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affluent-havoc · 3 months ago

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It's time for the fiend! Spoilers of course

For one, Syo here actually breaks the formula I have with these designs, Syo not really working or going out most of the time unless she's heavily disguised. However, I tried my best to ensure she was given some love! So, for her "casual" attire, it's rather simple looking. It's got some LORE though with Syo trying to reform from her murdering days and Komaru helping out in making this outfit! Most of the materials are just thrifted such as the boots with the rest being slightly modified. It holds up rather poorly and has it's flaws. However, Syo seems to like it. Toko, not so much. Toko finds it ugly, no matter how much Komaru tries to give her the puppy eyes, asking for Toko to give it a chance. I also want to take note the bracelet she has on as well as the hat. I thought it would also be cute if Komaru made her a little friendship bracelet. Toko also has one but she finds it childish to just be wearing it out an about (she's not really into much jewelry anyway). Thus, Toko just keeps it on her nightstand. Syo, however, fears nothing and has no shame. Speaking of which, the hat. I was a little lazy with the details but it is indeed one of those "Woman love me, Fish fear me" hats. Syo did the embroidery on it (Syo being oddly good with crochet and sewing) and Toko despises. And, the worst part is that Syo did an amazing job on it which makes Toko hate it even more whenever she ends up in it after Syo finishes fronting. Toko's at least a bit grateful though that Syo doesn't go out that much. Toko is already mortified waking up in the outfit. It'd be way worse to be waking up in one of the ugliest garments present in the apartment while in public. As for Syo's "work" attire, it's just Toko's attire for work with slight Syoifications (Jackifications?) made with the zipper being undone revealing a little pouch she has on, and sleaves rolled up. She even has Toko's purse worn slightly different as well! Thought it would be cute to do! Also, for the pouch, Her iconic scissors are absent, being held deep in a vault somewhere with Byakuya as a safety precaution. Syo doesn't mind too much though. For one, she knows they're safe even though she likes to joke that Byakuya's doing unspeakable things with them which he just sighs at. Additionally she's not planning on murdering anyone anymore as I feel she holds pride in her killing SPECIFICALLY with those scissors. So, she wouldn't be using any random pair. But also, her being reformed and all. Besides, the scissors being held in the care of Byakuya it's not because of the potential of Syo starting all over again with the murders anyway. It's more about the potential of the whole "Toko is Genocider Syo and is a serial killer" thing coming out and as a way of showing that Byakuya does care for Toko, aloofness or not. I like to headcanon that, though footage of the Killing game were indeed broadcasted, for one, the Future Foundation were the main people to see it. Additionally, the average civilian would probably not a bit too busy trying to save their own lives than to be keeping up with the news regarding the Ultimate's in Hopes Peak. Not saying that some of that info wouldn't be able to get out. Some of it certainly could have and added to the despair and all. As to regards on where the footage is held, it's with Future Foundation in partner with Byakuya. Perhaps a bit of Kyoko their too and a bit of Makoto as well though I feel all the survivors pitched in on having the say on what to do with it. After all, it IS the recording of all their Hopes Peak trauma, though I don't think they'd want to destroy it oddly enough. This concept of course has room to change but these are the main thoughts Plus, it's fun to think about as, with Syo in the picture in this AU, the concept of whether the people know or don't know about the whole "notorious serial killer Genocider Syo is sorta just an alter of Toko Fukawa" is something that has to be addressed to SOME extent .

For her physical build, it's just Toko's. What really changes is the undergarments anyway. Though they are not colored her, they are very much bright red, very garish. All of her undergarments are which contrasts with Toko's more frilly and pretty undergarments. One other bit to mention is Syo's hair! It's nothing too crazy, just Toko's hair out of the pony tail and ruffled to high hell! Syo makes it work though.

