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More Than Meets the Eye #50 — The Midlife Crisis Cruise Comes to an End
Our issue begins on Earth— not Swearth, but honest-to-god Earth— where Optimus Prime and Jetfire are watching a broadcast. It’s not syndicated television like I Love Lucy or The Transformers (1984), however. No, this broadcast is coming from some of our favorite Lost Lighters, detailing their last will and testament.
Nautica wants to be buried on her home planet, and doesn’t give a hot gay fuck what they engrave on her sparkcase. Also she’s missing a good chunk of her face, but don’t worry about that too much.
Chromedome’s just happy that he’s dying WITH his husband this go around. I’m sure Brainstorm’s also thrilled to not have the “please please please stop stabbing yourself in the brain to avoid the pain of being a widower Jesus Christ we can’t keep doing this”.
Rewind takes the opportunity to poke Chromedome in the inferiority complex one last time, making his message out to Dominus Ambus. Our resident lovebirds want to “enter the after spark simultaneously”, though that seems more like something to address with whoever’s killing them.
Over on Cybertron, in Metroplex’s titties, it would seem this broadcast is VERY wideband, as Starscream and Scoop (we’ll go over whatever the fuck’s going on there in another post) witness Nightbeat’s will and testament, though considering Nightbeat’s technically undead, I’m not sure how much legal weight it holds. Having done the whole “dying” thing before, I’m sure he’s spent many a long, sleepless night thinking about how it would happen next time. Ikea Johnson wants a “Neoprimalist” funeral, where they preserve only the head. Interesting that Nightbeat's religious sect is the same as Flywheels, the Scavenger who only existed to be a stand-in for the word "fuck".
Over on Luna 1, Red Alert is convinced that Megatron is using his gun mode to threaten Nightbeat. Fort Max isn’t so sure.
Minimus shows off the most recent trick he’s learned, saying the word “fun” with only stuttering twice. He wants to be buried on the moon, next to all of Rodimus’s failed pregnancies, and wearing the skin of a man who’s been dead for thousands of years.
Whirl doesn’t want a funeral, though you’d think he’d at least want his corpse thrown in the general direction of the Wreckers’ base, where every member gets a slot in the Zone of Remembrance as part of the onboarding. I know he got kicked out, but being shot out of a rail gun at Debris sounds roughly his speed.
Rung only requests that, should he die in his vape pen form, that he be dismantled. He’s so committed to preventing underage smoking, and for that I commend him.
Rung’s request greatly disturbs the Scavengers, who seem to have forgone fixing the Krok-shaped hole in the wall and buying a couch more than two of them can sit on at a time, in order to afford a replacement TV, after Krok fastball-specialed a golden disc through the last one.
On another part of Cybertron, Windblade and Wheeljack watch Velocity state that she doesn’t regret a single thing that’s happened while she’s been a part of the Lost Light. To recap, in the few months Velocity’s been aboard: Thunderclash almost died of being too perfect, Velocity’s first boss ran off to go bang a billionaire with a sword collection, Swerve almost died from too much television, her second boss ran off to get roped into the Polycule Wars, Tailgate exploded, Rung was revealed to be practicing without a license by way of a weird gibbon with a ball gag and his serial killer boyfriend, and she became the only practicing medical professional aboard a ship of over 200, after failing to pass her medical exams ten times. Oh, and she wants to be recycled.
Optimus wants to go save them, thinking that there’s still time. However, the Lost Light isn’t responding, and it doesn’t actually matter anyhow— these recording were sent out weeks ago.
Looks like that’s a series wrap on Nautica, Chromedome, Rewind, Nightbeat, Minimus, Whirl, Rung, and Velocity! Let’s give ‘em a hand, folks!
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Three weeks prior, on the planet of Miliarium, action is happening:
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Being on your headset in the middle of a battle seems rather rude, but I suppose sacrifices to politeness have to be made, when one of your co-captains is effectively forbidden from stepping foot on any planet that’s aware of Cybertron’s existence, given that he, y’know, is the face of a cause that slaughtered billions over the course of millions of years.
(No, don’t ask Optimus how relations with Earth are going.)
Megatron, continuing to command from orbit, tells Whirl to go help Cyclonus and Crossblades with the Rust Giants’ longship, asking for no casualties. Which is sort of like asking a horse on cocaine to not freak out and kick someone in the head, if that horse also had guns tied to 30% of its body.
Rodimus asks Megatron if he’s enjoying himself, playing a pacifist run of a wartime strategy game with their lives, and Megatron says that he’s “rumbled”; which I’m not sure if I’m search-engining wrong, but I don’t know that even the British are saying that to mean they’re right chuffed or tallywackered about a situation, or whatever. Rodimus is suddenly faced with a Rust Giant that he doesn’t even come up to the knee of, but luckily we have a new superhero to save the day, by way of incredible violence.
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Looks like we’re still workshopping the battle-cries.
Tailgate punched this guy so hard it cause a jump-cut to the post-battle celebration, where Rodimus shows off his multi-typefacial abilities, Megatron perpetrates his bigotry towards organics, the Cybertronians make galactic news for a not-awful reason for once, and Swerve is also here! For some reason! It looks like it’s gonna be all peaches and cream from here on, so long as we ignore the first three pages of this issue!
