#vessels do get a longer lifespan though

[cosmicheartz]

I think it’s rlly funny that I went from “ oh Solange and Haro don’t interact much “ to “ they have a mentorship dynamic postgame but after Rataus death Solange gets unhealthily attached to Haro being a father/familial figure to her and Haro doesn’t exactly know how to feel about it because while he doesn’t dislike her he never really saw him as more than a mentor to help her adjust to godhood/divinity “

[bluegekk0]

// The Cycle //

(au details below)

After his banishment from The Gods' Plane, Grimm is too weak to sustain his physical form indefinitely. As a result, his physical body is stuck in an endless cycle of death and rebirth, as its lifespan is limited and its powers are limited

The Nightmare King, and his physical body, Troupe Master Grimm, are the same being separated by the barrier between the physica world and his nightmare realm. They exist simultaneously, they share thoughts, memories and personality traits, although their physical appearance differs - the physical body is smaller, its body lacks the extensive fluff, and is more organic in nature. Within the nightmare realm and with the Nightmare Heart's power, Grimm has full control over the body's physical and physiological aspects, and so its appearance may change following each ritual if he so desires. However, each body withers away over time, and thus it must be replaced periodically. Unfortunately, with the Heart's limited power, the vessel must spawn in a reduced form and grow with the help of his troupe (or any volunteer). Collecting nightmare flame speeds up the process, as does the presence of the previous body, which then gets consumed by flame and replaced by the new vessel

---

Stage I ("Grimmspawn") - the vessel that spawns from the nightmare flame. It is small in size, but capable of flight. Its legs and arms are underdeveloped, and its body is covered in fluff. Its eyes are closed, and the head is similar in shape to a teardrop, as the horns are not separated in this stage

Stage II ("Grimmchild") - having absorbed nightmare flame, the vessel grows in size and its limbs develop. The headshape resembles that of the final form, although its body is noticeably more serpentine in shape, and its fluff covering is more sparse. Consuming more flame allows it to continue growing until it reaches its final stage

Stage III ("Troupe Master") - after the previous vessel is consumed by flame, another takes its place. This form is most commonly known as the Troupe Master Grimm, or simply just Grimm. Despite its status as a vessel, it stands equal with the Nightmare King - it is with this body that Grimm is able to interact with the physical world, and so this stage lasts the longest, up to a few months

However, in this form, Grimm requires blood in order to sustain his physiological functions for a longer period of time, as his heart and circulatory system are weak. Similarly, he rarely uses the full extent of his powers, as doing so weakens him and forces him to rest in order to regain his strength. Although he lacks the long tail and the wings of his previous stages, his cloak can move around and warp into different shapes, most commonly into tendrils and spikes

Despite his weak heart, Grimm's body functions as you'd expect - he is capable of consuming and digesting food, and even reproduction (though the body is usually designed to be infertile, as a preventive measure). Interestingly, he is unable to cry, likely due to the unnatural aspect of his eyes

Stage IV - if the ritual is delayed for whatever reason, Grimm's body starts showing noticeable signs of decay. He becomes physically weak, he gradually loses his voice, and he starts shedding fur from his limbs. The flame rages from within his body, and smoke escapes through his wounds. His eyes lose their scarlet color and start leaking, making him appear as if he's weeping. The body eventually burns down, and if this occurs outside of a ritual, the next vessel is unable to consume its flame, meaning it takes a much longer time to grow. Grimm rarely allows himself to reach this stage, preferring to replace the body while it is still in a functioning state, as it makes the entire process much smoother

[thebiscuitlabryinth]

Cookiekind, in general, seems to hold the strange belief that Shadow Milk Cookie, as the Beast of Deceit, does not understand truth. This is because they have burnt ash for brains, and cannot comprehend that a change in superficial title does not mean that Shadow Milk Cookie is no longer the Master of Knowledge. Even if it did, a deciever can only be effective by understanding the nuance of truth, for the greatest lies are created through its flexibility.

So despite popular opinion, Shadow Milk does recognise, understand and know truth. Well, he knows everything, but especially something as fundamental as that.

Look, here's a truth, right now; Shadow Milk Cookie quite likes Pure Vanilla Cookie, in spite of everything.

Not in the soft, fluffy cotton candy way, of course. Shadow Milk likes Pure Vanilla in the same way a cat likes a mouse, or a researcher likes a test subject, or a puppeteer has a favourite puppet. He likes him because he is a source of entertainment – having such a soft, simple heart makes him fun to watch struggle with silly emotions, and easy to taunt and frazzle. That's all, really. Shadow Milk can't even say he likes him to the point of wanting to crack him open and see what makes him tick, because he doesn't need to. He already knows everything about Pure Vanilla, right down to the composition of the yeast in his body, because he has constantly kept his eyes on him since the start.

It must be said though, if we are to talk in truths, that Shadow Milk may have some biases that make him more invested in Pure Vanilla's continued existence. Namely, the fact that he holds his Soul Jam.

Now, obviously he doesn't like that this little half-cookie, this unworthy, flimsy vessel, holds half his power. On the contrary, it is nothing but an insult to watch him clumsily flaunt it around while Shadow Milk stays unjustly shackled. It is the only transgression Pure Vanilla has ever committed against him, but it is a blasphemous one.

And yet, even with his bubbling rage at the disrespectful theft of his rightful power, Shadow Milk sometimes likes to toy with the idea that he is a gift, a plea for forgiveness from the Witches that he can righteously ignore. After all, Pure Vanilla has his Soul Jam – his, not theirs – and does that not make Pure Vanilla his too?

Naturally, Shadow Milk knows that the Witches are horrible, selfish old tyrants and would not grant him that grace, but that does not change the fact that Pure Vanilla is, for all intents and purposes, his other half. There is something powerful in that knowledge, especially since he knows it would tear Pure Vanilla apart.

So Shadow Milk does like Pure Vanilla quite a lot, even with the full knowledge that he's a dirty little thief, because he is entertaining and, most importantly, he is his.

Now, here is another truth, since we're already on a roll; Shadow Milk Cookie will escape the Seal and get his Soul Jam back.

It's an inevitability, really. Even if Shadow Milk feels like he is absolutely crumbling of boredom stuck in this stupid tree, especially since the rest of the Beasts have one by one drifted into a bitterly restless slumber, they are all far too strong to be contained by a single measly seal forever. The day will come when it gives way beneath the probing of his hands, and with the cracks in the tree nearly large enough for him to stick his fingers through, he knows that day will come much, much sooner than later.

As for what comes after he escapes? Well, Shadow Milk has no concerns there.

The Faerie Cookies may have longer lifespans than average, but sadly that doesn't make them any smarter. It'll be a piece of cake to knead their doughy brains into doing what he wants them to, even with half his power missing. The Guardian is the only one who poses any real threat, and even that has a laughably easy solution, because he certainly isn't immune to crumbling.

Shadow Milk picks at the slim seam of the cracks with hands that are not his own, encouraging them to grow as he takes a moment to fantasise standing over the Guardian's pathetic crumbs.

Speaking of laughably easy solutions, Pure Vanilla is awfully kind to come to Beast-Yeast, right on the cusp of Shadow Milk's escape! Really, Shadow Milk was estatic when he overheard him discussing those travel plans. It saves him the trouble of having to track him down once he's finished freeing his friends and razing the Faeriewoods to the ground.

Even better, having Pure Vanilla around to welcome him back to the free air could prove to be useful. It would be so deliciously poetic, for Pure Vanilla to cut down the tree with his stolen power and set Shadow Milk free with his own hands, offering himself up in a syrupy spotlight to reunite the two lost halves of Knowledge to its true owner.

Shadow Milk could push him into it, he thinks confidently as he twists his claws into the fracture, grappling at the edges to force them wider. He knows Pure Vanilla better than Pure Vanilla knows himself, he is sure. It wouldn't even be hard.

Now, let's review! Shadow Milk Cookie quite likes Pure Vanilla Cookie, that is the first truth. And he will escape the Seal and get his Soul Jam back, that is the second.

These truths coexist, and because they do, Shadow Milk has long decided he won't immediately crumble Pure Vanilla into fine dust when he takes his Soul Jam back.

Oh, he could, and so easily too. Shadow Milk has held Pure Vanilla's hunched form in his palms dozens of times, in the pit of the abyss, has felt how fragile and weak it is – not that Pure Vanilla ever notices, the silly, blind thing. He has curled his claws around his silhouette like a cage countless times, and entertained and irritated himself with how easy it would be to crush him in one fell swoop.

Yes, he could crumble him without a second thought, but that wouldn't be much fun, would it? It's not like he needs to destroy him to be able to retrieve his Soul Jam, and really, it would be a bit of a waste. He's been waiting to meet him – really, truly meet him – for oh so long, to get rid of him immediately would just be anticlimatic. Nobody likes a boring ending, least of all Shadow Milk.

There is a sudden, audible crack, and Shadow Milk's hands finally breach the containment of the bark, fingers quickly scrambling to anchor themselves on the edges of the open wound. An uncontrollable, wild grin splits across Shadow Milk's face, or whatever is currently left of it, wide and eager.

He lurches forward, all of his eyes narrowing in on the wispy traces of light outside, with the exception of the one that always follows Pure Vanilla like a curse, currently watching him settle into an airship with some teeny, insignificant Cookies. Anticipation begins to simmer the endless darkness around him, finally, finally, finally making him feel alive for the first time in far too long.

Somewhere nearby, Silent Salt is slowly beginning to rouse, and Shadow Milk's grin stretches even wider. They don't make a sound and hardly move, but Shadow Milk knew they would be the first to wake. They always are.

Finally, a third truth, to neatly complete the rule of threes; Shadow Milk Cookie is looking forward to properly introducing himself and the other Beasts to Pure Vanilla Cookie.

This one doesn't need any further explanation. After all, there is nothing more thrilling than a good reveal.

The wood groans pitifully beneath his harsh grip, the noise mingling with the distant thrum of an airship in motion, and Shadow Milk's quiet but sharp giggling.

Ah, he can't wait to see Pure Vanilla's face when he realises the true identity of his precious Light of Truth.

[cecenyss]

~spoilers below~

Okay so the Heian Period that Sukuna lived lasted from 794 to 1185. Getting rid of the time after 1018 because that no longer qualifies as 1000 years ago and I’m petty like that means that the time when he lived at some point between 800 and 1018, so probably ninth or tenth century.

That still leaves two hundred years of time for him to have lived, and this is under the assumption that he even lived a human lifespan, which he absolutely might not have considering he had four arms for some unexplained reason (seriously he was a human being before dying right? I didn’t imagine that?).

The Fujiwara family was clearly important, though it’s hard to say whether that’s a new, sorcerer thing made up by Gege Akutami or if it’s actually meant to represent the Fujiwara clan of actual Heian Period Japan. Honestly it could be either but I’m fairly certain it is meant to be the same because otherwise that’s just confusing and I choose to believe this universe makes sense on some level for my own sanity.

We know the Fujiwara clan battled with Sukuna in some way because in chapter 219 in that flashback with Yorozu the gossiping people said that he defeated two major elite warriors of that clan’s northern forces, the one that Uro led and the one that Yorozu defeated and later got “recognized” and moved to the capital for.

Now I did some basic googling and the Fujiwara clan was founded in the year 668, but the Northern Fujiwara were founded in 1087 and disbanded in 1189, which completely discredits what I said in the first paragraph. Great going, me.

Sukuna is well established at this point, meaning he’s been doing… whatever conquering evil curse users do, for a while. Unfortunately we can’t use his appearance to learn literally anything because again he has four arms so he very well might not age.

Anyway in keeping with the Heian period and the founding year of the Northern Fujiwara he had to have been active between 1087 and 1185, which is just under a full century of wiggle room for him to do all his evil Sukuna things.

I don’t know if there’s any other evidence that could help narrow things down because this is a spur-of-the-moment, research rabbit hole type thing I decided to document on tumblr as I went along for no particular reason, but other individuals I know for a fact were alive at this point were Kenjaku, who Sukuna clearly knew; Tengen, who Kenjaku clearly knew; Uro, who led the elite force Sukuna destroyed; Yorozu, who was obsessed with and wanted to marry him; and Uraume, who served him.

Tengen and Kenjaku could very well be older than him, but Yorozu and Uro definitely are not, as they were mortal when they died. Uraume could go either way.

I did some other rabbit hole research and found that the Gojo clan was an actual clan that split off from the Sugawara clan, which was founded by Sugawara no Michizane, who Gojo says is the ancestor of him and Yuta.

If we assume that this is meant to be the Gojo clan of jujutsu kaisen, which isn’t an assumption I’m quite as comfortable making as other assumptions I’ve made here, it was founded some point in the 13th century, though I can’t really find the correct date. This is after the Heian period, despite the Gojo’s saying they were well established during that time.

But regardless of this, they could have existed in some hidden form within the Sugawara clan beforehand, and only became official during that time. After all, that tentative date is public, and I can think of several reasons why curse-wielding sorcerers would want to keep certain things about their family history private from the general public.

