#THE METAL PLATING!!!!!!

[dreamlogic]

i got an impossibly tiny metal model mail truck kit in my stocking & went into a fugue state until i'd finished assembling it. welcome to the world my beautiful son otto mobile who has every disease

[socvincjpeg]

Some concepts for a comic I’m planning from an AU of mine called metal to flesh!

[keferon]

Part 2 of Jazz and Prowl in space!

Gonna start calling it Odds of Survival.

Prowl loves entrusting his life to reckless strangers.

———————————————————————

Prowl pulled the release to the airlock and the music was swallowed by the vacuum of space.

Bursting forward, Jazz launched outwards riding the pop of escaping air. The first quintesson had its eye socket repurposed as an ankle bracelet before the second measure even began.

Ah.

Prowl probably should have specified he wanted to try speeding past rather than confront their opponents directly.

Jazz's improvised footwear writhed sluggishly before the mech twisted his ped inside its brain case, finishing it off and turning to face the next nearest opponent.

Odds of survival 26%

The white and blue mech launched himself upwards as the nearest quintesson went for a dive bomb. It's teeth breaking on impact with the sky bridge. Jazz twisted in midair.

They fell in slow motion, back arching against a starlit backdrop. An upside down visor met blue optics. Jazz nodded his head to the side, flicking one horn up and one horn down.

Did he just wink? (#^%)

The falling mech unsheathed a blade from his wrist, driving it through the sputtering quintesson.

Oh Primus has he been flirting the entire time?

Jazz spun, slicing into the next quint to close the distance.

I can not. I can not assume that was intentional. It has to be a cultural miscommunication.

The last two quintessons pounced. Swinging hard, Jazz caught one's jaws with a forearm while he kicked the downed another in the side of the head. The third was attempting to bite into his back but the teeth couldn't get a full purchase on the rounded compact plating.

Odds of survival 22%.

Prowl snapped out of his social etiquette downward spiral. Sprinting from the safety of the airlock door, he knelt behind a large section of external piping, lining up his shots.

Tacnet spun to work.

It was designed to calculate hundreds of possible variations of large scale engagements, including the number of soldiers, type of weaponry available and could even determine the approximate number of ammunitions that would be left over, provided Prowl had enough data at his disposal.

Calculating the marksmanship needed to dispatch three hostiles at medium range while distracted by a highly competent ally?

Odds of Survival 32%

Laughable.

Three shots burst through the thin atmosphere.

Quintesson wreckers were built thick skulled and stubborn. Luckily they came with easily identifiable gaps in their organic construction.

The Quints fell from Jazz, each with a smoking hole where and eye used to be. Jazz looked at Prowl, then the smoking quintessons and back up to Prowl before doing finger guns again.

Speaking of thick skulled and stubborn.

Prowl put on his best Commanders Scowl and pointed in the direction they needed to be currently running in.

Doorwing sensors hiked as he picked up on movement from behind. The incoming hostiles was palpable even in the moons thin atmosphere. Quintessons rarely favored stealth.

Prowl began running.

Jazz kept pace, half turned around to keep track of the incoming troop. Prowl kept his optics locked forward, not remotely willing to risk tripping on the torn apart path.

Tacnet locked on to a large silvery pillow that'd been exposed to the atmosphere.

Expanding LLX Lithium battery. Explosion on contact 90%

Prowl shouted a warning but the air was too thin to carry beyond his own audials.

Jazz will step on the lithium battery in 1.5 clicks (88%) and will be critically injured in at least one leg (76%).

Prowl grabbed Jazz's servo and yanked.

Music erupted in the moment of connection.

Vibrations ran up his arm and across his frame. Inside his audials, Prowl could make out the song Jazz had begun in the airlock. Looking at his visor, mouth agape, only one thought could form in Prowls mind.

How fragging loud is he playing that music?!?

Jazz perked up, and pulled Prowl around in an arc. Multiple sharp impacts thudded into the ground behind him. Prowl turned and almost wished he hadn’t.

Three heavily armored Quintesson bombers equipped with bio-mechanical ballista.

