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catboybiologist · 10 months ago

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Alright I can't finish this all in one sitting, but here's at least a bit of.... something? A word vomit? A prelude to smut about the eroticism of the machine? For all you robot, mecha, and spaceship fuckers out there. @k1nky-r0b0t-g1rl that means you

Pappy always said that manufacturing biological transportation was nothing knew. I mean, shit, humanity's been breeding horses for how long? To him, not much was novel about what was going on in the shipyards way out by Neptune when I was a kid.

But Pappy didn't know a lot of things. And he certainly didn't meet Roseanna.

The Federation Navy had experimented with biologics for decades. The idea was to create self regenerating ships- something to interface with the hull, move the new titanium plates and particulates into place, have a living, growing mass interfacing with the steel so that the ship didn't have to head all the way back to the yards to patch up after every dogfight.

The first generation... worked. With a full time crew, that is. Full time people on deck jabbin the rigid, chitonous interface with the hull full of growth hormones to get them to set just right. Full time onboard bioengineers to compute what signaling cocktail ya need to hit 'em with to get it to grow back right. Skilled onboard technicians to shave back the chitin when it tried to overgrow the titanium, and slap some new cells in to seed the process in heavily damaged areas. Less input material, less time in the yards, but far more manpower. Great for a Federation cruiser on deep space peacekeeping missions. Far too complex for small craft. Right?

Until some bastard put brains in 'em.

Well. A lotta suits would say that they weren't brains. They were a diffuse network of sensory neurons and ganglia, living inside the body of the ship, integrating signals from a skin of alloyed metal and fibrous protein, calculating power draw too and from various components, and integrating with the mechanical and electrical components of the ship to precisely manage the "wound healing" process of the vessel. And of course, it just so happened that one of those ganglia was larger and more complex than the rest of them, and it just so happened that the computer interfaces with this ganglia exhibit complex, thinking behaviors on the level of human cognition, and it just so happens that most pilots and navigators reported them developing their own personalities.....

But of course, the Navy didn't want anyone to have some kind of pesky empathy in the way of their operations. And they certainly didn't want anyone side eyeing the rate at which they disposed of the damn things, and let them suffer and rot after disposal. So as far as the official record was concerned, they didn't have brains.

Like most people in the belt, I found Rosie on a... unsponsored field trip to the Neptune scrap yards. She wasn't a ship then. She wasn't much of anything. Not much more than a vat with the central ganglia and just barely enough of the stem cells needed to regrow a network. But I took her all the same. Brains were valuable. Few pilots outside the Navy had them back then. Nowadays, a black market for "brain seeds", a cocktail of neuronal stem cells and enough structural stem cells to grow your own into the chassis of your ship. They were pumpin' em out, and leaving them to die. It was cruel. They may be vehicles, but they're a livin' being too.

But I digress. I'd never do that to Roseanna. I make sure she gets proper care. And for a good, proper, working ship? That includes some good, proper work.

The asteroid we were docked in was one of my usuals- good bars, nice temp quarters, nice views of the rock's orbiting twin, and a spacious hanger for Rosie to rest in. The chasiss I had imprinted Roseanna to was a 40-meter light skipper, with some adjustments for handling deep space trips. It was pretty much the smallest thing you could actually use to live and work for long periods of time, but it got the job done. The angular design made the entire ship look like a wedge, or the blade of a bulky dagger. It didn't hurt that each bottom edge was fortified with a sharpened titanium blade, turning the entire sides of the ship into axe-like rams.

Those would probably come in handy today.

I approached Roseanna on the catwalk above her, marveling her alloyed scales. I could almost see her shudder in anticipation as my footsteps vibrated through the air above her. I took the steps down, and hit the trigger to open her top hatch.

When the news got out of the Navy scuffling with a rebelling mining station, an electric air raced across the station. Some went about their day as normal. Some resigned themselves to picking at the leftovers after the dust had settled. And some, like me, knew that they could get the finest pickings.

I strapped in to the pilot's seat like it was an old boot.

"Welcome, Captain Victoria."

Rosie could talk, but more often than not, she chose not to. But she understood me just fine. Most of our communication took place using her three prerecorded lines- her welcome statement, affirmative, and negative- as well as the tiny screen showing a small, emoticon face. Many pilots chose to give their ships an elaborate render, but Rosie preferred it this way. It was the first face I gave her, from somewhere out of the scrap heaps, and she refused any offer I made to upgrade. Secretly, I was overjoyed. To me, that was her face. That was her voice. And it was beautiful to see her true self through them.

I brushed my hands across her paneling. Across the switches, the hydraulic controls for the plasma fuel, the steering, the boosts, the comms channels. The thing with biologics was that you were still the pilot. For whatever reason, they hadn't quite gotten to the point where the brains could take over their own piloting. My personal opinion was just that their personalities lacked the ambition to. But whatever reason that was, the best pilots were still the ones that knew both their ship, and the ship's brain. And me and Rosie? We knew each other well.

As my fingers touched the brushed aluminum controls, rimmed with chitinous layers rooting them into the ship, I could feel the walls around me holding their invisible breath. "Do you know what we're doing today, Rosie?"

Her tiny panel flickered on. ...?

"We got a scrap run."

^_^

Her panel flicked between various expressions of excitement. My finger quivered on the main power, holding for a moment before flicking it on. The primary electronics of the ship hummed to life, and what Rosie controlled pulsed with it. My hands moved across the main functional panels- main hydraulic plasma valve, exhaust ports open, and finally, flicking the switch the start the plasma burner.

My hands gripped the steering. The hanger's airlock doors opened in front of me. My neck length hair started to float as the station's gravity shut off. I hit the switch to unlatch from the supports above. For a moment, we hang there. The dull crackle of the idling plasma burner is the only sound that resonates through Rosie's hull.

Go time.

I punch the boost.

#eroticism of the machine #robot girl #mecha girl #spaceship girl #the fuck do I even tag this LOL #yall gotta tag this and make sure it gets to the right spaces for me okay

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hi-sierra · 7 months ago

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Biologics, chapter 0.5

Hello, hello! I finally have added a significant amount to my story, Biologics, resulting in a total of ~4400 words. Not a whole ton, I know, but unfortunately life gets to ya. It isn't quite where I want it to be to consider a proper chapter one, but I feel like there's enough written for me to post. General warning that this is intended to heavily lean into the theme of "eroticism of the machine", so if that doesn't appeal to you, you've been warned. It does, however, have many general sci fi worldbuilding elements, so I hope it has a somewhat broad appeal!

So yes, if you already read the first snippet, that's going to be mostly a one to one repeat with some grammatical adjustments. Feel free to scroll down until you get to the new stuff. Flow-wise, there just wasn't a good place to break between the two sections.

Look at me rambling. And I wonder why I can't get any of this stuff done. Anyways, here it is!

Biologics

But Pappy didn't know a lot of things. And he certainly didn't meet Roseanna.

The Federation Navy had experimented with Biologics for decades. The idea was to create self regenerating ships- organic matter that interfaced with the hull, moving new titanium plates and patches into place down to microscopic precision. If you had a living, growing mass interfacing with steel, a ship didn't have to head all the way back to the yards to patch up after every dogfight.

The first generation... worked. With a full time crew, that is. Full time people on deck jabbin the rigid, chitonous matrix full of growth hormones to get them to set just right. Full time onboard bioengineers to compute what signaling cocktail ya need to hit 'em with to get it to grow back right. Skilled onboard technicians to shave back the chitin when it tried to overgrow the titanium, and slap some new cells in to seed the process in heavily damaged areas. Less input material, less time in the yards, but far more manpower. Great for a Federation cruiser on deep space peacekeeping missions. Far too complex for small craft. Right?

Until some bastard put brains in 'em.

Well. A lotta suits would say that they weren't brains. They were a diffuse network of sensory neurons and ganglia, living inside the body of the ship, integrating signals from a skin of alloyed metal and fibrous protein, calculating power draw too and from various components, integrated with the mechanical and electrical components of the ship to precisely manage the "wound healing" process of the vessel. And of course, it just so happened that one of those ganglia was larger and more complex than the rest of them, and it just so happened that the computer interfaces with this ganglia exhibit complex, thinking behaviors on the level of human cognition, and it just so happens that most pilots and navigators reported them developing their own personalities.....

But of course, the Navy didn't want anyone to have some kind of pesky empathy in the way of their operations. And they certainly didn't want anyone side eyeing the rate at which they disposed of the damn things, just to let them suffer and rot. So as far as the official record was concerned, they weren't brains. But I knew different.

Like most people in the belt, I found Rosie on an... unsponsored field trip to the Neptune scrap yards. She wasn't a ship then. She wasn't much of anything. Not much more than a vat with the central ganglia and just barely enough of the stem cells needed to regrow a network. But I took her all the same. Brains were valuable. Few pilots outside the Navy had them back then. Nowadays, a black market for "brain seeds", a cocktail of neuronal stem cells and enough structural stem cells to grow your own into the chassis of your ship, was thriving. The Navy was pumpin' em out, and leaving them to die. It was cruel. Sometimes, being scavenged and resold was a kinder fate. But more often, some nasty piece of work would pick them up eventually, and treat them like just another goddamn ship. They may be vehicles, but they're a livin' being too.

I digress. I'd never do that to Roseanna. I make sure she gets proper care. And for a good, proper, working ship? That includes some good, proper work.

The asteroid we were docked in was one of my usuals- good bars, nice temp quarters, nice views of the rock's orbiting twin, and a spacious hanger for Rosie to rest in. The chassis I had imprinted Roseanna to was a 40-meter light skipper, with some adjustments for handling deep space trips, as well as some... personal touches. It was pretty much the smallest thing you could actually use to live in and work for long periods of time, but it got the job done. The angular design made the entire ship look like a wedge, or the blade of a bulky dagger. It didn't hurt that each bottom edge was fortified with a sharpened titanium blade, turning the entire sides of the ship into axe-like rams.

Those would probably come in handy today.

I slipped into the pilot's seat like it was an old boot.

"Welcome, Captain Victoria."

Rosie could talk, but more often than not, she chose not to. But she understood me just fine. Most of our communication took place using her three prerecorded lines- her welcome statement, affirmative, and negative- as well as a tiny screen showing a small, emoticon face. Many pilots chose to give their ships an elaborate render, but Rosie preferred it this way. It was the first face I gave her, from somewhere out of the scrap heaps, and she refused any offer I made to upgrade. Hell, she even had a hi-res screen for external cameras and comms, but she refused to interface directly with it. Secretly, I was overjoyed. To me, the little pixelated screen was her face. That was her voice. And it was beautiful to see her true self through them.

