#cosmic rust

[askvectorprime]

Since Transformers're living beings, they obviously get sick, and diseases definitely exist. That's why there're medics. However, how do they get vaccinated, and do they even need to?

Dear Contagion Concerned,

In the same way that your own immune systems seek out and eliminate pathogens before they can infect your body, so too are our own internal workings protected by intricate, interconnected mechanisms that you might call an “immune system”. Our brain modules are heavily encrypted and secured behind what you would call a “firewall”, while our physical bodies are protected by a complicated system of ultra-thin, electrostatically charged plates that attract and filter out environmental hazards like sand, dust, and rust flakes.

However, these systems are not perfect, and in an ever-changing world Cybertronians must constantly update their software—and, in extreme cases, the hardware itself. When Cybertronians arrive on new worlds, their internal systems analyze the atmospheric conditions and geology of the local terrain and adapt their system accordingly. However, these kinds of ad-hoc reconfigurations are not enough to withstand the very worst diseases known to our species, and in these cases more drastic measures must be taken. In times of postwar prosperity, these campaigns take the form of “Quantum Cycle Upgrades”, where both Maximals and Predacons receive mandatory hardware and software packages that would bring them up to a consistent standard. By the time of the Spark War, the Maximal Imperium and the Predacon Alliance had, over the course of multiple upgrade cycles, worked together to stamp out 73% of all Transformer diseases, including Cosmic Rust, cybercrosis, and Corrodia Gravis.

However, in times of war, where the Cybertronian race is scattered across the galaxy and the worst of our kind concoct monstrous bioweapons, this kind of "herd immunity" is impossible, as is any kind of organized, species-wide response to a disease outbreak. Depending on the resources at hand, individual Cybertronians might have to adopt entirely new bodies in order to fight off an infection-as was the case when the Earth Defense Command transferred the minds of many Autobots and Decepticons into custom-built Binaltech bodies in order to stave off a debilitating Cosmic Rust infection, or when the Oracle reformatted Optimus Primal's Maximals into technorganic frames immune to Megatron’s transformation virus.

[wineaunt420]

ok so I decided to make an Oilslick AI generated Chat on Chai because its late at night and im bored. TELL ME WHY COSMIC RUST IS NOT NOT ONLY JUST REFERRED TOO AS "the spice" BUT IS ALSO AN APHRODISIAC!? HELP!!??

[alchemisoul]

[steppesliver]

when you ignore the context of marty cheating for the 10th time this really is one of the most beautiful quotes all show

[deceptigoons-attack]

'Usually our science achievement award goes to a human being... But this year we're honoring... Perceptor!'

[yagodichjagodic]

Watching True Detective for the first time & omg, of COURSE there are references to the king in yellow. & the implication that Rust sees these things, because he exists between the gaps in society. In the world. Obsessed

[digitalafterlife]

riffing off of ligotti: considering the fact that all life on earth, but even earlier than that, sapient life, is inevitably predestined to come to an end (whether that be in ten years or ten billion), it can be said that we are all doomed by the narrative, dead from the beginning since we are aware that all that we create is not eternal, not able to outlast its own finale.

in that respect, the entire planet is a haunted house, and we – people, all those blessed with cognition and emotion – are the hollow spectres that stalk its corridors.

[rifleseye]

[definitely-not-karen]

“He’s right the omens are ill”

- Astrotrain

[transingthoseformers]

I forget sometimes that by the point in the timeline we're in for the tfp au, which is somewhere from one month to four after the orion arc i suppose, the autobot elite triad and their dinky little ship is somewhere. And Pharma manifested at some point, and I don't quite know how yet thus the term manifested. Motherfucker likes to just //appear// i guess (and that's kinda canon)

When i say dinky little ship i don't mean the Jackhammer, i mean something that everyone questions how it even was able to survive the atmosphere lol.

[askvectorprime]

Dear Vector Prime,

Since your species lives so much longer than most organic life, has there ever been an instance of invasive organic species escaping onto Cybertron and evolving into new forms within one cybertronian lifetime?

Dear Cladistically Curious,

Yes; Cosmic Rust and Mecannibals alike first started as harmless interstellar bacteria that we hardly noticed.

There are some hardliners on our world who wish for Cybertron to be "organic free". Their arguments usually boil down to "Sure, things are fine now, but in 3 million years who knows what you're going to get!" I often counter with the fact that we observed homo sapiens evolving for the last 9 million or so years and they are sometimes welcome visitors to our world. My opponents, however, see humans as proving the exact opposite, as they tend to accelerate our timelines from the scale of millions of years to, well, years.

[lesbonoi]

swerve and whirl are dead in animated canon by thw way

[mechaffeine]

What do we think the transformers equivalent of acne is? Is it rust, regular iron rust, that corrodes and corrodes even if you scrape it off?

