#Semi-vector

[phicicle]

Sorry guys

I saw this trend on twitter & saw an opportunity

[plebec-invisk8r]

NYOOOOM!!

" Scrap-! "

* He transformed and drived out of the impact just BARELY, but not fully. He still got submerged anyways, as some of the water managed to get on his frame. *

* He transformed back, immediately feeling the water seeping through the cracks and seams of his frame. He internally groaned to himself. How did he not even react sooner?? *

" . . . Seriously? "

[sonknuxadow]

vector the crocodile in the semi hero ending of shadow the hedgehog (2005)

[fainthedcherry]

2023 ARTFIGHT STUFF!!!! CREDITS TO CHARACTERS FIRST, DESC LATER!!

1ST IMAGE TOP. Azar belongs to my friend @uncannyarts  !!! This piece was actually a revenge piece, as Uncanny was the only person who's attacked me this year!! (honestly glad kinda of bc I wouldn't of been able to probs revenge a buncha people this year xD)

^Plus their attack was LINELESS SO I HAD TO NO U THEM BACK OFC W/ A VECTOR.

---

2ND IMAGE BOTTOM LEFT. Surgat belongs to @nblemons !!!! (hopefully you don't mind a tag, if you do, I'm SO sorry!!)

This one was my first attack bc I was waiting to draw this one in my bookmarks. xD

---

3RD IMAGE BOTTOM RIGHT. Twixt belongs to fairyhaven13 !!

I used washi tape for the cool holo bits on the chara, as I knew I had 0 chance to make THAT w/ some cheap ink. The moment I'll have more money I'll get more ink for that type of stuff. xD

---

I GOTTA SAY. I AM MIIILDLY DISAPPOINTED IN MYSELF, LOL. If I would've made one last piece, then I could've hit the half, like I planned to this year. I wanted to make 4 attacks, instead of 3 buut- just like my friend said, "everything that could go wrong, went wrong for you in July" sdflkdsgdsgo FAX HART. FAX. But oh well!! At least I got out of bed at all to even draw tbh in that month. It was so bad for me LOL

---

I finally felt motivated for another social media post!! I got quite a bit to post soon again, as I lately started to feel my motivation return so I draw faster!! I couldn't finish the 4th piece in time as at the time there I was stuck quite in some burnout with myself AND my art, but on the art-side it's healed for sure!! :w;

I don't got much to add, other than, I wish I would've had more time and less mental issues in July LOL. With that, time to make a million tags magically appear LÖSDFGLPÖDSG

[sintogs]

Chaotix headcanons !! (mainly for my au :) fic still in progress </3) very self-indulgent so they're probably mischaracterized HAHA my bad

Subject to change/stuff might be added!

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶

(under cut ↴)

Vector

→ 29

→ He's a straight ally 🏳️‍🌈 loves his little gay kids

→ Boston accent. This will never not be funny to me. Is he from New York? Does he just talk Like That™️? Who knows

→ Chronic gambler. Even if it's not money he's always gambling with something

→ Anger issues </3 he's me I am him he's working on them though and doing pretty good

→ Married Vanilla 💗 they're very sappy and do that thing where they show a lot of pda in front of each other and it annoys the shit out of their kids but they're adorable together so they get away with it

→ Eventually starts charging people for his services. Now that his family's expanded, he needs all the money he can get

→ Can't sing for shit. It devastates him he wants to learn so badly

→ Djs on the side. Pretty good at it

→ Despite having mostly sons, he's such a girl dad. Goes on daddy-daughter dates with Cream a lot he loves hanging out with her

→ Not allowed in the kitchen. He'll find a way to burn it down, blow it up, and kill every living thing within a five-mile radius

→ Likes boxing/stuff life boxing. Trains with Knuckles :)

→ Will jump you if you look at his kids wrong. Very defensive of them even though they can take care of themselves

→ Amy's like his daughter too? Vanilla considers Amy her kid and Cream considers her her sister, so Amy's technically in the family

→ His kids consist of (oldest to youngest): Espio, Knuckles, Mighty, Amy, Ray, Cream, Charmy. Gemerl counts as his kid too but idk where he would fit in the lineup. Only Espio, Cream, and Charmy are legally his but he considers the others his own too

→ Speaking of, when he broke the news to Espio and Charmy he adopted them, they both freaked out in their own ways /pos. Charmy started bawling immediately and Espio stood there silent and wide-eyed. He smiled eventually, then freaked out again because where did Vector get the money for that ??????

Espio

→ 25

-> Achillean, demiboy (he/they) but also low-key doesn't care what you call him

-> Japanese

-> Inherited Vector's tendency to gamble. He's not as bad but he would definitely run straight to the slot machines at a bar

-> Dating Silver </3 shameless Espilver propaganda um been dating for 9 years

-> Pretty close with Blaze as well since he's dating Silver

-> Trains with Charmy a lot, teaches him (forces him to learn) how to use kunais, shurikens, improve his stealth, etc. Charmy's actually not that bad a listener

-> Also teaches Charmy Japanese!

-> Autistic 💥 or some form of neurodivergent.

-> Semi-strained relationship with Charmy. They love eachother through thick and thin, but sometimes Espio wonders if Charmy prefers Vector's company over his

-> Low-key excited to have sisters after all the years Charmy's driven him insane. Let's Cream give him makeovers and bakes with Amy from time to time

-> Feels like he's not allowed to make mistakes. His family literally could care less but to Espio if he fucks up it's the end of the world

-> Loves to read. He likes poetry (really good at it too), classics, distopians, etc

-> Him and Knuckles fight a lot. At each others throats constantly they're eachothers #1 hater

Charmy

-> 15

-> Bi trans ftm (he/him but he also doesn’t care), started transitioning (socially) early childhood, 'bout around the time he started living with Vector

-> If he was a human he'd be black. He's black to me

-> Like Espio and Knuckles, he fights with Kit a lot. Like. A lot. More than Es and Knux ever do

-> Inherited the anger issues from Vector. It's bad. Very temperamental

-> Vector's gayest kid somehow ??? Even though he's like one of the only single ones

-> As well as training with Espio, he trains with Knuckles too

-> Archie comics are semi-canon to my au so his whole backstory happened </3 r.i.p. bee family (he was 6 when it happened though to keep the timeline of the games consistent, still fleshing that out)

-> Because of said incident ^ he has abandonment issues. Can't be left alone for more than 3 hours without tweaking

-> Besties with Marine. Don't leave these two alone they'll either find a cure for cancer or unleash a zombie virus on the world

-> Chronic copier. He studies and copies most of the adult figures in his life (his family, Shadow [especially Shadow], Don & Nite, etc)

-> Speaking of Don and Nite, they're like his 2nd dads! If Vector ever needs someone to babysit his kids, he sends them to the birds

More to come </3 I'm lazy

-> Only musically inclined one of the group. He loves singing (pretty good at it), playing instruments, writing songs, etc

[hirvenxsoturi]

"Grilled watermelon. And I wouldn't recommend putting like, barbecue sauce or anything on it but sprinkle a little brown sugar on the surface of sliced watermelon and then grill it for just long enough for the sugar to caramelize, and its super fucking good. Grilled pineapple is really good too, it ends up cooking out all the sour so its just really sweet." He was going to keep spiriting away the not so great ingredients too, for however long it took for Judas to go through his cabinets.

