#zones lore

[d3molition-lov3rs]

thinking about festivals held out in the zones. news of the event being spread through word-of-mouth, coveted zines, secret frequencies revealing the location through the radio. long treks with your crew across the desert, out into the far-flung parts of the zones away from where the scarecrows patrol, the radiation waves causing the horizon to blur and distort in the distance. clusters of vehicles, caravans and cars and motorbikes and trailers all clumped together in circles, fire-pits for roasting during the day and for huddling around for warmth at night. the stage is made of old pallets and plastic clumsily tied together with cord and rope, the stairs up to it creaking with every heavy step and threatening to collapse all together. the music is loud and electric, chords and drumbeats ripping across the desert, painting colours and noise through the otherwise silent landscape. the bands never stop playing, music blasting all hours of the night and day as killjoys mosh and fight and drink and laugh together in the crowd. motorbabies curl up together on top of the caravans to watch the show from afar, sharing sweets and comics and hand-made trinkets and jewellery amongst themselves. alliances and friendships are made with crews from the other side of the desert you otherwise would have never met, the memories encapsulated through the stories that will be told for years to come. art is made and shared in the form of painting one another's cars, tattoos inked deep into sun-tanned and blistered skin, photos snapped on old polaroids with long-expired rolls of film. songs are written in the moment and performed and played again and again and again, the melody forged by the magic of those present at the event. the final hours of the final day are marked by the early rising sun lighting up the people passed out in the sand, the roar of engines turning over, the sight of another crew disappearing over the horizon.

[blood-injections]

Zones location idea: A car wash where music always rings out, ominously at all hours, but never anything but daft punk echoing through the stagnant desert. A neon sign proclaims what the structure is but some of the letters are shorted out so at night all you can see is RASH. The building is illuminated with flickering orange streetlamps and a generator ever-churns out back but no one knows what it runs on, just like how the car wash isn’t self-serve but no one knows who works it. The concrete is potholed with soapy, oil-slick technicolor-colored puddles that boil come the noon heat and evaporate leaving a sticky residue in their wake. The curb is littered with cigarette butts, firecracker skeletons, tempered glass rhinestones and candy wrappers. There’s no use for a car wash in the zones, your ride’ll be dusty within five minutes, maybe no one goes there at all, maybe no one’s ever been, but there’s stories about it all the same. Like the one that says when you go through the wash isn’t your zones that you roll back out into, but a different desert entirely.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Alfred: You! Danny: Me? Alfred: You! How are you here?! How did you escape!? Danny: Um, I think you have me confused with someone else, sir. Alfred: No, I would never forget that face, even if it's been twenty years. I know you, Danny Phantom! Danny: *Nervous Laugh* Whaaa, nooooo. Danny Phantom is a ghost, and as you can see, I'm perfectly alive. Alfred, pulling out a ghost-hunting knife from his shoe: I fought my way through your domain, and I beat you once. I will do it again! Danny: Whoa, whoa, sir! Please, I don't know what you're talking about! I don't know you! Dick: Alfred! What are you doing!? Stop! Alfred: DIE, BEAST! Danny: Aghhhh! Dick: No! Alfred stop- Clockwork: Pause Danny: Clockwork! Great timing! You saved me! Thank you! This guy was about to stab me in the neck. Clockwork: You are welcome, and you have a good reason to be afraid. Alfred Pennyworth is a fearsome foe. Danny: Oh, wait, you know him? Clockwork: Yes. In your future, but Pennyworth's past, I assigned you a mission to bring me Thomas Wayne as a potential husband candidate due to a contract I have with his bloodline. Peenyworth believed I was going to force the man into the marriage, and broke into the Infinite Realms to get him back. He attacked my tower, and you were dispatched to stop him. But he won and sealed you away in a copy of the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep that he made, and blew up my Haunt while carrying out Wayne. Danny horrifed: What? Clockwork: I know he's a terrying little human. Let's skedaddle before he breaks my hold on time. Danny: He can do that? Alfred: *twitching agressively* Clockwork scared: Yeah he can, that's how he blew up my tower. Let's get the fudge out here.

[earthtooz]

lighter x gn!mechanic!reader, 1k wc lighter is down bad for reader. like. DOWN BAD, lots of cute banter, pining from both.

Whenever you visit Blazewood, the Sons of Calydon mark it as a significant day in their metaphorical calender.

You’re their precious mechanic, the one who ensures all of their bikes and engines are running smooth for any operations (read: trouble) they get themselves into. Having been long-term friends with Caesar, you make the effort of travelling from Sixth Street to the outskirts of New Eridu every few weeks. Granted, for how many times you’ve travelled between the two places, you’ve grown rather close to the tight-knit biker gang, so it's an exciting time for all.

However, the reason it’s marked down is because they know it’s a special occasion where they can all tease a certain, aloof boxer a bit more than usual.

“Y/n!” Burnice’s voice cuts through the bustling atmosphere of Cheesetopia, capturing everyone’s attention as you walk through the door of the diner.

They all wave you over the booth they sat in, Burnice and Luci shuffling over so you can sit down with them. You don’t see the way Caesar nudges Lighter as you settle down opposite him. 

