Dayacakrawala - Hard-wet-ware - Tumblr Blog

No spoilers Transformers: One review

What a day. Ran in the forest (not jogging or shit, just rushing through the woods in my black cloak, having fun), then went to see a cartoon in the almost empty cinema.

Well, the moral of the story was remarkable. When you kill off one bad guy in authority, there comes another bad guy with their own agenda to take the bad guy place. In fact, there are more bad guys getting in line to walk over you. And the only way to stop the bad guy pipeline is a magical artifact given by god that no one has a smallest fraction of an idea how to gain. (And it makes you as much of a monarchist as the original bad guy was.)

Ah, and Arachnid and Sentinel can probably trigger some bisexual awakenings among kids. (I liked the movie, really. Though, Megatron's arc didn't feel right with the narrative pace. And we never had a chance to see Sentinel's personal quarters. Shame.)

I really like the headcanon (which I didn't come up with myself, picked it up in some fic) that TFP Knock Out worked in the beauty industry, doing buffing and shit. And after the war broke out, he reclassified himself as a doctor, took five-day courses, and started performing medical stuff. He's basically a hairdresser doing surgery.

My local cinema is pirating TF: One. Guess who just paid an absolutely disgusting price for one ticket just to sit in the darkness and wait for technical issues. I hope the damn movie is worth this rip-off. Or at least valveplug content I'll be able to enjoy afterwards is worth it. (I've seen some Sentinel porn already, I highly suspect it'll at least make my mourning for my money a tiny bit lighter.)

I very really and very sincerely find it hot as hell, if applied properly. I've read an OptiRatch fic where honks, sirens, and back-up beepers during sex were used for comedy. It's fine, but I wanna see it played straight for sexy.

I think Optimus should honk real loud when he cums. Just like a big huge *HOOOOONNK* like you’d here from any other 18-wheeler. Big old truck noise.

At least Pharma still loved Ratchet when he was a worm.

"Pits of Kaon" was actually an afterparty for those who paid extra shanix to see gladiators delivering some other sort of circenses after tearing each others' guts out. For instance, them being restrained, edged, and milked. Those who made a good show on the arena got their bonds loosened enough to allow them to spike a false valve by themselves. And those whose performance sucked (even if they won) got just restrained and forced to watch.

Every known gladiator went through it, at least once. The celibacy requirement in most gladiator's contracts was no joke. Megatron? Oh, was an absolute crowd-pleaser. Why he later turned to revolutionary ideas and terror? Motherfuckers banned "Pits of Kaon".

Saving shit for posterity.

Split-spark (or whatever way they are made) twins can't take a Conjunx due to being considered "naturally conjunxed" or "conjunxed by Primus Himself" with their twin. Some stay just siblings to each other and take other lovers and life partners. Some take the other path.

oooo That's really fun, I like that. So much drama potential if the twins don't take each other on as lovers.

And you know, it makes sense. Spark-bonds and split-spark twins are usually described as having similar experience with their bonds, so yeah, twins are born naturally conjuxed :) hopefully they get along, or at least don't mind being unable to conjunx someone else....

New Transformers art sideblog just dropped. It took me embarrassingly long to figure out how to manage this blog and share TF art I like without losing the ability to see my posts and other text stuff I reblog without it being drowned by visual stuff (that is faster to consume and always gets more attention in fandom spaces, which is understandable, but as a writer, I've always felt it was kinda unfair). Part of it is Tumblr being developed by incompetent idiots and having its search and filter system suck worse than anything in the universe.

Another part is this shitty platform trying to be a kindergarten and censoring visual NSFW content (not just porn, they do it with fucking nipples). And posting such content may get a blog shadow-banned or even taken down. I'm not sure about reblogs, but who knows how far they can go on their puritanic crusade on adult artists until we learn that sex is evil and touching your loins is a sin that gives you hairy palms.

Anyway, my new sin bin: @daycaklovesart. There will be just fandom art and also valveplug shit of course (sadly, not as much as I'd like to see, thank you, shitty Tumblr policy, rot in hell). Please follow to see some good and occasionally kinky art.

(I'll be filling it slowly, since I want to make tags work there.)

Hm. Xenophiliac tfa Beachcomber. Especially big fan of aliens with tentacles, loves to be filled up with cum and/or eggs, then cuddle with the aliens while he incubates their spawn

Although I'm not familiar with TFA aside from posts (mostly about MegOp size difference, lol, and Shockwave's cool design), I can see it to be very likely. Tentacles are usually full of initiative and ready to make the first move. And cuddly alien monsters? Yeah. I love tentacles. And I'm here for characters being xenosexual freaks and seeking hookups with Lovecraftian folks.