This works with what Tengen said about the Six Eyes, Star Plasma Vessel, and Kenjaku being intertwined in fate. Even if my assumptions about the Gojo clan are not correct, the Six Eyes probably predated the Gojo Clan in some form anyway.

Anyway there wasn’t a point to any of this, I’m just bored and rambling. If anybody else has anything more specific about the time period or just wants to talk about jjk worldbuilding and background please do I love headcanons and fleshing out already established worlds.

[fenmere]

Ok, we're going to start an editing pass on The End of the Tunnel today.

So, before we do that, let's introduce one of the cast!

Ashwin Pember

(aka 'ashwin minbäoni)

Ashwin is the narrator and actual author of the book. Which is to say, @ashwin-the-artless lead the cast in writing the book while also crafting a character that was a fictionalized self insert -- as we typically do for our books.

Ashwin’s blog is written in kayfabe, and can be considered canon and supplemtal to all of our storied. So, this post is about nem in character (not our headmate).

English name: Ashwin Pember

English pronouns: they/them, nem/nemself

Inmararräo name: 'ashwin minbäoni

Inmararräo pronoun: nem

gender: what's a gender?

Orientation: ace while on Earth (sexually attracted to other Ktletaccete, not humans - but also their hosts' human body is muddling things with dysphoria)

Background:

Ashwin was conceived some time after the Pembers originally hatched, getting nems identity and name from the hero of a story that their Caretaker read to them.

They were a member of the system throughout the events of the Sunspot Chronicles, but aren't named in any of those books. Then, when the lifespan of their vessel came to its natural end a couple hundred years after the events of Outsider, they played a large role in acting as nurse and custodian for the rest of their system.

Ashwin is one of the rare Ktletaccete who has not yet discovered their Art (a lifelong special interest or passion that neurotypical Ktletaccete develop in adolescence). After a full Ktletaccete life of roughly 450 Earth years and 90 Earth years more of living as an Ancestor (Crew) in the Networks of the Sunspot, nem is anything but inexperienced and unskilled, however.

They do have a tendency to feel as if nem is still a child because of this lack of Art, though.

So, when Phage (the character of @ohthatphage) started exploring the network of Tunnel Apparati that link the Exodus Ships together, and discovered a Tunnel on Earth, and called for volunteers to help it make contact with the people there, Ashwin was the first to stop forward.

It turns out that the first Earthlings that Phage encountered and chose as liaisons (Sarah and Goreth Ampersand) were plural. And they had plural friends (Erik and the Audreys), thanks to the tendancy of people of the same neurotype to find and cling to each other out of sympathy and solidarity.

Since Ashwin had been the member of a system and also had experience ushering nems younger headmates into the world and culture of Ancestry on the Sunspot, they were an easy choice for Phage and the Council to approve as ambassador to Earth.

But it turns out that by going through the Tunnel to Earth, Ashwin has projected their consciousness into the psyche and system of Sarah and Goreth, and must now adapt to human neurology. This has the benefit of bypassing the need to translate English, once Ashwin's presence has grown enough to access the linguistic centers of their brain, but some things still don't fit. And Ashwin is left with physical dysphoria whenever they front alone.

So, it takes them a few weeks to get to the point where they can front and talk to people, and that’s where their book starts.

They have a goal, too. Nem isn't just on Earth to try to find their Art and get to know humans. There's a critical diplomatic mission to fulfill.

The reason there was a Tunnel Apparatus on Earth in the first place is that 22 million years ago, one of the Sunspot’s ancestor ships was traveling through Earth's region of the Milky Way and dropping probes onto planets that looked like they might develop civilizations. The motives of this ship are unknown (it no longer exists to be asked -- something happened to it). But the probe not only has a Tunnel Apparatus on it, but also a tank of construction nanites (part of how it remained functional for so long).

Those nanites pose a risk to Earth. They're programmed to only respond to commands from Earthlings. No Ktletaccete or anyone else can take them away from Earth. But the first Earthlings to learn how to command them or how to replicate them will have the power to transform Earth into their own vision, or reduce it to grey goo.

Ashwin's job is to help Phage vet and train a group of Earthlings to make the right decision before someone makes a terminally bad one.

Sarah, Goreth, and their friends just might be those Earthlings.

[wickedsrest-rp]

NAME: Kitsune (Pl: Kitsune or Kitsunes)

ALSO KNOWN AS: Kumiho (Korean), Huxian (Chinese)

RARITY: ★★★☆☆

QUICK FACTS:

Lifespan: 900-1,000 years

Supernatural abilities: Fox transformation, possession, create foxfire, eat ghosts, healing at cost of tail

Enhanced/special senses: Hearing, sight, smell, sees/hears ghosts (fox form only)

Immunities: Foxfire, will-o'-the-wisps

Weaknesses: Hoshi no tama breaking, claustrophobia, exorcism

Can detect: Possibly species with animal-like scents, possibly undead by not hearing a heartbeat

Detected by: Hunters (rangers), possibly species with heightened sense of smell

Additional notes: This species does not have heightened strength or accelerated healing; kitsune do not have an innate sense to allow them to recognize other kitsune

DESCRIPTION: Originating from Japan, China, and Korea, kitsune (also called kumiho and huxian) are an extremely long-lived species that can shift between fox and human form. A kitsune who is 100 will appear to be in their 30s as a human. Their true form is that of a fox starting with a single tail, and every hundred years they gain an additional tail. A kitsune can have a maximum of nine tails, after which their fur turns white or gold and they gain a sort of omniscience that allows them to communicate telepathically with others. Unsurprisingly given the emphasis on them within the species, many kitsune count their age in tails rather than years, and they cherish their tails more than almost anything else. 

A kitsune may gain a tail by taking an action that transcends their sense of “right,” and can lose a tail by doing something that goes starkly against their core values. Kitsune morality is complicated, so this can mean different things to different individuals. With each tail, a kitsune has a corresponding “hoshi no tama,” which is a luminous orb that spiritually tethers itself to the kitsune. The hoshi no tama make the kitsune more powerful, but must be protected at the cost of the corresponding tail.

The long-lived and magical nature of kitsune means that they often come to value human lives very little; it’s common for them to only care about other supernaturals, particularly those who live a long time. Because they live for so long, they often associate entire lineages of families with the behaviors of a distant ancestor, and often express gratitude or retaliate on someone several generations removed from the person who helped or acted against them. 

Kitsune can be identified by the fox-shaped shadow that they cast, as well as the occasional imperfection in their shapeshifting. While kitsune can eat human food, they have a rather unusual diet, mixing in some fox favorites, as well as the occasional ghost. This strange spectral diet must be tended to at least once every few weeks, and has been known to result in the creation of poltergeists if their meal is left unfinished. Kitsune cannot eat poltergeists or malicious spirits, only the more recently formed ghosts of the deceased, or other benign spiritual beings. 

ABILITIES: Kitsune can transform between fox and human forms quickly and painlessly within a thick, cloudy puff of air, though they famously don’t always get things completely right. In some kitsune lineages, a kitsune must eat the face of a human before they’re able to shift into a human themselves for the first time. In both forms, they have enhanced smelling, hearing, and sight; as such, they may be able to smell the presence of other animal-like shapeshifters or hear the lack of heartbeat from undead (though often not knowing the precise species). 

Kitsune have a number of abilities that are of a spiritual nature. They can see and hear ghosts in fox form, which allows them to locate their food. A kitsune who stays well-fed on ghosts will be able to possess people themselves. The only physical tell of this is that the possessed individual has a fox-shaped shadow. The longer the possession lasts, the greater the risk that the vessel will become sick afterwards, which can result in fever, staticky skin, and malaise. Because sourcing ghosts to eat can be difficult, some kitsune bridge the gap by possessing people and draining small amounts of their lifeforce – something they can only do in this state, and in limited amounts. 

One of their most famous abilities is perhaps their “foxfire,” which refers to creating orbs of blue fire or lightning. They’re able to generate this foxfire from their hands or tails, and can use it as projectiles when threatened. Foxfire may also be used to lure people into certain locations, as it has a hypnotic quality when stared upon that encourages the looker to follow it. Foxfire always looks like orbs of flames or lightning, usually on the smaller side, but kitsune with more tails are able to make larger orbs and better control their direction and duration. Those who make physical contact with foxfire will be burned or electrocuted. Kitsune are immune to their own foxfire as well as the foxfire of other kitsune, but are not immune to other forms of fire and electricity. One exception are will-'o-the-wisps, which kitsune can take control of. 

HOSHI NO TAMA: A kitsune’s hoshi no tama is both its greatest pride and greatest vulnerability. They get one per tail, and if destroyed or lost for good, they’ll lose that tail. Because of this, most kitsune safely stow away their hoshi no tama somewhere not on their person. However, this can limit their benefit as the closer the hoshi no tama physically are to the kitsune, the more they’ll amplify their power. These orbs allow kitsune to finetune control over their foxfire (those with fewer may struggle), increase their foxfire’s power, improve their precision and skill with holding possessions, and even sharpen their senses. Before a hoshi no tama will function it must be charged with spiritual power siphoned from ghosts – 9 of them, to be precise. The hoshi no tama will store the 9 ghosts, which fuel the abilities of the kitsune. Upon breaking, those ghosts will be released, most likely as poltergeists, and are likely to seek revenge for their imprisonment. Breaking a hoshi no tama will allow a kitsune to heal from even severe injuries – but this will, of course, be at the cost of a coveted tail.

WEAKNESS: Finding and destroying a kitsune’s hoshi no tama will limit their power and make them vulnerable. Additionally, they have intense claustrophobia and fear being trapped or locked up, which is very difficult to completely overcome. When exposed to this fear, kitsune essentially become feral foxes, ready to snap at and scratch anyone nearby, until they’ve had time to collect themselves. This can take days, weeks, or even months depending on how long the kitsune was trapped and how their fear was experienced. While not normally sensitive to exorcism rituals, a kitsune who is actively possessing someone can be exorcised from the body using possession rituals adapted for such a purpose. Their pelts are also prized by hunters. Kitsune may have a difficult time holding onto their shapeshifting magic when inebriated, leading to tails showing, whiskers, etc. Kitsune have fur (and skin in human form) that sometimes carries a lot of static electricity, and this can be especially tricky for younger kitsune to control. While the kitsune doesn’t notice, those who touch them certainly do, which can be socially awkward or isolating for the kitsune.

SPECIES DYNAMICS:

While these dynamics are considered to be typical, there are many outliers based on character histories, personalities, development, and plots.

Ghosts: While not all ghosts have been around long enough to know they’re on the menu for kitsune, some are aware or have been warned. It’s not uncommon for ghosts to fear having these foxes go anywhere near them. Though exorcists are surely worse.

Mares: Because shapeshifters are “part animal,” they will sense that something is “off” about a mare and may be uncomfortable, but only when the shapeshifter is in their animal or shifted form. This is mostly a sense of unease, but it can result in hostility or loss of control out of fear. 

Mediums: For the most part, neither mediums nor exorcists appreciate kitsune. Even though they eat ghosts, they leave too many poltergeists behind, making more work for exorcists. Their ability to possess people also makes kitsune feel too close to ghosts for exorcist comfort. A few mediums might find kitsune quite fascinating, wanting to understand how they’re able to feed on ghosts. Kitsune often return their distrust and find it insulting that something as ephemeral as a human could actually cause them harm.

Balam: With their appetite for ghosts, kitsune are often on the lookout for easy spectral pickings. This can lead them right to sucking the spirits out of balam. While this happens only rarely, balam are sometimes considered a delicacy to kitsune. In turn, balam are also taught not only to avoid kitsune, but every single fox… just in case.

Muses: The unchanging nature of long-lived species tends to bore muses, sometimes even painfully so. Muses may stereotype these species, insisting they should be avoided at all costs because being around them may cause pain. This doesn’t always extend to fellow fae, of course. Conversely, more worldly long-lived individuals who keep up with trends and always have something new and interesting to discuss may find themselves captivating a muse.

Phoenixes & Elemental Spellcasters: Kitsune feel strongly that by their very nature, they’ve earned the right to wield fire and lightning like no others. This snobbery can put them in conflict with supernaturals who are also tied to those elements, such as phoenixes and spellcasters. If they can get past their differences (or rather, similarities), they might find that in close proximity, their abilities synergize to be more powerful together than they would be separately.

Fae & the Undead: Kitsune and fae make natural allies and good company for each other. They’re long-lived and – unlike the often miserable undead – tend to be quite vivacious even in their golden years. While the undead might be too woe-is-me for a lively kitsune, they’re even more long-lived (immortal) which can allow for close bonds with kitsune who may have lived through the same years and events. Vampires and zombies may have the hurdle of fearing the foxfire of kitsune.

Mares & Bugbears: The claustrophobia in kitsune may be so intense that even the thought of exposure to their fear can cause dangerous panic. Some may try to avoid bugbears and mares, knowing exactly which fear of theirs will be exploited. Others may be more trusting or simply not be aware of the risk.

Sirens & Banshees: Species with enhanced hearing may find the songs of sirens to be especially beautiful, drawing them toward the siren even from a distance. This can also make them more susceptible to enthrallment. For obvious reasons, those with enhanced hearing also may not appreciate a banshee being nearby… or even further away. Those screams travel. 

