#two of them are planet destroying eldritch horrors too

[treepan0]

So uh.... I may or may not have a smash bros crack fic about Sephiroth and a non serious oc of mine in the works...

because if I had a nickel for every time there was an jrpg, that just so happened to have a gangly white psychic who was experimented on humans, I would at least 3 nickels

[captain-mj]

Eldritch Sacrifice

Remember how I promised that I had a separate Korangi idea if SoapGhost arranged marriage one? And then I had you guys do a poll because I had two? Well here's one of them!!

Also, CW: dubcon. Horangi is into it, however he is initially agreeing due to a gamble they're making

König stretched and groaned. His little cult were chanting for him again and he wondered what they could possible be about to ask for now. Money? Food? More warm bodies to lay with? They just kept asking and whether he delivered or not, they always had something wrong. 

Destroy the economy so their money is worth more? Bad move. 

Mutate the crops and trees until they were full of, hopefully edible, fruit? Bad move. 

Make fleshy wooden creatures that were warm and had holes to fuck but weren’t completely human? Awful move. He gave some of them “nightmares” whatever those were. Apparently they were like his dreams. But scary. König thought all dreams were scary therefore separating the two felt stupid. 

“Master.” One of them cried and he winced. 

“Yes…… little one?” His voice crashed and croaked and twisted the boards beneath him. 

The brave one continued to speak. “We have noticed your displeasure with us. You are displeased.”

König wanted them to leave. He had half a mind to obliterate them however they were at most an annoyance. “And you plan to rectify this?”

“Yes. Today, we have brought you something to lift your spirits. A rarity.”

This did not pique his interest very much. Humans considered certain rocks to be valuable because they were rare on earth. He had seen planets that rained diamonds. With sculptures that made their small rings look puny. Universes surrounding shards of glass older than the very concept of bones. 

“Maybe he suit your interests.”

“He?”

A small man. Only a little over six foot, which may be big for a human but was only hand sized to him, lay kneeling. Throat exposed. 

He was… a man. It wasn’t until he locked eyes with König so easily, able to look through the shivering, horrid mass of flesh and tentacles and black dripping darkness and see König. Their eyes stayed locked on each other. 

“An abomination. A man able to perceive that which should not be perceived.” The knife was put to his throat. “Horangi. Tiger. May your blood finally give our Master solace-”

“Wait.” König shouted, regretting it when the man’s face became so pained.

A tiniest of sounds ripped from his throat. A tiny gasp of pain that had König’s thoughts scrambling in a way he could only assume was similar to how human’s did when he messed with them. 

“I do not want his death.”

“You are so right sir! It would be too swift.” They backed away quickly. “Is this a pleasing sacrifice?”

Horangi finally showed a hint of fear. Giant brown eyes staring up at him. König could not hear his thoughts, he was an interdimensional being, not psychic. But he could practically feel the anxiety and see the gears turning as he no doubt imagined what König could do to him. 

Horangi had a gift, sure. An ability to avoid those eldritch abominations and to see them for what they were. But it also meant he did not have the escape of insanity. His mind was meant to take the horrors of König. Unable to go fully mad. 

A perfect plaything. 

König reached down, hand gently grasping Horangi. He picked him up, letting him struggle and writhe as the chains tangling him simply snapped. Not an ounce of pressure sat on his skin, König simply picked him up with ease. Horangi stared at him. Breath quickened.

“What do you ask for?”

The Brave One spoke up again. “We ask for fertility.”

“All of you will have happy, healthy children.”

“....human children?”

“Yes, all human.” König sank back into the walls and back into his dimension, taking his prize with him. 

Horangi shivered and König quickly fixed the temperature, making sure it was optimal for humans. 

A sacrifice. 

Finally, something interesting. 

Dead lambs and black cats were all good and well (all of which he put in dimensions perfectly suited for them) but they were… well. 

Not human. 

Humans were interesting. Attractive. And capable of delicious emotions that most other creatures didn’t bother developing. What use does a bug have for anxiety? Existential dread? 

Horangi shivered in his arms again, clearly not from the cold. König dropped him into a pool of soft. Not material that was soft, but the very idea of softness. 

“What do you think of when you see me?”

Horangi hummed. “What do you want me to feel?”

König… folded. From Horangi’s point of you, it looked like crumbling paper as he sank to Size where they were a bit more level. He was still taller, close to seven feet, but his little sacrifice needed to be able to look him in the eye. His hand cupped Horangi perfectly, able to taste the way his body spiked. Full of adrenaline and hormones that puppeted his emotions. 

“Just like every other human, gift or not. Only able to be subservient. How disappointing.”

Anger. An unexpected emotion that sparked his interest again. “What do you mean by that?” 

König shrugged. “You all seem naturally inclined to worship is all.”

Horangi bared his teeth. “Not naturally inclined to worship. Just do not wish to be tortured.”

“Are you suggesting if there was no threat, you would act differently?”

Horangi stilled and König almost assumed he had been right before pausing and thinking. Why would Horangi admit he would act disrespectfully when König could rip him apart atom by atom and keep him alive?

Would König ever do that? Absolutely not. He wasn’t really interested in cruelty. His fellow eldritch beings may love suspending people in eternal agony, but König didn’t. Honestly, he kinda wanted to be left alone most of the time, but Horangi seemed so interesting and he was already there!

“So you feel no need to fall to your knees? To worship? To use your mouth to whisper ancient prayers to me?” König made his voice clear and honest. 

Horangi moved oddly. Legs twitching. “No. I don’t.”

He was lying. Not about everything, but about something. 

König moved closer, bright blue eyes staring into Horangi’s. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Well. I suppose… I should make you obedient.”

“How? If you tear me apart and remake me, I won’t be the same person. I would be no more obedient.”

Well. 

That was a thought. 

König pouted. He didn’t consider it pouting, but Horangi did. 

“You’re right. If I torture you and break you, it wouldn’t really be you either.”

Horangi nodded quickly. “So you can’t exactly make me obedient.”

König hummed. “Not true. You humans have made dozens of studies on positive reinforcement.”

“And what is my reward? Getting to go back to Earth?”

König fell on Horangi, surrounding him and pinning him between the suddenly hard world. “I’ll show you what your rewards will be. Your punishment will be not getting to finish. I know you humans love nothing more than finishing.”

“F-finishing?”

“Oh. Wait. Consent. That is important. Do I have your consent to try this experiment?”

“If I don’t obey you afterwards, will you return me?”

“Sure.” König thought it was a fun wager. “Just endure and stay surly and mean, and then I’ll bring you home.” 

Horangi scoffed. “As if anything you could do would make me listen to your orders.”

König had Horangi on his hands and knees, face pressed to the pillows and ass up. He used one of his tentacles to fuck him and had been doing so for… well, time didn’t really exist. He just knew that for Horangi, it must’ve felt like a really, really long time. Especially since he had not allowed him to cum. 

Horangi sobbed into the pillow when the tentacle stopped again. He did not fuck him with any finesse or strategy, working intently on one thing and one thing only which was getting as deep into Horangi as possible. That and trying to stretch him out. The slick from the tentacles had started to drip down Horangi’s thighs. His hole clenched hard around him as another sob ripped out of his throat. 

“This is cruel. You fucking-AH.” Horangi cut off as the tentacle pushed in even deeper. His stomach bulged slightly this time and König accidentally brushed the bundle of nerves he had been so careful to avoid because Horangi almost, almost came. König didn’t let him of course. It was super simple, just don’t let his body go through the motions. It had the bonus side of effect of letting Horangi get a taste of the feeling but no physical relief. 

König hummed. “I am preparing you. You don’t need to finish yet.”

“This is fucking prep??” Horangi buried his face in his pillows. “I can’t…”

“You can tap out.” König purred. “We can always try again later.” 

Horangi scoffed and arched his back, trying to let him in deeper now. “Fuck you. I can… I can…”

“I don’t think you can take it, but you will.” König finally, finally, fucking finally, pulled the slick tentacle out of him, watching both the relief from no longer being so filled and the frustration of not getting fucked to completion. 

Horangi didn’t fight when his body was moved around but he did look a little ashamed, especially when he spread his legs a little farther for König to get between them. 

His body felt heavenly. Other eldritch creatures were nice and all, but they were just as cold as he was. Humans were among one of the few that could consent to sex and they were also so fucking tight. A vice. He had to be careful though, despite all of his prep, Horangi still hit him to make him stop pushing in. 

“Too much. Too big. Fuck. Can’t you shrink down more?” Horangi whimpered.

“Yes. But I checked already. I’m the perfect size for you like this.”

“No. You’re stretching me out so much I…” He trailed off as König pushed right in, making himself perfectly at home. Horangi’s cock twitched and started to leak. “Fuck.” There was a beautiful blush on his face that made him look dazzling. Fragile and whorish. 

König felt like he was drowning in Horangi’s unabated arousal. The previous nervousness and protests dying out now. He rocked into his prostate, letting Horangi finally get what he wanted. 

The broken gasp that ripped out of him almost made König lose his composure. Of taking Horangi and fucking him like a toy until he finished. But that would hurt him and he didn’t really want to hurt Horangi. 

Not when he can get those beautiful little punched out noises. 

So he did it again. Feeling him clench and moan around him. 

Slow. 

Steady. Repeatedly hitting the same spot over and over again and this time, he encouraged Horangi to finish. Wouldn’t let him touch himself of course, but he pushed the right buttons in Horangi’s brain and let him focus on just the sensations until he felt him convulse and shake around him. The feeling of him orgasming around his dick was addicting. 

König wanted to feel it again. Technically, he probably could’ve just made him do it again. Or kept him just perpetually there, unable to come down and forced to endure wave after wave of ecstasy until König grew bored of it. But something about making him do it himself, watching Horangi realize he was getting close again just from the sensation of being fucked rather hard by something that barely fit… Too delicious to pass up. He finished inside him, kissing Horangi’s jaw as he did but he didn’t stop moving. 

With Horangi so sensitive, it was so easy to get him to finish again and again and again. Human men could come 2-5 times a day but what were limitations like those in a place that simply didn’t have time? 

Horangi tried to keep count, but the effort it took to do so was simply too much. All he could do was feel. His sensitive only increased until it was an exquisite type of torture. Every touch, every thrust, every time it felt like Horangi would finally break from it all, he’d sob and beg for something. 

“What do you want?” König asked gently, a harsh juxtaposition to the brutal way he was treating Horangi’s body. Cock slamming right into him and tentacles and claws alike digging into him to keep him in prime position.

Horangi considered it. This was a way out. There wasn’t even a caveat. Somehow, they both knew the game was over. Horangi could go home if he asked.

“Keep going.” 

König had zero clue exactly how long in any universe that stayed there. Even after he had finally gotten his fill of Horangi’s fluttering body, he kept him to his chest and still filled. Horangi was dead to the world, limp and twitching from after shocks. With a snap, they were clean, but Horangi stayed bruised and a touch sweaty. It was a good look on him. 

“How about we call it a tie and have a rematch later?” Horangi wheezed out, still visibly out of breath and spent.

König hummed. “I never did get to use my tongue.”

[indie-fanfics]

Pondering J Oneshot

CW Mentions of death and body horror, Standard MD stuff

J stared out. Out at the cold, barren landscape of Copper 9. She stared out, thinking. She was doing more of that lately. Especially about the past. She normally refused to think about back then. What was the point? But now, there wasn't much else to think about. Her and "Tessa" were on the down low, trying to figure out where the cabin fever labs were hidden. And she'd done enough thinking about that, about "Tessa" and her orders. "Tessa," yeah right. J knew it was Cyn, she'd known for years at this point. The horrible little thing kept her believing, hoping, praying even that Tessa was still alive and that's who J was communicating with over the relays. But eventually, as the little things added up and the contradictions complied on themselves like a pile of bounced checks, things clicked for J. She spent weeks agonizing over what she would do, even to the point where V started to get suspicious. In the end, it didn't even matter. Cyn didn't care, it only threatened to do anything if J told the others, and only because that could serve as a memory trigger. And while N had no memories of before. V had just enough to keep her loyal. She paused in her thoughts for a moment, glancing around the perimeter for any potential threats and checking her oil level. She'd need to feed in a few hours. There was only strong winds around her, blowing her hair every which way. J took a few deep breathes before going back to her thoughts. V, poor unsuspecting V. She remembered only a few things from Earth, mainly their time as worker drones and Cyn's "promise," honestly it was a lot more of a threat. But all V focused on was making sure things didn't get worse. N didn't know anything, of course, the idiot would just try to find some stupid way of fixing things that would only cost them time and Cyn's patience. J would know, after all. This was the second exo-planet they had been sent too, the first being somewhat of a test run for Cyn to train her little puppets. Both N and V had near equal memories of earth, minus the killing Cyn had them do when it destroyed the planet. It was a relatively barren planet when they got there, having been one of the first planets and mined almost entirely bare. Full of older drone models too. Programed, like almost all drones, with little sense of self-preservation. It was easy to take out almost all of them, as well as the few humans there that were managing the drones. However, the memories soon started to get to the other two. N became somewhat obsessive with getting back to Earth, wanting to help save Tessa and defeat Cyn. Still naive and stupid as ever. V backed him up on that, surprisingly, but was smart enough to agree that they should at least pretend to follow orders. J rolled her eyes at their plan, but a seed of hope remained that she couldn't quite kill. Cyn, however, found out, turned out the thing was able to listen in on them while they talked. It took control of N and broke his body open from the inside as the Cyn-controlled core forced it's way out, using the material of his corpse to create the an eldritch monster. It forced J to watch as it killed V. Saying that the she should see what happens when the job isn't done right. J still saw those memories whenever she went to sleep. Maybe it was Cyn, maybe it was her guilty conscience. Not like she knew either way. J had to watch as her friends coworkers were killed in front of her. She had to watch what happened when she didn't take control of her team and force them to follow orders. She wasn't going to let that happen again. Every time they tried something, it failed. Every time they failed, they were punished. Every time J didn't do what she was told, she was punished. She didn't care if Cyn tricked her at this point, it was too late for her to try to switch sides again. She was done.

[thewertsearch]

Asks Comp 5/6

Just like John Cusack, hoo hoo hoo is a universal constant.

I was so excited for her conversations :( And thank you very much! This comic's a slippery one, but that's part of the fun!

I do like the idea of pairing every Homestuck ship with a political ideology. It'd be the perfect storm of discourse, from about five directions at once!

Thank you! I don't think I'll even be in the country for my birthday this time around, so it'll be a quiet celebration.

I think it could still fit as a kismesissitude, even if they aren't all that unfriendly with each other. After all, Karkat's antagonism towards John is only skin-deep, and wears off fast.

FEFERI: There's no reason to be scared! They are not as terrible as they look. FEFERI: When Derse is destroyed, I am going to go to sleep and prove it. FEFERI: I will prove it to you, and to them as well. KARKAT: THEM? FEFERI: Our new friends! [...]

Oh, that does make more sense. Dang, I really liked the idea that the Horrorterrors were scared of Players.

Karkat made S-Tier for a reason. He's on fire this Act, and it's been great to watch!

You don't even get to examine your surroundings!!

