#Cyborg Cosmos

[ant1quarian]

CC!Killer

He's a pretty boy

And is also somewhere around 14ft tall. He specialises in agility and battle prowess.

[megabyste]

in the workshop

[dashaskywheels]

💛 SALTY DTIYS 💜

Meet my original sona - cyborg dragon Salty (she/her) 🦾

To participate: • like & reblog • draw Salty in your style (anthro or feral dragon form) • post your art with #dashasaltyDTIYS and tag me

✨ Rules: SFW rating. Art format, background, pose at your choice. If you want to draw Salty with your friendly oc, then ask me 😊 DTIYS is also held on my other art platforms. Salty is my sona, original character, designed by me.

✨ Among all the entries, I will hold a raffle for a free digital portrait (any species, alternative style)! Results of September 27 💫 If there are many entries, I can also add one secret prize for most atmospheric art.

✨ Notes: Wings, tail and all other elements always exist in feral form. The hair is gray with brown strands. The rings near the ears, wings, tail and claws are holographic and can disappear in anthro form.

[aytonai]

Deep In Uncanny Valley

[eroutesque]

Universe reversed.

There is no beyond left,

Only within.

The galaxy is slowly blooming

In the core of your heart.

While everything else

is rotting.

Close your eyes,

Secret gates,

don’t let anybody in.

A hidden galaxy on Earth,

devoured by your mind.

Eventually

you get beyond Earth.

The remains of your galaxy

caged on Earth,

while you are gone.

Set free.

Fractal chain,

It shines so fine in your eyes.

Black hole of your irises,

a cursed magnet

of a lonely soul gone insane.

Remember, you are not alone.

Right here and now,

You are not alone suffering.

Remember,

right here and now,

someone is suffering

as much pain as you do.

We are together in this:

different circumstances,

but sharing same pain,

it’s a fair deal,

this is our common reality.

Universe reversed…

[electric-alt-cookie]

LOG 4202:10;61

“ATTENTION CITIZENS OF BLUESTAR. V.ALOE HAS BEEN CLASSIFIED AS A TRAITOR UNDER ARTICLE VI. REPORT ANY SUSPICIOUS BEHAVIOR.” 

The air flew past them like wind. The scientist had simply no choice but to run. Their eyes started to rust from the tears streaming down their face. Don't think about it. Don't think about it. 

Was this how Caramel felt during the war?  This was simply horrible. Aloe wasn’t particularly agile like how Lemon was or even Cyborg for that matter. They shouldn't have tried to put up a fight against Raspberry Iced Tea! They berated themselves for that. 

To lose someone dear to them again… for the third time. That was the final straw. They had to have done something… but fist-fighting a trained royal guard was not the way to do it. Who knows! They could be puddled right here and now! Aloe couldn't let their fears get to them. They had to find Lemon and Cyborg immediately. 

They haven't left the castle yet… This would be a long shot for the scientist, but they knew their way around here thanks to Starflower's old tours and casual snack breaks. They could go towards the prison. They could jailbreak Cyborg. Aloe absolutely hated the thought of committing another treasonous action towards their planet, but things had to be done. Tea needed to be stopped at once. 

Corridors everywhere. Aloe maneuvered left, left, straight, right, left, etc. with no end in sight. They needed to lose the royal guards first. It was times like these that they wished they had gotten closer to the other Bluestar royal. 

Thankfully Tea wasn't on Aloe's tail. That was the one saving grace right now. If Tea had been here, Aloe would have perished quite a bit sooner. The royal guard may be smart, but Aloe was a genius when it came to calculating on the fly.

“Stars… forgive me for this.” They prayed to the now-fallen friend. 

A terminal near the prison caught Aloe's attention as they pulled out a small device and a wire from their coat pocket. Brute Forcing their way into the prison was out of the question, but if they could do this fast enough…

“00110011 00110000 00110011 00110010 00110000…”  

“Stop! Turn yourself in at once!” The guards flew towards Aloe quickly, their mouth wide open from being in shock. Aloe braced themselves for impact as the guards pointed their weapons straight at the NeoAzul: Guns loaded with electricity stronger than whatever Lemon or Cyborg could produce, presumably harvested from the endless electrical storm on the other side of the planet.

Back facing towards the guards, Aloe protected their computer from the potential shocks. They put their hands up in defeat as the computer was set on the floor. This was the end of the line for them. 