He was so busy sampling other ingredients he didn't notice the ones getting spirited away in secret. "Grilled what?" That was a pretty good indicator that the answer was no. "You can barbecue fruit?"

[mclalan]

Can you share what your art-making process is? What software and tools do you use?? I'm falling in love with your work!!

Thank you, I'm so happy you like my work and are interested in the process. The short answer is I mostly use Adobe Animate.

I hate how I'm using an Adobe product (although I still regard it as a MacroMedia Flash product), but there's just no other software that compares to its jankiness. Perhaps it's just my long familiarity with the program, but nothing I've experienced matches how it simultaneously feels like drawing in MS Paint and using Microsoft PowerPoint vector shapes. The result is something that feels in-between the two; handmade yet computer-generated.

Typically, I'll start with a hand-drawn sketch, often beginning as a thumbnail done with pencil and paper.

I'll then do a mix of hand drawing and vector shape tool rendering. I use the Paint Brush tool to hand draw strokes, and the line and shape tools mixed with transform to make more geometrically accurate shapes. The design is rendered into divided closed loop shapes, ready to be filled with a solid. The strokes are kept or removed depending on the design.

These fill shapes are then either coloured and rendered in Adobe Animate, using fills, gradients, or a more complex process of masks and effects.

Alternatively, I'll bring all these vector shapes into Photoshop and use them as clipping masks. The vector shapes act like masking taped areas or shields to maintain sharp edges, while the brush is like an atomized airbrush used to build soft volumed forms.

Please excuse all that horrible Adobe Cloud and AI bloatware...

And there we go!

Variations in the process include just using MS Paint, index color in Photoshop, or 3D programs.

Very old works of mine were almost abstract, just exploring digital mark-making, which was a trend I was following in the mid 2010s that I loved. This kind of stuff.

While my current work uses its digital material specificity as an intermediary to the subject in the illustration.

For example, #ersatz.world parodies clip-art and flash edutainment styles but imagines the characters living within that kind of world. The designs are meant to be cute, easy to read, light in computer processing, but also irreverent, janky, and generic too.

People typically regard this sort of clip art style as ephemeral trash, but I always found them charming. I use Ersatz World primarily as a satire vehicle, parodying educational formats to spoof corporate explainer content and digital media.

However, part of the problem with Ersatz is I've made it look too polished, complex, and I've grown too attached to the characters, which I imagine is a typical issue with overbuilding a world. So recently, I've made an even jankier Ersatz-like set of characters to play about with, using an even simpler style with less cohesion. I like to try and use slightly different styles and digital material styles to relate to the property at hand.

That’s why #autonymus has a bitmap digital material and a denser feel to it. Unlike Ersatz, Autonymus is not meant to be an overt semi-meta fiction. It’s not exactly pixel art, but the pixels are just about visible, as the intention is to create a digital expressionist depth to the setting. Although it’s still stylized and not realistic to our world, I definitely still want to evoke semblances of our world. That’s why there’s attention to landscape, plant life, and implied life beyond what you see in the frame with the characters, etc. But I'm still making a cartoon, and I still want it to feel at ease with itself being a digital material work. Characters are therefore flat, simple, stiff, and the speech style is like a bad Shakespeare parody. I like to balance between ugly and appealing, simple and complex, familiar and unfamiliar.

In regard to things like inspiration, references, and my relationship to aesthetic genres; these things certainly factor into my work, perhaps I'm even overtly dependent on them. My work can definitely be post-modernist in method; creating new, ironic, or fragmented interpretations through deconstructing a mix of various styles or methods. But at the same time, I'm still trying to make a digital gestural representation where the aesthetic is driven by my relationship to the software and techniques directly—not simply in an attempt to reference a style. For example, I like drawing lines in sweeping strokes, not to a point of geometric perfection, but just in a way where the curves are smooth and simple. But if I want perfectly curved or straight lines, I'll use the vector tools.

Working this way, you can sort of learn why certain styles and design choices in past vector aesthetics were made, as they would have also needed to make similar choices. That’s why I’m more mindful of using digital material specificity as a foundation to build narrative and subjects upon these days.

For example, genre references like cyberpunk clichés for #cyberhell or late medieval design for #autonymus or 2005 to 2015 era subculture fashion for #gradientgoblinz.

I think it’s important to take inspiration and reference from a wide variety of sources, but I think they’d mean nothing without having something to say or express. Autonymus, although it is a collection of tropes and clichés, isn’t just about that. It’s a story about the tensions of socially constructed systems and how that shapes faith, technology, and the natural world, or at least that's what I'm aiming for anyway.

But despite all that, I think there’s a danger of locking myself into the past by using these methods. For example, using nostalgia and references to past aesthetics can result in just recreating the past in a form of role-play. To avoid that, I try and evoke the past through a messy, inaccurate pastiche rather than caring to accurately re-enact anything. I’m probably not always successful at communicating the deliberateness of this, and it can certainly get very frustrating and pedantic. To be honest, I do kind of hate aesthetic labels (terms like Y2K, global coffee house, utopian scholastic designs from a pre-9/11 world).

I do not believe that a project aimed solely at mapping history through aesthetic styles is worthwhile. Sure, they can be handy for organizing style trends, but they can also be reductive and ahistoric. Who are these people to define the history of these design eras? The result is a kind of suffocating simulation of design history but removed from context, perfect for moodboardism. I wish it felt more tongue-in-cheek, less absolute of itself in its own practice. Instead, it acts to legitimize and engender those making these labels, almost giving them ownership of the design styles. It’s similar to the logic and process of generative AI and its databases in a way, just done manually.

I’m very inspired by artists like Oneohtrix Point Never in this regard, as I think he’s able to create an aesthetic portal to all kinds of memories, feelings, and worlds reminiscent of the past, while still being in the present. It’s more a reflection of how timelines are messy now, like a memory or dream, rather than an audacity to say the past was actually like that, or to try to actually map some kind of timeline.

I think the benefit of this process is how it avoids the other side of the spectrum—being locked into chasing the cutting edge of digital processes. I don't necessarily think using an old digital process means your work inherits the semiotics of old aesthetics. Non-digital mediums don’t have this issue to this degree, as you can still paint in oils and be considered contemporary, or at least it's not frowned upon to such a degree. And I also don't think anyone in the heyday of Flash ever made work the same as I do, especially as computers are more powerful now so can handle more. I probably shouldn't boast too much about that though, as artists at the time probably just had more sense than to use Flash like a painting program! So then, why is my use of Adobe Animate critiqued as obsolete and an aesthetic dead-end? Because to whose standards is this process obsolete? If you value digital aesthetics as an apparatus in industry practice, then sure, my work is redundant.