It's both funny and heartwarming to me if Whirl got his spike reconstructed only after he met Cyclonus and warmed up to him. Just as he had his little moral shift when it got to him that Tailgate's death might kinda upset his not-friend (yeah, totally not one), he might rethink his priorities and opt for getting at least 1/2 of his junk back. Long and ridged 1/2.

It must've been worth it.

by 'noncon, prostitution, sexual slavery, sluttification/bimbofication do little to me' do u mean you like asks with those things or no

I mean, said things are clearly not my cup of tea, I don't think we'll be having much fun with them. I see them being rather popular kinks among valveplug blogs, so I listed them as things I'm not really into to save us time if someone is looking for this kind of content/discussion.

Empurata nullification Yeah, I'm a firm believer that Empurata victims come back missing their junk. Or worse, the mutilation may be aimed especially at making it hurt, or never fully heal, or just appear repulsive to the potential partner (even in a way "looks so painful they're hesitant to touch the thing"), or be especially hard to repair even for a skilled medic.  

I don't think a lot of empuratees even got their fuck equipment back during and shortly after the war. It's another story with hands and faces, but spikes and valves may be considered a waste of precious resources that also puts extra load on medics. 

Sure shit, Shockwave never had his junk reconstructed. Maybe he underwent additional surgery to completely smooth up his crotch and cover it with a non-opening panel.

Whirl is a more complicated case. I find his reason to live with the dysphoria to draw energy from anger a top-tier concept (and I get it, really). And I'd like to explore the possibility of him becoming a king of plug'n'play. But on the other hand, he just REEKS guy who'd put his dick in someone the first chance he gets. Maybe he saved a bit to get himself a spike. A long and dreadfully ridged one.

(God, I like genital injury being a source of angst and issues, and like characters getting creative in sex. If I'm fine, we'll definitely explore more of it here.)

Y’all think they let you keep your bits when they do empurata? Like is Shockwave all fucked up down there or did they let him keep his schlong and such?

Will you watch Transformers One at the theater?

Not sure if I'll be able to. I wish I could. I'll probably get all the spoilers in the world before i can get my hands on the movie itself.

Out of every Continuity, who is your all time favorite Tf character. Or alternatively, do you have any other all time faves in different fandoms? If so, who and what fandom.

I hope ur having a good day!

About my TF favourites, that's an interesting question. You can ask me at different times and get different answers. I can forget things and then rediscover then from a new, brighter perspective. Characterization itself is often inconsistent in this fandom, so mostly go for specific versions of the characters.

I tend to like Shokwave. He's a fine case of how ambitions may work in a person with enough brain cells (or circuits, in his case). His TFP design is also hot as hell.

I like MTMTE Krok, simply for pointing out one important thing. And for being a good leader, which he rarely gets credits for. I like Cyclonus for pointing out another thing I've grown to find crucial. Dear god, I like Whirl even though his story reveals something I utterly despise. I like Tarn, he's one of the best additions to this universe. (Yeah, you can tell whose work with the characterization I find outstanding, despite its major fuckups.)

I like Ratchet, man's just a sacrifice factory, yet for some reason is known mostly for his grumpy old man personality. I find IDW Arcee charming. And TFP Knock Out has an interesting combination of traits and is also a fine addition to the series.

The list in not exhaustive, that's just who comes to mind right now.

As for my non-TF favorites, well, to name is hell of a task. I like a lot of thigs, so its hard to pick. Like, if we're discussing a certain piece of media (or a genre, or a trope, anything to narrow the topic), it's easier for me to talk about characters than if I'm doing this out of context. (And I'm not sure if I'll make any sense mentioning some Turkish TV series.)

I've mentioned Nicholas Rush from "Stargate: Universe" here, so let it be him. And Shevek from U. K. Le Guin's "The Dispossessed", he has a good point. And I'm watching "Breaking Bad" now, and I've absolutely come to admire Jesse.

Have a good day too!

Hi hello. So, consider G1 Rumble being a humanfucker. Most of the alien's out in the galaxy are the size of the average transformer or larger, and humans are one of the few species smaller than Rumble. So he absolutely wants to dive into some human pussy. He loves how soft and squishy they are, and likes grinding his spike in between thick human thighs

Recent studies suggest our galaxy's diameter to be about 100,000 light years, even without its dark matter halo. And it's still hard to get laid here. Shame.