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Hey, Cyclonus, you have to wait for him to call you, you're not an Autobot. Just because the little white guy you're Sufjan Stevens-level attached to is going, doesn't mean— Cyclonus, hey. Hey, Cyclonus. Cyclonus. Cycl—
Later, back on the Lost Light, class is in session. We finally get a look at those course Megatron’s been teaching, only briefly mentioned by Riptide in issue #29. The current course track is on the Knights of Cybertron, Megatron having assigned those in attendance to write essays tackling “pre-Functionist folklore and contested heritage”.
Today’s class consists of:
Minimus (old as balls, former high society)
Skids (the best at everything)
Brainstorm (literal genius)
Perceptor (slightly-less-literal genius)
Nautica (jack-of-all-trades brainiac and bibliophile)
Crosscut (former senator, current playwright, therefore probably has at least some sort of degree)
Nightbeat (nosy as fuck, loves to figure shit out)
Hound (former Primal Vanguard)
Thunderclash (perfect student, researcher, friend, confidante, and maybe even lover)
Grapple (not much to say here, other than he’s fucking jacked in IDW)
Xaaron (chief legal advisor for the Autobots)
And Riptide (created during the war and therefore has the least connection to Cybertron's folklore, canonically not a good test-taker)
Poor Riptide's grades don’t stand a snowball's chance in hell against his peers', but good on him for sticking with the classes regardless.
This essay was assigned to help students establish context for the Knights within a world where they have not existed for millions of years, having disappeared since they embarked on their quest to Cyberutopia; a world where information creep, the slow degradation of memory as time passes, has made them into mythological figures. Megatron posits that the only thing we really know about the Knights is that they failed to do what they set out to do, as the universe is not a peaceful place, himself arguably being exhibit A of that failure. Still, he intends to use this course to help the Lost Light’s crew understand the Knights to the best of their current, modernity-biased ability, prior to potentially meeting them. Considering that the Knights will be deciding Megatron’s fate, perhaps this is also for him to grapple with understanding his own end.
Anyway, let’s look at a plot device.
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The last time we saw this symbol was during issue #46, both drawn by Grimlock on his walls, paired with the words “prepare confront repel”, and then on some mysterious fellows who were working with Krok’s nasty little friend Demus and someone called "The Grand Architect". However, the first time we saw it was with Skids in #21, after he went through Tyrest’s space bridge and talked to a giant technicolor ball of light.
Seeing this image kickstarts Skids’s memory, enough so that he interrupts class over it. Nautica has also seen this symbol, at an exhibit on Troja Major (a planet that Roberts will use as a dumping ground for many plot points in the sequel series to MTMTE) where it was claimed to be some sort of coat of arms. Thunderclash also knows this symbol, having seen it with his beautiful mind and kind heart in his visions, the same visions that were leading him to the Knights and allowing him to create a map to Cyberutopia. Nautica asks Skids to write out the symbol that he “heard” phonetically into her space phone, in a move that will prove HIGHLY useful later on. Perceptor adds in his two cents, showing off that he’s wearing the “feminine” nose-type today, stating that he had talked to one of the Circle of Light members back in Season 1, who had theorized that the Knights of Cybertron was either originally made up of OR broke down into clans, and that the symbol/map Rodimus and Thunderclash were drawing is merely connected to part of the Knights, and that there could be others floating around.
Nightbeat thinks that all this brainstorming (which hasn’t involved Brainstorm, oddly enough) is super cool and great, showing off his anime thumb in approval. When Minimus tries to give Megatron props for bringing everyone together to figure this out, he finds that Megatron is having some troubles, hunched over his podium as far as his fucked up old man toy articulation will allow. When Minimus approaches to see what’s wrong, he gets punched clear across the room for his troubles. Then this happens:
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Look, I don’t care if 99.9% of the Cybertronian population can reclaim, you shouldn’t just limp your wrist at your first officer in the middle of class.
No, what Megatron is actually doing is pointing the fusion cannon he doesn’t have anymore, but had attached to his arm for roughly 4 million years, directly at Minimus’s tiny little skull. Quickly coming back to himself, Megatron is both horrified and mortified by what he’s done, offering nothing more but a quick apology before he dismisses the class and bolts, not even helping Minimus off of the floor.
The following day, Velocity’s paying a visit to Megatron’s room, which is STILL as barren as the most dire of single male living spaces. Velocity’s here because Megatron missed his appointment yesterday, after whatever happened in the classroom. Megatron reminds her that the weekly appointment is for him receiving his ration of “fool’s energon” which is meant to keep him in a weakened state, which arguably shouldn’t make it medicine in the traditional sense. Velocity reminds him that he nearly knocked Minimus Ambus’s (yeah, she uses his full name, guess she’s not been around long enough to get “just Minimus” privileges) block off, and that if Megatron had been at full strength, we might be dealing with a murder situation instead.
