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@blackwldcw
áŽÊÉȘᎠáŽáŽáŽ ê±áŽÊáŽáŽáŽÉȘᎠᎠÊáŽáŽáŽ áŽáŽÉŽáŽÉŽ-ÊáŽê±áŽáŽ áŽÉŽáŽ áŽáŽÊáŽÉȘ-ê°áŽÉŽáŽ áŽáŽ ÉȘÉŽáŽáŽÊáŽÊáŽáŽáŽáŽÉȘáŽÉŽ áŽê° áŽÊáŽÉŽê±ê°áŽÊáŽáŽÊê±' ÊÊáŽáŽáŽáŽÊáŽáŽÊÉŽÉȘáŽ. ᎥáŽÊê± ê±áŽáŽÉŽ ÊÊ: áŽáŽáŽ.
ÊáŽáŽáŽ ÊáŽÊáŽê± & áŽÊáŽáŽáŽ ÊáŽê°áŽÊᎠÉȘÉŽáŽáŽÊáŽáŽáŽÉȘÉŽÉą.
Dude, so much has happened. So, Iâm gonna give you an update to explain why Iâm going to be slow in returning.
My husband and I had to kick our other partner out of our apartment last night. Heâs proven to be very toxic and deals with substance abuse. He refused our help time and time again, and so we had to let him go.
He really fucked with me physically and mentally and Iâm still recovering. Thank you all for being patient. I love you all.
Mental health has taken another tank, boils and ghouls. I need more rest. I should be more active next month.
â So, Blackarachnia is built more like a human than any extraterrestrial beings like the Salamandrian, Triceratons, or any other Dimension X dwellers. They're superior to Earth's native dwellers though, and that's what matters to the Kraang.
"Well, the breathers that were constructed by us are mere collars. Easy to hide. I can rebuild one here for you to deal with Dimension X's atmosphere." Building something solid is a lot less challenging to him than working with chemicals to alter mutagen, anyway. It frustrates him that there's not really much in his saved files he can work with, but he doesn't want to admit that he's not sure how to dilute and alter the mutagen effectively just yet. He'll bring it up later, after figuring out how to do so without sounding like a sore loser.
He expected GHOST to be potentially interested in catching or eliminating him and it was a dumb question on hindsight. He's trying to figure out the whole picture out there and the more he learns, the less does the EFP fit into the whole picture. Not with Bishop taking care of it, anyway. Subprime huffs and shakes his head. He'll figure out the current role of his stick-in-the-mud brother later to deal with him and the rest of the Council. Right now he got other, more important things to focus on. "Oh, I'm not worried about these losers. It's a bunch of stupid humans getting their clumsy hands on technology beyond their simple grasp! We'll get rid of them as soon as we have the mutagen ready!" He presses a button to revert the suit into what's supposed to look like a human teenager. Pieces and bits of clothes and fake skin are missing and it's obvious it needs quite a lot of work. "I don't assume you can create a holosuit for me instead?" He muses out loud as he sits on the ground now to muster the exosuit sceptically.
A hidden brow quirks, and the arachnid tilts their head in clear interest at the other's own little trick. A solid matter projection connected to the biosuit. It's more than impressive; and it will be even more so once it's been properly repaired.
"Perhaps," they hum, four eyes scanning the outer mechanisms with a curious and eager light. "Better than creating something from scratch, at the very least. However, something tells me that we'll need to make some... alterations. If I'm correct in assuming so, your current identity has been compromised. This Bishop will know you when he sees you."
They briefly turn their attention back to the device on their arm guard, typing in a few characters before scanning a long list of inventory.
"If I've your permission, Subprime, I could repair this, as well as help you forge a new identity. I'm no stranger to hacking into this poor excuse of a government's mainframe. Forging documents has proven to be child's play."
borrowing a friend's wi-fi. should be on a bit more!
