(The oc above is not mine- Only the doodle. She belongs to the tagged below!)
Well.
-
Hello there, welcome to my page! I'm just an artist who gets carried away, I dabble in writing as well!
Currently playing in @quibble-auk 's sandbox of Transformers ocs and Lore, check her out it's all outstanding and referenced in a huge chunk of my work.
I also have an original species that is being worked on :D (Look under "Pretender" if you're curious~)
Slowly-
-
(starts of series maybe?? Plus my main Frog)
Cometeater- A transformers Oc that has taken over my blog, his beginning, though huge pieces of him are scattered all over.
Dropmix Trials- Dropmix and Comet meet. The beginning of a series continued on Quibbles blog!
Deep within. - Comet is sent out on a routine recon mission, and it does not go well.
An Eye for an Eye- Comet and Dropmix come to terms, and in a way that is lacking violence this time. (Dropmix is not mine ofc)
Canyons- Takes place in the Custody au, Cometeater finds a canyon and hopes to God he can find his way home.
-=
(To be warned this blog has SO many aus, its crazy. I regret nothing. But here's maybe a more...Comprehensible list of them? Maybe not?)
-=
Horns and Razors au- A swap au where the war never occurs, and Comet becomes a single teen parent in the pits of Kaon. Continued over on Quibbles blog as well!
Perfect World au- An au where Sunrazor finds and adopts an alien and his protective adoptive brothers. Of course continued on Quibbles blog, Sunrazor is hers!
Heart in Hand Au- An au where Cometeater gets adopted by a very different mech as a small child, then left with the beloved Dropmix >:) (Tw this does have child abuse.)
Custody Au- An Au where Comet's brothers get killed and the poor boy is left in the care of his only friend, and said friend's mentor who isn't known for his affection for the Pretender. (The au I made with Quibble to make Dropmix love Comet the only way we could, and it hurts so bad) (Tw mentions of Suicide are prominent)
Dragged Up Au- Based in the 1980s where our aliens get to be human!
*So this is most definitely not all of these, but if you find a silly au tag and want to know more I will be happy to ramble.
.
The tags below should help find any aus or important things/ocs!
So just gonna plop this here while Im thinking about it because who knows if I'll actually get the images out of my head in the forms of doodles so....Ramble.
Was thinking, as I do, and like...
What if your family was extremely successful? What if it had good luck and plenty of good things happened for them and its been that way for generations. Your father seems to never have rivals. Your money is secure, your life is plentiful. Your house is large and the grounds are even larger.
But your family is not the masters of said house. Your mother warned you never to make eye contact with the actual owner of said estate. He owns the floors, the food, the luck.
My dear he owns the blood in your veins and any child you have.
Imagine being rich and having such influence but in return, you're the bargaining chip. Some ancestor of yours sold your very DNA to a thing in exchange for success and grandeur. A creature that will slip away for months at a time, has made appearances in the corner of your eye. Breathed on your face when you slept. Watched every movement it felt like watching. Owns every inch of your family and is amused by your happenings and the goings on of your life. It can walk the earth on the grounds sold to it. Peer from the gate, from the window. Lounge like a lion in your wine cellar because it owns this house. Let the smell of its rot and bloody diet clog the air and deep into the packed earth.
He also makes sure you know it, usually a prideful quiet being that just shows up to check in on what is HIS. Do what he likes and revel in him owning what was once someone else's. Terrorizes the house when it feels as though it's boundaries are being tested, baring teeth whispering every painful thought that's ever been uttered to yourself. It owns you and it will make sure you know. Threaten to cash in what he is owed, either by consuming you or any of your children.
Annoyingly loud babies, bratty children, a son who acts as though because he is a man this is his family and his home.
Suitors who tread too close and he has no care for. He doesn't want them. Silently it was whispered to never let him too deep into your mind, do not cry into his plush fur. Don't test him, do not even talk to that animal when you can. Don't cry when it comes screaming down the hall to bare down on your father because it decided he had made a mistake.
When it sits on your bed smiling and lounging don't you dare tell it to leave.
Yeah this is what happens when you get inspired and the worms start chanting.
This has nothing to do with anything I know I should be work-shopping for a mutual and her wonderful original concepts. But I was attacked and this thought came to me. Powercase happens to belong to said mutual (as tagged below)~
Ebbin had an awful crush on the man before the war, and during the odd slow period during the war she meets him again. Romance does not ensue though because these two are horrible at feelings and its such a slow burn ya'll.
But either way @quibble-auk have this lazy bunch of panels because I love these two so much.
I got inspired, had a wonderful mental image of this thing hobbling around. The weight of the mushrooms keeping it all bent over, probably got bit in the back of the neck and it only got worse.
Extremely inspired by @quibble-auk and her zombie concepts because they give me such joy. Mushrooms and the whole thing, I love it so much. All the coolness is because of her~
My transformer ocs meet my Wild West dinosaur ocs.
POV your like 24 years old and you meet some weird giant humanoid made of metal that claims that he too is only like 20 years old developmentally. How old is he actually? Many millions of years
@thebrokenmechanicalpencil- these guys are like an infection in my brain ahhhhhhhh
Just gonna sit here and giggle over this, oh my gosh-
This is so adorable I love it! Jep and Tanner!! Ughhhh all the doodles are so well done and I just wanna shake you- Pft we don't talk to our brothers club. Damn. The boyos have so much in common, I wanna doodle Comet so bad now. I just realized his bite force would be so horrifying in this. Goes and bites a T. Rex and the thing's skull gives almost immediately and he's so confused. Worried baby noises because wait a minute he didn't like that. He is used to biting alien metal.