I'm even more glad now that I'm using Homestuck Collection. It's clear that I'd have missed a lot without it, and it's a sad state of affairs that the comic's official website seems to butcher it so badly. Definitely recommend checking out the Collection, if just to play the walkarounds yourself!

Underutilized aspects of the trolls: Feferi Edition! [...] I do have to say that, when I think about her, I don't generally remember the Horrorterror connection. But Gl'bgolyb is a Horrorterror, after all. Feferi may be legitimately bubbly and sweet, but of the two races she is meant to unite, it might just be the Horrors and Humans. She's an eldritch Disney princess. Remember that now. ~LOSS (19/5/23)

Does that make Gl'bgolyb her Fairy Elder Godmother?

Ugh, tell me about it. It looks normal when the post is in my drafts, but breaks when I publish it.

I could go back and fix each post manually, but I don't have the time or the patience. Maybe I'll write a script to do it when I release Wertsearch: The Director's Cut.

Thanks! I've had Cat send a transcript over, and I've been copying it for quotes. There was a risk of mild spoilers if I accidentally read ahead, but if it means I can stop quoting entire conversations manually, I'll happily take that chance.

Damn it! There goes my Sollux Was Swapped At Birth theory.

I like these ideas! It's fun to speculate about what our species 'thing' would be, since we don't have any alien species to compare ourselves to IRL.

The idea of NPCs as Player templates is awesome, too. That implies an absolutely wild session in Sburb's past, featuring the Sleuths, the Midnight Crew and the Exile squad as Players.

What would Sburb even look like without Carapacians? Would the chess match in Skaia still exist, just without sentient pieces? I kind of love this idea.

Yeah, it's always nice when a story's really kicked into gear.

Beginnings and endings are difficult, and I usually enjoy the middle of a story more than either. By my count, we're about one-third of the way through Homestuck, and it's definitely found itself.

Thanks! I have a couple of ideas about which of my ships will be supported by canon, and which won't - but we shall see what develops. The comic might surprise me!

Canon Equius design.

It's a big question, and I don't know if I can fully answer this one, given how much of Sburb is still shrouded in mystery.

That said, the first thing I'd change is how Players are assigned. Instead of creating people who have no choice but to participate, I'd look for volunteers in the planets I've seeded. If Players have to be born in the Veil, then those volunteers would have their timelines rewritten, retroactively turning them into meteor babies - but only after they've volunteered for the role.

Also - does a session have to destroy the planet it's seeded on? If it was me in charge, I'd redirect the Reckoning's portals somewhere else. Literally anywhere else, actually. As far as I can tell, the only reason they were pointed towards Earth in the first place was for thematic reasons. The Sallyverse has different themes.

Yep. No special reason why - I've just been pretty busy lately, especially on the weekends. They've also been rolling over onto Mondays more often, too.

I get to 'em when I get to 'em - but I always get to them in the end.

Ooh, that's a deep cut. Possibly coincidental, but I wouldn't be too sure - I wouldn't put anything past Hussie.

I've heard of Higurashi, but I know very little about it. It is my tenuous understanding that it's a murder mystery starring several wealthy families - or is that its sister story, Umineko?

I don't want to look them up, because I might actually check them out at some point, and it is apparently very important to go in unspoiled. Potential future liveblog material, indeed.

I've speculated that the Knight is a protector class - and maybe Knights also protect themselves, hiding behind a particular trait or emotion which serves as their 'shield'.

Puréed puppet, unfortunately.

Now that I've seen all the troll typing quirks, I'm pretty sure I've actually encountered some of these people in the wild! I've definitely seen Terezi's leetspeak, or something very similar, on an anime forum or two.

[velvet-vox]

The dark side of Steampunk: Nox (Part 2)

Milien spent the entire night obsessively analysing the artifact, instead of sleeping with his wife, and in the morning, he was forced to face the consequences.

Fully immersed by the possibilities given to him by the Cube, Milien is already at work to capitalise on them in order to get out of the vicious cycle he's gotten into by borrowing money to keep himself afloat.

Here's where the milk gets finally spilled and the truth starts to knock on the door. Milien's ego, up to this point, was only the fruit of an inferiority complex set by the inability of his inventions to catch popularity; but now, it's finally revealed that Nox's obsession for the cube and it's constant need for validation from his family is also a result of Milien's antisocial behaviour probably rooted from a societal lack of care for individuality and creativity.

Ironic, since, by this very statement, Nox undermines other people's individuality and creativity to place his own higher. This is a major extreme of Steampunk, when either the society or the industry reigns over the other, the outcome can only be disastrous, as true balance can only be found when the two sides support and complement each other.

This isn't too much of a major flaw for Milien, as long as it gets addressed, it's pretty common for his archetype and it's often overcome by the end of the story.

Ah. S##t. He doesn't overcome it.

These GIFs speak for themselves; the ego boost given to him by the artifact allows for the insanity to take place, even his wife, who he has been shown capable of repressing his negative traits for, can't calm him down anymore; the next time she visits him, Galanthe tries to get Milien to throw away the Cube and go back to his family, but in response, Nox shuts her out of the door, since what she is suggesting would rekindle his inferiority complex and bring him back to square one.

Briefly touching on this particular moment, Noximilien knows the Cube's real name, despite the fact that he apparently shouldn't know what it was right until his confrontation with Grougaloragran 200 years later.

It could just be a continuity error, but I want to give tot the benefit of the doubt this time and assume it's instead intentional; back when we had only season 1, the Eliacube was this mysterious, corrupting entity whose origins were never made fully clear. So, for us to not be able to find any sense behind this discovery of his, leads us to be unnerved by the eldritch horror vibes that were originally backed into the Eliacube's concept.

As time goes by, Galanthe decides to take away her family from her husband, in hope that this will force him to get rid of the Eliacube and go back to them.

And for a brief moment, her plan almost works. Milien is taking the situation seriously, and it's about to abandon everything to go join his wife, but then... Nox doesn't.

I don't really know the meaning behind that owl shot with one weird eye, but by judging the fact that the very next shot is Noximilien's laboratory emitting smog into the air, I'll interpret it as a metaphor for pollution brought by the industrialization of Nox's operation, mindlessly destroying the planet without a person's notice.

I really like how the ticking sound of clocks gets faster before turning into knocks at the door, it makes it feel like an unfathomable amount of time has passed.

As for the reason why the beggar decides to check up on Nox and inform him of his family, I've actually come up with a way better explanation than just simply "the beggar was actually a good person, just a little short tempered and grumpy", which works well enough, but it could be much more compelling;

You see, in the previous part I've said that the beggar is the representation of the strict Victorian society and Milien the freeing Industrial revolution, their clash and tension is what gives Steampunk its meaning and charm; so here, it's almost like the beggar is saying "Bro, WTF? Shouldn't we clash against each other? I haven't seen you in months? What happened?" since, if the clockmaker doesn't want to free himself from the claustrophobic expectations of society, then... what is his purpose in the narrative?

As the rage, regret, and madness of the ensuing moment unfolds, the Steampunk narrative is completely shattered:

No longer Noxy wants to advance society to the next level of evolution; now, he just wants to bring everything back to how it was.

No longer Nox is going to use his inventions to bring wonder and joy to the world; now, he's going to use them to destroy lives in order to restore his own.

Steampunk is dead, and its rotting corpse is now being used as a vessel for the Eldritch Horror narrative that is about to ensure.

Milien is dead; a legend is born.

A terror is born.

NOX.

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[monkeymindscream]

I feel like hopefully stirring up a discussion/inspiring people to share their own thoughts, so have some headcanons I have regarding the Krangs' fucked-up society/biology/etc:

—The Krang as we see them are basically a space-parasite that glommed onto the utrom species. The utrom scientists of yore poked Dimension X too hard (the dimension just past the prison dimension and right before the nothingness that sits at the center of all realities), and accidentally unleashed the eldritch horrors that existed within. i.e. The aforementioned parasites. The utrom ended up being completely overtaken, cordyceps-and-ants style, and countless lives across the galaxy were destroyed as a result of them not leaving well enough alone. Nice work, ya chucklefucks.

—Krang morality is… weird. They do understand there’s a separation between right and wrong, and as a group they tend to try to stick to the “right” side of the equation. And despite being just a shade away from being a hivemind, they can even have individual moral codes about what they personally view as acceptable and reprehensible.

It’s just that unfortunately, their definition of “right vs. wrong” is very different from the rest of the universe. That whole “we’re stronger which means we know better than everyone else” mentality.

—They genuinely think they’re helping when they assimilate planets. Uno wasn’t spouting bullshit when he declared “I am saving this WEAK planet!” Because, really, why would he bother to bullshit at that point? He’d thought his victory was assured, and that Leo would either die at Raph’s hand or be beaten down enough to get krangified himself. Why bother making that statement if he didn’t 100% believe it?

As far as the Krang see it, they are the strongest beings in existence. Only the strong deserve to live. By assimilating other lifeforms, they’re gifting them the strength of the Krang, essentially granting them the right to life. There’s a reason Uno described their goals as a “crusade.” If any other Krang had been around to hear him say he was “saving” earth, they’d have agreed wholeheartedly.

(The “I am a gift!” –line would’ve elicited some eyerolls, though. Not that he’d have cared – as far as he’s concerned he’s just stating the facts, but anyway.)

—What we saw of Earth’s invasion – both in the snippet of the future and present-day events – was far, far more violent and cruel than how Krang invasions typically go. (Example: At one point Casey mentions a “Krang labor camp.” Which, considering they have the ability to krangify whoever/WHATever they want, the Krang shouldn’t logically have a need for a labor camp. They made one anyway.) This is for two reasons:

First, there were only three true Krang doing the invading. We see mechsuits marching around in the future, sure, but we don’t actually see any Krang inside them. This is because it’s just empty tech the sibs built to enforce their will/probably just to deal with the tech Donnie built to combat them. Since the sibs couldn’t rely on numbers to take out their enemies cleanly, they had to utilize brute-force and make things messy.

Second, Uno says, and I quote: “The people of this planet will pay for what they’ve done to me.” The assimilation of earth was personal. He (+his siblings, I can only imagine) were fucking pissed, and putting the hurt on the creatures who took down his entire species was just as much the goal as conquering them was.

—Absolutely none of the chemicals that help determine humans’ emotions can be found in any of the Krang. As such, certain earthling emotional responses are literally beyond their comprehension when they’re functioning how they’re supposed to. They don’t feel anxiety, for example. They can feel fear, but there needs to be immediate danger present for them to get to that point. Which, considering their whole “strength is the end-all-be-all; the weak can get fucked” mentality, isn’t exactly something they would openly indulge in anyway, but you get it. In fact, most emotional responses besides all-out rage are considered the Krang equivalent of going clinically insane in their society. 

(Like with humans who’ve been driven insane, these responses are usually brought on by trauma.)

—Bouncing off of this, they’re mostly incapable of feeling empathy or compassion. Not entirely, granted, but it’s essentially only towards members of the little packs they’ll form amongst themselves, and even then there’s limits. Frankly, if they start to exhibit too much of either, they’d be placed into the same “insane” classification above. Too much empathy/compassion will inevitably endanger the Krangs’ collective mission, so more often than not offenders are put down rather quickly.

Note: I really need to emphasize that instances of the above (Krang feeling empathy or compassion/displaying extreme emotional responses that aren’t rage) are not ever a “ooh this individual from an Always Evil species saw the light and now they’re a good guy!” –situation. Krang who end up like this tend to be extremely erratic, and not particularly lucid. Their brains are not functioning the way they’re supposed to if they gain access to this spectrum of emotions, and it’s abundantly obvious. When I say these things qualify them as being insane, I mean it. 

—Krang do actually place importance on familial bonds, it’s just that said bonds aren’t usually based on any kind of genetic connection. Krang “siblings,” for example, are overwhelmingly not related in the slightest, and are completely family of choice. The deciding factors between becoming siblings versus just being comrades is that in addition to just being a pragmatic alliance, they actually like each other.

—It’s genetically impossible for Krangs to become inbred or suffer any kind of defects based on the relations of their parents, which plays a part in them not really needing to keep track of who they share genetic material with. (Krang tend to scatter and not really interact with any of their wombmates after being born - think fish or bugs.) Hilariously, though, mating with their chosen siblings is just as much of a taboo for them as sleeping with genetic siblings is for humans. Most would be utterly disgusted at the very suggestion. There is very little in common between human and Krang morality, but that’s one of the few places they overlap.

—Romantic connections are much rarer than the sibling packs they form, but not unheard of. Generally speaking, Krang usually just pair off with the most pragmatic match available during their mating period, and then don’t care if they never see each other again. But it’s perfectly possible for them to form a bond with one partner in particular, integrate them into whatever group they may currently be a part of, and then default to them during the mating period.

(The Krang: The only species where “You’re my default” is actually an incredibly romantic thing to say to your partner.)

—The Krang are hermaphrodites, capable of either inseminating or becoming pregnant depending on the situation. There are differences between males and females, just none involving reproductive organs: Females have heightened reflexes, males have a thicker hide (females have eight layers of skin, males have twelve). Baby Krang, being born fully cognizant (if much smaller and maybe a bit more naive than the adults), need to decide what their sex is the second they pop out, and are then responsible for producing the proper chemicals until they hit puberty to ensure their chosen sex. 

(Note: Attempting to produce all the chemicals to try to get the benefits of both sexes will result in the Krang-equivalent of an autoimmune disease. This is highly unrecommended for this reason.)

—Tying in with the above, Krangs’ collective idea of “gender” boils down to like. Stats basically. Did you opt for speed or durability? Masculinity and femininity are completely foreign (and useless) concepts to them.

—The Krang mating process is a combination of several animals I’ve read about. They all have a hectocotylus tentacle (the middle one on their right sides, if you’re wondering), which one partner will remove and present to the mate they’ve decided will carry the new Krang. The babies gestate (Krang will carry between about 50-70 palm-sized spawn at a time), and then when the time is right the kids will eat their way out of their parent. Krang are a lot spongier than most species, so unless things go horribly wrong they’ll survive giving birth, but it’s every bit as agonizing as you’d expect it to be.

—When mating, it's the Krang who’s deemed the stronger of the pair who gets the privilege of carrying the children, considering how violent the birthing process is. Which like, that’s rough buddy, but eh I mean tradeoff they’re also the only ones who actually get any kind of pleasure from the process? Krangs’ hectocotylus tentacles are numb (and y’know. Not attached to the owners body by that point in the event) so it’s not like the ones donating are having any fun...

—There’s four different kinds of Krang within the species: Makers, Interrogators, Assimilators, and Footsoldiers, all categorized by the unique abilities they do or don’t have. 

Makers are known for their ability to infuse the essence/power of the Krang into things. Think the flawless synchronization the three Krang we see have with their mechsuits, or hell – the Dark Armor. All made by maker-Krang.

Interrogators are characterized by their ability to literally burrow into people’s minds to collect information. We all saw how that worked. 

