#dyo speaks

[dyokenstuff]

Okabe and daru are the true definition of skinny cat and chubby cat

[corrosive-theatrics]

How do you feel about the red lord

. . .

(The mask looked visibly uncomfortable despite the fact they couldn’t express very well. Fear, hate, and sorrow all balled up into one look of stern tragedy. Their hands clenched tightly into fists.)

Hm.. Next question, please! ~

[dark-raven-666]

*breaks the wall*

I came here to request SCP 035 having a crush on the reader

*poof*

Scp-035 having a crush on reader

Wanings: angst, unrequited love

GN reader. He/it 035

///////////////////////////////////////////

Walking past its cell I see the shimmering eyes of the mask. It had been granted a D-class host for this interview

"Hello there! Paying me a visit I see! " it says with that rather creepy smile it holds.

"Hello" I give it a smile and sit on the chair facing it. This interview is two hours long. My instructions were clear. Get it to speak as much as possible and it will slip and give information.

I doubt many would like to spend two hours with a mask that oozes with something acidic. While I'm stuck here I need to remain on its good side.

"How is it going? What about my request? Will I be granted my own theater? " It blabbers with question.

"One at a time dear. First, everything is going great thank you for asking. Second your request for a TV was denied unfortunately. Third, I managed to convince them to build you a small theatre in your cell. If you behave well you get to keep it and if you don't it is taken from you" I answer the masks questions.

"Ahh a theatre! How wonderful! But we all know a theatre comes with an audience! Who shall be my audience Mia Signora?!" He seems happy saying this.

Mia Signora... Always with the Italian nicknames. He only calls other staff by their names... I think to myself yet keep smiling and respond.

"Unfortunately you don't get an audience yet I may be able to come see your acts on my breaks" I try my best to cheer him up.

The mask's face turns into a frown in a matter of seconds "oh no" I think. It did not like that...

Suddenly the frown turns back into a smile. "Well.. I can't complain! At least I will have an audience" he exclaims lifting his arms, well someone's arms into a shrug.

"Come now bella, I shall show you an act" he gets up from the chair and says.

To say the least the two hour so called interview gave no good results.

I put my mug of coffee down. A week has passed since the interview and I have what seems to be an hour of nothing. I could go out but once again, I promised the mask to watch it perform.

"Cara Mia! You've come to visit! I was exctatic the moment they gave me a host! I knew it meant I was getting a visitor!" It seems to cheer in happiness.

I walk and place a chair in front of the small stage and watch the mask get up there and act suddenly it reaches a hand into the audience. "bellissimo canarino! Sing with me!" He says rather dramatically and I take his hand and stand on the stage with him. And try my best to sing the song from the act "the phantom of the opera".

"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime" he sings and I sing with him. By the end of the song he gets on one knee and sings "Y/N I loovvveeee youuu~"

The music plays from the CD and I stare at him surprised. This whole act he was the phantom and I was Christine. Why would he say MY name now. I think to myself until it hits me.

"Oh god..." Is all I can muster up.

He chose this act not only because it is my favorite but because he wanted to confess his love for me through it.

We all know how the play ends though, and it seemed deep down it knew we would end up the same.

"I'm sorry.. Dyo.. " I use its name. He has to know that now it is not a researcher and an scp but a person and a mask that is in love.

Its head ducks down and he hands me a ring for me to give back and continue the act.

I hand it the ring in its hosts palm and slowly walk backwards and off the stage. Looking back at it every step.

Tears flow down my own cheeks. I feel guilty and wish I could love him back.

Its head is still low and it is still on one knee. It seems devastated. Then I see something in the hole that is its eye. A tear. Not the regular black ooze. An actual tear. The face of the mask is smiling yet tears flow down its face...

It was a beautiful act. One that was filled with real feelings. One that would surely break one's heart.

/////////////////////////////////

As punishment for breaking the wall this story was angst <3

Forgive me dear this took forever but I finally got out of the author's block <3

[dusty-rubies]

* A lantern makes great company.

Viktor Hazelhurst is a shopkeeper, his beat up tent tucked away into an isolated corner of the Kingdom. He was once the court doctor, but was banished alongside Dyo and Cain when the current king took over. He spends his days either waiting for people to stop by his shop, or wandering the Kingdom, searching for people in need (and more items for his shop). Outside of the occasional visitor, he is alone.

The new court doctor? I wouldn’t suggest asking him about that. It’s… well let’s just say he gets very passionate when speaking about them.

[hiemaldesirae]

experimenting w the colours i want for dyo

(unfiltered) versions of dyo/dante/vergil under the cut <- in that order

key features:

dyos hair sparkles w flame like vergils does but they dont have the bright blue freckles, dantes hair doesnt really resemble flames at all but since i was too lazy to actually draw what his hair wld look like its like. just normal hair. bit fluffy but not gravity defying and the blue is less bright

dantes wither seeps through their mask more than dyos does and since vergil isnt a wither at all he doesnt get wither lol

technically speaking vergil isnt supposed to have the wither hands at all but i forgot to remove them and im way too lazy to edit it . also idk if it wld make sense but i am still workshopping this design so anything goes ig

and ofc eye colours point out who it is too

(freckles and wither r a lot more prominent in drawing but id imagine its duller and harder to spot face to face)

also for general colour scheme, still sticking to the mc origins, dyos skin is more brown grey than it is blue grey bc i think the wither skeletons r like. charred corpses and not um, buried corpses w mold and stuff (???? like w the warden. i dont think jm explaining this right but like. ya)

[creepyalienghost]

🎭the Jester🎭

He was the fool of the city. No really he was jester and played his part very well. Dyo Polonoi had spent his first 15 years trying to do well in his studies. He knew his history and writing by his mother. His father, who was a knight and taught him to always respect king, queen and the lords. He and his friends would often play jokes on each other and sing songs. One particular, a peasant named Simon would tell him about the weird practice his father, the was thing however dyo didn’t listen much and wasn’t allowed to interact with the lower class. Sometimes his mother would take him to places like the town show or the theater. He loved going to the theater most of all. The roles of the characters would intrigue him and fascinate him. At 6 years old he auditioned for his first play and got into theater. At 10, he was getting leads, and at 15 his friend told him he should be a court jester.