But as wonderful as the latest tech can be in creating new aesthetics, I do feel it can be overtly dependent on the trends and directions of tech corporations, and therefore act as an indirect propaganda tool to their hegemony over digital aesthetics, such as the ever-demanding processing power needed for simulated realism. If anything, work that does follow in the direction of the latest tech trends is ironically the quickest to date once the trends move on.

I've noticed I've not really described what my work is about, just the process, in this text. But I don't know, maybe I like Flash because it is regarded as redundant. No one really cares about it, so I feel free to make whatever I want, and can decide on form myself, to my own standards, the quality of my work. As fun as making images is, I find it difficult to put into words what it is exactly I'm expressing in my work, and perhaps that would spoil it anyway.

[luonnon-varainen]

I had it in mind for a while already so I here are my thoughts and headcanon about Collie or rather the „bodily functions” of the eldritch god, here the "species" is archivist

There are some extra notes on doodles but oh boi the amount of typos there is unbearable x"d

Starting from the beginning and basic - the core:

The core is a semi-conscious substance of unknown molecular structure, if with any molecular structure, functioning as magic carrier/vector(similar to the ATP). It's a mystery whether it is really an elemental structure, a condensed energy or a form of electromagnetic waves beyond our current knowledge. In general it is said that core is pure celestial magic. It has many physical qualities of a fluid. The closest liquid to the core would be a Non-Newtonian fluid. It is a blackish, very sticky, dense liquid similar to pitch, which is highly sensitive and "reactive" to a electromagnetic field like ferrofluid. The core, most likely due to its structure and origin, is very unstable. Visible light exposure is enough to cause a spontaneous rapid reaction which ends with an explosion. Making existence on its own very unlikely. In case when the core happens to be sealed inside the archive - the semi-conscious body made of mostly gold, iridium, wolfram and glass, which contains all collected life forms - it creates what is known as an god, in this case an Archivist. This amalgamation allows to not only creat a stable form of both elements, but also develop an fully conscious eldritch, who is able to exist actively. Archivists possess almost full control over their core: shaping it, moving around, grabbing different objects with it, shielding themselves

The core is a more "human" side of an archivist. The element capable of adapting, blending, learning mortal structures both anatomical and social and rebuilding it to their own standards, experiencing emotions and many more. It plays the main role in defining what kind of person the archivist will be. Yet, the core is not equal to Archivists. It possess it's own "personality" and "opinions", similarly to the archive. Sometimes the core and the archivist are quite different and are working not very well with eachother. Situations like these are called "speaking" - a small part of core presents, usually visually, it opposing opinions against whole god's will. It's not harmful, just annoying and uncomfortable

The core is like a liquid - almost incompressible. It's quite an issue when you are a planet size entity who needs to shrink whole your body to be able to fill the archive and keep on existing, but also need to protect "guts" from exploding during day. The long, baggy robes come to aid in this case. Dresses, veils, hats, too puffed trousers and sleeves allows to hide quite a lot of the liquid from external conditions, by creating the precious shade, controlling the temperature amplitude and keeping it away from other liquids. Extra protection are given by their characteristic cloaks, which inner lining is a portal to the Grand Archive. The Grand Archive is a pocket dimensions away from intense light, where the core can be a bit safer and longer outside the capillary archive than usually. Also in order to work in an unwelcoming environment such as a planet, archivists developed a pulsating movement of the core. As the whole core cannot be at the same time in the archive, to prevent the destabilisation and consequently explosion, it is constantly flows through the body and around their closest surrounding. It's quite similar to the cytoplasmic movement around vacuoles in a plant cell or blood flow in Mollusca' s vascular system. The free flow of the core is the key reason why archivists avoid intense light and making them rather a "nocturnal" creatures

The core is inside the archive, where it's well secured and stabilised. However, there are many passages for the core to leave its shelter. These channels have no protection besides a thin membrane. They have a crucial role in an archivist's life as they are the doors to the inside of a god. All collected mortals eventually will end up inside the archive, but that requires a special spell that will reduce the mortal to smallest functional elements. Even smaller than the scrolls provide. That is possible thanks to these exact entrances. The mortal, whether in a scroll or not, will be pushed through one of those channels, encapsidated by the core, " dissolved" and placed inside one of bazillion capsules of the archive. It's unknown if the final archivisation is an painless process, but the truth is that it doesn't matter at this point - whoever was placed inside will stay there forever. The main passage are eye sockets-

The eldritch gods and deep sea creatures are extremely similar in terms of their adaptation to the environment, conserving energy idea and their life motto "eat or be eaten". So no wonder that archivists put a lot of effort to become the most efficient and effective as they could. The core shaped the archive to resemble intelligent life forms displaying a beautiful example of aggressive mimicry. As mortals are the most troublesome in terms of catching them without excessive energy loss. Looking like a young and lost in the forest nymph can really boosts chances of putting hand on curious mortals. After all who wouldn't try to figure out who the hell is this and why it's in my forest at 11 pm(at least I would, but I'm the natural selection's target for a while so I'm not the best example xd). Why go and chase when you can make them come to you. There are way more of the adaptations but it's more the archive than the core topic and I'm not writing it down today

A skilled archivist can use the surrounding matter, even quite reactive one like water, to temporarily shield the core or divide it and archive in order to create the "puppet - puppetmaster" form. A terrible thing to encounter on a long voyage or while wandering on the desert, especially if your specie decides to resist god's will-

[plebec-invisk8r]

*projecting my period crap to Flash Vector*

. . .

* Flash Vector stared hard at Oktavia. Projecting these so-called 'Period Cramps' onto him? Surely they arent that ba— *

. . .

" Wait no- "

" NO— "

* Snap, Pain. Pain that spread from the lower back to the mechanical joints of their frame. *

" AAAAAÆÆÆÆÆÆAAAAA@AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAÆÆÆÆÆÆAAAAA@AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAÆÆÆÆÆÆAAAAA@!!! "

[theviceenforcer]

Shadow the Hedgehog (SFM) - Semi Hero Aftermath

When Shadow falls into despair after learning about his past, Vector ensures that everything that had happened wasn't his fault and that Maria would actually be proud of him for saving the planet from evil.

[glittergroovy]

fig. 1 - Anti-aliasing

Semi-transparent pixels along the edges of letterform outlines to smooth jagged edges. Anti-aliasing is usually desirable at large point sizes (16 points or above).

fig. 2 - Rasterization

Converting an image from vector to raster (pixels or dots)

source

[malewife-overlord]

Six Cycles Later: Cybertron

Chapter 3: Mistakes

Trigger warnings: body horror, gore, violence, sparks, unethical experimentation, some medical malpractice, hi shockwave

Featuring a guest appearance from Clinic, who belongs to @palmmall

Chapter summary: There's something in the base.

word count: 5907

Prior chapter is here. next chapter is here.

chapter below the cut!

Project MS: Log 3

The metal eats. He should have figured it out the moment he observed lower Energon levels in the Distiller. The metal eats, because it is alive. It eats, because it wants to rebuild. It eats, because it remembers.

