheeks and neck rolls that just pile up mfmfmgmgmhmgmmmnhngnnnnn hoooly shit…ive commissioned like 20 from cvet and have more on the way it’s probably a waste of money since they’re all so similar but it’s so hot-

health issues, sometimes, can be hot. i have a draft somewhere about feeding a girl through a heart attack-

fat speech…belches sprinkled in…

hypnotizing a fifty plus foot tall girl, having her lean over, her big eyes swirling as she puts her chin on the ground and waits for you to tell her to do something

hypnosis in general can be pretty good, but it tends to be because of weight gain and appetites and fat that i like it more

hyperfats in general. a ten ton girl moving is really cute-

girl who’s barely mobile managing to run for a small amount of time because she’s excited to see you, sending you through a brick wall because she’s got so much momentum

girl so heavy she makes the ground shake / cracks it with each and every step she takes

girls who belch so loud buildings shake / the area around them shake

girl so greedy and gluttonous she needs more than just food and she just starts taking bites out of plates, chairs, tables, vending machines, buildings-

fat dragon/whale tails…dragons like kimiko and sulevia, whales like shylily and bao, generally, but some others are good. not cat tails or dog tails or fox tails, that’s weird to me in a fetish sense

girls rolling from on their gut to their back, shaking everything with the impact, their huge belly rising super high up, touching the ceiling, sloshing back and forth after

girls who breathe heavily at and get horny over food itself

blobs managing to heave their weight up to slam themselves into the ground, even at ridiculous sizes…i commissioned a blob with heart eyes and then the thoughts of her managing to like. hump or thrust for sex or whatever came to mind and this is so bad im sorry it’s weird

basic, but, big, huge, doughy arms way bigger than pillows

giantess fat girl just leaning back on a shore and draining oceans as she keeps getting bigger (it makes less sense the more i think on it but shhh, laying under waterfalls also works)

flat, flabby chests that look like they’ve barely gained any weight to a girl’s actual tits despite her weighing thousands of pounds

girls drinking lard or frier oil, downing butter like it’s nothing

[wordsandrobots]

IBO reference notes on . . . the aesthetics of the mobile frame

I'm having a rough time writing this week (I just need to torture Gaelio some more, why is this so haaaard?!) so here's something to keep my hand in regardless. I had a couple of posts planned on the mobile suits of the Post Disaster setting, one about the meanings applied to Gundams – which I shall complete at some point because it's interesting – and one ranking the various 'suits using criteria such as 'excellent round boy, no notes' – which I'm likely to ditch because it's quite boring. But thinking about that got me considering the reasons I clicked hard with IBO's art direction in the first place. So let's look into why it causes my brain to make so many pleasing whirring noises.

A distinction that makes a difference

To start with, this is in contrast to other Gundam series' aesthetics. While I have a certain fondness for the Gundam Wing designs and I enjoy the way the Dauntless, Valiant, etc. reimagine the Universal Century stalwarts for Gundam X, most iterations' mobile suits are firmly 'OK' for me. Neither very interesting, nor something I find anything in to especially dislike.

Iron-Blooded Orphans, however, introduces a concept that sets it apart: the mobile frame. That is, each mecha is built around a base skeleton that is the 'true' machine; everything else is modular and interchangeable. As far as I can tell, this is the only series in the franchise to do this. Other Gundam shows expose inner workings from time to time, but these are usually unique to a particular model of 'suit. Whereas in IBO, multiple different types of 'suit can share the same kind of frame.

Moreover, the fact they are built around an inner frame is made explicit in the art, so the 'suits look – slightly daft as it may sound – much more mechanical than, say, your average UC mecha. These are things approximating the human form, not something you can replicate with a guy in a costume, and that makes them appear somewhat less fanciful and slightly more like actual military hardware.

Which is a cheat, obviously. It's tweaking a genre convention to fit a particular tone: this is not a show in which 'suits are going to start magically bending time and space; it's the one in which they beat seven shades of brick-dust out of each other with giant lumps of metal. Fundamentally, these are no less silly than the more 'filled in' designs that came before. It just appeals to me to see the illusion being given extra depth.

But there's more to it than that.