As the guards drew near, a small click was heard from the terminal. A door came crashing down, separating the incoming guards from Aloe's current location. The scientist slowly lowered their hands. 

“Haha… HAHA…” They couldn't help but erupt into laughter. “I can't believe that worked!!” They picked up their computer giddily. They continued on further breathing heavily. Hacking into the security system was no easy feat. From there, the scientist hurriedly scuttered to the prison where they were certain that Cyborg was held. With the override of the security protocol, all of the cells, if not most of them, should have been unlocked. Even on the run, their hubris was undefeated in regard to their knowledge of technology. 

Aloe busted down the door with their right leg. 

“Was about time you showed up!!” Cyborg had their blaster against a poor guard’s head, making it spark as an intimidation tactic as the guard was on the floor face down, even if the guard was already unconscious. “I’m really, REALLY mad at you right now, but right now we have to bust Knighty out!” 

Aloe couldn’t help but smirk at Cyborg’s angry expression. It was endearing to them that Cyborg was so… Cyborg. With all the events that transpired in the past few days, it brought them a strange sort of comfort. 

“Cyborg…” Aloe sighed softly, even letting out a silent chuckle. 

“What’s so funny?! We just witnessed an execution AND an intergalactic marriage!!” They were fuming but genuinely wanted to know why Aloe was acting in such a way at a time like this.

“I’m just feeling nostalgic… to times before the war, I suppose. Come on. We need to find Lemon before we can think about stopping Z.Raspberry.” They grimaced calling Tea by their new title, but it was the least they could do to not get randomly puddled. Aloe put their hand on their scouter to calculate a new route after blocking the previous route where guards might be stationed still. 

“If I may,” White Choco emerged from behind Cyborg, “There should be a gate that is not nearly as supervised near the back exit of the palace. We could potentially take a ship from the docking area near there, gather supplies, and find both Lemon and Knight under the guise of a NeoAzullian soldier.”

“Surprisingly perceptive,” Aloe nodded, “If I can override the mainframe on the ship we could use it as a cloak of some sort… It might allow us some time to search for our friends. Cyborg could masquerade as a citizen if we fit them in the proper attire.”

“I’m doing what now-” 

“Fitting in as a citizen. You have the physical attributes of a NeoAzullian. All you would have to do is pilot the vessel while we work in the shadows. Of course, there comes the question if you can even pilot a ship-”

“Shut up! I can do it just fine if you teach me.” Cyborg huffed. They made sure the guard was unconscious before floating up into the air slightly to match Aloe’s height. 

“Then it’s settled. We must hurry quickly.” Aloe motioned for the two to come quickly. Their large coat swayed in the wind created by the quick turnaround towards their new route. Cyborg and White Choco followed along hurriedly. There was no time to spare in Aloe’s eyes.

[soupotown70]

Toon June Day 20: Stretch

[g-h-o-s-t-2000]

MICRO STORY

There were footsteps, voices, strange noises. Someone was moving in the dark. Suddenly, it seemed to us as if a faint and deceitful glow began to insinuate itself in the center of the room.

-What is it?

-States your names!

A number of unusual phenomena took place. Everything was quite unexplainable. Disappearance of reports, objects, even persons or mysterious impregnations of spectral images on walls.

It appears that the oldest craters on the planet Mercury have had very strong erosion, possibly due to large temperature changes ranging from 623 K (350 °C) per day to 103 K (170 °C) at night.

[kurakisses]

⟡ ⠀rather unexpected⠀⠀⊹⠀⠀ guns n' roses & you

gn reader. poly relationship later on, reader is just messing around with them here, might be not fully canon-compliant. argenthill is established.

wandering through the intricate cosmos, the knight of beauty and the cowboy met by mere chance.

they had several encounters, and exchanged ideals, words and opinions in brief conversations.

boothill was attracted to the singularity of the man.

it was unusual for the cowboy that someone would not avoid him just because he was a wanted criminal, and that he would go out of his way to praise every aspect of him.

argenti had never seen a cyborg so… beautiful. he was completely captivated by his body, every part of it and the complexity of it— it was simply spectacular.

and just as the two of them met and began a curious and unexpected relationship through these encounters, they found you during their many travels.

over and over again; you were always there, on some distant planet or star.

they knew nothing about you, beyond your voice, unique appearance and… curious ability to be everywhere at once.

it was both an ethereal and ominous feeling

why didn't boothill's bullets reach you?

why were you oblivious to argenti's voice?

you seemed to disappear in icy frost every time they tried to get close to you.

you were unconscious of how peculiar you were to both of them, and you played along with the little cat-and-mouse chase you had meticulously orchestrated. the company of these two was not bothersome, after all.

however; every symphony comes to an end and although aha's ballad danced along with you, you were exhausted after what seemed like months of empty haunting.

you were unaware then that this would be the prelude to a everlasting, gentle orchestra.