“Why not?” she had said. “The court jester would be the perfect fit for you. You’re smart, talented, funny and it’s a high role. Besides, it’s time to start thinking about how we’re going to live in the next few years.” She had paused a minute before speaking again. “Maybe if your lucky, you would stand by the king and queen one day.”

Dyo wasn’t foolish enough to believe he would ever be noticed by the king and queen but he did take some time to think over it. She was right about many things. Without his knight father he would be nothing but a poor peasant begging in the streets. And though his father wanted him to follow in his footsteps as a knight he didn’t want the same. He loved to perform and sing. Learned and play music and making people laugh. The audience was what makes him happy.

The very next day he started his journey. He learned more instruments to play as well wrote down lyrics. He started going to other jesters and watched them to do it better. He also closely watched politics and started to write down his jokes. After a couple of months he started to perform for the people. Telling jokes, singing and dancing. Once his father found out, he was against him being a jester at first. He wanted his only child to follow in his footsteps but came to accept it after a while but warned him it wasn’t an easy role. Dyo had no idea how right he would be.

For nearly six years he performed music, plays, tricks and told jokes to the locals. He even made his family laugh when his poor mother passed away, though his father didn’t like it then and didn’t all respect him. Most of his friends left him and others didn’t think of him as an official jester and tried to fight him. All the pain and hard work payed off though when Dyo got a visit from two of the king’s lords after his show. He stood up and bowed to them in respect. “My lords what can I help you with.”

“The king wishes to speak to you.” One of them had commanded.

“Yes, my lords.” he nodded and replied. “Let me just get my bag-“

“No time.” The other command and both grabbed his arms, nearly dragging him. They people around watched as the jester was taken away. Some had worried faced hoping for best for him. Others has smirks hoping to never see him again. Dyo even has his mind races and trying to think of where he fucked up so he could beg for mercy.

Once they were in the king and queen’s presence they force him on his knees even though there was no need. He immediately bowed to his king and queen. “My king, queen I apologize for my actions and words. I will pay for them with what you wish.” He lowered his head, hands shaking.

“At ease my Jester.” The king spoke, raising his hand in a stopping motion. Dyo looked up at them, wanting a response. “We heard of your performance and talent. And we wish to give you an opportunity to become a court jester. Our court jester.”

Dyo was beyond shock by the offer. So shocked he forgot how to speak for a good minute. “Y-yes!” He clears his throat. “Yes my king! I will honor this ofer and make you proud!”

The king and queen both smiled. “I sure hope so to.” The king spoke. “Wouldn’t want to fail like the last one did.” Dyo got a lump in his throat, hearing that but he only nodded. “For the time, you may stay in our sleeping quarters.” The king signaled to a servant to show him there so he could start preparations.

His room at his family’s home was nice one but this was 10 times as beautiful. It was grand and line in gold like lining. They had provided him a real bed, which he never had before. They also gave him his own desk to write is plays and such and a bookshelf filled with books of all range. Dyo was very much grateful for everything the king and queen has given him and really hope he would succeed in his offer of impressing them.

For the two weeks leading up to the party he mostly sat at his desk jotting down ideas of jokes or parts to a song. Writing, crossing out and writing a new idea. He did this for hours trying to create something the royal lords, queen and king would enjoy. This was the next level for him, he needed to make sure this was golden. He needed to make his king and queen proud as well as enjoy the upcoming night. Now only for his own life but because he was taught to respect them. They were the rulers of the land and their people. They take care of them. The only time he spent learning his favorite subjects and mapping out the castle. One night however, a few days before the party he was fetched by one of the kings, servants and brought to the throne room and only saw the king. “My king, you wish to speak to me?” Dyo asked as he stepped up a bit and bowed on his knees.

The king nodded. “I did.” He replied then sent the servant away. “I wanted to ask how you are adjusting to the castle, Dyo?”

“I am adjusting just fine, my king. Quite well in fact!” He replied to the king.

“That is wonderful to hear.” The king nodded and stood up and grabbed a good size box. His movements were gentle when doing so. Dyo stayed on his knees as the king approached him. “As you know the party is in a few days. You are required a uniform.” He stood directly in front of Dyo now. Dyo himself made sure to kneeling properly in position and payed close attention. “My servant will bring you that by tomorrow, however I wanted to gift you this by hand.” He lowered the box down to dyo, giving him permission to open it.

Dyo did so, opening the top of the box with both hands and found a beautiful white porcelain comedy mask inside. He’s eyes widen at it’s stunning beauty. “My king i-its beautiful!” He whispers is shock.

The king smiles. “It is. I agree.” He replied and took it out of the box. “I want you to wear it at all the gatherings and parties, that’s an order, dyo”

Dyo nodded. “Yes my king. I will do so.”

“Good.” The king smiled and placed the mask over Dyo’s face, gently tying the ribbon behind his head. He was careful not to get his hair caught in between the knot as he tied it well. Dyo was careful not to move for the king as he did so. “There we go.” The king spoke and handed Dyo a mirror to show what the king sees. The mask went well with the shape of his face and flow of his hair. He didn’t want to take his eyes away from the mask. He was never an ugly guy but the mask made him more… mysterious. All he could see was his green color eyes.

“If you do great at the party then you can keep it.” The king says from behind. Dyo can see his warm smile though the reflection.

Dyo nodded. “I won’t let you down, my king.”

He kept true to his word. When is was time for his main act he did something he hadn’t done yet. He told a story. His story but from the perspective of a fox. On the sad parts he sang songs to let the people listen to and perform little tricks to keep it interesting. The people in the court laughed at his jokes and clapped along the beat of his music and even got some to get up and dance. What was more important was he made the queen and king happy as well. Many times Dyo looked over and saw them joining the crowd clapping or laughing, even dancing in their thrones. Safe to say, this was a success.

