#lightjet

[flyingprivate]

HondaJet 'Echelon'

[notsodailycake]

HAHA, little doodle I did for @saltynsassy31 and @yayadrawsthingz role-play.

Yes, it is very much ship. The two here belong to mine and Sassy's au "Project Lightjet," but the rp was a crossover au between her version of our au (we have 3 versions of PLJ, 2 which are separate between us and one in which we share) and yaya's au, I was just allowed to read the rp and got inspired :]

Yall are free to come up with uhm, whatever you want for this ngl. I was very embarrassed to share this, but Sassy insisted, bc there isn't enough blurve content and this could very much be something someone might enjoy, or be inspired by, and we'd maybe push for more of them. She might be right, so here, something that was gonna be left to my unshared file of drawings

Tho to be clear, I am absolutely proud of how this turned out, simple doodle that I just wanted to test out some stuff with, turned out great, and I love and can't stop looking at. Just the subject of the drawing slightly embarrasses me, but fuck it, be cringe be free, am I right?

[saltynsassy31]

A design I did for mine and my sister's au Shockwave!

Idk what possessed me to be able to draw him cuz I STRUGGLE with drawing robots yet somehow I came out with this.

Extremely proud and obsessed with it, I want to slap it in everything I do and like, commission him, or just, idk! See him more!

[ladydaybreaker]

EVERYONE HUSH TRON HAS A THIRD MOVIE COMING OUT!!

[drunk-on-starlight]

I love all the small games tron has these days but an open world rpg style could be very cool.

[kafkasapartment]

Lounge Painting #1, Gila Bend, Arizona, 1983. Wim Wenders. Lightjet print.

[astercontrol]

IRC stands for Internet Relay Chat.

Inside the computer system, this means the programs participate in a fun little Relay Race to transmit your messages.

Relay races usually involve passing a baton. Owing to the function of batons inside the computer world, this means the relay race is a form of triathlon 

The runner carrying the baton passes it to the lightcyclist, who activates it for the cycling portion of the race. Who then trades it in for a lightjet baton to relay to the pilot, who completes the final aeronautics portion.

[everythingcounts2007remaster]

I found Tron Catalyst deeply underwhelming on a lot of levels. Mike Bithell has some neat ideas, but is a poor writer. Each time I leap into the indigo waters of his Tron games, I shatter my shins because it's only ankle deep. 

I think it annoys me because he tries to make something deeper. And it's not. I hate the shallow-ass way he does "diversity." You need more to your character than their minority traits. We learn nothing about Exo. Her traits are: Black, woman, courier, protagonist (and I got to flirt with a woman one time before it was permanently erased). It's like Exo didn't even exist before booting up the game.

Does she like her job? Is she saving up to go elsewhere? What were her goals before becoming a time goddess? Does she buy into the doomsday glitch rumors that everyone else seems to know? What did she think of Core before getting arrested -- maybe lukewarm, or uninformed, or trusting? Maybe she already harbored disdain for them since outlawing lightcycles; as a courier I imagine that was quite a blow. Does she have no connections prior to the game? You telling me she's never heard of Automata or Reset? It would have brought SO much more depth with just that simple change: "Oh yeah, I've heard of [your group here], they're [incorrect boilerplate opinion here that gets more nuanced over the course of the game]" or whatever. She meets everyone for the first time enough times that there could have been some, I dunno, character development there beyond "yeah I've done this before." Mike Bithell tells me she trusts these programs but he definitely doesn't show me. Surely she's heard of the games at least---maybe experiencing them first hand could have been enlightening. "I thought it was volunteer, they say it's volunteer..." Make her a person, make her someone who exists outside of the viewer/player/reader's eye.

And that's not even touching the boring as hell dialogue. God. Every single sentence is doing exactly one job and it's exactly what it says on the tin. No foreshadowing, no beautifully blended exposition, no worldbuilding except if you explicitly ask for it, nothing. At least we get every single beat for beat goodbye sequence though!! Ugh. If there was any subtext it was solely in Bithell's head and we aren't given access to it.

And I don't believe these things can be blamed on low budget. Games like Night in the Woods, Tacoma, Gone Home, etc do a masterful amount of worldbuilding and characterization with a fraction of the writing.

I suppose it's easier to list the things I did like about the game:

- lightcycle was fun - i ran into a lot of things but the lightjet was enjoyable - Query's voice - some of the art - that blink-and-you-miss-it container marked kflynn/storage/bin/permanentserver or whatever it was (an ounce of foreshadowing yayyy!!!) - the handful of references to better Tron stories but alas, a nostalgia button push does not a good story make - the antifascist vibes even though the execution was deeply lacking (like seriously crack open any edition of Clarkesworld and you're bound to find a short story pulling it off better)

[killyridols]

god by ed ruscha, 2010, digital lightjet photograph, 35 × 27 centimeters

[thinkingimages]

Amanda Ross-Ho PARROT_MASTER_FINAL, 2010 Lightjet print mounted on acrylic, face mounted with acrylic 84 x 116 1/4 x 2 1/8 in 213.4 x 295.3 x 5.4 cm

[evecolourshock]

Inspired by this compilation of Beck about to/in the middle of beating the shit out of cops...