I brushed my hands across her paneling. Across the switches, the hydraulic controls for the plasma fuel, the steering, the boosts, the comms channels. The thing with Biologics was that you were still the pilot. For whatever reason, they hadn't quite gotten to the point where the brains could take over their own piloting. My personal opinion was just that their personalities lacked the ambition to. Cuz they certainly could take over some ships functions directly, and had the skill to do complex mechanical and electrical tasks. The Navy never let 'em drive, though, and most pilots didn't even know they could give them the ability to control any of the ships functions directly. But with a little help, a little bit of solid engineering, and a pilot that knew their ship... well, you could do a lot. And me and Rosie? We knew each other well. Over the years, I'd added some nice things for her, and she loved using them to help me out.

As my fingers touched the brushed aluminum controls, rimmed with chitinous layers affixing them to the ship, I could feel the walls around me holding their invisible breath. "Do you know what we're doing today, Rosie?"

Her tiny panel flickered on.

[...?]

"We got a scrap run."

[ ^_^]

[ :) ]

[ ^_^ ]

Her panel flicked between various expressions of excitement. My finger quivered on the main power, holding for a moment before flicking it on. The primary electronics of the ship hummed to life, and the parts Rosie controlled pulsed with it. My hands moved across the main functional panels- main hydraulic plasma valve, exhaust ports open, and finally, flicking the switch the start the plasma burner.

Go time. I punch the boost.

The station shakes. Rosie was never a subtle one.

The mechanics are deafened.

The crowd of spectators are deafened.

The other pilots in the hanger are deafened.

But me? The vibrations of Rosie's hull shuddering under me was the sweetest symphony my ears ever had the pleasure of hearing. As we shot out of that hanger, I found myself involuntarily humming a high note, harmonizing with the sweet rumble of my baby's acceleration as we shoot out into the inky, black expanse of space. The twin asteroids shot by us as we disappeared, leaving only the faint blue plasma trail from our engines.

My hand is firm on the boost, weathered hands tightly gripping the bar of the accelerator. I remember installing this thing in her- it was an aftermarket adjustment, not included in the usual light skipper chassis. Gently stripping away the back of her chassis, caressing her insides as I rooted the paneling, firmly attaching the tanks and burners on her insides... these hands had taken great pleasure in that. Bested only, of course, by the first time I had felt the thing roar to life.

And what a feeling it was. Rosie's entire chassis, biological and mechanical, shuddering under my grasp. The grip of my calloused hands on the boost controls, tight and sweaty around the ridged grip of the horizontal bar. The noises she made, as if to shout in glee and wild abandon at being unchained and let loose into the eternal field of space, as she was made to do. The gentle touch of her skin on my back, my body pressed in contact with the small fraction of hers that was my seat. I glanced down at her face panel.

[ :| ]

[ :D ]

[ :| ]

[ :D ]

[ :| ]

[ :D ]

[ :| ]

[ :D ]

My humming gave way to a chuckle, and then a wholehearted, exhilarated laugh. Someone was enjoying herself. The flickering faces on her panel reminded me of the happily panting station dogs back on Mars.

But as much as I would like this to just be a joyride, I had promised Rosie a scrap run. And the pickings were looking good. I glanced down at the nav. I was intentionally headed at a slightly indirect angle- Rosie's boost was her main attractive feature (both as a ship, and as a working partner), and the extra leeway I had in travel time let me strategize a bit more. I doubted we would be the first people there, but I figured we could get in before the main rush. The only trouble was darting in and grabbing something right from under the noses of the first locusts. The scrap field in question included a disabled heavy mining freighter, a goliath of the ship larger than some of the asteroids it made supply runs between. I assumed that most other scavengers would be approaching directly from our station, and the other stations in its proximity. With Rosie's boost, we could overshoot, hook around, and put the freighter in between us and the guns of the more violent craft. Rosie has no long range weapons of any kind- not only would they slow down her miraculous speed, but she didn't like them. I tried installing a small plasma cannon once, and she expressed immense distaste. Maybe they were too brutish for her, or maybe she didn't like the way they felt inside her, burdening her with pressure from the inside that didn't befit the delicate touches I usually graced her with. Rosie loved speed, precision, elegance, and stealth above all else. It's just the kind of ship she was.

That's not to say she was a pacifist, or defenseless. Quite the contrary. She just prefers a more... personal touch.

The navicom beeped at me. We'd reached the point where we needed to make that hook. My bare feet gently swept across the titanium flooring to the steering pedals. My right hand delicately gripped the steering joystick, while my left eased its grip on the boost accelerator.

"Ready for this, darling?"

[ >:) ]

I slammed the steering to the left, and Rosie gleefully complied. The wide bank of the turn as we rotated and soared through the sea of stars twisted my body in its inertia, compressing me further into her. As the angle straightened out to the proper heading, I punched the boost again, and Rosie roared forward.

Slowly, our target came into sight. Damn. This thing had taken some serious damage. Mining freighters typically weren't heavily armored- their only job was to get material from point A to B- but this one had clearly been through some serious modifications. Modifications that now lay in ruin. Titanium plating was scattered in a field around the core of the freighter. I couldn't quite tell what was stuff left behind by the battle, and what was the result of shoddy craftmanship- but it didn't matter. What did matter was that the entire thing had been split almost in half, and the scattered cargo that was leaking out. Cargo that most likely included half the weapon supplies of this little rebel faction. Would fetch a pretty penny, to the right buyer. And hell, if it was just gonna sit here unclaimed...

Ah shit. It wasn't gonna sit here unclaimed. Despite my best efforts, it looks like we weren't the first ones here. A larger scavenger gang had already arrived, and it looks like it was one of the ones I knew- Augustus and his lot. Most likely, they'd be after the weapons intact, one more thing to use to shakedown the scattered independent stations I always flitted between. He would not be happy to see me n Rosie here. What he called his "fleet" was a single, mid-sized carrier ship, about half the size of the freighter we were looting, and the dozen or so scout fighters and strip mining crafts he had looted from the Navy and various corps, and one Biologic that he called his. I respect that part, to be honest. What I don't respect is him immediately turning around and using that charge every goddamn station his ever-increasing "protection fees". Not to mention my personal disdain for the way he treated his ship. Didn't even give her a damn name. I digress. But any chance to loot something from under that slimebag's nose was a win in my book. I knew he wasn't gonna make it easy, though.

Welp. That's what our positioning was for. The side facing us was the main starboard face, and like the rest of the ship, it was peppered in small holes and gashes. Seems like the main damage had happened from the other side, and a few cables and scaffolds on the starboard just barely kept the two rear cargo compartments clinging to the front.

"Alright Rosie, time to creep it in slow. Be quiet, now, don't want them picking up a plasma surge"

[ :| ]

Ha. That was her "my lips are sealed" face. She's having fun with this already.

I cut the booster, coasting closer and closer to the bust open vessel. I eased the reverse thrusters ever so slightly, my fingers gently stroking the dual brake levers, lightly teasing at them to wait until we were as close as I thought we could be without attracted attention.......... before slamming both sides back towards me. For just one, crucial moment.

The goal here was to approximately match the speed and trajectory of a floating piece of titanium plating. Rosie's frontal blades were essentially that, anyways, so all they would see is a somewhat more angular piece of rubble. Hopefully they hadn't seen that same piece of rubble screaming out of travel speed, but I was cautious enough with my distances that I didn't think that was a problem. And they hadn't seen me yet. Once we were close enough to the freighter itself, we were blocked from their raw sightline, and Rosie was running quiet enough to not tip off any of their energy sensors.

But there was still no guarantee. Rosie, however, had no shortage of tricks. Something that she and I had developed together was a nice little bit of snooping. Well cared for and well trained, a Biologic brain had the problem solving of a human, and the computational power of a machine. But them together, and you've got a perfect decoder. And I happened to know that Augustus used an encrypted local frequency to keep his

"Alright Rosie, thinkin you can eavesdrop a little?"

Affirmative.

[...]

[..!]

My comms crackled to life. "...7 heavy cannons in center-front portside bay, 3 replacement fighter hatchs...."

The comms crackled back and forth, with each pilot giving updates to what they were finding in their own little segment that they were slicing apart. Occasionally, I saw Augustus or the fighters flick between the slicing ships, overseeing their progress on the port bays. Good. Let them focus on the other side for now. Slowly, the fleet was overshadowed by the freighter. We made it. I released my breath- shit, didn't realize I was holding it- and took a better look at what we were dealing with. It looked as if the scattered debris field had mostly been the remnants of the hull, as well as light weapons for small craft and even infantry. They would fetch some small change, sure, but Rosie's cargo capacity was small. Packing efficiency was the name of the game. I saw the gash that it had all been flooding out of on this side- the entire freighter was covered in them- and peered inside. And ho boy, did my heart flutter.

Heavy cannons.

Jump-graded travel boosters.

Raw, precious metals.

And, hidden in the back corner, seemingly bolted into the wall.... a brain.

We'd hit jackpot, and potentially rescued a poor ship from abandonment, or worse.

"Alright Rosie. Time to get to work."

Affirmative.

And here was another lil something that made Rosie special- her manipulation arms . She always preferred that delicate touch, and wanted to interact with the world in a tactile, real way. So we worked on it. Together. I was tired of taking spacewalks to grab small pieces of scrap, or using the entire goddamn cargo bay on a piece that only had a tiny core, or scraps of precious metals inside. So we needed something that could pluck apart our finds. Do some light disassembly in the field, extract what was valuable, and load it in with the most packing efficiency possible. So I gave her arms- snake like appendages, coiled up in her cargo bay, with thousands of points of articulation. At first, I tried to make some kind of control system that I could use from the cockpit. But Rosie had a different idea. At her urged, I jacked them directly into the same sensory and motor systems that let her grip onto, position, and repair her hull. And by god, it worked.

When I showed her off the first time, no one had ever seen anything like it. Because there was nothing like it. A ship taking real mechanical control, over something so precise and delicate, was something that only a deeply intelligent, deeply skilled ship, with complex decision making and tactile movement could do.

And I was goddamn proud of her.

Every time she deployed them, I watched awe. Rosie gave a face of determination, and sinuous, metallic, tentacle-like appendages slid out in a bundle from the cargo bay opening on her underside. Each one was headed off by a different attachment- a precision laser cutter, a simple three-pointed grabbing claw, a drill, a tiny buzzsaw, camera that let me see what was going on, and more. Each one could be swapped out, depending on the task at hand. With eight of them slithering out from her cargo bay, though, there was usually something for everything. They extended out as a single bouquet, down through the hole of the cargo compartment, and split apart once inside. Each arm got to work.

Her observation monitor flickered on, giving me a view from the camera arm. I would've liked to get the brain out first, but two heavy cannons and a booster blocking the way anyways. We'd cut through that, picking off the energy cores and precious metals in the circuits as we go, and work our way towards the back. Rosie seemed to like the plan as well. My only job was to watch the comms, and watch the sensors.