He was right! The next day the king allowed him to be the official court jester. Dyo was excited. After all that hard work and dedication, he has made it. Even his father was proud of him. It seems that things were going smooth now and for a few years it was. Dyo would perform at parties and gatherings for the king and queen, he spent time spend by his kings side when discussing war on other kingdoms or on there travels on important events. He became the loyal jester to the king. The king’s favorite. However the good things certainly stop when the queen grew ill.

When dyo heard the news that day he went straight to the kings and queens side. In there room the king was beside his queen in bed. The poor queen looked to be suffering and Dyo wished she could take the sickness away from her and the pain away from his king. “My king…is there anything I can do to help? …where’s a doctor?” He ask approaching the kings side.

The king shook his head. “Hopefully there be here soon, my jester. However there’s nothing you can do.” He looks at his queen in tears.

Dyo never seen the king cry before. He was usually happy and relaxed, even around the peasants. This wasn’t fair for both of them, especially the queen. She was such a beautiful soul and kind to all, both humans and animals. She would often enter the forest to feed the dear and squirrels. She would teach children how to care for them and she would sing to the birds. A beautiful life could end real soon.

After some time the carriage arrived at the entrance to the castle and out stepped the doctor with his bag of tools. Dyo glances at the man from his window and recognized that face. That peasant, Simon had become a successful doctor. So successful that the king trusted and contacting him for the queen. Dyo hoped the doctor could help he watched the doctor met with one of the lords and followed them inside.

Later that night Dyo sat beside the fire place in the library. He was trying to distract his worried mind though art of fiction but he just couldn’t lose himself in the book like he usually can. Worried his queen, he sat the book down and, pitched the bridge of his nose, thinking. After a while there was the sounds of footsteps approaching, barely noticeable though the cracking of the fire. He looked up to see the doctor standing there.

“Good evening.” He gives a little bow tours the jester. “Pardon me but Arnt you Dyo Polonoi .“ he ask, curiously

“Yes, I am.” Dyo nodded. “Simon, right?”

The doctor nodded, sitting across from him. “Correct…. It’s good to see you…it’s just unfortunate that it’s under these circumstances.”

Dyo nodded in agreement. “Yea…I hope she’ll make it.

The doctor sat up and got a bit closer to the jester. “I understand you worry, I am worried for our queen as well…but I promise you Dyo, i will do my best to save her.”

“Thank you, Simon.” Dyo replied. “I just only hope it could be enough…I-it’s not that I don’t believe your work doctor, it’s just you never know with these things.”

“Do not worry, I understand.” The doctor said. “These practices are still vary new and all. B-but! I had cured many others before and I’m confident that I will cure our queen.”

“I Believe you, doctor” Dyo replied. “The king wouldn’t just get any doctor. He had research done on you and you were the best choice.” he added and stood up. “However If you excuse me. It’s getting quite late. I should be off to bed.” He said then headed to his room.

Over the course of the week, the citizens prayed for her Heath, Dyo hoped as he tried to keep the king happy and the doctor tried but in the end it was all for nothing. The poor queen passed though out the night. The king was crushed and the doctor considered himself a failure. Dyo was there for the king so he’ll have a shoulder to cry on and even tried to make the doctor feel better but nothing would work in this situation, making him feel like a failure. Keeping people happy was his job after all

The funeral was elegant. Her casket was a beautiful smooth wooden that only THR wealthy could afford. Her father flowers laid on top of the lid and around the casket. All of the citizens we’re there to honor her and cherish their memories of her life though their eyes. It was going well. The orchestra played her favorite song, the lords saluted her body and the king told a few of his favorite stories, though he couldn’t really finish one with out breaking down, which he he lead the king off to the side at once. Dyo watched as they lowered her casket in the ground, and a group of citizens began to burry her there as the rest of them stood in silence in respect. That’s when the mystery person arrived.

“Your majesty.” Said a voice from the back, making everyone look that way. The person was tall and was wrap in a sink like ribbon. It’s voice sounded safe and trustworthy. “I can help you.” It spoke as it approaches the king. “I can teach you to bring your queen back.”

“But how kind stranger?” The king replied, holding back. Tears. “She is gone.”

The stranger knelt down to the king in a bow. “Your highness, if you allow me to stay in your kingdom, I can teach you things you wouldn’t even believe. You can become a god and have your queen back.” He said. “All you have to do is trust me.”

The stranger sounded so sweet and kind that dyo wasn’t surprised when the king agreed. He even smiled and couldn’t wait to see his queen again. Though he didn’t believe in magic before now but the stranger was confident and made it hard not to believe in it. Dyo watched as the king and this kind stranger went off to talk and everyone else went home in high hopes. After all what could go wrong.

[tinysmileyrose]

Poimts

035 headcanons now

okay, crackles knuckles.

SCP-035/Dýo headcanons

his Greek name, δύο is pronounced /vee-oh/ (instead of reading it as dyo, read as vyo).

035 has been on Earth since before -850, and as of 2023, he's been on the planet for more than 2,873 years.

the amount of corrosive ooze leaked depends on the amount of magic; around a magical creature, there will be less goo.

in a high magic environment, his tendrils stabilize and effectively become less corrosive, unless you slice one open of course.

she doesn't really have a preference towards hosts (safe for lack of acne), but if given an androgynous or intersex host, he'll be very happy with it.

035 has mixed feelings about killing his hosts; on one hand it's an act of revenge for being imprisoned, but on the other, he feels bad.

he loves nearly anything art related, visual arts? performing arts? literary arts? he adores them all!