The lizard squished.
Would probably be in such a happy place on this planet, makes him think of his home world. Lizardy froggy things. Pfffftttt- He's figuring out Bailey's little noises and just having a dino conversation. A very simple string of understanding and he's having fun. He's the biggest scariest predator here and he giggles like a fifteen year old. That's so off track, I adore these so much.
I am in full support of the worms these goobers are adorable.
Heh this guy is what happens when you get obsessed with geckos and then remember gremlins. So of course I made him and promptly spent way too much time on getting his skin right...
This is what happens when I meander around the blog.
Find old stuff.
From what I remember this dude sold parts of machinery on a black market after stealing them from the human world? Something like that? Sometimes even back to them. But eheheh gecko Gremlins. I remember doing this coloring piece by piece and you can tell~
Maggie gets a doodle, I'm having too much fun drawing the ocs in actual clothes and full body sketches. If I was smart I would have done more but I was way too proud of this so I'm giving in.
She was almost eaten by my program freezing so I'm glad shes ok.
Yeah... I wrote the one thing about these goobers and now I'm thinking about them way too much. And they have been due for a colored design for ages
So without further ado, here is a little sketch of Tanner and Bailey
anyone else find it funny that I completely neglected to draw Tanner's face? I do. I think it's hilarious that I'm not really realizing that now. It's alright though because Imma probably do some more sketches with these guys.
I've missed drawing dinosaurs so much.
oh, and uncolored versions of this are under the cut :)
We have two grayscale options
And then the line art of them separate before I erased stuff... but I'm too lazy to crop it so instead we get social distancing versions of the sketch
Look at the DINO!!! Tanner looks amazing, the clothes and the hat?!?! Girly the colors all look so good, I'm- Jealous in all the best ways. GAHHHHHHHH-
The line art is to die for I swear, I need to practice more. Gotta do that. Its on the list now, that and the handsss??????
Imma just sit here and giggle over how awesome this looks for a bit. Maybe go draw the devil fox and practice some line art because this is just so great.
Just me playing around with some stuff, Eleanor and Ebenezer are both basically the same characters (Base wise~). Just human versions derived from my wonderful OC Ebbinwane who is stern and tired.
So we have these two, I had Eb on my mind and Ellie will always be iconic. Two people coming from a very successful family and having the weight of expectation heavy enough to make them wince. Reputation is everything, the Family is what matters.
When I listen to songs that have a more....Despicable force involved, I always see this slender fox ever so slyly whispering. Maybe its the Devil, swept up in a pretty coat that doesn't fit just right. Amused and yet filled with such a deep earth shattering hatred for man. Crooning with nothing but loathing and jealousy, not quite right. Devouring and dragging off those who get tempted by its sweet words and warm soft fur.
Its a pretty fox, large and otherworldly. It instills a dread so deep its nipping at your very bones. Stomach dropping gaze over a depressed shoulder. A tender murmur for a broken heart, a deep bite when you reach for the things it teases you with. Making you feel like the dirt it wishes it weren't, making you disgrace what loves you.
Waiting for your breath to shiver out one last time and have you so deep into its burrow not even God can steal you away before the fox tears into you.
Eats you whole.
In other words a mutual sent me a song and it's sat there just showing off some rather fun imagery. Made me think of this.
Its just a warmup doodle because I have a few things on the burner and I needed to get him out of my head.
@quibble-auk this jerk messes with Sue so much, just as I try to get a good look at him.
Something I never really talk about (where other people can see it) is that Coo and Cometeater didn't hit it off.
He didn't like her, she reaaaalllllyyyyyy liked him. Thought he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, wanted to know him and have him know her. Snuggle him and show off how wonderful she would be as a mate. She had never met a strange male of her species before, and it shows. She Broke first, decided that she would rather marry this handsome man instead of eat him...First.
While he was actively beating her in a territorial dispute.
Comet has not been Broken, as pretenders before the genocide would put it. He has no want to snuggle and be in love, he barely understands that she is a girl-
So Coo has to prove that he should totally love her and like her, so..."Break" him. With gaining his trust and showing off, fighting in that war he's a part of. Which he eventually buckles under, and he gets a long moment of denial and flustered noises.
As shown.
Because she made a dent and she isn't giving up now-
Chapter… uh. Seven? Eight? I think it’s seven, of the post war Jeopardy thing I’ve got going on.
@thebrokenmechanicalpencil- this is so out of the blue but I remembered where I was going and am now back on track.
And another comedic chapter summary because we have established I’m an absolute comedian:
Jeopardy: I need to stop pack bonding with the ugly grocery store vegetables
—
Also I pulled some of the craziest scientific names out of nowhere and they mean nothing. One of them is a sponge. Why? Idk it sounded cool. Hush and let me have fun.
—
Jeopardy, despite his best effort to retain grace and his professional composure, practically evacuated the examination room the moment Steelwake had turned his back.
Not because of the rust—no, the medic kept himself in pristine condition and doubted he would contract whatever infection ailed Gimbal—but rather, Jeopardy was still actively cancelling autonomous commands for his fans to cycle on and he was going to overheat.
The automatic door of the room hissed shut behind him, cutting off the low, rhythmic hum of Dropmix’s playlist and the suffocating scent of copper and heavy duty oil. He stood in the sterile hallway for a full three seconds, his back pressed against the cold alloy wall, forcing a deep, systemic vent of air through his cooling lines. Finally, he let his fans cycle.