Assimilators are the ones capturing things in meat vines and turning them into mindless zombies for the Krang cause. They differ from Makers in that, while their control is fairly superficial, all things considered, they can take control of near anything. It’s ultimately irrelevant whether they're controlling a living person or an inanimate object (like a friggin train, as we saw in the movie), but their powers are noticeably more effective on living organisms. Makers, though their connection/control of what they infuse Krang energy to is close to absolute, can only do this with nonliving items. Which then drain the lifeforce/essence/souls of any non-Krang lifeforms who were unfortunate/stupid enough to try to control them.

Footsoldiers are defined by the fact that they don’t have any special abilities. Two’s a Footsoldier, and this is actually why she’s so fuckin feral with “no character development.” It was either prove she was strong by constantly being the craziest motherfucker in the room, or slip down to the bottom of the barrel.

—Despite what you might think based on the clear lines being drawn amongst “types,” there’s no caste system in place. They value strength above all else, which could come from any type. (It’s just that unfortunately for Two, it’s a lot harder for Footsoldiers to prove their strength than the other three.)

—It’s not uncommon for Krang to keep “pets” of some of the species they assimilate. They can grow just as attached to their pets as they would towards any of their siblings/defaults, it’s just that unfortunately everything said pet used to be before getting Krangified tends to get wiped clean. If Leo hadn’t shown up to rescue him, Raph had been on his way to becoming Uno’s new pet.

—Two words: Environmental mimicry.

Prior to being infected by the Krang parasite, utrom were an aquatic species (amphibious technically, but semantics). They had a number of things in common with a variety of earthen cephalopods, octopi in particular. Octopi are really, really good at blending in with their environments, and can do everything from changing color to changing their texture. Utrom had a similar ability. Not so much to blend in with their physical environments, granted (though they could do that too), but blending in with other species. In short, they can shapeshift without a cloaking brooch. 

This is very much a forgotten skill amongst the Krang, or at the very least no living Krang knows of it. Which, yeah, sample size of three, but the point stands. Krang are infinitely more aggressive than utrom were, and as such tend to (literally) tackle problems/adversaries head-on. They’ve had no need to disguise themselves for millennia, so over the years they collectively forgot they even could. Still, it remains something within the scope of their abilities, even if they never make use of it.

—Krang secrete mucus when stressed. Leo refers to the Krang as “slimeballs” in the movie, they're not actually all that slimy. Because looking at it from a biological standpoint, the reason why creatures are “slimy” (think amphibians and worms), is because their skin needs to be wet for them to absorb oxygen. The Krang, being aliens, might not even need oxygen, or if they do I question whether they’d process it the same as earth creatures. So there wouldn’t really be a need for them to be slimy 24/7. Instead, it's reserved for situations where they're in some form of distress. It makes them more difficult to grab in a potentially deadly situation, see, since Krang are most likely to feel stressed when faced with someone stronger who has murder on their mind.

[romaritimeharbor]

On the top of Lan, I believe The Hunt is meant to act as a sort of... "filtration system", a means of making sure that things with the Abundance. Because take this into account, data entries seems to imply that Yaoshi is quite "charitable" when it comes to who they gift immortality upon. Obviously, not everyone is a paragon of virtue, so obviously there will be those who utilize their newfound eternal life for nefarious purpose, and so there needs to be something to counteract this sort issue. I have a theory that the Destruction was originally meant to act as a foil to keep the Propagation in check. Like, the timeline of when the Aeons all ascended is rather vague and a bit convoluted. But we know these things for certain:

Lan ascended a good amount of time after Yaoshi, sort of in response to the chaos weaved amongst the Xianzhou by the Mara.

And

Though they ascended within a very close period time, we know that Nanook ascended after Tayzzyronth. And they ascended because of the destruction of Advilun, their homeworld, at the hands of Tayzzyronth's own creation(s?): the Swarm disaster.

There's just one big difference between these two though. Yaoshi still exists, and eternally they are pursued by Lan yet, purging the horrors they (intentionally or unintentionally) leave in their wake. Tayzzyronth meanwhile was only an Aeon for a short time, until they were eventually cornered and brought down through the combined efforts of several other aeons. Now, the Swarm lacks any true cohesion it once had. And Nanook, now without the thing they were meant to counteract, terrorizes the universe, causing wanton destruction where ever they go.

Ooooh, Toast's OC planet idea is quite fascinating. I could definitely see Dan Heng's own biases regarding the Abundance (for some reason I nearly said "the Abyss" 💀), especially considering how his home... uh.... world? Ship? Was nearly destroyed when the power of the Abundance was used to revive an Emanator... well he's gonna be kinda... tense, don't'cha think? You (I refer to Toast) seem like you had a lotta fun coming up with this! And I can 100% relate (I've got couple of my own HSR planets :D. It's actually a super fun to work on!)

Oh, and one other thing!

Found this really cute video of someone animating that one scene with Shenhe during the Xianyun Companion Quest!

https://youtu.be/SACBEmxlV6w?si=mDp30XzcXZgnD5UF

that is very much true! as much as i bully lan, i know very well the purpose that they serve, the purpose their path serves, and i know their existence is.... existing to keep yaoshi in check. if they didn't, the universe would be crazy overrun by their creations. yaoshi is implied to be very. Uh. WILLING to throw around their blessings (which is so funny. this eldritch ass god is just like "you get immortality, you get immortality, everyone gets immortality!!!!!!" i love them). so lan's existence is pretty crucial in maintaining SOME kind of balance.

the destruction ascending to keep the propagation in check is SUCH a fascinating idea. we do, of course, know that nanook is the most recently ascended of the aeons, but we have NOOOO idea what "recently" means. it stands to reason, then, that nanook very well could have ascended to keep the propagation (I CAN'T SPELL THEIR NAME..........) in check. but of course, the other aeons took that matter into their own hands. something similar would probably happen to lan too if the other aeons... erm. Removed yaoshi. but they haven't, presumably because yaoshi does not misbehave THAT severely, and there is someone actively keeping them and their creations in check. anyways, assuming that nanook's purpose WAS that, then it sort of makes sense why they're just.... destroying senselessly now. but i can't help but wonder if a similar situation, like what happened with the propagation, will occur with them? when is it too much? when will, when might nanook become to great a risk to the universe? is there anything keeping them in check? we could say yaoshi, but we don't know enough about them to make that claim. they seem to live largely by their own agenda.

OWWWJSJSHSJSH I LOVE THAT SCENE!!!!! SHE IS SUCH AN EMOTIONAL MOTHER!!!!!

[lividria]

Story Idea: Alien Exorcist

Had this idea a bit ago trying to make up Pikmin lore of all things, and wanted to write it only to realize I probably won't, so I'm just putting this out here either for someone to steal (feel free, just @ me if you go anywhere with it lol) or somehow motivate me to finish it or what

I never fleshed it out too much but the idea was that humanity colonized space and the other planet's civilizations gradually evolved to be more like humanoid aliens than identifiably human, meanwhile some catastrophe wiped all people out on their homeworld which is still earth, but several became ghosts because they were not ok with this and refused to move on, so now an exorcist from another planet who's been arrested is sent to earth in exile and decides to exorcise all the ghosts to put humanity to rest

because this idea traces back to me figuring out what the story behind the wraith bosses in pikmin could be, instead of it being regular ghosts (which would've been boring anyways) they're more like ethereal entities themed around something tied to their past life, which goes from the obvious things like a gardener becoming some kind of plant spirit to a quantum physicist becoming some sort of eldritch horror and affront to the laws of physics that's probably having a ton of long-term ramifications (like somehow preventing the other ghosts from passing on? preserving earth enough to still have abandoned buildings resembling our own even if this'd have to be millions of years into the future?)

but since the idea was initially a book, i also had the idea that to flesh out the exorcist protagonist i never named in-between each regular chapter is a Negative Chapter, as in you go from chapter 1 to chapter -1 then to chapter 2 to chapter -2 and so on, that covers a random aspect of their past that brought them to this point, either leading up to their arrest or just defining moments of their life that made them the person they are now

the two specific ideas i had for their past was like some sort of demon thing latched onto the protagonist's sibling and somehow made them like the successful and most acknowledged and luckiest one of the two while the protagonist ate shit, and then their life gets completely destroyed when the protagonist exorcises the demon and they end up homeless and unemployed and probably die alone and depressed, and the reason that the exorcist got arrested in the first place is because they were working in a mental hospital and this one old man asked the protagonist to exorcise his soul from his own body and the protagonist just kinda went with it to make him calm down but then he fucking died and it's never made clear if that was a coincidence or not but the authorities assume foul play (thinking about it now that's kinda dumb)

no I didn't figure out the protagonist's personality and what I did try and make their shtick I realized would've been profoundly annoying and unlikable to deal with for an entire story, especially because they were the first-person narrator, and they weren't meant to be unlikable or annoying, so I won't detail it because I don't want anyone to go through trying to make it work when it doesn't lol

I have a ton of random ideas like this so if anybody cares for this I'll throw more out, I have enough story ideas for an entire career if I could bring myself to write a book lol

[fleetsonourgecentral]

How do you think Fleetway and Scourge would react to meeting Sonic Exe? How would STC!Sonic react to Sonic Exe??

Sonic.exe.... now that's a name I haven't heard in years.....

I'm honestly not super familiar with sonic.exe lore since I've only read the original creepypasta like once and watched a few people play through that first romhack a few times, so I'll just be going off what little I remember (and the knowledge that (and I say this with a level of affection) almost every creepypasta character is ridiculously op)

Sonic and Scourge would definitely be cocky af at first since they go into every fight expecting they'll win, and Sonic is more than a little exasperated bc he's dealing with yet another fucking lookalike. But considering Exe is, as previously stated, an op creepypasta, if it came down to a fight they'd probably get their asses kicked. They're good, but probably not that good considering all the power Exe has at his disposal. Once they realise just how powerful this fucker is, they're like "oh shit wtf do we do"

Super on the other hand. Oh boy.

Idk if Exe was inspired by Fleetway's Super Sonic, but I do see a lot of similarities in them and their power levels. Like, Exe is some kinda eldritch horror I presume, and Super is made of chaos energy (corrupted chaos energy even, if we go by my headcanon). These bitches ain't normal and their powers and abilities go far beyond a normal mobian's. If it came down to a fight, I imagine they'd be pretty evenly matched. A winner would be hard to determine though bc they'd probably destroy the damn universe before they get to finish the fight

As for his reaction, it depends where in Super's arc Exe shows up. If it's when he's lost his memories and is a pacifist, he'd probably be fucking petrified. Not only is Exe terrifying for normal people anyway, Super has the added baggage of Exe's power reminding him of his own destructive side. He'd see the worst of himself in Exe, and it would terrify him

Maybe if things got bad he'd try to fight back because he knows his power is incredibly strong and might stand a chance against him, and he'd just hope he can stay in control, but that... probably wouldn't go well, as we saw in the comic when he tried to use his powers for good

Now if Exe showed up during any other point in Super's arc? Different story. When he's evil Super doesn't give a fuck about anyone or anything except causing havoc and destruction. It's the nature of the corrupted chaos energy he's made of. If Exe showed up out of the blue and started fucking shit up, he'd only see a challenge and, like any Sonic, would be ecstatic about it. Finally, someone who can match his power level, it will be fun to be forced to actually put in effort for once. Makes his inevitable win even more satisfying, when the light and hope slowly drains from this new guy's eyes as he realises he's been bested

At worst, he might get a little pissed that Exe is the one doing all the damage. Not because he cares about the planet or its people, but because he wants to be the one to destroy it. Probably a similar story if Exe killed Sonic; he feels it's his right to kill Sonic, and he doesn't want to share

I see a few people talk about the possibility of an alliance between the two, and that would definitely cause unbelievable amounts of destruction like holy hell they would be an unstoppable force together, but personally, I think Super is too selfish to ever consider such a thing. He's not interested in anything but destruction, and since he comes from Sonic's rude and selfish ass, he's not interested in sharing the fun

Basically, if he's in a good mood, Exe is a fun challenge. If he's in a bad mood, Exe is in his way and stealing his fun. Either way, if he's evil it's coming down to a fight, and unless they're stopped somehow (good fucking luck finding a way to do that) they'll take the whole dimension down with them. As I said, a winner would be hard to determine (since they both believe they're stronger and will be the inevitable winner, so they both believe they'll get to watch the other's face fall when they realise they're no longer the strongest being around) and even if someone did win, well, there'd be no one around to witness it

Actually, there's a really good video on YouTube that I love that pretty much shows how I think a fight between them might go (although again I'm not up to date with sonic.exe lore so idk how accurate the video is to his powers)

[nyaagolor]

may we please get the mirror world headcanons?

heck yes u may

Most of it will be under the cut bc I talk a lot

I like to think the Mirror World is a reflection of the regular world (I call it Prime World for convenience's sake), and by reflection I mean opposite. It's not opposite in a "good v evil" way, just in the sense that a mirror world counterpart is the inverse of their prime world self, for better or for worse. For example, Noddies in Prime World sleep for most of their lives, while Mirror Noddies barely ever sleep and are constantly alert. Instead of a Sleep Ability, they give Panic, aka the Kirby equivalent of slurping down 15 espresso shots in a row. The mirror world counterparts are no better or worse than the prime world, just different!

Headcanons for all the mirror world counterparts of the Star Allies (or at least the ones I've thought abt) are under the cut :3c

Shadow Kirby (Skirby): Where Prime Kirby is reckless, bold, and overconfident, Skirby is reserved, cautious, and kinda pessimistic. They're no weaker or meaner than Prime Kirby, but seem a bit shy and non-confrontational because they always want to scope out the scene before they launch into anything. Some might call it cowardly, but Skirby thinks it's pragmatic. Much like prime Kirby, though, he's the hero of Popstar and is usually the planet's last defense against whatever eldritch horror comes their way. He deserves a break, though, since unlike Prime Kirby he's not surrounded by friends to help him out

Shadow Dedede (SDDD): He started off as a good king, always being diligent, professional, and responsible in contrast to Prime DDD's self-serving, goofy ways. He wanted what was best for the mirror world, but life didn’t make it easy. The mirror dees, rather than the loyal helpers we know from the prime world, were backstabbing jerks who were loyal to no one but themselves. SDDD tried so hard to be a good king, but had no one to help, no one to pull him out of a slump, so he just slipped through the cracks and got worse. Bitterness and anger consumed him until he started looking out for himself and himself only. He became a tyrant, turning into an iron-fisted, merciless ruler whose laws were enforced through violence. DDD got better with the help of his friends, but SDDD got much, MUCH worse as a result of his isolation and loneliness. Also he has a battle axe instead of a hammer bc I think it's cool

Dark Meta Knight (DMK): He's basically the antithesis of a knight: he's willing to work for anyone no matter how rotten they are; he always plans on backstabbing them later, cares about no one but himself, never plays fair, and is a lazy, rude jerk. He likes spicy foods instead of sweets, challenges children to duels WITHOUT offering them a sword first, and is deathly afraid of heights, despite having wings. He was in the process of creating a land-razing tank called the Halberd, but his crew betrayed him and cut up his wings and mask so now he isolates himself out of anger and fear. After being with the Star Allies, he's made some friends and realized the value of teamwork-- also he likes teaching Adeleine swears. With Dark Mind gone and the Mirror World still a bit of a dump, DMK would much rather hang out in the prime world and get on Meta Knight's nerves. He tries his best to protect the two (2) people in the mirror world he does tolerate, though (it's skirby and sddd).

