#M1-RA

[styxxsyringe]

i like my trad stuff more

[mushymushhh]

[intothefunkyverse]

18+ POST

This is for the birthday poll thing I did a bit back! Valveplug won, so I'm doing a poll on what character(s) to do.

[postsofbabel]

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[the-most-humble-blog]

The Human Supercomputer:

Built, Maintained, and Programmed by Mother Nature

The Brain You Didn’t Earn, But Get to Use Anyway

Ever heard of typoglycemia? No, it’s not a disease—it’s a flex that proves your brain is an unstoppable supercomputer. You can read this perfectly:

👉 "Aoccdrnig to rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn’t mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoetnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer be at the rghit pclae."

Did you struggle? Nope. Your brain didn’t even break a sweat.

That’s because Mother Nature programmed you for maximum efficiency. She didn’t waste time making you read letter by letter like a dumbass. No, she built you to see patterns, adapt instantly, and dominate the competition.

This isn’t magic. It’s evolution’s biggest middle finger to every other species.

The No-Fucks-Given Predator That Rules the Food Chain

Humanity didn’t start at the top.

We were tree-dwelling cowards, terrified to come down because literally everything on Earth was stronger than us.

We had no fangs, no claws, no armor.

But we had one thing no other species did—a brain that wouldn’t quit.

Fast forward a few million years: ✔ Tigers? We turned them into rugs. ✔ Wolves? Now they shit on leashes for us. ✔ Whales? We used them for lamp oil before we got bored and moved on.

Meanwhile, every other species is still doing the same dumb shit they were doing a million years ago.

Humans? We invented nukes, Wi-Fi, and Taco Bell.

That’s why we run this planet.

If It Breathes, We Dominate It

If another species so much as steps up, here’s what happens: ✔ We slap its dick into the dirt. ✔ We burn down its home, AND the trees around it, just to send a message. ✔ We put its offspring in a zoo to perform tricks for us. ✔ We figure out how to eat it—starting with its mountain oysters.

(For the uninitiated, that’s testicles. We deep-fry their balls and charge $12.99 a plate.)

🚨 Rent’s Due, Bitches. 🚨

Your Brain is the Ultimate Cheat Code

You think a lion is scary? We built tanks. You think a shark is dangerous? We drain oceans to build resorts. You think an eagle is majestic? We trained them to carry our mail.

While other species fight to survive, we: ✔ Launch ourselves into space just to flex. ✔ Invent laws that say we "can’t punch each other"—then do it anyway. ✔ Domesticate wild animals, then dress them in sweaters.

Mother Nature didn’t just give us tools—she built us into the tool. Our brain processes patterns, spots weaknesses, and exploits them. That’s why we don’t just survive—we own everything.

Test Your Supercomputer: Can You Read These?

If your brain is as overpowered as I think it is, try these out:

👉 "Olny smrat poelpe can raed tihs." 👉 "Yuo cna gvie a tigrer fngas, but he wlil slitl be in a cgae." 👉 "A torkey deid for yuor Tnakshigvni dinnre, but tehn aigan, so did the Indnias."

(If you just read all of those with zero problems—congrats, you are a goddamn machine.)

Now think about that.

A tiger needs strength to kill. We just made a fucking rifle.

A bear needs claws to defend itself. We just built the M1 Abrams.

A shark rules the ocean. We built boats, drained swamps, and put its cousins in fish tanks.

Your brain is the ultimate weapon. The rest of the animal kingdom is just living in our theme park.

🔥 Final Verdict: Humans Are the Apex Predators That Nature Never Saw Coming

Other species fight to live.

We rewrote the rules and built Wi-Fi.

The universe built us to win.

Any animal that doesn’t like it?

They can suck our reproductive organs.

That’s payback for millions of years of running from their flea-bitten, fang-having asses.

🚀 REBLOG If You Accept Humanity’s Superiority. 💬 COMMENT If You’d Slap a Lion Just to Prove a Point. 🔥 FOLLOW If You Want More Brutal, No-Nonsense Truth Bombs.

[yaztax]

Bunch of M1-RAs !

[typingatlightspeed]

Metal Gear/TF2 Crossover - cp_shadow_moses_event Chapter 7

After Snake deals with Vulcan Raven's tank assault, he sneaks into the nuclear storage building and finds himself seeing double. He doesn't understand how it's possible, but the good news is that nobody else does either. Also: obligatory dick jokes.

Ao3 Link!

Feeling so clever about Spy's dialogue in this one. Ohohohoho.

