Baps

Happy Valentine’s Day!

 Set of Limited palette Commissions I did back in Ia-Con. Technically it’s still part of my Valentine’s day palette run, but ya homeboy need’s to get off her ass and post more so here ya go ^v^. 

Program I use is CSP

Ahhhhhh!!!! Fuuuuuuck me right up with this picture!

- equaliser set. sound check. -

Such a pretty mech <3

since you seem like you're a Knock Out expert and you can draw, do you have any of your own ideas for his RID2015 design? just out of curiosity

well i wouldn’t call myself an expert but yes, i have ideas

... but it's such a good song...

I'm going to kill Tailgate if he plays "We Don't Talk About Bruno" one. more. time.

Part 6🥀🩶

Two orns now, and not a single glimpse of her. It was a long stretch to go without contact, even if that contact was as fleeting as a discrete brush when they passed in the halls. She wasn’t still with the same client? It wasn’t unheard of… but it wasn’t common for a patron to stay for such a long time.

She considered her options, how she might find a way to inquire about her lover’s location without giving anything away. Recollections of her encounter with the young mech from Vos flickered through her processor.

“I think I’d like to meet her.”

A pleased smile curved her lip components for a nano-klik before disappearing, and she made her way toward the Grand Salon, steps even and measured. Bypassing the guests and other courtesans, she maneuvered to the head of the room, where one of the Keepers stood monitoring activity.

Pausing when she reached the dias, she stood quietly until she was acknowledged. Seeing the slim mech wave a servo in her direction, she tipped into a slight bow. Head down, she inquired softly, “Greetings, Keeper Accelera. Might I have a moment?”

“What is it?”

“I have a patron who expressed interest in the femme who last performed at the Inner Theatre. When is her next available appointment?”

"That one is no longer available. Tell your client to see me and I will offer them similar alternatives.”

…

…

…

What?

Everything else fell away, her spark stuttering in her chassis at the implication in those words – said so flippantly. No longer available. The phrase used by Masters and Keepers when a courtesan was scrapped, but that wasn’t - it couldn’t… no.

No.

How?!

No! No! NO!!

From the corner of her optics, she saw the Keeper glance at her expectantly, and she forced herself to mutter a brief acknowledging response before turning away and striding from the room. She sought an empty lift, refusing to meet the gaze of any she passed. Her servos balled into tight, trembling fists behind her back, her stance wavering as she rode the pod to the upper floors. Once there, she identified a vacant room and slipped inside unnoticed, closing the door softly and pressing her forehead against the smooth metal. The rooms here were built to offer privacy, dampening almost all sound from within.

A sharp, keening wail escaped her as she sunk to the floor, helm shaking in denial.

Images of her lover’s smiling countenance as she looped her arm through that fuming guard’s own came back to her. Him. He had done this.

The anger was quickly swallowed up by guilt. She… had let it happen. She should have been the one to serve him that night. But her Star had stepped in… volunteered.

‘I never should have allowed it. This… is my doing.’

This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. They were supposed to escape this nightmarish place… find happiness together. She was a sweet, gentle spark, without an ounce of bitterness in her. She, above all others, had deserved happiness. Instead, she had met an ignoble end in this wretched place, her last moments spent alone, afraid, in pain. And they threw her away like scrap, like she was nothing.

She was everything… and now she was gone.

Her arms shook as she struggled to keep herself upright, eventually giving in, collapsing and pulling herself into a shuddering heap. Her outlook on their situation had always been far more pessimistic, but her darling lover had dispelled the darkness with her light. Tucking her chin against her chassis, she closed her optics, feeling the slim hope that had resided in her flicker out of existence.

Screamer

Rad af!

ハロウィンに上げるの忘れてた😇

My wife!!

(had to repost cuz it went 'poof')

-> Fun fact, spiders in the genus gasteracantha exhibit biofluorescence, so under any kind of UV lighting her colour scheme would look wildly different!

->Tumblr ate my post... so here it is again!

First, in what is sure to be an extensive series of character redesigns for Blackarachnia.

• Gasteracantha aka spiny orb weaver (more specifically the demon horned orb weaver)

I cannot stress how much I LUV spiders, so if anyone enjoys them as much as I - or even if you just like the concept art - feel free to leave me suggestions of other spider species in the comments. I have a few in mind but wpuld love to hear other thoughts.

The decision to detour was bred from a distinct sense of dread that filled him at the thought of returning to the base. He hated these scouting mission debriefings. Especially when they yielded no interesting results. So when the unfamiliar energon signature had popped up on his radar, he'd almost felt releived. Yet this begged the question...

"Who the frag are you?"

A covert approach was needed here. Setting the Jackhammer down amid a sparse cluster of pines, he continued on pede. Being at ground level meant losing his aerial vantage point; a necessary risk if he wanted to catch this mystery bot unawares. Mindful of his steps, Wheeljack listened intently for any sign of them, hearing only the chatter of native fauna. Whoever they were... they were sneaky.

So sneaky in fact, that he nearly blew his cover. The wrecker all but threw himself behind a craggy outcropping of rock, peering around the opposing side as they continued their approach.

Feline in shape, the bot stood around the same height as his knee - a deployer perhaps? Regardless, that was a Con if he'd ever seen one.

At this point he knew he had two options. He could engage, or he could call it in and await orders. A smirk pulled at his scarred lip components. He never had been the patient type.

Cannon humming to life as he stepped into their path, Wheeljack chuckled in response to the snarled threat he received. "Nice night for a walk, innit?"

@gutter-bot liked for a starter.

Since returning to his host's side, Ravage rarely left the Nemesis. Soundwave was protective- rightfully so-, and Ravage's frame just wasn't what it used to be. After his near death experience that lead to the separation from his host on Cybertron, he never quite regained his full strength.

However, that didn't mean he was useless. On the contrary, in fact. Ravage could still perform his strong suit exceptionally well; that being his work as a spy. It helped that the Autobots were unaware of his existence.

He had been slinking back from a successful intel gathering mission when things went wrong. Wheeljack, as he was last informed by Laserbeak, was not supposed to be in the area. Apparently, things had changed. He froze at the glowing blaster aimed at his helm, a low growl ripping itself from his throat. "Back off," he snarled, red optics narrowing beneath the Soundwave-esc visor that covered most of his helm.