Mirror Bandee: Hates SDDD with a passion. In fact, he's attempted to assassinate the king at least 26 times, but fails both because SDDD is way smarter than him and also Mirror Bandee is a sniveling coward who runs at the first sign of danger. His repeated failures have made him more of a scaredy cat, so no one takes him seriously anymore. He has a knife and ties his bandana around his "mouth" like a scarf, but it doesn't help to make him more intimidating. His repeated attempts to kill the king (and more recently Skirby and DMK, who hang out with SDDD) have become a constant in their lives and weirdly enough they don't mind his company.

Mirror Marx: I always assumed that Prime Marx was a noddy with Mirror instead of sleep. Well Mirror Marx is the opposite-- instead of having Panic like the regular hyperactive Mirror Noddies, he has sleep. He didn't show up for the events of Amazing Mirror bc he was snoozin. Because of this, he never got the Nova's powers, never tricked skirby, and never did anything evil. In fact, unlike Prime Marx, Mirror Marx cares too much about everyone's feelings, is always kind, and doesn't have a mean bone in his body. He's the glue holding the mirror world together bc not even the worst of villains want to hurt him. He's just so darn CUTE

Mirror Animal Friends: Imagine the animal friends. Give them angry expressions and sunglasses. Now make them part of a gang. Yeah that's it. The Animals are no friend of skirby's and would sooner maul the poor kid than ever lend him a paw (or flipper or wing). The forest bows to their whims and they rule it like your typical mafia boss. They're jerks.

Mirror Daroach: See these posts.

Dark Taranza: Hoo BOY he's bad. He's real bad. He rules over Mirror Floralia (Sporalia?) which is underground and filled with nasty creepy crawlies. He hates getting his hands dirty and will do anything it takes to get more power and luxury so long as he doesn't have to put himself in danger. He only cares about one thing, and that's himself. What about Queen Sectonia, you ask? She was the original queen of Mirror Floralia, but Dark Taranza mind-controlled her into his puppet to do his bidding. When the people finally snapped and declared war on the tyrannical queen, it was her they shattered, being none the wiser that Dark Taranza was the one pulling the strings. He still has a box of her shards in his castle, just in case he needs a new puppet to play with. He loves jewels and machines, all things inorganic. The imperfections of flowers? Not his style.

Mirror Magolor: Quick tangent here: Mirror Lor Starcutter, rather than being a ship to BRING people to paradise, is a sort of pocket paradise, a little virtual reality magic... thing. It can also be easily modified to only open from the outside. That's important for later. Anyway, Mirror Magolor is brutally honest, but also rude, unfriendly, impulsive, and incredibly violent. He hates machines and will start punching a lamppost if he accidentally walks into it. Scrappy little dude. He would actually rather claw his ears off than be friends with another living being. He just likes brawling and destroying ancient artifacts and that's it. Well one day he tells the mirror crew he wants to go get this thing called the Master Crown so he can destroy it. SDDD, Skirby, Mirror Bandee and DMK realize hey, that'd be nice for us to have, let's join him and then betray him at the last minute. As soon as they get there, though, the crown ends up choosing Mirror Mags as a host before anyone can do anything. Oops! The others manage to shatter him... but then the crown pulls his shards back together and attacks them again. Realizing he's both totally lost it and also immortal, the others lock Mirror Mags inside the Lor as the crown erodes the last of his humanity. Consumed by blind rage and the crown's power, Mirror Magolor just lashes out at anything that moves, biting and clawing at whatever he can reach like a feral cat. There's like a 80% chance he has rabies.

Sorry to Susie, Gooey, Adeleine, and all the non-Star Allies crew, I haven't thought abt them yet

[spooky-activity]

Just a little update on Cassandratopia 2: Electric Boogaloo (Or as it stands in my Google Docs folder rn, A Helping Hand). I’ll put it under the cut cuz it’s kinda long. 

I just wanted to say that I’m still planning on actually doing it, despite all evidence to the contrary lol 

I did Cassandratopia in a haze of graduating from college(where I was studying animation) and just having ended my first dnd campaign as a dungeon master (which went 3 years!). I was fishing around for internships, but since the pandemic had just kicked off I wasn’t having much luck. So I had a lot of creative energy that wasn’t getting channeled anywhere, and a lot of free time when I wasn’t applying to places. Which is how I did 4 pages a day several times per week. Which was insane. 

As it stands, I’m running 2 dnd campaigns(one meets weekly, the other every other week or so), and just scored a full-time internship at a video game company! The campaigns I’m running are a homebrew open world, which, for those of you who aren’t too familiar with dnd, is a metric fuckton of work to prep for each session because I have no idea what my insane friends and siblings are going to try and do every time we play. 

Anyways all this to say that my storytelling itch is kinda. Sufficiently getting scratched atm and I have a lot less free time. I’m still plucking away at the setting/refining the story of A Helping Hand, but it’s largely on the backburner. Cassandratopia was also, uh, like the first story I’ve ever told in any sort of format besides the give-and-take of dnd, so... I’m not used to having so much control over the narrative. Oddly. I’ve never thought of myself as much of a writer of stories; my main focus is character animation, so someone else is usually writing the stories I’m telling anyways, which is super cool with me. Honestly I’m surprising myself with how much I want to tell this story, which is why I’m still sure I’m doing it. Just. Slower. Than Cassandratopia got done. 

But I’ll share a bit of the lore I’ve been cooking up! Specifically about Zhan Tiri and The Drops. The story will be told in an extremely dnd type setting, because that’s the kind of narrative I’ve told before and am comfortable telling: hard magic rules, neat fights, scary monsters, a dash of eldritch horror, and huge emphasis being put on magical artifacts(kinda like in the show!). Here’s some stuff that’s basically locked-in. 

Zhan Tiri

Zhan Tiri is one of the many Demon Lords of the Abyss. She’s kind of a mashup of two of my favorite Demon Lords, Zuggtmoy, the Lady of Rot and Decay, and Pale Night, the Mother of Demons and Queen of the Night(with just a dash of Hannibal Lecter because who doesn’t like helpful, polite, manipulative-ass bitches lksjflkja;fj). Her domain sits almost exactly between the Sundrop and Moonstone, largely being the new growth that comes from death, and the endless cycle of life and death. Places where her influence is strongest includes the cracks in... Well anywhere really, from society to the planet’s shell, where metaphorical or physical rot could grow; musty, mostly ignored places where something could fester. Iconography related to her would include endless mazes, fungi, grasping skeletal hands, and rotting/blooming corpses. Her spores can animate corpses, which she likes to use as mindless minions when she doesn’t feel like sending one of her Acolytes. She shares a scrap of her power with those few mortals she likes. She appreciates ambition and the desire to Grow to be bigger than what you were to start with, as those are qualities she herself possesses. 

Incredibly intelligent and merciless to those she deems her enemies, her main thing is pulling the strings from the shadows and seeing just how far she can push people to act with as little prompting from her as possible. She does, however, have the power to kinda bulldoze her way through things if she needs to, but she doesn’t like to because where’s the fun in that? 

She first gained interest in the Material Plane when a Wizard with too much hubris from said Material Plane(Named Demanitus) contacted her trying to figure out more information about The Drops and how to control them. After indulging him for a bit, she started preparing to make a summer home on the Material Plane because it’s New and Fun here and Wow These Mortals are Really Fun to Mess With! And some of them she even genuinely liked! Demanitus then realized his mistake and locked her away in Pandemonium for what he hoped was forever, but turned out to be only around 1,000 years, due to the efforts of her followers. Her little stint in Pandemonium magnified the more... Chaotic aspects of her personality, so now she wants to cover the Material Plane in blooming mazes of fungal crops that she can break people with at her leisure. 

The Drops

The drops are two semi-sentient pieces of one original artifact, whose original purpose was to be a tool of creation for the gods. Which, through some great calamity(still deciding that one), got sundered and settled into the two basic aspects of creation: the nearly unlimited well of life-energy which organizes stardust into planets, cabbages, and kings, and the “you gotta crack a few eggs to get an omlette” destructive force which breaks down what the sundrop makes so that it can make more. 

The main goal of the drops is to reunite. I would want to as well if I was ripped in half! This manifests as a... General tug in the direction of the other drop. A desire in the host to Go That Way. It can be resisted, and even ignored for a bit, but it’s always there. Like being hungry if starving wasn’t a danger. Just a bit uncomfortable if you aren’t going That Way, but ignorable. 

Both drops generally try to be as helpful to their wielder as possible, as originally they were a tool of creation to the gods. They are innately obliging. They’re also REALLY UNSAFE FOR MORTALS TO BE MESSING WITH. The Sundrop is a little safer because the most it can do is kinda. Overcharge you into something distinctly not human but still alive, and King Fredrick was lucky he made the Sundrop into soup before giving it to Arianna. But King Edmund got his wholeass arm blasted off for touching the Moonstone. 

The Sundrop

Best I could whittle it down, the Sundrop has power over life energy, like the sun’s light. It also has power over the energy derived from geothermal activities, so deep sea creatures Are Not Immune To The Sundrop, which was a funny thought that crossed my mind that they could be, but that will likely never come up anyways salkdjf;ljsf It is, in its basest form, Growth and Progress. 

It’s a little sentient, but very much entrenches itself into whoever is holding it at the time. Like another mind looking through your eyes and seeing what you see/feeling what you feel while still retaining a bit of individuality from the host. It’s not... Parasitic because it’s in its nature to give, but it’s generally pretty firmly attached to whoever is holding it until they die( which isn’t usually for a WHILE. It ’infects’ a new host when one dies, usually a plant near their grave...) or until a solar eclipse. It wants what they want, but it’s very fussy so they have to ask it for power exactly correctly(like singing an incantation every time you want to heal someone, or doing a Ritual involving lots of very specific ingredients, Celestial Alignments, and Secret Words) or it won’t listen, like an orchid dying if the ph balance is off in the soil by a little bit. But it’s generally pretty intuitive to use, because it wants what you want and (as long as you ask right) is willing to help. 

Anyways basically under the influence of the Sundrop you get a few things: 

Basically limitless energy coursing through your body while you’re in a place with sunlight, which equates to rapid healing, mostly, because every cell in your body is being supercharged with free energy. Never getting exhausted in direct sunlight. (If Rapunzel lived in a place that was sunny 24/7 like near one of the poles she wouldn’t have to sleep like. until it started to get dark in the opposite half of the year. Then she’d have to sleep like a regular human being)

You stay at your prime, or if you are past it, revert to your prime. Someone who is holding the Sundrop, or who has regular access to the Sundrop’s magic can’t die of old age or illness. They have to be hurt beyond the Sundrop’s ability to heal or have it taken away from them. 

The ability to share this rapid healing with others (if you ask right)

The ability to freely draw on the raw, near-limitless energy of the sun to shape into things like cool-looking energy blasts (only if you ask right) 

The Moonstone

The moonstone has powers over varying levels of destruction: from destroying things by ripping them apart/ to Not Letting Things Be Destroyed(also known as protecting) by freezing them in indestructible rock. Like the moon, it can ‘reflect’ a bit of the sundrop’s power, so it can kinda provide energy, albeit a lot less than the sundrop can provide. It’s the inevitable march of The End of All Things, fertilizing the fields of time with the ashes of the old so the new can take root. 

The Moonstone is a bit more in the dark(pun intended hehe) when it comes to bonding with someone, it can only try to figure out what is going on based off the emotions of its wielder, and through anything directly touching the Black Rocks. Because of this it’s... Kinda dumb? It tries to do things to help(Like shooting red fear-rocks to try and scare away whatever must be scaring its wielder so badly) but often fails spectacularly at helping. 

Under the influence of the Moonstone you get: 

Mortals get Neat Body Armor that’s actually just you being turned into a rock! They are very fragile! They need to be protected! The best the Moonstone can do to try and preserve you is to Stop All Destruction by.. Pausing all bodily functions indefinitely. Rocks don’t need to eat, sleep, or breathe, and almost nothing can destroy you if you’re solid Black Rock. The weak reflection of the Sundrop’s energy keeps the host animated, but they’re not exactly alive anymore. Like cryostasis. Wounds (if any) acquired in this state won’t be a problem because they’re not messing anything up, because nothing is technically working in the first place, but they will be a problem when you’re not protected in this way anymore. It’s a cosmic ‘I’ll deal with that later’ button, essentially. 

Like the moon, the Moonstone can reflect the light of the sun. It uses its rock crystals to do so, which can even split the sun’s power into different shades, like a prism. Essentially, different colored rocks can mean new and exciting power sets. 

Blue Lightning! The Moonstone can reflect the Sundrop’s power, so it also has access to pure bursts of energy, even if it is weaker and colder. 

The Moonstone is very helpful, but usually has no idea what you want. ‘Asking’ the Moonstone for more control over its power in the same way you would Ask the Sundrop for more power reminds it of the perfect bond it used to share. The Moonstone’s incantation deepens the bond between wielder and Moonstone in such a way that it actually knows what you want from it, giving you near perfect control of its powers.

*This is kind of just a side note of the Drops: While the Moonstone is weaker than the Sundrop in an head-on fight, it could hold its own if it were on the defensive. Redirecting the power instead of trying to overpower and such.

** Cass made of rocks means I get to draw her skeleton :) not in every picture that would be fucking nuts and way too much work alskjdf;lkjs;fv

[ethelindawrites]

October 26

Fictober, Prompt 26 - "I'm sure this has never worked, ever."

Original fiction, sci-fantasy/technomagic. Continuation: part one (Day 1), part two (Day 5), part three (Day 7), part four (Day 15), and part five (Day 22). This the sixth and final part of this story.

Warnings: monster/eldritch horror, technically suicidal ideation (characters prepared to sacrifice themselves).

---

Vivi and I stared at the console screen, torn between horror at what Lin’s original plan for the world-eater had been and the first kernels of hope that we might still have a chance after all.

Lin seemed to have believed that a newly hatched world-eater could be led…if you could control its nearest source of food, namely, the planetary shell that it had hatched out of.

“So, she was going to guide the remnants of the planet, via magic, to get it near enough to the Phean system worlds that it would naturally devour them next, thus enacting her revenge for…something,” Vivi summarized, voice flat.

The further writings we had found deep in Lin’s encrypted files had finally shed light on her goals, though even here she did not seem to list the specific wrongs for which she had wanted revenge.

Regardless of what they were, I could not imagine any crime for which the destruction of an entire planet would be the appropriate punishment.

We had put a stop to that much of her plan, at least. But that would only mean that some other random worlds would be devoured instead, unless we could find a way to use this to our advantage and somehow do what no one (to our or Lin’s knowledge) had ever done before: destroy a world-eater.

“That seems to be the short version,” I agreed with Vivi’s summary, pulling up a map that Lin had created of her proposed route. It was another reason for the spellwork within the planet’s crust, and the extensive and so far astoundingly effective shielding that had sprung up around the whole facility after that first enormous earthquake as the world-eater started to hatch. Lin had intended to be around for this part, so she had ensured that her compound could survive the hatching.

