Yeahhhhhh, let’s gooooooo!
-Airboarder from Rhythm Heaven
I made a test text from Luna’s format :P
-Airboarder from Rhythm Heaven
I made a test text from Luna’s format :P
Greetings and welcome to one of the most exciting changes to the site yet: Markdown
We are replacing outdated and not very feature-rich text processing engine which we have been using so far, Textile, with something more widely used across the internet: Markdown.
Markdown, just like Textile, is a text processing engine. It’s powering every single user interactable text that you see on the site. Everything from comments and forum posts to more obscure things like tag descriptions and report text are processed via these text processing engines.
Textile was getting fairly outdated and with other resources, such as Discord, Telegram, Slack, Github and many others using Markdown, it’s been an obvious choice for us. With most of the internet already using Markdown to format its content, most people would be familiar with it to some degree. This familiarity, safety, user-friendliness and the fact that it has less bugs that our Textile parser, were the driving force behind this change.
We’re using Github-Flavored Markdown with our own modifications to support syntax commonly used on our site. Of notable things that we have implemented into our version of CommonMark we should note the following:
We have forked and modified comrak to achieve our features. The Elixir code of the site compiles and plugs the Rust code to render Markdown.
We are implementing the change in baby steps. They are as follows:
Yes, but due to conversion layer in-between you might run into issues where Textile and Markdown syntax collides.
No. It will simply be escaped and output as plain text.
Please reply to this thread and tell us about it! We expect things to break and be buggy, this is why we’re hesitant to write anything to the database just yet.
Heccin’ l o r g e cement-whittling floofers
rivaled in size only by the invasive aqua-ratts;
“which reminds me, those may still need to be tested sometime.”
Imos: “we have no clue why, probably something they hardwired into themselves when they were on their own, but they cannot link up outside their “pack” network. giving them hardware they can adjust but they remain separate, come virus, hyperwave or EMP strike.”
“aren’t functional cybernetic legs the things diploma wielding engineers make for their passing test? as in shouldn’t any civilized planet have a really low cost on them? but nevermind that, Kilos, how many tours have you had? i imagine you’ve been around the block and learned to judge good jobs from bad?”
“…and maybe start blasting that ice ball everyone seems to want.”
Odalisque, through a message ‘Van Eck’ buzzed across the ship’s wires: “…I don’t think military vessels are outfitted with the required tools for that level of destruction, and doing so is a crime against nature. That being said… would ya miss it?’’ <.<
Within the ship’s armory, Indra sits next to his anti-titan laser propped on a stand in the middle of a testing chamber, fumbling around with the weapon’s nonlinear nature of adjusting and customizing the settings and parts. Stepping out of the room to fire, instead of a focused beam, a blackened scorch-cone is created, expanded directly ahead of the weapon.
Indra: “Hmmm… lasers do be confusing.”
Anna: “The weirdest part about testing is, they did isolate. It was almost like it had a mind of it’s own, hiding itself away as junklike seed-code, and by the time they’d found out they’d been subverted, it’d even escaped out unto the outside world.”
“As for the cultists, practically, they were more concerned over cognitive science, neurochemistry, and artificial analogues. Not too different than their two neighbors to be quite honest, but more fundamentally driven with their work and goals mixed with their theology.”
“Before they moved into Beatty, they purportedly worked globally across the whole worldwide web, ‘each person as their own mobile office’, in their words. helped Souterain and Niraya both behind the scenes quite a few times, and during the cataclysm, though they never intermingled with outsiders, they did set up an entrepot for trade and their services: they assisted alot of poor folks out of Vegas with nowhere else to go, built up a few outlying settlements for them to live in, even helped them cope with therapy over the new age.”
Val: “That openness with the outside world however is what did them in. I saw the very person who detonated the nuke; some roughed-up military-men from Homey Lake all speaking some weird* cascading tone and noise for a language. The crazy thing is, I likely would’ve been able to escape alive from that scene, but after hearing that language for long enough, I’d started speaking it just as well, if not loquaciously. Guess dying and resurrecting cleared away whatever that was.”
Val: “Just meet back in the lab when you can, or the motorpool where I’ll call everyone to. If it’s something more immediate, I’ll seek you out directly instead.”
The large hyperflier’s fuselage sheds in a few places where damaged, then shifts it’s mass around adjusting for the loss. Several weapon systems emerge in the lost one’s place, and before Eviscerator can react, while distracted by dogfighting the other craft far too nimble to gain a bead on, a straight homing bolt of lightning cracks across the sky in reply, impacting Ev and sending an intense burst of volts rippling through it’s body.
Instantly, the machine-person is shocked back into anthropomorphic form, plummeting down to earth with engines sputtered off.
IMos: “i feel physical pain akin to a hammer to the head, when you tell me of their CRIMINAL carelessness, i mean in Niraya some safeguards have clearly been overwritten by that braindead outside contractor back then, but why ever would you put samples of unknown material into the dis-and reassembly cycle without a well isolated sample testing range first?”
he then calms himself, it was not easy to get him to flip his shit but when someone insulted professionalism and common sense at the same time, that set him off.