Though Minimus IS a load bearer, who regularly slings around a body three times his size, on top of weapons, so maybe not. Also, there’s an even smaller guy inside the first mustached guy, so honestly it’d probably be fine.
Does Velocity even know about the irreducible Minimus? Is that in his medical history? Does she even know that Ultra Magnus and Minimus Ambus are the same person? Because Megatron didn’t even know until they found that corpse on the quantum duplicate Lost Light, and Magnus was his lawyer for the trial as well as being his SIC. Really, what are the legal ramifications of Minimus having assumed the identity of a dead man, now that Tyrest isn’t there to keep up the charade and the secret is a bit more open? Does Minimus have legal claim to Magnus’s identity, or at least ownership of the armor? Can Minimus lay claim to any property he purchased as Magnus, or that the previous Magnuses had purchased prior to their deaths? Was Minimus legally declared dead prior to undertaking the role of Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord, if only to make things easier in terms of paperwork? Can Minimus sign off on things, and if so, does he use his own signature, or Magnus’s? If he signed something as Magnus, would any contract bearing it be rendered temporarily void whenever he’s not wearing his work pants? How much of Minimus’s existence makes him cry late into the night with how legally dubious it is? Does Delta Magnus know about Ultra Magnus being a skin suit? I feel like we don’t focus on how fucked up this whole situation is nearly enough.
Anyway, Velocity asks after Megatron’s medicine, probably because First Aid’s medical note-taking skills often get usurped by his need to write SpringerxReader fanfiction. She mentions that what they’ve been feeding Megatron over the last year have some side effects, which Megatron seems surprised by. Considering he’s felt sickly and crampy this whole time, the side effects are likely meant to be the intent of the medication.
Velocity then takes a gander at the dents Megatron put into his head when he had his little freakout, stating that “chemo-sedatives” can change one’s whole personality in extreme cases, as well as increased stress levels, as Megatron admits that the reason he crushed his head with his hands is that he heard voices screaming. However, Megatron doesn’t think stress caused such a thing.
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To recap how the last year has gone for Megatron: he was forced to renounce the cause he had led for the last 4 million years, became co-captain of a fucking Carnival cruise ship, had 95% of his crew disappear from reality, found a bunch of corpses, got slapped in the face by Soundwave’s dad, had to lie to Rewind’s face to make him okay with killing himself so that everyone else might live, got shot as an infant, gaining anywhere from three-to-five fathers as a result, visited the most passive-aggressive garden in the galaxy, got stabbed in the chest and brained with a flat-screen television and then had to apologize for it, and was non-consensually hugged by a swarm of flesh-eating insects parading around in his SIC’s skin suit.
Velocity gets a call on her smart watch, Swerve on the other end demanding her presence at the medibay, seeing as she’s the only doctor on the ship now, and there are multiple people having a crisis.
Smash cut to Swerve, Cyclonus, Tailgate, Chromedome, Rewind, Rung, and Megatron standing on the bridge, their colors looking super fucked up and light bloomed out, because this is a 40-page issue with a shit-ton of detail and characters, so we’ve got three colorists, two artists, and an extra inker on for this one. They’re meeting with Rodimus, whose fingers have shrunk down to the size of shoestring potato fries, because Swerve, Tailgate, Rewind, Rung, and Megatron heard some sort of awful noise in their brains at the exact same time. Chromedome is here to support his husband, because he loves him so, so much, kissy-noise kissy-noise. Cyclonus is here mainly to clarify that he’s a badass who no one has ever heard cry, because emotional vulnerability and expressing pain are for pussies, unless you’re doing it by way of self-harming directly onto your face meat.
Only Tailgate and Rewind actually admit to what they heard, Tailgate hearing Cyclonus berate him for falling for Getaway’s tricks and Rewind hearing Dominus berate him for not doing enough to find him. I’d imagine both Rung and Swerve were hearing things relating to their professionalism, given that Rung fucking sucks at his job, and Swerve’s gonna fry the moment Ten gets a union sorted out. Megatron, is well, Megatron, so there’s a litany of awful things that he could have heard.
Rodimus has Blaster reveal that the ship received a signal at the exact same time that these people had their little brain event. Brainstorm hypothesizes that what happened was some sort of psychological assault, perhaps of Galactic Council origin, as a means of testing a new brain weapon. Magnus, who has been up on an upper level with a clipboard up to this point, notes that they could trace the signal. Mainframe informs him that they have, but the origin doesn’t seem to correspond to any known location in the navigation, and they’d have to physically go there to see what’s up. Which isn’t sketchy in the slightest.
Rodimus wants to load up on his big, beautiful Rodpod with everyone, so they can find who did this and make them stop. When Magnus questions if this is a wise course of action, Rodimus uses American grammar to trip up Magnus’s British-based spellcheck, so he gets to do whatever he wants. This is a trick he’s picked up since Drift left, as the old game of “pitting my people-pleaser hippy dippy boytoy and my no-nonsense stick-up-the-ass sentient rulebook against one another, so whatever I wanted to do from the start can seem like a pleasantly centralized option” doesn’t work very well when you replace the boytoy with a grumpy old man who tried to murder everything with a heartbeat.