Generally speaking, he figured that he handled that situation pretty well.
He’d just need to run the tests and avoid the infected wing of the hospital. Flickerflash was always better at repairing rust than he was anyway. It would be easy to avoid and forget that this interaction had ever happened. Steelwake could fade into a distant memory once more.
“Jeopardy? Are you alright?”
The voice shattered his temporary relief like a dropped vial on hard plating.
Jeopardy’s fans, which had just started to whir into a comfortable, if only slightly frantic hum, immediately seized up and stalled with a pathetic, metallic click. The medic jumped back, his emergency lights strobing for a second too long before he managed to cut them off and settle his flared plates down.
He fumbled, nearly dropping a vial of collected data. His helm snapped up, his pale optics widening as his professional mask was forced back into place.
Standing a few paces down the corridor was Amina, a datapad cradled against his chest and his chevron tilted in genuine concern. The younger medic’s vents were cycling at a perfectly normal, relaxed rhythm, making Jeopardy feel all the more like a malfunctioning generator on the verge of blowing a fuse.
“Amina,” Jeopardy said, his vocalizer pitching slightly higher than he intended before he caught himself and dragged it back down to a smooth, clinical baritone—a bit too low to be natural. He detached his back from the wall, smoothing down a slightly flared panel with a casual flick of his wrist. “I- uh, I didn’t see you there. Just… taking a moment. Do you need something?”
He tried to smile, warm and gentle. Like a mech that was unconcerned with the fact that he had fifteen minutes until some stranger would be at his apartment door wondering why he wasn’t there. Or that the mech that he had been avoiding for the past month was in his clinic.
Or that he had just been caught acting like some overdramatic protagonist over a mild inconvenience.
Amina didn't look entirely convinced.
Jeopardy didn’t blame him.
The younger medic walked closer, his optics cycling as he searched Jeopardy’s posture. Amina’s lips pressed in a thin line before he finally seemed to find his words, “No, no, I’m good… I just… no offense, mech, but your acting… weird.”
Amina, despite meaning well, had a habit of being far too blunt and honest at times. Usually, it was just an endearing trait, one that the staff brushed off. But that didn’t mean that from time to time it didn’t end up rubbing someone the wrong way.
There was a brief pause as Jeopardy processed the statement, then, his plates bristled slightly.
“I’m fine. It was a difficult patient, that’s all,” Jeopardy replied, perhaps a bit too sharply. He cleared his throat, a synthetic rasp to mask the awkwardness, and adjusted his grip on his datapad and the vials. He looked at the samples, pretending to read the file on his datapad, “I need to run some tests on the samples I collected, but the patient needs a few injuries rewelded, would you mind covering that for me?”
He paused, shuffling slightly, “Then I want Flickerflash assigned to the structural reconstruction of the arm. He has… more patience for these sorts of mechs.”
And, more importantly, Flickerflash wouldn't spend the entire surgery internally screaming because the patient's companion was staring at him.
“Yeah, I can hand off the file,” Amina shrugged, tapping the transfer request into his own pad. He didn’t look up at Jeopardy as he spoke, unbothered, “I’ll get to work on those welds, anything else?”
Amina finally looked up from his screen. He eyed Jeopardy's tightly pinned shoulder plates one last time. “Because seriously, if you’re coming down with a virus or something, don’t bring it into the lab. We have plenty of mechs to cover your shifts and I know Dropmix isn’t around anymore to tell you—”
This time, Amina caught his slip before he needed to be interrupted, cutting himself off with a slight wince, vents hissing.
Jeopardy could feel his plates tighten, pressing against himself. He didn’t need Amina to finish the sentence, he knew what was left unsaid. Jeopardy didn’t have Dropmix to tell him to take a break, to force him to take a lazy day off or not pull overtime.
His spark seemed to pull into itself, leaving his chest feeling vacant and hollow.
“I’m not a sparkling, Amina. I know better than to expose vulnerable mechs. Go do the welds,” Jeopardy said, his voice dropping into that smooth, clinical rhythm that brooked no further argument.
Amina threw up a hand in a lazy gesture of compliance—though Jeopardy knew the look of a mech who was happy to have an excuse to leave a tense situation—and turned down the hall toward a supply closet. His tone, though strained, was light, “You’ve got it boss bot.”
Jeopardy watched him go, waiting until the automatic doors slid open and closed. The medic took a slow, deliberate intake of air, checking the chronometer on the wall with a hesitant glance.
Thirteen minutes.
He closed his optics and leaned his helm against the cool wall, a heavy, exhausted sigh rattling his chest plates.
Technically, if he took a back alley or two he could make it. He would be a mess, an absolute, embarrassing, horrible mess. His internal sensors were still throwing minor temperature alerts from the sheer processing load of the last ten minutes. He couldn't successfully interview a prospective roommate while his own cooling lines were actively protesting. And he still needed to submit Gimbal’s samples and run the tests, sign out, and run a thorough decontamination cycle to ensure he didn’t carry any infection out into the public.
There was simply no way.
Besides, he didn’t have the processing power to deal with yet another disaster of an interaction. He would rather just go back to his apartment, crawl into his berth and watch some mindless true crime drama with ridiculous chase scenes and unrealistic scenarios.
He just needed a minute to breathe.
His spark churned in his chest, spinning and twisting into something shameful and selfish as he pulled out his communicator to stare at the screen. Only a second or two passed before, with a sensation of profound defeat, Jeopardy opened a communication channel and drafted a message to the structural engineer.