“good evening, gentlemen”

your voice was as cold as winter itself, and the hands positioned on his shoulders felt like a sharp sickle blade.

soon you would feel a gun and a spear kissing your cheeks, and a faint smile would appear on your lips.

you closed your eyes, forming crescents as you felt the spear separate with an agonized sigh.

“forgive me, i had no idea it was about you. it has never been my intention to appear hostile.”

his voice genuinely sounded distraught

in comparison to the cowboy, who was still pointing at you with a determined frown on his face.

argenti tried to convince him to greet you differently, but his words seemed to be silent to the cyborg.

you watched the interaction with amusement, grin gradually widening

“how could i trust someone who has only been giving us trouble all this time?”

you felt boothill's finger bury itself in the trigger of his gun

in a split second the shot echoed out, bullet stuck in a far wall while behind both of their backs you laughed.

you feared for a few seconds that the cyborg's action would cause you harm, but you trusted blindly in your abilities to get you out of that predicament.

you wanted to have fun with them, to prolong the interactions as a dramatic finale to a lively score. it never crossed your mind to hurt them in any way— you were as attracted to them as they were to you.

you covered your mouth with one of your hands, the cowboy's hat resting on your head as if that was its place.

although in your opinion that's where it should stay

it's not as if you didn't know the implications of that action.

“you…!” the cyborg looked dumbfounded, his companion equally surprised

“no need to resort to violence, 'hill. i've been merciful, greeting you properly, and now you want to scare me away?”

but you were a curious fool

even if they tried to get rid of you, you would continue to accompany them on their travels through the starry firmament.

argenti mentioned something about how charming it was the way you could evade them at will.

boothill seemed more annoyed by it than captivated.

and while you were listening to argenti's nice words, he kept aiming at you and making several attempts to remove the hat.

it wasn't until the knight of beauty approached his partner to give him a gentle kiss on his cheek that he stopped.

genuinely, he completely stopped

you burst out laughing at the sight of the puzzled face of the criminal, his eyes almost showing blue screens due to the suddenness of that action

you returned the hat to its owner as he remained frozen.

“if they had any intention of harming us, they would have done it by now, darling.”

argenti was right

you just wanted to get closer to them, that was all.

wasn't it?

inspo from jadestone2's roses 'n bullets for her.

part two

[lemonmaid]

Imagine Alpha BootHill....

Warnings: gender neutral reader, pregnant reader. Fluff with small angst.

He meets you, a single unmated pregnant omega working like a dog at a saloon in the middle of nowhere, on a dusty abandoned old mining planet.

He is very interested in you right on the bat, I mean, you can say the same thing about him. It's not every day you see a cyborg.

He comes in everyday for the past month, from noon to closing. Always asking for you to serve him.

One night he asked you out for a date.

"Oh, come on, it will be fun! Just us two- three, I mean. " He smiles down at your stomach.

You hummed, "I mean if it meets your fancy... but where? Boothill, we are in the middle of a desert.....".

He smirks, "I know a good spot."

You raise an eyebrow at him, "you know a spot but you been here almost everyday?".

"Can't I be a gentleman?"

"Can't you do your job?".

Before Boothill could reply, a blonde hair man came storming in; blabbering about Boothill taking too long and dragging the cyborg out of the Saloon.

For the next week, Boothill didn't show up to the saloon, making your omega whine at the fact. One night after closing, you noticed him waiting for you at the door.

"Let me walk you home".

You nodded, taking his hand.

Thanks to the planet's atmosphere, the sky shined bright of stars and cosmos. It was so beautiful. What was more beautiful is how the three moons reflected off Boothill's metal body, the soft white glow, it brought out the white streaks in his hair.

