#optical gas mask

[goatsludge]

U.S. M2-10-6 Army Lightweight Optical Mask (Not to be confused with the postwar M2-10A1-6)

This example is dated June 1944 and faceblank made by the Sun Rubber Company.

It's in reasonably fair condition, but unfortunately missing one of the lenses and with a badly punctured voice membrane. However examples in any condition are scarce, so these are non-issues and I should be able to repair them later down the road.

^These are the only two period photos we have of these things for the record; enjoy.

These masks would have been issued to armored vehicle crews and anyone in a non-active role that needs the ability to use optical gun sights with better clarity than the Service and Diaphragm masks could offer.

As usual, this example belongs to @bureau-of-mines

[robotsprinkles]

if bungie are really having so much trouble making new ritual armour sets every year they should just either start adding in armour from d1 (yeah they'd have to do retopo and retexturing and the like but y'know. no need to worry about design and concepting)

or go back to the method they used for character asset creation in D1 (modular construction, assets being made of "Bits" and "Bunches of Bits" made in their mashup and gear manager programs (plugins?)) which according to their 2014 "Building Customizable Characters for Bungie's Destiny" GDC talk allowed them to make "a new piece of helmet content in about 20 minutes"

(yes using the mashup/gm bits and bobs asset creation method would result in a lot of reused and very similar assets with potentially less aesthetic variety but they could probably deal with at least some of that by having a team organise assets by similarity and picking the best one from each group or something)

[midnightbears]

✿ duskbound, afterlight.

#STARRING: cybertronian fem reader & other characters.

#TAGS: trauma. talks of character death. hopelessness? mentions of prostitution. no appearance of canon characters because this is an intro. hunger games reference!

#NOTES: hi! still alive, just not writing for kny atm because my head is like a powerpoint presentation with all my hyperfixations and i can't write for requests when it is on another slide. hope that makes sense. this is the first chapter of my megatron x reader, a strangers to lovers to enemies featuring pre-war cybertron, a magnanimous amount of lore, a lot of non-cannon stuff like sparklings and stuff because i can do whatever i want, and my flickering motivation to finish it. i don't have a specific transformers i'm basing the timeline off, so we will see. i thought of publishing it on ao3 or smth but i have better judgement so i just figured i would upload the first chapter on tumblr. the new transformers movie was soooo good and it inadvertently rekindled my transformers obsession. enjoy? let me know if you like it, i would appreciate it if you have questions or anything :) THIS BITCH IS LONG SO BEWARE

part two | part three | part four | part five

"Y/N, my optics hurt."

"I know, sweetspark, I know."

This place reeked. Pure flowing smoke and vapor, stinking energon, and the smell of the gray coal and ash that powdered the laborers' and miners' bodies like scintillating glitter filled the pavements of that day—such fragrant poetry. 

The barely perceivable light that shone down could not even be called proper illumination in the first place. Every once in a while, the wells of your optics danced up to gaze toward where the sweltering sunlight was supposed to be.

Still, your spark did nothing but wail at you when, each time, all that you caught were mountains upon mountains of pitch-dark vapor, dull particles of dust from the mines, and the visualization of the austere whispers of despair and anguish among the workers of one of the mining towns from one of Cybertron's Primus-forsaken satellites, Nuna 5PY.

Even if you turned to look towards the downtown streets, the particles infiltrated your vents and blistered your optics.

Some workers used gas masks, while others retreated to the mines, where the synthetic stench wasn't as foul, but most were forced to return to work. They snatched up energon everywhere they could, recharged in fits and starts among their screaming. You seriously needed to leave.

As Vaportrail coughed onto the city street, you held her small servo. Even with the torrential acid pouring last night, the smog got to her well before the rush hour. 

You realized things would not improve today, so you hurried in fear of the younger developing tear-streaked optics and a headache to match. It saddened you that Vaportrail would never know what a normal life would be like. It was as though they had collectively given up years before she was born, which was unjust to her and all the future sparklings. 

You grabbed her and pulled her into the cart. Traveling was enjoyable, but not at the price of introducing additional hazardous particles into the environment. 

Mining Outpost R–02 was one of the towns from Nuna 5PY, where unnamed members of the lower classes labored interminably, tediously. The gloomy, smoky shambles of a metropolis required the Communication Grid to communicate with other areas and locations simply. It was no place for a sparkling. 

The infant cybertronian lay quietly on the sulfurous mine carriage attached to the railway, more vulnerable than the glass that was painstakingly constructed for the masses of the High-caste buildings and just as giddily colored.

You wondered if her peds are dirty; how would you know? You pondered what she ate back when Starlight was still living in this downtown slum; where did her mother get energon to nourish her? 

Your servos were callous from several scars and defects, and a part of you ached to sweep her up in her arms and shelter her eternally. But. How could you ever live with yourself if you didn't allow such an innocent being to live a tranquil life?

"I'm sorry about your carrier," You told the sparkling wistfully, making sure she was comfortable for the long ride from here to where your late best friend wanted her youngling to go if something ever happened to her. You gave her a small pad which contained personal information like her name and situation, along with a plead for somebot to take her to safety, "Cybertropolis is a nice place, just make sure you reach the police station safely, they'll know where to take you." 

"Thank you," Vaportrail squeaked out, her knees pulled up to her chest plate. 

The train inevitably started, and you walked in tandem with the slow speed of the carriage just to get a good, final look at the sparkling's dainty, cheerless face. Vaportrail would surely be a problem when she got older because all of the mechs would swoon over her—deservingly so.

With those optics and a grin as charming and gauzy as that, she was the very picture of the youthful beauty who had once bored the name of Starlight. You believed she was the sweetest femmeling on the planet.

"I love you, okay? And I'm sure your carrier is so proud of you. Good luck!"

Eventually, you had to withdraw from the train, which only allowed you to stare at the vanishing small frame of a waving Vaportrail, whose response had been forever lost in the sad, sepulchral winds of the town. 

Despite that, you could still stare at the sparkling's naive, callow features and find colossal gratitude and admiration in its place, which made a lump form in your voicebox and squeezing palpation beat inside your spark chamber.

With Vaportrail gone, the smell of blazing smoke burned your olfactory sensors and induced you to cover them with your suitable servo. You had never before realized that the shrilling blare of the injectors, the drills, the massive excavators, and the wheels of the trucks could be so overwhelmingly loud, either. From the corner of your optics, the flashes and instants of the sparks that aimlessly flew around whenever metal met metal brought you out of your bewildered daydream. 

But then you turned and saw the portrait of shattered ambition, lost hope, undetermined origins, opaque bitterness, damaged honor, futile dreams, and wavering will that assembled the cybertronians of Nuna 5PY.

It was a blow to the back of your head.

Starlight was dead.

If you closed your optics, you could still see the glow on her metallurgical protoform, the spark that no longer burned, and the sound of her laughter that still reverberated in your audio receptors and processor.

Oh, you missed her desperately. 

She'd spent her days as a young and daring cybertronian who didn't let the vacillating shame of her prostitution career ridicule her or anything she was. A good, pleasant, and kind femme that thrived and existed, only for some mech to tear her from her home and forever close her laughing optics. She was a femme, a friend, a sister, and a carrier.

She was someone.

"Oi, femme!"

You knew that whoever was calling that word in such a degrading manner was referring to you and you only. You were aware that you were one of the few femmes working on that hellhole.

Sourly, you turned your helm to the source of the voicebox and found your boss—if he could even be called that—staring at you rigorously from across the street. Other mechs were beside him, and in their hungry optics, you could see hunger, amusement, a blatant lack of respect, and other things—all of it for you.

"You said five minutes. Start moving your aft before I tell someone to move it for you."

The group of despicable mechs started laughing at the humorous, unique, spectacular, utterly not-ever-done-before knee-slapper comment. You wondered what comedians told to get a chuckle or two out of their audience nowadays. 

You detested yourself when you started walking back to the mines with crystal-clear coolant forming in your optics and with the words caught inside your voicebox.

Even the clicking of your battered timer had a languid touch in the fading light of their (your) chamber as if it were a spark-beat at rest. The perpetual rhythm of it became more of a white noise inside the transparent yet spurious safety surrounding your beguiling, chimerical space bubble. 

The memory of the lingering perfume of Starlight's aromatic utensils saturated you far more intensely than it did only days before, making you want to pound and bang your head against the wall until you ran out of energon inside your body.

Your spark chamber was wrenched apart in the core by a hollow cavity. It had been there for forty-eight groons. Faithless and cynical, the pit that took form inside of you pulled you to the very depths of your revolted mind.

You were immobile, your bare servos lying at your sides and your digits tinkering with the berth. Everything within the room drove you crazy and made you want to tear out your optics under the scrutinizing, deep-rooted omnipresence of both the carrier and the sparkling.

Vaportrail was not napping on her carrier's bed; her small chest plating was not rising and falling according to her mellow, smooth breathing. You remembered how she would spring from Starlight's berth just to greet you after every single burdensome solar cycle of nothing but suffering under the cruel comments and sometimes spiteful actions of mechs and their superiors. 

You knew and understood that she left for a better life in Cybertropolis, yet you just can't comprehend why you are not hearing her dulcet giggles and her voice as soft as a feather.

"Y/N, look at me!"

You turned your helm lightly toward the soft-spoken sparkling from your spot on your berth. 