That's Syo done! Hope I did her justice! Tried my best ;-; (1) | (6)

#danganronpa #danganronpa art #danganronpa fanart #danganronpa au #danganronpa spoilers #thh spoilers #spoiler warning #genocide jack #genocider syo #also did not plan to yap this much about syo ngl. just planned on talking about the au idea with her clothes being from komaru #nothing else planned. but then i just kept going about some other stuff and now i had to scrap by on not going over the word count!#i'm happy with this outcome though. really went and exercised my brain with all of these thoughts #as for who's up next. they might be done by tomorrow instead of me just going and taking a day or two with Syo when she was almost done #though there was a lot of me going back and doing edits after the fact. like that hat. was not planned. just got a revelation for that #her goofy snapback hat is probably one of my favorite parts of syo's “casual” attire though. it's so goofy and dumb and i love it #also i really do hope i did syo justice. like if any syo enthusiasts want to rip apart my design go right ahead! i'll understand u_u

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roryacker · 2 months ago

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If it wasn't obvious I really like werewolves. And coyotes. and Coyote. So I'm taking a teeny short break from WereGhost, just for my own sake, because I absolutely adore this concept and would like to write about it.

Writing under the cut, it's all WereCoyote from here man. Also puppies :)

100% a part 1 I wanted to keep going but I'd go on and on and feel like this should not go any longer. Still. Puppies!

Side note i am a total, utter nerd, I love things like genetics and animal behavior and I guarantee you 10 times outta 10 if i mention funky animal stuff it's just me shoving that interest in here (coyote stuff especially). If werewolves existed I can fully guarantee you I would be studying every little thing. Werewolves would make me go to college I'm sure of it. Genetics almost did, werewolves would make me medicate. What would that course even be called I wonder.

Okay rambling over silly OC time. This is really just a big wall of whatever came out. I wrote this in one night half-asleep by the end of it and running purely on the excitement of getting to write about Coyote for once so. Take that as you will.

A question just about anyone who works with werebeasts hears often tends to be something along the lines of "what do they look like when they're born?" For the blood ones, anyways, the ones who aren't turned or cursed or anything of the sort but just born with it.

Really, it depends on the beast. Some are born human and it's hard to tell until later, and some- the canines, mostly- are born just like their animal counterpart. In every case it's up to chance and genetics, all based on how that specific bloodline has evolved over time, but studies show that in werecanines, the likelihood of having pups is higher. Likely because werecanines tend to have litters, though that's just speculation.

Still- it's the same. They're big just like the parent, and if both parents are beasts they're usually especially big, but they're much smaller than they would be if it was just one. Right out they're usually about the size of the beast parent's paw, which, of course, is no small feat, given how big most of the canines get. They're born deaf and blind and can hardly walk until later on, but by the time they're a year or two they'll have it mastered... in their beast form. Then they'll just be starting to figure out being a human on top of that. So typically, the development of them in said human form is slightly stunted, though they do usually pick that up fast as well. It depends on the kid, and variety in the same litter is common- usually the one who's developed the best, the largest of the litter, will be teaching their siblings how to go about things.

And of course, thanks to technology and the like, mortality rates are fairly low- even the runt of the litter can usually thrive, and with vitamins and hormones and god knows what else, if someone really doesn't want a runt at all the chances can be heavily lowered. It's never zero, no, but it's low enough to be a comfort.

Coming out here was a bad idea. It's cold and there's snow everywhere, and the only reason they were able to get in the state was thanks to Kate- and, really, mountain missions never seem to turn out well for Task Force 141. They're just bad luck... but it has to be done. If they don't, no-one else will.

It became especially obvious that it was a bad idea when Garrick stumbled, unable to see with both the dark surrounding all of them and the snow coating just about everything. So of course he fell in the pit that tripped him up, and the moment he opened his eyes he was met with long, sharp canines and the low, angry growl of something too big to just be a stray dog or, hell, a wolf.

Sometimes, werebeasts run off and make themselves right at home in the wild, instead of tolerating all of the human concepts. Reasons can range from being or feeling threatened, just not wanting to live like that anymore, family issues, to who knows what. A common one is children- instincts go high when young are involved and, as it turns out, human homes don't do much in terms of convincing them that their kids are actually safe. So, it's common that they'll run away for a bit to keep them safe, especially if they're born wild. Runaway weres are nothing new, but that's not what they were sent out for at all- they weren't even warned about this one, meaning either they've gone the wrong way or this one's new.

