you know, i actually came out here to help

whatever i did, i know for a fact that it was necessary, proportionate, and staggeringly far-sighted, and i'm confident that history will prove me--oh! garrus 9! affiliated with aldebaran.

[800movingobjects-blog]

@sparkcasing​

Prowl was charting a map. It was a mental map, but Prowl privately congratulated himself on it being a very exact and precise mental map of the whole of the Aldebaran “ark.” He hadn’t been inside every building or seen every tree, of course, and he was absolutely not taking this fragile hard light meat sack into the ocean because Primus below only knows what kind of awful animals might be down there. But aside from that, it was pretty good.

Now, he was heading back to his “home base,” if you could call it that. Prowl still hadn’t found any bugs or traps in the room he had woken up in, despite searching it thoroughly every time he returned, and as suspicious as this whole setup was to begin with, he was starting to believe that a bedroom sometimes is just a bedroom.

Still, the rest of the building was still suspect. He hadn’t forgotten all the strange gears he had seen waiting in the walls, and the place just looked creepy. The whole neighborhood was creepy. But at least he was on edge; there was nothing worse than being relaxed when a sudden problem cropped up.

Prowl was enveloped in all of these thoughts when he ran into a lamppost headfirst. He stumbled back, confused, and annoyed, and in a rather significant amount of pain for holomatter pain receivers, he thought. And it was then that he noticed a lanky human on the other side of the street. Prowl’s face twisted into a scowl. Hopefully they didn’t see that.

[800movingobjects-blog]

dangerousallies‌:

“A little bit of both, perhaps, but I’m willing to go with the first, if you do need it.” Idly, they saunter closer, taking a seat opposite Prowl, hands neatly folded in their lap. There’s something incongruous about him that they can’t quite put their finger on. It’s intriguing.

“I’ve only been here a few days, but if you have questions, I shall certainly endeavor to answer them to the best of my abilities.”

Prowl leaned away from the Diplomat, internally quite disgusted by their squishy, oily, organic body. It was bad enough that his own holomatter avatar mimicked that same greasy meat. 

“... Alright. I do have questions, actually. What do you know about this place, Aldebaran?” He gestured with one hand at their surroundings. “And this train, it travels inside... around? It? This... ark?” He said ‘ark’ strangely. This did not resemble any ark he had ever heard of.

[800movingobjects-blog]

theenrichmentcenter‌:

“Neither do I,” GLaDOS said cheerfully. Unfortunately for Prowl, his irritation was only encouraging her. “But somehow I doubt we’re going to have much of a choice.” 

Oh, GLaDOS’ chipper attitude was making Prowl positively venomous. “Oh, really? Have you tried every possible route? Have you gone through every possibility? I doubt it. We’ll see if we won’t see the outside of this box.” He sneered.

[800movingobjects-blog]

theenrichmentcenter‌:

Don’t worry, Prowl, GLaDOS hadn’t gotten that far yet. “I haven’t exactly counted them,” she said cheerily. Prowl’s pettiness was certainly obvious to her, but she was enjoying it too much to mind. “And they don’t, usually. They don’t usually call me anything, actually, so feel free to join the club. I couldn’t care less.” GLaDOS folded her hands behind her back; she continued to stand where she was, and allowed Prowl to draw his own conclusions about her tinkering. “What do they call you?”

Prowl gave GLaDOS a rather sour look. He wasn’t really used to people treating him with the same aloof condescension that he usually put on, and he was not in the mood to start. The irritation was plain in his voice when he responded. “You know, I think that suits me just fine. Hopefully I won’t ever have cause to address you again.” Prowl crossed his arms, turning up his nose slightly. “Don’t worry about me. I don’t intend to stick around, actually.”

[800movingobjects-blog]

dangerousallies‌:

“Not with that attitude,” they murmur, softly but audibly. What a charming sort.

“Yes, I’m trapped, just like you. Is it that strange to reach out to a fellow captive in distress?”