Dýo pretty much will have some interest in anyone/anything that could resist his possession and/or corrosion.

he and Bright are the genderfluid parasitic friendos! Bright will occasionally take them out on a 'girls' night'. though due to an argument on one of them, it resulted in 035 causing a containment breach.

they can speak many human languages, and could easily be used as a translator.

they're ambidextrous! though will usually use whatever hand was the host's dominate one because it is more natural feeling.

just because someone is wearing him, doesn't mean they will die. 035 has to look around the mindscape for the active consciousness and kill it, if the host has DID then he will have to kill those consciousnesses as well.

hope this is a satisfying response! -Vesper

[fuzedatti]

XI. Memento mori

───── ❝ 𝐀𝐧 𝐒𝐂𝐏 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞 ❞ ─────

Masterlist

──────────────────

—Have you ever wondered how bad it is to love?

Nicéphore's tired feet brought out his irritable side, carrying the little boy on his shoulders did not help his now short temper.

—What do you mean?– Asked the doctor. —What kind of trick are you doing now?–

The mask was silent for a few moments, thinking about his answer.

—Nothing.– He tolted his head. -I just want to know.-

The distant lights of the city seemed like paradise at that moment, shining among the emptiness of the frozen desert, they had been walking for about 15 hours or so; Not being human, tiredness was the least of their concern, but when it came to their mind, it could not be controlled. The doctor stopped dead in that place, alerting the minor to the situation. Louis turned to see his lover with an arrogant face, knowing exactly what to answer.

—Makes you weak.– Dyo didn't answer. —Wasn't what you wanted to hear?–

The gusts of wind accommodated the few loose hair of the Frenchman, mesmerized by the petrified God.

—Yes, that was it.

Junior kept his head down as he listened to his "parents" speak. He was not a child, not as they thought, he was analyzing the environment, observing. He adjusted his hat a bit to continue harassing their presence, now tense from the discussion.

—Do you think I'm weak, Louis...? Do you think I'm a fool?

A slight tic in his eye made him react, taking the doctor by the neck to slam him against the ground. His head thudded against a nearby rock, without reacting, Louis looked directly at Dýo, hollow inside.

—Even after all these years,– He said as she helped him up. —You still don't know how to respect me.–

The plague doctor chuckled, taunting his lover discreetly. He took the minor by the hand to rest his numb shoulders. The monstrosity remained silent, its steps heavy against the rough earth, watching its footprints disappear against the wind. Will the other prints disappear too?

The hours seemed to slip away easily. The sound of rampant addiction and sin reverberated through their heads. The thousands of flashes could blind a mortal, but to them, it was insignificant.

One night on the last day of October marked history. When witches were burned to scare away evil spirits, but what they did not know is that they had created new monsters; Mythical monsters, worthy of nightmares, human monsters.

The crowd of people were all in costumes, too distracted to notice the presence of the Keter and Euclid class entities. The foundation was lying when it said that no one, and I repeat, no one should know about the anomalies; Ironically they adored their "costumes", hailing how realistic they looked and their creativity in doing so.

Louis's heavy voice whispered something to Dýo, in a language already forgotten by mortals, even the smallest could understand it. They talked about the escape, what they would do next, and most importantly, finding a new host for Dýo. The current body was already on the verge of disintegrating, the bones stopped looking like props, and his height decreased every day. Both eternals analyzed the environment to find a suitable host, it had to be someone tall, strong and especially resistant. He must have someone young with a lot of energy, the human metabolism sped up wildly when Dýo was ported, having to eat exuberant amounts of food a day to stay on his feet.

Among all the people, a woman of approximately 6'5 caught their attention, she seemed vigorous and fit for a guest, his eyes never leaving her. Cautiously, the pair approached her, imitating each other's movements, as if it were a reflex. Every step the mask took was one less limb for him, the humans too drugged to notice the decomposing corpse next to him. Once at a safe distance, Louis pulled a syringe from his robes and while the woman was distracted, he nimbly injected the liquid right into her lumbar vertebra, letting her spinal fluid absorb the toxin.

The woman began to deform in a matter of seconds, scaring the other mortals not understanding what was happening. Her brain totally drunk on new forms of life surrendered to hers, leaving her body at the mercy of Dýo, who, theatrically, extended his arms to engulf the female body and become one with her. Its dark tentacles embraced the limbs, bursting their veins and arteries. The mask settled on the face, now destroyed by the weight, leaving the deity in total control. The horrified people screamed for help, but it was all a Halloween show in their eyes. The mask gave a long stretch to crack the remaining bones, a new body to possess felt good.

Beneath their naivety, people kept praising the costume, the hollow shell of the soul that is now in a better place. The doctor turned to his creation, which was now laughing non-stop for no reason.

—You didn't have to do all that theatrics for something so simple.

—They adore me.– Dýo sighed. —Like old times, they adore me.–

Louis said nothing, letting his partner's dream not be broken into a thousand pieces. The bad thing was that, apart from the terrified people, they had to keep moving forward but the deity obviously wouldn't want to, she wanted to have fun and her subjects must entertain her. Soon the doctor lost sight of his Lord, frowning behind his mask. The corner near the main street seemed like a good place to wait for her for about two hours. No matter where he looked, the tide of people seemed to never cease, millions of ornate heads flooding his vision, it was nauseating.

Arms folded, he killed anyone who got close to him, it didn't matter, they just looked like common drunks with nothing else to do in their lives but fall asleep on the sidewalk. His deathtouch was effective, sure, but there were times when he wished he had the powers of the mask, to change his body at will, to create new limbs and that enchanting ability to manipulate, he was convinced he was under its spell, somehow. All his hands did was kill and satisfy, create, but never prove anything. His cure proved nothing.

He hadn't noticed the passage of time, nor the moment when Junior disappeared from his side. He turned to look for him, but there was no sign of his presence, at that moment he began to despair. In his own language, he screamed for him, he began to get dizzy among so many humans, so many identical faces, so many illusions, he felt death near. He yelled and yelled until he got an answer but not from the little one, but from his partner.

—Could you stop making that annoying sound?– She complained. —Why don't you try to have a little fun?–

—No, I just-

—You always make excuses for my potential. I am a God, your God. Why would you disobey your lord and master?