Beck knows, somewhere in the back of his mind, that picking a fight with authority is a bad idea. Especially now.

But damnit, there's no one here to hold him back, and it is so glitching tempting to just start punching. He might be in the middle of a bar full of red-circuited soldiers - former soldiers? Given Clu's demise due to a badly maintained lightjet Beck totally had nothing to do with? But Pavel is right there and he reckons he could break at least the guy's nose before the others pull him off or take him down.

He hears the rumbling before he sees the Program, and half the bar very deliberately Does Not Flee from Rinzler. Beck stays where he is, mostly out of spite.

The rest is morbid fascination at this point. Anyone who knew Tron even half as well as Beck does can see the remains of the Monitor in the Enforcer, and Rinzler's more Program than monster now his master's gone. On a whim, Beck orders a drink he knows Tron enjoyed from the increasingly nervous bar staff, and slides it over when Rinzler gets close enough to notice it.

He gets a helmet tilt, and looks back calmly. Rinzler seems to shrug, and sits next to him, a slot opening up in the bottom of his helmet so he can drink.

Beck gets the unfortunately hilarious mental image of Rinzler using one of those ridiculous-looking curly straws to sip at his drink, and has to bury a snort in his own glass. Rinzler makes a questioning sound at him, and he waves a hand. "Nothing, it's fine. Just a funny but stupid thought."

He gets what's obviously an eye-roll he's been on the receiving end of enough times for it to have no effect, and Rinzler returns to his drink and relatively companionable silence.

There's a joke in there somewhere, two parts of a Program's legacy hanging out in a bar.

Chatter starts up again, and unfortunately so does Pavel. Beck doesn't even want to know why the Commander starts approaching him - he's been sending minions up all night because ordering drinks is beneath him, and Rinzler is literally sitting right there and clearly doesn't want to be bothered - but Beck just sighs and drops his forehead onto the smooth bartop.

"If there was ever a face that needs punching, it's that one." He grumbles, and gets the distinctive sound of Rinzler choking on his drink and trying not to laugh. "It's not fair - I'm gonna get banned from Mara's paint stash if I get in another bar fight, but he keeps on encroaching on me and just- look at him! Look how smug he is - at that stupid expression making him look like what processes he has have been halved. He's begging to have it wiped off his face."

Rinzler is definitely laughing, clapping Beck on the back once and spooking almost every Program in the room. Beck turns his head so he can see Rinzler better, noting in his peripheries Pavel's sort of. Stopped. And looks more perplexed than usual. "He derezzed a Bit just because he could, you know? He'd barged into the garage, threatened us, and when our Bit started to tell him off slashed his disc clean through it."

Rinzler makes a kind of humming sound, eyeing Pavel more keenly.

"I know, I know, should be thankful it was the Bit and not one of us, but. We liked that Bit. And getting a replacement... even if we could, it wouldn't be right, you know? Wouldn't be our Bit, and that's not fair to the new one."

Rinzler ruffles his hair. It's weird, but familiar at the same time.

"If he starts a fight with me, can you tell - or, not tell. Write, ping, or whatever. Let Mara know I neither started it nor threw the first punch? Self-restraint, and I promise to only break his nose a little. And maybe his jaw if he doesn't shut up."

Rinzler calmly stands up, unfolds - and yep, Beck was right so Zed can suck a Gridbug, Rinzler is Tron's height when he actually stands up and isn't compressing his own code - and puts himself between Pavel and Beck. Considering he's the only Program Beck respects enough to not try and fight around anyway, it's probably a good move in helping keep Beck still in his coworkers' good databanks.

"That works too."

In one of the clearest, most elegant dismissals Beck's seen, Rinzler simply spins Pavel around and shoves him back at the table the Commander claimed, serenely taking his seat next to Beck again.

"Thanks." Beck rests his head against Rinzler's shoulder for a nano or so, and gets Rinzler's arm slung across his shoulders. It's nice - Tron used to do that too, when he felt safe enough to relax and show affection.

Pavel hisses something, because he apparently can't leave well enough alone, and Beck goes eerily still with rage.

"Did you hear, Mechanic?" The Commander jeers after Beck's lack of reaction. "I said-"

"I heard." Beck borrows his vocal tone from Tron. Deceptively light, promising extreme violence. "And next time you insult Rinzler I'm going to break the tables with your face."

