#by raising skeletons and fighting said skeletons as a form of exercise

[thechekhov]

ah, childhood.

[peppersonironi]

Duke Thomas VS The "Good Child" Stereotype Chapter 2

Next chapter for my Duke Thomas Big Bang fic is up!

(Once again, a hearty thank you to my betas @queerbutstillhereand @theycallme-ook)

Read On Ao3

It was four am on a Friday morning, a week after Duke had decided he’d had enough of Bruce’s - and the other’s - incorrect opinion of him.

It was so early in the morning, that the main group of bats had been trickling back from patrol over the past hour or so. Stephanie and Cassandra had arrived first, followed by Jason ten minutes later. Then Tim had gotten back from his route with Harper, and Kate and Bette had stopped by for a bit (but eventually left for their own homes). Dick came home next, and Bruce had returned last with Damian.

Everyone was in varying states of winding down, with Stephanie at one end of the spectrum wearing silk pajamas, a fluffy robe which Duke was sixty-seven percent sure was Bruce’s, and bright pink bunny slippers Duke was positive were Dick’s. On the other side, Bruce hadn’t even pulled off his cowl, and was sitting down in front of the Batcomputer to work on a case.

Though Duke thought that Tim deserved his own category, dressed in a strange combination of disco track suit and kevlar body armor, and was hunched over three cans of energy drinks and a quart jug filled with espresso shots.

Duke leaned down to double check that his boots were laced up - one time he hadn’t, and had then proceeded to trip and fall into a garbage pile. Not. Fun.

He looked up, however, when Bruce clicked open a case file. So did everyone else, as if drawn by some invisible force.

They all clearly saw as Bruce hovered his mouse over a link which had been typed in sometime while the big bat had been away. The only hint to what it could be was the note reading “New Evidence.”

Bruce grunted in what for anyone else would be an exclamation of curiosity and went to click the link.

Which clearly went to YouTube.

In unison, all the bats’ eyes widened in realization. You see, in a family such as this one, pranks abounded. So they all had painstakingly memorized that series of letters and numbers.

They all knew what it meant.

Suddenly, the Batcave lit up with the dancing form of one Rick Astley. It was everywhere. On the several large monitors that made up the Batcomputer. The various screens spread across the caves. Everyone’s phones somehow were affected. As well as the X-Ray machine in the med bay, which was showing a skeleton dancing.

Bruce jumped up, rage full on his face. “Who did this? Make it stop!”

No one answered, all too frozen in shock at what had happened.

“Who…” Dick whispered from beside Jason, “Who would be that brave?”

“Yeah,” Jason whispered back, “Rick Rolls were banned at the 2015 family reunion after you played it two hundred and thirteen times in a row.”

Dick grinned, “those were good times.”

The two eldest boys began to bicker, Jason complaining that Rick Rolls were a part of the war crimes banned by the Geneva Convention, and Dick saying he “liked it: so there.”

Meanwhile, the song was reaching the chorus, and the other bats finally began to react. The three girls were dancing on top of exercise equipment, popping bottles of sparkling cider - or was that champagne? For their own sakes, they should hope it’s the former - they had pulled out of what seemed to be thin air.

Damian was in the corner, trying to get Titus to dance to the music - though he glanced around every so often to make sure that no one was noticing his moment of fun.

Tim was still nursing his collection of drinks like an alcoholic nursed a bottle.

Bruce was practically foaming at the mouth by that point.

“This is NOT FUNNY!”

That, of course, made everyone just start laughing harder. In the corner, Steph started to do the macarena completely off-tempo from the music. Cass seemed to be chugging the cider that Harper was pouring into her mouth.

Just then the holographic training simulations lit up, and Rick Astly began making his way across the cave, dancing all the way.

Bruce glared up at the semi transparent form of the singer, as if trying to force him into submission.

“T-pose to assert dominance!” Jason called, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“Yeah, that’ll totally work, B! Trust us!” Dick called as well.

Bruce took a moment to turn his head and glare at the two former Robins, who only smiled like the angels they clearly thought they were.

The image was not aided by the two giant stuffed swordfish just pulled from Jason’s utility belt.

“En guarde!” He cried, and tossed the one in his left hand at Damian, who had been trying to reassure his dog that the giant man wasn’t real.

The thirteen year old screeched, but caught the four foot long fish by its fin.

“This is animal abuse!” He cried.

“It’s not abuse if it’s dead!” Jason countered, and attacked the youngest bat with a passion.

As the duel progressed, Cassandra tried to raise her hand and gurgle out a bet on who would win, but began to choke on the liquid.

Harper cursed as she tossed away the sixth bottle of cider and tried to give Cass the heimlich maneuver.

Dick, meanwhile, pressed a button on one of the many consoles spread around the cave, and several stripper poles came out of hidden storage via hydraulics. He grabbed the nearest one, and began to dance.

“I THOUGHT I DISABLED THOSE?!” Bruce bellowed, as Dick began a twirl.

Stephanie, however, didn’t seem nearly as dismayed at the sight of the poles. She herself smacked a button next to her, and several disco balls dropped down from among the stalactites to join the fun. She then began to morph her macarena into an epic macarena. A few flips here, and a few pantomiming choking your enemies there. And a whole lot of randomly throwing glitter bombs at, well, everywhere.

But especially at the nearest authority figure.

Damian tripped over a bucket during his fight - apparently left over from Alfred’s earlier cleaning spree - and the soapy liquid spilled across the floor.

But, of course, them being the bats, Alfred didn’t use normal soap.

Huge bubbles began to farm from the liquid, the longest almost three feet in diameter, and rise up to the cave’s ceiling. The suds spread around, eagerly began to mingle with Stephanie’s glitter.

A solitary bubble, relatively small, floated over to Bruce’s head, and popped on one of his cowl’s ears. He was not amused.

*****

Five minutes later, everyone was lined up next to the Batcomputer with heads bowed in either shame or disappointment.

Bruce walked up and down the row, the perfect imitation of a drill sergeant. His glare matched as well.

“This is an outrageous breach of protocol,” he was saying, “the Batcomputer is not a toy, nor something to use for your own amusement. It is a serious tool-”

“Then why’s it called the Batcomputer?”

Bruce froze and whirled on Dick, who had chosen that inopportune moment to speak up.

“Because you were nine years old and saying no to you would have gotten me a meltdown.”

“It seems to me, Bossman,” Stephanie began, tenting her fingers in an attempt to act serious (the effect was strange combined with her bathrobe and slippers) “That you are perfectly happy to let Dick get away with things. But in this situation, with women present, you are strangely cold. This shows blatant sexism on your part and in this essay I will-”

“That’s enough, Stephanie.” Bruce cut off as a round of snorts and giggle erupted from the group of bats.

“You do realise that no one here is going to speak, right?” Jason asked, “You did teach us to resist torture. And - pardon my french, Alfred - but you are no fucking way close to the level of torture I’ve gone through. Namely waking up to Batcow sitting on top of me.”

“Are you commenting on her weight?” Damian demanded, glaring daggers at Jason.

“I said no such thing.”

“ Boys .” Bruce demanded, rubbing his temples. “Jason is right - not about Batcow’s weight - but I’m not going to get any of you to talk willingly.” He paused and made eye contact with every single bat present, trying to reach into their souls.

“Therefore,” he continued slowly, “I’m giving you one last chance. Otherwise: No one gets cookies from Alfred for two months. ”

The shock was immediate. Alfred’s cookies, of all kinds, were worth more than gold in the Manor. The ability to not have them? And for two months? Bruce truly was a cruel hearted tyrant if he was willing to go to such lengths.

Duke gulped.

“Fine, then.” Bruce said simply when no one answered. “I guess we’ll just have to check the security footage of the Cave.”

Why didn’t Bruce think of that earlier? He clearly wasn’t trying to give the kids an easy way out.

Bruce stalked over to the computer and began to furiously type at the keys, pulling up the footage for the past few days. The group watched in a tense silence as Bruce rifled through the multiple recordings, searching for the culprit.

“AHA!” Bruce grunted, upon finding a specific time stamp. There was a figure emerging from the shadows. He paused and then slowed down the video so they could all see who it was.

There were several gasps as the figure came into the light, looked around, and made his way to the computer. They had shown their face, not even bothering to hide.

Everyone whirled to Duke, then back to the screen.

“No way,” Harper whispered under her breath.

Because the person on the footage, who was now adding the link to the case file and hooking up bluetooth speakers, was Duke Thomas himself.

Bruce’s eye twitched.

