#its inhabitants are slowly mutating
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
These tags come from @sharraus. Everyone say hi!
See, actually, you're Half right. It’s called Crater City because a nuke hit the general Western U.S. region making this giant crater, and it's one of the few places that wasn't overcome with scary, irradiated animals. For obvious reasons!
But if one were to ask how Toxic the city is, I would ask what you mean by that. Toxic in terms of political power or radiation? Both! What fun, ahahaha!
#its inhabitants are slowly mutating#They can feel it in their bones#writing#my wip#crater city wip#an unsolicited lore dump#but our beloved inhabitants arent doomed#theyre just#a bit displaced#Darcy is a very unconventional mayor yes
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
"STASIS"
The BAD BATCH WRECKER x FEM READER FIC
ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ
Word Count: 1.8K
Background: A Jedi finds refuge on Pabu...and more! Love story with angst. For those wanting the love story read just the story until the end, then go no further. Those who wish to stay for the adult humor EPILOGUE, keep reading!
The Jedi faces themself and their fears in the deep instead of a cave.
Warning: Star Wars Canon violence. Swearing/potty humor in the EPILOGUE only!
(Credit: Cool moving star dividers by @4ngelic-wh1spers , Wrecker Pinterest credit: Bad Batch)
Suspended comfortably like a womb and slowly riding the currents, I stilled my mind. The ocean’s cool embrace allowed me to float effortlessly in its depths.
All around gradients of aqua, azure, and lapis blue fading into one another.
The rays of the sun playing upon ripples of the surface above.
Deep dark blackness down under.
As above, so below...
Holding my breath for so long was second nature. Had been since I was young. Reaching a suspended stasis where a fresh breath of oxygen would only be needed once an hour.
When my body signals the need to breathe, I can let go of the Force and slowly drift up to the surface, stopping just short of it. With precise muscle control only allowing my nose to rise just above the water line...
...exhale fully, inhale...filling my lungs to capacity...
Then drift down again into the depths of the ocean.
I don't even need to open my eyes or actively swim to accomplish this.
I had arrived on Pabu that afternoon. Getting intel from many different outlets to find a safe haven. Seemed like FOREVER before I was able to get the coordinates. And sworn to secrecy upon my very life.
The island's Mayor, Shep Hazard, was kind and welcoming. He offered to introduce me to the inhabitants of Pabu. I politely declined for now. He nodded with a knowing look.
Before I could face ANYONE else...
I had to face MYSELF.
From there I walked with purpose to the soft sandy beach of this island paradise and sat upon its shores attempting to meditate. It's beauty a wonderful home, the people upon it frolicking, working, LIVING instead of merely SURVIVING.
A testament to what COULD BE in the universe. A wonderful sight to behold.
Unfortunately...too much of a distraction for now.
So, I got up and moved to a more secluded area. The walk slow, deliberate: a pre-meditative process before going into Force Stasis.
Noting the soft, grainy texture of the sand beneath my feet and between my toes. The island breeze caressing my body, causing the hooded robe to dance in the breeze. The sounds of sea birds, crashing waves...smell of the surf, sand, breeze, warmth of my own skin in the sun...
...the sun...
The sun slowly lowering down to touch the horizon. The earth and sea caressing each other with each successive wave. The wind quietly sings as it brushes over and through the landscape.
Soon, the moon will rise...and she will advance towards the sun in transit.
Two lovers who continually pass each other and will for an eternity, never able to touch.
Such a metaphor of a Jedi’s yearning for love...and physical bonding.
I’m struggling to hold my composure...
He was a clone.
Even though it wasn’t his mutation, he could perceive my feelings for him. Of course, I could easily pick up his.
It was as natural as breathing.
Spending so much time together: planetside, in war, the barracks, during idle downtime.
One day he came to me, taking my hand into his...asking if our lives could be intertwined... forever.
Holding back the intensity of emotion was extremely difficult. I DESIRED this more than anything in the galaxy but had to keep it close to my heart. Tamp it down. Not allow it to run away with my feelings, or become too much of an attachment
He openly wept when I explained that the Jedi Council would NEVER allow such things...and that he was property of the Republic.
We both had NO control of each other’s destiny.
I could FEEL his heart breaking. But even after my gentle rebuke, he still carried a warm and intimate devotion for me. My fleeting glances and body language telling him I felt the same way.
Both of us YEARNING for something more. Something freer than what our respective societal roles would allow. I fondly remember his kind eyes, jovial laugh, gentle ways despite having the strength of twenty men.
But THAT is ancient history. Kamino City lies on the bottom of another ocean and The Jedi Order is dead...
And the clones???
Their minds were taken by SOMETHING insidious and beyond their control. All of them killers, missing, and forgotten by history.
I BARELY escaped with my life.
And now, I have found a safe place with that one similarity to home that I crave...
The ocean.
Tears leaked out of my eyes, mixing with the salty water of the sea, eliminating their very presence.
A large school of rays swam past sensing melancholy, fluttered and swam around my body. Caressing my skin, attempting to pull me away from my grief.
I reached out with the Force thanking them for their care...as they glided away in the deep blue.
It had taken me a while to find the right spot on the beach.
To move onto the next chapter of my life, I carefully disrobed, folding my clothes neatly, placing them on top my boots, then relinquishing my light saber...
...slowly stepping onto the surf, swimming out, and sinking into the depths of the planet's womb.
The waters eventually darkened to black. The only visibility from the full moon filtering her dim light through the depths upon my floating body.
Something large circled me. Far out, but slowly coming closer. Sizing me up with its hunger.
I continued to float quietly, taking note of its lazy, deliberate orbit.
Reaching out I registered its emotionless presence, driven to exist and feed. I attempted to speak with it through the Force, but its brain was almost mechanical and not registering my thoughts.
There was NO fear in my heart. This was not evil, just nature.
If indeed the Force meant for me to meet my end here on Pabu, how could I fight it?
Everything lives. Everything dies. The Wheel of Life continues.
My light saber resting upon the shore, out of reach. If I thrashed about to swim, surely it would advance faster.
I calmly waited to meet my fate.
Eventually the presence circled closer. I catch fleeting glimpses of pale scarred skin.
It’s HUGE.
With another pass the shark’s snout comes into view: Large jagged teeth poke out of its mouth, and a black impassive eye stares back into mine...
...where I can see my reflection.
It glides past gracefully and before swimming away...
...bumps me...
It’s jagged skin opening mine...
A small stream of blood wafts away in the current.
I refuse to struggle, keeping still, silent.
The shark keeps swimming, then pauses a millisecond...
Swiftly it turns and slams into me with brute force. Knocking out my literal breath. Swallowing water and reaching out intuitively I find its snout. Trying in VAIN to reach out with the Force...
But...I’m drowning...
Large jaws thrash. I can feel the concussive force of them closing even in the water.
It’s pushing me back attempting to catch my arms, legs, body...
I hold fast pushing against its snout.
Those black empty eyes staring into my SOUL...
Until one of them explodes into a mess of blood and tissue. Two more shots hit it in the face. Something breaks the surface of the water, bubbles trailing behind it, jackknifing towards the shark.
The shark retreats, slamming me HARD with its tail.
As my vision and consciousness starts to wane, a second something...someone...breaches the surface of the water...coming right for me. I black out before I can tell who...
The next thing I register is vomiting seawater on someone’s hand as they pull me up while gripping the front of my tank top.
My sinuses, throat, and lungs burn from the seawater. I'm coughing and struggling for breath...then look up.
“CT...” I cough again “TECH??? Is... that YOU???”
“Of course. Who else would I BE?” He’s wet, in swim trunks, wiping my vomit off his hand with a towel...then pulls at the bottom of his goggles to empty any water.
Crosshair stands behind him, smug expression, holding his rifle. “Picked a GREAT time to go swimming.”
“YOU’RE a sight for sore eyes!” Echo smiles and waves with his scomp.
I cough and spit some more. Sitting in a boat...
“HOW...when...I have SO many questions...Where’s Wrecker???”
The boys grin.
Then I hear him. His BIG voice booming across the water, excited as a puppy. Barely able to contain himself...approaching in another boat...thirty feet away.
I’ve held back for too long. Jedi Code BE DAMNED!
Exhilaration, freedom, ALL the emotions launched me up from that boat and into the darkness...
Force Jumping into the arms of the man I LOVE!!!
He caught me. He KNEW where I’d be. No faltering in his desire to be there...to catch me.
I’m holding onto him with all my strength, kissing that beautiful bald head, down his cheeks...
He gently grabs my face with his powerful hands, bringing it around to kiss him deeply...
Somewhere in the back of my senses I hear Tech...
“Careful, she just vomited...er...ugh...”
Crosshair...laughing? Maker, he sounds like a defective GOOSE!
Wrecker’s lips pull away from mine. We stare into each other’s eyes.
“You’re REALLY here.” He still can’t believe it.
“Yes...and I’m staying...if you’ll have me.”
“Forever?”
“Forever.”
“I’ll TAKE IT!”
EPILOGUE
Tech, Echo, and Crosshair watch as the second boat speeds away towards shore. Shep smiling proudly as he mans the engine.
Wrecker and his Jedi love with their arms intertwined, laughing...
...the happiest they had ever seen their brother. The Batch watch them go.
“Where’s Hunter?” Crosshair inserts a toothpick into his mouth.
Tech and Echo stare at each other alarmingly...he NEVER came up to the surface...
Echo grabs a flashlight from his hip and shines it over the edge of the boat.
A HUGE sharp toothed head emerges from the deep RIGHT IN ECHO’S FACE!
“OHHHHSHHHIIIIIIIIIT!!!” Echo jumped up and fell backwards onto the floor of the boat.
The brothers hear a smoky laugh...somewhere out there... in the darkness.