It had been truly amazing how far Trailcutter had gotten in such a short amount of time. But of course, he was steadily becoming lost, and it was getting darker now on the horizon. Sunsets on Cybertron were rather beautiful when one wasn't in the way of giant buildings blocking the view, but that didn't stop the drunken mech from trying to stop and stare into the slowly blackening night, at the swirls of light slowly dissipating into the canvas of darkness, sprinkled with a canvas of stars. He'd been so lost in his own little world in that moment that he hadn't realized that there were also a few others looking his direction as well, but they weren't enthused by the sunset like he was.
"Huh--?!" Oh, a bot...At least, he hoped it was a bot. There had been times he'd been caught by Swerve talking to a glass or the wall thinking it was someone, and for a brief moment the other wasn't sure if he was talking to someone actually there or not. But they had approached him, so he'd say...Yes, they were real. "My apologies Ma'am....Mister...? I--I'm so sorry I'm a bit of a mess...You're real though, right? I-I'm not talkin' to myself again, or...Am i..?" He slurred, resting another servo on the wall to keep himself balanced. This was a lot worse than his previous times getting drunk, he felt woozy, his tanks lurched and his intake ached, he was debating if he was going to purge or not, but that rather soft, soothing voice seemed to keep his processor busy enough not to focus on the nausea. He looked in the direction of the staring Decepticons and then back, he'd barely been able to register they were even there. "Huh...Well, I'm not lookin' for no fight here, I jus' need to get back to the Lost Light, we've been parked for a bit waitin' on a supply run before we head off again, If....If you know any way over, i'd appreciate it very much. He seemed desparate now, a soft frown of concern for himself appearing on his faceplates not a moment after speaking.
"I also hope this ain't forward or nothin' I promise I mean nothin' behind it, but...Is there a chance I could hold a servo or somethin' on ya..? If I let go of this wall, I'm gonna go down real hard, S'really hard to walk on my pedes.."
The Lost Light. âTch, figures,â the web-weaver murmured with a grimace. A ship full of a bunch of has-beens and hangers-on who thought that everyoneâs problems would be magically solved if the Knights of Cybertron were found. As a scientist, they had little regard for folktales or wishing stars, and even less for people abandoning their home planet during the rebuilding effort.
They eyed him up and down, brow furrowing. Still, they supposed theyâd be nice. He looked like he was about to empty his tanks all over the pavement, and letting someone die, even if he was an idiot and an Autobot, wouldnât do wonders for their image.
They grumbled a curse in their native tongue before grasping onto the botâs larger servo. They were obviously stronger than their size implied. They were able to help keep the stranger upright with little issue or complaint.
âAnd itâs neither mister nor maâam. Just call me Blackarachnia.â
As they painstakingly moved forward in the dim light, they observed the group of âCons unsubtly point in their direction and then disperse. A shadow of a smirk crossed their features. Their venomous reputation still proceeded them.
âAnd what should I call you?â
"Yes, well who else could match such a strong personality?" he asked in amusement. They said something about how opposites attracted, but Megatron wasn't so sure about that. He and Blackarachnia shared so much in common. If anything, that allowed them both to understand and respect each other.
His optics remained on the multiple ones. Some may have been uncomfortable or even turned off by the fact that she had four, but that meant all the view to admire him in, right?
"I should not have risked it... Any excuse for Prowl to have me locked away in a cell for the rest of my life. But..." His hand tightened just a little at her grip and the thought of someone having tried to kill her.
"I will not deny that it made me feel alive." He scoffed though, his optics falling from theirs. "I am supposed to be getting better. I should feel ashamed for having brought justice by my own hands. But what they did to you. It was unforgivable. The war is over."
Strong personality. They chuckled in the back of their throat, smile widening with a twitch. Certainly, there had always been a kinship between them. They were both headstrong and outspoken, as well as passionate for the causes in which they believed.
And they were both clad in heartache and war, despite those current days of so-called peace.
Their eyes briefly flickered to their side, still wrapped in gauze. At the very least, the wound would leave a very dashing scar, and serve as a testament that their assassin failed. They survived and would continue to do so out of spite.