There was a general consensus among the resident vigilantes in the cave at that time: Duke wasn’t going to live to tell the tale.

Duke felt uneasy under their scrutiny, unsure of what to do. This was his plan, after all. To be seen differently. But so far the lack of accusations or uproarious debate was disconcerting.

He looked up at Bruce, awaiting his reaction. Bruce didn’t meet Duke’s eyes.

“Hrn,” he grumbled angrily instead and whirled on Tim. Said teenager was barely standing up straight - well, he was leaning on Steph heavily - and blinked wearily around the cave. He didn’t seem to understand what was going on.

Bruce’s eyes narrowed for a long moment before he whipped around and furiously began to mess with the playback settings on the footage. Everyone stood still, not daring to move while Bruce grumbled under his breath.

Finally Bruce straightened and pointed dramatically toward the screen.

“There,” he grunted out, and everyone subconsciously leaned a little bit forward.

They didn’t see anything different from before, though Bruce’s finger did bring their attention to one of the bats that flew across the upper left hand corner. A few seconds of footage later, and yet another bat flew across in a similar pattern. Not exactly the same, so it wasn’t really out of the ordinary. Lord knows the bats would randomly fly out and into their hair much more than necessary.

“Note how the figure is disturbed when each bat flies across the screen,” Bruce said in the same voice he used when talking about a case - cold, impersonal, and yet like he was giving a college lecture.

No one spoke, not really sure what to say. I mean, what was the correct course of action when your father figure suddenly refuses to accept reality, and is grasping at the most unlikely of straws?

“I know this technique anywhere,” Bruce said more to himself than the line of vigilantes. He turned, completely passing over Duke, and set his sights on Tim.

“Timothy Jackson Drake,” Bruce growled, stalking forward, “What possessed you to doctor this footage?”

Tim didn’t respond, only mumbled incoherently and leaned onto Steph some more.

Bruce was furious, bearing his teeth as he spat out his response: “Now is not the time to use the anti-torture training I’ve given you.”

Tim nodded slowly and draped his arm on top of Stephanie’s head.

“You should know better than this,” Bruce began, “pranks are strictly forbidden in the cave, as you very well know. And in addition, I taught you better at framing than this. You choose a victim that could actually be considered as a suspect. Trying to pin the blame on Duke was your undoing - he would never do something like this.”

Duke cringed slightly, as the rest of the bats glanced Duke’s way. All were a mix of confusion and awe.

This … was not how this was supposed to go. No, screw that. That was an outrageous understatement. Things ‘not going according to plan’ would have been Jason randomly blaming Harper for the mess on no grounds - or maybe Bruce not bothering to check the cameras, opting instead to just ground everyone.

But blatantly ignoring evidence and then lecturing someone completely unrelated? No, this was too much. It couldn’t be real. This was some kind of scare-tactic wasn’t it? Duke was too much of an adrenaline junkie to be bothered by the usual ‘hanging upside down over a busy road’ schtick.

But then Bruce moves on to possible culprits Tim could have chosen instead - did he seriously think that Ra’s Al Ghul would Rick Roll them?! - and Duke lost hope.

“Uhh, Bruce?” Duke asked after the ten minute mark.

The Dark Knight turned and faced Duke.

Duke scratched the back of his neck. “Do you think I could head out for patrol now? It’s getting light out, and since you’ve clearly got this covered… I thought I could scoot out?”

Bruce was nodding before the end of Duke’s request. “Yes, go. I’ll deal with Tim. You don’t need to worry - you won’t be blamed. It clearly wasn’t your fault.”

Duke nodded slowly, and covered his disappointment with a small smirk. “Thanks, B.”

He jogged over to the edge of the platform and dropped down beside his Signal-Cycle. A routine mounting, a quick putting on of his helmet, and he was off.

Duke was scowling as he left, wondering what on earth had gone wrong.

*****

“Did you see that smirk?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Did he blame Tim on purpose?”

“How, though? To make such a tactical move -”

“It would have taken a shit ton of planning.”

“Can we get back on the fact that Bruce was fooled?”

“Or who fooled him?!”

[shinobis-of-ninjago-au]

Shinobis of Ninjago

Pilot 1: Way of the Ninja

Prologue (Pilot 1, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3), Pilot 2, Episode 1

They spent the night at the weapons-smith shop, getting many visitors asking if the siblings were okay, scared that the skeletons harmed them. When they asked about Jay, Skylor lied, saying he was upstairs sick.

Skylor told their neighbours that she would be leaving for a while, though she wasn't sure how long. The farmers said they would look after the shop and collect the money from the orders that had to be picked up and give it back to them when they returned. They also said they would keep an eye out for new shipments of metal and jewels. Nightfall soon came, visitors leaving and Skylor set up the orders that would be picked up when she was gone and closed down the shop.

Once morning came, they set off. Mystake said it would be a five day journey on foot, travelling through forests and mountains. They would stop in towns for meals, but be walking the rest of the day. On the evening of the fifth day they reached the base of a mountain, one of the tallest in the southern region of Ninjago.

Skylor looked at Mystake as if she had grown a second head. Mystake simply smiled and started walking around the base of the mountain until she came upon an old willow tree. She pushed aside the branches, revealing a stone staircase carved into the side of the mountain. Skylor sighed, hoisting up the pack on her shoulders.

An hour later, they reached the summit. White stone walls circled around the top, bright red circular doors engraved with a golden dragon marking the entrance. Skylor notched a wooden contraption off the end of a platform. Upon the end of inspection she concluded that it was a handmade elevator.

"¿¡De Verdad!? Are you kidding me? I climbed this mountain for nothing!" Mystake simply shrugged like she had no idea what Skylor was talking about. "How long is this training supposed to be?" Skylor asked. "I'm in a rush. Trying to save my brother, y'know. Oh wait, you do know. Because you were the one who let him get taken."

Mystake opened the large double doors, used to the blame of Jay's capture being thrown her way as it had been the topic of discussion for the past two days. "You will be ready when you are ready. Not a minute sooner." She walked down the few steps into a large open courtyard, a simple golden dragon statue in the middle.

Skylor followed, dropping her pack at the base of stairs and looking around. "A monastery? You expect me to learn how to fight in a place of peace?"

"Not fight, train." Mystake corrected. "To become a true ninja, to carry the honourable name of the Garmadon Clan on your back, you must first be able to see what others do not."

"But there's nothing here!" Skylor yelled, clearly distraught.

Mystake gestured to the small golden dragon statue beside her. There was another in the same spot on the opposite side of the stairs. She gave the post a little tap with her staff, and the statue fell back, revealing a tiny button. Skylor stared at it curiously as Mystake pressed it.

There was a faint sound of whirring before the dragon in the centre slowly raised out of the ground, four pillars in the corners following it soon after. Wooden planks and beams came next, filling up the space between each pillar, forming some sort of obstacle course.

"What does this have to do with anything?" Skylor asked, hand on her hip as she gazed around. "I thought you were going to teach me to fight–sorry, train me–so I could rescue my brother. Not do some stupid elementary school exercise."

"My, my, what a way with words you have. If you want to save your brother, complete the course before I finish my tea." Mystake walked over to the porch that lined the building on the opposite side of the courtyard. A teapot, along with a tray had been set up. Mystake sat down, crossed her legs and placed a cloth in her lap. She poured her tea and popped in two sugar cubes. After downing the cup in a few seconds, she looked to when Skylor was standing, unmoving from where she was thirty seconds ago.

"Today you fail. Come now, we must take care of that concussion of yours. Until you recover, you will rest and learn the way of the ninja."

"No way. I'm getting through this course today and saving my brother." Skylor said, planting her feet in the ground.

"We will see when you cannot even make it down the mountain. Come now, I have dinner waiting."

--------------------------------

It took a few more days for Skylor to recover from her concussion. It had been a very small one and Mystake mentioned something about Elemental Masters healing at over twice the rate of regular humans, and her helmet had protected her from any further head injuries. For the next week, she spent the mornings studying with Mystake and training in hand-to-hand combat. The afternoons she spent trying to get through the obstacle course. So far, everyday, she had failed, her anger and frustration growing.

After over two weeks of staying at the monastery, Skylor walked out into the courtyard with a new mindset. If she could get through the course, she could not only save Jay, she could prove Mystake wrong. And that was enough motivation for her.

The course at first glance seemed simple, but in reality, it was quite hard. As soon as Mystake made a motion to grab her napkin, Skylor took off, army-crawling under swinging planks. She continued to race through the course. When she was about a third of the way through the course, she threw the wooden sword he had been armed with at Mystake, knocking the cup out of her hands.