That was good news for us, at least temporarily. It was giving us the time to look for more information, and even the possibility that we could lead this thing somewhere was more of a plan than we had ten minutes ago.

But it wasn’t enough.

Something about the map was niggling at my mind, but I could quite pin down what it was. It was a pretty straight shot from here to the Phean system, without too much else in the way—

A straight shot…except for the way her planned route deliberately curved out and around the two largest-mass stars along the way.

“Vivi,” I breathed, “Vivi, look!” I zoomed in on that section of the map, highlighting the curves.

She saw what I was thinking immediately, but still looked skeptical. “Really? Don’t you think someone would have figured that out by now?”

“They didn’t necessarily have the magic or the technology that we do now, the last time one of these things was around,” I argued.

“She could just have been trying to avoid letting the shell pieces get pulled in. It’s not necessarily a danger to it, just to the food supply.”

That was true, but it didn’t change the fundamental point: “Is there anything else we can try?”

Vivi met my gaze, then slumped a little, closing her eyes. “No.”

“Look,” I told her, and pulled up a separate, clean map of surrounding space, and then started typing in criteria as fast as could: active, minimum mass, proximity to habited planets... The computer dimmed stars that didn’t match the growing list of specifications, more and more growing dark on the map. “We just need to find…here.”

An active star, its mass just a little larger than those Lin’s route had avoided, and as far as we could get from any habited worlds while still being within her estimated radius of how far the world-eater could be led. Whether it would be far enough, I wasn’t sure, but it was our best shot if the first part of this plan didn’t work.

“I’m sure this has never worked, ever,” Vivi grumbled, but then nodded, only a little reluctantly. “I suppose it can’t have worked if no one’s tried it.”

“It may have occurred to someone, but were they able to do anything about it?” I asked, and she conceded the point.

I pulled up the programming that would allow us to get the shell pieces moving through space, but paused to meet Vivi’s eyes again.

She looked back at me, steady.

Our chances of survival had already dropped to zero when the ships were destroyed, or so we had thought. Hope was a difficult thing to balance against that earlier certainty…but really the only hope here was that we could destroy the world-eater before it could destroy any habited planets.

Plunging into a star would not be my first choice of a way to go…but I supposed we didn’t need to wait quite that long, just long enough to get the world-eater where we needed it.

“Do it,” Vivi said, confirming our joint resolve. We would attempt this, whatever the cost.

I settled down to the spellwork, glad that Lin had written up notes for herself. They weren’t quite as good as full instructions would have been, but I wasn’t completely in the dark. Vivi settled at a nearby console to try sending another tight beam of data out with our expanded knowledge.

Just in case.

Accompanied by the almost-disturbingly light tremors that rocked the facility within the bubble of its shielding, reminding us of the cataclysmic hatching happening beneath our feet, we set to work.

--

Watching the newly hatched world-eater open its…its mawto chomp into the nearest piece of planetary crust, now floating free, was not an experience I could ever fully put into words. It was certainly alive, and equally certainly was not any kind of life as we knew it. It seemed to be mineral in its composition, almost rock-like, but its three limbs moved smoothly to hook chunks of shell toward the protruding mouth, with some kind of body beyond that.

Vivi and I stared at the vidscreen for long moments, too long, attempting to comprehend it.

She shook herself out of it first, then prodded me. “We’d better get all this moving, or it will eat everything and we won’t have anything for it to chase.”

I sat down, set my hand on the integration pad, and started pouring magic into the spell.

The drain surged, and I gasped against a spike of pain…but then it steadied, and the lines of magic within and between the floating remnants of the planet’s crust began to move, the one in which this facility remained first, the others slowly dragging along after.

Finding that its next piece of meal had drifted out of range, the world-eater performed a shifting of its form that made my head ache to watch, and then was following us. One limb still reached forward toward its nearest source of food, the other two now behind it, doing something to propel it into motion.

It seemed wrong, somehow, that something so large could just drift through space, silent and dark, a mere shadow against the black unless you were already too close.

Vivi’s hand closed around my shoulder in a tight, supportive grip, and I nodded, but didn’t pull my eyes away from the console, monitoring the spell as the steady drain on my magic continued. Vivi could take a turn if needed, but Lin had intended to do this herself, so I should be able to manage it.

“I’ll see if I can find anything else useful,” she said after a few more minutes, and left me to it.

So far, the plan was working.

--

I tried to vary our speed between “fast enough to get somewhere” and “slow enough for it to keep up and occasionally get another chunk of shell to eat.” It needed to feel that these pieces remained its closest and best source of sustenance, or it would leave in search of something closer and easier.

That I nearly lost it once, the first time I tried going a little faster, left me sweating and nauseated for hours, in spite of Vivi’s assurances. She forced us both to keep to our regulated rations of water, but I could no longer remember when either of us had last eaten.

Neither of us was hungry…and it was unlikely to matter, anyway.

We didn’t have long.

The spell moved us and our tethered string of bait ever closer to our destination.

The world-eater, driven by hunger and instinct, followed.

--

“Demir!” Vivi’s startled cry jerked me out of meditation (the best compromise I had found between powering the spell and getting needed rest).

“What?” I asked, a bit groggily, turning my chair as best I could without taking my hand off the integration pad. “What is it?”

“Demir,” she said again, still staring wide-eyed at her own console screen, “there’s a ship.”

Alarmed, I jolted upright. “A what? Where? Did those pirates follow—”

“No,” she said, turning toward me apologetically. “No, I didn’t mean—I meant, there’s a ship here. It’s- It’s kind of disguised, I guess, or built into the facility, but it’s definitely a separate ship.”

I blinked at her, uncomprehending.

“It looks like it was an escape plan,” Vivi explained, triggering a standard spell to pull a three-dimensional schematic out from the screen, a lower part of the facility highlighted in brighter blue. “I’m not sure she was necessarily intending to survive, but it looks like she wanted the option to watch her revenge be enacted if she made it that far. So, there’s a ship built in here, where it would be protected until she wanted it.”

“Oh,” I breathed. “We could…”

“We might be able to get away,” she confirmed, her voice tight to control the emotion in it.

“The timing will be tricky,” I admitted. We’d have to get close enough that a surge of magic would keep the spell and the crust pieces and the world-eater moving past the point of no return, but get out before this little ship would be caught.

But with a ship, then the worst case scenario was that only one of us (me) would have to die: Vivi, at least, could escape with our data and get home.

And maybe, maybe we could somehow both make it out alive after all.

“I’ll go make sure it’s still flight-ready,” Vivi said then, her eyes narrowing as if she knew that I might try to send her off alone and didn’t like it. Time enough for that fight if it came to that, though, so I let her go with a grateful smile.

Stomach tight with hope and nerves, I turned to the vidscreen that pointed behind us, toward the leviathan still following in our wake.

--

We cut it almost too close.

Vivi had run almost a hundred simulations, all of which said that a reservoir spell tied into the guide spell and filled with every last bit of magic both of us had in us would be enough to keep everything moving after we got away in the boxy but space-worthy ship stored as a lower part of the facility.

She had shoved the simulation results in my face, and had refused to entertain the possibility of leaving me behind.

Still sick with fear that something would go wrong when neither of could fix it…I still had to concede that I did not want to die here, and gave in.

At the last possible moment, with everything else prepared by Vivi beforehand, we drained ourselves dry of magic into the reservoir spell, waited for three heart-stopping breaths to make sure that it was connected and draining properly to the guide spell, and then ran, gasping, for the ship.

The engine whined against the pull of the star’s gravity. Unable to boost it with any additional power, we held our breaths until it at last pulled free, speeding us away.

Would the world-eater notice our escape and its own imminent (we hoped) danger? Would the reservoir last long enough? Would—

Vivi took us out and out and out, far enough, and then slowed and turned, switching on the video feeds, making sure they were recording.

I wasn’t sure anyone would believe the footage (I wasn’t sure I would believe it if anyone else brought something like it back), but we couldn’t not capture this, whatever actually happened.

We saw the moment the world-eater grabbed for one of the last pieces of planetary crust and then shied back from the proximity of the star, saw it turn, shifting all three of its limbs to propel itself away—

—and fail.

It turned out that the way you destroyed a world-eater was with a star.

When it was done, and we were sure that it wasn’t going to somehow reemerge, Vivi started us for the nearest habited system.

For three days, neither of us spoke a word.

Some things, it turned out, were too big. Too big to have seen. Too big to have survived. Too big to know, at least for a time.

I thought we would both be all right, in the end. But right now…it was too big.

Once we seemed to be within range of the nearest sector law enforcement communication relays, Vivi sent out an encrypted emergency call, and we braced ourselves to deal with other people once again.

Whatever happened next, the two of us knew what we had seen, and that there were others out there who knew more than they let on, and that they did not seem to be on our side. Mysteries still to be solved, but…

Whatever happened next, we could be sure of one thing: world-eaters were not a myth.

[thelordofdarkreunion]

Magnificent Scoundrels- The Shadowed Lords

I know I keep throwing new characters and places at you.  Sorry.  Scoundrel shenanigans will return next story.  However, this is important for the story progression, and, to be blunt, these are some of my personal favorite characters I wrote in here.  Enjoy the story, and if you are interesting in it, please read the end note.  

“Nine heroes and their colleagues.

Six Shadowed Lords and the assets they bring:

One Ghost.

One god.

One collector.

One Man

One Cypher.

One Leader.

Six Stones.

One Weapon.

One Crucible.

One Ring.

Seven Lords:

One Lion

One Phoenix

One Warhawk

One Wolf

One Son

One Salamander

One Raven

And a little luck.”  -A List of Items Required

Titanfall Galaxy

The Outlands

Hammond Robotics Lab 365-772

It was night out, and Dr. Lisa Wiltalker sat in the same chair, in the same office, as she did every night.  But this time, she didn’t really mind.  It was a wonderful night outside, crisp and clear, with the stars shining through the window, creating an ambient atmosphere of peace.  Though, in reality, it was actually due to her work that she didn’t mind staying late.  

She was the head of the facility, one of the most important ones in the Outlands region of space, and it was her duty to advance the Hammond company by any means necessary.  And, by God, the opportunities that presented themselves now!  Eight new universes that had just materialized from nowhere.  Eight!  The circumstances that presented themselves for Hammond and herself were...endless.

She was currently studying everything she could about these new galaxies, trying to learn anything and everything she could…

She looked up sharply.  Could have sworn something was moving in the shadows…  No.  She had been here for...fifteen hours, was it?  It was nighttime, and it was a lonely, empty office building, so no wonder her senses were playing tricks on her sleep deprived mind.  She stood up, stretched, grabbed a coffee from the machine in the room, and sipped it while looking out the window and the stars.  Feeling better, or at least more caffeinated, she returned to the task at hand. 

Eight new galaxies.  Endless opportunities to sell the products of Hammond.  Spectre robots, the latest and greatest in infantry fighting machines, faster, stronger, and tougher than a man; explosive Ticks, small drones that seeked out enemies and detonated; and, of course, Titans.  She didn’t think that any of the other galaxies had technology like that, and where better to add to their arsenals but from the Hammond Corporation?  Made perfect sense…

She snapped around sharply.  She swore she could have heard something moving, swore she could see something just inside her peripheral vision…  She shook her head again.  The office was massively secure, with guards, both of bolt and steel, and flesh and blood stationed throughout it.  When in a sleep deprived and lonely situation, everyone started seeing the boogeyman hiding in the corners.  She shook her head ruefully and turned on more lights.  

Where was she?  Ah, yes.  Opportunities.  Who to sell to?  Everyone, if possible.  Who could turn down six meter tall war machines, implemented with the finest in A.I. technology, programmed in the art of death and destruction?  Well, probably a few of the more dense and/or peaceful of the governments out there.  She leafed through a dossier.

The Galactic Assembly?  No.  Has only had two major wars in the last century, both of which had ended within the year.  The United Federation of Planets?  Also no.  Too regulatory, too jealous of their own technology.  The Galactic Empire?  This one looked promising.  A pro-human empire that had been fractured and on the losing side of a major war in recent years, desperate for anything to turn the tide.  Yes, this-

A cold, metallic hand gripped her throat, preventing any sound from getting out, and a horribly deep, rasping, grating voice sounded in her ear.

“You ever get the feeling you’re not alone in the room?  It’s because you’re not.”

The extremely tall, spindly...thing stood over the corpse of Dr. Wiltalker.  The body had a massive, jagged, yet precise hole ripped through the torso, directly where the heart was, and currently lay deep in a pool of its own clotting blood.  The thing, made of cold steel yet looking oddly humanoid, stood above it, watching, savoring the sensation.  

“One more off the list,” it said in the same rasping voice.  It made a move to turn, to exit the room, but stopped.  It stared at the desk.  At the dossier.  “Interesting,” it muttered.  It picked it up.  “Very interesting indeed.”  It leafed through it.   The machine turned.  

It had once been he.  He had once been living.  He had been turned into this… synthetic nightmare by Hammond, against his will or knowledge.  He snarled and suppressed a shudder of rage.  Once the greatest hitman the Syndicate, Hammond, or anyone else had ever known, at some unknown point his mind had been altered, his body destroyed and replaced with… this.  He snarled again.  

He had been having his revenge against everyone and everything associated with the company… but this new knowledge.  This changed things.  So many possibilities.  So many skinsuits.  So little time.  He was the boogeyman.  He was the Revenant.  And he would have his vengeance.

Warhammer 40k Galaxy

Solemnace, Necron Tomb World

The hallways were jet black, cut from a strange stone that seemed to absorb all light around it.  The only illumination came from strange runes and lighting fixtures that seemed to blend into the halls and ceilings.  The light was a pale, bright green, and cast strange shadows on the halls and objects residing within.  It swirled throughout the space, as if it didn’t quite understand what exactly it was supposed to be illuminating.  A human would have found the long halls exceptionally strange.  Disconcerting.  Creepy, even, if one were less eloquent.  It seemed like something from a horror movie, with mad creatures waiting to leap from the shadows on the unaware.  

Even more strange and disconcerting were the objects located within the halls.  Strange devices, artifacts, and objects littered the space.  Each one almost unrecognizable; completely unknown except to the most knowledgeable of galactic historians, and, of course, the curator.  For this place, this entire planet, in fact, was so much more than strange alien hallways and lighting that did not agree with the human ocular system.  Above all else, itt was a place that preserved history.

The massive galleries, for that is what they were, contained a great many strange, horrifying, and wondrous things.  Everything, from inactive artifacts of history to living beings had their place here.  Each was protected, frozen in status by eldritch technologies.  A massive man in baroque power armor.  Tens of thousands of Imperial Guardsmen, from many different worlds, (including some lost) scattered throughout different exhibits.  Huge war machines, from almost every race to bestride the stars.  A large, beautifully embellished bell.  Korks, the ancient and ferocious genetic predecessors of orks.  The ossified husk of some strange, jellyfish-like being.  The preserved head of an Imperial Saint.  The graceful Eldar of the last high council of the destroyed Craftworld Idharae.   Space Marines, from almost every chapter and legion imaginable.  Several Inquisitors that had been just a bit too nosy.  A Custodian.  Stange, undocumented blue crab-like aliens.  Members of species thought to be long dead by the rest of the galaxy.  The total list would probably take hours, if not days or weeks, to describe.  