---------

Smoke poured from the M1 Abrams sitting at the middle of the snowfield connecting the tank hangar and nuclear storage building. The doors to the storage facility opened, and Snake slipped through, his bout with Vulcan Raven ending in victory.

Raven tugged his radio from a pouch and opened the channel. "Well, Boss, I hope you are happy. He got the card."

"We'll play with him a little longer," Liquid replied from the other end.

"You would be wise not to underestimate him."

"What did you think of him?" As the doors to the nuclear storage facility closed, Raven opened the hatch at the top of the tank and emerged, the cold air brisk and refreshing on his skin. His eyes surveyed the field where Snake had dug up and disarmed the mines he'd set, where tank treads had left their mark, where the footprints of nine hustling mercenaries had marred the snow ahead of their battle. "He is just as you said. In battle, he as if possessed by a demon. Much like you. I would expect no less."

"You see? I told you so. But I will kill him."

"So, General Ivan. I hear he took your hand as well as your dignity?"

Ocelot's voice crackled across the line, offense clear in his tone. "Watch your tongue, Shaman!"

"In the language of the Sioux people, 'sioux' means 'snake'. It is an animal to be feared."

"Well Snake is mine now," Ocelot hissed. "When I meet him next, I'll take special care of him."

"Not yet," Liquid snapped. "Don't kill him yet."

"He and I will meet again in battle," Raven affirmed.

Ocelot sounded amused. "Same prediction as always?"

"Yes. The ra—" Raven's voice trailed out mid-sentence as a single, snowy-white dove landed on the barrel of the tank. A splash of crimson—of blood—had stained its breast, and around its beak. He stared at it for a long moment, perplexed. A dove. Here, in an Alaskan blizzard. It almost slipped his mind that it belonged to the mercenary doctor who had been ogling him. The little bird fluttered over to the unconscious, bleeding body of the soldier who had copiloted the tank with Raven. It pecked at him, head tilting this way and that, as it tried to figure out what it was dealing with there, then, it pecked to the small puddle of blood that had gathered by his wounded arm. It continued pecking, drinking at the blood, until it seemed satisfied and took to wing, soaring out into the white of the storm with surprising strength for such a small bird.

Raven stared. The dove, white as the driven snow, thirsted for blood, bathed itself in it. Ravens were carrion birds, but doves? They were granivores, frugivores, insectivores.

"Raven?" Liquid asked after a long silence.

Was there meaning in that, Raven wondered, or was it simply just evocative in a literary way?

"Raven?" Liquid asked again. "Are you there?"

Shaking his head, Raven pressed the call button. "Yes, boss. Sorry. I was... distracted."

"Flighty as always," Ocelot chided.

"Says the alley cat missing his paw," Raven huffed.

*

The entrance to the storage building sloped downward to a large, vertical bay door that was nearly closed, left open just the barest amount. As Snake approached, he lowered himself to his belly and shimmied beneath it, the clearance just barely enough. His ass caught a bit, and he had to squeeze to get all the way through. He frowned a little, wondering if maybe he should cut down on the squats in his workout routine if it was going to make it harder to get through tight spots.

His codec rang, and Campbell's voice was soon in his ear. "Be careful. You absolutely must not use weapons in that area."

Naomi chimed in, "I've already programmed the nanomachines so that he won't be able to, Colonel."

Snake bristled at the reminder that the nanomachines coursing through his body could be so easily used to control his behaviour. "What? What are you talking about?"

"Have you forgotten? That's where they keep the nuclear warheads. Can't you see them?"

"Yeah, there's lots of boxes piled up here but... are they all warheads?"

"Yes, they're all dismantled warheads," Campbell confirmed.

"They just leave them here? It's like President Baker said: totally careless."

A voice rang out in person, not over the codec. "You can say that again, brother."

Snake looked up from where he was crouched, eyes wide. How had he been so careless in turn? Blue eyes met blue, and the crack of gum sounded surreal in the wide, echoey space of the first floor warehouse. The RED Scout was seated casually atop one of the decommissioned missiles racked in the storage facility, his legs crossed under him, leaning on one elbow atop his knee. He was chewing gum, blowing small bubbles and cracking them loudly.

Well, he'd been made. Time to make this slip-up useful. Snake stood, and swiftly realized he was surrounded by mercenaries. The rest of the RED team leaned against walls and warheads, crates and catwalks, casually scattered about with little care for stealth or patrols. Their attention was entirely focused on the door Snake had just slipped under, and there was no chance that he could have made it through unnoticed without an optical camouflage device.