Even if they received little thanks, Cybertron was still their home, and they would fight to see it flourish again.
âBetter?â they echoed with a furrowed brow, reaffirming eye contact. âYou are better still. I would never want you to stop fighting for justice.â Their black lips twisted into a frown. âWhat do you think Prowl would have done with an Autobot trying to assassinate a Decepticon? They would have been placed in prison for a few stellar cycles maybe, and then released for good behaviour. So much still needs to change.â
They lifted their entwined hands and bent their head to bestow a kiss upon his knuckles. âBesides, the only complaint I have is you not letting me have a turn, or at least watch.â They glanced up at him through half-lidded eyes. âSeeing you in action has always thrilled me.â
She's.. surprised at the offer presented to her, though she does her best to not draw attention to it. Her eyes dart around the room once more, as if expecting one of the Autobots to come bursting in at the revelation.
But nothing happens, and the silence hangs in the air for a moment. She shuffles and rearranges herself, shoulders hunching inwards as she contemplates her options.
Julie has always been a people pleaser, always worried that her choices were going to disappoint someone. It had been trained into her from a young age. She can still remember her parents faces when she told them she was going to major in history and not go to nursing or law school. But her parents weren't here, and she didn't care what they thought, not in the moment. She didn't have to stay here, and be treated like she was dangerous, or like she was in the way.
But it would mean betraying the flimsy trust that Optimus had in her. Would he see her as an enemy if she left with their prisoner?
"Let's say that if you were to escape tonight, you might need help--though I'm sure you'd be more than capable of getting out of here alone. Hypothetically, of course. But if someone were to get you a set of NEST fatigues.. They would see a solider escorting a high-priority civilian, and not a prisoner breaking out. But, I'm sure you already have a plan, so said civilian is more than willing to follow your lead."
She can't believe that she's going through with this. Though she does wonder what made the Decepticon take an interest in her in the first place.
What if it was all a trap? What if she went from being an almost prisoner to an actual one?
Julie wasn't known for trusting people, because it usually came back to bite her in the ass, but.. maybe just this once, everything would be fine.
The holoformâs dark eyes shrewdly regard Julie. They can all but see the cogs turning in the humanâs mind, and they try to quell a small smirk of triumph when they hear her suggestions. Honest, intelligent, and clever. Blackarachnia thinks that they and Julie will get along swimmingly.
âBlitzwing and I were going to raze this place to the ground, but youâre right. Subtlety is key here.â
They tilt their head at the sound of heavy footfall. Probably Optimus arriving to interrogate them again. They clench their jaw. They arenât sure how long the Prime is going to stick with heavy scolding before he moves onto more physical tactics, but they refuse to show that theyâre afraid.
Blitzwing is coming. They would not die like this.
âCome back here at 0200 with those fatigues. I can handle myself until then.â
Any further commands die in their mouth the moment the bay doors open and Optimus steps inside, the ground trembling beneath them with his every step.
To their credit, they donât flinch when he slams a fist into the ground, mere centimetres from their legs.
"Really, now?" Pharma fondly smiled down at Mira. His expression was gentle, unlike the usual, haughty demeanor he seemed to constantly wear. He had to bite back a chuckle at her pronunciation.
"How fascinating." he spoke, with no trace of his usual, cold demeanor. "You seem to be taking more and more after your mother each day." Who is quite the intelligent femme and apparently educator as well.
Before he himself even knew it, the doctor reached down to pat the child on the head - its size dwarfing the child's head.
Truly her mother's daughter. No more than six and already learning microbiology.
The doctor could find no room for doubt that this child held amazing promise. This would be a fine scientist, or even doctor some day! And he would do everything in his power to help he reach her true potential.
"I would like to give you something, if you promise that you'll take excellent care of it if I give it to you."
Mira beamed under the attention, smiling and looking up at Pharma as if he were the greatest being in the universe. And whatâs this? He was even giving her a gift because of how well she studied while he was at work?