The long galleries were patrolled by odd beings, bipedal silver robots with elongated skulls, wielding strange spears.  They seemed to be mindless, uncaring of the weariness that would affect any other beings by the constant patrolling.  

On one of the wings of the planet-sized museum, an individual studied a huge sculptured head.  It was old and grimy, its original and secondary colors lost to time.  The figure was lost in it, its bulk taking up a huge display gallery.  Once upon a time the head had been part a a figure called the Statue of Liberty, and had resided in the human hive city of Nuva York on the Throneworld of mankind.  38,000 years ago.  It was a huge monument to human accomplishment.  38,000 years ago.  It was a historical relic, a testament to mankind’s history.  30,000 years ago.  It disappeared, never to be seen again, a missing piece of history.  24,000 years ago.  Now it resided here.  It mattered nothing to the individual.  He was older than the statue.  Older than the human race itself.  

His body was similar to those of the gallery guardians, but much more ornamented and higher quality.  Made of silvery metal, his legs were long but powerful.  A metallic rib cage, with a strange symbol etched in the breastbone attached, the legs to similarly structured arms.  His metallic skull had a largely elongated jaw, with a permanent mouth etched in the metal.  A cloak made of interlocking metallic plates was thrown across his back, and in his hands was a strange staff, made of the same metal as he was.  

A sigh of contentment, strangely synthesized, escaped his lips (or what passed for them).  While he did often travel the galaxy, looking for artifacts and individuals to add to his ever-growing collection, it was nice to look at his gains.  He turned and strode out of the gallery hall.  

A vast open room stretched before him, much better lit than his galleries.  Ornamented skeletal warriors, weapons at the ready, stood on guard.  They were there not only to protect him (not that he needed it, mind you, there were plenty of tricks up his sleeve), but the massive museum itself.  He surmounted the steps to his throne, ornamental carved from the black rock, and surveyed his domain.  He was not here simply to oversee his galleries.  No.  A voice broke him out of his thoughts.

“My lord?” asked another metallic servant, this one bearing heavier limbs and more decoration than its fellows.  The seated figure looked up.  A huge holographic map, made of eerie green light, sprung to life, taking up the majority of the colossal room.  It showed not one, but nine different galaxies.  Each a treasure trove.  Each begging to be explored.  

Trazyn the Infinite, Phaeron of the Nihilakh Dynasty, Archaeovist of Solemnace, curator of the Prismatic Galleries, and collector extraordinaire turned his head to the map.  Eight new galaxies.  Eight new sets of history.  So little time.  So much to collect.  

Marvel Galaxy

Within the passages between worlds

There were ways.  Passages between realms and planets, known to only a few.  Some might call them ‘wormholes’, some ‘slip spaces’, others just plain ‘magic’.  They were small, strange, holes in time and space.  While naturally occurring, and while able to be explained by science, few ever found them.  Fewer still ever used them.  

Loki of Asgard, God of Mischief, was not among those few.  He was with the tiny minority, the smallest percentage of all beings: he knew where they were, knew how they worked, and used them frequently.  They were so incredibly useful; too hard to pass up.  Not even Heimdall, all-seeing guardian of the Nine Realms, could not peer into them.  Poor Heimdall.  The man was a tedious bore, but he really didn’t deserve to die like he did.  

Loki died that day too, choked to death at the hands of the Mad Titan, Thanos.  Or did he?  Was this the original Loki, cheating death yet again?  Was this another Loki from the same universe, the same timeline, transported here?  Maybe.  Or was this a Loki from somewhere else entirely; the same individual from a different universe?  It was possible.  One never really knew with the God of Lies.  

Loki wasn’t truly evil.  He had a habit for causing mass death and destruction, but those killed were mortals, were they not?  A few years taken off their miserably short lives wouldn't really affect anything.  He liked power, enjoyed it, would use force to get it, but, at heart, he wasn’t malevolent.  

But now, out there, seen in the spaces between time and space, there were new things.  Things that truly were malevolent.  Evil.  Things that would enslave all sentients, destroy all life, rend reality asunder.  

He was no hero.  But things like this...they needed to be stopped.  So, unfortunately, he would probably end up fighting on the side of heroes.  However, that didn’t mean he still couldn’t find time for mischief...  

Mass Effect Galaxy

Cronos Station, Headquarters of Cerberus

The room was bare, with only an ergonomic chair standing alone in the center.  A huge window, sleek and curved, with no obstructions, gave view to a massive fiery star.  Tendrils of fire, both red and yellow, spun into space, guaranteed to take any viewer’s breath away.  The floor was black and polished, reflecting the star’s burning light.  Sitting in the chair in the center of the room, surrounded by orange and blue holograms, was a single human.

He was wearing an extremely expensive, well-tailored suit, the edges perfectly cut to fit his frame.  His brown hair was neatly styled, and his eyes glowed blue, replaced long ago with prosthetics.  He stood, glass of incredibly expensive liquor in hand, the glowing tip of a cigarette sticking from the edge of his mouth, staring at the holograms.  Somehow, he contrived to make the vices look incredibly elegant and classy, like a movie star of old.  

He was the Illusive Man.  One of the, if not the most powerful individuals in the galaxy. Creator of the pro-human terrorist organization Cerberus.  He saw his duty plainly: humanity must become the most prominent race throughout the stars.  He was not xenophobic.  Far from it.  He simply wanted his species to succeed, and if lesser individuals saw that as racist, saw him as a terrorist, then so be it.  He cared nothing for the opinions of the weak.  Those who were not willing to act were not worthy of inheriting the stars.  But now...complications.  

Eight new galaxies.  He knew a great many things about them; far more than most.  There were new threats.  New problems.  New factions and people of incredible power.  But most importantly, humanity existed in all eight.  His species.  

Whether through the iron might of the Imperium of Man, or the peace and technological progress of the United Federation of Planets, humanity was in a prominent place in all of them.  He would see them remain that rightful place.  But now there were threats.  Too many to handle alone.  He would need help, and he would need it as quickly as possible if he were to succeed.  

The holograms scrolled past, showing names.  Faces.  Dossiers.  Heroes.  Villains.  Species.  

The Illusive Man sat in his chair, cigarette dangling from his mouth as if forgotten.  He was thinking.  Planning.  He needed more help, needed more people, needed more knowledge.  Knowledge was power.  Power was required to raise mankind to the top.  Simple, but not easy.  He thought some more.  

Unknown Location

The faint light, cast by the glow of a nearby star, emanated from large floor to ceiling windows.  The star was old, cold, but still let out a pure white light, enough to illuminate the room through the heavy, cathedral-like windows.  It contrasted with the empty blackness of space, the only light beyond the star being faint pinpricks, barely enough to cast a second glance at.  The room itself was dark.  Nothing could be seen of it.  Not its size, not its purpose, or any items within.  The light only illuminated two figures standing side by side, staring out into the blackness of space.  

The one on the right was the shorter of the two.  It looked to be human, with two arms, two legs, and a head sticking out from a normal human frame.  However, one couldn’t really tell what it was, for its face was hidden by an armored black mask and helmet.  Two rectangular eye slits, glowing a dim red in the light of the star, looked out through the window.  It wore black armor and gloves, stylized so as to allow the greatest range of motion possible.   A heavy black coat, reinforced by some form of anti-ballistic material, reached down to the figure’s ankles.  Holstered at its side was a large pistol, a human-made automatic of heavy calibre.  

The figure on the left was massive.  While the one in black was slightly taller than six feet, it towered a full eight feet tall.  Its form was large and bulky, with joints of massive power armor poking through a plain white robe that hid the majority of its figure.  A white hood covered its head, and while one might think this figure was some strange alien, the bottom of the face that could be seen through the hood and shadows was unmistakably human.  It had a broad and chiseled face that fit the rest of its massive form, hinting that the bulkiness of its figure came not from the armor, but from the body beneath it.  Two pistols were holstered at its side, both oversized to fit in the figure’s large armored gauntlets.  One was blocky and black, and while heavily ornamented, seemed to be of the type that fired something akin to bullets.  The other glowed a soft blue, coils replacing what would have been the slide on an automatic pistol.  

An utterly massive sword was strapped to the figure’s back, and while beautifully adorned and seemingly crafted by a master, it was too large even for the tall man to wield it.  Instead, it was kept in its place, resting on his back.  

The taller man spoke.  “You know what must be done, yes?”  His voice was a deep baritone, rumbling with massive power and reverberating through the darkness.  

“Yes.”  The shorter figure’s voice was scarred and metallic, spoken through some sort of modulator in the mask it wore.  

“Then we must move quickly.”  The man on the left turned and stared down at the black-clad figure on the right.  “There are those who would seek to stop this.”

“It is logical.  I see no other way to make things right for everyone.”

“Good.  Then it is necessary to do what must be done,” said the deep voice.  

“The fate of the universe hangs on the shoulders of a few.  But they have done it before.  Proven their worth,” replied the black figure.  

“This time there are forces outside of their control.  Things they are not powerful enough to fight.  This is why we must help them.”  The red lenses tilted up towards the tall man’s face.

“Indeed.  We have a mission, and for the good of all we must not fail.”

Hope you liked the story.  I know that both Loki and the Illusive Man are kind of bad guys, and the the Illusive Man goes heavy off the deep end in ME 3, but that hasn’t happened yet, and I need all of these characters on the same side.  Now, the message.  If you have any ideas for stories you want me to write or any characters that fit in with the Shadowed Lords you want to include, please tell me and I will consider writing them if the fit in.  If you have any comments, criticisms, concerns, or questions, don’t hesitate to ask!  I hope you enjoyed the story, and I hope that you have a great day.  Or night.  Or whatever.  

Edit: Also, Revenant is a sociopathic murderer, so he isn’t exactly a good guy either.  

[propfortytwo]

heres the entire plot of homestuck explained mostly

the story takes place over 4 (technically 5 counting the end) alternate universes, and starts in the 3rd one, but it makes more sense if we start from the beginning chronologically.

a race of humanoids called trolls who are basically just humans with grey skin, orange horns, multicolored blood, and varying degrees of psychic powers exist on a planet called beforus. things are relatively uneventful, until the abdicated heiress to an empire, meenah, discovers The Game(tm) on the moon.

the game, otherwise known as sburb (or sgrub to the trolls) exists to propagate the universe; a successful session of it creates a new universe entirely. it involves a server player manipulating the real environment of a client player to bring them into a type of pocket dimension called the medium aka the session aka the incipisphere whatever, point is, you get there. the client can then, from that dimension, host the server of another client and bring them into the same session, and so on; the trolls sessions have 12 players, and human sessions have 4. each player has their own ‘land’, a small planet vaguely themed around them with a unique poorly defined quest, but that doesnt come up too much so dont worry about it immediately. each player also has a unique mythological role consisting of a class and an aspect; there are 12 of each for a total of 144 possible combinations, for instance john egbert is the heir of breath. this not only defines their abilities, but also their personality and role in the story.

each session has a few constants: a ‘planet’ in the center called skaia, which is a bright ball of just sky, with clouds that show you visions of the future; at the center of it is the battlefield, a chessboard which gets bigger and more complicated as things go on. a session will also always contain prospit, a yellow planet that orbits close to skaia, and a purple planet called derse that orbits far away from it. in a game session, prospit and derse are at war, with derse seeking to destroy skaia and the battlefield by sending an asteroid belt into it; coincidentally, this also destroys the home planet of the players, as many asteroids are teleported into reality. in the sessions weve seen so far these asteroids also are used to paradoxically send baby versions of the players and their ancestors back in time but that isnt too important right now. each player has an alternate self called a dream self, which exists on one of the two planets (but doesnt have any bearing on their morality or allegiance, just personality). dream selves, along with the session itself, always exist alongside the normal universe before the game even begins, and under certain conditions your normal self will, when asleep, awake as your dream self and vice versa. in addition, a player who dies can be revived, but only as their dream self.

back to the plot; the beforus trolls aren’t very good at the game; in fact, they fail and spend a few years not being able to do anything until they discover a way to reset both their game and the universe itself, which will retroactively swap them with their ancestors as players and do some other things as well. they should logically not even exist anymore, but due to some shenanigans that happen in the 2nd universe, they exist as ghosts in a sort of afterlife formed by dreaming players whose dream selves are dead or missing. overall, only two of these 12 trolls are actually important to the plot, meenah and aranea.

this brings us to the second universe; beforus is now called alternia, and it is a considerably more violent and horrific place, with troll society being murderous as pretty much a standard. as you can imagine literally everyone is traumatized by this. the first 12 trolls to get introduced in the comic come from this timeline, and include funny lawyer girl terezi. there’s also a considerable amount of infighting, most of which is vriskas fault. she comes up later.

the 2nd troll session is considerably more successful than the 1st, and finishes the game creating a universe, though this new universe contains a “small” defect due to negligence on the part of the players. before the trolls can enter their new universe, however, they are unexpectedly attacked by an angry teleporting chess dog with wings and a katana, who murders all their dream selves and blows up prospit and derse. the trolls go into hiding on a meteor, where they learn that this strange murderous furry came from a session inside their new universe. they elect to constantly harass the players of this session. also around the time of furrymans rampage, a girl named feferi convinces some eldritch creatures to create the aforementioned afterlife, while another girl named aradia who was briefly a robot comes back to life as a god tier and freezes furrydude in place. a god tier player is someone who has died in a particular way and as a result been revived with conditional immortality (if they die they are immediately revived UNLESS their death was either heroic, or just ie they were a piece of shit), powers based on their class and aspect, and a new outfit also based on their class and aspect. meenah in the first universe did this, as did vriska in the 2nd, though only because aradia beat the shit out of her for being awful. speaking of which she murders her childhood friend who she has abused and tormented for years because thats just how vriska is.