\\ My sincere apologies, but an urgent, complex trauma intake has just arrived at the clinic requiring immediate diagnostics and specialized chemical synthesis. I will be required to work overtime to oversee the initial stabilization. We will need to reschedule our walkthrough for a later cycle. I hope I’ve not caused too much inconvenience for you and assure you this delay will not happen again. //
He paused, his thumb hovering over the screen. It wasn’t the full truth, but not a complete lie either. There was definitely work he could do around the clinic and pass it off as the overtime he claimed to be essential. He bit the inside of his cheek, skimming over the message again.
Eleven minutes now.
Jeopardy sucked in a breath and held it. Finally, he hit send. The communicator chimed, confirming that the transmission had been delivered.
The universe, it seemed, was content to leave him entirely isolated for just a little longer.
A small, pathetic part of his processor felt an immediate wave of relief. He didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to deal with a stranger, and he had work he could do. He hadn’t had very high hopes for the potential tenant anyways.
Jeopardy was being smart, he knew his limits. And he had met and surpassed them.
The medic tucked his communicator back into its compartment and forced his feet to move, marching down the corridor toward the laboratory drop off station with a stride that was entirely too fast for a senior medic on a standard shift. He handed the tainted energon samples and the rust scrapings over to the automated diagnostic terminal, inputting Gimbal’s newly updated file data with sharp, aggressive taps of his digits.
“Analysis priority: Urgent,” Jeopardy muttered to the terminal and he input additional information. “Flag for Type 4 oxidation with potential crystalline escalation. Run a full heavy-metal toxicity panel on the energon sample.”
The machine chimed in compliance, its internal mechanics whirring to life as it sucked the vials into its sterile belly and submitted them to the lab.
The screen blinked, a steady, rhythmic green progress bar illuminating Jeopardy’s pale optics as the automated terminal went to work. It was a comforting sight—predictable, precise, and entirely unconcerned with personal history.
For the next three hours, Jeopardy found every mundane task he could and completed them.
He took inventory of their medications and chemical stores, sorted recently imported tools, problem solved and managed to get one of the previously malfunctioning testing terminals operational again. It was exactly the kind of distractions he needed. He expertly avoided Amina—which wasn’t particularly difficult due to him being assigned to the isolated wing—and only ran into Osmis one other time.
By the time that Jeopardy logged off his terminal, retrieved a handful of datapads to look over in the comfort of his own room, and finally let his shoulders sag, the sun was setting over the bustling city of kaon, casting it into a melancholic twilight.
His joints popped with a stiff, metallic protest as he completed the final steps of the decontamination process run.
He was exhausted.
A spark deep, protoform aching kind of exhausted. But, the satisfaction of completing a relatively productive day at the clinic was enough to make it worthwhile.
The medic unlatched the heavy door of the decontamination chamber, and stepped out into the rear exit corridor of the clinic. The daytime rush had fully ebbed away, replaced by the hushed, low-energy hum of the night rotation. The overhead tracking lights had shifted to a dim, resting indigo.
Jeopardy exchanged a brief farewell with a member of the nightshift before he slipped out into the cooling Kaon air.
The city at twilight was a sprawling grid of blue shadows, faint golden rays of sun catching on the tips of buildings, and an enchanting purple hue of the usual mist that descended onto Kaon every night. Neon lights buzzed, the gladiatorial games—a constant, pulsing vibration that seemed to echo through every corner no matter how far you were from the arena—would settle into a steady baseline for the night life.
The post war efforts had helped restore the once industrial and smog ridden city into something that held a culture and purpose, and it was always a sight to behold. Something that Jeopardy—regardless of how long he had lived there—couldn’t help but admire.
It was loud, busy, and alive.
Despite himself, his appreciation for the liveliness of the city won out, and he let himself turn down the same detour he had taken in the morning. The frantic chaos of the morning market vendors had completely wound down, but the interstellar market was an eternal beast. Ships arrived hourly with all kinds of imports for surrounding cities, the market, and—the whole reason why Kaon had invested in an interstellar port—organic opponents for the gladiators.
Jeopardy walked mindlessly through the busy streets, weaving through a diverse crowd of aliens and Cybertronians alike, his gaze drifting aimlessly over the storefronts. He was operating on pure autopilot, simply wishing to let the buzz of other’s lives wash over his frayed processors, when his footsteps instinctively slowed.
The medic stopped.
He was standing right in front of the alcove beneath a massive structural pillar where the botanical stall resided. The same one he had passed by earlier in the morning. Where the quaint, charming plant with the pulsing flower had caught his attention.
Jeopardy stood outside the stall for a moment longer, some disgruntled mech muttering behind him at the sudden halt, and finally caved under his own impulse.
Perhaps a plant would bring some much needed life to his apartment while he figured out his ongoing roommate situation. He was around plants all the time when he traveled to earth, and despite being rather stationary and simple, they had always been very alive.
Jeopardy stepped into the alcove, a strange, quiet expectation fluttering in his chest. After the exhausting, clinical chaos of his shift, the thought of that small, pulsating plant felt like an uncomplicated commitment that he could excel at. An easy win for himself. Plants were simple creatures. It wouldn’t ask for medical aid, it wouldn’t look at him with heavy pity like Amina had, and it wouldn’t have social standards that Jeopardy struggled to meet or let himself adapt to.