The javelin like spikes were as long as Prowls arm and designed to pin targets in place while the slow moving blimp-like body of the bomber got into position to blow them all to the Pit.

Prowl tugged Jazz in the direction of their objective, refusing to let go in case he tried to launch himself at the bombers. Prowl wasn't sure how Jazz would manage to do so, but Prowl felt an overwhelming nagging sensation in his tanks that he'd fragging try.

Jazz was evidently fine with this arrangement.

As the music pulsed between their palms, Jazz leapt at a diagonal, pulling Prowl along for the ride. The low gravity was so damn floaty. It continually forced Prowl to readjust his footing so he wasn't frantically treading air every time his peds left the ground.

Jazz was evidently fine with that too.

Another round of ammunitions impacted where the two of them had been running.

Their egress began to take on a pattern Prowl was quick to pick up on. It took the bombers 8 clicks to reload, launching at the same time, half a click after musical flair in Jazz's song. At the moment of the flair, the mech would launch them in a nearly unpredictable pattern. After the first two times of nearly getting his arm dislocated, Prowl began catching onto these moments and moved his momentum in sync with Jazz.

They'd started dancing.

The Tactician had an iron fisted focus on matching Jazz’s frankly eradicate lead. The longer the duet continued, the more data he had to work with. Prowl steadily progressed from Reacting to Anticipating. Feeling a core deep satisfaction that came from sinking into mastering a new skill.

By the time they’d escaped the bombers range, they’d made it too the base of the first hurdle.

Their reprieve would only be brief. The bombers would catch up in approximately 50 clicks (88%), giving the mechs a small window of precious semi-safety in which they needed to scale the wall before them.

Prowl craned his helm back at the barrier.

He would not be able to scale it on his own in time (95%).

Could Jazz? (65%)

While carrying him? (19%)

Jazz rapidly tapped his side.

The alien was crouched low, impossible legs bent with potential energy. He tapped his own back, gesturing for Prowl to grab on already.

Prowl threw himself over the mechs broad back. His digits frantically searched for a hand hold, flinching away from nearly digging into fragile vents.

I can’t-

Jazz leapt.

“You’re really grab-able - Isn’t that kinda stupid?”

Stupid stupid stupid.

Prowl skated off of Jazz’s rounded compact plating, that he specifically SAID was supposed to make him hard to hold on to.

He landed hard on his aft, denta clanking together painfully.

47 clicks remaining.

Jazz hit the ground beside him before Prowl had fully gotten back up. Now facing him, Jazz grabbed Prowl by both wrists and pulled him chassis to chassis. Jazz positioned his arms to link Prowls servos behind his helm, then set his own servos tightly onto Prowls waist.

Jazz nodded once, like he was satisfied with what he’d just done.

Prowl made a facial expression that a psychiatrist would find concerning.

42 Clicks.

Jazz nodded again, like expected Prowl to respond in any coherent manner, and lifted.

Prowls legs swung forward on instinct. Following the motion, Jazz wrapped them around his waist. Through the screaming haze of his processor, Prowl had the presence of mind to lock his ankles together as he realized Jazz’s true intentions, and manually aborted the logic cascade that had nearly crashed over him.

Package secured, Jazz let go and started their ascension.

Legs bent at an impossible angle to slam multi segmented peds flat against the metal walls. Despite Prowl’s body blocking most of his view, the alien mech was unfettered by the lack of vision. Jazz hardly bothered with proper hand holds, instead opting for incredibly strong magnetic grip built into his servos.

The magnetic backwash splashed over Prowls doors wings, forcing him to temporarily offline them or risk crippling vertigo. The structure they were scaling shook violently like something large had just irrevocably broken.

This is fine this is fine this is fine this is fine.

At 35 click’s remaining, Prowl centered himself enough to search for their pursuers.

Damn it!

The bombers were a fraction faster than he initially calculated. Six clicks before we’re in range (87%). Luckily, Jazz was more than a fraction faster than initially calculated as well. At this rate, they’d reach the top simultaneously.