“hmm, looking over the map i can only assume that tech cult’s experiments went wrong or horribly right and whatever came out of it was not entirely their dream. if indeed a tactical warhead went off in there any machine threat has hopefully been neutralized accordingly.”
[ 🔊 ]
Within Anna’s lab, the hazmat-clad feline-lady casts off her protective gear for a labcoat instead, then leads Nyanta to be seated near to a larger version of that box she’d tried to fit over his arm. An adjacent parrock for test-livestock is also cleared and left ajar for Grimm to rest in.
Transforming that desired limb into its true appearance, she fits it into the large windowed box, then seen through the glass a cluster of tendrils extruded from familiar-looking small ports reach across his forearm, slowly, painlessly taking the replacement off and placing it into a biohazard-labeled container, while slowly, Nyanta’s own natural arm begins to slowly knit and materialize right before his eyes through the glass…
Anna: “…most of this stuff’s been pressed out with the few replicators found around the safer ‘green’ zone of Souterain, along with bookfulls of blueprints we’ve recovered. Just shovel requisite materials in, and whatever one wants is pressed out the other end.”
“With medicine and food though, we’ve looked around Niraya for the few startup ‘auto-pharmacies’ and upgraded emergency departments built in this region long ago. The bio-synthesis vats we’ve found in there have been invaluable.”
“There’s also what Val calls ‘engenerator pods’ installed into those emergency departments, but we could never disassemble and move them properly, so we just turned on and left them as they were, sometimes using them too as outposts, other times as deserted but sealed and stocked-up caches… if any of you three were to meet an untimely end, you’d likely resurrect within the nearest one of those pods for miles around. Shame we can’t relocate them, though…”
As the process takes quite a while, looking next to Nyanta, something is seen writhing within another separate glass box.
…pressing against the glass;
Anna: “Ehhhh… don’t worry about that. Old project on the backburner… here, lemme,”
Anna pulls some drapes over the nearby box to conceal its morbid contents, reclines the chair Nyanta is in to let him lay back, then hits a button on a remote, activating what seems like a large, old television at the corner of the room. Onscreen, two scantily-clad dogs locked within a ‘thunderdome’ fight eachother, armed with what could possibly be “modernized” musket-pistols, as well as sharper-than-razor knives, judging by the slashes they inflict upon one-another causing no obvious pain. In moments, as one of them finally passes out, paramedics rush unto the fighting ring to tend to the dog’s wounds, as well as the other still standing…
@Cerebrate @Jinx @EclecticInspiration
As Nyanta’s arm is tended to, as well as Imos adjacently and a few minorly-injured caravaneers, Val responds to Imos’s other question, with Eviscerator and Benko nearby; “…You, Grimm, Nyanta, Benko, Eviscerator, Anna, and I will all go the rest of the way, aboard the baserunner, Grimm, and Benko’s loper, leaving everyone else who was with us here at home.”
“Three people lost was unacceptable, let alone just one, so I’m not taking risks with them anymore. It’ll just be all of us, now. And as I’ve said, we can leave as soon as both your wounds are knit and healed, or you can get acquainted with our town, then depart for Souterain whenever you all would like.”
“It’d all be completely painless, of course… I mean, you’ll feel some pins and needles for a minute or two, but no worry.”
“‘ere, lookeh.” Getting up from her seat, she picks a glass-windowed box off of a shelf, opening the side of it to reveal the inner space large enough to fit one’s entire arm into. “Put your arm in here, and you’ll feel something odd for a moment, then nothing, then normal again, I promise.”
“It’s like, the Gom Jabbar test from Dune, only not coercive, or painful… sooo, really not much like it at all, I guess.” %(. . )%
As he pets, the loper seemingly grazes on bare soil as it walks… As he pets its flank, looking behind, he notices a thin glimmering chain stretching far back, until disappearing across the ground. Looking to where it connects to the loper, the ratt realizes the chain is made out of dispensed paperclips made between grazings… Maybe the loper’s making a trail?
Looking ahead just to check if the paperclips aren’t just a mysterious trail being followed, far over on a hill they’ll surmount in a few minutes, he sees a shadowy figure with a hunched posture standing atop it… His body appears pitch-black, but his face looks pale-white, the latter very bright under the desert sun.
Turns, glancing back at the half-deaf cat on the cave floor. %<-<%
“…This could all be part of some really fucked up test for seeing pilot-candidates’ personalities under duress and in extended isolation, now that I think about it… In which case, I’d have to try reeeeeeeeelly hard not to stab Brax in the face once I see’em again.”
“Besides questioning the validity of this mission, though… on the opposite end, if this even is a real op, what if we really did go pirating off with an IMC Widow, hypothetically speaking? Think we’d be able to just sneak in and take it, then land somewhere else to pick all our things up? Or would it be best to throw everything we’ve got at their landing site, hitting them fast and hard before they have a chance to take off?”
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