Maybe ‘in distress’ isn’t exactly accurate - but it does make them sound more magnanimous, and that’s what counts.

Prowl gave them a venomous look, but didn’t bite. He knew why people didn’t like him, he didn’t need a stranger to tell him that. He sighed, trying to compose himself somewhat. This person didn’t seem like the brawling type, but Prowl’s been wrong before and a fight was just the last thing he needed today. “Maybe. Maybe not. Are you reaching out, or just trying to waste my time?” Right. No fights. Good one, Prowl.

[800movingobjects-blog]

logic--dictates‌:

Shockwave puts his hand and gun-hand to his hips, sternly regarding the human. “How curious!” he exclaimed. “An unparalleled command of science is among the many skills I have mastered, but it has never been my primary function. I was Military Operations Commander of the Decepticons until my recent ascension to leadership. I do not know whom your sources are, but I would suggest reassessing their usefulness.”

Shockwave paused, sensing an opportunity. “What intelligence I have gathered so far is no concern of yours. But perhaps we both may benefit by pooling our information and resources. I am seeking allies for a mission – to conquer the Aldebaran Ark, enact vengeance upon our captors, and return to Earth with their technology as spoils of war! Though it pains me to rely on humans, desperate times call for desperate measures indeed. Will you join my Aldebaran Decepticon Legion?”

Prowl was doing his best not to just stare openly, but this was just too weird. He wished, a little bit, that things would stop being weird for once, just for a little while. Instead of voicing this, however, he just nodded a little as Shockwave spoke.

“Right. Sure. Great. Leader of the Decepticons.” Just what he wanted to hear. More absolute nonsense. Maybe Prowl had died and this was actually hell. That would explain a lot, actually. He weighed the options of joining forces with Shockwave in his mind. On the one hand--he is a Decepticon. That didn’t sit especially well with Prowl, even if this Shockwave was pretty obviously not a real threat to anyone, unless he stepped on their feet or something. On the other hand, Prowl was shorter on friends than usual, and being disembodied and unarmed in this “ark” might be a little less dangerous if he had someone on his side. Even a monocular purple idiot. 

Prowl nodded. “Yeah, whatever. What are your plans to exact revenge and return to Earth? Are there any other members of the Aldebaran Decepticon Legion? Do you have a ship?” He suspected the answers would be no, but Prowl didn’t have many other prospects.

[z-ero-b]

You’re a monster.

[800movingobjects-blog]

theenrichmentcenter‌:

“Rats, and birds,” she pulled her arm out of the wall to gesture dismissively, “and bears. They’re the native inhabitants, presumably.” GLaDOS allowed the look, but she didn’t exactly move to accommodate him, either.  “I am the Genetic Lifeform and Disc Operating System. Here’s a friendly tip, by the way: don’t ask everyone you meet if they’re responsible for this. They invariably are not.”

“Oh.” Prowl’s expression didn’t change. Honestly, he wasn’t sure what rats, birds, or bears were. “Sure.” He squinted at her. “Thanks for the tip, Genetic Lifeform and Whatever Thing System. Just how many people around here, then? Do they all call you that?” He smiled, not kindly. This was petty, but he was having a rough day. He eyeballed the panel still, curious but afraid to step forward in case it, oh, exploded.

[800movingobjects-blog]

logic--dictates‌:

Shockwave looks up from his analysis of the beach. He had been heartened when his sensors detected a silica-based environment, but disappointment followed as he found a pointless expanse of Earth “sand.” Was this another wretched organic world, then? He would have to see what he could do about that once he was in charge.

“Another oversized human wretch! I’m amazed your frail meat body doesn’t collapse under its own weight.” Shockwave’s voice carried the sneer that his face could not express. “How do you know my name, fleshling? Your tone indicates surprise - suggesting that you are not among my captors. If you value your brief life, you will answer to Shockwave!”