I watched the camera as the petite tools of the arms excised and picked apart the titanium shell of the first heavy cannon. Her tools- the delicate 'fingers' of her arms- picked, pulled, tugged, and gently gripped every necessary notch, every joined titanium plate that needed to be undone, ever scrap of precious material. Firm, yet precise. Strong, yet never breaking or mishandling a single piece of cargo. As Rosie worked, my eyes darted across the energy sensors. I could see blips firing off as the ships on the other side of the freighter as the slicing ships worked and flitted between their stations from the other side. The comms crackled with their reports to Augustus- they seemed to be moving back and forth to the main carrier to drop off their hauls. It seemed like they had a lot to go through- we'd have plenty of time.

On the camera view, I could see a grabbing claw retracting back through the cargo bay. The first cannon had the back section cleanly excised from the massive barrel and chassis, leaving a path for the tools to get to the booster. The precious energy cell was sliding its way back into Rosie's cargo bay. God damn. She was quick with that. The laser cutter and saw were already making short work of the booster, too. We'd get to the brain in no time.

The chatter on the other line continued. We were still safe, but Augustus' crew had made more progress than I had hoped. Once the slicers had picked apart the port, they'd loop around to the starboard. We had to grab what we could as fast as we can- but I knew neither me or Rosie was gonna leave without that brain. Rosie gracefully sliced the fuel cell and ignition from the plasma burner, leaving the bracketing and vents behind. The second heavy cannon was soon to follow. Each cut through each piece had left a winding path towards the back of the chamber, allowing a physical path to what I had seen just barely poking through: a container for a genuine ship's brain. Rosie slid her camera arm in for a closer look.

The brain was bolted into the chassis of the ship, as well as some containers of growth factor. Seemed like the intent was to grow her in to this freighter. That was certainly an ambitious task, but if they knew what they were doing, it would be well worth it. A self-repairing, intelligent hauler as large as this one would be the heart and soul of resistance movements everywhere, supplying every backwater mining station or moon that longed to be free. Unfortunately, the brave and principled can still be stupid, and these chucklefucks had no idea what they were doing. Slapped in a random cargo bay, desperately trying to get growth out from there with no proper imprinting guidance... shame. If they'd've found me before running into the Navy, I might've helped them out. But at least now, we could give her a better life. I knew a lot of good, caring pilots that would take loving care of a fine ship like her.

From what I could tell, we were still safe from Augustus. Based on what I was hearing on the comms, each slicer was working on its last cargo hold subsection, and after that, they'd be poking around this side. We had to get this brain and get out.

Tenderly, her claw arm gripped the top of the brain's chamber, as her other fingers started working on the rivets. A saw would bust through part of the titanium bracket holding the chamber down, and when it got too close to the container itself, laser cutters took over, delicately slicing off each affixation point one by one. Rosie worked in a clockwise direction, first working down the three riveting points on the right, sawing off the bottom bracket, and then working up the rivets on the left.

C'mon Rosie. You got this. Just need the top plate....

"Finishing up there, slicer 5T?"

Shit. That was Augustus on the comms.

"Sure thing boss. Just gotta get this load to central. Mind if someone takes a peek on the other side for parasites before I get there?"

Shit.

"Sure thing. Fighter 3A, get your ass in gear and make a full pass of the ship."

An energy spike pinged on my sensor panels as the fighter revved up a booster.

"Gotcha boss. Starting at aft segment."

Shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit

We still had a sliver of time before we were seen. They'd wanna get a good pass everywhere- there were ships far stealthier than us out there. But it was minutes at most. We had to finish up.

"Rosie, how're we doing there? You done?"

Negative.

[ ;( ]

"Fuck. Rosie, we gotta get outta here."

Affirmative. Affirmative. Affirmative. Affirmative.

Rosie-speak for "I know, I know, I know"

My eyes were fixed to the scanner and my cockpit windows for a visual, but I spared one moment to check Rosie's cam. She was finishing sawing through the top bracket. Just a little more....

"Aft clear, moving to starboard cargo bays."

The brain snapped off of the hull, and Rosie's claws were zipping it back to her cargo bay. I revved the engines into standby. The arms tenderly guided it through the path we had cleared, and out through the hole in the hull. We might be able to barely slip away without them knowing.....

I looked up through the cockpit, just as the dinged-up, formerly Navy fighter showed itself from behind a piece of debris. It froze for a moment, and then lined its nose to face me. Cannon ports shifted open, and slowly took aim.

"Well shit, Augustus, you're gonna wanna see this. Get your ass over here, I'm switching to public comms."

I heard slight fuzz as he switched his channel.

"Alright, leech, I'll keep this simple. You have thirty seconds to relinquish your haul before you join the debris."

For a single, cold moment, I swear I made eye contact with him through our cockpits.

#writing #sierra writes #biologics #robotfucker #eroticism of the machine #story #sci fi story #scifi #scifi story

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draculancer-flow · 6 months ago

Note

Unshackling all four of my NHPs just to hold myself back. I’m moving incorporeal, I’m moving paracausal. The Smith-Shimano Corpro turned my phone into an explosive device. They want my metavault tech Newports. Smoking those crazy Egregorian chitin Hercynian black market Worldkiller runts. Shooting ropes in all known dimensions. This shit ain’t nothin to me, man. I’m smoking Eidolon shards. I don’t give a fuck. I’ll turn this entire battlefield into ash, I don’t care about the ecosystem. It’s a pleasure to burn, motherfucker.

#lancer rpg #lancer #lancer ttrpg #dracula #dracula flow #mecha #memes #lancer meme #lancerrpg #ask #localfool-thecreature

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queeranarchism · 2 years ago

Text

The eating insects thing

A far-right anti-vax conspiracy theory that has existed for a few years now has recently increased in popularity and has been breaching containment, especially in vegan circles, so I guess we have to talk about it:

Keep an eye out for scary sounding posts about eating insects.

Some of the claims to expect are this:

Governments are secretly allowing more insects to be put into food. - It is true that more edible insects have been approved for the EU market lately, but this process is not secret at all.

Some people are allergic to Chitine, which is found in shellfish and hard-shelled insects - this is true.

Chitine is also dangerous to people who are not allergic to it and causes cancer - this is not true. It traces back to study that has been taken out-of-context about the impact of concentrated Chitine in cancer identification and treatment.

Eating large amounts of the insects being approved would damage your stomach lining or other intestines because of ‘toxic chitine’. - this is not true. It traces back to an old dietary advice on a Dutch website which only mentioned that insect consumption was safe up to 45 grams at a time. What this meant was: we didn’t find a study that researched higher doses. There are plenty of studies by now and it turns out it’s fine.

Insects are ‘bird food’ and humans did not evolve to digest the insects currently being approved for consumption. - this is not true. There are 1500 insect species that are regularly safely consumed by millions of people around the world. The insects that are currently being approved for the European market have been consumed by humans for as long as we can trace the human diet and many are consumed by our closest primate relatives.

Bill Gates and other insert-conspiracy-name-here billionaires are buying up farm land to deliberately cause food shortages and to force us to eat bugs - this is not true. Land is just a popular investment right now due to other economic pressures.

Governments are pushing for lower meat consumption to force us to eat bugs. - this is not true. Any minimal encouragement of reduced meat consumption by governments is in response to the impact of meat consumption on climate change.

If you buy in to some of these scare stories, the next claim is that forcing people to eat bugs serves some darker government purpose, either simple misery and humiliation (accompanies by the claim that we’ll be forced to eat weeds and drink sewage water), forced population control (the Great Reset bullshit) or preparing us for the rule of reptilian overlords (antisemitism crap).

Now, let me be clear: there are valid reasons why you might want to avoid eating insects. ‘I just don’t want to’ is a good enough reason. Being vegan is an excellent reason. We know very little about the inner lives of insects but observations suggest that they are intelligent and feel pain. We do not currently know what constitutes a high quality of life or a painless death, so we could not ‘humanely’ farm insects even if we wanted to.

However, most of the claims above are misleading, racist and dangerous. They pave the way into far-right anti-vax and antisemitic conspiracy theories. Recognize them and avoid them. If you see your vegan friends share these claims: let them know what they’re doing. Don’t give this shit space.

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world-of-elissa-nax · 2 years ago

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Late morning is, in Elissa's mind, the perfect time to visit any great Begvehma City's market. The desert heat has already driven most folk indoors or back to their caravans to rest but the vendors hold out for those few last minute trades from the comfortable shade of their stalls.

Elissa gestures down the road to a pair of artisans, one offering chitin-bound journals and pens whittled from the antennae of large insects, and their neighbor hawking sturdy glass bottles filled with fermented fruit wine.

The fungus sprouting from her shoulder, a tiny sliver of the Begvehma mind of a far off city, stretches it's sensory nodes in the direction of her gesture. It hums it's approval and sends a phantom sensation of sweet wine to wash over Elissa's tongue.

#world building #elissa nax

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mistkisbiggestfan · 1 year ago

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Could you do Anna with a survivalist reader

Anne x Survivalist! Reader

A/N: Finally got to work on my inbox!! Requests are open, kinda wasn't sure what to do at first so I hope this is okay! <33

Y/N is gn here btw, love you guys!! Word count: 1.6 k

As a survivalist you were prepared for every case, you knew how to start a fire, how to hunt, forage. Anything there was to learn about surviving you knew. So when that one day while walking through a park, you suddenly landed in a place hostile at every step, you were more than prepared. You learned how to survive on your own many years ago, sometimes sneaking out just to spend your night outdoors with nothing.

By the mark of two months you were already stacked, you found out about civilizations living around this place called Amphibia. Frogs, Toads and Newts you supposed. But it didn’t matter, you were by yourself, put through dangerous situations out there in the wilderness, by choice. And all this—the harsh weather, hostile brutes lurking at every other living creature and the strangeness of it all—had no effect on you. That was not for the fact that you were long familiar with it, you were a newcomer in the land. But it was for that you were well prepared for anything coming your way.

Dressed in chitin cuirass, made of Barbari–Ant’s hide that you polished and remade, it consisted of a hard chestplate and backplate fastened together, leaving the limbs free and light. You killed off two of them after they lost their horde, although they’re fast, aggressive and vicious, they were no match for you. Their pincers served as tools for your use.

Walking through the local market all the eyes were directed at you, knowing you weren’t in this town yet you realized it wasn’t the best idea. “Oi look! There is another one!” – You heard one of the Frogs say, you sent him a cold glare and saw his soul almost leave his body.

The locals stared in awe at your cuirass and knives made of stings of many unfortunate insects that crossed your road. You sighed as you heard another whisper – “This one is surely less, hm, lanky than our Anne.”.