He held his hands up to show he was unarmed, gradually noting that each RED also had his weapons holstered or stashed, most holding a melee implement of some sort. "So, Reliable Excavation and Demolition."

"That's us alright," Scout confirmed with another crack of his gum. "An' you're Stiffy Constrictor, right?"

"Lad, I think it's Erect Cobra," Demoman corrected before taking a swig from a bottle.

"Thought it was Turgid Python," Sniper added with a smirk.

The other two 'ooh'-ed at their teammate's vocabulary.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Spy sighed, uncloaking next to Snake. "I'd apologize for their boorishness but that would imply that I take responsibility for these idiots." He lit a cigarette and took a drag.

Snake watched the man's practiced motions. Every smoker had a sort of rote way he would tap out a smoke and light it. Almost a ritual, a motion that became soothing over time much in the same way that first hit of nicotine was. The movements were the exact same as the BLU Spy's, including the slight flourish of his ring and pinky fingers as he flicked the lighter closed. It was uncanny. "So. Is this a nine on one?" Snake asked, his heart racing as he took note of every mercenary's position, weapon, and the placement of obstacles and other terrain features of the room.

"No," Heavy replied, leaning against a missile, arms crossed over his chest. "You are not our target. You have nothing to fear from us."

"You're not working for Liquid?"

"Oh, we very much are," Medic chirped giddily, laying a hand on Heavy's arm as if to say he would take it from here. "But we haven't been hired to deal with you. We've been instructed not to interfere with you, actually!"

"Doctor," Spy snipped, frowning at the chipper German. "That is quite enough. What do I keep saying about operational security?"

"I don't know; I tend to stop listening rather quickly," Medic admitted with a titter.

Spy sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He turned back to Snake. "I have the feeling that our contractor has some sort of personal vendetta against you, monsieur. So he would prefer that his unit be the one to put an end to your mission. We're simply extra security for situations like our blue doppelgängers whom I'm sure you've met."

"How is it that you're such perfect duplicates of one another? Are you teams of twins? Clones? Gene therapy and conditioning?"

Spy chuckled and took a drag. "Who can say? We're near-perfect copies of one another, fated to fight an endless war to an endless stalemate. Eighteen perfect idiots, brothers of bodies and battle, but strangers to one another; we terrible children." A self-satisfied smile crossed the rogue's lips at his own florid words, and he took a sharp breath like it were punctuation. "I'd ask you the same question. You resemble our employer eerily, save for your differing hair colours."

"So I'm told," Snake grumbled, a little dismayed at his questions being brushed off so easily.

"Try not to let it bother you," Spy hummed. "We've certainly gotten past that point years ago. Need to know basis, I suppose."

"Must be nice."

"It isn't really anything," Spy shrugged.

"So you're just going to let me pass?"

"We are waiting for BLU," Heavy said simply. "Our orders are to fight them, try to stop them from pushing deeper. There is something here they cannot get to."

"The Australium, huh?"

"You know of this?"

"The BLUs mentioned it, yeah. I'm not concerned with it, though."

"Then we will not fight you," Heavy confirmed.

"But you're waiting here for them to push in? There are dismantled warheads everywhere in here, and you plan to fight them here?"

Heavy cracked his massive knuckles loudly. "Can kill tiny BLUs without guns."

"You sure that's wise?"

"We do not get paid for Wise!" Soldier shouted, entrenching shovel gripped tightly in his hand. "We get paid for Violent!"

Snake looked to Spy, who merely shrugged and stubbed his cigarette out on the wall, having long since made peace with it all.

"Well, good luck, I guess," Snake replied, a little bewildered, and headed up the stairs to the elevator at the back of the room.

As the elevator doors slid closed, Spy's hiss of, "They're coming!" reached Snake's ears, followed by whooping and war cries from the assembled men.

Were these the kinds of soldiers Big Boss was trying to build a nation for? A world for?

Snake shook his head.

[nhung-ngay-nguoc-nang]

Chị của mình khá lận đận nên mẹ lo lắng, chăm sóc hơn hẳn. Mình thì không phải kiểu tự lập, độc lập, bản lĩnh gì nhưng là kiểu không làm người ta phải lo lắng.

Chị mình có con, mình cưng nó dữ lắm, nó đau ốm hay gì, dù bận nhưng vẫn qua ở lại chăm sóc nó, ru, bế nó cả đêm tới sáng. Mình chụp ảnh nó đầy cả điện thoại. Rảnh là mình chạy qua nhà nó, nhìn nó ăn, chơi, bế bồng nó.