“How was your trip?” Caesar asks. 

“Good, a little tired though,” your yawn is perfectly timed. “My limbs still feel stiff.” 

“Oh no! Do you need a little rest?”

“No need, I wanna get started working as soon as possible, I'm itching to tinker some engines."

The dark-haired across from you chuckles, adjusting his sunglasses to sit higher on his nose bridge. “There’s the Y/n we all know. If you need a little help, let me know, I’m happy to lend a hand.” 

The group giggles between themselves.

“Thanks, Lighter!” 

The giggles intensify when Lighter’s ears flush red at the tips. 

This is why your visits are a marked occurrence: because the rare blush and nervous appearance that overtakes his normally cool and collected character is incredibly entertaining, and watching him bumbling about around you is a hard opportunity to come by. All Lighter can do is admit defeat and be susceptible to all the teasing that’s sent his way, because he might as well accept it.

He’ll turn a blind eye to the blonde heads popping around the garage every so often as he helps you out in the garage as long as it means they leave the both of you alone. He’ll ignore the giggles of the girls as they listen in on the quiet conversation exchanged between you both in the dim lighting of the dreary space.

“Any biker gang fights happen recently?” You ask whilst observing the rear wheel.

“Nah,” Lighter grunts, “just a few challenges here and there.”

You extend your hand out to him. “Spanner, please.” He places the tool comfortably in your hands and you resume working. “A few challenges? Did you win?”

“‘course. Wouldn’t be a good champion if I lost.”

“Sounds easy in theory,” you murmur, peeking around the bike. “I bet you don’t even know the names of the gangs you won against.”

His silence is the only answer you need and you sneak a smug glance at him. You look away before you could notice the red blush creeping up his neck. “So what if I don’t? I won against them, ain’t that all that matters?”

“Sure. Guess your memory gets knocked out of you after a couple fights.” You giggle at your own joke.

“C'mon, quit teasin’ me.”

“Sorry, just can’t help it when it took you almost five months to remember my name.” It’s light-hearted, he can hear the smile in your voice. 

“Gosh, you just don’t know how to let things go,” he counters, a smile of his own developing.

“Nah, it’s just fun to tease you.” Then, you stand up with a grunt, looking at your handiwork closely one last time before making your way to your workbench. “Besides, it’s not everyday I get to interact with a cool guy like you.”

Lighter’s heart skips a beat in his chest before jumping against his ribcage. “You think I’m cool?”

“Doesn’t everyone?” You ask. “You’re the cool guy who cares about everyone, and that’s a good thing. I like that about you.”

Oh, you’re gonna kill him. He’s not gonna make it out of the garage if you continue this onslaught of compliments. He doesn’t really want you to stop either, wants you to say something that really shows how you feel about him, like how you think he’s handsome, or that he’s admirable, or better yet, that you like him as well.

‘I like that about you’, ‘I like … you’, yeah. That’s also good enough for now. 

Instead, you fall silent as you rearrange all your tools, locking the box that cuts through the tense atmosphere with a ‘click’. 

“Well, I’m beat,” you huff, stretching your arms over your head, “my back hurts and I’m hungry.” 

“You’ve been working real hard, let me treat you to dinner.”

“Really?” 

“Really.” 

A few minutes later, you end up at the Fuel Truck, enjoying some food together and continuing your conversation in the cool, breezy night of Blazewood. It’s easy being with you, effortless, doesn’t really burn through his energy like some other social interactions do, and Lighter can’t help but feel like this is how it’s meant to be. Sharing stories, talking about the important and mundane alike, he doesn’t know when you became more than the cute mechanic Caesar was good friends with, but he’s glad he finally got your name down on the sixth time of trying. 

He tucks a strand of stray hair away from your face before you can get it in your mouth, and the grin you give him almost paralyses him. 

Plates are emptied, drinks finished, and dessert is done, but you’re still talking into the late of the night, until the employees need to wipe down the bar and call it a day. All good things come to an end, and Lighter wishes you could stay with the Sons of Calydon for longer than just a few days, but you have your own business in Sixth Street, so he monopolises your time whenever he can.

Which is how he ends up walking you to your motel, letting the long day draw to a close.

“Thank you for dinner, Lighter, today was fun.”

He chuckles, the sound deep and full. “No problem, it’s my pleasure.”

“Come back tomorrow, yeah? Swing by the garage anytime you want.”

“Anytime?” The biker rubs his chin. “Careful with your generosity, I might end up annoying you.”

“I doubt it.”

“And if I overstay my welcome?” 

“Then apologise by keeping me company.”

You shoot him a wink before going up the stairs of the motel, quickly disappearing from his sight as he laughs to no one in particular. He lightly punches his chest, as if trying to tell his hammering heart to calm down. 

Yeah. You really are trying to kill him. 

© EARTHTOOZ 2025, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[northstarscowboyhat]

Corn picking day.

[lazylittledragon]

so uhhhhhhhh. not to be cryptic and bitchy on main but congratulations to everyone in my messages for like 5 months on being right i guess

[nopanamaman]

How do mutants in the Facility live?