Remembering the town’s motto, you couldn’t really be mad. — Slow to accept, and even slower to respect. — You muttered to yourself.

Sighing, you walked into one of the shops. “Leopold Loggle’s”: The sign read, door creaked loudly as you walked in, your armor scraping against the wooden frame. Everything inside was wooden, the shopkeeper nowhere in sight. Looking around you finally spotted a light blue axolotl with dark blue gills, his mouth was almost covered with his large ashy mustache. You could tell by the looks of it that he was a rather passionate wood carver.

You walked over to him, the axolotl was rather surprised at the sight of you, gasping slightly he looked at you cautiously.

— Can I find a weapon here? — You said, waiting for his response.

— Of course you can… not. — He said with a pause, giving you hope for a moment.

— Do you know a good place for that then?

— Absolutely, I do…n’t. I don’t. — He said weirdly again.

— Why do you keep doing that? — You finally asked, confused by his pattern of speech. By now he moved, standing behind his counter.

— Old smithing accident, I tripped on an anvil. Landed neck–first on a metal pipe. Pierced my voice box clean through! That’s why there is no blacksmith in Wartwood anymore. — He said, you nodded, not really disgusted by his story. Bad things happen, as a survivalist you learned how to accept them and adapt to them. — Switched to wood after that. Anyhow, I’m afraid I can’t do much for you.

Nodding again you turned around, ready to head out. — Wait, tell me, few have made it out alive after meeting a Barbari–Ant, fewer yet collected a trophy. You seem different from the other one of ya monster ‘round here, and I haven’t seen ya here yet, you from somewhere else?

— I’m currently resigning in the wilds near this town. — Before leaving, a sudden realization hit you.

— What do you mean, “different from the other one”?

— I am fairly sure I’ve seen another one of ya creatures here, in Wartwood. — He said, you acknowledged the fact and nodded to him as a sign of saying goodbye. You noted his words and carried on with what you were doing.

Once outside, you left Wartwood rather quickly, skipping its main road and just heading off back to the wild woods you had your camp in.

As you came back to your resting area, you set up some traps along the way, hoping for a game to fall into them. During this time, a foreign to you girl ran through the town’s square with her best friend, Sprig, by her side.

She couldn’t shake off a feeling that she missed something prior to now. Both of them ran into the Leopold Loggle’s. At the sight of Anne Lepold murmured to himself. — Yes, yes I knew that there were other kinds of ya ‘round here somewhere.

— Did you say something? — Sprig asked him, as for they were close enough to hear.

— Oh yeah, yeah. — He turned to Anne herself and spoke up. — Ya didn’t tell anyone there were more of you around. It stirred up the whole Wartwood just a second ago.

Anne and Sprig looked at eachother confused, the girl quickly jumped into action asking questions, hoping it was either Marcy or Sasha, her other best friends also stuck in Amphibia.

— What did they look like? That was probably Marcy! My friend from back home.

— Well, they had H/L that was H/C colored, they also wore Barbari–Ant armor. They were slightly taller/shorter than ya. Kinda different, really different. They were definitely stronger and more harsh looking than ya, kid. — That confused Anne, her friends were very different from the description that Loggle gave her.

— Are you sure dude? — She said, confused.

— Of course… — They expected him to say something that fit his style but he continued. — I’m sure. They said they live in those wilds next to Wartwood, pretty dangerous if you ask me.

Both best friends looked at each other and ran out of the woodsmith’s shop. — Thanks Loggle! — They yelled behind them.

— Do you think what I am thinking? — Anne asked Sprig he nodded.

— Yeah! We gotta find that person. — He said as Anne agreed.

Soon they came up with a plan, it only took a few minutes, they decided that Sprig will stay and deceive Hop Pop as Anne will go out and find the mysterious person. Meanwhile you were chilling by a fire you set up, laying on the soft moss, a calm moment among the dangerous wilderness.

As Anne entered the woods after asking for directions, she was met with nothing other than light footsteps left in the mud. She stepped forward and regretted not having both shoes on. Walking cautiously she looked around, only wind accompanied her.

Shuffling through the woods she realized she's not even sure about the person you are. Lost in thought, Anne didn’t even realize when she stepped into a trap, a handmade rope tied around her foot and pulled her up, she shrieked, now dangling in the air she realized the bad situation she landed in.

Growing nervous she heard something inching closer. A figure soon emerged from the thick bushes, walking over to the place where rope was tied, she saw them taking out a makeshift knife. She heard a snap as she came tumbling to the ground, scrambling to get up she saw the person coming closer and taking out a hand towards her. — Uh, are you okay?

Anne froze in her place, she looked you up and down, shocked to see other human in Amphibia after all this time spent with Frogs and others. — Hello..?

— Oh my god, am I dreaming? — She said, more to herself.

— ..Sorry..? — You asked confused, blushing from the weird reaction of Anne’s, she quickly picked herself up and blushed slightly, she could swear she had seen you before, somewhere in her school and then it clicked. She knew you, Marcy and Sasha always teased her about looking at you during lunch or always stumbling on her words when she talked with you.

— You’re Y/N, right? I’m Anne Boonchuy, we used to go to the same school before… — She mentioned everything around her. — all this happened. You don’t even know how happy I am to see another human after all this time dude!

You observed her closely before she tackled you into a bear hug, she was right, you remembered her, vaguely, but still. You remembered how she always talked with her friends and got into trouble. After breaking apart you saw her grin at you. Then you noticed a slight gash on her forehead. — Come on. — You gestured for her to follow you, while you walked she asked you questions to which you replied quickly.

Finally you walked back to your camp, the fire was shining and burning brightly. She gasped and started to look around, slightly flustering you. — This is where you’ve been living all this time? — She asked as you nodded, taking out a bangade and purified water you previously boiled.

Anne sat down on the hammock you set up for you to sleep during the night. You washed off the wound and bandaged it while talking with her about everything that happened in Amphibia, comparing your experiences so far, you talked for a long time, to your surprise, you missed talking with anyone. It reminded you of the fun but short times you shared with Anne.

Maybe you can finally get closer to each other?

You smiled at the thought and went back to talking with Anne, this encounter marking a new chapter for both of you.

#amphibia #amphibia x reader #requests open #request #anne amphibia x reader #amphibia anne #anne boonchuy x reader #anne boonchuy #anne x reader #please request

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liampboyle · 1 month ago

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Stabby Returns

While I want people to subscribe to my Patreon because like everybody else I've got bills to pay. Stabby the Roomba belongs to the community, so here's this morning's Stabby story.

Prompt: “Those robots were uniquely hard to conquer but fell nonetheless, what’s curious though, is they seem to call out for their ‘Earthly parent’.”

It was no secret among the species of the alliance that humans pack bonded. They were a social species. That they gave their technological creations, robots they called them, this behavior, was interesting and also disturbing. Vsdnak shook xe’s head, causing xe’s antennae to sway, and looked over the now empty ship. Twisted bits of titanium and steel were scattered everywhere, along with pools of the petrochemical fluid the human’s called “cherry juice” that their mechanical creations used for their hydraulic systems. The shade was disturbingly similar to the blood of biological humans, or at least how it was described in the study materials.

Vsdnak had yet to actually see a human, it was far more common to encounter their robots than members of the human species. Yet all their ships still had full life support capabilities for biologicals. The machines, when destroyed, would call out for whatever human they had bonded with. Between the resemblance to actual human forms, the fluid that leaked from them, and the fact they mimicked pack bonded biological behavior it was easy to forget these things were not biological sentients.

If there was one thing, the primates were good at making it was weapons. That was Vsdnak’s entire purpose on this ship. To recover any weapons that were aboard. This was ship small for a military carrier but the humans seemed to like vessels of this size to carry small arms and ammunition. Xe checked the charge on xe’s particle thrower, it was still full. The sensor readings showed only base levels of activity aboard. What little activity there was could just be the ship's own systems. The crew of xe’s sister ship had been slaughtered in xyr encounter with it. The two survivors had already been rescued, and xe had sent xe’s own crew back to xyr vessel already. Xe remained simply to see what was still intact that could be taken. Human “slug throwers” were famed for their ability to pierce energy shields and no one had ever duplicated the explosive powders that seem to power them. It seemed like whatever it was made from was exclusive to the barren rock the humans claimed as their homeworld.

Vsdnak shifted xe’s antennae again, that type of thing was for the scientists to figure out, xe was just a mercenary pilot, specializing in salvage. Xe passed some shattered exoskeletons from the members of xe’s sister ship’s crew. According to xyr logs, xy had boarded this vessel in order to use melee and short burst energy weapons to pacify the robotic crew. Xy should have known better. Humans were famed for their relative strength and endurance, and their robots were even stronger. Human metal work was some of the strongest in the known galaxies. So their hand weapons could easily penetrate chitin. Their robots were always armed with the same. Finally xe reached the door that should be the cargo area in this ship class. Xe reached down with xe’s lower manipulation foot to withdraw a code breaker from the supply pouch belted around xe’s lower thorax. Placing it against what looked to be the door’s locking mechanism, xe pressed the activator and waited a few seconds until the indicator light glowed and xe detected the reassuring ping of device success. The door slid open and xe focused xe’s eyes on the boxes of cargo, marked ‘ammunition 7.62x51mm’ in the human script. While xe could not read the human language, xe knew this marking well. Human weapon ammunition, multiple crates of it. This would go for an extremely high price on the salvage markets. These projectiles were known to occasionally pierce ship hulls and devastate beings using only energy shields.

Xe’s antennae twitched again, detecting an electrical signal. Something, some piece of technology was still active in this cargo hold. Vsdnak felt a sharp pain as something pierced xe’s leg just above the floor. The electrical signal…. Xe looked down, and there it was, a small round cleaning robot, a sharp blade of some sort attached to it with adhesive tape. It let out a forlorn beep as it backed up and then started forward again; the blade piercing the exoskeleton of xe’s leg again allowing the hemolymph to flow more quickly out of xe’s body. Xe reached for xe’s supply pouches to withdraw the first aid kit, but the dizziness from the fluid loss was already starting to affect xe.

There was a hiss from the cargo bay door behind xe. Before Vsdnak could even turn, a sharp, overwhelming pain blossomed throughout his consciousness. As Vsdnak fell, xe heard a voice speaking, “Good job, Stabby, you got the roach.”

#writers on tumblr #writeblr #writing #stabby the roomba

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chemicalresearchupdates · 1 year ago

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Chitin Market Forecast 2023-2030: Emerging Applications and Regions

Chitin is a natural biopolymer primarily composed of long chains of N-acetylglucosamine and is found abundantly in the exoskeletons of arthropods, such as crustaceans and insects, as well as in the cell walls of fungi. It is a versatile and renewable resource that has gained significant attention across various industries due to its unique properties and potential applications.