“KARKSDAMMIT, HUNTER! Pissed myself!!!” Echo yells.
“Confirmed. Pissed himself. Can SMELL it.” Hunter remarks as he pushed up out of the water and flopped into the boat...wet hair and all. He had tied the dead shark to their boat to take to land for butchering purposes.
“Well SOMEONE had to get themselves into trouble several hours into one credit beer night!” Echo grumped.
“Could have just whipped it out and pissed over the side of the boat.” Crosshair smirked.
“I’ll remember to do that NEXT TIME we're speeding along and I’m in FRONT of you.”
Tech gazed at Echo and Crosshair like he didn’t recognize them. “That...is disgusting.”
Hunter chuckled, pulled up the seat storage compartment to take out an extra pair of swim shorts, tossing them to Echo.
Echo sighed. “Thanks, vod.”
Crosshair settled into the navigator's seat, waiting for Echo to change...
...then FLOORED the engine before Echo could pull up the clean pair of swim trunks around his ankles.
A VERY surprised bare-assed Echo grabbed ahold of Tech for balance as both collapsed into the boat!
Hunter toppled off the back and rode the dead shark all the way to the docks!
Crosshair honked as he laughed his ass off...
PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!
Please let me know if you wanted to be added to my taglist or removed! Thanks so much for your support!!!
#the bad batch#star wars#tbb#bad batch#clone force 99#tbb hunter#tbb crosshair#tbb tech#tbb wrecker#tbb echo#tbb wrecker fan fic#tbb wrecker fan fiction#the bad batch wrecker fan fic#the bad batch wrecker fan fiction#tbb wrecker x reader#the bad batch wrecker x reader#tbb wrecker x fem reader#the bad batch wrecker x fem reader#skellymom#stasis#clone thirsting#fem reader x wrecker#fem reader x tbb wrecker#fem reader x the bad batch wrecker#wrecker fan fiction
43 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Lighthouse Mimic
This lone lighthouse is built on the edge of a storm-battered isle. The keepers, isolated from the world, have slowly descended into madness.
Strange occurrences such as mutated monsters emerging from the sea, hallucinations at nighttime, and other incidents haunt this cursed lighthouse.
Some say this lighthouse is a living, breathing organism that slowly inflicts its inhabitants with madness before devouring them.
This lighthouse has an original version which looks "normal" from the outside. The lighthouse then changes to its ghostly or mimic form, trapping the players and creating a sense of dread. Each map includes a night variant as well. This map pack also includes tokens of each floor.
Enjoy and Happy Haunting!
Download this map for free here.
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
Species Post: the Yuo Yowa
⚠️CW: Nakey humanoids
Introducing a third sophont species, the Yuo Yowa. I already posted about their non-sophont relative, but I'll copy paste a paragraph from that post for newcomers, or to just refresh your memory, since that part was before the lineage split into them and the ancestors of Yuo Yowa and therefore is also important to their evolution.
"When their ancestors, the house cats, started exploiting a niche of a small, arboreal predator, one of them had a nanite mutate its forelimb claws in such a way that they were slightly more opposable. This individual passed it down to their offspring, because it happenned to be an advantage for climbing and prey capture. As the time passed and the ecosystem stabilized more, their population began to grow larger as larger prey established their own populations in the rainforests. At this point, their ancestors weighted circa 60 kilograms. Due to their diet shifting to a larger sized prey, they slowly abandoned the tree canopy, but still climbed on their daily basis. One branch of these moderately sized felines would slowly become more and more social, using their opposable thumbs for grabbing rather than restraining. This lineage will be very important later on, as they will be one of the few lineages to develop their own culture."
So if that wasn't clear enough, the "later on" means right now.
Their ancestors also left the rainforests, but unlike the sister lineage mentioned above, the Yuo Yowa are still somewhat arboreal despite the fact that they are also well adapted to deal with very hot and dry weather in the plains and the desert. Their large ears, for example, are very important for thermoregulation, and the desert inhabitants almost always leave them exposed when dressing up.
Due to both pheomelanin and eumelanin present in their skin cells, they can have reddish and yellowish skin tones. When their hair grows, it starts out as dark until the production of eumelanin halts and the hair continues growing light, or with only pheomelanin present. Basicaly like agouti fur in cats and dogs.
A video showing mechanics of their retractable claws and how they work during item manipulation. The Yuo Yowa have retractable claws on both their feet and their hands, with the exeption of the hand thumb. Shown here is a 3D animation with a non transparent and a transparent (fingerbone revealing) model of a Yuowian hand grabbing a cylindrical and a spherical object. In the animation, I was experimenting a little bit, I wasn’t sure about the design so I made only half of the claws retractable to see the difference. I was so hooked up on the idea that this can't possibly work, but after some tests I realised it's a lot more straightforward than I thought.
And a sneak peek for the end
#speculative evolution#creature design#digital art#worldbuilding#artists on tumblr#spec bio#spec evo#speculative fiction#3d art#3d model#reference sheet#total_convergence#TCofficialstuff#3d animation#drawing#procreate#scifi worldbuilding#scifi
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
My Retro-Cartoon Ramblings, Part 6
We've hit a lot in the past 5 sections here. Its important to understand that TV at the time was, in general, more ridiculous. The only reason MASK was on Saturday morning in animation and Knight Rider was on in the evenings was a matter of budget. They sold us toys of both.
If they could have afforded to give KITT flip out wings and laser blasters on the FX budget from day one, you know they would have. They eventually did make the car fly, and it was boss.
youtube
(Can't show the good version of the opening song because its not on YT anymore, so here's the song, and a rare promo to show just a sample of the madness)
youtube
For complicated reasons I didn't get to watch a lot of cartoons on Saturday, and so a lot of what I watched came on Sunday, much of it thanks to Nickelodeon. This was one of my favorite shows. No one else I knew watched it. No one knew it existed.
youtube
(most of the English stuff is vanished from online, but here's a touch of the french version).
I would try and tell people about it, and they would ask if I dreamed it up. Because, it's about these two children who get lost in a cave and wind up in an underground kingdom, where they're found by the secret kingdom of legless undergrounders, whose star is slowly dying.
The children of this lost civilization, with the help of two ancient pangolins that may be robots or may be cyborgs create a legged goddess figure who, with Spartakus, who might be that Sparatkus but probably isn't, must save the inner sun from dying or all earth dies.
Throughout this, they are hunted by Radio Pirates who seem to be a Frenchman's stereotype of British hoodlums. Plus points: Body positivity, kickin' tunes. Bad points: they're slavers! (boo!)
If you feel like you've just been recruited into a cult, it isn't unjustified (and I should know), because while none of my peers or parents believed I'd actually seen this damn show, it presents its belief in the world of the sun beneath the sea with almost reverent sincerity.
The whole thing is a surreal dream-logic journey through a multi-layered inner earth, visiting historical figures and weird hypothetical alien landscapes. In one particularly harrowing episode, they visit what is implied to be the New York of the far future...
Inhabited by nothing but a lone, kaiju-like creature that thinks one of the party is a doll or pet, one that is implied be a future human mutated beyond recognition. The episode opens with slow, silent pans over the city with low wind.
I adore the show from my memories and few scattered episodes I've been able to find. I actually ordered a figure of MassMedia from France, but it came with what appeared to have been an intentionally broken arm. I was super-bummed.
The one in the pic isn't mine. Its in a box someplace waiting for me to get the gumption to try and fix it. I mean, in what other context does that character design get an action figure? She got multiple! Turns out the original Les Mondes Engloutis was HUGE in France.
It would make a beautiful open world RPG, provided it could be kept as bafflingly strange as the source material.
Also there's an episode where one of the kids escapes the pirates by unionizing the crew!
#les mondes engloutis#spartakus and the sun beneath the sea#my cartoon ramblings#80s cartoons#nostalgia#saturday morning cartoons#toyetic#Youtube
65 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stephen King's The Dark Tower did the multiverse trope before it was cool
I was 16-17 when the live-action adaptation was announced and decided to read the Dark Tower series since I wasn't about to watch the movie. A week and a half later, I've ran through the main series like a drug addict through a mile-long line of coke and I'm reading the prequels and standalone material like "Wind Through the Keyhole" to get more content. Lemme explain:
The World of Roland Deschain is part-western, part-metafiction, part-scifi, part-post apocalypse, and part-fantasy. To mix all these genres together, Stephen King simply layered them on top of each other. To summarize: thousands of years before the start of our main story, a highly advanced human civilization waged war on every level (nuclear, chemical, biological, etc) and wiped themselves out, leaving robots, AI, mutated creatures, and broken-down tech behind them. Later, a collection of kingdoms known as "Baronies" arise and here is when Roland Deschain, our hero, is born. The kingdoms combine elements of medieval fantasy and the Western genres. There's wizards and magic, but also horses and guns. Instead of sword and sorcery, it's gun and sorcery, with Roland's gun being forged from King Arthur's own sword so gunslingers are basically medieval knights with codes of honor and customs.
Before book 1 begins, Roland's world as he knew it is ended and he must find the Dark Tower to prevent all of the multiverse from collapsing. Turns out that before the super-advanced society collapsed into global war, they figured out how to make portals to other universes and that the Dark Tower is the hub of all known reality. The Tower stands on six "beams" of metaphysical material but the people of the old world replaced them with their own material in a bid to warp reality for their own gain. Before they could, their world fell and the Beams have spent millennia slowly rotting since they're now made from real material. Due to this rot, the reality Roland inhabits has basically been on its deathbed for a long time. Time and the cardinal directions are eldritch and wonky, the poisons and radiation released during the war of the ancients still taint the soil and mutate the animals into monstrosities, and deserts dominate the landscape. What robots that survived their creators' destruction are all sociopathic and insane from the isolation. There are tears in reality that let in creatures or can take you to other realities and what humans remain are scavengers and eke out poor livings. The series has something for everyone so even if you aren't invested in the plot, you'd still be impressed at how cowboys, robots, mutants, magic, and demons can exist in technically the same universe.
