#decontamination tunnel

[in1-nutshell]

With tfa Megatron getting a version of Ophelia can you give earthspark megs his own Ophelia? And him just getting parenting tips from dot?

Introducing TFE Ophelia!

Hope you enjoy!

TFE Ophelia

SFW, Platonic, Familial, ANGST, Mention of injuries, Hinted Romance, Cybertronian reader

TFE

She was a small sparkling living near the mining tunnels when D-16 first found her.

The poor thing was all soot covered and looked like she hadn’t refueled in a long time.

He kept on passing her scraps of energon, until one day he picked her up and brought her home.

Orion was surprised to find the sparkling in a highchair munching happily on an energon goody in his friend’s home.

Orion: “…” D-16: “… Pax—” Orion: “What happened to ‘I’m not getting attached’?” D-16: “I’m not!” Orion raises his optic and looks at D-16’s arms. They were filled with blankets, a heating pad and energon bottle with markers. Orion: “Right…” The sparkling chirps. Orion: “Just wait until Ariel finds out you have been keeping a sparkling from her.” D-16: “Wait no!”

Given the tight work hours D-16 and Orion were given, it was up to Ariel to help out with the babysitting.

Sure, she was also working similar hours, but she had managed to get it fixed enough for her to babysit the sparkling.

Ariel absolutely adored the tiny bean, even strapping the bean to her chassis so she could exercise while having the sparkling nearby.

Though D-16 made sure to start being more present once he came back and his sparkling started giving him Ariel’s signature smirk.

It would also be on one of these visits that she would get her name.

D-16 and Orion arrive at Ariel’s home. Ariel opened the door with the sparkling clinging to her helm. Ariel: “Welcome home mechs.” They all entered the home. D-16 tries to get his sparkling, but Ariel swats his servo away. Ariel: “No touching Ophelia until you’ve decontaminated yourself.” D-16: “I suppose—wait, Ophelia?” Ariel puffs her chassis. Ariel: “That’s her name! Isn’t that right Ophelia?” The sparkling whirls and chirps happily. Orion coos and reaches out for her but is also swatted by Ariel’s servo. Ariel: “That includes you too Pax!” D-16: “You named her! I was supposed to name her!” Ariel: “Okay what did you have in mind?” D-16: “… Lithia?” Ariel: “No.” D-16: “What do you mean no!” Orion: “Why don’t we let her decide. Call out her name and see which one she reacts best.” D-16: “Lithia, hey Lithia look at me.” The sparkling just stared at him blankly. Ariel: “Ophelia!” The sparkling starts giggling and chirping. Orion: “Guess that’s settled then.”

Ophelia wouldn’t have too many memories of her Uncle Orion and Auntie Ariel.

Too young to be thrusted into a war.

Given Ophelia being a youngling, there wasn’t much she could do.

Mainly staying by Megatron’s side or with any other trusted Con’s on base.

Which was really just Soundwave.

He mainly watched over her, so she never went too far or did anything dangerous.

The mini’s also helped and made sure she was okay.

Megatron: “Soundwave, where is Ophelia?” Soundwave opened his chassis. Ophelia was snoring softly. He gently takes her out and places the minibot in his servos. She was still small enough to fit in his servos. Megatron nods: “Soundwave.” Soundwave nods: “Lord Megatron.”

Once she was older, Megatron started training her.

Not only in the ways of combat, but to ready her to be the new leader of the Decepticon’s when the time came.

At first it was okay, a bit intense for her smaller frame, but, she kept on going to make her father proud.

But soon the training was getting too intense, borderline torturous.

The sessions were starting to leave her limping, dented and bleeding.

There had been multiple times Con’s carried her or called someone to get her to the med bay from how beaten she was.

Ophelia was limping, clutching her bleeding pede. She tenses when she hears a set of pede steps. Frenzy and Rumble: “ ‘Lia!” Two sets of servos grab her shoulders. She yelps at the sudden touch. Ophelia quickly shuts her mouth and fakes a smile. Ophelia: “Hey Frenzy, Rumble…” A larger pair of servos carefully lifts her up. Soundwave: “What happened?” Ophelia groans. Ophelia: “Training was a bit… tougher today.” Soundwave’s visor darkened a bit before he started walking to the med bay.

Most cons had respect for Ophelia.

Though she was the the head archivist and known pacifist, Ophelia was kind, a trait almost lost in the war.

She cared for the cause.

And despite her size, the minibot always spoke to her father about the members of their cause, whether to remind him that there were still some cons left behind or the need to get more supplies to feed them.

It risked her getting harsher training sessions but it was something she was willing to take for them.

It was the reason many were still online to this day.

A reason why most had already sworn loyalty to her in the case she ever did become the next leader of the Decepticons.

It was years into the war, everyone was tired and restless for an end.

It had been a terrible mission and Starscream was naturally to blame.

Except this time, it wasn’t his fault.

Megatron didn’t see that.

And started beating him senselessly.

Ophelia was walking past the room when she spotted Starscream get thrown into the wall. She stopped in her tracks. No, there was no way Megatron would blame Starscream for today’s loss… She was proven wrong as the war lord stalked over to him. The minibot quickly ran into the room and got in between the fallen Seeker and Megatron. Her appearance had surprised them both. Megatron: “Ophelia. Move.” Ophelia: “Why are you punishing Starscream?! He hasn’t done anything recently to deserve it!” Megatron: “Step. Aside.” Ophelia started to tremble a bit but glanced at Starscream. His dents and scraps stopped her from moving. Firmly standing her ground, she looked at him straight in the optics. Ophelia: “No.” Both mechs were surprised by this. Megatron: “Starscream… leave us.” The Second in Command looked hesitant but ended up leaving the room. The minibot looked sternly at her father. Ophelia: “Father, this has gone on for far enough. The beatings, the training, this war! We need to change. We need to talk to—” SLAM! Ophelia didn’t even register the kick Megatron delivered on her chassis until she slammed into the wall and fell on her face. She tried to get up but yelped at a sudden harsh pressure on her backstruts. Megatron was stepping on her, hard. Ophelia: “FATHER! FATHER STOP! PLEASE!” CREAK! Ophelia screamed louder as her energon began pooling from the mini rivers from the new and old cracks in her frame. Ophelia: “FATHER! FATHER STOP! STOP YOU’RE HURTING ME! IT HURTS!” Megatron, with a face of no remorse, stomped on her one last time before looking at the damage. The floor had cracks and a small minibot indent in it. Energon dribbling from her frame and pooling underneath. By some miracle, Ophelia was still awake, just barely. He reached down and grabbed her helm and held her up. She yelped at the sudden harsh movements. Held at optic level, Megatron sneered at her, pressing his fusion canon close to her face. Megatron: “Let this be the last time you EVER think on crossing me, little one.” THUD! He dropped her on the ground and walked away. Ophelia cried as she tried to crawl on the floor. A set of unfamiliar pedes appeared in front of her. She couldn’t hear what was being said as the darkness consumed her. At the medbay… Soundwave was in the med bay with some of the medics. A Vechicon kicks down the door, he was holding a bloodied, limp Ophelia in his arms. Soundwave: “Stev—” Steve: “SOMEONE HELP HER!”