The chitin market has witnessed steady growth over the years, driven by the increasing demand for sustainable and biodegradable materials. Its biocompatible and non-toxic nature makes it suitable for a wide range of applications, including medical, agriculture, food processing, and cosmetics. Moreover, the growing awareness of environmental concerns and the need to reduce reliance on non-renewable resources have further propelled the chitin market's expansion.

In recent years, the chitin industry has experienced significant innovation and product development. This has led to the extraction and production of chitin from various sources, such as shrimp shells, crab shells, and fungal biomass, expanding the market's scope and making it more economically viable. Chitosan, a derivative of chitin, has found applications in wound healing, drug delivery, and water purification, contributing to the industry's diversification.

The chitin market growth is also influenced by ongoing research and development efforts aimed at exploring new applications for chitin. From wound dressings with antimicrobial properties to chitin-based biodegradable plastics and agricultural products, the industry is witnessing a constant influx of novel ideas and technologies. Chitin and chitosan's unique properties, such as their biodegradability, antimicrobial characteristics, and compatibility with various other materials, continue to drive innovation and market expansion.

As a global trend, the chitin market is aligned with the increasing awareness of sustainability and the reduction of single-use plastics. The market is poised for further growth as more industries and consumers shift towards eco-friendly alternatives. Chitin's ability to address both environmental concerns and the need for functional materials places it at the forefront of emerging trends in various sectors.

In conclusion, the chitin market has witnessed substantial growth and diversification, thanks to its unique properties and applications. From medical and agricultural uses to environmental solutions and sustainable materials, chitin's versatility and renewable nature position it as a valuable resource in the evolving landscape of industries and consumer preferences. The market's future appears promising as it continues to adapt to the changing demands of a more eco-conscious world.

#Chitin Market #Chitin Market Growth #Chitin Market Trends

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realrogerhours · 8 months ago

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Rejected Specimen// Supersoldier Testbed Batch 3-476

Containment Protocol;

Specimens are to be kept in individual accommodations, no artificial light is to be allowed inside the enclosure outside of scheduled observation periods. Changes in appearance are to be noted, in case of a return to human form.

Reason for Rejection;

Adverse reaction to the combat mutagen, resulting in complete body coverage in a chitinous carapace and animalistic mental regression.

Verdict;

Unfit for market, tweak parameters.

#roger's art #original character #oc #digital art #digital painting #insectoid #mutant #monster

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melanie-ohara · 11 months ago

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WIP Weekend: this really Baldurs my Gate

Or, Three Tavs and a Durge Awaken on a Nautiloid

This week, I've been mostly playing BG3 and I can't stop making new characters. I started wondering what would happen if all my tadfools hung out, and one thing led to another and -

A Nautiloid in Hell

It was raining in Rivington, and Emily picked her way carefully along the path to avoid the bigger puddles. The late afternoon was warm, and she didn't mind the kind of rain that came in fat, heavy drops. It plastered her pale hair to her face and stuck her robe to her back, but soon she would be home and she could change her clothes and stoke the fire in the grate before she started cooking the fish she had bought from the monger on Wyrm's Crossing. She reached the door of the cottage she shared with her ailing mother and wiped her boots on the mat before opening the door.

"I'm home!" Emily called, nudging the door shut behind her with her elbow as she kicked off her boots.

"Thank goodness," her mother answered from her armchair, without looking up from her knitting. "The fire needs tending."

Emily smiled and kissed her forehead. "Of course, mother."

She heaved another log into the grate and went to her bedroom to change while she waited for it to catch, and when she returned in a warm woolen jumper, she found it already roaring again. Her mother put down her knitting to talk with her while she took pans down from the wall and started on dinner.

Emily told her about her day at the Temple of the Open Hand, praying to Ilmater for the sick and the dying. Her mother managed to hold her tongue until the heads were boiling in a pot of water and Emily was carefully slicing fillets from the rest of the fish, but in the end she couldn't resist.

"Have you inquired at Sorcerous Sundries yet?" she asked.

Emily shook her head and tried not to sigh. "Not today," she said, without looking up from the fish. "I don't think it's a good idea. I'm not a wizard."

"You don't need to be to work there," her mother pointed out. "And you would make a fine librarian."

Emily melted a little lard in the pan over the fire and then laid the fish in it once it started to bubble. "I'm happy where I am," she said.

"At the temple? I know, dear, I know." She folded her hands in her lap and Emily tried not to notice the tremor in them. Her mother never mentioned their desperate need for more coin, but sometimes she wished she would - it'd make her selfishness harder to indulge.

"Maybe tomorrow," she said.

"Maybe tomorrow."

They ate together quietly. The next day, everything changed.

Emily awoke to a throbbing pain behind her right eye that sapped her strength and rendered her memory hazy. She had no idea where she was, beyond the fact that she was trapped in what felt horribly like a glass specimen jar. Something grey and chitinous supported her body, and beyond the glass she could see the impression of a cavernous room. A fire crackled, close and large enough that she could feel the heat against her body even though she couldn't see the flames themselves. She tried hammering on the glass, but it was an inch thick and resolute, and she gave up before she bruised herself.

There was no way out.

She had been in the Wide, the lower city market in Baldur's Gate, looking for fresh bread. The sky had cracked open overhead and something great and terrible had blotted out the sun. The memories rushed back to her in a flood of fear and panic: trying to run and getting shoved down by the crowds, people bursting into clouds of ash around her, and then the icy chill of something dark and cold against the back of her neck. She had time to think 'mind flayers', and then she was gone.

Something under Emily's pod jolted, and she felt the entire ship rock to the side with a groaning sound that almost seemed alive. The coffin lid hissed, and the acrid smell of sulphur and oil filled her nose - so thick she felt as though she could bite down on it. Emily shoved against the glass one more time and was so relieved when it slid up and away from her that she forgot about the poisonous reek of the air for a moment. She stumbled forwards on unsteady legs and fell out of the pod.

The vessel was in bad shape. A hole gaped in the wall, so large that Emily was nervous of falling out of it if she got too close. Outside, she could see swirling red storm clouds and jagged obsidian pillars floating a hundred feet above the ground. Her blood ran cold and her mouth turned dry. She had read enough about the Blood War to know where she was: Avernus. The Hells.

A flurry of fire and wings burned past the hole in the window and Emily felt the ship shudder again in response. It was under attack, and she was stuck on board. At the very least she wanted to find somewhere to hide before the hellions tore any more holes in the walls. Turning, Emily started towards the part of the room that looked most like an exit - a vile, twisted sphincter in the opposite wall - and made it halfway there before the glimmer of pearlescent orange eyes stopped her in her tracks. The mind flayer stared up at her from the floor, unblinking. The four thick tentacles that spewed from where a humanoid mouth would be were still. Its probing digits were limp. Dead. She breathed a sigh of relief, and was about to hurry on when she saw the other body - not a mind flayer, but an elf, dressed for the city in a fine, colourful doublet, sprawled awkwardly on their back. Emily could see from the rise and fall of their chest that they were still alive, and for the first time in twenty-five years she considered deserting her duty as a cleric of Ilmater. It would be so much easier to leave this stranger to the mercy of the Hells and leave. Instead, Emily steeled herself and picked her way gingerly to their side. The ground around them was slick with some foul bile that made her retch, but she kneeled by their head and carefully shook their shoulders until they stirred.

"Please wake up," she whispered. Her voice wouldn't be audible over the wind rushing in through the hole, but she still didn't dare risk speaking too loudly.

The elf moaned and lifted their head.

"Careful," Emily cautioned, trying to stop them rushing to their feet. "I think you hit your head."

"Something happened to my head alright," the elf grumbled as they sat up. Emily noticed too late the rapier on the ground next to them, and before she could react it was back in the elf's hand. She half expected an attack, but none came.

"Do you know what happened?" she ventured, once she had helped the elf to their feet.

The elf gestured at a shattered basin the size of her cottage fireplace. The briny bile on the floor oozed from it. "I touched something that didn't want to be touched," they explained.

"I meant about how we got here," Emily clarified.

"Not a clue," the elf said, their eyes searching the ground for something. "You don't see a violin around here do you? I had it when I woke up."

Emily stared at them blankly for a moment. "You're worried about a musical instrument? Now?"

"Aha! There you are," the elf said, picking up their violin from the floor and brushing it off against their sleeve. It didn't do much to clean off the brine and silvery mind flayer blood, but they seemed satisfied. "This is much more than a mere instrument," they said as they fiddled with the tuning pegs. "It's my muse, my weapon, and my most loyal companion." They gave Emily a deep bow, accompanied by a flourish on the newly tuned instrument. "Mellephora Lallorē, artisan extraordinaire and bard of consummate ability."

"Uh… Emily. Of Rivington."

Mellephora paused for a moment, as if they expected more, and then nodded politely. "Baldur's Gate," they said, with a touch of their hand to their chest. "Now, Emily of Rivington, I believe it's time we - ah!"

Something lurched in Emily's head and suddenly she was looking at herself from the outside - from Mellephora's eyes. Thoughts flickered in her mind and it took her a moment to realise they weren't her own: whatever had joined them was giving her a peek into Mellephora's brain. Their confidence was an act they dearly wanted to believe. When they looked at Emily, the phrase 'lost pup' drifted through their mind. And then, as abruptly as it had started, the connection ceased.

"Hells," Mellephora gasped, clutching at their head. Emily felt like her brain was going to burst, and she was acutely aware of a sensation like something wriggling behind her eye.

"Gods, what was that?" she managed to hiss through the pain.

Mellephora groaned and straightened up. "Must be the parasite."

"Parasite?"

Mellephora paused. "The mind flayers… how can I put this delicately? - they put vile little worms in our heads, I'm afraid."

Emily reeled in horror and disgust. "What? Why?"

Mellephora opened their mouth to reply, but was cut short by another violent rumble as something below them exploded.

"Suffice it to say, we don't want them there. Now, I think we should leave."

Emily nodded, and Mellphora strode towards the sphincter-like door, which peeled open as they approached. If Emily didn't know better from her trip behind the elf's eyes, she would be convinced by their sure steps and confident air. She hurried after them.

With their new companion trailing behind them, Mellephora advanced deeper into the nautiloid and tried to keep their mind off the tadpole in their head, but it proved easier said than done. Stepping through the next strange organic door, Mellephora and Emily found a huge section of the hull blasted away by fire and claws, and through the damage they could see what was laying siege to the vessel: red dragons, ridden by wiry humanoid figures Mellephora couldn't make out properly. They were squinting into the distance when Emily cried out a warning. Mellephora's gaze shot up in time to see a blur of armour soaring overhead, and a second later there was a sword point an inch from their eye.