Spriggans: The hoshi no tama of kitsune hold a delightful appeal to spriggans, and they would like to steal them, please. An overzealous spriggan may cost a kitsune their tails, and as such, they tend to be very cautious when in a fae-filled area, just in case a spriggan may be in their midst.

VIEW OPEN KITSUNE SKELETONS

[cuppajj]

I do have a lot of quastions about the mech pilot au but these are the ones I'm most curious about:

- how do titans work - do cityspeakers work double time or is something else involved?

- in that vein, what is the Lost Light like? assuming it's part of the mech pilot au similar to your sentient ll au

- do you have any crumbs of mech pilot au mythos/historical records/urban legends to share? I do love me some in-universe lore tidbits

I wrote a little about titans in the greater lore post, so for convenience I'll put what I had here before answering:

Titans are directly spawned from Primus, and the only case of a fully sentient mecha. Curiously though, they can create artificial human bodies to masquerade as an ordinary mech pilot. Some are the size of entire cities, though others are only the size of massive starships. Long ago, the city titans served as as vessels tasked to form colonies on other planets, while the starship titans were talked to chart the edges of the known universe. However, some have remained on Cybertron, and their artificial human consciousnesses walk among ordinary society. Their speakers are real humans who attain cybernetic attachments to help them last longer with their titan, but they are still mortal and die after thousands of years.

On that note:

Speakers are normal humans who receive cybernetic enhancements that extend their lifespan, so they can serve their respective titan the same way they do in the normal universe. They're still mortal however, and are rotated once every ~10,000 years. Being a speaker is a lifelong commitment, and much of their time is devoted to being with their respective titan. It's kinda similar to going to live in a monastery, what with the potential isolation and commitment, but speakers still get more free time than that.

okay so I’m kinda in contention with if I actually want LL to be sentient here, my brain really wants them to be canonically sentient in the main au (esp because the events of MTMTE don’t really happen here) but at the same time, I don’t want to go inserting sentient LL into everything since they’re technically an au in themself! I know mech pilot is my own au but still 😂 that being said I def wrote some parts of the lore post with LL in mind so maybe, anyway: Sentient!LL would be a titan who spends most of their time using their artificial human form (titans don’t turn into humans, they’re more like puppets they control remotely with their own consciousness). Pyxis, their first and only speaker, died eons ago, and they haven’t had another since. Light would be friends with the staff at the academy/organization that trains mech pilots and sends them on missions, especially the uppers (Ultra Magnus in particular). He also hangs out with Rodimus, though their dynamic isn’t the same as it is in the normal SLLAU. Light is still parental in nature to him, but they’re more of an aunt/uncle or family friend figure who isn’t always there but brightens everyone’s day when they are. LL the titan is the same size as their normal counterpart I’d say, which in human proportions is a lot bigger. They were likely meant to serve as an arkship, but they might’ve been a little late to the party.

Still working on the lore bits but for some small bits I’ve been thinking about: humans (cybertronians) have colonies on other planets outside the main set of planets, and there are ancient ruins scattered throughout the galaxy rumored to be built by the knights of cybertron (Rodimus is interested in this). I said these to you in dms but just to reiterate here for everyone else: The best of the best pilots have been to Unicron (The primes and their closest allies), and they’re actually tracking his movement, and there’s a routine visit to it to keep the tracker up to date. The guiding hand was like the first five pilots (with rung in possession of the first forged from Primus’s core), while the 13 were the first 13 to traverse the stars. This could change though so nothing guaranteed!

The quintessons might’ve been Quintus Prime’s fault, splitting from everyone and deciding to do funky life making magic on a desolate planet isn’t going to end well if you mess up

The organization that hires and trains mech pilots is an offshoot of a special organization that has been guarding the planet since before the era of Optimus. Postwar, most of this org consists of Autobots with Optimus himself at the helm.

[iztarshi]

Hallownest and Time

It’s really hard to judge how long ago Hallownest fell when some bugs talk about it as living memory and others as ancient history. I’ve seen “stasis” mentioned in fic a lot (and in putting this together found out where it comes from, I think), but I was curious to look at implications in the game myself.

People who are useless to judge by:

Vessels have unknown lifespans.

The Dreamers are presumably in stasis.

The White Lady is a god and Hornet is a demi-god.

Ze’mer and the Seer may be ghosts of some sort, they fade away when you fulfil their last wishes.

Eternal Emilitia’s name makes her rather suspect to judge time by.

People who talk as if it’s ancient history:

Lemm, and by implication the group of relic seekers he’s in touch with. This might be a result of the disaster being so thorough there’s no one left to ask (and both the wastes and the infection potentially cause amnesia) so it has to be treated as ancient history to be divined from relics.

Quirrel, while amnesiac, which might add weight to the first point.

Elderbug, who is the greatest evidence for it genuinely being ancient history. He remembers the town waning, but he remembers its heyday as one of adventurers come to explore ruins, not a time when Hallownest was thriving.

People who are still around:

The Last Stag, who is perhaps the greatest evidence for it not being ancient history. He remembers when Hallownest was a bustling place, but he remembers it from when he was young. Having grown old since implies he’s not in any kind of statis. (Do stag beetles live longer than other bugs?)

Jiji. She appears to have been hibernating, and may be a cicada, in which case her larval stage may well last longer than the lifecycles of many bugs.

The midwife. A mystery. But she remembers Hornet’s childhood.

Quirrel, who hasn’t even been in the kingdom. Would the connection to a Dreamer be enough to halt his aging?

The Mantis Lords. Assuming they’re still the same ones who were sisters to the Traitor Lord, whose daughter was lover to Ze’mer, they seem to have been around during the fall of Hallownest.

Salubra, who doesn’t seem to realise the infection happened, taking not getting out much to an extreme.

Ogrim. Who continues the theme of those who remain staying in one place and not knowing what’s going on elsewhere by not knowing Isma is dead.

And in the same vein the snail shaman, who believes his family is alive and well.

Mysterious:

The mask maker. They’re the one who mentions a stasis, but they’re not at all clear on whether they’re talking about Hallownest from memory or hearsay or mystic revelation.

Myla. Is she a newcomer trying to mine an old kingdom, or one of the many beetle miners that used to work there lost to time?

Conclusion

A lot of the bugs in Hallownest that aren’t infected do seem to be in a kind of stasis - there aren’t many of them, but most of them date back to the fall of Hallownest, and often they don’t seem entirely clear it has fallen. Dirtmouth doesn’t seem affected.

The Stag Beetle, though, doesn’t seem to be in stasis and it did still fall in his lifetime.

[soranis-sunshadow]

I don’t think Hordak is that old

There seems to be a misconception running around the fandom that Hordak is centuries or millennia old and that makes him and Entrapta incompatible. It gives odd and uncomfortable vibes to their whole relationship to a lot of SPOP fans even to those that know Entrapta is a 30 year old woman. I have no idea where that started from. There is no in-show evidence of Hordak being ancient.

I mean, look at that baby face...

Whereas Horde Prime is confirmed to be millennia old and he does have his old bodies still alive in the vats, thus confirming the fact that the clones do have very long lifespans (a lot longer than a human’s), no such thing is ever directly mentioned about Hordak himself. 

It is to be noted that although Horde Prime and his little brothers are genetically identical since the little brothers are his clones, they are not physically identical.

Horde Prime does have the extra set of eyes, that are added on surgically (taken from other clones) as suggested by members of the Crew-Ra. He is also noticeably taller than his brothers. 

This might be because he stunts their development in some way or enhances his own vessel hormonally. Or perhaps the little brothers are not allowed to reach full maturity and Prime recycles them once they reach a certain age. Juvenile minds are far less likely to question dogma after all and far less likely to usurp Prime. This is all speculation on my part.

The only information about the clone’s age we are shown is that they are released from the vats once they are functionally fully formed. The young clone’s garb is shown as being the skirt-less variety.

Here’s Wrong Hordak being “born” and programmed.

The only information we might have about Hordak himself comes from the backstory in season 3. He is an unreliable narrator though so this information should be taken with a grain of salt. He has after all declared himself a “general” in that backstory and come season 5, it is patently obvious that Prime had no need for one nor do the clones hold specific jobs. They are all interchangeable. In the case one needed correction via JellO dip, no important information and skills would be lost in the mind wipe.

Hordak remembers himself as such though:

  and

Notice something? 

He is wearing the garb of a fresh clone, not the skirt outfit of the other “older” brothers. Curious no? I wonder why this little detail was added in...

This suggests that he might have been a fresh clone or at least a young one when the defect was found. 

Judging by Micah’s age in the Episode Light Spinner, and the information that The Horde was a new faction steamrolling across the planet, Hordak has been on Etheria for at most 30 years if not a bit less.

In conclusion: 

Hordak is an alien clone that has a potential lifespan of centuries or perhaps even millennia. He was brought on the planet by Light Hope after his progenitor sent him on a suicide mission on the battlefield shortly after he was discovered to be deflective. There is speculation on how long the discovery might have taken but given that the clones are programmed from the get-go, some of his memories of Horde Prime’s love for him might have been planted into him upon activation. What we are shown is that he had the newborn clone garb on when he was sent to die.  He is potentially very young for his species.

If anything, Entrapta is the cradle robber...

[omorphiavelvet]

Kiss of Death.

The rain was incredibly tranquil, bouts of pitter-patter dropped onto different surfaces of concrete, creating a constant tempo and rhythm, one that could easily lull anyone to sleep. The imminent thunder was absent, but lightning would show itself every now and then, nonetheless, the rain poured. 

On the many surfaces, the raindrops landed, stood two people. Boys, one tall and the other short by a considerable margin. The short, fair-skinned boy was clearly battered, holding his wounded arm whilst a cross lodged into the ground stood beside him, the glow of the markings within the cross was faint, and the black hues outside the markings only begun to serve as a contrast to the faint but determined glow. 

The boy he was facing was unscathed, but it was clear how he was irritated and unwilling to tire himself out. He held a regal air over his lean and tall figure, hands behind his back as his lances stood by his side much like an extension of his regalia. His sculptured face was slashed neatly on the cheek, and although the wound has long healed, the scar was visible. 

“How long do you intend to do this? You cannot defeat me.” The taller spoke, voice cold, clearly irritated, but his deep voice eerily calm as he gives the boy a cold stare, his brown eyes dull and empty. 

The shorter boy merely scoffed, as battered as he may be, he was not one to give up easily. Letting go of his wounded arm to see that it no longer bled, but only left a scar, his own eyes glaring up in determination towards the taller, as the cross split lengthwise, and spears popped out of its mechanisms, adorned with onyx-silver chains.

“Until you give him back.” the shorter started with a stammer, grabbing a spear from the cross and clutching it tight in his hand, “I’m not going anywhere!” he declares, charging towards the man as the spears from the cross soon followed. 

The taller made no move to intercept his oncoming attack, as the shorter lifted himself off of his feet and threw the spear as a preemptive strike, with frightening accuracy to add as the spear aimed to lunge itself at the man’s chest. 

A portal opens within the spear’s trajectory, swallowing the object as another portal opened behind the shorter, spitting the spear back out with the blunt end as it knocks him over, nearly groveling at the taller’s feet had it not been for his hands that stopped the momentum.

“You are weak,” the man spoke again, “The honkai may have chosen you to hold a core, but you are no more than an ordinary human holding a powerful weapon, how do you intend to stop me, a god?” this time, his cold voice turned into a mocking one as he floats up to the air. 

A barrage of portals surround the weakened boy, and within an instant, lances were spat out, though clearly aimed to kill him, they only bound and immobilized him, restricting his movement with the sheer girth of the lances. 

“Give…” the boy started, shaking in determination and pure fury, making the lances vibrate, “Mingyu back!” he cried out as the lances that held him shattered, jumping up towards the taller with renewed vigor, his tattered blue and black getup replaced with white and lilies adorned the edge of his garment as the marking on his back glows a soft yet regal blue. 

The man, with his irritation, now etched on his handsome face, summons a force of shockwave as it pushes everything within the back with terrifying power, but the boy, suspended in mid-air, refused to budge and only sought to have the man within an arms reach.

Within fingertips reach and before the taller could make any moves to get away, a collection of crosses sprouted out of thin air, surrounding the pair as chains sprouted out, binding the taller in quick succession as the crosses immediately planted themselves to the ground, leaving the dust to settle. 

The man now kneeling down at the mercy of the shorter, was wrapped and completely immobilized. 

Meanwhile, the shorter was panting, out of breath as he held the man by the cheeks, his gloved hands were gentle as if holding a lover’s face, perhaps to even kiss him. But the shorter’s sight was on the ground, trying to regain his composure and focus his sight. 

“Two cores. . .reason and death no less.” The taller spoke, after a while of silence, “and to wield a weapon of the previous era so effortlessly, that’s foolish.” he remarked, though no trace of emotion was heard in his voice. 

“You’re just a pathetic human, how could you have all this power?” He finished, disdain and envy clear in his deep yet distorted voice. 