I remember that episode where Rumble parties with humans a bit. So yeah, why not take it a bit further?

It'd be absolutely hilarious if Rumble has zero knowledge of human gender shit and has a hard time figuring out how to get those with an "organic valve". Should he get more squishy ones? No, probably doesn't work like that. Long-haired ones, maybe? No. Ones that smell better? Nah, still no. But if he gets a human with a different set of genitals, he still can find a use for their thighs.

Ah, running an adult blog legitimately sucks when you also run an adult life and have to deal with tons of shit. Almost any time I open my unfinished drafts, all I can produce is "robot cunt. yeah". Maybe I have to lower my standards for shit I post, otherwise this blog will die in ignominy.

Anyway, fandom, I'd gladly accept some dirty valveplug headcanons and ideas, SFW stuff would be nice too. No writing on my part for now, let's try to chat. I guess.

I'm well acquainted with the G1 cartoon, IDW1, Aligned, Cyberverse. Watched roughly half the first season of Earthspark, also Bayverse (unsure if we could pull anything good from it, but let's maybe give it a chance).

Rules are simple, noncon, prostitution, sexual slavery, sluttification/bimbofication do little to me. Otherwise, I like it kinky, freaky, and nasty.

Three-day trip's over. Saw a potato harvester. Fucking monster. 15 m, 30 t, can carry 15 t of vegetables.

They should have more transformers with agricultural alt-modes. They come in cool shapes and bright colors and will make fine toys. (And maybe could teach children that farming is more fun than war.) In-universe that would be hilarious, though. Imagine being an alien robot feeding on crystal milk and having an alt-mode only suitable for cultivating organic food.

Big girl Ventor 4150.

Drift and Rodimus spending heats together and fucking like bunnies, in multiple rapid rounds in a row, is one of my basic scenarios for these two.

I just want Drift and Rodimus to frag like bunnies across every available surface of a room, in a multitude of positions, for an improbable amount of time

Perhaps because they've been locked in a room together after going into heat, or getting sex pollen'd, as a quarantine procedure? Maybe with Ratchet monitoring remotely... for safety, of course

Well, it eventually resulted into something. A little prelude. Not sure if I should tag this as "dirty talk", shit is just weird. TaraProwl wet bondage adventures. It was hours. Hours of cold rage, frustration, and despair. Prowl was captured, immobilized, swaddled in Tarantulas' sticky web. An inhibitor kept him unable to transform in an attempt to free himself, his T-cog ached from all his fruitless attempts to overcome its effect. And there was another ache growing slowly as his system processed energon that the hideous spider had forcefully filled his tank with earlier.

Prowl was well aware of the eyes watching over his plight, feeding over his suffering. And oh, there was no way Tarantulas didn't know. He knew about how Cybertronians' bodies work enough to change said bodies. He'd changed himself, defaced his own nature. Prowl's fuel system and all its delicate processes were no secret to him. He knew how badly Prowl needed to go.

Prowl was grinding his teeth, feeling tiny gears in his jaw spinning. He could wait. He'd seen worse, right? He wasn't giving Tarantulas what his twisted mind might covet. Ping after ping from his waste tank were ignored, but each one made a tiny needle of fear sting his spark. He in-vented sharply when his internals shifted slightly, giving the reservoir more room to extend. That was bad. He was running out of time. If he is unable to come up, by some miracle, with a plan or if someone doesn't free him, his tank will simply crack. And neither bravado nor autosuggestion about how tough shit of a cop he is will stop his tank's content from spilling out before Tarantulas' twice-damned gaze.

"Enough of your games, Tarantulas, release me!" he groaned finally.

Tarantulas' disturbing body shape separated itself from the shadow on the left. He approached Prowl slowly, savoring the picture.

"You've played my game for so long, and only now you're calling for it to stop? Not because of your precious Autobots waiting for you, but because of your full bladder?"

"Don't call it that!" Prowl barked, flinching at the word choice. Tarantulas' fascination with organic shit was truly off-putting, yet made his consciousness flush with something hot and indistinguishable. 

His waste release duct was spasming, hidden behind the panel, sending heat and vibration to all adjacent systems. His interface array was the closest. His valve was clenching with the force of his need, as in reminiscence of hours and hours of work dragging on, of his gritted teeth, a stirring ache in his pelvic section coming to his processor, dispelling the fog of his dissociation, and a trembling, pitiful relief he got after barely making it to the empty washracks.

And Prowl saw it. A flask in Tarantulas' hand, a hungry twitch of his mandibulas. In his damnation, Prowl cut off the visual input.