Patreon Loredump. August 2023

One of the most frequent types of questions I get are about life in the Facility. So it seems like a good topic to start my loredumping series with! 

Apologies in advance for all the photo examples, I hope they work fine for getting the vibes across.

Overview

The facility dome is visible in the distance.

The facility in general – or, as it’s officially known, the Zh. I. Alferov National Institute of Anomalous Research – is a large structure located on the border of the Zone. Its most notable feature is the massive dome surrounded by an outside wall.

The wall. In real life, the famous building of НИЦЭВТ.

The latter is a building in itself, containing offices, lecture halls, resting and dining quarters for researchers, as well as minor labs. All entrances are supervised, though not totally closed off to the public. Excursions, official meetings, TV reports – all of those happen within the wall.

But you will not find any mutants here. As you may have already guessed, all the major laboratories, anomalous artefacts, and, of course, mutants are housed in the dome. The entrances to the dome are monitored and equipped with anomaly scanners, allowing only authorised personnel and mutants to travel between its sectors.

Mutants cannot traverse the facility unsupervised.

What is the mutant classification system?

Depending on their anomalous characteristics, cooperability and method of containment, mutants are sorted into types and numbered groups. Individual mutant numbers usually look like XT000-000.

Let’s use Dmitry as an example.

Dima’s serial number is DT001-319.

The type constitutes the first part of the mutant’s number. Dima’s mutation is Directional Type, hence the letters DT at the start (for the record, KT stands for Kernel Type).

Next we have the 00X number. Mutants are assigned a 001, 002, 003 or 004 class depending on the potency and containability of their mutation – kinda like SCPs, yeah. Dima has a very powerful mutation he has good control over, plus he is sound of mind, making him suitable for 001 containment.

The last three digits are the overall number of the mutant within their type. So if Dima’s are 319, the facility has had 318 directional-type mutants on record prior to his arrival. This does not mean they were as powerful or had the same level of control over their telekinesis, just that they possessed a similar mutation to some extent.

How do different mutant classes live?

001

001 quarters example. Not too different from a hospital or sanatorium

Subjects ranked as 001 are extremely powerful, have good control over their powers and are, most importantly, docile. Since their mutations are very potent and difficult to forcefully contain, the go-to approach is making them not want to leave.

001s spend most (if not all) of their conscious lives surrounded by doctors. The latter foster a particular mindset in their subjects, where the world outside is presented as a place that is unanimously hostile to mutants. This is done by means of propaganda, reminders about their family’s supposed mistreatment and, in case a mutant has some favourable recollections of their childhood, gaslighting. Additionally, subjects are never left alone with each other.

001s get very luxurious treatment by facility's standards, with much bigger, more comfortable rooms than other mutant types. They're even allowed to have gaming consoles, TVs with VHS and video players, and their own bookshelves. Each mutant has their own separate room, which is kept under constant camera surveillance with the toilet being the only blind spot.

Special folders are issued to 001s before experiments with lower-ranked mutants.

Experiments held on 001s are relatively humane so as not to discourage them from staying at the facility. They do undergo daily checkups mostly designed to monitor their mental state. 001s are also active participants in experimentation on lower-ranked mutants, who they are taught and encouraged to treat as lesser beings.

001s are a high-risk investment, so their numbers are far smaller than those of 002 and 003-class mutants. Additionally, because of the potential danger they present, the institute is quick to dispose of 001 subjects by either termination or reclassification to 004. Though, if a 001 manages to stay cooperative long-term, they can become a very valuable asset for the facility.

002 and 003

002 and 003 quarters example. Though, they’re typically not as well-kept

002 and 003 mutant classes can be grouped together, since their treatment is largely the same. Both of these types’ mutations are easy to forcibly contain. The difference is their danger levels. 003s require close monitoring to not be harmful to others, while 002s are borderline harmless. Both types are characterised by general cooperability.

002s live in wards for 2 to 4 people, while 003s are more commonly placed in single-person wards to prevent accidents. A standard room includes a bed, a desk and a small bathroom (multiple beds and two desks in bigger wards).

KT got to take a dinosaur plushie to her room for good behaviour.

Mutants are allowed to borrow books from the library, as well as get drawing and writing materials. If they behave well, they can get a toy or even be lent a handheld console for a few days. 

002s and 003s have breakfasts, lunches and dinners together, and can spend some time in the playroom with other mutants (that’s also where they can play computer games and watch TV) – all under very strict surveillance, of course.

In some ways, their treatment is much less cruel than that of the elite 001 subjects.

KT before the DT experiment.

Though, not when it comes to experiments. 002s and 003s are very common, and are thus treated as disposable material in a scientific sense. The people holding experiments on them are a lot less concerned with minimising the subject’s pain or discomfort. Consequently, it’s not uncommon for mutants of these classes to sustain serious injuries or die as a result of experimentation.

That said, 002s have the highest likelihood of getting released from the facility, given they meet the conditions for it (more on that below).

004

004 quarters example. Basically a prison bunker

004 is a special category reserved for powerful mutants that refuse or physically cannot cooperate. This number can also be issued as a temporary or permanent punishment to misbehaving mutants. The 004 quarters are located underground and have the highest level of security, acting as a sort of bunker for the most dangerous subjects the facility has.