It's the first time he's laid out explicitly what he's going to do, after such a comment gets thrown in his direction. He can handle being called an easy charge point, it even used to have a degree of truth to it, but he will not allow an insult to a friend to go unchallenged. Especially not the Program he used to look up to, his mentor and the closest he had to a Creator, who molded him into who he is now.

Pavel looks at him oddly, thrown off-guard. "Which tables?"

"All of them." Rinzler puts a hand on his shoulder, and Beck laces his fingers with the Enforcer's for a moment before brushing it off. "No." He murmurs. "Not after what he said about you, or what he's implying about us. He doesn't get away with that this time."

Rinzler gently turns Beck to face him, trying to calm him down. Beck chuckles softly despite the fury simmering under his skin. It's such a role reversal. "I know, vengeance won't solve anything, even if it feels good in the short run." He recites back teasingly.

Rinzler makes a pleased sound, and-

Beck swears those orange circuits flicker white. Doubly so that the tetromino winks out - the stealth suit's true appearance, visible for a moment. His eyes sharpen, but his attention is drawn away almost as fast when Pavel approaches again.

"You reckon you can beat me, Mechanic?" Pavel taunts, and Beck shrugs.

"I've fought better warriors than you. And worse enemies." Tron, repeatedly through training. Tesler. Paige. Dyson once, though he was lucky to survive.

And Cyrus. The only Program he's fought to derez before. He barely survived that one too, Cyrus himself a formidable opponent and the bombs he favoured equipped with a deadman switch - if Cyrus was derezzed, they went off, and Beck hadn't quite got far enough away to escape the blast.

Pavel's certainly above average, and unpredictable, but... the ones Beck's won against were in leagues of their own.

"I could beat anyone in this room. Including that bloatware Enforcer you're palling around with, Mechanic." Pavel laughs, looks away, and tries to follow it up with a hit he thinks Beck isn't expecting.

The disc halts inches from his face, Pavel's wrist creaking under his hand. Beck raises an eyebrow at the stunned Commander, stepping smoothly around so he can grab the other by the back of his armour and flip him through the table on his left.

The solid veneer shatters, and so does a good portion of Pavel's cheek.

"I told you - insult Rinzler again, and I'll break the tables with your face." Beck tells him calmly - like Tron would. Getting angry means your opponent's in your head and can play you if they choose to. Being calm... you're in control, and your opponent's unsettled.

Rinzler makes a laughing sound, raspy and crackling but unmistakeable, and Beck smiles.

Unfortunately, as he knows, Pavel doesn't know when to leave well enough alone, and Beck has to reacquaint the Commander with the floor. It becomes... a bit of a blur after that.

Later, Beck will appreciate the irony in Rinzler having to pull him off a battered, beaten Pavel, will groan good-naturedly at the repair tab he's accumulated (five tables, three chairs, and a window), will pull the kicked-Bit look on Mara and bring the time he's banned from the paints drastically down from a full millicycle to five work-cycles because he didn't start this fight (just decisively finished it).

Right now, Beck only barely avoids outing himself as the Renegade, because he's got too much pent-up anger to use that economical yet showy style distinctive to the persona. He's all but wholly focused on punching Pavel through the nearest hard surface - most of the time, it's the floor. "You. Do. Not. In. Sult. My. Friends." Beck seethes, accentuating each syllable with a punch to Pavel's face.

He can hear Rinzler's growl thrumming behind him, dimly through the haze of every satisfying thud of his fist, but the Program in his peripheries has white circuits and Beck honestly can't tell if he's hallucinating or not. Wouldn't be the first time, but usually it's The Eyebrow Of Disapproval in a reflective surface before he does something ill-advised.

He's hauled up by the scruff of his suit, still very much trying to batter Pavel - lands a kick against the Commander's dock when Pavel staggers away, and he swears he did not mean to send Pavel toppling through the front window. Those are a pain to replace, and he didn't want to inflict that on the staff. Once Pavel's out of sight he stops thrashing, dangling in someone's grip dejectedly, and hears a crackling rough sigh.

Rinzler drops him in a booth, checking him over for injuries. Beck winces - he'll be feeling the damage to his shoulder for a while - but looks up at Rinzler with big sad eyes. "He insulted you. Twice."

Rinzler flicks his nose.

"Ow." Beck pouts. "Come on, he deserved it." Rinzler's circuits are still white, the tetromino absent, but Beck doesn't dare hope. He's also being stared at in a very familiar judgemental way, and-

Beck cracks. "He doesn't get to do that, okay? Doesn't get to- he's not glitching superior to anyone. I get it, shouldn't have let him get in my head, but- he doesn't get to say that and not find out what the floor tastes like. Not to- not to you. Not to any of my friends, but especially not to you."