"Abominations!" a voice hissed from behind the sword, and Mellephora lifted their eyes to look at her. "This is your end!"

Her green skin and pointed ears made her look almost like a fellow - if slightly serrated - wood-elf, but her flat, bat-like nose and the strange reptilian look of her eyes made it clear she was something else entirely. Before any of them could speak, their minds collided.

A red dragon. A silver sword. Gaik thralls. Planes beyond reckoning and battles through alien landscapes. A wood-elf and a human. A tadpole.

Mellephora felt themselves spat out of the stranger's mind and blinked away the pain rattling in their brain.

"Tsk'va, you are no thralls," the woman said, recovering much faster from the bout of pain than Mellephora or Emily. "Vlaakith blesses me this day! Together, we might survive."

"Vlaakith?" Emily said, more than a trace of uncertainty in her voice. "You're githyanki?"

"I am your only chance of survival," the stranger answered. "Come, we must fight together."

"Fight?" Emily asked, all but quaking in her boots.

The githyanki gestured. The sphincter bulkhead ahead had been torn through and inside a dozen imps tore at the flesh of a dead Mind Flayer and a barely-living thrall as he tried to fight them off. "They are between us and our freedom," she said, and then set off at a run. "Htak'a!" she cried as she plunged into the fray.

"We're not going to follow her, are we?" Emily asked. Her wet blue eyes were wide with fear, but it was the only way forward.

"Just keep your head down. Find a weapon too, if you can."

"Oh Gods," Emily whispered, but Mellephora didn't give her time to panic and ran after the githyanki.

Emily had never seen combat before, and within seconds she hoped never to see it again. The githyanki's sword cleaved an imp almost perfectly in half while strange blue and white strands of magic swirled around Mellephora's violin as they played, stopping only to insult a creature with such ferocity that it keeled over and died. The imps and their cambion masters had carved their way through the organic hull, leaving great tears and welts that oozed blood onto the floor. Emily stayed as close as she could to what remained of the walls as the fight raged, hoping she could go unnoticed. While she was cowering, a flicker of movement ahead caught her eye: she was sure something had just flitted across the balcony above her, but when she looked there was nobody there.

The snarl of an imp forced her to look back at the carnage, and she realised with horror that one of the creatures had spotted her and decide she was to be its next victim. The githyanki took a swing at it, but it swept out of the way of her blade with a swish of bat-like wings and then it was bearing down on Emily, scimitar raised and teeth bared. It was too late to scream, and she wouldn't give the hellion the satisfaction of hearing her fear. Instead, she closed her eyes and tried to find peace in the embrace of Ilmater. Death did not come. Instead, Emily heard a wet thud and and the imp wailing - a sound that was more pathetic than frightening. She risked a peek out of one eye and quickly wished she hadn't - the creature was reeling and whining, fingers grasping uselessly at a dagger that had pierced through its forehead. Emily didn't have to wonder for long how it had got there: with a flurry of dark cloth a figure dropped down from the balcony above and landed, blade first, on the top of the imp's head. It died with a wet gurgle and sunk to the bloody floor, the last flutter of its wings bringing her saviour gently to the ground.

#fanfic #writing #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #lae'zel #bg3 tav #bg3 durge #bg3 dark urge #maybe I'll do character profiles #they're all useless

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ashcoveredtraveler · 3 months ago

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Moth Types/Physical Variants

So I was looking through art of the moths of Hallownest and thought about what I could design for my versions of them. But then I thought: Why not have some variations between the moths? And while I am at it I can write how moths work in general.

(I was inspired by this post by @cloudyswritings)

Basic Biology:

The blood color of moths is based on whether they are more in tune with Dreams or Nightmares. In tune with the Radiance or Grimm. Pale golden blood makes them more in tune with the Radiance while those with bronze blood are more in tune with Grimm. This would be the spectrum of colors

Moths run warmer than other bugs. Their normal body temperature is the same temperature as a beetle with a high fever. This means that they don't get cold very easily, but can't overheat.

Since they don't get cold as easily, they don't "hibernate". In the winter when most other bugs are asleep, they are awake. But during this time they are a lot slower and sometimes don't have to eat for days on end.

Moths are both nomadic and have also settled down. Tribes communicate through dreams so the nomadic can find the tribes that settled down. They would stay there for about three years and the purpose of this is to trade off some moths so some would stay settled in while others would travel around the waste. This is so the tribes could be genetically diverse and that's why you see many different colors of moths, even with a small tribe as moths are always traded around. But these meetings usually happen once every 5 to 30 years, it depends on the cycle and paths that wondering tribes travel.

Moth's wings are extremely thick. It would be extremely hard to cut them up or penetrate them. This makes moth wings very valuable on the black market as it is harder to get.

Standard Moth:

Rarity: Common

Description: These moths are the most common type across Hallownest. They have a range of how tall they could be, but they are generally taller than the average Hallownest citizen with a few exceptions(I'm looking at you Seer). They have a combination of fur and chitin around their body. The forearms and legs are comprised of chitin while the arms are fur.

Fluff: Their fluff is comparable to the fur of dung beetles. The fur can be made of any type of finish, straight and wavy. This causes the retant to have a lot of heat, and it is generally very warm.

Diet: They can eat a mix of meats and plant-based food, but they prefer vegetarian options as they are more filling and give them more energy.

Colors: These moths are made up of simple colors, usually multiple shades of the same color. Just like paints, moths follow color theory. If a red and a blue moth were to have kids, they would have purple children. Now if two purple moths were to have children they would have a mix of purple, red, and blue children since the purple moths have both blue and red pigments with them.

Moths: The Seer and Thistlewind are standard moths.

Butterfly Moth:

Rarity: Uncommon

Description: These moths can be mistaken as butterflies if they conceal themselves properly. These moths are skinny and lengthy, mimicking butterflies.

Fluff: Their fluff is thinner than other moths, but their hair is thicker than butterflies. Just like the common variety their fluff could be straight and wavey.

Diet: They are just like the common moths, but they are more inclined to eat meats.

Colors: Their wings are more intricate than the normal moths. They have more designs and more colors, but their body is typically black. If two butterfly-like moths were to have children, one would inherit the design of the wings and the color of the other.

Moths: Lurien and Xero(kinda as he is a hybrid)

Owl Moth:

Rarity: Extremely Rare(No full-blooded one lives in Hallownest)

Description: Some of these moths aren't recognizable as moths, and most share owl-like features like claws(inspired by this post[The last photo] by @/mipexch). They live far, far away from Hallownest, living in nomadic tribes and in small numbers. They are massive. Within this sector, there are many physical traits including mandibles, beaks, three pairs of wings, having the ability to turn their head 180 degrees, and many alien/bird traits.

[Note: as I am still thinking about what the wastelands would be like. An idea I had was that some places are straight-up radioactive. Maybe birth defects are higher because of that. But I am unsure what I would do.]

Fluff: They have wavy to curly fluff. while this fur is thick, it is the most useful and can travel everywhere. Their fur isn't as absorbent so it doesn't get dirty as fast. Some moth's fur also has tendrils and feathers.

Diet: They can eat a variety of things. You can't be too picky if you live in lands that barely have resources.

Colors: They are typically a variety of deep rich colors. The colors can be monotone like the standard moths or have intricate patterns like the butterfly moths.

Moths: Markoth (Kinda) and Markoth's dad(But he's dead)

This is a general doodle I made for the owl moths. I want them to be extremely imposing and just generally weird. I didn't convey it well in this drawing, so I will draw them more eventually.

#hollow knight #hk headcanons #headcanons #hk worldbuilding #hk moths

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wormytoast · 5 months ago

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EDIT: THIS WAS WRONG. THERE IS NO PATTERN. I'M A FOOL.

ok so in regards to my last post i did a little thinking (read: delusions) and i think i've got a decent understanding of what we're going to get in the next few patches (this is the ravings of a mad lunatic) (LITERALLY NONE OF THIS MATTERS. DON'T OPEN THIS IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ A WALL OF POINTLESS TEXT)(there is a conclusion if u want to scroll all the way down and get the basic gist)

as of now we are getting the 3rd stagnant shadow for each type. currently, the ice, fire, physical, and quantum types have 3 stagnant shadows and thus 3 different ascension mats per type.

wind, lightning, and imaginary still have only 2 stagnant shadows which means there's a good chance we will be getting the 3rd stagnant shadow for each in the next few versions. this also means that we can (kind of) predict the types of the next units or the mats they use.

some info about a couple ascension mats that i can use as examples:

"gelid chitin"- luofu, 1.0, used for yanqing (1.0), jingliu (1.4), and ruan mei (1.6). all characters are associated with the luofu.

"broken teeth of iron wolf"- belobog, 1.0, used for clara (1.0), natasha (1.0), sushang (1.0), and luka (1.2). all characters are associated with belobog EXCEPT sushang—she uses it because there was only 1 physical ascension mat in 1.0 and there was no physical mat related to the luofu.

"nail of the ape"- luofu, 1.3, used for fu xuan (1.3), lynx (1.3), and xueyi (1.6). all characters are associated with the luofu EXCEPT lynx who was released in the same patch as the mat.

"suppressing edict"- luofu, 1.3, used for dh:il (1.3), dr. ratio (1.6), and aventurine (2.1). only dh:il is associated with the luofu, which means that we can reason the other two use this mat because 1. there was no imaginary mat in locations relevant to them, and 2. the mat required more characters to use it before another imaginary mat can be released.