004 rooms are even more barebones than those of 002 and 003s. They have no access to entertainment (unless it is somehow required to contain their mutation) and cannot leave their room under any circumstances. They are more weapons than test subjects.

Do mutants receive education?

All mutants from class 003 and above receive basic education, learning to read, write and count. They additionally get curated history and sociology lessons. Some mutants, namely 001s, attend mandatory classes in certain disciplines to better apply their mutation. For example, Dmitry studied anatomy to know the precise positioning of internal organs.

Mutants are also free to study whatever sciences interest them in their free time by asking for educational materials at the library. Needless to say, most kids aren’t too interested in that, and are very uneducated compared to their outside peers.

Is there censorship in the facility?

All the media mutants are exposed to at the facility is strictly controlled.

6 y.o. Dima and his politically correct PSP.

The only movies, cartoons, comics, books and games allowed are those that either don't feature the Zone or mutants at all, those that show the discrimination mutants face outside, or those that are very obvious anti-mutant propaganda.

In essence, there are no positive depictions of human-to-mutant interaction, aside from ones between mutants and noble scientists. And, of course, nothing that goes against the general government ideology.

Can mutants be released from the facility?

It is generally assumed that mutants that go into the dome do not come out.

While they are largely dehumanised, the facility is still publicly presented as a sort of scientific sanatorium and hospice for those that cannot safely exist in society. Releasing mutants that know the truth behind the institute’s experiments into the wild is simply of no benefit to the government. So the majority are terminated once their scientific potential is exhausted or if they become too expensive to contain. As a result, few mutants live to adulthood.

Though, there are exceptions to the rule. Occasionally, mutants deemed non-hazardous can be released back into society. This is applicable to mutants that have not experienced significant mistreatment from the facility, lack the ability to talk about their experiences and optimally have been brainwashed by an appropriate 001 subject.

Have other mutants before DT and KT ever escaped?

The funny thing is, escapes aren’t a particularly rare occurrence.

Dmitry and Katya’s escape in KT’s Official Guide to Coolness.

Despite getting a lot of funding, the facility itself is very disorganised. Most of the money is blatantly pocketed by the higher-ups, so a lot of its structures and equipment are subpar – this includes its outdated safety systems. To top it all off, the security staff isn’t especially well-paid, so their diligence is highly questionable.

With all that piling up, there are around 3 cases of low-level escapes every year. Because of tight budgets and plenty of work to do as is, these escapes are generally brushed under the rug. The institute still keeps tabs on the escapees in case they happen to show up on the radar, but it rarely organises active searches or alerts the public for that matter.

DT and KT’s escape stood out because it was anything but low-level, and pretty bombastic at that. But even that didn’t warrant a public announcement for fear of panic and reputational damage. So if you’re an 003 mutant looking for an opportunity to sneak out… Hell, man, just go for it.

Wrap-up

That’s about all I can say about mutants’ life in the research centre, scratch some small factoids here and there. I tried to answer the most common questions regarding the topic, so I hope your curiosity was satisfied!

[lassieposting]

Been thinkin about Astarion + vampire biology so have some headcanons and the bits of game lore they're based on

Dialogue establishes that Cazador has been successfully passing himself off as a regular noble for centuries, and Astarion confirms that while he's considered a bit reclusive, he does mingle with the upper class of Baldur's Gate and has a property specifically for hosting fancy events.

Vampires are camouflage predators, whose primary hunting strategy is to blend in with their prey until the perfect time to strike. Their ecological niche is not a particularly safe or stable one - they live hidden in plain sight, usually in sizeable cities, for easy access to prey, but they know that if they are discovered they will be rooted out and killed or driven away. They are rarely able to get away with attacking in public, where city guards might rush to the aid of a screaming victim - they have to isolate their target before killing it. The ability to blend in, to be overlooked by their target, until it is too late is essential.

Cazador is, as far as we know, the only true vampire in Baldur's Gate

This is because true vampires are aggressively territorial. Like most apex predators, they eat a lot, and need substantial territories to support them - even moreso if they have a partner or spawns. Ascendant!Astarion would need to hold onto the entire city, as Cazador did, to be able to feed himself and Tav without raising suspicion.

True vampires are relatively rare, but there are more of them than there are cities, so it's not uncommon for one to set up in an occupied city and try to oust the sitting resident. The challenger usually believes himself to be as strong or stronger than the current tenant: these territorial disputes usually end in at least one death, so they're not to be entered into lightly.

Astarion is very obviously a vampire: his fangs are visible, as are his bite scars; he's so pale multiple people comment on it; his eyes are red, etc.

Astarion is not a healthy vampire.

This is a man who has been kept on the knife's edge of starvation and tortured regularly for 200 years, and to another vampire, that would be clear from the state of him: Astarion is a camouflage predator who is so malnourished he is no longer able to blend in.