"Here" you say in a trance.

Silence between you too, it was kinda awkward, I mean, here you are in the presence of an alpha.

"I wanna court you-"

"But, I'm-".

"I don't care about that, I wanna give you what you deserve".

You bit your lip, your scent filled with anxiety, "what about your job with the Galaxy Rangers?".

"I want you to come with".

"Space is no place for a pup to live in, it's too dangerous and unstructured".

"I still want you, that will never change love". Boothill sighed before taking off his hat, "I may be... a quarter of the alpha I used to be. I'm reckless, pin-headed, hell I don't even got a scent anymore, I can't even feel anything anymore. But I do damn know that you... your scent... it's making me feel something I haven't felt in a hot minute... so please... let me court you... we can make this work". Boothill grabs your hands, putting them on his face, wanting to finally feel ya, "please just think about it".

You nodded your head, allowing him inside of your small home. He wrapped his arms around you hugging you, almost crushing. "Thank you, thank you thank you". He mumbled. You rubbed his head, noticing a faint smell, you laugh.

"What?".

You smile, before taking a deeper whiff os the small and faint scent, "You say you don't have a scent, but right behind ya ear.... I smell you..... your scent is... comforting... stuipd cyborg".

Boothill went stiff before letting small tears poke the corner of his eye. He laughs too, joining your fit of laughter.

This was rushed, I had the idea had to write it down fast lol and I'm now getting into honkai 😭

[akutasoda]

Ermmmm adding onto the puppet!reader… what if they’re a creation the same way Raiden Shogun or Kuni is to Ei (minus the abandonment and whatnot??)

a Cyborg who grew up in a humble family but had everything ripped away from him, now existing not just for himself but to reenact justice and revenge through the cosmos.

Then theres a Puppet who’s essentially “born” into royalty due to being the creation of a ruler, whose purpose is to maintain order in their land.

I had a vision, sorta

and a brilliant vision at that!

boothill had a humble upbring with a family that was forged through compassion and care, yet you had everything. you're sole purpose was to be crafted into royalty to then take your creators place yet no amount of family could be felt. the only thing you two had in common was your lack of humanity.

the ipc had forced his hand into seeking out revenge but it was still ultimately his choice to shed himself of his remaining humanity. you never had a say, you're creator created you for a sole purpose that was dictated from the very minute you became alive. and in that way you could almost be envious that boothill was no more human than you were yet he still had control over his future.

[ant1quarian]

Would anyone be interested in me writing a CC!Avians x Reader story?

'Cause like. I'm not gonna lie. I love those guys. They're so awesome.

[megabyste]

[rxzennia]

farewell; let's meet again

– inspired in song 

✎𓂃 pilgrimage of repentance, maigo hanyuu. this song would fit so well with one of my ocs… maybe some other day. i've been meaning to launch this series for so long and it's finally here! (confetti) this isn't quite the intended debut work, but oh well. a bit short, just under 1k.

what's the point in feeling guilty if you can't repent? what's the point in apologizing if you know for a fact that no forgiveness will be bestowed upon you?

boothill, the legendary cyborg gunslinger hailing from your little planet in the corner of the cosmos, and someone whom you've stood by proudly. someone who you've once called your lover, someone who was once the home you returned to every night.

the smell of dynamite, of charred crops, of burning flesh, all of it still remains fresh in your mind; if you close your eyes long enough, you can almost feel the flames on your skin, taking you, too, into its warm embrace.

it would've been a fitting end.

you remained on aeragan-epharshel after the ipc's raid

whether out of your own will or a twisted turn of fate, you cannot say

you can't ever dream of atoning for what you've done, anyways

when explosives cased in metal descended upon your planet, you were safely hidden away in one of the ipc's ships

because you shook hands with them

you played buddy-buddy with the destroyers of your world

why

why.

why?

you can't say for sure, and you weren't even sure if you knew what motivated you

money? power? connections? petty revenge? 

you didn't know – you don't know

when you found out that boothill had taken on the skin of an ipc employee to seek the blood of the true perpetrator, you knew.

not of the intention behind your actions, but of the consequences. your own undoing.

the village hunter that everyone admired, the man whose heart you wished to know, the family man who loved without regrets…

you killed him. you stripped him of his world when you threw yours away. you were an accomplice.

the coward that you are, you didn't tell him

how could you?