Atoms of design

Several different types of mobile frame appear in IBO – eight, to be exact: Rodi, Hexa, Gundam, Valkyrja, Geirail, Graze, Teiwaz/Io, and Reginlaze (I count the Teiwaz and Io frames as one since they are functionally identical). These are all visually distinct and easy to distinguish when placed in the finished mobile suits. Yet they also share a common root element: the Ahab reactor.

Most Gundam shows have some sort of wibble-physics black-box to explain why giant humanoid robots are a sensible means of warfare. In the P.D. timeline, this takes the form of 'Ahab particles' that are generated by some form of quantum nonsense inside a drum-shaped reactor. The particles create pseudo-gravity and EM waves that interfere with communications and tracking, and the reactors are effectively infinite batteries, so we get artificial gravity and inertial control, comms black-outs and stealth in space, and the necessary wattage to power a mecha, all for the price of one.

That's the technobabble, anyway. Practically speaking, the Ahab reactor is a design element that must be integrated into each of the mobile frames. And I love this. I love setting arbitrary little rules and using them to create a coherent aesthetic. Because now each frame needs to have a big drum shape in it somewhere (or two, to create the Gundam frame's unique silhouette). A unifying commonality that still permits wide variation.

It's not always necessary to have designs reflect a concept of shared technology. That depends on what the story is doing. Witch From Mercury, for example, explicitly has multiple branches of mobile suit design on display at once, to delineate between 'suits produced by different companies. However, I enjoy the way IBO emphasises that the various mecha are all applications of the same base technology, especially as it gets at something easy to overlook about how the world is set up.

You see, while the Gundams get the reputation as these massively powerful weapons from a lost past, that is true of the majority of non-Gjallarhorn mobile suits. Rodis and Hexas are the most common frames and both predate the Gundam frame's development. Everyone who isn't Gjallarhorn or Teiwaz is using machinery at least 300 years old, never mind that it might be covered in brand new armour.

Those space pirates raiding ships in the Jupiter-sphere? The colonists trying to seize control of their living conditions? That country hurriedly upgrading its military for a modern challenge? They're all recycling the same frames that fought the war out of which the systems they're currently struggling to live with extend. It's incredibly thematically resonant, not to mention pretty close to the truth of the things IBO is assaying in its fiction.

Visceral shorthand

However, I think the most clever thing about the mobile frame model is the way it lends itself to in-the-moment storytelling. Having established the skeletons underlying each mecha, the show can freely expose them as required to demonstrate exactly how badly a fight is going.

IBO abandons the lightsabers and laser-guns of its predecessor shows in favour of a more grounded and brutal approach to combat. That is to say: thanks to additional technobabble, breaking through the armour of a mobile suit requires either something very sharp, going very fast, or something very heavy, also going very fast. Swords, clubs, maces, and heavy-gauge bullets are the order of the day, leading to a lot of crumpling and crushing, and more specifically, bits of armour being ripped off the frame.

It's a great shorthand for 'oh that was a hit', applied generously to all sides, to emphasise the damage being done while also making it clear the machines can technically still function in such a state. Barbatos actively starts out extra-skeletal, while 'suits like the Reginlaze Julia keep going when stripped of their surface layer. Even the unfortunate Graze Ritter on the back of which Mikazuki surf-boards down from orbit is visibly coming apart around its frame, underlining how tough the cores of these things are.

Furthermore, it increases the sense that the human component of a mobile suit is extremely frail by comparison. When you a have weapons structured around extremely durable inner workings, it draws attention to the vulnerability of the cockpit. Because in most of the frames, that's part of what goes on top. Rodi and Io frames have integrated control cabins, but the rest do not. On most of them, the pilot sits at what is nominally the most heavily protected section (the chest), but in fact, they are a little way in front of the piece that can be actively relied on not to break (the reactor).

Or to put it another way: a mobile suit pilot is visibly more likely to die in battle before the war machine they are strapped to does. Skewering the cockpit with something pointy is a deeply feasible strategy, and that vulnerability stems from design limitations imposed by the chosen structure of the mecha. The reactor has to go somewhere central. The mobile suit is built around a set frame. The armour will detach before the limbs break. So on and so forth, ad drill-knees, underscoring how cheap life is next to the hardware of war.