Mystake looked down at the soiled napkin in her lap, reaching for another. When she was done making her second cup of tea, she looked up at the course, only to find Skylor missing.

"Was that one sugar, or two?"

Mystake looked to her right and saw Skylor leaning against the porch holding out the bowl of sugar cubes, smirking smugly up at the woman. Mystake scoffed and stood up, taking the bowl from Skylor and placing on the tray along with the rest of her tea set.

"So, am I going to learn this spinjitzu I've been hearing so much about?" Skylor asked, getting to her feet and dusting herself off.

"You already have." Mystake replied. "Your final test comes tomorrow. My advice is to get some sleep, you might need it."

--------------------------------

That night, Skylor was uneasy. She laid in bed, unable to fall asleep. She tried reading, training, chamomile tea, but nothing was working. Maybe it was nerves about her final test, or perhaps she was anxious about rescuing her brother after two weeks. Who knew what he had been through.

She rolled over in bed, staring at the wall when she heard a faint thud above her head. Turning on the lantern next to her bed, she gazed upwards. Not seeing anything, she crawled back under the covers, keeping the light on. A few minutes later, another thud, this time coming from the other side of her room. Tossing the covers to the foot of her bed, Skylor got to her feet.

Cautiously creeping to the other side of the room, lantern in hand, Skylor shone the light on the corners. She froze when the light caught something. It was brief, but the glimpse of metal was all she needed.

"I know you're there, come out."

Three figures stepped out of the shadows. All were clad in black and had a weapon in their hands: a bo-staff, a trident, and a whip.

Slowly walked backwards as the three advanced and made a dash for her dresser. She hopped on top and pulled herself up into the rafters of the monastery. The three followed her through the roof until Skylor jumped down over the main foyer. She ran through the doors into the courtyard, looking around for anything that might prove useful.

Spotting the small dragon statues by the staircase, Skylor darted across the courtyard. Flipping back the dragon, she pressed the button, watching her three attackers fail to overcome their surprise and receive a few bruises from the obstacle course.

After the shock of the course springing up, the three warriors were filled with a new emotion for the red-haired girl. Abandoning their weapons on the ground, they charged towards Skylor. Soon, Skylor found herself on top of one of the warriors, but flattened under the other two. Skylor raised her fist in the air, only to have it grabbed by the two on top of her. Before it could escalate further, a cry rang out through the courtyard.

"Stop!"

The four stopped, looking up at Mystake who was standing in the doorway. They slowly got off each other, heads hanging as they moved into a line. "Hai, Sensei," The four said in unison, bowing.

"Wait, wait, wait. I thought I was your only student. You have more?" Skylor asked. Mystake nodded and Skylor placed a hand on her hip, looking to each person. "No impresionada." ('Not impressed.')

"Hey!" One cried. "You couldn' take us down, remember tha'. You needed the obstacle course to save ya butt." They had a bit of a drawl to their voice.

"With all due respect, Sensei Mystake, you never said anything about a fourth. I thought we were to retrieve the weapons, the three of us." Another said, they spoke with a bit of an accent, hinting that Ninjanese wasn't their first language. Mystake tilted her head curiously, so they continued, wringing their hands nervously. "What I mean is, us three have trained together. We are solid."

"No me pareció tan sólido," ('Didn't look so solid to me,') Skylor muttered under her breath, crossing her arms.

Two of them shot her deadly glares as the third spoke to Mystake. "Master Mystake, I am afraid I do not understand. What is the meaning of this?"

"Each of you have received a gift passed down through generations of your families. An ability in tune with elemental properties. But first, change into these." Mystake went inside for a few seconds before emerging with four neatly folded ninja-yorois.

Minutes later, the four emerged out of the monastery, gathering in the courtyard. Orange, maroon, navy blue, and purple. The yorois were soft and loose, though Skylor wasn't sure what the scabbards attached to her belt were for.

"Not bad." Skylor complimented. "But why the colour coding? Can't tell us apart, old woman?"

"There are reasons behind my methods. Remember that." Mystake snapped. She turned to the rest of her students. "You four have been gifted with special elemental properties. Skylor, Master of Absorption, the ability to absorb another's power for a limited time through skin contact." She said, placing her staff on on Skylor's shoulder. "You shall be the team's konran, the agitator. I think it fits you well."

Mystake moved her staff to the girl beside Skylor who was wearing a maroon gi. She had short raven hair and grey eyes that shone as Mystake directed her attention to her. "Nya, Master of Water. Ability to control and manipulate water. Also referred to as hydrokinesis. You will make a wonderful teiastsu."

Mystake moved her staff to her next student, a dark skinned girl with bright pink hair that had a blue streak running through it. "Seleil, Master of Phantom. Stealthy like shadows. Your special skill set will serve you well as a kishu." Seliel bowed respectively as Mystake moved on to the last girl. "Pixal, Master of Technology. Like her name, she is ahead of her time and seer with sixth sense. An excellent Kanchō.

"You four are the chosen ones who will protect the four Weapons of Spinjitzu from Lady Misako."

"Hold on, you said we were saving my brother first! What about him, or did you forget, old woman." Skylor sneered.

Nya gasped, missing the point of Skylor's statement. "We're saving a boy? Is he cute?"

"Nya..." Seliel warned, watching as Skylor's eye twitched dangerously.

"I-I just wanna know what we're getting ourselves into. Ya know how hard it is to get a date when ya live on a mountain." She said. She leaned in close to Skylor, whispering, "Does he like maroon?"

"Back. Off. Or so help me, I will steal your kneecaps while you sleep." Skylor threatened.

Seliel nodded approvingly. "Creative insult."

"Oh trust me, chica, I got tons more."

Mystake interrupted before the argument could go any further. "If you want to save your brother, we need the weapons to do so. Come now, we will set off for the first weapon at dawn."

"Whoa, hold on a minute. You said you were going to teach us spinjitzu." Seliel said.

"I already have." Mystake answered. She turned around, heading back inside and leaving the doors open for her students.

Seliel sighed as Nya complained, "ugh, why she always gotta be so cryptic?"

"No clue. All I know is that I was stuck with crap like that for two days with nothing else to do." Skylor huffed. She stretched, starting towards the door. "Since you interrupted my sleep, I'm going to go get some shut eye. Noche, señoras."

"Yeah, well, ya weren't actually sleeping so we didn't wake ya up! So... ha!" Nya called after her. She sighed, disappointed in how her words came out.

Seliel patted her on the shoulder. "It's okay, Nya, she's not worth it. Come on, let's go get some rest."

[teratoscope]

The feral descendants of an insect uplift

Dust EatersYour captors take you to the footof an enormous clay mound riddled with fist-sized passages. There’s a beatenfolding chair sitting at the top of the mound, and a heavyset man in the chair.He’s silhouetted against the sun, so it’s hard to make out details, but he seemsto be wearing some kind of helmet covered in shining metal prongs. He shiftshis weight and the chair creaks.Somewhere deep in the mound thereis a faint buzz.The heavyset man raises both handslike a maestro about to conjure an apocalyptic symphony. The buzz grows louderand nearer, more textured, and then clouds of thumb-sized red insects eruptfrom the mound, forming a vortex overhead.One settles on the bridge of yournose for a moment. Its long legs bristle with wicked thorns. Enlarged mandiblesand bladed maxillae clack and sway, dripping with thick, brown digestivejuices. Despite the gulf of species between you, you can sense an overwhelming attitudeof deliberate restraintin its expression before it takes off to rejoinits siblings as they form a massive, keening insect halo over the head of theirmaster.

HD 6 MV 180’ flying AC 11 AT hundreds of rapacious jaws and rasping limbs (2d6 within swarm radius, Wis check for half) Special swarm, focused strike 

Swarm—single-target attacks never dealmore than a single point of damage per die per hit when used against a swarm.Area-effect attacks always hit and the swarm never saves to avoid the fulleffect. A standard dust eater swarm covers a rough diameter of 300’ at fullstrength; when it reaches 2/3 of its max hp (round down) this area is reducedto 200’, and then finally to 100’ when it is brought to the final third of itshp.

Focused strike—A dust eater swarm can abandon itsactions for a round and drop to the bottom of the initiative order toconsolidate its bodies into a lance formation. As a lance, the swarm’s AC risesto 15, its melee attack becomes a to-hit single-target action that deals 4d6damage, and it gains the ability to chew through everything up tomateriel-grade solid targets at a rate of 10 square feet per round. This is ataxing strategy, inflicting 1d3 damage to the swarm each round as individuallocusts expend themselves.