#the dark tower#horror#roland deschain#scifi#western#desert punk#dystopia#post-apocalypse#post apocalypse#post apocalyptic#the man in black#randall flagg#walter o dim#jake chambers#susannah dean#eddie dean#high fantasy#multiverse that doesn't get annoying#multiverse#eldritch#the gunslinger#wizard and glass#wolves of the calla#the waste land#the wind through the keyhole#susan delgado#roland of gilead
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rebecca's Molded Creatures Guide - Pt 1
The following notes are recorded in a lizard-skin bound journal always kept on the person of Rebecca, the co-leader of the Recovery Colony, for the purpose of documenting and sharing the details and record of events of the Mold infestation.
These notes include illustrations and details regarding the Molded, creatures of our world that have been infected and/or created by the Mold. It should be noted that all creatures listed are very dangerous and should be avoided at all costs to lessen the spread of the Mold. If interaction is unavoidable, these notes will also detail how to keep oneself from getting infected - if it’s possible.
The creatures on this page are those that reside, or have resided, in the air.
Batflies
Batflies, once the smallest and most harmless entities within the Regions - and our main food source, now a threat to our survival
Batflies that have undergone a Molded transformation have grown exponentially in size, ranging from grappling worms to full grown Slugcats
They, like most other Molded, have also become much more hostile, attacking any uninflected individual on sight
They travel in swarms and infest dark, dank areas. A good way to tell if you are approaching a Batfly nest is to listen - the sound of flapping wings, gnashing teeth, and gargled squeaks usually signify that a swarm is inhabiting an area
The Batflies are blind and rely on hearing to detect prey. If you must travel through a Batfly nest, you must do so absolutely silently
If Batflies detect prey, they will swarm it like piranhas and strip them to their bones. Escaping from a swarm has two possible outcomes: bleeding out due to the number and deepness of bites, or becoming infected through the mold in their saliva
One way to tell that something has been infected by a Batfly is through the signature circular bite marks decorating their body
Vultures
Vultures’ hostile attitudes remain through their infection - as do most other already hostile creatures - though they will persist in attacks even if injured, whereas uninfected counterparts will flee
Vultures that have been infected slowly lose their ability to fly as heavy Mold drip growths cover their body, eventually becoming completely flightless
They reside in trees and other high places, laying in wait for prey to walk beneath them. Once they do, they will either drop down or ensnare them in vine drips. Afterwards, their mold-covered bodies will engulf the prey completely
A good way to tell you are approaching a Molded Vulture’s territory is to check the vine drips to see if they are attached to trees or to something in the trees
If you see a grounded Vulture, avoid it, especially if it has bone-like spines growing from its back, mold drips, and a cracked mask
Noodleflies
Infected Noodleflies are wildly different from their uninfected counterparts
For one, they travel alone. No baby Noodleflies to be found. Some suspect that infected Noodlefly adults devour babies first chance they get
For another, their colors have dulled, and their eyes are empty and hollow and clouded with black
The most obvious mutation, however, is that their bodies are covered in thin bone-like spines from their noses to the tips of their tails. Some of these spines are detachable and can be launched like projectiles. The ones on the lower half of their bodies can also serve as legs
Noodleflies main method of attack are the aforementioned projectiles, but they can also constrict, which leads to tearing thanks to their sharp spines
Noodleflies have not been seen eating any prey that they’ve caught, only killing, impaling to carry, and flying away. It is believed that they carry anything they’ve caught back to home colonies to feed the Mold growth
Distinct buzzing sounds herald the approach/proximity of a Noodlefly. If you get caught, your best bet of escape is to bite or slash through their bodies between their spines. Be careful to not swallow or hold the blood in your mouth for too long or the Mold will take root
Samca
Samca were the second instance of hybrids to be observed, the first being Varcolacs
Through observation, it seems that these creatures are hybrids between Scavengers and Vultures, looking more like the former than the latter
The theory of how these hybrids form is not proven, but it is believed that they are formed when two separate species are caught in the same Mold trap. They’re bodies are broken down before being fused together and reanimated into these new creatures
Though their wings seem inadequate, they are adept flyers and replace grounded Vultures as top sky predators
They ambush from the air and carry prey off to either be devoured by Samcas or integrated into Mold systems
Samca’s have a distinct, high-pitched cry that can be heard for miles. Their wingbeats are also very pronounced, the flapping sounding like leather
Their talons are sharp and pierce deep, struggling makes it worse. If one is captured, it may take the help of others to free them before they are taken away
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
#my art#plague world#worldbuilding#monster creation#monsters#molded#resident evil#resident evil au#rainworld#rain world#rain world au#Plague World
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
SHIN GODZILLA (2016)
This was another reboot of the ancient Godzilla franchise. It’s fine, with some great scenes.
Basically, Godzilla (GOJIRO) arises from Tokyo Bay. We start with some found footage type work from local inhabitants, but the bulk of the story is told from the point of view of Japanese government officials dealing with the problem. I’m sure they had names, but they were essentially interchangeable, cut outs of some archetypes with a quirk or two to differentiate them (slightly).
Godzilla starts off as a giant squirming thing that lurches ashore and rolls along streets and over buildings. It mutates and grows some legs and stomps around a bit, but then it returns to the sea. Everything goes back to “normal,” until Godzilla once again emerges from the sea! Now much larger, it stomps around some more and begins to approach Tokyo! The Self Defense Forces are activated, and they shoot bullets, missiles, and then tank and artillery shells at Godzilla, but each time it emerges from the smoke to continue its advance. Godzilla throws a bridge on the soldiers and they begin to fall back. Then the United States unilaterally sends some bombers and they drop some giant bombs on Godzilla. Godzilla is wounded, but then it goes nuclear and spews fire and lasers and everything around Godzilla burns. Note: this was cool.
This seems to tire Godzilla out, and it goes still as it slowly starts to regain energy. The United States decides that it’s going to drop a nuclear bomb on Godzilla and gives Japan two weeks to evacuate Tokyo. The Japanese devise a plan to somehow “freeze” Godzilla by pumping it full of “coagulant.” The Japanese government officials do a good job of acting frantic and desperate, but we also have a Japanese actress playing a manipulative representative of the United States government, which was interesting.
Anywho, the Japanese launch another attack on Godzilla by throwing some trains at it. This weakens Godzilla, who starts to move again. The United States sends waves of drones, which Godzilla uses its laser powers to destroy. See, the humans are trying to tire Godzilla out. The Japanese throw some more trains at Godzilla and then drop a bunch of buildings on it. The Japanese roll out some trucks with giant cranes and hoses attached and start to pump the “coagulant” into its mouth. This goes on for a bit, but, finally, Godzilla stands up and freezes over. The Unites States agrees to hold off its nuclear attack, but vow to attack if Godzilla ever moves again. We focus in on Godzilla’s tail, where we see frozen, humanoid creatures beginning to emerge from its skin.
The best part of this movie was, naturlich, the Godzilla scenes. The monster has a weird, alien design with an expressionless face and dead eyes. The destruction scenes, save for the flying trains, are grounded and well done, somewhat reminiscent of the horrifying scenes of the earthquake and tsunami that struck Japan in 2011. Hordes of people run around in terror. However, most of the movie is the government officials talking and planning. There’s an entire subplot about a missing scientist that ends up with origami-style folded charts. There are white people, Americans, who appear and then leave ominously, because America does whatever it wants. Unlike during the real 2011 Fukushima nuclear plant disaster, where the initial Japanese government response was plodding and inept, these fictional government bureaucrats are competent and clever. I’m tempted to say that this is borderline pro-big-government propaganda. I’m not someone who automatically thinks “big government bad,” but I can still spot agitprop when I see it.
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pallas & Vilt // Universal Night 2
Yay-Yay, as promised the second part 🤩
The new main characters are Astreoid - Pallas and Comet - Vilt. They are “twins”. The peculiarity of their gameplay is that they are able to unite into a meteorite and together, obviously, be stronger.
To be precise, the only playable character is Pallas. The player’s task throughout the story is to maintain a positive relationship with Vilt. The endings, of which there will be two, will depend on this.
Sketch-plot:
Pallas and Vilt descended from the Mercury region in search of fights and challenges. Pallas loves to fight, and, moreover, he loves to win. The twins find out about the death of the sun (Zonne) and decided to fight Marcus - now the main moon and the only ruler in the Erdmond. (Since the moons failed to capture the entire planet due to other leaders (for example, the Great Red Spot), Marcus nicknamed his lands as Erdmond.)
When Pallas and Vilt first arrive at the castle, Marcus refuses to fight and orders the twins to be capulted to rings of the Saturn region. But Pallas is too obsessed with the idea of fighting the one who could kill the sun itself. Unlike the first part, where all battles mainly take place in the Erdmond - the regions of the Earth, in this part the twins travel throughout all regions and by the end of the game they return to Moon's Castle.
As the plot progresses, it becomes obvious that Vilt is against fights and participates in them only because Pallas is her brother. Arriving in Erdmond, the conflict between the siblings intensifies. Vilt notices how the country is slowly trying to survive without the sun. Surprisingly, eternal night is not as bad as Zonne expected in the first part. The warmth of a cracked planet with its exposed core is enough for plants, vegetables and fruits to continue to grow. They have changed a lot, many have mutated, but in principle survive is possible.
