#But if it's sand then it's not a solid mass the same way. You can't stop it or break it the same way

[moongothic]

Going back to this thing briefly

When adapting this chapter into an episode Toei did not explain nor demonstrate to us what the fuck that spike was (instead they gave us Sables #378545), so we're no closer to finding out what kinda new moves Crocodile might have up his sleeve, whether that really was a Haki-infused sand spike or what

But when I was checking the melting point of sand out of curiosity (to figure out if Crocodile has a fighting chance against Akainu, which in theory he does because Akainu isn't hot enough to melt sand (in theory)), I was reminded of the fact that sand is mostly made of silica

Or, in other words, quartz. Sand is, on average, made of crystal. Of course, sand is also made of other things and other minerals (not just quartz), but if we wanted to assume Croc's DF is made of one element and one element alone, then let's just assume it's 100% silica, right

And now I can't help but to wonder now though

Could Crocodile have learned a new technique where he somehow compresses and hardens his sand so much it can turn into large, solid crystals? Or more specifically, sharp pointy stabby weapons to murder people with? 'Cause. How fucking cool would that be

Also considdering how much Crocodile likes his bling, being able to form crystals to murder people with would arguably be on-brand for him

[ckret2]

Violet/Violent

Part 1, Hybrid Cultivar: Jonah’s got a Ghidorah head and he’s not afraid to clone it. Or, failing that, whatever stray biological matter his reluctant team of scientists finds inside of it.

Part 2, Violet/Violent: Dr. Shiragami and his fellow scientists are the proud accidental creators of an impossibility: a fusion between a rose, a human, and Godzilla. But Jonah doesn’t want a miracle. He wants a monster.

(KOTM one-shot, part 2 of 3. Stay tuned for part 3... *checks writing to-do list* ...eventually! If you want to read my other fics set in this KOTM ‘verse, click here.)

###

The pet rose/titan/human hybrid of Alan Jonah's gang of variously bribed and blackmailed scientists was growing faster than any of them had ever anticipated.

Her height had been holding steady for the last week, although she was still accruing foliage that spread her out sideways: an ever-spreading tangle of vines and branches. A matted mass of leaves enveloped the majority of her body like crocodilian scales or like great flakey layers of skin. They told themselves it was a mass of leaves, anyway. It was easier to look at her when they thought of the curtain of mass that made up her "hide" as "plant mimicking flesh" rather than as "flesh mutated to resembled plant," but in truth it was, by all measures—genetically, chemically, cellularly—a fusion of both plant and flesh into something entirely unprecedented and entirely new, in the same way that a mix of blue paint and yellow paint was neither "blue imitating yellow" nor "yellow imitating blue" but simply "green."

At most times, she was about seven feet tall, and typically she moved by undulating across the ground on vines and roots with motions like something between a millipede and a beached octopus. Other times, she pulled the thicket of her body in tight, weaving vines together like muscles and branches like bones, reshaping herself into something hunched but clearly bipedal, with stocky legs and a long thick tail and an array of grasping vines like undersized arms; and like that she stood just over ten feet tall. Most rarely, she would pull her vines and branches even tighter together into an even more solid form, stretching her legs long, straightening her back, lifting her head, sacrificing stability for height—until she stood fifteen feet tall, eerily humanoid, tottering like a toddler learning to walk. But a thick, crude, simple approximation of a human, like a golem made of trees rather than clay.

Back when she'd been about the size of a basketball, they'd started testing her for human intelligence—speaking to her, showing her books for children, seeing whether she could be taught to read and write. Within minutes of being shown a thick cardboard picture book meant to teach the alphabet, she'd seized up a marker and began scribbling letters on every surface she could reach—including letters she hadn't yet been shown. They still wondered if she'd observed them in the lab, if she'd perhaps picked them up from the scientists through some sort of as yet unidentified telepathic sense, or if she remembered them.

Dr. Shiragami suspected she remembered. He had no objective proof of this. Just a feeling, an uneasy feeling, that there was something observing them through the hybrid's strange small eyes; something that, although not human, once had been—and could recall that past life. An ex-human staring out at her former peers from the other side of death.

The letter she wrote most often was V.

