#beast wars scavenger

[churino]

Design for scavenger

Secretly he wants to be an autobot but doesn't want to tell his mutant friends because he's scared they'll make fun of him for it

Scavenger is a transmetal mutant construction worker, like all the mutants his job is to alter terrain to better fit tarantulas' purposes, to aid in this task he's uniquely built to house a colony of miniscule ant minicons within his body, the ants are biologically pre disposed to obey scavenger, they live to serve. even though most of them aren't happy with this situation they can't express it since their voices are outside the usual transformer range of hearing. A sick joke on tarantulas' part

Scavenger is possessed of a profound kindness, and a gentle touch, if his arms weren't razor sharp drills and high powered pistons he wouldn't hurt a fly, but as it stands he's a danger to himself and the people around him, without fingers to hold things he must resort to using his mouth and...well you can see the problem with that. His teeth are attached to pressure sensitive plates that cause him to clatter like a wind up toy when enough weight is applied. Shredding whatever he's holding in his mouth to pieces

Dispite the walls in place between scavenger's dream of being a caretaker and his existence as a demolisher, he takes what he can get, as well.. a scavenger, and takes care of plants and animals that he and his ants rescue during construction work, one day they accidentally caught a human, the autobot minerva separated from her guardian robot after a failed attempt to take the transmetal driver back from the six clan.

The ants took her back to the mutant's secret underground lair where scavenger kept his other wounded animals, before the other mutants could arrive and notice the human girl, she woke up and maybe because she too is connected to another mind, like the ants or maybe because human ears are just different, she could understand the ant's speech and learned all sorts of little secrets from them including scavenger's autobot sympaties

When scavenger came back, he immediately tried to escort the little girl out of the mutant's den in the process minerva told him what the ants told her, and talked him into joining the autobots in the hopes they could fix the things that plagued him, upon arriving at the gate of autobot city, minerva's guardian nurse easily removed the motor that caused scavenger's teeth to clatter and replaced his solid drills with proper claws. But removing his bond to the ants was a little more tricky

So she got help from the autobot engineers, who made a simple solution but wowed scavenger with their projects, particularly how large and in charge bots like bulkhead and leadfoot were able to work alongside delicate equipment dispite their bulk. everything scavenger ever wanted. Seeking to learn the secrets of his new friends scavenger works as a veterinarian in autobot city right between the medical center and R&D department in terratronus' left leg,

[candychameleon]

SHOP FILL TIME!! I've restocked lots of things and added new items!

🌟New stuff:🌟 -DJD, Scavengers, and Aerialbots Lanyards -Earthspark Soundwave charms -6 new Heart Thigh charms -4 Heart Chest Charms

⭐️Restocked:⭐️ -Optimus Basketball charms -TFA Soundwave charms -Earthspark Elita-1 charms -Drift, Megatron, and Rodimus Thigh Hearts -Stunticon, Combaticon, Constructicon, and Dinobot Lanyards

🛒Etsy Storefront 🛒All Lanyards 🛒❤️Thigh charms 🛒❤️Chest charms 🛒ES Soundwave charms 🛒ES Elita-1 charms 🛒TFA Soundwave charms 🛒OP Basketball charms

Also, keep an eye out!! I also plan to open pre-orders for some new stuff very soon! (2 new earring designs, 3 enamel pins, and 2 round self-inking stamps!)

[darkcybertron]

incredibly funny that no matter the continuity, there’s always one guy that optimus prime is just a little gay with. usually they’re “old friends”

[nemesisthetoy]

One of the things I want, no, need to remember while writing Dragonbot is that he's NOT 100% good at the beginning of the story proper.

Just because he's not onboard with Megatron's plan to destroy an entire world in order to go home does NOT mean he truly cares about said world at first.

Most often, he views the different native species in an apathetic light, but being raised as a Predacon/Decepticon still has some lingering effects on his worldview, especially considering one species in particular, scavengers.

He absolutely HATES them, as he had been conditioned to since he came online.

As a result, when he learned that not only were “scavengers” not considered a sentient race, but were even considered prey (albeit endangered), he began hunting any human he came across.

Sometimes he would do it just to sharpen his tracking skills but on rare occasions he would end up eating them.

Needless to say, he wasn’t quite thrilled when dragons discovered that scavengers actually were sentient, and subsequently banned hunting them.

This hatred, however, ended fueling the speculations about where this mysterious brown RainWing, who was mute for 2 weeks, came from and became the basis of the current popular rumor.

That being that his egg was stolen by scavengers who kept him away from the sun, resulting in his hatred of them and overall kinda grouchy mood.

[skettchyartendevours]

New guy alert!! Got this fella the other day while I was out and about in the city with Scavenger :]

Speaking of which, I've got some photos of him too

Scavenger seems to like being out in the city ^v^ Bonus photo:

Yea, they gay now B)

[transformers-mosaic]

Transformers: Mosaic #492 - "They Were The Dream"

Originally posted on June 5th, 2010

Story - Franco Villa Art - Roy Stiffey Edits - Zac DeBoard Thanks to - Juan Pablo Osorio

deviantART | Seibertron | TFW2005 | BotTalk

Later revised and annotated for Transformers: The Lost Seasons

Later revised and annotated for The Transformers: Generation One

wada sez: Another Beast Wars strip from Stiffey means more character models, clean art, and Villa’s usual Italian translation—all below the break!

[transingthoseformers]

Those four were the only ones I got so far. I love the ideas for Breaky and Dready! Like, short-faced bear? Amazing. Knockout can ride on his back. Maybe argentavis for the twins?

As for size, well. Good question. I think big might be better. Or like, shrink everybody by a fifth of their size.

Muskox Bulkhead and Cassowary Arcee? There are a lot of birds, but I feel like a cassowary shares Arcee's general demeanour.

Okay first of all yes

Arcee as a cassowary would be ohhh way so pretty, and she does remind me of one upon further thought. Muskox Bulkhead would very certainly be cool, esp. with how his kibble would change around.

The Argentavis twins would be amazing, especially with what I'm seeing on the Wikipedia page because I'm going to be real it's been a while since I've heard/talked about it.

[wheneclipsefalls]

Little Gift- Feast

Dark Adult Neteyam x Fem Human Reader

Adult Neteyam pic by @cinetrix2 <3

Last Part Masterlist AO3

Summary: Your stubborn attitude isn't getting you much. Or perhaps...too much

Warnings: dubcon/noncon read at your own risk, MDNI, kidnapping, oral, jealousy, possessive behavior, dom/sub dynamics, power imbalance, swearing, aged up characters, etc.