Tháng này mình đang được nghỉ hè, lớp dạy ít hơn, ngày mai mình rảnh nên dự định qua nhà nó chơi, chở mẹ con nó đi cà phê. Vậy mà!

- Mùng 1 m qua nhà họ làm gì. Đi phải lựa ngày, để họ còn làm ăn.

- Họ là ai? Ai là họ? Thôi không qua nữa, sau cũng không rảnh để qua.

Thật ra, mẹ mình thiên vị chị mình từ lúc mình còn sinh viên, ở trọ. Mình tủi thân kinh khủng. Có lần cuối tuần được dịp về nhà, trọ cách nhà không xa hơn 10km, nhưng vì tối, chồng chị mình (lúc đó chỉ là người yêu thôi) có qua nhà chơi chắc là sẽ ở lại. Mình mới ăn cơm xong, mẹ nói thôi mình lên trọ đi cho 2 người riêng tư. Tại phòng 2 chị em gần nhau, có vách thông qua nên mẹ bảo vậy. Mình ấm ức, lúc đó cũng phải 11h đêm rồi, mình lấy xe đi luôn.

Mình với chị không có xích mích gì nhưng vì mẹ mình, những câu nói bâng quơ đó làm mình tủi thân. Trong khi đến ngày cúng gì đó, không ai giữ cháu giùm chị mình, mẹ cũng bảo mình xuống phụ đi. Thế là ngày Rằm, M1 lúc cần thì mình xuống được, không ảnh hưởng làm ăn. Còn mấy ngày không cần thì mình mang vận xui rủi hay gì? Mặc dù nhà chị chẳng kinh doanh gì cả.

Đôi khi, mình không hiểu cho lắm. Mình cũng ghét cái tính cách đó của mẹ.

Dự định sẽ không xuống nhà chị ít nhất 1 tháng, có thể lâu hơn. Trẻ con nhỉ? Nhưng kệ, đó là cách mình giải toả.

[thanhuyenguyen]

Lại 1 năm trôi qua. Thời gian trôi nhanh thật

Năm rồi nhiều biến động quá, mình thì vẫn cảm giác mình đang nhìn người khác sống, xem thế giới vận hành, còn mình thì ấu trĩ, lúc nào cũng hèn mọn, lo lắng, bất an và sợ đủ điều. Cái cảm giác tự ti, lơ mơ về mọi thứ, trống rỗng trong tâm hồn, lo sợ về ngày mai, kiểu kiểu vậy.

Mình vẫn né tránh xã hội, cảm giác thua kém bạn bè cùng trang lứa. Luôn đi sau mọi người, tư duy chậm, cái gì cũng chậm, nhận thức cũng chậm chạp nốt, k nhanh nhạy với cả công việc mình đang làm.

Mình cũng k rõ mình có vấn đề gì về tâm lý k nữa, kiểu vô cảm ích kỷ sao ấy

Năm rồi nhiều chuyện buồn. Làm mình thấy sợ, mất niềm tin vào con người quá. Những điều trc kia nghe thiên hạ kể thôi, lại xảy ra ngay trong họ hàng thân thuộc. Tết năm ngoái còn bình yên, mà đùng cái biến cố đến, ai nghĩ người chung chăn chung gối lại làm cái trò hơn cả lừa đảo táng tận lương tâm như vậy, vay mượn cắm sổ đỏ khắp nơi, nợ cả mấy chục tỉ, bán cả đất tổ tiên để lại cũng k trả hết nợ. Cậu Ba sốc, lẩn thẩn, quẩn quanh trong dòng suy nghĩ k thoát ra đc. Từ 1 người mạnh mẽ là vậy đùng cái suốt ngày khóc mếu, kêu k còn động lực sống. Còn con vợ thì bỏ đi biệt tăm, trốn nợ để lại mọi thứ như thể nó vô can. Ngay từ đầu tiếp xúc mình đã k thích rồi, kiểu phông bạt, giả tạo vđ, lòng người thật đáng sợ.

Rồi bác Quốc, rõ ràng đang bình thường khoẻ mạnh, đùng cái đi viện, rồi kết quả trả vể K máu GĐ cuối, 2 tuần sau bác mất. Mọi ng sốc, giờ mình vẫn k tin được, vẫn nghĩ bác đang ở nhà, vẫn đang sửa xe đầu ngõ kìa. Xong tự dưng mình thấy cuộc sống vô thường quá, vật thì còn, người thì mất, ai cũng dằn vặt.