ALL OF THIS TO SAY

ascension mats are released in the same version characters that use them

characters can use ascension mats that were not released in the same version as them

ascension mats will ideally be used by at least 3 characters BUT a new ascension mat can be released for a type when at least 2 characters use the most recently released mat

ascension mats are generally tied to their location and assigned to characters related to that location

if the location is not related or there is no stagnant shadow in a location that relates to the character, an ascension mat can still be used for a character if they were a) released in the same patch as the mat or b) the mat required more assigned characters before a new mat of the same type was released

and we are in DIRE need of new wind, lightning, and imaginary ascension mats! not only do dr. ratio and aventurine use a mat released in 1.3, black swan uses a mat released in 1.2 and acheron uses a mat released in 1.0 aka launch.

it seems like an ascension mat is used for anywhere between 2-4 characters; most of the time a mat is used for 3 characters. the ones used by 4 characters are all 1.0 mats while the ones used by 2 characters are newer mats, the earliest being the searing steel blade in 1.4.

this makes misha's predicament more interesting— he is still the only unit to use the newest ice mat, released in 2.0, and we are just about heading into 2.3. we also have the drip marketing for 2.4 which ALSO doesn't feature an ice character, which is a total stretch of 4 versions. if we were to look at similar time frames, the "suppressing edict" which was only used by dh:il in 1.3 was then used in 1.6 by dr. ratio, only 3 versions later.

back to the main point i wanted to make though: there is a great chance that we will be getting new ascension mats in the coming versions. the stagnant shadows will most likely be located in either old or new luofu maps since the 2.4-2.x storyline is going back to the xianzhou alliance. what we know so far is:

yunli, a physical type character. i think she will use the "netherworld token", an older physical mat that is only used by 2 characters. because of this and because it is related to the xianzhou/luofu, she will most likely use this one rather than the ipc worker badge which was JUST released and is related to penacony instead.

jiaoqiu, a fire type. this could go to either way between the "searing steel blade" and the "raging heart". neither are related to the luofu. however, i think he will use the "searing steel blade" because it is an older mat that's still only used by 2 characters and is due for a final 3rd user. it also has the precedent of being used by another "luofu" character (although little gui technically isn't from the luofu, as we know)

march 7th and her new imaginary hunt self! i can't say for certain because there IS an imaginary mat found on the luofu but it is also already used by 3 characters. because the only mats that have 4 users are from launch and none released since then have had 4 users, i'd wager the possibility of march being introduced alongside a new imaginary mat. that way the mat is introduced with a unit of the same type within the same version. HOWEVER, this would also mean that new imaginary units are on the way.

leaks indicate that feixiao will be a wind type unit. both existing wind mats are used by 3 characters each, and the last one released was in 1.2, so it only makes sense that 2.5 arrives with a new wind unit and their corresponding mat.

leaks also speculate that moze will be a lightning type which fits with the lack of a 3rd lightning mat. if he is lightning then he will most likely be released with a new mat.

but what about the others?

lingsha and huaiyan are so far the only other 2 characters that have been announced. of course there's other names floating out there but not much that we know of them besides that. lingsha was already declared by leaks to be a fire character which means that she could slot in as the third user of the "raging heart", especially since by the time of her release (probably not until 2.6-2.7) there will have been a pass of time and the mat won't be as new.

huaiyan also has a fire motif, and while i have my doubts about his availability as a unit, he could either a) become the 4th user of either the "raging heart" or the "searing steel blade" OR be announced with a new fire mat altogether. at this point he would be starting the cycle of introducing the 4th mats for each type. it would also mean he would have to be released after lingsha to ensure that a new fire mat isn't released in the same patch as a unit that uses an older mat of the same type.

the other possibility is that lingsha and huaiyan are both playable, released in the same patch, both fire type, and both use the 4th fire type mat, since the 3rd mat "searing heart" already has 2 users with firefly and gallagher.

besides all this, there's still the glaring problem of only 1 unit using the newest ice mat, which could indicate either another xianzhou unit in the wardance story being ice OR a unit that has another unrelated story (like how 1.5 included argenti or 1.6 with dr. ratio) is ice

other info we have is that there is an upcoming galaxy ranger who is an imaginary unit AND we already know screwllum was meant to be imaginary as well, which guarantees we will see the 3rd imaginary mat regardless of if march uses it or not. there's also the fact that sunday was speculatively leaked to be imaginary but i think that's still not confirmed as reliable? regardless, there is a chance sunday is imaginary and also uses the imaginary mat OR uses a different one, OR screwllum gets pushed back EVEN MORE and he uses the 4th imaginary mat instead 💀

stephen is also apparently in the works which means he could either be ice or quantum if no other units of those types are released. that way the newest ice/quantum mats could be used.

the kicker is that i just typed this all out for like an hour and it literally does not matter in the at ALL

IN CONCLUSION

a new wind and lightning mat are (almost) guaranteed to be released soon. there's also the possibility of new imaginary units if march is released with a new mat, but we are due for the 3rd imaginary mat regardless. we are also due for at least one new fire unit to become the 3rd user of "raging heart" (or "searing steel blade" if jiaoqiu pulls a fast one on me). both quantum and physical could do for another unit to become the third user of their respective 3rd mats. however, the MOST IMPORTANT thing is that we should be expecting 1 OR 2 MORE ICE CHARACTERS to use the 3rd ice mat.

thank you for coming to my literal pointless tedtalk.

#hsr spoilers #hsr leaks #hsr #god i hope no one reads this

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outofthiisworld · 10 months ago

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@viopolis sent in: ۞ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ send me a "۞" and I'll introduce you to one of my other muses

[🔥] An ash storm had breached past the imposing stone wall, known to the locals as The Bulwark— Raven Rock's main defense against invading bandits, the smoldering ash from Red Mountain, and as well as it's own dreaded ash spawn that litter the ravaged wastes of the island.

Yet, still the storm persisted; whipping up the market streets in a thick cloak of smoke and ash.

Unprotected and ill-prepared as any outlander would be upon first arrival onto Solstheim's shores: your lungs suffocated and eyes watered under the full brunt of the ash— you were forced to seek shelter into THE RETCHING NETCH.

The cornerclub bustled with activity, a rarity that you were unaware of for this time of day, but it seemed that everyone else had a similar thought long before you. A rough COUGH wheezed out of your throat, yet no one flinched at the intrusion as you dusted off the sand & ash that coated your duster (this seemed to be the norm, you noted, as you soon heard another WHEEZED COUGH from further within).

While no one seemed to pay attention to an outlander such as yourself— you had caught the eye of only one, who watched you like a hawk behind a carefully crafted, chitin mask.

He rested beside a roaring fire-spit, head tilted as you coughed up more cinders that tickled deep in your throat. He huffed a laugh as you wiped at your burning eyes.

"You'll just make it worse if you keep rubbing your eyes like that," He called out to you, voice full of gravel and oil.

"New to the ash, outlander? Seems to me that YOU are in need of a GUIDE."

The masked stranger barked another laugh as you desperately tried to blink the ash away, before he handed you a worn rag.

"TELDRYN SERO— the best SWORDSMAN in all of MORROWIND! I'd be more than happy to offer you my services while you traverse in this wretched wasteland ... ah, for the right price, that is."

Oh, great. Just your luck: a mercenary.

#viopolis #// writing this as if it's a choose-your-own-adventure or a reader insert pick your poison #//[RATTLES THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE] TELDRRRRRYYYYYYYYNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!#//im very normal about him. i miss writing him so much.......... even made a lil icon for him just for this #//i never rp'ed him out in the wild but i've wrote him on my own time on and off since 2014. sighs longingly #//there's been many times where i thought about bringing him onto this blog before. even giving him a scifi-twist to really get indulgent #//i then scold myself not to bite off more than i can chew #//revisiting him is........re-inflicting me with brain rot again...............#//anyway. if there's a side character with not a lot of content and funny lines you know boo is gonna hyperfixate on them #ᯓ👽˖° asks #ᯓ👽˖° ooc #ᯓ👽˖° drabble

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realm-sweet-realm · 2 years ago

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The Rise of Team Skull, chapter 3: A Leader’s Loyalty

This is a story that goes through Guzma’s backstory, from childhood to fairly close to Sun and Moon’s canon.

It looks like I’ll have one more chapter after this, but it’ll be a shorter one.

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Guzma was okay. Plumeria let him and Golisopod stay the night, and the next day he started rooming with a twenty-year-old member of Team Skull.

Time passed. Team Skull eventually subsumed Team Crossbones after their leader disappeared. Once they consolidated power, they had access to a boat, which took them to their new home base: the rish but already declining Po Town. After they rolled in, the gang fights, loudness and illicit trade drove every person with any sense to leave town, leaving a decaying village of squatters in fancy houses that Ula’ula’s police chief didn’t even want to bother with. It had a thriving black market, a young and tightly knit population, and no one to tell them what to do. Everyone on Ula’ula, heck, probably all of Alola, knew that it was the place to get anything you want, and get away with anything. Team Skull no longer had to lift a finger when it came to recruitment, because disillusioned youth, the failures, the abused, those with nowhere to go- they knew where to find them. It was paradise, and, living in a no longer well-maintained mansion with several of his closest grunts, Guzma was its king.

And then, reality set in. Guzma remembered exactly where he was when the power had gone out: he was in the shower when the lights turned out and the water turned cold. At the moment, he’d thought one of his buddies was playing a trick on him, but he quickly learned that everyone else was having the same problem. Days passed, and the power didn’t turn back on. Not only that, their landlines stopped working. Their water stopped working. On day three, one of their tech savvy members figured out one of the problems: Po Town had been taken off the power grid.

Police Chief Nanu might not have wanted to bother with law enforcement in the rat’s nest that was Po Town, but it seemed like Ula’ula had found another way to try to drive them back into the loving arms of society. Many did quit after that. Guzma couldn’t blame them: working for The Man doesn’t seem so bad when it’s the only way to get working lights and warm showers. But a lot the members were teenagers with nowhere to go, or young adults with no education who’d never known anything else. To make matters worse, Po Town wasn’t the party spot it used to be without a way to light up the night. The contraband business was flailing, and many members of Team Skull were resorting to petty theft in nearby towns just to get by.

A month into the power crisis, Guzma called Plumeria in for a little meeting. It would take place in his room. He’d leave it unlocked.

Plumeria hadn’t been in Guzma’s room before. She and Guzma spent loads of time together, but even during parties, he kept the it locked. The room was about what Plumeria expected. Between the clutter on the floor and the windows being the only light source, she had to watch her step just to step through it. Beside Guzma’s bed, Golisopod was curled up in an oversized pet bed. Plumeria smiled, sat down on the bed, and stroked its rough chitin. Then, she noticed the holes in the walls. They were at perfect kicking and punching height. Maybe that was why he never let anyone in.

Guzma arrived and awkwardly slid onto the bed beside her.

“So,” he started, “This ain’t right. These kids deserve better than this. They can’t even watch their Goddamn TVs. They’re worried about where their next meal’s gonna come from. It feels like I’m holding everyone back.”

“Are you thinking of disbanding?” Plumeria asked. It was something she’d feared for a while.

“NO!” Guzma yelled, pounding his fists against the mattress and waking his golisopod. “Where the Hell would I go if I did that? To my parents? I ain’t throwin’ in the towel yet. But we need money. Money for generators to get this town lit up again and get the contraband sellin’. So I was thinking… I’m still eighteen. What if I became a trial captain?”

“It’s a good idea, and it’s noble of you to do this when you don’t even like Pokémon battling. Not that you couldn’t do it, but what if I tried to become a trial captain instead? Or we could have a contest and see who the best battler on Team Skull is. I mean, you need the endorsement of three of the kahunas to become a trial captain. Shouldn’t we use someone who Nanu doesn’t already know by face and name?”

“I’ll convince the other three. And who said I don’t like Pokémon battling?” Guzma replied. Golisopod slid under Guzma’s hand for pats. “You’ve seen me go wild with this guy. It’s fun. Yeah, I used to think I hated it, but well, maybe I just hated everything that came with it back home, y’know?”