Your one woman hunger strike is not going as planned.

Twenty six hours in and you are hungry.

So fucking hungry you are ready to bite off the hand of the next Na’vi to come into your space. Not that you would need to with the delicately cut berry spread before you. The same one that Neteyam had meticulously prepared that morning. Others may think of it as a sweet gesture but you see it for what it really is- a temptation. 

In the same way last night’s mysterious, but mouth watering, meat had been. The beast that Neteyam had hunted, cleaned, and prepared with his own hands. The aroma had been so intoxicating that you broke skin from biting your bottom lip as you stared down at your share. 

The first time you refused a meal you expected the Olo’eyktan to throw a fit, flip you over his knee, or even jam the food down your throat but he has done nothing of the sort. Instead, he revels in this little competition the two of you have. Because that’s what it is to him.

A game. 

Sitting beneath a low hanging tree as you watch him train warrior diligently, there is nothing to entertain yourself with but the food in front of you. 

This strange purple fruit in front of you has been cut down into smaller pieces. The inside looks similar to the videos you have seen of peaches and the juice runs down onto the leaf below as if it’s trying to seduce you into finally taking a bite.

Your stomach grumbles as if it’s tearing itself apart. 

Fuck, why did you choose to resist food of all things? 

The meals at Bridgehead were the furthest thing from a proper meal but you had always enjoyed scavenging out into the forest for various fruits and vegetables to spice it up. It’s one of the best parts of your day. And now that you’ve had a taste of the wonders the Na’vi can create with them, it feels like locking yourself out of heaven. 

Neteyam’s gaze is heavy upon you. 

Sending him a fierce glare you make a show of nudging the fruit away from you, even as your body screams at you to shove it down your throat. 

Neteyam tilts his head, glossy braids swingings over his shoulder as a crooked smirk twitches at his lips. He isn’t frustrated, and isn't deterred. If anything those lips curve as if they hide a secret you are not privy to. So confident he knows who will be winning this tug of war. 

You exhale a breath when he finally turns around to correct one warrior’s footwork. 

A thump sounds from your side and you almost let out a scream before you realize it is Lo’ak who has dropped down from a tree. With a sigh he comes to sit beside you. 

“Looks like fun, doesn’t it?” He gestures to the group ahead of you, eyes rolling as he looks at them in pity. 

“Go away, Lo’ak.” 

“Jeez what’s crawled down your loincloth?” 

You look at him in disbelief. You will never understand where Lo’ak find the audacity to poke fun at your imprisonment. 

“Besides Neteyam that is.” He chuckles and your cheeks heat instantly. 

“You pervert! Never in a million years-” 

“It’s not like I have to take his word for it either. You’re quite loud.” Lo’ak ignore your heated ears and agape mouth as he notices the cut up fruit before you. He reaches forward and plucks a piece with a delighted ‘ooh”. 

Shiny juice escapes the seam of his lips as he chews and it makes your own mouth water.

Suddenly a hand is yanking Lo’ak to stand with a fistful of braids. 

“What the hell?!”

“You skxawng! Those are not for you.” Neteyam hisses, releasing his brother with a huff. 

“Alright alright. Damn, I was just keeping her company.” Lo’ak mutters, arms crossing over his chest with a frown. “Besides, I hate to see food go to waste.” 

Their eyes lock as a silent line of communication strums between them. Eventually Lo’ak lets out an irritated sigh before nodding and jogging off into the treeline. Neteyam’s shoulder’s visibly relax, hands casually placed on those sinful hips as he looks down at you. 

“You should’ve let him eat it. I’m not hungry.” You lie confidently, jutting your chin up in pride. 

“Is that so, tiyawn?” 

His deep voice ripples through your body.

“Yes.” 

You go to give him a sneer, maybe even the middle finger, but looking up at him from this angle proves to be problematic. His loincloth has a bulge and it lights your curiosity. Despite all the vulnerable and exposed positions Neteyam has put you in you have yet to see what lies beneath that scrap of clothing. Averting your eyes doesn’t save you from witnessing the smirk that dances over her lips.

Stupid observant bastard. 

His shadow looms over you as you fiddle with the strings of your loincloth. And then his braids are tickling your neck. 

“Perhaps it’s not fruit you are hungry for.” That simmering whisper blossoms a blush once more but nothing in comparison to the one that emerges when  he grasps your small hand and places it along his inner thigh. 

He doesn’t let you pull away, not before you can feel the corded muscle and smooth skin. Not before your eyes cave into temptation and sneak a glance at the increasing size of that bulge. 

“I know your little body has been enjoying our time together but if you’re good, I’ll let you play with me too.” 

And then your fingers are traveling over the exposed skin until the silk fabric is beneath your tips. You can’t even look at him. You pray that this aversion will read as nothing more than pure revulsion, because you don’t know what will happen if he senses your underlying lust. 

You can feel him twitch under your palm. 

Eyes forced closed and heart racketing at your rib cage, it takes all your power to control the rise and fall of your chest. 

And then the heat is gone. Neteyam releases your wrists, stands up, and sends a dark smile over his shoulder before rejoining the group. You want nothing more than to hide your face in your hands and scream but that would only show him your hand. 

You need to be strong. Keep your mouth shut, fry his patience, and get the hell out of here. 

Lo’ak is right about the training. It’s undeniably brutal and strict. While you stare in awe at the rate the young warriors can scale trees and shoot a target, Neteyam shakes his head and sighs before correcting them. You’ve studied a bit of Na’vi throughout your life but there’s no desire to translate his strict reprimanding. 

You do, however, find it hard to keep your interest away from the various rippling muscles and shifting loincloths. You’re ovulating. You must be and if you were only in your bedroom back at Bridgehead you would actually be able to take some medication to tamper down this insufferable flood of hormones. 

Still, you are stuck here and a group of nine foot tall walls of muscle are fighting, wrestling, shooting, and inadvertently showing off their physical prowess with ease. You swallow a lump in your throat when one Na’vi male tackles another and you get a perfect view of his ass. 

Pandora is so hot.

So so incredibly hot and that has to be why you feel the temperatures rising along your cheeks. 