Behind the fights and destruction, Pallas doesn't notice how much effort Marcus makes to hold the country and allow his people to survive from hunger and the incoming cold from the regions of Uranus and Neptun. The King of Uranus and Neptune will also mention how Marcus is trying to negotiate to be recognized as one of the three most powerful leaders, thereby taking the place of Zonne.
Boss fight - againsts Marcus, again 😋 However, in the third phase, a lunar eclipse will occur during which Zonne gains control of Marcus' body. She continues the fight against the twins. Depending on the relationship with the Vilt: positive and negative - Vilt will support player (Pallas) or refuse to fight against the sun itself.
Earlier I mentioned two endings that involve the sister's relationship. When the sister refuses to fight against Zonne, the sun notices this and in court Marcus will give Vilt a more lenient punishment - she will be send to Mars's brothers - Phobos & Deimos as their new student. However, if Vilt supported her brother, then they both go to Jupiter region. Pallas will be sent to Jupiter anyway as punishment for his destruction and attack Marcus 😡
Bonus:
I made a view of the planet on which the story takes place. As I said, this planet includes all the planets of the solar system.
I will add the features of the planets, climate, and terrain a bit later— I'm not an expert on all planets yet—
Regions of the plant - Visim:
Mercury
TBA
Venus
Lots of lava, volcanoes, no plants and few inhabitants.
Earth
Do I really need to tell you what the Earth looks like? The climate is predominantly temperate zone, but closer to the south (Uranus & Neptune) it becomes more similar to the frigid zone. Just like the Earth, most of the planet is occupied by water.
Mars
Usually Mars is a transition zone to Venus
Jupiter
My favorite!!! Endless wastelands, deserts & sands (which are more like dust). There is absolutely nothing except rare dry bushes. The second strongest wind lives here. These lands are inhabited by literally living hurricane-tornadoes. These lands even have a separate ruler not subject to the moons - the Great Red Spot. A huge hurricane-tornado, hostile to all living and unliving...
Saturn
The regions of Saturn are mostly located on the rings around the planet and on its cracked part.
Uranus
Ice & snow everywhere 😃
Neptune
Honestly, it’s very similar to Uranus, that’s why everything there is also covered in ice & snow
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Made a U6 Turles equivalent OC
Name: Kornin
Alias: Jester of all Saiyans/Jester of Spirits
Species: Saiyan (Universe 6)
Age: 30
Gender: Non-binary
Faction: Kornin Commandos
Lore: Under King Sadala, Kornin used to entertain and preform for low class Saiyans of Planet Sadala, giving her the nickname “Jester of all Saiyans.” They were renowned for their wit, trickery, and their performance skills, whether it be storytelling or magic tricks. But their plays and traits were merely a facade to hide her anti-social, cunning, almost manipulative personality and specializes in psychological warfare. Kornin was born with a mutation in that she can see and communicate with the deceased, who then learned by them about the true intentions of Frost, a “ally” of the U6 Saiyans. Angered, Kornin tried to convince King Sadala to not trust Frost, but ended up being exiled to a ruined planet due to King Sadala thinking they were trying to give Frost a bad reputation so that Kornin could gain higher public status. After being banished to what they now know as Planet Necro, Kornin allied with its inhabitants and created the Kornin Commandos, a covert operation team of skilled fighters who try to stop Frost’s plans in secret. Kornin still keeps their ability to communicate with the dead a secret and believes that everyone should deserve a honorable and dignified death and by reviving someone, you are disrupting the balance between life and death.
Techniques (TBE):
Not only can Kornin communicate with the dead, they are also able to borrow and manipulate their energy, which is very different from normal Ki. Kornin dubbed this new type of Ki as “Polter Ki,” an energy only the walking spirits of the deceased harness.
Spectre Chains: Kornin creates wires from their fingers that wrap around the opponent, preventing them from moving. This also slowly drains their life force.
Apparition Bomb: The Polter Ki version of Spirt Bomb. Kornin creates a giant orb of energy that gets stronger the more Polter Ki is lended to it by the spirits of the dead. The attack does more damage if the opponent was recently revived in some form.
Transformations:
Zenkaioken: A combination of Kaioken and Zenkai boost created and perfected by Kornin themselves. This transformation is multiplied by the number of deceased spirits that are currently on the field.
#caz’s art tag#CAZ’s OC tag#kornin#dbz oc#db oc#dragon ball#dragon ball oc#dragon ball fandom#dbz#dragon ball z#turles#universe 6#dragon ball super#dbz turles#oc#caulifla#dbs#dbsuper
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
To Stave Off The End
This drabble is preceded by But Never a Key, and followed by So Far to Fall.
Tobria Tatura | Thousands of Sweeps Prior
Long before they became Bukit Berongga, the hills of that title had another name, now lost to the imperial censors who rewrote its history. It also had a name the fae gave it, for more of them dwelled in the troll world back then.
The island that held those hills had enjoyed a long history of relative peace for thousands of sweeps, the fae and trolls on it each generally respecting one another's boundaries.
Then its inhabitants of both species objected to the rising empress who sought to conquer not only them, but all of Alternia.
She had answered as she always did.
This time, her wrath came in a new form: weapons that corrupted the land itself, warped and sickened in a way that would remain for many generations.
Her forces had been stopped, but not without great cost to fae and troll alike.
Now their home smoldered in patches, but the trolls and fae on it wept in thanks for the flames. Familiar plants turned to monsters burned within them, the earth having been churned to toxic muck, the air itself foul and hard to breathe. The animals had been mutated, warped - even some of their lusii had fallen victim to the biological terrors.
The flames slowly purified it all, battling the eldritch influence with their fury.
Tobria Tatura ignored the survivors’ tears and cries of thanks as he flew over their heads, not caring to hide his shining, fiery wings. Troll sentiment meant little to the angel-fae; his job had been completed, and now a conversation needed to be had.
He landed by a violetblood who sat on one of the island’s beaches, head bowed as he hummed solemnly, quietly. His voice could barely be heard, even by Toba’s keen ears.
He was well named the Muted, for Uryali Varzim feared to sing above a whisper.
Toba watched the murky seawater full of writhing bacterial mats churn and bubble, lips pulled back in disdain.
“I know it doesn’t matter now, but I’m sorry.” Said the horrorterror hybrid quietly.
“Are your apologies meant to restore this land, Uryali?” Asked the Fireseer harshly. “If it were not for me, these hills would be completely choked with your creations. The other islands still might be at risk of getting overrun.”
He sighed. “If they hadn’t -“
Toba leveled his spear at the seadweller, pointing it directly at his heart.
“Do not dare tell me these trolls would have been left alone. We both know it to be a lie. You promised me.”
The hybrid put his hands over his face, his large, spotted fins drooping. His glow was so dim it could barely be seen.
“I did.” He admitted, barely audible. “I…what now, Toba? I’m trying to clean up the ocean…”
“Stop. The fae will attend to it. Prevent the spread; that is your task.”
Uryali nodded miserably.
The Fireseer studied him, sticking his spear in the sand, point-up. He walked closer to the highblood.
“You once told me.” He said softly. “That once the planet was united, trollkind would have no more long wars, that they would stop destroying our homes. That everything would be more peaceful. I looked, and saw this was true. Only for Alternia. Not for the rest of the universe.”
The violet sighed.
“I now know I was mistaken to be comforted by it.” Toba continued. “The price is too high.”
“Trolls are violent.” Uryali insisted. “You can’t stop that. I love them, but we both know it’s true, especially for highbloods. At least Peixes understands that, plans to restrict them and monitor anyone too powerful. I still don’t see how she could possibly threaten other worlds. She doesn’t have magic.”
“I know what I saw.” Retorted Toba. “It has not changed yet. Nor is it now the worst I have seen. I gazed into the sun yesterday, and my vision from before - the first I ever told you of - has become more clear.”
Uryali’s hands slowly dropped from his face, and now he merely looked resigned. His fins flicked, but with barely any energy, still low and dim.
“There will be a malediction of illness.” Continued the hybrid. “Even the disease fae will be ravaged by your power. More trolls as well. I have seen it.”
“I believe you.” Said Uryali softly. “When it happens, I want you to stop me however you can.”
Toba scoffed. “It may not be you. You did not wield these weapons with your own limbs.” He said, orange eyes glowing angrily.
“Please.” Murmured the Muted. “Don’t go after them. I’ll take responsibility.”
“Only now do you step up and offer!” Said Toba, flames licking across his troll form, wings spread wide.
“Only now! When it is too late to save the land from being corrupted no matter what the fae do! When illness shall spread and life will warp! You still try to protect those who abused what you made!”
Uryali nodded, face now unreadable.
“They’re my people, Toba. Just as the fae are yours. I can’t abandon them even when they’re wrong. Especially since it’s my fault too.”
The angel-fae’s fires went out, and he lowered his wings.
The horrorterror hybrid extended a webbed hand to the other man.
The Fireseer took it and sat down next to him on the sand. Uryali was cold and slightly damp, strange against his own flesh, which was perpetually warm and dry.
The Muted rested his head on his lover’s shoulder.
“Do they still think you’re trying to stop me?”
“I’m always trying to stop you.” He retorted softly, running his hands through his love’s curly hair.
“If I did, we could live in peace. You have created such wonders, Uryali. It only makes it more infuriating that you have also made this.” He swept his other hand all around them, gesturing at the devastation.
The violet chuckled softly.
“Part of me hates it. But the horrorterror half doesn’t care. All it sees is more growth. Your fire is something to put out, to overcome. Yet that crackle and warmth is a song like no other…”
He closed his eyes.
“Stay with me a little, Toba. No more than an hour. Then we can both get back to work.”
The angelic hybrid scoffed softly. But he adjusted to take the horrorterror hybrid’s head in his lap, and began stroking his hair again.