Is it something else? Mere pits in the plates of face and body, filling with debris over time?

[alchemisoul]

"The eye with which I see God is the same with which God sees me. My eye and God's eye is one eye, and one sight, and one knowledge, and one love."

- Meister Eckhardt

[libraryofgage]

Addams Family B-Side Four

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually

Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three | Four (you’re here!) Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two Harley Quinn One 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz) Jedidiah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) One

Here it is boys!

Actually, this part was line-jumped on Ko-Fi, which means y'all got it sooner than I originally planned lol

If you want to line jump your favorite series, you can learn more here

Anyway, we have more developments in this chapter! I hope you enjoy them 👀

A meme is at the end for your entertainment too!

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

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Eddie has plans for the walk to Steve's house. He's going to compliment the bats on Steve's cropped hoodie. He's going to ask if Steve is aware he's allergic to raspberries. He's going to gently broach the subject of how Steve knows Pubert Addams.

And then, in a moment of cosmic injustice, Pubert fucking Addams is waiting with Steve at the end of the day. Eddie slows some when he sees them, his gaze lingering on Pubert as Steve offers him a thermos to drink from. He passes it back, and Steve looks like he's going to take a sip as well when Eddie calls out, "Stevie!"

Something gratifying and warm floods through him when Steve stops and looks his way. A smile tugs at his lips as Eddie hurries over, relieved to see the thermos being capped and put away. "Hope you didn't wait too long on me," Eddie says.

"We did," Pubert replies, grabbing Steve's hand and dragging him away.

Eddie frowns and catches up. "Why are you here?" he asks.

"Pubert and I walk together," Steve says, easily slipping his hand from Pubert's grip and moving to walk closer to Eddie. Their shoulders brush, Eddie gets another whiff of that cookies and cream scent, and Pubert glares. It's perfect. "Because we live next door to each other."

Eddie blinks, frowning slightly. Before he can say anything, Pubert smirks. "That's right," he says, pulling a cigar from his pocket. "We've known each other all our lives."

He strikes a match against his palm and lights the cigar, passing the match to Steve. When he takes it, Steve just lets the flame burn. Eddie watches as it gets dangerously close to Steve's fingertips, and without thinking, he licks his thumb and forefinger and pinches the flame to put it out.

Steve glances at him, a smile tugging at his lips. "Our parents are r--"

"Rather close," Pubert says, cutting Steve off and making Eddie's eye twitch at how rude it was. "In fact, Steve's parents specially requested I look after him at school."

"Oh," Eddie says, "you're the babysitter."

Pubert blinks and then frowns, looking upset that Eddie isn't more visibly jealous. That's good. That means Eddie is managing to hide his seething anger and envy well.

"So," Eddie says, deciding to steer the conversation away from Pubert. If he does it right, he can even ice him out entirely. "Why'd you transfer here, Stevie?"

"I caused irreparable emotional, psychological, and physical damage to students at my old school," Steve replies, finally passing the burnt match back to Pubert. He smiles lightly and adds, "That's what the police report says, anyway."

Eddie hums softly. "And, uh, why did you do that?"

"They wouldn't go to a museum with me."

"Sounds like they were just dumb, then."

That earns him a bright smile as Steve and Pubert stop outside a two-story home with fountains and cherub statues and an immaculate green lawn. It's surrounded by a white picket fence, the kind Eddie thought only existed in movies and 1950s nuclear family propaganda. Next to this house is a Gothic manor, for lack of a better description. It's dark, jagged, and seems to have clouds hanging over its rusted wrought iron fence.

"This is us," Steve says, gesturing to the Barbie Dreamhouse. "I'll see you tomorrow, Pubert."

With that, Steve grabs Eddie's hand and quickly pulls him through the fence's gate like they can't get inside fast enough. By the time Eddie has blinked, a large door is shutting behind him and he's standing in a foyer. "I'm home!" Steve calls, pulling off his shoes and gesturing for Eddie to do the same.

As he's wobbling to stay balanced while tugging one of his boots off, footsteps echo from the kitchen and a man's voice replies, "Welcome home, Steve!"

Eddie gets his first boot off and looks up as the owner of the voice steps into the foyer. The only thing that keeps him from dropping his shoe at the sight of the man is the unwavering desire to make a good impression on Steve and his parents.

"Father," Steve says, waving the man closer. "This is Eddie. We're going to be working on a project together. Eddie, this is my father, Fester."

Eddie sets his boot down and nods, taking the hand Fester offers. His skin is cold and clammy, probably corpse-like if Eddie had to guess, but he shakes with enthusiasm. Literally. The man's body is practically buzzing. "Great to finally meet you! Welcome to our home. Please make yourself comfortable. We'd love to have you for dinner."

"I thought we were having pot roast," Steve says.

"The oven is big enough for both."