he's lost everything, and you want to kick him when he's down?

so you kept your mouth shut – still keeps it shut

you've taken up the post of a leader, looking after whatever remains of your civilization

no one knows of your involvement in the destruction of their livelihoods

so much so that sometimes you can almost delude yourself into thinking you've never done anything wrong

almost

until you see the fire in the fireplace, remembering the carnage that you indirectly caused

and you feel like you could die, let the heat take you to a faraway place to never return

but you're not selfish enough to do that. to die here is to run away, forsaking the people who were lost, and forsaking those who still remain. an act of cowardice – and that's exactly what you are, isn't it?

no one needs to know of your sin, and no one needs to know what occupies your troubled mind. your repentance doesn't need to be known by anyone but you, because you're selfish. you don't want to face the consequences of your own actions, you don't want to face the wrath of your neighbors, you don't want boothill to inevitably point his gun at you.

whenever you imagine his hatred directed towards you…

the same hatred that drives his hunt for oswaldo, aimed at you…

you feel your very existence being ripped into pieces

even so, you wouldn't blame him

you can't blame him

it's all your fault, your fault, your fault, so who else is there to blame but you?

every time someone in your settlement thanks you for coordinating resource exchanges with other settlements, you can barely muster up enough strength to nod

when the elderly hold your hand and tell you how nice it is to have young people stick around…

you can't say a word

you can't even breathe, because you'd cry the moment you opened your mouth

they're thanking the wrong person

you're the sinner who they should never forgive

the one whose actions triggered it all

you idly scribble away at your desk, noting down the schedules of the black ore miners, the routine inspections, whenever a bigshot comes by… all for the tiniest hope that this will eventually serve boothill in some way.

in fact, you've been gathering a lot of these things. the ipc's technologies, gossips, performance reviews, the mundane things, you've been documenting all of them. 

when boothill returns to aeragan-epharshel for whatever reason, you'll find it in yourself to face him again. this time as an ally; you'll act for his cause, walk by his side, while you maintain the distance that you've placed between you.

you have no right to take his hand again

you've alienated yourself, you've chosen the path you want to take – a path for one, and one only

so you won't claim to be lonely.

you're not lonely at all.

your duty still calls for you

there are still things that you must do before you can rest

you, you, you… you alone.

when you don't see a future for yourself, you can only pray that such fate doesn't befall someone else. 

your roads have diverged too far to be reconciled. boothill as a galaxy ranger, and you, as a mere leader of a local tribe who carries the weight of your transgressions.

you sit alone at the cliff where you once watched countless sunrises and sunsets, where there used to be a time where someone was next to you, where you laughed innocently like foolish children.

as you reminisce, you feel glad

glad that you haven't held him down with the weight of your guilt

glad that you haven't been a burden to him

glad that you let him go when you did

you'll always be here, you think, waiting for his return

just as the sun still rise and set every day

your lives go on, until they converge again

if second chances do exist…

if the aeons have answered his anguish… then let your repentance be heard, too.

[astr0-physcs]

if enough people like this, i will continue it smiley face

“Well fork me and call me the President.”

You screeched to a halt. That grating metallic country accent fills your ears, and you turn around slowly. You're met face to face with the cyborg that made your blood boil. Boothill. As a member of the IPC, the Galaxy Rangers were the last thing you wanted to see right now. Especially him.

“Didn't expect your grimy ass to show up ‘round these parts.” He smirks, confident. You resist the urge to punch him in the only remaining human part of his body.

“I can assure you, my ass is not grimy. There's no need to project onto me.” You snap back, cocking your hips to the side.

"Relax," Boothill drawled, his southern accent thick as honey. "Ain't lookin' for no trouble. Just here on a lil' job, same as you."

The air between them was thick with hatred, and the tension was palpable. You had a history—an ugly, complicated one.

Your eyes narrowed. "Not here for trouble? That's rich coming from you. You're trouble with a capital T."

Boothill chuckled, a sound that dug into your nerves. "Now ain't that the pot callin' the kettle black. You're no saint yourself, sugar."

You bristled, not liking how Boothill seemed to see right through you. You clenched your fists, fighting the urge to punch him. "I don't need a Galaxy Ranger of all people giving me a lecture.” Rolling your eyes, you turn around, trying to end the conversation. You approach the front desk, smiling tightly at the woman.