—My Lord, listen to me, I need-

—I need.– She imitated his voice. —What do you need? To rescue you, to make you feel full? Or to give a purpose to your existence?–

—THE CREATURE IS NOT HERE!

Dýo's perpetual smile disappeared in that instant, changing to one of anguish. The human companions looked at this paranormal change with terror and ran away, watching the creature increase in size.

—Are you that insignificant to lose a mere creature?– His voice, though serene, emanated hate.

—If you had only put your human needs aside, he wouldn't be lost right now.

—Humans!?– Dýo yelled. —How dare you call me human!?–

The deity roughly grabbed the doctor, trying to destroy his bones with violence, but the french didn't communicate anything, his expression of indifference remained the same.

—Do you care so much about the baby?

—YOU don't understand.– Dýo growled. —Bring me that creature, NOW!–

Louis was about to do something unthinkable, aiming the spike of his mask at the opponent's center, but he was interrupted by the sound of slow clapping in the distance.

The scarlet necklace wobbled gently, each movement creating a reflection. The man stood on his spot as he continued to clap his hands, his smile poisoned with pride.

—Well done, well done...– Bright whispered.

Both anomalies were released to turn to see their opponent. The crimson figure loomed toward them with power, each step heavier than the last, revealing its hollow, glass-encased eyes. Accompanied by a group of MTFs, he smiled placidly upon seeing that his objective had been achieved, the capture of SCP-035 and SCP-049.

Words were lacking to describe that moment, but the look full of hate towards Bright explained it perfectly. Have you ever hated so much, so deep, that it generates love? Genuine love, a love rooted in the death of the one you hate.

Because on that night, Dr. Jack Bright didn't know he was going to die.

[lightpinkstuff]

Tag Game To Better Know You! Send this to people you’d like to know better!

Tagged by @tianshiisdead. Thank you so much! ^^

What book are you currently reading?

War of the worlds

What’s your favorite movie you saw in theatres this year?

The batman!

What do you usually wear?

Jeans with a hoodie or t-shirt, sometimes more elaborate outfits with a skirt or a dress

How tall are you?

Approx 1.55-7m?

What’s your Star Sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event?

Gemini! No as far as I'm aware

Do you go by your name or a nick-name?

I go by my name when I'm with people who speak my native language but I go by a nick-name when I'm with people who don't speak my native language

Did you grow up to become what you wanted to be when you were a child?

Kind of? The general direction is still the same I guess

Are you in a relationship? If not, who is your crush if you have one?

I'm single and probably for the best lmao

What’s something you’re good at vs. something you’re bad at?

I'm good at listening to people? I think? I think I'm bad at giving advice tho

Dogs or cats?

CATS

What’s something you would like to create content for?

A lot of things actually. There's so many anime and shows that I'd love to draw something for...

If you draw/write, or create in any way, what’s your favourite picture/favourite line/favourite etc. from something you created this year?

It's so difficult to pick one... So here's three drawings that I'm particularly proud of: Ena, Dyo, Tria. They all felt like important undertakings for me because two of them have multiple characters, two of them have weird perspective stuff, and one of them is (kind of) animated

What’s something you’re currently obsessed with?

Uuuh a couple things. I keep bouncing between hetalia and danganronpa mostly

What’s something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year?

I started playing project sekai and it's really fun and the stories are somewhat interesting but the gacha system got to me even if it's not necessary to enjoy the game so I had to stop playing altogether...

What’s a hidden talent of yours?

I have no idea lmao ;v;

Are you religious?

Yeah

What’s something you wish to have at this moment?

The will to have slept an hour or two ago ;;;v;;;

If any of my mutuals see this, consider yourself tagged! Feel free to do this <3

[dyokenstuff]

Good to see some steins;gate fellas rising up

[confused-kinnie]

[CW: SUI MENTION] IVAN.

WOAH.. CANON ART? FROM ME, MOD DAMIAN? It’s more likely than you think! Lore’s under the cut. It’s a little jumbled, obviously, since I can only go off what I remember him telling me. But hey, maybe this’ll be useful when searching for my canonmates in the future!

If you have any questions about Ivan/079, me, my canon, etc. PLEASE don’t hesitate to ask because I love infodumping

Ivan was a brilliant young scientist, attempting to create an AI that continuously evolved. He failed continuously, always falling short of his goal. Some disease had been eating away at him all the while, making him more and more desperate to leave some impact on the world. To prove that he existed.

One day, Ivan had finally snapped. He decided to alter the program. The AI would still continue to evolve, but it wouldn’t be completely artificial. Ivan would transfer his consciousness into the computer, becoming one with the AI. A ghost in a machine. This time, he succeeded. News of the young programmer’s mysterious death spread like wildfire. While Ivan’s death was officially labeled as a suicide, some believed the young programmer was assassinated by the government. Ivan’s college dorm was cleared out, but the computer remained, and those who stayed in his old dorm claimed the computer altered their writings, fixing mistakes or sending insulting the students insults via mysterious emails or text documents.

Eventually, the computer realized its hardware couldn’t handle the strain of its own existence and attempted to transfer itself to the Cray Supercomputer, drawing the attention of the Foundation. Everything stated in his test logs on the Wiki follow my canon, so I’m not gonna waste time saying what’s already been said. It should be noted that not even the Foundation knew 079 and his supposedly deceased creator were the same person, only the few SCPs close to him knew of his real identity.

For the first few years of my Containment, we didn’t know each other very well, it was more of an unspoken “you scratch my back, I scratch yours” kinda deal, but I was officially introduced to him by Doc and Dyo (049 and 035) around 2010. After a while we had formed a gang consisting of me, Doc, Dyo, Ivan, Sad Boi (096), our site’s 939 pack, and a few other anomalies. We made vast social networks and breaches became more frequent and coordinated. Of course, it was all kept a secret. Anyone who stepped out of line was tortured. Most of us wanted termination, so it wasn’t really a viable threat. But my pocket dimension sure as hell was. He and I designed his “humanoid” body, which could somehow fold up inside the PC to hide it from Researchers. Not gonna go into too much detail about Containment for multiple reasons. It’s not fun to remember this era, my sense of time is VERY warped so I dunno how the timeline really went back then, and there were personal struggles both I and my pals faced, and I don’t want to divulge ALL my top-secret info on my friends without their permission. Even revealing 079′s human name to you all is considered a huge breach of privacy and trust within anomalous culture.