Velocity wants to join the trip alongside Team Rodimus, but Mainframe has his reservations. I don’t blame him, considering she is, again, the only medical doctor currently on board this ship. He suggests she take along some personal protection, just in case.
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…I mean, he’ll definitely make sure any bad guys who come her way will die horribly, if nothing else. Also, apparently the Rodpod's artificial gravity goes all the way around.
Nautica’s spent the last few weeks tricking out the Rodpod with a fancy schmancy new teleport drive, because Rodimus was annoying her to the point where if she didn’t give him what he was moaning about she might have had to kill him. Megatron is hesitant to use the drive, but after being informed that there are safety perimeters in place that’ll keep the ol’ Rodimus Podimus from teleporting inside a asteroid or whatever, he pulls the level and they end up in the dark.
No, not space dark, don’t be funny. That’s my job, and they don’t pay me for it, which should tell you how dire the situation is. This is a special sort of dark. The sort of dark that leads to panic and lethal levels of quipping. Rodimus cuts the lights on, but it does very little to offset the absolutely suffocating darkness outside. Rewind notes that there aren’t any stars, and Tailgate admits that he doesn’t know how space works. That’s alright Tailgate, neither do any of the people who draw or color this comic. You’re amongst (created by?) friends here.
The scanners reveal that there’s something 3000 miles in front of them. And behind them. And to the left, to the right, 12 o'clock, three o'clock, six o'clock, nine o'clock, rock around the clock tonight— that is to say, they’re surrounded by something the size of a planet. After disabling the safety protocols on the Rodimus Podimus, the gang find themselves on the surface of Necroworld, where the Necrobot Censere lives and operates his many plinths to the living and dead. Megatron isn’t exactly thrilled to be back here. Nightbeat on the other hand, is overdose on mystery, and he couldn’t be happier. Nobody’s sure what the fuck is going on. There’s no time to theorize, however, as half the gang just got blown sky high.
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Everyone books it back to the Rodpod to escape the dozen attack craft coming after them, but there’s more trouble here— the teleport drive is dead. Which is weird, because they should have had enough juice to get to and from their little trip. When Rodimus tries to contact the Lost Light, there’s no response. They’re not responding. Megatron tells him that those are two different things, mirroring the same thing Optimus said about trying to contact the Lost Light after he and Jetfire viewed the will tapes. Everyone else is busy trying to figure out who the hell could be firing on them, all of them roughly coming to the same conclusion that Cybertronians as a whole aren’t terribly well liked, and the Lost Lighters have made a bit of a name (derogatory) for themselves, since they insulted the Galactic Council, caused the end of the 16-million year Stentarian war, and have ruined at least one bar with physical violence over home movies.
Rodimus tells Megatron to park the Rodpod at the Necrobot’s citadel, just in time for a missile to hit the ass-end of the shuttle, blowing off Magnus’s arm, shredding off roughly half of Nautica’s face, and giving Cyclonus an excuse to hold Tailgate in his arms. Everyone bolts to get inside, Nautica being carried by Skids so we can further solidify the straightest pairing in the series. Once they’re all inside, their attackers retreat, and we see where Censere’s gotten to in all this.
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Let’s give him a hand, folks!
While Velocity looks over the body, Nightbeat deals with his personal Santa Claus being dead by way of trying to figure out what happened. Megatron, meanwhile, noticed that the craft that attacked them were of Decepticon design, and he tells Ravage to go check it out. Honestly, I doubt he was the only one to notice, given that all but three of the people on this trip were dealing with the Decepticons in some form or fashion all throughout the war, and could therefore identify the make of the crafts, if not the model, so I’m not sure what the deal is with this secrecy.
Brainstorm is brought over to Nightbeat to help solve this mystery, and he promptly identifies that some of Censere’s equipment is very similar to the stuff Tyrest used for the Aequitas trials, likely used to figure out what sparkflowers to plant where. Rewind, having popped on his sparkliest nipple pasties on, because he hates Censere and wants to get glitter all over his house, asks the boys to scootch on over so he can try to call the Lost Light. Nightbeat thinks that Censere tried to sabotage a signal someone else had sent in an attempt to lure Team Rodimus (and friends) to the planet, and that resulted in the brain attack that had happened earlier in the day. Unfortunately, Censere didn’t spend any time with Rodimus the last time the Lost Light visited, so he didn’t get a taste of the ridiculous way Rodimus likes to live his life, and why the psychic attack wouldn’t work.
Rewind gets the phone working, calling Rodimus over to get on the horn. Magnus stands in the background, showing off his grievous amputation. After a bit of fiddling with the settings on their end, the Lost Light makes official contact with Team Rodimus.
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Getaway, last we saw him, was very much in prison, but Rodimus isn’t going to focus on that niggling little detail right now, as he asks for the Lost Light to swing by to pick up the team so they don’t all die. Getaway sort of DOES want to focus on that detail, however, as he very much didn’t appreciate being fetish fuel throughout the holiday season, and, despite his name, didn’t actually escape that setup. No, Getaway had help.
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Man, guess Megatron should’ve reconsidered failing Riptide on his essay.