“I told you...I’m different.” The boy choked out, his voice clearly weak, but the look in his eyes once he looked up to face the taller was enough to back up his statement. 

“Now...give Mingyu back.” He states, composure now regained as he never lets up his rather gentle grip on his visage, his eyes still holding the same amount of determination despite his rather calm voice. 

“Oh...you mean this body?” The man merely scoffed, “Without my core, this man is merely a husk, a doll if you will.” He answered. 

“Stop spouting bullshit and give him back to me!” his voice shook in anger, though he tries to sound as level-headed as possible.

“It’s true, the man you call your lover...Mingyu, was it?” he started mockingly, “He’s long gone- ah, that’s not fair to say, it’s more plausible to say that I am him.” The menacing declaration only served to fuel the shorter’s already bubbling anger.

“Stop lying and give him back!” The shorter tried, releasing a gust of power the rendered the nearby plant life as good as dead as his eyes were no longer humane, his pupils and irises now shaped into a cross, tilted to an angle, more specifically, an x. 

“Why do you keeping asking for him? He’s just a clone, a vessel made to house my soul.” The man asks, incredulous, making no moves to attack, but rather he was trying to comprehend how this human went to great lengths for a human, a clone even. 

The shorter succumbed to his knees, his pants returned, til they turned into soft sobbing, his hand slipping from his cheeks and to the neat blazer the taller wore, clutching it tightly as he kneels, humiliated, tired, and heartbroken. 

“Please...” he hiccupped, pleaded to particularly no one as he lets out choked out sobs, looking up to face the other, cheeks tear-stained as they continue to flow, looking straight into the taller’s eyes, his determination long tempered into grief. 

“Give him...give me Mingyu back…” He continued, his sobs becoming coughed out as he feels himself being ripped apart by a force stronger than anything he had encountered, “I’ll do anything, please, just give him back…” He begged. 

The tranquil rain was no longer tranquil, as the arrival of the roaring thunder filled the grieving silence between the two figures, one bound by chains and the other holding onto them, placed in the center of the collection of crosses that surrounded them. 

Before the taller could mock the other’s pitiful state of being, a flurry of memories rushed and flooded his senses. Memories of the one they call Mingyu. 

“Mingyu, you have to let go of me.” A gentle voice resounded, too familiar not to be recognized by the one who possessed the taller.

“No! I refuse!” The shorter, presumably Mingyu, petulantly refused, holding onto the arm of a boy with eyes closed. 

“Mingyu, come on.” The gentle voice began, as a hand reached to cup the other’s sunkissed visage. 

“This isn’t how you play tag. Now, will you let me go? I promise to treat you to ice cream if you manage to catch me next time you’re it.” The gentle voice soothed the child, though not much taller than him as he wriggles his arm out of his grip and brushes some of the messed up tufts of raven black hair away from Mingyu’s sight. 

Memories continued to flash in front of the taller. Laughter, tears, kisses, and the way the certain figures held each other, love clearly so evident in their shared gazes and longing stares. 

Another memory began to play within his sight. 

“Mingyu, look! I’m officially a valkyrie!” The gentle voice, now much cheerful and rather proud, showed himself off to Mingyu, who was all grown up, much, much taller than the owner of the voice. 

“Valkyrie?” Mingyu tilts his head in confusion, “Isn’t the title for girls?” He asks, blinking slowly. 

“Ah! well...Principal Theresa and the higher-ups decided to name me that for the time being...until I’m officially put in a squad, I’m an A-rank Valkyrie!” He explains meekly. 

“Really? I thought you were aiming to be S-rank?” 

“Well, I barely passed the written part of the exam.” 

Soft laughter emitted from the pair as Mingyu lifts up the shorter, singing words of praise for him. 

The last memory was too vivid to be called anything but recent.

“Mingyu, no!” the voice cried out, “Let me hold the core instead! Your body might not take another core!” 

“I can’t let you do everything!” Mingyu replied. 

The boy stopped in his tracks. 

“You think I didn’t know?” Mingyu says, and for the first time, his voice broke from the sadness. 

Flashes of memories began showing again, showing the familiar back of the shorter, adorned with the mark of an orchid flower and a frazzled orb. 

“Two years,” A blue-haired girl started. “That’s all you have left,” She explained. 

“The cores may be benevolent in nature, but the honkai energy is ultimately a chaotic force that powers the cores.” She explained. “Even if we took out the cores from your body, your Honkai adaptability, will do next to nothing to improve your lifespan.” 

the boy, now draped in hospital gowns with things attached to his wrist, smiled sadly, giving out a soft sigh. 

“I guess it was only a matter of time, huh?” he muttered, looking at his palms in silent thought. 

he looks back up to the blue-haired woman before him, “can I make one request, professor?” 

“go ahead.” 

“Can you not tell this to Mingyu? I want to be able to tell him myself, at least.” 

“Alright, but you'll have to tell him quick, that boy's been sweating buckets ever since he found you in the shipwreck.” 

The shorter merely chuckled. 

Little did the pair know, Mingyu was listening from the other side of the wall, a stray tear falling down from his cheek as his lips quivered.

He returns to the prior memory. 

“You always try to do everything, always trying to save everyone! And maybe it is for the better…” Mingyu started. 

“But why am I the only one who feels this way?” He continued. 

“I may not be as skilled as fighting or as smart as the others, but all I know is…” 

“Mingyu, please.” 

“This world, this wretched world…” he croaked out, “Means nothing to me without you!” 

and as Mingyu grabs the suspended gem, light completely envelops both of them and their surroundings.

He's immediately brought back to reality, and breaks free of the binds fairly easily, blowing the shorter of the male, including the crosses that surrounded them, away from him. 

“Foolish human! sacrificing yourself for a clone, loving a soulless husk of flesh! no matter how many cores you take,” the man began, summoning cubes out of thin air. 

“you will never stop the Honkai!” he cries out in anger, trapping the grieving male in the cubes and commanding his lances to slice the cube cleanly with much anger in his gestures. 

He finishes his attack with a powerful blast at the sliced cubes, but his brown eyes were already fighting to be alight with life and vigor, causing a splitting headache that he forcibly chose to ignore. 

The male, arising from the wreck as the dust settles, was completely beaten up, his beautiful getup shattered as he held on to a stray spear from his cross before. 

He was completely silent, the black cross growing in purple flocking to him as he heaved labored breaths. 

From this distance, the taller could not clearly see the man's expression, and slowly became unnerved by the silence that befell upon them. Having grown used to the cries of anger and grief of the other. 

“Die! Die! Die! Return from whence you came!” The taller repeatedly cried out as he launched attacks towards the battered male.

Each attack was dodged gracefully as the shorter geared up and charged towards him, his cross becoming a skateboard of sorts as two spears joined on both ends and transformed into a double-ended one, parrying and blocking each attack that came his way. 

Mingyu, the shorter began.

I'm sorry that you had to find out this way. That I didn't break my obsolete habit of doing everything for everyone. For giving myself to the world so readily without thinking of the people that wanted me as I am. 

The attacks continued and did little to slow the shorter down, his eyes flaring up in a different kind of determination. 

But to tell you the truth...I failed my written exam on purpose. Principal Theresa had told me that If I became S-rank... I'd have little time to see you, kiss you, hold you, and even fight alongside you. 

I know I told you that I was gonna become the best soldier ever, but even then, what was being the best soldier when I couldn't see your smile? telling me how proud you are of me? teasing me about my height despite me being able to wreck your shit one hundred percent? 

what was being the best soldier if you weren't there to scold me, telling me to be more careful next time, patching up my wounds, then cooking me the best dinner buffet ever? 

He continued to charge towards him, jumping off of the cross, as another one materialized above the taller. 

“using the same trick again! how foolish!” the taller cried out, gathering power in his hand, ready to toss it above. 

“Judah!” the shorter cried out, fully materializing the cross, as it split in half lengthwise, spitting out spears that shot everywhere, held by golden chains as it surrounds the taller. 

By then, the power had dissipated from his hand, effectively neutralising the taller's next attack as the cross drops behind him, pinning him on the surface of it through the chains that pulled.

“this...what is this?!” the taller cried out in anger, panicking when he was unable to channel and utilise his power. 

“the oath of judah— or a complete perfect replica of it...principal theresa's cross.” the shorter explained. 

“the cross contains the core of the herrscher of binding, who can neutralise honkai energy and bind the target...however this cross doesn't have that core...but it has enough power to bind you.” the shorter panted, the pain of infection flaring up from his back. 

“the more you use your herrscher powers...the more your physical body will be infected.” the blue-haired woman explains again. 

“so I'll turn into a zombie?” 

“not specifically. the core of reason is sentient and rather benevolent...the core will probably eliminate your physical body...and turn you into a part of it.” 

“and what about the core of death?” 

“it's an independent core, it won't fight your disintegration, but I doubt the core will find the strength to work with the core of reason again if it doesn't have your body.” 

Two years. He could've spent the remaining two years of his life with Mingyu. Images and thoughts of marriage, family, and lifelong accompaniment begin to swirl in the shorter's thoughts. 

But Fate was far too cruel to the both of them. 

As the taller struggled and mocked the shorter, pitifully bound by the chains who only flared up in response to his anger, the shorter takes a few steps forward, leaning down to the kneeling man. 

“the core of death?” 

“yes, it's abilities are quite... interesting.” the blue-haired woman, now known as einstein began to ponder verbally. 

“what's so interesting about it?” 

“for one, the core doesn't just kill living beings...or bring living beings back to life.” 

“I'm not following.” 

“I have studied the core for quite a while, and tested it on numerous samples, which were mostly physical.” she began. 

“but there is this theory, that the core doesn't only kill living things... physically.” 

“I'm still not getting it.” 

“Part of why the Honkai zombies become essentially brainless is not only their cognitive functions becoming impaired, but also their egos being reduced to a number of commands.” 

“so you're saying the core is capable of killing personalities? I don't see how that's beneficial.” 

“With the right amount of practice and power, yes, it can kill personalities, but also bring them back to life.” 

Einstein, your theory had better be true, the shorter remarked in his thoughts as he comes face to face with the taller. 

the orchid flower mark on his back began to glow softly as he cups the other's cheeks yet again, before planting his lips upon the other's. 

the kiss was nothing romantic, maybe to the taller, but to him, it may be the last kiss he'll ever give to him. 

The taller began to feel a sense of drowsiness at the contact of their lips, not only was he feeling completely powerless, but his limbs were completely going slack, and his struggles ceased. 

he couldn't move anything, not even his lips, as sensations slowly left his body. the patter of rain against his now drenched outfit, the hammering heart within him, and the cool winds that would've let his body shuddered in response. 

The last sensation he felt was his lips, until his eyes met the darkness. 

Mingyu finally comes to, as if he had awoken from a nightmare. His breaths were labored, like he was drowning and he was just resuscitated back to life.

he was not in the place that was ruptured into pitiful pieces by the powers capable of bending physical laws, but he was in a different space. 

a peaceful one. 

colors swirled all around him, he felt weightless, like a burden was relieved off of him as he looks around in mere confusion. 

then the thought hits him. 

he cries out the shorter's name, frantic, scrambling to his feet to run, in hopes of finding a way out of this space. To finally reunite with who he loved, the person he's been aching to hold in his arms. 

“what are you flailing about? you look like a deer caught in the headlights.” the familiar voice spoke up, causing Mingyu to turn sharply to his back, seeing the owner of the voice he wanted to hear the most. 

“How— When did you— god, you fucking idiot!” He immediately stammered, collecting the smaller into his arms, tears silently flowing to his cheeks as he gives him a squeeze, happy to have him in his arms. 

“Hey, Hey. Deep breaths, baby.” The shorter one removed his death grip on him, smiling gently as he held him by the shoulders. 

Mingyu collects himself and his composure, all too elated to finally be reunited with his lover. 

“Wha— What happened? All I remember is grabbing the core and the light— What happened to the core?” Mingyu asks. 

“The core is within you.” He began, his smile subtly dropping, “In the process of trying to fuse with the core, you awakened something within you.” He continued. 

“So much is happening, Mingyu. I can't really tell you everything because I don't know how to begin.” He heaves a sigh at that. 

“Oh.” Mingyu merely responds. 

“How can we get out then? I wanna see everyone! I wanna make up for the things I did.” Mingyu questions. 

The shorter a sad smile on his face, though Mingyu doesn't seem to notice it. “Come on, walk with me for a while.” He reaches a hand out. 

Mingyu took the hand, intertwining their fingers as he followed his steps, letting a comfortable silence fall upon them. 

“Mingyu.” He calls out. 

“Hmm? Yes, my love?” 

“How are you feeling?” 

Mingyu draws a blank upon the question. How was he feeling? He couldn't describe it. He knocked out, heard a menacing voice whispering bitter remarks into his ear. 

He could recall fragments of what seemed like him hurting his boyfriend, mocking him. He could hardly believe that he himself was saying such horrible and demeaning things. 

Even in such a state of slumber, Mingyu refused to believe that he was hurting the ones he loved. 

And when he saw his determined, yet tearful eyes, he almost believed that it was really him, he was really doing all of this. 