“How’s your apprentice doing?” Yali asked.
“Cyvell is capable enough.” Said Toba, largely indifferent. “She is winter court. It was a barb to give her to me, for both of us.”
The seadweller frowned in confusion.
“What, because of her season?”
“Because she will be its queen some night, Uryali, I have seen it. Her disease is new, but incredibly resilient; in time it will be spoken of with fear. She looks to me eagerly now, but she is just a pup. She will grow to resent that we are so mismatched in our powers, that I am impure and beneath her status, yet she must listen to me.”
The violet bit his lip. He never liked when Toba described himself that way.
“Are you sure?” He said carefully. “Do you know for sure that’s why she’ll resent you? Futures tend to change. Maybe she won’t even be queen.”
“She will.” Said Toba gravely. “One night Xenoph will weaken so much he cannot reign, and she will succeed him.”
Yali snorted. “I bet everyone will be really sad about that. Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.”
“Do not disrespect the king of the winter court.” Said Toba, very halfheartedly.
“Don’t even bother, you hate him too, especially after how awful he was to Blight.” Said Yali with deep amusement. “Why not ask for someone from the summer court, then?”
“It would be seen as weakness, Uryali.” Replied Toba with a touch of impatience. “You know that.”
“It falls out of my brain every time because it’s so stupid.” The starfish hybrid shot back. “It’s weak that you want someone you’re better suited to train?”
“I don’t want to train any fae.” Toba stated flatly. “But it is my duty.”
Yali sighed.
“You take on too much for them, after how they’ve treated you.”
A brief pause stretched between the pair as Yali’s violet eyes stared into Toba’s solid orange ones.
“That is irrelevant. I am an ally to the courts, and I have to act as such.” The angel-fae said, monotone.
The other hybrid shook his head.
“You always want me to come away with you, Toba, but can you come away for your own sake? Can you let yourself live beyond the purpose they’ve dictated for you? Just because you had the luck to be created this way?”
Toba thought about it. His hands stopped playing with the highblood’s hair, and Yali extended tendrils from his hands to play with his lover’s instead.
“Growth made me, then let me go.” Yali continued. “It doesn’t ask anything of me. I think it wants part of itself to experience the world from this perspective, see what it’s like. All I’m expected to do is live.”
“I cannot act the same way.” Said Toba flatly. “I was made for a purpose. To preserve the fae by warning them, no matter if they welcome me or not. You would not scorn trolls even if they turned their backs on you.”
Uryali’s face fell again.
“No, I wouldn’t.” He admitted.
Toba lowered his face to his lover’s and kissed him, warm lips to cool.
“We are bound together by what sets us apart.” The Fireseer whispered. “Such is our fate.”
“Is it my fate to get kissed again?” Asked Uryali hopefully, his jagged mouth wide in a sharp-fanged grin.
In answer, Toba threw him across the sand as he laughed, thudding back down a dozen feet away.
“All right, all right, fair.” Chuckled the violet as he got off and brushed the majority of the grains off his clothes, shaking his head to get some of it out of his curls.
He paused, looking at his lover.
“Toba. Promise me something.”
The Fireseer raised his eyebrows, wings lifted slightly.
“Whatever happens to me - whatever I do - keep my descendants safe. I'll make a place for them, but I need you to guard it and make sure it's never disturbed by anyone else. You're good with world-gates."
The angel-fae frowned.
“Do you think you won’t be here to see them hatch? Isn’t the Peixes usurper planning to unite the caverns under her banner as well?”
A hot wind blew through the salty air, carrying the smell of smoke and dark wisps from Toba’s fires.
“I hear terrors’ whispers sometimes, love.” Said Yali softly. “They’re not as clear as your prophecies, but they worry me.”
“You’ll outlive all of us.” Toba argued. “Growth never dies.”
The violet looked at the ocean, still choked with his works. Algae and plankton overflowed, growing and consuming each other ceaselessly as they blocked out light to all life below the surface.
“Sometimes that’s the worst of it.”
Toba looked away.
He tried not to think of what he had seen.
For once, the Fireseer hoped he was wrong. That the future could still be changed.
That there would never be a malediction at all, and that some night, he and his lover could share a free and peaceful life.
#cloud writes#tobria tatura#uryali varzim#harbinger#look I know y'all hate Cyvell but she wasn't coming from nowhere
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Greylock Tapes: They Feed on Fear
Spoiler warning for Greylock Tapes.
Another recurring theme I've observed in Greylock Tapes is fear. For many characters, fear is a natural reaction to the story's events, a supernatural side effect of contact with eldritch forces, and a vital element of thoughtform congitogenesis. I theorize that the supernatural entitles of Greylock Tapes feed on fear and need it to make more of their kind, and induce fear in human targets for this reason.
First, fear appears to be an essential ingredient for the creation of thoughtforms. In Tape 010, Tiffany's therapist plays music and evokes imagery during her hypnosis session that seems intended to induce fear. When Tiffany stands before the Black Door and admits that she's afraid, the therapist dismisses her fear instead of soothing it, saying, "It doesn't matter if your scared." It is strongly implied that the Tall Man manifests soon after. In Tape 012, the "Waking Your Subconscious" module states repeatedly that fear and vulnerability are "essential components" of cognitogenesis. Are thoughtforms servants of the evil consciousness inhabiting Mount Greylock, and if so, are frightened humans a necessary part of their life cycle?
Second, fear is a side effect of close proximity to supernatural entities. In Tape 006, Paul Morelli slowly descends into fearful madness the longer he remains at the excavation site. In Tape 008, Arnold Rivers was seized with fear during and after his foray into the tunnels beneath Mount Greylock. The evil consciousness inhabiting Mount Greylock seems to trigger terror in humans that come within range of its power.
Third, the horrific events of the series seem to be intended to induce fear on a mass scale. The dozens of home invasions documented in Tape 004 would have created mass panic across Berkshire County, as would have the News 13 hijacking and the murder of a popular news anchor in Tape 007 and 008. The mutations and mental degeneration of the miners in Tape 008 would have terrified anyone who beheld them. The supernatural entities behind the series' mayhem excel at igniting fear, and may be doing so on a grand scale intentionally. Do they feed on fear? Does the supernatural consciousness inside Mount Greylock grow stronger when nearby humans are terrified?
Fear is not only the essence of any horror work, but an in-universe constant in Greylock Tapes. This is not by accident, I theorize. Something otherworldly needs human fear, and is going to great lengths to awaken it in the inhabitants of western Massachusetts.
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
honestly its a real shame we didnt get to explore moebius as a concept more because it has like an incredible amount of potential to be a really interesting deconstruction of the "alternate universe where all the moralities are FLIPPED!!!" type of stories. like i was talking about it with @/goosewhisker and she brought up a bunch of super interesting points like. okay see the main question that most of this springs off of is... what, exactly, is the relationship between mobius and moebius.
i think its really worthwhile to go ahead and put in this question ian answered on his now-defunct forum that has frankly haunted me ever since i first found it. i've transcripted it below for easier reading.
"Question #4 wrote: When we talk about anti-Mobius, is this an evil version of Mobius really? They seem flipped around, but Knuckles, for example, is a good guy really in either dimension, and anti-Sonic… well, there's some potent foreshadowing in #172. But if anti-Mobius isn't an evil Mobius, in what sense is it the anti-Mobius?" In terms of Anti-Knuckles, at the time he was the antithesis. Knuckles at that point was still a nebulous hero - distrusting, hermit-like, and ultimately heroic in that he helped against the greater evil. Anti-Knuckles also was very open and telling about himself and his world, the exact opposite of Knuckles who sequestered himself away and generally kept everything to himself. Our Knuckles has grown to be more open, trusting, helpful, and truly heroic. One would assume the Anti-Knuckles wouldn't be nearly as approachable nowadays. I think calling the Antiverse the "evil Mobius" is too easy. Originally that's exactly what it was, but as its slowly built up over the years there's more to it. Mobius is a world under one dark cloud as the Eggman Empire seeks to conquer everything. Despite this there are pockets of hope, of heroism, and selflessness that fight back. On Anti-Mobius, the one beacon of hope is Dr. Kintobor's hospital and what he's managed to rescue in the Great Forest. The world is in a perpetual state of chaos as pockets of selfishness, ruthlessness, and misery sustain each other. Mobius is an example of hope enduring despite all odds. Anti-Mobius is a sad look at inevitable doom. I'll have much more to say on this later on.
so as ian himself says, moebius is no longer just the "evil mobius", but at the same time it can't really escape the shackles of being the inverse of prime mobius (see: knuckles vs anti-knuckles). so is this connection one way? do the inhabitants of moebius truly have any free will, or are they simply bound to be the opposite of their mainline counterparts?
i think scourge is definitely an interesting way of exploring this concept. as a character he's concepted on the idea of somebody who hates the idea of being considered a derivative of somebody else. he's not his own person - he's simply a discount version of the "real" him. his identity isn't his own. in his desperation to become anything that isnt sonic, ironically he ends up leaning into... well. still being a derivative of sonic. namely, what he is. anti-sonic. so even in his attempt to break free of the place that the universe has assigned him as a "sonic", he ultimately becomes exactly that.
does he really have free will, or is he simply confined to his lot in life? alternatively, is it that his natural inclinations/personality/choices are exactly that of his assigned place, which is how he ended up as the "anti-sonic" in the first place?
there's also another aspect to consider here - zonic says that scourge's "mutation" has made him "something of a wild card in the grand scheme of things". a line which is... never explained. but fascinates me nonetheless.
what is scourge's mutation, then? is it the master emerald incident, or is it that he rejected(?) his assigned place in the universe? if its the latter, then what does that mean for the rest of moebius, who have all followed in his footsteps (willing or not) to take on new, personal identities that are allegedly separate from their mobian counterparts?
buns' joining of kintobor is also definitely worth mentioning here - at the point that she switches sides, bunnie is still an unwavering freedom fighter. morally, both the mobian and moebian are on the same side. given that after the antoine incident, bunnie was going to join eggman's side to get legionized, what does that mean for the moebius/mobius connection?
is it possible that when scourge made them all take on new identities, he made the connection twofold? can changes in a moebian now affect their mobius counterpart? ironically, again, could scourge's attempt to break the ties between mobius and moebius only brought them closer together, now that both sides could potentially affect each other?
on a different meta note, i really would've liked to see more of moebius just because like... if mobius is a world where people are generally default "good", then is moebius a world where people are generally default "evil"? are they literally set up to fail because of the world they were created into?
frankly, going back to ian's commentary on moebius posted earlier... its no wonder that scourge (+ by extension the rest of the ss) ended up like that. the entire thing is so screwed from top to bottom and i wouldve killed to see it explored more.