Neteyam’s back blocks the view, a stream of instruction flowing from his lips as the two struggle to get the upper hand. Your hungry eyes start to travel up his body instead but you tug them away. 

You’ll be on your deathbed before ever admitting to ogling these men but you’ll drink acid before letting Neteyam catch you ogling him. 

Another shorter male’s abdomen tightens as he pulls back an ax carefully. Sweat glimmers along his blue form as focused eyes narrow at the target. Within one powerful swing the ax is chucked from his grip and pins a leaf the size of your thumbnail to a tree. 

He sighs before reaching back to tie his hair. The stretch accentuates the contrast between his narrow waist and broad shoulders. And yet you catch yourself sneaking a look at Neteyam’s form. 

For comparison purposes only of course. 

It’s too risky though to notice the slope of his back or the way one strap of his loincloth has shifted dangerously low along one hip. Or note the way his dark stripes smoothly curve over and accentuate his v line. Because that is something you would never do. You would never look. Would never think about him outside of plans to escape. Never dream of his deep voice with that heavy accent or even think about how it sounds in his native tongue. And you most certainly would never anticipate the view of Neteyam between your thighs nightly. 

Suddenly the ax-throwing Na’vi has become boring so you veer the focus as far away from Neteyam as possible. 

You shift your body to your left, letting your hair create a curtain to block the view of Neteyam pulling back a bow. It takes a bit longer this time to immerse yourself in these next two who spar with long sticks. 

All at once your body is ripped from your spot, legs dangling and kicking as you are roughly set to stand. Neteyam’s arm snaps around your waist as he kneels behind you. 

“Do I need to put you in time out?” It’s not a joke. Not when his teeth are skimming dangerously closer over your ear. “I would be able to smell you halfway across the forest.” He growls. 

Your thighs press together subconsciously as embarrassment floods in. 

So maybe you had forgotten about the Na’vi advanced sense of smell. 

“Which I wouldn’t mind were it not for your eyes being trained on other men” The ground slips beneath you and suddenly Neteyam is throwing you over his shoulder. 

“Wait! Let me go!” You’re not even sure why you try at this point. It’s not like he has ever listened before. The hope of being heard dims even lower when you see his thrashing tail and feel his heavy footsteps as you're carried further into the forest. 

But dammit you are hungry and hot and your loincloth is stained with your arousal so you let your emotions bubble over. 

“You fucking brute! Put me down right now!” You scream, nails scratching harshly over his back. It doesn’t draw blood but wow those fading marks look so pretty over his blue skin. Not to mention the beauty of his ass swaying with every step. “I’m so sick of this shit!” 

Neteyam is quiet. 

So very quiet and it doesn’t sit right with you. 

“Open.” He commands but you remain still.

Body frozen as you stand before him, his massive member at eye level. It’s almost as if your brain simply can not process the sight before you. The way his cock is so different from the ones you have encountered with its purplish blue hue, speckled glowing dots, and even the precum that shimmers in the fading light. Curiosity sparks once more and for a moment you consider reaching out to touch it. 

However, the real shock is the massive size difference. You are no virgin. Bridgehead does not have a plethora of great men but you’ve found partners in the past to satiate your needs. So standing here staring and blushing feels out of the norm but with the way Neteyam is hung, how can you not? 

Even at peak arousal, or what you hope is peak, it’s unable to sprout fully, the sheer weight dragging it to hang lower by his thighs. You’ve always assumed the Na’vi would be…bigger but this….you’d never imagined something like this. 

The idea of ever fitting it in your mouth let alone inside of you makes your stomach coil. 

Are all Na’vi males this way or is this something specific to Neteyam?

Something tells you that thanks to the Olo’eyktan you will never find out. 

“Open your mouth, tawtute.” His voice is sharp like a drawn dagger, slicing through the wind to threaten obedience. 

“B-but it….it won’t fit.” You try not to think about your choice of complaint. 

Not that you don’t want to.

Not that he shouldn’t make you.

No, you simply complain about the logistics. 

“You’ll learn, pet. Now open.” The nickname is anything but endearing coming from his lips now, honey eyes darkening as he stares down at you. This is retribution. 

Shaking like a leaf, your lips ever so slightly part. It appears Neteyam is tired of giving verbal commands when one large hand grips either side of your face, pressing to force your mouth open wider. 

“You won’t let me get any food past those pretty lips, fine. You will take my cock instead.” That growl reverberates through your body until it swirls into a low seated passion and desperation. Neteyam’s nostrils flare, soaking in the scent of your betraying body. 

To your surprise Neteyam doesn’t immediately choke you on it but instead guides your open mouth to his base. Prying your jaw open wider, your lips are smeared along the heated skin. Hesitantly your tongue flickers out. 

“That’s it, pet. Don’t be shy.” 

When your tongue smoothes out to drag along the length of him you remind yourself that this is something you are forced to do. For survival. For escape. 

And you prepare yourself to later bury the memory of your desire and curiosity in this moment. To forget how salty sweet his precum tastes as it dances along your tongue. To forget the way his pupils dilate as he purposefully paints your pillow lips with that glowing substance like it’s your own personal lip gloss. To forget the way his abs flex when the head of his cock is finally enveloped by your hot wet mouth. 

But most of all, you promise yourself that you will forget how gorgeous Neteyam looks from this angle with his silky braids hanging loosely and glowing eyes devouring you whole. 

The back of your throat is reached within record time. Your gag reflex immediately kicks in and Neteyam pulls out while cooing at you.

“Poor little pet. Not used to taking such a big cock, are you?” You take the condescending words without fight, trying to clear your throat and prepare for more. “But then again I’m sure Jeremy has never made you cum until you cry.” Neteyam smirks and your breathing halts.

You look up at him with wide eyes. 

Oh God, when did he find out about Jeremy? A dark twinkle shadows the Olo’eyktan’s demeanor, his upturned lips promising an evil fate to your old flame.  

“What di-”

“Down you go again, pet.” Neteyam interrupts, prying your mouth open once more and shoving himself inside harder this time. He doesn’t let up this time when you sputter and choke around him. “Relax that throat for me, tiyawn. I know this isn’t your first time doing this.” He chuckles. 

Reluctantly you force yourself to follow his instruction, urging your heart rate so slow as you breathe in through your nose. Inch by inch, he slides down your throat until all you can taste and feel is him. A tinge of soreness already sparks along your jaw but stern eyes whisper the consequences of letting your blunt teeth even close to him. 