Speaking of Megatron, he walks up about now to see what all the hubbub’s about. Rodimus, looking like he’s about to cry, realizes that Mainframe lied to them about not being able to track the signal. Getaway gives him points for getting that right, but really, he wants to drive home the point that the entirety of the crew wanted Megatron’s little pals off the ship. And that’s what it’s really about, at the end of the day. Getaway hates that high command gave Megatron a party cruise to live out his last days on, last days that might not even happen, with the track record of this goddamned quest. He’s sick of Rodimus and pals acting like this whole arrangement isn’t an affront to every single life that’s been snuffed out because of Megatron’s actions.
Everyone other than Whirl seems pretty bummed out by these accusations. Swerve pipes up, enraged that he’s been doomed to die alongside everyone else— he doesn’t even LIKE Megatron. Getaway reveals that at some point or another, he and Atomizer (the interior designer turned bowman, you’ll recall) approached every single crew member and asked if they thought Megatron deserved to have a second chance and also, completely unrelated, but what would you do in the event of a coup? Anyone who didn’t provide a desirable answer got visited by the nudge gun fairy— that gun that can fire thought into your brain, or just erase memories if fired dry. The collection of headaches main cast have been experiencing over the last several issues? The side effect of being shot. Skids especially does not like this reveal.
Of course, Getaway isn’t just upset with Megatron’s leadership— he’s also mad as hell what’s supposed to be a trip to find their ancestors, who will guide them back onto the straight and narrow, has, in actuality, been Rodimus’s midlife crisis road trip. Getaway wasn’t even here for Rodimus and Drift’s ass-slapping contests and insulting galactic officials who want the Cybertronians dead, but he didn’t need to be. He took one look at the Rodpod and decided he needed to kill Rodimus right then and there.
Rodimus, at this point, remembers the list Atomizer had offered him back during the trial. Magnus, biting his lip at the idea of a list existing, asks what that’s all about, and Rodimus explains. Getaway really was hoping that Rodimus would take the bait, so he could’ve blackmailed Rodimus into stepping down and letting literally anyone else take over. Probably Magnus, at that point in the timeline, given that he hadn’t gotten buddy-buddy with Megatron yet at that point. Unless Getaway considers acting as someone’s lawyer under order of the space pope as being too close to an individual.
Getaway decides that this conversation has reached its natural conclusion, as he’s got questing to get done, and it should be moving at a pretty even clip now, since he’s excised all the distractions. Rodimus swears to come after him, but Getaway doubts it’ll happen, given what’s happening next.
While this debacle has been happening, Ravage has been busy searching a crash site, trying to uncover the identity of who the hell’s decided to attack them. Tarn commits a microagression at him, before firing his twin fusion cannons.
The call ends, Getaway cutting off the comm to all contact.
Ravage shows back up at this point, to give everyone the bad news.
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Nightbeat, honey, the tragedy is in the opposite direction.
Now, that’s technically the finale of the main story, but there’s a little bonus comic attached to the end, acting as a sort of sideways epilogue to hint at what Getaway and his merry band of mutineers will be getting up to, since we aren’t seeing them again for a bit.
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Our little backup strip begins right before the original launch of the Lost Light, where we see some guys we haven’t seen the 2012 Annual issue. Shock and Ore wander around what will one day become Swerve’s, Shock convinced that this ship is actually the ship they lost 5 million years prior, the Unitrex-1. Ore isn’t so sure, but as the readers, we saw the exact moment that Unitrex-1 disappeared in issue #38, after Rodimus forgot to wash his hands while putting the quantum engine together. Shock, wanting to prove that he’s right, fumbles around in the dark, looking for the graffiti he carved into the underside of a table. Ore gets a call on his space Blackberry while he’s doing this, and we finally get the other half of that call Prowl made in issue #1, after he failed to get Chromedome to stay on Cybertron. The Duobots have 20 minutes to get Overlord’s massive, lippy ass on the ship. Knowing that that isn’t a ton of time, the two quickly book it out of the bar, leaving the spectral form of Skids to look really bummed out.
Later, at Swerve’s grand (secret) opening, we see some more old faces.
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Whoa now, Drift, you’re not supposed to be back until next issue!
Pipes thinks he’s been cursed to not have friends, since Hubcap is still at his dead-end job with the Wreckers, and Riptide was too busy being in a coma to come say goodbye. How rude!
Drift doesn’t seem to particularly want Pipes around more than necessary, pushing him to be friends with Rewind, who he describes as having kind eyes. Whether Drift is doing this to keep Pipes safe from overhearing any Overlord-related secrets, keeping his ass-slapping and sexually-tense sword training time with Rodimus safe, or just because he finds Pipes to be mildly annoying isn’t clear. Pipes, however, is looking for more than friendship— he’s looking to bone down.
Pipes’s ideal partner is wide as they are tall, with tits to match and at least one alt-mode that he can use as a yacht. Drift tells him he can introduce him to Tailgate, though something tells me Pipes isn’t really Tailgate’s type, given that he can actually say what he means and doesn’t have some fucked-up facial situation.