#sonic#sth#archie sonic#on a different note though i kind of like the ambiguity of it all. leaves a lot open to interpretation which is fun#also dont ask me where to access ian's forum i havent the faintest clue where i found it#the quote i pulled from a page on the wayback machine but like. i have no idea how to get to his forum again sorry
49 notes
·
View notes
Text
my little raw shock
The following field report is for EHO employees or higher authority only.
Unauthorized viewing of this log is strictly prohibited and will be considered a violation of Canterlot security and a breach of international law.
-
- THREE MILES OUTSIDE OF YAKYAKISTAN CASE: RS-24 INFECTED SITE - DISEASED INFECTION
After establishing the quarantine perimeter for RS-24 the Canterlot government officials gave the greenlight for an on-site expedition to observe the sickness in its natural state, and investigate the contaminated area.The first one to go into the area was a small camera, mounted unit known as RS-24-B was dispatched at a safe distance and directed toward Site Y. RS-24-B has a reserve of unicorn magic for functionality for a total twelve hours and a control range far greater than that required for this investigation.
RS-24-B is able to enter Site Y without any interruptions or struggles. The icy landscape around Site Y displays mild observable stages of diseased land assimilation by late stage individuals infected with RS-24 near the observable border. The landscape around Site Y beyond the perimeter shows early stages of assimilation by singular RS-24 infected who have distorted and rooted at largely random intervals around what remains of the village. Many of the homes appear to have suffered fire damage long since put out; however a fair amount remain intact. Fire was found to be unhelpful in control of the disease.
Aerial pegasus groups observing overhead fly paths of Site Y combined with unicorn imaging has put it at an estimated population of 79 infected. Immobile or the late stage infected are included in this number. However, it is difficult to place the exact number of infections.
Varying degrees of physical mutation, mutilation, and distortion due to RS-24 are present in Site Y and it is assumed that all the infected inhabitants are in advanced stages of infection. RS-24-B observed the exterior of the village for two hours, during which time all infected behaved with what appeared to be a loose sense of biological structure. Interacting with one another in noticeable ways, the sickness is seemingly conscious of itself.
Because RS-24-B remained stationary during this observation period, it is unknown precisely what each individual infected pony was doing. However, the central plaza experienced occasional bursts of activity and downtime. Requiring more data, the RS-24-B operating team was directed to follow a stage three infected pony as it entered a home.
There is jagged bumpy camera feed as RS-24-B scoots over the gravel behind the quickly shambling diseased pony. The interior of this home is dilapidated, but shows no signs of geological infection of RS-24. There are multiple raw shocks present in the home. The infected being tailed is now the one sitting at the dilapidated table. After initially entering the home after the infected, RS-24-B's camera was raised slowly, and refocused softly so as to not draw attention. This action was either unnoticed or ignored. The home is obviously the remnants of someone’s home. The infected pony is watched from the doorway by RS-24-B as it messily hobbles around the home and stops at each of the other visible infected ponies. It appears that the raw shocks are attempting to interact with one another how they would if they were healthy ponies. However it appears to ignore the diseased raw shock specimen under the table which, while seemingly not immobile, does not leave that area. What this creature was before infection is unclear. EHO workers hypothesize it was a dragon based on proportion; but it is entirely unknown. The infected pony followed by RS-24-B is seemingly a late stage three diseased raw shock, assumed to be approaching stage four due to the swelling, and writhing of the tissue.
There is an infected pony laying in the bedroom of the house, as any sick pony would, as if it was not distorted and destroyed, and the pony simply had a cold. After lapping the table and repeating this procedure of feigned socialization three times the primary infected pony, known as 'RAW SHOCK A' henceforward, stops, and enters the bedroom to see the abstract raw shock who is seemingly bedridden, known as 'RAW SHOCK B', and proceeded to assault it with furious blows. RAW SHOCK B is seemingly unable to leave the bed, but is not completely immobile or inanimately distorted as it twitchily flailed its hooves and wings in response to the beatings delivered by RAW SHOCK A. After several sustained minutes of this beating, a piercing sound similar to a scream, explodes from the area around RAW SHOCK B who then proceeds to project a cloud of unknown matter into the air from its newly split chest cavity. It seems to be sobbing; the chest cavity remains open in this way. RAW SHOCK A lingers in the cloud of black fungus like fibers and particles as it floats in the air around them, slowly descending to the ground, where it stains the floor black like raw shock bile. The unknown life form on the table aside RAW SHOCK B begins to twitch in an apparent seizure, and RAW SHOCK A then laps the room twice more, stopping again at each infected organism, feigning normal pony interaction, but still ignoring the one under the table, as well as RAW SHOCK B now after the assault.
After these two laps RAW SHOCK A seats itself at the table and reaches out to another infected pony who turns to the kitchen cabinet and takes the three plates atop the pile as if setting a dinner set. After the plates are positioned by the other raw shock, the facial tendrils begin extending from RAW SHOCK A; writhe up and start to coil on one of the plates in front of it before tearing apart and separating into multiple diseased tissue structures. This mutilation is repeated at each plate.
After each plate is filled with RAW SHOCK A's bulbous flesh it leaves the table and approaches RS-24-B, which is moved from RAW SHOCK A's path. RAW SHOCK A stands completely immobile for three minutes, and leaves the home without further interaction with RS-24-B, but RS-24-B's camera remains focused on the table and the bulbous tissue upon it. The front door is left open, but the house itself is quite dilapidated, in an almost apocalyptic state. After several minutes of RAW SHOCK A’s absence, a group composed of six to seven infected [the bloated appearance of two raw shocks seemingly blurred the line between flesh and flesh] entered the room from outside, still ignoring RS-24-B. Each infected shambles as if movement is difficult, jerking in large steps or squirming in small ones. It takes several minutes for all of the raw shocks to get to the table, and settle in. The infected all surround the table and each takes turns grabbing handfuls of the diseased tissue left behind by RAW SHOCK A, pressing it into whatever orifices or wound on themselves that they can; some into remaining mangled mouths, some into the bulging chest and entrails, some behind their backs to the opening of their spine, some under huge umbrellas of tissue. When all the plates are empty the group collectively gets up and leaves. RAW SHOCK B is seemingly wailing, seemingly crying; either for help or to take it with them- it is unknown. RS-24-B remains here for several more minutes before retracting its extended camera, rotating, and leaving.
Immediately after leaving the doorway of the home RS-24-B collides with an object. RS-24-B. Panning the camera around the obstruction appears to be RAW SHOCK A, whose stage four facial tendrils are intermingling with another infected who’s body seemingly had abstract pattern mutations. The two figures are pressing their bodies together, writhing in an uncoordinated way, almost as if they are infants learning to walk. The impact to RAW SHOCK A is ignored by both it and the other figure. The two infected part ways after several minutes. Almost struggling to separate the bulging tissue from one another. RS-24-B is then directed by the operation team to explore more areas of the village.
The remains of what appears to have been a store show signs of severe fire damage as well as diseased activity inside the building, which RS-24-B then moves to investigate. The door is slightly ajar, and with firm movements of RS-24-B it is pushed open. No notice is taken of this action, or it is ignored.
Inside the store are several infected ponies, most of whom are diseased, standing around. However one figure is on the ground, rapidly twitching, seemingly rolling back and forth over the space of approximately 0.3 meters (1 foot), wailing, and is ignored by the others. RS-24-B tucks itself between the divider separating the cashier area from the customer area and pans around to see behind the counter. The upper half of a stage five diseased raw shock is protruding from a cellar door behind the counter, this pony does not appear to be suffering, or even conscious, from advanced infection and wears the garb of a Crystal Kingdom agent. The infected is seemingly trapped in the doorway, thick tissue stuck in the hinges.. RS-24-B zooms the camera in to confirm identification and it is noticed the eyes of this pony are in constant movement, often focusing on RS-24-B. The rest of the soldier does not move. The acknowledgment is recorded.
RS-24-B is directed to leave this area as soon as possible, and proceeds to the back room. In this storage area a large pile of bodies are stacked together, some of the ponies features are visible and appear to contain both military ponies, and every day ponies. No facial features are discernible on any of the bodies due to the way they are stacked. Atop the bodies an infected 'sits’, appearing to have its lower parts liquidated and fused to the pile and with its upper half in a wild state of flailing and seizure. Approximately every ten seconds a burst of flesh like spores erupts out the top of the bloated infected which linger in the air. RS-24-B is directed to leave the building before its contamination.
After leaving this building RS-24-B passes by the village well, surrounded by a series of immobile infected all facing the well. It seems as though these ponies are trying to use it as a wishing well. Grumbles of raw shocks noise are recorded all around; suspected to be attempts at speech. The arms of each of these infected ponys are stretched out, one in contact with the next, forming a perfect chain all the way around the contaminated well,, save for one whose arms are down at its sides. RS-24-B passes by this last infected specimen at the well to approach what appears to have been the town hall or mayor's building when suddenly, with remarkable forve and speed, the infected becomes mobile and snatches the device up.