It's a normal enough greeting and joking exchange that Eddie relaxes. He can see some of Steve's energy in Fester, the same wild glint in his eyes, and a similarly overwhelming gaze. Though, it puts him a little on edge when it's coming from Fester. Still. The same.

"Thanks. I, uh, I'll have to check about dinner, I guess, but I'll let you know." Fester drops his hand as he speaks, and Eddie hurries to take off his other boot.

"Of course," Fester says, nodding once. "You two go work. Just scream if you need anything."

"We will," Steve replies, waving for Eddie to follow him up a grand staircase. Literally. Eddie can't think of any other way to describe the marble steps with a polished railing and gilded edges. The whole thing looks like someone from HGTV should be waltzing through a doorway to describe the exact shade of paint they used.

He takes as much of it in as he can, eyes wide as Steve leads him to a balcony that overlooks the foyer. There are only two doors here, both of them across from each other, and Steve leads him to the one on the right. It's painted a soft yellow that reminds Eddie of ducklings.

"Oh," Eddie says, his voice soft and his eyes wide as he realizes just how rich Steve's family is.

The room is practically the size of Eddie's home and sectioned off into different areas. Against the back wall is a dramatic four-poster king-sized bed with one of those gauzy curtains hanging from the ceiling above it. The wall behind it is covered with flowering vines that crawl up and reach outward from behind the bed. A tiny three-step staircase to the left of it leads to what Eddie assumes is the bathroom, considering the edge of a sink that he can see through the crack in the door. To the right is a doorway that leads to a balcony, and Eddie can see a small set of porch furniture through the glass.

To Eddie's immediate left is a whole corner dedicated to a grand piano. Not a mini one, but a full-sized grand piano and its bench. A bookcase pushed against the wall next to it is filled with books of sheet music. To his immediate right is a large work table. Papers are scattered across it, and Eddie wouldn't think anything was wrong if not for the wall of weaponry directly above it. Swords, maces, a few tasers, two spears, and one trident, among others, are carefully arranged on hooks and display pins.

Suddenly, Eddie thinks about that mace Steve pulled out when they first met. He'd told himself that Steve couldn't possibly have been serious about using it, but now he's starting to second guess that assumption.

"Where do you work best?" Steve asks, pulling Eddie from his thoughts about the weaponry wall.

"Oh, uh, on the floor," he says.

Steve smiles and leads Eddie over to the glass balcony doors, sitting directly in a ray of sunshine that makes his hair glow and creates a halo effect. Eddie nervously wipes his palms on his jeans before sitting across from Steve, marveling at how plush the carpet is.

"What did you think of my idea in class?" Steve asks, glancing at Eddie before pulling notebooks and pens out of his bag.

It takes a few seconds for Eddie's brain to catch up. "I like it," he says, hesitating for a moment before asking, "Do you actually find it interesting, though? I mean...you don't really..."

"Look like I know anything about heavy metal?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I think the genre is given a little too much credit for converting people to Satanism. I mean, it's just discounting the work put in by others, you know? As a genre, though, it's pretty revolutionary, right? Like, it was doing and saying stuff nobody had heard before when it first made an appearance."

The more Eddie listens, the more excited he gets. Not only is Steve gorgeous and wild and unpredictable, he also knows a little about heavy metal and doesn't just write it off as unintelligible noise.

"How much of a history lesson are you prepared for, big boy?" Eddie asks, unable to help his grin as he leans forward.

Steve imitates his lean, his own smile a little softer. Eddie misses the way it becomes just a tiny bit smug when he glances down to see Steve's top hanging forward enough to see his chest. He's just about to do something incredibly stupid when Steve says, "As much as you're willing to give me."

Eddie blinks and looks back up, searching Steve's eyes for a few seconds. He doesn't seem sarcastic. In fact, he seems happy to listen to Eddie describe the genre, which only makes his already monumental crush grow three sizes.

--------

Eddie's heavy metal history lesson takes the better part of an hour to get through, and Steve spends the entire time slowly inching his way closer. He crosses the space between them as Eddie describes foundational bands and concept albums and the branching off of heavy metal from the rock 'n' roll genre tree.

By the time Eddie starts to lose steam, his eyes still bright and his face red from barely breathing the entire time, their knees are pressed together, Steve is happily leaning closer to occupy more of his space, and Eddie's hand had gravitated to Steve's calf without permission.

Steve smiles, happily filing away for later the bands Eddie mentioned and the albums he particularly liked. "So," he says, his voice soft but easily getting Eddie's attention, "sounds like we know everything for our presentation."

"You got the perfect partner for this project, sweetheart."

His grin widens, and Steve hums softly, leaning a little closer. This seems like a perfect chance to put one of his mother's lessons into action: ambiguously hint at more but don't follow through. "I'm not doing much work, though," he says, placing his hand on Eddie's knee.