Making it about bones

To sum up, it's a neat concept, well executed. Mobile frames allow for visual coherence while permitting design variation and customisation. They are used to underscore the brutality of the combat, adding weight to blow-by-blow animation and to the general sense of danger for the cast. And they make IBO's mecha stand out from the pack, which to me is a big mark in their favour.

There's another point that delights me too, one I can best illustrate with some images. If you look at the at the Calamity War era frames, you'll see that the Rodi (left) and Hexa (centre) are both heavily robotic in outline. They have complex hands but are otherwise quite blocky, with very inhuman heads. The Gundam frame (right), however, has a more organic design, its points of movement more closely corresponding to the human body, and (uniquely) two eyes placed about where you'd expect.

Now clearly the Gundam is inheriting franchise design considerations (the 'man in a suit' look of the '79 cartoon) but within the fiction, it works brilliantly with the conceit of Gundams perfecting the man/machine interface. Of course it looks closer to a person; it's meant to be a more natural extension of the pilot than the frames that came earlier, to enable the split-second timing and instinctive movement required to beat the mobile armours.

We also see this running in the opposite direction. The Valkyrja (far left) is actually closer to the Gundam's sensibilities than its other contemporaries (it was developed at the same time), but its successors, the Geirail and then Graze, are even more robotic than the Rodi and Hexa, with considerably simplified structures. Even the hands are much more chunky and functional.

The narrative is both of a technological decline and of the requirements of mass-production. In the post-War society, mobile suit combat is less of an issue, so the 'suits don't need to be as complex. It's only when Gjallarhorn's position as top-dog in the solar system is threatened that they invest in something closer to the Valkyrja, with the Reginlaze (far right) being designed to allow a non-augmented pilot to compete with things like Gundam Barbatos.

I really like that degree of thought and detail in something that isn't especially relevant to the story, but adds to it once you know about it.

Other reference posts include:

IBO reference notes on … Gjallarhorn (Part 1)

IBO reference notes on … Gjallarhorn (Part 2)

IBO reference notes on … Gjallarhorn (corrigendum) [mainly covering my inability to recognise mythical wolves]

IBO reference notes on … three key Yamagi scenes

IBO reference notes on … three key Shino scenes

IBO reference notes on … three key Eugene scenes

IBO reference notes on … three key Ride scenes

IBO reference notes on … the tone of the setting

IBO reference notes on … character parallels and counterpoints

IBO reference notes on … a perfect villain

IBO reference notes on … Iron-Blooded Orphans: Gekko

IBO reference notes on … an act of unspeakable cruelty

IBO reference notes on … original(ish) characters [this one is mainly fanfic]

IBO reference notes on … Kudelia’s decisions

IBO reference notes on … assorted head-canons

IBO reference notes on … actual, proper original characters [explicit fanfic -- as in, actually fanfic. None of them have turned up in the smut yet]

[snpcmachine]

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[goblin-writer]

Still Some Way to Go

The big day had finally arrived. It had been years in the making. First came the design – a behemoth of steel and steam. Then they had to secure funding for the project. That step had taken months before an interested shipping company had offered them a literal forest of money.

And even once built they had to get on with their preparations. They refined the system. The engine was tuned, stripped down, tested, tuned again. And finally, they had laid out their route. Five days’ worth of supplies had been stationed along the way with tools and assistants in case they needed to fix something.

Their journey would take them a week to complete. With the traditional horse and buggy, it would take two, and while a train was faster, it was much more expensive, and required a lot of track to be laid. With their loco-mobile they could cut down on track and time.

And finally, the big day came. Pomp and spectacle abounded. The shipping company set up a tent with drinks and snacks. A big brass band bellowed and blew. And all the leading figures of town turned out to watch them go.

Not only the leading figures – the promise of spectacle had drawn a crowd. Rail and dock workers held up signs in opposition to their invention. Freight haulers arrayed wagons with messages of support and drinks for their workers. And the local school had brought their children out to marvel at the engine.

A team of engineers clamoured over the engine, filling its water tanks, and checking the coal stores. The ribbon had been strung between two flag poles. One with the company flag and the other with the flag of the small port town they had made their workshop in. A large, bespectacled man approached the two engineers.