And since he warned her to take excellent care of it, it must be special.
Mama was sleeping, so she couldnât clap; instead, she took to hopping in place, hands shaking. âReally? You wannaââ Realising how loud she was being, her eyes widened, and she tried again in a dramatic whisper. âYou wanna give me a special gift?â
She grinned. âOh, yes! Yes, please! Iâll take very good care of it. I promise!â
"My apologies, Nia..." Humiliated, Pharma couldn't meet her gaze. But he was no fool. he knew they knew. They always knew. About the fear, the guilt, the loneliness, the crushing weight of uncertainty. He could never share them, but he didn't have to. Blackarachnia already knew.
âIt was of a incident long ago..." Pharma finally brings himself to look at them,figuring that would be enough to dismiss the subject and transition on to more lighthearted ones.
After a moment of hesitation, he met them half way, gently offering her hand a gentle squeeze. "I just donât want to be alone right now...â Though he was embarrassed, he was silently grateful to have them there.
An incident long ago. Of course they already knew. They didnât survive all those millions of years on looks, or even brains, alone. They were a very astute beingâ however, it didnât take a degree in quantum mechanics to figure out that Pharma felt immense guilt over Delphi. He carried it with him every day, in the stoop of his shoulders and the tense corners of his mouth.
âI was bound to wake up anyway,â they waved away his apology. âRivets Field was just the start of my very long project, and when Mira is asleep, I like to take advantage of the quiet to work.â
One of their thumbs absent-mindedly brushed over the knuckles of Pharmaâs servo. âAfter Iacon and Kaon have been revived, Starscream and I were thinking about moving on to Vos. Thatâs where youâre from, isnât it?â
@13urningstars asked: "Nia, my darling, would you do me the honor of being the third member of my newly finalized MILF club? " Is she joking? No. Milf club is a thing.
"MILF club? Ha! How flattering~"
"I accept."
So some complete and utter fool cut a wire while our flat was being remodelled so yet again, S.pectrum can do nothing today. They have to fill out a bunch of paperwork with our complexâs office because everything needs to be rewired and then theyâll contact us to reschedule.
Mad, furious, overwhelmed. I canât trim my bloody posts without WI-FI
Bi icon for pride month!
Wi-fi should (hopefully) be set up by tomorrow afternoon. Iâll spend this evening working on drafts so I can post them tomorrow as soon as theyâre trimmed.
@css-stupid-boatman asked: Do da do, do da do, OH HERE IT IS! A FORTUNE TELLER! Love the themes around here, with the purple and the webs! Its nice and macabre, in a homey sorta way! So uh, pardon me comin in unannounced but I was hoping you could tell me ma fortune, since im stranded on Cybertron for a bit until screamer lets me know if I can ride him back to the lost light. Uh, i know how that sounds but its consensual! Wait... ah just, if you could I would love ta know ma fortune!
(The blue hydrobot walks into the lair, unassuming and unafraid of the decorum around. He strides confidently, perhaps absentmindedly)
Oh, if looks could kill.
Having a stranger barge into their home, despite a highly advanced security system, is enough to raise their blood pressure as is, but for him to make demands for something so asinine and⊠insulting as a fortune is enough to make them see red.
Their daughter squeaks and scuttles away as they march forward to meet him head on. Their sharp fangs are bared in a snarl, and their secondary legs are flared in an intimidation display.
âYou have five nano-kliks to leave my home, or I swear to Onyx, people will never stop finding pieces of your dismembered body.â
@staticsqueaks asked: Hosin comes in and smoothes a god Star sticker against your servo before sticking a smaller sticker right between your babyâs optics.
The Eukarian glances downward, brow raising. Is that a⊠gold star sticker? They blink slowly. H uh. Well, theyâve certainly been given stranger offerings. âThanks, I guess.â
Mira, meanwhile, is absolutely delighted with the gift. Sheâs busy trying to cross her eyes so that she can see the sticker, giggling with every near success.