“Hi, room for ____.” You say, preparing to give the woman your invitation. The woman smiles.

“I'm sorry, that room is reserved for Mr. Boothill.” You freeze, eyes going wide.

“Im… I'm sorry-?” You were cut off by an arm slinging around you, unbalancing you.

“Yeah, that's us. Sorry for the confusion, ma’am.” Boothill smiled. You try to wriggle out from his arm, but he holds you fast.

“Is- Is this some kind of joke?” You say. Boothill laughs, shaking you around slightly.

“Why would this be a joke, sugar? We’ve got a room to share.” Boothill thanked the woman, taking the room keys. He leads you over to the elevator, pressing the button.

“That is ridiculous! I- I didn't sign up for this-” Boothill cut you off again. “Awh, don't worry. Think of it as a way to catch up with your old pal.”

You bristle again, trying to get out of his arm. “I think I'll pass. I want nothing more to do with you.”

Boothill jostles you again, and you resist punching him in public. “Don't be like that. Sure there's something to talk about. Like the murders…?”

You pause, finally looking him in the eyes. “How did you-”

“Ah, elevators here.”

You two step into the elevator, Boothill’s arm still slung around your shoulders.

“Fine. But ONLY the murders and nothing else.” You whisper. He shrugged.

“Sure, sweetheart.”

“Dont call me that.” You groan. Boothill snickered.

“What, you dont like me callin’ you sweetheart, sweetheart?” He said slyly.

You rolled your eyes, feeling your annoyance growing. "No, I don't," you snapped. "And if you call me that again, I'll punch you in the face." Boothill just laughed. "Feisty as ever, aren't you? It's almost endearing." The man's smirk made your blood boil.

“What room are we in.” You ask, putting an angry emphasis on ‘we.’ Boothill looked at the card in his other hand. “304,” The elevator dinged, a chime that dug under your skin even more.

“Right down this hall.” Boothill pulled you down the lavish hall, and you made a noise of surprise.

“Can you stop dragging me everywhere?” You huff, tripping after him. He met your eyes, teasing and mischievous.

“But wheres the fun in that? You’re so cute when you’re tumblin’ over yourself.” His sharp teeth glinted in the neon lighting.

“Cut it out, cowboy.” You finally shove him off of you. He laughs again, metallic and hoarse. The thought of spending any amount of time alone in a room with him makes your teeth grind. You couldnt believe this. How did Penacony, the biggest hotel in all the cosmos, manage to make this major of a slip up? You groan internally, wondering how long you could put up with this guy before you had to book another room out of pocket.

Boothill pressed the card to the handle, unlocking the door. He waltzed into the lavish room, whistling. “Shoot, this is one fine room here.” He flopped down onto the orange couch, letting out a satisfied sigh. You glared at his metallic form.

“Yeah this would be luxury, except i have to share it with you.” You muttered, glancing at the massive shell filled with liquid. The soft neon lighting reflected off Boothill’s limbs and your irises. The view of the hotel was mesmerizing, and you wish you could enjoy it to the fullest.

Boothill chuckled, hearing your muttered remark. "Aww, don't be like that, sugar," he drawled, sprawling out on the orange couch. "You're hurtin' my feelings."

You rolled your eyes again. “You keep rollin’ your eyes like that, theyll get stuck up there.” You heard the smirk in his remark, and you resist to roll your eyes a third time. He snickered. “Careful now, dont give yourself a headache.”

You sigh, pinching your nosebridge. “You are doing a good enough job.”

Boothill sighs heartily. “Ah, you are so easy to rile up.” You grit your teeth, trying not to prove him right. Ignoring him, you finally turn away from the window. Boothill opened his eyes, the red target meeting your eyes. He raises an eyebrow, a silent question.

“Tell me about the murders.” You say, watching his smirk disappear. He sighed, sitting up.

“Alright, ill talk to you about the victims.” He began recounting what he knew, how each disappearance happened and all the clues pointing to every which way. You nodded along, storing every detail inside your mind. Boothill spoke with a surprising amount of knowledge about the murders. You had to admit, you were impressed, although you would never give the cyborg the satisfaction of admitting it aloud. As you listened to the details, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. The whole situation seemed odd. None of the clues made sense, and all the victims had died in different ways. Nothing about the murders added up.