“It looks like you’ve drawn a crowd.”

“All thanks to your generous patronage.” The sun touched engineer said – their eyes glowing with a deep, forbidding gold.

“Nonsense – this locomobile will make us rich. Just imagine the headlines.”

They had. Two small engineers revolutionising the world of travel. What more could anyone hope for as a legacy. Together they had gazed at the stars for many nights, peering up at that great darkness. The sun touched engineer had had the idea first and the next day they had gotten to work. Now dusty, brittle pages were lined with sketch after sketch and calculation after calculation.

Now they stood before the engine as a photogram was taken of them and the bespectacled man made a speech. It was all about innovation and prosperity. The company was excited to put the loco-mobile into mass production and today would prove the design once and for all. They had made prototypes run tests with scale models.

As the crowd cheered they climbed aboard using a short ladder. The sun touched engineer lit the burner, the grizzled inventor pulled away the chucks. They waved at the crowd as they got ready, passing each other with a small kiss as they took their places. And the ribbon was cut and fell away.

The machine lurched into motion as the grizzled inventor put her back into heaving the break level into neutral. With a crank the sun touched engineer turned a dial, their eyes sparking in sync with the burner. It was going to be a hard few days but they knew they could do it.

The crowd cheered and the and took up playing again. They fired the horn once as a farewell and trundled along, leaving a party behind them. It wasn’t too far to the first station, a few hours away to make sure the machine hadn’t developed any major faults.

The tires at first rand over cobbled stones, then smoother stones. The buildings turned from old, and tall to squatter and newer, losing some colour as they made it to the outskirts and exposed brick warehouses. Then they left town behind – music following them and people waving all along the streets with bunting alternating between blue and white hanging between lampposts.

The stone road gave way to dirt as they left town behind. Before them was nothing but wilderness until they made it to the next town over. They smiled as they worked – their invention worked.

The sun beat down on them as they trundled along the road. Its warmth paling in comparison to the engine. The grizzled inventor worked pumps to cool the engine as the sun touched engineer shovelled coal. They took long drink of water and tossed some fresh bread, covered with cheese to each other to bake above the coals.

It wasn’t as smooth as a cart, with the lurching and shuddering of the engine. But it was going well. For a while. And then it all happened at once.

There was a large belch from within the engine.

The smoke stuttered above them.

Their horn blew unprompted.

Rushing over they poured water on the engine to cool it. Water sloshed around their feet and off the side of the engine.

“Venting steam.” The engineer yelled above the noise.

“Easing onto the brakes.”

They pulled their levers.

Steam billowed out of the boiler. Their gauges showed the pressure dropping and the heat following. Sparks flew up from the brake wells. The engineer grabbed the steering levers and tried to keep it straight as the steam pushed the engine to the right.

With a pitch and a wobble, the engine shuddered to a stop. They slid down the side and found the ground meeting them much sooner than expected. Ahead of them the road spread out and the hissing of the engine drowned out all but the loudest sounds.

“How far have we come?” The inventor asked. The engineer shrugged as they sat slumped together. Slowly the hiss of the engine subsided. A new sound crept into their ears.

Music.

A brass band’s echoes to be exact.

Tentatively they looked around the engine. Was someone playing tricks on them? To their chagrin they could see the town a few kilometres behind them. They could make out the steamers in the bay, the bell tower at the centre of the square, and even the glittering instruments of the brass band on the stage near where they had started this endeavour.

“I don’t think we’ll get them fund our next engine.”

---

Thank you @flashfictionfridayofficial​ for this prompt. 200th week is amazing. I missed a few here and there but am glad that it keeps going. The prompts are always inspiring, even if I don’t always know what to write.

Here’s to 200 more weeks!

I may have been inspired a touch by an urban-legend retelling of a real event. Found out a lot of what I thought was true re that particular incident is just local legend. fact is rather different.

[thehenrythomas]

In the dynamic realm of digital marketing, search engine optimization (SEO) continues to be a crucial aspect of online success. As we step into 2024, several trends are shaping the SEO landscape, influencing the strategies that businesses need to adopt. Let’s delve into the key SEO trends for 2024 and understand what you need to know to stay ahead in the ever-evolving digital environment.

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