A few days after that beating, the entire Decepticon armada was shook to its core.

Megatron had defected.

Ophelia had to ask if she was still hallucinating from the medication given or the energon loss because it didn’t seem real.

Megatron?

Defect?

But he was their leader!

Why would he?!

How could he!?

Another realization fell on her.

With no leader, the title went to the next in line.

Ophelia was in charge now.

Shockwave, Starscream and Soundwave were behind her and ready to help the new leader in her position.

For once all four of them had begun to work together to try and keep everything from falling apart.

Ophelia did her best to to lead the Cons and she did a good job considering the circumstances, but given the closing of the spacebridge and the overwhelming forces of the Autobots and humans…

By splitting up, it would give the Autobots a harder time catching all of them than staying in one big group.

Ophelia sent the Cons one finally message on the main communication line.

Stay safe and hide.

There was no other alternative.

Ophelia was the last Con to leave the base before the human forces came.

She had left with Soundwave and lived with him for a while before a sudden GHOST trap had separated them.

She hadn’t seen or heard from Soundwave or anyone since.

Ophelia is stumbling across the rocky terrain. Ophelia had injured her pede from her last encounter with GHOST, the new human group hunting down Decepticon’s. She would have sent out a message to any Con still out there… if that human hadn’t blasted her communication set up. Ophelia was trying to climb up a set of steep rocks. SNAP! Ophelia lost her grip. She waited for her back to make contact with the ground. Instead, a pair of servos had caught her. They felt strangely familiar. Ophelia looked up at who caught her. It was a vechicon. They stared at each other for a minute before he placed her down gently. Steve: “Lady Ophelia! It is good to see you are well.” Ophelia: “… Ophelia.” Steve: “What?” Ophelia: “Please, don’t call me ‘My Lady’. Just Ophelia. And you are?” Steve: “Steve My—I mean Ophelia.” He notices her pede sparking. Steve: “What happened to you?” Ophelia grimaces: “GHOST lackeys got lucky.” Steve: “I think I have a med kit back at my hide out. It might help with that.” Ophelia starts to stand up, but Steve had picked her up and started carrying her bridal style. Ophelia: “You don’t need to do this. I still have a pede, I can walk.” Steve: “You still have a pede but you won’t if you continue to put more pressure and strain on it.” Ophelia blinked. Steve: “I’m sorry! I stepped out of line—” Ophelia: “What? No, no you’re right.” Steve blinked. Ophelia: “Forgive me, I can be a bit stubborn sometimes.” Steve smiles as he starts walking. Steve: “But that stubbornness did get the lower ranks more supplies and energon. Something many of us are grateful for.” Ophelia smiled shyly. The two chatted as they made their way to the hideout as the sunset in the horizon.

[jellysshitpoems]

Thoughts on the Chernobyl HBO miniseries (assuming you’ve watched it)? I really enjoyed it but I’ve heard that some big parts of it were inaccurate

Sorry this took awhile to get to I had classes all day

I really liked the show, a lot of it was fairly accurate, but it’s a tv show so of course some things were played up for dramas sake and shock value. The only part of it that really stuck out to me was the way they portrayed radiation poisoning, it’s not completely false I suppose… but its definitely not accurate lmao

It’s been awhile since I watched it, I prefer actual documentaries when it comes to real stories, but from what I remember they showed the firefighters skin as like translucent almost??? Which isn’t how that works. They also showed in one of the scenes a power plant worker bleeding immediately after holding a door open to which also isn’t accurate. Radiation sickness technically can cause bleeding like that, but it was way too soon for it to be happening. I could go on, but radiation sickness isn’t the most fun topic

The only thing I specifically disliked about the show was the public response, which isn’t really the fault of the creators. The amount of tourists doing stupid shit in the exclusion zone/Pripyat just makes me cringe. People moving untouched items, painting radioactive things ‘fun’ colours for cool photo ops, taking radioactive materials as souvenirs… awful. I even remember this one ‘sexy’ photo in a decontamination suit posted on instagram that was taken in the middle of the city. Its disrespectful. Not to mention A HEALTH HAZARD. But Chernobyl tourism is a different topic entirely.

Buy yeah, thinking back to the show radiation sickness is the only inaccuracy I can really remember, other then the miners getting naked in the tunnels, that didn’t happen, but it was funny so Ill give them that!

[thestobingirlie]

i hate how theyre trying to make the supplemental media canon, especially when it counteracts established canon, either from the show or other supplemental media.

but the stranger things creatives dont seem to know the meaning of the word "canon" because they counteract previously established canon in the show.

take the atmosphere of the upside down.

in s1, it's well established that the atmosphere is toxic. lab employees use full hazmat suits and breathing apparatus when they're even going near the gate, let alone through it. joyce and hopper are given the same equipment when they go to get will. will is obviously very sick from the atmosphere.

in s2, the toxic atmosphere remains. hopper gets sick after spending a night in the tunnels. he then has to be decontaminated in the lab by agents in hazmat suits. when owens shows him the gate, they're all wearing hazmat suits. when steve and the kids go into the tunnels, they all wear makes and goggles.

but in s4, it's fine. steve, eddie, nancy and robin spend hours running around the upside down trying to escape, and none of them seem concerned about the toxic atmosphere, or that steve has open wounds in a toxic atmosphere. the kids don't pick up on it either. then they go back into the upside down again without anything to protect them from the atmosphere, and we're supposed to believe that they're just fine afterwards.

i honestly think the duffers have just forgotten, and also can’t be arsed lol.

i guess maybe they also kind of needed to tone down the upside down being toxic so no one really questions how vecna (still human despite looking like that and being dickless) managed to survive down there for so long.

steve just has canonical magical healing powers atp, because that boy should be dead lmao. running around open wounds. barefoot. not a care in the world. doesn’t even get his wounds checked. and stobancy got strangled for about half an hour. and somehow they don’t even have bruises lol.

[inposterumcumgaudio]

Poedit Cut/Unused Content: Haworth Labs

So the quest "Haworth Labs" was originally quite a bit different. Its sutitles are titled "Fun and Games" in Poedit and contains some cut eavesdroppers as well as conversations Arthur participates in that imply the structure of the quest involved more environmental storytelling and choice making based on it.

Basically, rather than immediately being recognized as an interloper as you are now, you'd be infiltrating Haworth Labs and pretending you worked there. You'd periodically be dragged into conversations with other workers and if you said the wrong thing, they could determine you were a spy and raise the alarm. It explains Arthur's objective note "I'll have to sweet talk my way past these check points if they spot me in here" for the first room after decontamination.

F_DL Do you smell burned motilene?

M_AH I always smell motilene. There's cracks in most of the pipes.