A part of you yearns to get lost in the moment, let your arousal that has shamefully not disappeared since Neteyam’s confession take the wheel and give your mind a break. However, that is not the Olo’eyktan’s design. He means to drive a lesson home. 

“I was under the impression that you simply didn’t enjoy giving oral, not with the way your scent soured every time that pathetic man had you on your knees.” 

Your whimper of distress only turns into a hum that vibrates along him. Neteyam’s grins, toes digging into the earth below. 

“But now I see that is not the case.” His hips roll forward, hand crawling to cradle the back of your head. “Staining that little loincloth for me. You just needed the right man to fill that pretty mouth didn’t you?” 

Your protests are nothing more than high pitched whines as he picks up rhythm, only half of his cock fitting inside yet still more than enough to fill your throat. 

“No need to deny it, oeyӓ tiyawn. Your body has been loyal to me from the very beginning.” That hand fists into your hair, holding you down on his cock as tears gather over your eyes. “Even when your mind has a hard time catching up.” All sweetness dissipates from his voice, left only with a hard steel. 

“Like today for instance.” 

You suck in air as soon as your mouth is empty, coughing and crying as he keeps that grip in your hair. A firm yank has your neck straining to look up at him. 

“I thought you would know better, little gift.” 

You subconsciously grip his thighs in order to keep yourself standing upright.

“But it looks like I need to spell it out for you.” 

Suddenly your mouth is filled again but instead of waiting to let you suckle and explore, Neteyam immediately sets pace spearing down your throat. Nails digging into his toned thighs, you focus on keeping your breathing steady and relaxed. 

“Good pets do not stare at other men. They do not let them smell their arousal.” Neteyam grinds out, a groan lacing his words as you feel him twitch. Your throat convulses around him, the urge to breathe through your mouth ever increasing. “Because good pets know who they belong to.” 

The trembling in your legs skyrockets as your knees threaten to buckle. Suddenly Neteyam’s grip in your hair is not just there to keep you swallowing him down but also as an extra support. 

“Do you know who you belong to, little gift?” A shudder ripples over his toned body, balls drawing up tight. And yet he pauses, keeping you frozen but still stretched around him. 

He wants a response. 

Nodding doesn’t appear to cut it, not when he tacks on a “and who is that?”. 

You go to scoff at his persistence but it’s only another choked cough around him, tears spilling down your cheeks. He hips slant forward pressing himself even further down your throat until you are gagging. 

“Say it.” The Olo’eyktan demands. “Say my name.” 

He pulls out and airs hiccups through your lungs so fast you almost swoon backwards. But his name is still the first gasp to escape your lips. 

“Nete-..Neteyaaaam.” It’s come out as almost a complaint but the Olo’eyktan’s joy is not diminished. His tails coils and flickers at the sound of your wrecked voice. 

“Good girl.” That praise wraps around you, head lulling to rest against his palm. “Now come here and let me fuck your throat.” 

It shouldn’t turn you on. The crude words are the furthest thing from what you should want but Neteyam’s accented voice purrs them like a lullaby. So dark, smooth and alluring that you find your mouth opening on its own accord. 

Neteyam’s grins wider than the night that he first saw you tied up with that pretty bow. You push the implications of what you have just done to the back of your head.

Despite his satisfaction, Neteyam doesn’t take it easy on you. The length of him can never fully make it down your throat but that doesn’t stop him from trying. An obscene wet sound is made every time he thrusts back in and you can feel him shiver. 

“Aww so pretty like this tiyawn. Wish you could see yourself right now.” His head throws back for a second when your  airpipe contracts around him again. “Crying so sweetly for me.”

His gentle tone is a great contrast to the way his cock bullies itself into the tight space. So sweet in comparison to the way he fucks your throat like you’re his own personal fleshlight. 

“Maybe we will have to steal a mirror from Bridgehead soon. Let you see what a wrecked masterpiece you are.” 

Even as you struggle to breath and your throat aches, his dirty words burn the flames inside of you higher and higher. You will feel ashamed later, you know it, but for now you let him fill every crevice in your brain. It keeps the fear of Jeremy’s safety at bay. It keeps the reality of your situation from catching up with you. It keeps you as his pretty little pet that is doing oh such a good job. 

“Fuck! You feel so good around me, tiyawn. Good fucking girl!” Neteyam’s groan is gravely, muscles along his abdomen erratically flexing and you know what is coming before his warning ever reaches your ears. 

With a deep groan of your name, thick seed spurts down your throat. It’s too much to fully swallow but luckily Neteyam lets you off halfway through, the remnants painting your cheeks and lips. Your own thighs clench together as you watch him recover, his impressive physique inflating and deflating heavily with every breath. 

Your throat feels like sandpaper as you collapse against him, head nuzzled against his hip as you cling to his right thigh. Neteyam’s fingers fondly stroke through your tangled hair as he congratulates you on learning your lesson. 

You almost bite his finger when the next piece of meat passes your lips but this time it is by accident. Your habit of grinding your teeth together when nearing climax is becoming a problem. Three massive fingers tease and massage at that spongy spot inside of you as you drool around Neteyam’s fingers. 

The Olo’eyktan chuckles and plucks another piece of meat to feed you. 

“Remember to chew.” He says with a smirk when his thumb flicks over your clit and you almost choke. 

Perched in his lap, smothering his fingers with your juices as he hand feeds you, there is surely not a better picture of obedience one could paint. 

A picture that Neteyam cherishes. 

But a memory you vow to forget. 