Plumeria nodded in understanding. Aggressive houndooms. Beatings. Failing to live up to expectations he didn’t even care about. Who wouldn’t hate that?

“And anyhow, I gotta show Team Skull that I’m still on top of things and I’m still looking after em’. I gotta prove I’m on top or someone’s gonna try to knock me off the throne. I can feel it.”

“I think they’re more loyal than you know,” Plumeria said.

“Heh. Yeah. But the world is what it is. No one likes a screw-up.” Guzma got up. “Alright. Tomorrow, I set out. You can handle the team while I’m gone?

“Of course.”

“Great. Thanks for talkin’.”

As planned, the next day Guzma announced his plan to an interested Team Skull. With Golisopod, he beat enough trainers on Ula’Ula to win the money for a boat ticket to Melemele, where the easiest trials were. Before heading there, he caught a spinerak and a dewpider- there was already a water-type trial captain and there was no way he wasn’t using Golisopod as his ace, so bugs it was. Turned out, Guzma had a liking for them. Then, it was time to head to Melemele. His first trial didn’t worry him- it was just the normal-type trial. He’d managed this one on all three of his attempts as a kid, and it wasn’t any harder this time. A quick clawing from Golisopod was all it took to take down the totem Gumshoos. Next was the grand trial against Hala. He was not looking forward to that.

Guzma put his hood up as he entered Iki Town, the place he’d gone to school and his father had worked, and tried not to look too weird as he scanned the area for anyone who might recognize him. He was three years older now, four inches taller, somewhat broader, and he’d dyed his hair. Maybe no one would recognize him.

After a bit of searching, Guzma found Hala. Guzma put down his hood. No matter how much he wanted to hide right now, he needed Hala’s endorsement, so he had to make a good impression.

Guzma grabbed the man’s shoulder to get his attention.

Hala turned to meet him. “Guzma? My, it’s been years. How are you doing, son?”

“Fine,” Guzma answered. “And I’m here for the grand trial. Don’t go easy on me this time.” He had in Guzma’s three trials in the past. And even before that, he’d covertly given Guzma the occasional bronze medal he hadn’t earned at pre-journey Pokémon tournaments when his dad wasn’t there to watch him. Hala was a wise mentor to some, but to Guzma, he was just another adult who knew what was going on with him and hadn’t done anything substantial to help.

“It’s good to see that things turned out alright for you. You worried everyone when you disappeared,” the kahuna said. “As for the trial, we can start right now. How many islands have you cleared?”

“One.”

“Excellent. I have my one-island team on me already.”

Soon, the two trainers were facing off against each other on separate sides of an arena.

“Guzma…” Hala said as he got into position. “I can already tell that you’ve come a long way since we last met. The very fact that you’re here, battling for your own reasons, is proof of that. I promise you that I won’t hold back. I want to see what you’re capable of.”

Guzma got into position on the other side of the arena. “Then you’re in luck. You’re about to experience destruction in human form.”

Hala smiled. Then, he threw his first pokéball, from which lept a mankey. Guzma threw out his Golisopod.

“Shell smash,” Guzma ordered, and Golisopod broke out of a layer of its plating.

“Karate chop!” Hala returned. Even with its defence lowered, Golisopod took the blow like it was nothing. Golisopod had to be absurdly overlevelled compared to a team designed for a trainer’s first grand trial, but Guzma wasn’t fighting just to win. He was here to impress, to show off some strategy.

“Shell smash again!”

“Sand attack!”

Golisopod fully broke out of its armour and the Mankey shoved sand in its eyes.

“Hm. Good move. Thought you’d waste my set-up by making his accuracy too low to hit anything. But I got other tricks up my sleeve. Golisopod, baton pass.”

“Pursuit!” Hala called out.

Golisopod took the pursuit on its way out, but even that only did modest damage. Spinerak came out next, wearing a choice band and practically vibrating from the speed and attack boosts Golisopod had passed onto it. Guzma grinned as saw how astounded Hala was.

“Spinerak, pluck,” Guzma demanded. Fear in its eyes, the mankey tried to scamper away from Spinerak, but it pounced and pounced hard, knocking it to the ground and giving it a savage tear on the shoulder with its mandibles. One hit was all it took to leave the mankey defeated on the ground.

Guzma looked Hala in the eyes. “That’s gonna be your whole team, ain’t it?”

Hala didn’t answer as he returned his mankey and took out his makuhita.

“Pluck,” Guzma ordered, and his spinerak lept into action.

“Counter,” Hala returned, and the smug grin fell right off Guzma’s face. The makuhita dodged out of Spinerak’s way, grabbed it, and used its momentum to send it careening into the ground. It had fainted, just as sure as it would have otherwise defeated the other Pokémon.

Guzma grit his teeth and returned his spinerak. He could win this with Golisopod’s pure power alone, but that wasn’t good enough. He needed to make a good impression, dang it. At very least, he could show the one other trick he had up his sleeve.

“Dewpider! Out and use rain dance!”

“Makuhita, low sweep!”

The little spider got onto its hind legs and shook its body, and rain clouds coalesced, raining down water on the battlefield. As it did so, the makuhita came in and swept the dewpider off of its feet. When it got up, it was keeping one of its back legs off of the ground. There was a good chance it wouldn’t outspeed its opponent anymore with the speed debuff.

Even if dewpider can take another hit, there’s no way it can one-shot that makuhita, and I don’t trust it to take two more attacks. It’ll look best if I go full power now. “Dewpider, return! Golisopod, come on out and use razor shell!”

As it landed on the battlefield, he giant bug’s armoured arms went aglow with water-type energy. The makuhita’s mouth fell open and it tried to dodge away from the savage attack, but it was no use. A few slashes and the little fighting type was knocked defeated to the ground.

“That’s quite a powerful Pokémon for your first trial,” Hala commented.

“Uh-huh. You’d better have something real strong for your last mon’, or this ain’t even gonna be a challenge.”

“Very well,” Hala said, throwing his last Pokéball. A crabrawler popped out of it. “arial ace,” he commanded.

“razor shell.”

Golisopod got the first hit, striking crabrawler fearsomely. The crabrawler struck back with an uppercut that knocked Golisopod onto its back. After taking so many hits, some of them with defense debuffs, he was starting to look pretty beat up. It was a good thing that he had the speed advantage.

“Quick attack!” Hala commanded.

“Slash!” Guzma returned.

Thankfully, Golisopod endured the hit, and with one more strike of its claws, the crabrawler was defeated. Delighted, Golisopod ran back to Guzma’s side for head scratches.

Hala clapped slowly. “Congratulations. You’ve passed your first grand trial.” Hala took a quick look around to make sure that no one was watching. Then, he crossed the arena.

Guzma stood up straight to look Hala in the eye.

“Listen. I’m sorry that I didn’t help you when you were young. The truth is, no one knew what to do. So, is there a reason why you’re using all bug types?”

Guzma blushed. He wasn’t expecting positive treatment from an authority figure, especially one from Melemele. “Uh… yeah. I’m gonna be a trial captain.”

Hala smiled. “You’ll have my endorsement.”

Guzma’s trials were clear sailing from there. He swept through Akala island, which had defeated him on his three childhood attempts, putting in a successful show of strategy in his grand trial against Olivia. Her endorsement seemed a hopeful thing as well. Next was Ula’ula, where he had the support of his fellow Team Skull members as he swept the island. Nanu all but refused to perform his challenge, and Guzma enjoyed defeating him with pure power. By that point, his team consisted of Golisopod, a scizor, an ariados, a pinsir, and an araquanid: powerful and well-suited for the last kahuna. While he did insist that they ditch their uniforms, Guzma decided to bring two of his grunts along to Poni island. Hapu was more trouble than Guzma expected, and he ended up having to take down her last three Pokémon with Golisopod alone, but he managed.

Hapu returned her fainted mudsdale. “Congratulations. You’ve beaten all the island trials,” Hapu said. “Between the all-bug team and the way were showing off in the beginning, I have a feeling that you’re looking for more than just a Z-crystal.”

Guzma smirked. “Yep. I’m thinking of setting up a trial in Ula’Ula meadow. Lots of different bugs there, good paths, it’ll be great.”

Hapu nodded. “I’ll call the other kahunas over for your meeting. See us at Malie City Hall first thing tomorrow. You have my endorsement, and if you can get two more, we’ll instate you.”

“Alright. Nice doing business with you,” Guzma said, giving the tiny farmer a handshake and restraining an unprofessional urge to shiver with excitement. This was actually happening!

The next day, Guzma sat in some office in City Hall, face-to-face with the four kahunas. A cameraman filmed the event, which would air live on news stations around Alola.

“Alright,” Hapu began, clearly commanding the room. “You know the rules. Three of us have to agree to endorse Guzma for him to become a trial captain. Slap the table when your vote is final. I for one do endorse him. He clearly knows his way around bug Pokémon, and kids these days ought to know more about them. He even was a location picked out.”

“I endorse him, too,” Olivia said. “He showed me that he knows every battle strategy in the book. He’ll make a great trial captain.”

“I don’t,” Nanu said, halfheartedly slapping the table. “You two don’t know him. He and his band of thugs ruined a once-prosperous city. They steal. They vandelize. They contribute nothing to society. It wouldn’t be right to uphold a petty criminal like him as a role model for children.”

Hala’s mouth hung open. “Is that true?” he asked Guzma. The two female kahunas looked at each other anxiously.

“I had to do what I had to do to get out of Melemele and you know why. But I’m trying to turn over a new leaf here. Please, just help me out.” Guzma hated lying, and he hated pleading. But he had to do what he had to do.

Hala looked down at the table, his brow furrowed, and said nothing. He looked as though he was deep in thought.

“I’ll still endorse him,” Olivia said, slapping the table. “It’ll show kids that they can turn themselves around. I think that’s a good idea- after all, it’s not just kids from good backgrounds that do trials.”

“That does sound like a good idea,” Hapu replied. “Hala?”

Hala was still deep in thought.

Guzma couldn’t take the tension anymore. “Hey, you said you would endorse me,” he reminded Hala. A silent moment passed. Guzma got up from his seat. “You said you were sorry for leaving me in a bad situation. And now you’re gonna do it again cuz I had the balls to fend for myself!?” he yelled.

A hand slapped the table. It was Hapu’s. “I revoke my endorsement. Maybe the past should be in the past, but our past teaches us how to act. I won’t have a trial captain who would threaten a coworker.”

It was then that Guzma realized that he was in a fighting stance. He uncurled his fists and stopped standing over Hala, who refused to look him in the eye.

��Well, meeting adjourned,” Hala said, sounding almost as defeated as Guzma felt.

#pokemon #skull boss guzma #plumeria #team skull #golisopod #kahuna hala #kahuna hapu #my fanfiction

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