Tarantulas was messing with the web below Prowl's waist, careful not to free his captive's legs enough so he could kick. Making Prowl part his thighs and swathing them again, leaving only a small area of his crotch open. Only for Prowl to open his warm panel.

Prowl fought an instant urge to uncover his valve as if it could diminish the pressure in his tank. His sensitive audials picked up the sound of Tarantulas' fleecy paw sliding over the glass of the flask. Prowl's failing systems were sending desperate reports that read all as one: it's over, he is voiding in mere minutes, no matter what. His voice box emitted a broken moan. Something clicked, and he was late to realize that it was his valve cover.

Still voluntarily sightless, Prowl couldn’t see the flask lowering between his legs, where his waste nozzle was placed next to the valve rim, slightly to the left but still close enough to a set of three nodes, one big and two smaller. All three blinking, signaling his heightened charge and his impending defeat. It hurt, and his body tried to arch, the web tugging on the doors behind his back as if to keep him aware of his humiliating pose.

"My dear," Tarantulas' voice was a throaty whisper now. "You know very well that I've surpassed the prejudices of disgust and shame, and nothing in your body or essence can repel me. I observed urination in thousands of species. You are my most beautiful subject, so yours..."

"SHUT UP! You bastard, let me go!" Prowl screeched, uncaring of the hysterical cracks and syncopes in his voice. His brilliant, remarkable memory capable of performing multiple extremely consuming tasks and tracking thousands of targets at the same time, oh, this memory was clogged with one gnawing, swirling, agonizing demand from his excretory system.

For one millisecond, his trapped, exhausted mind considered letting go and striking the damned turpid spider with a stream, wetting his abysmal fleecy body with a mix of pent-up waste energon, slight alcohol scent, and shame. Even shoved away as far as generated, the thought made his insides boil hotter, and a bead of lubricant appeared on the crease between his valve petals. And a dribble came out of his spasming waste duct. Prowl was heaving, creaking his teeth in a futile attempt to hold his bulwark for a minute, a second more. Even if it cost him the last shreds of his dignity when his spike cover reacted to the heat and the pressure pooled in his pelvis and opened, and a wet head poked out. Everything was dull, only his spark and overfilled tank were thrumming in rapid pulses.

"Let me see how you surrender," Tarantulas said to him, and something soft and tickling came right to his activated node for the slightest brush that made Prowl's engine choke on a roar. His tank vibrated, and a dribble turned into a desperate brook in a moment. 

He's voiding into the fucking flask, he realized. Voiding with a mercilessly loud tinkling and gushing sound. With his spike half-emerged from its housing and his valve rippling on nothing. His audials are registered Tarantulas going on about the allure of the process, about Prowl filling the flask so good and providing him with perfect material, but it's like coming from light years away. Prowl was letting out his content in a thick, messy stream, and barely audible whimpers were bleeding from his open mouth. The release was euphoric. Terrifying. His spike was out, his nodes pricked with charge, and his whole neuronet was prepared for something to trigger another response, another release.

It didn't come. Prowl went strong and plentiful into the flask. Then, he could tell by the sound, on the floor, still panting from decreasing pressure. Then it was a trickle that stopped abruptly. 

He activated his optics again to the sight of Tarantulas holding a full flask and examining grayish-blue fluid. Disgust and arousal were interweaving in Prowl, making him so sick for a millisecond he is certain he’d throw up if his fuel tank wasn’t empty.

"Perfect. Even the way you process energon is perfect." Tarantulas said again. "You've provided me with a beautiful harvest of crystals, Prowl. I've always said that we could achieve incredible things together. I have to leave you now to start with the transmutation. Please, be patient, I'll fuel you up later." 

He gave Prowl one last long gaze from top to toe, holding it a tiniest bit longer on the exposed, denied interface array, and silently walked away.

Nice oral is served under the cut. I'm delighted.

Any chance I could get some Scavengers fun times? Spinister getting off by fingering Krok into several overloads or Misfire insisting Fulcrum sit on his face.

WAP on the WAP

Fulcrum pushes Misfire’s face away with a hand over his mouth, feeling energon flood his neck cables as he becomes increasingly flustered by the flier’s words. This, as he expected, doesn’t deter Misfire who continues to babble on even with his mouth firmly covered to Fulcrum’s dismay. The words are muffled but Fulcrum can easily guess what Misfire is spouting from his previous innuendos and lascivious offers.

“I’m not letting you anywhere near my valve!” Fulcrum snaps, keeping Misfire at arm's length.