Shockwave stood before the glass tub, watching the amalgam within writhe. In the span of only two solar cycles the Distiller had finished its work, reducing the Autobot scum he’d harvested into the thing before him. Too many shapes were attempting to take form at once, resulting in a mass that couldn't quite decide what it wanted to be. 

He could see the structures of horns forming, the curve of fenders, the digits of individual servos, the rough shape of eyeless faceplates. The metal made no sound as it shifted and struggled against itself, always returning to its semi-liquid state, then rising up again, struggling in an eternal conflict of reformation. 

How this had come about, he could postulate. The Distiller required charge to recognize its target. It was, according to his original calculations, fully equipped to remove that charge in the process of separation. For Energon, this was a simple task. But perhaps for sentio metallico, not so much. The metal which made up Cybertronian plating was designed to hold onto its charge, which was what ultimately animated the frame. The Distiller was simply not as effective at removing it from fresh resources as he had programmed it to be. 

Such was the nature of the scientific process: fail, learn, and rebuild. Shockwave would have to adjust it, reprogram, and completely remake the inner machinery of his creation. He was not about to scrap his work—far from it. The Distiller was working as intended: the metallic ooze quivering in the tub before him was merely a byproduct of its adjustment process. He would address the glitch within the system and there would be no more issues like the thing in the future. 

But that still posed the question of what was he to do with it. The metal was not sentient. He'd checked for brain waves after it had attempted to form four of the things, and discovered that none of them were functional. He'd attempted communication when it had created its own dermas, and found it could not answer back. There was nothing about it indicating it had any form of intelligence. It desired form because it was still filled with charge and old programming, and it could not even harmonize enough with its own components to bring that about. 

It made him curious, a rare and dangerous emotion for him to indulge in. His single optic flicked to the copper chamber. The charge gathering had been successful in part, but he knew now that it was ultimately worthless. The goal had been to create new sparks; yet all he'd observed was that the chamber would fill with charge, smother anything that opposed it, and empty as soon as he attempted to gather it. 

Sparks, it seemed, were not as easy to synthesize as he’d hoped. No one in history had previously managed to pull it off, not without aid from Vector Sigma, and the computer would not speak to him. Had it responded to his requests, they would never have need for new soldiers again. But the computer had been silent for many years now, and he proposed it would be silent for many more. 

More research was needed to ensure that his spark experiments could be successful. In the meantime, he would need to find a use for the metal before him. 

He crossed his arms behind him and watched as the metal formed the skeletal structure of an arm and hand. It rose up, grasping at the air, then curled its servos in as if it was holding a blaster. Moments later, it melted back into its source. 

The action gave him an idea. The metal was alive. It remembered what its shape had been. Perhaps it could remember its function as well. 

They were always in need of new soldiers. 

The issue came from just where he might get new sparks from. The Seeker factories were always an option, but they had been shut down for many kilocycles now, and the precious frozen sparks they’d once housed had been lost. 

He supposed he could always capture a few Autobots alive, but that required cooperation from the Rain Makers along with the use of force that was not lethal. Neither was likely considering his present situation. Furthermore, any spark he harvested belonging to an Autobot always ran the risk of recalling its past and turning on him. 

He needed fresh sparks, sparks that would not question his orders or their place in the world. 

There was no time like the present, then. 

Leaving the metal to writhe, Shockwave exited the Distillery, emerging onto a circular catwalk that coiled around the HQ’s elevator. 

Hidden in the depths of the Decepticon base, P1U70 was one of the many secrets that hung around the elevator shaft. The ‘lab’ consisted of a series of catwalks, each snaking around several different levels, just barely high enough to accommodate a bot the size of Ultra Magnus. They coiled atop one another like a serpent slithering up the walls, connected by thin staircases. 

Dozens of passageways branched out from the catwalks, leading to sealed chambers nestled within the walls. Only one or two lead to the elevator itself. Looking up, one’s optics saw lights that ascended for miles. Looking down, one could see only darkness.

A fall, surely, would mean death for anyone. 

He ignored this as he crossed to a chamber marked with a symbol indicating cryogenesis. A warning blared into his systems as he connected with the keypad, ordering the door to open: 

WARNING: FREEZING TEMPERATURES WITHIN. DO NOT ENTER FREEZER AREAS WITHOUT ADEQUATE PROTECTION. AVERAGE LIFE EXPECTANCY WITHOUT PPE: 12 MINUTES. 

The door opened, and he was greeted with the sight of a cryogenesis lab. One of his many designs, it was a square room with a terminal at the back and viewing windows on both sides. Though they were each frosted from the sheer cold contained within, even from his position in the entrance chamber, he could make out the large metallic incubators in each. 

On the left were individual pods, each holding a fossilized piece of an ancient creature. Attempts to harvest and clone the CNA from them had been unsuccessful thus far, and the war efforts had seen these pieces returned to their stasis. Alongside them were several paused experiments of his own, strangely shaped embryonic creatures that would appear as freakish to the average Cybertronian. 

But on the right was a sight any Cybertronian could understand. Contained within small glass orbs were dozens of glowing sparks. They came in a range of colors, and each was unique. 

They were special. Shockwave had been collecting unique sparks for many years now, with the sole purpose of eventual experimentation. What of a spark could grant its owner unique abilities? What of a spark decided size, shape, and power?

The ones before him had been specially picked out by him. He looked through the viewing window, determining just which one he might use. 

There was a red one whose core was black. There was a blue one who shone far too brightly. There was a small purple one, pulsing weakly. Amongst them all, resting in a special casing designed to contain its radiation, a large green spark beat. 

The blue one. He would start with the least unique first. That way, if he lost the spark, it would be no major loss. 

Crossing the room, Shockwave accessed the computer terminal at the very end, ordering it to retrieve the spark he’d selected. It pulled up a diagram of the dozens contained within. He selected the blue one, and turned to watch the machinery in the chamber activate. 

A mechanical arm mounted to the ceiling powered to life, lowering itself towards one of the incubators. Code was exchanged between the two pieces of machinery, lights appearing on the latter before it opened with a hiss. The arm retrieved the spark with all the gentleness of a mechanic and retreated into the ceiling, where a series of tubes worked to transport it safely into a pneumatic tube. 

Moments later, the glass was lowered into his waiting servos. He accepted it and turned to leave, pausing only when a sudden flash from the incubators caught his attention. 

Of the four sparks surrounding the point one percenter, the bottom one, a twinned, white structure, was shaking erratically. Its glass looked ready to break at any moment.   

He added ‘equip additional protections to the incubators’ to his to-do list and exited the lab. 

----

There wasn't a single thing about her situation that Channel liked. Being surrounded by her fellow Autobots? Awful. Currently facing a lifetime exile from every Autobot populated area of Cybertron? Worse. Paired up with the Decepticon who'd attempted to murder her best friend and assigned a mission to hunt down the sparkeater he'd been trying to protect? 

If some kind of comedy hadn't been made about her life yet, then surely, some camera bot out there was jumping at the idea. Her recent bad luck had been legendary. 