I hope you enjoyed! Thank you all for your support and messages for this series especially! Hearing back from you all always makes me excited to write and update<3 Don't be afraid to let me know what you think

Taglist: @pandoraslxna @neteyamssyulang @tallulah477 @criticallybella @sullybrothersmate @lilghostiequinni @chershire23 @lala-1516 @teyamshuman @yawnetu @puddle-nerd @ratchetprime211 @avatargirly @chocolatechocobo91 @kariz-stark @bunnscoffe @avatarwifey @universal-s1ut @witchsprit @heart-an0n @riri-is-a-girlie @rivatar @minnory @ikeyniofthetayrangi @ilovehobi101 @spicymayyo @v4mp1rr3 @nilsavatar @bambithewriter @quicktosimp @itchaboi-itchyboy @thehoneymushroomhealer @ilytulipse @witchsprit @imwutim @crazy4books1 @thegirlwholoveslivesfanfiction @danniackerman @dayyzlol @justabite7 @krispyjellyfishkitty

Please let me know if I missed you or if you'd like to be removed from the list<3

[amazingabellini]

Every Single Thing 621 is Called on Rubicon

Dog Augmented Human C4-621 You 621 Intruder Illegal Enemy AC Merc Corp AC Registration number Rb23 Raven Callsign: Raven Mercenary Corporate Merc Corporate Dog Interloper Military Force Hostile AC Shameless Coral scavenger Independent Mercenary Hunter Sharp A local An Independent A merc who only kills for credits A real merc G13 G13 Raven Kiddo Freelancer Maggot Fake Redgun Tagalong Sewing club member Not a total amateur Not a pro Corporate Vulture Mere pawn Scavenger Hound of Walter Competition Good for nothing Good for something Wretched vulture Unidentified AC Damn Hyena Rotten Money-grubber Corporate scum Enemy backup One of the infamous Walter's hounds Wallclimber War buddies Comrade Buddy Intruder Doser Shameless Corporate Dog Greedy Mercenary Greedy hound Daring A symbol of resolve Only Other Person That Can Keep Up With Me You Again Old Augmentation Recalcitrant Mutt Vermin Pest The Pest of Rubicon Code 15 Raven the Wallclimber Code 31C Solo Independent Mercenary Pitiful Dog Gen 4 Fine hound Another dead dog Older type of Augmented Human Tourist No ordinary tourist Smart Cookie No slouch A cut above the rest Not afraid of anything Belongs in a museum Freak My favorite little Tourist A certain someone New friend The Freelancer from the dam raid Target Walter's Hound Solo AC Independent Merc Trespasser to Rubicon Walking Advertisement Mascot AC of Unknown Affiliation Suspected Corporate Hire Single AC Code 5, Unknown AC Independent Mercenary Assembly That AC Hostile AC Priority Subject for Termination One helluva merc Hired Operative Intruding AC Grunt Famous Mercenary Fine Soldier One Loose End Corpse Quick on the uptake Not like those savages Cur Scoundrel Oathbreaker Just an AC Patchwork AC Better than the other ACs Like a bird in flight Killer Menace to Rubicon Target for Termination Unknown Intruder Intrusion Attempt Menace Volunteer The Objective Just a Gen 4 Strong Worthy of your name False Alarm Impostor Impressive Pilot Wormkiller Threat to Planetary Closure 20 Iguazus A Real Redgun Not so Special Too Dangerous to Keep Around Not Afraid to Die The Only G13 Who's Managed To Live This Long Strong A Threat Dangerous Another Threat to Rubicon Veteran The Mercenary Who Took Your Name Rat Fool The Big One Corporate pawn Rather Extraordinary Gen 4 Augmentation High Level Threat Strong Candidate One of Allmind's The One Rusty was talking about Head in the Clouds Old-Gen Alive Handler's Hound Old Colleague Subject Beast of burden Guest of Honor The Key Smartass Freelancer Wonderful People Demon Miserable Relic Trigger for the Change to come Dog without a shred of intelligence Not worthy of humanity Stray Dog Obstacle Faithful Hound Biggest Threat Legacy Augmentation The Greatest Obstacle The Liberator of Rubicon The only one The Spark of War The Fires that Haunt Rubicon The Monster who Burned the Stars One With Allmind Aberrations to The Plan Trigger for Coral Release Irregular The Old-Gen Who Could Do It All

The Freelancer Who Had It All

[sinn-bee]

[Excerpts from the studies of the Beast Taming peak]

The Gilded Mane Corpse Wolf

A demonic beast from the wastes of the demon realms, they are solitary creatures who seldom form packs. They begin life as scavengers, the pups setting off on their own and surviving off of scraps as they seek out the strongest demonic beast they can find. They learn to hunt and stalk, waiting for the powerful beast they have chosen to meet an untimely end and on the rare occasion delivering the final blow to carry it to death’s door. The Gilded Mane Corpse Wolf will then make its territory around its chosen one’s resting place, guarding the decomposing monster, feasting on it, and waiting for its bones to be picked clean by vermin as it grows to a size comparable to the dead beast.

When the bones are clean and free, the Gilded Mane Corpse Wolf will arrange the bones and roll in them- tangling them into its long golden fur until they are secure. With a surge of demonic energy the fur hardens into a metallic material, permanently affixing the bones as armor.

It is less of a scavenger at this point, depending on the kind of beast skeleton the Wolf has grown to don, it can range from a sleek and quick deadly predator equipped with sharp spurs of bone to a nigh impenetrable foe with thick armor. It then stalks its territory, expanding its borders and driving away strong beasts, inflicting them with deep wounds.

The pups are often sought out by demonic courts as trophies. Plucked from their pilgrimage for their clean and untangled fur that has many uses from a brilliant conduit for demonic energy to being used for beautiful embroidery to hardening into its metallic form for weapons. Less commonly, they are captured to be trained as war hounds. They are difficult to tame and raise, the confinement making it difficult for them to grow and become suitable for the handpicked bones its captors try to make it don. But on the rare occasion that its owners are successful they make formidable beasts on the battlefield regardless of their unpredictable temper.

It is not recommended to approach this demonic beast alone, given as each one is unique outfitted it is impossible to plan ahead to fight. They are best fought with a team of cultivators that possess a wide range of fighting styles and experiences. The bones of the Gilded Mane Corpse Wolf are potent with Demonic energy but if harvested and cleansed can be used for crafted powerful spiritual objects with a strength for detecting evil. The ivory crafted this way always carries a lovely golden sheen. The fur can also be used as a potent material for weaving spells and talismans into fabric. It is unknown if humans are capable of taming these creatures as the pups reside very far in the demon realm and are experts at evasion. On the few noted experiences of cultivators finding escaped trained Wolves, they do not seem keen on taking human instruction.

[end of excerpt]

Did I write a whole journal entry on the Pidw creature I made up for a fic? Yes. Yes I did <3 Fun fact, I sketched this on paper first and then colored it digitally! The specific wolf here is wearing bones based off of a rhinoceros skeleton a dark moon python rhinoceros maybe…

[theresattrpgforthat]

do you have any recomendations for ttrpgs with interesting mechanics around inventory management? for example something where you need to fit the items of your inventory in a grid (like dredge (which although it is a videogame rather than a ttrpg does have the kind of mechanic im thinking of)) or where inventory management is a core part of the gameplay.

thank you in advance :D

THEME: Interesting Inventory.