He approached the counter, his pale optics searching the cluttered shelves of overflowing pits and glass terrariums. His optics cycled, focusing on the specific shelf where the plant had been, right next to a rather flamboyant plant with obnoxious colors and massive leaves. It was empty. In its place sat a shallow, metallic tray covered in nothing but a residue of damp dirt.
“Ah, the medic returns! But alas, you are a few cycles too late,” a voice wetly trilled, an unnatural mechanical whine clipping each syllable—the work of a translator or some sort.
Jeopardy blinked, his gaze shifting downward to the counter and vendor. The merchant wasn't Cybertronian, nor was it a typical humanoid alien. It was an amorphous mass of deep violet, fungal like tendrils that shifted and pulsed within a specialized environmental containment suit. A central cluster of bioluminescent sensory nodes served as its eyes, blinking up at Jeopardy with a wet, clicking sound.
He had met one or two of them before, a race that had been orphaned after an attack from Unicron. Despite his efforts, the medic could not recall the race’s name.
“The Vibranilla,” the organic vendor sighed, its translator crackling with a wet, overly enthusiastic pitch. The vendor nodded solemnly—or at least, made a gesture that suggested a nod, “A gorgeous specimen, really. Highly reactive to ambient acoustic frequencies. A gladiator's handler bought it just two hours ago. Supposedly for a collection”
“I see,” Jeopardy spoke slowly, eyeing the empty shelf again. His vocalizer held its smooth, professional baritone, but a small, distinct weight dropped in his spark. Of course it was gone. He had hesitated, lied to a prospective roommate, his mentor was dead, his Amica across the galaxy and now even a simple plant was out of his reach.
He fought the disappointment from his features and dipped his head towards the organic apologetically, “My apologies for taking up your time, then. Good evening.”
He began to turn on his heel, his shoulder plates tightening as he prepared to head back to his empty apartment.
“Wait, wait! Cyber-medic,” the vendor spilled forward, its violet tendrils slapping eagerly against the edge of its suit, the larger of them hitting the display counter. A faint, earthy musk—like ozone mixed with wet moss—wafted from the suit's exhaust ports. “The Vibranilla is a fickle thing anyway. High maintenance. Constant humidity adjustments. You look like a mech who works the long rotations. You don't want a plant that dies the moment you pull a double shift!”
Jeopardy paused. His internal clock reminded him it was late, but the sheer enthusiasm of the organic was oddly distracting.
“I suppose that's true,” he murmured, his professional curiosity piqued despite his exhaustion.
“Precisely! You need something... symbiotic. Something that offers company,” the vendor trilled, its tendrils writhing as it reached beneath the counter. It hoisted a heavy, opaque ceramic basin onto the table. The creature started shifting around, navigating the overflowing shelves easily as it prattled on, “You live alone, correct? I assume so, you have a very lonesome air about you. Yes, yes, I can practically taste it. You Cybertronians are very vocal with how you feel, so much electricity buzzing around you. Like other organics and their pheromones. Though, I’ll admit your race is far less repulsive stench wise!”
Jeopardy shifted his weight, his plates pulling tightly against his protoform as he narrowed his optics.
He wasn’t… lonesome.
The vendor laughed, not turning to see if Jeopardy found amusement in the topic at all. Instead, they finally seemed to locate what they were searching for—a strange sound of excitement gurgling from their throat. “Kaon apartments are so sterile. So cold. You need life!"
The vendor hauled up a small container, placing it on the counter with a wet thud.
“This!” the organic announced proudly, the bioluminescent nodes on its suit flaring a bright, cheerful green. “Solanum-Amicta. Or, as the traders call them, Heart-Weavers. Extremely hardy. They originate from a dense rainforest planet. My home planet in fact!”
Jeopardy stepped closer, his optics automatically zooming in to analyze the specimen. The plant was entirely unlike the delicate, pulsing flower he had missed out on. The plant consisted of thick, coiled vines that looked almost like braided cabling, covered in soft, velvety leaves of a deep, teal and purple. At the center of each cluster was a tightly wound bulb that emitted a faint, rhythmic red glow and his sensors confirmed—a heat signature.
“Those bulbs are their flowers. They use them to detect atmospheric pressure and electricity, the same things that I use to read your emotions my friend!” The vendor exclaimed brightly, poking one of the bulbs delicately. The bulb brightened, a vibrant, aggressive red flashing and the plant pulled onto itself further. “The flashing is to deter predators. The bulbs will heat up and create small electrical currents to shock anything that touches it when agitated. That pulse is then detected by neighboring plants to warn them of danger. Very social little plants.”
Jeopardy watched the bulb’s defensive flash, his medical processor immediately logging the electrical discharge threshold. It was minimal—hardly enough to trip a Cybertronian breaker or cause anything but a minor nerve flare, but certainly enough to startle a smaller organic creature.
The medic leaned down, tilting his helm to observe the plant. To his surprise, the velvety leaves of the closest bulb uncurled, leaning subtly toward his hand as if stretching toward a ray of sun.
“See? It likes you!” the vendor trilled, its translator crackling with delight. “They also are one of the few plants that have genders, dioecious plants. The individuals that carry female flowers open when they believe their specialized pollinator is approaching.”
“So this is a female then?” the medic asked cautiously.
“Yes, yes,” the organic purred, tendrils shivering, “I find they fare better in interstellar travel. They don’t get as stressed as the males.”
Jeopardy nodded, his fingers hovered just above the soft leaves. The sensation of the plant subtly reacting to his mere presence sent a strange, quiet warmth straight to his spark. It didn't pity him. It didn't look at his pinned shoulder plates or worry about his erratic cooling fans. It just wanted to exist in his space.