this brings us to the start of homestuck, the comic. there are four kids at the moment: john egbert, an overall lovable dumbass who is the first to enter, rose lalonde, a goth lesbian obsessed with wizards and psychology, dave strider, funny sunglasses memelord and horrifically abused swordsman, and jade harley, the prophetic scientist heiress of an old colonialist who was raised by a magic dog. through some difficulties they enter their session, and things IMMEDIATELY start going wrong. they just barely get everyone into the session before earth is ruined, and before that can even happen, the aforementioned murder furry is created when a bureaucrat named jack noir kills the black queen and steals her magic ring. a different jack noir was also present in the troll session, this one became a mobster named spades slick. (yes, that stupid fucking intermission was actually important). this happened because like the players, several ingame npcs also are brought to the dying planet, after it gets fucked by rocks. these include, on earth, WV aka the mayor, PM who will be important later, and two other jackasses who arent important. PM is cool because shes a mailman who fights through the fucking legions of hell to deliver a package to john and then later receives a copy of jack noirs magic ring and proceeds to chase him across the void for 3 years and finally beats the shit out of him. love her. anyway;

like the 1st universe, the kids are informed by a creepy man who talks in white text on a white background like a fucking tool that they cant succeed and will have to reset their session, though with coordination from the trolls, they have a plan to survive it. they also plan to use a very large bomb created as part of that defect i mentioned before to blow up something called the green sun, which is where jack noirs magic furry powers come from. this will also coincidentally kill spooky white man who has a cueball for a head and release an eldritch horror known as lord english into the timeline. meanwhile in the troll session, a clown troll named gamzee is driven into a rage by a video of the insane clown posse sent to him by dave and murders several of the less relevant characters because hes a piece of shit. also meanwhile a troll named eridan ALSO kills some people including someone named kanaya who is a lesbian vampire with a chainsaw who eventually marries rose. kanaya then cuts eridan in half because she Is Too Fucking Angry To Die. love her. ALSO ALSO meanwhile vriska is about to fly off and expose their hiding place to jack noir, but is killed by her childhood friend terezi. she dies for good because its considered a just death. anyway back in the kid session, things go awry and its revealed that white bread tricked them, as the bomb actually CREATES the green sun retroactively. also, because of the properties of the green sun and where the bomb was set off, the two kids who set off the bomb, dave and rose, meet up with the remaining trolls outside of the kid session. meanwhile jade fucking dies to a bomb made of shaving cream but is revived as a god tier and for unrelated reasons also fused with her magical dog. dave and rose also ascend to god tier as they died when a massive fucking sun spawned on top of them. john was already god tier due to some shenanigans by vriska earlier. basically everyone has their signature look now.

jade uses her new god tier abilities to shrink down every planet in their session including the battlefield, before bringing herself, john, and an alternate timeline dave onto a battleship and literally fucking launching it through the fourth wall into Poorly Defined Author Space which is technically on the moon of alternia. andrew hussie is here. as they leave the session before its reset, they stay alive, same with rose and dave. also meanwhile with rose and dave, one of the surviving trolls, sollux, uses his psychic powers to launch the meteor towards the newly reset session at relativistic speeds (all sessions TECHNICALLY exist in the same dimension? its weird), while jade does the same with her battleship.

thus begins the 4th timeline/universe. shit only gets stupider from here, consider taking a short break.

ok, ready?

the new universe is shown off, with the new kids; jane crocker, an average young woman who stands to inherit the betty crocker company which in this timeline is like amazon (shes an alternate version of johns grandmother); roxy lalonde, who is literally the best character in homestuck (alt. rose’s mom); jake english, a dumbass who lives on a deserted island, speaks in horribly inaccurate british slang and dual wields pistols (alt. jade’s grandfather); and dirk strider, a canonically gay nerd with pointy anime sunglasses and a sword who builds robots and canonically watches mlp so like fucking make of that what you will (alt. dave’s abusive brother). their entry into their session is different; their session is called a void session, and is inherently unwinnable because of retroactive time bullshit, and for related reasons, the meteors that would destroy earth are never sent. you may ask “well how did the kids get there then?” to which the answer is when the reset happened the destination of the kids guardians was switched to be this new session. doesn’t that mean the guardians never existed, you say? stop thinking.

anyway janes entry into the session coincedes with betty crocker revealing herself to be a hostile alien empress who slowly takes over the earth with the help of the insane clown posse and guy fieri. she’s also the alternate version of meenah, who in the alternia timeline was the empress and also kind of a horrible person. shes here because of nonsense involving lord english, who she works for but hates. in fact, theres an interesting side effect to this; dirk and roxy actually live 400 years in the future from jane and jake, from after betty crocker aka the condesce killed everyone and flooded the planet. they still enter the same session, through dirk doing some stupid shit and controlling both his dream self and his actual self at the same time and moving everyone around.

there’s a long period of absolutely nothing happening in the 4th session while the trolls and kids travel to it, and during this were introduced to two characters; calliope and caliborn. theyre brother and sister, and are part of another race called cherubs who look like green skeletons and which share a body with each other and fight for control of it. caliborn is the fucking worst and actually becomes lord english eventually, while calliope is a nice down to earth person who makes fan characters and cosplays a troll. they also technically exist in a... 5th, separate universe, on a dead earth?? which is probably the future earth from the ending? i dunno it makes no fucking sense.

anyway calliope dies due to some plotting but death means fucking nothing in this story so shes off hidden in the afterlife. the meteor group and the battleship group pass through this afterlife like physically several times during their journey through the void and meet many of the dead trolls, including dead vriska, meenah, and aranea, who come up with a plan to lure lord english, who is currently destroying reality and murdering ghosts, to a place where they can hit him with a magic ghost weapon. they find it, and john touches it out of curiosity, whereupon he gains weird powers that let him travel ANYWHERE in canon at any time, though he cant really control it. during his random zaps around he beats the shit out of caliborn which is cool and good. partway through, aranea leaves and uses a magic ring to come back to life JUST as the two groups arrive at the new session and the 4 new kids ascend to god tier, at which point everything goes wrong all at once.

through a contrived series of events, jade and jane are mind controlled by the condesce, and a long fight scene ensues where jake unleashes his true power and then dies, aranea tries to usurp the condesce but fails miserably, and basically fucking everyone but john and roxy die horribly, planets are smashed into each other, the session is falling apart due to interference from caliborn who has limited control over the narrative for some reason; its not good.

fortunately, john in theory has the ability to fix this by retconning events in a particular way. he has no idea how to though, until a dying terezi headbutts him, writes instructions on a blindfold in her own blood, and then dies, falling into a chalk outline of her own corpse she drew immediately beforehand because shes fucking metal. john also, during this time, uses his new powers to move his planet out of the session into a white void apparently outside everything. as a consequence of this, in an alternate timeline his planet explodes and roxy dies, though in THIS weird space, he and roxy are still alive.

following terezis instructions, john changes some subtle things in the past, before ultimately preventing her from killing vriska by knocking vriska out. this, surprisingly, actually has a positive effect; vriska has powerful mind control abilities that allow her to put jane and jade to sleep upon arrival and prevent the bad timeline from happening, but she also mellows out a bit and keeps everyone from losing their minds during the journey, while also forming a plan to fight the condesce that works out pretty well. the person she murdered gets revived as well, though she still treats him like shit so im not giving her points for that.

john and roxy arrive from the bad timeline with johns planet, and roxy uses the magic ring to bring the dead calliope back to life. also around this time calliope meets an alternate version of herself who killed caliborn in her timeline and is spooky and mysterious and super fucking powerful and will be able to help kill lord english, so thats cool.

some nice, genuine heart to hearts happen between the characters as they get set up for the final battle, at which point it happens, in a 20 minute flash. the condesce gets defeated, lord english's influence is cut out from the session, and the new universe is created; its actually a pretty happy ending.

and THAT is the end of homestuck.

[gojirahkiin]

What the  Godzilla Anime should’ve been! Part 1

Starting with an apology to Tyrantis Terror, and a promise that unlike the last time I pinged you with fanfiction, this will be a good read.

Alright, so @tyrantisterror​‘s cry of “BE INTERESTING YOU COWARDS!” is essentially the majority opinion of the Godzilla fandom towards the anime. This is how I, personally, would fix it.

To do so, I would take three premises, because in my spite I want to prove that there is a way that good can come of them:

Godzilla has reigned undisputed for 20,000 years

Mothra is dead, but her egg and people live

Ghidorah is an eldritch god.

What the anime lacks boils down to two things: character and spectacle. Everyone was boring and nothing cool happened.

But even assuming that you want to go in a completely different direction than the rest of the Godzilla franchise, you don’t have to be garbage about it. So Mothra has no Shobijin/Cosmos/Elias equivalents. Fine, but she doesn’t need any since she has an entire race/species of people. But you know who does need some now?

I present some amazing fanart for a priestess of King Ghidorah! Ignore the Noodledorah silhouettes behind her. I am scrapping that entire design for eldritch ramen.

Even worse, the canon Exif communicated with Ghidorah through math. That is the lamest thing possible. But once again harvesting and inverting classic Mothra, what do you think I could substitute for Fairy Mothra, a fragment of spirit given form and purpose?

A Dorat. Obviously it needs tweaking. No aspect of King Ghidorah would ever deign to be so cute. But my point stands: his most devout worshipers would have these tiny avatars of their god to guide them in their malice.

Now, I said that Mothra doesn’t need the Shobijin since she has a race/species. That’s not a metaphor. The canon Houtua are covered in powdery tattoos and given antennae. It’s never made explicit (because that might be cool) but they are implied to be literal children of Mothra.

Imagine the implications of being able to genetically prove that your goddess is the mother of your species? I discard the name Houtua and rename these technical kaiju the Elias. Could’ve also called them Cosmos, but I flipped a coin.

I’ll come back to Mothra in a bit. For now, let’s talk about Godzilla. He’s the ruler of Earth in this continuity, but what does that really mean? Well...

I do want to say that I’m not making this a post-apocalyptic MonsterVerse, as cool as that would be. What I mean is that every kaiju that hasn’t submitted to Godzilla’s dominance has been killed.

Godzilla is King of the Monsters in that he has no true rivals for the throne, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t resistance.

Mothra’s egg is hidden, proving that it is possible to hide from him. It is also possible to run from him since he can’t be everywhere at once, and there are creatures capable and willing to do both.

This is where my versions of the Servum (the worm & dragon-like creatures that were never named and hardly shown in canon) come in, in both name and concept.

The Kaiju Catastrophe wiped out many species, if only because humanity got increasingly destructive in their efforts to stop it, leaving vacuums in many ecosystems. 20,000 years isn’t a long time for new species to evolve, but a core theme of the Godzilla series is that mutations happen quickly.

In the aftermath, many species mutated and evolved to be symbiotic towards Godzilla, because being simultaneously around and useful to him was a great way to survive and be protected.

These creatures are the Servum, but there aren’t that many ways to be useful to Godzilla, and so they are essentially “battle honey guides.” They hunt down and swarm creatures that show signs of hostility toward the King, or simply call to summon him if they think they’re out of their league.

Godzilla has naturally been growing and mutating for all 20,000 years, but unlike the near-comatose tree in the anime, my Godzilla is active and roaming. Most of the Earth has well-worn pathways because unless he must deviate to deal with a challenger, he has a decently efficient patrol route.

One of the other results of Godzilla's never-ending world tour is that everything is a bit more radioactive and a bit more violent. The first is natural. The second requires explanation.

Essentially, kaiju that covet the throne hide in nice fertile areas with lots of food of whatever kind they eat. These are typically destroyed in the battle when Godzilla finds them. As a result, aggression, growth, and general "kaiju-fication" has been encouraged in the wildlife for the last 20,000 years, because if you can protect your territory from would-be crown-hunters it won't be destroyed by Godzilla.

Biollante exists, but less as a distinct creature and more as a taxonomic classification; when Godzilla destroys a region in battle, it takes truly remarkable plants to colonize it - these aggressive and radiosynthetic plants are the Biollante.

Now let’s talk about Mechagodzilla, an technology in general. What is left of humanity after 20,000 years? Not a lot to be honest.

Bunkers aren’t much protection from burrowing kaiju, and not even the most optimistic “abandoned by people” documentary thinks any skyscraper will last for 20,000 years.

But it sounds like I’m contradicting myself - if new kaiju are always rising, and virtually all traces of humanity are gone, then where are Mechagodzilla and Mothra’s egg in this continuity? Hilariously, they’re still around because they’re in almost the same place.

In my take on this scenario, Godzilla first appeared in 1954 at a height of 50 meters. By the time humanity had to flee in 2054, he’d swelled to his 100 meter height.

As a result, Mechagodzilla’s factory was built inside a mountain, so that the facility could constantly expand so that if and when the machine got wrecked, it could be rebuilt bigger and better for the next rematch, and both mecha and factory were constantly being built and improved until almost the day humanity evacuated.

Mothra first challenged Godzilla after humanity fled, but her standard procedure is to find a nice safe place for her egg before charging into mortal combat, and she found this very conveniently mostly empty hangar inside a mountain. A bit bland and sterile for her taste, but safe.

Hearkening back to the Heisei era again, Mothra’s egg is psychic, and has a useful passive defense. It radiates an aura that renders the area uninteresting to any kaiju not specifically looking for a Mothra egg. As a result, the egg, the Elias, and Mechagodzilla have been housemates for 20,000 years give or take.

Some of you may have caught that I said Mothra first challenged Godzilla. That’s because this version of Mothra is also active in the timeline... in a sense. Each time the egg hatches, the new Mothra has been challenging Godzilla, and each time she’s taken longer to develop, but done better in the fight. And the most recent challenger was 10,000 years ago...

So, let’s talk about King Ghidorah himself. The anime’s designers claim that their Ghidorah is the final evolution of the essence of Ghidorah.

Screw that! If I want an enemy that’s unkillable because he’s technically in another dimension, other franchises have done it better and with more spectacle.

King Ghidorah isn’t just about destruction. It isn’t enough to let a ghost noodle rip apart and eat a planet (in lore and not on screen of course). King Ghidorah is about the fear, helplessness, and despair in the face of an end to everything you care about that cannot be stopped.

Some people complain that in Rebirth of Mothra III, Ghidorah only destroyed a little bit and then went back to guarding his dome. My hypothesis is that there was a very deliberate and cruel reason for that.

The children knew that they’d been captured and knew that the walls were acidic because one of them tossed a ball at it. But their parents didn’t know yet. Ghidorah destroyed a little and then went back to the dome so that the parents would know what happened and that there was nothing they could do to stop it.

Also, he loomed over the dome and watched it - he was waiting for the digestion process to begin; he was people-watching in the most sadistic manner possible, like a child setting fire to ants with a magnifying glass.

But that incarnation of Ghidorah was a bit too stoic and focused for my taste. I want him to hearken back to Shōwa Ghidorah: we don’t know why he does what he does, only that he’s having a blast doing it!

So let’s run with that. I’m discarding the Exif’s name. In another callback to the past, their name can translate as Xians or Xiliens depending on your preference. And the Xiliens don’t often name their god, but they call him one of three euphemisms: The Laughing King, The Golden Light, and The Threefold Death.

The Xiliens also follow their god’s example: they are quite cheerful and always happy to meet new people (because they’ll get to kill them later); they’re decked out in gaudy, shiny golden colors; and when they’re getting ready to kill someone, they do their damnedest to give them a threefold death.

The Death of their Hopes.

The Death of their Body.

And reserved for their god alone, the Death of their World.

When King Ghidorah is summoned by the terrible cruelty and laughter of his followers, a tear into another dimension is opened over the planet, and an asteroid drops from it, with all the destructive power you’d expect of an asteroid strike.

To die in the blast is an honor and a mercy, because the true horror manifests from the molten ruins and lets out a cackling roar that can be heard across the entire planet. If there are any orbiting ships or space stations, the roar defies all laws of reality to be heard there too.

And in every listener, the sound inspires the primal terror of imminent death.

A cornered rat will bite the cat, but the Laughing King does not begrudge his prey. It’s no fun if they don’t fight back! They need to believe that they stand a chance, so that as they lie bleeding and broken by the Golden Light of gravity beams their hopes can die with their flesh!

This is the true purpose of the Threefold Death that is King Ghidorah. You don’t kill for sustenance or defense; such material needs are mark of a mortal. You kill for fun! For the joy of watching life and hope leave a victim’s eyes!