Tav will get an up-close look at his transformation over the course of the game and during the years afterwards: the more healthy and well-fed Astarion becomes, as his body catches up on its immense energy deficit and begins to recover, the better he will be able to mimic a living elf. His skin will be able to bleed, or blush, or bruise, none of which he's capable of while actively starving. Hia fangs will retract until he needs them, not invisible but less obvious - having them out all the time is a response to severe deprivation; he's so hungry his body can't risk losing prey to the split second it takes Cazador to snatch a rat back, so he's permanently in bite mode, hyperaware, ready to strike. Some body functions will come online that he didn't even know he had, the ones that are supposed to help him blend in - his eyes will start producing pigment to look darker, less scarlet and more burgundy, to be more easily mistaken for brown; his lungs will make him breathe automatically even though he doesn't need it, he'll start being able to eat normal food without getting sick again, though he still won't get any nourishment from it; he'll heal faster. He'll even be able to get drunk, though he'll burn through it very quickly. As it stands, all those extra systems have been shut down by his starving body - they're useful, but nonessential, and he needs every single bit of energy funnelled into just keeping him alive and functional.

There is probably an intentional bit of psychological warfare against the spawns on Cazador's part here - him starving them strips them of their natural defences, and every time he makes them leave the mansion to hunt, they have to do so knowing that they're poorly hidden and vulnerable. But it's established that true vampires treating their spawn poorly or outright abusing them is A Thing, so it's not the only reason - he sees them as property rather than people, he keeps them weak so they won't plot against him, he's acting out his own trauma from Vellioth on them, he just wants to - but it does feed into it.

Astarion can, at one point, identify old blood as belonging to the player character. He also gets excited at another point if an enemy character runs away, stating, "Now it's a hunt."

He says that "even stale, [he'd] recognise that bouquet anywhere." This confirms a few things for us:

He has a vastly superior sense of smell capable of identifying individuals by scent and - since he can tell who the blood belongs to even after some time has passed - following scent trails.

This confirms that although city-dwelling vampires may primarily hunt via luring a victim to a secondary location before killing it, they still have the "stalk down and chase" predator instinct. Since Astarion can't lure wildlife anywhere, this is almost certainly how he's been hunting to supplement his diet when he's not using the player as his personal caprisun.

The fact that he can scent out prey before killing it means he has this ability all the time - he can smell blood while it's still safely inside the owner's body.

So scent is probably relevant to how vampires process the world. The more time each companion spends with him, the more he gets used to their scent, starts associating it more with safety and camaraderie than with a potential meal, and so he becomes more relaxed around them. As he learns to link the player's scent with love and comfort and trust, the more likely he is to retreat to their tent over his own when he's injured or afraid or having a trauma moment. When he's fond of someone, something of theirs will go conveniently missing - he's moving their scent into his little safe space, it's comforting for him. He can tell when his lover is hurt or aroused or frightened - though not which of the three applies - from a distance, because his sense of smell can pick up the spike of adrenaline rushing into their bloodstream.

But that also means that he can never feel like he's got any distance from Cazador while he's living in the mansion - even if the man isn't in the same room, the entire place reeks of him, and it makes Astarion feel like Cazador is breathing down his neck all the same. Ascendant Astarion would have a really, really hard time sticking it out in that mansion with stale Eau de Cazador all over the place. It means that he's put instantly on edge by the faint scent of one of his siblings as he walks through the lower city - when seven vicious, territorial apex predators are confined to a single small dormitory, several hours a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year, fights are going to be nasty and frequent, and although Cazador wouldn't allow them to kill each other, considering how many of his siblings refer to him as weak or a runt, Astarion probably didn't win them very often. So. Having a highkey advanced sense of smell is a mixed bag.

[qiyuearning]

ahh… self destructive, slightly evil raf with severe control issues… thinking thinking thinking. personally, i don’t find this attractive. but, it makes for an incredibly complex, multifaceted character. i love how it adds more depth to his usually sulky, passionate, cute side that we usually see.

as i said in my last lil rant, he is all consuming. he needs your full devotion, your full attention, to feel complete. otherwise, it doesn’t count.

this is even seen in the nightly stroll story in which he infers that human promises are less genuine than how his people do it. he needs to hear it come from your mouth. he needs to hear you promise that you aren’t leaving.

seeing him basically drown us in the forgotten sea myth solidifies his need for control and how he enjoys having that power over us.

“tis not worship that i desire. from the depths of your very soul, i seek only the purest devotion.”

he holds our life in his hands in that moment and i know for a fact he’s gettin’ a real kick out of it.

god, he has issues and it’s great for lil ol’ writer me ( ´ཀ` ) this is canon sorry. i love/hate an evil man. he’s so. lovely. it’s making me scream. as your biggest fan, rafayel, you are a sick fucking man. i love it!!!

@/LumiGwyn on twt… thank you for putting these ideas into perspective for me… rafayel is such a character.

[xayspancakeee]

gotta give his VA props cause ma’am, he sounded so vulnerable it made me cry??? like, it actually caused a physical reaction.

like help, i just want to hug him… come here pookie! (꒦ີ��꒦ີ｡) 💋

[skulkerdatabase]

Since my friend is rewatching Reign Storm, this post is about that episode! Specifically, Pariah's backstory, which fits here because Skulker was the one to give the exposition.