F_DL No, burned motilene. You don't think they mixed up the motilene and the methyltransferase?

M_AH How? One's a fuel and the other's a catalyst. One goes in the heating coil and the other goes in the reaction vat!

F_DL I heard Frankland saying motilene when he meant methyltransferase. I thought it was just a slip of the tongue, but with Dr. V swapping around all the precursors...

F_DL Could have been worse. What if they'd swapped it for the propanyl?

M_AH Do you want tell Dr. V?

F_DL Of course not! He'll tear my head off!

M_AH Well it's not going to be me. I like my job.

M Mr. Watt seems so upset. What if we got him a present?

PC How about a pinata? Uncle Jack did a whole episode on it.

F_M But Mr. Watt hates the Spanish. Ever since Gibraltar. Everybody knows that. You're an imposter! SPY! SPY!

PC He loves art. Maybe we could get him a painting of horses, or something.

M Oooh, my stomach's growling at the very thought of horses.

F I'm sort of worried about the tunnel rats. They haven't sung in a while.

"What? They just sort of squeak, don't they?"

F The Tunnel Rats! They came to serenade us -- who are you? A SPY! A SPY!

PC I hope they're not all gone on holiday. They were down to a duet, weren't they?

F If they're all gone, who's going to fix our pipes?

F_M I should have never left the flower store. I should never have taken this job.

F Calm down, for heaven's sake. You haven't worked at a flower shop in five years!

M Have you got roses? Oh, yes, long stem or short stem. Short stem, please. And would you like some greenery with that.

F Snap out of it! It's just another day on the job!

M_EF This place has gone to the dogs since that Boyle girl left.

F_DH Oh, she broke his heart, she did.

M_EF It's worse than that. I think she was checking his calculations.

F_DH And now they won't even let her in. Oh dear. No wonder things keep exploding.

And a bunch of stuff that didn't fit neatly into the above.

The fog smells ... sort of sweet. It's not cyanide, is it?

Cyanide smells like almonds. It's probably nitrous oxide. I'd still stay out of it. Unless you need dental work!

Righto. ...Who are you, again?

I'm Reg.

Reg! Of course! I didn't recognize you.

The dimethylamino-phenylpropanol has turned into a salt!

Yes, that's normal. We isolate it as an oxalate salt.

No wonder there was an explosion! At 57 Celsius, motilene's practically itching to burst into flames!

Stop it! Just stop it! you're driving me out of my mind!

The flunitrazepam seems to be ... on fire.

05 There's a fire extinguisher in the office.

F I'm sure Dr. Verloc will come up with a better formula!

F Stop it! Just stop it! you're driving me out of my mind!

F_MS You don't work here, do you? SPY! SPY!

F_3 Oh. That's all right then.

F_6 Right! Forgot about that.

F_M Who the hell are you? INTRUDER! INTRUDER!

F_MS You don't work here, do you? SPY! SPY!

M Who the hell are you? INTRUDER! INTRUDER!

M You're an imposter. SPY! SPY!

M It's not! It's not! They've changed the formulas! The new ones have never worked. And now they're exploding.

PC Well, that'll make it easier to bottle, then, won't it?

PC Oh, Christ, where are the gas masks!

PC Ah. The good doctor left his keycard. I can get into his storage room now.

PC Heavens! Hit the alarm!

Stubbs I do not drink alcohol, nor should you attempt to induce a constable to be derelict in his duty!

Stubbs is the white bobby, by the way, for the all the apparent Stubbs/Verloc shippers out there. You could try to bribe him at a point based on this line, but he would be immune to your bullshit.

Anyway, the reason I went looking for these in the first place is because every time I play this game for someone, they get hung up on the part of the cutscene by Verloc says to do whatever they did the last time and then says that no one should know that.

Which I still don't know what it is that no one should know, but if they had kept the information checkpoint part of the gameplay, then it would have created a cool narrative twist where you had to look around for clues and information in the factory all the way up so you would know what you were talking about and not arouse suspicion, only to know too much when you get to Verloc's white bobby.

I also think that more gameplay like this would have been helpful in teaching the player how to examine the world more deeply. There's not really many quests where the information you need in is the world rather than told or given to you, but the game does use environmental storytelling a lot to enrich the narrative, only to have a lot of players not even knowing to look.

[droctaviolovecraft]

TW: Extremely disgusting anomaly, demoniac themes, innuendo of sex, detailed vermin description and infection, gore/violence, gore drawing

ANM-688-1 Instance:

"Would humanity's destiny be to be consumed by flies? Having their bodies infested and controlled?"

Identification: The Queen of Flies

Responsible Researcher: The Eleven Counselors

ANM #: ANM-688-XK

Class: Pre-Apocalypse 💀 | Partially Contained ➖️

Type: Insectoid, Historical, Parasitic, Multi-Anomalous

Degree of Unhealthiness: 120%

Damage Type: Manipulative, physical, mental, continental

Confinement: ANM-688-XK must be contained in a climate-controlled containment chamber of at least 20 meters by 20 meters in the Deep Dark Chamber. The temperature must be maintained below -20°C (-4°F) to prevent the hatching and proliferation of ANM-688-1. The walls must be reinforced with fly-proof barriers and sealed airtight. Any breaches in containment must be reported immediately, with security protocols enacted to prevent escape.

Personnel entering the containment area must be equipped with full-body hermetic suits and are subject to decontamination procedures both before and after entry. Should any personnel exhibit signs of infestation, they are to be isolated and terminated before further spread occurs. Specimens of ANM-688-1 are only to be studied in labs equipped with the same cold containment, and no experimentation involving ANM-688-Ω is to be conducted without prior Eleven Counselors approval.

Infested individuals (ANM-688-2) found outside containment must be neutralized and incinerated immediately to prevent widespread contamination. No organic material should be kept inside the containment complex, the fly colony should not be fed, in case the populatorious of ANM-688-1 instances exceeds the limit, the flamethrowers installed inside the chamber should be activated.

Description: Scientifically denominated "Necrosarchia sanguina" (Condessa's Flesh Fly). ANM-688-XK is a parasitic phenomenon involving a swarm of carnivorous black flies and larvae (designated ANM-688-1) that infest human hosts, leading to grotesque necrosis, parasitic control, and eventual death. The primary vector of infestation is through contact with ANM-688-1, which rapidly reproduces upon exposure to human skin, entering the host's orifices, open wounds, or pores. Once inside the host body, ANM-688-1 larvae begin feeding on tissue, laying eggs deep within muscles and internal organs.

Victims (classified as ANM-688-2) are conscious throughout the entirety of the infestation process. The first stage involves larvae burrowing under the skin, causing severe pain and visual discomfort as they writhe and tunnel through the flesh. This stage is marked by rapid necrosis, with tissue blackening and peeling away as larvae devour both living and dead cells. Victims remain aware and horrified as they observe their bodies decaying in real-time, with the most visible signs being the collapse of facial features and the putrid smell of rotting flesh.

