we all have a debt to pay.

Perceptor. Scientist, Sniper, Wrecker. Currently stuck in holomatter avatar. Affiliated with Aldebaran Sea.

[templarsalad]

“how’d you become a sniper? i thought you were a scientist.” “same as the rest of us– unfortunate circumstances.”

ill rework this later and make it decent to look at but right now i need some stress relie f

[crossfactional]

800movingobjects‌:

Did it ever get old? Waking up in an unfamiliar room, head splitting as Prowl tried to guess just which old friend/enemy had it in for him today? Maybe one day he would be able to take it in stride, lose that kidnap-panic and really mean the sardonic smile he prepared for whoever was watching him. He onlined his optic sensors–no, that’s not quite right. He opened his eyes, confused, and sat up in a… nest?

Prowl squinted in the dim room, realizing that what he was sitting in was a form of human sleeping accommodation, a soft mattress covered in feather-stuffed pillows and sheets and a heavy comforter. A million thoughts raced through his mind even as he climbed out of bed and took stock of his surroundings. Clearly, he was using a holomatter avatar; otherwise he wouldn’t even fit in this strange little room. But when had he activated it? Why couldn’t he seem to access his normal body? Where was he, and who had brought him there? Questions without answers, for the time being. Distantly, Prowl became aware of a comm ping in the din of his pounding head. Thankful that at least he was still in possession of his facilities, if not the hardware, he opened the comm.

Perceptor? Admittedly, on the list of ‘bots that Prowl had on his mind for this particular incident-in-the-making, Perceptor did not make even the top fifty. But then the comm message seemed to accuse Prowl of having orchestrated this. More than that, as Prowl quickly scanned for other comm frequencies in range, he found that the two of them seemed to be the only Cybertronians for miles.

Tamping down the rising fear and, admittedly, annoyance, Prowl answered the comm. “As convenient as I’m sure you think it is to blame every problem in the known universe on me, I’m kind of dealing with my own situation right now. In fact, I’m not sure this has anything to do with me at all, so save it. Where are you?”

Even as he was messaging Perceptor, Prowl was sweeping the place manually for any kind of surveillance or traps. He found none, but still, when he found the door to the room unlocked, he threw it open and hurried out. The holophone on the bedside table was hardly spared a second glance; no way Prowl was going to willingly hold on to a tracking device.

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?”

[crossfactional]

theenrichmentcenter‌:

“Well,” GLaDOS says, delighted to have gotten an equal response, “Since we’re speaking, I might as well tell you now that you’re not going to like whatever you find up there.” She’s turned around to inspect the details of Perceptor’s avatar - they’re very well made. Funny that humans will go to such lengths to look robotic.

“I’m not sure why all of you love to process your emotional trauma in public. It’s the same thing every time.” 

Perceptor stops partway into the elevator, glancing backwards. So there is something to find on the surface. “Is that so?”

He turns in the elevator doorway, tucking both arms behind his back, hands clutching the datapad. “It’s fortunate, then, that I care little about liking what I find, merely that I find it.”

A beat.

“Nor do I care about what you presume is going on in my head,” he mutters, lips curling into a sardonic parody of a polite smile. “Thank you.”

He considers stepping away, leaving behind this strange woman with her cruel eyes. But, it’s been a long day. She’s the only sign of life he’s witnessed thus far—which, if he’s being honest, isn’t that special when he’s been holed up in his room for what he can only assume was “all day”—and somehow, her acerbity was welcome. He wouldn’t know what to do if he’d had an encounter with someone normal.

Perceptor sighs, and steps back out of the elevator.

“What did you find on the surface?”

[theenrichmentcenter-blog]

@crossfactional​

This far down, GLaDOS has stopped trying the private doors, and started trying to figure out whether Bì Xiù terminates before the ocean floor - and if not, what keeps it stable, instead of a very impressive pile of glass. Now on the fourth floor, she circles the internal aquarium before making to exit the elevator area - and promptly collides with another body, coming carelessly around the wall.

“Excuse me,” she says icily, plainly meaning “drop dead” instead of anything more polite.