No reason not to be proactive.

Prowl found that if he tightly cupped one servo around the back of Jazz’s helm, he had just enough leverage to bring out a side arm. After all, the bombers were already in range of him.

Steadying his elbow over the other mechs shoulder, Prowl took aim.

Five clicks.

The bombers flew in V formation.

Four clicks.

Too heavily armored for a standard sidearm to pierce.

Three clicks.

The lead bomber opened up its front in preparation for combat.

Got you.

Prowl threaded the gap, his shot skirting over the ballista in favor of impacting the bombers prodigious cargo. He watched something spark inside a split second before it succumbed to total annihilation.

The shockwave felt like a single soft papft of a breeze in the starlit air.

Jazz hefted them over the top of the wall, not dropping Prowl in favor of sprinting with him at full speed across the top of the hurdle.

One of his arms curled around to support Prowls back, allowing the Praxian to release his death grip on their helm. Prowl leaned back into the hold, allowing Jazz freedom to see again.

Jazz turned his helm around 180 degrees-

Did not know he could do that did not know he could do that.

- to look at the fire works behind them.

Jazz whistled appreciatively at the sight. He turned back to Prowl, visor locked onto his face as they carried him across the roof.

Reverberating music, nearly crashing, numbed doorwings, and a deeply satisfying kill all followed by a display of casual body horror was making Prowl just a little bit delirious. As a result, Prowl wasn’t entirely sure what expression he was making, just that Jazz was inordinately fascinated with it.

Without looking away, Jazz leapt off the end of the roof.

Prowl watched as Jazz glanced over his shoulder and back to him.

Do a double take.

And then crush Prowl to his chassis.

Jazz’s visor was over bright, both horns snapped completely forward and from somewhere inside his chassis, Prowl could feel some internal component spinning into overdrive, sounding for all the world like teeny tiny screaming.

Why are we still falling.

Prowl turned as far as possible in Jazz’s iron grip.

The sky bridge was collapsing.

Odds of Survival 4%

———————————————————————

Jazz, everytime Prowl one-shots an enemy: I need to get his number.

If you’re curious, the song Jazz is playing can be whatever you like. Personally I kept switching between listening to “I Was Made For Lovin’ You” by Kiss and “I Feel Love” 12” version by Donna Summer while writing.

- SSTP

OH GOD AHAHJFKFK THIS IS SO FUCKING GREAT HELP

And the concept of music playing between them??? I'm s o l d. "I was made for lovin' you baby" is basically JP OST for me at this point ehehhmgmgm

Jazz: Hookay I need to transport the machinery from the point A to point B. Focus! Let's go!

Prowl: One of those tiktok videos where you can see some Reddit post and hear AI narrating it while Minecraft parkour is playing on the background. Except it's gay panic instead of reddit post and internal screaming instead of narration and even more gay panic instead of minecraft. ......and everything is overheating probably lmao

Also can you really call it a JP fic if their odds of survival never dropped lower than 10% according to Prowls brain? Ahahjgkgk all amazing JP fics have to do this. It's inevitable and I love it so much~~

[bigchump1994]

You read about Ty Cobb and hear he was a total dickhead on the field and you're like "Alright, how much of that is him being a competitor and how much is just genuine assholishness." And then you see pictures like this

[milkywayes]

GARRUS VAKARIAN: DATABASE IMAGE ACCESS. > PT. 1 : 2160, 2166, 2170. > all files backdated according to user preferences: (terran_coordinated.calendar).

[acerobot]

How to deal with a terrible breakup? Easy! You don't. Everything is okay in the fantasy sitcom suburb land where you control everything ever.

Silly goofy au hours. More crack than serious, but I enjoy it. I worry the three(3) episodes of Wandavision I watched and a Don't Worry Darling plot synopsis changed my neuron pathing for the worst.

[spicyraeman]

new playthrough new lae'zel screenshots

[thisispersonal]

“Ford I didn’t know you were such a chick magnet!” “not funny Stanley.” (While he’s trying desperately not to laugh)

no but seriously, imagine his head’s just magnetic now? Hilarious.