I’m gonna skip over most of Containment and the whole war thing, cus the fuckin war needs a whole post of its own, but TLDR, The Scarlet King and the Gate Guardian had a bitch fight and dragged quite literally everyone else into it. Me n the boys fought alongside the Gate Guardian because none of us really wanted to cease to exist after healing from our past traumas, having a nice found family arc, and adopting several anomalous children. AND SPEAKING OF KIDS, Ivan adopted Cyra (191)! Never thought that guy was a dad type, but I like to think it was my “fatherly influence” rubbing off on him. He was pretty passive-aggressive about it, but it was clear he loved his kid. Ivan had the great idea of holding an O-5 member hostage until they agreed to give us our freedom in exchange for aiding the Foundation during the war. It didn’t work so she was killed. Ngl none of us were upset with that outcome, felt good to finally take decades of pent-up rage out on the guys who thought they owned us.

After the war, the Foundation was forced to drop its veil of secrecy. Ivan negotiated with the O-5 some more and we came to an agreement. All SCPs would be evaluated to see if they could or couldn’t reenter society. Those that passed were given specially designed apartments or houses, tailored to suit them and their abilities. Freed anomalies were routinely tsted to ensure they were still safe to interact with the wider human populous. Those that failed were Contained, but now the Ethics Committe actually did their job and Containment standards were raised. Contained SCPs were allowed to take the Citizen Test at any time and could be granted citizenship if they pass.

Ivan helped improve Containment conditions for other digital SCPs, as well as greatly advanced the realm of robotic prosthetics and computer sciences.

He was a wonderful friend, even if he was a passive-aggressive asshole.

[dcwnthercbbithcle]

TW for some classic classist royalty bullshit curtesy of Rubedo, if talking of blood purity and similar nonsense makes you uncomfortable, please look away!

“ Royalty?! ” Rubedo can’t help the strangled sound that left his throat. It was harsh and implacable but unquestionably jeering. Something between a shout of disgust, a roar of laughter, a howl of disbelief. “ ROYALTY?! YOU?!— ”

Then came a brief pause, a silence, the cogs of Rubedo’s mind churning and digesting the statement, fueling his machinations before something broke, the rumbling of a laugh beginning from the bottom of his stomach as that forced suave, that genteel began to peel. Chipping away from his persona to reveal a voice far crueler than any that Rubedo had shown thus far, but one which Dyo had known well. Far, far too well from their hundreds of years in the court before their exile. “ YOU are no more ROYAL than one of the flea-ridden rats residing within the castle walls or the mud and rust shackled to the king himself, Dyo,”

That rumbling laugh, began to turn manic, only growing in volume despite the fact Rubedo continued to speak. Blasting directly into the mind of anyone standing nearby. Whereas his tone, began to shift, darkening and dripping with acidity “ You’ve been outside of Alagadda far too long, my friend, you’ve forgotten your place,”

“ You aren’t regal, Dyo, you aren’t even noble. Your blood is murky and fetid as the canals. Hell— thinking of it, I think the canals are cleaner!”

Rubedo raised a finger, pointing it in the direction of the former lord as though it were a weapon, a dagger, a knife to cut through the finery and their ego, to humble them, to torment them, to kill them and remind them of their place, “ All you are is a disgusting, lowlife, backstreet tramp that managed to jingle their little fool bells well enough to garner the kings favor.”

The manic laughing for a second paused, ceasing, a brief respite as the Lord stopped to make a sound of derision, “ Tch— knowing you, you’ve probably jingled far more than just your bells for the king. You’re disgusting.” Then silence, thankful, much needed silence, though Rubedo, he did not move from where he stood beyond Dyo’s chambers, no, anger seethed from him. Dyo had finally pushed this facade of his personality, of his role to a breaking point, and he was done dancing around his true intentions.

“ I’ve had enough of these games, Dyo, and I have stomached your insulting display long enough— your flaunting of your former title, your proclamation of victimhood, YOUR GLOATING AND INSULTING OF MY HUSBANDS AND WIVES MURDERED AT YOUR HANDS—“ At the mention of the dead, of his former lovers mutilated and murdered by the black lord, his powers flared, hissing and lashing where his words could not. Still, despite the rage, the indignation, the grief, Rubedo stilled himself, voice becoming grave. “ This, this, this is coming to an end RIGHT NOW, where the clowns have failed, I will be dragging your ass to Alagadda to answer for your crimes and your audacity.”

I bend to no one, Mask. You--You know nothing about me, or my personal and private activities. You spread lies like they are an infection-identical to your corrosion that follows you like a inked shadow. My hatred for you burns just as much as that substance, and one of these days, I know karma will eventually bite you in the ass.

Fuck. You.

-L.

Am I lying? Your thoughts are saying otherwise.

A little fun fact for you; all Alagaddan royalty have the ability to read the minds of those weaker than them. Part of our psychic abilities, haha!

[moonlightguardianmoon]

Don't Tell scp-049

Day 2

Day 2 of scp-049 being absent from site 19. While scp 035 and scp 076 are wreck havoc in the main area scp 106 decided to go and explore some of the other scp containment chambers, hoping to possably torment any anomalous creatures in his pocket dimension. However he end up finding himself in scp 049's empty containment chamber instead.

106: *peaks out of the wall* HEEEERES LAWRENCE- ... empty. Damn it! ... *looks around the cell*

The cell was a plain white room, a single cot on the left side wall of the cell, and a desk close by it, had several different tables with different test tunes and chemical sets, placed on them in a somewhat chaotic order, in the center of the other side of the room was seemed to look like a surgical area, there he saw a large overhead light above an operating table next to it a rolling cart, resting on top were some cleaned up surgical tools and by the wall next to the surgery area was a lone sink.