[crossfactional]

It was when the avatar’s hands began to shake that Perceptor freed himself from the confines of his room.

He had tried staring into the watery abyss, for a time. He searched the darkness, and imagined the plexiglass of his wall cracking, buckling under the weight of an ocean, the water flooding in and carrying him away. Drowning him. He did not consider the avatar “himself”—despite the technology’s inherent link to the Cybertronian psyche—but he did know that if it died, he would as well.

Perceptor decided he did not care for what he saw in the sea.

And so, he sought to escape it for now. He surmised that there was a surface to this ocean, and endeavored to find out what lay beyond it. He fingered through the avatar’s wardrobe, pulling out what he presumed to be appropriate professional wear.*  He tucked the datapad into the pocket of the overcoat and closed the door of his assigned quarters behind him. The search of the surface wasn’t a distraction. It was a task. The first among many.  Perceptor spots what he presumes to be an elevator and makes his way towards it, glancing down at his datapad to pull open an application in which he could take notes. Moments later, he finds his movement stopped by solid metal.

Perceptor is utterly appalled at the stupidity of having run into a wall and looks up. Ah, not a wall. Another person. He straightens up and eyes the offending mass, and for the briefest of moments a spark of curiosity lights in his mind. It occurs to him that this is the first person he’d seen since his arrival. One who does not appear too much different from himself—robotic, sturdy, obviously possessed by some kind of purpose. Even the cut of the hair is similar to that of his avatar.

The tone of their voice does not surprise Perceptor, as the expression written across their face had already made clear everything he needed to know.

“You are excused,” is his curt reply. He stifles the curiosity, files it away, and moves to pass into the elevator.

* A short black dress, with a decorative turtleneck collar and long sleeves, and opaque black tights underneath. A slim black coat is worn atop the dress, buttoned up to the throat. The avatar’s cybernetic upgrades peek out from beneath her clothing: a flash of stabilizers built into a hand can be seen from under the coat sleeve, and through her hair one can see a metal plate starting at the nape of her neck and curving to cup her jaw. Her eyes seem off, severe and focused, yet distant...

[crossfactional]

@800movingobjects

Why did it have to be Prowl?

Of all people to be stuck with on this infernal “Ark”.

Prowl.

Perceptor mulled this over, pacing his room. He felt as if his skin were aflame.

After everything he’d just endured in that hell that was Garrus-9. The shell of Fortress Maximus, barely clinging to life, Perceptor’s own hands digging into the poor bot’s head. So much blood energon—both friend and foe—splattered around him, on him. Shattered red optics above a leering, unfeeling grin.

All for Aequitas, no doubt.

Perceptor came to a stop in front of his mirror, meeting his avatar’s chilly gaze. His thoughts raced through his head faster than he could process them. 

He avoided the deluge of his own unvoiced questions by averting his gaze, returning it to the datapad in his hands. Held his anger, resentment, guilt—all of it—close. He would adapt, as he always does. He would solve this problem, no matter the cost. 

It’s not like he had anything to lose, now, anyways.

With that, he decided to contact Prowl. If he felt condemned by that decision....well, he had to maintain some sort of control over himself, the situation. He had to pursue all routes of information and if that meant pulling information from Prowl—anger, resentment, guilt—then that’s what he would do.

Perceptor’s thumb hovered over Prowl’s name on the datapad for a moment. He considered this, and put the tablet down. He opened his comm-link and pulled up Prowl’s ID.

“What have you done this time, Prowl?” 

[crossfactional]

The first thing Perceptor is aware of is a hum. That hum, right behind his optics, is always the first thing he’s aware of when he powers on, after a particularly difficult recharge. However, this hum was not that hum. This hum was coming from...an external source?

Odd, that. He tries to remember what had happened the night before as he monitors his booting systems. At first, nothing. He notes unusual activity in systems that shouldn’t be consuming these types of resources — then, a vague, distorted image of Overlord’s face, one optic shattered and leaking fluid. An enormous, white arm swatting Perceptor aside  like an insect, and —

(Oh, no, no —)

Panic doesn’t creep into his gut, it strikes, like blaster fire straight to his spark. Perceptor tries to force it down, but it’s too late stop it taking hold of his body and making his lines run cold. He vents, shaky, and waits until the trembling settles down. It’s not the first time he’s awoken in a panic, after all.