It needed him.
Not like the clinic needed a senior medic. Or like a roommate needed social interactions and mutual respect.
Just… needed to be looked over.
“It’s… intriguing,” Jeopardy murmured, his clinical facade slipping into something much softer, his voice a quiet, genuine rumble.
Jeopardy stared at the Heart-Weaver. The deep teal of its velvety leaves caught the dim indigo of Kaon’s twilight streetlights, casting a shadow that looked remarkably like a relaxed hand resting on the counter. He cleared his throat, leaning back to look at the vendor, his voice adopting that careful, clinical tone he used when evaluating a medical supply inventory. “And… the light and nutrition requirements?”
The medic had heard Coo fuss over Comet overwatering her olive tree or shoving it into a dark corner without her knowing.
“Oh, nothing special really,” the vendor continued, its translator warbling with a salesman's practiced cadence. “It’s from a rainforest, my mechanical friend. Just needs a few hours of sunlight from a window, near dawn or dusk. You can water sparingly daily or dunk it every other week.”
Jeopardy sighed, a soft hiss of air escaping his vents. He felt too tired to argue, and frankly, the prospect of going back to a completely silent apartment where the only sound was the cycling of his own intake fans felt suddenly daunting—despite its previous appeal.
And abandoning the plant felt… wrong. Morally. Like it was some other creature he was leaving behind, one that was aware of how close it was to finding a home only to be rejected for no good reason. If he were to leave now he would be leaving the plant behind.
His spark flared in his chest, vents hitching softly as the arch of energy left his spark chamber stinging with something bitterly familiar. His spark pulsed once more before returning to that same, dim, shame filled void.
Frag.
Jeopardy’s plates flared at his own detected weakness, annoyance spiking in his own soft spark. He closed his eyes, his hands crossing over his chest as he forced his plates to smooth themselves. He kept his frustration out of his tone, ensuring it was monotone, “Very well. I will take it.”
"Excellent choice! A magnificent choice!" The vendor began typing rapidly into a battered data terminal to process the credits, its amorphous body shifting with excitement.
As the vendor prepared the transport container, Jeopardy’s optics drifted to the shelf directly beneath the Solanum-Amicta. There, nestled in a smaller, slightly cracked ceramic pot, was another plant. This one was entirely different—a pale, semi-translucent succulent-like structure with flat, wide leaves that seemed to faintly track the movement of air motes. It looked small. Slightly crowded out by the larger, brightly colored flora around it.
Jeopardy’s processor, still frayed from the emotional tax of the shift, made a sudden, illogical leap. His spark once again, fluttering in his chest frantically with the same distressed fluctuations that came from almost losing a patient.
If the heart-weaver used electrical pulses to communicate and read its surroundings... What happened when he would inevitably go to work for a twelve-hour shift?
He could feel his spark wilt in his chest at the thought, echoing an eons old ache.
Jeopardy’s optics lingered on the small, pale succulent. The vendor had explicitly said the Heart-Weaver was a social plant. It communicated. It reached out.
And Jeopardy was about to lock it inside a silent, dark apartment for half a cycle at a time, leaving it to pulse its little warnings into an empty room with absolutely nothing to answer back.
It will think it's entirely alone. He was sure, his processor spinning the scenario into a devastatingly vivid narrative. The poor plant would send out a pulse and the only response will be the hum of his refrigerator.
“Wait,” Jeopardy said, his voice cutting through the clicking of the vendor’s terminal.
The organic paused, its bioluminescent sensory nodes blinking up in a slow, curious pattern. “Yes, cyber-medic? Did you require the premium nutrient soil? I can offer a discount—”
“The one below it,” Jeopardy interrupted, pointing hesitantly toward the semi-translucent succulent. He tried to keep his tone strictly diagnostic, as if he were ordering a necessary secondary compound for a chemical synthesis. “The smaller specimen. What is its classification?”
The vendor leaned over the counter, a thick tendril pressing against the glass to peer down. “Ah! That is a Lumina-Scypha. A Moon-Cup. Very different temperament. Similar environment—though it’s from an entirely different planet. They absorb light and electricity from surrounding lifeforms and store it. At night, they release it as a soft, rhythmic bioluminescence.”
The vendor’s translator whistled, a sound that translated roughly to a shrug. “Not very flashy. I’ve been trying to sell it for some time. Not much interest. Mechs tend to think it’s a parasite. Not very appealing for the market.”
Jeopardy blinked, his optics widening slightly as he stared at the small, pale thing. A parasite. The word felt heavy, clinical, and entirely unfair. It wasn't a parasite; it was just a consumer of ambient energy. It was a listener. A steady presence.
Slag his soft spark.
Cometeater would be laughing at him right now, poking at him for getting all worked up over a plant. Dropmix would have joined him. Told him it was an ugly color and the texture was unattractive and he was acting like a fool over an organic again. He could practically hear Dropmix’s phantom voice, “Primus, Junior, it’s a bowl of space weed, not a sparkling. It doesn’t have feelings.”
But Dropmix wasn't here. And the Heart-Weaver was currently sitting on the counter, its central bulb emitting a faint, rhythmic red glow that looked altogether too much like a lonely sparkbeat.
“I will take that one as well,” Jeopardy stated. His voice was flat, wrapped in the thickest layers of his medical persona, though his shoulder plates gave a treacherous, defensive twitch, his vents flaring. “It… has similar needs I assume?”