Video feed from RS-24-B focuses in on the face of the infected which is strangely in perfect shape amd recognition given the condition of the rest of its body which is horribly bloated and deformed. This infected was once a young foal from appearance, age estimated ten to twelve. RS-24-B is mildly dismantled, rolled side to side in its grip as its intact face stares motionless at the rover. The infected's face suddenly balloons in size and violently explodes outward into a series of fleshy flaps snd tendrils that grip RS-24-B and draw it inside of the raw shock's “face”. RS-24-B's video feed terminates here.
RS-24-B was considered lost at this point.
However, no one at control remembered to turn off the video feed, assuming it cut. Five hours later RS-24-B's video feed resumed, stationary and at a raised level pointing at the upper rim of the village well. The video feed contains some blur due to what appears to be a slimy, fat like film which often oozes across the lens but when not obscured provides perfect quality recording.
RS-24-B does not respond to any remote commands or instruction from unicorn forces, but its video jerks messily back and forth from target to target, zooming in and out of its own accord. RS-24-B flickers between infected subjects mashing their figures together, and fusing into one mass of tissue. Video feed is cut manually and all connections to RS-24-B's unit are ordered for erasure.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mirage
Been a LONG time since I’ve been able to finish a fic but luckily I managed to finish an Evil Within fic (featuring my oc: Blair Kalloway and @aroserinosman’s oc: Darius Archer)
Enjoy ✨
How long had it been exactly? It was getting difficult to distinguish an actual amount from the hundreds of tiny dashes carved into the wall of Blair’s safehouse. She had to admit, she mostly did it these days just to swing her axe at something for therapeutic means, the sets of four dashes with a clean line through them devolving into long slash marks carved into the wood as more and more hope was lost. Though with a lack of other time-consumers, Blair decided to recount, staring at the same wall for more than forty minutes to make sure she didn’t miss any marks. Turned out to be seven hundred and fifty seven separate marks. A lot longer than she thought...
It was endless days and infinite nights that truly drove Blair mad. Without a mission, a goal, a task to finish, she felt like she was fading away, no longer useful and no longer needed. Without a purpose, did she even need to be around? At least at Mobius she was doing something. Was it ethical? Was it what she should have been doing? Perhaps not, but it was all she knew, all she was raised to understand. It wouldn’t matter in time, Union was slowly crumbling, its stability fading with its core now missing, not much would matter soon enough.
“Keep your head down… not sure how many inhabitants are still around this part of town.” An unknown voice from outside of Blair’s safehouse immediately drew her attention. This voice wasn’t that of a mutated citizen of Union, it was a regular, roughened voice. Perhaps this was Mobius’ second attempt at sending in a “rescue team”? Blair scoffed at the thought. That is, until another voice chimed in.
“Yeah, no shit Sherlock. According to Kidman this is the Business District, and according to my fucking instincts, this place is going to be crawling with every type of hostile creature on the fucking list.” That voice. She knew that voice.
Blair’s mouth hung open in utter shock, launching out of her chair so forcefully it fell to the ground, but by the time she looked out over the street the two sources of the voices had disappeared. She immediately looked down, her hand reaching in her jean pocket and pulling out a small silver lighter. Flipping the lid open, she ignited the flame and stared at the faint golden glow, lost in thought as her head began to spin.
She was just hearing things… there was no way it was… him. The events of the day she found out about his death were still fresh in her mind, haunting every attempt to sleep with cruel nightmares.
“Darius?! Darius, answer me!” Blair’s heavy boots stomped through the halls as she ran at full speed, heart pounding so hard she thought it was going to burst from her chest. He couldn’t be gone, he couldn’t be dead, he couldn’t.
“Hey! Easy Kalloway, you’re gonna hurt someone!” Adelaide barked as she sprinted by, but Blair didn’t hear her. Her ears were ringing too loudly, cheeks red and hot to the touch. Ignoring everything else around her, she reached the laboratory door in a matter of seconds. The door was slightly cracked open, its keycard station on the wall now deactivated. Disregarding the formality of knocking, she slammed her shoulder against the door, standing in a wide stance in the middle of the empty room.
“Darius…? R-Ruben…? Anyone?” Her pitiful voice muttered. There were scattered papers everywhere, broken boxes and shattered glass decorated the floor in piles that indicated a harsh struggle had broken out. Every table and chair had been overturned, the only light streaming in the room coming from the hall. Dried blood stained the floor, not enough to come from a fatal wound, but the presence of bloodshed at any capacity was enough to make Blair’s stomach churn. Falling to her knees, Blair gripped her hair so tightly it pulled at her scalp, hissing through her teeth as she felt her blood boil within, but no amount of physical pain hurt as badly as her aching heart. Turning her head towards the ceiling, she screamed at the top of her lungs, a mournful cry that seemed to last for hours, only ceasing when her throat was so raw she couldn’t speak.
She truly had nothing left to lose.
Flicking the lid of the lighter shut, Blair stared off into the distance, her empty gaze fixed on the windowsill as she considered her next move. Her chest fluttered with a feeling she hadn’t experienced in a long time, but it felt even worse considering the circumstances. Was it hope? Foolish longing? Chasing after ghosts now are we, Blair?
Wrapping her hand firmly around the handle of her axe until her knuckles turned white, Blair pulled herself to her feet, heading to the door marked with the infamous red Mobius symbol. Perhaps going into this situation with full force wasn’t the best idea. After all, she suspected it was a trap. However, the alternative was sneaking to get a better idea of who, or what, she was following.
Stealth was never her strong suit. Sure, she had the form for it; she was light on her feet, rather quiet if she needed to be, but in terms of patience, she was the worst candidate for such tactics. Therefore, she only stayed as low as she needed to to not be noticed right away.
Making sure she stayed a decent distance away, she hid behind a pile of crates and leaned forward slightly to get a better look. She was ashamed of the fact, but the instability of STEM caused her to receive some of the mutations shown in the creatures roaming around Union. Most of her left cheek had rotted away, revealing parts of her top and bottom teeth like an undead corpse. Her eyes were bloodshot with prominent red veins, her irises becoming less of a piercing blue and more of a faded white. This in turn made it harder for her to see, viewing everything in a shade of red. I understand how all these mutated creatures feel, seeing red at all times really DOES piss me off. Squinting her eyes, she could see the outline of two individuals ahead. They were crouched slightly, in a stance that indicated they could run at any given moment, their weapons drawn and kept close by. Though their position was soon discovered as she noticed a herd of spawn, amalgamations of four torsos with two makeshift mouths that were forged from torn flesh and gnashing teeth, approaching them at an alarming speed.
Well this isn’t ideal, and the two men in front of her seemed to agree, cursing as the creatures immediately leaped at them. There were five of them, circling them like distorted vultures, their motions mimicking those of large arachnids. From her viewpoint, Blair could see that they managed to kill two of them right off the bat, but the other three seemed to prove a challenge, clawing and biting too quickly for them to be able to react. She heard the tearing of fabric, one of the creatures slicing into their clothing and even down to the skin. Shit…
Leaving her spot behind the crates, Blair stood up tall, gripping her axe and positioning it behind her head, running forward and using the weight of the axe’s head to her advantage.
“Get down!” She shouted, both individuals ducking down obediently as she swung the axe with full force, splitting one of the creatures in half. Without waiting for another reaction, she swirled the axe in the air, blood sprawling across the road like a fountain before she swung in an uppercut motion at another one of the spawns. Tossing the handle in the air for a brief moment, like a motion made with a tennis racket, she repositioned her hands to kill the last spawn, landing the toe point of the blade directly in the center of its back, leaving it to squeal and screech until she crushed two of its head beneath the heel of her boot. By this point, her back was turned to whoever the two agents were behind her, at least, she assumed they had to be agents. Although with that voice… who knew if they were even real, or just a figment of her imagination.
“...Blair? What the…?” That voice again. That fucking voice. Blair grabbed the handle of her axe, keeping one foot on the creature to steady it before pulling the blade out, the metal head making a clink sound as it rested against the road. She turned slowly, eyes closed for a moment before she allowed them to open.
It was him. It was Darius. Well, it was him but he was, different. His hair was a bit longer now, more gray grown in on the sides. His face was more wrinkled, more tired than she remembered before, though she wasn’t really surprised by that fact. There was also someone else with him that she didn’t recognize. The other man was shorter, had fluffier brown hair and a more scruffy and slightly thicker set of facial hair, not like any other agent she recognized.
“Wow, Mobius is getting good,” Blair’s voice spoke, its monstrous undertone as noticeable as ever, she supposed it came with the STEM-mutation-package. However, even the normal portion of her voice even sounded quite bitter. “They even aged you up so you look just like what he probably would right about now, fascinating what technology can do these days.” Darius tilted his head slightly, glancing over at the other man with him before taking a step forward. Blair’s suspicious glare held firm, stepping back in response.
“What are you talking about, it’s me,” Darius gestured to himself, his tone still rather neutral. Blair threw her head back with laughter, a harsh cackle that came from deep within her chest and blurted out through her gruesome jaws. White sludge flew from her hair as she returned to her normal slouched posture, a cold smirk across her face.
“Look, whatever you are, some glitch in the system or an extra code sprinkled in just to fuck with me… I’m not who I used to be, I’m not the same gullible, trusting idiot.” Blair swung her tomahawk axe so that it’s handle was horizontal and rested against the back of her neck, her arms looped around it. “You see, just in case you were unaware, Darius Archer has been dead for, oh let’s see, when was that?” she tapped her foot, pretending to think, “Ah yes, over three fucking years ago.” It seemed as though the other man wanted to speak, stepping forward slightly, but Darius raised his hand out to the side in a motion for him to stop. Blair was in no headspace to be negotiating peace with a stranger, though Darius himself lowered his weapon.