It’s really too bad that Pipes died, because I bet he would have loved Nautica, and he would have REALLY loved Nickel.
Later still, we see all of our doctors together— even Ambulon is there! In one piece, even! Ambulon wants to tell First Aid something, and First Aid automatically tries to make it a cosmetic thing, because of COURSE Ambulon would be insecure about his bad skin, and what he really needs is a better cleanser. What Ambulon actually wants to talk about, though, is his alt mode, and the fact that the puns involved with being part of a Combiner make him want to die. First Aid understands, but Swerve, known menace to society, might not be so compassionate, as he throws a grenade into the back of Ambulon’s head, triggering his transformation. Ambulon is mortified, and Swerve does the thing that Ambulon literally just said he hates. First Aid continues to rip flakes of paint off of Ambulon, as the specter of Velocity watches, looking pretty bummed about the fact that she never got to be part of banter like this.
Later on than that, Rewind and a wheelchair-bound Rung are in the currently-empty Swerve’s, as Rewind calls Chromedome to gather up one of the groups for those storytelling circles Rewind organized to try to fix Rung’s brain. He hangs up, then tells Rung that once his brain works again, they’re going to have a goddamned chat about Dominus Ambus, which is only mildly hampered in its threat by the fact that Rewind standing is barely the same height as Rung sitting down.
Rewind then gets to work writing out the story map for when the “Shadowplay” group gets there, as the specter of Chromedome reaches out longingly for the dead version of his husband. He laments that this Rewind died without closure, but the ghostly specter of Rung reminds him that there are rules to this, and they have to leave now. Not sure why Rung’s here to watch himself be threatened by Pipsqueak McGee. Is he actually doing his job for once, helping guide someone through their grief? I doubt it, since Chromedome isn’t a hottie bo-body like Skids, and his problems haven’t (directly, at least) caused the sort of trouble that make entire star systems hate you like Megatron.
Later, during the Overlord disaster, Perceptor sprints into Swerve’s, shouting for a medic, as the rest of the battered and beaten watch. Hoist, himself hooked up to the wall by some sort of cable, while wearing his extra-special Rodimus Star, offers to help, though he’s technically an engineer, and whatever he’s gonna do probably won’t have any consideration for the soul or ability to feel pain. Perceptor was using Tripodeca— sweet, beloved, friend to all, who was the star of the post-Overlord mass funeral Tripodeca— as a, uh, tripod for his rifle, when Overlord probably noticed that the ol’ science sniper looked sort of familiar and did a lil’ grabbing with his big nasty hands. Hoist asks if Perceptor is going to stop Overlord, and considering how things went the last time Overlord was the star of the show, I doubt Perceptor thought he was gonna get lucky twice in terms of survival, especially when Overlord is riGHT BEHIND HIM OH GOD LORDY JESUS MARY AND JOSEPH
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How Perceptor survived this isn't clear, but we know he did, as he continued to show up in the story past issue #15 in a decidedly alive, non-paste form. His specter watches this scene unfold, expression unreadable.
Post-Luna 1, Swerve stands in his ruined bar dejectedly, when he realizes that quite a few people have shown up to help him clean up the mess, as long as he promises to reward their hard work with reopening once it’s done. As everyone works to get things back in order, Swerve tells them to keep an eye out for a non-trashed Legislator that he could use as a bouncer, once he fucks around with its head enough to make it do what he wants. Ten’s specter watches as his shitty boss and arguable father is gifted the body that would become him, making a note to get his union going with a bit more urgency.
Later, on the day of the “Fuck Off Megatron 2-for-1 Drink Deal”, Crosscut lead Riptide, Mirage, and Nautica on a tour of the ship. Mirage notes that Swerve’s is a bit of a dive, not suited to his refined tastes in the slightest. In a booth, Getaway and Atomizer have boxed Mainframe in on either side to have a little chat. Swerve and Bluestreak talk television, Bluestreak making a little jab at MTMTE’s second season not being quite as well-received by fans as the first. Over at the bar, Highbrow and Perceptor talk about Quark, while Brainstorm watches while having his briefcase, which he is NOT supposed to have in here.
Crosscut goes on about this bar being where all things happen and where bittersweet is the most often-felt emotion, then calls Trailcutter/blazer an alcoholic as he dances on the ceiling. The specters of just about everyone on the ship watch their fallen friend, enjoying the moment and missing him terribly, as Perceptor brings them back to the here and now of the story, which turns out to be just after the holiday special, judging by the Christmas lights.
Minimus asks if this is safe, and Perceptor says that it is, as nobody can actually interact with the past, because Brainstorm is the only one who’s ever actually perfected that tech, not that this isn’t his fault either. It turns out that when you try to fly against the stream of time as it naturally occurs, you tear a few thousand itty bitty holes on the way to perfecting the process. Perceptor’s found a way to let others view the past, at least for a little while. Minimus is fine with it, as long as everyone continues to behave, and it seems like they are, as everyone mingles in Swerve’s.