The second stage of the infestation manifests when ANM-688-1 larvae mature into adult flies inside the body of ANM-688-2, primarily nesting within the mouth, eyes, and other orifices. At this point, the host’s movements become erratic and involuntary, as the nervous system is slowly overridden by parasitic control. Victims describe a visceral sensation of being "puppeteered" by the swarm within them, their limbs moving against their will.

The ANM-688-1 larvae resemble grotesque, swollen versions of typical parasitic larvae, similar in appearance to botfly larvae but with more disturbing features due to their supernatural nature.

The larvae are bloated, segmented, and have a glossy red-brown exterior, often looking engorged with blood or fluids. The texture of the larval body appears fleshy and slightly translucent, with the internal development of parasitic fly offspring visible beneath the skin. The spiracles at the rear end are large and distinct, enabling respiration even when deeply embedded in host tissue. On average, the larvae measure 4-6 cm in length, though they may swell significantly as they feed and mature. Their surface is smooth and almost rubbery, glistening with a natural coating of enzymes that aid in the decomposition of human tissue.

These larvae burrow into the flesh of their hosts, primarily targeting soft tissues such as muscle and fat. They release a combination of necrotizing agents and neurotoxins that break down tissue while keeping the host alive and mobile. The larvae feed continuously, creating large, ulcerated wounds as they grow.

As the larvae feed, they produce offspring within their own bodies, a process visible through their translucent skin. This "internal parasitism" allows them to burst open upon maturation, releasing newly hatched larvae into the host’s body or surrounding environment. This secondary generation is immediately capable of continuing the infestation cycle.

Upon maturing, the larvae of ANM-688-1 undergo pupation within the decaying host tissue before emerging as grotesque adult flies. These flies bear the hallmarks of their parasitic nature, with several physical deformities that set them apart from normal Diptera.

The adult flies are swollen, their abdomens distended as though filled with parasitic offspring at all times. Their bodies appear unnaturally large, especially in the midsection, with their thin legs struggling to support their weight. Adult flies measure between 2.5-4 cm in length, significantly larger than typical flies, with their swollen appearance giving them a bloated, grotesque form.

Some flies are covered in sparse, bristly hair, while others appear entirely bald, with their glossy exoskeletons exposed. In more extreme cases, the exoskeleton appears translucent and fragile, revealing the mass of parasitic larvae gestating within the adult fly. Their eyes are unnaturally large and dark, almost beetle-like, with a dull shine that seems to track movement in a predatory manner. Their proboscis is long, crooked and needle-like, capable of piercing skin with ease to inject eggs directly into hosts.

The adult flies are often visibly filled with larvae, their engorged abdomens ready to burst with their parasitic offspring. In some cases, the adult flies do not survive long after laying eggs, as the pressure of internal parasitism causes their abdomens to split open, releasing hundreds of larvae directly into the environment.

The adult flies are aggressive and exhibit erratic flying patterns. They are drawn to the scent of blood and decaying tissue and prefer warm, damp environments for breeding. Despite their fragile appearance, they are incredibly resilient, with even severely damaged flies continuing to function until they release their offspring.

The psychological effects during these stages are profound. While ANM-688-2 may attempt to communicate, their speech becomes garbled as flies fill their throats, often forcing them to regurgitate larval masses. Hosts eventually lose the ability to vocalize entirely. Despite losing physical autonomy, the victim's mind remains intact, suffering from the horror of being fully aware as their body is reduced to a rotting husk filled with crawling parasites.

Once the larvae reach a critical number, the host is driven to seek out new humans, violently assaulting others in an effort to infest them through saliva, blood, or direct contact with the writhing mass of larvae erupting from their skin. ANM-688-2, in their final moments of control, often express agonizing fear and revulsion, forced to watch as they spread the plague they can neither halt nor control.

ANM-688-Ω: "Condessa Sangramenta"

ANM-688-Ω, also known as "Countess Sangramenta" or, Elizabeth Báthory, is the entity believed to control and command ANM-688-1. Historical records suggest that ANM-688-Ω is the infamous Hungarian countess, Elizabeth Báthory, notorious for her alleged vampiric tendencies and penchant for bathing in the blood of virgins to retain youth. However, recent discoveries point to a far darker truth.

ANM-688-Ω is thought to have made a pact with the demon Beelzebub, commonly known as the Lord of the Flies, granting her dominion over parasitic flies in exchange for her eternal servitude and the requirement to "mate" with him in a grotesque ritual of flesh and pestilence. This pact has resulted in ANM-688-Ω transformation into a near-immortal entity, described by witnesses as a gaunt woman with pallid skin, covered in boils and constantly surrounded by a swarm of ANM-688-1.

ANM-688-Ω commands the flies as extensions of her own body, able to direct infestations from a distance and communicate telepathically with ANM-688-2. Victims report hearing whispers from her voice, urging them to spread her plague, often followed by an overwhelming compulsion to obey. ANM-688-Ω has demonstrated intelligence, cruelty, and a desire to spread her parasitic kingdom across the globe.

Addendum 688-01: Interview with ANM-688-2

Date: ██/██/20██

Subject: ANM-688-2, formerly General August, an MTF unit commander exposed during a failed containment breach.

Interview Log Transcript:

General August: (voice trembling) "Please… help me. They’re everywhere. Under my skin. I feel them chewing, breeding."

Dr. Öctavio: "Describe what you’re experiencing, August. It’s important we understand."

General August: "I can hear her… in my head. Sangramenta—she’s always whispering. Telling me… to give in, to let them take me. I’m fighting, but it’s so hard. My hands—look! Look what they’ve done to me!"

(At this point, General August lifts his shirt, revealing festering boils and wriggling larvae beneath the surface of his skin. His body is covered in open sores, through which ANM-688-1 can be seen crawling.)

Dr. Öctavio: "How much control do you still have?"

General August: (sobbing) "None. I can’t stop them. They move me when I don’t want to move. I tried to leave the chamber, but… they wouldn’t let me. They dragged me back. It’s like I’m a passenger… in my own corpse."

Dr. Öctavio: "Do you believe you can still fight her influence?"

General August: (weakly) "It doesn’t matter. She wants you, all of you. The flies… they’ll spread. We are... her kingdom now."

(General August collapses, flies erupting from his eyes and mouth as his body convulses. Medical personnel are called in, but termination is deemed necessary before the infestation can spread further.)

ANM-688-2 by Öctavio Kalev:

Closing Statement: ANM-688-Ω remains an active threat, with containment proving exceedingly difficult due to her ability to communicate and influence from afar. The continued existence of ANM-688-Ω suggests a larger network of parasitic control than originally suspected. Further research is required to understand the extent of her dominion and prevent an apocalyptic spread of ANM-688-1.

Note: Any interaction or experimentation involving ANM-688-Ω is prohibited without the Eleven Counselors clearance. ANM-688 represents an existential threat should it breach containment. Termination options remain under review, though as of now, no known methods have proven effective in neutralizing ANM-688-Ω.