One of your stabilizers was crossed over the other, your servos snuggly behind your helm. Due to your horizontal position, you were seeing Vaportrail in a somewhat awkward manner, whispering something to her carrier excitedly, which made you turn your whole frame so you were resting against your side, lifting your helm with your right servo.

"What is it, V?"

Vaportrail, who had her mother's laughing optics, stood proudly atop Starlight's berth beside her laying figure, servos on her hips and grin on her dermas, meekly waiting for you to look at her so she could show her spectacular stunt.

She was no bigger than a mining pickaxe, which is why she was never let out of Starlight's and your’s shared chamber. She was still tiny, even for a youngling her age, but that was not unusual, as the impoverished environment and the mediocre energon didn't do much to help anyway. Primus knows what could happen to someone so small and so weak.

Her confident, puffed-up stand made you laugh casually, as while typically Vaportrail was a modest sparkling, never one to demand attention or directly ask for what she wanted, whenever she got like this and let out her inner childishness for the silliest of things, both you and Starlight would get tons of laughter out of it.

"Go on! Show Y/N what you've been practicing," Starlight encouraged.

When you nodded at Vaportrail, signaling that your attention was entirely on her, her optics lit up. She walked towards the end of her carrier's berth, planting her peds at the very ends before turning around. 

Vaportrail crouched, and with a slight push from her servos and an impulse from her peds, she successfully rolled forward in the berth, landing on her bottom before scrambling to get up and putting her servos up in the air, muttering a small 'Ta-da!'

You had smiled warmly, watching Vaportrail giggle to herself giddily. Starlight clapped for her and swarmed her in a big hug, proud of her sparkling and happy that she had gotten her little trick right. Honestly, you were a bit jealous. You wished you could be this happy by doing something as simple as a gymnastic maneuver.

Vaportrail cheered along with her carrier, excitedly thumping her peds against the surface of the berth. Then she turned to look at you, her optics gleaming with happiness. "I did it! I did a forward roll!"

"Oh, did you?" After your rhetorical question, you languidly returned to your original position, lying with your back plates on the berth and your servos behind your helm. You cheekily turned to Vaportrail and Starlight, a sly, good-natured smile pulling at your dermas; you closed your optics. "I wasn't looking."

"Y/N!"

Both femmes happily laughed at the moping undertones of Vaportrail's voice.

"Just kidding!"

That day was a long time ago, at least it seemed to be; it felt like it. Those words were spoken in the same chamber you slept and resided in. That comical stunt was performed in the berth across from yours. They were not here anymore. Even if you wished they were back together, that deceitful dream would only be achieved by death.

No one can pursue their dreams or be free enough without it. Freedom is for the rich because dreaming costs money.

Starlight wasn't there to hold her youngling and hug you when you needed it. You weren't hearing her voice either, singing lullabies to help you both fall into a much-needed recharge. Her presence was so needed, so sought; in places like this, femmes like her were what one needed to forget about the harsh burden that was the act of being alive. To think that only forty-eight groons before she was still living, she was still here. 

Her memory made you miserable because best friends comprehend you like no other. Starlight was overly protective and brutally honest—as if she ever needed that. You felt so enraged and resentful at not being there to protect her that you feared you might break. 

Although you dug Starlight's grave, blatantly refusing to let the body of your best friend turn into waste parts or scrap metal, a part of you still suppressed the image. One day, you would properly weep for her, but first, you had to accept that she was truly gone. A part of you would never be able to accept that Starlight would never appear, skipping around a corner to tease you for falling for her clever joke.

‘How can she be dead?’

Harsh knocks against your metal door made you jerk from your position on the berth.

"08, are you in there?!" 

The boisterous tone of the mech standing behind your door made you remember that you were still real and breathing inside your crude, undeserving, unworthy existence. Your bubble-turned crystal cocoon inevitably started collapsing at the reminder that life could still go on without Starlight because, after all, no cybertronian knew who Starlight is—was. No cybertronian knew who Starlight was. The world moved on without her.

Without thinking much, you got up from the cold berth, chills flourishing in your metallurgic skin before walking the small distance towards the oxidized door and swinging it open. You would not have considered the thought of opening (being too engrossed in your self-pity and wallowing in grief, you know?) in the first place was it not for the genuine undertones of chipper motivation that were painted over H–01's usually harsh, asperous voice. 

Wait, why was he at your door anyway?

His hulking, rusted frame was as corroded as ever, and it was honestly a little sickening to look at. Despite the awful veil of dust and ash that littered him, the grayish, crimson, and dull turquoise glares of his deteriorated paint job could still be peeked at; his wheels were decaying, and his melancholic optics had lost their love for life— as had everybot else's.

Ancient as a cosmic star and twice as intelligent, with his towering structure and terse personality, H–01 was by far one of the town's most elderly seniors—and, may you add, one of the most cordial. 

You remembered the day you first arrived here, back when you were still an inexperienced femme in life, gullible, back when you dreamed dreams. 

After an accident in your old work establishment,—one of the mech coworkers had stepped over the line with you, resulting in a mining pickaxe protruding from his knee plate and a lot of energon spilled around— you had been sent to Mining Outpost R–02, and H–01 quickly took it upon himself to become a mentor of some sort as you shared letter unit. 

You recalled that he laughed as he had never before when you told him the story of why they had banned you from your previous workplace. Later, you met Starli—

"08?"

You blinked owlishly, and realizing that he was calling out to you, you grounded yourself and met his preoccupied gaze.

"What did you need?"

He frowned at your mediocre attempt at lying. H–01 was by no means stupid, and sadly, you didn’t give enough credit and didn't acknowledge how easily he could pick apart your facade, layer by layer, until your shell was utterly ripped apart.

"Kid, I may be rusty, but I'm shrewd enough to know that you're not well." You became conscious of how absurd you must have seemed in his words. He continued. "I'm sorry about your friend and her sparkling."

There it was again, that funny feeling, that blow to the back of your head. You felt your spark wail painfully, and your limbs tensed up, your optics frantically searching into H–01's face plates for any sign of mockery. You found none. You almost crumbled at his sincere words until your response was unwillingly driven back to your tanks when the piercing siren started blasting across the halls of the chambers.

Instinctively, you covered your audio receptors at the discomfort. At the same time, H–01 merely stared into the speaker device right up against the wall, a bit far away from them. From the corner of his optics, he saw many of the workers exiting their chambers, each of them confused, some of them covering their audial receptors as well, and others staring, irritated and visibly vexed at the gadget that was currently stripping them of their much-needed recharging hours.

The workers of the 8th unit, otherwise known as the H unit, approached the oldest mech from their division, questioning themselves about what was going on. Their optics wilted, and there was a slight lolling to their helms, drunk with weariness after a session of an endless cycle of mining.

"01, what's going on?" One of them asked rather loudly, trying to shout over the siren, coming up to them just as you got used to the loud siren and pulled your servos away from your audial receptors. 

You moved out of the entrance of your chamber to shut the door behind you, joining H–01 by standing beside him. They shared a brief glance, one filled with puzzlement, the other brimming with uncertainty. But before anyone could share their answer or even make a single move, the horrendous blaring of the alarm stopped. 

The speaker against the wall went completely silent, and a single red light started beeping. The Cybertronians looked at each other, baffled.

Someone talked via the speaker.

:: Attention, all workers. You are summoned to the patio at this instant. Once you reach the area, stand in your respective branch line and don't question your current predicament; ignoring this order will result in immediate offlining. I repeat: ignoring this order will result in immediate offlining ::

I need to leave. I need to leave. I need to leave. I need to leave.

That was what you were thinking when you, H–01, and the others walked among the congregation of cybertronians—you would have said mechs were it not for the few femme 'nurses' among the outer lines of the crowds, who as far as you were concerned, were the ones who took care of the workers who suffered minor accidents like infected optics, fractured limbs or something along those lines. 

It was not like they counted anyway. Primus knew what they were actually in this town for and what they did to survive.

The patio, used for Cybertronians during their spare time, was circular, wide of range, and littered with damaged devices and compartment containers, a whole mess of passed-down gear and materials. 

Whenever they got their energon rations and stopped here to rest, H–01 would remark that only the fuel granted to them wasn't recycled—well, that and the smoke. The patio boulders formed a patchwork, with stones obtained as useless scraps and waste from renovations resting together as lovely as crystalline statues from the High-caste buildings. It had artistry to it, as well as smoothness. You and H–01 used to sit there together.

You saw the executives of Mining Outpost R–02, violently shove some of the workers towards their specific department, yelling something at them that you couldn't quite catch. Considering the calm and easy-going attitude of the mistreated miners, you could just tell that they were the prissy, fastidious mechs of the upper divisions, maybe the 1st or the 2nd, where they didn't get punished for slacking off or harassing other workers along with the bosses just for the fun of it.

Your unit quickly got on its respective branches and neatly stood in line. You all exchanged terse nods, mentally preparing yourselves for whatever was about to happen. 

In front of you and the rest of your division were the mechs of the 7th unit, and behind them were the workers of the 9th, and so on. Judging by the others' facial expressions, they, too had no idea of why they'd been called here nor could muster up a word, which only fueled your desire to learn what was going on. The patio got tighter, more claustrophobic as cybertronians arrived.