He didn't want to believe it, he didn't want to listen to the voice that keeps planting sinister thoughts into his head. 

So he dreamt. 

He recalls every memory he has with him, fond, sad, lovely, and even when they first fought. All these memories, they were precious to him, and he allowed himself to be foolishly trapped into the dream, reliving his greatest memories. 

“Mingyu?” 

“Yeah, sorry.” 

“You spaced out, it's okay.” 

“What was the question again?” 

“How are you feeling, my sweet?” 

Mingyu ponders again, this time not recalling the series of events that transpired. Instead, he looks at their intertwined hands and the sweet smile his lover wore.

“Like home.” He finally answered. 

“Like home?” the shorter repeated, clearly amused. 

“Don't laugh, it's true!” Mingyu whined, pouting at him. 

“Alright, alright. I won't.” 

They shared a few chuckles as they walked, the pathless route seemingly endless as they fell into their natural state of conversing, banter and some sweet kisses here and there. 

Mingyu was chuckling when he suddenly let go of his hand. 

“We're here.” He says. 

“Where?” Mingyu asks, before turning front and facing a rather ancient door.

“The end.” He answers, as calm as he could possibly be. 

“What do you mean?” 

“When you walk through that door, you'll wake up from the nightmare, my love.” He answers. 

Silence befell upon them again, this time, it wasn't a comfortable one. 

“What about you? Will I see you when I wake up?” Mingyu finally breaks the silence. 

He couldn't bring himself to answer his question. 

“Then I'm not going.” 

“Mingyu, please—” 

“No, I won't! That's final!” Mingyu began, firm. 

“Mingyu, please you're acting like a child—” 

“I don't care!” he added. 

“I don't care if I'm living in a nightmare, If I'll sleep forever...I don't care! as long as I'm with you, I'll be fine!” 

“Mingyu—” 

Before he could continue to reason with him, Mingyu lunged into his hug, wrapping his arms around him. 

“Please...please let me stay with you.” He pleaded. 

“Mingyu, I can't.” He began. 

Mingyu didn't let up, only hugging the smaller as tears began flowing down his cheeks again. 

Mingyu, still holding onto him notices how weightless he's gotten. 

“Mingyu, you have to let me go.” 

“No!” 

A shaky sigh escapes him, trying not to let the tears fall as he begins losing sensations, and at this point, he could barely feel Mingyu's grip around his body. 

He was fading. 

It was as Einstein had told him, the core was slowly consuming him before the Honkai infection could. 

“Mingyu, please— we can't keep going on like this.” 

“No!” Mingyu replied, defiant.

A sob escapes him at his reply, unable to hold back the tears. 

“at least hold me properly?” he finally says, softly. 

Mingyu reluctantly agrees, shifting and putting the boy on his lap as he wraps an arm around him from behind, and in this angle, he could see how the boy was becoming transparent. 

“Why?” Mingyu asks, now full on crying as he gazes at the fading body of the love of his life. 

“I told you to rest! eat your meals! and not strain yourself…” He trailed off, crying. 

“It was my only chance of bringing you back…” He answers, smiling sadly as he relishes what he could in Mingyu's arms. 

“You idiot…” Mingyu merely added on, still crying as he holds him tight, afraid that he'll completely slip from his arms. 

Mingyu keeps crying, hoping that this was another nightmare the voice had conjured for him to break his spirits, he hoped that he could wake up and he would be waiting for him with his sheepish smile, and he could scold him again for staying up. 

but it felt real. all too real. 

The way his body was phasing to and fro being transparent then physical, the sweet words whispered into his ears that did nothing to soothe his pain. 

“Please... don't go…” Mingyu pleaded. 

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry...Mingyu.” He only replied, crying. 

Mingyu didn't say anything else and fully hugged the other's fading body, as light from the door envelops the both of them. 

Mingyu comes to, this time, he was in the place he last saw before his seemingly eternal slumber, and before anything else, he felt lips against his own. 

His lips. 

They were breathing life into him, and washing away the pain the core brought upon him, opening his eyes. He sees the dimming light of life from his eyes, his arms instinctively coming up to wrap around his figure. 

the shorter had enough strength to pull away from the kiss and let himself be held by the taller. 

“Ah...I feel so light...Is that you, Mingyu?” He weakly calls out. 

“Yes, yes. it's me.” He answers softly but frantically as he holds onto him, crying softly. 

“Thank goodness…” 

The silence would've filled the room if not for the hardly silent cries that were Mingyu's.

“Mingyu?” 

“Yes, my love?” He answers, his voice breaking.

“I love you…” He muttered. 

“I love you too, so much…please, stay with me…” He pleaded, but he knew it was too late, his pleas were never heard by the gods in the first place. 

“Thank goodness...I was afraid...I couldn't say it again…” He muttered, before he closes his eyes, a soft glow enveloping his figure, the light becomes harsh for a short while that Mingyu had to look away for a short while. 

When Mingyu looks again, the body of his lover was completely gone, like they were never there in the first place, and instead, he was holding two gems in his hand. 

one had the orchid flower carved beautifully onto its azure surfaces, and the other merely held a smooth cerulean surface.

Mingyu's cries became louder at the sight, the reality of the situation finally sinking in as he holds the gems close to his chest, the only remaining reminders of the man he loved so dearly. 

Yet the rain has stopped, and only the silent light of the sun peeking through could be seen. 

The turbulently tranquil rain had stopped, and if only Mingyu had looked up, he would see a beautiful sunrise, bringing a surge of new hope to many. 

But to Mingyu, he could only fill the skies with his tears, and the new day had only brought him pain, as his cries were hardly heard by the one he lost. 

[evolutionsvoid]

For many sapient species, space is the ultimate challenge. The final goal, to escape the cradle of your birth and roam amongst the stars. It takes many things to reach the heavens, and all who have achieved it attest to the sacrifices needed to make such a thing reality. Intelligence, technology and time are a few of the many ingredients necessary to make it all possible. One merely needs to look around at the myriad of species that make up the Galactic Council to see what it takes to claim the stars. Ships of alloy, engines of light and minds of hope. When one at last achieves this great feat, they may believe themselves to be masters of this reality, that there is no thing they cannot conquer. If one makes the heavens their domain, and ride upon ships of light and energy, are they not gods? Roam the galaxy enough, though, and one will find an answer to that question. The void of space is a realm that can only be reached by technology and intuition, but those are not the forces that truly rule it. Even in the endless vacuum, chaos and nature still remain, and sometimes they carry a really big rock and a nasty disposition. Any space-farer knows that an asteroid field is a bad place to be. Despite all the shields and reinforced hulls, a big chunk of space rock can cripple any ship. Some have succeeded in finding ways to make these regions safer for travel, while ever-growing technology works to resist nature's minefield. However, there are some of these territories that no one dares to touch, zones that many navigational computers refuse to even skim past. In these places, it is not the asteroids people fear, but the things that live within them. Those who have traveled amongst the stars will tell you of the Oon'Grok, both out of amusement and fear. Massive space-dwelling creatures that call the asteroid fields home, and who make these regions absolutely inhospitable for any ship or station. The one thing you will be told but will never really be able to understand is their size. Only by seeing one with your own eyes will you truly fathom their mass. They are larger than a Cruiser-class vessel, making fighters and traders look like gnats in comparison. Capital ships are indeed larger than then, but this certainly does not make the Oon'Grok any less intimidating. Though smaller, they can easily grab a Capital ship and knock it off course, or perhaps even tear right through it. To go with their extreme size, the Oon'Grok are incredibly powerful. A part of this comes from their composition, as living in a vacuum requires a heavy duty body. They are harder than stone and steel, capable of shrugging off turret fire from a warship. With a hefty mass and specially designed muscles, they can use zero gravity to their advantage to hurl asteroids or even ships. Their limbs are strong and flexible, with their forelimbs able to split or merge depending on the situation. Each one ends in sturdy claws that allow them to grip and tear. To navigate the void, they have special organs that can emit a force to propel them through space. Their traveling speed is not the fastest, but it does allow them to overtake larger ships that are drifting along. Despite what some may claim, they cannot travel at the speed of light or make jumps. They can only swim along at the speed their organs allow, meaning that it takes them years to traverse distances that starships can do in hours. This is not a real issue for them, because Oon'Grok seem to live for centuries or even longer. Sustenance isn't an issue either, as they are a type of filter feeder. The long "hairy" tendrils that take up their head have been compared to baleen of certain species. The nutrients and energy that flows upon solar winds and drift through the void are caught and consumed in their hairy net. Oon'Grok can also add to their diet by crushing up asteroids and other debris, then catching the dust in their "beards." With a long lifespan, simple diet and impenetrable hide, these beasts are leviathans, and they live up to the name.       What has made the Oon'Grok so famous to the galaxy at large is their hostility towards those who invade their territory. Oon'Grok live in asteroid fields, carving out nests and caves in the biggest chunks they can find. This is where their home and food is, and they are quick to defend it. Oon'Grok live in groups, and they create their colonies by gluing all their caves together in a hand-spun web. From orifices on their limbs, they secrete a bluish gel that quickly hardens when exposed to the vacuum of space. With careful movements, they can create strands of this stuff and use it to stick asteroids together. Humans have compared the resulting structures to a spider's web and a bagworm's case. They bring all their desired rocks together to create a huge clump of caves, which the group will live in. The size and shape of these formations may vary by the family group, as each has their own personal preference. This can even change overtime, as they get bored and decide to do some redecorating. Outsider Oon'Grok may invade their territory, which will lead to a dispute. Another of the group will challenge the invader and a nasty fight will break out. If the intruder loses, they will speed off to another patch of the field to tend its wounds. If they win, the family group will begrudgingly let them stay, with the loser often giving up their cave. These duels can be brutal, but their tough hide ensures that the combatants rarely suffer debilitating injury. An interesting thing to note, though, is that these fights can lead to the Oon'Grok using weapons. Grabbing smaller asteroids and using their special gel, they will actually craft crude clubs and hammers from their surroundings, and use them to batter foes. Primitive as they are, they are incredible powerful when wielded by these leviathans, which many space captains can attest to.