At least she'd had one stroke of good luck. Puncture had been an idiot, separating Uptick's brain from his head for use controlling him. The body she'd found had almost had its life chord severed, its brain half buried in the sand on which it laid. 

But almost meant there was a chance. And with no resistance, she'd managed to connect to him just in time. 

His spark was still warm. She couldn't find his EM field, she couldn't connect to his mind. But his spark was still warm. And with her own systems to ensure upkeep of his body, his spark had remained warm. 

It was the only reason she'd been caught. 

Her plan had been to beeline for Autobot City and get him on life support, then lay low, surreptitiously monitoring him until he was back to full health. Whatever happened to Puncture, the Seeker, or Luster, she couldn't care less. All she'd had to do was land Uptick in Autobot City and ensure he was admitted. 

What had happened had been anything but that. She'd run into the Aerialbots halfway through her race across the sea, and they'd recognized Uptick immediately. Under the threat of an arrest she was guided back to Autobot City to answer for his previous actions, and the moment they'd realized it was her, not him, the situation had gone from bad to worse. Prye, that annoying Prowl-wannabe, had ordered her taken into custody indefinitely, and immediately sent word to Cybertron of her presence on Earth. A single Earth day later she'd received word Ultra Magnus himself was on her case. 

She was cooked. And when she'd asked if they could at least admit Uptick to their medical bay, she'd been informed that their medical facilities on Earth weren't sufficient for the injuries he'd sustained. She'd have to have her case reviewed and her transfer request approved before she could be sent out. 

It was a rush request, and granted, they'd done the paperwork and pulled it off incredibly quickly compared to the usual crawl of pre-war transfer requests. But it had still been days of anxiously waiting in her cell, asking her fellow Autobots for situation updates, for help, and for freedom. They were kind to her, as they always were, but she was still a prisoner, albeit one no one wanted to see behind bars. 

First Aid had been an angel to her, at least, visiting every day to check Uptick's vitals and ensure her that, as long as she remained attached to him, his functions would continue as normal. Better was the news that her spark, being similarly charged to his, could temporarily sustain him if his functions did fail. She held onto that knowledge desperately, praying that once she'd returned to Cybertron, everything would resolve. 

Magnus was understanding. The last time she'd spoken with him (which, granted, had been hundreds of kilocycles ago), he'd promised to put in good words for her when they found Optimus again. There had been few bots she felt understood her quite as well as Magnus, strangely enough—something about being small and underestimated, he seemed to relate to (how, exactly, she had no clue, considering he was massive). She'd been confident, at least in the beginning, that even if she was to be in great trouble for breaking her contract, Magnus would at least grant her some mercy. 

Well. If what he'd offered her was mercy, she was terrified of what punishment might be. Something was wrong with Ultra Magnus and she was sure of it—of all the commanding bots, she knew he would never willingly send his soldiers to their deaths. Over the war many had grown accustomed to missions with survival rates of less than fifty percent, but under Ultra Magnus, that number at least dropped to thirty. She'd known plenty of bots who had served under and regarded him as their favorite. Many assumed he'd inherit the Matrix if Optimus passed. 

The Ultra Magnus who had offered her freedom at the cost of hunting down two sparkeaters couldn't be the same bot who once let the youngest recruits call him "Uncle Magnus". Something was wrong with him. It had to be. 

We will not separate you, he'd promised. She'd asked him when he intended to admit Uptick to their medical facilities. And his response had been so cold she'd grown speechless:

It would be for the better if he stays with you. 

Her fists tightened as Kup marched her down the hall, blaster relaxed in his servos. He knew she wouldn't cause problems. 

"It ain’t him," she muttered. "That can't be him."

"Who?"

"Ultra Magnus," she spat. "That can't be him. He’d never say something like that." 

Kup shrugged. "Sure looks like him. Sure sounds like him. Sure commands like him. Been a while since you last saw him, bot's change." 

"Not that much," she growled, looking back at him. "Do you have to follow behind me? You know I'm not goin' to try anythin'."

"Protocol and all that," he said, yet still quickened his pace, joining her at her side. "Magnus's been a stickler for it recently."

"He never was before." She shook her helm. "What happened in the kilocycles I was gone?"

"The usual. Bots getting shot, bots shooting back, recruits goin' missing, new kids signing on not knowin’ what they're in for." He sighed. "You see a couple hundred die under your watch, you change. Mags ain't immune to that."

They passed by another Autobot in the hall, who waved cheerfully at them. Then they turned a corner and stopped before a set of locked double doors. 

The weapons vault. Kup turned his back to her and tapped his credentials into the keypad. They both stepped inside. 

If she wanted to, she could transform, stand up, grab the nearest object, and use it to break her way out of here. Magnus knew that. Kup knew that. The stasis cuffs Uptick was wearing were truly just for show. 

"Take your pick," Kup announced, throwing out a hand and adjusting his cygar. "Anything you want, I'm sure Mags'll approve of."

She didn't even bother making a show of picking anything, just beelined for the rocket blaster. "This one," she said. "And this one." 

A rocket blaster and a stasis gun. One to stop them in their tracks, one to blast them off their legs. Literally. 

Kup watched her boredly. "Right, I'll let Mags know. Come on, back to the brig." 

They walked together back through the base. She kept stealing glances at him, even though he wouldn't look her in the optic. Finally, she was led to her cell, which, despite her reputation, had no additional security precautions on it. 

She entered it without resistance, turning to watch as Kup activated the laser bars and then leaned against the wall, calmly smoking as he stared just beyond her, not at her. 

Silence hung between the two of them. She sat down, fiddling with Uptick's servos, still not quite used to their size. She wasn't quite used to any of it yet, and she didn't think she'd be for a while--not that she should have to be, considering this was temporary at best.

"...Kup," she said at last, raising her optics in an attempt to meet his, "do you really think it's still him?"

He still wouldn't meet her gaze. "Has to be. Who else could it?"

"Don't the ‘cons have hologram tech? Hound did. Is it possible--"

"Yer lettin' paranoia get the best'a you, Channel. We'd know."

"But his attitude...the way he speaks, the way he acts, hell, even the way he looks at ya!" She frowned. "It ain’t him. He ain’t what I remember."

"Bot's change," he dismissed, taking a long drag. "Includin' Magnus." He vented, sending smoke over his chassis. "But between you, me, and the fence post...I don't like this. A Decepticon, I get. You?" He shook his head, scowling. "You don't deserve this, Channel."

A tiny smile tugged at her dermas. "Thanks, Kup. Say…the footage we–”

“Can’t talk about it, remember?”

“I know, I know. But can I see it again? There’s a couple’a things interestin’ me. The lack’a audio for one. We ain’t that behind in tech.”

Kup’s optics stole a quick glance in both directions before he muttered something. She just barely picked up on it:

Link me.

An odd request, but one she could abide by. By linking, however, did he mean EM fields, or her power? The Wavescape was hell on Cybertron thanks to the high density of bots populating it. On Earth, with only the primitive signals of human radio to transmit over long distances, she’d been free as a soaring Seeker. Here on Cybertron, however, the sea of the Wavescape was infinitely rougher, making long distance communication almost impossible and short distance communication rocky at best. 