You were the last number in your unit, meaning that you were placed in the furthest spot from your old friend. You lightly reclined your helm backward to attempt and catch a glimpse of H–01, but to no success, as you saw him and all the other mechs, for that matter, focused on the temporary stage ahead of them. 

It held a podium, a small staircase, and fifteen glass balls with electronic chips on them. One for each unit of the Mining Outpost. A chill went down your spinal plate at the thought.

An overwhelming, ominous silence suddenly governed the patio when a mech no one working here had ever seen before climbed up the staircase. The way he moved caused cybertronians to stare at him in fear. 

The mech was brawny and towering, and the way his helm fell over his lifeless, devoid optics and left shadows smeared on his cheek plates made others shudder. He was directly in front of the plain, pitiful microphone stand. However, an almost charming smile crossed his dermas.

"I suppose you're asking yourselves why were you brought in here."

Because of the microphone, his voice, profound and with a baritone tone, boomed across the patio, making you wince lightly at its loudness. You, of course, were desensitized from loud noises due to the continuous straining sounds of the mining machines around you day after day, as everyone else was. However, his statement caused many cybertronians to look among themselves, clearly disturbed.

"Gentlemechs, my name is Bullway, and I've come all the way here from Kaon to offer you a choice. I intend to give fifteen of you the chance of coming to Kaon with me and becoming gladiators."

Hushed whispers and inaudible sentences started falling from everyone's dermas at Bullway's words and what they implied. From the corner of your optics, you saw most of the mechs look at each other in mute amazement at what they had just been offered.

Their superiors, who were at the base of the set-up podium, quickly took it upon themselves to silence everyone with a loud yell, the absence of sound appearing once again.

"Think about it! Money, power, glory, fame, all laid at your digitprints!" Bullway threw his arms out to emphasize his words. "Join me, and all you have ever dreamed of will come true. A life of nothing but recognition! Isn't that what you deserve?! Isn't that what you dream of as you stare at the ceilings of your measly stations?!"

Dreaming cost money. Dreaming cost money. Dreaming cost money.

Almost as if he had read your mind, H–01 subtly leaned his helm forward to take a peek at the workers of the section he conducted. Most of them remained stoic, and he was very glad to see that, but what worried him the most right now was H–08.

His facial plates morphed into that of slight disturbance because as he peered into your face, he clearly saw what could only be described as contemplation, doubt, and consideration, which both bothered and worried him.

Bullway smiled at how he had you under a forged delusion and continued his speech, "See the crystal globes here? There's one for each unit of your Mining Outpost. They all contain chips with your respective electronic signatures. Each vorn you have worked here, your signature will be entered an additional time. You can figure out the rest, so let us begin!"

Each vorn?

You suddenly realized that the globes were not in order because, in the same minute that you let the circumstances sink in, Bullway had already slipped a servo inside one of the spheres and grabbed one chip from it, reading it aloud so everyone could hear the letter and number clearly.

"G–10!"

All of the divisions started looking among each other, searching for the (not) lucky mech, a pregnant silence following suit as the group in front of them all glared sympathetically at the chosen one, who stood frozen in place, optics blinking several times, wishing to Primus that Bullway had read the designation incorrectly and it wasn't him who was just chosen.

You felt a shiver run down your spinal plate when one of the guards roughly seized his shoulder and made him start walking toward the platform, ignoring the mech's begging and lightly dragging him across the patio as everyone stared in horror. Your intake suddenly went dry when Bullway moved to the next globe, grabbed an electronic chip, moved to the microphone again, and read it aloud.

This time it was from the upper divisions, A–07, you heard.

Just like that, another mech was whisked away from his branch line and thrown across the patio. He then ascended the flight of stairs to stand beside G–10, who apparently was still encapsulated in deep denial, continuously shaking his helm in disbelief. It was tenaciously obvious that Bullway did not concern himself with their worries and imminent fear as he once again moved toward a globe and grabbed another.

You wished cybertronians would step outside their own frames and oversee from the outside what was actually happening at that very instant in Nuna 5PY. Plucked from their workstations like flowers in a garden, sent off to Kaon for the purpose of entertainment for the Upper class with the bombastic excuse of 'MONEY POWER GLORY' behind it.

Prisoners inside their own bodies, trapped to fend off for themselves on a planet where no one cared about them.

Electronic signatures continued rolling off the mech's glossa like energon from a wishing well. The mechs that were chosen always did the exact same thing. They stood completely aghast for a few nanokliks, staring at the soot-stained ground in front of them in absolute shock, their frames deflating like rubber balloons, dermas parting in awe at themselves because they just couldn’t believe it.

F–03.

I–11.

D–04.

E–07.

K–15.

O–02.

When they got prodded by one of the guards, they stared at them, silently begging for compassion, but they found none. Eventually, they were pulled out of their place and shoved towards the staircase on the stage, where Bullway gleefully welcomed all the newcomer 'gladiators' just to grab another electronic chip and call out yet another designation, and so repeating the cycle.

C–01.

M–06.

B–09.

L–01.

J–02.

N–14.

Oh, there was still a globe left. The H unit.

The crowd drew in a collective breath, and then you could hear a pin drop. You were feeling nauseous, your servos clammy, your whole frame tense, your processor hurt, and your spark ached. You longed to see Starlight, you wanted to chase after the train where you sent Vaportrail off to Cyberpolis, and you didn’t know how much H–01 was desperately hoping that it wasn’t you, that it wasn’t you, that it wasn’t you.

"And the last one! H–08!"

[lets-try-some-writing]

It’s all fun and games until one of the kids actually gets sick (just a cold or the flu, nothing too crazy) and the bots have to learn about the joys of human illnesses

Hazmat suit time.

Illness on Cybertron generally tends to be pretty quiet. Its often software issues or does not present itself outwardly unless its serious. Their version of a common cold is a software issue that can cause a mech to overheat if they aren't paying attention. Things such as the flu would present as cognitive impairment or an inability to transform. In short, a good number of Cybertron's ailments do not appear on the frame unless one is really looking.

The only illnesses that appear in such a drastic manner are the lethal ones.

As such, when the kids came in with colds, or in Jack's case, the flu- well, the team did not handle it well. They couldn't be sure it wasn't able to transfer across species, and not to mention, their contaminated fluids could damage other humans or equipment. Seeing the children's state quickly got Ratchet to pull out his emergency quarantine equipment.

Ratchet, Arcee, and Bumblebee got themselves dressed helm to pede in hazmat suites, fitted with masks and everything. The bigger mechs in the room where fitted with tarps held in place with rope. Their faces were covered similarly, leaving only their optics visible. Terrifying? Perhaps. But required? Absolute according to Ratchet.

The children were examined as much as possible and Ratchet promptly separated the three from one another. Miko was put into her own pen filled with blankets, food, and water. Bulkhead was set to watch her and let Ratchet know if her temperature shifted too much. Rafael and Jack were treated the same and put in separate units with their guardians watching over them. Optimus served as a constant watchdog and went from unit to unit to assess the children personally and reassure them. Ratchet meanwhile kept constant tabs on their states as he frantically tried to call June and Fowler.

The children did try to tell the team that they were fine, but at most they got pitying looks and assurances that they were going to be fine. The team genuinely feared the kids could die, but none said a word as they worked in silence. When June and Fowler arrived, both were given gas masks and gloves. Only then were they carefully allowed to see the children from a distance. The team weren't taking chances.

Only after Ratchet explained the symptoms did June go from worried to amused. The whole team got to stand around feeling dumb as June told them that the kids were going to be fine. They just needed to go home and rest. All that effort and looking like penguins had been for nothing. Ratchet will die on the hill that he was right to react so drastically. The team disagree and occasionally mock him for it.

[capr1pengu1n]

be advised, no restitution comes tonight

Summary: Reluctantly agreeing to attend a Halloween party, once Jonathan sees you in your outfit, he can't seem to keep his hands to himself

Warnings: 18+ smut, fem reader (no use of y/n), dom!Jonathan, roleplay, costumes, corruption kink, choking, spanking, fear play(ish), creampie

Words: 2.6k

Notes: Happy halloween! <3 Hope you all have a spooky day! <3

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

With a sigh, Jonathan adjusts the cloak that wraps around his dark ensemble, looking in the mirror with a critical eye. Halloween has always been his favourite holiday, and why wouldn't it be? The night where everyone in Gotham is after a thrill, a scare. And he'd be there to give it to them, pumping his fear gas into whatever nightclub room or cinema screening he fancied, watching on in glee as people screamed and sobbed at the intensity of their nightmarish visions. He'd laugh to himself, analysing their facial expressions, estimating their heart rate, placing small bets as to which person would crack first.

Ideally that's what he'd be doing now, but as he adjusted the ridiculous costume you'd made him wear, he had to place those thoughts away. Being invited to a party was not his idea of a good time, but he knew the optics, he knew he had to show his face, if only for an hour or two before he could slip away and start his own night of fun. And if some liquidized fear toxin just happened to make it's way into whatever stupidly expensive liquor Nygma would be sure to be drinking, then he supposes he'll just have to enjoy the show.

"Y'done yet?" He calls out to you, eyeing the bedroom door with slight annoyance. The sooner you both leave, the sooner he can get this whole socialisation over with. Muttering to himself, he checks his watch before the telltale creak of the door opening makes his eyes dart up.

You'd told him your idea of a couples costume, and he'd scoffed at first. It was only when you promised to watch some obscure french horror film with him that he finally relented and allowed you to order the costume in his measurements. But now he realises it was worth it, if only to see you looking so...delectable.