 Fellow Oon'Grok are not the intruders that anger these beasts the most. Such an invader comes along once every couple of decades, so it isn't too big of a deal. The real thing that enrages them is the shiny screaming creatures that dare poke around their territory. It turns out that Oon'Grok communicate through special wavelengths emitted through their bodies, and they have sensitive receptors that allow them to pick these messages up. This wavelength is quite similar to the way most spaceships and stations communicate through the vast expanse of space, and this is where issues arise. To the Oon'Grok, an approaching vessel is an extremely noisy and irritating thing. Due to the vast amounts of technology and communication devices aboard any given ship, they are just constantly expelling these "noises." The sensitive receptors of an Oon'Grok are irritated by these alien signals, and it turns them aggressive almost instantly. They will be quick to smash the noisy insect that bothers them, and they have the ability to do so quite efficiently. A resistant hide means that laser fire is useless, and their bulk makes them an extreme threat. Be it a fighter or a capital ship, the Oon'Grok is perfectly capable of reducing it to floating scrap. Their claws can rip through hulls, and their powerful limbs can snap vessels in two. Even if one is to keep them at bay with a torrent of laser fire, they can win in a long-ranged battle as well. Grabbing small asteroids, they will hurl these rocks at annoying ships and smash them to pieces. While warships have the shield technology to survive an onslaught of lasers and missiles, none of them are designed to withstand the blow of a really big rock. Great Capital ships that could destroy an entire fleet have been turned into mere playthings in the hands of an Oon'Grok. The same clubs they use in territory disputes can also be used against a vessel. A single swing is enough to destroy shields and send the broken ship spiraling into the void. Victory against an angry group of Oon'Grok is impossible, the only option is to retreat while you are in one piece. Some have been successful in repelling an assault, but looking at the amount of losses they take to do so shows that retreat is a way better option. While the wavelengths that communication arrays and technology creates bring misery to the Oon'Grok, their calls are also capable of mingling with a ship's receptors. Those who survive an encounter with the Oon'Grok have noted that their signals act like a mass broadcast that can interfere with comms and receptors. Ships that are hit with these signals have said that their speakers and comms are suddenly flooded with "hoots and bellows." This is not believed to be what Oon'Grok actually sound like, as it is the technology trying to interpret a signal beyond its understanding. Regardless, many survivors warn others that "as soon as your comms start hooting and hollering, charge up the engines and RUN!"       Due to the threat they pose to any space-faring vessel, Oon'Grok territory is restricted and avoided by all travel routes. All traders and travelers know where large colonies of these beasts dwell, and they always ensure their journey stays far away from these forbidden zones. Though normal space travel keeps clear of these territories, these areas are not completely abandoned. Smugglers and criminals know quite well that the law does not enter the lair of the Oon'Grok. Those who are pursued by the authorities may choose to jump into Oon'Grok space and force their foes to turn back. Certain smuggling routes cut right through these areas, as it keeps the law away and cuts down travel time. However, it should be remembered that escaping into these territories is not an easy or flawless solution. Pursuers of these criminals will tend to hang by the edge of these territories to ensure they don't turn around and try to sneak past. This means that the only way out is through, which means avoiding the Oon'Grok. No one knows how many of these smugglers have vanished in these regions, reduced to a scorched smear on a floating hunk of rock. This isn't the only use that the seedier side of the galaxy has for these forbidden zones. Some have found the dire flight through these regions to be quite exhilarating, leading to the formation of several illegal races. Though these events are run by shady organizations, none can deny the amount of gambling and interest it draws in. These races involve dozens of ships, who's goal is to reach the other side of an Oon'Grok infested asteroid field. The rules are few and vague, it is encouraged to come up with creative tactics or dirty tricks to get an edge on the opposition. In these events, the racers will find their opponents to be just as dangerous as the titans. No one will bat an eye if someone takes a cheap shot at another racer or if they bash another competing ship right into the claws of an Oon'Grok. The hosts of these events know full well that many viewers tune in to see the crashes and explosions, so this sabotage and rivalry is quite welcomed. In fact, some events may launch comm satellites into the field prior to the start so that the Oon'Grok are good and agitated before the racers enter. Though these illegal events are quite infamous and widely broadcast, the authorities rarely interfere. While bribes ensure the law stays away from these races, many enforcers claim they wouldn't stop them in the first place. Many will joke that these events do a great job at keeping the peace, as a good amount of scumbags wind up exploding during every race.             Not only has their territory found a use for shadier folk, but others have developed an interest in the Oon'Grok themselves. Researchers interested in developing cultures and early stages of sapience find Oon'Grok to be fascinating. Their use of tools and crude settlements suggest an intelligence, and many wish to see how it grows. Unfortunately, there is not a lot of funding for this area of research, as many expeditions have ended in tragedy. Others look to the substance the Oon'Grok secrete, and wonder how it can be used in space-faring technology. A gel that can harden into sturdy armor when exposed to a vacuum could be quite useful for both suits and ships when it comes to breaches. It has even been suggested using these secretions as a basic foundation when it come to construction in space. This quick and sturdy material would be perfect for creating a simple skeleton that could then be easily built around. However, these musings are yet to be fully realized, as no one has found a way to perfectly replicate the substance. With the aggression of an Oon'Grok, gathering these materials naturally is also out of the question. Some may suggest trying to capture or domesticate one of these titans, but the Galactic Council has made it illegal to own or transport these beasts. Since they show a crude form of sapience, they are given the same protection as any other species of society. It is also illegal to own an Oon'Grok due to the fact that they are incredibly dangerous and can cause a whole lot of problems. These laws fully came into power after the Gigra Shipyards Rampage, which showed the universe how stupid it was to try and control these titans. The culprit of this incident was a wealthy collector who had dreamed of capturing an Oon'Grok. Such a feat would bring much fame, and no doubt such a thing could be easily monetized. Using an obscene amount of resources and tranquilizer, a hired fleet was able to locate a lone Oon'Grok and successfully sedate it. With the titan knocked out, the beast was netted and towed to the nearest shipyard. Due to its immense size and space-lifestyle, the creature could not be brought onto a planet or an outpost. Most space stations were ill-suited for such a cargo, so they chose to use a massive shipyard as their base of operation. There, they could easily finish the job and ensure the Oon'Grok was properly contained. Unfortunately, this decision turned out to be disastrous. Though the titan was fast asleep when it was hauled in, the vast amount of docked ships and their irritating technology proved to be enough to wake it. Pained by the ceaseless noise and electronic signals, the beast awoke and instantly broke free of its restraints. From there it went on an unstoppable rampage through the ship yard, causing obscene amounts of property damage and totaling dozens of ships. The factory arms and forges were ripped to shreds and capital ships were bludgeoned with debris and smaller vessels. After hours of terror, security and on-station war ships were able to push the Oon'Grok into open space, where it fled back to its home. The incident caused the Gigra Shipyards to lose over half of its functionality, and repairs took decades for it to return to its former glory. The collector responsible for the disaster survived the incident, as they had fled the second the beast broke free. However, it seemed that the consequences of their actions had been too much for them to bear. So much property damage and so many ships belonging to numerous governments and black market factions were destroyed due to their ignorance, and they couldn't live with the knowledge. Weeks after the rampage, the collector's body was found floating in the void. So wracked with guilt, they had apparently beaten themselves within an inch of their life, shot themselves in the head with a blaster then airlocked their own corpse. Truly a tragic and totally voluntary way to go.   It should be noted that the Gigra Shipyards Rampage has become quite the famous incident on a galactic scale. Not only did it fortify the laws around the Oon'Grok, but it created the perfect reference for many folk and media outlets whenever a rich idiot caused the usual disaster. It is also a notable incident for enthusiasts in warships and space combat. At the time the rampage occurred, two famous ships were docked at the Gigra Shipyards: the EN Vera'Zun and the IA4 Rela'Kan. These two ships were renown for the roles they played in Skree'lad Insurrection. The two ships were on opposite sides, and both were the heavy hitters of their fleet. Despite the numerous conflicts, the two warships never actually fought each other in direct combat, resulting in lots of speculation years later. For the longest time, enthusiasts and historians would argue over which one would win in a duel. When the rampage occurred, the universe got its answer when the two got caught up in the chaos. The Rela'Kan was declared the winner when the Oon'Grok wielded it like a warclub and smashed the Vera'Zun in half. The Rela'Kan now also sits in the number one slot of "Which 10 Warships Are the Best Melee Weapons." Though the territories of the Oon'Grok have been thoroughly mapped and logged, it is important for any traveler to know that unknown individuals or groups can still exist. Navigational computers only know of the prominent populations, as it is impossible to track every single individual drifting out in space. Those who are driven from the family groups may wander the void in search of a new home, while entire groups may migrate when their territory faces an outside threat. A migration like this only occurs when rare anomalies may pass through the area and scare off the Oon'Grok. One case was when the True Pantheon was first observed, which was when they visited the Caldeon asteroid field. This massive region of asteroids was home to several Oon'Grok groups, but they all fled when one of the Pantheon's members flew into a fit of rage. These displaced groups wound up wandering into new regions and taking refuge near popular trade routes. After several trade fleets were destroyed, an effort was made to push the Oon'Grok back into the Caldeon field now that the Pantheon had departed. Another way that Oon'Grok can show up where they are not expected is through their ways of reproduction. It is believed that Oon'Grok can reproduce on their own, though a mingling with partners can be done to insure genetic diversity. What results are hardened eggs that are sealed with cocoons of their gel secretions. Despite their size and long life, Oon'Grok can reproduce quite frequently and create quite a few eggs each time. Due to space and resources, an Oon'Grok group cannot hatch all the eggs they produce. As a result, only a small fraction of these eggs will hatch at a time while the rest stay dormant. It has been found that these dormant eggs can stay this way for centuries, waiting for some type of signal for them to awaken. Oon'Grok groups may keep a portion of these eggs, but a time will come where they have too much. When this happens, they will attach clusters of them to a chunk of asteroid and use their strength to launch it into the void. The fate of these laden rocks is not guaranteed, but it seems a tiny portion of them eventually wind up passing through suitable habitat. If this happens, the eggs will hatch and the young will take over the area. If the rock is destroyed or sent on a empty path that stretches for centuries, that is no issue. All the Oon'Grok do is spread their seeds into the solar winds and destiny will decide where they shall land.                 ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CAVEMEN! IN! SPAAAAAACE! At one point I was thinking about sci-fi universes and how many super intelligent aliens there were in each. Space travel and such is no easy feat, so obviously all these races need to be technologically advance and incredibly sapient. That got me thinking, what if there was a dumb one? What if there were space-faring creatures that were essentially cavemen? Obviously they couldn't get into space with just sticks and stones (and Orks already did that, so I don't want to copy), so I kept playing with the notion. Overtime, it evolved into a species that was already in space to begin with, so no progress or technology needed! Which then lead me to my favorite part of this: what if these space cavemen were incredibly OP? You can have all the fancy lasers and energy shields you want, but a big enough rock will beat it every time. Makes me wish I could draw more aliens, but for whatever reason, whenever I decide to make something a sci-fi alien species I lose all ability to draw the dang thing.

[astrodances]

Okay I got to ask did anyone think that Scrooge is a engineer because he is Scottish in your au

Ha! Nah, not like that. Though I'm sure he's met (and shared more than one glass of scotch with) a certain other engineering Scotsman in his time, given his lifespan. ;)

In general, I think this AU's Scrooge is so much of a take-charge leadership kind of guy, that "engineer" doesn't really cross people's minds when talking to him. He's a captain, no doubt about it.

Although...

Sometimes, in the most dire of circumstances on the Klondike, something will happen to most of the engineering department and Scrooge and other crew members will have to take over to keep the ship alive for that much longer. (Sometimes that'll mean Scrooge and Chief Engineer Donald are working side-by-side. Other times...Scrooge will run into engineering and will have to keep himself from not looking over at the unconscious form of his nephew, not until they're all out of peril.)

And I mean, Scrooge's track in Starfleet has been Command for most, if not all of his career, but that's not to say that he didn't take his fair share of engineering classes (besides just the required/basic ones), or perhaps experimented a little in different departments as a young ensign aboard different ships. After all, what better way to become an all-around captain than to know what your crew has to do? And in a more technical sense, a captain must certainly know how their ship works. :)

And this *might* be contradicting some of what I've written before (or adding to it perfectly), but between his time in the Klondike on Earth and joining Starfleet Academy, Scrooge probably worked on some asteroid/space mining ships to get his foot in there to explore the stars, and worked in engineering to earn his keep, which aligns perfectly with how he traveled the world in Life and Times. And to add my own personal touch to that...in Life and Times, he traveled from Australia to the Klondike aboard the Southern Cross ship, right? Well, in this AU, his first ship from the Klondike/Earth to the stars could be the Southern Cross as well! And if not as a space mining ship, then as his first assignment right out of the academy: the USS Southern Cross! (She's likely an Akira-class vessel, although based on Star Trek's timelines for that class, it might be a different one.) Why this ship, besides the Life and Times connection, you may ask? Because I'm a crew member of the "real-life" USS Southern Cross, a chapter of the Trek fan club, STARFLEET International! :D

[edge-lorde]

hey uhhhhh remember when i said that the world building in shera sucked really bad i needed to not think too much into it? 🤡

anyway i was trying to board an expanded lore comic for the horde but it wasnt coming along.... so i wrote out a basic backstory for horde prime...... posted under the cut because the comic is still happening but its not coming out before i have t go back to work again lmao

Horde prime was born on a planet that is now long dead. His species originally had wings and tails even as adults. The culture that he was born into was similar to the culture on etheria in that there was diverse ethnic groups, song, dance, entertainment, no transphobia or homophobia, war, and strife. He was trained as a soldier and in war tactics but became disillusioned with war as a concept and wanted only peace. 

He left the army and started preaching pacifism. He gained enough followers of his teachings to begin a small commune that would eventually become a cult. He preached to his followers like they were apart from the larger problems of the world but his commune was eventually attacked by the enemy that he had scorned fighting before. They take horde prime and some members captive, horde prime attempts to preach to them about peace but they do not listen. Though it pains him to do so, horde prime goes from thinking that he could live in his own little peaceful world to thinking that it is his duty to rid the entire world of evil so that suffering can no longer exist and to do that, war is necessary. 

Horde prime rallies his followers to revolt against their captors and escape imprisonment. Horde primes once peaceful commune becomes a paramilitary organization that aids in the war he once fled. 

His side wins. Horde prime attempts to go back to living peacefully but the militaristic organization of his cult stays. Being a cult leader feeds his ego. He sees that there is still strife in the world. His cult is no longer isolated from the world, but actively trying to build itself into a major religion ala scientology. Horde prime becomes jaded with other people, especially when scandals happen in his church. He feels that people who follow them of their own choosing should simply not need to be guided any more and is mystified as to why people seem to cause problems on purpose, in his mind. Horde prime begins to think that he is the only person that knows how to live a righteous and moral life, even people who have followed him from the beginning are doomed to sin if they even so much as think thoughts that are not his. Horde prime dislikes people and sees them as only a means to an end or something he can get something out of. He dislikes actually having to lead people and mediate conflicts. He thinks that the world would be a much better place if only he could do the thinking for everyone. 

Horde prime invents (or steals) the technology needed to make horde chips. He invents or steals the tech needed to create the hive mind. He has his followers chip themselves ala jamestown. At this point he can use the hive mind to read people's thoughts and possess them and has his new army go about chipping everyone on the planet. 

At last, he has achieved world peace, but he knows that there are more planets and more people and more strife in the universe, so he uses his world wide army to build a space fleet and begin his universal conquest in earnest. He takes all the resources remaining on his home planet and leaves it desolate, the first of many planets he would do this to. 

As the years drag on and horde prime begins to age, so does his army. It is steadily growing via new conquests but there are no new children in the horde because everyone is chipped and not having them. Horde prime knows that if his goal of total annihilation of the known universe so it can be rebuilt can work, then he can have no suitable heir, because his entire philosophy revolves around him knowing best and doing the thinking for everyone. He also knows that if he succeeds in chipping everyone in existence eventually that would mean that all sapient life would die out. This is not necessarily his goal, he just wants all people to reflect his image and think what he wants them to think, not be completely gone. In addition to that, though horde prime dislikes actually having to lead people, he does not desire to be completely alone and enjoys manipulating and using his followers now that they are completely obedient. 