The two of them sit down, Megatron handing Minimus what I’m sure is a mocktail, and Perceptor explains that while the window into the past is closing for now, it may open back up in the future. When Rodimus asks when that might be, he then immediately decides that he doesn’t want to know, instead wanting to have a fun little surprise for later. They don’t get very many of those, fun surprises.
As everyone toasts to the dead and to future adventures, the specter of Getaway watches on, smug as hell.
That’s the end of “No Guns, No Swords, No Briefcases” but that is STILL not the end of the issue! It never ends, this thing! Because the number 50 is very big and impressive, obviously this is a double-sized spectacular, and has to cap off with a note from the man himself— James Roberts.
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And then after that we get a new notes from fans, but this is already obscenely long and I think I can show you the crux of what they’re all saying right here: MTMTE (2012) is fucking good. It’s a good series. Make your goddamn family, friends, coworkers, librarians, and goldfish read it. Share it with people you’ve never met. Get a long-term personal project out of it. Get long-term friends out of it. Get a long-term romantic partner out of it. If I can do it, so can you!
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capybara
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Scarp socks! I’ve told myself I can’t buy anymore sock yarn until I finish what I have. So in a drastic move I cut up all my ugly / scrap self striping yarn and sorted it by colour.
They turned out great and I love playing with colour like this but there are just so many ends to weave in! (too many, one might say).
The colour work was inspired by Emma Ducher’s Anni sock pattern, which in turn was inspired by Anni Albers’s Bauhaus weaving.
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Somewhat sequel to This Stupid Thing.
Fiyero do be going through it.
Here's him meeting the Lion.
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In honor of our very first sneak peek of the movie Wicked, my nostalgia kicked into high gear and I'm honoring one of my earliest fandom crazes with a silly little comic I'm calling "Fiyero Doesn't Get Enough Recognition For All The Shit He's Been Through."
Enjoy Fiyero having the weirdest 72 hours of his life.
Sequel comic here.
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Working at the sex shop really did rewire my brain. There was basically no topic that was too taboo to talk about, and what little propriety I’d had evaporated. I’d be out walking and chatting with friends about erotica I’d had to read that day only to be shushed and realize people were staring at me.
It always struck me as a little bit silly but I learned to curb myself for others comfort levels. Mostly.
But I have one distinct memory of decorating holiday cookies with my parents and my grandmother. My mom had worked in a sex shop back in her day, and I never hid my line of work from my family, so I was telling a work story.
I was conscious that my dad was slightly more sensitive, so I was using pretty broad descriptions, but I happened to mention silicone lube and my nana asked, “What’s that?”
I went into full sales mode. Focused on the little reindeer cookie I was decorating I started info dumping, “Oh, it’s pretty great. Water based lubricants get absorbed through vaginal mucous membranes, but silicone is too dense and our body can’t absorb it the same way. So once you apply some silicone you never have to worry about chafing, and a little goes a long way. It’s especially popular with older women, because they start producing less natural lubricant and absorb water based lubes so quickly.”
There was a silent beat after this statement.
I looked up.
My mom and grandmother were looking at me with rapt attention, and I belatedly realized I was addressing two older women who probably would welcome extra lubrication.
And then there was my dad, blushing so pink with embarrassment that I thought he was about to faint.
“I can talk about something else,” I offered in apology to my dad.
“Like hell! He can go in the other room, tell me more!” My nana declared. My dad scampered off to busy himself in another room while I answered their questions and talked about brands and pricing.
I slipped them each a small bottle of silicone lube for the holidays.
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Lmao Aral is a 4 or 5 on the Kinsey scale but fell for Cordelia because she's the first butch he'd ever seen in his life.
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AO3 has no app, and will not have an app.
The site is designed to work well in mobile browsers, and if you have an account and log in, you can subscribe to works (and authors!), you can bookmark work (and leave notes to yourself in your bookmark about what chapter you were on), and you can mark a work as "Mark for Later" so you can find it later when you have time to read. You can even choose a site skin and have it work whenever you sign into your account, whether you're on mobile or at a computer.
If you don't have an account, they're easy to get. You can either sign up and wait the few days until they get to you, or someone who already has an account can send you an invitation (I have several and am willing to send mine out to people who ask).
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*SIGHS*
Another AO3 app that's pretending to be official when it's not (or at least isn't making it clear its unofficial.) They're using AO3's name and logo, and embedding ads.
There is no official AO3 app
Someone else is gathering your data, potentially your log in information etc and making use of it how they please. (They say they're not but their privacy policy says otherwise)
They are making money from the ads without the fic writer's consent.
They've also rated it Pegi 3 (which is ludicrous)
Please, even if you care about nothing else, for the safety of your data, please don't use this app. Certainly don't give it your AO3 log in details.
I've told AO3 that it's infringing on its copyright. I will be requesting they remove access of my work as I do not consent to my creative content being used to generate ad revenue for them.
I will be reporting it as incorrectly rated.
The only email address I can find is [email protected] which is included in their privacy policy, and [email protected] as their developer.
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Star Trek: The Original Series | The Corbomite Maneuver
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"In a historic “first-of-its-kind” agreement the government of British Colombia has acknowledged the aboriginal ownership of 200 islands off the west coast of Canada.