Prowl stared, mouth slightly agape. Either Shockwave had lost his damn mind--not impossible, all things considered--or this was not the same Shockwave Prowl had come to know and hate. He shook his head, feeling a headache threatening him as he tried to process what Shockwave had said. “Uh, right. Yes. No. I’m not responsible for this.” Prowl rubbed his forehead, thinking, before fixing Shockwave with one of the coldest looks in his arsenal.

“Nevermind how I know you. You’re a... scientist. Right?” He faltered somewhat. Maybe this Shockwave wasn’t as intellectually inclined as the one he knew. Given all the shouting, it was a possibility. “Do you know anything about this place? What it is? Where it is?”

[800movingobjects-blog]

dangerousallies‌:

The Diplomat has been meticulously searching each car of the train for the better part of two hours, going over seams, shelves, even the undersides of seats for hidden compartments or anything else to indicate that this train is not what it seems. So far, the biggest mystery they’ve encountered is the complete lack of filth or detritus wiped off against the bottom of any seats - either the masters of Aldebaran employ the world’s only custodians conscientious or well-paid enough to willingly touch any part of the area below the knee on a public train, or all this is brand new, freshly constructed for the new prisoners. Once the Diplomat gets bored enough to seriously start to ponder which possibility is more likely, they know it’s time for a break.

How fortunate, then, to see a new face enter the carriage, if a rather sullen one. The Diplomat gives them a sidelong glance from where they stand, still idly fingering the unfamiliar material of the window sill in apparent fascination.

“Not having a good day, friend?” they ask mildly, tilting their head to the side at Prowl.

Prowl didn’t even look up when the Diplomat addressed them. “I’m not your friend,” he said, almost reflexively, and then crossed his legs agitatedly. “And no, actually, I’m not. Actually, I haven’t caught a single break for the past five m--five. Years.” Was five years a reasonable amount of time for a human to have lived? Prowl wasn’t sure, but he could say for a fact they didn’t last five million. 

“Just what is it to you? Are you stuck here too?” Prowl finally looked at the Diplomat, giving them a quick up and down. He had absolutely no idea what information their appearance gave about them. He sneered nonetheless.

[goodluckracing]

X Files intro messages

[wind-wave]

Spotlight Prowl Cover by ~dcjosh

Pencils: Nick Roche

Colors: Josh Burcham

[dsfffwegerh]

WHO IS GOING TO BE AT BOTCON????

ME!!!

See you there guys!

[foulserpent]

i love the fact that like… if you wanted to you could throw a chair… stool…. lamp… medium sized houseplant… even a lightweight table…. theres nothing physically stopping you from throwing furniture around, only social constructs and your own cowardice.

[hellsangels23]

Umm and the fact you will either Break your perfectly good furniture that you would have to replace or break something else that maybe more expensive.

Sure those furniture arent heavy but they are weirdly shaped and have different areas that are more weighted down. You can end up hurting yourself if you throw wrong.

You might throw it in another persons direction.

Social constructs my ass. Its common sense to not throw shit around.

[foulserpent]

so basically what youre describing thats stopping you here is

social constructs (money, ‘good’ furniture)

cowardice (”You can end up hurting yourself” “You might throw it in another persons direction.”)

so my point still stands

[800movingobjects-blog]

theenrichmentcenter‌:

GLaDOS’ head jerked, one hand shoved behind the wall to search for leverage. Annoying, but at least she didn’t seem to have to start pretending to explain herself. 

“I am not,” she said, though more than once she’d found herself wishing she was. How insulting, to be on the other side of the glass! “I have no more idea how I got here than you do, and everyone besides the hideous talking animals seems to be in the same boat.” She turned back to the wall, trying a more dextrous maneuver this time. “I can’t believe you humans were allowed to keep your own horrifying bodies, but I had to get stuck with a rental.” This last part was mostly to herself, though not any quieter - there’d be no point in insulting anyone if they couldn’t hear it.