Hello friend! I’ve got a few games here that do interesting things with inventory limit, and I also have some other games that provide limitations on your gear in other ways.

SCRAPPED, by rolomics.

The year is 2124, and 99.9% of the human population is gone. Automatons reign supreme. Homunculi were created by splicing human DNA with other animal/creature DNA to enhance their body structure and strength. Because of this, Homunculi serve as super soldiers for the humans, but even with all their efforts, they still could not stop the automaton take over. 

You are a Homunculus, the echo of a past era and all that remains of humanity.

Scrapped is an original post-apocalyptic rules-lite tabletop role-playing game about scavenging, crafting, and surviving in the unforgiving wastes of a planet obliterated by war. This game was inspired by other post-apocalyptic games from the Fallout franchise.

Scavenging and crafting are at the heart of this game, and that means that Scrapped has paid a lot of attention to inventory. The game comes with item cutouts to help you visualize your inventory, and also requires you to ‘slot” certain items into certain places - if an item doesn’t fit, you can’t carry it! Each character occupation starts with specific pieces of equipment, although you’ll be able to scavenge more along the way. On top of that, you’ll also play around with mutations that affect your character, spending Mutation Points to get beneficial and effective mutations.

If you’re interested in this game, it’s currently free! The designers are eager for feedback and would definitely love to hear from anyone who plays it.

Numenera / The Cypher System, by Monte Cook Games.

This is the Ninth World. The people of the prior worlds are gone—scattered, disappeared, or transcended. But their works remain, in the places and devices that still contain some germ of their original function. The ignorant call these magic, but the wise know that these are our legacy. They are our future. They are the …

Numenera.

Set a billion years in our future, Numenera is a tabletop roleplaying game about exploration and discovery. The people of the Ninth World suffer through a dark age, an era of isolation and struggle in the shadow of the ancient wonders crafted by civilizations millennia gone. But discovery awaits those brave enough to seek out the works of the prior worlds. Those who can uncover and master the numenera can unlock the powers and abilities of the ancients, and perhaps bring new light to a struggling world.

I’ve talked about it before but I really enjoy the way items in this system are used to hold really powerful abilities that are usually only used once. Your character can only carry so many Cyphers at any given time, with a risk of strange or weird things happening if they decide to carry more than their typical limit allows. Cyphers can be found on roll tables, which means that any time players decide to look for loot, the GM can just roll a d100 to generate something interesting - and if you really want to get into the nitty-gritty of customizable inventory, I recommend both the Destiny and Building Tomorrow books to complement your campaign.

Breathless: New Horizons, by The Silent Mage.

Breathless - New Horizons is a game based on a primordial future, where giant technological beasts took over with inexplicable awareness, after a scientific crash down.  This game is freely inspired on the Horizon Zero Dawn games.

As humanity rebuilds itself from nothing, you act as Hunters, skilled member of the Guilds, scouting the world for lost knowledge and mysterious pieces of technology called Echoes. 

In Breathless - New Horizons, your items are nearly equally useful to skills, with a dice attached to each item. As with other rolls in Breathless, the item deteriorates the more you use it, symbolized by the size of your dice getting smaller with each use - but unlike skills, items don’t refresh when you take a break. Use an item too much and it deteriorates to the point of uselessness, which means that getting new items is important if you want to be able to keep adventuring. Fortunately, there are loot check rolls attached to tables, which means that while you might not have a lot of control over what you get, there should be plenty of opportunities to re-stock.

This game also has a special kind of item, called an Echo, which can be carried in limited numbers (typically you can only carry 2). Echoes might require a bit of construction before they’re usable, but have special effects that go above and beyond a regular item, and some of them can even be re-charged.

Dead Meat, by Blind Ink.

Dead Meat is a hack of FIST by Claymore. It is a cyberpunk game set in a brutal, absurd dystopia where man and machine are equally worthless in the eyes of the unrelenting pressure of exploitation. Thrown headfirst into problems beyond their ability to solve, players will have to cheat, steal, and sabotage their way through missions to get by. Put money away in a stash to get out of the life, watching your friends drop like flies.

Dead Meat takes an approach to gear that is similar to what I’ve seen in games like Apocalypse World and Monster of the Week. Your gear is determined by your origin, and how the gear can be used is determined through the use of tags. Some of these tags are mechanically transparent - how many times you can use them, or how much they heal or harm - but other tags are more evocative. For example, a vampiric weapon heals you when you use it, while a messy weapon prevents enemies or victims from being identified by police. I have a feeling some of these tags could also bring a narrative downside - perhaps it’s hard to hide a murder with a messy weapon, and a weapon that houses an AI might disregard the wishes of its user.

As with many cyberpunk games, there’s plenty of items that your character can pick up and carry without that much of a drawback - because regular items aren’t what makes this interesting. What you’re really here for, is the Cyberware. In Dead Meat, Cyberware is difficult to get access to, which means that beggars can’t be choosers - if you decide to get chromed up, you’ll take whatever the market gives you, and you’ll like it. As far as I can tell, getting a new piece of Cyberware is kind of like getting a new PbtA move - for example, if you end up getting Advanced Optics, you get +1 to your Chrome stat and you have the ability to pull up someone’s records off the net.

The Grim Odd, by g0ri.

This is a grim world. Any life lived in this world shall be nasty, brutish and short. This is an odd world. From the foul cracks and fissures of the world creeps a strange and omnipotent current – the Odd. Some say the Odd suffocated the gods. Others insist the Odd is the gods. In either case, the Odd animates the living world and it presents opportunities for the daringly ambitious.

The Grim Odd is a fantasy roleplaying game that takes place in a perilous world of unjust dealings and unworldly strangeness. Roll up a character quickly, search for magical artifacts known as Oddities, and delve - as a group or alone - into a role-play experience where rules are mere tools to facilitate the application of the internal laws of the world itself.

OSR/FKR Games often put the lore in pieces of the game like characters or gear and this is a great example. The Odd is a mysterious, powerful piece of the setting, illustrated through Oddities, strange items that grant you power but demand a cost for their use. You can use these oddities to inspire an adventure or mystery, and let the players keep them as they adventure - at great personal risk.