Kup tapped his pede impatiently, and judging from his lack of movement, she assumed he wanted her to use her power. Otherwise, surely, he’d have brushed his EM field against hers. 

She let out a low hum and leaned against one of the walls, appearing as if she was nonchalantly resting, before focusing and dropping herself into the Wavescape. 

It was, as she knew it would be, cacophonous. Even if her body was only within EM field range of one bot, in the Wavescape she could hear the signals of everyone within the base. Dozens of different inputs hit her at once:

My pede’s itchy. 

It’s boring today. 

When’s the next season of In Stars And Moonlight coming out?

How many times are they going to confiscate my damn blaster!

Is this really how much Energon they’re giving us now?

Rodimus Prime is kinda hot…

A triple changer cog? Why does he need a triple changer cog? 

It doesn’t have sound for a reason.

There! She latched onto the signal she recognized as belonging to Kup, pulling herself into his field. It had easily been a cyber-week since she’d overworked herself, but her processor still felt warm from the simple action alone. Giving herself a moment to rest in his field, she sent a confirmation of her safe arrival, then an immediate query: 

Why doesn’t it have sound?

Names. One of ‘em, the ‘sparkeaters’ as we aren’t supposed to call em, has a name. 

What is it?

She tried to force herself not to accidentally share that she already knew one of them. Uptick had been suspected as responsible for the disappearance of the sparkeater in Autobot City, but they couldn’t prove anything, and she certainly hadn’t peeped about it. It was for the better that no one knew about Luster. He was her fault, and if she was found guilty of protecting and repairing a sparkeater…

Well, she was in deep enough trouble as is. It was all she could to apologize to Uptick by finishing what he’d started. 

We’re up in the air about the skinny one–the skeleton one, you saw, with tentacles and all. He talks, the other one doesn’t. And he called it Spark Storm. 

Spark Storm. She didn’t recognize the name. 

Sounds like a Rain Maker. You don’t think they’ve made more of ‘em?

Hell if I know. 

He took a deep in-vent through his cygar. 

But whatever it is, it ain’t a normal Cybertronian. Some kinda frame thief, I think. Every time we’ve seen ‘em, it’s always different. All that connects ‘em is the lack of a faceplate.

The lack of a faceplate. Her encounter with the Seeker on the island replayed in her mind, though she quickly suppressed it. 

Good to know, Kup. Thanks. Be lettin’ go now. 

He gave her a goodbye signal, and she promptly exited his field, floating momentarily as she prepared to return to her body. 

They don’t have a lot of triple changers, do they?

The voice gave her pause. She’d heard it earlier before and chosen to ignore it, but it was louder now. Louder…and familiar. She could almost swear she’d heard it before. 

No. Triple changers are excellent tools of war. They’re Autobots, they weren’t built for war. 

Her systems flared with warnings at the sound of that. This voice was feminine–and definitely familiar.

So…is that why he wants this one so badly, then? He’s the best shot they’ve got at defeating…us?

I don’t imagine. It’s just a T-Cog, not a spark. This won’t kill him, just incapacitate him. Besides, we’ve got Skyrend and Ion Storm. You think anyone here is enough to keep them both down?

…right, of course. Because this is just a T-Cog, I don’t have to kill him, do I?

I think he’d prefer if you did.

She dropped out of the Wavescape in a rush, helm pounding from the sudden retreat. Kup had shifted positions, his back to her cell. She rose to her feet, almost tripped, and braced against the wall as lightning bolts of pain shot through her helm. 

“Kup–” she gritted out, venting in pain. “Frag, Kup! Where’s Springer?!”

—---------------------

It was one prison to the next. Puncture was beginning to notice a pattern. She'd gone from the Insecticon Ship to the Marshall Islands, from the Marshall Islands to Autobot City, from Autobot City to this Autobot Base. Before she'd been on the Insecticon ship she had frequented Decepticon HQ; before that, the Cybertronian Underground; before that, The Pit. And none of those places, once she was stuck in them, had she been permitted to leave. 

Whether amongst enemies or allies, she was only beginning to notice now just how trapped she was in everything. 

And speaking of being trapped, she was quite literally trapped on an operating table, with her limbs, just as they'd been before, strapped down. A monitor next to her showed her vitals on screen—stable—which the medic bot preparing to perform her operation was occupied with. Springer stood on the other side of her, still holding his rifle, still looking at her like she was a particularly stubborn stain he couldn't wait to get rid of.

Perhaps she'd been a bit too judgmental of the medics in Autobot City. Yes, they watched her like a hawk, but they hadn't deployed a guard right next to her and the courtesy they'd shown certainly wasn't felt here. If she had an ounce of remorse, maybe she'd ask if she could phone First Aid to tell him thank you for not pointing a blaster at her head. 

But there wasn't any going back now. It wasn't like she could change how she'd acted, and considering her reputation, she couldn't change how they all thought of her. She'd worked hard for that fear factor and by Primus she was not about to squander it. 

Sparks and Struts were still watching her, disapproval evident in their gazes. She ignored them. 

"Everything looks good," the medic announced. "I won't need to induce stasis for this." He crossed the medical bay, heading for the parts storage. 

Her operation was occurring on the south end of the medical bay, away from any exits. To her left was her guard dog and monitor, to her right, two carts with medical supplies laid out. The medical bay was significantly larger than the one in Autobot City, and sprawled out before her were rows of beds, none of which were occupied. Along one wall ran cabinets and monitors, broken by occasional doors. Dividers stood between the beds, hiding their empty frames. 

She didn’t get the courtesy of a divider or curtain, of course. 

The medic bot returned a few kliks later, carrying a familiar looking black arm. "You're real lucky, Puncture,” he said as he approached, “Brainstorm wanted to disassemble this to figure out how its cloaking worked. Perceptor's the only reason he didn't."

She rolled her optics. "Am I supposed to be grateful you decided to store my severed arm for study as opposed to disassembling it? You're going to do the same to me when I offline, aren’t you?"

"Not our fault you chose the wrong side," Springer jabbed. "Clinic, how long will it take to reattach?"

"Give or take about two vorns. If you have anywhere to be, you should probably head there before I begin." He placed Puncture's arm on a gurney next to her and bent to retrieve his tools from a cart. 

Springer adjusted his grip on his rifle and shifted in place slightly but otherwise stayed put. 

No anesthetic was used, though she couldn't say she exactly expected it. Clinic started with welding, opening her shoulder's metal up delicately to expose its tender protoform to that of her arm's. From there he connected the two, holding them in place until sufficient bonding had occurred. Then he began work on her wires and tubing, connecting each individually before welding them shut. 

With each new nerve connected, she felt a white hot pain shoot up her shoulder and into her chassis, which quickly burned itself out and became a dull ache. By the thirtieth one, she wasn't sure how many more she could take. Her sharpened, deadly glossa scraped the inside of her intake, drawing forth her own energon as she grit against the pain. 

Something on the monitor besides her suddenly lit up enough for it to beep. Clinic paused in connecting her energon tubes and frowned. 