Beck is not going to apologise for something he is absolutely going to do again if he feels the need to.

The stare-off continues a little longer, glossy black to exhausted brown, and then that sleek helmet folds away.

"Thank you." Beck hears, pulled into a hug, and his arms wrap around his mentor's shoulders. They're shaking - or maybe he is, or maybe both of them are. "Well done, Renegade."

Beck smiles - ow, he'll be feeling the split lip for a while as well - and tucks his head into the neck of the Program who taught him. "Any time."

"You're still grounded for fighting though. I taught you to hit better than that."

"Oh, come on!"

[notsodailycake]

A bit of "ShockBlurr" for the PLJ AU :)

Again, with the amount of posts made for this au just being Shockwave and Blurr, I fear we might be giving a false image of what the au is about XD

Anyways, fun fact about the drawing: see Blurr's broken shounder pad thing? Yeah, so originally, it was gonna be like, not broken, but then I realized it would cover up parts of his helm I didn't want covered. And I complained about it to my sister, and she just said, "Break it! He's already being tortured, just break" with a straight, deadpan face. So I did that

Anyways, for those who don't know or missed it, this is a shared au between me and my sister @saltynsassy31

She made the design for Shockwave, while I did the one for Blurr

"Project Lightjet" (PLJ) is an oc driven AU set after the war, but we've been having waaay too much fun with the backstory XD.

Also, versoon without the text under the cut

Reeally super proud of this one, it was fun but hellish to work on I'll tell ya that.

Went back to fix minor shit way too many times💀

[saltynsassy31]

Another meme for my and @notsodailycake shared au that you will not be receiving the context of but I think it applies almost universally

[murderbees]

you know how guys like to name their cars and other vehicles?

Yeah, Rinzler names his after friends he doesn't remember. Of course, it's never the actual vehicle, he goes through too many for that

his lightcycle? Ram

lightjet? Yori (it's his favorite, flying is so comforting, he almost feels free)

I feel like he has more but I do not remember them

[riinzler]

/* not sure how they would meet, but I think one of these might be a good fit for our muses? Leaving these as your choice. (hope that's okay?) —@not-that-dillinger */

2.  STORM :  for both muses to find shelter from a severe storm.

13.  DAZE :  for one muse to wake somewhere and find the other hovering over them.

18.  DISASTER :  for both muses to work together to escape a fire, flood, or other disaster.

32.  TRAIL :  for one muse to notice the other has been following them.

DAZE :  for one muse to wake somewhere and find the other hovering over them.

Rinzler might have miscalculated. Badly.

He had rushed to the arcade aboard his lightjet as soon as he’d seen the Portal flare to life, intent on capturing the User who’d entered before they could slip away. He’d just missed them, and so had to resort to tracking the data left by their footsteps as they traveled deeper and deeper into the depths of the city. He didn’t know where they were heading, and quite frankly, he didn’t care. As long as he was able to intercept them before they reached the desired destination, wherever that might’ve been. He stalked silently after the trail, holding in the broken rumble from his processors as best as he could as he drew near his target. He had deviated from the path the User had left behind a few paces back, instead climbing to an overhead walkway and using the height advantage to finally, finally, set his sights on the User.

In retrospect, his haste to capture them had lead to his downfall, as he’d leaped without a second thought, tackling into the User from above and using the momentum to roughly take them to the ground, rolling end over end before he’d twisted, ending up on top as the User’s head slammed into the floor tiles, the rest of them falling still.

Rinzler sat back on his heels as he lifted the User’s head, checking along the back for any structural damages done, and was relieved to find none. No cracks or spilt voxels, but they still didn’t stir. Most programs would’ve already returned to their feet by then. With grumbled complaints, sure, but they’d have stood regardless. Where Users really built that weak? He leaned towards the User with the intent of simply tossing them in his lightjet and delivering them to the Luminary, but as he reached out to do so a half forgotten protocol in the oldest parts of his code stirred, partly blocked by patches and rewrites, telling him to wait for the User to reboot before transport. He wasn’t sure why he had the compulsion, let alone why he followed it, but he settled down to wait regardless, crouched next to the User with his one of his Discs in hand.

[foxgloveinspace]

fox your tags on the falcon/pigeon video are sending me

i can’t wait for the rest of your fic because those tags are going to haunt me. i need to witness how falcon/pigeon coded sam and rinzler are (i still want to say rizzler every time i see his name)

ok, but the thing is, is that this is totally how i see them, in the sense that Sam does some dumb shit, and kinda flirts without expectations, but it WORKS. It works on Rinzler, and he's just stoically standing there.

but also, in this annalogy of Sam being a pigeon and Rinzler being a hawk, the pigeon is a god.

So a god is doing dumb things (like trying to take off on a lightjet without knowing how to make it work completely) with witty one liners and it's working.