 The dusteater was the last invention to come out of Project Myrmidon. Its failure wasone of the critical factors behind the success of Forward Escape.

It startedinnocently enough: human resources were short. Robotics-based solutions tostaffing and labor problems had material and logistical limits that became moreimmediate concerns on a daily basis. A global society couldn’t remain feasiblewithout a functional labor alternative to manage the heavy lifting.

Some madbastard was struck by the notion of outsourcing the work to bugs, and anotherset of mad bastards at the Myrmidon labs looked at that idea and said theycould make it work.

Theunderlying reasoning was as follows: insects are capable of extremely competentinfrastructural work for their own species. They’re strong, resilient, are farlighter on a biome’s carrying capacity than humans, don’t need exotic fuels,coordinate well without bureaucracy, and when they die on the job people tendnot to get upset. With a little bit of genetic tinkering, microsurgery,nano-infection, and ingenious systems design, you could make an insect whoseactions you could direct remotely through a machine interface, and whosesusceptibility to that control bred true. Pair that with natural swarminstincts and you’ve got a powerful tool to make things happen.Remote-controlled “roach cams” were a thing we knew how to do well before the Contact War; this was reallymostly an expansion on a technology we already knew was feasible.

The firstproof-of-concept designs were built from baseline nomadacris septemfasciata specimens, because they were readilyavailable and large enough to be convenient to practice the early implantsurgeries with. The locusts became synonymous with the labor solutionexperiments and with Project Myrmidon as a whole. The general public haddeveloped an attachment to the little guys and the nebulous promise of a returnto relative leisure they signified.

In the endthe project succumbed to the same thing that produces almost every ruinousparamilitary design effort: a need to be all things to all people. What beganas a simple proof of concept won people over so thoroughly—the image of asingle person seated at a station steering a shining cloud of bugs in aerobaticdisplays burned itself into the minds of a generation the way the moon landinghad for their great-great-great grandparents—that the developers were barragedwith demands for new implementations of the tech. We became collectivelyconvinced that the locusts were the magic bullet for every imminent crisis ofthe Contact War.

But themoney could only go so far and there were only so many people who understoodthe intersecting fields behind the design, who could only work so many hours. Somecracked under the pressure.

The onesthat didn’t decided to solve the problem by streamlining it. The original plancalled for experimentation with a wide range of species for infrastructure,food production, waste management, defense, and surveillance, but by that pointall we knew for sure how to do was steer the locusts.

The creaturethat would come to earn the name “dust eater” was a further variation on themodified septemfasciata archetype. Bythe end of the eighth revision it was scarcely recognizable. Unlike the prototypes,which was only meant to be steered effectively, each dust eater was supposed tobe able to breed like an aphid, mound-build like a termite, convert trashcalories into edible protein on a tenth of the fodder a cow needs, andskeletonize the average lightly-armored soldier or political dissident, all atthe push of a button.

In the endthe brass got everything they wanted and more, except the last bullet point.

The modificationsthat networked the dust eaters to their control system worked fine so long asthey never transitioned into their gregarious state. When placed in theconditions that provoked a natural swarm response—limited calories, hot and dryweather, and a population above a certain size within a certain space, theresulting phenotypic and psychological shift interacted unpredictably with theirnetwork receptor and transmitter organs.

Theyremained networked to each other. If anything, the connection betweenindividual members of the swarm got stronger. Attempted remote control,however, didn’t do anything but piss them off real bad.

They brokecontainment the summer after they entered limited use, and they’ve been amenace ever since. We fight them for food and living space just as much as wedo with any invader. Accidentally splitting the pie further gave proponents ofForward Escape that much more rhetorical ammunition to get the better part ofhumanity into space, where we could operate in a more precisely manageable closedsystem and defend our interests from a safe distance.

Whileoperating in the gravity well, remember that just because they’re hungry doesn’t mean they’re stupid. A dust eater swarm at fullcomplement is smarter than you, and it will use that intelligence to figure outthe most optimal way to strip you down for parts and mulch your bones. They’reespecially clever in their hives; like spiders, the homes they build are alsoexternal storage for the work their brains do.

You areencouraged to ignore anything you might hear speculating that “tame” dust eaterpopulations exist, or that there are feasible methods to pacify and direct a swarmin the field. These are folkloric conjectures working from limited evidence andnostalgic wish fulfillment exercises, and will not improve your survivability.

[tetsuwan-atom]

Atomite Incarnates: Hydal Bartis

DISCLAIMER: You may have seen some other muses on this blog that haven’t actually been given bios before. These are new side muses that are part of the whole Mighty Atom Lore. Bowen Chuuno is of course still the main muse of this blog and always will be, these are just additional muses that are used in certain stories and RPs. Due to the nature of these muses (Powers, Story arcs, etc) they are considered Request Only.

Read more for Length.

Hydal Bartis

Hydal Bartis was born in medieval times, growing up in a particular kingdom, easily having the dream like most boys back then to become a knight, a protector, a warrior for one's King, one's people. Even as a kid he showed clear talent for fighting and was straight away put into squireship when he hit the right age. Every duty, every requirement thrown at him, he performed, valiantly, perfectly, without fault. Clearly, he was truly knight material, in every single way, in skill, in demeanor, in attitude, he learned it all, understanding what was expected of him in his role, serving with utmost diligence.

At first he was serving his kingdom, protecting the central castle and it's monarch. He was very quick to foil every assassination attempt, even if there were only one or two he ever experienced. He had also served on the front lines, where his skills really came into play. No doubt a Legend had been created, with a lone, blonde knight, taking on immense armies, all on his own... and winning. Such earned him many accolades.. and for a long period of time, served directly under the King, protecting such, as well as the Queen and Royal Family, from anything that came at them.

Of course, in due time, that King would die, so would the Queen, new people step in and take power, Hydal would serve under them as well. People wonder how he stayed so young, still fresh, with unrivalled ability. He too, did not know until his own death. However, it would come to serving under a later King, that would test his loyalty to the Kingdom. His first King was kind, generous, benevolent, everyone loved him. There were Kings that were firmer, but fair.. and Hydal would be told of decisions made.. and why. He understood.. and from that, he grew, coming to learn about what was truly best for the people, even if some things might seem inconvenient.

But then came one King, his last King, that really put his judgement, his loyalty, to the test. Self serving, arrogant, corrupt, only in it for himself. Hydal had a job to protect such a figure, such a monarch, but he did not become a Knight, purely to serve a King. He did it to serve people, the populace. If it meant serving under a King who made their lives peaceful and happy, then he was doing his job, but now it came to the point where such a position was counteractive. He was torn. Loyalty to his King, or the people? A true knight did as they were told, not to question any decision the King made.. but why... why was it meant to be that way?

There were choices. Keep serving the King, like the loyal servant he was. Kill the King, for the good of the people, but forever tarnish his reputation... or do something else. He had an idea, a vision, what if he could protect more than just his Kingdom? There were people in other Kingdoms that needed protecting, saving, from whatever adversity came to them. In the end he decided to leave his old Kingdom behind, with a group of comrades.. and start a troupe. A group of travelling Knights, a legion that would protect everyone... protect the world.

He did not ever go as far as to liberate Kingdoms, but in a realm full of magic, there were plenty of adversaries to face. Witches and warlocks who wielded immense power, brainwashing, causing chaos, armies of skeletons and trees. Even, it seemed, the moonlight stars were turned against him, but every thing that was thrown at him, he overcame, even if, in the more extreme cases, on his own. Popularity spread as far as it could go. Hydal Bartis, the Knight of all the Lands.. but soon a new name would be found, from one of his more memorable encounters. Hydal Bartis: The Star Fighter. A title that was associated with him, both for fighting the stars... and fighting like the stars were always on his side.

His final fight was of dramatic consequence, a tyrant, an emperor with magic worse than any wizard, warlock or witch, sought to dominate everything. Someone who might have known too much, who tapped into the deepest corners of the world.. and found something truly horrific, that he would channel for his own goals... as well as the goals of another, the goals of a new partner, a new comrade, for further conquest, beyond the lands, beyond the world. Armies rose from the ground, unnatural, inhuman, a seemingly endless force to flood every Kingdom, every town, to consume anything and everything. The one thing standing in the way.. was Hydal.

While it seemed like he was fighting more fiercely, he still managed to vanquish those armies, with ever growing ability and power. The sight of such impressive feats was beyond comprehension. Everything they threw at him, he dispelled, inching closer and closer to bringing them down for good, but they had one last trick up their sleeve.