[ahoysailorsteve]

I posted 2,444 times in 2022

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Blogs I reblogged the most:

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#steve and eddie - 120 posts

#st cast - 97 posts

#dustin henderson - 91 posts

#max mayfield - 88 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#i know i mentioned empire before and never went back to fully elaborate but yea the 'traitor' comment is what tipped me towards that theory

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

yall mind if i scream

280 notes - Posted March 23, 2022

#4

goddd when I said I wanted to see steve with a bat again that was NOT what I had in mind

420 notes - Posted May 28, 2022

#3

ummm???

823 notes - Posted July 6, 2022

#2

steve harrington post s2: *has endured intense trauma both physically and emotionally, got dumped in a bathroom after getting called out on his attempts to suppress said trauma instead of dealing with it, definitely needs some therapy or at least a brain scan for the numerous head injuries*

the duffers writing s3 steve:

1,791 notes - Posted May 22, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

s1: the atmosphere in the upside down is toxic, hazmat suits are required to go through the gate, will just barely makes it

s2: spores everywhere, hopper and dustin both inhale them, hopper is fully decontaminated at the lab after being saved from the tunnels because of the toxicity, steve and the kids wear goggles and masks to protect themselves

st4: fuck it, walk walk fashion baby

4,276 notes - Posted May 23, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[molsons112000]

Watch "This $45BN Megaproject Will Forever Change Paris" on YouTube

So all these construction companies that remove Earth can use a conveyor belt as they move the material through.They can remove any pollutants from the material as it passes through these lasers.

You can also create drones or a vehicle like a zamboni. But this goes over soil and underneath.It has numerous lasers that hit the soil to decontaminate the soil of pollution.

So any building site that they're doing.They can remove the contaminants from the soil that they remove and they can also purify the soil around the construction site. So yes, the soil that is removed is purified of all plumes, but the remaining soil that created the wall of the dig they can purify. Also, with these tunnel boring machines. They can have above it lasers that after it. Removes the soil the lasers outside of it purify the soil before they put on the panels. So literally the tunnel boarding machine will purify the soil.It removes and it will purify the soil around the tunnel boring machine before the panels are placed on. So literally it's purifying the Earth. It means they don't have to worry about pollution leaching in to the tunnels. Because this is one thing they don't address is the environmental toxin of the soil that surrounds the tunnels. It's especially a place like Paris, France and all of Europe, where there's been unbelievable amounts of continuous war. And also , the population of the united states is fairly new in comparison

upi.com

https://www.upi.com › 2017/08/29

Lasers inspire new soil detox technique - UPI.com

Aug 29, 2017 — Researchers have developed a new technique for ridding soil of pollutants: blasting the dirt with lasers.

Missing: incinerate ‎| Show results with: incinerate

DiVA portal

https://www.diva-portal.org › ...PDF

Disposal of Toxic and Non-Toxic Waste through Lasers

by A Islam · 2013 — The original idea was to use solar pumped lasers to destroy toxic and non-toxic waste materials. Solid, liquid and gas toxic materials listed were supplied by ...

228 pages·3 MB

So there's been modern warfare in Europe for the last 40,000 years. So there's unbelievable amount of environmental pollution.

About 40,000 years ago

Modern humans supplanted the scanty Neanderthal population in Europe about 40,000 years ago, and by the beginning of the 2nd millennium bce the general population groups that would become the historical peoples and countries of Europe were in place.

Physical geography and history …

www.britannica.com/summary/Europe

[industrial-air-solutions-cbe]

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[nscbetterbuilt]

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[syoncare]

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[industrial-air-solutions-cbe]

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[too-many-blorbos]

Okay I went a bit crazy with this:

First of all, these gals definitely weren't wearing those dresses when they were caught. That is not tunnel-trekking gear.

Which makes sense. This is the CENTRAL BRAIN, the most precious part of the mindflayer colony, so precious that canonically only the most skilled slaves are allowed to tend it. There's no way they let you just wear your grungy tunnel-trekking clothes for that. There is a DRESS CODE, there are HYGIENE STANDARDS.

For Drizzt especially- he's been living in the wilderness for the last several months. You can't tell me they didn't put this dirty feral child through a hazmat-level decontamination routine before letting him near the God-Brain.

Continuing on that train of thought, a people as precise and logical as the mindflayers aren't going to give the brain-masseuses sultry lowcut dresses to wear. They'd dress them for practicality: freedom of movement, sanitation, and ease of cleaning.

Behold: a PROPER brain masseuse uniform!

THIS is what Drizzt should have been wearing as they fled the city. THIS is what we'd have if the comic artists weren't COWARDS.

In the "Exile" graphic novel, there were some... stylistic choices made, particularly in the Central Brain scene--

And I just wanna say that this is unfair. Drizzt should have been given a sexy harem outfit like the other drow masseuses. It makes sense!! Mindflayers would objectify all their slaves equally!!!

[theladyregret]

Wow, I...vastly underestimated how much you guys would vibe with the whole The Walking Dead in Space thing lol ok well...now that I have a day off from work here's some of the ideas I've been thinking about while bored this week.

----------

Human Diplomat: Hey, is there a reason all the water access areas don't allow humans anymore? Don't you guys know we have high water requirements?

Alien Space Station technician: Oh! No one told you?

Human: Told us what?

Alien: Sorry, they were supposed to tell you. Our apologizes, this must look terrible.

Human: Tell. Us. What?

Alien: Our bio filters detected the disease you all carry in the stations water supply after you visited last. Our scientists ran some tests and found that it can survive almost indefinitely in water and is highly resistant to our water treatments. We had to purge and decontaminate the entire system. We created a separate system for your use that is more isolated. You can use those....I....uh...are you ok? Is this sufficient?

Human, frantically writing in a log book: Oh? Yes, fine...that's fine!

Second human: I think you guys just solved a centuries old mystery for us.

Alien, looking confused: What mystery?

Second human: How our species all became infected so quickly.

Alien: You never found out?

Human: It wiped out 99% of our population during the initial outbreak...the how and why of it kind of stopped mattering after a bit, you know?

---------

Galactic News Reporter: Tragedy today after the recent excavation of the lost human mining crew in sector 92. Against human recommendations, rescuers continued their efforts throughout the week. The human deceased, commonly referred to as Walkers, attacked and killed several rescue parties before the site had to be bombed by air support military. Diplomats from several species met once again today to discuss the risks of open contact with the Humans and whether stricter protocols need to be put in place.

Video feed cuts to a human diplomat standing in a room full of multiple different aliens: We told you what to do! You didn't listen! You never listen to us! If you had, none of this would have happened!

Alien Politician: You recommended that the tunnels be collapsed before any excavation be conducted prior to the time frame denoted by safety regulations which would have condemned any potential survivors-

Human, hitting the table in front of him with his fists: YOU'RE STILL NOT LISTENING!