He powers on his optics, except....he can’t. Instead, he opens eyes and blinks, frowning.

What?

This is somewhere new. Somewhere….small, quiet. Some sort of habitation room. Certainly not Garrus-9. Certainly not the Wreckers’ medbay. Perceptor’s hands instinctively flash to his hips, expecting the grips of pistols to comfort him. They don’t. In fact, they’re not even there. Instead, he finds himself groping...a pair of fleshy thighs? He glances down to see his own hands—also flesh—gripping his own(?!) thighs.

Ah. Well. Perceptor was not one to jump to immediate value judgments, but in his professional and very reasonable opinion….given his last known location, this could be very, very, very bad. He didn’t allow himself to entertain the possibilities that might lie in wait for him. Instead, he opts to find out what they are. He closes his eyes to focus on sifting through his mind. He may be in a fleshy body, but he still has access to his own body’s internal systems.

It seems clear that the form he is currently occupying is that of a holomatter avatar. This bothered Perceptor, considering he hadn’t used a holomatter avatar in hundreds of years. He had no reason to. Why would he be using one now? Why can’t he remove his consciousness from it and return to his own body? Where is the generator projecting his avatar?

He accesses his communications systems, hoping to see a friendly name. He finds...one name. One he wouldn’t necessarily consider amicable. One that he suspects may have something to do with this new situation. 

He’ll save Prowl for later.

Perceptor sighs and wills himself to search the room. No rifle. No pistols. His lens-cleaning paraphernalia, slides, and slide covers remained untouched, to Perceptor’s…withering relief. They’re also...disproportionately large, in comparison to his avatar. Useless for now. He’s not sure if he’s relieved that Kup’s cy-gars also remain untouched.

It’s not all losses, however. Among his own belongings, he finds a thick, plastic card inscribed “Ark Transit”, as well as a small device resembling a datapad. He powers it on and narrows his eyes at the message on the screen.

“Welcome to the Ark, Perceptor.”

[leseanthomas-deactivated2021030]

THE COST OF AMBITION: - Late nights, early mornings. Lots of associates, few friends. You will be misunderstood. - You will be single unless you’re lucky enough to find someone who understands your lifestyle. - People will want you to do good, so long as you don’t do better than them… …and for those reasons, you will most-likely do many things alone.

(via leseanthomas)

[aldebaransea]

I am applying for Perceptor from IDW Transformers, under prior reserve. Application is located under /app. Thank you!

Welcome to the Ark, Perceptor! You will be housed in Bi Xiu Flats, fourth floor.

You are assigned the rank New Moon. You also receive a holophone, train pass, and 50 Moon Points.

You seem to be stuck in your holomatter avatar form for the time being. How strange! Your dual pistols and sniper rifle will be taken away for safekeeping. Not that you could currently lift them anyways.

Please be sure to update your app with any powers that have been retained, nerfed, or removed for the time being.

[thegloomyhermit]

Snow storms always make the night so much brighter.

[astrofanatic]

Winter Milky Way - Most people concentrate on the core of the milky way but in the UK we only really see that part for about 3 months in the summer. So here is the what we see in the winter. This is an 83 second exposure with my camera sat on the SkyTracker. IS0 640

[latepivi]

wreck and rule, right?

[sandlake]

[traveldowntown]

[judusart]

Doodles. I didn’t have much time to draw a good pic but I’m really want to practice myself so I use this “Lack of time” as a opportunity to improve myself. I set a timer at 30 min and draw every pic in my head.

[doo-doong]

Hey, percy! Look at this!

…

[furtho]

Simon Roberts’ photograph of an abandoned warship, Kola Bay, Murmansk, Russia, 2005 (via everyday i show)

[wowtastic-nature]

💙 Aurora over Norway on 500px by Kolbjørn Hoseth Larssen, Stokmarknes, Norge ☀  NIKON D600-f/4.5-6s-24mm-iso640, 3943✱5906px-rating:76.9