Gaz realizes pretty quickly why this one's snarling at him- beneath the beast is a bundle of four, maybe five squirming, furry masses, tucked carefully under their body so nothing can reach them without attacking the parent first.

Speaking of which, they're huge. The den is pretty big, hollowed out dirt under a fairly large tree, the roots acting as a method of keeping the whole thing upright and sturdy, and still their back almost brushes against the soil above them.

Not that he has long to stare, of course, when another rumble breaks from the beast's chest, low and angry as they lean closer to snap their jaws in his direction to scare him off from what is most definitely a still-vulnerable litter. It's a little hard to see with the night vision, but the long ears and the lack of any warnings about wolves nearby leads Gaz to believe it might be a coyote or something, and the scars coating its fur lead him to believe that they might have been involved in combat at some point- especially the huge burn on their hip, the uneven skin lacking any fur like the rest of it. It's clearly a winter coat, with how thick the remaining fur is and the time- the Smoky Mountains get cold, unsurprisingly.

He heeds the warning, backing up towards the entrance of the den with his hands raised in a show of submission- trying not to seem like a threat to something that could so clearly maul him if they wanted. He spares a short glance up to the opening to gauge whether or not he should risk turning his back to try and leave, and get a glimpse of his teammates, and quickly realizes that the beast is counting on him looking away. Thankfully, it's not to attack, as when he snaps his gaze back to them they're simply herding the squirming mass of pups away from the stranger that just fell right into their little safe spot...

Yeah, he can kind of see why they're a little nervous. They're tiny- hardly the size of the parent's snout as it nudges them towards the wall farthest from Gaz- and can't do much of anything outside of crying out and writhing about.

"Gaz?" One of the men outside calls, and it prompts another growl from the beast- fur bristling at the realization that this intruder isn't alone.

"I'm fine, just.. don't come in here."

There's a sigh, a familiar sound from Price, before another sound follows. Footsteps, crunching in the snow, definitely getting closer. Damn this man.

Before Garrick can protest, there's a soft thud as the Captain drops in alongside him. The werebeast is already curled over their litter once more, rumbling lowly, but quiets when Price holds a hand up as well, lifting the night vision goggles off of his face with the other. They seem confused, but their teeth are hidden just a bit more, so he can only assume that's a good sign.

"Listen- you can understand me, right?" The Captain starts. Gaz looks at him for a moment, wondering if he's gone mad considering he's trying to talk to the beast that they've just waltzed into the den of, before turning his gaze back to the creature instead. They shuffle, but seem far more focused on keeping their body atop the litter than trying to lurch at them or attack or anything of the sort, thankfully.

"We're not here to hurt them. It was an accident, we'll be on our way." He explains, calm as ever, and after a long moment the beast huffs through their nose, glancing up at the entrance to the den and then back to Garrick and Price, like it's trying to silently urge them out.

Gladly.

Gaz is the first to clamber out, more than eager to not be trapped there any longer, but Price lingers- digging around for a bit before finding quite possibly the only piece of food he has on him and dropping it out into the den, no doubt as some sort of peace offering. They did look thin, Gaz realized- huge and muscular, with plenty of fluff, but thin even so. It is cold- prey is scarce. Maybe an early litter..? Or a late one. Gaz isn't sure about the childbearing habits of werebeasts, really, that's not exactly something he ever needed to learn.

As it turns out, feeding them was a bad idea. A really bad idea. A worse idea than coming out here at all on this godforsaken mission. What kind of dimwit starts a bonfire in an abandoned base? Using old supplies? Of course the damn thing exploded. The team hardly had a chance to retaliate against 141 considering half of them were putting out fires on their clothes, a good chunk were injured from the explosion, and the rest were all scrambled and confused anyways. It was an easy mission.

It was an especially easy mission, however, with an angry werecoyote trailing behind them, biting into anyone who seemed too aggressive for their tastes. Legal or encouraged? No. They don't even know who this is. But they refused to leave, so what choice did they have. They didn't leave the pups, or let them fall into the cold once- instead, with a grunt and a scrunched nose that served as plenty warning, they shoved the litter into the arms of the poor terrified Private who had to watch the beast clamber out of the den, and stubbornly followed the group.