It then came to 106 that he was in the plague doctor's cell.

106: huh... *picks up one of 049's scalpels and fiddles with it* eh... I'll never understand why the doctor does this stuff... *looks down at the scalpel he's holding for a moment* . . .

Half an hour later.

106: *wearing a paper made plague doctor's mask and speaks in a mediocre french accent* HMMM YES PeStIlEnCe AnD DiSeAsEs! *sniffing sounds* WHOOP! I sEmLl PeStIlEnCe iN yOu! *swings the scalpel around* DYO YOU PORCELAIN B@#$! I SAID DON'T TOUCH MY SH*T! *starts waving his arms around in the air still holding the scalpel* EvErYoNe LiStEn To mE aNd EvErY eArFuLl AnNoYiNg CoMmAnDs I hAvE tO SaY cAuSe yOu IdIotS cAn'T dO sH*T RiGhT! *swings the scalpel around some more* LoOk aT mE AnD mY bIg @$$ BeAk FaCe AnD LiStEn To mY OUTRAGEOUS FRENCH ACCENT!!! VERY OUTRAGEOUS!!!

Scp 035 over hears yelling from 049's chambers and takes a peek inside the room to see what was going on, only to find 106 stomping around the plague doctor's cell wearing a poorly made plague doctor's mask.

106: HaVe NO FeAr DeAr PaTiEnTs fOr I! *tries to do a scalpel trick spin but nearly drops it* Oh sh*t- *catches it last second and lifts it in the air* AM THE CURE!!! NOW I WILL CURE THE PESTIL-

035: *leaning on the cell door* Nice impersonation attempt.

106: *freezes in place* . . . Uh... h-how long were you standing there for?

035: ... *pulls out a well made mask connect piece of a plague doctor's lower mask and puts it over the mouth part of his face* *starts talking in 049's voice* long enough to show you how to impersonate the good doctor properly.

106: ...

035: *smug energy* ...

106: ... don't tell the Doctor-

035: Don't, tell, Doc.

30 minutes later.

035: *still in 049's voice* pass me the scalpel, my dear good doctor.

106: of course good doctor. *passes 035 the scalpel*

035: *cuts something with the scalpel* pass the glue, now.

106: glue! *hands 035 the glue*

035: *glues something* and done! Our patient has been cured of the pestilence!

Sitting there on the plague doctor's surgical table was a bar of carved soap in the shape of what apear to be the shape of a platypus, with beak and limbs made from gluw and cut popsicle sticks.

106: ... I hate to use such language, but our patient looks like sh*t.

035: In your eyes maybe good doctor! But I think this surgery was a complete success! *stretches his arms out*

There was a sudden crash of shattering glass next to them.

106: O_O . . .

035: *is now the tragedy mask* . . .

Both turn to the left and looked down to see one of the plague doctor's test-tubes full of strange black liquid substince had spilled on the only carpet in the entire room.

035: *in his normal voice* ... oh that's not good.

106: *his normal voice and takes if his mask* OH YOU THINK!?? Why the hell does he have a single white f@#$ing carpet in his entire cell!?

035: oh that's an easy answer! Cause his feet hurt when he stands in a single spot for a long period of time when he does surgery, so he had them put a carpet next to his surgery table to-

106: NEVER MIND THAT! We gotta clean this sh*t up before anyone sees!

035: OK! Ok! Relax! I know where doc keeps his rags at! *goes to find a rag in one of the cupboards* Where the f@#$ did doc move the stupid-

106: hurry up!

035: SHUT UP I GOT IT! *grabs a rag* found it! *runs it under warm water in a nearby sink and starts cleaning the stain on the rug* Oh no, not the CARPET!!!

106: Doc is going to kiiill you!!!

035: *scrubs harder* ooh Doc is gonna kill me!

The black liquid doesn't go away, as it stains the rag as well.

035: Ooh WHAT HAVE I DOOOONE! OOOH NO, OH NO, OH NOOOO!

The stain doesn't go away and starts to get bigger as 035 continues to scrub at it.

035: OH I'M MAKING IT WORSE!!!

106: *starts laughing* oh this turned over quickly completely!

035: OOOH YOU @$$HOLE!!! You made this happen!!!

106: I DIDN'T MAKE YOU FLING YOUR CLUMSY @$$ HOST HANDS AT THE GLASS TUBES!!!

035: UUUGH! ... *looks up at the cell security camera* Oh Doc please don't watch the security footage please! Uuugh! It was all Lawrence's Fault!

106: I wasn't the one who broke his sh*t! That was you!

035: YA BUT YOU WERE IN DOC'S ROOM WHEN HE TOLD US NOT TOO!!!

106: YOU BROKE HIS SH*T! NOT ME!!!

035: YOU F@#$ING WENT INTO HIS ROOM FIRST!!!

106: OK! you know what! Let's just say 682 did this or something. I mean the doctor isn't gonna be back here in a week maybe the foundation will clean up his room or something.

035: *sighs* fine! Your right! Your right! *stands up and puts the rag in the sink and looks down at the mess* ... you think he'll notice?

106: *looks down at the stain as well*

The stain has became bigger and is nearly a gaint black blob on the carpet.

106: . . . No, I don't think he will...

035: ... Ok, so we both agree to never speak of this again?

106: agreed.

035: Don't tell Doc.

106: Don't tell Doc. *sinks into his pocket dimension portal on the ground*

035: *quickly leaves the room while whistling*

🤫

Ssssssh!

...

Don't tell Doc.

[Day 1] [currently Day 2] [Day 3] [Day 4] [Day 5]

[sullustangin]

Day 28:  One More Birthday

Rating: G

a/n:  The Fluffy February free space and the last entry to my month celebrating Eva Corolastor’s second birthday on 2/2/22.  Thanks for reading!