Characters also start with a basic inventory determined by their career, which they should be able to use to solve problems in ways that help them avoid having to roll - and therefore face death or other consequences. If you want a game where your inventory is a fundamental part of telling a story, you might want to check out games like this one.

Convenience Stores & Casinos, by Archangel Studios.

We've all seen those over-the-top, high action heist movies with get-away drivers, explosives, and wild gun fights. Well, what if you took those tropes, typically reserved for the likes of bank, museum, and casino heists, and applied them to just about anything you can get your grubby paws on? I mean, a heist is a heist is a heist as long as you have the right attitude. 

Convenience Stores & Casinos is great for groups that want to go big or go home - even if going big just means an over-complicated heist just to steal a bag of chips. Characters are derived from rolled stats, and playbooks that represent different tropes in heist fiction.

There’s not a lot to do with inventory in this game; the only tables present are the weapon and armour tables. However, weapons and armour are attached to level; you have a chance of getting something good at a low level but that chance is very slim. As the characters prepare for a heist, they can roll to see what kinds of weapons they’re allowed to have, and the higher level they are, the higher chance that they find something that can pack a real punch. Combat is not something you’ll want to get into at the beginning - but as you level up, you’ll take bigger and bigger risks, which will probably lead to more and more things going wrong. I also like the section on the weapon table titled “you just wanted to play D&D didn’t you?”

Other Posts of Mine To Check Out

Markets and Trade

Gathering and Crafting

Weapons and Customization

[dailyadventureprompts]

Adventure: Along the Road of Nameless Graves

Presiding over a series of forested foothills and mountainous valleys that divide two rival kingdoms, the mist-shrouded barony of Siirvyn has seen more than its share of war over the past generations. Betrayal, invasion, and massacre are all too common motifs in the barony's long history, leaving all sorts of scars on both the landscape and the people who dwell within it.

Adventure Hooks:

Rumours of a treasure draw the party to Siirvyn, apparently concealed in a vault beneath the ruined castle of a long dead baroness Taviaa. Surely it won't be too hard to locate a single ruin in a land frequently beset by war, right?

The party arn't the only one combing across the barony looking for something. A hardluck knight seeks her brother after he vanished on a foolish quest, and might be willing to help the party out of jam if they aid her in search.

Folk of the barony tell of Grimcackle, a great black winged beast that moorlands that's sometimes heard laughing over the desolate battlefields but is only ever seen by the lost and the desperate. To heed the old stories it plunders the old battlefields of it's choicest riches, hoarding the wealth of the dead over centuries of war.

Subquest 1:

The party's hunt for riches gets complicated after arriving in the region to find that there has been no less than eight baroness Taviaas over the past century(backwater fiefdoms do like tradition after all) with five castles between them. Most have been destroyed by disaster, neglect, or siege, leaving the party to trek across the land checking checking out each option (though a clever party might narrow their search by hitting the local archives and cross referencing historical accounts).

Potential ruins include:

The delapidated lair of the local owlbear

Huanted by the ghost of one of the baronesses Taviaa,

The Hideout of a gang of smugglers with far reaching ties

Thoroughly cursed by a battlefield savaging spriggan who deals in cursed weapons.

To make matters even more complicated, one of the castles has been restored by the current baron Arkolo who would likely not take kindly to a band of renegade sellswords pilfering riches from under his nose, forcing the party to avoid it entirely or risk getting thrown in the dungeon if caught.

Subquest 2:

Ser Riley of Breakbridge never expected to inherit the family title, her father favoured her elder brother Rhys far more, and when the old man died in the last war there was no question who his holdings would pass to. Then, a couple of years ago Rhys got it into his head that he needed to reclaim the family's ancestral sword which was lost in the same bloody battle that did their father in, crossing the mountains to scour old battlefields and not being seen since. After righting the mess Rhys caused by his chivalric absence, Riley has come to Siirvyn herself to drag him, or possibly his body back from his foolhardy quest. The party may run into her requesting aid from the Baron, seeking advice from the local shrine to Tyr, or drinking off another unsuccessful trek through the wilderness at the local tavern. She'd welcome their aid in her search, and would gladly pay them back by lending her blade to theirs in their search (or using her influence to spring them from the baron's dungeons, should they have been caught).

Rhys' trail snakes all across the barony (including leaving a journal in one of the ruins the party wanted to search), but terminates in the great barren battlefield that was his father's last stand. While searching these moorlands the party & Ser Riley will run into a band of armed scavengers apparently conducting their own body-hunt for one of their fallen comrades. They served on the opposite side of the war from Riley's family, and if that wasn't bad blood enough, they apparently came to blows with Rhys a little under a year ago and aim to settle the score with his sister.

Regardless of how the standoff plays out (talking the scavengers down and exchanging favours or beating the information out of them) the Next step is to find Grimcackle's nest. By now (especially if you're playing with my affliction system and the party is tired out from all their wandering across the countryside) the party will have realized that the only way to see the great raven is to be nearing the edge of death, whether through actively dying, being poisoned, or just being exhausted to the bone. This is because the great raven is infact a psychopomp, tasked with sorting out the dead from the region's innumerable wars. Once the party find the particular tor the dread raven uses as roost, they'll find him quite chatty in the way of most birds, happy to trade gossip or play show and tell with his many finds. Rhys did indeed come to challenge Grimcackle for the sword, an act of daring rudness that forced the psychopomp to drag the knight's soul to the purgatory it rightfully belonged.

Resigned by the love she bears her brother, Riley insists she must venture into the shadow to save him, leaving the party with the choice of convincing her to abandon her quest, leave her to her fruitless pursuit of honour, or risk it all alongside her for the sake of an idiot who thought he could convince an aspect of death to respect his pedigree.

Subquest 3:

After their harrowing adventure the party return to town to find that Baron Akolo has been assassinated and all of Siivyrn has been thrown into chaos and suspicion. Fingers point and depending who the blame lands on it might spell civil war or invasion for the backwoods barony once again.

Background: Both neighbouring powers wish to control who moves through the region's winding passes, and expend great effort in both war and peace to ensure the barony is favourable to them. While occupying armies and vassalage have been all too common in the past, the region's ostensibly independent ruler Baron Arkolo is a puppet in all but name for the winning side of the most recent war. Little more than a bandit leader during the conflict savaging battlefields and attacking supply lines on both sides, Arkolo saw the way the wind was blowing before anyone else and made himself indispensable to his current patrons before their inevitable victory.