Is this how cat owners feel? Gaz has heard plenty of stories about a stray just showing up one day and making itself at home. This feels like that... kind of. Just bigger, and with much more intimidating teeth.

The pups are cute, admittedly, when there's no worry of if their parent will sink their teeth into him or not. Tiny and helpless and such noisy little things- if not for the harsh bark (surprisingly high-pitched, though he supposes coyotes aren't exactly known for their graceful sounds) that left the beast's throat when he went to pet them in Ozerov's arms, he might have just distracted himself scratching the little guys. But of course, despite following them like a lost dog, the adult was incredibly territorial over their young. It didn't seem to mourn the loss of the den, though it had seemed fairly new anyways.

With that came the dilemma on their way back. Deal with an angry werecoyote and turn them way, or take them with and figure out how to get this thing and their pups back. Not wanting to be attacked after all of that, they manage to herd the parent into a nice little spot where they can rest and hopefully not raise too much suspicion, alongside their pups. Obviously Ozerov has had enough thrill for one night given he's incredibly quick to (gently) dump the pups into a soft enough spot, wasting no time in getting as far as possible.

The werecoyote doesn't seem to mind getting their pups back, curling up around them and licking the unfamiliar scent from their fur in a manner that's so careful and loving it's almost hard to think this thing could have killed them earlier. Gaz takes it upon himself to watch the creature, and after a short while, Price joins him.

Travelling is surprisingly peaceful. No growls or threats to be heard, no weapons necessary, just patiently watching the beast take care of their litter while everyone else comes down from the adrenaline of the mission. Even if it was relatively easy compared to what they tend to do, that doesn't really leave much room for comfort, and there were still a few injuries. Minor, but injuries nonetheless.

Eventually Soap comes to check out the excitement, as well, having gone a different route alongside Ghost and some of Nikolai's team. He'd missed it, and being Soap, had to see what the fuss was. He pushed his luck a lot, much to Gaz's chagrin, getting close to the beast and even poking and prodding at them a few times trying to get them to react. He ended up with a harsh nip to the hand and a red mark as a warning, and begrudgingly heeded it, settling beside Garrick to watch the pups squirm about for a bit before deciding he was bored and moving to leave. Price left alongside him, patting Gaz on the shoulder and humming a lighthearted remark about believing in him, and finally he was left alone with the werecoyote once more.

They don't make eye contact. Gaz has heard that dogs don't like it, seeing it as a threat or challenge to dominance. He wonders for a moment if that means they're being submissive to him, since it's not their territory anymore, or if that means they're stubbornly refusing to believe he could be in a dominant position, but he assumes with the tail tucked under one of their legs and the pushed back ears that it's the former. Eventually they turn their back to him entirely, and he assumes it has to do with the noisy whines of the pups and the way they'd begun to crawl closer and nudge at their parent's fur, but regardless he doesn't budge from his spot.

It's not really worry- he assumes they're smart enough to know not to start anything so high up into the air. Or at least, not worry for the task force or Nikolai's men. He's a little worried for the beast and their pups. Eventually it's enough that he pushes up to stand and decides to look around and see if they have any food stashed away. He doesn't get much, but it's enough, and some of it's even meat. He assumes that they'd probably like meat more, being a werecanine. Gaz can't say he's heard of a vegetarian dog, though he also can't say he knows much about werebeasts in general.

He creeps back towards where they're still laid down, and decides to simply open a packet and slide it towards them instead of being like Johnny and risking a bite. It takes a moment, but they do perk up at the scent, glancing back towards Gaz for a short second before reaching with their snout to pick at the food and drag it closer. He feels a little happy that he was able to help them, even if it isn't much.

As usual, it takes a long while to get back to base. A bit of sleuthing and some help from Kate leads them to an identity. As it turns out, their stowaway is Rory Acker, given the ever-so-clever callsign "Coyote," a retired Lieutenant who served as a working dog for a while- Gaz thought it sounded cruel to call him that, but Price only shrugged when he mentioned it and said that was the term. Regardless, it explained the scars, especially the burn given a briefly mentioned incident regarding a flame during combat. As far as anyone could tell, he was born a werecoyote, though information on his family was hard to find at best.