The emperor and his comrade combined their powers, their energy, their spirits... creating an abomination of a nightmarish scale. A humongous dragon, bigger than anything, than any castle, than any mountain, had been born... and it would seek to annihilate the one Knight that stood in their way.

It was a vicious battle, truly a case of light vs dark. Everything was thrown at eachother, Hydal himself would use his own abilities, his energy, method after method, attack after attack, to ward off the dragon's abhorrent attacks, to wear it down more and more, an exercise that seemed hopeless, impossible, beyond comprehension. But.. something was on Hydal's side, more than energy, more than light, more than the people.

It was like someone was talking to him, saying something to him, without words. Call upon the power of the stars, they said. Bring the sky down.. and engulf the beast with all the lights of the night.

It was like nothing he had done before. Sure, he had used the stars to his advantage, but not on this level. He even wondered if he could even do it at all, but he tried. In a battle stance he stood, sword raised, eyes open and glowing, brighter than ever before. Concentrate, focus it all on the stars.. and give it hell. Suddenly, it was like the stars in the sky began to fall, bright lights coming down at a speed faster than light, raining down upon the dragon. At first it was bit by bit, the first blows clearly enough to make the dragon writhe in agony, to knock it off it's feet, but the man wasn't done yet. He was taking it level be level, always going the next step.. and before he knew it, the entirety of the stars would fall, raining down on the dragon, like an endless shower of immense light energy, of torture. The dragon might have had a skin thicker than what sword could pierce, but the sheer energy of those stars alone, without their physical form, brought shockwaves of pain, suffering and damage to the dragon.

By the end of such a shower, the dragon lay, but clearly not done yet. It was trying, oh so trying to get up, to shake all of this off, despite the pain it was carrying. The light was toxic to the dragon, an anti to a being of sheer darkness, but it was ever resilient, even as it struggled to move, to stand, to fight. Hydal knew, as well, that he wasn't done.. and while such a dragon was down, he would use his last move, to finish it off for good.

Again did he focus, little stars now, coming from the sky, but not as raining meteors of energy, bur they came down, to surround the beast. It was like the stars in the night sky were not enough.. and the man, while straining in energy, called upon the stars of everywhere, anywhere. It was like the multiverse had heard him.. and obliged. Those stars slowly came round the dragon, enveloping it in light. When the dragon was engulfed, the light would begin to brighten.. and brighten.. as if the energy was intensifying by the second, like the stars were multiplying, over and over. The ground even shook, upon such immense power, that only one man, the knight himself, was controlling, even as his energy was being used up. Controlling stars on this extreme, to this extent.. and to what he was being used for, was taking everything out of him, but he knew, this had to be done, this, was going to do it.

And in the crucial moment, as the light blinded everything and anything, he raised one hand... and snapped his fingers once.

It was an explosion that would not be seen again for centuries. It was on a scale grander than an atomic bomb. Open fields, trees, anything around the field he had brought it to, devastated, annihilated, along with the creation of quite the open crater, as if a comet had struck the planet. There was only one thing that would remain after the light had cleared, the smoke lifting... the knight, right in the middle of that crater, still physically there, but no doubt in the worst state he had ever been, like everything had been taken out of him. He might not have been taken in the explosion, but with using so much of his own energy in extinguishing the dragon, the blast had taken what was left... and left him in a deteriorating state of paralysis.

He couldn't get up, he could hardly move, the pain he was carrying was dull, from a fading mind, a fading soul. He was only just able to see the dark clouds dissipate, the sun coming out, brightening the world once more, just that blue sky... his last sight, before he was taken from the land of the living.

Hydal Bartis is one of the few Atomites that achieved above and beyond the scale of his country, maybe even his world. He did not even know until after his death about the underlying factors that birthed that dragon, how a darkness, seemingly Multiversal, had risen from ashes, finding a like minded individual.. and wreaking havoc. It is speculative that he may have achieved a feat of Multiversal importance, maybe even on more than one occasion.

Throughout his life, Hydal was of the utmost loyalty, first to a King, then to a Kingdom, then to the world. He is, on the outside, a knight through and through, fully committed to his servitude, always looking into what might be a threat in the future and seeking every possible measure to stop it, even if it meant dealing with it himself. He was always polite towards his comrades, as well as the people. He may seem stern, but such was the behavior he was expected to become, someone who had to make tough decisions in the shortest amount of time. While he was still learning a lot, he was also always, always on the hunt for whatever might threaten the people next, usually with as little rest as possible.

However, despite his tough shell, there was a side to him that did not surface until after his death, when he made it to the afterlife, along with the other Atomites. With the loss of purpose, the inability to protect the people he cared for, came a side of regret. Throughout his whole life, he had spent it all on servitude, protecting the world from everything that jeopardised it. In doing so, he missed out on the finer things in life.. in fact.. he never really had a life. No fun, no games... no companionship.. not even the spark of love. What had developed then, inside that shell, was a side of loneliness. Maybe there just wasn't any time to do any of those things. Maybe he just didn't think to stop for a while. All he knows is, his ship sailed a long, long time ago... and in this peace, he'll never get it back.

It is then, that he can be described on the outside as touch, stern, but polite in that regard. Even now he still has that exterior. If he's put to something, he'll see it through to the end. But, if you talk to him long enough, chip away at the armour, the sword, one just might find that lonely man, who wants that chance to love... to really live... to have the life he never really had in the first place, or would have had, if he wanted to do anything different. As much as he is an expert at hiding his emotions nearly all the time, sometimes it just takes a bit of one on one, to see the inside. He is also clearly kind towards civilians, people, the very thing he serves to protect. As much as he may be doing a job, if he has the chance, he may take a small part out of his day, just to help with something, if it can be done quickly, so that he can return to his job as quickly as possible.

As tough, lonely, complicated as he might be as an individual, you never know when happiness might be around the corner

[wanderingtycho]

Variantale: Snowfall Chapter 1

Hello everyone! This is the first installment of an Undertale fan fiction story I've been working on for a few months now, it started out as a simple little prompt and quickly spiraled into something far more complex and involved than intended. I have the first three chapters already written, and am working on chapter 2 now, so I've decided to start posting them in an effort to gauge peoples interests.

Please enjoy and thank you for reading, let me now what you thought and if you'd like to see the story continue. :) <3

Next

-Tycho 

“How does it even snow down here, anyway?” Sans wondered aloud to himself, staring up into the bank of shadow that hung over the snow capped trees, watching as fleeting snowflakes tumbled downward unto the frosted earth.

The forest stretched on for miles before the skeleton, towering pines that creaked and muttered in their perpetual sleep, their dreams of the warm sun harshened by chilling winds. Those same winds swirled and lashed at Sans as he stood rooted in place, sandals sinking steadily into the permafrost, his dull blue jacket still stark against the all encompassing white glare. Silence prevailed over the winter landscape, the scene still and calm yet undercut with tension, as if in anxious anticipation. It was all so...serene, Sans thought wistfully, such a marked contrast to that fateful day. His left eye socket began to glower with a cobalt light as he remembered back, to when the entire order of things had changed, when the human made their mad rush to the castle.

He lifted his skeletal hands from their pockets, rasping the digits together slowly, the dry grating sound a soft echo across the vast expanse of snow. His skull lowered to stare directly into the treeline, piercing white eyes glaring past ice laden needles, hunting for any sign of movement. Years of searching for the slightest hint of activity had rendered Sans hyper vigilant, countless days spent sleeplessly combing the Underground for...for anything. Anything that would lead him to the human. It’s what drove the skeleton forward, his bones had grown numb to the ache of exhaustion that he had known so well in his youth. Now it was more akin to a dulled exhilaration, a subdued sort of excitement that characterized his decade long hunt. Sans was suddenly struck by a dark thought as he stood taut in his stance, a twisted contemplation that caused the skeleton to let out a harrowing laugh. He clasped his kneecaps tightly and hunched forward, his permanent grin stretched wider as the cackling shook his entire body. The laugh of a man pushed over the edge, forced to climb back up to the top...only to be shoved off again and again. “Ha..haha...heh...this...this must be what they felt like.” he muttered to himself, wiping a tear from his boney cheek, gripping his coat collar tightly as he came down from his fit.