The owners are the Haida nation, and rather than the Canadian government giving something to a First Nation, the agreement admits that the “Xhaaidlagha Gwaayaai” or the “islands at the end of world,” always belonged to them, a subtle yet powerful difference in the wording of First Nations negotiating.
BC Premier David Eby called the treaty “long overdue” and once signed, will clear the way for half a million hectares (1.3 million acres) of land to be managed by the Haida.
Postal service, shipping lanes, school and community services, private property rights, and local government jurisdiction, will all be unaffected by the agreement, which will essentially outline that the Haida decide what to do with the 200 or so islands and islets.
“We could be facing each other in a courtroom, we could have been fighting each other for years and years, but we chose a different path,” said Minister of Indigenous Relations of BC, Murray Rankin at the signing ceremony, who added that it took creativity and courage to “create a better world for our children.”
Indeed, making the agreement outside the courts of the formal treaty process reflects a vastly different way of negotiating than has been the norm for Canada.
“This agreement won’t only raise all boats here on Haida Gwaii – increase opportunity and prosperity for the Haida people and for the whole community and for the whole province – but it will also be an example and another way for nations – not just in British Columbia, but right across Canada – to have their title recognized,” said Eby.
In other words, by deciding this outside court, Eby and the province of BC hope to set a new standard for how such land title agreements are struck."
-via Good News Network, April 18, 2024
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what's the first movie you remember seeing in theaters? don't try and be all edgy and cool and say like tetsuo: the iron man. be honest.
Go!!
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Foggy’s gotten pretty decent at naming which red-themed vigilante is coming through his window in the middle of the night without even opening his eyes: Matt tries to be quiet so he doesn’t wake him up, Deadpool is talking before he even gets the window open and Peter knocks like a goddamn decent human being.
“Come in!” he yells, deciding that he won’t get out of bed until he knows if there’s an emergency or Peter just wants to raid his first aid kit and fridge.
“Sorry, Mr. Nelson,” Peter says, climbing inside and dropping lightly to the floor. “I know it’s late but I had a question.”
“Shoot, Spiderboy,” Foggy says, sitting up to see Peter lingering awkwardly close by in full Spiderman gear and oversized hoodie, backpack slung over one shoulder.
“It’s just that Mr. Murdock said that you might be willing to look over one of my essays,” Peter says, “but I kind of got distracted doing, y’know--” Peter makes a vague punching motion with a soft pow sound. “--and it’s kind of due tomorrow morning.”
“Oh my god,” Foggy says, sighing and pushing aside his sheets to get out of bed. “This is actually the least stressful thing one of you weirdos has ever asked me to do. What’s your essay about?”
“Macbeth.”
“Y’know, Matt was an English major,” Foggy says, huffing out a laugh and finding a sweatshirt to pull on before he turns on the lights. “You should probably be offended that he passed you off on me.”
“What was your major?” Peter asks.
“Business,” Foggy says. “Did I ever tell you about how my mom wanted me to be a butcher?”
“You have,” Peter says, dutifully, sitting his backpack on the floor and digging through it, “but you can tell me again, if you want.”
“You’re a good kid,” Foggy says, taking the essay when Peter finds it and hands it to him. “There’s leftovers in the fridge. Go eat while I check this bad boy out.”
"You're my hero," Peter says, fervently.
Foggy's never been called that before.
He doesn't hate it.
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Alright, to ao3's soon to be arriving Wattpad Refugees, a basic guide to general user culture:
1.) Unlike Wattpads vote system that let's you like each chapter, the ao3 equivalent kudos only allows one per work. Everyone is generally quietly annoyed about this. To engage with each chapter, you're heavily encouraged to comment. Trust me, it makes people's day.
2.) Ao3 has no algorithm. By default it's latest updated work first. You can find things to your taste through searches, filters and tags.
3.) 'No archive warnings apply' and 'user has chosen not to use archive warnings' mean two very different things. No archives warnings means the work is free from any content that could require a warning tag (character death, graphic depictions of violence, non-con, etc). User has chosen not to use archive warnings means it could contain any of the warning content, be it hasn't been explicitly tagged. Treat it like an allergen. No archive warnings apply is allergen free. User has chosen not to use archive warnings, may contain traces or whole chunks of the allergen. If you're likely to have a bad reaction, maybe don't take the risk.
4.) Speaking of warnings, ao3 has very few restrictions on the type of work that's allowed. Whatever your personal thoughts or feelings on that are, thats how the site is. You're likely to run across some dark subject matters and a lot of people are uncomfortable with reading that. You're well within your rights not like these works and have your opinion on whether they should be allowed, but harassing the authors of such works (or any works) is more likely to come back on you than them. Ao3 operates on a strong policy of 'don't like, don't read'. Use the tagging system to your full advantage to only engage with the kind of works you want to see.
We look forward to welcoming you all and seeing the fantastic works you create. Happy writing!
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Donna Noble has never witnessed a regeneration that doesn't result in multiple doctors, at least one of them being David Tennant.
She spends life living with fourteen worried that he's going to fall down the stairs and she'll end up with another one.
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