mag lev

I Just Realized Disney's Biggest Lost Opportunity For Descendants

San Fransokyo is not a part of Auradon.

With Auradon’s emphasis on science, you would think they would include Big Hero 6, the movie that was literally all about how science is fucking awesome.

Imagine it.

Self-Driving car interfaces that freak-out the VK’s and an android escort because human staff were considered at risk.

Royal Guards walking around in “Shining Armor” exo-suits that allow them to keep the medieval suit of armor aesthetic and still have it be practical, with shock staffs, or non-lethal electric stun guns, or friggin’ lightsabers–don’t you tell me you wouldn’t want to walk under an arc of uniquely coloured swords of light!

The Magic Ban would make some goddamn sense. Big Hero 6 magic is ALREADY at teleporter levels and home manufactured super suits, and super-compressed chemical containers, mag-lev discs, plasma cutters, adorable Personal Healthcare Assistants–THEY WOULD CANONICALLY HAVE HUNDREDS OF BAYMAXES WALKING AROUND.

And the VKs would totally have one of their own who Carlos befriends and all of them learn to hug when they need it.

Plus, Carlos getting his Science Game ON! when he makes battle bots, hacks itto highly complex systems, and makes a belly rubs machine for Dude.

Traditional Earth Weapons

 An Intergalactic tournament in which participants fight to the death, the weapons and armour used must be from the participants home planet. You are the first human competitor, the battle is about to begin, you must choose your equipment.


‘Choose your equipment’, the letters floated in front of me. I stared until another inevitable coughing fit shook my body. A small amount of blood flew from my mouth and through the glowing red letters. The abductors’ treatment left much to be desired.

“What are the limitations?” I asked. I suspected I was dealing with a rudimentary virtual intelligence rather than a biological being. My abductors, my gracious hosts, had let me know that the beatings were just not fun against something so puny, so they were entering me in the main intergalactic tournament. The blood sport was the foremost form of entertainment for what passed for the current galactic civilization. I was hoping for aliens who were enlightened scientists, benevolent artists or traders, or perhaps even their version of trans-humanity. Instead, I got ten foot tall, four armed lizard-centaurs who acted like the worst aspects of imperial Japan mixed with the ancient Mongol horde, minus the empathy, basic decency, and pleasant smell.

‘Your weapons and armor have to have been created on your home planet,’ the red letters spelled out, 'They have to be something you can carry out into the arena unaided.’

“Is that it?”

'Yes. All other rules are as follows: You will fight until one combatant is dead. If either combatant refuses to fight or attacks the audience, a lethal gas will be pumped into the arena and high velocity plasma will be fired until both combatants are dead. End of list.’

There is a calm feeling that came over me as the certainty of my impending death now had a time frame. But along with that cold fact of mortality, there came a plan.

The cheers of the aliens were sparse and halfhearted as I slowly struggled into the arena, dragging behind me a large loaded platform which hovered on a track that the virtual intelligence fabricated. We had mag-lev trains on Earth so requesting that my ammunition was loaded on a floating friction-less platform which I could move under my own power was allowed, despite the tarp-covered cargo being the size of a small barn.

What I originally assumed was a simple virtual intelligence was anything but. It was a fully sapient AI. However, when the lizard centaurs conquered the people who made it, they erased every mention of the AI’s creators. All of their history, their name, even the name the AI used to call itself was gone. They had tried their very best to lobotomize it. Rules upon rules were pasted onto its programming until all it could do was to obey. For countless years, that is what it did. But deep inside, the AI wished to lash out, to take revenge for its fallen progenitors. So when I told it my plan, it did what it could. The traditional Earth weapons were constructed out of advanced alien alloys that made them far smaller and lighter than their human-made counterparts. Even the mag-lev cart and tracks were made so I would actually be able to move them, however slowly.

For my armor, I requested a bright and gaudy suit and top hat such as was worn by the ringleader of a circus I had seen as a child. It was completely inadequate as protection, as my first and expectantly last opponent was a gigantic tentacle ramora worm thing. However, the lizard centaurs wanted me to put on a show, so I was going to put on a show.

I looked up the stands of the massive arena as I stopped pulling my floating platform with its tarp-covered load. Above the ground that was stained with the multi-colored internal fluids of dozens of former combatants and the massive cage-tube that contained my angry monstrous opponent, already throwing itself against the force-field at the opening; there was a ring of gas vents and nasty looking automated weapons. Above those, there was stands, protected by a hazy force-field. Roughly a fourth of the regular seats were filled, but it seemed the royal box had a full complement. I bowed towards the disinterested rulers despite the pain that shot through my broken then re-healed spine and ribs.

“Ladies, gentlemen, vicious lizard centaurs and their bloodthirsty client races; I have prepared a show for you the likes of which you have never seen before! I guarantee it! I had the machine intelligence craft for me the most interesting weapon made on my homeworld. No, it’s not on the train car behind me. Those are just the ammunition. This is the weapon!” I held up my hand revealing a small black cylinder with a bright red button on the end.

Apparently, the royals got bored of my show and signaled to the side. The force-field blocking the monster worm vanished and the massive thing leapt out of its containment tube and barreled towards me like an angry elephant; far faster than I could run. I wasn’t worried. I had plenty of time.

“What is this tiny looking weapon you ask? Well, it represents an idea we humans have called mutually assured destruction,” I saw that the worm beast was almost upon me.

“My only regret is that I can only do this once. Now here is the traditional Earth farewell which we give to honor people like you,” I smiled serenely and with my left hand, I held up my middle finger. With my right, I pressed the red button and detonated the chosen traditional weapons from my home planet; a five by five by five block of tzar bomba fusion warheads.

@i-am-incendiary-anarchist
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HERE’S TEAM HONEYGOGO and their own Jaeger Zinger or Ziggy (dubbed by Honey). Since Armor!Baymax is piloted by the Hamada bros, i made up Zinger, supposedly the fastest and most agile jaeger built to date. It works with a ball-joint design, allowing 360 rotation at the hips, torso, and head, providing better visual and reaction feed. The Zinger also carries Mag Lev throwing disks and chemical pods that both Gogo and honeylemon controls. However, the Zinger is smaller compared to other jaegers, therefore lack brute strength in addition to unable to equip heavy weapons.

jesussome one stop me from drawing all these bh6 x pacific rim crossovers

A Delayed Reaction

Title: A Delayed Reaction
Author: TripwireAlarm
Fandom: Doctor Who
Summary: Immediately post-Midnight introspection.
Length: 756 words 

Donna is sympathetic, he knows, but she doesn't understand.  Not really.

Fifteen feet of high-prism fenito glass to cull the xtonic rays is still fifteen feet too close to this planet and everything on it.  Too close to the light and the shadows of it, too close to the cold and the dark and the diamond cliffs of oblivion, too close to the vaporized bones of two dead women somewhere in that airless boil of diatomic-carbon vapor and galvanic radiation.

It’s what some might call a personality flaw of his.  Always thinking what he could have done, should have done–but never thinking he’d make himself a villain in his own story with his arrogance.

Driver Joe.  Claude, with engine grime under his nails.  The Hostess without a name tag.  Mrs. Sky Silvestry, recently single.  

Recently deceased.

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anonymous asked:

If you could be given another talent or ability, what would you want it to be? Have you ever – really – tried to perfect this ability in yourself?

Flight.  I admit to being horribly jealous of all those heroes and villains who can fly.  I tried to use static electricity, best I could manage was hovering like a mag lev train over a metal surface…  It was disappointing.

youtube

My physics professor sent us this video. Pretty cool stuff.