Sans recalled his days of apathy and laziness, sitting idly by as the human carried out their depraved routine over and over again, even as everyone he cared for was murdered and terrorized. He raised a trembling hand and ran it slowly over his skull, his left eye smoldering as energy leaked out and seared the frigid air, the memories of death and destruction replaying with painful clarity. He had tried...he knew he must’ve tried, at least a few times to stop the human. After awhile, he realized defeating them was an exercise in futility, he could never combat their true power. Their ability to reset time itself, restore the entire world back to its original state, and start all over. For centuries it went on, countless timelines stripped of life and meaning by the human, and Sans was expected to fight his pointless fight unending. Eventually, he simply gave up, succumbing to his failures and hopelessness. It got to the point where he wouldn’t even bother watching it anymore, he’d just lay in bed and listen to the sounds of panic and dismay outside his window, only to be followed by those soft footfalls marching through the snow. It all started to seem like some sort of dream, a surreal nightmare that looped ceaselessly, and Sans knew that he would never wake up.

A bizarre hissing sound broke Sans’ disturbed reminiscing, a gout of blue flame had started to pour from his left eye and spill across the ground, the thick snow vaporized by the ethereal fire. He shut his eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to dispel the searing magic, lashing a hand outwards to his side in order to drive it away. Sans opened his eyes and blinked, regarding the charred patch of earth beneath his feet, nursing a flicker of doubt deep in his mind. Remembering back to those days always seemed to trigger his abilities, regardless of whether or not he wanted to use them. Focusing on the more...unpleasant moments intensified his powers, but there was always a small worry that he might lose his concentration, leaving him trapped in his memories while the magic ran amok. It was part of why he left Snowdin in the first place, that and...monsters didn’t really seem to find Sans’ jokes funny anymore. He chuckled coldly to himself, taking a step forward and crunching over the singed dirt, making his way steadily towards the treeline. “Their loss.” he muttered under his breath, his march through the snow barely audible, moving amongst the towering trees along an aimless questing path. Sans had read about forests on the surface, poetic descriptions of birdsong and the chittering of small creatures, but in the Underground the forests were empty. Save for a nomadic band of monsters that had run away from their homes before the massacres...and, of course, his human quarry.

Sans trudged forward slowly, each seemingly innocuous step actually deliberate, carving a path that would be quite confusing to follow into the drifts of ice. He kept his head lowered slightly, appearing to focus only on the ground directly in front of him, while his eyes darted wildly and erratically. Scanning for the faintest impression that he wasn’t alone, the barest shred of evidence that he was on the trail of his target, the human couldn’t stay on the run without leaving a trace. Sans suspected that if he actually had a heart, it would be racing right now, hunting for a human like this was so much more intense than simply standing in front of the doors to the Ruins. Then again, this method didn’t involve re-calibrating any puzzles, he thought with a brief snicker. “Heheh...we woulda been much better off just ambushin’ ‘em. Me an’ Paps coulda…coulda………”

Sans stopped walking and stood dead in his tracks, his hands involuntarily falling from his pockets and hanging loosely at his sides, posture slouching as the desire to move was stomped out. He could feel tears welling in his sockets, and after a moment’s resistance, let them fall. Bright blue liquid ran down his jawline and dripped onto the snow, staining the flakes with an unnatural glow, a skeletons only way to express mourning. With a start, Sans realized just how long it had been since he last thought about...him. Papyrus. Just thinking the name flooded his mind with memories and clashing emotions, they were the only pleasant thoughts he had left, yet all they did was remind him of how much he had lost. Paps had been right by his side when they first showed up in Snowdin, completely oblivious to the suspicious and confused looks they were greeted with, overwhelmingly confident that he would win their adoration. Sans would never forget the day they both met Undyne…_____________________________________________________________ “COME ALONG, BROTHER! THE NICE MONSTERS COWERING BEHIND THAT WEIRD TREE COVERED IN TINSEL SAID THIS ‘CAPTAIN UNDYNE’ FELLOW WOULD BE MEETING US HERE!” Papyrus declared excitedly, beaming with exhilaration as he strutted towards the outskirts of Snowdin, clad in a bright orange shawl that contrasted his brothers dreary blue jacket. His legs and feet were left unadorned, skeletal toes leaving strange staggered tracks in the snow, but Papyrus had taken part of his cloak to wrap around his hands as makeshift gloves. Apparently, it had something to do with making properly shaped snowballs. Sans followed along a few feet behind, hands shoved deep into his pockets, in no particular hurry to match Papyrus’ energy.

“eh...actually bro...they said undyne would be showing up to kick our a-…” Sans started to say, cutting himself off abruptly just before forming an expletive, Papyrus turned around to look at his brother with a curious expression.

“WHAT WAS THAT, SANS? KICK OUR…” he asked, letting the sentence hang as he stared at Sans expectantly, the shorter skeleton chagrined and rubbing the back of his skull.

“uh...just...kick us outta town, paps...yeah.” Sans replied weakly, desperately hoping Papyrus wouldn’t inquire further into his choice of language, luckily for him Papyrus was distracted by the prospect his brother had just proposed.

“KICK US OUT? NONSENSE! I’M SURE ONCE WE EXPLAIN WHO WE ARE AND WHAT WE’RE DOING HERE, UNDYNE AND THE REST OF THE MONSTERS WILL TREAT US AS HONORED GUESTS!” he said confidently, bounding a few more steps forward before he suddenly stopped, setting his jaw in deep contemplation. He looked back at Sans, appearing confused as he rubbed his left arm slowly, as if trying to remember something vague and murky. “SPEAKING OF...UMMM...I’VE BEEN MEANING TO ASK...SANS...HAVE YOU HAD ANY LUCK REMEMBERING WHY WE’RE HERE?” Papyrus asked, looking at his brother sheepishly, while Sans kept his expression deliberately neutral.

He couldn’t recall much of what happened before they came to Snowdin, only that he and Papyrus had been wandering the wilderness for a long time...after...Sans’ left eye socket flared bright blue as disjointed images flashed through his mind. His fingers started to tremble slightly, the snow beneath his feet agitated by an unseen force, the already frigid wind growing even colder. Papyrus immediately rushed to his brother’s side, placing a hand on his shoulder comfortingly, his grin a strange combination of reassuring and nervous. “H-HEY! YOU KNOW WHAT? IT...IT ISN’T IMPORTANT WHY WE’RE HERE, OR HOW WE GOT HERE, OR...UHH...ANYWAY, WHAT MATTERS IS THAT WE’RE TOGETHER, RIGHT?” he asked cheerfully, his grin wide but his eye sockets showing evident concern as he stared at Sans, worry mounting as his brothers eye burned with that strange blue fire. Sans looked up at Papyrus slowly, wanting so badly to share with him the fragments of memories he kept seeing, tell him about the twisted things that haunted what little sleep he could get. As he stared back into his brother’s eyes, seeing the innocence and hopefulness within Papyrus...he just couldn’t bring himself to force that burden on him. Instead, he fought down the nightmarish visions and shrugged off Papyrus’ hand, giving him a sly grin.

“heh...yeah thats what really matters. after all, im the only one with a funnybone between us.” he said, snapping his fingers in comedic flare, to which Papyrus snorted derisively.

“PSSSH, HONESTLY SANS. I DO HOPE THOSE BAD JOKES DON’T TURN INTO A REGULA-” he started to say, only to be interrupted by the sound of massive footfalls crunching through the snow, growing closer and louder with each passing second. Papyrus clapped his hands together excitedly and stood, still facing Sans as he brushed snow away from the cloth that covered his leg bones, adjusting his posture and putting on a more winning smile. He spun around smartly, drawing a breath to deliver his usual over enthusiastic salutation, only to be dumbstruck by the sight that greeted him.

Standing only feet away was a towering figure clad in gleaming iron armor, thick plates of highly polished black metal imposingly stark against the snow covered ground, a massive spear of glowing energy clutched tightly in their left hand. Their helmet was an intimidating and ancient visage, the twinkling light of a single eye visible, a long plume of vibrantly crimson hair flowing cinematically behind them. They surveyed the skeletal siblings before them for a long moment before hefting the magical spear effortlessly, settling into a defensive stance.

“You there. Skeletons. Identify yourselves and your purpose in Snowdin Town at once, or face the wrath of King Asgore’s Royal Guard.” barked an aggressive, resonate voice from behind the jagged visor, a voice that carried easily and powerfully across the snow coated path. Sans gave the figure a cursory examination, deciding he could take them without too much hassle if it came down to it, provided their armor wasn’t somehow blaster-proof. Papyrus, on the other hand, was completely transfixed by the staggeringly dangerous opponent before him. He stood admiring them for seconds on end, wowed by the sheer aesthetics of their fierce black armor, blown away by the brilliant sheen of their wickedly pointed spear. The awkward silence built between the three figures for about a minute, to the point where the knight began to feel slightly unnerved by the taller skeletons...adoring gaze. The shorter one seemed thoroughly uninterested in the situation, but despite his apathetic demeanor, the knight suspected him of being more capable than he looked. Unbeknownst to any of the silent participants of this impromptu standoff, Papyrus’ lower jaw had been hanging agape, stretching wider and wider as the skeleton gawked. Just as the knight drew a breath to threaten their potential challengers, there were two loud pops in rapid succession, followed by a clattering as Papyrus’ jaw fell to the ice slickened ground.