Misfire’s retort is completely muffled but that doesn’t stop him from going on and on while bobbing his shoulders suggestively. Fulcrum sighs and removes his hand, regretting the action even as he makes it, before crossing his arms to hear Misfire out.

“What’s the hold-up? I just want to get that landing strip slick-”

Fulcrum covers Misfire’s mouth again and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Do you just… not know subtlety?” Fulcrum huffs.

Misfire pulls off with a laugh, pushing Fulcrum’s arm away easily, “Subtlety and I don’t get along… So, why not? Just don’t wanna?”

Scoffing, Fulcrum shakes his head, “I’m just not going to let that mouth get anywhere near this valve.” Fulcrum points down between his legs.

Propping his arm on Fulcrum’s shoulder, Misfire grins, “Aww, I grossed you out that much?”

“No…” Fulcrum flushes, “I just… don’t like to do that sort of thing.”

MIsfire’s wings droop slightly, “Ah, huh, never met anyone who didn’t like having their valve licked clean but I guess someone out there wasn’t going to be down with that sort of thing.”

Rubbing his helm awkwardly, Fulcrum glances away, “Uh, well… I just don’t like doing that sort of thing for other people and that’s why you’re offering, right? You want me to…”

“What?” Misfire holds his hands out as if to brush the words away, shaking his head, “No, no, I… I like doing it for other mechs, especially if they’re as handsome as you.” Tapping his cheek, Misfire turns a bit bashful which is a rare enough sight to pull back Fulcrum’s attention fully, “I, um, maybe like it a bit too much.”

A strange feeling goes down Fulcrum’s spinal strut, “Oh, uh…”

Misfire’s optics go wide, flaring softly as he presses his hands together, pleading his spark out.

Fulcrum shuts his optics and sighs, “You really aren’t asking that I return the favor?”

“I swear! I just want to get my face messy in those soft folds of yours and make you drip lubricant,” Misfire grins cheekily, chuckling at Fulcrum’s groan.

“Fine!” Fulcrum snags Misfire and starts dragging him off to the nearest berth. “If it’ll get you to finally shut up!”

They get to a room on the W.A.P. with Misfire eagerly following Fulcrum like a loyal dog, giggling excitedly as Fulcrum pushes him onto the berth.

Misfire flares his hand dramatically over his mouth, “Your seat, sir.”

While glaring at the flier, Fulcrum hefts himself onto the berth to sit on Misfire’s chest and pops his panels open much to Misfire’s delight.

“Tha’s a tasty looking-”

Fulcrum grabs Misfire’s helm and shoves his face into his valve, “Just shut up and get to work already.”

Misfire couldn’t look happier with a face full of valve as he grabs Fulrum’s thighs to pull him firmly against his mouth, nuzzling in to lick Fulcrum’s anterior node slowly with his wet glossa swirling around the circumference. It’s embarrassing to Fulcrum how quickly he gets wet just watching Misfire bury himself into Fulcrum’s valve and then he feels Misfire swirl his tongue and he has to grip both of his hands over his mouth to keep himself from making any sound. As lubricant meets his lips, Misfire is none the wiser, lapping away at Fulcrum’s valve lips, his glossa lighting up node clusters with slow, purposeful strokes as he takes his time to enjoy the feeling. He groans into Fulcrum’s valve which earns him a small gush of lubricant that he licks up greedily before moving to suck gently on Fulcrum’s anterior node. His hands grip Fulcrum’s thighs more firmly as he feels him begin to twitch, not letting Fulcrum escape the onslaught of his glossa.

The effect that this is having on Misfire is obvious almost immediately, his spike fully pressurizing as he slips the tip of his glossa into Fulcrum’s entrance, feeling the calipers there starting to clench. He circles the entrance, moaning at the crackling charge that tickles his glossa as he presses it to the soft mesh there dotted with sporadic node clusters and he can feel his spike throb. Fulcrum grabs his spike and squeezes which only urges Misfire on, unable to think as well with Fulcrum’s hand pumping him while he licks mindlessly against Fulcrum’s anterior node. Trying his best to not just overload over Fulcrum’s hand, he moves his glossa back to Fulcrum’s tasty entrance, releasing a buzz of charge from his intake into Fulcrum’s valve, getting him to stiffen up with a shout that has Misfire’s spark melting.