The pups, however, was new. Of course it was- the little things were so small they couldn't be more than a month old, at most. Maybe even younger. He had no recorded partners, he was assigned female at birth, it turned out, but had always been on birth control while in service, and he had retired years ago shortly after his handler was KIA. Information after that got blurry, but there was no news regarding him, and he didn't seem to have much of anything regarding a criminal record to go off of, so the rest they'd just have to learn from Rory himself.

They had him set up in a room in the barracks, Price explaining what he knew about werebeasts as they both wandered off towards the room in question with extra blankets and towels in their arms, just about anything soft they could find that wasn't actively being used, already claimed, or necessary for someone else. By the time they got inside, their odd new companion had already settled himself and his pups under the bed in a new makeshift den, and it was just a matter of leaving the bedding on top of the bed and mentioning it was there before they left again.

Gaz decided it might be best to get some research in on what the hell taking in a werecoyote even means... and more information on how werebeasts in the military work, given he's never seen it himself. It's mostly a US thing, it looks like, but it doesn't look like it's illegal anywhere. Discouraged in some places, maybe, but even in the UK it looks to be a pretty active practice... just not spoken of much.

Then, of course, comes the searches about werecoyotes specifically. They share most of their habits with real coyotes, not that Garrick knows much about those either considering they're mostly an American thing. But, as he finds out, they form bonds with one mate and usually have their pups after two months or so- meaning, to a point, it does make sense to see pups around this time, if he stretches his logic just a bit. The question is just where the sire is... but now isn't the time to worry about all of that.

It's late when he decides he knows enough for the night, not really wanting to know more about all of that than he has to. There's no commotion, no growling across the hall, and the night remains quiet. It's easy to forget what all just happened, at least for a few hours.

Ghost was the last to see Rory. He was woken up by panicked snarls and a harsh-sounding thud from the room they kept him in, and, realizing no-one was awake to check, he begrudgingly went to check it out. The pups were fine, though awoken and disturbed by their father's outburst- which, clearly, had been caused by a nightmare, considering when he opens the door he finds the beast panting and shuddering, very clearly wide awake, looking terrified.

Ghost knows that look. He's seen it plenty of times before.

He didn't think about it much, grumbling and complaining under his breath, but managed to herd Rory back under and into his makeshift den with the pups. A quick glance proved they were all fine, unharmed by the outburst even if all the movement and the loss of their source of warmth had stressed them slightly. Simon somehow crammed himself under there as well, tight fit be damned. He hadn't been there to see the beast lashing out the first time, or just how territorial he got, but he didn't encounter any problems- probably because he didn't show any interest in the pups, really. Yes, he was a big man with a weird skull mask who just showed up, but outside of a quick look (which was partially just because he heard their incessant squeaking) he had paid them little mind.

He sat there for a while, just sitting there so that Rory had someone else to soak up the presence of, figuring that the anxiety of needing to protect his pups from a stranger might just kick him out of the state his mind's in. Eventually, that shifted to Ghost deciding he's tired and doesn't care enough, shuffling closer and laying against the beast's back. Under the fur it's not very soft- a bit of give around his gut, but firm and bony around his sides and back. Still, Ghost has slept on worse, and he isn't being bit or really even growled at, outside of a short, halfhearted grunt of warning. He decides to stay right there, not really seeing Rory as a threat. If he wanted to cause problems he would have, and if Ghost knows anything about werecanines from his past experiences, they're about as greedy as a dragon when it comes to keeping "their" things safe. Pups seem like something Rory would prioritize over anything else, surely.

He's right, of course he's right. By the time he wakes up it's started to get light already, a golden glow bleeding into the room, and the beast is back asleep, curled tight around the litter that's finally settled as well. Ghost sits up, muttering to himself and reaching behind him to offer Rory a firm pat to the side, the same way he might a proper dog, then makes his leave.

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