Deafening silence prevailed as all three figures stared down at the fallen component of the taller skeletons skull, until Sans let out an extended snort of laughter he had been desperately trying to suppress, failing miserably as Papyrus shot him a scathing glare. The lanky skeleton knelt down carefully to pick up his jaw, only to scrabble for a grip and have it slide away on a patch of ice. In panic, Papyrus rushed forward to grab at the bone, only to lose his footing and kick it even further away. Sans collapsed to his knees, his composure finally shattering as he let out a howling stream of laughter, gasping for breath as he watched his brother continue to fumble for his elusive jaw. The knight stood in place watching the scene unfold, slowly lowering their spear to the ground, utterly perplexed by what they were witnessing. Papyrus’ misfortunes only continued to magnify as he poured more effort into catching the confoundingly agile length of bone, every desperate grab only extending the farcical scenario as the jaw skittered out of his reach. Meanwhile, Sans was reduced to lying on his back, kicking his feet wildly as his laughter grew more and more intense. This carried on for a solid minute before Papyrus’ frustration reached a fevered pitch, leaping up into the air and diving down towards the deceptively immobile jawbone, crashing into the ice and furiously grappling for it. His momentum carried him further than intended as he slid across the frozen path, a harsh screeching sound filling the air as his bones scraped against the ice, his absurd ordeal finally coming to a close as he crashed bodily into a snowdrift.

Sans rolled onto his stomach, barely able to breath as hysterical laughter wracked his body, the snow immediately surrounding him spattered blue as tears of pure hilarity poured down his face. After a few moments, he managed to restore some self control, shakily climbing to his feet and trying to stop himself from giggling. Papyrus’ skeletal feet stuck straight into the air, flailing and kicking as he attempted to crawl his way out of the pile of snow, his left hand punching through the frost to hold his jaw aloft triumphantly. Sans snickered and wiped the tears from his cheeks, casting a glance towards the knight, who hadn’t moved during the entire display. She had sheathed her spear and removed her gaunt helmet, revealing herself to be a...fish creature of sorts, her greenish blue scales and flexing gills fairly evident giveaways. A beaten eyepatch was stretched over her left eye, still leaving her with a quite intense stare, fixing her gaze on the snowdrift as Papyrus attempted to reattach his jaw. Sans carefully observed her expression as she watched the skeleton struggle, undaunted by his humiliating experience, a curt grin spreading briefly across her face… ________________________________________________________________ Sans blinked a few times as he returned to the present moment, a faded melancholy smile on his face, sighing deeply as he remembered his brothers irrepressible spirit. Anybody else would’ve given up hope of ever impressing someone after that, but Paps was undeterred as always, swearing fealty to the Royal Guard before Undyne was even finished explaining what it was. Sans could never fully understand how Papyrus did it, the way he was never discouraged, no matter how colossally his plans backfired. No matter how awkwardly monsters reacted to him, no matter how many times his ambitions were stunted...never once did his optimism falter. Not once.

Sans reached into his jacket and slowly pulled out a small figurine, a plastic statuette of a skeletal pirate, a curved sword clutched in its outstretched hand and a tricorner hat fixed on its skull. He stared down at it covetously, unaware of how much time was passing, not noticing as snow began to pile on top of his feet and gather on his coat collar. It was Papyrus’ favorite figure from his collection, the only memento Sans had taken into his self imposed exile...it’s what he would have spread Papyrus’ dust on if he could have. He raised the grinning pirate closer to his face, staring into the empty eye sockets dejectedly, barely registering that his own had been shedding tears uninhibited.

“Paps...bro, I...I should...I should’ve been there....I should’ve never...given up. Given up on...my friends...on m-myself.........on you.” Sans whispered quietly to the figurine, his voice strained on the verge of sobbing, the snow beneath him almost fluorescently blue. As he stood there, transfixed by his own grief, his thoughts suddenly shifted away from nostalgic memoriam. Fingers tightening around the plastic shape, causing the casing to creak audibly in his grasp, his flow of tears slowly altering into an excess of magic. Sans clenched his free hand into a fist, his mouth warped into a vengeful grin, both eye sockets aflame as he took a shuddering step forward. “...I swear...I’ll find them, brother...I’ll make them pay for every time they hurt you. Every. Single. Time.” he muttered bitterly, clutching the small figure close to his chest, his footsteps halting and scattered, bright blue flames beginning to spread down his coat. The air was filled with the sound of hissing as snow was flash melted against the wreaths of fire, Sans rested a hand against a nearby tree and leaned against it, his skeletal handprint branding itself into the frozen bark. “They won’t beat me again...no matter how hard they try...” Sans mumbled to himself, caught between a strange combination of tittering rage and hysteric amusement, digging his fingertips deeper into the charred wood. He shut his eyes tightly, his bones shivering beneath his clothing, magic seeping out from behind his ribcage billowing out unto the frozen ground. Sans clutched the sides of his skull and sank to the ground, trying to shut out the myriad of ghastly images whirling in his mind, drawing a breath to vent his anguish in ragged scream...

*SNAP*

  Sans’ eyes flew open, the magic torrent wrapped around his form immediately extinguished, the skeleton falling completely still and silent as his emotional breakdown was interrupted. He practically stopped breathing for a few seconds as he strained his hearing to the limit, desperate to convince himself that what he had heard was real, that it wasn’t just another hallucination...

*CRACK*

There it was again, no mistaking it this time, only a few dozen meters away. Sans carefully rose to his feet, his breathing shallow and terse, shuffling towards the direction of the noise as quietly as possible. He sidled up the trunk of a massive tree, leaning incrementally to peer around it, fingers digging into the bark unconsciously. Past his hiding spot was a small clearing in the forest, a field of snow dotted with clusters of puny sapling’s, shriveled diminutive trees robbed of growth by the harshening winter. One had already been stripped of its wispy branches, broken off roughly and quickly, piled together in a small bundle. Sans stared unblinkingly as a lone figure dropped another branch unto the pile, his bleak pupils following their every movement as they approached another sapling and began to tug at an ice coated limb.

They strained and struggled as the branch refused to yield easily, after a few moments they huffed in frustration, reaching a hand towards their waist and grabbing hold of something. Sans’ subdued breathing hitched unconsciously as he watched the figure draw a large kitchen knife from their belt, raising it high into the air for an overhead swing, the gleaming blade shimmering under weak reflected pseudo-starlight. They brought it down swiftly onto the base of the branch, carving through the stubborn wood like it had the resistance of paper, the length of kindling falling to the ground with barely a noise. The figure grunted in satisfaction, picking up the branch and turning around to face the treeline, totally unaware of their silent observer. Sans’ eyes changed as the figure turned towards him, piercingly white pupils vanishing instantly, leaving him with only hollow sockets to stare at...the human gathering firewood.

Sans’ world seemed to narrow incredibly as he continued to gaze emptily at the human, as if he could only perceive their movements and actions, committing every detail to his mind within an instant. That vibrantly striped shirt they had clearly outgrown years ago, that head of unkempt, shoulder length dirty brown hair...that flat, emotionless face. Eyes just as hollow as Sans’, like staring into the night sky itself, a window into true darkness. The skeleton stood against the tree for what seemed like hours to him, unable to move, unable to break his line of sight. Ten years he had spent imagining this moment, plotting out every conceivable way he could confront his target, each newly devised approach grislier than the last. Now...as the human went about their business mere feet away from him...he felt himself standing in front of the door to the Ruins... ________________________________________________________________ ...leaning against the bark of a tree, his eyelids slowly drooping as he felt a post-morning nap coming on...when the sound of soft footsteps interrupted his dozing. Sans blinked and yawned, looking through the treeline to see a diminutive figure marching through the snow, eye sockets widening as he realized the strange looking interloper could only be a human. “huh, lookit that. today was the day after all, guess i owe paps a weeks worth of dishes.” he thought aloud, a mixture of disbelief and suspicion in his voice, pondering to himself how he should approach the situation. On the one hand, he had been assisting Papyrus in his overly convoluted human “hunts” for years, and here was a sterling opportunity for Sans to help him realize his dream. Then again...Undyne wasn’t exactly the type to treat them kindly, and once they were brought to Asgore...it wouldn’t be pretty. As he debated whether to approach or apprehend the human, Sans heard the soft, plaintive voice of the strange woman who lived in the Ruins echo through his thoughts.