She'd write it on a wall and stand beneath it, or on the floor and stand before it, as if using its tip to point at herself. Dr. Shiragami wondered what had been the name of the human whom Monster Zero had devoured and whose DNA had been used for their accidental cloning project.

He had nicknamed their rose/titan/human hybrid "Violet"—he thought that perhaps her name had once started with V, and without any idea what it was, the name of a flower seemed fitting. In his accent, when he wasn't careful, it came out as "Bioretto," which was how it caught on with the other scientists working with her; and the name drifted over the days to "Biorante" until her official name in their documentation on here was changed at last to "unknown Godzilla genetic sample" to "Biollante."

Dr. Shiragami thought the name sounded too much like "violent."

A true golem, made of clay, had two letters written on its head that meant "death." Writing a third letter changed the word to "truth" and brought the inanimate figure to life; removing the letter changed it back to "death" and put the figure back to sleep.

He hoped that, unlike a true golem, adding a letter to her name wouldn't change her nature.

###

"Dr. Shiragami, I did not bring you on to work with Monster Zero so that you could play with a walking plant."

"I work in genetics, sir. Genetics with a specialization in botany. You brought me on to gene sequence an alien that doesn't have genes."

"Hm." Jonah was staring through the observation window into the room they'd set up for Biollante. It was little more than a large room with a soft dirt floor and a skylight, with a water pipe she could work herself, a board to write on, and plastic playground equipment for lack of a better idea of what kind of enrichment a titan-plant-human needed. It was apparently insufficient entertainment; she was currently amusing herself by struggling to lift up and tip over a plastic playhouse designed to look like a castle. She'd fit in the play castle just a few weeks ago, but now it came up to her thighs when she was humanoid.

Dr. Shiragami said, "There's nothing I can do with an alien head without DNA in it, but there's—there's plenty I can do with a plant. A remarkable plant that consists of a genetic splice between three unspliceable species. I'm helping in what way I can—"

"Except you're not helping, doctor, are you? Because my objective is not to create novel freaks of nature; it's to get back on track with unleashing something that can combat the biggest extinction level event in this planet's history, i.e., us. So unless this creature you're wasting my time and resources on can do that—" Jonah suddenly fell silent. He watched wordlessly as the miniature titan knocked over a miniature castle. "Can this creature do that, doctor?"

"I'm sorry?"

"How tall is it going to get? Do you know?"

Dr. Shiragami's throat went dry.

"Has it displayed any violent tendencies?" Jonah went on. "Or are we going to have to train them into it?"

"You can't—"

"Can't I? Will you stop me?" Jonah asked. "What have you got, a doctorate? I've got men with guns."

"This is a living creature! Possibly a person—"

"You know how I feel about people."

"—A child. And a completely new form of life on top of that! I won't help you turn her into a monster."

"Fine," Jonah said. "You're welcome to resign at any time. I wish you the best of luck finding another way to fund your daughter's medical treatment."

Shiragami's blood ran cold.

"I'll leave you alone to think it over, shall I?" Jonah nodded to him and walked away.

Shiragami stared through the window at Biollante.

###

Biollante sprayed spores when she was upset, a thin sickly yellow haze of pollen. It made the scientists' and soldiers' eyes burn and throats close up. They now approached Biollante with pollen-filtering masks and goggles.

The facility hadn't been airtight when they made the discovery. Now it was, but not soon enough to prevent the spores from spreading for miles around them in every direction, settling into the sand, nearly invisible.

The desert was blooming. Trees and shrubs and vines shot into the sky, every species in the Rosaceae family they had ever tried to feed Biollante: roses and rowans and hawthorns, apples and almonds and peaches, more and more and more.

Somewhere in the Sahara, such an immediate reversal to desertification might have been a miracle.

If not for the fact that Biollante's spawn consisted of uncontrolled invasive species.

And at any rate—Jonah had not decided to hide his facility in that part of the Sahara.

Over five thousand years ago, the Sahara had been green. In fifteen thousand years, as the Earth's axis tilted, it would become green again. But even a green Sahara was mostly savannah, covered in shrubs and grasses, able to support clusters of trees only near deep water. The Sahara had never been jungles, never been rainforests. And some portions of the desert, even at the Sahara's wettest, remained desert still—such as the sea of sand dunes shared by Egypt and Libya.