--------

Transport ship pilot over PA system: Our ship is currently on approach to the Human home planet of Terra. Be aware that we will be passing through the debris field left over from the Human Colony Wars which will require us to drop out of FTL. Our ship is specially equipped for this journey so rest assured we are in no danger from the debris. It is recommended that any windows be shielded for the duration of this time, thank you.

Human passenger pulls the shade down for their window with a sigh.

The alien next to them looks curious: Why do the windows need to be covered?

Human: Some people find the...debris...disturbing. *the way they said debris sounded sarcastic*

Alien: ...humans find broken ships disturbing?

Human: You didn't do very much research before coming here did you?

Alien just looks confused.

Human reaches over and opens the window cover. They pass close by one of the wrecked ships and at first it looks like any other debris field...then something moves and they realize it's a body. A human body floating in space. It jerks and twists as they pass by. Mouth opening and closing. The alien jerks back in surprise.

Human: The vacuum of space means they don't decompose so...all those people who didn't die properly...they're just out there...like that. Thousands of soldiers. Ships just full of Walkers.

They pass by another ship. This one looks intact and newer.

Alien: That's not human...

Human: Pirates...scavengers. Sometimes they try to come in and take metal from the ships...but...without the proper shielding.

They pass to the other side and there's a hole torn into the side of the ship.

Human: Just another corpse in a field of corpses. Food for the dead.

Alien looking horrified: Why not clean it out?

Human: Why take the risk? Besides...it keeps out the unwanted.

They pass by the corpse of an alien floating in space that still has a walker clinging to it, idly chewing on what still has flesh attached to it. This walker looks more decayed then the other one had. The alien looks like they might be sick so the human shuts the shade again. They don't talk the rest of the way.

[alzhul]

There was no opportunity to lose a trail like this - short of a back-up plan he hadn't made. But there was no hired hand in the wings to take a shot, and he hadn't expected... someone, something to have woke Ra's from his state. He'd planned to lead the bats on a merry dance around the city, killing time. But he'd run out of options, and this is really what a contingency hostage was about.

So Altair didn't try to lose them. Instead he went straight for the nearest entrance to the Well of Sins beneath Alleytown. The tunnels emptied quickly into the broad Lazarus Lake, artificially fed, an immense hollowed threat beneath the eastern boroughs.

"That way," Altair pointed out the forked path to where Batman was being held. They could deal with whatever Shadows lurked there. The Joker too. That was a loss he was cutting. "You'll find Batman in the containment and decontamination cell."

And he didn't have time to learn if he was still being followed. All he had was the panicked thud of his heart, the remembered scratch of Ra's al Ghul's thoughts and the need to make sure he remained in control of these pieces. So he went the other way, back to the dark room where Ra's al Ghul lay bound and comatose to his hospital bed.

@shh-its-cass @redrobinfr

As Cass and Altair sprint off, Tim rides his own motorbike on a familiar path, driving slowly to not spill the drinks in the added cupholder. He arrives at an apartment, and heads up the stairs, before coming to the right door and knocking.

"I have your coffee."

@gothamsfavmanwhore

[thelordofdarkreunion]

The Worst Planet in the Universe

The “humans are weird/earth is space Australia” stories that are quite famous here usually have aliens reacting to how they think humanity or Earth is really strange and bizarre.  So, I got an idea: what if people could react not to Earth, but to one of the singular worst planets in all of science fiction?  Here, we have some of the characters of the Magnificent Scoundrels reacting to the planet of Krieg and its infamous Death Korps from Warhammer 40k.  

Death Korps is pronounced “death core” not “death corpse.”   Jeicher is pronounced the German way, as “yay-cur”, not “jai-cher.”  

“In life, war.  In death, peace.  In life, suffering.  In death, atonement.”  -Final litany of the Litany of Sacrifice, recited by the Guardsmen of the Death Korps of Krieg when entering battle

The shuttle slipped through the dead and polluted atmosphere, shields raised to their fullest capacity to avoid the boiling streaks of orange lightning.  The occupants of the shuttle stared warily out the window, still nervous even though their craft was in the hands of some of the best pilots in the universe.  

“I still don’t understand why we’re here,” said Commissar Cain from a strapped-in seat in the shuttle’s rear.  

“Well, we’re visiting planets from each other’s galaxies,” replied Admiral Vir from the cockpit as he and Solo desperately tried to avoid the lighting.  

“Yeah, I know that,” snapped back Cain.  “What I don’t understand is why we’re here.  Out of all the planets in the galaxy, you pick this one.”  

“You wanted to know more about populous Imperial Guard regiment homeworlds, and you said Krieg sounded like an interesting name,” muttered Solo as a particularly large blast lit up the cockpit window.  “Starting to regret that now?”

“I most certainly am!” screamed Dr. Kril from inside the heavy clear plastic compartment designed to hold him when accompanying Vir off the Omen.  “And I thought Earth was a death world!”  

“Radiation levels are approaching 3,700 roentgan,” said Vir, crisply reading off the cockpit instruments.  

“We’re all gonna die,” wailed Kril.  

The shuttle’s communication system crackled to life, and a dry, toneless voice sounded over it. 

“Shuttle B-77401, you are clear of the storm in twenty seconds.  Please proceed to landing pad RT-556 at coordinates 66579.  Radiation levels on ground are currently 1,500 roentgan.”  

“I remember reading up on your horrible human disasters, and that’s the level of radiation the Chernobyl disaster had right next to the plant as the fires were still going!” screeched Kril.  “I will not be stepping foot on this planet!  If you have a death wish, that's fine with me, but I won’t be leaving the shuttle!”  He crossed his arms and sat against the container wall.  Vir and Solo didn’t have time to respond.

“Breaking storm now.”  The lightning and horrible, swirling grey clouds cleared, only to reveal a scene of utter devastation.  The land below was an endless expanse of grey and brown.  Entire swaths of earth were covered with grey dust.  Other areas were endless seas of irradiated mud, with ancient and rusted barbed wire, empty concrete bunkers, and long abandoned and corroded gun emplacements sticking out from the infinite brown.  A few ossified trees, long dead, peeked up in places, the only signs of life, or what was once life, on the planet.  

“What happened here?” murmured Vir.  

“A tale of tragedy, and betrayal,” replied Cain softly.  “Once upon a time, some 1,500 years ago, Krieg was a massive city world.  The ruling oligarchy decided to turn their backs on the Emperor and rebel against the Imperium of Man.  The commander of the loyalist Guard forces decided that if the Imperium couldn’t have the planet, no one would.  But despite the unleashing of a stash of Dark Age nuclear weapons, the people of Krieg survived, and loyalist fought traitor in a five hundred year long war in the trenches of the wastes.”  The shuttle was silent, imagining how horrible such a war would be.  This singular civil war, on this singular planet, eclipsed even the most horrible of fights from most of their home galaxies.  “Eventually, the loyalists won, and rejoined the Imperium.  Ever since, the people of Krieg have fought in the deadliest of Imperial warzones to repent for their ancient betrayal.”  