[toacody]

Makuta Spleco

He took the name Silver Fish literally.

Source

Creator: DerpSpawn

[mipexch]

the intricacies of machinery & vulnerability

[kinerxy]

design of an armored werewolf soldier that i decided to scrap lorewise in the middle of making it cuz he looks too civilized but i was too far in to stop (cool axe)

close up (the armor was so fun to draw)

[civetfish]

Was gonna wait to post this outside of ko-fi until I posted the corresponding part of my fic BUT since that's on hold for a hot second I might as well do it now!

So much yapping under the cut because I can't help myself lol (Mostly just a stream of consciousness, so its kind of a word salad)

I like to think that colors can change in brightness, mix with others, and appear in certain areas/patterns to give a bit of complexity to the use of colors for communication.

Top left is pretty straightforward- yellow is fear. It's the full body "puffed up cat" kind of fear where it's the ony emotion being processed. A lingering anxiousness would be shown more like a general yellow centered around the chest, while the rest of their body remains the same color. Feelings like a slight nervousness (Like handling a delicate object with big crab-claws, for example) would be shown through a "rippling" wave of yellow overtop of whatever colors are already present, originating from the chest or hands. ((link) this is pretty close to what I imagine (If the link doesn't work, skip to about 2:10) Spooky ocean warning! though if you're seeing this post in the first place I assume you're probably fine with it )

Green is analytical - He does this a few times in-game, and it's what makes the most sense to me. I also like to think it's the reasoning behind a lot of the Architect's... well, architecture. Green is a really predominant color in all of the architect structures / data hubs / machines / etc., so in cultural sense it would make sense for the Architects to be using the color representing their core values. The light blue around his sides is amusement/joy. (I put a little bit of this into my first chapter iirc) This is also based pretty closely to what we see in-game. (I.e. the little wave he does back at Robin, it's silly and playful and I love it sm)

The gray/dull tones (bottom left) are just that- the "muting/dulling" of whatever color it's applied to. The Architect who kind of killed his entire species is a little depressed if you can believe it! A muted blue (indigo, rather than light blue) would be melancholy, and the yellow tint in there is stress/dread. A completely dim gray Architect is basically completely numb, which is distinct from the typical "resting color" that Architects have when not feeling any emotion in particular at a given moment.

Dark blue (Or indigo, bottom right) is sadness. It could also be read as a sense of longing or wistfulnes, or a lot of other nuanced feelings depending on other colors or context clues.

And of course magenta (bottom middle) and that coral-ish color are love, more or less. It's a sense of fondness and deep affection, though Al-an himself is probably under the impression it's more like a loyalty and protectiveness; I don't think he has any real experience with love considering what we know about the network.

The coral color in the center of his chest is something I'll dive into more when I get that chapter out, but I think of it as a flush/heat, like an Architect blush. Orange is added to colors to increase the intensity of the emotion underneath, such as the inclusion with magenta to mean flustered or to red to mean a more heated rage. An embarassed architect would be fully orange, possibly leaning a bit towards pink, red or yellow depending on the specific situation.

For an "emotionless peak of innovation and efficiency" I am determined to shove SO many feelings into this shrimp horse. This stream of word spaghetti will eventually get rewritten into a basic color code.

[howgalling]

so... i was never happy w/ the fact that legion walks around with a massive 'wound' exposing his internals. i like to think my go getter 'keep the crew healthy and happy' shepard would've fixed him right up. yes she gave him one of her chestplates do you think me a MONSTER??

[wren-of-the-woods]

Okay but why did Jaskier have two spoons in the prison in season two? Did the prison meal just... come with two spoons? Did he barter with a guard for a second one? Has he been there long enough to have multiple meals with multiple spoons??

[eating-figs-here]

Shoutout to the uh. Three other people who enjoy platonic Traveler/Wanderer. Anyways. This is an excuse to post low quality paper drawings that I did while procrastinating school work.

The power of not wanting to do work.. where was this motivation during the summer...

[asterlizard]