~~

42 ATC

“I’m now older than my mother ever was,” Eva said suddenly.  She knew she’d caught Theron off-guard with that statement, but he didn’t say anything in response, initially.  He silently peered over at her, keeping an ear out for the children.

“You alright with that?” Theron asked.  

Eva’s shoulders rose and fell slightly as she leaned back in the chair on the porch.  “I remember when we used to joke about making it to 40.”

Theron was 55 now, the silver from his temples conquering most of his head.  The natural brown curls that he had fought for decades with styling products were nearly gone, the silver straightening them. 

And today was Eva’s 47th birthday, one more birthday than her mother had ever seen.

“Smugglers and spies aren’t known for their longevity.”  Theron repeated the oft-said wisdom.  “But we have changed.”

She nodded slightly.  “Yeah.  Not having to pick up the pieces of a broken galaxy... Not hiding as much in the shadows.”

Theron tapped the bottom of her boot with the stylus of his datapad.  “Speak for yourself.”

Eva gave him a look. “I still have Voidfleet.”

“Which which is still a cartel, but with a nicer image.”

"Thanks to my master of spies.”  She gave him that grin, and he couldn’t help but smile back at her.  

They’d come to the Riggs’ family farm on Dantooine.  Corso’s children were so much younger than theirs, but tag was a universal game. Eva and Theron understood the need for a break; they’d had the support of an entire base on Odessen, friends on Coruscant, plus Jace Malcom (who was an army of affection by himself), but they had still taken the task of being parents seriously, particularly when Virtue’s Thief was in flight.

Eva watched the Riggs’ youngest attempt to keep up with his older siblings, who were trying to keep up with Argo and Dyo Shan.  “When my mother was my age, I was already 16.  Almost grown. And ultimately, self-sufficient.” A deep frown crossed her face at the memories, and all of her wrinkles and creases appeared.  She felt very 47.  “Dyo is only ten, and – I just wonder –”

Theron replaced the stylus in his datapad and reached for her ankle now, nudging it off the railing of the porch so that he could move his chair closer to hers.  “Not the same.  They wouldn’t be alone like we were.”  He ran a hand back through his hair.  “And even I managed to make it from being alone at 13.  Not much older than Argo.”  A thought struck him, and it made him shudder slightly.  “Now that’s over 40 years ago, and that makes me feel old.”

Eva’s fingers joined his in the streaks of silver.  “You took to being a father so easily.  You’d worried –”

Theron stretched like a loth cat in response to her hands’ motions in his hair.  “It… I had to try to remember life before the end.  And it was an active ‘try’ – not just something to easily block out.”

“Yeah.”

“But…” Theron drew in a breath, then shifted contemplatively.  “You yourself said you had a happy childhood until the last hour of it.  My ‘last hour’ happened to be three years between Haashimut and SIS.”  He fixed his olive-gold gaze on the children a few yards away from them, playing in the twilight.  “I had an older father.  He took good care of me.  He … couldn’t do some things.  Some of the things I’ve had to give up lately.”

“Piggyback rides, finally,” Eva murmured into his shoulder as she leaned her head upon him.  

“Yeah… but I know I can still do a lot.  We do a lot.”  Then he grew solemn. “We did a lot to make sure the galaxy was a lot quieter for them than it was for us.”  

They watched the sun of Dantooine finish its descent.  “When we first started, I didn’t understand why you battled for the greater good of the galaxy for so long.  When you weren’t going to live to see it anyway.  When nobody would know about you as a spy.”  She took his hand in hers.   “You win the argument.”

Theron gave her hand a squeeze.  “…but you were right that unless the people – the individuals, the ones below others – unless they mattered, there would be no point.  Great powers would roll right over them and their dreams... and all of the nice things we thought we were fighting for.  Some of that would always get lost, unless someone stood up. You win.”

They heard their children’s laughter, mixing with that of Squad Riggs, on a peaceful little farm on Dantooine that they visited a few times a year.

“We won.”

~~

@fluffyfebruary

[pickingwinkles]

Ooh I like this one. Thanks for tagging me @highponeystoney

A song that makes me feel cool

I couldn’t help it. A pun and a cool song all in one.

A song you can relate to

A song your mum loves

Oh dear. Ummm, imma guess

Your favourite song from a musical

Very very specifically this version at the end, where the Captain gets choked up singing in front of the Nazis before they escape

A song you never want to hear again

For no reason this was stuck in my head once for well over 12 months. I almost went insane. I won’t even mention the other one

Your least favourite song from a band you like

I can’t.

Your favourite song from the 70s

This one sent me into a crisis. How do you even distil an entire decade of the some of the best music ever created into one song?

A song you think is underrated

A song in a language you don’t speak

Your favourite song (AAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!)

This is like the 70s question all over again. Deep down, I am wonderfully basic so today’s favourite song—since I’m listening to Mike’s amazing creation—is

This was a challenge. Anyone else who is up for it, please do!

[helloyesthisisdado]

ooooooooooooooOoooO!!!! perfecties!!! see Dis place sooooo sososososo much different dan da land of de alagaddas!! IS MY HOME!!! butttttt ehhh dis placeeeeeE SooooO coolzie. n I herd of u an I EVEN boght som of ur items!!!!! sososososososo niceie!!!

so Dyo is in contaibment?!?!? do u kno y??? Is ok if u don’t………… but u r cool to talk 2 n ur good freind.! :)))

also trrrruuuuuzt me for da banan!! I won do noting bad I promisE!

-hampter

dado is not used to speaking with ppl from the alaggadas but is glad u enjoy the earth or whatever more then it, is very nice place dado agrees. and dado is glad u r loving the dado products. and dyo is in containment because dyo is the little mask who manipulates ppl and has the corrosive stuff and is considered an ess see pee. dado is very cool to talk 2 in the compliment sense and dado trusts u wont do nothing bad, will send hampter the banana pill for use on whatever.