"Your stress levels are high," he commented. "I can stop for a bit to let you recuperate, or I can give you a shot of adrenaline and we keep going."

She wanted this over now, damnit, but Springer spoke before she could.

"A shot of adrenaline could see her escape. Give her a few kliks, she’ll be fine."

She glared at him. Clinic obeyed, sealing off the energon tube he'd been working on and wiping his servos on a rag. 

"Give her two vorns and an Energon infusion," he said. "Once I start again it'll be about twenty kliks, so it's important I'm not disturbed again."

When neither of them moved, he frowned at Springer. "I was talking to you."

He raised an optical ridge. "You want me to give her an energon infusion?"

"Do you see anyone else around here who can do it?" 

"Don't you have a nurse?"

"I do in theory, but practice tends to show that she's almost always on deployment." He put his servos on his hips. "Since you and yours just can't resist trying to solve the recent attacks by shooting at everything. Anyways, my servos are tired, and I’d like a moment to recharge them without having to worry about my patient offlining.”

If she wasn't in so much pain, she'd grin smugly. It made sense—the medical bay at this base was large, enough to accommodate over fifty Autobots at once with staff for at least half of them, but the only bot she saw running around in it currently was Clinic. The beds were all empty, though more than a few had Energon stains on them, and the service areas were all unoccupied despite their precious cargo.

This base had to be very new. Very new, and barely staffed. They were doing quite a bit to show her that they had power over Cybertron, but the more she looked around, the more she concluded they were bluffing. 

And if the guerilla attacks were anything to go off of, her fellow 'cons were likely fighting back. 

Springer looked just a tiny bit sheepish for a single moment. "Fine. Where do you keep them?"

They crossed the medical bay and disappeared momentarily into one of the several backrooms. Silence fell over her. Puncture shifted uncomfortably, trying to pull herself free of her restraints again and failing. By her pedes, Struts and Sparks watched silently. 

"What do you want," she growled at them. "If you're trying to make me feel guilty, you're not. Scram already."

They said nothing, but Sparks raised a single claw, pointing at the ceiling. She followed it and looked up, seeing only orange tiles. 

"What?"

The low scrppppp of claws on metal found its way to her audials. Her optics widened. 

The tile just above her dropped a few shavings of metal, a tiny hole beginning to form in it. 

The sound of pedes and a door opening drowned out the noise as Clinic and Springer returned. The medic was holding a bottled Energon patch, which the other was looking at almost confusedly. 

"Fine, I'll demonstrate," Clinic said, moving to her side. "It's easy to apply, all you have to do is--"

As he spoke, he reached over Puncture's chassis and opened the patch, its pink contents glowing brightly as they were released. Before he could apply them, however, a small shard of broken metal suddenly dropped down onto his helm, clacking as it fell to the floor. 

Clinic looked up just in time to take a tentacle straight to the face. 

The tile exploded, scattering metal everywhere as a silver creature dropped from it, slamming down onto Puncture's chest. Pain exploded over her, earning it a hiss as she jerked back. A clawed foot slammed down on her freshly attached arm and silver claws scraped the edge of her chassis as the creature fought for balance. 

She recognized those claws. Despite the pain pulsing like lightning in her chassis, she found it in her to gasp. 

Before the creature could move a pink bolt knocked it off her, sending it clattering to the floor. The shriek of claws on metal screamed as it scrambled, skittering between the beds and staying low to the floor. Springer immediately moved to Clinic's side, who was holding his face, Energon oozing out from the deep gouge across it. 

"Get out of here!" He commanded, training his rifle to the sound of the creature's skittering. "Alert the others!" 

"What about Pu--"

"FORGET ABOUT HER!" 

She hissed at him in response and was ignored. Clinic cast her a single look before beelining for the nearest exit. The dividers across the room suddenly shook as the creature moved between them. 

"Come on you ugly fragger," Springer muttered, gripping his rifle tighter as he took careful steps towards the movements. 

A shriek suddenly sounded, reverberating through the room and ringing in her head. Momentarily, Sparks and Struts disappeared as the noise overloaded her systems with an emotion she couldn't feel. The result was that she froze up, her systems attempted a manual override, and the monitor beside her began to beep loudly. 

Springer had frozen in place like he’d been shot with a stasis gun. The creature suddenly clambered up a divider, aided by its tentacles, and sprang off it, launching onto him. He let out a grunt of pain as he hit the floor, the rifle knocked from his servos. 

Tentacles whipped as they dug into his plating, their clawed tips crackling with electricity. But the creature didn’t tear into his chassis like she’d seen it do in the video. Instead, it opened its claws, holding them in that position for just a moment as it seemed to contemplate its next action. 

"SPRINGER!" 

The exit of the medical bay suddenly flooded with Autobots–she recognized Kup and Channel (oh, she got to lose her stasis cuffs?!). They poured in, aiming for the creature. 

It shrieked again, freezing them in their tracks, and jammed its claws into Springer’s side. Energon welled up around the silver daggers, pouring onto the floor. 

But Springer was no longer immobile, and the thing atop him no longer had the element of surprise. Gritting his dentae, he grabbed its skinny arm, and as if it wasn’t currently servos deep in his side, tore it off him with ease. As if it weighed nothing, he threw the thing across the medical bay, slamming it into the wall. 

Pink sprayed out of his side as he stood, moving a servo to it. The creature, dazed, stood still as he staggered towards it, stooping to grab his rifle. 

Kup moved first, breaking free of his paralysis. Without hesitation he fired, unleashing a dozen blasts onto the creature. Clouds of blaster fire arose as they connected, and the creature let out a different cry–one of agony. 

That was the kind she was accustomed to. Springer joined in, discharging his rifle in the direction of where the creature was, the clouds quickly obscuring and gunshots deafening it. 

Two tentacles suddenly shot up, piercing clean through one of the ceiling tiles. In a blur of silver, the creature leaped into the ceiling, trailing energon behind it as it fled. Kup and Springer fired after it, though it quickly disappeared into the overhead darkness. 

For a moment it was quiet again. Then Springer hissed with pain, and the two were on him in a second. 

"Yeesh, what a wound!" Kup grimaced. “Kid, you need to lie down, now!”

“I’m fine!” He protested. “We need to go after that thing!

"You’re bleedin’ out!" Channel scolded, grabbing his shoulder. “Get on a gurney, now! Where’s Clinic?!”

It figured they'd care a lot more about him than they would her, though it did slightly hurt to be ignored. After all, it wasn’t like her chassis was throbbing with pain or anything. But beyond the pain and the irritation pounding in her head, there was something more bothering her:

The claws that the creature had. They were Sparkripper’s. She’d recognize them anywhere. Large, curved, silver, and with a longer middle digit than the others. 

Sparkripper had died over four million kilocycles ago, when the war was just beginning. She’d been there to witness his execution. His parts should have been long recycled. How was it they were back?

“Unbind me,” she growled, and when the Autobot’s ignored her, yelled. “Didn’t you hear?! Get me up!” 