You grin as you walk up to him, long white dress trailing with each step. He watches your eyes go to the mask, and the slight blush that forms on your cheek as you take him in.

While he'd read the novel, he had never seen the film or stage adaptation of the Phantom of the Opera, only familiar with the mask that now adorns his sharp features. So he hadn't known what to expect when you said you were dressing as Christine. Immediately his hands go to trace the lace sleeves of the dress, bony digits caressing the pattern downwards.

"Jon...you look amazing." you say with a smile, the white mask coupled with the dark suit and cloak really making him appear more villainous. His stature means he looms over you as you speak, and the faintest trace of a smirk becomes etched on his face as he realises the effect he's having.

Not that his trousers hadn't gotten more tight the second he'd seen you, the picture of innocence in virginal white, your hair up and adorned with little gems. To tease you, he grabs your wrist and holds it up, pulling you closer and not letting you pull away.

"Don't you look like a little angel." he taunts, eyes dragging up and down you once again, settling on your cleavage shamelessly. Your breathing increases, slightly intentional on your part to make your chest rise and fall in an obvious way.

"Do I?" you ask, slightly coquettishly as you smile up at him. In return, the grip on your wrist tightens a little.

"You do darlin'...so innocent and corruptible."

At his words, you flush slightly as he bends down to run his nose gently along the side of your neck. The gesture makes your lips part, tilting your head and baring yourself to him as a sign of implicit submission. And he likes that.

"The Phantom wants the girl, doesn't he?" he asks, his voice slightly rougher as you nod in confirmation. "Can see why, but does she want him?"

"In the film she does...she's drawn to his mystery I think."

He hums in response, leaning down but stopping just before his lips graze your skin, content to watch the slight shiver the action elicits from you. "And what about you?"

"If it's you, then I'd follow you anywhere. Even in the depths of your lair beneath an opera house." you say breathlessly with a soft laugh, attempting to make light of the situation to save yourself the embarrassment of admitting just how turned on you've became by Jonathan doing barely anything.

He finally lets go of your wrist, but not before pushing you so your back hits the hallway wall. This time when he leans down, he does leave a soft kiss right on your pulse point, and the soft whimper that escapes your throat makes him grin.

"Jonathan...we have to go, we don't want to be late." You say, attempting to have some control over yourself. But he doesn't let you move, still crowding you against the wall.

"I have to get in character, don't I?" he teases, and you could curse his southern drawl for sounding too attractive in this moment as his breath tickles your ear. "I'm a very...passionate man after all, am I not? One that is hopelessly in love with the beautiful young opera singer."

His tone is almost mocking, but it doesn't stop you from biting your lip as his chest nearly presses against yours. Teeth gently graze your earlobe before he continues. "And my beautiful prey has stumbled into my lair so willingly, in such a temptin' outfit."

He punctuates his words by running his hands up your sides, thinking the fabric is too soft, too delicate for a man like him to be touching. But that is precisely what's turning him on, as he holds you in place. "Perhaps I should demonstrate to her the depths of my desires...show her what she's missin' out on in her pristine life."

His words act like a sharp knife, cutting through your worry of being punctual as he can observe your shoulders relaxing. To seal the deal, he brings his mouth to the side of your neck and bites down, leaving a mark. "So I can taint her."

With a shaky sigh, you nod, giving him the permission he was waiting for. His hands reach up to cup your tits, feeling the top of them roughly beneath his callous fingers. You arch your back a little, enjoying the touch despite the slight discomfort.

"Tell me my dear...are you scared of me?" he mutters, his voice taking on a dark edge as he gets into character, well, his version at least.

"Y-Yes." you say softly, playing up the innocent victim angle, just like you know he likes.

"You should be...these hands have ended the lives of many men who cross me, of men who think they can have you."

Despite the make believe aspect, your breath still catches and your hips still buck at his words, heat blossoming between your legs. Of course he catches this, moving his hands down to feel your hips, head dipping to kiss down your neck to your collarbones.

"And yet you come to me so willingly, such eager prey."

At his words, he traces his teeth down, not quite breaking the skin but giving you the threat that he could. You let out a deliciously desperate noise, almost tempted to beg but deciding against it. Jonathan always liked the thrill of the chase, of wearing you down and frightening you into submission. And you loved to give him that.

"What are you going to do to me?" you ask, proud of yourself for how convincing you made your apprehension sound.

"Oh angel..." he croons, pulling away to look at you, grasping your jaw for good measure. "Whatever I please."

At his words, he grips your wrist once more before pulling you into the bedroom. You stumble to match his pace as he takes a moment to look at you once more. It's almost clinical, the way he stares at you.

"I wonder what you'll look like beneath me." he says aloud, starting to circle you, relishing in the embarrassment that seems to radiate from you. You fight to keep still, fiddling with your sleeve before he settles behind you.

His hands go to the back of your dress, where you’d nearly cracked your back attempting to tie a cute little bow. Feeling the dress loosen, you know he’s undone it, before he reaches around to grip at your throat, pulling your back roughly against his chest. He doesn't move or relax his grip, simply humming and pressing his mouth to your jawline.

"You're tremblin' like a leaf." he says in a self-satisfied manner. "Maybe I should show y'the things I can make you feel."

Pressing his fingers in a little, the sensation of him choking you has a soft mewl escape your lips, eyelids fluttering shut. Your life is in his hands, both in the roleplay and in reality, and it causes your thighs to press together firmly.

"The pleasure that comes from fear, the endorphins your body releases when you’re unsure if you should run or submit.”

He hisses the last word into your ear, before bending you over the bed. You yelp softly, bracing your fall on your elbows as he quickly pushes the long white skirt up. As more of your skin is revealed, he lets out a guttural noise as he sees the matching white stockings and garter belts you’d put on underneath.

“Such a fuckin’ sight.” He says, snapping the elastic of the stocking against your skin to make you jump.

His constantly cold hands trace up to your panties, feeling the wet material beneath his fingertip. Smirking, he circles it methodically, your clit receiving a dull stimulation.

“Please…” you beg him softly, trying to grind down on his digit.

He wants nothing more than to drag this out, to make you beg and scream for him before he finally takes you. But he knows time is fleeting, and you both need to make an appearance soon. So he quickly pulls down your underwear, so they stay around your knees, before pushing a finger inside your sloppy sounding cunt.

“So wet…I knew you were secretly a dirty angel. Practically soaking through your nice underwear. All f’me.”

At his words he pushes a second one inside, stretching you out as he fucks you with a suprisingly gentle rhythm. Your thighs shake a little, and images of you screaming and writhing with his fear toxin in your system flash across his mind.

Pushing back against him, the rhythm of your hips moving forces him out of his daydream, and he deems you stretched enough to pull his fingers out, wiping them on your ass.

He fiddles with the zipper of his costume, before he gets an idea. Grabbing you, he forces you around the bed, so you’re still bent over, but are now facing the mirror you'd used earlier to admire yourself in your dress.

You gasp softly in embarrassment as you realise what he wants, but your eyes can’t tear themselves away from his face, how gorgeous the mask looks settled on his striking features. So captivated, you miss that he’s taken his cock out until he taps it against your asscheek, before pushing it against your soaked folds.

“Do you want me? Beg. Beg me to debase you, to corrupt you.”

“Please…” you say, needing him desperately as he grinds his cock along your cunt, never quite breaching. Holding his gaze in the mirror, you reiterate. “Please corrupt me.”

He grins, before pushing in, and your mouth parts into a slight 'o' shape as you’re filled. The ever so slight burning stretch only adds to the sensation, your hands gripping the sheets as he settles inside you as deep as he physically can get himself.

“Good…” he gets out through gritted teeth.

At your airy moan, he starts his even pace. The slick sound of skin meeting skin fills the room, and you have to look down to avoid the image of your own desperation in the mirror. A hand grabs at your hair and pulls, disrupting your carefully placed hairstyle.

“Look at yourself, watch as the monster everyone fears takes what he wants.”

You moan louder, watching your own expression in the reflection as you’re fucked. Luckily he doesn’t seem to mind when your gaze travels upwards, watching his facial expressions. His jaw set in a tight line, he looks at you with an almost sadistic expression. Like he unashamedly wants to break you.

His hand grabs at your hip, feeling the material beneath his grasp as he bunches it. With each thrust, the dress ripples and moves, and he looks up to see your breasts bouncing with each snap of his hips.

“How depraved you’re become, moanin' like a paid harlot on the Paris streets.” He groans, and you’d admire his dedication to the roleplay if your brains weren’t leaking out of your ears. “Such wanton desperation from a girl as delectable as you.”

You whine at his praise, unable to hold yourself up anymore so you let yourself fall into the pillows. The image causes Jonathan to speed up his thrusts, gripping one of your hands and moving it in a demand for you to self pleasure. Not needing to be told twice, you start to circle your clit, moaning out at the sensation.

“Good girl…need you to cum around me, show me how lustful and immodest I’ve made you.”

You nod, feeling the pleasure build and build. A sharp slap to the ass makes you jump, writhing in place. Sure that you’re makeup is most likely a mess now, you drag your cheek across the sheets to get a better look at the mirror, more specifically at your lover.