This would entice him to invent his method of cloning that we see in the show. Horde prime uses the greater part of his remaining natural life perfecting his cloning process and devising ways to keep himself living for longer and longer than his original lifespan would have lent him. He develops a way of replacing eating with injecting himself with the green amniotic fluid that we see in the show. It both nourishes him and keeps his body working in top physical condition. How does it do this? Idk!!!!!!! But he bases his clones around it, fitting them with ports all over their bodies that make maintenance easier. He also replaces their organic brains with computers that are pre-connected to the hive mind and preloaded with all the knowledge the clone would need to live when popping out of a tube as an adult. They are also pre-programmed to adore and worship horde prime. He fits them with a port on the back of their necks that connects directly to their computer brains like a usb or html. He also at some point decides that he doesn't want his clones to have wings or a tail and has them be stopped from growing in the cloning process. 

When he decides that he can no longer keep his original body alive, he has his most favored clone fitted with even more ports and cables that can connect to the brains of other clones. When his original body dies, he has this clone's mind completely wiped and possesses him, having him become his new primary vessel. The original clone that once laid claim to that body is essentially dead and can never be revived, though horde prime can access his memories. This would be the permanent process of horde prime gaining new bodies to keep himself immortal. The species that horde prime belongs to eventually dies out until the only members of it left are his clones. 

And that is how we find him in the show.......

[misstinfoilhat]

for the drabbl thing, how about Edward with "take me instead"

Woop! First one! It became waaay too long, but I just can’t with this “drabble” thing. I hope it meets your expectation! I got a little off track. --- Truth was standing before him; that infuriating toothy grin beaming boastfully. ‘W-why am I back here?’ Edward thought, peering over his shoulder as if he expected to be back in his room. There was just an infinite amount of void as far as he could see. White endlessness of absolutely nothing.   Behind Truth, was the gate. The large murals hovering over him, and Ed felt a surge through his stomach by the memory of being pulled by black ethereal hands and rushed through the dimension of overwhelming knowledge.  “Hello, Edward,” the sharp voice called out, demanding the teen’s attention. Edward took a few aggressive steps forward with a raised fist and paused.  His arm was back, he realized numbly. He blinked at it, wondering if it was real. Then he relaxed his stance and felt his left leg move effortlessly. No pain from a long-needed tune-up, no joints groaning from misuse, or irritation to the skin where metal met flesh.  “How did..?” Edward drawled, looking awestruck as he flexed his fingers. “Do you like them?” Truth chortled with excitement, shifting to stand up. “I don’t understand,” Edward answered as he tugged at his pant leg to confirm that there actually was a real leg under there. Sure enough, there it was. All though, the limb felt strange. Foreign. But he reasoned it was because he had been wearing those heavy metal limbs for the past four years.  “I figured you might like them,” Truth chirped as it strolled mundanely towards him. “Besides, their real owner won’t need them much longer.” A cold chill ran down Ed’s spine and he felt his pallor change. “W-what? What do you mean?” “What I just said.” Truth shrugged its shoulders, glancing towards the wary boy, its smirk growing steadily. “What’s the matter? I thought you’d be happy! Maybe it’s not your own limbs, but at least they will be kept in the family,” it laughed diabolically.   Ed couldn’t move. Understanding crept up on him slowly. Piece by piece falling into place, forming into a picture in his mind. Again, he raised his arm, closely examining the paperlike skin and its suddenly emaciated appearance. He was sure it hadn’t looked like that at first… Golden eyes widened in terror. “Al!” he realized out loud and took a step back. The weak leg crumbled under his weight, his knee (no no no not his, Al’s! Al’s knee---) buckled and he toppled over. Edward landed painfully on his hip, scrambling on the ground and started crawling away from the sound of the enigmatic being’s low giggles. What was going on? What did Truth mean by Al not needing his arm and leg anymore? They were going to get his body back, and he absolutely would need his limbs!  Edward had already taken so much away from his little brother, he would rather have no arms or legs at all than for Alphonse to miss a single strand of hair from his body when they got it back! Edward would not take those away from him, even if he had to sacrifice his heart to get them back to him!  The thought of his little brother’s arm and leg substituting for his own made him sick to his core. This was wrong! Determined, Edward steadied himself to a sitting position, using his healthy left arm. But, he couldn’t see Truth anywhere. In the featureless creature’s place, sat a gaunt figure, crossed-legged and sickly. Long golden hair cascaded beneath fatigue shoulders, ribs protruding from his chest, and a solemn smile on thin lips. Missing from the boy, was a right arm and left leg.  In a moment’s confusion, Edward thought it was himself that sat there. Him from some alternate reality. The Gate had changed too. Only for a moment, Edward lingered in uncertainty. The emaciated boy tilted his head and looked directly at him, and Edward felt his breath hitch. Never in his life would he mistake those hazel orbs.  “Al!” Edward shrieked as he fought to move, crawling towards his younger brother. It felt like something was pulling him back, like an invisible rubber line wanting to pull him back. The more he struggled forward, the distance between then only increased. “Alphonse, I’m so sorry! I’m so, so sorry! You will get them back, I swear!” Ed wailed, struggling forward on hands and knees. “Okay? Please say something!”  Alphonse didn’t respond. He just sat there with the same patient smile, eyes tired and so, so thin. It was like he was staring right through him, lost in the void. “Your brother’s presence in your world is weakening,” Truth’s voice rang through the empty space. Edward looked up, searching for the Godlike creature while frantically reaching for his younger brother. A rumble was heard and the ground shook. A blinding white light emitted from the slit doors that protected Alphonse’s Gate.  “No,” Ed cried distraughtly and forced himself to his feet and tried to run. “There is no use, Edward. Your brother’s soul wants to join its original vessel soon.”  Again, Edward yelled his brother’s name, ignoring the chilling voice and refusing to believe that they were already running out of time. He limped as fast as he could while stretching both of his arms (not his!) out for his brother.  The black arms wormed their way from the dizzying universe inside the Gate, starting to pull on Alphonse’s body. “No! No, please!” Edward wept and picked up his pace. “Please, don’t take him! Take me instead! I’ll do anything!” For the first time, it seemed like Alphonse really noticed him- his eyes were fixed on Ed and Ed alone. He didn’t look scared, just resolute. Like he had accepted his faith and was ready to be taken away. As dark arms tangled around his body, his smile broadened and he gave his older brother a crescent-eyed smile. “Wait! Don’t take him! Take me instead! I did it, not him! You- you can have anything--- just, please bring him back-” Ed was broken off by a heartwrenching wail of intense agony. Alphonse was screaming as the Gate tore his body apart, limbs turning black and vanishing into the surge of distorted pictures and eye shattering light. “No!” Edward collapsed to the ground, sobbing as his brother was devoured by his sin, clawing at the ground, pulling his hair out and choking on his own tears. The Gate was gone. His brother was gone. Everything had been taken away and there was nothing left. Like the space around him. Consuming everything, containing nothing. Images of Alphonse as a plump and healthy ten-year-old flickered through his thoughts, being eaten alive by those cursed arms. The panic, grief, and desperation he had felt back then were pouring through him once again and he wondered what there was left to give. What would he have to give up to get all of Alphonse back? A sudden twinge of pain seared through his abdomen. Edward startled and looked ahead stiffly. ‘What the hell?’ Again. The pain in his midsection grew until he was unable to restrain himself from screaming. He gasped for his next breath, almost vomiting while his body shook and pulsated. Downcasting his head, he finally realized what was causing the pain, all though, it did little to relieve his confusion of the situation. One of the Gates’s arms had lodged itself in his stomach, penetrating it through and through. There was something strangely familiar with it, but Ed’s mind was too clouded to think, to process. All his muddled brain could do, was to wonder what the arm was reaching for.  Then, it yanked back, painstakingly slowly and Ed cried out again. His vision faded in and out, white turning black and back to white, as the foreign object was drawn out of him. A faint flashback of a pair of large, strong hands holding his shoulders still, and the musky smell of gun powder mixed with wet clothing and blood. Edward also remembered the cold, biting at his fingers and toes, but brushing pleasantly against his feverish cheeks. The only other sensation than pain at the moment. “Edward?” ‘Not you again,’ Edward thought furiously. ‘Have you not taken enough from me?’ But his lips wouldn’t move. Now that he thought about it, neither could he. “Edward, can you open your eyes?” It didn’t sound like Truth- Truth’s voice was shrieking, almost feminine, and violently unpleasant. This voice was deep and grumbly, like a large man’s. Almost like Armstrong’s (oh god please don’t be Armstrong). Little by little, whatever that had taken toll of his body let go, and Edward stirred. Flickering eyelashes tickled his cheeks as his eyes fluttered open (he didn’t remember when he had closed them). He awoke in a small room. The bed he had been put it was hard, but at this point, his throbbing body was appreciative of anything that didn’t involve moving. Narrow, black eyes peered down on him, as an enormous hand scratched at brown, bushy sideburns. A little behind him stood another man, approximately the same size as the first one, with a yellow mustache that rivaled Armstrong’s own. The past day’s events rushed back to him. About Alphonse leaving to meet Winry and Scar’s group, the confrontation with Kimblee and the chimeras, the mineshaft, and the alchemy that had taken years off his lifespan to seal his wound. Looking down, he saw that his midsection had been heavily bandaged, and he rested a hand over where the two chimeras had pulled the bar out after he helped them and sighed. It had just been a bad dream. There was nothing to worry about…right?

[frizz22]

Can you do a Hilda/Dr.Cee prompt where Hilda finds out she’s pregnant over the winter holidays and she tells Cee first but, Ambrose figures it out before she has a chance to tell anybody else? Thank u!

Okay, since I received two Hilda/Cerberus pregnancy prompts, I combined them. Hope you don’t mind :) Read on ao3

Prompt 1 above ^^, Prompt 2: Can you do a fic where Hilda tells Doctor Cee she’s pregnant with their first child after taking a pregnancy test? 

“Oh, oh dear.” Hilda breathed, staring at the card in her hand.

She shouldn’t be surprised; she was a midwife, after all, and had recognized the symptoms some time ago. It was just, she and Cee had never discussed it. 

Marriage, yes. It’d come up a few times since they’d learned that because of his incubus Cerberus would have a lifespan well into his late 200’s, possibly early 300’s. 

Incubi, unlike demons such as the devouring worm they encountered in Jesse Putnam, were generally lazy in any aspect unrelated to sex. Once they claimed a body, settled in, they didn’t like leaving it. To prolong having to find a new body, the incubus extended the life of whatever vessel they inhabited; keeping it healthy.

So, yes. Once they’d learned they’d have more than a few decades together, the two of them had, on occasion, probed the possibility of a long-term future together. Nothing serious, of course, just a casual mention here and there; and certainly, no mention of children.

But this, this changed things.

“Pregnant.” She whispered, looking at the card again and smiling widely despite her worry. “I’m pregnant.” A giggle escaped her, and Hilda placed a hand on her stomach in awe.