“Wait, wait, wait.  There are people that live here?  This isn’t just a military base?” asked an incredulous Solo.

“Yes,” replied Cain.  “They live in massive underground cities, safely shielded from the worst of the radiation aboveground.” 

“My god… there aren’t really words to describe that,” said Vir.  

“Shuttle B-77401, you are cleared for landing,” came the voice of the controller.  “Please wear radiation-proof suits.  Commissar Jeicher will be present along with an honor guard to escort you.”   The brown of mud gave way to a large, circular landing pad sunk into Krieg’s dead earth.  The pad led to a set of stairs, travelling down into a set of heavy, sealed double doors, leading even further down into the ruined planet’s crust.  On the pad were two figures, clad in greatcoats and gasmasks, flanked by a double line of soldiers.  Vir and Solo set the shuttle down.  

In the back, Cain had already pulled the hood of a radiation-proof bodysuit over his head, and attached an anachronistic looking gasmask.  Over this, he donned an old and tattered Commissarial cap and greatcoat.  Vir and Solo also donned much more modern-looking gas masks over their bodysuits, and went to the shuttle’s rear as Kril screeched about the dangers of radiation.  With the quick press of a button, they activated the airlock and stepped onto the surface of the ruined planet.  

Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance as they stepped down the shuttle ramp and came face to face with what they presumed to be Commissar Jeicher.  He was wearing the same outfit as Cain, a Commissar’s cap and greatcoat covering his bodysuit and gas mask.  Behind him was a double rank of soldiers, wearing grey greatcoats and gas masks, clutching their las rifles in the ‘present arms’ position.  Next to Jeicher stood another figure, hands clasped neatly behind their back.  This one was dressed in much fancier boots, and wore a cuirassier’s breastplate.  A brown greatcoat was draped over the figure's shoulders, and Vir assumed it to be an officer.  Jeicher reached out to shake each of the trio’s hands in turn.  

“Admiral Vir.  Captain Solo.  Commissar Cain.  A pleasure to have you on Krieg.  I am Commissar Jeicher, and this is Captain Kust,” he said, pointing to the officer behind him.  Kust offered a single, curt nod.  “You wished to have a tour of the planet, and to see it’s capacity for making war.  I can assure you, gentlemen, that Krieg is one of the finest planets in the Imperium in that regard.  I trust you will not be disappointed.”  As he said this, Jeicher led them down the path leading away from the shuttle and towards the underground tunnels.  As they walked, a series of flashes lit up the horizon, followed by the booming of thunder.  Jeicher raised a gloved hand and gestured in the general direction of the noise.

“About twenty kilometers in that direction, we have the artillery and live-fire drills of the soon to be 712th Death Korps Regiment.  It is the be the newest regiment coming into Imperial service, and the thirtieth Death Korps regiment raised this month.  They will soon be shipping out to Warzone Viclius in the Segmentum Pacificus to break a massive ork siege of the Viclius sector.”  They reached the end of the twin lines of troopers.  

“Right shoulder, arms!” yelled Kust, her voice (Vir could tell it was a ‘her’ underneath the mask now) managing to carry through both her mask and Krieg’s stormy atmosphere.  “Left face!”  The Korpsmen spun to face the heavy blast doors in perfect synchronicity.  Jeicher inputted some sort of code, and, with a great creaking and grinding of metal, the doors slid open.  “Forward, march!”  

The group, followed by the honour guard, stepped into a large white room.  As the doors closed behind them, various nozzles sprayed radiation-retardant foam onto them.  The airlock process completed, the heavy set of double doors in front of them opened.  Despite the decontamination, no one took their masks off.

The halls were quite familiar to Vir, but unlike anything he’d seen as a civilization.  They were long, emotionless white and grey concrete bunker systems, lit by cheap yellow bulbs that still allowed him to see perfectly well.  Endless, emotionless bunker halls.  It saddened him.  What a terrible way to live and grow up.  

Through the long walkways, they passed seemingly thousands of Korpsmen, all wearing grey greatcoats, and staring from behind emotionless gas masks.   They all blurred into one, and Vir was grateful that at least Jeicher, Kust, and their honor guard he could pick out from the crowd.  

They reached another large double blast door, and the two Korpsmen standing guard outside snapped to attention.  The group walked through, only for the three offworlders to stop short.  The entire left half of the hallway was a massive clear window.  Far beneath them, a full division of Death Korps Guardsmen marched through an utterly massive, hangar-sized underground hallway.  It was an endless tide of grey coats and gas masks, the thud of their boots echoing up even past the glass of the observation deck.  Tanks rolled past, along with smaller, two legged armored walkers.  

“That’s the 122nd Siege Army.  Newly formed.  They’re shipping out to the southern part of Segmentum Ultima today,” said Jeicher.  He made another motion, and the group, still followed by Kust and her honor guard, left the observation room.  

They walked through more hallways, still stark and emotionless, until they got to another double door.  This area of tunnels and bunkers seemed to have more Korpsmen around.  Officers, wearing their higher, more polished boots and cuirassiers’ breastplates.  The double doors opened, revealing a much more polished and refined room, made mostly out of metal.  Computers clung to the walls, and workstations were filled with Death Korps soldiers, red-robed cybernetic tech-priests, and unmasked commissars.  

 “This is the central command room of this section of Krieg’s underground cities,” said Jeicher, continuing the tour.  “All the regiments and supplies that are raised and produced in section Alpha-Gamma-551 are tracked here.  As you can see, we have more than enough to outfit the two regiments this sector is raising.”  They went through the room, through another series of hallways, and down multiple sets of solid but plain corrugated steel stairs.  

“Here we have the underground munitions factories of Krieg,” said Jeicher, gesturing through another glass panel on an observation deck.  This time, the windows led onto an utterly massive factory floor.  Conveyor belts led to unknown machines, and churned out endless numbers of what seemed to be artillery shells.  “As you can see, everything is completely on schedule.”  Vir noticed workers, all wearing heavy grey suits and gas masks below.  Some of them seemed to be… off, and it took a moment for him to realize precisely why. 

“Wait a minute… are those children?” he wheeled around and demanded at Jeicher.  He was met with the empty lenses of a gas mask.

“Yes,” replied Jeicher.  “I do realize that many off-worlders not of the Munitorum or Mechanicus find the practice… distasteful, but-”

“Distasteful doesn’t even begin to cover it.  More like abhorrent,” snarled Vir.  

“If you cannot fight, you must serve,” intoned Kust.  “All infertile males serve in the Death Korps.  Most fertile males and infertile females serve in the Death Korps.  Most fertile females and some fertile males serve in the munitions factories.  Children cannot go to waste,” she finished, rattling off the practices of Krieg in a completely toneless voice.  Vir looked like he was about to explode.  Cain put a hand on his shoulder, and nodded towards the honor guard and their las guns.  Noticing the mood in the room, Jeicher went on.