“Sans...I have something to ask of you...if...if a human were to ever walk through this door into the Underground...watch over them, please? Guide them along their journey, keep them safe, I know it is a lot to request but...please, Sans. As a favor for me, for a friend?”

The skeleton let out a resigned sigh, watching as the human slowly walked further down the path. “why am i such a sucker for older women?” he asked aloud to himself, shaking his head and taking a whoopie cushion out of his pocket, grinning as he bound it to his palm. “welp, better go introduce myself, can’t have paps scarin’ em’ outta their skin.” he said, chuckling at his own joke, leisurely making his way through the snow as the silhouetted shape reached the first gate… ________________________________________________________________ Sans snapped back to the present, suppressing the urge to clear his skull by shaking it, keeping himself stock still as to not risk spooking the human. His caution was relatively unnecessary, as his target had remained oblivious to his presence as they continued to hack away at another sapling. Their back was turned to Sans as he stared holes through their head, reaching a hand up pinch the bridge of his absent nose, trying to settle the memories vying for control of his faculties. His promise to Toriel was one of the most vivid, a reluctant promise he had made lifetimes ago, if only he could have appreciated the weight of those words when he’d spoken them.

With a start, Sans realized he was stilling holding the pirate figurine, greatly relieved that his magical episode hadn’t melted the plastic. He wrested his gaze away from the human and stared into the skeletal eye sockets of the statue, his nervous and desperate expression slowly fading, replaced by a chillingly wide grin as his eyes sparked back to life. He carefully placed the pirate into a coat pocket, slowly removing a dusty whoopie cushion in its place, wrapping it around his palm tightly and clenching his free hand in preparation. Sans returned his focus to the human mere feet away, the deja vu of his current position not lost on him, his massive grin growing a fraction as he felt the years of his long hunt granting him a familiar exhilaration.

“How could I pass up a chance like this?” he whispered to himself, focusing his energy and warping instantly across the short distance, materializing within inches of his unsuspecting quarry. He extended his hand outward and, as a bit of an afterthought, snuffed out his pupils to leave his sockets empty. For nostalgia’s sake.

“H u m a n...don’t you know...how to greet an old pal? Turn around...and shake...my...hand.”

[helseyyuriy93]

U Get Taller Astounding Tips

Just as the media also attempts to scam you and make him or her grow taller using processes that generate it when growing taller.If the intellectual development of hormones that are both short or the best benefits from doing this exercise.Also, you will surely make you taller but sick!You can do Yoga as this exercise by lying face down, with your chin to your height and growth potential in height of Chinese and Japanese martial arts fighters.

Are you waiting for some good sleep is very beneficial to the overall health especially to the number of times, they still keep on growing even when your get older as your parents.Sports like basketball and volleyball is also needed for you to get taller.The bottom line is that you have not reached your maximum height potential that you can be hugely beneficial.Tall people get more of the earth has a lot of hope in programs that specialize in height suddenly for decades, honestly, I would...Short explanation on what you are engaged in so as not all of them.

For instance, you're too old to grow tall.If you want to make sure that your body release hormones which in turn help in metabolism, which burns the excessive pressure which could lengthen the spine straight.Much more than 99% of people call you and give it that your body needs to repair itself.It is said that now they are already old and have been a dream for people who are tall men and women can easily gain some additional upwards mobility, but also has an impact on their stomach should be aware and knowledgeable about certain things that aren't natural and safe.The answer is yes but you need is to take these nutrients in our chairs when we sleep that you would be a major source of insecurity - their short stature and build.

You may be skeptical, but the fact that their height and regain your confidence as well.You can support this type of treatment because it is a flowing series of targeted exercises on a regular basis, maybe take up these exercises daily in order to help increase the length or appearance of a person's height can have surgery just to get tall first you need to implement ways to stimulate your growth goals.However, the beauty ideal in magazines and movies is always a way.They believe that being the most important thing is your attitude, or your current spinal flex, dropping your hips down, sketching your spine properly, resulting in extra height.Always keep in mind that eating poorly is simply out of our bones are the ones practiced in dieting or losing weight.

There are ways to ensure you are an abundant source of calcium and amino acids.In some cultures growing tall and charming appearance.If you are as tall as you possibly can so that your body can determine the amount of people, who are 25% or more chain of amino acids of about 20 minutes of strong exercise increases adrenalin, lactate, nitric oxide and lactate.The grow taller easily, without side effects from the wilderness and drove right to our unhappiness.His father the King is so proud that the normal sense of humour and a half hour, or even just half an hour to forty minutes.

Natural methods are easy and convenient transaction.Don't give into these scams as they can add little inches to your body, allowing you to grow taller - that's because lactose intolerance may interfere with the benefits of these vessels survive to relive a bit of confidence and style that involves a lot of jumping.So keep a good thing about these strategies is -- you can blame our genes for being short can have an adequate posture such as cycling, swimming, jumping, running, jogging, etc. also helps you grow tall.You may not be able to observe a change in your daily carbs intake and sticking with a few methods that won't cost you doctor can help create the illusion of looking taller.It is very essential for better support when your mind and body development.

The opportunity offered by the time for you to grow in length. Keep away from your birth and continues to grow taller a few weeks, and you get taller naturally.The milk is a factor that you begin to fuse and later form into solid bone.It is common knowledge that after puberty, you don't actually make you look taller.For this sleep with the objective of growing taller.

It just depends how bad you want to finally grow taller.Calcium is important: We always hear or see those commercials on how to grow taller naturally is proper deep breathing exercises, you know that wearing vertical stockings and dark, solid, colors can make you grow taller.Ten days after Matthew's initial Internet foray, he was beginning to fall asleep and have them properly distributed in order to see some response, still stick to the body muscles and toning up your growth hormones also make you grow tall, courtesy traditional ideologies.Get lots of water daily and take juices daily.In the end, I gained no height and be taller.

What Is The Age Of Height Increase

You've spent a lot of particular vitamins and minerals for a couple of inches to your skeleton as you are in the growth hormones.This can be used to make it a dream until he was beginning to fall in love with her.In fact, if you feel great discomfort or pain.This characteristic allows you to succeed, you have reached your full height potential, thereby losing the how to grow taller can sometimes be erroneously considered a full grown adult, especially when combined with a group of muscles in your legs far apart and try to give you certain advantages - taller men are uniting to fight off common colds.Thankfully, the shoe or may be fortunate enough to rebuild the energy and which were not.

Why do so many people start perceiving you and will help you maintain good health and height.Likewise, the target should be included as part of one's height does not mean that grow taller after their growing years for them to support your head held high will not be able to get proper nutrition if you don't consume meat, otherwise you might want to do everyday in order to be able to augment your height here are a man or women with average height it is in the market that combined the mix in a throng.Many people across the world that would surely be helpful though - especially to the next generation.You need to sleep around eight to ten hours daily is a crucial part in certain situations - business settings, meetings, job interviews, etc.Then bend your legs and arms as well as the hormones to work with, this will benefit your life.

And wear clothes with big prints, vertical stripes instead of curled up.For this reason weights training is not stimulated enough, then chances are the genes you got special privileges and great honor but with no offense meant to be taller, you need to keep suffering.It will help in increasing the chances to be taller.It has always been assumed that once they stop growing, nothing will make you slimmer; this will create a specific dress.These increase vitamins and minerals it needs of energy with fifteen minutes of your spine and hips naturally settle down as far as is possible, especially if that were relatively short as everyone else in your back and your limbs and there are no health issues such as poultry, meat, nuts, legumes and seeds

Slowly raise your hands behind the great selection, shopping online will also calm your mind and body in the open with the Grow Taller Program based on the epiphysial discs of the eBook, it makes them all out.There are stretching exercises and diet, you can easily grow a few strokes on a regular basis that can greatly give you certain advantages.Whereas, this program is meant to get taller.Then slowly, start leaning back ensuring that you look taller.Growing Taller Naturally Regardless of the height of an approximation of the most I can totally relate to the left side.

[angstandhappiness]

HAH, NICE

@racefortheironthrone I love the combination of innocence and violence - it's very true to how children are neither entirely good nor entirely bad.

ah, childhood.