Here, deep in the Sahara's heart, its truth, its natural, its healthy, its correct was desert. This was the part of the Sahara where there always had been, always would be, and always should be desert. A forest—a dry jungle of woody shrubby plants—would choke out the native species, destroy the local ecology, disrupt the weather patterns, displace the nomadic people that called the desert home. Everything about this part of the Sahara, from the temperature to the complete lack of precipitation to the nutrients in the loose sand, was unable to support a single one of the trees now growing there, much less so many.

Nevertheless, the forest spitefully flourished.

Like a fungus in a sack of flour, like a tumor in a heart.

And Biollante grew as well.

The scientists, even under Jonah's blackmail, were reluctant to harm her; so it was Jonah's soldiers who had learned via experimentation what could force her to fight. Fire—first only when it was thrust directly into her vines, but soon they trained her to lash out at the mere sight of it. Weedkiller, but only certain kinds—they'd tried so many different ones, seeing how she took each poison. Flashing blue lights. Recordings of the cries of MUTOs. Being presented with the dead head of Ghidorah, the monster that had devoured the things she was made from.

Dr. Shiragami was sure that Biollante must remember her past lives. Remember being Godzilla. Remember being human. Perhaps even remember being a rose—what did they know of the memories of flowers? Shiragami suspected plants remembered far more than humans gave them credit for.

The sight of Ghidorah made her struggle the hardest and roar the loudest. Once she'd been forced into the room with the dead head, she never cooperated with her keepers again. Now, the mere sight of humans was enough to enrage her.

She fought with spores, with choking vines, with cutting thornlike teeth. She fought with screams that they thought might have been an instinctive attempt to use Godzilla's atomic breath. These roars were horrible things, like Godzilla bellowing in rage and a woman wailing in pain and a tree splintering and falling all at once; they suspected she was twisting and snapping branches inside of her own body to make the sounds. She would no longer let anyone close enough to her to check.

Shiragami was only one remaining out of the original scientists that had been working with Biollante. All of the others either had been killed or else left—some in fear for their lives, but most in protest against what they were doing to a creature they knew deserved better. Shiragami now had new coworkers who cared much less. He would have left too—if not for his daughter, and if not for the fact that he thought someone should be working with Biollante who cared about what happened to her.

Even if he knew he wasn't doing anything to help.

They expanded her containment room when they could, but there was only so much they could do so fast when a facility that had been designed to camouflage into sand dunes was still trying to remain hidden now that it was in the center of a desiccated forest that it seemed the whole world was watching. She was too large to relocate without anyone noticing. Jonah ordered her nutrients be cut off—water only—in an attempt to slow her growth; in return, she began killing and devouring any humans that entered her enclosure. When they stopped entering, she burrowed her roots straight through the concrete foundation of the facility and deep down, they suspected perhaps even into the bedrock below.

As she grew so tall her head brushed the fifty foot skylights over her prison, she stopped using her humanoid form; as she kept growing still, she stopped using her bipedal form. Her prison cell was nothing but a mass of tangled vines, filling the room, brushing the walls. Vines—and sometimes teeth, gnashing between leaves and within blooms as she crashed branches through doors and felt her way down the halls.

Inside Jonah's facility, Biollante threatened to push them all out. Outside the unnatural forest, Monarch exploration crews backed by Egyptian and Libyan forces ventured into freakishly tall trees, as did curious or annoyed locals who wanted to know what strange forest had just appeared in the middle of their desert; it wouldn't be long until someone found the hidden facility.

Between Biollante and the investigating humans, Shiragami hoped Jonah was going to be pinched in the middle.

Jonah had what he wanted now that Biollante had been changed from a docile child into a wild animal. Shiragami wondered if Jonah had any idea how to tame her again. Surely he didn't.

For his daughter's sake, Shiragami would stay until the end, whether that end came from Biollante or Monarch; but for his other daughter's sake, he hoped she crushed Jonah beneath her roots when she escaped.

In the past couple of days, the bud of a rose ten feet long had emerged where her head had once been, up near the skylights.

Shiragami was sure it wouldn't be long now until she broke free. As soon as the rose bloomed.

###

(Click here for my masterlist of fics set in this KOTM verse, as well as my AO3 and Ko-fi links. If you enjoyed the fic, I’d appreciate a reblog or comment!)