Xong, mình sợ, mình k dám đi khám lại. Sợ kiểm tra có vấn đề gì thì sao. Rồi là mình thấy mình ổn, mà mỗi lần khám bs lại nói những câu mình k muốn nghe. Thi thoảng lại có bạn inb mình hỏi thăm tình hình mình sao r, b kể nhiều cái, lo lắng bất an sợ hãi điều gì, cái cảm giác tuyệt vọng ra sao mình cũng hiểu.

Như đợt cách đây 2 tháng bệnh nó bùng lên, mình biết là nó nhắc mình nó vẫn ở đó đấy, rồi mình nằm bệt 3 ngày k ăn uống gì, cứ chỉ biết ôm bụng cầu nguyện, chứ nếu đi viện thì phác đồ cũng chỉ vậy, theo dõi r truyền này nọ, rồi mình lại làm khổ bố mẹ các thứ, xong bác sĩ lại doạ đủ điều. Toàn những điều mình k muốn nghe. May sao các cụ phù hộ, mọi thứ lại ổn ổn...

Xong mình đc mấy ng mai mối cho ng này ng nọ, nói chuyện đc 1 hôm mình bảo thôi k cần nt nữa đâu, sợ mất thời gian của họ. Mà mình cũng k có mở lòng đc. Mình tự ti nhiều cái. Mình nghĩ có lẽ mình sẽ cô độc đến hết cuộc đời này mất. Ngoài bố mẹ ra thì k nợ ai, cũng k có gì ràng buộc mình. Mình sợ mình sẽ là gánh nặng của họ, cũng k muốn sẻ chia quá nhiều điều. Mà nếu vậy sau sẽ cô đơn nhiều lắm ấy. Rồi mình nghĩ liệu mình có sống đc lâu ko này nọ. Nói chung tâm mình bất ổn, nên thật khó để mở lòng hay sẻ chia này nọ.

Mình còn k tin tưởng bản thân mình nữa là người khác. Mình cũng k hiểu sao 2 người xa lạ có thể gắn bó lâu dài với nhau, rồi đủ thứ việc, đủ chuyện đau đầu...

Mới m1 mà nhiều tâm sự quá nhỉ, lâu lắm r mình k viết gì mà.

[maxicaiman]

so while I've only started drawing two, I now have plans for my ocs!

Mixtape: a cassette player I'm shipping with rodiblurr in TFA and soundster in g1/idw

Scout, M1-RA, and Alex: Scout is an Autobot who crashed on Earth, and is now in the care of robot maker Alex and her bot M1-RA (they become a throuple)

Tailpipe: little seekerling being cared for by Jetfire

Twister: younger seekerling under the care of the Elite Trine/Starscream's clones

Mainframe: Decepticon spy shipped with Shockwave

Astro/Astronimus Prime: child who initially lived in a secret, zealot filled village on a desolate planet before it was found, later became a Prime and a successful scientist/theologist under the care of Drift and Ratchet

Flint: a Torchbearer from Caminus

Pulse: a medic in training as Ratchet's assistant in TFA and IDW, might ship her with Optimus and Blackarachnia

Tbh I'll probably come up with more, Astro, Scout, M1-RA, and Alex were the first ones I thought of and then the rest just appeared in my mind

THESE ARE SO CUTE OH MY GOODNESS

Tailpipe is such a cute name omfg this is my favorite one immediately. That’s my child now /j

[styxxsyringe]

rabbot and i

[walkingthroughthisworld]

(via XM1 Abrams Main Battle Tank by DarkWizard83 on DeviantArt)