You furrowed your brows in concentration. What could any of this mean? The metallic hum of Boothill’s voice cut through your thoughts. “Whatcha thinkin’ about, sugar?”

Ignoring his tease, you glance back to him. “Well none of those clues make sense. What do those clues mean?” You mused.

[thatringboy]

A Body Built for an Undeserving Soul, A Boothill Theory

My definitely sober thoughts while grinding for the eventual Ruan Mei rerun and writing some robinhill have led me to a startling train of thought. I’ll do my best to sound sane as I say this, but the 18 minute discord voice memo I originally made is definitely anything but. Spoilers for Boothill’s backstory, character stories, and other lore, and no I’m not really gonna be citing things because it’s 3 in the morning and I’m high. If at any point I say something that isn’t really supported by canon, please be nice i’m a little silly boy

Anyways

I don’t think Boothill is a Pathstrider.

Let me cook, please. Here’s my reasons why:

The way he talks about Aeons and Paths

The way his body is designed

And 3.

Enjoy the madness below the cut

So, there’s not really a proper way to word any of this without it being an ADHD word vomit. Bear with me. Please.

Penacony has been a fantastic update for those of us waiting for worldbuilding. We’ve learned a LOT about the many factions in the cosmos, the true nature of the IPC, the powers of the Aeons, and that the Paths are tangible things in the universe. The Luofu arc opened up a bit about this, but since it was so focused on The Hunt and The Abundance and The Permanence, we sort of fell back into the same story beats as the Herta Station arc. Either way, Penacony has been amazing for little lore bugs like me.

So what does this have to do with the wild claim that Boothill somehow isn’t a Pathstrider?

Let’s touch some grass for a minute and consider our places in the irl universe. Hi, I’m Perseus, a young transmasculine white adult guy from South Texas who grew up reading too many Rick Riordan books and now has a complicated relationship with both the christian god and the greek gods. It’s an autism special interest of mine to learn about the greek pantheon and while I don’t know everything about it, I’m a silly little guy and can recite fun facts about dozens of gods. I can also recite fun facts about the christian bible and christian mythology because I was forced to study christianity when I was younger. Nice to meet y’all. Now, when I, Perseus, talk to people about the various religions I know a thing or two about, I infodump. A lot. I think I once ranted about Dionysus for 20 minutes before my sister told me to shut up. It happens.

Now focus back in on the important topic: the fictional cyborg with jiggle physics. I’m working purely on memory, but I’m pretty sure when he first meets Dan Heng and Pom-Pom, he does go on a spiel about the Aeons and Paths as he tries to prove his identity as a Galaxy Ranger and Acheron’s identity as Not a Galaxy Ranger. The way he describes The Hunt, The Nihility, Emanators, and Paths, it all just sounded… i don’t know, canned? It came across as very emotionally disconnected, even as he talked about The Hunt, but he was saying all the right words. Like someone who studied a religion but isn’t actually a part of the religion. 

On its own, this means absolutely nothing besides just reminding us of his home planet’s hostile takeover by Qlipoth-worshiping IPC workers. If you haven’t seen the post yet, I really recommend reading the So, Honkai: Star Rail made a cyborg cowboy... an INDIGENOUS cyborg cowboy. post by @ahworm I’ll link it here, please check it out because it recontextualized a lot of how I viewed Boothill’s actions and mannerisms

So the way Boothill talks about the Path he should be a Pathstrider of sounds more like an encyclopedia than a follower. Now, maybe this can be explained by the fact that Galaxy Rangers aren’t the most zealous bunch, especially when standing next to the Xianzhou Alliance who worship Lan as a deity more than The Hunt itself. The Galaxy rangers are the opposite, they are hunters first and last regardless of what Lan in THEIR “greatness” does.

But if Boothill is just a normal Galaxy ranger (whatever that means), then how does he recognize the Jade Abacus of Allying Oath instantaneously? Dan Heng’s barely put the damn thing on the table and Boothill’s already jaw on the floor amazed. One could make the argument that, well, Boothill’s a well-traveled guy, of course he’d know the most valuable artifact to his Path. To that, I say: there’s more to it.