The fact he hadn’t taken the costume off makes it even better, his cloak moving with every thrust. You’re a little surprised his mask has stayed on, but you thank whatever sex deity allowed it to remain in place for the image it gives you. This’ll be masturbation fodder for a good while, you’re sure of it.

“Gonna cum…” you manage to get out after a while longer, his cock thrusting into your g spot with cruel precision now. He growls behind you, slapping your ass again just to be cruel.

However the stinging pain tips you over the edge as you cum with a soft cry, clenching around him. You keep rubbing your clit, prolonging the pleasure for as long as possible. Hands falling back to the sheets, you feel Jonathan slightly reposition you, before he starts thrusting harder.

Clearly chasing his own release, he grips both of your hips and rams into you, and his breathing patterns lets you know it won’t be long. So you keep letting out pathetic sounding gasps and whines, arching your back for him. He groans, feeling his balls tighten.

“I’m gonna fill you up, make you keep my cum all throughout the stupid party.” He manages to get out, before he’s spilling inside of you. After a few more shallow thrusts, he stills, basking in the feeling of your walls wrapped around him.

Eventually he pulls out, quickly yanking your panties up snugly so his cum can’t leak out all the way. You whimper at the sensation, cold and uncomfortable, but at the same time so...right.

“There…nice and snug.” He condescends, patting your ass before pulling your dress back down. Helping you up, he turns you around and holds your cheek, looking down at you. “Was I convincing?”

You nod dumbly, still frazzled even as Jonathan looks at his watch. “Good, if we leave now we can still make it in time to see Nygma relive his childhood years after toasting his glass.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[system-architect]

HOUGH #5 and #7 from your complex inquest character asks for your Inquisitor Tozza!!

x @scourgeblooms

:D :D :D

5. How is their relationship with the concept of violence? Do they view it as a necessary evil, avoid inflicting it where possible, or even enjoy it?

HAHA TOZA IS ACTUALLY KIND OF the character i had in mind while making this question!!

toza is a strange strange beast.... she had a ROUGH, rough life prior to her adoptive father picking her up. she's always been a bit unstable and quick to pick fights as a result, as a sort of defense mechanism. i would say she's very much been altered by all of her traumas and history.

this is relevant because wrt her capacity for inflicting violence, she views this as an innate trait of herself that is as unchangeable and inborn as something like her ear shape or hair color. she feels that all people are generally divided into two groups, one being people who can sort of live a normal above-board life and enjoy society and living as regular people, and the other is people who have one or both feet in the sort of 'underworld' of society and simply Do things like this as part of that life. she feels its as natural and inevitable as if she were some sort of predatory species like a jaguar. im realizing as i type this that she would fit extremely well into the yakuza games setting.. awesome i guess.

in terms of enjoyment, etc... this fluctuates! generally she's pretty neutral, it's a sort of 'necessary evil'. it rolls off her brain like water. she enjoys the feeling of completing a job with aplomb, though, and is prone to.. enjoyment.. if her target is really giving her a sort of cat-and-mouse chase. she likes feeling like she Did Things Good.. she's like a fucked up trained military dog idk

7. "Fun" one: What's their uniform like? Is it a generic-issued uniform, or custom tailored? Are there any features built into it that assist with their job?

custom tailored all the way! i need to make refsheets of all this, but toza has experimental cybernetic augments in her muscles and eyes, and her uniform is tailored around this. there's some 'ports' in her muscle augs that need to poke out or be given wiggle room, and the fine-tuning of her strength boosters are controlled via a sort of subdermal keypad implanted in her chest, and so her chestpiece is sort of wired into this so she can control it without sacrificing defense

her helm is also fully covering and has a sort of gas mask filter attached to it (being an inquisitor is risky business ok.. so many ppl might throw chemicals or fire at u... and not to mention the constant bloodborne pathogen risks !!), and it can integrate with her optical augments (which allow her to have night and thermal vision). most importantly it looks scary.

[cyberpsychotic-purgatory]

Baited at N I D

Music: Drained - Rhys Fulber

Arriving at the CHOO2 station that he'd sent Optic. He was already there, leaning against his motorcycle. After running over a few minor details, they head to the presumed location of where Raymond was supposed to be holed up. A motel, go figure… A few goons hangin around the parking lot, eyeballing the obvious outsiders. A couple tap others on the arm to get their attention. Jack can feel the eyes on him, 5 maybe 6 pairs boring holes into skull.

"May as well go ahead and make it 50 now"

Jack can't help but let out a chuckle.  "we'll see"

"What are you, broke?"

Walking up to the door, Jack rings the intercom.

A distorted voice plays over the intercom. "The fuck you want"

Jack Rolls Human Perception - Crit fail with a 4 after stats.   He doesn't notice that the voice is synthetic.

"Here to talk to Raymond."

"Here to talk to Raymond" The voice mocks back.  "OBVIOUSLY YOU FUCK! THE FUCK YOU WANT?!"

The voice over the intercom is agitated and aggressive. Jack Rolls Resist (19). He maintains his composure. 

"Can't exactly say it out in the open. How about you let me in and we talk about it in private. Unless you want all your chooms to know about all this money you're about to make?"

Jack rolls persuasion (18) vs Ray's Crit success (23)

"How about you go fuck yourself sideways and have your friend scroll it for me huh?"

"Not into watchin" Optic says. 

Optic rolls Cool (18) vs Ray's (17)

"Hah! Funny. Listen funny guy can fuck off outside but you come in."

Jack looks at Optic to see how he feels about it.

Optic shrugs, "I'll be alright."

Optic walks over to a nearby Vend-It and gets a Nicola. The door slides open. A cold breeze is felt blowing out from the door. Visibility is low, it's too bright outside.

Jack opens an active line with Optic. "You read me?"

"Yea you're good."

Stepping into the dark room, sparsely illuminated by red lighting, A man is sitting in a chair at the other side of the room. The room is cold. Really cold. Taking a moment for his eyes to adjust, he sees a few Net towers in the corner of the room. Fog from the liquid nitrogen cooling pours out onto the floor, rolling across the carpet like tendrils of death creeping their way towards him….

"You Ray?"

"You Jack?"

He knows my name?

Suddenly his call drops. No signal.

"Your silence is all I needed."

Jack activates his red lighting on his mask and takes an aggressive posture. His Nightmare fuel primed in a gas grenade.

"Fuck that meatbag, you can't scare me�� (He steps out into the light. A Maelstrom member with a gasmask appears, his Glowing Red eyes activating, all 5 of them, as he raises his hand to show a syringe. "How good is your immunity?"

Jack rolls Reflex (19) He quickly reaches for his gun

"Too slow"

Suddenly, Jack's body seizes up, his vision turns into glitchy distorted non-sense as his Kiroshi's are hacked.

An Alert on his internal system warn him of a Deamon upload cracking through his ICE like a hot knife through butter.  The last thing he sees is the man Maelstromer walking up to him, laughing in a synthetic grotesque voice as Gunfire can be heard outside, and the syringe being lowered towards him before the Deamon knocks him out entirely.

[creepywrites]

Diseases, disorders and disabilities

Jeff the Killer- depression, PTSD, Leukaemia, sadism, ADD, bipolar disorder

Liu- severe depression, c-PTSD,

Ben- anxiety, severe depression, autism,

Sally Dawn- PTSD, anxiety, severe depression, selective mutism

Sam Williams- c-PTSD, severe depression

Milo the Electrocuted- bipolar disorder, PTSD, sadism, ASPD

Lulu- c-PTSD, anxiety, Heterochromia

Clockwork- c-PTSD, bipolar disorder, anxiety

Zero- ADHD, schizophrenia, c-PTSD, bipolar disorder, amnesia

Jane the killer- depression, PTSD, bipolar disorder

Jane Arkensaw- depression, PTSD, schizophrenia, anxiety, DID

Vailly Evans- social anxiety, PTSD, Piebaldism, severe depression,

Nathan the nobody- schizophrenia, c-PTSD, severe depression, ASPD

Crystal the Hidden- severe depression, c-PTSD, selective mutism

Eyeless Jack- PTSD, depression

Kate the chaser- c-PTSD, severe depression, chronic obstructive pulmonary disease

Rouge- schizophrenia, c-PTSD, sadism

Wilson the basher- sadism, PTSD

X-virus- PTSD, ADHD, ASPD, depression

Lazari- severe depression, anxiety, c-PTSD

Kaidy- c-PTSD, anxiety, severe depression

Rasika- PTSD, depression

Nina the killer- ADHD, depression, schizophrenia, c-PTSD, BPD

Puppeteer- severe depression, PTSD, bipolar disorder

Zachary- depression, c-PTSD

Emra- c-PTSD, depression, anxiety

Bloody painter- c-PTSD, depression, bipolar disorder, ASPD

Suicide Sadie- anxiety, anorexia, c-PTSD, depression

Roadwalker- PTSD, depression

Judge angel- schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, depression, c-PTSD,

Nurse Ann- sadism, bipolar disorder, PTSD, severe depression

Randy- depression, ADHD, PTSD

Sully- Panic Disorder, depression, c-PTSD, autism, optic nerve hypoplasia

Keith- depression, PTSD, ADHD

Troy- bipolar disorder, depression, dyslexia

Dollmaker- schizophrenia, c-PTSD, depression, ASPD

Svetlana- c-PTSD, panic disorder, severe depression, social anxiety

Vicky genocidal- PTSD, bipolar disorder, survivors guilt, panic disorder, insomnia, depression