The original prototype vehicle that led to one of - if not the - most powerful tank in the world, and current backbone of Us armored forces, the M1 Abrams MBT.  Born out of the failed German-American MBT-70 project, the XM1 was developed by the Chrysler Motor Corporation, and in 1978 Chrysler delivered to the Army a sleek, low-silhouette heavy tank that incorporated every major technological feature of the day, including computerized controls and a laser rangefinder.   But the most significant design feature of the new tank was its use of Chobham composite armor on the hull and turret.  While the exact nature and composition of Chobham armor remains a closely guarded secret, the evidence suggests that it utilizes a matrix of ceramic armor tiles, layered between the vehicle's internal steel and external armored plating.  When a high-velocity projectile - such as a round fired from a tank or an anti-tank missile - hits the armor, the explosion produces a high-velocity jet of gas that shears through the armor plating.  In normal armor, this jet of gas - once it had passed through the outer armor - would blast into the hull of the tank, causing irreprible damage and often killing the crewmen inside.  However, with Chobham armor's interweaved layers of ceramic composite, the forces that would normally tear into a tank's hull are forced to spread out and dissipate over a much wider area, leaving the inner hull intact.  This not to say that Chobham armor renders a tank invincible - any hit will still cause exterior damage, and a powerfiul direct hit could still damage or disable the tracks or sensitive electronic equipment.  But it would keep the crew alive, and often protect the tank itself enough to keep fighting. Another key crew safety feature is the vault-like armored compartment that houses the Abrams' primary ammunition.  One of the primary causes of a tank's destruction has not been the direct result of armor-pierecing hits, but the inderict results of those hits ignigting and detonating the tank's munitions.  To protect this, a kevlar and steel armored plate seperates the crew from the ammunition store.  Same with the tank's fuel supply.  Even if the compartments were pierced, and the ammunition or fuel ignited, the protective plates would insulate the crew from explosion and fire.   In combat, the Abrams has proven to be second to none.  During Operation Desert Storm in 1991, M1s were able to take out Iraqi tanks at distances as long as 4km.  Of the nearly 2,000 Abrams to see combat in the conflict, only 18 were ever taken out of service due to combat damage, and none resulted in any crew casulties.  In 2003 and onwards during Operation Iraqi Freedom, the Abrams again demonstrated a mastery of the battlefield, driving to Baghdad virtually unopposed.  However, the Abrams clearly showed its vulnerability to ambush attacks, with a number of M1s severly damaged and disabled from RPGs, and far more frequently by roadside IED bomb traps.  However, even when caught in some of the largest IED explosions, crew casualties have so far been astoundingly low, a testament to the M1s protection and survivability. While no future M1's are planned for production, a number of older models are currently slated for upgrade to current standards over the next few years, and the Abrams will continue to serve with the Us Army and Marine Corps. for mcuh of the century to come. M1 Abrams Vehicle Stats: Type: Main battle tank Manufacturer: General Dynamics Land Systems First deployed: 1980 Crew: 4 Length: 9.76 m Width: 3.65 m Height: 2.88 m Weight: 61.4 tons Armor: Classified Armament, primary: 1 x 105mm M68 rifled tank gun; later models equipped with 120mm M256 smoothbore tank gun Armament, secondary: 2 x 7.62mm FN-Browning M240 machineguns, 1 x .50-cal Browning M2 BMG machinegun Ammo stowage, primary: 55 rounds Ammo stowage, secondary: 11,000 rounds 7.62mm, 1,000 rounds .50-cal Powerplant: Textron Lycoming AGT1500 1,500hp gas-turbine engine Max speed: 72 km/h Max range: 498km Operators: Australia, Egypt, Kuwait, Saudi Arabia, USA

[fovarosiblog]

Hogy gyorsabb az átszállás?

(1) M1 a Deákig, ott átszállás az M3-ra, vagy

(2) M1 a Bajcsy-ig, ott átmenni az Erzsébet tér sarkán levő lifthez, és azzal le az M3 peronszintjére?

[intothefunkyverse]

A rough sketch/reference of my TF OC, M1-RA, that I'm planning on digitizing! (ft. Scout)

She's a sentient robot created by Alex for companionship (ie: Alex made herself a robot gf) who ended up finding Scout mortally wounded. She brought him all the way back to Alex to fix.

She's very interested in him.

Probably my favorite thing about her is the hair, and yes, she's available for asks! Along with Scout and Alex.

[postsofbabel]

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[otthonzulles]

szombat

ezt a szopást, az M1 csurig volt ma kelet felé vendégmunkásokkal, magyar rendszám semmi, ellenben a belga, norvég, svéd, török, bulgár, MINDEN, valakinek BAGDAD 1 vásárolt rendszáma volt, gheci egy pokol volt a pálya. araszolás, sávelhúzások megvannak, koccanás a belső sávban meg taposgatja a féket a belsőben mindenki mint az anyját. 120-ra leszabályozott bérfurgonnal bőven megvoltam a belsőben is ha épp volt hozzá kedvem

szerencsére csak kb. 930km-t vezettem ma (tmiklós-sopron-szolnok-bicske-szolnok). altató nem kell

@pajjorimre ki tudod valahogy kerülni ezt a giga-szabadságoló karavánt, vagy ha szopsz akkor szopsz?