Little more than a strongman at first, the newly elevated baron managed to ingratiate himself to his subjects by leveraging his outlaw status to cast himself as a hero fighting against the great powers rather than ruling on their behalf. All the while the canny old bandit was of course playing both sides, toadying to the victorious kingdom while helping to run the smuggling operation for their rivals.

Clues & Consequences:

The baron had a stormy relationship with his son and prospective heir Kalo, who came up raiding alongside his father. After the war however, the young man felt he'd had enough of violence renounced his possesisons and joined the secluded temple of Tyr as a means of making peace with his bloody past. Arkolo never approved of his son's taking the cloth, refused to name another heir and would frequently make pilgramage to the temple just to argue with him. Despite their years of contention however the had seemed to reconcile in recent months, becoming closer than ever. Kalo is not taking his father's murder well, and has decided to dust off his old bandit skills alongside his newfound connection to a wargod as a means of finding the killer. Like an angered bull, he's liable to charge at whoever draws his attention, a weakness the real culprit might use to direct him onto the party's trail.

Gareth Gosdown, the baron's advisor and castilian is an agent of their patron kingdom, sent to keep the former outlaw in line and the kingdom's garrisons well supplied. In the wake of Arkolo's death, he's less interested in finding the killer than he is reinforcing his masters' hold over the barony in case of a new invasion. Known for butting heads with the Baron's more slapdash ruling style he's the one the common folk are most likely to point to.

Taviaa (ninth of that name) was born to the Baron after he'd claimed the region and married one of the local nobles. Though still young, she has a cutthroat attitude and a mind for politics, which made it all the more frustrating when her father refused to give up on her pious half brother as heir and name her instead. She knows she's the obvious culprit, the case made all the more convincing by the fact that she's recently been paling around with emissaries from the other kingdom.

Art 1

Art 2

[thescarletnargacuga]

War Wanderer

A HARLEQUIN AU ONESHOT/POEM

A/N: inspired by Rudyard Kipling's "BOOTS" and the 28 years later trailer

WARNING: Post-Apocalyptic

A lone figure marches on in the vast silence of a dead, war torn world. Only the sound of his own boots against the cobblestone and the clicking of his mechanized body quietly echoes through the alleys of the smoldering City of Circuits.

Seven—six—eleven—five—nine an' twenty mile today—

Four—eleven—seventeen—thirty-two the day before—

Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin' up an' down again!

There's no discharge in the war!

Bodies. So many bodies. The carrion of men, innocent or otherwise, rotted the streets. Scavenging birds feast.

Puppet pieces scattered like scrap left to rust. D.I.E's removed and destroyed.

Don't—don't—don't—don't—look at what's in front of you.

Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin' up an' down again;

Men—men—men—men—men go mad with watchin' em,

There's no discharge in the war!

He could still hear them. The souls of the damned.

Crying. Screaming. Begging.

Those lost to the lies they were sold.

Liberation.

This was supposed to be... liberation.

If—your—eyes—drop—they will get atop o' you!

Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin' up an' down again—

There's no discharge in the war!

All that was left were the mechanical monsters. The vengeful legacy of the ruling class.

Man. Puppets. It didn't matter. All were made low by screaming metal.

Great beasts designed in the service of death.

Try—try—try—try—to think o' something different—

Oh—my—God—keep—me from goin' lunatic!

Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin' up an' down again!

There's no discharge in the war!

He wished to be free.

He wished to punish those who wronged him.

He wished for revolution.

He wished for her return.

Seven—six—eleven—five- four—seventeen—thirty-two the day before—

Be careful what you wish for, Puppetmaster.

[catgirlredux]

what if i was a giant machine of war, once a beast of lightning and steel, pure death encapsulated in a perfect impenetrable skin, a machine capable of turning the tide of a battle merely by my presence, but now decommissioned and aging, parts stolen by scavengers, abandoned in peacetime by the same people who once sang my praises; and you were my mechanic, sworn to secrecy (not that you’re close enough to anyone to tell), making just enough money from your shitty government job to keep the warehouse where I reside powered, sleeping in the shadow of my chassis at night

and we were both lesbians?

[brittle-doughie]

In the Ancient Beast Order AU, I'd imagine that all of Earthbread is one pin drop away from collapsing into what would essentially be the Dark Flour War 2. Between the conflicts the ABO have with the OG beasts and what the ABO have planned for Earthbread, tensions are high and armies on on high alert. If those embers make a spark... things will get hectic. Which brings me to my little idea. What if instead of being the ruler of the Cookie Kingdom over the course of this theoretical "Dark Flour War 2", Y/N Cookie was a scavenger in this time of extreme chaos?They'd head onto the battlefields of Earthbread to scavenge whatever they can find and quickly get out. Between the ABO, The OG Beasts, and all the other major players on Earthbread; there is no shortage of battle and chaos. Unfortunately for Y/N Cookie, through one way or another, gets on the radar of both the ABO and the OG Beasts. And this time, they have no army at their back...

They might just be that exact pin drop needed to ignite Dark Flour War 2, or at least a contributing factor.

[tljisthegoat]

If Ben Solo never comes back, then we definitely NEED a good answer as to why he isn't a Force Ghost. The best answer is that Anakin, using his newfound abilities saves Ben Solo from death. With the big catch being that he's seemingly stuck in The World Between Worlds.

Rey learning about the entire history of the Star Wars universe is a must. What better way to show off her previously established scavenger expertise than to have her scrape together all the info she can on her travels across the universe.

You can also have this be a good way of showing how empty she feels after the loss of Ben.

She'd feel his absence like a cutting void. Not unlike a black hole. Swallowing all the light in her soul. She'd feel suffocated by this facade of being a Jedi. When she's always been a lonely scavenger desperately clinging to hope.

Hope isn't something she's felt in what feels like an eternity. What cause is there to truly fight for. What would that even mean for her now?

All roads lead to Rey's tragic downfall. A grief-stricken heart smothered and shattered by war. Darkness fills her hollow heart with righteous anger. Her eyes turned a sickly yellow, her skin paled significantly. Her hair looks like a wild beast's mane, wild and unruly. Longer than it's ever been, reaching down past her shoulders.

She will get back what's hers. Ben Solo.