Transcript: "It was many years ago. Before you. Before me. Before most of us. His name was Pariah Dark. And he ruled the Ghost Zone. He was a ghost of such power and magnitude, only he could control the [entities? energies?]* contained within the Crown of Fire and the Ring of Rage. When wearing both, he could do anything. Until a group of powerful ancient ghosts banded together in a last-ditch effort to defeat the King. By locking him within the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep. Or so we thought."

Facts that this reveals:

Skulker didn't appear in the Ghost Zone until after Pariah was defeated.

There may be entities within the Crown and Ring, but Skulker's voice isn't entirely clear on that part.

There is no such thing as "The Ancients." It was merely a group of powerful ancient ghosts- i.e. old ghosts. Since the story takes place a long time ago, it may just be a group of powerful ghosts. The entire concept of The Ancients is fanon, not canon.

Before Pariah's defeat, his Keep was at the top of a hill on a large landmass, with many other fortresses and walls around. After he was defeated, the rest of the landmass crumbled, leaving only the Keep and the small bit of rock it was on.

*It sounds way more like "entities", but "energies" makes more sense.

[mizzfizz]

SYLUS: SHADOWED PAST [ SEALED REALM ]

OBSERVATION

Ruins groan in the wind, and screams tear through the silence. A long journey reaches a new destination. He arrives at the most inopportune moment. Buildings collapse and order crumbles, yet this brings him a newfound pleasure.

"...Heh. Interesting."

His words sink into the dust as his figure vanishes into the darkness. An entirely new beginning awaits him.

RELEASE

Silence replaces fury, which unfolds into an eerily calm reunion. The once unruly enemy from his memories now has clipped wings. With all vulnerabilities exposed, she's curled up before him.

This slaughter had been rehearsed countless times. He raises his arm with great precision.

Bang!

Once the deafening sound fades, he retreats and goes back the way he came. Behind him, the pod imprisoning the girl slowly opens to offer an escape route. The past remains unsettled as the curtain quietly rises on a new entanglement.

MEMORIES

The crowd erupts into revelry and celebrates the arrival of another death. He gazes at the battlefield where slaughter is about to unfold. Fragments that should've been forgotten suddenly surface. In the gladiatorial cage, they stood face-to-face. Their vows resonate with sincerity.

"We'll escape this place together."

"Yes, we will."

But fate always works against humanity. It witnessed their desperate pursuit of light... While simultaneously pushing them deeper into darkness.

SOVEREIGN

Sharp edges lurk beneath crimson eyes. They silently corrode everything. Amused, he watches as humanity rises and falls. They race one another to plunge into the abyss of desire. But he's like a fiend strolling leisurely through purgatory.

Under the cover of darkness, he slowly approaches a throne. A crown woven from schemes and ambition gently falls next to his feet.

CULTIVATION

Tilling soils, adding fertilizer, maintaining warmth, watering... He holds his breath, and a rare instance of anticipation flickers in his eyes. But barren land cannot harbor hope, and a cursed soul is destined to never solve life's riddle. In an instant, withered flowers cover the ground again. They're surrounded by deathly silence.

"They just don't bloom at this time."

The whisper dissolves into the wind.

FAREWELL

His footsteps startle a flock of birds, and they fly away. With a downcast gaze, he withdraws from the bustling city center.

"Mission accepted. I'm on my way!"

As they brush past each other, his steps falter involuntarily. A cold premonition cuts through his heart as a familiar silhouette disappears in his periphery.

It's reminiscent of an absurd prank and a coincidence of fate. Perhaps their reunion is closer than it appears.

[janimay-sprout-cloud]

It seems that no matter how much I try, the book stays upside down...

[absofckinglutelys]

researcher; lighter x gn! reader

author's note; hello lighter lovers nation! its been awhile since i posted anything here, what with my finals, procrastination and 4-5 typhoons in a month (seriously i wish i was joking). i've become kinda rusty when it comes to writing, so i hope you can be kind in these trying times. not beta read nor is my first language english so expect grammar mistakes.

word count: 2,400 words

enjoy!

_________

The afternoon sun beat down your skin as a light sheen of sweat dripped down from your forehead. But you were used to it by this point, it was more of a daily annoyance in your self-appointed work. You've built up a tolerance to it the longer you stay in your small camp.

You looked at the Hollow from afar with worry.

It grew more potent the last time I was here.. You thought to yourself as you packed up your findings in an old duffel bag while writing down some of your thoughts on your notes. You only bring back your journal and photos, not stuff that could potentially harm anyone as per the agreement to continue in your research and to stay in Blazewood.

The ache in your bones and the way your brain was turning itself off the longer you stay here tells you enough. It's time for a break.

Your camp was far away from the source of your research, the Old Capital. Far enough to not be affected, but near enough to observe it. Today, you were planning to go back to your lodgings in the Outer Ring, specifically Blazewood.

Although..

You checked your watch for the time. Normally, your ride back to Blazewood would be here by now..

Just as you were about to take out your phone to call, a familiar sound of an engine roared through the empty streets.