“Of course they fucking told you I was dead…” Darius groaned to himself, sighing before looking back up at Blair. “Alright, look I-... hey, is that my fucking lighter?” Blair’s eyes widened at the question, looking at her own hand that housed the lighter from Darius’ office. Dammit, her nervous tics couldn’t appear at a more inconvenient time. Or… could they? How did he know that was the specific lighter from his office? She didn’t share this knowledge with anyone… Blair’s hold on the lighter in one hand tightened, her smirk suddenly fading into a more conflicted look.
“Yeah, well… finders keepers,” her tone was less angered this time, more tired than upset. Fuck, even if this wasn’t the real Darius it felt damn good to hear his voice again. A beat of tense silence fell between them for a few seconds, only broken once a harsh huff of a laugh was released by Darius.
“Fuck, kid…” Darius muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. Kid. The word made Blair’s throat close slightly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other anxiously. It had been a long time since she was called that.
Her office now in ruins, Blair’s bloodied knuckles pulsed with a singeing burn, several splinters of varying sizes now buried in her skin. Her chair was busted into pieces, wood and glass fragments scattered all about. The administrator stepped right over them, crunching beneath his dress shoes.
“Have you finished?” He asked, his tone of voice void of any kindness or consideration, his arms folded behind his back as he glared down at her. Blair, her arms quivering, nodded slightly, the only response she could muster. “Good. Now go fix yourself up, I will have someone else repair this mess you’ve made, you have a job to do.”
Blair, without a word, left the room, her walking pattern matching that of a zombie. Her face was blank, empty, any semblance of her passion or life was gone. Dragging her feet behind her, her arms lazily swayed at her side, dripping small splotches of blood wherever she went.
From the other side of the hall, she could hear someone else approaching, footprints too loud to be someone her size. Which was good, considering she probably would have snapped if Adelaide decided to grace her with her presence.
“I’m, I’m sorry about what happened, kid.” Heston’s voice spoke softly and quietly. Blair’s chest tightened for a moment, like she had just been punched with full force. Kid…
“Never fucking call me that again,” she seethed, not even turning to look at him before she blew right past him to reach the medical unit, head lowered slightly and her dead-eyed stare focused on the path directly in front of her.
“I leave for three years and this is how you ‘stay fucking safe’?” Darius added, his voice more emotional, than before. Not quite louder, not once had Darius ever yelled at her, but there was more intensity in each word. It wasn’t even disappointment or anger, perhaps a diluted form of desperation. Darius and Ruben were the only two present for that conversation… it wasn’t unlikely that Mobius spied on them, but not in the lab, not that day. Blair’s axe slid from her hand slightly as she unconsciously loosened her grip, the metal head hitting the ground and startling her. She jumped slightly, avoiding eye contact with Darius as the possibility that it really was him started to sink in.
“So… So you…” Blair looked back up, her eyes finally meeting Darius’, “So you really are…?” Remaining directly in her line of sight, hands raised slightly where she could see them, Darius took another step forward.
“Look, kid… I don’t know what the fuck they told you, but, it’s me. I’m still here, I’m still fucking kickin’...” another step forward. Blair’s hand began to shake, the handle of the axe fully slipping from her fingers and falling on the ground. This time, she took a step forward, her boots now planted in the pile of blood she just brought about by defeating the spawn moments beforehand.
“I thought you were… I thought…” Darius was about a foot away from her, his arms now open, leaning forward slightly and reaching out towards her. Blair couldn’t believe it, it couldn’t be real…
The first tear trailed down her cheek, sniffling as she felt the oncoming outburst. Her head felt stuffy, her throat tight and eyes burning intensely. She tried to get another look at him, but with her tinted vision, muddled mind, and tears now blurring everything around her, she couldn’t quite distinguish all of his features. Though one quality reminded, the cigarette smoke scent. Just like the aroma that seemed to circle around him where he went.
Blair practically fell into his open arms, getting a slight running start before crashing against him. Darius stumbled backwards, a startled grumble releasing from him before he regained his footing, taking the opportunity when she was still off her feet to lightly sway to the side. One arm was tight around her small torso, the other taking its usual position and holding her head close to his chest. While her arms started out wrapped around him when they spun, she moved them out in front of her, using one arm to block her tears from staining his shirt while the other clutched his shirt in a tight fist. Since he held her head so closely against him, she could hear his breathing, his heart beating at a lively speed, it made a steadier stream of tears fall as she wept.
“Shh, hey, hey it’s alright kid… it’s alright, Blair… I’m here, I’m right fucking here…” Darius spoke softly, probably more gentle than she had ever heard before. To many, they would think his tone was still rather stern, but she knew the truth. She remained quite the mess for a minute or so, but Darius stayed, he let her remain in his arms as long as she needed to be. Slowly regaining composure, Blair wiped away at her eyes and stepped back, Darius lifting his hand away from her hair before looking at it, rather perplexed by the white slime that was left behind. “Still can’t believe you stole my fucking lighter,” he teased. Blair squeezed out a laugh while sputtering like a baby, recovering from her prior bawling session.
“It’s for your own good old man, you shouldn’t be smoking that much at your age,” Blair responded, a new feeling of lightness in her chest, a newfound hope that didn’t feel so temporary.
“Oh fuck off, it’s all I’ve got left, alright?” tilting his head in the direction of his slime covered hand he added, “where the fuck are you getting all this hair gel anyway, huh?” Wiping his hand against his pant leg, Blair curled in on herself, her cheek that was still intact blushing with embarrassment.
“Sorry… I uh, may have picked up a few mutations since I came here,” Darius’ eye’s were trained on her rotting cheek as he replied.
“Really? I thought that was all makeup.” Blair rolled her eyes.
“Yes, and I found this voice changer that makes me sound like a smoker on steroids.” Darius shook his head with a small smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, seeming to drop the observation rather quickly. He must have been thinking something more, but he didn’t say it aloud.
“Darius…” he turned back to her once her voice became serious once more, “If it’s true that you had escaped Mobius, why the fuck did you come back?” Darius nodded slowly, figuring it was a fair question since he sometimes asked himself the same thing. He then turned, revealing the other man behind them standing in a rather awkward position.
“You’d better ask him,” Darius stated, both of them now staring at the other man. He then cleared his throat, waving slightly while greeting:
“Hey… I’m uh, Sebastian Castellanos…”
#draconic fics#the evil within 2#the evil within#oc and canon#not my oc#but also#oc: blair kalloway#aidan tag#they're just out here having a lovely reunion :''')
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
anyways free concept.
I mentioned it before but here's another summary, based on a dream.
spirits of life forms that take on other living life forms (plants, animals, mushrooms) as hosts, with neither of them getting a choice in the matter, really. Every person and animal on Earth (for other planets, there are separate systems.) shares one of a several hundred thousand different souls, as a collective, no matter what species they are.
The main soul of this collective will always have the form of a nonhuman animal. This animal can be extinct or still alive, with no limit to the size. This main soul, or spirit, must always have a physical host.
Sometimes the host is a normal animal, sometimes it's a person. The spirit inhabiting this body grants it extra vitality, strength, ect, allowing it to live well past its normal expected lifespan, usually at least a couple hundred years.
Because of the extremely high number of individual life forms on the planet, it's very rare for a person to become a host, just because people are so outnumbered by every other species.
When humans do become the host, the first thing the host will notice is a blurry shape only visible at the very corner of their eye, impossible to look at or see in any detail. As time progresses, the shape will move towards the center of the person's vision, until they can start to see it clearly, and will be able to perceive its form, whether that's an animal, plant, or mushroom. Most hosts do not have a chance in hell of identifying the spirit that's possessing them, because a lot of the spirits are old as shit, and are more likely to have the forms of things long since extinct, including ones people've never even dug up fossils of.
The spirit's form will continue to move towards the center of the host's vision, visible at all times, even with their eyes closed, until it reaches the very center.
After that, the host starts to change, and so does the form they see. Slowly but surely, the shape in their vision will change from being the spirit, to being them, as their personality changes from theirs to the spirit's, until, by the time the form passes out of the other corner of their eye and out of sight, the spirit is now in complete control of the host's body, and the host's personality has been reabsorbed into the soul collective.
This change is not just mental, either, as the host's body will begin to mutate and take on traits of the spirit - - becoming smaller or larger, sprouting fur or scales, extra limbs, losing limbs, ect. The host body will never become a complete, exact copy of the spirit's form, but it'll get closer to it than an unmutated person.
Each spirit is compelled to seek out the spirits of two specific other soul collectives, with each group of three spirits consistently being seen in the presence of the others any time they're recorded, no matter what their host species are.
The spirits will want nothing to do with any other member of their host's species, and will leave once the change progresses enough for their compulsion to take precedence.
once the spirit finds the other two soul collectives, they will stick together until one of them dies, then begin the journey to find their new host once it's taken over a new body.
No one's been able to successfully communicate with spirits once the transformation is complete, and though you can usually follow them around without being in too much danger from the spirit, that will quickly change if you somehow manage to piss them off or threaten another member of their group.
Every one hundred years, the spirits on Earth move underground until the current moon cycle is over. No one knows what they do or where they go, since no one's been able to successfully follow them, since many of them get below the ground by diving under water and then going through underwater caves.
#free ideas#writing prompts#story ideas#fantasy#scifi#science fiction#scifantasy#posession#ghosts#spirits#souls#collective souls
3 notes
·
View notes