That is the true essence of King Ghidorah!

[phandomphightclub]

Honorable Mention Round: The eliminated phighters of the Phandom Phight Club vs. Birch Tree Fartman Himself

Disclaimer:  This is all done as a joke in good fun.  While I don’t agree with a lot of his personal views, I definitely do not advocate for anyone to physically harm Butch Hartman in any way.  Also, minimal to no effort was made to make anyone in character with their actual personalities.  Enjoy!

“Holy flying ice cream,” Tali murmured up at the sky, where the ghost who’d spoken descended amid a cloud of darkness.  “Get down, guys.  Get down!”

Danny didn’t need to be told twice; he went intangible and phased himself, Sam, and Tucker through the floor of the bleachers.

“What are you doing, Danny!?”  Sam stage-whispered.  “We can’t just leave them to fight that - that - what was that?”

Something in the depths of Danny’s memory had been stirred at the voice, but he still couldn’t say.

“There’s a whole stadium full of ghosts out there.  They can handle it. My job is keeping you two safe.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Tucker said.  Still, Danny was curious.  Staying invisible, he stuck his head up through the floor.

“Vic?  Come in, Vic!”  Tali was shouting into the walkie talkie.  All she got was static.

“Come on, what’s with all the panic?”  The voice asked.  Danny still couldn’t see his face; his form was shrouded in the dark mist.  “Aren’t you happy to see your creator?”

“Creator?”  Sam asked incredulously.  “Is that ghost saying he’s-?”

“If that’s God, I’m converting to atheism,” Tucker said in forced deadpan.

“No,” Danny shook his head, which was still sticking up through the floor, so his friends couldn’t see it anyway.  “That’s not - I know who this is.  I just - can’t remember.”

As the ghost came to rest over the pavement - ignoring the barrier that should have kept him out - the smoke veiling him finally cleared.  Danny cringed in expectation of some eldritch horror, but it was just… a man. A regular, human-looking man, with dark hair and a cocky grin.  He clasped his hands behind his back.

“It’s a nice place you have here,” he said conversationally, staring around the arena.  “It’s too bad that none of this is canon.”

“Nobody cares if it’s canon!”  A brave ghost shouted from the crowd.

“Nobody cares.”  The man sighed.  “Nobody cares!  Well, I know one person who does.”

He revealed his hands from behind his back, and Danny’s stomach dropped.  It wasn’t possible, but there he was, weilding a weapon Danny knew he’d destroyed.

“Danny?  What’s going on?”  Sam demanded from below. He pulled his head back under to answer.

“He’s got the Reality Gauntlet,” Danny answered in a broken voice.  “All the gems, too.”

“What?”  Sam and Tucker shouted.

“Shhhh!  We can’t let him know we’re here!”  Danny whispered.  For some reason, Tali had been intent on them hiding, and he couldn’t help the feeling in his gut that told him it was for a good reason.

“Me.”  The man snapped his fingers, and the arena disappeared.  All of it - all the seats, all the cracked, potholed pavement, all the concession stands full of Cheez-Its—gone.  In one snap.

All the ghosts, fortunately, were still standing - or, well, floating.  Several flew away, screaming in all-out panic.  A few stood their ground, however, including most of the Denny’s crew.

“This is not good.  This is very, very not good,” Tali muttered, staring at her walkie-talkie.  Hopefully Vic was safe in the Denny’s, which hadn’t been affected by the snap.  She’d have to distract him long enough to make sure he didn’t notice it.  She’d put in too much effort to let it get destroyed on the whim of some egotistical ghost, no matter how powerful he was.

“Hey, Birch Tree Fartman!”  She shouted into her megaphone, which wasn’t connected to the speaker system and therefore still worked.

“Hmm?”  The ghost looked up at her.  “Calling names isn’t very polite, you know.”

Birch Tree Fartman, Danny thought, remembering back to Tali’s comment from the last round - it was the name for a ghost who wasn’t supposed to be named.

“Butch Hartman,” Danny whispered as his eyes widened.  “That’s who he is, that’s - that’s the guy who created my TV show!”

“Danny, you weren’t supposed to say his name!”  Sam hissed.  But it was too late.  Butch’s eyes glowed bright red.

“Someone’s summoned me again,” he murmured.  “Where is he?  I can feel him close… my son.  Danny?  Are you here?”

Danny’s blood ran cold.  Or ectoplasm, since he was in ghost form - whatever.

“Dude, that guy is not your dad.  Right?”  Tucker asked nervously.

“Probably just another frootloop wanting to ‘adopt’ me,” Danny said with more confidence than he felt.  Butch had created his TV show, which, through the impossible laws of metaphysics and the writer’s discretion, meant that he had created Danny.  Like a father.  Only Danny had no memory of it, and had a feeling that that was for a reason.

“Ah.”  Butch’s eyes glowed brighter.  “There you are.”

There were no more bleachers or floor for protection.  Aside from Tali who still stood between them, they were completely vulnerable.

“Danny!”  She shouted.  “Get out of here!”

“I-”

“Why would you listen to this ghost?”  Butch asked, floating towards them.  “She’s not even canon.  Why, I could just snap my fingers, and-”

“Would you like a pancake?”

Butch blinked.  Suddenly floating behind him was a ghost in fuzzy rainbow twinkle toes, a monster hat, and a fanny pack.  She was also holding a platter stacked high with pancakes.

“Uh, no, I’m kind of in the middle of something, random non-canon ghost.  Why don’t you go crawl back to the fanfic gutter where you belong?”

“Now that’s what I’d call not very polite,” the waiter—Ectolights—said, then shoved the platter of pancakes into his face.

“GAH!”  Butch shouted, wiping the syrup from his red eyes.  “Why you little—!”

“There’s more where that came from!”  Another ghost said, teleporting between Tali and Butch.

“Vic!”  Tali grinned.  “You made it!”

She winked back at her before turning back to Butch.  “Alright, Phighters!  Execute Plan Delta Despa Dorito 0.25, Reverse Formation!”

At her command, a flood of ghosts teleported into the empty space between them, all wearing the most ridiculous outfits Danny had ever seen. He caught glimpses of croc hats, sequinned leggings, zoot suits, weed socks - even a full-body Gritty costume.

“What—you think your poor taste in fashion can defeat me?”  Butch chuckled.

“Maybe not,” Tali said, flying to join Vic at the front of the small army.  “But these are some of the best phighters this side of the ghost zone. And some of the best employees too.  So without further monologuing—PHIGHT!”

The ghosts charged at Birch Tree, some holding their weapons from earlier on in the phight, some just wielding standard-issue ectoblasts and fists.  Regardless of fighting style, all had the rabid violent enthusiasm one would expect from an elite team of shitposters.

Before he could be overwhelmed, Butch quickly threw up a translucent red barrier.  Spacegravedoodles smashed directly into it, their barred sunglasses shattering on impact.

“MY EYES!”  They cried, forgetting to hover and falling towards the depths of the ghost zone.

“See?  Your lawless fanon is powerless here,” Butch taunted.  

“It’s pronounced PHANON!”  Ectopusses shouted before shattering the barrier with a sharp kick from her guac-coated flip flops.  Butch covered his heads as the red shards fell around him.

“Alright team, here’s our chance!”  Tali called.  “Go for the gauntlet!”

From there, all semblance of order broke down as approximately 20 ghosts fought to reach the metal gauntlet.  At least in all the chaos, Butch was too distracted to use it.  The chaos only compounded when a familiar tune began to play from behind them.  It was a glitchy song being scratched out, but a few words were recognizable.

“Phantom Planet’s not canon, F you,”  Lexosaurus beatboxed behind them while dabbing.  The music sent Butch into a rage; his eyes glowed with the threat of an ectoblast.

“Get down!”  Fantasma-Exspiravit (who was wearing a vampire costume) shouted, but not soon enough to save Gosteon, who was blasted backwards into the abyss.  Meanwhile, Phantombreadproject (in a dress made of ballpit balls) and Cluelessintheusa (in horrible pink-and-blue leggings) attempted to tackle Butch from behind.

“Surprise attacks?  Please, I created your reality.”  He spun and punched the two of them so hard they were sent flying.  “I know what you’re going to do before you do.  How do you expect to defeat me?”

From further back, where they were floating invisibly, Tucker whispered to Danny and Sam.

“He’s got a point.  If he actually did create this place somehow, how can we beat him?”

“We beat Pariah Dark,” Danny said, though his voice was grim.  “We can beat this frootloop too.  But… they might need some help.”

“Danny,” Sam warned, “I don’t know what he wants with you, but be careful.  Whatever it is, it can’t be good.”

She didn’t have to tell him that twice.  Any strange old men claiming to be his father had bad news written all over them.  Ignoring the danger, though, he flew up to the fray.

“Hey, Birch Tree!  It’s me you want, not them!”

Sam smacked her forehead.  “So much for being careful.”

His voice distracted Butch long enough for needstobehelped (who was unrecognizable under her Grundy costume) to get him in a headlock.  Butch grunted, scraping at her furry arms.

“Nngh… you shoul’ve… gone for the hand.”  With one snap from his gauntleted fingers, needstobehelped was gone.

No one had time to wonder what that meant for her.  They just had to get rid of Butch, now.

Danny launched ectoblasts from a (relatively) safe distance, careful to avoid hitting the ghosts on his side.  Still, it was such a mess that he accidentally blasted Ifellbecausegravity, who was wearing a suit similar to his – only hers had advertisements from Nasty Burger glued to it.  Why hadn’t he thought of that?  It would’ve been one way he could’ve made money while working as a full-time superhero – but that wasn’t important right now.

“Danny, don’t you remember me?”  Butch asked with mock hurt.  “I’ve missed you, son.  Why don’t you come back with me and we can give you the fourth season you deserved?”

“He deserves better than you, dipstick!”  Voidetrap said while decking him with a gloved Minion arm.  The hit barely fazed him; he flicked her away as if she were a pesky bug.

“As I was saying,” Butch cleared his throat, “don’t you want to see what I could’ve done for you?  You’re stuck in limbo.  Why, after Phantom Planet, you would’ve–”

There it was again: Phantom Planet.  Those two words set off a buzzing pain in Danny’s head.  He gripped at his hair, crying out when the pain intensified.

“Ah, I see.  You’re just now starting to remember.  These so-called fans have brainwashed you to the point that you’ve forgotten everything.”

Had they?  Had he – was he supposed to –

“You’ve got to fight it, Danny!”  Tali urged him.  “Birch Tree will do anything to manipulate you!”

“And these ghosts will do anything to keep you broken,” Butch sneered while grappling with What-is-love-babey-dont-hurt-me, who was wearing short shorts with Enemy of the State plastered across the butt.  “You should see the angst they’ve written about you!  Dissections.  Pain. Your family abandoning you.  Why would you listen to them?”

“Because we care about him!”  What-is-love-babey-dont-hurt-me said.  “He’s just a tool to you so you can make even more clickbait videos and pretend you’re still relevant!”

Butch snarled and finally shook her off; she went tumbling into the abyss, but another ghost took her place.

“The saturation on all of your art is way too bright!” Luma said, decking him over the head with their pillow.

“That… that would explain a lot.”  Danny shook off his uncertainties. Whatever kind of ghost Butch was, he didn’t deserve control over Danny’s life.  “You may have started my story, but I’m going to finish it!”

His legs morphed into his ghostly tail as he flew forward, ramming into Butch with his shoulder.  The breath knocked from his chest, Butch tumbled back - but not before Dots (in a full-body suit covered in Dannos) and Bibliophileap (in an outfit too terrible to be described) could grab hold of the Reality Gauntlet.

“Pull!”  Dots cried, and the two ghosts heaved for all they were worth.  Though they were still tumbling along with Butch, they managed to right themselves and exert all the energy they had left.  The Reality Gauntlet finally dislodged from his hand with a sharp pop.

“NO!”  Butch cried.  “This is my show!  Mine!  I created your childhood!”

“Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t.”  Vic shrugged

“Either way, we decide where we go from here.”  Tali smirked as Bibliophileap and Dots brought back the gauntlet.  “As winner of the honorable mention round, Five-Rivers should get to do the honors.”

“Back to the Shadow Realm for you.” Verbally-Situational-Irony flashed her Yu-Gi-Oh cards as Five-Rivers put on the gauntlet, having to slip it under her bedsheet covering first.

“You are the weakest link,” Five-Rivers said.  “Goodbye.”

She snapped.

“No, wait!  I don’t want to go –  just think of all the YouTube videos we could’ve made together!  You could’ve been buff instead of a twiggly little twink like these idiots make you!”  His body began to crumble to dust.  “Daniel! Wait!  I don’t want to–”

“Oh, and Birch?”  Tali cut him off with a grin.  “It’s ‘yo.’ Not ‘young.’”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”  Was his last cry before his form completely dissolved, scattered to the ends of the ghost zone by a gentle wind.

Lexx stopped beatboxing in order to cheer, and soon that cheer was taken up by all the ghosts as they returned to the site of the now-nonexistent arena.

“Wow,” Sam said as she and Tucker floated towards Danny.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” he laughed.  “That was weird.”

“Does your head still hurt?”  She asked.

“Nah.  I think I’ll be fine, as long as no one tries to tell me what a Phantom Planet is.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t,” Tali assured him, then called to the rest of the ghosts.  “Alright, guys!  Stand clear!”

There was a confused mutter before Vic took the megaphone and explained.  “We’re bringing back the stadium, so unless you want to get crushed, get your butts out of the way!”

After being told twice, the crowd finally cleared.  Five-Rivers, still wielding the Reality Gauntlet, waved her arm.  As it passed over the space where the stadium once was, the architecture rebuilt itself out of nothing.  The ghosts who’d been yeeted off by Butch reappeared as well, blinking in disorientation.

Tali sniffed, wiping her eyes.  “It’s beautiful.  Phight Club, I’ll never let you get destroyed by a crazy ghost with a superiority complex ever again.”

The crowd cheered, flooding back into the stadium.  All except for Tali, Danny, Sam, and Tucker.

“So, uh… is he really gone?”  Danny had to ask.  He’d thought the Reality Gauntlet was destroyed before, and it had come back.  What was to say Butch couldn’t too?

Tali sighed.  “I’m not sure a ghost like that can ever truly be gone.  But if he comes back, we’ll yeet him into the nether realm.”

“Fair enough.  But about the Reality Gauntlet…”

“We’ll take good care of it,” Tali said with a knowing smile, the kind that let Danny know it wasn’t up for discussion.  “If Birch Tree does come back, we’ll need a way to defend ourselves.”

“No way,” Sam said.  “No one should have that kind of power.”

Tali raised her eyebrows.  “What are you going to do, take it from us?”

She started a retort, then bit her lip.  Tali nodded as if that settled that.

“Oh!  There’s one thing I almost forgot!”

She sounded her kazoo to the tune of the Danny Phantom theme song.

“Birch Tree Fartman is unable to battle!  Five-Rivers – and the collective Phandom Phight Club – win!”

@five-rivers is the winner of the Honorable Mention Round!  Mod Vic is working on your certificate for winning, but she has finals coming up so it might be a little while before it’s done.  Thanks everyone for phighting with us!