Fulcrum holds onto Misfire for dear life, his digits digging into the flier’s shoulders as he feels Misfire lazily frag him with an eager glossa that hungrily seeks out his nodes only to graze them teasingly. Suddenly, he’s on his back but he doesn’t care with Misfire softly sucking on his anterior node as he nudges it with glossa, keeping a steady flow of charge coursing through his valve that has him completely incoherent. Then, Misfire slides a digit into his entrance and strokes his spike while he keeps that sinful mouth on Fulcrum’s node, easily tipping Fulcrum into overload who grabs Misfire’s helm, pressing Misfire hard against his valve. He humps Misfire’s face, riding out his overload panting and moaning with abandon.

Once spent, Fulcrum lays back with his vents on full blast and immediately regrets looking down where he finds Misfire licking his lips, his face completely drenched in lubricant.

“Good, huh?”

Fulcrum stiffens up and clears his intake, “It was alright. I guess…”

Misfire pushes up a bit and Fulcrum blushes at the sight of Misfire’s still-twitching spike covered in transfluid above a quickly forming puddle, “Well, I certainly had a good time.”

“I… I see…”

Ducking down to kiss Fulcrum’s valve, “Primus, this thing is great.”

Fulcrum pushes at Misfire’s forehelm only to be met with laughter, “Don’t talk about it like that!”

“Oh? Should I shut myself up again?” Misfire smirks.

Freezing, Fulcrum thinks it over but not for as long as he’d have liked to, and nods, yelping softly when Misfire buries himself back into Fulcrum’s valve.

What they say: "Scarlett brings Scarlett into the [Elita] role."

What I hear: "People have every right to hate celebs trying voice acting and deny them even a chance to prove they're worth something. Lazy ass motherfuckers aren't even trying to pretend they study a character and put even a iota of work to explore how to portray them without pushing their famous persona EVERYWHERE. They shouldn't be encouraged to safely try something new while they don't have to worry about being trapped in poverty and losing their income. We don't expect our paid actors to, ya know, act. Praise poor-spirited, mediocre shit!" As god is my witness, I can't wait to see the movie, but shit they say in promo is kinda sad.

Had a taste of Skybound. Not calling it "good comic", this writing was shit. They should just hire ficwriters, at least they know how to recycle fandom tropes and memes properly. Seriously, if a guy I hired for money produced this and then there were anon MegOp shippers online birthing out gems after full-time shifts of their shitwork outdoing my official content, I'd totally rethink what I do with my intellectual property. (Sadly, humanizing corps leads you nowhere.) If only I had time to thank and celebrate all the authors making my fandom experience better the way they deserve. They're doing god's job. (Maybe I could do a rec list one day.)

Ravage's death is one of the lamest shit in the story. Him living a suffering with some kind of body integrity dysphoria or just his body scheme being fucked up instead would've had more potential.

stares into the distance. thinking about my "ravage lives" au again where both ravage and megatron are dealing with their own frames failing them. megatron having been rebuilt time and time again and is now in a body that is no longer his own, that he doesn't feel connected to, that has no bite. ravage having a body that no longer serves its original purpose- what purpose does a cassette serve without a host? and when did ravage start seeing his frame as something that needed to have a use rather than just being him?

there are sections of megatron's frame that he cannot feel anymore. the very ends of his fingers, a joint here, a panel there. his plating feels loose against his protoform; there is no connection between his spark and his shell. and ravage dealing with the aftermath of being torn in half by tarn. his legs and spinal strut were rebuilt, of course, but it's not the same. none on the lost light are specialized in the care of a cassette's frame. sometimes his spine is stiff, sometimes his legs lock up, sometimes he aches. and sometimes he can't move at all; forced to depend on those around him and despising the dependency of it.

idk im rambling. i just think about them a lot.

My loved one's made me start watching "Stargate: Universe" with him. We're both unfamiliar with the rest of the franchise, just here for Robert Carlyle's acting. What can I say?

Between two stories about going to god knows where on an old mysterious ship full of surprizes, they definitely had more fun on the Lost Light. At least they had a bar.

Also, Nicolas Rush's character makes me lament (a bit) Perceptor in MTMTE being stripped of his "still waters run deep" personality and made into just an aloof nerd. I really love complex, morally and ethically ambiguous scientists who don't fall into the "mad scientist" archetype. Which I also love, if done tastefully and not stormed with some boring clichés like evil gloating and world dominance for the sake of world dominance, that sucks.

But that's why I've appreciated the twist with Brainstorm. He had a good point.

(Also, the Rush vs. Young subplot is slowly growing on me. Authors should never be shy of giving their characters some chemistry though rivalry, where deeper lies the understanding, the respect. It can be worth it.)