Then she blinked. How was she going to tell Cerberus? Biting her lip, Hilda hurried upstairs from the basement where she’d hidden away to run the test in private and started making plans.

~~~

She’d considered, and thrown away, many options.

Something hidden in one of the beloved books at his store. A onesie, a pacifier, baby shoes or something else baby related placed on his pillow before they went to bed. A card. Wearing a shirt that said, ‘bun in the oven’. Simply blurting it out like they both had done when they admitted to not being fully human.

None of them felt right, for one reason or another. And then, then an idea came to Hilda and it couldn’t have been more perfect. Grinning, she made for the kitchen.

A whispered spell unlocked the bookstore door for her, and Hilda nudged it open with her foot; making sure to cast another spell to relock the door once she was through.

Cerberus rounded one of the bookshelves, confusion creasing his brow. When he saw her, though, his face brightened. “Hilda, darling, what a lovely surprise. What are you doing here? Here,” he stepped forward and took the box she’d been carrying from her arms.

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Hilda exhaled a little shakily. “Oh, just trying out a new cake recipe, thought you might be my guinea pig.” She replied, shedding her coat and coming to a stop at the counter where Cerberus had placed the cake.

“Oh, you know I’m always willing to taste test your cooking and baking, Hilds.” Cerb grinned, reaching over the counter for plates and forks. “Not that it ever needs testing, everything you make is delicious. What flavor do we have… today…” he trailed off as he opened the box. Clearing his throat, Cerberus looked at her. “Trying a new design too, Hilds? For one of your and Zelda’s midwife clients?” He asked, peering back into the box where a pacifier shaped cake sat, brightly colored with icing.

She blinked, not having realized the design could be interpreted as anything other than the obvious. “Actually, love, the design… it’s, it’s for me. I’m trying to tell you that, that I’m pregnant.”

“You’re,” Cerberus swallowed, “you’re pregnant?” He repeated, hand running through his hair, eyes wide.

Suddenly unsure, Hilda nodded, worrying the ends of her cardigan sleeves. “Yes. And I realize we’ve never talked—"

A whoop of laughter interrupted her, and Cerberus swept her up into his arms and whirled her around the shop. “You’re pregnant!” He exclaimed breathlessly when they stopped; his hands on her hips to steady her. “Hilda, this, this—" he kissed her excitedly and cupped her cheeks. “I love you.” He grinned, kissing her again.

Before Hilda could reply, Cerberus’ eyes went wide, “wait here,” he instructed, dashing away from her.

Taken aback, Hilda took a tentative step after him. “Cee, love?”

He hurried back, eyes cheerful and a wide smile on his face. “Hildegard Spellman,” he dropped to one knee and opened a box. “Will you marry me?”

Turtle dove hearts. He’d, he’d gotten her turtle dove hearts.

Tears in her eyes, Hilda nodded eagerly. “Yes.”

Beaming, Cerberus set the box aside and pulled a ring out of his pocket and slipped it onto her finger before standing and hugging her hard; face buried into her neck. “I love you,” he mumbled into her skin, “so much.”

Hilda clung to him, “I love you too.” She murmured, pulling back slightly to kiss him as well. “You, you got the hearts.” Her voice wobbled a little, but Hilda didn’t care, she was so happy.

An amused huff escaped Cerberus. “Of course I did, Zelda told me if I was going to propose I had to do it properly. Though,” his fingers brushed the ring now sitting on her finger, “I couldn’t help but include the mortal way too.”

“Zel—, Zelda knew?” She managed, taking Cerberus’ hand and leading him to a couch in the back alcove of the store.

Lifting a wry brow, Cerberus nodded. “She threatened me with a gruesome death, a resurrection, and a repeating cycle of horrendous deaths and being brought back for the rest of my life if I hurt you. But yes, she knew. She helped me get the hearts, not like I could go to the Greendale supermarket and pick some up.” He teased, pulling Hilda into his lap, a hand coming up to rest on her stomach. “I had it all planned; nice dinner, dancing, fancy speech… all the works. But I, I didn’t want to wait.” He tipped his chin up and kissed her. “I cannot wait to be married to you, Hilda. I cannot wait until we’re a family.” His hand pressed a little more firmly against her stomach and Hilda shook her head and laced her fingers into Cee’s hair as she kissed him again.

And just before their lips met, Hilda murmured, “I can’t wait either,” before sealing her mouth over his.

~~~

A few hours later, still floating in air, Hilda walked into the house, humming to herself; Cerberus unfortunately having to stay behind at the store for a little longer to finish cleaning up. It was no matter, plans for the wedding, the nursery, names for the baby and more floated through Hilda’s head keeping her happily occupies until her fiancé came home.

Scrunching her nose delightedly at the title, fiancé, Hilda moved into the kitchen to make herself some tea. Now that she’d confirmed her pregnancy there were a few herbs she could mix into her tea to keep her and the babe healthy as well as ease the nausea she’d started to feel in the mornings.

The kettle had just begun to whistle when Ambrose waltzed in, pecking her on the cheek as he passed. “Hi Auntie,” he greeted, rummaging in the fridge and emerging with an armload of food. She shook her head at him indulgently until he snagged a cup and tried to pour himself some of what was left in the kettle.

Unsure what else to do, Hilda smacked his hand. “Not for you.” She scolded lightly, giving him a smile to take the sting out of the rebuke.  

Smiling crookedly at her, Ambrose took a bite of leftover meatloaf. “Come on, Auntie.” He managed through a mouthful of food. “I just need enough to wash all this down.”

She smacked his hand again, taking the kettle away. “None for you.” She repeated, more sternly this time. “If you want some there’s another kettle in the cupboard.”

Ambrose groaned playfully. “I don’t need a full cup. Just a swig. Come on Aunt Hilda!” He reached for the kettle and she spun away from him. Brow furrowing, he tried again, and she once more backed away.

“You can’t have any, I don’t know what’ll do to you!” The words flew shrilly from Hilda’s mouth before she could stop them, and she squeaked and pressed her lips together to prevent it from happening again.

Eyebrows flying up, Ambrose opened his mouth in confusion only for it to snap close. “What’s in the pot, Auntie?”

Floundering, Hilda waved one hand vaguely. “Nothing.”

Her nephew was clearly unconvinced and could all but see the wheels already turning in his head. “Something in tea, something you can have but I can’t…. not even a mouthful…” He muttered aloud, eyeing her suspiciously. Then Ambrose’s jaw dropped. “Aunt Hilda! Are, are you preg—"

She clamped a hand over his mouth. “You hush.” Hilda glanced around but Zelda and Sabrina were nowhere to be found. Her reaction only solidified the idea though. Ambrose’s eyes wide above her hand. Sighing, Hilda removed her hand. “Yes,” she hissed. “But don’t say anything. I only just told Cerberus and we want to bask in it a little bit before telling everyone. Please, darling, I—"

Ambrose cut her off with a hug. “Of course, Aunt Hilda. I’m so happy for you two. Let me know if you need anything, okay? Anything at all.” He kissed her cheek sweetly and made off up the stairs with a wink.

Slumping against the counter in relief, Hilda poured the rest of her pregnancy tea down the sink before she had to have the same conversation with anyone else. At least Ambrose hadn’t seen the ring… she’d never have gotten rid of him so easily if he had. 

It wasn’t that she wanted to hide these things from her family; she knew they’d be overjoyed at each piece of news. She just wanted to process it all, a lot had happened in the past two days, all of it amazing, but still, a lot. Hilda wanted to let it sink in, let the joy defuse entirely through her body before she had to share it with anyone other than Cee.

Grinning to herself, Hilda took her tea and made for the parlor, already mapping out what pattern baby blanket she wanted to knit.

[drummergirl231-2]

Della’s Return to Earth’s Gravity

This is a blog post I wrote for DuckTalks! Be sure to check it out there, too! I’ve touched on this topic here before, but I wanted to talk about it more in-depth.

Della's been on the Moon for a long time - ten, or more likely, eleven years - and her body has grown quite accustomed to only weighing one sixth of what she would on Earth.

After a bit of research, I've found several articles (linked below) that detail the negative physical effects on astronauts who spend a significant amount of time in space and then return to Earth.

Grant it, these articles discuss what it's like to spend months or up to a year in microgravity, floating around in a space station. Della hasn't been floating around since there is noticeable gravity on the Moon, so on the one hand, the effects on her body might not be as severe. On the other hand, they could be worse since she's been gone for over a decade. Since NASA has yet to set up an outpost on the Moon - something that apparently they are hoping to do - we don't yet know the effects a prolonged stay on the Moon might have on an Earthling.

Another important disclaimer is that this is a cartoon, and writers tend to pick and choose how close or far from reality they want to be for the needs of the story. Sometimes they really apply their research, such as when they worked closely with the Amputee Coalition to create Della and make sure they got her movements right. Other times, they only slightly pay attention to scientific details, such as when they addressed Della's lack of oxygen, water, and food by having her chew a practically magical piece of gum that Gyro created.

And other times they completely ignore certain facts, such as having Della repair her rocket with gold which would melt upon reentering Earth's atmosphere, or having her walk around without a space suit with all that radiation from the Sun and extreme temperatures on the Moon's surface (-280 to 260 degrees Fahrenheit, -173 to 127 degrees Celsius).

All this to say, the writers aren't likely to give Della every one of these physical problems when she gets home, especially considering they didn't have her freeze or fry the moment she removed her space helmet. I’d be surprised if they didn't include any of these issues, though.

First things first, Della might have brittle bones like an osteoporosis patient and be prone to fractures.

In microgravity, bones lose density at a rate of 1-2% per month, especially in the legs. Our bones break down and rebuild themselves constantly on Earth, but without the weight of gravity, bones have no reason to stay strong. Calcium leaks out through urine, and it takes astronauts two months on Earth for every one month in space to get their bones back to normal. They work out on the space station two hours per day to slow down the process of bone loss, but they still need to rehabilitate when they come home.

Della might not be in microgravity, but she's only had one sixth of her normal Earth weight all this time. There hasn't been much weight on her leg. Hopefully Gyro's Oxy-Chew provides plenty of calcium for her, especially considering female birds periodically lay eggs even when the eggs aren't fertilized, which would also draw calcium from her bones to form eggshells. Gosh, I hope for her sake unfertilized eggs are smaller than fertilized ones.

Anyway, all her hard work trying to rebuild the rocket would also help slow down her rate of bone loss, but it may not be enough.

Another effect of prolonged time in microgravity astronauts experience is disorientation. Their brains lose track of up and down, so they're pretty dizzy when they get back down to Earth. This wouldn't happen to Della, since there's definitely an up and down on the Moon.

She could, however, still be very faint because of a drop in blood pressure, and need a transfusion of saline to bring her blood pressure back up after landing.

Blood rushes to the head shortly after launching. When an astronaut returns to Earth's gravity, the increased gravitational pull causes blood to move downward and pool in the lower extremities, depriving the brain of the oxygen it needs and causing slight cognitive decline. Della's heart would have to work much harder to pump blood to her brain back on Earth after such a long time on the Moon. One astronaut reported having to wear a pressure suit under his clothes when he returned to Earth to regulate his circulation while readjusting to Earth's gravity.

Like many astronauts, Della may not be able to land her rocket smoothly or even remain conscious after reentering the atmosphere. She may be in for a rough landing and need immediate medical attention. In the following weeks, she might need a wheelchair... and definitely a shower chair, so she doesn't hit her head or fracture a bone fainting in the shower.

Aside from blood pressure issues causing dizziness and fainting, Della may also have decreased muscle mass.

Astronauts can lose 20-40% of their muscle mass and function during long space trips, and just like with bone mass, legs are the most affected. It took astronaut Bob Thirsk six weeks to regain his muscle mass after landing. Della has been working out on the Moon, but it's hard to know if it will be enough. As I've said, she's going to suddenly be six times heavier when she lands. It could even take more effort to breathe. One astronaut reports that on his first night back on Earth, he felt like he was glued to the bed. Of course, that was returning from microgravity.

Astronauts are very wobbly on their feet once they arrive home, and have to relearn how to walk with one person standing on each side of them, ready to catch them when they fall. Even without the symptom of disorientation, Della could have her work cut out for her between bone loss, muscle loss, blood pressure issues, and being an amputee.

While Della was able to get around on the Moon really well, it's likely only having one sixth of her usual weight on her prosthesis was a blessing at first. She's had more weight than that on her residual limb and prosthesis before, carrying giant pieces of debris to rebuild the rocket, but it was for shorter periods of time. The increased pressure on her residual limb in her makeshift prosthesis on Earth could be very painful if she has to stand or walk for longer periods of time, and she may need a new prosthetic leg custom-made by an actual prosthetist.

Della could struggle with overall soreness, especially in her neck and back, having to support the full weight of her head again. She may become very aware of her bill and tongue and have slight trouble speaking clearly at first, as one astronaut said that he hadn't realized he'd gotten used to talking with a weightless tongue and immediately felt the weight of his lips and tongue again when he landed. Della's case wouldn't be as severe as his though, since she's accustomed to the Moon's gravity.

Her remaining foot might hurt, too as she adjusts to her Earth weight. One astronaut said that without calluses on his feet, he felt like he was walking on coals. Della would have some calluses on her foot, but imagine the ache of walking around with so much additional weight.

Nearly half of astronauts also report blurry vision. This condition is now called space flight-associated neuro-ocular syndrome. Depending on the cause, Della may or may not deal with this issue. Some theories as to why astronauts in microgravity develop temporary vision issues are that blood pressure changes affect the vessels behind the eyes, or that the abnormal flow of spinal fluid in microgravity causes swelling in the optic nerve.

There are also some more frightening effects of prolonged time in space.

These include premature aging, carotid arteries (which can lead to heart disease or stroke), and major changes to metabolism. A study of identical twin astronauts revealed significant DNA damage, possibly due to radiation, such as shortened telomeres (stretches of DNA associated with a person's lifespan). I honestly can't imagine the writers addressing any of these issues. If Della can survive on the Moon for over a decade with only one piece of gum, the writers aren't going to have her suddenly develop heart disease or cancer when she gets home.

It's difficult to guess how closely the writers have stuck to the testimonies of astronauts, but I imagine Della at least being a bit weak and wobbly when she arrives home, which could make it even more difficult for Scrooge and Donald to come to terms with her amputation. Grounded by gravity, she may have to work really hard to prove to them that her disability isn't actually going to disable her.

I can almost hear Della arguing with them now: "No seriously guys, it's just that gravity is dumb. I got around on the Moon just fine for over a decade! Just you wait, I'm gonna be up and running in no time!"

Hopefully we'll get to see how this all plays out in May! And if not, hopefully by the end of the year!

Sources: Astronauts Returning to Earth Face Tolls to Their Bodies Canadian Astronaut Wrestles with Gravity after Spaceflight Weightlessness and its Effect on Astronauts NASA Study Highlights Profound Effects of Space Travel on Human Body Watch Astronaut Scott Kelly Struggle to Walk on Earth after a Year in Space