Eddie squirms slightly, glancing down at Steve's hand before looking back up, a blush crawling along his cheeks and reaching for his ears. "You can, uh, design it. Yeah. Design the presentation."

"Is that really all I could do?"

Steve can see the moment Eddie registers his meaning, his eyes widening and the blush officially spreading to his ears and down his neck. He opens his mouth, glances away, and seems to blurt out the first thing he can think of to change the subject. "So, uh, w-what's with the weapons?"

"Doesn't everyone have a weapons wall?"

"Yeah, no. Uh, that might just be you, Stevie."

Steve tilts his head, humming softly as he glances at his weapons. "They're weapons I've won fights with," he says, looking back at Eddie with a bright smile. "I'm the best fighter in the family."

"Oh. Cool. And, who were you...fighting?"

"My cousins. Wednesday is the best opponent. She fights dirty. Pugsley isn't much of a fighter, really. What is much faster than me, but they always trip over their hair. I haven't won against Uncle Gomez just yet, but he has years of practice on me. Aunt Tish says it's just a matter of time, anyway. The trident, though, that was a bar mitzvah gift."

"You're Jewish?"

"On my mother's side."

"Oh," Eddie says, glancing at the wall again. His eyes linger on the trident for a moment before he asks, "And what about your dad's side?"

"I'm an Addams."

"An....Addams?"

Steve knows he's just killed Pubert's fun, but he doesn't care. He wants to see what Eddie looks like when he's angry. He wants to see what Eddie looks like when he's angry for and about Steve. "Fester Addams," he says, "Harrington is just a name of a family friend on my mom's side. She thought it sounded nicer."

Eddie's brain is visibly chugging along, turning this information over until his eyes spark with anger and frustration, his hand on Steve's calf tightening without him realizing. "And Pubert?" he asks, his voice low and more of a growl than anything else.

It sends an excited shiver down Steve's spine, and he suddenly knows Eddie can be mean and vicious and merciless if Steve only nurtured those tendencies with very positive reinforcement. "Pubert's great with explosives, but he's not good at close range fights. He doesn't even protect his kidneys. They're so easy to stab," Steve replies.

"Well, if it's that easy," Eddie mutters.

His words send a thrill down Steve's spine, and he can't help leaning into his space. He places his hands on Eddie's thighs for balance, far above the knee, and only stops when their noses are almost brushing. "I could hold him down for you," he offers, hearing Eddie gulp at their proximity.

"I, uh, might take you up on that," Eddie whispers, glancing down at Steve's mouth and staring at it.

Steve waits a few seconds, but Eddie doesn't do anything more. He internally sighs, lamenting the lack of initiative but happy that he gets to keep teasing, and leans back. "Well, just let me know," he says, his voice light as he shifts out of Eddie's reach.

He picks up his notebook, flipping it open to a blank page, and looks up. Eddie is staring at him like he's just seen Heaven only for the gates to close on him. He looks desperate but confused, and Steve decides it's a very cute look on him. "So, do you want to hear my ideas for the presentation?" he asks, flashing an innocent smile that pulls Eddie back to the present.

"Yeah. Sure. Explain away," Eddie says, his voice a little strained. Pride swells in Steve's chest at having caused the strain, and he pretends not to notice Eddie's attempts to subtly inch closer as he outlines design ideas.

When Eddie is finally close enough for their shoulders to touch, Steve rewards his initiative by leaning against him.

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Tag List (there's no more room on the list, so please follow the addams family b-side tag to see updates!)

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And now, two more memes because they're both funny

[cryptotheism]

What’s the most generally common rig? Like if I go to some backwater nowheresville with 3 houses and a dog, what kind of rig can I still be confidant I’ll see?

THE ARCADIA Y-400 BABEYYYYY

I have nearly 2000 words of lore on the Arcadia Freight Y-400 General Duty Work Rig. It's the 1995 Ford F150 of exo rigs.

The Arcadia Freight company is a rig shop that's famous for producing high-volume, low cost, low-quality, but easily maintained, rigs. The Arcadia Y-series is what your dad runs at the warehouse he works at. It's what every yokel busts out of a rusting garage when they need to repair some fencing. If there's a barn raising in the grass sea, you can bet that half the people there will show up in an old, rusty, beat-to-shit Arcadia Y-series.

The Arcadia Y-400 is the exception to the normal Arcadia product line. For some reason, by some miraculous cosmic accident, the astral forces of product design and international manufacturing combined perfectly for the Y-400. This particular frame is famous for being fucking indestructible.

They're the AK-47 of modern rig technology. The Y-400 hasn't been manufactured in more than 60 years, and most of them are still running. You can march these things through a sandstorm and come out the other side. You can fish a mummified Y-400 out of a bog and have it running by sunset.

"Grabbing the Arcy" is a euphemism for schlepping off to grab some necessary tool.