A bike that you were vaguely familiar with but weren't expecting at all, came closer to you at high speed before the tires screeched right in front of you. You gave the rider a smile once you recognized her.

“Afternoon, Researcher!” The soon-to-be leader of the Sons of Calydon flashed you with a wide grin, sweat dripping down her face under the sun. Her bike's engine continued to roar as she set her foot down to balance herself.

You chuckled as you placed a hand on your hip, “Caesar, how many times do I have to tell you that you can call me by my name?”

The nickname the Sons of Calydon, and by extension, the people of Blazewood started calling you once you started researching the Old Capital. You did give them your name, but apparently ‘Researcher’ stuck. You've grown used to it by this point.

Caesar flushed in embarrassment, putting her hand on her nape as she laughed, “Sorry, sorry. It's a habit at this point. Anyways,” She cleared her throat, “I'm here to bring you back to Blazewood!”

“Not that I'm complaining or anything,” You hummed as you approached the biker, “But normally Big Daddy is the one who picks me up, did something happen?” You eyed her curiously as Caesar adjusted herself so you could sit behind her, she revved her bike as you got on.

“I think so,” Caesar admitted, but quickly followed up as you looked at her with a frown over her shoulder, “But it's not anything bad! Big Daddy's been gone since yesterday. He said something about taking care of some business or something.”

You let out a sigh in relief as Caesar started driving at a slow pace before she made a U-turn back to Blazewood. “Well, at least it's not anything bad. Did he say why?”

Caesar picked up the pace, enough for the wind to whip at your face, you narrowed your eyes at the onslaught of dust and bits of rocks.

“Not really! He said something about meeting up with someone I think?!” Caesar shouted over the wind, you clutched the back of her bike for stability at the fast pace of her driving, eyes still narrowed due to the dust. “Guess we'll have to wait and see!”

––

Caesar's driving was a stark contrast compared to Big Daddy's, you were pretty sure you swallowed a bug during the ride back to Blazewood. You couldn't complain much though, at least you were back in your lodgings before late in the afternoon.

“You good, Researcher?” Caesar asked as you got off her bike, you were sure you looked like a hot mess judging by Caesar's concern, but you were pretty sure she was trying not to laugh at your face. To her credit, she was doing a pretty good job.

“Peachy, thanks for the ride, Caesar.” You adjusted your clothes and fixed your hair effortlessly, again you can't really complain. The Sons of Calydon and the people of Blazeword were already kind enough to take you under their wing, providing food and shelter. It was more than you deserve, so you help around if you could.

Besides, most of the people in Blazewood used bikes more often than not. There was Steeltusk, but you did not want to be another victim of Piper's driving anytime soon.

“Anytime–” Just as Caesar was about to get off her bike, a voice called out.

“Big Sis, Researcher! You're back!” The red jacket was already a telltale sign, the Champion of the Sons of Calydon approached you two as he raised his arm in greeting.

“Just in time, Big Daddy's been looking for you.” Billy said as he grew closer to you, you and Caesar shared a look, “Huh, Big Daddy's back already?” Caesar inquired as she got off her bike and kicked up the stand. You had half the mind to go inside your lodgings to drop off your bag as the two conversed.

It was a simple apartment on the second story, you climbed up the stairs as you took out your key, opening the door and promptly dropping your bag on the single sofa in the room before going back to the two members of the Sons of Calydon, still conversing but Caesar had a look of surprise on her face this time.

“What'd I miss?” You asked curiously.

“We're about to meet up with the others. Come on, Researcher!” Billy exclaimed, taking your arm in his hand without another word as all three of you walked to the lift to the main part of Blazewood, you didn't protest much since you and Billy were close enough for friendly touches like these every once in a while. But you were growing confused as you got on the lift.

“Did something happen?” You asked as the little bangboo pulled down the lever to take you up.

“Big Daddy's came back with a guy.” Billy replied as the lift’s creaky fence opened to let you out. You raised a brow at his vague words, “A guy?”

“Yeah, Big Daddy said he'll explain everything once everyone's there. So he sent me to wait for you two to come back.” You and Caesar shared a look again in confusion as Billy led the way, Blazewood was small, so you can already see the other Sons of Calydon members and the mayor of Blazewood just by the old diner along with an unfamiliar face.

“Do I have to be there too?” You asked as the three of you grew closer to the others.

Billy shrugged, “I guess so? Big Daddy did say to ‘make sure Caesar and the Researcher meet up with us once they come back’. I guess since you're our honorary member after all!” He joked as you let out a sigh.

Another thing, aside from your research, you spent most of your time with the Sons of Calydon in your free time. You enjoyed the company of the people of Blazewood, but you felt a deeper connection with the Sons of Calydon. Maybe because Big Daddy was the reason why you were here in the first place and he always insists you join them at their down times.

You sometimes think it was his way to make sure you weren't an anti-social shut in.

So while you weren't an official member, you were an honorary member. Which was why you were being dragged to this meeting right now.

“We're here!” Billy announced as the other members of the Sons of Calydon and the mayor of Blazewood greeted you, you smiled at them with a tip of your head.