Hannah the killer- PTSD, insomnia, narcissism, depression, ASPD

Lily Kennett- PTSD, insomnia, depression, amnesia, bipolar

Hung iris- PTSD, social anxiety, severe depression

Lifeless Lucy- PTSD, sadism, severe depression

Legless Eliza- social anxiety, severe depression, amnesia, c-PTSD

Mucky Child- c-PTSD, severe depression, selective mutism

Lacy Morgan- c-PTSD, severe depression, sadism

Asylum Nancy- ADHD, schizophrenia, sadism, PTSD

Chris the Revenant- schizophrenia, ADHD, ASPD, sadism, c-PTSD

Monday Child- ASPD, PTSD, severe depression

Laughing Jill- PTSD

Laughing Jack- c-PTSD, sadism

Toby- CIPA, Tourette Syndrome, c-PTSD, Amnesia, ADHD, BPD, ASPD, severe Depression, selective mutism

Lurking Lyra- c-PTSD, severe depression, ADHD

Killing Kate- c-PTSD, anxiety, schizophrenia, depression

Lost Silver- c-PTSD, severe depression, anxiety,

Cata the Killer- schizophrenia, depression, bipolar disorder, BPD,

Oliver Henderson- FASD, PTSD, severe depression, amnesia

Rotten Abigail- social anxiety, severe depression, c-PTSD

The Hare- schizophrenia, severe depression, PTSD, Panic Disorder

The Doll- c-PTSD, anorexia, severe depression, amnesia

Raven- c-PTSD, severe depression, Amnesia

Anna Schurks- Amnesia, severe depression, anxiety

Weeping forest- PTSD, severe depression

Nightmare Ally- amnesia, c-PTSD, Schizophrenia, BPD

Red Death- amnesia, c-PTSD, depression

Gas mask maid- c-PTSD, Pneumonia, depression

Tim- c-PTSD, severe depression, anxiety, survivors guilt

Jessica- c-PTSD, severe depression, panic disorder, survivors guilt

Taylor- depression

Ellie- bipolar, BPD, PTSD

Labrador- PTSD, insomnia

Moth boy- Paget's disease of bone, severe depression, social anxiety, PTSD

Starved angel- insomnia, severe depression, Malaria, Hepatitis B, Tetanus, Scabies, albinism, anemic, retinitis pigmentosa

Sketcher- severe depression, PTSD, anxiety, insomnia

Sarah Erickson- PTSD, frostbite, depression

Hannya- depression, bulimia, sadism

Rosie- depression, anxiety, PTSD

Hunter the proxy- depression, mute, deaf

Doctor Irina- depression, c-PTSD

Deborah- severe depression, c-ptsd

Lucy the cannibal- PTSD, depression

Andie Rosslyn- severe depression, PTSD

[bloombird]

Encountering Byrna pt. 2

Part 1

In a blink, Raif grabbed his stick weapon and was ready to shoot her down.

"STOP!" Azure screamed.

Byrna stood still, staring at the weapon that Raif was holding. Then she tilted her helm in amusement. "A slingshot? Wow, how can a kid's toy be-?"

Something dashed by her and it left a hole on the alley wall. Bryna felt something dripping from her cheek. She raised her servo and wiped it off. It's energon. She stared at Raif holding an another pebble, ready to load again.

"Say that again or it'll be your helm next!" Raif bared his denta at her. "I don't know what the hell is going on between you two, but here's one thing.. You stay away from Bullets.."

Byrna's face twisted with contempt. "Who do you think you are? You're just a sad little kid's toy, this conversation isn't for you. You don't know anything about him!"

Raif growled. "Really? Bullets here doesn't want to go back home with you! And you say that you know him?!" He let out a humorless chuckle as his ears twitched. "For a dangerous weapon held by adults, you sure aren't mature-"

Byrna sprinted towards Raif, who barely had the time to aim her. In a blink, she grabbed his head and slammed it down on the concrete. He grunted in pain and his optics watered.

Raif tried swinging his slingshot towards her but she moved aside and twisted his arm. He howled in pain. Byrna aimed her loaded gun arm at him.

"STOP!" Azure yelled and jumps in. He grabs her gun arm just in time for her to fire her weapon. The bullet hit the bricked wall and the bullet exploded with orange gas.

Byrna gasped and she quickly elbowed Azure hard. He hissed in pain. She pulled out some sort of a mask and she wore it.

The smoke descended on them. Azure couldn't breathe. The spicy smoke filled his nose and he gagged. His tears began to form. It hurts.

"P-Pepper.."

Byrna just only stood there and watched him.

Azure can hear Raif beside him coughing and writhing. He grabbed Raif to haul them out of the ever growing smoke engulfing them but his vision swam and seem to sway.

The last thing he hears is Byrna's footsteps and muffled breathing before he blacks out

[emeraldtart]

Can you describe what the Decepticon form looks like for the rest of the team?

>:)

My time has come.

Warning. Spoilers for future chapters.

Prowl/Barricade - Looks like the rest of his other incarnations. Primarily white colour with yellow shades. His altmode is now a police car instead of a police bike.

Bumblebee/Stinger - Red instead of yellow. Green optics and stinger. Constantly wears a mask and talks in binary code because he can't disguise his voice well. Altmode a red sports car.

Ratchet/Flatline - A yellow ambulance instead of a white one. The mask resembles a gas mask.

Bulkhead/Hardhead - Has a green camo colour. Details still pending.

[amberfaber40]

M42/M43, NGC 1976, Orion Nebula

M42/M43, NGC 1976, Orion Nebula

APOD: 2019 December 17 - The Horsehead Nebula

The Orion Nebula

First try with HDR in pixinsight, hope you like it ! -Equipment- Scope: TS-Optics 94/414 EPDH (414mm focal) Camera: ZWO ASI533MC Pro at -25°C gain 101 offset 49 Guiding: ZWO OAG Guiding camera: ZWO ASI 120MM Mount: Skywatcher AZ-EQ6 Filter: Optolong L-eXtreme -Acquisition- Light : 62x300s + 88x120s Total integration time 8h Dark: 100x300s Flat-50 Bias-100 100s120s Date : 30 January 2022 07,26,27 Febuary 2022 Location : France-Alsace Bortle 4/5 -Software- Carte du Ciel, N.I.N.A, Phd2 , PoleMaster and PixInsight Ez Processing Suite from darkarcon darkarcon website : darkarchon.internet-box.ch:8443/ -Pre Processing in PixInsight- Image Calibration Cosmetic Correction Debayer Subframe Selector Star Alignement Local Normalization Image Integration Drizzle x2 Dynamic crop -Processing *HRD* DBE 300s and 120s StarAlignement -> register 300s and 120s HRDComposition -> blend 300s and 120s frame Split L,R,G,B Chanel __L__ Ez_Deconvolution Ez_Soft Streatch HDRMultiscaleTransform StarNet++ for build nebula mask UnsharpedMask with mask LocalHistogramEqualization with mask __RGB__ ChanelCombination(RGB) BackgroundNeutralization PhotometricColorCalibration Ez_Soft Streatch HDRMultiscaleTransform Starnet++ SCNR star mask __LRGB__ LRGBCombination Ez_Denoise StarNet++ Final CurvesTransformation Save as jpg Clear skies !

Orion nebula M42 , SHO Hubble palette from Singapore.

Horsehead Nebula in Orion

The Horsehead Nebula and Flame Nebula. This iconic deep-sky object is a dark nebula in the constellation Orion. Astrophotography tips, facts, and more.

Orion Nebula wallpaper by DLJunkie - Download on ZEDGE™ | 5dcb

Orion

The Orion Nebula (M42/M43, NGC1976/1982) This picture shows the great nebula in the constellation of Orion the Hunter. On a good clear night, from a dark site well away from the lights of modern civilization, this glowing cloud of gas and dust can be seen with the naked eye as a fuzzy patch surrounding the star Theta Orionis in the Hunter's Sword, below Orion's belt. It is probably the most spectacular of all the objects cataloged by Charles Messier and now called by their `M' numbers. M42 had been known since the beginnings of recorded astronomy as a star, but it is so outstanding that it was first noted as an extended nebula in 1610, only a year after Galileo's first use of the telescope. Detailed descriptions started appearing later in the seventeenth century, and it has been a popular target for anyone with a telescope ever since. So many details are visible in even a small telescope that M42 will more than repay the observer who makes it a frequent target, and who will find that it is hard to make a realistic sketch that can capture all of the finer features. So outstanding is this nebula that it has two numbers. M43/NGC1982 is the separated portion to the north-east (top left), surrounding an irregular variable star. Although Messier stopped at only two, other parts of the nebula in this region have received further NGC numbers. M42 is our closest example of an HII region, being composed mainly of ionized hydrogen which gives off the red glow so dominant in every picture of the nebula. Deep photographs such as this one show that it is nearly a degree across, larger than the full Moon (although the Moon is so bright that it looks much larger). The energy to keep the nebula glowing comes from the very hot young stars in a formation called the Trapezium, embedded in the brightest part of the nebula and not visible in this photograph. The nebula and the brighter stars are very young indeed by astronomical standards, at about 30000 years. Compare this to our own Sun, which is considered to be a middle-aged star at over four billion years! M42 probably contains several hundred stars younger than a million years, still bursting with the energy of youth. Stars are still being born in a dense cloud behind the nebula, but they are hidden from our view by a concentration of dust which reduces their light to only a million-millionth of its original intensity. Fortunately, astronomers have developed special cameras and other detectors which are sensitive to infra-red radiation, more popularly known as heat, which penetrates the dust and reveals to us this stellar nursery. Although M42 is mostly hydrogen, in both neutral and ionized states, with a fair quantity of dust, it does contain significant amounts of other elements, especially oxygen. The green glow of doubly-ionized oxygen is strongest near the intense ultraviolet starlight at the middle of the nebula. To the north-east (the upper left in this picture) is a feature called the Dark Bay, which is a thick cloud of neutral gas which has not yet been ionized. Location: 05 hrs 35.4 min, -05 deg. 27 min (2000). Distance: nearly 500 parsecs (1600 light-years). Size: about 66 by 60 arc minutes. Mass: about 300 solar masses. Magnitude: 4.0. Power source: O and B stars. Photograph: Bill Schoening, KPNO 4m telescope, October 1st 1973. Original Ektachrome color transparency.Credit:Bill Schoening/NOIRLab/NSF/AURAUsage of NOIRLab Images and VideosAre you a journalist? Subscribe to the NOIRLab Media Newsletter.Image FormatsFullsize Original20.7 MB Large JPEG1.2 MBScreensize JPEG144.3 KBZoomableZoomableWallpapers1024x768131.3 KB1280x1024203.7 KB1600x1200314.3 KB1920x1200411.5 KB2048x1536568.3 KBCrossfade image:Optical (DSS2)Infrared (2MASS)Crossfade image:

[goatsludge]

Italian Maschera Occhiale O.41

A late birthday gift for the beloved (@bureau-of-mines) Lot of optical masks this month!

[whumpster-fire]

Holy shit this is so cool.

(list of the hazard symbols on all the cards pending an official guide below)

Backs of Cards: two blank NFPA hazard diamonds, rotated so one is right side up whichever way you're holding the card

The Fool: sudden drop into deep water

The Magician: electrical hazard

The High Priestess: oxidizer (chemical that isn't flammable per se but will set other thing on fire)

The Empress: biohazard

The Emperor: radiation hazard, radioactive materials

The Hierophant: flood zone

The Lovers: strong magnetic field

The Chariot: warning that there are forklifts around

Strength: Moving parts that can crush you

The Hermit: asphyxiating atmosphere

Wheel of Fortune: counter-rotating rollers

Justice: corrosive substances

The Hanged Man: overhead or suspended load (that might fall on you)

Death: acute toxicity

Temperance: health hazard

The Devil: active volcano zone

The Tower: unstable cliff overhead

The Star: laser radiation

The Moon: automatically starting equipment

The Sun: optical radiation

Judgement: overhead obstacle

The World: explosive materials

Cups Suite: are almost all related to chemical safety? Ace through 4 are NFPA hazard diamonds for health hazards, the face cards are all advisories of what PPE you should use.

Ace of Cups: material that is not particularly hazardous to be exposed to.

One of Cups: material that causes irritation on exposure.

Two of Cups: material that can cause temporary incapacitation on exposure if you're exposed to a lot of it.

Three of Cups: really dangerous material that can cause serious injury or incapacitation with just a brief exposure.

Four of Cups: extremely dangerous material that can kill or seriously injure you with just a brief exposure.

Page of Cups: wear a lab coat

Knight of Cups: wear a welding mask

Queen of Cups: wear a respirator

King of Cups: wear self contained breathing equipment

Batons Suite: all fire safety related. Ace thru 4 are NFPA hazard diamonds for flammable hazards, face cards show locations of fire safety equipment.

Ace of Batons: not flammable or very difficult to set on fire.

One of Batons: can catch fire if you get it really hot.

Two of Batons: can catch fire pretty easily if heated or exposed to flame.

Three of Batons: easily catches fire at room temperature.

Four of Batons: flammable gases and easily dispersed substances that easily catch fire at any temperature.

Page of Batons: fire alarm button

Knight of Batons: fire ladder

Queen of Batons: fire hose

King of Batons: fire extinguisher

Coins Suite: ace thru 4 are NFPA hazard diamonds for reactive substance, face cards are a mixture of electrical and mechanical hazards.

Ace of Coins: not reactive.

One of Coins: can be unstable at high temperature or pressure.

Two of Coins: can react violently at high temperature or pressure or when exposed to water.

Three of Coins: can explode but it's not that easy to make it explode.

Four of Coins: explodes at the slightest provocation.

Page of Coins: non-ionizing radiation (e.g. microwaves)

Knight of Coins: charging batteries

Queen of Coins: press will crush your hand if you put it in there.

King of Coins: press brake that can make the workpiece swing violently and smack you in the face.

Swords Suite: ace thru 4 are NFPA hazard diamonds for special hazards, face cards are general hazard signs.

Ace of Swords: reacts with water in a dangerous way

One of Swords: asphyxiant gas

Two of Swords: oxidizers again

Three of Swords: cryogenic materials

Four of Swords: corrosive materials

Page of Swords: notice sign (info not hazard related)

Knight of Swords: caution sign (something here might injure you but probably only a minor or moderate injury)

Queen of Swords: warning sign (something here might seriously injure or kill you)

King of Swords: danger sign (something here can and will seriously injure or kill you if you don't follow precautions)

This is a nice sign to look at. 10/10 for composition.

he looks so confident

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

Revealing the hidden universe with full-shell X-ray optics

The study of X-ray emission from astronomical objects reveals secrets about the universe at the largest and smallest spatial scales. Celestial X-rays are produced by black holes consuming nearby stars, emitted by the million-degree gas that traces the structure between galaxies, and can be used to predict whether stars may be able to host planets hospitable to life.

X-ray observations have shown that most of the visible matter in the universe exists as hot gas between galaxies and have conclusively demonstrated that the presence of "dark matter" is needed to explain galaxy cluster dynamics, that dark matter dominates the mass of galaxy clusters, and that it governs the expansion of the cosmos.

X-ray observations also enable us to probe the mysteries of the universe on the smallest scales. X-ray observations of compact objects such as white dwarfs, neutron stars, and black holes allow us to use the universe as a physics laboratory to study conditions that are orders of magnitude more extreme in terms of density, pressure, temperature, and magnetic field strength than anything that can be produced on Earth. In this astrophysical laboratory, researchers expect to reveal new physics at the subatomic scale by conducting investigations such as probing the neutron star equation of state and testing quantum electrodynamics with observations of neutron star atmospheres.

At NASA's Marshall Space Flight Center, a team of scientists and engineers is building, testing, and flying innovative optics that bring the universe's X-ray mysteries into sharper focus.

Unlike optical telescopes that create images by reflecting or refracting light at near-90-degree angles (normal incidence), focusing X-ray optics must be designed to reflect light at very small angles (grazing incidence). At normal incidence, X-rays are either absorbed by the surface of a mirror or penetrate it entirely. However, at grazing angles of incidence, X-rays reflect very efficiently due to an effect called total external reflection. In grazing incidence, X-rays reflect off the surface of a mirror like rocks skipping on the surface of a pond.

A classic design for astronomical grazing incidence optics is the Wolter-I prescription, which consists of two reflecting surfaces, a parabola and a hyperbola. This optical prescription is revolved around the optical axis to produce a full-shell mirror (i.e., the mirror spans the full circumference) that resembles a gently tapered cone. To increase the light collecting area, multiple mirror shells with incrementally larger diameters and a common focus are fabricated and nested concentrically to comprise a mirror module assembly (MMA).

Focusing optics are critical to studying the X-ray universe, because in contrast to other optical systems like collimators or coded masks, they produce high signal-to-noise images with low background noise.

Two key metrics that characterize the performance of X-ray optics are angular resolution, which is the ability of an optical system to discriminate between closely spaced objects, and effective area, which is the light collecting area of the telescope, typically quoted in units of cm2. Angular resolution is typically measured as the half-power diameter (HPD) of a focused spot in units of arcseconds. The HPD encircles half of the incident photons in a focused spot and measures the sharpness of the final image; a smaller number is better.

NASA Marshall Space Flight Center (MSFC) has been building and flying lightweight, full-shell, focusing X-ray optics for over three decades, always meeting or exceeding angular resolution and effective area requirements. MSFC utilizes an electroformed nickel replication (ENR) technique to make these thin full-shell X-ray optics from nickel alloy.

X-ray optics development at MSFC began in the early 1990s with the fabrication of optics to support NASA's Advanced X-ray Astrophysics Facility (AXAF-S) and then continued via the Constellation-X technology development programs. In 2001, MSFC launched a balloon payload that included two modules each with three mirrors, which produced the first focused hard X-ray (>10 keV) images of an astrophysical source by imaging Cygnus X-1, GRS 1915, and the Crab Nebula. This initial effort resulted in several follow-up missions over the next 12 years, and became known as the High Energy Replicated Optics (HERO) balloon program.

In 2012, the first of four sounding rocket flights of the Focusing Optics X-ray Solar Imager (FOXSI) flew with MSFC optics onboard, producing the first focused images of the sun at energies greater than 5 keV. In 2019, the Astronomical Roentgen Telescope X-ray Concentrator (ART-XC) instrument on the Spectr-Roentgen-Gamma Mission, launched with seven MSFC-fabricated X-ray MMAs, each containing 28 mirror shells.