They all glared at her, irritation in their gazes. She didn’t care.

“Let me free. I’ve got an insect alt mode.” Her vision trailed back to the hole in the ceiling. “I’m going after that thing.” 

[bishopcoins]

  🪙 slug zoophilia

slug zoophilia: a flag for the romantic or sexual attraction to slugs, both land slugs, sea slugs, and semi-slugs (gastropods with shells too small to retract into).

a flag for paraphiles.

🥬original flag requested by anonymous

[image id: flag with 7 unevenly sized horizontal stripes, in the colors umber, teal, ochre, yellow, ochre, teal, and umber. in the center is a grey-green slug, curled in the shape of a heart, outlined in brown. /end id]

  📥 requests open!   📬 for anonymous   🔗 hd vector

🧺——— designed by red bishop council

[heavyironsbasement]

//OOC\\

Hello again. It’s your chronically online pal... This is my first time navigating Tumblr, so we’ll see how it goes…

While I’m young, it’s much appreciated to be treated with respect! ^^

//Roleplay Boundaries\\

1. Keep everything SFW - While Idc about the content I’m sent. There are limits, and I want to keep my teammates comfortable.

2. This is a RP blog - just a silly guy wanting some silly fun. Please don’t think I am the real Heavy Iron.

3. PLEASE don’t ship any of the cardbots with anyone in any of the rp blogs. We understand and support your ships, though - it feels as if shipping each other together. (And I one of the older members! No no, no thank you. We are a mixed bag of minors and adults.)

4. Please, have fun! We will be in character as we interact with you! We will answer as fast as possible. (Timezones and other things will get in the way, so be patient).

//Side note\\

If you have any questions OOC, please feel free to directly message me about it or from under a post (clarify it as OOC).

By the way…

We usually post once every 4-6 hours!

All are welcome to interact with us and the crew, multiversal, OC’s, other fandoms! ^^

// SOME BACKGROUND (SPOILERS) \\

Heavy Iron was formerly the worst outlaw of planet machnia! This 2 part combiner unit (Semi and detachable trailer), had managed to escape the destruction of his home and despite attempting to terraform earth, he was eventually sealed by the metal breath holder and turned into an ally...

Currently, Heavy Iron is going through his redemption arc! He’s still passive aggressive… though, willing to throw hands when needed. This… isn’t an excuse for my being canadianly polite.

He's on neutral terms with everyone. Although he does have a grude against his Nemesis Black Hook.

//Teammates\\

@blue-policerobot - Blue Cop @thelatinodancerbot - Mega Trucker @unlicensedmedicalcardbot - Mega Ambler @shadowx-ishere1 - Shadow X @k1ttykatwhisperer - Dexter @gracefulbountyhunter - Fleta Z @themilkywayofficial - Customer Service @bustergall0n - Buster Gallon @capta1nstreasure - Black Hook @heavyironsbasement <- You are here. @the-crimson-flash - Red Blitz @sky-champion - Cielo @thedrillingmole - Rock Crush @thefriendlyshark- Deep Bite @b1asttrain - Blast Train @thechivalrousskygallop - Sky Gallop @plebec-invisk8r - Flash Vector @ex0tic-r4cer - Spark Beat @flamen0va - Flame Nova @shell-shock-ed - Shellshocked @record-scratches - Record Scratch @cosmic-void-themagician - Cosmic Void @vagabund-rp - Vagabund @da-lavender-sniper - Lavender Aegis @askyellowjacket - Yellow Jacket @heavyiron- Tina (GIVE ME BACK MY TAG, TINA) @peppermintpez - Phalia

[blueikeproductions]

Onyx Prime is one I have a semi complicated feeling towards.

The Prime of Beasts, and borrowing his name from an obscure Beast Wars character, he’s meant to explain why some Transformers have Beast Modes. It’s not … super clear if this includes the various Mechanimals like Laserbeak and Ravage, or Cyberverse’s various menagerie.

But presumably it does, as that would mean the deer bots seen in ONE are related to Onyx too, as they’re the only non Prime Beast Moded robot. ONE Airachnid’s toy gives her a space spider Beast Mode, but she only turns into a space helicopter Vehicle Mode in the film, so it’s unknown if she’s a Triple Changer or if her Beast Mode was an early script idea.

ONE Onyx, like Alchemist, Quintus, Micronus, Vector, Nexus, Prima, & Solus, doesn’t really get to do anything except die by the hands of Sentinel & the Quints. His Cog is donated to the main heroes, but who got it isn’t clear. I think Megatron did because of his beastly nature at that point, but I also think it fits Elita pretty well.

His design is a hybrid of his IDW and Aligned designs, taking more from the IDW design with the colors and beast kibble.

An interesting quirk is the ONE design borrows heavily from the semi confusion of his IDW design. Oynx is supposed to be a centaur, but IDW artists opted to have him stand on his hind legs, with his fore legs dangling awkwardly.

This would be turned into foreshadowing, to imply Oynx wasn’t what he seemed, revealing that he was actually Shockwave due to comic book time paradox reasons.

The awkward posture was due to Shockwave wearing Onyx’s corpse like a Pretender Shell, being unable to copy the original centaur look. Hilariously the ONE design foregoes the centaur look altogether, but nothing has clarified on if the centaur is his actual Beast Mode, or if he turns into a different creature in a BM Savage Noble fashion… His TFONE model implies he might Transform into a space dragon, or if we want to meet half way on the centaur idea, a space griffin.

As such, Onyx’s only major role has been IDW, and it technically wasn’t even him. The actual IDW Onyx was a kind shepherd who Shockwave killed after landing on prehistoric Cybertron following his failed Dark Cybertron scheme.

Pretending to be Onyx, Shockwave guaranteed events on Cybertron played out as he knew them to, as well as raising a Beast army (from all the Beast Wars characters in their most unflattering role) and securing the mysterious magical Talisman as part of a new scheme involving Unicron.

It’s always bothered me though that the one place Onyx would’ve fit well as a central antagonist would’ve been RiD15 because of it’s heavy use of animal type Decepticons. It would’ve made more sense if Oynx was the one orchestrating the crash of the prison ship, but Steeljaw makes Oynx’s mission his own: to turn Earth into a home world for Decepticons, rather than beast bots. Oynx isn’t exactly nice here either, causing problems for the Autobots, because he has a chip on his shoulder over vehicle type Transformers due to problems from his past. Something like that might’ve been better than hyping up The Fallen, causing the same problem TFP had by using Unicron too soon.

With the upcoming CyberWorld possibly returning to a RiD15 Beast theme with its Decepticons (while the Autobots remember they have more Dinobots besides Grimlock), maybe Onyx Prime has a role there?

[pokeamifeatherstar]

Some CutieMark I did (I reaaally like doing them) some are for my redesign of Canon or semi-canon Characters, other for my characters, and some are gift or commission I did for my friends.

They are made in vector drawing (Mostly with Affinity Designer, except for the Mane 6 ones I did back when I still have Illustrator for School)

If anyone is interested, I am usually around €5 per CutieMark.