The vendor's bioluminescent nodes flared a blinding, chaotic shade of violet. For a second, the amorphous mass inside the suit actually gurgled, its translator emitting a high-pitched, static-laced screech that sounded like a blender pureeing gravel.
“Yes, yes! Very compatible!” the vendor exclaimed, its translator giving a static-laced chirp of pure capitalistic glee. The violet mass within the containment suit practically vibrated, tendrils snapping up the smaller ceramic pot with an eagerness that made Jeopardy’s internal diagnostic programs ping with a mild sense of financial regret. “The Moon-Cup will drink up the excess static from your Heart-Weaver! A perfect closed loop. They will be very cozy together in your sterile Kaon dwelling.”
Jeopardy didn't reply.
The medic merely watched as the vendor deftly packed both specimens into a single, ventilated cargo pod designed for fragile organic transport. He swiped his data-card over the chipped payment terminal, watching the credits drain from his account with a stoic, unblinking stare.
He had just spent a non-trivial amount of hard earned currency on two alien weeds because he was projecting his own post-war isolation and recent grief onto flora.
At least he was self aware. That had to count towards something.
“Until next time, cyber-medic!” the vendor called out, its bioluminescent nodes flashing a parting sequence of neon purple and yellow.
Jeopardy picked up the carrier, taking extra caution to avoid tipping it and turned towards the exit. He offered a terse, polite nod of his helm before pausing to use his own lights to mimic the pattern the organic had used in their farewell, earning himself another excited garbled call. Then he stepped out of the alcove, quickly melting back into the twilight crowds of the Kaon market.
He was an idiot. A pathetic, lonely mech who was seeking company in plants. Who had lied to get out of meeting with a potential roommate in favor of shopping.
And yet… Jeopardy’s spark was buzzing contently in his chest.
Hehehehehehehee Jep becoming a plant dad because he needs to take care of... something. Hehehehe I am loving all of this build up. It's wonderful, I think I have a pretty good idea on where this is going and I love how it's getting there. Gahhhh and the vendor???? I love that you made him an alien, an exuberant alien in his little suite trying to sell plants. I just....it's so creative and I love it. Also all the plants and how they behave is splendid. It's so fun.
Not gonna think about how my brain immediately saw parallels between the boyos and the little plants??? Comet being seen as a parasite, Jep who loves his company and wants that interaction. They themselves make a perfect loop or sorts, and so do the plants. Maybe I'm just being sappy, but the little pale succulent is just Comet now. That's him but plant.
We will ignore how he's a super predator for a while and say that's what he is on the inside.
Little guy
The descriptions of the plants thoughhhhhhh! Girly this was wonderful! I could feel just how tired Jep is, poor man wants his nap. Wants to watch his trash TV (I feel you babes.) And ended up spending who knows how much.....on some plants he pack bonded with. Which I adore to every degree possible. Also!
Coo would so have an olive tree, that's just her. That's amazing. She would so be telling her husband all the way he about killed her beloved plant, and he's barely even understanding what an olive is. I need to throw more Greek and Roman vibes into her.....I should not redesign her I just finished designing their children-
Side ramble aside, I love this series so much. I love Jep having to make sure he actually stayed and worked way overtime to make the lie feel less like lying. Dropmix looming in his mind over the plant, the self awareness. All of it is so fun, gah and all the details I could just spend forever on!!! The hum of the pits, the language in the medbay, the way the machines functioned and were described so well that they felt familiar? Like it's just a normal piece of equipment not alien tech. No awe just fond fact because Jep has worked with them for so long. All this wonderful staffffff!!!!!!
Amina is a treasure, absolutely a treasure. Blunt boyo. Gives "I only meant to intern here" vibes. But all of it just feels so domestic and hehehe organic. Very well done man, I love this.
I need to write something now for the pretenders because gosh have I been neglecting everybody....or maybe not and just draw everyone as beans...I like that plan.
I feel like these could be very fun stickers. Would people want these as stickers?
And if I made them stickers I have really fun color names for them! Because I’m really creative. Maybe they would come in a little packs? Like little collections? Am I making sense???
—
Strawberry hyena
Grayscale hyena
—
Kiwi Cheetah
Grayscale Cheetah
—
Seafoam lion
Twilight lion (I don’t really like the colors and I may rework it)
Not that I started this ages ago and never wanted to do the line art because that.....Is scary. But eh, have some refs for Cometeater's oldest children! This is when they are about twelve or thirteen, little guys. Which is so fun because that is about the age Comet probably was in that last drawing I posted?
-
-
Who can sense who has more trauma just by the frown :DDDDD
Not gonna sit here and think about that at all.
But anyway I may reblog this with some more age references? But anyway these are the triplets, who are born after the War on Earth.
@quibble-auk ugh yeah hehehe, Virgo's horns may get reworked again but for now their growth pattern is a later Pencil problem. Fun fact Libra does still have horns, I forgot which shape on his head were them, probably the white pieces on either side, but he takes after his mom and gets some more pronounced spines instead. The girls (with Comets cocktail of genes and stuff) are more prone for that honestly? Or at least for how I design them and have sorta used as a good sexing tool. But he gives more bird vibes, when I finally settle on his final grown design his horns may be more pronounced or his spines have a different growth pattern or something.
Because I’ve had fun with the other ones and figured I can do some background studies, world building and character study all at once if I just make this a thing.
When do all of these take place? I have no clue. The timeline is a mess.
The little menace with the magnet letters doesn’t belong to me. They belong to @thebrokenmechanicalpencil!!!