“I think it’s best if we go on,” he said.  The group followed him through another set of hallways, and when Kust was out of earshot, Jeicher spoke to the trio of newcomers.  

“Please don’t antagonize the Kriegers,” he said.  “That’s why they have commissars, actually.  To ease the transition between them and any allied forces.” “They deserve to die,” hissed Vir, still shaking with rage.  Jeicher gave a mirthless laugh.

“Oh, they do.  Their entire purpose, their entire existence, is to die in the Emperor’s wars.  They want this.”

“Why?” asked Solo.  “Why would anyone want this?”

“They are driven by one of the most powerful motivators in the world.  Not anger, not love, not faith, but shame.  Shame of their ancient rebellion.  In the Emperor’s service, the Death Korps will pay any price.”  

The group reached another viewing balcony.  This one overlooked a much smaller room, where a group of children in grey overcoats drilled with small las carbines.  Vir clenched his fist in rage, but said nothing.  

“Present arms!” yelled an adult and fully uniformed drill sergeant from behind his gas mask.  The children held out their weapons in front of them, many with as much or even more precision than Vir had seen of new GA marine recruits.  Most of them looked to be no older than six or seven, making the workers in the factory even younger… 

No.  He did not want to think about that.  

The drill instructor moved along the line of recruits (or children, if you were fortunate enough to not be raised in a post-apocalyptic militaristic hellhole, thought Vir.)  The instructor spun and glared at one of the cadets.  

“P-44271930,” he stated.

“Yes, sir!” replied the cadet, with the enthusiasm of a fresh recruit.

“What is your duty, P-44271930?” asked the instructor.  

“To serve the Emperor’s will,” replied the cadet.

“And what is the Emperor’s will?” queried the instructor.

“That we fight and die!”  Vir clenched down so hard he crushed the balcony bar in the viewing room.

“What is death?” asked the instructor.

“It is our duty!” replied the cadet.  The instructor nodded.  

“Very good, P-44271930.”  He took a step back.  “Right shoulder, arms!”  Vir looked at Jeicher.

“They’re calling them by their serial numbers at that young of an age?” he asked, still fuming.  Jeicher inwardly cringed.  He suspected the esteemed Admiral would not like what came next.  

“They don’t have names,” said Kust, with the subtlety of a sledgehammer.  

“What?” asked Vir, in a ‘please, do try my patience’ tone.  

“None of us have names,” replied Kust.  

“You have a name,” pointed out Vir. 

“You only get a name if you survive long enough to become an officer,” replied Kust.  

“Really?”  Vir wheeled around to face the leader of the honor guard.  “What’s your name?” he asked.

“YH-5577933,” replied the man, in a completely emotionless voice.  Vir threw his hands in the air, completely done.

“Fine.”  He nodded at Jeicher.  “Continue the tour,” he snapped.  Jeicher nodded, and motioned them on.  I have to get off this place as soon as possible, thought Vir.  This is… beyond anything I thought possible.

I hope you enjoyed it.  I find Krieg and the Death Korps are one of the most interesting groups in science fiction.  Motivated by shame, they represent the worst humanity could ever become.  However, they are utter badasses in battle.  If you aren’t afraid to die, you can pull of some pretty heroic things.  If you have any questions, comments, criticisms, concerns, requests, or want me to continue this story, please tell me!  Have a great day!

It should be noted, of course, I do not own any of these characters.  Vir and Kril belong to starr-fall-knight-rise, Cain belongs to Games Workshop, and Solo belongs to Disney.

[iamthekaijuking]

Some guardian society biotech

I thought I’d write up some biotech, specifically vehicles. Props to my best bud @dappercritter for coming up with names for all these, save for the Lithodon, which was thought up by discord user Lavabender.

English name: Centirail

The primary method of transportation for non-guardians, these biotechs perform a role much like those of trains on earth. Centirail are made up of two different biotechs, which are actually just opposite phenotypes of each other. The leading car and the passenger car. Passenger cars are hollow and have many resting places for citizens and have sphincter doors for people to come and go. Leading cars act as directors and brains and are attached at the front and ends of a Centirail collection. They tell the whole colony where to go. They also have a compartment for a technician to reside, who keeps an eye on the vitals of the colony and makes sure the leading car’s mental map is up to date via panels. All cars can link up and share a duel parallel nervous system, and sphincter doors on the fronts and backs allow for travel between cars. They run on blunt centipede-like legs from stop to stop through designated tunnels protected by plasma forcefields. An electrical current runs through the ground they swiftly scuttle on, and feeds them. The subway tubes they run through are everywhere in the guardian society.

English name: Shuttler

The Shuttler is a planetary exploration type biotech. Roughly the length of a bus, it walks on six legs. Each leg is tipped with primary claws, traction denticles on the underside, and hyperextended fingers with sickle claws for gripping. They can be outfitted with wheel zooids as well. The cockpit is an organ called a Rose Ganglia, which is what all piloted biotech have. The Rose Ganglia is a highly damage resistant organ that opens up to reveal a bed of tendrils. These secure a pilot in place and link up with their nervous system, thus allowing the biotech to be controlled. Multiple eyes along the Shuttler allows for 360 degree vision. A sphincter door with a tongue ramp leads to an airlock/decontamination chamber, which then leads to the insides. Inside is a main compartment that can be outfitted with materials and biotech an expedition crew needs, which leads to a bathroom for hygiene and toiletries (waste is consumed by the biotech), the cockpit, and the rear compartment storage shell.

English name: Excabrach

The excabrach is a construction type biotech that works much like earth excavators. It crawls along on two scaled muscle beds similar to gastropod feet and has one or multiple Rose Ganglia in the back. The front of the Excabrach has two large compound eyes and a large arm for excavation. Unlike the excavators of earth with their inefficient two arm joints, the arm of an Excabrach has a vertebrae-like internal skeleton powered by both normal and hydraulic muscles, giving it immense power and flexibility. Most Excabraches have a maw at the end of the arm for scooping up substrate with small legs inside to direct ruble into a gular pouch running along the underside of the arm to increase loads, which can be ejected. Body parts are modular and can be swapped out, and many models exist. From small models much like compact excavators, to absolute behemoths surpassing bucket wheel excavators such as badger 258 that require multiple pilots.

English name: Lithodon

More robust but less precise than Excabraches, the Lithodon is an excavation unit that shovels and plows substrate with its massive biomineralized maw. The Lithodon resembles a massive frog with erect limbs and a massive underbite. A Rose Ganglia sits on the hips, and toothy spinning zooids as tough as diamond line the tip/leading edge of the mandibles to drill away at tougher materials and direct substrate into its maw. It shovels detritus with its clawed hands out of the way and scoops several tons of substrate into its mouth and gular pouch that takes up half of its body. Ventral Pleats allows the skin to stretch. Like with the Excabrach, many models of various sizes exist.