ART-XC is currently mapping the sky in the 4-30 keV hard X-ray energy range, studying exotic objects like neutron stars in our own galaxy as well as active galactic nuclei, which are spread across the visible universe. In 2021, the Imaging X-ray Polarimetry Explorer (IXPE) flew and is now performing extraordinary science with an MSFC-led team using three, 24-shell MMAs that were fabricated and calibrated in-house.

Most recently, in 2024, the fourth FOXSI sounding rocket campaign launched with a high-resolution MSFC MMA. The optics achieved 9.5 arcsecond HPD angular resolution during a pre-flight test with an expected 7 arcsecond HPD in gravity-free flight, making this the highest angular resolution flight observation made with a nickel-replicated X-ray optic.

Currently, MSFC is fabricating an MMA for the Rocket Experiment Demonstration of a Soft X-ray (REDSoX) polarimeter, a sounding rocket mission that will fly a novel soft X-ray polarimeter instrument to observe active galactic nuclei. The REDSoX MMA optic will be 444 mm in diameter, which will make it the largest MMA ever produced by MSFC and the second largest replicated nickel X-ray optic in the world.

The ultimate performance of an X-ray optic is determined by errors in the shape, position, and roughness of the optical surface. To push the performance of X-ray optics toward even higher angular resolution and achieve more ambitious science goals, MSFC is currently engaged in a fundamental research and development effort to improve all aspects of full-shell optics fabrication.

Given that these optics are made with the electroformed nickel replication technique, the fabrication process begins with creation of a replication master, called the mandrel, which is a negative of the desired optical surface. First, the mandrel is figured and polished to specification, then a thin layer of nickel alloy is electroformed onto the mandrel surface. Next, the nickel alloy layer is removed to produce a replicated optical shell, and finally, the thin shell is attached to a stiff holding structure for use.

Each step in this process introduces some degree of error into the final replicated shell. Research and development efforts at MSFC are currently concentrating on reducing distortion induced during the electroforming metal deposition and release steps. Electroforming-induced distortion is caused by material stress built into the electroformed material as it deposits onto the mandrel. Decreasing release-induced distortion is a matter of reducing adhesion strength between the shell and mandrel, increasing strength of the shell material to prevent yielding, and reducing point defects in the release layer.

Additionally, verifying the performance of these advanced optics requires world-class test facilities. The basic premise of testing an optic designed for X-ray astrophysics is to place a small, bright X-ray source far away from the optic. If the angular size of the source as viewed from the optic is smaller than the angular resolution of the optic, the source is effectively simulating X-ray starlight. Due to the absorption of X-rays by air, the entire test facility's light path must be placed inside a vacuum chamber.

At MSFC, a group of scientists and engineers operate the Marshall 100-meter X-ray beamline, a world-class end-to-end test facility for flight and laboratory X-ray optics, instruments, and telescopes. As per the name, it consists of a 100-meter-long vacuum tube with an 8-meter-long, 3-meter-diameter instrument chamber and a variety of X-ray sources ranging from 0.25—114 keV. Across the street sits the X-Ray and Cryogenic Facility (XRCF), a 527-meter-long beamline with an 18-meter-long, 6-meter-diameter instrument chamber. These facilities are available for the scientific community to use and highlight the comprehensive optics development and test capability that Marshall is known for.

Within the X-ray astrophysics community, there exists a variety of angular resolution and effective area needs for focusing optics. Given its storied history in X-ray optics, MSFC is uniquely poised to fulfill requirements for large or small, medium- or high-angular-resolution X-ray optics.

To help guide technology development, the astrophysics community convenes once per decade to produce a decadal survey. The need for high-angular-resolution and high-throughput X-ray optics is strongly endorsed by the National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine report, "Pathways to Discovery in Astronomy and Astrophysics for the 2020s". In pursuit of this goal, MSFC is continuing to advance the state of the art in full-shell optics. This work will enable the extraordinary mysteries of the X-ray universe to be revealed.

TOP IMAGE: A composite X-ray/Optical/Infrared image of the Crab Pulsar. The X-ray image from the Chandra X-ray Observatory (blue and white), reveals exquisite details in the central ring structures and gas flowing out of the polar jets. Optical light from the Hubble Space Telescope (purple) shows foreground and background stars as pinpoints of light. Infrared light from the Spitzer Space Telescope (pink) traces cooler gas in the nebula. Finally, magnetic field direction derived from X-ray polarization observed by the Imaging X-ray Polarimetry Explorer is shown as orange lines. Credit: Magnetic field lines: NASA/Bucciantini et al; X-ray: NASA/CXC/SAO; Optical: NASA/STScI; Infrared: NASA-JPL-Caltech

CENTRE IMAGE: Schematic of a full-shell Wolter-I X-ray optic mirror module assembly with five concentrically nested mirror shells. Parallel rays of light enter from the left, reflect twice off the reflective inside surface of the shell (first off the parabolic segment and then off the hyperbolic segment), and converge at the focal plane. Credit: NASA MSFC

LOWER IMAGE: Scientists Wayne Baumgartner (left, crouched) and Nick Thomas (left, standing) calibrate an IXPE MMA in the MSFC 100 m Beamline. Scientist Stephen Bongiorno (right) applies epoxy to an IXPE shell during MMA assembly. Credit: NASA MSFC

[thenewpathfinder2024-2034]

$ 8125.76 Diamond Bridal Set 3 ct tw Princess/Round 14k White Gold.

$ 3100.00 Dy classic band ring in platinum.

$ 4000.00  Venue depending upon church or location local.

$ 2436.00 photography.

$ 2550.00 for 25.00 per person's catering. (50 people) Cakes, set up and take down.

$ 1500.00 bar, wine, champaign. 

$ 700.00 music dj

$ 500.00 limousine 

$ 3000.00 gown 

$ 750.00 tuxedo 

$ 2500.00 flowers

$ 250.00 gifts bridesmaids 

$ 250.00 gifts groomsmen 

$ 650.00 programs, cards, invitations with registrations qr codes, thank you cards.

$ 750.00 preacher 

$ 600.00 ceremony music 

$ 2000.00 Bachelorette and bachelor party. 

$ 750.00 rehearsal dinner and drinks.

$ 5000.00 1 week all inclusive  Honeymoon to Barbados. 

$ 300.00 Dog boarding

Trips:

$ 8000.00 Overseas- Colombia, Costa Rica, St Croix, St Thomas, St John, Panama, Curacao, Aruba. 

$ 4900.00 USA- Illinois, Arkansas, Alabama,  Florida, Georgia, West Virginia, New Hampshire, Mississippi, South Carolina, Kentucky East Tn.

Vehicles:

$ 7000.00 Red GMC Stepside truck.

$ 25000.00 Silver Jaguar XF Supercharger platinum edition. 

$ 27000.00 Camper.

$ 2700.00 5' finish mower attachment 

Dive gear:

$ 17000.00 Posiden rebreather tech with upgrades to advanced trimix 

$ 3600.00 Pinnacle evolution 2 dry suit, round replaceable waist seals, replaceable neck seals, pee valve, 2 leg pockets, bicept value, thermal suit, catheters. 

$ 1200.00 Helium analyzer 

$ 1867.00 aga full face mask, communication system, and weight control bars.

$ 2500.00 underwater drone 300' tether. 

$ 1700.00 dual motor divers propulsion vehicle 

$ 650.00 carbon fiber long fins

$ 7000.00 new dive training courses.

Business equipment:

$ 350.00 chair

$ 300.00 desk

$ 400.00 shelves stainless 

$ 700.00 printers 

$ 3000 computers

House remodeling:

$ 4000.00 dual air conditioner 

$ 1300.00 computer room 

$ 3000.00 family museum room

$ 600.00 bar

$ 200.00 coffee bar

$ 1200.00 external woodwork on family museum room

$ 3400.00 painting whole house

$ 2000.00 repairs of holes, walls, floor boards,  

$ 1800.00 4 doors replacement 

$ 900.00 replacement fixtures, and hardware. 

$ 3000.00 moving, clean up and decorating. 

$ 1700.00 light replacement and modernized 

$ 1000.00 replacement of ceiling fans

$ 2000.00 camera system to cover all property

$ 5000.00 tankless water heater

$ 1000.00 gas meter replacement 

$ 3000.00 gas lines replacement 

$ 10000 6 person hot tub and gazebo 

$ 6000.00  half moon fire  pit and sitting area 

Watches:

$ 2200.00 Garmin MK2i with transmitter. 

$ 2300.00 Posiden M28 with optical cable and fisher cable.

$ 1520.00 Perdix2 black with transmitter. 

$ 2100.00 Orange seko dive watch.

$ 1600.00 ocean divers watch 1000m

Camera gear: 

$ 1300.00 Gopro10 with aluminum made for 1000ft. 

[attackcopterblog]

GBRS Group Hydra V2 Mount: Revolutionizing Optic Mounting

GBRS Group has announced their next generation of mounts with the new Hydra V2 mount kit. GBRS Group states “HYDRA is the first dual optic mount designed for end-users that offers a 2.91” Optic Centerline for faster target ID, regardless of gear/ equipment obstructions, ie. EarPro/Comms headsets, Gas masks/ CBRN, and Night vision use. A higher Optic allows for a more athletic posture and…