“Now that everyone's here,” Big Daddy started, the group fell silent as they listened to him speak, “I'd like to introduce the newest member of the Sons of Calydon.” Big Daddy approached the man a little aways from the group.

The man stepped forward as Big Daddy gestured to him, his arms were crossed with his head down. You observed him from head to toe, trying to assuage what kind of person he was. You tried not to narrow your eyes at the guy and make him uncomfortable, so you smoothed your face into what you hope to be a welcoming one.

“Oh? Well, welcome to Blazewood, mister..” The mayor of Blazewood spoke up first, she trailed off,

The man cleared his throat, relaxing his stature as he looked up. “... Lighter, Lorenz. Nice to meet you.”

The man, Lighter, as he introduced himself. Had shades on when he looked up, you saw a glimpse of his eyes as he flickered his gaze around you. But you weren't entirely sure.

Big Daddy addressed the group after Lighter spoke up, “Lighter will be with us from now on. So, make sure to make him feel welcomed.” As the Sons of Calydon gave their confirmation and greetings to their new member, you stayed back and observed him.

Lighter was on the tall side, maybe as tall as Billy. But he seemed to retreat to himself as the Sons of Calydon started to approach him. No, not retreat. He looked like he was expecting a fight, wound up like a spring ready to jump. You can see his jaw clench and unclench as the others continued to ask Big Daddy question after question, most often than not, asking questions about him.

He was good at hiding his unease, you were just way too observant for your own good.

“Where are you from, Lighter?” You asked him directly, making the others pause and look at you. But your eyes were on him as he perked up in surprise, most likely not expecting anyone to ask him directly.

The man cleared his throat as he looked at you through his shades, it looks like this time he was observing you.

“.. Just by the old oil ridge, a bit far from here.” Lighter's voice was deep, raspy. As if he hasn't used his voice for awhile now. You had a hunch to think he had no reason to. “You look like you're from the city.” He followed up, more evident he was observing you.

You simply shrugged while crossing your arms, your expression remained neutral. “I get that a lot, but no, I'm not from there.”

“The Researcher's been with us for a couple of months now.” The mayor shared, looking at you with a smile which you returned.

“Yeah, but they didn't really share where they're from.” Caesar added as she looked at you thoughtfully, you put a finger to your lips mischievously. “I have my reasons.”

The group let out a small chuckle as the unspoken tension let up, it quickly died down as Big Daddy spoke up again, although it was noticeable he was glad for the distraction. “Anyways, let's get Lighter set up for now. Miss Kasa,” Big Daddy turned to the mayor. “Do we still have some room available for him? I’m afraid most of the space in our quarters is–” Big Daddy seemed to cringe, making you raise a brow in curiosity. The other members of the Sons of Claydon looked sheepish.

It made you think what transpired while you were busy with your research.

The mayor sighed but nodded in understanding. “I know. Unfortunately, most of the houses here are already occupied with residents and their respective families. And most lodgings at the lower level are already occupied.”

Big Daddy sighed as the Sons of Calydon started debating with each other what to do. You just stood by with the mayor as you watched them argue back and forth. The new guy (you decided to call Lighter), seemed to be mentally checked out of the conversation.

They're going to be arguing about this all day… You thought to yourself as the growing fatigue started making itself known as you watched. Unfortunately for you, you were way too determined in your research, which leads to not more than four hours of sleep a day. Along with sample gathering, data collection and whatnot, you're body was yelling at you to stop ignoring it's needs and go the fuck to sleep.

All you can think about is the bed inside your lodgings, and the duffle bag full of data you have to sift through.

So, before you can even pause and think, your mouth betrayed you as your mind was dead set on sleeping until the next morning.

“He can room with me.” All discussions seemed to pause, as everyone looked at you.

Curse you, you stupid mouth. But there was no turning back now.

“Are you sure, Researcher? We don't want to disturb you.” Big Daddy turned to you, he seemed to search your expression for any doubt as your face remained neutral. Instead, your gaze landed on the new guy, who seemed to be caught off guard. Huh.

You shrugged, trying to let some reassurance drip in your tone, but really. You really just want to pass out now. “It's fine, Lighter and I can room with each other for awhile as you, uh-” You narrowed your eyes at the others, “-sort out whatever happened to your headquarters.”

The other members of the Sons of Calydon nervously laughed before Big Daddy cleared his throat, waving away the unspoken question. “Well, since the Researcher offered,” Big Daddy turned to the new guy, “I hope you don't mind rooming with the Researcher, it's just until we can find a place for you to stay. That alright with you?”

“I don't mind.” Lighter answered quietly, shifting his gaze between you and Big Daddy. The Sons of Calydon perked up, reassuring the new guy about his accommodations. Sometimes you think the Sons of Calydon aren't a biker gang by how nice they are, at times, you mentally compare them to a group of eager pets with a new playmate.

You silently pray for the new guy as everyone continues to plan for his part in the Sons of Calydon.

[al-luviec]

my full artwork for the @ninjago-zine-of-elements !! of the previous master of sound 🎵

[traceyc-uk]

Pride Week: similar to this post a doodle dump of Nfy x Chris @diana-bluewolf