“Talking animals?” Prowl narrowed his eyes, mood shifting from suspicion to irritation. GLaDOS seemed to be telling the truth, which was maybe worse than if she were lying; if she really wasn’t responsible, then who was? Prowl straightened slightly, crossing his arms and tilting his head forward slightly. “Humans. Right. And what are you? Since you’re obviously not... human.” He took a small step to the right, trying to get a better look at the mechanism that she was trying to access.

[800movingobjects-blog]

crossfactional‌:

Perceptor is somewhat surprised by how quickly Prowl replies. How interesting, to receive an immediate response from only bot he’s ever known to be busier than Perceptor himself.

“Oh, believe me,” he mutters grimly, eyes focused on the box of cy-gars sitting atop his dresser.  “It’s not convenient in the slightest. Merely statistically the most likely.”

He decided to keep his suppositions regarding Aequitas to himself. If this was some sort of punishment for failing to retrieve and submit the data, he had no desire to hear what Prowl was going to say about it. And if it wasn’t…..well, he wasn’t fond of letting on about the failure to retrieve the data.

Perceptor didn’t want to tell Prowl about his whereabouts. He found it enthralling, knowing something the other didn’t. It did make him wonder, though. Was he the type to withhold information from his superiors now? The type to lie to his superiors?

Was Prowl still his superior, here? 

He didn’t know the answers to any of these things.

“I cannot say where I am,” he replies, flatly. Technically true. From the tone of Prowl’s voice, and the allusion to “a situation”, Perceptor assumes the other Autobot is as thoroughly confused as he is. Perhaps he is stuck in a holomatter avatar, as well. He experiences some schadenfreude imagining this.

His glance wanders over to the screen of the datapad.

“Does Aldebaran mean anything to you?”

Even as Perceptor is replying, Prowl is stalking down the stairs and through the lobby and out of the front door of the--his?--residence, only to find that outside it was both storming and freezing. Feeling the cold was rather unusual, but he didn’t have time to contemplate it as he immediately ran back inside and slammed the door. He almost screamed aloud, but managed to prevent any severe outbursts of property damage. However, his reply to Perceptor was obviously dripping in frustration and annoyance. “Shut up. I don’t need your snide comments at the moment.” Prowl pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, trying to fight the headache that had not quite gone away since he woke up.

“Okay. Aldebaran. Never heard of it. No, wait, a star. Red, massive. Humans consider it part of one of their constellations, Tartarus or something.” Prowl sighed, casting a glance around the room he was in. Dim, uninviting. Disgustingly organic in almost every way. He could practically taste the place rotting around him. “Why? What does that have to do with anything?”

[800movingobjects-blog]

@logic--dictates

When Prowl opened his comm channel, Perceptor wasn’t actually the only one available. Perceptor was the only recognized contact, yes, but there were a few other strange signatures that Prowl assumed must be alien mechanicals in the area on a similar frequency. Except one.

There was a single signature that was unmistakably Cybertronian, but not anything he had ever seen before. Sure, there were plenty of Cybertronians that he’d never met, and more than that that he just couldn’t remember, but this was just different enough that it begged the question: just who else was here?

Finding himself without any minions, spies, or little birds to find out for him, Prowl decided to do some leg work. Literally. Tracking the signature wasn’t terribly hard, though he did have to take one of the bizarre space-trains to an area quite different from where his own quarters were. A beach, and quite a beautiful one by Earth standards, he guessed. And what he saw there could not have been more surprising: Shockwave?! But small, human-sized, and in a frame that Prowl was pretty sure Shockwave hadn’t inhabited in millennia. Yet there he was, and indeed he was the origin of that bizarre comm signal. Prowl stared, mouth slightly agape in confusion and... annoyance. Why was this guy still mechanical when he was stuck in a fleshy holomatter avatar? “Shockwave?!”