Boothill’s main accusation against Acheron in the beginning is, what? “An Emanator that shouldn’t exist.” He talks about The Nihility and Device IX the same way he talks about The Hunt; learned and detached in an agnostic way. He’s aware these are real concepts and beings, he’s crossed paths with an Emanator of Elation before so he can’t deny the existence of literal gods in the universe

We also know that it’s canon in the star rail universe that there are planets who haven’t heard of the Aeons before, like Sigonia - Aventurine’s planet. Instead of Aeons, we know the Avgins worshiped the goddess Giathra Triclops. I’ve seen the argument that Giathra is just another name for Xipe since THEY have three faces, but Aventurine’s flashbacks are very clear in showing that the worship of Giathra was very different from the worship of Aeons. We don’t know much about Aeragan-Epharshel, but from how the IPC described the indigenous people as needing civilization and other disgusting things (not to mention how they forced a synesthesia beacon into boothill when he was maybe like a teenager? And then his brain nearly broke from the influx of information?), I think it’s safe to say that the tribes of Aeragan-Epharshel also didn’t follow any specific Aeon.

But Aventurine is now a Pathstrider of Preservation, so why can’t Boothill be a Hunter Pathstrider too? Well, dear reader, allow me to bash my head against the wall trying to form words. Aventurine doesn’t believe anything about the sovereignty of The Preservation, just like the rest of the Stonehearts. He has his agenda, and if he has to play Preservation to do so, then he will. I think Boothill is the same, which is also why I can’t wait to see what happens in the upcoming quests with the two of them in the same room. That being said, Aventurine’s Preservation powers only come from his Cornerstone, crafted by an Emanator of Preservation. It’s how he and Topaz and Jade can all be such different people but all be classified as Pathstriders of Preservation, the sheer proximity to an Emanator’s powers canonically give them powers equivalent to actual Pathstriders.

So… what about Boothil? This leads me into my next point: Boothill’s cyborg body. By looking at his Character Story Part 3, we learn that Boothill VOLUNTARILY became a cyborg to become stronger. He literally shed the skin and name from an ancient, dead tongue to become a real loaded gun. His voice lines in combat talk about death a lot, his name literally is in reference to a graveyard - this man cannot wait to finally die in some sort of blaze of glory and vengeance. I say that with a little bit of sarcasm, but Boothill designed his body to be a weapon. 

In a lot of parts of the USA, it’s illegal to even insinuate that you have a firearm as that constitutes as the crime of  “armed robbery”, even if you don’t even have a gun. The threat alone is enough to warrant a higher penalty. But Boothill is already a great shot with a gun, why does he also need augmented teeth and crosshair eyes and hips that can fold his body into any sinful shape he needs? Because the threat alone is enough to give him power over his prey. Almost as if he’s compensating for a lack of magic godly powers. He needs to be able to keep up with even the strongest IPC goons, to pierce their Preservation shields with his bullets so that he can get closer and closer to Oswaldo Schneider.

But how can I prove that Boothill doesn’t have any Path magic? Well, let’s take a spin around his character model. What’s that thing sitting snugly against his exposed asscheek? His pistol? But that’s not weird, Perseus, most cowboys hold their guns there!

But what other playable character has their weapon on their actual model like him?

There are so many in-game cutscenes showing that, canonically, the Pathstriders summon their weapon from some sort of unseen storage or hammerspace. I like the term hammerspace, let’s use that. The playable Pathstriders all use hammerspace to easily summon their weapons. None of them actually carry their weapons on their model. Even Welt Yang has scenes of him summoning his herrscher cane (I’ve never played hi3 please forgive me for using incorrect terms) from his hammerspace. But not Boothill. He has his arm gun and he has his trusty 9 millimeter pistol on his little slutty hip. His idle animations involve reloading his weapons and putting them back on his person. No particle effects, no vanishing tricks, just a man sticking his tongue out to catch a bullet for a snack.

So what have we learned?

Boothill doesn’t have an emotional connection to his Path, it most likely is just the Path he figured met his needs and decided the philosophy was good enough

Boothill’s body is designed to perform specifically to kill Pathstriders, especially sturdier Pathstriders of The Preservation

Boothill either can’t or won’t use the same hammerspace the other canonical Pathstriders use

Each point by themself means nothing, or can be chalked up to unique character designs. But together? My intoxicated mind theorizes that Boothill is not a Pathstrider, merely a broken man trying to play the game according to the rules of the oppressors that colonized his planet and bombed his tribe into reservations and the dirt. Thank you for your time.