Mkay one pic at a time because I adore this so so much. The background is great on the first one! Feels very old cartoon network? Like Powerpuff girls. Either way I love it, the sun looks wonderful. All the pretty colors. Plus all the different types of buildings! Jubilee is precious, that's so adorable. She is so happppppyyyyy, with her cute antennaaaaa. The twin girls need to be doodled with her as beans man, I love her. The colors you ended up choosing are perfect.
PLAYDOGH COMET?????
Thats adorable.
Its also so well doodled, Jep is amazing is this. I keep giggling, he gave him his toessssssss!! Cute little froggo smile. Plus Virgo being a menace. You drew him so well I love his spikes?????? They are so cuteee??? He gets canon spikes now. Im doing a real ref for the boyos (because.....I suck at this-) and its being added. He's so devious!!!!!! Gosh I'm guessing he's being an little twerp with Jep?? Because I know he's switched his paints up, but I love him. So much. Little rat. His dad is sighing. He looks like he would fight cuddles, but get absolutely scooped anyway. He's so smollllllll-
Just gonna get some cuteness aggression for a second.
GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-
Pft and the little note which, real. I get you Jep.
I also don't know what I'm doing when numbers are involved.
Upon further inspection of recently restored and decoded data and files from the now illegitimate faction, The Decepticons, we have been able to identify Subject FG-088 of the early test stage of the Decepticon Phase Six Program.
-
Identifying the true identities of the individuals involved in the early stages of the program has proven to be a difficult task due to corrupted files, destroyed data, encryptions, and refusal to provide reliable information. However, recently a handler of one of the experimental mechs and behavioral specialist has come forward in agreement that they will not be charged for their involvement and their identity remain anonymous.
[REDACTED] has been able to provide essential codes and helped restore files, and along with additional previously lost files provided by [REDACTED] and [REDACTED] we have been able to clearly identify 74 more victims across the four separate facilities. Which brings our total identified victims up to 126 of a confirmed 525 total subjects.
We are still actively working to identify all participants—willing and unwilling—to bring them to justice for their evolvement in the unnecessary mutilation, torture, and inevitable death of so many mechs. As well as provide proper closure and information to surviving loved ones of the victims.
We thank you for your patience during this time and ask that you file a report with any additional information you can provide
-
Subject FG-088’s files indicate that they were housed at the Northern Decepticon Science Ministry facility. They are—like many of the other victims involved at this facility—a standard Guardian frame. More specific details revealed their training as a Sentry.
Due to the mass produced and simple nature of most Guardian frames before the Great Cybertronian Civil War and the mutilated conditions of most physical documentation of subjects it has greatly complicated the identification process. Previous predictions for Subject FG-088’s identify include: Stronghold, Sunrazor, Celeron, Chimerax, and Gridlock.
In the image [REDACTED] provided and have attached, there traces of paint on Subject FG-088’s helm. The golden paint as well as confirmation with [REDACTED] and cross referencing with Decepticon databanks has confirmed Subject FG-088’s identity as Sunrazor of Polyhex.
Thanks to cross referencing we have also confirmed that Subject FG-088 was one of the three successful test trials. During the war she was ranked Brigadier General and Senior Mission Commander, as well as Captain of a specialized task force.
The identification chip referenced above is what was used to link and eventually contact Sunrazor’s remaining family group and surviving Conjunx—all individuals will remain anonymous for their protection.
——
——
I had the lineart versions of this here because I spent so much time getting this right. I’m also an idiot and totally forgot to formally save the version of this before I started playing with colors and all that. So the shading only one looks… questionable.
@thebrokenmechanicalpencil- one day I’ll know how to do colors like you and it will be the greatest day of my life.
ugh this is amazing, its heartbreakingly clinical and so so well worded. I love the absolute SCOPE of this project????? How huge this was and how you can most definitely tell. All those names, all those mechs. This being a release after the war???? UGHHHHH her being recognized is so so painful, and the Valkyrie and Powercase had to- They got to finally know the story?!??!
Quibble I'm gonna cryyyyyyyy, not to mention how beautiful the illustration is??? GIRL. Thats what this is, it isn't a doodle. Its all so detailed I could stare at this forever, her expression hurts me. Plus the mask and how dehumanized she is? Her all ripped to pieces, how clinical it looks but also so horrifying.
You did so well with the detailing and line art, it's all so solid. Not a hunk of wiring and metal shapes. You included tubes and her still being AWAKE. UGHHHHHHHHH all of the brilliant line weight and delicate machinery, its so clean and refined Quibble. I am aghast, utterly in awe. Her plate with her number??? How the project is described and they are VICTIMS.
VICTIMS.
Ughhhhhh its so honest and painful, sounds like victims of a serial killer. Its beyond gut wrenching. Plus the mech that came forward? I have a guess on who its was, he's a beloved friend of an NPC. But just.....Quibble this is brilliant. Her card too??? The juxtaposition is perfect, and your use of the new alphabet is perfect. Her scrapes of paint that they just left there? Never bothered to get rid of due to the paint being slowly removed through the surgeries anyway? It makes it feel gritty. Like its an actual picture from a back alley. The shaded version- It has me in a chokehold. All the medical equipment is so haunting, dude you may like how I color but the way you can do such refined shapes and line work is remarkable. The perspective has me vibrating. Its brutal, the picture is a show of progress like on an engine rebuild not a person.
Poor Sunrazor.
All of the info about her I will be taking as reference, its amazing.
